Message-ID: <8264eli$9802091844@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: jaypee Subject: repost 0-5 TORTURED TEACHER 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: <34DD99BF.166@KIVA.NET> TORTURED TEACHER -- introduction I thought that this index might be useful. I am also including at the top of most chapters a list of INDEX WORDS, which you may use, with the SEARCH function of your WRITE or NOTEBOOK program, as a sort of bookmark to what I consider the "good" parts. Index to TORTURED TEACHER Chap 1 preview of tortures 2 preview of humiliation 3 overview of torture den 4 anticipation of capture 5 the Boss's advances 6 groundwork for capture 7 the capture 8 whipping, surrender 9 pinch breasts, strip, forced lesbian 10 blow jobs for the camera 11 frustrating lesbianism, female masturbation 12 morning after, no undies 13 back to school, extra date tonight 14 lesbian grope, ready for the whipping 15 nipple irritation ("spiders") 16 whipped (especially breasts), breast clams ("crushers") 17 gang rape 18 night with Angie, the "masked rapist", anal rape 19 life is routine 20 "party girl" prisoner 21 digital examination 22 calibration of tolerance for pain 23 teaching machine for a whore 24 lesbian rape again 25 the first customer -- map pins 26 breast and genital torture; urine cocktail 27 prolonged torture session 28 life in the town; unmasking the Rapist 29 the worm turns 30 wrap-up TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 1 (was Troubled Teacher) by Joy Paine index words: tortures t# 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. "OK," Gertie cried. "Here's Betty. That makes the whole club, except Susie. When are you going to let us in on the big secret?" The other women murmured their support for Gertie's impatience. "Or do we have to wait for Susie, too?" one of them complained. "No," said Sheila. "Susie is the one girl we won't have to wait for. I happen to know that she can't make it today, and I happen to know why. And that 'why' is the reason that I called you all together on a day that isn't our regular bridge day." She smiled mysteriously. The babble of voices rose again, to be silenced by Sheila's outstretched hands. "You see," she went on, "Susie is working today. Susie," she smiled, is a whore." The voices rose in a crescendo of disbelief. "Not goody-goody Susie" and "You're kidding!" and other similar phrases were heard above the general tumult. Once again Sheila managed to quiet them. "Hold on, let me finish. Not only is she a whore, but she's working in an anything-goes House that caters not only -- now get this, girls -- not only to men, but also to women customers. And I propose that we drop in on her en masse, for a surprise visit." Again the tumult of uncontrolled discussion and disbelief. Again,Sheila made herself heard. "Hold it!" she shouted. "Let's not cackle like a flock of chickens. I'll be glad to answer -- or at least to discuss -- any of your questions, but let's have a little order. Betty, what were you saying?" "What do you mean by 'anything goes'"? Betty asked. t# "OK, it's a slight exaggeration, but it's the term that was used by her -- ah -- pimp. No, don't ask me how I got to know him -- I have a right to some secrets, after all. But the rules are that we can do anything at all, as long as it doesn't leave any permanent marks on her body, or inflict any lasting injury. Jack -- let's call him that -- assures me that they have special whips and paddles, for instance, that give various parts of the body a wonderful rosy glow, and make the victim squirm and squeal most prettily, but leave no marks at all that are visible an hour or so after they are used. "And then they have thumbscrews that pinch the nipples, and bigger clamps that squeeze the whole boobs, hard enough to be very painful, but not hard enough to injure the girl. And a special electric-shock thing -- something like a cattle-prod -- that plugs right into the pussy, batteries and all, so that all that is visible is the wire that sticks out, with a switch on the end of it." Sheila noticed that some of the women were starting to drool by now, while some of them were unconsciously rubbing their breasts in self-stimulation. "And of course there are all sorts of things you can do with needles," she went on. "Another cute little item is the dancing slippers. They have electric switches built into them, connected up so that any time she keeps either foot on the floor more than a second -- or whenever both feet touch the floor at the same time -- they set off that electric-shock tampon that she's wearing. And, to keep her mind on business, we can make her wear special clothes all the time -- like a bra-and-panty set lined in the strategic areas with dozens of pin points that give her a little reminder every time she moves. "And in between times, she'll lick our pussies, of course." "But how do they get her to put up with things like that?" "That's one question I can't answer," Sheila admitted. "Maybe she has latent masochistic tendencies, maybe she's being blackmailed. Or maybe she does it strictly for the money. One thing for sure, she doesn't come cheap." "With treatment like that, I'd be surprised if she was able to come at all," one of the girls chuckled. "If we do decide to drop in on her," Sheila went on when the groans had subsided, "It'll cost us $50 each. That's a total of $350 from the seven of us, for one afternoon's work. A pretty good income for her, but only $50 each for us. Just imagine -- $50 to get our little Susie to be dummy all afternoon, while we make one grand slam after another." "And she goes down on every trick," Gertie giggled. That broke them up for a while. TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 2 by Joy Paine index words: humiliation h# 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. "But wait a minute", one of the ladies protested. "You mentioned the possibility of blackmail. How can we make sure that they don't take pictures of us that they can use to blackmail us afterward? I just can't imagine anything worse than being forced to work in a place like that," she shuddered. "I've thought of that, too," Sheila