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Message-ID: <34099asstr$1008547806@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Laura Davis" <ldavis4@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Repost: Serial Killer;Soccer Team Slaves;Someday;Stanton Academy
Date: Sun, 16 Dec 2001 19:10:07 -0500
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<1st attachment, "serialk.txt" begin>

Serial Killer by Laura Lynn Davis M/F Snuff Copyright 2001, all
rights reserved

        I went into the center and waited until one of the
coordinators was free.  I showed him my id card and asked what
was available.  "Price range?"

	I hesitated and then named a figure.  He shrugged.  "Not much in
that range."  He hummed tunelessly as his fingers danced over his
keyboard.  "Hmmm.  Just five currently."  He glanced up at me. 
"Are you going to kill her or just rape her?"

	I pretended to think it over.  "How much extra to kill her?"

	He tapped a couple of keys.  "An even thousand."  I affected a
look of shock and he shook his head.  "Look, it costs a lot to
replace these bitches.  Condemned female prisoners aren't easy to
come by."

	It was my turn to shrug.  "Okay, I'll take the whole package." 
I handed over my id and credit card and he processed them through
the system.  Then he took me down the hall to a viewing room.  He
pushed a button and a metal shutter retracted into the ceiling. 
Five women ranging in age from late teens to early thirties were
standing in a line on the other side of the one- way glass.

	They were all dressed identically in denim shirts, jeans, and
canvas slippers.  Their clothes were baggy, concealing their
figures.  There were three brunettes, one blonde, and an Aisan. 
The Asian was the youngest.  "What'd she do?"

	He tapped a couple of keys on the wall console.  "Convicted of
five counts of murder. Burned down a house to get rid of a girl
that was fucking her man."

	I stared at the girl for a moment.  "Okay, I'll take her."

	A few minutes later I was standing in the middle of a small,
bare room.  The only furniture was a metal cot with a thin
mattress.  A uniformed guard ushered the Asian girl in.  She
glanced at me and I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes.  "Are you
going to rape me and kill me or just rape me?"

	I ripped her shirt open and fondled her small firm tits. 
"Both."

	Her shoulders slumped.  "I'm innocent, you know.  I didn't do
it."

	I smiled.  "All the better."  I ripped the rest of her clothes
off and raped her while she lay staring up at the ceiling with
tears in her eyes.  She resisted just enough to make it exciting
but not enough to bring the guards to subdue her.  She knew that
would mean she'd go to the stake and be burned alive.

	I raped her again a few minutes later, this time forcing my cock
into her ass while she sobbed and begged me not to kill her.  "I
have to.  I can't help myself."  I looped my belt around her neck
and strangled her while my cock was buried deep in her rectum.  I
came when her sphincter squeezed my cock in a last spasm as her
life left her.


When she was dead I cleaned myself up and left.  As I walked away
from the center I thanked God for an enlightened government that
provided for the needs of all of its citizens, including serial
killers.

The End.


<1st attachment end>


<2nd attachment, "soccertmslv.txt" begin>

Soccer Team Slaves by Laura Lynn Davis SF F/F Bnd Slavery

This is a work of fiction set in an imaginary world. Copyright
2001


        We were on our way home from a disappointing loss in the
semifinals of the state class 1a girl's soccer tournament.  The
girls were devastated and my pep talk after the game did little
to help the situation.  As for me, as a first year coach I was
elated about how far we'd come since that first practice back in
August.  I'd hoped we'd go all the way, just to show my father
that women can coach, but I was satisfied with our overall
performance.

	My name is Charity Jane Hill but my friends call me C.J. 
Everybody calls me C.J., even my mother.  People I meet soon
learn that I don't respond to anything else except maybe Ms.
Hill, and then only reluctantly.  I began playing soccer when I
was six years old and played right through college.  I'm fairly
tall for a soccer player, 5' 8", but I was always fast.  At best,
I was an average player and when I graduated from high school
there were no scholarship offers.  So I went to a small Division
III school out in the wilds of Kansas.  I had a so-so career but
along the way I discovered I have a knack for coaching.  I was
the poster girl for the old saying about those who can do, and
those who can't teach.

	On that cold November afternoon I was twenty-four years old,
having celebrated my birthday just a week earlier.  I remember
sitting in the front seat of the bus, chatting with the driver
while most of the girls napped.  Jenny and Sal were in the back
with their heads together, plotting some kind of mischief. 
Kristen Wolfe, the best player on the team, and my unabashed
favorite, was sitting across the aisle from me, wide awake,
reading a mystery novel.  Kristen was a junior and I'd built the
team around her.  It felt good knowing she'd be back next year.

	We were heading down I-90, about twenty miles from home, when
there was bright flash and suddenly the bus was careening across
a meadow, headed for a patch of heavy brush.  The driver worked
the brakes and brought us to a stop before we plunged into the
undergrowth.  We were all stunned and had no idea what had
happened.  We tumbled out of the bus, shaken and scared.  The
highway was nowhere in sight.  There was nothing in sight but
rolling land dotted here and there with thick clumps of bushes
and small trees.  Overhead the sun was shining brightly and the
temperature was in the mid seventies.  Kristen glanced at me and
said, "Well, J.C., I don't think we're in Kansas anymore. Or
Massachusetts for that matter."

	Just then Jenny yelled, "Look.  There are some people on horses
headed this way!"

	I glanced around.  She was right.  About two dozen riders were
coming toward us at a fast trot.  The second in line was carrying
a pole with some kind of flag on it.  They looked like a troop of
 cavalry, right out of a John Wayne movie.  Except that the
cavalry troops in John Wayne movies weren't all women and didn't
carry flintlock rifles.  Nor did they speak English with a sexy
French accent.

	The troop reined in five yards away and the leader, a woman who
looked to be in her late twenties, asked, "Who's in charge here?"
 Her accent made it a little hard to understand her.

	I stepped forward and said, "I guess I am."

	She smiled and dismounted.  "Come with me."  We walked a few
yards and stopped, facing me.  She was tall, close to six feet,
and looked tough and competent.  "You're no doubt wondering where
you are.  Well, I can't explain how or why you're here, but
you've come through the veil.  Tell me, in your world did the
English or Spanish take the new world in the 17th century?"

	My world?  What the hell had happened?  I took a deep breath.
History wasn't my best subject but I explained that in my world
the French had lost North America on the Plains of Abraham.  "The
Spanish were never a big factor in North America."

	She smiled.  "Who rules in your world?"

	"Queen Anne, of course.  Why?"

	She shrugged.  "I'm just trying to place you.  We don't get a
lot of people coming through the veil but enough to know that
there are many worlds existing in close parallel to each other. 
In one world the Spanish won, in another the English.  In some
the English went on to spread their PAX across the world.  In
other worlds the American Colonies revolted and created a new
country."  She paused and smiled, "In this world the French won
and there was a revolt, but it was a women's revolt.  Women rule
in Arcadia.  And there are other differences.  Men are not
tolerated.  And slavery is legal.  And, as of this moment, you
all are my slaves.  And know this - there is no way back.  You
are here to stay."

	I stared at her in shock.  "You've got to be kidding!"

	She shook her head.  "No, I'm not kidding.  Our law is very
specific. All outsiders are slaves, property of those who capture
them.  As troop leader I'm entitled to 1/3 so that means six of
you are mine. The rest will be sold at auction and the money
divided up amongst the troop.  All of you may be sold.  I haven't
decided yet.  Now, if you want your girls treated gently you'll
cooperate."  As she spoke she put her hand on the back of my neck
and squeezed gently.  "By the way, I'm Arielle Valois, captain of
this troop.  Your name is?"

	I took a deep breath.  "C.J. Hill, I'm the coach of this soccer
team."

	She rubbed my neck gently but her grip was strong.  "Go back and
explain the situation.  Then I want all of you to remove your
clothes and line up in groups of six.  Do it quickly or I'll have
you whipped in front of your girls as an example."

	I walked back and gathered the girls around me while I explained
the situation.  There were a lot of tears as they realized they'd
never see their homes or families again.  The only one who seemed
unmoved was Kristen.  She shrugged and said, "Well, at least now
I won't have to fight my stepfather off every night."

	I glanced at her, surprised.  She'd never given any indication
of trouble at home.  She caught my look and smiled, as if to say
it was no big deal.  I decided to cooperate with Arielle if she'd
guarantee to keep Kristen and I together.  I asked the girls to
stay together while I spoke to her.  I didn't tell then what
about.  I walked back to Arielle and offered my complete
cooperation if she'd promise to keep Kristen and I together.  She
smiled and nodded.  "As long as I can.  She is a beauty and I
would have chosen her as one of mine anyway."

	I walked back to the girls and told them to undress.  I unzipped
my jacket and slipped it off.  They watched in silence as I
stripped completely.  Then they slowly followed suit.  When we
all nude I had them separate into groups of six and line up.  I
stood at the head of one group and my assistant, Carol, took
another.  I wanted Kristen with me but she moved off to take
charge of the last group.

	Arielle's troopers moved in and tied our hands behind our backs,
not tight but tight enough to make it difficult to get free. 
Then the put leather collars around our necks.  A chain was
attached to my collar and run thought rings on the other's
collars before being fastened to the collar of the last girl in
line.

	When everything was to Arielle's liking we moved off, the three
columns in parallel.  We started off at a slow trot and then
speeded up when Arielle decided we could sustain a faster pace. 
As we ran I thanked God that I was small (34b) on top.  I glanced
over at Kristen. She was running easily, her firm breasts
bouncing with each step. She didn't seem at all discomforted. 
Her skin gleamed under a light coat of perspiration.  She glanced
at me and winked.  I saw her eyes move and realized she was
looking me over.  I blushed and wished I wasn't so much the
tomboy.

	We ran for fifty minutes and then stopped for ten.  The troopers
brought canteens of water and held them while we each took a
small drink.  Arielle walked over to Kristen and said something
that I couldn't hear.  Kristen nodded and then stood there calmly
while Arielle fondled her firm, full breasts.  I felt a surge of
jealousy. Kristen was rightfully mine!  I stared at Kristen's
long legs and fumed.  Her thighs were long and firm, tapering
down to perfectly sculpted knees.  I'd fantasized about seen
Kristen nude and now, when my fantasy had come true, I couldn't
do anything about it. Another woman was fondling her beautiful
tits, stroking her perfect ass.  I turned away, grinding my teeth
in frustration.

	Arielle came over a minute later and said, "She's a beauty. 
I'll keep her and if you're a good girl I'll let you have her." 
She cupped my tits and teased my nipples erect.  "Are you going
to be a good girl, C.J.?"

	I dropped my eyes, blushing, and whispered, "Yes, ma'am."

	She pinched my nipples hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. 
"See that you are, slave.  Our laws are fair but our punishment
for breaking them can be harsh."

	We ran all that day and stopped to set up camp late in the
afternoon. Our hands were untied so we could eat but our ankles
were hobbled with cuffs and chains to keep us from straying. 
After we ate the chains were removed from our collars and each of
us was paired off for the night with a trooper.  For warmth and
security and, in some cases, sex.  I thought Arielle would take
Kristen but she didn't.  She took me.

	Arielle slept rolled in a blanket like her troopers.  We stayed
within a defined circle for security.  Apparently the French
hadn't settled their problems with their Indian population the
way our world had and there was some danger from raiders. 
Arielle's body was strong but feminine and she had a couple of
scars that made me want to ask questions.  But, as we huddled
under her blanket, she began to rub my belly.  I resisted the
first time she kissed me but she wasn't discouraged.

	Before long, despite my efforts to resist, I was thoroughly
aroused. She was surprisingly gentle when she slipped her hand
between my legs and began to masturbate me.  She brought me to
the brink of orgasm and then backed off.  I whimpered in
frustration.  It had been almost a year since I'd had sex.  She
did it again and again and again. Finally, when I was sobbing in
frustration she leaned close and whispered, "What are you?"

	I took a deep, shuddering breath and whispered, "A slave.  I'm a
slave.  Please, let me come. Please!"

	She chuckled softly.  "That's right.  You're a slave.  A nude
slut. My nude slut.  Isn't that right?"

	"Yes!  I'm a slut!  Please, let me come!"

	"Tomorrow morning, in front of your girls, you're going to come
to my on your belly and lick my feet in submission.  And then
each of them will follow.  If anyone refuses she'll be whipped. 
And so will you." And then, before I could answer, she dipped her
head and took my right nipple in her teeth.  She nipped gently. 
At the same time she ran the tip of one finger across my anus.  I
arched my back and bit my lip to stifle a scream of pleasure as I
came.  It was a long, intense, and very satisfying orgasm.  I
fell asleep with my head resting on her shoulder.

	The next morning, after we were fed, we were lined up and our
hands were tied behind us.  Then Arielle glanced at me and
nodded.  I stepped forward and stopped about eight feet from her.
 I got down on my knees and rolled awkwardly onto my side, then
onto my belly.  I crawled, pushing myself across the ground with
my feet.  Then, sobbing in shame, I licked her feet in
submission.  After she was satisfied that my humiliation was
complete she lifted me to my knees and made me watch as each of
the girls submitted to her.  Kristen refused. Arielle ordered her
to be trussed up and whipped.

	I moved close, still on my knees, and kissed Arielle's hand.
"Please," I begged.  "Let me talk to her.  Please don't whip
her."

	Arielle glanced down at me and nodded.  "Talk to her.  She has
to submit like the others.  Nothing less is acceptable."

	I got to my feet and trotted over to the tree where Kristen was
waiting to be whipped.  She was hanging by her wrists from a
strong branch, her toes barely brushing the ground.  I pleaded
with her to submit but she was stubborn and refused to even
consider it.  Finally, crying, I sank to my knees and rested my
head against her thigh. "Please, do it for me.  I love you and I
can't stand the thought of you being whipped."

	"You love me?"

	I glanced up at her and nodded.  "Yes.  I've loved you since
that first day of practice."  I kissed her thigh.  "Please. 
Submit to her for me."

	She stared down at me in silence for what seemed like an hour
but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.  Then she
nodded.  "Okay. For you."

	Arielle accepted the news with a smile.  She had me whipped
while Kristen was licking her feet in submission.  They hung me
by my wrists and whipped me with a braided leather whip that left
me sobbing after just ten hard stroke across my back and
buttocks.

	We ran all morning, breaking at noon for a hasty meal.  We
arrived at Arielle's village late in the afternoon.  It reminded
me of the pictures I'd seen of colonial villages in our world -
log cabins and a log palisade for defense.  Once we arrived,
things moved quickly. Kristen and I were separated from the
group.

	Then Arielle choses four more girls and surprises me with her
choices.  All of the girls are fit and reasonably attractive,
most teenaged athletes are, but Arielle doesn't choose based on
looks. Except for Kristen, who is arguably the most beautiful
girl any of us have ever seen, she chooses girls who I know have
strong personalities.  She chooses Jenny and Sal, the pranksters.
 Both are slim and strong, Jenny is a redhead and Sal has brown
hair, brown eyes, and olive skin.  She also chose Val, a slim
blonde freshman and Kate, a senior who walks with a slight limp
but is still one of the fastest girls on the team.

