by Powerone
She gulped as the wood began to enclose her neck, the smell of the wood permeated her nose as it moved closer. She felt her other wrist enclosed, and began to panic as Headmaster Michael clamped the pillory stocks together, a loud clang as the iron lock was snapped shut. She panicked and tried to jerk her hands free, the wood pillory doing its job, her wrists trapped tightly between them.
"Settle down now, Justine. You can't get out; relax and get use to it. You're going to be in for a while. I'm going to tighten the band around your neck. Now don't panic.” He grabbed the bulb in his hand, made sure it was in front of her face, he wanted to see the panic in her eyes.
"Please, Sir. It's already tight enough,” Justine begged, though it was fairly loose, she was afraid of what he was capable of. She heard the whoosh as he pumped the bulb, felt the rubber collar instantly inflate, tighten on her neck. Her eyes bulged as he continued to pump the bulb, the rubber collar tightened in bursts as if it were pulsating. The collar cut deep into her neck, her breathing constrained, panic set in. Would he cut off her air; could he be that cruel?
Her face turned from a pretty pink to white, another pump on the bulb tightened more, her complexion went to a blue as she began to slowly asphyxiate. He released a small amount of air, not wanting her to pass out; just wanting her to feel the control he had over her body. “In case you decide to refuse me,” he pumped again, saw the panic in her face as it constrained her neck tightly again. He paused, let it sink in then released some air, the collar loosened but still wrapped tightly around her neck. “Just in case you forget how much control I have over your body, Justine."
She let her body relax, her upper body now restrained tightly, her arms bound in the pillory, she gulped, tried to get use to the tight collar around her neck. Breathe deeply, Justine thought to herself.
"Let's get you a little stretched out, Justine, I want to see that lovely little body of yours,” as he pulled on the chain, the pillory slowly rose, pulling not only her arms up higher, but at the same time her neck. She squirmed, her feet danced back and forth as her body stretched, her neck yanked upward as a chiropractor would do. “You're going to have to get on your tiptoes for me, Justine; I want your body tall and lean. Let the muscles in your legs extend, give them such a lean look. I like that in a girl."
She rose on her toes-the tight collar pulled her up by her neck-to try to relieve some of the strain. She got off the balls of her feet, Headmaster Michael still pulled the pillory up; balanced on her toes, not sure how long she would be able to do this, her toes already ached. If she stayed this way too long, her feet would begin to cramp; she was afraid she would hang herself.
Meredith watched the three men in the room stare intently through the window. They were all in the early sixties, well dressed, educated, and very wealthy Southern gentlemen. If people only knew of the perversions they loved to inflict on the young college girls-but maybe they already did know. The Southern aristocracy was always tight lipped, glossing over shortcomings that carried from generation to generation. Hollister School for Girls was established by the grandparents of these and other men like them, a place where troubled girls from wealthy families could be re-trained and accepted into elite southern universities. The dark side, the scholarship girls provided a ready supply of nubile, impressionable girls who could be trained to perform the unspeakable acts that were required of them, a tradeoff they or their parents made for a chance at a life that would normally be beyond their grasp.
She looked through the window; Michael enjoyed himself with Justine, her expression not nearly as excited as his. Her body stretched tall, her long legs taut, balanced precariously on her toes as she slowly swung, Michael pleased at the way she was presented. Her face showed the strain as she was literally being stretched by her neck. “He does well in presenting her, doesn't he?” she asked the others.
"Such a lovely girl. I can't wait until he gets her naked,” Doctor Lenox responded.
"He takes his time. It's much more humiliating to slowly strip them, force them into very degrading positions that highlight their naked bodies, more especially for inexperienced girls like Justine."
He moved toward her, whispered in her ear, so those behind the mirror couldn't hear. “Your body looks so lovely, Justine. I'm going to enjoy you very much.” He moved away for a minute, a rope came down from the ceiling, a strap hung from it. “Now be a good girl and raise your leg up. I want to secure it with this strap. I want to see under that pretty skirt of yours.” He waited; she would not willingly do this. He tugged on the rope supporting the pillory, Justine suddenly jolted upward, the wooden pillory pulled tight around her neck, her chin pointed upward, her toes pulled from the floor. She began to turn white, her eyes bulged out. “Are you going to obey, Justine, or must we always play this silly game?"
She felt him release the tension on the rope, the pillory once again lowered, but still balanced on her toes. It felt like her jaw was going to break, the wood unyielding, her jaw the only thing that would give. She let one foot move out, difficult to do while standing on only one foot. “Please let me down a little,” she begged, her leg stretched out at knee level, already ached, not sure how long he expected her to keep it that way.
Michael let her down some, her one foot now flat on the ground. “See, I can be nice if you cooperate, but I need you to raise your leg up higher. It's so lovely."
She strained her leg almost up to her waist, her skirt bunched up on her thigh. She knew that he could see under it, her panties probably exposed, but that was the least of her problems. Her leg ached. “Please hurry."
"Gladly, Justine,” his hand reached out and gripped her ankle tightly, raised it higher, made sure it stayed straight, his other hand under her knee, he wanted her to feel the pull in her muscles and in her crotch. He looked down at the sleek leg beneath his hands; her skirt pulled back, a glimpse of the pale blue panties underneath. The hand under her knee grabbed the strap from the rope, wrapped it tightly around her upper thigh, pushed her skirt out of the way as he did. He yanked; the strap compressed her flesh, made her grunt in pain. He pulled up on the rope, her leg now supported by it, he continued to pull up, higher and higher, pushed her leg outward, opened up her crotch to him.
She felt her leg open wide above her waist and below her knee hung uselessly, back on her tip toes to keep from falling over. He finally stopped, her knee well above her waist, Headmaster Michael's hand held her thigh pushed out, his eyes on the wide expanse of naked thigh that went all the way up to the blue panties that highlighted her pink skin. Would he molest her? Why else would he have her spread so obscenely? “What are you going to do, Headmaster Michael?"
"You have such a delectable body, Justine. I'm going to play with it while you are hanging here. Maybe masturbate you. Could you cum for me, Justine?"
"Don't touch me!” She instantly recognized her mistake; Headmaster Michael stared into her eyes with an evil glint.
"I will do what I want with your body, Justine. For the next few days your body is mine to play with. Some of it will be pleasurable but you will also feel pain. After a while you will submit to the pleasure if for no other reason than to stop the pain.” He stroked her face as he watched resignation sink in, her body bound for his pleasure. “Yes, let yourself go, give in to me.” His hand slowly slid up and down her legs, her muscles tight, his calloused hands enjoyed the silky smooth inner thighs; smooth, delicate skin that he would soon mark with a whip or a strap. He let his hand slip her skirt up, “Let's get this out of the way. Yes, such lovely panties, Justine,” she tried to move away as his hands slid up her thighs almost to her crotch.
She turned red, her skirt shamelessly thrown aside by Headmaster Michael, her naked leg bound and spread by the rope. She could never have imagined such a thing, to be humiliated like this, bound and hung like a piece of meat in a meat market, unable to stop him from doing anything to her. Even if she screamed, she doubted that anyone would hear, or even care. Most had left for the h
Headmaster Michael moved back a bit from her, one hand still on her leg, he admired the thrust of her breasts. Her arms were held up high, unable to protect the soft globes, Headmaster Michael eager to feel them. “I love a girl in a sweater, Justine. I love the tactile feel of a firm set of breasts beneath a nice soft sweater. And you have such a nice pair.” She shut her eyes; she didn't want to see as he moved toward her, his hands eagerly in search of her breasts. She'd had many boys paw at her but, except for the one that took her virginity, she fought them off successfully. She pulled on her wrists, the pillory held her firmly in its grip.
"Open your eyes, Justine. I want you to see everything you are going to experience.” He moved closer, his fingers lightly ran over the top of her breasts, his fingers flowed over the soft sweater material, her youthful flesh underneath it. He stared into her eyes, his fingers slowly moved back and forth, tracing her cleavage, his cock jumped at the image of it buried tightly between them, tit fucking her until he came on her face. He made the circles bigger, spread out, fanning out toward her nipples. He looked surprised to see them protruding from the sweater. “It looks like you're enjoying this, Justine, your hard little nipples are poking out your sweater,” he teased.
She couldn't believe that her body responded! To be bound, ready to be punished, his fingers taking liberties with her body that she would not allow, yet she couldn't deny that her nipples were hard, hard as pebbles. She turned red in shame, unable to understand why.
"Arch your back for me, Justine, and I'll let my fingers encircle those hard tips. You want that don't you? You want my fingers to touch them.” He moved his finger closer, encircled her areolas, pushed harder on the flesh beneath his fingers, saw the tips spring out, begging to be touched. He continued to tease around the nipple, bigger, teased erect, but she still refused to arch her back for him. He let his hand slip down on her naked leg, felt her, his other hand still encircled her breast, then pinched the tender flesh around her nipple.
She screamed, her back arched, her breasts forced out, Headmaster Michael's ready fingers clamped on one tightly. She moaned loudly as his fingers pinched the sensitive tip.
"What did he do?” Doctor Lenox could not understand why she all of sudden arched her back for him, stuck her tits out for him to touch. He looked at Meredith.
"Look at his other hand,” and pointed out Headmaster Michael's other hand on her naked legs now gripped her sex in his palm, one finger dug deep between the lips of her pussy, clenching and unclenching on it like it was a baseball.
Justine was shocked by his touch. One minute she begged to have her nipple touch, then resisted his order to push her breasts out for him. The next minute he had gripped her between the legs, her bound and spread leg that left her defenseless. The large hand so callously gripped her between the legs, knocked the air from her lungs, Justine so unprepared. His fingers rubbed her pussy lips back and forth. She couldn't help herself, her back arched, her breasts stuck out, begging him to touch them. And he did. Michael seized one thrust out breast by the nipple, pinched it between his rugged fingers, and sent delightful pain through her body to mix with the pleasure he gave her between the legs.
