Message-ID: <24352asstr$959652604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: StoryMaster X-Original-Message-ID: Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Subject: {ASSM} NEW: "T.Y.T.C. 4.6 - Teresa's Tale" - by The StoryMaster - [M+~TeenF+, nc] 6/? Date: Mon, 29 May 2000 22:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW. ________________________________________________________ Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must. ________________________________________________________ T.Y.T.C. 4.6 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster Her first few steps were rather painful actually as the seven inch anal insert that the Center had provided her with jabbed painfully at Teresa's insides. One could always tell a new Guest by her waddling gate. After a few days, however, she would become used to it and adjust herself around its continuous presence. But always it would be there for her, drawing Teresa's attention away from those things that are unimportant and helping her to focus. Padding along behind her Handler, Teresa felt extremely exposed in her present state of nakedness. "At least in that last hideous place they'd dressed her," she thought to herself. "Let go of me," Teresa snapped obstinately when after walking a few yards, the fact that she was being led by the hand like a small child became abhorrent to her. Without a word, Scott transferred his grip to her wrist and pulled the upset teenager along behind him. "I said, let go!" Teresa shouted and began to struggle with Scott. "How quickly they forget," Scott muttered to himself. He didn't have to look back for he knew what was about to take place. As he tugged his stubborn charge along against her will, Cliff came up from behind. Scott heard the telltale grunt characteristic of disciplinary CAP management, and knew that Cliff had offered Teresa some encouragement. She'd leaned over and nearly succeeded in biting Scott's hand when the blow was struck. As a result, Teresa pitched forward and came very close to falling when the vile instrument in her rear end was struck by the second Handler. By design, the force of his blow was direction to the base of Teresa's spine, knocking the wind out of the disobedient teenager, and causing her knees to buckle. Cliff was quick to grab her under her armpit thus preventing an embarrassing spill. Scott, refusing to recognize the young woman's distress, continued to tug on her wrist, forcing her to stumble behind him down the corridor. Hearing her grunt a second time as a result of some additional inspiration, Scott at last looked back at the chestnut haired beauty he had in tow. "Kindly keep up, Miss Davidson. We have a busy schedule this evening." The look of astonishment the girl gave him was almost comical. "They're all the same for the first week or so," Scott mused. "Head strong, contentious, determined to resist, still certain that somehow they will be delivered from their fate." Since the Center opened nearly fourteen years ago, not a single Guest has ever left the fold before her time. When at last, a young lady is deemed ready to graduate, she is not the same young lady who once stood before the Headmaster's desk at her "Double I". In addition, the placement program at TYTC makes absolutely certain that the new life she will be assuming is far removed from her past existence. No details are left unattended to. All the "I's" are dotted and the "T's" crossed. The security system at The Youth Training Center is altogether failsafe. Generally after the first week, Guests begin to become somewhat less insubordinate. By the time they enter their second week, they have usually come to grips with the fact that they will not be rescued or released. Also, the daily training regimens they engage in tend to keep them quite well occupied. After two weeks, the Center's persistent program of conditioning using sexual impetus begins to erode their sense of self. Then once the trappings of her old belief system are cast aside, the work begins to create a new young woman with fresh new ideals. Arrogance is replaced by willingness, vanity by humility, and impertinence by obedience. Where once there was discord, harmony reigns. Teresa's life was far from harmonious at the moment. She'd ceased her struggling following Cliff's second swat of her CAP Device. Now she merely muttered curses under her breath while she was lead down a labyrinth of corridors toward an uncertain future. The Youth Training Center was indeed immense. Constructed in utter secrecy, the entire sprawling structure with its offices, laboratories, dormitories, classrooms and other training facilities was built three stories underground. Only one well concealed and extremely well guarded portal allowed entrance and egress of both pedestrian and vehicular traffic to the complex. Additionally, Adam North alone knew of its precise location. Staff members as well as Guests and the occasional visiting Client are ferried in by unmarked shuttle vans. The van drivers are permitted to make one trip only for which they are paid an enormous amount of