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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: "10S-NE1" [M+~TeenF, Celeb, nc]
Date: Wed, 24 Oct 2001 17:10:03 -0400
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The following story is a work of fiction.  Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.

10S-NE1 - by - The StoryMaster

News of this magnitude was simply too Earth shattering to remain a
secret for very long within the closely knit group of Handlers and
Associates at The Youth Training Center.  Rumor had it that the van
driver was the first to "spill the beans", bragging to a friend that
he'd actually touched her while she lay unconscious in rear of his
transport vehicle.  He'd gone on to claim that her scent was still on
his fingers, asking his buddies down at the loading dock if any of
them wanted a sample.  

In general this sort of lewd behavior was frowned upon by the
Administrative Department, but given the circumstances, it was decided
that a certain amount of leniency was in order.

It had been a difficult collection, and the fine men and women in that
highly specialized division deserved commendation.  The young woman's
security was top notch, undoubtedly costing her a ton of money, but in
the end the patience and professionalism of the TYTC Collections Team
paid off.  In fact she was being unloaded and transported to Recovery
at that very moment, and it seemed that everyone knew about it.  The
hallways and corridors of the massive underground complex fairly
buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

"Well, Boss, do you think we can pull it off?" Rick Adams asked
good-naturedly of the man seated opposite him behind a big oaken desk.

Adam North, the Headmaster of the Center thought for a moment before
answering as was his custom.  Then with an ironic smile he said to his
Chief Handler, "Don't you think it's a little late to be worrying
about that?  She's in Recovery as we speak and is due here for her
"Double I" within the hour."  After a thoughtful interlude the
Headmaster went on.  "Consider this, Rick.  She's no different than
any other female in a purely anatomical sense.  So I don't see any
reason why our program shouldn't work for her as flawlessly as it's
worked for countless other young ladies for nearly two decades."

Rick understood the logic behind his employer's statement, but still
he had his doubts.  "What about her age?" he challenged.

Again there was a period of silence preceding North's response.
"Granted, her advanced age is troublesome.  She's had what... nineteen
years, during which time she's no doubt developed some very bad
habits.  We all know that much past the age of fourteen, members of
the `fairer sex' can become pretty stubborn and set in their ways,"
North stated, thinking out loud.  "Couple that with her considerable
wealth and celebrity, pour in an extra dose of good looks, and we have
all the makings for a real challenge, don't we?" he asked his second
in command with a wry smile.

"Yes we do, Boss," Rick answered with a nod and a sigh.  "But if we're
successful, imagine what a marketing coup this will be for us."  Both
men nodded then sat in silence for a time.

"I think we have to focus on the positive side," Adam North began when
the intercom extension on his desk chirped.  He picked up the receiver
and held it to his ear.  "Uh, huh.. Uh, huh," he muttered.  "Very
well, send her down.  Two escorts please, and track down Mark Haskel.
Tell him we're ready for him."  His voice carried a sense of authority
and power that had been absent during his earlier conversation with
Rick Adams.  Now, however, it was time to get down to business.  North
replaced the receiver in its cradle.

"I'm giving her over to you, Rick," the Headmaster stated for the
record.  "I'd like for you to be her Principal Handler.  Additionally,
I'm assigning Mark Haskel to her team.  He'll work under your
direction and supervision, but I believe Mark possesses qualities
which might be useful in helping our newest Guest to concentrate.
After all, she has a lot to `unlearn'," North added with another wry
smile.

"I appreciate your vote of confidence," Rick Adams said to his
superior.  "I've worked with Mark before, and I know that he's quite
competent and very thorough.  Don't worry, Boss.  We'll make you
proud," Rick assured the TYTC Headmaster.

"I know you will," North replied then glanced at his wristwatch.  "She
should be here any minute." Another moment of silence followed before
Rick spoke up in order to break the growing tension in the air.

"Her new owner is the guy who I don't envy," he said with a chuckle.
"Even with the benefits of our training, this little lady's going to
be difficult to keep under wraps."

"Not if he can keep her under the sheets," North shot back with his
legendary dry sense of humor, and both men laughed good naturedly.
Then there came a knock upon the door.

"Come," North spoke curtly.

The heavy wooden door opened abruptly and through it walked a large
man dressed in white coveralls.  Turning as he entered, the man looked
back, awaiting his charge.

The girl looked a little dazed which was certainly to be expected
considering the rather large dose of tranquilizer she'd received upon
collection.  She did not, however accept the assistance of her escorts
and stepped boldly into the unfamiliar office surroundings followed by
a second man dressed in identical clothing to the first, the same
clothing, as a matter of fact, that Rick Adams wore; the spotless,
white coveralls of a TYTC Handler.

Adam North stood.  "Welcome.  Do come in, my dear," he said politely.
He then held up a hand when she started to respond.  Adam North
enjoyed a mysterious power over young women, and this girl was
apparently no exception, for she fell silent instantly, never uttering
a sound.  "We've been looking forward to your visit for quite some
time now.  You posed a considerable challenge for the good people of
our Collections Department, but I'm happy to see that they were at
last able to arrange for you to join us," he said with a smile.  "I do
hope that you will come to enjoy your stay."  He took his seat and
opened a file folder which lay on the desk blotter in front of him.

Anna was extremely confused.  For the life of her, she couldn't
remember how she'd arrived in this place.  She recalled going out for
her usual morning run through the posh south Florida neighborhood
where she resided for part of the year.  She'd quickly outdistanced
Stephan, her bodyguard, as usual, even though she'd been cautioned
repeatedly about personal security and the need to be vigilant at all
times when she was out in public.

"We can't do our job, if you insist upon thwarting our security
measures, Miss," Gerald, her Head of Security, had admonished her just
yesterday.

Anna was seriously considering firing the man.  "He's such a pest.  I
pay him a fortune, and for what?  All he ever does is tell me what to
do!"  

More than once she'd been forced to explain to the head security man
that the palatial estate in which she lived was built like a fortress,
and that the neighboring property owners were all extremely wealthy
and equally concerned about their own privacy and security.  "Why else
do you think I paid almost three million to live here, Gerald?" she'd
asked the professional man in an arrogant and patronizing tone of
voice.  Anna was not used to answering to many people, and certainly
not to those for whom she'd paid good money.

The elegant estates in Anna's neighborhood were walled and gated and
set back from the immaculately landscaped lane lined with huge Banyan
trees and interspersed with Queen palms.  The marksman was well
concealed, yet commanded a clear view of the shaded street below.  He
recognized his target immediately when she rounded the curve
approximately twenty meters distant from his position.  He'd been
informed by spotters placed strategically along the subject's route
that she was in the clear.  "Ready collection?" he queried in a
whisper.

"Roger that," came the hushed reply in his earpiece.

"Taking the shot," the marksman spoke softly to the rest of his team
as he applied gradual pressure to the trigger of the sophisticated
pneumatic rifle.  Fifteen meters away a tiny red dot danced
momentarily on the flank of his target.  There was no recoil and no
report as the red marker of the targeting laser was instantly replaced
by a small dart-like projectile which protruded from the shining
surface of spandex covering her right hip.  The marksman watched as
she skipped one step, glancing down at the sudden source of
discomfort.  Then she dropped.

"Subject down," the shooter whispered into his tiny mic.  There was no
verbal acknowledgment, but in the lane an unmarked white van appeared,
seemingly from out of nowhere.  Had anyone been around to witness the
operation, they most certainly would have been impressed, for in less
than a minute the nondescript service vehicle pulled away, leaving the
shaded street silent and empty.  

Two blocks away the safety shooter lowered his weapon and disappeared
into the wooded area behind his position.  His services would not be
required that day.  On the street below the young body guard raced to
catch up with his errant charge.  "Damn that blond bitch!" he hissed
under his labored breathing.  Then silently he promised himself that
he would step up his sprinting drills.

Anna awoke on a cot in a medical facility of some sort.  The walls and
floor were white tiled and there were several stainless steel cabinets
arranged around the perimeter of the room.  No sooner had she opened
her eyes it seemed, than a young man dressed in white entered the
room.  Anna recalled thinking that he was rather good looking.  

"Feeling better?" the man inquired politely.

"I... Where?" Anna tried to sit up, and immediately the room began to
spin crazily.

"Whoa! Take it easy there, young lady.  Just lie still for awhile
longer.  You're gonna be just fine," the orderly instructed her.

Anna didn't argue with him.  Suddenly she felt terrible.  She was weak
and shaking and felt mildly nauseous.  "I hope I'm not hurt or
anything," she reflected groggily before drifting off again.

She had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but when next she
regained consciousness, she felt a little better.  When Anna opened
her eyes she found that she was in the same room on the same cot, and
the same young orderly was leaning over her.  Out of the corner of her
eye, Anna noticed him quickly return his hand to his side.  As she
gazed up into his dark eyes, suddenly an inherently female alarm
sounded in her subconscious.  "Had he... had he been... been...
touching me?" a panicky little voice in her mind cried.  Then her
reason stepped in and assured her that she was obviously mistaken.
"No way," she'd quickly managed to convince herself.

"Welcome back," the orderly said in a friendly voice.  His smile was
warm and genuine.  "If you're feeling up to it, there are some folks
who would like to make your acquaintance."

"I... I guess I'm OK," Anna replied.  Her accent was unmistakable.  A
thousand questions came to mind, but all she could manage in her
current state of grogginess was, "Where am I?"  

The young man smiled pleasantly and said, "Come with me, please, Miss,
and all of your questions will be answered."  Then he held out his
hand to her and helped her up.

