Message-ID: <8107eli$9802041402@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: jaypee Subject: Tortured Teacher 8 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34D81238.40F7@KIVA.NET> TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 8 by Joy Paine Index words: whipped w# NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time. Susie gasped. She knew the meaning of the word -- her life hadn't been that sheltered. After all, she had lived in a college dormitory for four years. Her anger flared up again. "I'll do no such thing!" she protested. "You can take your dirty ideas, and your dirty sheets, and . . ." She broke off in a yelp of pain as one of the boys hit her with a leather strap, the lash curling around her calves, just below her skirt. Everyone laughed. Everyone but Susie. By now, Chuck had arrived. "Susie honey," he leered, "you should see how nicely you jiggle when you jump. Especially with your tits hanging out like that," he added. Susie's face burned a flaming red. She had forgotten that she had been removing her blouse when she came up the stairs, that her bra was starkly revealed, with its hint of firm female flesh within. More than a hint, actually -- the tantalizing upper slopes of her breasts were fully exposed to the lecherous stares of the boys -- and to Angie's cynical inspection. Belatedly, she crossed her arms over her breasts, all bravado lost in the realization of her complete vulnerability. The strap bit into her legs again. "Let's see a bit of respect now, Teacher," the boy taunted. "Let's see you stand up straight, with your hands at your sides. Stand at attention -- chin up, shoulders back, and -- ah -- chest out." He emphasized the command with another blow. w# Susie crumpled into a heap on the floor, face buried in her hands. She didn't notice that her skirt had crept up, exposing the lower part of her nicely rounded thighs, until her tormentor rained a series of blows on her. The other boys quickly took off their belts and joined in the fun, while Susie writhed in agony. "OK!" Angie finally called above Susie's wails. "Enough. For the time being, anyway. I think that little Susie may be softened up enough by now so that she'll be a little more cooperative. On your feet, cunt!" she barked. Painfully, Susie drew herself to her feet. "So stand at attention, like you were told." All resistance gone, Susie obeyed the command, agonizingly aware that her blouse now hung fully open, but not daring to do anything that would conceal her almost-naked charms. She knew what the boys wanted to look at. And she knew what else they were going to want, too. "Now," Angie sneered, confirming her fears, "let's get down to cases. I'm sure that these fine specimens of American manhood just can't wait to fuck you. Right, guys?" The answer was a chorus of cheers. "And you just can't wait for them to do it, can you, Susie dear?" "No!" Susie screamed. "Please, not that! I'll do anything you want, but please -- please don't -- don't violate me!" "Violate", Angie mimicked the word. "How cute! Well, maybe we can work out something else that you can do instead. No, don't grumble, fellows. Let's just see if we can work out a good compromise for all concerned. "Let's see. First of all, we have the problems of what Susie-Floozie is going to do after we leave. It would be most embarrassing if she went running to the police. Even though it would be her word against ours, any accusation would prejudice the pigs against us if they catch us in another caper. "So what to do, Susie? We can't take your word that you'll forgive and forget, of course. So the obvious alternative would be to quietly slit your throat after we finish doing you. After all, dead women don't tell tales, any more than dead men do. Maybe we could have a little fun along the way, like slicing your tits off first. How about it?" "Please --" Susie protested. "Please don't kill me." "Just like the classic advice they give to rape victims," Angie gloated. "Survival is the first order of the day, no matter what the price. OK, so let's negotiate the price. "It occurs that it might protect us if you let us take pictures of the action -- plus some shots of you getting ready for the gig. That way, if you scream Copper, we can show that you were really cooperating. And you would find yourself in trouble, anyway, for contributing to the delinquency of minors. Well, we're not all minors, exactly, but a teacher is supposed to be guardian of her students' morals, and all that." "Yeah," pointed out one of the boys. "Even if we did get into hot water, they'd blame her more than they would us. Shame on you, you hussy!" he whittled his finger at Susie, "leading us into the paths of temptation." "So let's have your opinion, Susie dear," Angie went on. "Will you pose for the pictures, or do you consider it a fate worse than death? Literally, that is," she added. Susie forced herself to nod her acquiescence. "And now for the other question. Are you willing to give me a real first-class Frenching, or would you rather be fucked by the boys?" "Please -- I'll do what you want," Susie wailed. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |