textfiles/sex/EROTICA/P/parker21.txt

                      TEACHER'S RANSOM 2/3
                            By Parker

     Marion awoke the next morning, stiff and sore.
     And hating herself.
     Hating the way she had crawled and whimpered and begged the
previous day; hating the way she had taken Jimmy's massive cock
into her mouth with barely a word or gesture of protest; hating
the way she had come like some kind of whorish pain-slut, choking
and gurgling on his hot jism.
     Most of all, though, she hated herself for the collar.
     The collar.
     At Angela's instructions, Jimmy had led the crying school
teacher back into the garage where she had first been taken out
of the van. His hand tight around her wrist, he dragged her
around behind the parked van and over to an area which was
enclosed with a heavy chain link fence. It seemed to be a kennel
of some sort, although unoccupied at present. The enclosure was
empty except for some old blankets bunched up in a corner. He had
pulled open the door and shoved her inside, laughing as she
stumbled on the uneven cement.
     "There y'go, bitch," he sneered. "Home sweet home." Marion
tried not to react, turning away and putting her hands over her
naked breasts. He just grabbed a handful of blonde hair and spun
her around. "None of that," he grinned. "I don't want ya here,
but if Miss Bates wants you..." He shrugged, staring at her tits.
"Well, I don't gotta like it, but..." He seemed about to say
something, but then fell silent.
     He looked around the kennel for a moment and his eyes lit on
a brown leather collar - the collar - hanging from a peg. Letting
out a small grunt, he picked it up and fastened it around his
captive's slender neck. Marion trembled with humiliation and
anger, but didn't fight it. Once it was buckled on, he pulled
down a short length of chain and clipped it to a D-ring on the
collar. "C'mon Darling," he taunted, pushing down on her
shoulders, "down you go." Flushing a deep red, the blonde woman
obeyed, sinking to her knees in front of him. Grinning, Jimmy
fastened the other end of the chain to a low rung on the chain
link fence. He gave it a sharp tug and then straightened. "That
better be there in the morning," he warned. With a grin and a
final quick look at her tits, he turned and walked out of the
kennel. The door, part of the chain link fence, swung shut and he
locked it.
     "Sweet dreams," he called as he walked out of the garage. As
he left, Marion looked down at the collar and chain. Neither were
locked on: the collar was fastened with a simple buckle and the
chain with a clip. Her hands were free; she could remove both
with ease...
     The garage light went out, leaving her in total darkness.
     So she used her fingers, tracing first the outline of the
collar buckle and then the cold, hard links of the chain down to
the simple clip attaching her neck to the fence. Even in the
total darkness of the garage, it would be easy - *easy* - to undo
and unfasten herself, to free herself at least to some small
degree, from this humiliating bondage.
     But: "...better be there in the morning..."

     Morning found the blonde school teacher curled up in the two
blankets, body aching from a night spent on the unforgiving
cement floor, and the collar, still buckled to her neck and still
attached to the chain.
     Marion awoke hating herself.
     "Well," came Angela's amused voice, "is our little pet
awake?"
     The blonde school teacher started and looked up from where
she lay crouched on the cement floor of her kennel. The redhead
was standing just outside the chain link fence, smiling nastily.
Marion opened her mouth to say something angry, but quickly
thought better of it. Angela held the cane. Instead, she gave the
only answer she could: "yes mistress."
     Angela smiled and made a small gesture. One of the men who
had been in the van the day before walked forward with two
brightly coloured bowls: dog dishes. With a grin, he bent down
and slid them under a small opening at the bottom of the fence.
"We're too busy to play with you today," the redhead explained as
the man straightened up and left the garage. "You'll have to
entertain yourself."
     "Yes mistress."
     With a quiet laugh, Angela turned and left the garage.
     One of the dishes had contained something that appeared to
be stew (although Marion feared that it was really dog food) and
the other, larger dish, was full of water. The blonde teacher had
immediately sucked down half the water, but hadn't touched the
food. She just wasn't that hungry.
     Yet.
     Marion spent a little while examining her surroundings. The
kennel itself was about eight feet long and four feet wide,
enclosed on three sides by chain link and the fourth side by the
concrete back wall of the garage. Her collar chain was only a
couple of feet long and was attached to the bottom of the fence,
so she was unable to stand. The low opening through which the dog
dishes had been slid was almost directly beneath the link where
her chain was clipped. Other than the ratty old blankets that had
been lying against the back wall and, or course, the dog dishes,
the kennel was bare. The rest of the garage was scarcely more
interesting. From her position on her hands and knees, Marion
could see the black van and another car parked side by side. The
garage light, however, was directly above the kennel, so the rest
of the garage that she could see was shrouded in shadow.
     Fighting back a sob, the blonde woman looked down at the
chain which fastened her collar-bound neck to the chain link
fence. She longed to unclip it - to stand up and take a good look
around - but she didn't dare. She just lay back down on one of
the blankets and stared upwards at the ceiling.

     Time passed...
     She had no way of telling how much time had passed when she
finally gave in and ate the cold stew. It tasted about as good as
it looked, and she finished the remaining water just to get the
taste out of her mouth again.
     Nothing had changed.

     Time passed...
     Marion was almost going out of her mind with a strange
mixture of boredom and fear. Her body ached with the remembrance
of the abuse it had suffered the day before, and she found it
almost impossible to get comfortable on the cement floor. Near
tears, her neck still surrounded by the collar, she twisted and
turned in a vain attempt to find a tolerable position. No matter
how she lay, however, the unforgiving concrete combined with the
dull yet insistent ache and the sheer boredom frustrated her
efforts. Once, she even found herself unconsciously sliding her
finger up and down the outside of her pussy. The slight feeling
of pleasure was quickly swallowed up by an almost overwhelming
sense of humiliation and she jerked her hand away, her eyes
darting around the garage in case someone was watching.
     No one was.
     Sighing, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a daze
that was half sleep and half boredom.

     Time passed...
     She opened her eyes, suddenly aware of an uncomfortable
pressure on her bladder. Drawing an unsteady breath, she sat up,
her neck chain clinking as it was dragged along the cement. The
garage was still empty and quiet; nothing had changed except...
     The water dish was full again.
     And someone had spread newspaper over the floor in a corner
of her kennel.

     Time passed...
     Marion had been crouching bent over for some time now,
trying somehow to relieve the pressure on her bladder, but it was
becoming too much. She had to pee.
     Slowly, she got up on all fours. Again she considered
undoing the collar or chain and again she decided against it. Too
dangerous. With a quick look around to make certain the garage
was empty, she got to her hands and knees and stretched her body
so that her lower body was over the newspaper. The collar kept
her neck and head near the centre of the kennel, so she had to
extend herself to reach it. She tried to find some way to crouch,
but it just wasn't possible, stretched out as she was. So, with a
quiet sob of humiliation, the captive school teacher raised one
leg up against the fence and let loose with a stream of piss. It
seemed, to the mortified woman, to take forever, spraying out and
splattering all over the newspaper and her leg, but at last the
flow stopped. Marion shuddered as the final drips slid down her
inner thigh.
     "I see our pet is housebroken."
     "Nooo..."
     The blonde school teacher let out a quiet moan of futile
denial as she realized that her actions had been watched. A quick
glance confirmed it; Angela and Jimmy were standing just outside
the fence, watching... smirking... Dragging her chain behind her,
Marion turned away and scrambled to the back of her kennel,
trying desperately to find some place to hide.
     Her captors just laughed. "See you tomorrow," Angela called
out. Marion looked up just as the lights went out and the garage
door closed. The blonde woman curled herself into a ball and
began to sob as the piss smell slowly pervaded the kennel.

                              *****

     "Up you come!"
     Marion was jerked out of a deep, dreamless sleep by a rough
voice and a sharp tug on her leash. Dazed, the blonde woman
scrambled to her feet and stumbled along behind Jimmy as he
released her from her kennel, led her across the garage and back
into the house. She followed him down the short hallway and
into...
     "Miss Seward!"
     Sheila!
     Marion stopped walking and looked to her left through a half
open door. It was Sheila; the dark-haired girl was lying,
dishevelled and half-naked on a bare mattress in what appeared to
be a small bedroom. The teenager's eyes were red like she'd been
crying and she sported a large bruise on her left cheek. She was
handcuffed to the bed frame.
     Marion started to say something, but was suddenly pulled
away by her leash. "C'mon, 'Darling'" Jimmy growled, emphasizing
the name. "The little slut's none of your business. Angela wants
you." The blonde school teacher resisted for a brief moment, her
urge to help the younger girl warring with her fear of
punishment, but then gave in and followed the man down the hall.
The threat of the cane was just too potent; her ass was still
burning from the beating she had been given two days earlier.
     Jimmy came to a halt in front of an open door. It was a
bathroom. "Clean yourself up and get dressed," he ordered,
unclipping the leash and shoving her inside. "You got thirty
minutes; anything over that's a stroke minute. Got it?"
     A stroke a minute!
     Marion nodded. "Yes." And then, face burning: "...m-mister
Jimmy."
     The man grinned and then pulled the door shut.
     Alone in the bathroom, the kidnapped woman examined her
reflection. Her curly blonde hair was limp and greasy; one long
clump was matted to her forehead with dried sweat and cum. Her
face was dirty and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. The
remnants of her last meal, eaten from the dog dish, were smeared
on each side of her mouth, giving her the slightly ridiculous
appearance of a child who had tried to take too big a bite. Parts
of her naked body were red and raw, and, as she turned around to
look over her shoulder, she saw that her ass was striped red and
blue where it had been beaten a couple days earlier. Gingerly,
she rubbed her hand over it, wincing at the...
     "Five minutes gone, bitch," Jimmy yelled through the door.
"Better get to it." Startled from her self-contemplation, Marion
scampered over to the shower and reached for the nob.
     A stroke a minute.

     Marion only had time to spare a quick glance at herself
before almost running from the bathroom. Her hair, although damp,
was clean and shiny again. The makeup hadn't taken long to apply
- she wore very little - but it had worked wonders for her
appearance, almost hiding the strain of fear on her face. She
still wore the collar, of course, but her captors had laid out
additional clothing: stocking and garter; corset and push-up bra;
and five inch pumps. Half-panicked at thought of running over the
half hour, she walked out of the bathroom as quickly as she was
able on the heels.
     Not, as it turned out, quickly enough.
     "Six minutes over," Jimmy announced, grinning at her as she
hustled out. "That's six hard ones."
     Marion felt her lower lip trembling at the thought being
caned again. "P-please..."
     Jimmy ignored her. "C'mon," he interrupted, turning and
walking down the hall. Near tears, the blonde woman followed
behind. Her legs trembled with fear as he led her into the room
where she had been forced to suck him two days earlier. Where she
had come like, thrashing and screaming like a whore, with his cum
in her mouth...
     "Stay," Jimmy ordered, dropping the chain leash. Marion
stopped walking and stood in the middle of the room while he
walked away, passing from view through a door.
     Alone, the captive blonde looked fearfully about the empty
room. Her gaze fell almost immediately on the riding crop which
had been used on her two days earlier. It sat on the low counter
beside a wall, exactly where it had been when Angela had first
taken it up. Trembling, she looked around the room. No one was
there; maybe she could...
     "Hey." Startled, she turned to see one of the other men walk
towards her. "What's the matter, honey? Did they leave you all
alone?"
     "Uhmm... y-yes..." Marion wasn't sure how to address the
man, so settled for the neutral "...sir."
     The man grinned. "Well, ain't that just too bad. An' I hear
you're quite the little cocksucker too. You are, aren't you?"
     The blonde woman felt herself blushing, but nodded her head.
"Yes sir," she whispered. "I'm a good... good c-cocksucker."
     The man was standing directly in front of her. "Well, let's
have a little, then." He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed
downward. Marion's stomach heaved at the thought of touching and
sucking the man's cock, but her fear of the riding crop overcame
all else. Sniffling, she undid his zipper and slipped his rapidly
hardening cock from his pants. With a quiet moan, she began to
lick it and, once it was hard, she accepted it into her mouth.
She began running her lips up and down the cockshaft, fucking him
with her face.
     She had been working for about five minutes when she heard
the door open behind her. "At it again, are you?" It was Angela.
She sounded amused. "Such an eager little cocksucker."
     Marion stopped moving when she heard the redhead speak.
Frozen with humiliation, she knelt there in front of the man, his
cock resting heavily on her tongue. The man laughed; his cock
twitched and the blonde woman tasted pre-cum. Marion started to
pull away, but a hand at the back of her head prevented her.
"Don't stop on my account, Darling," Angela whispered, her lips
brushing up against Marion's ear. "I know how much you like the
taste of cum." The blonde school teacher moaned as she felt the
other woman's fingers on her pussy. "You finish up what you're
doing." The woman's fingers started moving gently over Marion's
clit as her tongue flicked out and licked an earlobe. "I don't
mind; I can wait."
     Marion gurgled a futile refusal around the man's prick, but
quickly resumed bobbing her head up and down. She went deeper,
swallowing more and more of the man's prick until it was sheathed
in her throat, and her face was buried in his smelly crotch hair.
     THWACK!
     "Mmmmmm!!!" Marion let out a muffled scream as the cane
struck her ass.
     "Now Darling," Angela admonished, still working her finger
along her captive's pussy lips. "You know you earned six strokes
for being too long in the bathroom. I've decided to let Jimmy
administer them."
     THWACK!
     "Mnngghh!!!" Marion tried to pull her head away, but was
again prevented by Angela's hand.
     "Stop it!" Angela ordered. "Don't make it worse on yourself.
Just focus on what you're doing."
     THWACK!!!
     Marion's ass was on fire from the caning, but she continued
on with the blowjob, certain that things would only get worse if
she disobeyed. The cane struck her four more times as she sucked
desperately at the man's cock. At last, the man let out a quiet
moan and his cock started to twitch. He was coming. Just as he
did so, Angela grasped Marion's curly blonde hair and jerked her
face back, causing the cock to slide out of her throat and rest
only a couple inches in her mouth. Marion felt Angela's lips at
her ear again: "Don't swallow," the redhead hissed. "Keep the cum
in your mouth."
     Obediently, Marion took the man's cum in her mouth, but
didn't swallow. The blonde woman fought down a wave of bile and
disgust as the man's cock exploded, spewing wave after wave of
hot, sticky cum onto her tongue. It filled her mouth completely;
her cheeks were bulging with it before he finally pulled away. A
trickle escaped and dribbled down her cheeks before she could
close her lips. Laughing, Angela scraped it up with a long,
brightly painted fingernail and smeared it on Marion's upper lip,
just under her nostril. The smell made the blonde woman want to
vomit, but she kept control of her stomach.
     "Up you come." Keeping a firm grip in her captive's hair,
Angela dragged the woman to her feet and pulled her along to the
desk which sat in a corner of the room. The redhead took the
chair and then looked up at Marion. "C'mon, Darling," she said,
patting her lap. "Have a seat." Marion's eyes blurred with tears
at this new humiliation, but she obeyed. Gingerly, trying not to
irritate her aching ass, she sat down on the other woman's lap,
facing outward. Angela turned so that they were facing the desk.
The redhead's hand snaked around her captive's body. One hand
dipped down and resumed work on the woman's pussy while the other
fondled and teased Marion's breasts. The blonde woman moaned
through her cum-filled mouth, squirming helplessly on the other
woman's lap as Jimmy and the man she whose cum filled her mouth
leered from across the room.
     "Now listen, Darling," Angela said. "We still have that
problem I mentioned to you a couple of days ago. We wanted
Sheila, not you. As I said, Jimmy doesn't like loose ends, but
I've convinced him that there are more than one way to tie up
loose ends. Are you with me so far?"
     Marion moaned, but nodded. A trickle of cum escaped from
between her lips and dribbled down her chin.
     "Good." Angela slipped a couple of fingers into the other
woman's pussy and began sliding them in and out. "Now, Jimmy and
I have talked this over, and we've come up with a plan; a way of
minimizing the danger to us while allowing us not to... well, not
to use drastic measures. I'm sure you'll agree that that's in
your interests."
     Again, Marion nodded.
     "So," Angela continued, "there's a letter." The hand that
had been fondling Marion's breasts reached over onto the desk and
pulled a piece of paper in front of the captive blonde. "We want
you to write it out in your own hand writing and sign it. That'll
give us some time to finish our business with the rich bitch in
the other room."
     Marion looked down and read the letter. It was from her to
Donald, her husband. It went on about how she felt stifled in the
marriage; about how she had married too young and needed to be
with other men; about how she had already had a number of lovers,
including many of her students; about how she needed her freedom.
The blonde woman began to sob as she finished the letter. Surely
Donald wouldn't believe it; he knew her too well. But...
     Jimmy placed a pen and paper in front of her.
     "Well?" Angela brought her hand up to tweak one of Marion's
nipples. "Are you going to write it, or..."
     She left the rest of the sentence unspoken. There was no
need to say any more; Marion knew exactly what would happen if
she didn't do what they wanted: she was a loose end, and Jimmy
would tie her up.
     Crying silently, the tears trickling down her face to mingle
with the cum tricking from between her lips, she picked up the
pen and started to write, transcribing the typewritten letter
into her own handwriting. While she wrote, Angela continued to
manipulate her pussy and breasts. Against her will, Marion felt
her body begin to respond. By the time she signed the letter, she
was almost writhing on the redhead's lap, humping her sopping
pussy up and down on the other woman's invading fingers.
     "Mmmmm..."
     She was coming!
     "Now swallow!" Angela ordered. Marion stiffened and moaned
as an orgasm crashed over her body. Gurgling cum and saliva, she
let out a cry and let the sperm slide down her throat. Some of it
went down her windpipe, and she began to cough and gag, spitting
cum all over herself. Laughing, Angela pushed her off her lap and
onto the floor as Marion sputtered and gagged on the cum, huge
wads of it going up her nostrils. Finally, she got herself under
control.
     Angela read the letter over, smiling to herself, and then
handed it to one of the men. "Take care of it," she told him. The
man nodded and left the room. The redhead turned back to her
prisoner who remained kneeling on the floor, her lower face
glistening with cum. Still smiling, she walked over to the couch
and sat down.
     "Come here," she called, patting her lap.
     The blonde school teacher shuddered with humiliation, but
didn't hesitate. Trailing her chain leash behind her, she crawled
over to where her mistress sat. She had a sick feeling in her
stomach; she knew what was coming next. Sure enough, as the
blonde woman approached on her hands and knees, Angela spread her
legs and hiked her leather skirt.
     She wasn't wearing any panties.
      "I think," the redhead smirked, spreading her bare legs,
"you know what to do."
     Marion stopped crawling; she'd known what was going to
happen, but... she couldn't. She just couldn't. "No," she
whispered, backing away. "Oh no, please..."
     She knew immediately from the look on Angela's face that
she'd made a mistake. They'd been waiting for it all morning.
Waiting for her to make a mistake; to refuse to obey.
     "Over the couch," Angela snapped, pushing her skirt back
down over her legs. She walked across the room towards the cane.
     "No, please, I didn't... I didn't mean to..."
     "That's four strokes, you stupid bitch," Jimmy called out
from across the room. "It'll be eight if you don't get the fuck
over the couch and start begging!"
     Half mad with panic, Marion scrambled to her feet and ran
towards the room to the couch, her slender body trembling as she
ran. Reaching it, she almost threw her body over it, placing her
hands on the cushions and exposing her ass to the cane.
     Waiting.
     Angela walked slowly over, tapping the cane on her thigh.
"Now, Darling," she drawled, "what did you do wrong?"
     "I... I said... 'no'." Marion felt her tears dripping down
her face and onto the floor as the redhead approached. "Darling
said 'no'."
     "That's correct," Angela agreed. She reached Marion's side
and began rubbing the cane up and down her prisoner's trembling
thigh. "And there's something else you forgot."
     Marion fought down the panic. What was it... Oh. "D-Darling
forgot to say m-mistress. Mistress."
     Angela nodded and smiled. "That's correct. Now, I'm sure you
remember what I said a couple of days ago. You have a choice:
admit you were bad and beg for correction, or you'll get it twice
as bad."
     The blonde woman trembled in fear and shame, but she knew
what was expected of her. And she had no choice. "P-please
mistress," she whined, "please beat me. I've been bad."
     "Beat who?"
     "Darling," Marion called out, burying her face in the back
of the couch. "Beat Darling. Darling was bad."
     "Very good dear," Angela told her. "I'm so pleased you
remembered your new name. You're still going to be beaten, of
course, but I should give you a little reward. Would you like
that?"
     "Y-yes mistress."
     "Fine." The redhead pulled the cane away from the other
woman's exposed ass. "As a reward, you can play with yourself
while receiving your punishment. Isn't that kind of me?"
     Marion sobbed, but knew she had no choice but to agree. "Yes
mistress."
     "Well, then, get to it."
     Still sobbing, the blonde school teacher reached back
between her legs and started running her finger up and down over
her pussy. If possible, her face turned even redder as Angela
bent down to watch for a second and then straightened up.
     "Very good," Angela said. "You've obviously had a lot of
practice, haven't you?"
     "Yes mistress." There was silence for a moment. "I've...
Darling's had lot's of practice playing with my... herself."
     "You must really enjoy it, don't you?"
     "Yes mistress. Darling really enjoy playing with herself."
     Angela smirked. "I guess your husband doesn't do much for
you then, does he."
     Marion felt a thrill of horror shoot through her body.
Donald! He must be worried sick about her. And that note! Would
he believe...
     THWACK!
     "Ahhhh..."
     Marion took her hand away from her pussy and brought it up
to protect her ass as it writhed in pain. Angela just looked down
with a smirk on her face. "You know the rules, Darling. That one
didn't count." Marion let out a loud sob. "Now get your hand back
to your pussy. Count the strokes and thank me for them." Her tear
stained face hid by a curtain of blonde hair, the school teacher
obeyed. She dropped her hand back to her pussy and began playing
with it again.
     THWACK!
     "Uurrhhh... that's one, m-mistress. Thank you mistress."
     THWACK!
     "Ahhh... that's two mistress." Marion's long legs kicked and
shook beneath her, but she stayed in position over the back of
the couch. "Thank you mistress." To her horror, she felt a
tingling in her loins as her fingers moved in a blur over her
pussy. Spasms of deep, wicked pleasure emanated out from her
crotch.
     THWACK!
     "Thank you mistress... thank you mistress..." The pain was
overwhelming. Marion stopped thinking and just screamed out her
submission, again and again ("... thank you mistress...") while
her fingers dug away at her pussy. In her thrashing, she didn't
notice that her hand was now wet with pussy juice, or that the
feeling of pleasure and lust from her pussy were pulsing through
her body.
     THWACK!
     "Ahhhh..." Marion bounced and writhed on the couch as the
fourth stroke exploded onto her already bruised ass. "Thank you
mistress... thank you mistress... oh, please beat Darling... p-
please... thank you..." She babbled in incoherent lust, trembling
in insane excitement as she drove one, then two and, finally,
three fingers in and out of her sopping pussy with wild abandon.
"Please hit Darling again!" she cried, writhing on the couch.
     With a laugh, Angela began beating her again and again until
the pain merged with the pleasure and her body exploded into a
violent orgasm. Still babbling her thanks, the blonde school
teacher fell sideways off the back of the couch and fell to the
floor, spasming and twitching in orgasm. It seemed to last
forever, but the pleasure finally faded away into pain and Marion
came to her senses, lying in a pool of sweat and pussy juice.
When she realized what had happened, how she had degraded herself
in front of her captors, she began to cry.
     When her sobs subsided, she opened her eyes and looked
around. Angela was back sitting on the couch, legs spread under
her short skirt.
     She wasn't wearing any panties.
     "Well?" Jimmy asked. He was holding the cane now. "Ready to
obey?"
     Mutely, Marion nodded.
     "Well then, crawl on over here, Darling," Angela called. "My
cunt's lonely for your face."
     Moaning with horror, Marion crawled across the room towards
the couch where the redhead was waiting. When she reached her
objective, she stopped crawling and knelt, awaiting the next
order. It wasn't long in coming. Grinning, Angela pulled her
short skirt up to her waist and spread her legs even further.
     "Suck it."
     Three days earlier - a lifetime ago - Marion would rather
have died than touched another woman's pussy, much less kiss and
suck it. But things were different now, and this was a different
Marion. A different life. This Marion was just thankful that she
wasn't being beaten. With a moan of helpless submission, the
blonde school teacher dropped her tear-stained face in between
her mistress's wide open thighs and brought her trembling lips
down onto the waiting pussy. As Marion's lips touched her pussy,
the redhead gave a groan of lust and lurched forward on the
couch. She brought her hand up behind her captive's head and
forced the blonde's mouth even harder into her sopping pussy.
     "Oh, that's right, Darling," she gasped, grinding her hips.
"Suck it... like a good girl... there's a girl..."
     Marion groaned helplessly into the soaking pussy of her
mistress, but she forced herself to keep sucking. The musky scent
of Angela's pussy was ground into her face and up her nostrils as
she sucked and moaned and licked at the slippery pussy-flesh like
a pig rooting for truffles. Angela gave another groan. The
redhead jerked and writhed on the couch, obviously enjoying the
efforts of Marion's captive tongue.
     "Spread your legs," Jimmy ordered from behind her, [THWACK!]
suddenly bringing the cane down on her ass. Marion jerked forward
and screamed into Angela's pussy, but did as she was told, moving
her knees apart on the floor so that her pussy was exposed. "OK,
Darling," he continued, again bringing the cane down [THWACK!].
"That's a good girl. Now, beg me to fuck you."
     Marion felt her stomach heave, but didn't dare disobey.
"Please, Mr Jimmy," she half-screamed into Angela's drooling
pussy, "please fuck m-me. Fuck Darling." Frightened, she placed
her trembling hands on the couch beside Angela's thighs and
braced herself.
     "Well, since you ask so nicely..." Marion felt the head of
Jimmy's cock rub up and down against the outside of her spread
pussy lips. "I'll just have to oblige you." Marion gave a gasp of
pain and shuddered as he pushed his rigid cock forward, burying
it to the hilt in her quivering pussy with one long, slow thrust.
Fortunately, she was still sopping wet from her previous orgasms,
so the pain from this new invasion was minimal.
     Still... the blonde school teacher squirmed and mewled in
futile protest, sucking harder on Angela's pussy and running her
tongue over her mistress's clit. The redhead groaned and
tightened her grip on Marion's hair, forcing the woman's juice-
soaked face to push harder and harder up against her pussy.
     Laughing in sadistic pleasure, Jimmy slowly drew his cock
back until only the cockhead remained inside and then rammed it
back in to the hilt. Marion wriggled and screamed with pain as he
began to pump his cock back and forth, in and out... Sobbing, the
blonde worked desperately at Angela's steaming pussy, biting,
nibbling, sucking... doing everything she could to please her
mistress.
     Anything to bring an end to it.
     "Ohhh, yes... that's it, Darling you little whore... you
little cunt-hound..."
     Marion felt a wave of humiliation sweep over her at those
words, but at the same time a strange feeling of... almost
satisfaction; satisfaction at pleasing her mistress. And,
possibly, avoiding a caning. At the same time, Jimmy's cock was
starting to have an effect on her overworked pussy; against her
will, it began to spasm and twitch, clutching hopelessly the
invading cock meat.
     "Mmmmm..."
     Things began to spin for the helpless school teacher; her
pussy was throbbing and spasming with lust as Jimmy rammed
himself in balls-deep, sinking his long, hard cock to the hilt in
her warm, tight pussy. He pulled back and then slammed it in
again and again, repeatedly filling her pussy with his cock-shaft
and stoking the fires of lust in the captive blonde. Marion
moaned and sucked, feeling her pussy throb under his assault. His
balls slapped up against her clit as he once again thrust deep
inside her, sending a trembling wave of lustful pleasure through
her battered, captive body.
       "You fucking little whore," he gloated, watching her pussy
thrust back on his cock, "I know what you want." He pulled back
until only the tip of his cock was inside her and then brought
his hand down hard against the side of her ass. Marion lurched
forward and screamed as a fresh wave of agony surged out from her
already bruised ass, momentarily pulling back but then bringing
her mouth back down against Angela's pussy as the redhead tugged
painfully on her hair.
     "You wanna rub your cunt, don't you?" He slapped her again
and then fucked his cock back into her quivering pussy.
     Marion sobbed as she jerked and shuddered under his assault.
She knew she had to agree. "Yes," she wailed, pulling back
slightly from Angela's pussy, "Darling wants to play with her c-
cunt." With a thrill of horror, she realized that she was telling
the truth; her throbbing clit itched for her fingers.
     "Then do it," he ordered, again bringing his hand down hard
against her ass.
     "Ahhh... yes, mister Jimmy!" Marion screamed, sliding a hand
down between her legs and feeling for her pussy. "Yes mister
Jimmy."
     Jimmy laughed and continued fucking her with long, hard
strokes. His balls slapped into Marion's fingers as her fingers
moved in a blur over her clit, stoking the sparks lust generated
by his cock. Quickly, her lust burst into flame. Overwhelmed with
sensation, she began to suck even harder, biting and chewing at
Angela's slippery pussy-flesh with new energy, sucking the
redhead's clit into her mouth and lathering it with her tongue.
At the same time, her fingers dug away at her own pussy, scraping
and rubbing as she felt Jimmy's cock working in and out of her
drooling flesh. The blonde woman began to lose control completely
as Jimmy began spanking her faster and faster, bringing his hands
down hard on each side of her quivering ass. Her consciousness
was lost in a haze of lust and pain and humiliation as the cock
fucked deeper and deeper and Angela's pussy writhed, hot and wet,
in her face. Without realizing what she was doing, she began to
scream in time with Jimmy's thrusts, her cries transformed into
choked gurgles on Angela's pussy juice. Her reddened ass bucked
and twitched as the man's cock churned away at the pussy juices
inside her drooling cunt.
     "Oh yes, you little cunt... bite me, make me come you
fucking whore... cunt-hound..." Angela began to lurch up off the
couch, ramming her soaked cunt-flesh into the blonde's open
mouth. "Make me come... make me come.... Nnnnggghhh...." With a
loud cry, the redhead exploded into orgasm, her fingers
tightening in Marion's hair and pulling the blonde's face even
further into the steaming, heaving pit of her cunt. Her thighs
squeezed together, crushing Marion's head between them.
     As the redhead came on the couch, Marion's fingers worked
harder and harder on her own sopping clit as her pussy spasmed
and jerked around Jimmy's driving cock. The pain from the
spanking was great, but it blended into and was washed away by
the raging torrent of lust emanating from her crotch and sweeping
up over her body. She couldn't help herself; she dug her fingers
even deeper, sliding two of them into her cunt along with Jimmy's
cock. Whining with desperate lust, she even brought her other
hand down to work her clit while she finger fucked herself with
her other hand.
     It was too much for Jimmy.
     "Fuck," he groaned, "I'm coming."
     He lost all control, slamming his cock in and out of
Marion's pussy as hard and fast as he could, not even noticing
that he was sharing it with three of her fingers.
     "Arghhh..." Angela groaned and twisted on the couch,
quivering with lust as she came a second time. "Bite me, you
little cunt... bitch..."
     Marion screamed as her fingers moved in a frantic blur over
her clit, her pussy drooling and spasming as it was
simultaneously fucked by Jimmy's cock and her own fingers. Her
pussy tightened on his rigid pole and a feeling she had never
known before exploded out from her pussy. It churned deep,
building on the lust and the pain, and then surged through her
body, bursting like a bomb out of her pussy. Her scream erupted
into Angela's pussy as she stiffened and exploded into climax.
     "Fuck," Jimmy bellowed from behind her, holding on for all
he was worth, "I'm coming!" He gripped the sides of Marion's
bucking, reddened ass and jerked her backward, impaling her pussy
as deeply as possible on his cock as he shot ropes of thick,
white sperm into her from behind.
     "Suck, bitch!"
     Angela cuffed the side of Marion's head as she prepared to
cum a third time. The extra pain set off a series of explosive
climaxes in the screaming blonde, each one sending her higher and
higher as she was bucking and heaving on Jimmy's impaling cock.
Still screaming, Marion rammed her open mouth into Angela's
swamping pussy, sucking and biting and licking for all she was
worth. The redhead bounced her pussy up off the couch, slamming
it into Marion's captive mouth as her third orgasm ripped through
her body. "Fuuuuuuuck..."
     All three participants stiffened in simultaneous orgasm.
     Finally done, the redhead dropped back to the couch,
twitching as the orgasm aftershocks rolled through her body. Her
mouth suddenly free of her mistress's demanding pussy, Marion
gasped for breath as she felt Jimmy give a final thrust with his
cock and then pull back. It slid free of her sopping, overheated
cunt, leaving a trail of cum and pussy juice down the inside of
her thigh. Marion's body gave a final shudder as the last trace
of orgasm seeped away. The blonde fell back and lay on the floor,
moaning and weeping, and wondering what had come over her;
wondering how it could possibly have happened. And, despite all
the humiliation, the degradation and the shame, she wondered why
that awful, demanding spark of lust still remained within her.
     With a degrading moan of lust, she reached down and began to
rub her pussy.

                          END PART TWO

                      TEACHER'S RANSOM 3/3
                            By Parker

     The next few days passed very slowly for Marion.
     Each one began in the same way: she would wake up cold and
stiff in her garage kennel. Sometimes Jimmy or one of the other
men would come and take her out in the morning. Other times, she
would be forced to wait for them, huddled on the cement floor,
her slender neck encircled by the rough leather dog collar.
     Her collar.
     It wasn't locked on; she could have removed it at any time.
     But she didn't.
     On those occasions where she wasn't released in the morning,
the pressure on her bladder would often force her to relieve
herself in her kennel. The humiliation never lessened, but she
quickly became adept at stretching her body and lifting her leg
so that she could let loose a stream of piss without getting too
much of it on herself. And her keepers made certain that there
was always fresh newspaper on the ground.
     Once released from her kennel, she was led into the house to
the bathroom where she would shower, brush her hair and apply
makeup. Angela was constantly critical of the way in which Marion
wore makeup, and the blonde woman was quickly "convinced" to
change her style. By the end of the third day, she was wearing
rather a good deal more than she was used to wearing, but if it
prevented a caning... well, it was worth it.
     And each day, a new set of clothing was laid out in the
bathroom, waiting for the captive school teacher to put it on.
Tight corsets; various types of stockings; push-up bras, half-cup
bras, see-through bras; crotchless panties; leather mini-
skirts... always changing, always something new. Again, it was
clothing she would never have dreamt of wearing if she had the
choice, but, of course, she didn't have that choice. The only
constant was the collar.
     Once properly dressed and made up, she would be inspected by
Angela and then her day would begin in earnest. Much of her time,
of course, was spent fucking and sucking. Besides Angela and
Jimmy, there were three other men who were part of the
kidnapping. Before Marion lost track late on the afternoon of the
third day, she figured that she was satisfying each of them at
least twice a day, usually with Angela watching and giving orders
and instructions. Often, Angela would punctuate those commands
with the cane.
     With the redhead's "encouragement", the blonde school
teacher quickly became proficient at the art of satisfying men
with her mouth and pussy, fucking and sucking more in those
several days than she had in the previous two years of her
marriage with Donald. At least, it seemed like it. Perhaps the
worst thing about it was the fact that Angela was never satisfied
with Marion's efforts unless the blonde woman came. Hence, Marion
repeatedly found herself forced to masturbate to orgasm while
performing the most disgusting acts. And, in between the sex,
Angela frequently forced her captive to play with herself. It
took a few episodes with the cane, but Marion gradually learned
not only to obey when Angela ordered her to come, but also that
Angela was quite able to tell when she was faking it, often with
very painful results. The blonde woman thus spent hours crouched
at Angela's feet, masturbating herself to orgasm after
humiliating orgasm while the redhead read a book or watched
television.
     By the end of each day, her pussy lips were red and swollen
from all the attention they were getting, but she kept having
orgasms. After a while, it began to get easier and easier to make
herself come, and, eventually, the feelings of lust never
entirely left her burning, aching pussy. Sometimes, late a night,
alone and chained in the hard darkness of her kennel, Marion
would masturbate herself to orgasm. She cried as she did so,
wondering what she was turning into, but she still did it. It was
her only source of pleasure, of comfort.
     As well as the sex, Angela also forced her unwilling pupil
to learn and practice a number of humiliating poses, positions,
mannerisms and gestures. Under the threat of the cane, Marion was
forced to learn how to walk in the increasingly precarious pumps,
her hips swaying and breasts thrust out in an inviting fashion.
She learned how to giggle like a bimbo every time her mistress
attempted the lamest joke. She was taught how to squat on her
heels, knees spread and hands clasped behind her neck, awaiting
orders. And, worst of all, Marion was trained to hold the
position she had learned on the first day, bent over with her
hands grasping her ankles while the cane was brought down onto
her ass. This one was a favourite of Angela's, and Marion got
lots of practice. Her pussy was not the only part of her body
that was regularly red and swollen when she was locked into her
kennel for the night.
     While her training continued, Marion was kept in the dark
about what was happening with the kidnapper's attempts to ransom
Sheila. She saw the teenager once in a while - she was kept
chained to a bed in the small bedroom - but was never allowed to
talk with her. Besides a black eye and a bruised, sullen
expression, the girl seemed largely unharmed, for which Marion
was thankful. Despite all that had happened, Marion still felt an
elder's - a teacher's - protectiveness towards the girl. One of
the things - in fact, only thing - that allowed her to bear her
torments was the idea that by taking the kidnapper's abuse, she
was somehow protecting the teenager.
     One morning, just over a week after the original kidnapping,
Marion entered the living room to find a very grim looking Jimmy
awaiting her. Angela was also there, also looking very sullen and
angry. They looked like they had been arguing. Trembling, the
blonde woman assumed the squatting position she had been taught,
and awaited events. She'd learned not to ask questions.
     "Hello Darling," Angela growled, obviously angry about
something.
     "Good morning mistress." Marion kept her eyes cast downward.
Her voice trembled; Angela's anger usually meant the cane.
     "We've got a problem." The redhead began pacing, walking
slowly around her frightened, squatting captive. "Apparently your
husband didn't believe your letter. He's raised a fuss with the
cops, and they're beginning to put two and two together. That's
attention we don't need. Do you understand?"
     "Yes mistress." The blonde woman didn't really understand
how anything Donald was doing could affect her kidnappers, but
she was too frightened to question the redhead. In fact, she
wasn't really listening. Marion's entire attention was focussed
on the cane which Angela was carrying in her hand. She couldn't
take her eyes off it.
     "Jimmy's solution," Angela continued, "is the same as
before. He wants to cut off the loose ends." Marion shuddered;
she knew what that meant. "He and I..." Angela glanced angrily
across the room at her partner, "... we've had a 'discussion'
about it. We disagree, but I convinced him - not by much, mind
you - that there's a better way to solve the problem. A less
drastic way."
     Jimmy snorted from the other side of the room.
     The redhead stopped pacing and stood directly in front of
the trembling blonde. "You do want that, don't you Darling?" She
grasped the squatting woman's cheeks in her hand and turned her
face upwards. "You don't want us to use drastic measures?"
     Marion again found herself fighting back tears. "No
mistress. Please... what can I do?"
     The redhead shot a satisfied grin over at her partner as she
released her captive's face.
     "I'll tell you..."

     And she told her.
     Angela's plan was simple. It involved having Marion appear
in public. She thought that her captive's husband might be
convinced that the letter was real if Marion was seen in public
with another man, or men, dancing and laughing and generally
having fun. She also thought that it would be fun to humiliate
the blonde woman in a public place. Jimmy expressed the opinion
that it was too risky, but Angela countered with the fact that
they would still have Sheila at the house. She made it very clear
to Marion that should the blonde woman attempt to escape, the
first person to suffer would be the teenager. And, considering
the alternatives...
     Marion got the picture.
     And so, that same night Marion was dressed in real clothing
for the first time in over a week. Not clothing she would have
chosen to wear on her own, of course, but clothing nonetheless.
Treating her like a living barbie doll, the redhead dressed her
captive up in a tight, black tube dress that barely covered the
bottom curve of her ass and the upper curve of her breasts.
Sheer, white stockings ran from just under the hem of the skirt
to her feet. Six inch pumps and lots of dangling silver jewellery
completed the outfit.
     Almost.
     The collar remained.
     Marion put her hand expectantly to it, but Angela just
smirked and said that the collar wouldn't be out of place where
they were going. Silent and submissive, Marion let them dress her
up, just as though she were a barbie doll. Her thoughts were a
jumble of confusion. The thought of going out in public both
terrified and exhilarated her. The chance of escape! But, of
course, there was Sheila.
     At last, Angela was happy with Marion's appearance.
     "Perfect," she pronounced, dragging her blonde dress-up doll
in front of the bathroom mirror. "Darling's quite the little club
slut."
     The blonde woman stared silently at her reflection in the
mirror, eyes wide. Was that really her? The black tube dress was
wrapped tightly around her body, covering - if that was the right
word - her skin from just above her breasts down to just under
the bottom swell of her ass cheeks. Her sheer, white stockings,
held up with clearly visible garters, served more to highlight
her sleek legs than to cover them up, all the more so with the
way the pumps made the muscles stand out in her calves and
thighs. Her face was heavily made up, almost in a punk style, and
her blonde hair was teased up in a modern, slutty look. The
heavy, dangling jewellery on her wrists and ears, along with the
dark leather collar, put the final touches on her appearance.
Marion fought back a sob as she saw Angela's triumphant
expression in the mirror behind her. She had been transformed
from a married, conservative school teacher into... well, she
wasn't sure what.
     Not something she wanted to be.
     Jimmy was suitably impressed and seemed happier with the
whole plan as he led Marion into the garage and seated her in the
back of the van. A pair of handcuffs were added to the collection
of jewellery on Marion's wrists; her hands were fastened to a
rail and the van door was slammed shut. She sat in darkness,
trembling, as the engine started up and the vehicle began to
move.

     "You remember," Jimmy warned her, his hand tight and painful
on her bare upper arm. "Any trouble and Sheila's dead. And you
too. Got it?"
     Wincing in pain at his grip, Marion nodded.
     The man stared at her for a second and then led her across
the shadowy parking lot towards the building. The bass throb of
the music got louder as they approached a heavy door. There was a
lineup, but Jimmy seemed to know the bouncers. One of them leered
at Marion as Jimmy talked. Money changed hands and then the two
were allowed to enter. Jimmy pulled her in front of him and
shoved her into the main room of the club.
     Marion was immediately overwhelmed with sensation. After a
week of being kept indoors a single house, of sleeping in a
garage kennel, of seeing the same four or five people day after
day, the blonde woman was staggered by the press of the crowd as
it bounced and seethed in directionless violence on the dance
floor. Angela had been right about the collar. The club was
fashionably punk, and many of the patrons were dressed in that
style. Collars were common, as were clothespins, teased hair and
heavy makeup. In her present dress, Marion fit right in.
     "C'mon," Jimmy yelled, pulling her through the crowd. "I'll
buy you a drink."
     Helpless, Marion followed behind him as he bulled his way up
to the bar. Almost immediately, she noticed men looking at her
lustfully. More than once on the way to the bar, she felt unseen
hands brush across her barely covered breasts and ass. She
squirmed, trying to avoid the unwanted attention, but she was
helpless to prevent it.
     At the bar, Jimmy ordered two of something; Marion didn't
hear what it was. When the drinks arrived, he handed her one and
told her to drink it down quickly. She obeyed. Whatever it was,
it was strong. Marion's throat burned and she almost coughed it
up. Laughing, Jimmy ordered another drink. And then another. By
the time she finished her third, Marion's head was beginning to
spin. The alcohol combined with the flashing lights and sweaty,
throbbing music to make her dizzy and disoriented. She staggered
backwards, and only kept from falling by grabbing another man's
arm to steady herself. The man looked at her and smiled, but
Jimmy pulled her away.
     "Let's dance," he mouthed, pulling her onto the dance floor.
     Dizzy as she was, Marion followed him into the seething mass
of dancers and, at his prompting, began to bounce and twist more
or less in time with the music. Jimmy smiled in approval and,
under the influence of the alcohol, she began to relax a bit.
Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. The loud, throbbing music slowly
overwhelmed her senses as she began to dance more emphatically.
     And, as she danced, the burning feeling in her pussy began
to grow. Slowly at first, but definitely growing. Not really
aware of what she was doing, Marion slid a hand down the front of
her stomach until it came to rest over her crotch and began to
buck her hips in time with the music. She closed her eyes and let
the feelings grow within her. For the past several days, she had
been forced to masturbate almost continuously (when not actually
having sex), and she did so now without really thinking about it.
It just seemed natural.
     In a world of her own, she spun slowly around the dance
floor. Her hips swayed sexily, in time with the music as she
danced. One hand rubbed, with increasing speed, up and down over
her crotch, massaging her sopping pussy through the thin material
of the tube dress while the other combed through her blonde hair,
slid down her face, across her wet, pouting lips and then rubbed
up against her rock-hard nipples. Her breathing became harsh and
ragged as the passion began to build in her twisting, sweating
body. She danced harder and harder, rubbed harder and harder as
the feelings built... built... built... and finally, she came. A
loud moan escaped her parted lips as an orgasm rolled over her
body in a single, massive wave of pleasure.
     When the feeling finally ebbed, she opened her eyes.
     Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. A small circle had opened up
around her on the dance floor and everyone was watching her. Men
looked on with lusting, hungry eyes while women just eyed her
with a queasy contempt. With a gasp, Marion looked down at
herself, suddenly self-conscious. There was a large wet spot on
the front of her dress, just over the crotch, and her nipples
were clearly visible as they poked like hard little pebbles
through the thin material covering her breasts.
     Someone laughed.
     "Noooo..."
     The blonde woman turned away, trying to cover or protect
herself, but not before another thrill of lust shot through her
body. With a half-choked sob, she realized that it was the
humiliation itself that was causing her pussy to become excited.
What was happening to her?
     Marion frantically tried get off the dance floor, but the
crowd around her slowly closed in, trapping her where she stood.
Another song started, and she was no longer the centre of
attention. She tried to slip away, but one of the men stepped up
and began dancing directly in front of her.
     "Hey, babe," he half-yelled, his upper lip glistening under
the lights "you look like you need a man." Confused, Marion shook
her head, but the man just put his arms around her neck and
pulled her into his chest. The blonde woman tried to break away,
but the pressure of the bouncing, surging crowd was too great.
The dizziness, momentary forgotten, once again overcame her. With
a helpless sigh, she sagged forward, allowing the man to support
her. He grinned knowingly, pulling her even closer to his body
while guiding her in a slow, tight circle on the dance floor.
Almost unconsciously, she let her hands fall around behind his
back. Tired, she closed her eyes and let him lead.
     The dancing continued for a song or two. Slowly, as they
danced, the man became increasingly bolder with his hands.
Keeping one hand around her neck, he slid the other one down and
cupped the curves of her ass. Only partially conscious, she
squirmed and let out a quiet whimper, but didn't really pull away
or protest; she was just too dizzy. Emboldened by her lack of
protest, the man slid his hand down her ass until he came to the
hem of her dress. Careful not to alert her, he tugged upwards,
slowly pulling the dress up until her ass was completely exposed.
     "Ohh..."
     Marion gave a start, and jerked her hips forward when she
felt his bare hand on her ass.
     "Fuck," the man whispered, a grin spreading across his face.
"No panties." He slid his middle finger in between her ass cheeks
and fingered the entrance to her anus.
     "No," she mumbled, slurring her words. "Don't..."
     She tried to squirm away from his finger, but succeeded only
in rubbing her pussy up against his crotch. The spark of lust,
which had been momentarily dampened by her recent orgasm, burst
into being again. Without realizing it, she ground her hips
against him, enjoying the sensations which emanated through her
body at the feel of him body against her crotch. He brought his
lips against her's for a kiss; a sudden warmth flooded over her
as she opened her mouth to welcome his tongue, all the time...
     He slipped a finger into her anal passage.
     "Noooo..." The sudden pain of the intrusion cut through the
fog of lust, and she remembered where she was.
     And who she was.
     With a strength born of fear and humiliation, she brought
her knee straight up, hard, into the man's groin. The effect was
immediate; he let out a loud groan and crumpled onto the floor in
front of her. A few of the other dancers looked over, but most of
them ignored the disturbance. Marion put a hand to her mouth to
stifle a scream and backed away. A few steps later, the man was
out of sight, lost behind the crowd.
     Frightened, the blonde woman took another step backwards,
but the crowd was too thick. She started to try to push people
away, to free up some space, but then froze as a set of arms
reached around from behind her. She tried to turn, but instead
stumbled and fell back into the man reaching around her. In a
flash, the man had his hands on her breasts, squeezing and
fondling. Marion attempted to pull away, but the crowd was still
too thick, and she couldn't get her balance in the pumps. And the
man kept holding her back. Marion let out a cry as one hand
kneaded and fondled her breasts while the other slid down to her
crotch. Terrified, looked around for help. A number of other
people on the dance floor were watching her, but she saw no help
there. They just sneered, and stared at her as her body responded
automatically to the fondling hands.
     It was too much for her. With a quick, violent twist of her
upper body, she broke away. Half running, she squirmed through
the crowd and was almost off the dance floor when she ran
straight into another man.
      "Hey," he said, holding her arms to steady her. "What's the
hurry?" The DJ was between songs, so they could converse without
yelling.
     Marion drew a deep breath, gathering her thoughts as best
she could before speaking. Her mind considered her options, while
she glanced around for Jimmy. The man was nowhere to be seen. Was
this her chance? She briefly considered Sheila, but decided that
it was worth it. If the man would help her get to the police,
they would be there quickly enough to catch Jimmy before he went
back to the house. It was worth a try.
     The music started up again, so she had to lean forward and
speak almost directly into the man's ear to make herself
understood.
     "I need your help," she told him. "Can we go somewhere?"
     She glanced around, still worried that Jimmy might be
watching, so she didn't see the look on the man's face as he
nodded. He took her hand in his own and pulled her off the dance
floor and towards an exit sign at the back of the club. "Through
here," he said, pulling her through a heavy curtain and into a
short hallway. The hallway led to a door and before long, the two
of them were standing outside, in a quiet alley behind the club.
     Marion breathed a sigh of relief and looked around. "Thank
you so much," she said. "I..."
     Her sentence was cut off as the man brought his lips down
against her's in a passionate kiss. Surprised, she opened her
mouth and let his tongue explore the inside of her mouth for a
few moments, enjoying the sensation, before pushing him away. "D-
don't," she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. "That's
not what I..."
     "I know what the fuck you want," the man growled, taking a
handful of blonde hair. "And I'm going to give it to you." Marion
let out a cry as he used his grip in her hair to propel her
forward into the a low, iron rail fence beside the doorway. Her
cry was abruptly cut off as the railing slammed into her stomach
and drove the breath out of her lungs. Unable to breath, she
struggled weakly as the man forced her to bend over the rail and
pulled her dress up over her ass.
     "Ha," he grunted, "no panties. What a slut."
     Marion fought for air, wanting to struggle or, at least,
scream, but she couldn't draw a full breath. All she could do was
squirm helplessly and gasp for air as the man undid his zipper
and placed his rigid cock up against her pussy. To her shame, it
was sopping. She couldn't help it.
     The man laughed. "Guess I was right about you, bitch." With
a hard thrust, he rammed his cock straight up her pussy. Tears
rolled down the blonde woman's face as the man began to fuck her
from behind while she was bent over the iron railing. Against her
will, she felt her pussy welcome the intrusion and start to grow
even wetter. Soon, she was humping her ass back against the man's
cock and grunting with quiet lust at each stroke. Her passion
built until finally she came just as the man stiffened and spewed
jets of sperm into her over-heated pussy.
     Humiliated, she trembled on the rail as her orgasm slowly
subsided. The tremors and spasms had just about ended when she
heard a voice from a few feet away.
     "Hey, man... that's quite a slut you got there. Mind if I
have a go at her?"
     Marion looked up from her bent-over position to see who had
spoken. It was the man she had kneed on the dance floor.
     "Nooo..."
     She started to straighten up, but the man who had just
fucked her to orgasm pushed her back down over the railing. "Be
my guest," he laughed. "There's plenty to go around; she's a real
slut." He held her down while the second man came around behind
the rail and took over. With no warning, he plunged his cock into
her sopping pussy and began pistoning his hips. The first man did
up his pants and went back into the club; the music swelled and
then died away as the door opened and closed.
     "Bitch," the man grunted, slapping his hand down against her
thigh. Marion cried out at the pain, but immediately felt the
spark of lust rekindle. The man slapped her a few more times and
then began to fuck her in earnest. He slammed his hips into her
as hard as he could, driving her stomach into the railing again
and again. And, despite the pain and humiliation, or perhaps
because of it, she felt her body begin to react.
     The man laughed. "You really like this, don't you bitch?"
     Marion didn't answer. He grabbed a handful of blonde hair
and jerked her head painfully back. "I said, 'you like this,
don't you bitch'?"
     Whimpering at the pain, she moaned out a quiet "yes".
Satisfied, the man dropped her head and went back to fucking her.
"Tell me," he growled.
     "Yes," she grunted, her body jerking and bucking with each
hard thrust, "I like it... please... I love it..." She babbled
on, growing increasingly incoherent as the feelings of lust grew
in her battered body. Finally, all she could do was grunt in time
with the man's thrusts:
     "Hunh... huhn... huhn... Huhn... HUHN... HUHNN.... Ahh...."
     She came, her body bucking and spasming as her third orgasm
of the evening ripped through her body.
     "Fuck!" It was everything the man could do to hold on as she
kicked and bucked beneath him. He came, but his cocked slipped
out as she twisted away, and he spewed ropes of hot, sticky cum
down the back of her dress.
     "Shit man..."
     In a daze, Marion felt another pair of hands grip her ass.
She looked up blearily. The music was loud again - the door was
open - and more and more men were leaving the club and entering
the alley. She felt anther cock enter her pussy and, when she
opened her mouth to protest, another one was slipped in between
her lips. Instinctively, she began to suck at it with the skills
she had learned over the previous week.
     And, once again, her traitorous body began to react...

     She quickly lost track of how many men had taken her. Had
fucked her. All she knew was cocks and orgasm... cocks and
orgasms... cocks and orgasms...
     When Jimmy found her some time later, she was alone, on her
hands and knees up against the wall in the alley. Her black dress
was bunched up around her waist, torn and soaking with cum. Her
shoes were gone and stockings ripped. The insides of her thighs
were coated with the cum which still flowed freely from her red,
aching pussy. A long trail of cum and vomit hung down from her
lips as her stomach heaved, trying to reject at least some of the
many pints of sperm she had been forced to swallow.
     "Ohhh..."
     The blonde woman groaned quietly as Jimmy grabbed her hair
and dragged her to her bare feet. She coughed, spitting out
another wad of cum as he pulled her to the mouth of the alley and
over to where the van was waiting. He didn't bother handcuffing
her; she had passed out on the floor before the door was shut
behind her.
     She never even heard the engine start.

                              *****

     Marion's training continued the next day almost as though
nothing had happened. Almost. When she entered the living room
the next morning, Angela was waiting with the cane. Marion knew
what was expected of her; she assumed her caning position and
begged to be punished.
     The redhead obliged her.
     The only other consequence of Marion's outing to the club
was that Angela placed her off-limits to Jimmy and the other men.
Her captive's pussy, Angela decided, needed time to recover from
its ordeal. Marion almost fainted with relief when Angela made
the order - her pussy was red and raw after the gang bang in the
alley - but soon discovered that any slackening in her duties
towards the men was more than made up by an increase in the time
she had to spend satisfying Angela. For the next three days, she
spent almost every waking moment with the redhead, her nose
buried in the woman's pussy or ass. By the end of each day, both
her tongue and her pussy were aching, one with fatigue and the
other with unsatisfied lust. When Angela had decreed Marion's
pussy off limits, she had meant it.
     Even to Marion.
     And so, the blonde woman lived each waking moment in a haze
of sexual subservience and frustration. She forgot all else:
Sheila; her previous life; Donald... her entire consciousness was
focussed on one thing: satisfying her mistress.
     That was why, when she heard a woman's embarrassed giggle
from behind her in the room while her face was jammed up between
the redhead's sopping thighs, she was so surprised. Another
woman? Her instinct was to look up, but she had been too well
trained for that. She just kept right at work, using her tongue
to excite her mistress's clit and trying desperately not to think
about the dreadful lust burning in her own deprived pussy while
Angela greeted the newcomers and invited them to take a seat. It
was only when the redhead had orgasmed that Marion, her face wet
with pussy juice, was allowed to straighten up and turn around.
     "Donald!"
     It was her husband. He was sitting comfortably on a chair on
the other side of the room, a big grin on his face. Standing
behind him, her hand on his shoulder, was a beautiful woman with
long, brown hair. Her face was a little flushed, as though she
were somewhat embarrassed... or aroused. As Marion watched in
stunned silence, the brunette bent down and whispered something
in Donald's ear. Donald nodded and laughed out loud.
     Finally, Marion recovered her voice: "Donald! What are..."
     "Position!" Angela interrupted.
     The blonde woman hesitated for a split second, torn between
her training and the imminence of rescue, but a quick slap on her
ass with the cane made up her mind for her. Smoothly, she assumed
the squatting position she had been taught so well: sitting back
on her heels; knees bent; thighs spread; hands behind her neck;
and eyes down. Her face, splotchy with drying pussy juice, burned
with a humiliation she hadn't felt since the second day of her
training. The thought of Donald was seeing her like this was
almost unbearable.
     Still, she bore it.
     She had no choice.
     "Well Donald," Angela purred, her voice smug, "shall you do
the honours or shall I?"
     Marion heard Donald get to his feet. "I think I will," he
answered. "It's my buck paying the ticket, or at least part of
it." The brunette giggled again as Donald walked forward, towards
his squatting wife. "But I'd like to explain it in my own way."
     Angela laughed.
     The blonde woman felt her head being pulled back. She looked
up to see Donald's cock sticking in her face. With a soft cry,
she cringed; this was the first cock she'd seen since the gang
rape at the club. It frightened and repulsed her, but once again
the sharp sting of the cane against her ass compelled obedience.
     "Open your mouth," Donald ordered. "Don't suck it, just let
it sit there while I... 'fill you in'." The brunette let out
another giggle. A tear trickled down Marion's face as she
obediently opened her mouth and accepted her husband's cock. He
slid it in about two or three inches, just enough so that it sat
heavily on her tongue. "Ahhh..." Donald looked down with a large
grin on his face. "That feels great. Too bad I couldn't get you
to do this when we were married." Marion felt a tingle in her
pussy, but didn't acknowledge it. What did he mean 'when we were
married'?
     "Look up at me," Donald ordered. Obediently, Marion looked
up, staring at her husband as she knelt in front of him, his cock
in her mouth.
     Donald began to speak: "Let me tell you about my problem. I
had this wife, you see, a prim little school teacher. She was
cute enough, but she was just too fucking uptight to be much fun.
I tried to be patient with her, but she just never got into it.
As a result, I went elsewhere. This went on for a while, but the
stupid bitch never caught on; she was too busy playing teacher.
One day, I met Barbara here..." he gestured towards the brunette,
who walked over and stood beside him, resting her hand on his
shoulder "...and things changed." He paused for a moment and
Marion watched, tears streaming down her face, as her husband and
the brunette - Barbara - indulged themselves in a long,
passionate kiss. She felt his cock twitch on her tongue, and
barely suppressed a moan of shame and lust.
     Finally, they were done kissing. "You can start sucking,
now, but keep looking up at me." Her eyes blurred with tears, but
Marion did as she was told. Slowly, with all the skill she'd
painfully acquired over the last two weeks of training, she began
to suck her husband's cock, all the while staring up at him with
her big, blue eyes.
     Grinning, Donald resumed his story: "You see, Barbara
changed my life. Not only did she work wonders for my company,
turning things around and making me a fortune, but I fell in love
with her. And she fell in love with me: the perfect couple.
Except for one thing: I was already married."
     Marion let out a sob, but continued work slavishly on her
husband's cock. While she was sucking, the burning in her pussy
was quickly growing greater. After ten days of almost constant
masturbation and sex, Angela's refusal to let her come over the
last few days was driving her wild. Even with all the hateful
things Donald was saying, even with the humiliation of being
forced to suck his cock like some kind of whore in front of his
girlfriend, she still felt herself growing more and more excited.
Her hand trembled with the urge to reach down for her pussy, but
she held back. No matter how much she wanted it, she feared
Angela more.
     Donald continued speaking: "So I didn't know what to do. My
wife didn't know how rich I'd become, but I was pretty certain
that her lawyer would find out in any divorce proceeding. So we
couldn't go down that road: Barbara and I agreed that whatever
happened, we wouldn't give any of our money to my wife. So, we
were stuck. We even toyed with the idea of doing away with her,
but we just couldn't do it. Then it even seemed to get worse. We
were caught together by..."
     "Don't say it," Angela interrupted. "Leave that part out."
     By now, Marion was sliding her entire face up and down on
her husband's cock, taking it all the way down her throat and
then sliding it out. She wanted to do something - to bite, to
scream, to cry, to rage - but she couldn't. All she could do was
stare upwards, her mouth full of cock, while Donald went on with
his hateful story.
     "Fair enough," he agreed, groaning slightly. Marion's
efforts on his cock were beginning to effect him. "To make a long
story shorter, this person didn't rat on us. Instead, she