replied. "Look here." She picked up a little suitcase from the floor, laid it on the table. Opening the lid, drew out what looked like a small bag, made of black silk. Drawing the bag over her head, she adjusted it so the eyeholes were in the right place, and tied the drawstrings under her chin. "There," she said, her voice a bit muffled by the silk. "I defy the Devil himself to recognize me now, especially with my clothes off." A naughty tone crept into her voice. "Sure, we'll be naked, of course. We'll feel much more wicked that way. And it'll be more fun when Susie gives us the blow job -- or we work on each other, if the spirit moves us. And look," she demonstrated, "these masks have flaps that open up over the mouth, so they won't interfere with any kissing we want to do. "And that's part of the fun, too," she went on. "If we want to make a little love with one another, nobody will know for sure who her partner is. And the rest of the girls won't know who is making out, of course. And -- most delicious of all -- Susie won't know who is raping her (I think we can use that word) while we'll know damned who she is. "So any pictures that are taken will show only Susie with a bunch of anonymous naked girls, so there's no possible way they can be used to blackmail any of us. h# "As a matter of fact," she added as an afterthought, "we might like to take a few pictures ourselves. Not only as souvenirs, but just think of the kick if we spring them on Susie some time during our regular bridge sessions. For instance," she giggled, "we could have a set of prints made up the size of our playing cards, and let the dummy casually lay them out some time when Susie is declarer. You'd be willing to make the prints for us in your lab, wouldn't you, Gertie?" Gertie nodded, caught up in the spirit of the adventure. "So let's put it to a vote. We don't all have to go, although Jack says that we'll have to pay a total of $350, regardless of how many of us do take part. How about it, girls?" The motion carried unanimously. TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 3 by Joy Paine Index words: venues of torture v# 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 luxuriated in the hot shower for the short time that the matron allowed her, wishing that the feeling of filthiness would wash off along with the semen and the sweat (both his and hers) and the little bit of blood from the minor injuries her last "date" had inflicted. At least the wounds were in places where no-one but her customers would see them, she consoled herself. Not even a lover -- not a normal one, at any rate -- would be likely to give her the intimate sort of examination that would reveal those minute scratches and needle pricks. And she knew, from bitter experience, that even that slight evidence would be gone in a few hours -- or a day at most. Would to God that her soul would heal, as her body would. The matron turned off the hot water, making Susie stand under the cold shower until her whole body tingled, then let her get out and towel off. Susie knew the rest of the routine, again from bitter experience. The enema, the astringent douche, the vaginal and rectal suppositories, to keep things all nice and tight and slippery. And perfumed. And to kill any lingering germs, although the careful screening of the House's lientele was usually enough to eliminate any chance of disease. v# The madam, who liked to be referred to as the "matron", had told Susie that there was a special section of the House, where clients with herpes and other venereal diseases were permitted, but the girls that worked in that area were never made available to the "clean" customers. And Susie had been warned that she would be a candidate for that section if she ever let her figure go, or if she got moody or sullen, or if . . ., or if . . . or if . . . The list seemed endless. And believe me, she told herself, I'm going to do whatever it takes -- whatever at all -- to keep from having to serve in the "Pit", as the matron archly called it. Even the Dungeon, where the tortures sometimes got to be really serious, or the Zoo, where the girls had to amuse a cheering audience by fucking with animals, were a less horrible fate than the Pit. TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 4 by Joy Paine Index words: plans p# 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. As she went through the humiliating ritual of getting ready for her next customer, Susie thought back to the way she had been trapped into this life of shame. "What's a nice girl like you . . .?" as the saying goes. She had been a virgin when she married Jim. Susie didn't think that this was such a big deal -- she had been brought up to think it was the normal order of things. Freshly graduated from Teachers' College, and full of ideals about saving the next generation through education, Susie had fallen hard for Jim's whirlwind courtship, and had been delighted to come to live with him in his home town. Live with him after they were married, that is. She just about drove Jim crazy during those courting days, holding out until the wedding night. Marriage did mean compromising a bit on her hopes for saving the world, though. Jim had pointed out to her that a wife who worked full time would be less able to help him advance his own career, and Susie had grown up with the belief that a wife's duty to her husband came before her own ambitions. Joining the Bridge Club was one of Jim's suggestions. The other members were all somewhat older than Susie, and were wives of the community's influential citizens, who were in a position to throw business Jim's way. And the level of their bridge playing was scarcely anything that Susie couldn't cope with. So she dutifully attended their sessions, listening to (but not participating in) their gossip, taking a turn at hosting the meetings, and hoping that her participation (which she dutifully tried not to think of as a sacrifice) was actually doing Jim some good. She was too innocent to realize that the other members regarded her with a mixture of envy and spite, taking a special pleasure in the rare occasions when she had a bad run of cards, and