Kathy Andrews Collection

by Kathy Andrews

  “Nooooooofffffff!”

  Still having her eyes closed, Carla shook her head wildly from side to side. She wanted that cock to stay in her ass until the whole unnatural process of her climax was over. She was still spasming, still feeling the rumblings of cumming deep in her pussy. But Mike was slipping his softening prick from her asshole. Carla wept. His wide cockhead slipped out, puffing with it strings of his hot jizz. She could feel it dribbling down the back of her left leg.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhfffff!”

  Mike braced himself against her, catching his breath before reaching up and taking her right leg from the rape. She groaned with relief, rubbing her knees together while stretching the cramped, aching muscles of her thighs. Next came the straps around her wrists, then the rubber ball.

  “Oh God, God, what’ve I done?” Carla gasped, sinking to the floor. She crossed her arms over her tits, hugging her body tightly while covering her mouth with her trembling fingers.

  “I expect to see your daughter Krystal here within the week. You can come up too, to help her through,” Mike said, chucking her under the chin. “But Krystal will be here, or, trust me, you won’t be able to watch your back closely enough.”

  Carla shivered, staring up at his determined eyes. She knew he was telling the truth.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Mother! Don’t worry. I’ll be all right,” Krystal said, shrugging away from Carla’s attentive fingers. “I didn’t want to go to this creepy old school anyway. But that’s what you said I had to do. So, here I am.”

  Carla looked up at the forbidding building, wishing there were some way she could prevent her daughter from going. As soon as she had escaped from the administrative building one week ago, she had vowed not to send her daughter to this hellhole. But there were phone calls, even a visit from Mike one, afternoon at a local supermarket. He was having her followed, bothered, until she relented. The police were out of the question. There would be so many questions. Inevitably, Mike would tell them everything she had done — how she had enjoyed the fucking, how she had encouraged him to do those awful things to her. Yes, she might protect her daughter. But at a terrible price.

  Carla kept thinking there would be some way she could intervene. Perhaps she would convince Mike to use her and not her daughter for his games.

  She had conveniently forgotten, however, the sullen, beaten looks of the few girls she had seen at the school. Their uniforms were neatly pressed and they were well-dressed, she remembered. But there wasn’t the joy, the exuberance one would expect from girls their age.

  “I know what I wanted. But now I’m not so sure,” Carla said hesitantly, watching as her daughter moved in front of her. She was so young, no matter how well her body was developed. That was why she had sent her here. All the boys were staring at her, calling her. It was only a matter of time before someone “tried” something with Krystal. Perhaps strict schooling for some time would give her the sense of discipline she never had as a child. Discipline, yes. But this?

  “I might as well go in. I — oh, who’s that? He’s handsome!” Krystal cooed.

  It was Mike coming from the building. Inside, Carla could hear a school bell clanging. She looked up at the stud, seeing in his eyes the glow of a mocking triumph. She remembered the bite of his leather, the crush of his foot, the sneering, the laughter, the fucking! It all came back to her in a rush, and Carla nearly grabbed her daughter and threw her back in the car. Only that warning glance from Mike prevented her from doing anything.

  “So, this is Krystal,” he said, eyeing her mother. “She’s just like you, Mrs. Henniger. You two could be sisters.”

  Carla knew they could. More than once the two had been mistaken for sisters. Krystal was five-three, slender, with long, strong legs she had developed through swimming at the local country club pool. Her whitish blonde hair fell in lustrous strands around her narrow shoulders while her firm, young tits jutted invitingly upward from her chest. Her boyish waist, the jaunty way she walked, the way she carried her head — everything spoke of a young girl about to become a young woman. Carla trembled for her daughter, knowing the girl would be in Mike’s hands. But what could she do?

  “Come with me, Krystal. I want to show you around here for a moment. Your mother’ll come in to say goodbye in a while.”

  Krystal looked over her shoulder, shrugging, then following him in, dragging her two suitcases behind her.

  “You can leave them in there.” Mike said. “Mrs. Evans, will you take them to Krystal Henniger’s room?”