	The rest of the team is led off to the slave pens in the center
of the stockade.  Messages will be sent and in a week they'll
mount the block to be sold at auction.  We follow Arielle out
through the gate down a dusty path to her cabin.  It's situated
near a stream, on a slight rise that allows a good view of the
surrounding country.  She removes our cuffs after warning us that
attempting to escape is punishable by death.  "Not an easy death
at the end of a rope. Escaped slaves are crucified when
captured."  She glanced around. "You'll notice I said when, not
if.  In the past fifty years only one slave has gotten away.  She
wound up on a spit.  Some of the tribes north of here see nothing
wrong with roasting their enemies and eating them."  She paused
and smiled, a chilling smile that made me shiver. "She was alive
when they put her on the fire."

	I didn't know whether to believe her or not.  She sounded
sincere but she may have just been trying to scare us.  She
succeeded.  She paired us off, Kristen and me, Sal and Jenny, Val
and Kate.  "Never go anywhere alone.  Stay with your partner. 
Take care of each other." She assigned duties to each pair. 
Kristen and I were assigned to cook and clean and manage her
personal life.   Sal and Jenny got assigned to care for her
horses and do the outside chores.  Little Val and Kate got
assigned to care for her weapons and other personal gear.  And
one pair would share her bed each night.  "Practice your skills
on each other because I'm demanding in bed."

	She gave us towels and soap, a pot of what looked like skin
lotion, and a pair of scissors and told us to cut our hair, bathe
in the stream, and then use the lotion on our bodies.  She told
them she didn't want anyone's hair longer than mine was at that
moment.  "The lotion will remove your hair permanently so be
careful with it.  Use it only on your legs and pubic mound.  It's
mild and only stings a little."

	We trooped off and Kristen and I kept watch while the other four
cut their hair and bathed.  When our turn came Kristen shed a few
tears as I cut her long, blonde hair so that it was no longer
than 2" anywhere. It was a hack job but I did the best I could. 
We chatted while we bathed and I learned that Kristen was a
virgin in every sense of the word.  We spread the lotion on each
other's legs and pubic mound and waited for five minutes before
rinsing it off.  It was weirdly sexy to be bare down there again.
 We dried off and headed back to the cabin.

	Arielle spent the day instructing us in our duties.  Kristen and
I needed little instruction so she spend most of her time with
the others.  This went on for an entire week.  She kept us nude,
her preference, and nobody in the community seemed to find it
strange. There were no men to leer at us.  I asked about our bus
driver and Arielle said he'd been deported.  When I asked how
they kept the population up she just smiled and said, "We have
our ways.  We buy some women from the Spanish lands in the south,
capture some from the Indians, and some of us travel from time to
time."

	That first night I was surprised by Arielle's sensitivity. She
took me to her bed and left the five girls in the main room with
their blankets, huddled together like puppies.  When I said
something she smiled, "They're all virgins.  Let them learn on
each other.  I'll teach you to please me."

	And she did.  Despite being in love with Kristen, I had never
been with another woman before coming through the veil.  Well,
there was one incident with another soccer player during my
junior year in college but one encounter in the showers doesn't
really count.  I didn't do anything but lean against the tile
with my legs spread while she went down on me.  It was enjoyable
but it never happened again. But Arielle taught me to satisfy her
with my fingers and tongue and, surprisingly, a dildo fashioned
out of some completely unknown material.  It was soft but firm
and warmed quickly when held or inserted.  It had a leather
harness that allowed it to be strapped on.

	A week after our arrival we went into town and watched the rest
of the team members go on the block.  They all sold for good
money and Arielle's troopers were happy.  All but one of them
were sold to women from other towns and villages.  That same
afternoon Arielle took us to the blacksmith shop to be branded. 
It was a small brand, a stylized 'A" on the back of our left
hands, but it hurt and we all cried.

	Our training continued.  I occupied Arielle's bed each night
while the girl's experimented with each other.  Then, one night,
Arielle brought them up to the loft, one-by-one, starting with
Kristen and took their virginity with the strap-on.  She put me
on my knees beside the bed and told me not to talk or interfere,
no matter what happened. Kristen stared into my eyes while
Arielle fucked her.  Then she joined me and we watched Kate lose
her virginity.  Each girl took her place by the bed after being
fucked.  Sal was last.  She was the only one who didn't cry when
Arielle fucked her.

	The sheets were a mess when it was over and all of the girls had
blood on their thighs.  There was a pot of hot water on the
stove. Arielle and I took them down to the kitchen and washed
them with soft cloths and scented soap imported from France.  The
sheets were thrown away.  Kristen went back to the loft and I
spent the night with the girls.  I woke up from a very erotic
dream around 4:00 a.m. and found Kate going down on me.  I moaned
with pleasure as she brought me to orgasm with her clever tongue.
 Sal and Jenny were holding my ankles, keeping me spread.  Sal
and Kate switched places and it started again. All five of them
took a turn bringing me to orgasm.  It was incredible!

	Arielle was a strict disciplinarian and punished us for every
transgression but she wasn't cruel.  There were no S/m games as
was common in our own world.  We were valuable property and she
took care of us.  She told us that after three years of slavery
we could apply to join the army where another two years of
service would lead to citizenship.  She made sure we had the best
medical care possible.  In winter she dressed us warmly.  The
rest of the year we stayed nude. She used us sexually but she
never 'loaned' us to anyone.  We didn't love her but we respected
her and were thankful we'd fallen into her hands instead of
someone who might have used us more harshly.

	In time it became obvious that little Kate adored her and,
surprisingly, Arielle seemed to feel the same way about Kate. 
Kristen paired off with Val, another surprise, and one that
devastated me. And, of course, Jenny and Sal were a couple.  I
was the odd woman out. Six months passed and we had all settled
in.  Life wasn't easy but we coped.  Most of us were happy. 
Spring came and Arielle was out with the troop for days at a
time.  She left her young cousin in charge while she was gone. 
Mirelle was a cute tomboy with a sunny disposition who was always
smiling but she wasn't a pushover even though she was only
fourteen.  A couple of us found that out  when she warmed our
butts for various minor infractions.

	Arielle returned from a long patrol with a dozen captives,
survivors from a Danish ship that had gone down off the coast. 
Despite the topographical differences we were in the same
approximate location as Massachusetts in our own world and less
than thirty miles from the coast.  Arielle dismounted and Kate
ran to kiss her.  After the kiss Arielle turned to me with a
smile.  "I know you've been lonely so look this lot over and pick
one you like.  Most of them speak French and a few speak
English."

	By then we all were fairly fluent in French, some more than
others, me less than most.  I walked down the line, taking my
time to examine each captive.  The one who caught my eye was a
tall, slender redhead with hazel eyes.  She had a pale, perfect
complexion and a slender, beautiful body.  Her tits were small
and firm, tipped with little pink nipples, and she had long nice
legs.  She spoke neither English nor French.  One of the other
captives told me that the redhead's name was Petra and that she
was German, not Danish.  I was surprised when Jenny came forward
and spoke to Petra in perfect German.

	Petra's face lit up and they chattered back and forth for
several minutes.  Finally, Jenny turned to me and said, "Her name
is Petra Jaeger and she's eighteen years old.  She was a
university student in Stuttgart.  She was coming out here to join
her father.  He's the German ambassador to New Spain."

	I touched Petra's arm and said, "Tell her she's mine now."

	But before Jenny could open her mouth Arielle intervened.  "No,
don't say a word.  We'll have to give her back."  She held up her
hand to silence my instinctive protest.  "We don't want any
trouble with Germany.  Besides, they'll give us a lot in trade
for her, things we need but can't make ourselves."

	Arielle untied Petra's wrists and led her away.  She glanced
back over her shoulder and said, "Amalie, show her the twins."

	Amalie, second in command, motioned for me to follow her. 
"There was a pair of twins among the captives.  When we neared
town Arielle decided to separate them from the rest.  We agreed
to give them to her and she gave up her claim on any of the
others.  They're in the barn."


	As we neared the barn, Amalie veered off to one side.  When I
asked where she was going she smiled.  "Before I show you the
twins I want something."