The orderly led her from the exam room and out into a wide corridor
where another man dressed in white materialized out of nowhere and
fell in behind them.  Anna recalled thinking that she was really being
given the VIP treatment.  "This is some hospital," she said casually
as she was led down the empty corridor.  Her attendants didn't
comment.

All of the hallways had been cleared between the Recovery Room and the
Headmaster's Office as was the routine during new admissions to avoid
unnecessarily upsetting the new Guests.  As a result, Anna arrived at
the door of the office of The Headmaster of The Youth Training Center
without incident.

"Let's see, Miss Kournikova," Adam North began reading out loud from
the file folder.  "According to our records, you are nineteen years of
age.  You are five feet, eight inches tall and weigh approximately one
hundred twenty-three pounds.  Blond hair, natural I assume, and green
eyes," North continued down the list of personal statistics.  Then
looking up at Anna he made a curious remark.  "We'll need to get a few
additional measurements and statistics from you a little later."
North returned his attention to the file, ignoring the rather
impertinent look she directed at him.  "Currently dating one Sergei
Fedorov, favorite dessert is chocolate ice cream, nickname Murzik,
menstrual cycle starts around the fifth of each month."

His last statement got Anna's attention.  "Who are you people, and
what do you want? When will I be allowed to go?  I have a very busy
schedule, in case you didn't know," she stated, her inherent
arrogance, beginning to rear its ugly head.

"All in good time, Miss Kournikova," North responded calmly.  "And
yes, indeed you do have a busy schedule, my dear, so I suggest we get
started right away.  Oh, and by the way, I love your accent."  He
smiled warmly at the slightly miffed and confused young woman.

Glancing at the two large, white clad men who flanked the lovely blond
tennis star, North said curtly, "Ted, Curtis, if you would be so kind
as to assist Miss Kournikova we'll begin the Interview."

"I.. What the...?" Anna sputtered in surprise as the two attendants
seized her arms.

Just then there came another knock at the door.

"Come," Adam North responded.

"Let me go, you big ape!" Anna snarled at the man on her left as she
tried unsuccessfully to wrench her wrist free from his powerful grip.
She was not accustomed to being touched or handled without her
expressed permission.

"Ah, Mark, here you are," North said cordially, ignoring the struggle
going on in front of his desk.

"And just in time, it appears," Mark Haskel said with a grin.  The
Handler moved gracefully for a man of his stature.  As he stepped
through the door, he was forced to duck his head.  Mark Haskel was
just over six and a half feet tall, weighed nearly three hundred
pounds and not an ounce of it was fat.  Behind him, Mark rolled a
stainless steel frame which looked like a coat rack on casters.
"Thought I might bring this along in case we need it," Mark said. 

"We might very well need it," Rick Adams said, rising from his seat.
"Good to see you again, Mark," he said, side stepping around the
struggling young woman and her two attendants.  Shaking hands with the
big man, Rick marveled at the fact that his own hand, which was fairly
large, was completely swallowed up by Mark's huge paw.  

"The man's a bear," Rick thought to himself.  Rick had seen him in
action on several occasions, though, and despite his enormous frame,
the Mark Haskel was as agile as any man could be, and surprisingly
gentle as well.

"I've had just about enough of this!" Anna spat when Rick stepped in
front of her.  "I don't know who you are or what kind of operation
you're running here, but if you don't release me this instant, there's
gonna be hell to pay!" she threatened bravely.  Anna had been trained
in self-defense and wasn't afraid to make use of her skills.

Rick was willing to be tolerant of misbehavior to a degree, in light
of the celebrity of their new Guest, but he certainly was not
interested in making a bad impression in the eyes of the Headmaster or
his peers.  Rick stared evenly at the young woman and said, "We
understand that you are accustomed to receiving preferential
treatment, Miss Kournikova."  His statement seemed to have a calming
effect upon the pretty Russian as he glanced covertly at the two
Handlers who stood to either side of her.  

Although Anna had ceased her struggles for the moment, the two men
maintained a light hold on her arms.  They had, naturally been briefed
about their Guest's abilities and training, and as a result they
remained focused and ready to take appropriate action if necessary.
When the two men saw Rick's unspoken signal, they readied  themselves,
but not in such a way as to alert or alarm their Guest.

"In answer to your question regarding who we are, Miss Kournikova,"
Rick began.  "You are presently a guest of The Youth Training Center,
and I am the Senior Handler here second in command only to our
Headmaster, Mr. North," Rick explained as he turned and acknowledged
his superior with a polite nod.  "While you are with us at TYTC, you
may rest assured that you will receive very special treatment, from
myself and my staff."  Rick noted that her expression brightened a
little.  "If you have any difficulties during your stay with us, I
hope that you will let me know right away so that appropriate action
can be taken.  It is our sincere desire that your time with us be as
productive as possible.  I hope I am making myself clear, Miss
Kournikova."

Anna gazed into the young man's dark eyes.  He seemed genuine and
confident, and Anna felt a certain unexplainable attraction to him.
She nodded her understanding.

"Excellent," Rick said with a smile.  "Then we may begin.  Mark if you
would take over please," Rick said, glancing in the big man's
direction.  Then turning back to Anna, "Mark will be working with you
throughout your stay with us, Miss Kournikova.  Mark has been with us
for many years, and I'm certain that you will come to appreciate his
considerable talents."  With that, Rick moved aside to make room for
Mark Haskel.

On either side of the comely Russian, her two attendants braced
themselves.  Anna actually had to tip her head back in order to look
into the big man's eyes when he stepped before her.  There was no way
Anna could have prepared herself for what happened next, and the
professional man naturally gave her no warning.  As she gazed up into
his cool blue eyes, Anna was actually thinking that this giant of a
man was somewhat attractive, when the unthinkable happened.  

"Good morning, Miss Kournikova," Mark Haskel said in an even tone of
voice while maintaining a perfectly neutral expression.  He had to
stoop ever so slightly in order to reach her, but as casually as one
would shake hands with another, Mark forced his big right hand between
the unsuspecting blond's legs and clamped it firmly over the most
private area of any girl's body. 

At first, Anna was too stunned to move.  Her facial expression,
however, changed fairly quickly from one of curiosity, to astonishment
and then soon after, to one of fury.  In addition to a startled
squeak, Anna's immediate reaction was to take a swing at the overtly
presumptuous man.  Instantly, however, she realized that her arms were
held fast by the two men who flanked her.  Then as she felt the man
begin to kneed her intimate flesh through the thin fabric of her
spandex running pants, Anna tried to lash out with one foot in an
attempted front kick.  Unfortunately for her, the blow was blocked
most efficiently by the man to her left, who seemed to somehow
anticipate her move.  Anna shrieked a string of profanities, many of
which were in her native tongue, as the big man in white continued to
manipulate her where no one had ever before dared touch her without
her direct permission.

There followed a period where time became compressed.  Perhaps because
she was in a mild state of shock, Anna would later be unable to
clearly recall the exact sequence events which led to her being
effectively restrained at the ankles and wrists to a stainless steel
frame affectionately know as the "A-Frame", the "A" standing for
"Acceptance".  Her curses and cries of protest continued until Anna
was nearly exhausted and stood gasping for breath and perspiring
profusely.  Feeling the cool steel of the bar which crossed behind her
shoulders, Anna continued to struggle ineffectually against the
restraining device for several minutes, glaring malignantly at those
men standing within her field of vision.

"Let me go!" she snarled at the giant of a man named Mark who, during
the process of restraining her, had thankfully dropped his hand from
between her legs.  But for Anna, the insult remained fresh, and in her
mind she could still feel his touch.  "Don't you come near me!" she
hissed, when in answer to her demands the big man in white stepped
closer.  So close in fact that as he went about checking the velcro
restraint bands at Anna's wrists and elbows, his massive body pressed
against hers, causing her to cringe in disgust.

"Be still, Miss Kournikova," Mark said, sternly, but not in an unkind
way as he adjusted the restraint cuff which bound her right upper arm
to the shining horizontal bar of the A-Frame.  "You will learn many
things during your stay with us, and one of them is manners," Mark
said casually.  "We have a few simple rules or standards which we
expect our Guests to abide by," he explained.  One such standard,
number five to be exact, states that Guests shall not speak unless
instructed to do so.  Do I make myself clear, Miss Kournikova?" 

Anna stared at the man in utter disbelief, and for the first time in a
long time, she was speechless.

"We have eight Non-negotiable Standards at The Youth Training Center,"
Mark went on to explain as he stepped back and made a quick visual
inspection of the bands around the young woman's ankles.  "And as time
goes on, you will become familiar with each and every one of them.
And I might add, Miss Kournikova," Mark continued evenly in spite of
the vicious look she gave him.  "These standards as well as most all
of our rules and regulations regarding Guest behavior are not
debatable.  Disregard for them will not be tolerated," Mark stated
unequivocally. 

Anna Kournikova was not in the habit of taking orders from anyone, and
in addition, she was fiercely competitive to the point of being
combative at times.  So in spite of the fact that she was bound
spread-eagled to the four corners of the hateful A-Frame device by her
wrists and ankles with additional restraint bands around her arms just
above her elbows, Anna refused to submit.  She would fight these men
to the bitter end.  Somehow, some way, she would manage to beat them.
"Sooner or later she would break free of their clutches, and then
there would be hell to pay!" she silently vowed.

Anna, of course, was not alone in these sorts of rebellious
sentiments.  Adam North had seen these and other such behavioral
patterns manifest themselves time and time again in the newly admitted
Guests during their Induction Interviews.  Many young ladies reacted
in exactly the same manner as the young tennis star, with wrathfulness
and threats, vulgar language and fits of rage interspersed with tears
of dismay, and at times with violence.  Others attempted to elicit
pity from their Handlers and Attendants, using beguiling pleas and
prolonged crying jags in an effort to express their displeasure at
being handled against their wills, many for the first time ever.

North recalled a pair of twin sisters who to everyone's surprise
reacted completely oppositely to their initial indoctrination, and
continued to do so throughout their stay at the Center.  The Nesbit
twins, Marina and Melanie, had been fourteen years old at the time.
This is a very impressionable age for a young lady, and widely
considered to be the ideal age for a girl to begin the TYTC Program.
Breaking protocol, North had elected to administer the "Double I" to
the twin girls together rather than one at a time as was the norm.
Alex, who was his right hand man in those days had been in charge, so
North had little worry that all would go well, which it had,
naturally.  The only surprise, which hadn't really represented a
problem, per se, was the way the two sisters responded so differently
to treatment.

Marina Nesbit, who was the more precocious of the two siblings, had
reacted with the expected alarm and rage usually associated with
initial contact.  Melanie, the demure sister, on the other hand, had
become almost catatonic under the expert touch of the then Senior
Handler, basically allowing him to have his way with her without
opposition.  Two identical twins; two distinctly different reactions
to the Program.  

What was interesting moreover, was that although the two girls had a
known history of competitiveness with one another, when Marina Nesbit
had sensed that her sister's well being was threatened, she'd
attempted to come to her aid even at the expense of her own comfort
level, demonstrating that a very strong emotional bond existed between
the two girls.  This bond soon became the focus of a special
behavioral study.  The daily conditioning routines of the two sisters
had been modified such that their performance could be monitored
together as well as with separate Handlers.  

Alone Melanie Nesbit had quickly become the darling of the Center due
to her sweet and accommodating nature.  However, when the two sisters
were brought together under the tutelage of a single Handler, things
changed dramatically.  Marina, who throughout her program of
conditioning, remained renitent and unobliging, oddly enough became
more accommodating in a group setting, presumably in order to spare
her sibling the perceived emotional stress of being handled against
her will.  Melanie, who had progressed to the point where she
appreciated the attentions of many of her partners at the Center,
responded to her sister's unrequested attempts to protect her by
becoming even more precocious and seductive.  Together the two
fourteen year olds were very entertaining indeed.  In fact, for
several weeks, Adam North had taken the Nesbit sisters under his wing
and had shared much of his considerable personal knowledge and
experience with the two lovely girls.

The TYTC Headmaster sat calmly behind his desk, monitoring the
progress of Anna Kournikova's Induction Interview.  He watched with
pride as his staff members went about systematically removing her
clothing.  They used EMT style shears to cut away the expensive
spandex running attire she'd been picked up in, for as is stated in
another of the TYTC Standards, "Guests shall remain disrobed at all
times."  In other words, the pretty blond tennis star would not be
needing her clothing any more after this morning.  

As North expected after having read her dossier carefully, Miss
Kournikova persisted in her rebellious behavior even after having been
forcibly stripped.  For many young ladies, finding themselves suddenly
disrobed among a group of strangers will put a "chink in their armor",
so to speak.  Being both unclothed and restrained tends to instill a
sense of vulnerability in a girl that can evolve into the first
turning point along the road to a new self-image.  But not so with
Anna.  In fact, even as her stylish running shoes were being cut from
her feet, she stared straight at North with the unmistakable glint of
defiance in her green eyes.  Adam North wasn't interested in Anna's
eyes just now, though.

"Take your hands off me, you monsters!" Anna screamed, her accent
unmistakable in her present state of unrest.  She refused to believe
that any of this was happening to her, after all the money she'd spent
on security and body guards and self-defense training.  But now, in
spite of her best efforts to resist, Anna found herself bound hand and
foot to an apparatus of obviously evil design and unable to prevent
these horrible, disrespectful men from stripping her naked and ruining
her expensive running outfit in the process.  The fact that they'd
actually cut away her clothing incensed Anna almost as much as being
forcibly disrobed. 

"Silence, Miss Kournikova!" Mark ordered in a powerful voice, and to
her never ending surprise, the blond tennis star immediately fell
silent.  She stood blinking stupidly up at the huge man, not knowing
what to do next.

It took many months of hard work and training to master the Command
Tones, and Mark Haskel was one of the best.  Considered by many to be
a martial art form, voice command inflection was a powerful tool if
used properly.  The technique required perfect control of voice
modulation and could confound and confuse a Guest, rendering her
temporarily immobilized for several seconds, giving the Handler or
Attendant time to act.  As an added benefit, the emotional impact of
being suddenly thrust into state of submissiveness with nothing more
than a spoken word, was undeniable.  

In fact, Anna was in the process of considering that very concept when
the man put his hand on her again.  For several seconds Anna was too
stunned to react to the renewed trespass on her person, but as her
green eyes began to widen in utter disbelief, the rage welled up
within her.

"Good morning, Miss Kournikova," Mark Haskel stated for the second
time that morning as he separated his fingers into two pairs, sliding
each pair over one of the young woman's labia majora.  Anna's reaction
was tempestuous as expected, but the A-Frame lived up to its
reputation and effectively prevented the blond tennis star from
injuring herself or her Handler.  Mark rested his left hand on the
horizontal bar of the A-Frame next to Anna's right elbow and studied
her facial expression closely as with his right hand the Handler
pressed upward against her substantial labia.  He was careful not to
lean too close and risk a head butt from the irate young woman as she
thrashed and spat and screeched obscenities in Russian.  

Mark's manual attentions were by no means random.  To the contrary,
the professional man manipulated Anna's most private flesh in a very
systematic manner.  Making a mental note regarding the texture and
consistency of his subject's pubic covering, Mark continued with the
regimen known as the TYTC Standard Greeting.  Between upward
palpations of the labia majora, the Handler alternately spread his
fingers and closed them together, in turn opening and closing the
young woman repeatedly.  Mark took care not to accidentally allow his
fingers to slip between his subject's heavy outer lips until he was
ready to enter her.  

"You bastards!" Anna screamed, her face not six inches from that of
her attacker.  "Let me go!" she snarled viciously.

Totally ignoring her heated outbursts, Mark commented almost casually
to his colleagues, "She has an splendid, full coat."  He then began to
tug playfully at her tight, golden curls, thoroughly incensing and
enraging the head strong Russian celebrity.  "Did anyone notice that
she's trimmed herself into the shape of a heart?" Mark added, smiling
at the young blond as he brushed the backs of his fingers gently from
side to side over the surface of her pubic fur.  "Did you do that for
Mr. Fedorov, my dear?" the Handler asked in a condescending tone. 

"Fuck you!" Anna hissed then spat in the man's face.

Mark had lost track of the number of times his angry young charges had
spit on him.  In fact, he was surprised if they didn't do it at least
once during every session of their early training.  Mark brought his
hand up and wiped the smear of liquid from his cheek with his
fingertips.  Then while he stared directly into the young woman's
wrathful green eyes, he licked the spittle from his fingers and
smiled.  As predicted, his action left the girl speechless with a
mixture of shock and disgust.  Then he reached out unexpectedly and
placed his hand almost tenderly onto Anna's cheek.  "Your `hairdo' is
very pretty, my dear," Mark murmured as though the spitting incident
never happened.  He was forced to jerk his hand away when Anna turned
and tried to bite him, but by then the Handler had already scored
several emotional points in the cat and mouse game associated with
introductory female conditioning.  "She's a feisty one.  That's for
sure," Mark thought to himself as he squatted down in front of the
young tennis star.  

Placing his hands onto the tops of Anna's hips, the Handler pressed
inward on her pelvic crests then squeezed the resilient flesh behind
them, known affectionately as "love handles".  "Broad pelvic
structure," Mark stated in a clinical tone, knowing that someone in
the room would be taking notes.  "Somewhat heavy waisted," the Handler
commented, noting Anna's overall physique.  "But all in all, a fairly
utilitarian anatomy," Mark added almost casually.  

The young blond remained reasonably still while he examined her
pelvis, but when Mark pressed his fingertips to the center of her
pubic bone just above the upper edge of Anna's soft, golden heart, she
went ballistic.  Screeching and cursing at the top of her lungs, the
irate young woman twisted her body and thrashed her hips from side to
side within the limits the A-Frame would allow, making it rather
difficult for Mark to finish his inspection.  Turning to Rick Adams,
the big Handler said, "I think we'd better CAP her right away, or
we're gonna be here all day."

"I agree," Rick replied and rose from his seat.

"And while you're up, let's get her started on Thelazine," Mark added
as his colleague headed for a cabinet on the far side of the office.

"You're the boss," Rick responded, smiling over his shoulder at his
fellow Handler.

Meanwhile Mark did his best to complete his immediate task of
determining the size of Anna's pubic arch which was an integral part
of the process involved in assessing a girl's "Carrying Capacity".
Working from the center Mark traced in one direction along the line of
tight curls with his fingers, compressing the resilient flesh against
the gracefully curving structure beneath until he reached her thigh.
Then he repeated the procedure in the opposite direction.  Next Mark
placed the tip of his index finger at the top center of Anna's pubic
covering, and with his thumb he located the top of Anna's carnal
cleft.  "Wow!  Nearly two inches," the Handler muttered to himself,
estimating the distance between.  "Excellent breadth and prominence,"
Mark reported for the record.