money. Then they are given a drug which in effect eradicates short term memory. The average duty shift for Handlers and other Associates is six months. While in residence, all of their needs are met and exceeded. The quality of work life of its employees is extremely important to the Center, and because of this, the system has worked flawlessly for over fourteen years. The soreness resulting from her unfamiliarity with her anal appliance was becoming intolerable when at last Teresa was brought to a halt before a recessed door marked "Fitting Room". Scott entered his pass code on a keypad on the wall and the steel door hissed open. Turning to Cliff he said, "Give me a hand getting her secured, and then you may carry on." Cliff nodded his understanding, then placed a hand on Teresa's back between her shoulder blades. With Scott leading her by the hand and Cliff applying gentle but firm pressure from behind, Teresa was ushered into the white tiled room. Momentarily blinded by the bright lights glaring off the tile walls and floor, Teresa hesitated in the entryway as the door hissed closed behind her. "Come along now, Miss Davidson," Scott said as the two men pulled her into the room. As her eyes adjusted to the gleam of white tile and stainless steel, Teresa was afforded a brief look around while she stumbled forward. "The room looked a lot like an operating room in a hospital," she thought as she eyed the grey surfaced lab benches and the many drawers and cabinets that lined three of the room's four walls. "Come now, Miss Davidson. Let's not dawdle," she heard the man named Scott say. Looking at, then past the white coverall clad man, Teresa saw what the two Handlers were guiding her toward. At first glance, the apparatus looked like a form fitting fiberglass chair with a high back and head rest. As she was pulled closer, Teresa's anxiety level increased when she noticed the restraint bands on the arms of the strange chair. What she really didn't like seeing were the two gynecological style stainless steel stirrups, complete with ankle restraints attached to the contrivance. What Teresa was looking at, of course, is called "The Cooperation Seat". The fiberglass, anatomically shaped seat standsd at approximately the same height as a barber's chair and has controls that allow it to be raised or lowered to any height. The entire chair can also be tilted, allowing its occupant to be seated upright or leaned back into a recumbent position. The real distinguishing feature of the apparatus is the seat itself. The seat bottom is split into two sections such that the occupant's thighs are cradled and supported while leaving her buttocks free and accessible. Attached to the seat are two leg extensions which end in stainless steel stirrups. The lower extremity extensions are articulated such that they can be adjusted in virtually any direction, side to side or up and down. On the sides of the chair are arm rests which, like the leg extensions, are also adjustable. Additionally, like the leg rests, they are equipped with nylon restraint straps which fasten with velcro closures. Just above the top of the seat back a padded restraint band is attached to a head rest at neck level. Once seated in the "Cooperation Seat", and restrained at the throat, arms and legs, a Guest is completely immobilized. Teresa wasn't given the opportunity to refuse or resist. Without a word, the two Handlers each took an arm, and Teresa was lifted off her feet and plopped summarily down into the specialty chair. With a deftness and efficiency that only comes from practice, the dumbfounded teenager was secured to the Cooperation Seat, and then, as promised, Cliff was excused. Scott stood gazing down at his young charge for several moments with an approving look on his face. No one spoke. It wasn't until she was securely strapped to the evil piece of furniture that Teresa got a really good look at her tormentor. For the first time, Teresa realized how young he was. At last, breaking the uncomfortable silence, Scott said, "Well, if you have no objections, Miss Davidson, we'll get started." Teresa opened her mouth to say something, but Scott cut her off. "Silence, Miss Davidson," he instructed. Then he quoted one of those damnable rules, "A Guest shall only speak when told to do so." Gratifyingly, it worked. The stubborn young woman shut her mouth and sat glaring at him coldly. Teresa was seated in a more or less upright position for the time being. Her legs were bent at the knee and spread only slightly, her ankles perhaps eighteen inches apart. She was somewhat reclined as one might sit in a comfortable lounger. The ankle and wrist restraints were fastened securely while the padded band about her neck was left loose enough that she could turn her head freely. She looked quite cozy, actually. Picking up a metallic clipboard from a lab table beside her seat, Scott said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "We shall begin your examination, Miss Davidson, with several questions. I expect for you to answer them promptly and truthfully." Teresa refused to look at him, and