	"What?"

	She grinned. "You."  She took my hand and led me into the tack
room that was affixed to the side of the barn.  We made love on
an old sofa and it was very enjoyable.  Amalie wasn't a pretty
woman but she was strong and healthy and she played me like a
fine instrument and I had a fine orgasm.  She had two so she
considered our time well-spent.

	The twins turned out to be identical blondes about fourteen
years old.  They were slender and stunningly beautiful.   Their
faces were dominated by huge green eyes.  They were fit and
tanned and clung to each other fearfully as we looked them over.
They had slim, coltish legs and small firm butts.  They were
perfect and absolutely adorable.   Even their knees were pretty.

	 I glanced at Amalie.  "My, God!  They're worth a fortune!  Is
she going to sell them?"

	Amalie shrugged.  "I thought so but now that she has the
ambassador's daughter....."

	The girls were looking back and forth, clearly following our
conversation, so I knew they spoke French.  I stepped close and
asked, "What are your names?"

	The one on the left glanced at her sister.  The other girl
straightened up with a defiant scowl  and said, "I am Ingrid
Larsen and this is my sister Astrid."  Her defiant look crumbled
and she whispered, "What's going to become of us?"

	I held my arms out.  "Nothing bad.  You're mine now.  I'll
protect you.  How old are you?"

	They stared at me for a moment and then flung themselves into my
arms. "We've just turned fourteen.  Will you really protect us? 
How can you?  You're a slave."

	I hugged them and whispered, "Yes, I'm a slave but you're mine
now and I will protect you."  I took them by the hand and led
them out of the barn.  We walked back to the house and I took
them inside. Arielle was sitting at the table with Petra, who was
now fully clothed.  Petra gave me a haughty look but I ignored
her.  "Arielle, you've got to return these girls to their
parents."

	She shook her head.  "I can't.  Their parents are dead.  They
have no family back home, no place to go."

	That's what I'd suspected but I had to confirm it.  "I want them
both."

	Arielle smiled.  "Aren't we getting a little pushy?  Do you need
a touch of the cane to remind you that you're a slave?"

	I stamped my foot, not a very impressive gesture when you're
naked. "If it wasn't for me you wouldn't have your redheaded
prize to sell back to the Germans.  I want these girls."

	I was surprised when Arielle nodded.  "They're yours.  You're
responsible for them."  She paused and smiled.  "Come to me when
the moon rises.  Bring a cane and we'll discuss your manners."

	I shivered.  "Yes, mistress."  Then I turned and led the girls
back to the tack room, the only place where we'd have any
privacy.

	As we were leaving I heard Petra laugh.  "I want to watch and
enjoy her screams."

	Back at the tack room, I sat on the sofa with the girls on
either side of me and explained the situation to them.  I didn't
have to explain much because they knew more about the political
situation then I did.  When I was done they sighed and cuddled up
to me, their heads resting on my shoulders.  Ingrid was on my
right.  She said, "As long as you take care of us we'll make the
best of it."

	I got towels and soap and a pot of depilatory cream and took
them down to the stream.  I didn't cut their long, blonde hair. 
I brought Kristen and Kate along to keep watch while I supervised
the twin's bath.  They didn't have much hair on their bodies but
the cream insured that there wouldn't ever be any.  Afterward, I
took them back to the house and showed them off to Arielle.  They
followed me around like puppies while I did my chores.

	That night, at moonrise, I brought a cane and sank to my knees
in front of Arielle.  I offered the cane on my palms and she took
it.  I nodded, "Yes, mistress.  I was pushy, totally out of
line."

	She smiled, "Good.  Take the cane and the twins down to the barn
and have them whip you.  Ten each.  And then I want all of you
back here so I can inspect your welts.  If they're not what I
expect you'll all be whipped by me."

	I took the girls back to the barn and explained what Arielle
wanted. "So lay it on hard or I'll get twenty more and you'll
each get twenty too.  I don't want you marked so do as I say."

	They tied me to a post and whipped me.  Ingrid first and then
Astrid. They were stronger than they looked and they laid it on
hard.  I was sobbing by the fourth stroke, screaming by the
seventh, and begging for mercy by the tenth.  I expected none. 
Begging and screaming was an emotional release.  After it was
over the girls walked me back to the house.  Arielle examined the
welts on my ass and pronounced herself satisfied.

	That night, despite my protests, Arielle deflowered the twins. 
She did it to remind us who owned whom.   She silenced my
protests with one question.  "Do you want to kiss the cane again
tonight?"

	The twins cried when she fucked them.  Cried again when I took
them to be branded.  But they were a delight.  They had no
hesitation when it came to having sex with me.  They knew what
they were doing and it was obvious that they'd been doing each
other for some time.  They're sexually insatiable and I've had to
tan their butts at times to keep them from pestering me.  But I'm
not complaining.  Not at all.

	A week ago we were all assembled in the main room and told to
dress up the next morning because we'd be attending an execution.
 One of the troop had been caught dealing with an agent of New
Spain.  She'd been convicted in a hastily convened court-martial
and was going to be hanged at dawn.  "You have to wear clothes
because the only person naked tomorrow will be the one who's to
be hanged."

	The next morning we were lined up facing the gallows when they
brought out the condemned prisoner.  I gasped in shock when I saw
it was Amalie.  They stopped at the foot of the gallows and
stripped her naked.  Then they bound her wrists behind her back
and passed another length of rope around her arms, above her
elbows.  I heard her grunt in pain when the pulled the rope tight
so that her elbows were touching.  She mounted the steps bravely
and stared straight ahead while the noose was placed around her
neck and adjusted carefully.  I didn't realize it was adjusted to
make sure that her neck didn't break.  It was my first hanging.

	Arielle read the death sentence and asked Amalie if she had any
last words.  Amalie shrugged and said, "No, go ahead and kill
me."

	Arielle nodded and the trap sprung open.  Amalie dropped through
and then I realized why they'd fussed so much with the knot. 
Amalie hung there, twisting and kicking as she slowly strangled
to death.  It took nearly ten minutes and I was sobbing the
entire time.  So were the rest of the slaves and most of the
troop.

	When it was over Arielle marched us back to the house and made
us strip in the yard.  Then she beat us, every one of us, working
out her anger and pain on our butts.  When she was too tired to
continue she went inside, leaving us on our knees in the yard. 
We stayed there all night.  In the morning she came out and
apologized.  Then she marched us down to the slave pen and told
the factor to sell us for what she could get and give the
proceeds to Amalie's lover.

	We go on the block tomorrow and none of us knows what will
become of us.  The twins will bring a high price and I'll
probably never see them again.  When we were being fed the factor
told us that Arielle had resigned her commission and had left the
village.  But, a while ago she was proved wrong.  Arielle turned
up at the gate.  She was naked and demanded to be sold with the
rest of us.  Right now, she's over in the far corner of the pen,
on her knees, servicing the guards with her tongue.


The End.


<2nd attachment end>


<3rd attachment, "someday.txt" begin>

Someday by Laura Lynn Davis. F/F Dark Slavery Murder

This is a work of fiction copyright 2001.

	I had just left the Israeli embassy in Rome when I felt a sting
on my arm.  I took two more steps and then everything went black.
 When I regained consciousness I was laying on the floor of a
small cement cell.  I was naked and the cell was cold.  I sat up
and hugged my knees to my chest while I tried to figure out who
might have grabbed me.  As a trained agent it shouldn't have
bothered me to be nude but it did.  Every woman feels vulnerable
when she's nude.

	I discounted the English, French, Germans, and Americans.  The
Russians had no motive.  It wasn't a training exercise so it
wasn't Mossad.  It had to be one of the Palestinian terrorist
groups, but which one?  I was still trying to decide when the
door to my cell opened and I was dragged out by a couple of
guards wearing tan uniforms, their faces covered with masks.

	The dragged me down a short hallway and into another, larger
cell. There was a sturdy wooden chair bolted to the floor in the
center of the room.  A thick six-inch phallus stuck up from the
center of the chair.  They pushed me toward it and told me to sit
down.  "Make sure that thing's up your backside or we'll put you
on it and we'll be none to gentle."

	Their voices told me that the guards were English.  Or Americans
pretending to be English.  Or.... I could have speculated for
hours. I walked over to the chair and slowly eased myself down. 
There was a jar of Vaseline on the floor by the chair.  I picked
it up and greased the phallus.  The guards watched in silence.  I
eased myself down onto the chair, moaning softly as I pushed
myself down on the phallus. When I was seated a guard circled
around and strapped my ankles to the legs of the chair.  Then he
strapped my wrists to the arms of the chair.  Finally. he slipped
a strap around my chest and under my arms, fastening it behind
the chair.  When they were satisfied that I was secure they left
and I heard the lock snap closed.

	I sat there for several hours, trying not to move.  The phallus
filled my rectum, or at least felt as if it did, and the
slightest movement reminded me that it was there.  Not that I
needed reminding. After a while the room began to cool off.  It
cooled rapidly and my nipples hardened into sharp points.  I
shivered, wondering if they were planning to freeze me to death.
The roomed warmed again and I began to perspire.  Soon I was
drenched with sweat.  It ran into my eyes and I moaned, unable to
wipe it away.  My eyes burned.

	The door opened and a woman came in.  She was about my age, 28,
and looked a lot like me - curly black hair, brown eyes, smooth
olive skin, and a slender, wiry build.  One difference was her
beauty.  I'm attractive in a boyish way but this woman was
drop-dead gorgeous.  The other difference wasn't obvious to the
eye - she was Palestinian and I'm Jewish.

	She came over and crouched in front of me while she tested the
straps.  Then she put her hand on my knee and said, "I'd prefer
to do this with drugs but I've been told to do it this way.  I'm
sorry.  You can scream as loud as you like, nobody will hear
you."

	She dragged a stool out of the corner and sat down on it and
began to torture me.  She took a little zippered case out of her
jacket pocket and opened it up.  It contained various small metal
instruments.  She took out one, a slender needle with a plastic
handle.  She probed under the nail on the middle finger of my
left hand.  I arched my back and screamed in agony as she drove
the needle up under my nail.  I refused to answer her questions.

	The torture continued.  She pulled my fingernails one by one.  I
screamed and begged for mercy but I refused to answer her
questions. She pulled my toenails.  I screamed and screamed and
screamed until my throat was raw and my screams were almost
inaudible.

	She used hot needles on my nipples and my clit.  I fainted a
dozen times and she revived me each time.  Finally, near dawn, I
broke and told her what she wanted to know.  I was drenched with
sweat, my hair plastered to my forehead.  She brushed it back and
kissed me on the lips.  I stared at her in horror and whispered,
"How could you do this to me?"

	She sat back and stared at me in silence for a long time.  Then,
without a word she slipped her jacket off and then removed her
shirt and bra.  Her pretty breasts were covered with circular
scars. Cigarette burns.  "Your people did this to me when I was
thirteen. They thought I knew the location of an arms cache. 
They burned me and raped me and left me by the side of the road
when it became obvious to them that I knew nothing."

	She put her bra and shirt back on and then sat back down.  "Do
you want to live?"

	I took a deep, shuddering breath.  "It doesn't matter what I
want. My own people will kill me when they've learned I betrayed
them."

	She nodded.  "True."  She got up and pulled a long leather cord
out of her pocket and walked around behind me.  I bent my head
forward and she looped the cord around my neck.  I stared down
the floor while she tightened the cord.  A moment or two passed
before my breath was cut off.  My vision began to dark and then I
was falling......

------------------

	I woke up screaming and found myself safe in my own bed.  Aliya
sat up, rubbing her eyes, and turned her light on.  "Same
nightmare, Sarah?"

	I nodded.  "Yes.  Exactly the same."  The covers fell away and I
stared at Aliya's pretty breast covered with small circular
scars.

	She patted my shoulder.  "Well, as long as you're
awake............." She threw the covers aside and moved down to
the foot of the bed, turned, and stretched out between her
slender legs.  She sighed with pleasure as my tongue found her
clit.

	Later, after she'd come three times, she sat on the side of the
bed with me on my knees in front of her.  I bent and kissed her
feet, left first, then right.  "Please," I asked.  "Please kill
me today."

	She shook her head.  "No, not today.  You've more pleasure to
give, more pain to absorb."

	I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.  "When?  You promised to
kill me!"  I felt like a child who's been denied promised trip to
the zoo.

	She caressed my cheek.  "Not long.  But maybe I'll take another
finger today."

	I glanced at my left hand.  My little finger and my ring finger
were gone.  Today she'd take my index finger.  Aliya was very
methodical. We'd met at a Washington party.  I was on the staff
of the Israeli embassy and had just celebrated my twenty-eighth
birthday.  Aliya was a Palestinian, just twenty-three, a grad
student at Georgetown.

	There was an immediate spark and we arranged to meet for coffee
the following afternoon.  I had to be careful because being gay
was bad enough but to be seen with a Palestinian would put a
definite end to my career and maybe my life.  If either was
discovered the least I could expect would be instant termination
of my employment.

	We met at a coffee shop far from the usual haunts of Washington
elite and spent an enjoyable hour together.  Two nights later we
met at a suburban theater and went to the movies.  The following
weekend we drove to Virginia and spent the weekend in a nice
anonymous motel. When we got to our room Aliya suggested a long
hot shower together. As we undressed I noticed the scars on her
breasts.  When I asked about them she sat down on the bed and
drew me down beside her.  She told me how she'd been raped and
tortured by four Israeli soldiers while a fifth, a mere boy, had
stood by and watched.  "He could have helped me.  I begged him to
help me."

	I was crying by then.  I shook my head and whispered; "I didn't
understand a word of Arabic then."

	She stared at me with a puzzled look.  "What do you mean?"

	I took a deep breath.  "It wasn't a boy, it was me.  I was just
eighteen, a raw recruit just out of training.  I'd only been in
the army for three months.  One of the soldiers who raped you was
my older brother.  He was killed a year later when the bus he was
riding was raked by machine gun fire.  I watched them rape you
and torture you and I wanted to stop them but I couldn't move.  I
was too scared."

	We got dressed and drove back to Washington.  I resigned from my
job on Monday and Aliya and I disappeared into the suburbs.  She
got a job as a waitress and we moved into a tiny studio apartment
just outside of Baltimore.  She keeps me chained to a radiator by
my ankle during the day.  Not that I'd try to get away.  At night
we run together because she wants to keep me healthy for as long
as possible.  We work out with free weights several nights a
week.

	At the end of our first week in the apartment she cut my little
finger off with a pocket knife.  I was bound and gagged to keep
me from screaming.  Every night I serve her sexually.  It amuses
her to use me that way.  A month later she took my ring finger
off.  After I recovered I asked her to kill me.  She promised she
would.  Someday.

	Each night, after I've satisfied her, I get down on my knees and
ask her to kill me.  The answer is always the same - someday.

	The nightmares began shortly after she cut my ring finger off. 
I often wonder if I'll go insane before she grants me the peace
of death.

The end.


<3rd attachment end>


<4th attachment, "stantonacad.txt" begin>

Stanton Academy by Laura Lynn Davis  F/F Bnd Copyright 2001, all
rights reserved


	I arrived at college without a clue as to what I wanted to do
with my life.   It drove my father nuts.  He and my mother and my
two older brothers were all very focused, like they were born
knowing just what they were going to do.  My father certainly
didn't understand me but, because I was a girl, he expected that
my mother would.  She didn't understand me either, which wasn't
surprising because I didn't understand me.  She used to look at
me and say, "Rita . . ." Then she'd just shake her head and say,
"Never mind."