Headmaster Michael, pleased with the way she performed, hoped the Board was also pleased with his ability to put a girl through her paces. He had so much more to do to Justine, he moved his hand away from her pussy, her panties already damp. “That was a good girl, Justine,” two hands now pinched and pulled on her nipples, “keep your back arched for me, stick your tits out for me to play with,” he ordered her, noting she enjoyed his hands. “See how much pleasure I can give you?” he encircled both breasts in his large palms, gripped the springy flesh, squeezed them, felt their resilience. “Yes, so nice beneath that soft sweater. But you know what I have to do next, don't you? I want to feel your naked breasts. I want my fingers touching your naked nipples,” squeezing her breasts in his powerful hands.
She felt so naughty; his hands so casually caressed her breasts while she willingly thrust them out for him. She wished his hand was back between her legs; her bound leg left her so open, and now so empty. She couldn't help herself; she was bound, unable to stop him from having his way with her, already forgetting the punishment he had promised. She felt his hands touch her stomach, pushed under her sweater, touched her naked skin, she knew that he would be pulling up the garment. She looked down as his strong hands grabbed the sweater, pulled it over her bra, up to the bottom of the pillory, and tucked it in. She felt his hands reach back down, fingers over her naked breasts, lightly touched the breast flesh that pushed out the top of her bra, slipped down in the valley between them, back and forth.
He didn't wait long before his hands encircled the blue matching bra, a frilly garment that barely contained her ample breasts. He squeezed them both, pushed the flesh out the top of her bra. “I can't wait any longer,” Justine's eyes opened wide when he pulled out a knife, “I'm going to cut it off, that and your sweater. You won't need any clothes for a while; I'm going to enjoy you very naked.” He laughed at her distress as the knife made short work of the flimsy garment, a few snips on the shoulder straps, not even bothering to unsnap the clasp in the back, easier to slash the edge, let her feel the knife “accidentally” nick her under her arm, he relished her gasp of pain. He let the bra sit on her chest, knowing the men in the other room eagerly waited the sight of her naked breasts.
He looked into her eyes as his hands moved down to her bra, the knife cut all support, the garment just laid on her breasts now. Suddenly, he ripped the bra from her, her nipples turned hard instantly; they stood out over an inch, the pink tips long and extended from the tug of his fingers. Her large dark brown areolas the size of half dollars sat in a sea of white flesh.
Michael loved young girls’ breasts, their nipples stood out so proudly and there was no sag. They made such nice targets, surprising the girls when he took a whip to them, not really being able to believe that someone would do something that cruel and painful to them. But he did, he loved to take flexible rods to their nipples, to ignite a pain that they couldn't believe. He reached down and grasped her breasts, loving the feel of her warm flesh, feeling her hard nipples in his palms as he squeezed them. “Keep your back arched for me like a good girl, Justine,” his fingers ran around the areolas, a ragged fingernail over the brown flesh, tiny bumps popped up, moved closer to the hard nipple.
His fingernail hurt! It must be a jagged fingernail, like a knife around her nipple, but she kept her back arched for him, waited, knowing that he would touch her nipple with that ragged fingernail. She knew it would hurt, but the pain was different now. She moaned, his fingernails over her nipples, a finger snapped at her erect nipple, slapped it back and forth harshly.
Michael moved his head down, her eyes watched him. His tongue ran down her cleavage before his mouth clamped onto one of her nipples, sucked it deep into his mouth, the nipple stretched at least two inches, his teeth biting into the flesh of her areola keeping it trapped in his mouth. He let his hot, rough tongue lap at the swollen flesh, slapping it back and forth while she moaned vehemently. His other hand reached over for her hanging breast, his fingers pinched and twisted that nipple painfully.
It felt so good, her nipples so sensitive, as he took advantage of her bound arms, unable to stop him from doing anything to her, his mouth sucked her nipple as she imagined a baby would do. But this was different, she wished she could put her legs together, could rub her thighs together, her pussy throbbed with desire. She almost wished his hands would return to between her legs; grab her by the sex again. She knew she would cum if he did.
Michael pulled his head back, her one nipple glistened with his saliva, both nipples now a darker red from the abuse by his fingers and mouth, tiny teeth marks laced around one areola. His cock throbbed with the thought of how they would look with the marks of a whip on them. He moved to the side, giving the Board a good look at Justine naked from the waist up, seeing the lust in her face as he slowly aroused her sexually.
"You want me to touch your pussy, Justine, don't you?"
She looked at him; shivering from the way he made her body feel. He was so much older than she was, it shouldn't be this way. She shouldn't be so sexually aroused, yet she couldn't deny the feelings coming from her sex. She knew her panties were soaked, humiliated that he would soon find out how much she really wanted it. She couldn't hide it, with her leg pulled up high, her pussy so open to his touch; he had unencumbered access to her pussy.
He reached his hand down and gripped her on the back of her naked legs before he slid his hand up until it reached her panties. He moved higher, gripping her tight ass, so full, his hand loved the feel of her buttocks as she tightened her muscles. “Such a nice ass, Justine. Very nice. You like me touching it?” He let his hand run over her ass, fingers tracing up and down her crack, her cheeks tightened when he did.
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