Scott allowed her transgression to slide for the moment in favor of getting started. "According to our records, Miss Davidson," Scott began. "You are eighteen years of age. Your date of birth is April 21, 1982." He paused and looked up at the young girl. No response. Continuing, "You are five feet, six inches tall and weigh one hundred eleven pounds. Brown hair, green eyes. Any other distinguishing marks, Miss Davidson? Moles or birthmarks?" When again she refused to answer, Scott muttered, "None noted." He scribbled on his pad. "Your exterior dimension are currently Hips: 32", Waist: 20", Breasts: 35". Are we OK so far?" He waited. "At some point, Miss Davidson, you will have to answer my questions. Your repeated impertinence has been duly noted in your permanent records, and I suggest that if you do not wish to suffer the consequences, you should reconsider your position and cooperate." He glared at the recalcitrant young woman. "Look at me when I address you, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered. His patience was rapidly waning. Reaching out, he took her chin in his hand and raised her face to his. Teresa naturally tried to resist, but Scott, although young, was very strong and easily overpowered her. "If you prefer, I can call in a volunteer or two to assist you with the decision making process," he added ominously. At last Teresa looked at him. Her emerald eyes were clear and filled with defiance and willfulness. But as she stared into the cold dark eyes of the young Handler, her confidence suddenly flagged, and the obstinate young woman averted her gaze. Having won the latest battle of wills, Scott released Teresa and continued. His questions were innocuous and non-invasive. "Are you experiencing any health problems, Miss Davidson, or are you under a doctor's care at the present time?" Glancing up, he was gratified to see Teresa shake her head, "No". Scott paid very close attention to Teresa's body language during this interview portion of the examination. The girl's shoulders had drooped noticeably following his first question. "Are you currently taking any prescribed medications?" "No," Teresa replied softly. With a nod in her direction Scott continued, "How about allergies, Miss Davidson? Are you allergic to any prescription drugs like penicillin, for example?" Teresa lowered her gaze then shook her head. "Thank you, Miss Davidson. Your cooperation is appreciated." He smiled almost warmly. "Do you drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes?" That question seemed to strike a cord with Teresa. Perhaps there was some alcohol abuse in her past. "No way!" she responded adamantly. "I'm not stupid, you know!" "Very well, then," Scott continued calmly. He made a note in her file. "Did father or estranged mother have a drinking problem?" He would look into this possibility. It could be useful. "Have you used any recreational drugs in the last six months, marijuana or cocaine, perhaps?" Teresa looked away sheepishly. She did not answer. "Miss Davidson, answer the question, please," Scott prompted after a suitable pause. "Do you use drugs other than prescription drugs?" He waited. When no answer was forthcoming, Scott again took the young woman by her chin and forced her to look at him. "You were doing so well, Miss Davidson. Please don't disappoint me. We will find out, you know, either through outside sources or drug testing, so you might just as well cooperate." Staring into the troubled green eyes of his young charge, Scott could see `the wheels turning' as Teresa considered her options. At last, in a tiny guilt ridden voice the teenager whispered, "I smoked some pot with my brother this summer." "I beg your pardon, Miss Davidson," Scott responded. He'd heard what she said but wanted her to repeat her admission. He jotted another note in her file. "Brother...Drugs?" Teresa stared in disbelief into the young man's dark eyes. "Are you deaf?" she asked incredulously. "I said that I smoked some pot with my brother. What's it to you anyway?" In a very stern tone of voice, Scott retorted, "It is not your place to question our motives, Miss Davidson. Simply answer the questions. Any other drug use?" he asked flatly. "Very well, I'll consider your silence to mean "No"," Scott said after a moment. He released his grip on her chin, and she looked away. "What about birth control pills, Miss Davidson?" It was his first somewhat personal question. Surprisingly, she answered rather promptly. "No," Teresa replied flatly. Then she added under her breath, "Not that it's any of your business." Again Scott was forced to correct her. "To the contrary, Miss Davidson. Everything about you is our business." He let his statement sink in for a moment, then went on. "Let's discuss your gynecological history." Teresa gazed up at him in utter astonishment. "This is unbelievable!" she thought. "At what age did you begin menstruating and are your periods usually light or heavy?" Scott asked the stupefied teenager. Teresa was so astounded by the gall of the man that she caught herself staring at him with her mouth hanging open, and several moments passed before she found her voice. "Who do you think you are, asking me a personal question like that! You're no doctor. You can go to hell, if you think I'm going to answer you!" With that, Teresa shut her mouth and sat in obstinate silence, glaring defiantly at Scott, daring him with her eyes to test her determination. Scott stood in thoughtful silence for a good long time while he assessed the situation. Then like the professional he was, he made his decision. Teresa tracked him warily with her eyes as he moved to an intercom panel on the far wall. She could not hear what was said, but she didn't have to wait long to find out the results of his communication. It seemed like only a matter of seconds before the door opened and a tall man dressed in the garb of a TYTC Handler walked in. Teresa knew instantly that she was in trouble. Scott had called her bluff. "Hello, Scott. Long time no see," the tall Handler said as he walked toward the Cooperation Seat and its stubborn occupant. "Got a difficult one, I hear." "Hi, Larry," Scott replied cordially. "It has been awhile. Haven't seen you around much lately. How have you been?" "Just great," the other man answered as he stepped up beside Teresa and looked down at her appraisingly. "Larry, this is Miss Teresa Davidson, and you're correct, she is indeed proving to be troublesome." "Hmmm," Larry said thoughtfully. "She's not bad looking. Nice breasts. Perhaps a little on the old side," he chuckled good naturedly. Then he added, "What's her story?" Without compunction, the tall Handler placed a hand on Teresa's right breast and began to manipulate its supple flesh. "Fuck you!" Teresa screeched in response. "Get your hand off of me, you filthy pervert!" she hissed while attempting to twist her torso away from his invasive touch. "Both mens' eyebrows went up in surprise. Then Larry chortled, "Oh, I see." He continued to fondle Teresa despite her protests. "Yeah," Scott sighed, unable to mask his growing frustration. "She was sent over from The Facility. From what I understand, one of their clients who's been spending some time with her wants to take her home, but she's caused so much trouble during her stay that he wanted her sent to us for some remedial training and preparation. Can't honestly say that I blame the man. She's been nothing but trouble since she arrived. I don't know what anyone would want with this one." Scott shook his head in perplexity. "Well," Larry offered after a brief pause. "Perhaps I can be of some assistance here." He stared down at the recalcitrant young woman in the Cooperation Seat. "You've got quite a reputation, young lady," he said to Teresa, then pinched her nipple quite hard. "Ow! You bastard!" Teresa yelped. She stared hotly up at the Handler named Larry who was a good bit older than either she or her younger tormentor. "Do you get your jollies by abusing helpless women like the rest of your animal friends?" she hissed with a distinct air of contempt. She was rewarded with another pinch. Ignoring the disrespectful teenager, Larry said to his younger coworker. "I've been away at school for the last month or so, finishing up my degree. I learned some interesting new techniques having to do with anal manipulation which might be pertinent here, and it appears that Miss Davidson could use some encouragement." Both men gazed down at Teresa for a minute, thinking. "So, what do you say?" Larry asked, holding his hands out toward Scott plaintively. "Sure, Larry," Scott replied gratefully. "If you have the time and don't mind. I could certainly use some help." "No problem at all, my friend," Larry said cheerfully. "Glad to help out. So what're you using for Presence at the moment?" "We put a size seven in her at her Double I," Scott informed the older man. "She was such a challenge, the Headmaster insisted that Alex CAP her early." Teresa looked from one odious man to the other while they discussed her like a side of beef. She couldn't believe this was happening. "Have you the authority to remove it?" Larry asked, referring to Teresa's anal appliance. "Sure do," Scott said. "OK, go ahead and clear her anal passage while I get set up," Larry instructed, holding up a kit that looked like a canvass tool roll. Then he turned and placed it on the small table nearby. "Hey, what're you... huhhh!" Teresa's query was cut short when Scott stooped and reached beneath the seat of the Cooperation Chair. By design, the young lady's rear end was easily accessible, so with a slow twisting motion, Scott withdrew the seven inch long CAP Device that had been a part of Teresa for the passed several hours. In spite of the distastefulness of the events leading up its placement inside of her, the teenager experienced a distinct feeling of emptiness and incompleteness following its removal, thanks in part to the wonder drug, Thelazine. Scott took the torpedo shaped device to the lab sink and cleaned it, then returned and placed it on the side table, ready for re-insertion later. Meanwhile, the older Handler, Larry, busied himself with his kit. He unrolled the canvass pouch revealing several smaller compartments. Each contained a tool or device of uncertain purpose. Scott looked on with great interest while his Associate prepared his instruments. "New stuff," Scott commented astutely. "You bet," Larry replied. Then he removed from the kit a stainless steel cylinder about ten inches in length and approximately the diameter of a "C" cell flashlight. When his partner held the device up for his inspection, Scott noted that its surface was knurled to afford the operator a better grip. Scott also noticed six small metal buttons near one end of the cylinder. "Here, feel the weight," Larry said, offering the instrument to his fellow Handler. We call it the Inter-Colonic Exciter; ICE for short. The device proved to be a bit heavier than Scott would have guessed as he studied the instrument more closely. One end of the cylinder was blunt and appeared to have a removable end cap, while the other tapered to a diameter of approximately one quarter inch. At the end of the taper was a shining steel sphere of perhaps twice that diameter. Scott turned the instrument over in his hand slowly, then he looked up at Larry. "What do the controls do?" he asked. "Press the top center button," Larry said. "Wow!" Scott commented appreciatively when the narrow end of the device began to silently elongate. Looking closer, Scott couldn't see any sign of a joint or seam where the quarter inch shaft slowly telescoped outward from within the larger diameter handle. "How long will it get?" he asked, releasing the button. In his hand he held the knurled handle of the device which before his eyes had sprouted an extrusion practically eighteen inches in length and a quarter of an inch in diameter. At its end was the shining sphere. "Pretty remarkable, huh?" Larry commented proudly. He had been selected out of a group of ten candidates in his class to test the new device in the field. "It's totally new technology. I see you noticed there's no visible junction between the handle and the wand." Scott nodded, looking closely at the device again. "Would you believe the wand will extend to almost three feet!" "Wow!" Scott responded in amazement. Meanwhile, Teresa sat staring at the ominous looking device with a rising sense of dread. "So what's it do?" Scott asked of his partner. "You're familiar with our Vaginal Micrometer, no doubt." Scott nodded to the affirmative. "This proto-type basically has similar stimulative functions to the VM, although the R&D boys haven't built in the measuring capabilities yet. They say they'll have that ready in the next model release. But for now, this little jewel will deliver a variety of interesting and useful sensations to areas of the female anatomy that were previously unreachable without surgery," Larry explained. The two men were silent for a moment as they gazed at the extraordinary instrument which Scott held. "One remarkable feature is that although the wand appears to be metallic, it is actually made of a highly advanced polymer compound. Here let me show you something." Larry took the unit from Scott, then holding it almost reverently, he pressed and held the top, left button. "Holy shit!" Scott exclaimed in a somewhat unprofessional manner. Before his eyes the eighteen inch wand started to bow in an almost lifelike fashion. Larry let the bending continue until the wand had achieved practically a ninety degree angle to the handle. Then upon releasing the control, the two men watched the wand return to its original linear configuration. "Another interesting thing about this polymer is that it's completely non-conductive," Larry said. When Scott gave him a curious look, he explained further. "All stimulative issuances are confined to the half inch sphere at the end of the wand. Nothing is transmitted down the surface of the shaft." "Ahh," Scott responded, immediately grasping the significance of what Larry described. "Rightttt," Larry said with a grin. "Because of this we are afforded enormous control over what part or parts of her we tingle." He grinned again. "And tingle it does. It'll do burst pulses of up to four hundred watt seconds, and it's harmonic resonance capabilities are greatly improved over those of the Vaginal Micrometer," Larry went on to explain. "It can do some really neat stuff," the older Handler said proudly. He pushed another button and retracted the wand into its handle then he said to Scott, "So let's see how your troublesome Miss Davidson responds to our new toy, shall we?" "You bet," Scott agreed enthusiastically. "There's a low stool over there, if you need it," the younger Handler said, pointing. Teresa had remained uncharacteristically silent all the while that Larry was describing his hideous new plaything, but when the man drew a small, padded stool up next to the Cooperation Seat and sat down with the ICE in hand, she could contain herself no longer. "You just wait a damn minute, you monster!" she threatened idly. Turning her head, Teresa glared at the older man. Quickly, though, she felt Scott's fingers on her chin. "Look at me, Miss Davidson and be silent," her Handler ordered. "We're going to continue with our little question and answer session now, and I expect for you to pay close attention to me." Unable to look away from Scott, Teresa didn't see the other Handler move his shining instrument beneath her. She suddenly parted her lips with a slight gasp, and her eyes became wide with concern when initially Teresa felt a cool pressure against her nether entrance. Scott watched her face closely, holding her by the chin and preventing her from looking away. When he saw her make one prolonged blink of her emerald green eyes, the young Handler knew that his fellow Associate was in. All that Teresa felt at first was a mildly increased sense of pressure followed by a tiny bit of stretching, then abruptly her anal sphincter dilated and admitted the small spherical end of the Inter-Colonic Exciter. That sense of conspicuous presence that accompanies the insertion of a CAP Device was not a factor when Larry extended his magic wand. In fact, Teresa would have been shocked to learn just how deeply she'd been penetrated by the time Scott asked his first question. "Getting back to your menstrual information, Miss Davidson," Scott said after clearing his throat to gain Teresa's attention. "Would you say that your customary flow is heavy or light?" He stared brazenly at the young woman. Teresa was quite confused and flustered by the recent goings on, and consequently answered haltingly before thinking. "I...I guess l...light," she replied. "Well... Medium, maybe." She felt herself flex around the thin shaft in her rear end. Due to its extraordinary design, it was impossible for Teresa to discern the actual depth to which the shining sphere had traveled under the expert guidance of the second Handler who sat silently beside her. "Good," Scott said. "Thank you, Miss Davidson. And at what age did you begin to menstruate?" Teresa was having a difficult time concentrating on her Handler's questions even though Larry held the ICE absolutely still. "I.. I.." she stammered. "I.. Twelve, I guess. No, eleven." she answered. "And do you normally use pads, tampons or both?" The questions came faster now. Teresa was somewhat dazed, but she replied none the less, "B..both, sometimes." Unwittingly, Teresa started to respond to the rather probing and personal questions almost reflexively. "Do you suffer from PMS?" When after a half a minute, the distracted teenager didn't answer, Scott asked again. "Miss Davidson, do you develop PMS symptoms or not?" He was most insistent. Knowing the girl was bewildered, Scott wanted to get as many answers out of her as possible before she regained her composure. Teresa shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. "No," she answered a bit more directly. The initial shock and apprehension of being subjected to insertion of the ICE was starting to wear off. "Do you ever experience vaginal discharge other than lubricating fluids resulting from arousal?" This question garnered a look of confused exasperation. "N..no, but..." "Very well. Are you receiving regular GYN checkups, Miss Davidson?" "I... yes... I... but why do you want..?" "Yes or no will do, Miss Davidson," Scott said interrupting her. She was coming around. "At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson, and to whom?" Scott watched the confusion on Teresa's face gradually turn to outrage, then to outright rage. The teenager sat for several moments, her mouth opening and closing in silence. Then at last she found her voice. In a low growl, she said, "That is none of your damn business!" On her face she wore an expression of unmitigated hostility. The first thing Teresa felt was an almost imperceptible motion deep inside of her. She remembered thinking that the supposedly wonderful new toy that these horrible men possessed wasn't going to do a damn thing to her. That was just before the pulse hit. The sensation was not unlike being kicked in the rib cage, at once knocking the wind out of her and filling her entire body with a thudding agony. Teresa thought she was going to black out. Then gradually, as the fog of pain that enshrouded her lifted, Teresa recognized a familiar voice asking, "At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson and to whom?" Unable to form coherent thoughts, Teresa sat stunned and shaking for several seconds before the question was put to her again. "Pay attention, Miss Davidson. Look at me and answer the question, please. Who did you lose your virginity to, and how old were you at the time?" All of Scott's questions were, of course, premeditated and designed expressly to erode the subject's sense of personal space and privacy. The shock value alone derived from the invasive interrogation was enough to keep the otherwise rather well composed young woman off balance and befuddled. At a nod from the young Handler, Larry obligingly thumbed the controls of the ICE. Inside the dark, moist reaches of Teresa's excretory system, the highly advanced polymer wand flexed. Bowing forward, the shrining exciter sphere pressed downward against the top of the teenager's uterus which is located directly