	I was a good student but not outstanding in any way.  The same
with sports, I was pretty good but not good enough for the
college team.  I played club soccer and basketball and had fun
because there was no pressure.  As for looks, again I was in the
middle of the pack, pretty but not outstanding in any way.  I
wore my black hair short and I was boyishly pretty.  I had a nice
figure and slim, pretty legs.

	I majored in history because I couldn't think of anything else.
I briefly considered English but I'd heard too many stories about
English majors who wound up waiting tables.  History probably
wasn't a great choice from a career prospective but at least it
wasn't English.  By the time my senior year rolled around I still
hadn't decided what I was going to do.  I briefly considered grad
school but my father informed me that the money tap had been
turned off.  I was on my own after graduation.  I wanted to
travel and see the world and I wanted to have fun.  I wanted sex.
 Lots of good, hard sex.

	I'd given up my virginity at the age of fifteen and sex had been
an important part of my life since then.  I liked it often and
after I got to college I learned to like it hard.  It began in my
freshman year.  I went to a party and met this guy that really
turned me on.   He was a junior and lived in an off-campus
apartment.  We left the party and went back to his place.  I was
leaning over the sofa and he was fucking me doggy-style when his
roommate's came in.   When Craig finished with me his roommates
were ready and waiting.

	Craig barely got out of the way before one of his roommates slid
his cock into my wet, dripping cunt.  The other guy walked around
the sofa, and shoved his cock into my mouth.  I didn't suck his
cock, he fucked me in my mouth, warning me not to let my teeth
touch his cock.  "If you do, I'll slap the shit out of you!"  I
was very careful and when he came in my mouth I swallowed every
drop.  I stayed all night and each of them fucked me at least
once more.  The only time I refused anything was when one of them
wanted to do me in my ass.   Later, back in my dorm, taking a
shower, I admitted to myself that I was a slut.  I was discreet
because I didn't want to be know as the campus slut and I got
through to graduation with my reputation intact.

	In my senior year I attended the job fairs held on campus and
had a couple of interviews but nothing looked promising.  I
wanted travel and adventure and hot, hard sex.  Not many jobs
offer all of that.  Then, as I was leaving an interview, someone
pushed a flyer into my hand.  I almost threw it away but I held
onto it and when I got outside I stopped to read it.  It had
'Stanton Academy For Young Ladies' across the top in bold letters
and I nearly threw it away right then but I read on.  Stanton
Academy, located in the U.K., offered to train young women in the
erotic arts. Wow.  I read on.  Basically, they offered training
for young women who wanted to become high- class whores or who
wanted to snag a rich husband.  They didn't seem to distinguish
between the two.  They had a website where you could apply.  I
folded the flyer and tucked it into my pocket.

	One thing led to another and on the 13th of July I flew to
London where I was met by a woman named Joan, an attractive
blonde in her early thirties.  I was wearing a sundress and
sandals.  The sundress was short, purposely chosen to show off my
legs which, after all, are my best feature.  My tits are small,
but nice, but I can't go around topless.  Joan insisted that we
have a cup of tea at the airport before we began the long drive
up to the school.   I didn't realize that the purpose of the tea
was to slip me a sedative that would put me to sleep to keep me
from knowing the location of the school.

	Joan was driving a fairly new Jaguar.  My bag went into the
trunk, or boot as she called it, and we got in.  I was starting
to feel sleepy by then and I attributed it to fatigue from the
long flight.  Joan reminded me to fasten my seatbelt but made no
move to start the car.  Instead, she reached over and put her
hand on my thigh.  I blinked sleepily as she stroked my thigh,
pushing my dress as high as she could.  It was a pleasant feeling
but I was a little nervous because I'd never made it with another
woman.  I pushed her hand away but she shook her head and said,
"Don't do that, Rita.  Be a good girl or I'll have to spank you."
 She began stroking my thigh again and I closed my eyes, too
tired to protest again.  A moment later I felt her tug on my
panties.  "Lift up for a moment."  I shook my head, eyes still
closed, but she pinched me and I lifted my bottom off the seat
for a moment.  She eased my panties down and slipped them off. 
She ran the tips of her fingers across my pubic mound and then,
apparently satisfied for the moment, she started the car.

	I must have slept for a couple of hours.  When I woke we were
well out of London and into the country.  Everything was green
fields, narrow winding roads, and quaint villages.  Joan saw that
I was awake and smiled.  "Have a nice nap?"

	I nodded, rubbing my eyes.  "Yes, very nice.  Where are we?"

	She grinned.  "Out in the country.  We're about 10 minutes from
Stanton but we're going to stop for couple of minutes."  A moment
later she turned off onto a narrow dirt track and drove a few
hundred yards, stopping after we'd rounded a curve and were out
of sight of the road.  She turned the engine off and released her
seat belt.  "We need a final test before I take you to Stanton. 
If you pass we'll go on.  If you fail you'll go home on the next
flight."

	"What kind of test?"

	She smiled.  "Take off your dress and sandals."

	I hesitated for a moment and then I kicked my sandals off while
releasing my seat belt.  I leaned forward and reached back to
unzip my dress.  I stopped and glanced at her.  She nodded
encouragingly and said, "At Stanton you'll be taught to satisfy
women as well as men so don't be shy about stripping in front of
me."

	I shrugged and slipped my dress off.  She reached over and
stroked my thigh for a moment.  "Very nice.  You have a very nice
body, Rita.  Please get out of the car."  She was opening her
door as she spoke so I knew she wasn't going to abandon me.  I
opened my door and got out.

	Joan came around to the passenger side and slipped her arms
around me.  She rubbed my back with both hands and then ran them
down my back and cupped my buttocks.  At the same time, she
pressed her lips against mine and I felt her tongue probing,
seeking entrance.  I opened my mouth and her tongue darted in. 
At the same time, I allowed her to pull my body against hers.

	The kiss lasted for a full minute at least and left me
thoroughly aroused.  Then Joan released me and stepped back.  She
pointed to a nearby tree and said, "Go wait under that tree. I'll
be with you in a moment."  I turned and trotted away.  The sun
was warm on my nude body and my breasts bounced gently as I ran.
I was ready for sex but what I got was a whipping.

	Joan opened the trunk of the car and rummaged around inside for
a few moments. When she came toward me she was carrying a leather
strap, a set of leather cuffs, and a length of rope.  I was
scared but I just stood there and allowed her to fit the cuffs
around my wrists and fasten them together, in front of me, with a
spring clip.

	"I'm going to give you a good spanking with this strap.  One
reason is to show you what discipline will be like at Stanton. 
Another is to see how you take pain.  If you prefer not to submit
then I'll release you and drive you back to London.  What do you
say?"

	I stood there and thought about it.  I thought about the sex,
the travel, the rich men I'd meet.  Stanton would manage me and
take 20% of my earnings for 10 years.  If I married well my
husband would have to pay Stanton a specified amount.  Joan had
told that no man had ever balked at the requirement.  "No man
who's had a Stanton woman will settle for less in the future.
Many of our graduates are quite rich.  And very grateful."

	Finally, after a minute or two, I shrugged and said, "Go ahead
and spank me."  Joan fastened one end of the rope through a ring
on each cuff and tied it off.  She threw the other end of the
rope over a convenient limb and pulled on it until my hands were
up over my head.  She didn't pull too hard before tying the rope
off around the trunk of the tree but she got me up on my toes.