suggested a possible solution. A way out so that we would both
get what we wanted: me, Barbara and her. And she even knew the
perfect person to hire to do the job."
     Angela laughed.
     "And so," Donald concluded, his breath short and heavy with
arousal, "I got these." He pulled a piece of paper out of his
pocket and waved it in front of her face. It was the letter; the
letter she had been forced to write to him, explaining about how
she needed to be free to find other men. "And this." He flashed
some pictures in front of her wide eyes. They were obviously
taken in the club a few nights earlier: Marion dancing with
different men; Marion openly masturbating on the dance floor;
Marion leaning back and allowing her breasts to be fondled, a
dreamy look on her face; Marion kissing another man while
grinding her crotch into him. "With this," Donald concluded, "I
can get a divorce in no time."
     He fell silent and stiffened as his cock twitched and began
to spurt cum down Marion's throat. Marion swallowed, as she had
been trained to do, but the taste repulsed her. Nevertheless,
there was a burning in her pussy.
     "And you," Donald continued as he pulled his cock from her
mouth, "won't get a thing. You were the one who abandoned me." He
grinned down at her as he placed his cock back in his pants and
backed away.
     Her mouth sticky with cum, Marion looked up at him from her
squatting position. "But... but, what about me? I'll testify..."
     "Oh I don't think so," Angela laughed. "Your new mistress is
taking you home tonight. As far as anyone will know, you'll be
long gone with your 'lover'."
     Marion fell silent and looked around, bewildered.
     New mistress?
     Sheila walked out of the bedroom, fully dressed in skirt and
blouse. "Hello Mrs Seward," she sneered, an arrogant look on her
young face. "Or should I say 'Darling'".
     Speechless, Marion gaped at the teenager.
     Sheila smiled and walked slowly forward towards the still
squatting woman. "I gather Donald's told you all about your
impending divorce." The teenager smirked. "My condolences. It's
so sad when marriages don't work out." She came to a halt
directly in front of her ex-teacher. "Still, there's a bright
side," she continued. "Now you'll have more time to fulfil your
new duties."
     The blonde woman looked up at the teenager, her mind dizzy
with confusion. "New d-duties?"
     "Didn't Angela tell you?" Sheila looked over at the redhead,
her eyebrows raised.
     "I left it for you," the older woman told her, nodding
slightly.
     "Ah." Sheila turned her attention downward again, a tight
smile on her face. "I'm your new mistress. You're coming home
with me."
     Marion froze for a moment, her mind struggling to take it
all in. Donald... and that woman, Barbara... the kidnapping...
Sheila... Her body began to shake as it slowly became clear to
her just what had happened.
     And what was going to happen.
     "Nooo..." Her lower lip trembled; a tear welled up and
rolled out of one watering eye and trickled down her cheek.
"Nooo..."
     "Oh, yes," Sheila told her, laughing at the other woman's
reaction. "My father arranged the whole thing. He bought me a
house just off campus for college next year, complete with
basement and kennel." Sheila smirked. "And a cane."
     This couldn't be happening! Marion's gaze darted around the
room, looking for... she wasn't sure what. Sympathy? Escape?
    Someone to tell her it was all a bad joke?
     "But that's for the future." The teenager grinned and raised
her skirt. "And we'll have plenty of time together." She wasn't
wearing any panties. "Angela tells me you've turned into quite
the little cunt-hound. That'll be one of your duties, of course,
so I thought I'd see if her praise was justified."
     The blonde woman continued to shake as she stared at the
teenager's pussy, just inches from her face. It was quite
different from Angela's. The redhead's pussy had been fully
developed, and covered with thick, red pubic hair. Sheila's pussy
was much smaller and covered with a much finer sheen of hair. It
was a teenager's pussy; and the pussy of her new mistress.
     Her new mistress!
     A thrill of lust shot through Marion's body. With a quiet
moan of submission, she leaned forward and began work. Using
every ounce of skill she had acquired over the last ten days, she
did her best to satisfy her young mistress, slurping and sucking
at the girl's clit as best she could. Behind her, Donald let out
a booming laugh, and Marion was almost overcome with a wave of
shame and humiliation. And, as was the case over the last week of
her captivity, those feelings were closely followed by a burning,
hungry lust in her pussy. Inevitably, Marion felt herself growing
moist as she serviced her new mistress's pussy.
     "Angela?"
     Marion was barely aware that Sheila had said anything
before... [THWACK!] the cane landed on her ass with a brutal
impact.
     "Mmmmm..."
     The blonde woman let out a muffled scream into the younger
girl's pussy, causing her to squirm in lust at the feeling.
     "Again."
     THWACK!
     "Nmmmmgh..."
     "Again."
     THWACK!
     Marion twisted and writhed under the painful caning, but
didn't take her mouth away from Sheila's now sopping pussy. She
had been too well trained. Besides, the taste of the teenager's
pussy juice combined with the humiliation of her situation and
the burning pain of the caning to send powerful waves of lust
swelling out from her pussy and through the rest of her body.
With a whimper of lust, she drove her well-trained tongue deep
into the girl's pussy, her screams and writhing pushing the
younger girl closer and closer to orgasm.
     "Darling," Sheila breathed, gripping her slave's blonde
curls and pulling her face even harder into her wet pussy. "Touch
yourself. Come for your mistress!"
     The blonde woman mewled with sluttish pleasure as her hands
began their work. One hand flew up to her naked breasts, pinching
and squeezing and kneading as it had the very first time she had
been forced to give Jimmy a blowjob. The other hand went down to
her swamp-like pussy, furiously driving one, two and then three
fingers in and out while scraping the side of her hand up against
her burning clit. [THWACK!] Angela brought the cane down harder
and harder on the blonde woman's reddened ass as the two women,
the teenage mistress and her teacher-slave grunted and moaned
with lust.
     Finally, it was too much for the teenager. With a loud cry,
her legs gave way and she fell back onto her ass, her hands still
gripping Marion's blonde hair. As she fell, she drew the older
woman forward so that she was lying almost flat on the floor, her
face still jammed hard into the teenager's pussy.
     The extra pressure from the fall sent Sheila over the edge.
Letting out a scream, she wrapped her legs around her slave's
head and began to thrash wildly about, bouncing her ass up and
down off the floor with the force of the orgasm.
     Marion came.
     Face trapped between Sheila's bucking thighs, one hand
twisting and pulling on her aching nipples while the other clawed
desperately at her slut pussy, Marion came. Her legs kicked out
at random as her body was buffeted by wave after wave of orgasm
so intense it was mostly pain. She screamed her ecstacy into
Sheila's steaming pussy while Angela, sweating with exertion,
repeatedly slammed the cane into her red, writhing ass, sending
shockwaves of agony through the blonde woman's bucking, heaving
body and sending her to new heights of pain and pleasure.
          When her senses returned, Marion found herself lying on the
floor in a pool of tears, sweat and pussy juice. Donald and his
girlfriend had left the room, and Angela was giving Sheila a
small suitcase. Sheila smiled and handed over an envelope. The
transaction completed, the brown-haired teenager walked over and
attached a chain leash to Marion's leather collar.
     "Well Darling," she asked, smirking, "ready to go?"
     Marion looked up at Sheila as she stood, towering over the
crouching woman. The teenager looked so confident; so beautiful.
Briefly, the blonde school teacher contemplated the future -
being kept as a sex slave by a former student; sleeping chained
and naked in a basement kennel like some kind of degraded,
sluttish animal; being forced to serve her former student in any
way the girl demanded - and a shudder of lust racked her abused
body. She looked up at her ex-student, fighting back an urge to
plunge her hand once again back into her spasming pussy.
     "Yes mistress," she answered, meaning every word. Just as
she had been trained to do. "I'm ready."

                             THE END