feeling all the more spiteful when she refused to let the bad luck dampen her optimism. She would have been very troubled and perplexed if she had known that the other members' conversations often dealt with ways in which "that high-nosed bitch could be taken down a peg". Unable to follow through with her high ideals about saving the world, Susie did the next best thing -- she got a job teaching part time in the local high school. But she soon found that high school pupils were not exactly the soft clay that she had expected. The "kids", who were actually but a few years younger than she, were for the most part cynical and worldly-wise, and her exhortations to moral conduct met more often with snickers than with acceptance. The worst of the bunch was a girl whose parents had named her Angela -- perhaps with a fine sense of irony. The only thing angelic about Angela was her body. She was really built -- too well-built according to Susie's standards, and certainly far too uninhibited in the way she flaunted her assets. Susie was embarrassed just to look at Angie's brazen display of tits and ass, and Angie was quick to realize this fact -- and to tease Susie all the more, to the delight of her classmates who were in the know. (Her male classmates were delighted by the display itself, of course, and to Hell what Teacher thought.) And the situation became even more embarrassing when Susie discovered that Angela's mother was Sheila, a member of her own bridge club. p# It happened that Angie once heard her mother talking with the other club members about "taking Susie down a peg", and heartily endorsed the idea. But Angie was a girl of action. She knew that a lot of the kids at school felt the same way about the snooty young teacher -- and even those who didn't feel strongly about it would go along with her plan, just for the sheer hell of it. Shit, with what she had in mind, she could think of half a dozen guys right off the bat who would jump at the chance to take part. Everybody loves a gangbang. And Angie didn't plan on being the bangee. Not this time, thank you. She didn't have any compunctions about pulling a train now and then, but this was going to be more than an ordinary orgy. This was going to be the cat's ass. Well, not the cat's, exactly. More like Susie's. TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 5 by Joy Paine Index words: horny principal p# 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. And two other things were bothering Susie. One, Jim was spending more and more time at work these days, staying at the office far into the evening,and often making out-of-town trips that took him away for days at a time. She knew that it was a sign that Jim's business was becoming more successful. He was even talking about hiring an assistant -- he said that he now had enough money to pay one, and almost enough work to keep him busy. But he was reluctant, he told Susie, to take an associate until he got rid of that "almost". It would be bad for morale, he said, to hire someone that he couldn't keep busy full time. And Susie couldn't argue with his logic, even though their sex life was dwindling to almost nothing. Even on the nights that he was at home, he was usually too tired to be much of a lover. Susie worried that Jim's declining attention to her might possibly have arisen from the fact that she had always been straitlaced in her bedroom habits. Jim had tried -- had tried very earnestly - - to get her to experiment with a few variations, but her Puritanical upbringing was too strong. Anything but the missionary position was just sinful, she was sure. She even felt uncomfortable when he saw her naked -- she hid in the closet while she undressed, and wore that heavy nightgown even while they were making love. She understood, of course, that accepting his "normal" sexual advances was a part of her wifely duties, but she felt awfully uncomfortable about it. And Jim was very nice about it. She knew that he would prefer for her to be a bit wanton, but he never complained when she failed to respond to his invitations to adventure. But she couldn't help wondering if her unyielding observance of the "niceties", as she called them, was as much a factor in the cooling of his ardor as the job was. In fairness to Jim, she almost wished that he would have an affair with some other woman, and get some of the pent-up frustration out of his system. But she knew that Jim was too faithful to do anything like that. p# The other thorn in Susie's side was the school Principal. She couldn't blame him, she supposed, for being attracted to a sweet young girl like Susie, but somehow his leering propositions gave the impression that he was making them simply because she was there -- that he would have been equally aggressive toward any reasonably attractive woman that happened by. She knew that her repeated refusals were making him all the more eager, but what could she do, for Pete's sake? And there was nothing subtle about his approach. Right out in the open. "How about coming over to spend the night at my place, now that Hubby is going out of town for the weekend?" he would ask. Somehow, he always seemed to know when Jim was going away. And it always seemed that he wanted her to work extra hours on those Fridays when Jim was going to be out of town. And there was no "seem" at all about his propositions (in fact, she thought, they were most unseemly) -- she could count on them, regular as clockwork. And lately, it seemed that she was having to spend more and more time with the Principal. Mostly talking about Angie, and the other kids who seemed to regard Angie as a ringleader. Susie was at a complete loss with Angie -- and Angie knew it, of course. Kids can sense those things, as surely as a dog can smell fear. Susie didn't dare to discuss the problem with Sheila. She knew that Jim would resent anything she did that might cause ill feelings in the community. And she knew that Sheila would hardly accept kindly any suggestion that her daughter was an ill-mannered, immoral, trouble-making bitch -- which is really what the truth boiled down to. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |