Chapter 2
When Regina woke up it was many hours later. The room was completely dark. No light seeped in from anywhere. For a long time she just lay on the floor.
On her wrists there still lay the electric cords which had bound her during the terrible ordeal inflicted by Miss Ross. She thought of Miss Ross and began to cry.
Why, she thought, had her friend been so cruel to her? Why had she turned on her like that?
Her body still ached from the beating and her asshole felt as if someone had been probing it with a poker. She lay on the cold tiled floor. She could feel her own blood and sweat coating the slippery hard surface.
She was dressed just as she had been when the episode ended. She had on the corset and the high-heels. For a long time she just lay like that on the floor in the dark.
The dark was like the feeling she had had when Susan was beating her. It felt frightening but it felt good. To just give herself up to the dark was what she told herself she wanted.
Her back ached. Her knees were all bruised from the edge of the chair. But the bruises and the aches were nothing compared to pleasing Susan. To let her do those things to her was a full pleasure unto herself.
To be taken and hurt made her feel right and warm as she lay there in the dark. Now that Susan had left her in the dark like this she longed for her return.
Yet during the wonderful beating, did it hurt so much? she thought. Susan was so angry at her. Was she really that angry? All the curses and pain made her feel so good. But yet, did it have to be that way. Why could not things be nice?
Regina thought back on what happened to Jennifer the day before. She smiled a little to think of her own skepticism about Morgan's beating Jennifer. But even though she had been such a child to have thought such things could not go on, there was something strange in the way Jennifer told her tale.
It was as if she had left out some vital element in the stew.
All of a sudden it struck Regina, that perhaps Jennifer liked being beaten very much indeed. Perhaps she really dug it! That was it!
Why else would Jennifer seem so eager to return, so loath to warn Regina about what happened. In the dark Regina began to feel the dark of her mind creeping around her.
If Susan could turn on her, then why couldn't Jennifer do the same thing? Maybe Jennifer, Morgan and Miss Ross were in this whole thing together to take advantage of her. Regina lay there in the dark feeling very sorry for herself and filled with suspicion.
It occurred to her that it would be so easy to trick her. She was such a ninny sometimes, she thought. No one in high school really liked going out with her because she never knew the score. All the other girls always seemed so wise and worldly but she always seemed dumb.
Now her best friend and new friend both seemed to be taking advantage of her again. How could life be so cruel sometimes.
But like a small animal burrowing in the dark, the truth impinged itself upon her. She really liked being beaten. How was she any different from Jennifer? she accused herself. What was so special about her? After all, she enjoyed it too. It was just that Jennifer, as always, was more in touch with herself.
There was something so nice about being told and made to please. To feel the power of Miss Ross was so thrilling. It was just that it hurt so much at the end. Regina wondered if that was right. Why does it have to hurt so much when you give in, she thought.
Regina lay like that for a long time when the door began to open. The crack of bright light widened across the floor. It was blinding after the total darkness of her room.
In the light of the doorway was silhouetted the tall form of Morgan. His height was emphasized by her position on the floor. He looked tall, imposing and not a little frightening.
As soon as she saw him she burst into tears. Crawling across the floor she grabbed onto his legs and clutched them. She tried to speak but her sobs made the words unformable.
"What's the matter, my dear?" Morgan said in a kindly voice.
For all she wanted to say something, she could not speak. She became terrified he would go away. She clutched even tighter to his legs.
"Now what on earth could be wrong?" Morgan said with a little impatience. He picked her up and carried her to one of the couches just outside the door. In his arms she looked at the haughty, slightly effeminate carriage of his head. She felt his strong arms and powerful chest supporting her effortlessly.
He sat down on the couch with her cradled in his arms. She continued to sob softly. He held her impassively. She wanted to tell him what had happened, but there were doubts in her mind whether or not to confide in him. While she was still considering whether or not to speak, Morgan solved her dilemma.
"I guess my young lady, you must be wondering why Miss Ross found it necessary to beat you?" he said. "Of course you're all black and blue and scratched. I think you deserve an explanation."
When Regina heard him talking like this she became so ashamed and embarrassed she could not look at Morgan.
"No," she stammered, "you don't owe me an explanation."
"I know how you must feel my dear," he said. "Of course we owe you something."
In truth all Regina's anger and indignation melted away as soon as Morgan had begun talking. Somehow she was embarrassed by talking about what had happened. Perhaps her own desire for the humiliation was showing through.
Rather abruptly Morgan's tone changed. He became more stern and harsh.
"It is sometimes necessary here," he said, "to show our students exactly who is boss. Of course you see we couldn't run any kind of school if everyone just did what they wanted. There has to be discipline."
"In your case it is especially important. You are so young and vulnerable. But at the same time you are irresponsible. You must understand that we run a tight ship here. No slackers and complaining allowed.
"You will have to learn to obey orders. It is really for your own good. We don't want anyone to take advantage of you."
His high, rather piping voice had grown more intense as he talked. By the time he finished, he was holding Regina very tightly and talking right into her upturned face.
"You are very pretty, but you are very bad. You will learn this is not a permissive home. We do not tolerate bad children. You will be broken of these bad habits.
She felt terror creep into her stomach as he talked. It was cold and he must have seen it in her eyes. A sneer gently formed on his lips. He looked down at her.
"See," he said, "you are afraid of what you know you deserve. Just like all the others. Why can't you be brave?"
At that Regina began to weep again. She did not feel strong. She wanted him to take care of her. But this cold looking beast would do nothing but stare down at her.
"But what about Jennifer?" she cried, not knowing what else to say.
"What about that little slut?" Morgan jammed back. "That curly-headed bitch crawled and cried well enough when I put the brush to her. Just because she is your friend don't think she's anything special. You'll see.
"I could feel her juice come through her panties. She was squealing and squalling but she loved it. The way she moved when I dug into her was the kicker. She squirmed but she dug it. They all do."
"But I don't understand. Jennifer didn't like what you did to her, " Regina lied to Morgan.
"Cut the shit," he said. "You dug it too when Miss Ross put it to you. That strap crashing down brought ecstasy to your face. I was watching through the two-way mirror. Those blows really turned you on."
Regina was wrestling with herself. She wanted so much to talk to Morgan. Yet she was embarrassed about her own weakness and afraid he would find her childish.
"You know I never made it with anyone in my life," she said. "I was always afraid. While everyone else was out having fun, I was home doing nothing. All the girls seemed to get to do all kinds of nice things, but not me.
"I was always so afraid. I never knew what to do or what to think. I only really came to beauty school because Jennifer wanted to come. I didn't want to stay home, that was horrible. So I tagged along with Jennifer. She always seems to know what to do.
"But now I don't know. The only way to find out what I want seems to be to try it. But I'm still so confused.
"You know, I've never even come. At least I don't think I have. I mean, I've felt nice when someone kissed me. Sometimes I rub myself, but isn't coming something special? Don't you know it when it happens?
Morgan had not said a word while Regina talked. He just held her in his arms on the couch. Then he slowly moved his hand down her beautiful back and undid the leather ties on the corset. He helped Regina slip out of it and also took off her tight shoes.
"Doesn't that feel better now?" he said.
"Yes," she sighed.
"The only way to feel better," he said, "is to listen to me. Just relax and listen to me."
Regina let her mind wander. She remembered her home in the suburbs. It was just a little house with five people. There was her mother and father and two sisters. Nothing really special about them at all.
Her father was tall and darkly handsome. Her mother was also tall and bigboned. Regina never really liked her very much. She was not very nice to any of the daughters. But Regina adored her father.
She remembered dreaming of running away with him and having him all to herself. She always thought he would take care of her. She remembered wondering why none of the other boys she knew treated her like her father.
No one else ever took care of me, she thought. They all made me feel foolish except my daddy. He was so nice it made her warm inside to think of him even now.
He wouldn't let someone like Miss Ross take advantage of her. But then she wouldn't be able to tell him about Miss Ross. She'd be much too ashamed to admit to him that she got involved in this kind of situation. Especially since she knew deep down she played some part in desiring it. If he ever knew about that she would just die.
Slowly she became aware Morgan was moving her around. He slipped on a pair of very brief tight rubber panties which clung to the curves of her hips and thighs. Then he turned her over on her back. She lay there across his knees looking up at the ceiling.
He put one arm across the front of her thighs and another across her neck. Then slowly he began pushing her down. He bent her back and forth. The further back she went the more her scratches and bruises pained her.
When she tried to resist he pressed his arm down hard on her neck. She gagged and could hardly breathe. She bucked even more and he snapped her back into a curving arch around his knees.
"That hurts," she managed from her throat.
"Oh no, that doesn't hurt half as much as this will," Morgan said.
So saying, he slipped out from his breast pocket a long black plastic styling comb. It looked like a black alligator snout. Tapering from a large end to a small, it nestled naturally in his practiced hand.
"Would you like a styling job my dear," he chuckled. "You know a lot of women pay for what you are getting for nothing. You should consider yourself very lucky."
With that he rammed the small fine toothed end of the comb up her still tender asshole. She screamed a bloody howl and tensed her whole body. But Morgan was almost oblivious to her thrashing.
His strength was so much greater than even her bronco bucking. He held her firmly around the neck and under the shoulder with his left hand. With his right he thrust the comb this way and that making Regina dance and jerk like some marionette.
Tears came to her eyes as the pain seared up in intensity. She could think of nothing but the jagged poker up her shit-hole.
"Oh I can tell you like that," Morgan laughed. He accented the word "that" by shoving the comb in all the way to the hilt. The wide end of the comb tore at the brown and red opening to her anus. Blood began to dribble down the cleft of her ass and down the creases of her buttocks.
With the last thrust she screamed as loud as she could. But as soon as the scream had left her lips, Morgan drew back his left hand and smashed his fist into the side of her jaw.
Her head rattled back and forth. The pain in her face matched that stabbing up her middle. The blow brought more tears to her eyes. The tears seemed to excite Morgan, for he redoubled his jabs. She could feel his stiffened member against the small of her back. His stomach heaved with his labored breathing.
"Since you like it so much up your ass," he leered "I bet you'll like it even more up your filthy snatch."
He gave the comb a savage twist inside her rectum and pulled it out sideways. In the same motion he brought the comb down across her erect clit.
This felt like something she had never imagined. A pain at the same time so rending and so pleasurable that she did not know whether to faint from agony or ecstasy. Before the sensation had barely subsided, Morgan took her clit in his now empty hand and pressed it between his long and finely manicured fingernails.
The pain and the pleasure mingled. Then Morgan pressed harder and harder. She felt as if her throbbing organ would be sliced in two. Yet she could not help but press against this tormentor.
She bulged her ample vulva up against his finger even as he crushed her tiny helpless pleasure font. The tearing pain only made her move back and up, down and forward even faster.
"Now maybe you'll believe me when I say you will learn to take orders," Morgan said. "No one fails to submit here. You can't escape me. You don't want to escape me. Look at your face. It's contorted with pleasure like you've never known in all your miserable life. Deep in your heart you thank me."
Her rubber bikini panties were smooth and warm with the blood from her asshole. He reached deep into her crack and smeared his hand full of the red slime. Then he smeared his hand from her clavicle to her belly button. He took special care to bloody her breasts.
When she moaned as he rubbed her bloody nipples, he slapped her three times flush on the cheeks. She shut up.
She was barely conscious now. Her whole body was a pain center. She felt ripped open up the middle and completely at his mercy. She did not fight this feeling. She rather enjoyed the feeling. It was only the pain she minded when it was happening. But she loved the feeling.
So she was not displeased when he rudely threw her torso off onto the floor and stood up holding her by the calves. His strong hands held her securely as he dragged her across the smooth, cold floor.
Her hands and arms lolled over her head as he dragged her. Back through the door into the room in which Miss Ross had thrashed her.
He paused to close and lock the door behind them. Then he dragged her over the same barber chair and threw her into it.
Her head lay back against the chair as Morgan bound her wrists and ankles with electrical cord. He tied her wrists together with the cord in back of the chair. He tied her feet to the footrest of the chair.
She was only semi-conscious while this was going on but she did not resist at all. She wondered what he was going to do to her. But the wonder was with a degree of detached excitement and titillation.
"Now you just sit there and be a good girl," Morgan said. "You better not get any ideas about trying to get away or you might get hurt."
Regina's head was swimming. Red came in front of her eyes. Everything came to her in a fog of dizziness. There was numbing pain in her extremities. The cords bound tightly around her wrists and ankles.
Morgan approached her with a serious look on his face.
"I'm going to give you a little something which will make you behave," he said. "The only way you will learn is by experience.
From out of a leather pouch he took a handful of large hair clips. He gently pinched the flesh above Regina's right breast and clipped the powerful clip to the fold. He smiled to see the look of discomfort cross her face. She looked down at the clip, but said nothing.
One by one he attached the clips all over the front of her chest. He took special delight in attaching a cluster to her nipple. He attached one to the front of each nipple so she looked like a cow at milking time.
Alongside each clipped nipple he pinched the convoluted brown tissue to make a mooring for two or three other clips. The dimpled flesh of her ample and exciting breasts was strained and bruised by the clips.
Then all up and down the indentation over her ribs, he found flesh to attach the clips. As he put more and more there was less and less play in the supple surface of her body. She felt like a drumhead pulled tighter and tighter.
Morgan began pinching the folds of her belly and the flesh over her hips. He clipped each fold after gouging her. All the while he cursed her under his breath.
"Fucking cunt," he said, "give me some of that. You don't think I mean business. But you'll feel these clips in a little while.
He was right. The clips which did little more than stick when he first put them on began to throb. The longer they stayed on the more they hurt. The ones around her taut rosy nipples were the most painful of all.
Regina's belly heaved as she twisted against the bonds. The more she heaved the more he tortured her lovely satin flesh.
Between his fingers he pinched savagely the pocket of lovely fat below her bellybutton. She felt the cream come between her thighs. It was a feeling she had never known before. She writhed harder with the feeling.
Morgan saw the signs. He saw the deep flushed face, the short panting breath and the contorted face.
"So you don't like to be tortured do you?" he said mockingly. "That's what they all say. But when push comes to shove, they cream in their pants.
Regina could barely hear him. She was lost in a sea of pain and pleasure. She felt the dozens of little throbs of pain. She felt the brutal hands pulling her flesh. She felt the explosions through her middle.
"Don't stop," she moaned, "please, don't ever stop." Morgan worked out with his long fingers and the clip on her wildly moving form. He tore and clawed among the hair clips. Then he drew his hand back and slapped her viciously across the face and tits.
Her thighs were quivering and she was straining against the cords. Morgan seemed lost in a frenzy of passion. His cool demeanor was gone completely. He moved frantically beating and pummeling.
He reviled her as a slut and trampy cunt. All this was music to Regina. She was flying over a golden sea of pleasure. He could do anything to her and she would not care.
I'm lost, she thought. I'm lost and I don't care.
Morgan grasped the rubber panties and gave them a powerful tug. Away from her full belly and then back again with a snap they went. She moaned as the welt from the blow began already to rise.
Morgan stood massaging his cock under his uniform. He stood looking scornfully at her. Suddenly he brought up phlegm from deep in his throat and spat in on her. Again and again he spit. It went in her hair and face. It landed on her boobs and rolled down her awe-inspiring cleavage. She did not mind at all. The spit-paths down her body made her tingle.
Morgan came up behind the chair and looked down into her face.
"Tell me Miss Spit-face, that you don't like it," he said. "I dare you to tell me you don't like it."
Regina sat there speechless. Her whole body was throbbing, and her mind buzzed with sensation. She did like it. She loved it. The warm exploding feeling was the only thing that mattered.
He made her feel whole. His curses and beating only made her feel more intensely. There was nothing for her to do but surrender to the wonderful feeling. Fuck all this shit about right and wrong, she thought.
No one had ever made her feel like that. All those pimply kids with their pawing hands never made her go all weak and jelly inside.
Morgan looked as if he were reading her mind. He grabbed her roughly under the chin and held her head back. She did not resist one bit.
"You've learned and now I think you'll do just as you're told," he said. "One other thing. If I find you have revealed any of what went on today you will find yourself a most sorry young lady. I promise I will beat you within one inch of your pretty little life. Perhaps past it. Do you understand?"
Regina understood. But right then, the prospect of being beaten held only wild expectation for her. She knew now that all her life had been leading up to this. All the wasted years of getting nothing from anyone. All that was over now.
Now she knew that to please was her aim. To please Morgan and Susan was her goal. It did not matter what she had to do to do it. They were so strong they always gave her the pleasure of their attention. She did not even have to ask them to get what she wanted. It was all so perfect.
Just as she was musing so, Morgan began ripping the clips from her body. Each one had little teeth on it and tore tiny pieces of her pink flesh out. One by one in single ecstatic tears he removed them from her body.
What else could he do now, she thought foggily. What was left she had not experienced in this fiery baptism in passion? She was sure Morgan and Miss Ross would take care of her pleasure.
With each rip of a hair clip she became fainter. Morgan tightened his grip on her jaw and pulled it up and back. She began to grow warm again inside. The room swam before her. She could feel Morgan panting in her ear and the juice flowing down her pleasure hole.
Just as she passed out he tore the bunches of clips from each nipple. The burst of pain shot deep into her genitals and bounced back to her throat to be expressed as a groan.
"Rip it off," she cried. "More, hurt me more."