	I have a high threshold for pain. I discovered that when I broke
my nose playing basketball and later when I broke my arm during a
soccer game.  I grunted softly when Joan brought the strap down
across my buttocks but otherwise I didn't react.  She'd given me
six or seven strokes without hearing more that a grunt so she
really began to lay it on hard.  The grunts changed to whimpers
of pain.  My butt felt like it was on fire and I began to cry. 
She swung the strap harder, catching me across the tops of my
thighs, where the skin is soft and tender.  I screamed for the
first time on the twentieth stroke.  She stopped for a moment and
stuffed my wadded-up panties into my mouth to gag me.  She
continued the whipping as I screamed into the gag.   She stopped
after thirty.  I was sobbing, and tears were streaming down my
cheeks.

	I was drenched with perspiration.  Joan stepped up beside me and
rubbed my belly.  "Do you want me to stop?"

	I rolled my eyes and said, "Yes!"  My reply was muffled by the
gag but I was nodding vigorously.

	She smiled.  "Do you think you can take three more?  One across
your tits, one across your belly, and on across the front of your
thighs?"

	I wanted to shake my head and say no but I closed my eyes and
nodded.  The first stroke was across my thighs and while it hurt
it wasn't too bad.  The next one caught me across my tits. I was
expecting it across my belly and she caught me by surprise.  I
arched my back and screamed as the pain shot through my tits. 
The final stroke across my belly made me scream but it was
nothing like the one I'd taken across my tits.

	I stood there sobbing while she stroked my belly, buttocks, and
thighs and fondle my tits. Despite the pain I was soon quite
aroused.  "Do you want to come?"  I nodded eagerly, tears still
running down my cheeks.  Joan slipped her hand between my legs
and masturbated me to orgasm.  It was quite intense and
thoroughly enjoyable.

	She untied the rope after my orgasm but left the cuffs on and
told me to leave the panties in my mouth.  She walked me back to
the car and when I was seated she fastened the seat belt. She
threw the whip and the rope in the boot and slammed it shut. 
When she got into the car she had a collar and leash she'd taken
out of the boot.  She put the collar around my neck and adjusted
it so that it was snug.  Then she snapped the leash onto the
collar and dropped the trailing end into my lap.  I rode the rest
of the way to Stanton nude, collared, and cuffed.

	Stanton was housed in a magnificent old mansion surrounded by a
high stone wall.  The gates opened when Joan pushed a button on
the dash.  When we were inside they automatically closed behind
us.  We drove up a long winding drive to the main house.  A dozen
young women in school uniforms were scattered around the lawn in
front of the house.  They were all attractive and fit and
represented several different races.  I saw one African girl and
a couple of Asians. The rest were Caucasian - some blondes, some
brunettes, and one redhead.

	They watched with idle curiosity as Joan unfastened the spring
clip and refasten it with my hands behind my back before leading
me inside.  Obviously the sight of a nude, cuffed woman wasn't
all that unusual at Stanton.

	When we entered we were in a reception area.  A young woman
wearing the uniform of a student was sitting behind a small but
elegant desk.  Joan led me over and said, "Alicia, this is Rita.
She's new.  I'll leave her with you while I talk to Mr. Samms." 
Joan turned to me and said, "Obey Alicia as you would me.  If you
misbehave you'll be punished."  I just nodded since I still had
my panties in my mouth.

	Joan walked away and disappeared through a door on the far side
of the room.  Alicia smiled and said, "Come around the desk and
kneel down beside me."  I obeyed and she immediately pulled my
panties out of my mouth, refolded them, and stuffed them into my
vagina. "What's your name?"

	My first attempt to speak ended in a croak because my throat was
dry.  Alicia produced a bottle of water and held it for me so I
could take a drink.  "Rita."

	She smiled. "Oh, an American!  Jolly good."  She cupped my tits
and when I made to pull away she slapped me.  "Don't pull away. 
Sooner or later everyone here is going to have you and
vice-versa.  Relax and enjoy it.  Unless you enjoy pain."  The
slap hadn't been too hard but hard enough to sting.  I kept my
mouth shut.  She caressed my cheek for a moment.   "I love pain.
I love feeling it and I love giving it.  Don't fuck with me." 
She smiled dreamily as she cupped my tits.  "Maybe Miss Joan will
let me whip you later."

	'How long have you been here?"

	She squeezed my tits gently.  "Five months.  I graduate in a
month.  I'm going to a brothel in Paris that specializes in
pain."  She pinched my nipples and I whimpered in pain.  She
continued to fondle and torment me until Joan reappeared and took
up my leash.

	I followed Joan up a flight of stairs to a large open room
filled with cots.  Each cot had a mattress and a pillow but no
linens.  The mattresses were thin.  "The dormitory.  Your cot is
number 54.  The lavatory is over there.  We have 15 showers for
60 girls.  You'll sleep nude.  In fact, when you're on this floor
you'll be nude at all times.  Understand?"

	I nodded, "Yes, Miss Joan."

	She smiled.  "You learn quickly.  Good."  She led me back
downstairs and turned me over to a nurse.  I was given a thorough
physical examination.  The nurse, Miss Joy, removed the spring
clip and let me remove my panties from my vagina.  I threw them
away.   When the exam was over she took my temperature with a
rectal thermometer.  Then she gave me an enema. Finally, I was
turned over to a student named Greta, a blonde German girl, who
took me to dinner.  It was six p.m.  I didn't sit at the table
with the other girls.  Greta fastened my cuffs together behind my
back and led me up to the head table where the staff sat.   She
put me on my knees between Joan and Mr. Samms, the headmaster.

	Joan fed me from her plate, using her fingers.  Halfway through
the meal Mr. Samms snapped his fingers and told me to get under
the table and suck his cock.  I obeyed, blushing furiously when a
couple of the students giggled.  His cock was long and thin and
he came within a minute.  He held my head and made me swallow
every drop of cum.  When it was over her zipped himself and
glanced at Joan.  "Not *too* bad but she needs training.  Whip
her later for poor performance."

	Joan nodded.  "Yes, Mr. Samms."  When dinner was officially over
she took me to her quarters and whipped me with the same leather
strap she'd used earlier.  I was still sobbing when she summoned
a student and told her to take me to the dormitory.  Joan removed
the leash and cuffs and I followed the student, a slender redhead
named Marie, back to the dormitory.

	Marie stopped and stripped on the landing outside the dormitory
door.  She was French and spoke English with a delightful accent.
 She'd only been at Stanton for a month.  She had a lovely
slender body - fine legs, a tight little butt, and firm round
tits tipped with puffy pink nipples.  I was surprised to see that
she was completely shaved.  She smiled at me as she folded her
clothes.  "Ever eat pussy?"

	I shook my head.  "No, never."

	She grinned.  "Then I'll be your first."  She sounded delighted.
 She opened the door and ushered me inside.  I was stunned by the
sight of nearly sixty naked women sitting or standing, chatting
with one another, reading, or writing a letter.  They ranged from
merely attractive, like me, to stunningly beautiful.  But all
were fit and had taut, lovely bodies.  There was no privacy of
any kind.  The showers were communal, fifteen shower heads in one
big room.  The toilets were out in the open, no stalls at all. 
Same with the bidets.

	Marie took me to her bunk, number 31, and put her clothes in the
trunk at the foot of the bunk.  "You'll get your uniform
tomorrow.  Until then you'll stay nude.  It's just as well.  If
you had clothes you'd be continually undressing and dressing." 
She smiled at my blank look.  "Sex. Everyone in her will want to
try you. But I'm first.  Get down on your knees."

	She sat down on her bunk and I dropped to my knees in front of
her.  She was patient and taught me a lot about eating pussy in
the next twenty minutes.  Some of my boyfriends had liked going
down on me but being on the receiving end doesn't teach you squat
about doing it yourself.  You know what you like but usually you
have no idea how to go about doing it to someone else.  At least
I had no idea.  I was used to just laying back, moaning with
pleasure while my boyfriend licked me.