  A tall, severe-looking woman nodded sharply, eyeing the teen and making her feel uncomfortable for the first time since she had arrived in front of this place.

  “We pride ourselves on discipline,” Mike began, leading her down a corridor. There were small groups of girls walking quickly together, their heads bent down. Krystal frowned, looking at then, wondering why they wouldn’t look up at her. Most girls she knew would be dying of curiosity to see who the new person in school was. Krystal hesitated in her step, wishing she could go back, pick up her bats from that old witch in the office, and rush back to her mother’s car.

  “We have a full academic program here, of course. All the girls are schooled to pass the state’s exams. But above all things, Krystal, discipline.”

  He stopped in front of a door. The glass window had been frosted, making it impossible for her to peer inside.

  “Let’s go in. We have to get you your… uniform.”

  Before she could say a word, Krystal found herself thrust into the small room, the door slammed shut behind her and locked. She found herself alone in the tiny area, bare except for a single chair. Wheeling about, she reached don and rattled the doorknob. Locked! Locked in! She drew her hands to her lips, trembling. The room was cold, making her flesh pucker into goosepimples. She remembered now the fear in her mother’s eyes, the sense of regret in her voice. Her mother had known something was wrong here, something bad was happening. And yet she let her enter this building! What was going on?

  Minutes passed. Sitting on the chair, not daring to make a sound, Krystal tried to compose herself. She had to remain calm. Perhaps all her foreboding thoughts were silly. They did things differently here, that was all. In time she would get used to it. Besides, nothing lasts forever. She would be out of here soon, no matter what.

  Footsteps! She stood up from the chair, composing herself once more as the door opened. Mike was back with another woman.

  “This is Linda,” he said with a nod.

  Krystal acknowledged the pretty dark-haired older woman.

  “She’ll be handling you for a while until I return.”

  Mike left the room again. It was then Krystal really looked at Linda — a tall, attractive woman who moved with assurance and strength.

  “Mike thought you might be a little shy at this for the first time. Undress now and leave your things on the chair. You won’t be needing them, so I’ll take care of them for you.”

  “Wh-wh-what?”

  Krystal shook her head, not believing she had heard the order correctly. Undress? What kind of place was this? She had carefully chosen her wool outfit this morning, feeling she would wow the girls at school. And now this worn was telling her to undress?

  “I said, take off your clothes. Don’t disobey me, young lady, or you’ll have a bad time paying for it!” she snapped.

  Krystal flushed. She didn’t simply undress for anyone.

  Linda grew tired of her hesitation, and smacked her sharply across the face, backhanding the teen quickly. Krystal didn’t have time even to cry out, so unexpected was the attack. She staggered to one side, jerking up a hand to protect her cheeks. How they burned from the attack! Krystal felt tears of pain and indignation welling up in her eyes.

  “Don’t… don’t touch me like that!”

  “Then you’ll do as I say. There’s more where that came from if you don’t hurry,” Linda threatened.

  Krystal blinked back the tears, fumbling a
s she began stripping herself.

  “That’s better,” Linda said with satisfaction. Krystal still hesitated with her bra and panties, taking a long time draping her blouse and skirt neatly over the chair. “Everything,” Linda said, indicating her panties and bra with a sweeping gesture. Krystal reddened even more, pulling down her briefs, feeling terribly exposed while Linda smirked at her growing discomfort.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “I don’t see why you’re so worded about showing yourself off, Krystal,” she said, taking the bra and panties and laying them carefully on the chair.

  Krystal was humiliated, standing there, cupping her hands over her pussy mound.

  “You’ve got a fine body… nearly as fine as mine. I’m glad you’re that well-endowed,” Linda said. “It’ll make things a little easier for you here.”

  “Easier?”

  “You’ll find out. Now, please turn and put your hands behind your back.”

  Krystal obeyed, her bare feet starting to ache from having stood on the concrete floor for so long. She did as she was told. When she turned around she saw Linda had produced a fourteen inch length of cord.

  With experienced fingers, Linda looped the line around Krystal’s wrists and bound them firmly together. The girl gasped, her eyes widening as she bent over and tried to move her hands apart. What was going on? Again, she asked that question, trying to pull her wrists from one another. They were tying her up. For what reasons? She wasn’t a prisoner! Her mother would see her in this condition and demand she be released. There had to be some horrible mistake.

  “Now, you’ll come with me.”

  Krystal had known discomfort and embarrassment before. But nothing like this!

  Linda gripped her bare arm, opened the door and pushed her back into the hall. Krystal was terrified of meeting others in the hall. But it was deserted. The girls must be in class — or worse, she thought, wondering if they all had gone through this terrible initiation. Linda led her down another hall, this one far larger than the first. They stopped in front of an oak door with the words “Director of Scholastic Administration” embossed in the wood. Linda reached forward, pushing it open.

  “Step inside. I think you’ll find your mother there.”

  It was a comfortable study, luxuriously furnished. Krystal was mortified. There, sitting stiffly in a chair was her mother. Mike was sitting behind an ornate desk, a pleasant smile of welcome on his face. Carla let out a cry of horror, then tried to control herself as Mike gestured her to be quiet.

  Krystal felt herself become one big blush as she was positioned before Mike’s desk. With three pairs of eyes fixed on her, she fought the natural urge to shrink and cry. What was going on here? Why had her comfortable little world been shattered this cruelly? And for what reason?

  “I see you’ve been prepared for school. This is our uniform — for the novices, anyway, until they’ve been indoctrinated. Your mother approves. She feels you need some discipline before you go out into the world. I, in turn, agree.” Mike smiled at her.

  “Mother, what’s going on here? Why did you send me here?”

  “Enough of that!”

  Linda pulled a large white handkerchief from her pocket, flicked it open, then slipped it around the girl’s mouth. Krystal screamed, her cries muffled by the cotton as Linda tied it tightly around her head. Carla stood to protest. But again, Mike gestured for her to be seated.

  Krystal felt panic gripping her heart like an icy finger, her toes curling into the carpeting as she stood there bound and gagged before the small group.

  “People have different ideas about discipline. I, for one, believe in the firmest use of it. Your mother’s experienced some of my methods and approves of them, right Carla? It might happen that later on she can participate in some of them.”

  “You, you”

  Carla wanted to scream. But for the sake of her daughter she kept quiet, scratching her fingernail against the arm rest and wondering how she could rescue her daughter without creating a scandal.

  “If you behave you’ll find you can wear the uniforms to class. Otherwise, you’ll stay as you are now — bound and naked. Is that clear?”

  Krystal felt as if he were pronouncing a death sentence on her. Discipline? This was the discipline of the Nazi concentration camps! Once more, Krystal tried working the bonds from her wrists. But her movements were only making the chafing sensation worse.

  “Now, you’ll go with Linda. Carla, I think you can go home now. Your daughter’s in fine hands.”

  “Krystal…”

  It was the last thing she heard her mother say for a long time. Linda led her from the study quickly, pushing her down the corridor. Three more girls shuffled past, one of them as naked as she. The tall redhead shot her a sympathetic glance, then moved her eyes back to the floor. Krystal stumbled hurriedly, trying to keep pace with Linda.

  “Now, you go into the Training Room. Mike’s provided a program tailored to most girls’ needs. I think you’ll find this interesting.”

  It was a maze of halls, none of them having windows to the outside. Krystal looked around her frantically, feeling as if she had fallen into some private hellish nightmare from which she would never waken. More girls passed her, no one daring to look up. Then they came to another door, this one metal with studs all around the outside. Linda opened it, shoving the teen through.

  It was a large room. Widely spaced posts rose from the floor to the low ceiling. Against one of them, Krystal saw another teen bound, her body naked. The girl looked at them briefly, then returned her gaze to a short brunette who was also naked and was sobbing audibly. There were red marks on her sides and tummy, indications that someone had been beating her.