 From across the room Rick Adams called to his partner who was still
kneeling in front of the thrashing blond.  "What size do you want to
start her on," Mark?"  Rick turned and looked at the row of torpedo
shaped devices arranged neatly by order of size on the middle shelf of
the supply cabinet.  While he awaited Mark's reply, Rick took one of
the many small, cylindrical auto-injectors located on the top shelf
and dropped it into the top pocket of his coveralls.

Mark knew full well the girl would react badly to his next action, but
it simply had to be done.  The C.A.P. Device is an extremely effective
training aid provided the correct size is used.  Granted, Miss
Kournikova would be measured much more thoroughly later on and if
necessary, she would be re-sized accordingly, but for now a rough
estimate was required.  

Seated at his desk, Adam North felt a tremendous sense of pride as he
watched the dedicated men of his staff function like a well oiled
machine.  Men such as these were as rare now-a-days as they were
exceptional, and it did his heart good to see them work closely as a
team. 

Anticipating his colleague's needs, Curtis stepped up behind the young
woman, and grasped her firmly by the hips.

"What the...?" Anna croaked hoarsely as she turned and stared at the
man behind her.

At that exact moment while the young blond was distracted by Curtis,
Mark reached between her legs.  With practiced ease he located her
clitoral hood with his thumb.  Then sliding the tip of his first
finger back and between the girl's ample buttocks, Mark quickly found
Anna's puckered anal portal.

"Let's try a size six," Mark shouted above the caterwauling that
continued even after he removed his hand from the girl.

"Size six it is," Rick responded good naturedly and reached for one of
the small, black instruments in the cabinet.  Glancing at the butt end
of the little torpedo, Rick noted the numeral six embossed in the
specially formulated composite material.  

This number represents the distance, in inches, between a young lady's
clitoris and her anus which is how the C.A.P. Devices are sized.
Their diameter varies according to their length such that the change
in volume of one size CAP as compared to another remains consistent.
The size six CAP is approximately three quarters of an inch in
diameter at its largest section.

[Author's Note: A great deal of information and history is written
about the Continuous Anal Presence Program and C.A.P. Devices in
previous chapters of The Youth Training Center saga.  The CAP
principle and use of these extraordinary devices plays a major role in
the conditioning program of every Guest of the Center. - SM]

Having completed his examination of the nineteen year old in the areas
of her anatomy below her waist, Mark regained his feet with a
noticeable groan and cracking of his knees.  Turning to the Headmaster
the big Handler shrugged his broad shoulders.  "It's hell getting
old," he said with a grin.

"You're doing an outstanding job," Adam North said, complimenting the
man.  North's personnel management skills were second to none, and all
of his staff members respected and admired him.

Anna's most recent tirade subsided to a degree once the two monsters
took their hands off of her.  She was shaken by the outrageous
invasion on her person, but her spirit was far from broken.  "These
people are completely insane," she thought to herself as she listened
to the big man and the one behind the desk exchange pleasantries as
though they were simply passing the time of day.  Although her
situation appeared grave, to say the least, Anna remained confident
that she would eventually prevail over these demonic maniacs.  If
nothing else, the authorities had to be searching for her at this very
moment, and sooner or later she would doubtlessly be found and freed.
"Then I'll make them all pay for their insults and perversions," she
silently vowed.  Anna was a wealthy young woman, and she'd met a lot
of very influential people.  A couple of names came to mind as she
stood bound to the hateful A-Frame, awaiting the next round of the
match.  Names of men who associated in circles that were, shall we
say, frowned upon by the gentry of South Florida.  These men were not
to be toyed with except in ways that only a member of the "fairer sex"
would dare, and over the years the comely Russian had become an expert
at wielding "the power of pretty".   

Anna felt a renewed sense of power and confidence as she watched the
giant of a man turn toward her.  "Dig deep, Murzik," she heard her
coach say.

"Let's have a look at these," the big man in white said, reaching for
her.  "They look larger on TV," Mark said with a smirk as he slid his
hands beneath Anna's breasts and hefted the two golden orbs
indifferently.  "Obviously you sunbathe in the nude, my dear," the
Handler said, as he slid his thumbs up over the areolae and then
pressed inward on the nipples.  Marc noted that there wasn't a tan
line on her.

"That's most fortunate, Miss Kournikova," the man behind the big desk
added with a wry smile.  

Momentarily disregarding her assailant, Anna stared at him in
disbelief.  She had correctly assumed that this was the man in charge.
He hadn't said much thus far, but he'd taken a keen interest in every
detail of the atrocities the others perpetrated upon her.  "Mr.
North," Anna reminded herself.  She would not forget that name, and
when the time came, she would make arrangements with her South Florida
"acquaintances" to have Mr. North dealt with in a suitable fashion.

Mark clearly recognized the expression of calculated hatred on her
face as the blond tennis star stared past him at his boss.  "My, my,
but aren't we the head strong one," Mark thought to himself.  She
would be a challenge, but Mark enjoyed a challenge.  Even as he hefted
her nicely rounded breasts, noting their weight and composition, the
lovely Russian girl raised her eyes confidently.  "She's a proud one,
alright," Mark noted.  "She's practically ignoring me," the big
Handler marveled as he watched Anna watch his boss.  He considered
applying a bit more pressure to the firmer mammary glands he felt
beneath the fatty breast tissue in an effort to gain her attention,
but thought better of it.  Mark knew that in a matter of minutes Anna
would be given her first dose of the wonder drug, Thelazine, and soon
thereafter she would become much more attuned to her "inner female".

"I beg your pardon," Anna responded to Adam North's comment.  Her
voice was clear and steady, surprising even Mark.

"I said it's fortunate that you appear to be accustomed to spending
time in the nude, Miss Kournikova," the Headmaster repeated patiently.

"And w..why is that?" Anna retorted, wincing slightly when Mark
pinched the lower edge of her right areola.  Steeling herself, the
blond athlete disregarded Mark's attentions and concentrated on the
man behind the desk.  She was down love thirty and needed to keep her
wits about her.

Adam North, as was his habit, paused in silence as he regarded the
headstrong young blond.  North, like every man in the employ of the
Center, had through exhaustive study and training, developed the
ability to read a woman's body language like one would read the
morning newspaper.  He too noticed the unmistakable glint of challenge
in the girl's eye and recognized the air of confidence in her stance.

So far, Miss Anna Kournikova was proving to be as defiant as he'd
anticipated, but Adam North wasn't at all worried.  Over the years
he'd witnessed some very impressive attempts at resistance.   Bravery
and belligerence, willfulness and wanton hostility, yes he'd
definitely seen it all.  North had been struck and spat upon, kicked,
scratched and bitten, but in the end, each and every one of his
contentious young ladies had come around.  

At times even Adam North marveled at the effectiveness of the TYTC
Program, but "the proof was in the pudding," as they say.  Since 1986,
The Youth Training Center had enlightened literally hundreds of young
women of all ages, re-acquainting them with their "inner female" and
restoring them to sanity and normality.  With the exception of a
single unanticipated situation which reared its ugly head about a year
ago, the TYTC record of achievement remained unblemished.  The afore
mentioned incident involved the recall of a group of Guests and was
dealt with promptly and efficiently to the satisfaction of all
concerned parties.  Although the Center's methodology had undergone
many changes through the years, thanks in part to the development of
some truly remarkable systems and devices, the underlying premise
remained the same.  Unshakably based in doctrine which has withstood
the test of time, the TYTC Mission Statement says it all:

"We believe that today's `modern woman' has become misaligned.
Everything we see in the media today places the physical beauty of the
female of our species upon an unreachable pedestal.  Males, on the
other hand, are frequently portrayed as buffoons, and are the only
group remaining that it is politically correct to ridicule.  It is our
mission to remedy this embarrassing situation and restore the female
to her rightful position in society.  Our methods are not cruel.  Not
a single one of our Guests has ever been harmed.  Our training
philosophy is based upon the following premise:

Given a suitable amount of sexual impetus by a partner, partners or
apparatus, employing the proper techniques, for an adequate period of
time, any female, regardless of the circumstances of her involvement,
will eventually become an active and willing participant in the
relationship."

Armed with these immutable truths, the dedicated men and recently, a
few women, of The Youth Training Center perform their duties and
fulfill their individual callings with conviction and assuredness.
Adam North had every right to marvel at the TYTC Program, for it was
indeed marvelous.

"Because, my dear Miss Kournikova," the TYTC Headmaster began, resting
his elbows on his desk for effect.  "For the next few months, or until
such a time as we decide that you are ready to begin your new life,
you will remain disrobed at all times."  Anticipating an argument,
North held up his hand, cutting the young woman off in mid breath.  "I
realize that much of what has been said thus far sounds like madness
to you, but in a surprisingly short period of time I feel certain that
you will come to appreciate our methods and see the wisdom behind our
teachings."  Again, the Headmaster paused.  Then with a warm smile he
said, "Welcome, Miss Kournikova, to our TYTC family."

Following his customary thoughtful pause Adam North spoke to his
confederate in a more businesslike tone of voice.  "You may proceed,
Mark."

Mark in turn glanced at Rick Adams who had discretely positioned
himself directly behind the blond tennis star.  An unspoken message
passed between the two professional men, and as Mark grasped Anna's
nipples in his powerful fingers, Rick's hand dropped behind her.

Anna who was still wrestling with the ominous words spoken by the
Headmaster, never saw it coming.  "Months!" she repeated over and over
in her head.  "Months, he said!  I'm going to be held prisoner in this
madhouse for months!" Anna considered as the first inklings of
trepidation crept into her heart like icy fingers.  

Mark noted the signs of apprehension in the girl's facial expression
and knew that he and his associates were on the right track.  Still
holding her by the nipples, Mark reminded himself, "She's no different
than any other female," and began to shake Anna's shapely breasts
rapidly from side to side.  He made a mental note to schedule her for
an EFIRS evaluation, based upon the consistency of her breast mass, as
he watched the rage flash in her green eyes.  "That's it, little one.
Look this way," Mark thought.  "Just one more second..."

"Snick" 

It was the distinctive sound made by the auto-injector as it
discharged its contents into the firm flesh of the girl's right
buttock, and it was followed as usual by a surprised squeak from the
handsome blond Guest.  

Turning quickly, Anna saw the man named Rick drop the spent instrument
into his breast pocket.  When he only smiled at her and didn't speak,
Anna snapped her head around and faced the big man in front of her.
Bristling with indignation, the tennis star fairly hissed at Mark.
"Drugs!  You cowards are gonna use drugs on me."  Then she shot her
gaze about the big office, lancing each of the perverted monsters in
white with an icy stare.  She felt panic swell in her heart and mind
as she waited to swoon.  "Would they rape her?  Would they all have
their way with her?"  Anna struggled to control herself and regain her
composure.  She'd had to do it innumerable times on the tennis court,
and once again Anna had to dig deep, forcing herself to calm down
enough to think.  

Suddenly Anna imagined herself lying unconscious on the floor.
Between her widely splayed legs a figure in white hammered away at her
while others waited their turn in a line that stretched off into
infinity.  Then to her dismay, the dreamscape shifted and Anna saw
herself awaken and reach out to her phantom lover.  The first hint of
self-doubt trickled into her psyche as Anna envisioned herself
beginning to participate in the nightmare coupling.  Rolling her hips
wantonly, she encouraged her devil in white, pulling him closer and
locking her legs around him.  All the while Adam North, the head demon
of them all sat silently at his dream desk, observing the proceedings
and smiling knowingly as Anna witnessed herself becoming increasingly
more aroused.  Those early twinges of self-doubt forming at the roots
of Anna's subconscious were just beginning to evolve into a healthy,
budding sense of self-loathing when the nineteen year old tennis star
was abruptly snapped back into the present by the feeling of a man's
hand between her thighs.

"Welcome back, Miss Kournikova," Mark said politely as he parted his
fingers and pressed upward on either side of her carnal cleft,
compressing the resilient flesh of her meaty labia majora.  

Based upon the initial findings of his previous external tactile
examination of the young Russian, Mark judged that Anna had a
reasonably good "carrying capacity", and soon he would begin the
internal portion of her induction interview which would reveal a good
bit more about the young lady.  Later, of course, she would undergo a
more extensive internal examination at which time the precise volume
of each of Anna's abdominal passages would be accurately measured,
using a brand new device known as the Portal Micrometer, a state of
the art version of the old Vaginal Micrometer. Her individual passage
volumes would then be added together and recorded in her permanent
file as her initial total passage volume, expressed in cubic
centimeters.  

This benchmark data would be used to determine Anna's training
routines.  The frequency that she would be expected to accept partners
each day, be they human or mechanical, would then be adjusted up or
down accordingly.  

The goal with Anna, as with every Guest of the Center, is to
systematically increase her "carrying capacity", which naturally means
expanding her passage volume.  However, as always when dealing with
the female of our species, there are other factors which must be taken
into account.

"Elementary," you say.  "Why not simply give the girl numerous
opportunities each day to host `well endowed' lovers," you ask?

Consider this.  Would it be in anyone's best interest for The Youth
Training Center to turn out fully functional females, accommodating in
every way, but who were so stretched out of shape from overuse that
coupling with one of them would be like making love to a bucket of hot
mayonnaise?  We think not.  Enter into the formula, muscle tone.  To
make a suitable partner who is capable of making the long haul, so to
speak, a young lady must be taught the finer points of muscle control.

To a degree vaginal and anal muscle application comes naturally to a
girl, but the strength of her internal grip and the knowledge and
willingness to use it effectively are achieved only with patient
tutoring and practice...practice...practice.  Using a wide variety of
training regimens, including Kegel exercise as well as several other
interesting routines developed by the TYTC staff, the Guests at the
Center are taught to use their God given talents both efficiently and
productively, while maintaining muscular fitness and stamina.  

Naturally their progress must be monitored and recorded, so once again
the Portal Micrometer is used to collect the girls' personal
measurements.  Internal Grip Strength, or IGS, is measured weekly in
both passages, and the readings compared with each other as well as
with benchmark data.  Additionally, much like a pressurized cylinder
is hydrostatically tested, the Guests' muscle resilience and
elasticity, commonly referred to as muscle memory or "M&M's", is
closely monitored.  Of course, passage volume is checked on a regular
basis as well, and when combined with grip strength and muscle memory
we can decide a female's true Carrying Capacity.  

Conversely, when viewed independently, these personal measurements can
be used to track a young lady's progress or lack thereof.  Take for
example a Guest who exhibits increased passage volume with decreased
IGS readings and low M&M's.  Obviously she's spending too much time in
the sack and not enough in the gymnasium.  On the other hand, suppose
a young lady shows progress in the area of passage volume, and she has
acceptable IGS numbers from one week to the next.  However, when our
girl is examined for muscle tone she comes up with low M&M's.  What
would you prescribe for her?  If you suggested that she take regular
night partners, or perhaps that she be required to carry a Kegel
weight or two during her waking hours, then you've done your homework.
What our hypothetical young lady lacks is stamina.  She scores well on
volume, and her grip strength is good, but she will undoubtedly fall
short if you intend to take her for an extended ride.

Thus we see that accurate measurement, the routine collection of fresh
data, and meticulous record keeping of personal information on each
and every Guest who walks or is carried through the doors of The Youth
Training Center is absolutely crucial to the overall re-education
process.

Checking his day timer, Adam North noted that Miss Kournikova was
scheduled for personal measurement and CAP sizing that very afternoon.
However, as is sometimes the case, especially when a young lady is
particularly unmanageable during her Induction Interview as Miss
Kournikova had been thus far, at the request of her Handler she would
be CAP'd on the spot.  For this reason, North kept a full compliment
of CAP Devices in every available size in the supply cabinet in his
office.  

Adam North looked on as Rick Adams and Mark Haskel worked with the
stubborn nineteen year old tennis star.  "It's good to see that Rick
is still so much at home with the Guests," North thought to himself as
he admired the ease with which his second in command handled himself
around the head strong Russian.  He'd administered her dose of
Thelazine at precisely the right moment, and presently he stood by
with Anna's CAP Device, ready to install it when Mark Haskel gave him
the signal.  "Mark's a good man," North mused as he watched the
Handler employ the Standard Greeting technique with remarkable
dexterity.  Adam often wondered how a man of Mark's size and weight
could move with such exceptional swiftness and grace, but after
watching him in action on more than one occasion, North remained
impressed with the big man's speed and agility.

Anna, on the other hand, was not at all impressed with Mark.  In fact,
she was beginning to detest the big man and had already added Mark to
her mental list of people she would mention to her South Florida
"acquaintances".  No sooner had she snapped out of her brief but
hideous nightmare than the man jammed his big paw between her legs
again.  The discovery that whatever the drug was that the other man
had injected into her butt wasn't going to render her unconscious
offered little consolation to Anna, since she quickly realized that as
a consequence, she would have to endure the atrocities performed on
her person by these deranged men fully conscious.

"God damn you, you inhuman pig!" Anna shrieked at the big man in
Russian.  His hand was driving her crazy, the way he kept opening and
closing her down there with his fingers.  Each time Mark parted her
lips, Anna felt a draft of cool air, for unbeknownst to her at the
time, she was already beginning to self-lubricate thanks to the
effects of Thelazine.  

One of the most desirable side effects of the miraculous compound was
that it caused the Bartholin's and hymen glands, which are responsible
for the production of lubricating mucous needed in the vagina during
intercourse, to make the jump to light speed.  The "Thelazine Effect",
however, tended to be extremely subtle at first.  So subtle, in fact,
that a Guest rarely noticed the delicate changes to her person, both
physiological and emotional.  With the new, faster acting compound the
initial effects such as increased production of vaginal mucous, could
begin in as little as ten minutes following injection.  Then like the
original "flavor" of this superb medication, its influence gradually
gained strength over time.  However, due to the very nature of the
drug, the subtle changes it wrought in the Guests generally remained
unrecognized.  Because of this particular quality, emotional inroads
of inestimable value could be achieved in a surprisingly short period
of time.

[Another Author's Note: TYTC 4.5 contains an excellent description of
Thelazine and its remarkable effectiveness.]

"Be still, Miss Kournikova," Mark spoke in a steady voice.  She
certainly was a scrapper.  That much was certain, and if it hadn't
been for his years of experience, Mark might have lost her, for Anna
Kournikova was in excellent physical condition.  As it stood, though,
the talented Handler easily stayed with the enraged teenager.  Each
time she tried to remove herself from harm's way by twisting her hips
or by thrashing back and forth or side to side against the restraints
of the A-Frame, Mark moved with her.  It was almost as if he could
read her mind, and this coupled with his infernal politeness was
utterly infuriating to Anna, causing her to fight him that much
harder.

"Settle down, please, my dear girl.  You're going to hurt yourself, if
you're not careful," Mark said to the struggling blond.  His voice was
filled with genuine concern, whereas his right hand was filled with
Anna.  Parting his fingers, he spread her open again, then he pushed
upward against her several times, repeatedly compressing the
teenager's resilient outer lips between his fingertips and her pelvic
bones.  Watching her face closely, Mark noted the telltale flare of
her nostrils and the first glint of bewilderment in her green eyes
just before she spat on him for the third or forth time.  Miss
Kournikova was becoming aroused.

