“This.... well let me just say that THIS is the inner sanctum. My Inner Sanctum. This is the place that is beyond the scope of the general Hooter School. This is the place where 'other' targets are set and met. This is where girls like you get to come and kind of discover yourself and your future. It would be wrong to say that girls like you are 'lucky' to come to this place – that you were fortunate to be seeing the inner sanctum – that you were somehow privileged to be seeing the Inner Sanctum. That would be the wrong thing to tell you, simply because it is not true. You are not lucky to be coming here. You are most definitely very UN lucky to be here. To say you were lucky would be to suggest that you were going to benefit, somehow from your visit here. And that would be a wholly unacceptable impression to give you. The fact is, that you have been taken to the inner sanctum here means that you are going to take a fall in life. A big fall. It would be true to say that in a way you will benefit – but not in a good way. Benefit for you from this point on means suffering. I guess it would be the right thing to say that it’s from this point on that you find truly what Hooter School is all about. And what you are all about.”
Hooter Tutor spoke slowly and she spoke precisely. She knew that Cheryl, right at this time would be finding it difficult to take things in and compute them. She knew that in a way, Dorothea had had the best introduction to her new world via Wendy and the twins and that mega orgasm – oh yes she knew all about that. But she was also 'fond' of the idea that there was no easy way in for Cheryl. No mega orgasm for Cheryl, just brutal and bone deep clarity. She liked that she was experiencing the 'sudden' and complete utter fall from grace. If truth were really known, there had been no way, ever that Cheryl was going to rise further and that she had just been being built up for the catastrophic fall from grace and power that a Head Girl would have enjoyed. The only thing that Hooter Tutor did not, or could not know was how Cheryl's father and her step mother would react and act at certain points in the process. It had all had to be a carefully orchestrated piece of manipulation and when the 'move' had been made, it had been timed to perfection. The truth was the step mother had wanted to offload Cheryl for a long long time – and the timing was perfect. Hooter Tutor spoke slowly, precisely because she knew that Cheryl was not in a good place right at this time. She didn't want to speak for the sake of speaking whilst knowing that her words were going in through one ear and out of the other. She wanted the words to drip in slowly even if the shock and awe was not a slow drip.
“If I tell you that this Inner Sanctum is completely and utterly soundproofed and that only the very select few get to come here – maybe, just maybe you will start to realise that you are in a very special place. A very scary place maybe for you. I grant you that. It can only be, right now, scaring you witless – and I do appreciate that. But don't expect an easy ride – don't expect your time here to be an easy one. You are here because you have FAILED. You are here because you have DEFAULTED on the acceptable. You were given a task to do and you FAILED and now you are here. In my inner sanctum. This is a place where you will learn all about yourself – and your limits of endurance. This is a place, probably where it will cross your mind increasingly from time to time that you would be better off dead. This is the place where those delicious breasts of yours are finally going to come into their own. This is where you will learn that those breasts of yours, nice and pert, fleshy, large even, are NOT breasts at all but simply tools with which to torment you. You might think right now that you do not deserve to be tormented – but well, that state of mind will change. I promise you that that will change. You will be made to accept that you deserve everything that is coming to you. You will learn that you are not that different a creature to Jugsalina – I know that will be a shock to you right now – you, Head Hooter Girl compared to Jugsalina – compared on the same level to Jugsalina – how awful! Not! There is little to choose between you, as creatures. Little to choose between you – apart from the stupendous mammary size that she has been afflicted with. Which reminds me – don't expect that your own udders will be staying the same pert things that they are now – they will be modified and they will be adapted for use – and abuse. Much in the same way that your mind will be adapted, modified and used and abused.”
The words were sinking in – the changes in expression and demeanour were alarming and slipping by the second. Cheryl's eyes were flitting about the room – the Inner Sanctum as she was trying to make sense of what she was seeing at the same time as computing the words that she was hearing Hooter Tutor saying. It wasn't easy for her – it was anything but easy. She was aware of her bottom lip quivering. She had never felt her bottom lip quivering before. She had enjoyed having full and un-contained control of her full, sensuous lips before – but not now. She tried to nibble her bottom lip back so that it would stop trembling – but that didn't work. Her immaculate teeth simply denting and whiting out the deep red gloss that was part of the uniform in Hooter School. She palmed her micro skirt, just on her hips, round by her ass trying to get rid of the hot sweat that had formed but even that didn't work because as soon as it had been wiped, more formed. It was part of the process of her brain telling her body to rebel against what was happening and what was going to happen in the future. Hooter Tutor knew that though – she knew what the HHG was going through and the processes involved and inwardly she smiled. Hooter Tutor slowed the pace of information and simply opted to watch the girl for a while. She had always liked the early stages in a girl's downfall. The bit where the confusion is rife – that little bit where they can't quite work out what is going on. That they must be mistaken – it could not be real that it was all over for them – it could not be real the words they were hearing, mapping out their future. She liked that bit – she liked especially to look into the eyes – more especially she liked to look into the eyes over an extended period, like she was now. Before she had heard those words, at the time when she had only 'thought' that something was not right, that the end might be in store for her, those eyes had still been sparkling, and huge – like pools of hope. But, that was what Hooter Tutor liked to see, liked to witness as an advanced Sadist – she liked to see that spark and that flame and that hope in the eyes slowly but surely be extinguish. Yes, that was what she liked to see and she was seeing it, in the Inner Sanctum, Cheryl, the Head Hooter Girl in front of her, gripping her micro hem, peeling that micro hem up just a little and then a little more. Nothing further from her melting mind than the exposure of her upper thighs and stocking tops. In feeling a hopeless despair, providing a sexual energy to the older, complex Hooter Tutor.
“What you see here – what you see all around you and what you will see, and witness when you are taken into the deeper bowels of the Inner Sanctum, are simply things that will be used to make your life a misery. You will see things, and witness things that will make your flesh creep – especially in the early days and weeks when your mind and body are adjusting. I know that right now you will feel like the world has ended for you and in a way, well in a way it has. But – you will get over that period of absolute utter despair and you will move on. Your mind and your body, more especially your tits will adapt to their new status and situation. You will kind of come out of the blackness and you will learn simply to live the way required. In a way you will flourish – not in a good way for you. But it is amazing what the human mind and body can accept and adapt to when the chips are down. And if there is one thing you can be sure of right now, is that the chips are down. I would even place a bet now that those gorgeous legs of your, right now are feeling weak, and wobbly – I bet you feel that they are going to crumble under you because of the shock you are receiving now. And I know this is all coming as a bit of a shock to you. Well actually that will be understating it more than a little. I suspect you are in total shock, having it all spelt out to you so brutally. Having all that you have been suspecting over the last few week finally spelled out to you so brutally. Having it all confirmed as it were.”
Hooter Tutor was right – Head Hooter Girl's legs were weak and they were wobbly. She was managing to stand her ground but she felt that should she move a stiletto foot, or adjust her stance even the smallest amount then they would crumble under her and she would end up in a rather undignified heap on the floor. She did wriggle her toes – but that sensation didn't help. She tried to regulate her breathing – something that she had never had to do before. Dorothea could give her some useful tips on that one – should the opportunity ever present itself. And for the strangest reason she became more aware of her breasts. She had always been aware of them – how stunning they were and what fun she could have with them – and what fun others could have with them, on her terms. This was different though – completely different. Her nipples stiffened inside the tight uplift bra that she wore under the white blouse – something that had never happened before. And certainly something that had never happened without her being sexually aroused beforehand. Her lips trembled and she closed her eyes knowing that things were over for her. At least over for her as she had known it.
In another part of Hooter School – Jugsalina was swatting up, preparing for her final exams. She was in bed – at least her hooters were in bed – she was simply in agony, on her knees, arms secured behind her and her mammaries were in the warm comfort and confines of the bed. She was swatting up in her mind – going over all that she had to go through. And she was smiling. But at the same time there were tear streaks down each cheek. Wet trails stained with black mascara. Elsewhere in the building, a new dawn was breaking.
PART THREE
Home Again
© Copyright DrkFetyshNyghts, 2012
The right of DrkFetyshNyghts to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This electronic book published by Fiction4All
Imprint: FetishWorld
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Chapter One
Jugsalina FAILED. She failed her final exams at Hooter School for the second time. She didn't just fail – she failed miserably. She failed the Skittle-Udder test which arguable would have been the simplest test out of the whole bunch – but she didn't simply just fail that, she did so with honours. All she had had to do was stoop over a row of spiked columns and aim her hanging, swinging jugs at them and then knock them over. What could be more simple? Except it wasn't. It should be noted that the whole row of spiked columns had to be knocked over not just one or two. It looked simple – it should have been simple if only the brainless pair of fun bags on legs had been able to focus on what she should have been doing then she might have sailed through it. But she didn't. Instead she focused on the pain and the anxiety the exercise was causing her. She failed to focus beyond all of that pain and anxiety and to the greater achievement of absorbing all that pain. Ok, ok yes there was something to be said about the spikes almost impaling her because of the sheer weight of them against the columns – and then the severe electric shock depending on the depth of penetration that was achieved. But the simplest matter of fact was that she managed to knock over just one of the columns – just one and then she let out a yelp that would have impressed an animal from the wild or something. The one column was impressively obliterated by just one of her huge and massive tits and then she let out that yelp. That wouldn't have been such a bad thing – in fact it would have pleased any observers of this particular test to have seen her yelp, and smile all at the same time.
To see the impressive and pendulous swing and then the column being enveloped in all of the momentous flesh was a feast for the trained eye for sure. But then, with the swing at its most destructive, the spikes just about piercing the tender and sensitive flesh there was the electric shock. Electric shocks from the ten or so barbed spiked that had pierced the flesh. That had made Jugsalina open her eyes until they had nearly 'popped'. It seemed always to be the case that with every new torture, with every new thing that was done to her, especially to her mammaries that she suffered a little bit more. Each one was worse than the last – and so on and so on. But that was no excuse – that was no excuse at all. These were her final exams and she should have been putting more effort into them. She should have been absorbing the pain and anxiety and the distress willingly and without thought for herself in order to pass those finals. Of course it wouldn't be easy – of course it hurt. But if Jugsalina was used to anything by now it was the fact that EVERYTHING hurt and that was just the way it was going to be. By the time she had finished yelping, and then juddering and shaking from the electric shocks from that one spike to the one udder, her knees had given way and she was on her knees. Instead of stooping over the row of spiked columns she was on her hands and knees – trying gently to take her tit meat off the spikes. Even that hurt – she sobbed even through that – but she smiled at the same time. Even if that smile was a little less positive she smiled. The silktex inside her gripped her deeper feminine bits and then squeezed. Not a lot, just a little bit to let her know that she needed to put a bit more effort into her smile. And she did that – remarkably she did that. One might guess that with all that had happened not many people, least of al Jugsalina would realise just how much progress she had made. It wouldn't have even entered her mind that before this little chapter in her life – before Wendy had 'ensnared' her and before she had been put through all that she had been put through, there was no way that the most important thing in her life had been to smile through any amount of pain, and discomfort, and humiliation and degradation that she might have experienced. And yet – that had become a fact. Her whole world had been turned upside down and unbeknown to her she was being subconsciously 'trained' to smile though adversity and through her 'rebirth'. Also, before this chapter, she would never have thought that her breasts, her udders, her mammaries would have been the very central thing in her life – that they would become the most important thing in her life. That she in fact would become secondary to her breasts – that her breasts would be the most important thing. Never did she think that she would feel that she would be nothing without her breasts. But that is what she had become – that is what she had been reduced to. Nothing without her mammaries. So, she had made progress – she was not the same person that she had been all that time ago – however long all that time ago was. Somehow and for some reason time had ceased to mean much at all. Maybe that was why she failed to see the progress that she had made. Maybe that was why everything that happened to her and to her udders was such a trauma for her – such a torture. Because she could not see that she was heading to what she was destined for. NOTHING! Nothing that is except a pair of breasts on probably the best legs in the universe.
Even on her knees, carefully picking the flesh from the spikes that had pierced and then shocked her flesh into oblivion she was sobbing wishing she could just wake up from the nightmare. She had failed her final exams even at that point. She was smiling – she was smiling a lipstick smile wide – and yet the tears were streaming to – she knew that in failing that one test she had failed the whole lot. All of the tasks had to be passed – without fail in order for her to get a pass out of her finals and out of Hooter School. She might have been pulled from the rest of the final exams at that point. But no – that didn't happen. She had to take each and every test that made up the finals. Even though she KNE
W that she had failed, she wasn't told officially and so she had to take each and every test knowing deep down that she had failed. That could have worked either way – it could have worked in that inside she gave up and just did the tests without thinking. Had she processed the options that way it might have been easier – it might have been a less traumatic time for her. Had she done in that way she might and probably would have sailed through the rest of the test. But she didn't. It seemed that she processed the failure as just that – FAILURE. And as a result of that it became harder to an almost impossible degree for her to compete the rest of the test. The Ice Test. The Heat Test. The Udder-Juggling test. All failed – all failed. Indeed on the Udder-Juggling test alone she had succeeded in repeatedly dropping her own mammaries instead of keeping them 'air-born' as it were. Having said that, in Dorothea's favour, she did try and try and try again. That desperation did come through – the desperation that she would not, or could not fail again. She had failed the first test and the second test and the third. But there was a kind of determination inside her and she seemed to see things at least a little bit different for the Udder-Juggling test and it was one that possible had she had some time to practice that she could have passed. She just needed that time. Unfortunately, time that she didn't have. Trying to haul up each of her udders into what must have seemed her impossibly small upturned hands, and then throw them up, one a time and catch them in the same hand was a little more than an impossible task. But it was an entertaining sight – for final exam observers to witness this once, prick teasing slut having to utilise her mammaries in this way, and then failing. Time after time after time failing. The failing was one thing – but the failing time after time after time at the same task was the most debilitating to Jugsalina herself. It was just a task that she could not do without letting all of that flesh overspill her tiny hands and without all of that flesh simply pouring through her spread fingers. She had to spread her fingers in order to spread out some of that weight. But it wasn't realistic that she could toss the flesh up so that it literally cleared her hands and then for it to ripple through the air and then cascade all back down to her hands and then to catch and balance it all without it all falling off those tiny upturned hands was probably a step too far.
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