  “There.”

  Linda shoved her against a pillar, encircling Krystal’s waist with a strap, cinching it tightly. The “guard”, as Krystal was to think of her later, took off the handkerchief and wiped her lips with it.

  “There. You don’t have to look so worried, Krystal. That’s a very pretty name,” Linda said, smoothing two fingers over the girl’s tits.

  Krystal shivered, her back hurting from being pressed so hard against the pillar. The sobbing of the other girl grew worse, making Krystal nervous as she felt Linda’s hands caressing her.

  Maybe it was because she was so afraid, or perhaps it was because of a certain look in Linda’s eyes that triggered something dark inside her, but Krystal began feeling a kind of odd excitement rising in her. Linda could see it too and licked her lips, drawing closer to her.

  Linda’s errant hand was moving down pest her navel, caressing the fine downy hairs covering her white flesh, then reaching down into her cuntal hair. Krystal shuddered, rubbing her hands against her thighs, wanting to protest, but unable to find the words. Her flesh seemed to be covered with hundreds of prickly ants, her cunt lips starting to swell and moisten.

  “I… I don’t know what you’re doing to… to me, but stop!”

  Linda was about to speak. But she as interrupted by Mike’s sudden appearance.

  “Your mother left. She’ll join us, perhaps, later on in your training.”

  “I’ve taken care of her, Mike. She’s tied well to the post.”

  “Well, maybe, but not well enough. Not for someone, new to the school and its ways. Let me finish,” he said, taking more cord from Linda and moving behind the trembling blonde teen. “Oh, no, no, don’t touch me! You’re hurting me!” Krystal cried.

  It was a horrid nightmare. She felt the line drawn under her armpits and up over her shoulders, crossed behind her and knotted tightly. Krystal found herself held firmly, her shoulders wrenched back so that the cords bit deep and burned each time she sucked in a breath.

  “Uhhhh, it’s so… so tight!”

  “As I hope you are, Krystal.”

  “I think she’s a virgin. You want me to find out?” Linda asked, the corners of her lips curling into a broad smile.

  “Yes. Why don’t you do that? Krystal might thin
k I was doing something offensive if I reached in to check her cherry!”

  “No! No! Don’t touch me there! Oh, it’s not right! It’s just not right!” she screamed, feeling Linda’s fingers caressing her pussy, forcing the smooth pink lips apart and probing deep into her cuntal channel. Krystal reddened, sensing Linda’s finger corkscrewing up her pussy, her fingernail scraping her cuntal walls until it touched her tight little cherry.

  “She’s virgin, alright,” Linda said, her voice nearly breathless with excitement.

  “Good! At least you aren’t one of the incorrigibles we have here, girls who’ve prostituted themselves to every boy in town before coming here,” Mike said, stroking her hair caringly.

  He moved around, tightening the ropes, which made her tits stick out more provocatively. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them taut behind the post where he securely roped them with a slipknot so Krystal couldn’t move them at all. Next came her ankles, Linda bending down and cording them with two firm bands encircling both ankles. One leg was placed on either side of the post, enhancing her exposure.

  Krystal tried to move away from the post, easing the strain of the ropes against her body. But any kind of twist caused her more pain. In the end, she submitted, vowing to look for some kind of escape just as soon as she could.

  “Now, I think we’ve done our job for the moment,” Mike said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

  The two bound girls looked mutely at one another, companions in this mutual misery. School? Krystal could have laughed with wild derision at that thought. It was no more a school than San Quentin?

  “Hurts, does it?” Linda said, stroking the side of Krystal’s cheek.

  “Yes. Why are you doing this to me? I haven’t done anything.”

  “Oh, but you have, or your mother wouldn’t have dreamed of sending you here,” Linda countered, smacking her playfully on the ass.

  Krystal winced, her buttocks jiggling from the slap.

  “Besides with all the craziness going on out there in the world, a little bit of discipline certainly doesn’t hurt. Your mother was a wise woman sending you here,” Linda observed.