"F...fuck off, you sick bastard," Anna hissed in English this time as
a strong involuntary tremor passed through her body.

Mark returned the Russian girl's profane remark with a patronizing
smile as he pressed his fingers together, squeezing her heavy labia
between them.  A  quantity of warm, silky fluid seeped from within the
unhappy teenager and onto Marks fingers which he promptly rubbed into
her lush golden pubic curls.  Anna was ready, Mark decided at last, so
with no further ado, the big Handler stared directly into her green
eyes.  "She knows something is about to happen," Mark thought to
himself.  He could see it in her face as plain as day.

A shuddering exhale of breath escaped the pretty blond tennis star as
his thick middle finger slid effortlessly up into the cradle of her
femininity.  Mark did everything by the books, so naturally his
technique was perfect.  Following the well documented entry protocols
to the letter, Marks initial foray into Anna was both fluid and
thorough.  In one uniform motion he propelled his middle finger up
into her vagina until his other fingers pressed firmly upward against
her labia majora, such that the blond was completely compromised.
Gazing into her startled green eyes, Mark could plainly see the
beginnings of the realization that she had been taken against her will
and that there was nothing she could do about it.  Mark smiled at Anna
and was about to withdraw his finger in preparation for the remainder
of the entry protocol when suddenly he felt her contract tightly
around his invading digit.  A look of surprise and dismay came over
Anna as a hot flush of blood shot up her neck and into her cheeks like
mercury up a thermometer.  Her hands clutched at the horizontal rail
of the A-Frame and she began to cast her gaze about the room almost
desperately in an effort to avoid eye contact with the man in front of
her.  Mark pulled his finger back to the first knuckle which triggered
as second powerful vaginal contraction, followed closely by another,
then another as Anna threw her head back and gasped.  

"Well I'll be," Mark muttered.  Then in a much louder voice, for the
benefit of his colleagues, he stated with a soft chuckle, "Our little
lady's going to cum for us.  I do believe."

Anna looked quickly in Mark's direction with a pleading expression
painted upon her flushed face.  Her mind was in a total turmoil.  She
simply couldn't believe this was happening to her, but as she opened
her mouth to speak, to beg the man not to go any farther,  the Handler
chose that very moment to deliver the three to four shallow and rapid
testing thrusts required by the entry protocol.  

That was all it took to tip Anna over the edge.  Granted she generally
achieved orgasm with reasonable ease, but the stunned blond celebrity
would never have believed, given the circumstances of her predicament,
that she would become aroused sexually by this monster, let alone
reach climax.  She was mistaken, of course.  It was as though fire
leapt from the man's hand and crackled like static electricity
throughout Anna's entire being.  Her mind seemed to go blank
momentarily as she threw her head back and gave a most unladylike
gurgling groan.  Anna's broad hips pumped two or three times, and then
as Mark pushed his finger fully into her once again, the young blond
rose up onto the balls of her feet and trembled violently from head to
toe, inside and out, as an orgasm of epic proportions washed over and
through her like a hot tsunami.  

Mark kept his hand perfectly still between her trembling thighs,
allowing the young tennis star to service herself on his finger while
her orgasm ran its course.  The entire episode took several minutes
and left Anna exhausted and out of breath.  It also left her with a
deep sense of bewilderment, dismay and the unsettling realization that
her own body had betrayed her.  

For the fact of the matter was quite clear.  These horrible men had
abducted her, drugged her and for all intents and purposes, were in
the process of gang raping her.  Anna had done her utmost to resist
their wicked advances and to fight them at every turn, but in spite of
her best efforts she had actually become aroused to the point of
climax in spite of her deplorable predicament.  This realization
utterly floored Anna.  And although she possessed amazing strength of
will and depth of character, the Russian tennis celebrity felt her
resolve begin to slip.

Mark could see it in her eyes.  And as her contractions began to
subside, he slowly extracted his thick middle finger from the girl's
vagina.  "Look at me, please, Miss Kournikova," he was forced to
instruct the unhappy blond, for she was reluctant now to meet his
gaze.  Just a very few minutes ago her green eyes had been filled with
willfulness and contempt, but now as Mark began to slowly palpate her
heavy labia once again, rubbing his hand firmly back and forth between
her legs, the Handler noted a certain amount of uncertainty, even
timidity in her gaze when at last she raised her eyes to his.  It was
a good sign for this was indicative of the blossoming of self-doubt.
As the weeks and months went by, Anna Kournikova, like all the Guests
at the Center would experience a steady erosion of her pre-conceived
self-image.  In time, her self-confidence and willfulness would
gradually be sapped away, to be replaced in the end by acquiescence
and submissiveness.  Until such a time as her training was complete,
Anna would continue to resist these changes, but Mark knew, as did
everyone at TYTC, that the headstrong blond bombshell would begin to
participate more and more with each passing day.  

"We're going to have to work on these incontinent orgasms, Miss
Kournikova," Mark stated evenly as he raised his hand up to inspect
his fingers.  A slight trace of moisture glistened on his middle
finger, but nothing of any consequence yet.  "Do you always cum so
quickly, my dear?"  Mark asked as though he were asking Anna the time
of day.

"Go to hell!" Anna muttered, refusing to look at him.  Although as she
stood staring at the floor in front of her, a heated blush rose in the
blond tennis star's neck and cheeks, adding to and enhancing her
existing glow of post-orgasmic radiance.  

Mark made another mental note, later to be entered into her permanent
file.  "Handlers should exercise caution and employ strict Climax
Management protocols when working with Miss Kournikova.  She must only
be allowed to climax under carefully controlled conditions, and even
then she should be monitored closely for the signs and symptoms of
Emotional Free Radical Stimulation (EFIRS).

"Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Mark spoke employing a hint of Command
Intonation in his voice.  Still she kept her gaze stubbornly averted.
Placing three fingers beneath her chin, the powerful Handler raised
her face to his with practically no effort at all.  When Anna tried to
look away, he grasped her face in his big hand and forced her eyes
back to his.  Mark once again pressed his body against that of the
young Russian athlete, pushing her back against the cold steel bar
that crossed behind her shoulders.  Their noses almost touching, Mark
stared into Anna's green eyes, noting the undisguised loathing
therein.  "Guests shall maintain direct eye contact with their partner
or partners while being attended to," Mark stated, reciting the Sixth
Standard with a patronizing smile.

"Fuck you!" Anna hissed.  Then abruptly jerking her chin from Mark's
grasp, she stared directly at Adam North and spoke with venomous
conviction.  "Fuck you all!"

It was all the men could do to control themselves.  Ted and Curtis
were forced to look away in an effort to maintain their composure.
Rick Adams brought his hand to his mouth and looked in the
Headmaster's direction.

Adam North remained silent for a moment, and then with legendary
acumen he responded.  "Indeed you will, Miss Kournikova.  Indeed you
will."

Rick Adams, only barely maintaining control, looked from North's dead
pan expression into the eyes of the head strong young Russian.  The
office was suddenly hushed and still.  Just seconds ago, in spite of
her rather dire predicament, Miss Kournikova had managed an air of
confidence and even contempt when she addressed the Headmaster of The
Youth Training Center.  But as the silence deteriorated first into
guarded chuckles and then finally into raucous guffaws, Anna felt her
resolve start to slip away.

"Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Mark ordered, catching Anna with her
guard down.  Her eyes snapped to his before she could stop herself,
and at that exact moment the big Handler entered her again.

"Nnngghh!" Anna groaned and raised up onto the balls of her feet,
straining against the diabolical A-Frame.  Instead of the customary
fury she'd exhibited thus far, the pretty blond's face was now a mask
of shock and dismay.  

Mark's expression, on the other hand, remained utterly neutral as he
delved even deeper than before into the core of Anna's femininity with
his highly educated digit.  Inexplicably the big Handler held Anna in
his gaze as helpless as a deer in a hunter's jack light as he began a
more thorough internal examination.  

Anna was no stranger to sex.  In fact she'd used it quite effectively
on more than one occasion to influence the right people and achieve
her objectives, but always she maintained the upper hand.  Anna called
the shots, doling out her charms or withholding them as she deemed
appropriate.  But something was entirely wrong here.  Granted, she
tended to climax easily, but at the hands of a hulking rapist while
his perverted friends watched and laughed?  Something was definitely
wrong here.  This hulking rapist knew just where to touch her.  Even
now as Anna felt his repulsive finger dip and probe, the big man in
white managed to locate places inside of her that no one had ever
touched before.  Exquisite places, deeply female places which, in
spite of the repugnance she held for him in her very soul, would make
Anna's big green eyes suddenly grow wide with startled wonder.  She
despised what he was doing to her, but beneath her hatred of the man
who defiled her, was a blossoming sense of self doubt which crept
slowly but inexorably into her psyche.  Wasn't she at least partially
to blame?  "She was the one who had the orgasm, after all," she
reminded herself subconsciously.

"Get your hands off me, you depraved monster!" Anna's mind screamed,
and then in the next breath the voice of little Murzik would whisper,
"Touch me there.  Oh, please touch me there!"  And when he did, Anna's
"inner female" would cry out, seemingly with volcanic intensity in a
voice that would not be denied, oozing around her like warm mud and
obliterating cognizant thought.

Mark hooked his finger forward ever so slightly then pushed upward
firmly in the direction of her pubic bone.  He smiled knowingly when
Anna's lips parted slightly, and she inhaled a short hissing breath
through her teeth.  Even without the telltale tremors which passed
unbidden through the bewildered blond with ever increasing frequency,
the Handler was able to keep tabs on Anna's level of arousal.  Mark
had again placed his free hand onto the horizontal bar just behind
Anna's right shoulder, his face mere inches from hers.  Anna's eyes
were deep pools of smoldering emerald that flickered and flashed each
time he shifted his finger.  Mark's training allowed him to gaze into
those emerald pools and discover secrets hidden deep down.  Through
those windows to her soul the professional man witnessed the dialog
between Anna and her "inner female" - the doubts and the fears, the
fire and the passion.  And thanks to the wonder drug, Thelazine,
urging her to acknowledge those songs that her body was singing, Anna
began to gaze into that fire.

Mark monitored her facial expressions and bodily responses very
closely.  He had no intention of allowing the girl to achieve another
orgasm.  He'd allowed her previous climax to proceed partly for the
amusement of his colleagues, but primarily to introduce the arrogant,
blond teenager to the concept of self-betrayal which points the way
down the path toward submission.  There was no doubt in Mark's mind
that her injection of Thelazine had kicked in.  Less than fifteen
minutes ago, Anna Kournikova had spat in his face when he touched her,
and now he went about his internal examination of the young Russian
girl virtually unimpeded.  Additionally she'd begun to produce an
abundance of vaginal mucous, allowing him unfettered access to the
more remote reaches of her reproductive anatomy.

Mark tried two fingers which she accepted without complaint.  Her eyes
were beginning to take on that muzzy, preoccupied look indicative of
the early stages of Womb Centering.  Mark knew that he was skating on
rather thin ice, when the comely blond moaned softly and then leaned
her cheek against his forearm.  She was getting close again, and as a
result, Mark took great care to keep his hand clear of her clitoral
area as he pushed both his middle and ring fingers deeply into her
vagina and held fast.  

Mark was looking for something that should have occurred naturally by
now, and that, of course, was a vaginal contraction.  "Nothing," the
Handler muttered to himself after a full minute had passed.  

"I beg your pardon?" Rick Adams spoke up from his position directly
behind blond teenager.  He toyed with a black, torpedo shaped device
in his right hand, rolling it back and forth between his thumb and
four fingers.  Soon it would belong to Anna, but not until Mark called
for it.

"It appears that although Miss Kournikova is a renowned athlete and
keeps herself in excellent physical shape on the outside, she has what
I call a "Lazy Vagina"," Mark advised the group.  

His comment got Anna's attention, if nothing else and helped to clear
the cobwebs a little.  Lifting her head, she stared at him scornfully.
She was about to speak, but Mark cut her off with only a raised hand
and a harsh look.  

"Progress," Adam North thought to himself.

Pushing his fingers firmly up into her, the Handler looked the Russian
blond directly in the eye and said, "Squeeze my fingers, Miss
Kournikova."

"What?" Anna responded indignantly.  With each passing second her
thoughts seemed to be getting more organized.  "Screw you," she hissed
in disgust, her fiery temper returning rapidly.  Such are the effects
of Thelazine.  

Unlike an aphrodisiac which arouses or increases sexual drive, the
phenomenal compound developed in the TYTC Labs, acts more like a
traffic cop than a fire engine.  When physical stimulation of a sexual
nature occurs, Thelazine opens the freeway, allowing those impulses to
speed directly to the pleasure centers of the brain.  At the same
time, it holds back unnecessary traffic, be it emotional or physical,
in order to guarantee a clear path for the impetus that really
matters.  In short, Thelazine allows a young lady to hear those
natural signals that her body sends to her mind more clearly, with far
less interference and distraction.  When sexual stimulation is
discontinued the "traffic cop" allows other traffic back onto the
freeway, and "normal" female thought patterns resume, usually leaving
the subject in a temporary state of mild disbelief and confusion.

That is where Anna found herself when the perverted white clad monster
made his revolting request.  "What the hell, happened to me?" she
wondered and not for the last time.

Mark, of course, knew that by holding his hand perfectly still, the
Thelazine Effect would be temporarily lessened, and would quite
possibly cause the girl to become agitated again, but he needed her
undivided attention to complete his examination.  It was a simple
request, but one that most Guests in the early days of their training
consider to be both repugnant and demeaning.  The demeaning part, Mark
could understand, but repugnant?  "It's a perfectly natural bodily
function," Mark reasoned.  In any case, he had a job to do, and unless
they wanted to be here all day, the stubborn tennis star would have to
cooperate.  

"Squeeze my fingers, please, Miss Kournikova," Mark repeated, giving
her a second chance.  After all, she was Anna Kournikova.  

The Handler waited patiently with his two fingers ensconced in the
warm confines of the girl's vaginal passage.  While he waited, Mark
assessed some of her other attributes even though she would undergo
more precise tests later.  Her vaginal temperature seemed normal.
Mucous production both before and following her initial Thelazine
dosage appeared to be above average.  Passage volume, at least
vaginally seemed adequate, of course it was hard to tell with only two
fingers.  Her vaginal M&M's (Muscle Memory) proved to be acceptable.
Earlier when Mark tried stretching her a little by spreading his
fingers apart inside her birth canal, she'd regained her original
diameter in a suitably short period of time.  Mark decided that, all
things considered, Miss Kournikova was quite serviceable and would
make a suitable lover after receiving the proper training, naturally.
Furthermore, that very training would take care of her "Lazy Vagina".

Anna wasn't the first young lady Mark had encountered with this
problem, and he firmly believed that the condition was a direct result
of a lack of use.  Interestingly enough it seemed to appear
predominantly in females with more willful dispositions.  In any case,
the problem is easily solved.  Muscles that go unused become weak and
flabby.  It's as simple as that.  All a girl needs is exercise.  

Mark was losing patience with her.  Anna was about to learn that the
request of a TYTC Handler is not to be taken lightly, nor is it up for
debate.  Her lesson would begin by Mark taking her on an in depth tour
of the female reproductive anatomy and introducing her to one of the
many special points of interest that most females don't even know
exist.  Those women who do know about some of these places would
rather they didn't.  

One such spot is located at the very back of the birth canal just
below and posterior to the fornix.  It's a long reach on a good day
and can be difficult to find for someone lacking the proper training.
Additionally, this particular point is far easier to reach by
approaching the vaginal passage from the rear.  In fact, there were
only a few individuals in the employ of The Youth Training Center
today who could effectively palpate this area using a front entry, let
alone possess the strength and dexterity to utilize this pressure
point to its full potential.  

Anna was fortunate because, as she'd already discovered, Mark Haskel's
hands were quite large and his fingers very long and powerful, and as
fate would have it, it was Mark Haskel who first attempted and later
perfected the use of this particular "sweet spot".

"Squeeze my fingers, Miss Kournikova," Mark ordered.  

His tone of voice was different somehow, and it caught Anna's
attention, but still she chose to ignore his request.  Mark gave her
no warning of what was to come, and it all happened so quickly that
Anna was still in the process of dreaming up a scathing remark to fire
back at the man, when abruptly she found herself hanging by her arms
from the horizontal bar of the A-Frame, breathless and very close to
fainting.  It took about a half a minute for what had been a mind
blinding nova of pain in her lower back to subside.  Anna thought that
surely one of the ogres standing behind her had kicked her in the
spine with a steel towed work boot.  An aftershock coursed up her back
and down the backs of her thighs when she tried unsuccessfully to
regain her feet, and again she dropped and hung by her arms.  

Standing quietly before her, Mark Haskel waited patiently for Anna to
recover sufficiently to stand, albeit still attached spread-eagle to
the A-Frame.  Without a word, the Handler stepped forward and inserted
the same two fingers into Anna's vagina, causing her body to stiffen
reflexively in the expectation of further pain.  Inside, however, she
remained soft and pliable.  Mark gave Anna a moment to catch her
breath while he pushed his big fingers up into her to the hilts.

"Squeeze my fingers, Miss Kournikova," he said in an almost
conversational tone of voice.  

Anna wanted more than anything on Earth to defy the man and to spit in
his ugly face or, given the opportunity, maybe bite his ear off.
Unfortunately Anna didn't think that she would survive a second attack
like the first.  She wasn't even certain exactly what he'd done to
her, but she was reasonably certain that she didn't wish to repeat the
experience.  Steeling herself like she'd had to do so many times on
the tennis court, Anna Kournikova dug deep.  She gritted her teeth,
swallowed her pride and...

"Again, and a little harder this time please," Mark commented
matter-of-factly after Anna's first attempt.  If the truth be known it
had been a puny effort at best.

Anna reluctantly tried again.  She couldn't remember ever having been
ordered by a man to do anything even remotely as dehumanizing as this.

"Pretend you're using the bathroom, Miss Kournikova, and suddenly you
wish to stop," Mark coached, further humiliating the blond teenage
celebrity.  It's practically the same muscle group, I promise you.
One more try, and then we'll move on," Mark assured her and wiggled
his fingers a little.  

Anna couldn't believe this was happening to her.  It had to be some
kind of fiendish nightmare or something, and sooner or later she would
awaken and all of this evil perversion would be gone - all just a bad
dream.  Unfortunately, Anna was pretty darn sure she wasn't imagining
the two large fingers that were inserted into her vagina.  Anna bore
down.

"Internal Grip Strength (IGS) is well below average," Mark stated for
the record.  Glancing at Rick Adams, the big Handler then said, "I
recommend that Miss Kournikova be started on Kegel weight program
right away."  Rick nodded his approval, and at the same time the two
men exchanged an unspoken plan.  

"We're almost finished here, Miss Kournikova," Mark said as he
unexpectedly began to slowly fuck her with his two fingers.  Her
surprise registered quickly on her handsome face and in her green
eyes.  Anna opened her mouth to make some remark, but only a low moan
came out as Mark applied firm pressure with his thumb to the small
hood of skin which shrouded her clitoris.  Almost immediately as the
Handler began to swirl his thumb in tight circles, the "traffic cop"
blew his whistle, signaling rush hour.  

As Mark continued to move his fingers in and out with a slow, even
cadence, the first of many wet, snapping sounds escaped from between
Anna's thighs.  Mark heard it and smiled.  Anna heard it and groaned
as her spirits took a dive.  Rick heard it and nodded as he applied a
dollop of K-Y Jelly to the blunt end of Anna's size six CAP Device.  

Sizzling waves of pure delight leapt from the fingers of the big man
in white and onto the neurological super highway provided by the
Thelazine which by now had reached its full effectiveness.  Anna saw
the others gathered around her but no longer comprehended their
significance.  She heard sounds around her and behind her and even
snippets of conversation but nothing that was said made sense anymore.
Nothing was getting through.  Only the white fire in her belly got
into the fast lane and assaulted Anna's conscious mind.

A moment later Anna sensed a strange touch on her right hip -
someone's hand - but its significance was effectively shunted onto a
side street.  Then as though from a great distance, Anna felt a new
sensation of pressure.  It didn't hurt exactly, but it was unexpected.
Suddenly it was just there, and if Anna's mind hadn't been so tied up
with other anatomical concerns she might have wondered just exactly
where "there" was.  Then without warning, Anna's world changed.  One
moment she was all alone and in the next she received a constant
companion, one that would remain with her day and night, possibly for
the rest of her life.

Rick nodded to Mark as he stood and wiped the lubricant off his
fingers.  As usual the CAP insertion had gone without a hitch, thanks
to the newly designed Mark IV's.  With just a tiny amount of
lubricant, natural or otherwise, the space-age composite anal
appliances virtually leapt into the bodies of their recipients with
only a small amount of coaxing.  

A shudder passed through Anna as her available passage space was
quickly filled, and her anal sphincter closed around the slender neck
of the device.  At the same time Mark removed his hand from her and
allowed stunned young blond a couple of minutes to adjust around her
new companion.  He'd managed Anna's arousal with practiced ease,
keeping her right on the threshold of orgasm throughout the CAP
insertion procedure without allowing her to slip over the edge.
Mark's legendary skill and timing combined with the amazing effects of
Thelazine made the process practically painless.  The headstrong
teenager's advanced state of arousal served to distract her while her
CAP device was introduced into her rectal passage by Rick Adams.  It
would take several days for her to completely acclimate to the filling
presence in her abdomen, but she would adjust, just like every Guest
of the Center has over the years.  The CAP program was nothing short
of remarkable, providing the young Guests with a focal point, and
thereby reducing distraction.

While Anna remained bound to the A-Frame restraint device, the men in
white discussed the morning's project, congratulating themselves on
how smoothly everything had gone.  In a few minutes, Anna would be
escorted to the Guest quarters where she would begin her new life.
Curtis and Ted stepped forward in preparation for Anna's release from
her bonds, but Rick wasn't ready to let her go just yet.  

Turning to Adam North, Rick asked, "You don't by any chance have a set
of Kegel weights up here do you?"

"No, I'm afraid not," North replied.  "But if you'll stop by the
Gymnasium on the way to the dormitory, I'm sure the Coach will provide
our new Guest with everything she needs," the Headmaster added with a
wink.  

"Alright, then," Rick replied with a smile.  "Let's cut her loose,
shall we.  Mark, would you do the honors, please."

"No worries," Mark said as he stepped to the A-Frame and its comely
occupant.  Smiling down at the girl, Mark turned and asked, "Anyone
want to take a turn with Miss Kournikova, before we release her into
the general population?"  

Anna's mind staggered in disbelief and outrage that these diabolical
mad men would actually place some evil thing into her body.  For
awhile afterward she'd been wracked with horrible cramps, but they'd
quickly dissipated into what was now a dull but consuming ache that
pervaded her lower abdomen and made it very difficult for her to
concentrate on anything else.  She knew the men were talking about
her, no doubt plotting more vile deeds, but she wasn't entirely
certain what was being said.  The big man had just offered his
colleagues something, and although she wasn't sure what it was, Anna
was sure she wasn't going to care for the idea.

"Might as well get her started," Rick agreed, but unfortunately I've
got to run.  "Mark, I'll check in with you in a couple of hours, and
we'll get Miss Kournikova integrated into the schedule, OK?"  Mark
nodded.  "Ted, Curtis, why don't one of you guys take her for a spin.
You might not get the chance again for awhile, and who knows, she
might be fun," he added casually as he gave his friend Adam North a
farewell wave and crossed the room for the door.  

Ted looked at Curtis and shrugged.  "Do you mind?" he asked his
colleague.

"No problem, Teddy.  You go right ahead," Curtis replied graciously.
"I'll wait and apply for Night Partnering with her later on, after
she's had a bit more training."

Mark nodded at the two men, simultaneously dismissing Curtis and
giving Ted the go-ahead to proceed.

"You gentlemen take your time," Adam North interjected as he rose from
his seat and stepped around the desk.  "Use the office for as long as
you need," he offered.  Then, ignoring the young blond celebrity
completely, the TYTC Headmaster turned to leave saying, "Curtis, if
you have a minute.  There are some things I need to discuss with you."

The two men made their exit already engaged in discrete conversation,
leaving Mark  and Ted alone with their new charge.

Eyeing the two men in white with baleful curiosity Anna spoke up as
the two Handlers switched places.  "I don't know what you two are
planning, but I'm willing to offer you both a lot of money if you'll
let me go and help me to get away from this place."

Neither man said a word.  Anna stared nervously back over her right
shoulder as Mark stepped close behind her.  "Look," she bargained.
"You've had your fun.  If you stop this craziness now, I promise you
there'll be no repercussions.  No one ever needs to know what went on
this morning." 

Mark smiled as he placed a hand onto her shoulder.  "Be still, Miss
Kournikova and pay attention," he murmured as one would speak to a
misbehaving puppy.  

Anna was about to argue when she heard a long, slow, "zip..."  Turning
quickly, she gave a start when she discovered that the man named Ted
now stood very close in front of her.  He to was smiling at her in a
patronizing way as he extended his left arm and grasped the horizontal
frame behind Anna's right shoulder.

"What's the matter with you people?" Anna snapped.  "Are you all
retarded or something?"  Ted remained utterly silent as he leaned even
closer until their noses practically touched, and Anna felt his breath
on her lips.  The blond tennis star turned her face away in disgust
and was about to launch into another indignant tirade when suddenly
she felt something warm and distinctly hard, press against her belly.

Snapping her eyes back to Ted, she hissed venomously, "You just hang
on there big boy!"

Ted's response to her theat was to use his free hand to push his
sizeable erection down, and allow it to spring up against the
posturing blond's personal assets.

Anna looked down in alarm when she felt the heat of his manhood spring
upward against her exposed intimate flesh, but her view was blocked by
the man's belly.  Anna Kournikova tried to bolster her courage with
more threats in an attempt to ignore the cold a sense of helplessness
which began to creep into her mind, filling her with dread.  "You'll
stop right now, if you two know what's good for you!" she snarled at
the man behind her when she felt his hand on her right buttock.

"Be still, Miss Kournikova!" Ted spoke flatly as he used his right
hand between her legs to push his shaft upward and between Anna's
heavy outer lips.

"Nnnnno!" she shrieked through clenched teeth as she jerked her hips
back violently in an effort to remove herself from harm's way.  Her
green eyes flashed with seething, emerald hostility.  "I have
friends," she gasped breathlessly as the hot mass began to saw back
and forth slowly.  "Powerful friends," she snarled and started to
struggle.  

"Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Ted instructed the irate blond in
preparation for entry.  Then he shifted his left hand from the
horizontal bar of the A-Frame to the back of Anna's neck.  "Look at
me," he repeated and nodded at Mark who stood at the ready.  

"Fuck you!" Anna screamed, and with unexpected speed, she snapped at
Ted's forearm with flashing white teeth.  

She might have caused him some serious harm, but just as her teeth
made contact with his skin, Ted's colleague, Mark gave the puck shaped
butt of Anna's CAP Device which protruded slightly from between her
rounded buttocks a firm slap.  The result was almost comical, as the
advanced polymer construction of the anal appliance magnified and
conducted the full force of Mark's blow directly into Anna's abdominal
core.  From her open mouth pressed against Ted's forearm came a
visceral grunt followed by a rush of expelled breath.  At the same
time Anna's broad hips shot forward.  

"Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Ted repeated calmly as he grasped her
by her thick braid of golden hair and pulled her head back and away
from his arm, leaving a slick of saliva on his skin. Her green eyes
were round and staring and a few croaking sounds escaped her lips as
she struggled to catch her breath.

 From behind, Mark grasped the end of Anna's CAP and pushed it forward
and up, causing her pelvis to rise upward in response to the internal
pressures it generated.  Like a well rehearsed dance, Ted bent his
knees slightly and moved himself into position.  He held her head
back, forcing her to look him in the eye and nodded almost
imperceptibly to his colleague.  On cue, Mark released the pressure on
her CAP, and Anna Kournikova lowered herself helplessly onto her first
lover of the day. 

End... for now <grin> SM

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