above her urinary bladder. Taking Teresa by her chin, Scott forced her to gaze directly into his eyes. He intentionally treated her like an errant child as he repeated his question in a most patronizing tone of voice. "How old were you when you first had intercourse, Miss Davidson? It's a simple question, really." Teresa was gradually recovering from the deep routed blow to her person. The resulting waves of nausea slowly subsided, and she regained a small degree of composure. With that composure came a greater comprehension of her situation. With that comprehension, Teresa's inherent self-righteous indignation returned in spades. "How dare he ask such a question!" her irate thoughts screamed. "Why he's nothing more than a demented child! These filthy, cretinous thugs won't get anything more out of me!" she vowed silently. Teresa couldn't have been more wrong. Scott, having seen these exact same signs of wilfulness in other Guests Teresa's age, or perhaps slightly younger, was well prepared for such an eventuality. Nodding again to his assistant, Scott watched the pretty girl's facial expressions begin to change. First came the raised eyebrows and the look of surprise. Then as the harmonic resonance emitted by the shining exciter sphere gradually increased, and the muscles responsible for bladder control began to fibrillate, Teresa's face reflected growing concern. It was when the warm urine began to trickle between her buttocks, that the stubborn teenager really began to exhibit those unmistakable signs of alarm. "Wait... Nnnno...," she whined, seeing Scott's knowing smirk, but try as she might, she could do nothing to stem the rapidly increasing flow. Reaching between Teresa's legs, her Handler casually cupped her full vulva in his hand. "This would go much quicker and easier if you would cooperate, Miss Davidson," Scott explained patiently as he allowed his hand to fill with the warm and pungent liquid. "I ask only that you answer my questions," the young Handler continued. Then to Teresa's utter disgust and dismay, he raised his cupped hand from between her thighs and poured its brimming warm contents onto her belly. Teresa shuddered as the cooling urine flowed across her tummy, filling her navel, then trickling downward on either side of her slim waist. It had been several hours since Teresa'd last visited the bathroom, so her urine continued to flow, making a spattering sound on the tile floor. "We can make this examination very unpleasant for you, little lady," Larry said from his seat beside Teresa's right shoulder. To drive home his point, the older man twisted the handle of the ICE device, causing Teresa to groan in response when the elongated probe shifted position deep in her bowel. It felt like the thing was pushing against the back side of her belly button. It was a most invasive and uncomfortable sensation indeed. "How old were you, Miss Davidson, when you took your first lover?" Scott asked calmly. After returning his hand to Teresa's most private flesh, he slowly rubbed her, spreading her urine over her soft skin until she was through. Teresa was mortified. This was by far the most degrading thing these monstrous men had done to her thus far, and as a result, she began to re-think her strategy of outright defiance. A moment of silence... "I was fourteen and a half," the headstrong teenager murmured almost inaudibly. "I beg your pardon," Scott responded instantly. He wanted his willful charge to repeat her confession. "I said, I was almost fifteen," Teresa replied in a miffed tone of voice. "That's a bit early, isn't it, young lady?" Larry chimed in. Teresa reddened noticeably but said nothing. "And with whom did you have intercourse your first time, Miss Davidson?" Scott immediately inquired, wishing to capitalize on Teresa's momentary affability. "Oh, God!" she thought miserably. Teresa had sincerely hoped that this one particular secret would go with her to her grave, but this was not to be. "I... It... It was," Teresa began. Her expression of nervous embarrassment was unmistakable. "Go on, young lady," Larry prompted. He moved the ICE ever so slightly in Teresa's rear end as encouragement. Scott immediately shot the older man a glance that, in no uncertain terms said, "I'll thank you not to intervene unless asked." Larry nodded his understanding with a sheepish grin. "Answer the question, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered. With a pained and crushed look upon her pretty face, Teresa replied at last. "It was my boyfriend's dad." "That explains her predilection for older men," Scott surmised. "And what led up to this relationship, Miss Davidson?" the young Handler asked, knowing full well this was a topic that the girl would prefer not to discuss. After a prolonged period of strained silence, Teresa began to tell her tale. What she would divulge to the two complete strangers was the truth about a part of her life of which she was the least proud. It was, until this moment, Teresa Davidson's darkest and most carefully guarded secret. Continued... -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+