	It was about 8:00 p.m. when I went to my knees in front of
Marie.  My fear and distaste quickly vanished.  She smelled good
and tasted good and she moaned appreciatively as I explore the
delicate folds of her cunt with my tongue.  Lights out was at
10:00 and everyone had to be in her bunk, face down, when one of
the staff came in for bedcheck.  By 10:00 I'd gone down on seven
girls, including Marie.  One of them had tasted and smelled awful
but the rest had been pleasant experiences.

	I was on my bunk, face down, when bed check started.  Two staff
members with flashlights walked up and down the aisles.  One was
Joan.  She stopped by my bunk and crouched down.  "Are youokay?"

	I nodded and whispered, "Yes, Miss Joan."

	She chuckled.  "Good.  Now reach back and spread your buttocks."
 I obeyed and she lubricated my anus with petroleum jelly before
inserting a butt plug made of hard rubber.  "Make sure this stays
in.  Someone will check periodically.  If it's out you'll be
severely punished. Understand?"

	"Yes, Miss Joan."

	She patted my shoulder.  "Good.  I'm going to tie you down so
you stay on your belly." She tied my wrists and ankles to the
frame of the cot.  My legs were spread and I felt very
vulnerable.  She crouched beside me when she was done and stroked
my back and buttocks until I stopped shivering.  "Good girl. 
I'll see you in the morning."

	Everything was quiet for a good fifteen minutes after Joan and
the other staff member left.  Then a group of girls, including
Marie, gathered around my cot.  They stroked me and licked me and
kissed me and masturbated me to orgasm after orgasm.  I don't
know how long it lasted but it could have been as long as an
hour.  Then, suddenly, they were gone and I fell asleep a few
minutes later.  It's a good thing I have a strong bladder because
I wasn't freed until six a.m.

	In the morning I was untied and allowed to use the bathroom.  It
was hard in full view of everyone but when I realized that nobody
was paying any particular attention it got a little easier. After
I watched a cute blonde wipe her ass it go still easier.  I
watched her use the bidet and was surprised at how much it
aroused me.  The blonde was still in the shower room when I
entered. She beckoned to me and I walked over to her.  She poured
some shampoo in her hand and said, "Kneel down and I'll wash your
hair."  I got down on my knees and she shampooed my hair and then
applied conditioner.  After I stood up she washed my body.  Then
she kissed me and said, "I'm going to have you later.  I can't
wait."  We walked out together and toweled each other dry.

	I still didn't have any clothes so I went down and ate breakfast
nude.  After breakfast, a student took me to orientation.  I
spent an hour there, learning all the rules and shit like that.
Then I was taken to Ms. Hall who outfitted me with two uniforms,
black penny loafers, knees socks, underwear, bras, and sports
clothing.  She also gave me a razor, shampoo, soap, toothbrush,
toothpaste, deodorant, etc. etc. etc.  Next stop was the school
beauty salon, a two- chair facility where I had my hair cut and
styled and my pubic hair removed with warm wax.  The hairdresser,
Ms. Coombs, decided to keep my hair short, because she agreed
that the tomboy look suited me.

	I was on my way back to the dorm to put on a uniform before
reporting to Joan when a man stepped out of an office and ordered
me inside.  He bent me over a desk and fucked me.  I had cum
running down my thighs when I resumed my walk to the dorm.  I
showered again and got dressed.  I had to admit that I looked
cute and sexy in my uniform.  My skirt was short enough to show a
lot of my slender, firm thighs.  I'd almost gotten used to being
nude but I thought I looked sexier in the uniform.

	The rules at Stanton weren't complicated.  Staff members were
gods and goddesses. They could use any student at any time for
almost anything.  There were minor restrictions designed to keep
the students from being damaged in any way that would lessen
their market value.  Consensual sex between students was
allowable anywhere as long as the students in question were on
their own time.  All students had a numbered tag hanging from
their collar.  This tag denoted seniority.  I was #54 when I
arrived.  Your tag number and your bunk number were the same.  
At the time #54 was the highest number, denoting that I was at
the bottom of the totem pole.  The highest possible number was
#60 since the school could accommodate a maximum of 60 students.
Any student with a lower number could use me sexually as long as
we were on our own time.  Any student with a number from 1-10
could also punish, within precise limits, any student with a
higher number.

	We were taught how to conduct ourselves in society.  We were
taught to speak proper English.  We were taught how to walk, how
to talk, and how to dress for every conceivable occasion.  We
were taught history, current events, we had to read the classics.
 And we were taught sexual techniques - the best ways to please
men and women.  In short, we were trained to be courtesans or, if
you prefer, expensive high-class whores.

	Any problems exhibited by any of the students were dealt with in
a manner uniquely suited to the problem.  My aversion to anal sex
had been noted during one of my interviews. They dealt with it by
having me sleep on my stomach for the first month with a butt
plug in my ass.  For the first two weeks I was tied down each
night.  After that, if I'd been caught without it inserted I'd
have been caned and since canes terrified me more that taking it
in the ass I never removed a butt plug without permission.  
Also, I was fucked in the ass at least once each day. Often, in
front of other students.  And each time I was fucked in the ass
it was followed by a session where I was brought to ogasm at
least three times, through intercourse, mastubation, or
cunnilingus.  By the end of the month I had learned to tolerate
anal sex and, later on, to enjoy it.

	On my second day, while I was sitting in a classroom, listening
to a lecture on ettiquette, Joan came in with a cute guy named
Jim who worked in the fitness center.  She made me stand up and
strip.  Then four of the girls held me bent over my desk while
Jim fucked me in the ass.  I cried in shame as I was greased and
fucked.  Afterward, I was masturbated to orgasm by one girl while
two others licked my nipples and fondled my tits.  Then they took
turns going down on me. So it's no wonder that after a month of
this kind of treatment I was tolerant of taking it in the ass.

	The girl who was #10 when I arrived was Asian, from Hong Kong. 
She was a slender beauty with coal-black hair, beautiful
almond-shaped eyes, and smooth copper skin.  She only had three
weeks left before she finished but she took a fancy to me and
used me every chance she got.  She enjoyed humiliating me and her
favorite thing was to take me into the lavatory and make me
crouch on the floor while she urinated on me, an activity she was
permitted to indulge in according to the rules.  One day, when I
refused to kneel and let her piss on my face while my mouth was
open, she filed a complaint with Mr. Samms.

	I spent an hour suspended upside-down with a huge punishment
dildo shoved up my ass.  The dildo had Ben-Gay smeared on the
tip.  I screamed my guts out for the entire hour. My throat was
raw from screaming by the time they let me down.  It was the
worst pain I've ever experienced.  When I was released I went and
found #10.  I stripped naked and went down on my belly in front
of her.  Then I licked her feet in submission and begged her to
piss in my mouth. She rolled me onto my back and squatted over
me.  I choked and gagged as she pissed into my mouth from a
distance of no more than six inches.  When it was over  I wanted
to run to the lavatory and throw up.  She made me crawl on my
belly.  That night, as I lay on my bed, tied down, a dozen or
more girls came and pissed on me.  I learned my lesson and never,
ever refused any request, no matter how disgusting because I knew
the alternative would be worse.

	I progressed through my training and by the time it was over I
was a well-educated whore.  I'd had more sex in six months that
in the seven previous years.  I was sent to Paris where I worked
out of a high-class brothel located not far from the Eiffel
Tower.  Within three months I was approached by a woman named
Mirelle who wanted me to herself.  She negotiated terms with
Stanton and brothel and I became her exclusive property.

As I write this I'm sitting on the fantail of a 150' yacht
anchored in the harbor at Cannes. I'm using a laptop that Mirelle
bought me.  I'm naked, tanned, and oiled and a pretty sixteen
year old girl is licking my pussy while I type this story.  The
girl's name is Leila, she's a Palestinian Mirelle found in a
refugee camp.  Leila believes that spending her days nude,
licking pussy, is a small price to pay for being rescued from the
camps.

The End





























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