Chapter 5
As the days wore on, Wendy found herself gradually adjusting to prison life. The ceramics shop was a lot more fun and entertaining than she could ever have dreamed. Occasionally, she would show up early and she and Mark would retire to his small office to fuck. Besides the sexual training the blonde teenager was getting, Wendy also found she had a natural talent for this sort of craftwork. Even the other girls complimented her on it. Thoughts of Ms. Burns and the other matrons slowly disappeared from her mind. She saw them eyeing her from time to time. But no one seemed to bother her.
Wendy did as she was told, keeping her nose to the grindstone and out of trouble. The one or two girls who ignored Ms. Burns' warnings paid dearly for it. She saw them at times with strange marks on their arms and faces. Wendy shuddered then, guessing what strange kinds of torture the matrons had put them through.
The third week of her confinement began as usual. After Monday morning breakfast, Wendy, Jackie and two others left the cafeteria for the ceramics shop. The blonde teen was anxious to see Mark this morning. She had several ideas for some new pottery. Besides, the girl knew he had plans for her after class-something the other girls, including Jackie, accepted without question or comment.
But when they stepped from the cafeteria to the main corridor, they saw that something had happened out of the ordinary. Two tall matrons in white stood on either side of the opened door to the ceramics shop. Wendy stopped, feeling her flesh crawl. The old fears about Ms. Burns and the prison returned to her in a flash. Her times with Mark had been only an oasis in this insane asylum. Thoughts like that one rushed through her head as the two bullish women came toward them.
"Wendy, Jackie, come with me. You others go inside and start on your work."
The order fell on Wendy's mind like a death sentence. Stealing a glance at Jackie as the two young girls marched in front of the matrons, Wendy could see her friend thought the same thing. If Ms. Burns knew what was going on, she was going to stop it now. If she didn't, then . . . then, oh, God, there would be punishment for their actions!
"Wait!"
Jackie and Wendy stopped just in front of the main office while one of the women stepped in and closed the door behind her. Wendy wanted to talk to Jackie, anything to break the deadly silence hanging around them. But the other matron stood by, ready to stop any communication between the two girls.
"This way," the first matron said, stepping from the office and walking in front of them.
Wendy looked curiously at Jackie. Where were they going? She expected to be led into the office and abused by the headmistress. Now they were walking away, moving down a smaller corridor. Wendy recognized the gym to one side. And still they walked, passing through corridors now unfamiliar to her.
"Solitary," Jackie whispered as they started descending a set of concrete stairs. The walls were damp and cold and the air chilled Wendy's bones. Solitary! They were going to be locked up in some horrible dark cell! She'd heard about the special discipline cells. Some of the girls told stories about terrible punishments inflicted on inmates who had done next to nothing! Now those stories flared up in her mind as she and Jackie moved along the basement corridor. A string of yellow, bare light bulbs barely lit up the narrow passageway.
"Here," the first matron said, fishing out the iron ring of keys from her pocket and turning one in the lock of a green iron door. "Inside, girls."
Wendy had expected to see rows of grim, barred cell doors. Instead she found herself standing in a low-ceilinged room of about twenty-by-thirty feet. The floor, walls and ceiling seemed to come from one concrete cast. Another door at the opposite end of the room led out.
"Go on, girls, inside."
Wendy noticed several drains in the floor and there were iron rings hung from stakes driven in the walls. Four bright lights barely illuminated the place. There was an evil, sinister feeling about this room.
"Sit down . . . both of you," the second matron said, slamming the door shut with a loud bang. "Ms. Burns will be in shortly to deal with you."
"But we've done nothing," Wendy countered in a quavering voice.
"Oh?" the second matron said, raising her eyebrows and looking at Wendy in mock surprise as she patted her tightly coiled blonde hair. "Strange, that's not what we hear. Mr. Laughlin, it appears, has been giving you his favors. Both of you," she said, including Jackie in her sweeping gaze.
"What are you doing?" Wendy asked as the second matron reached into a battered, dark green cabinet and pulled out several lengths of half-inch manila line.
"Just a formality, girls. But we've got to tie you."
"Please," Jackie pleaded, her eyes widening with terror as the matrons started tying the two girls up.
"You've known all along what's been happening with him," Wendy pleaded. Why should they be so upset now? Surely Ms. Burns couldn't have been ignorant about Mark and his use of the girls in his workshop.
"Ms. Burns will explain later," the first matron said, slipping the rough rope around Wendy's wrists, tying them so tightly the girl could feel her fingers grow cold immediately. The older woman then fastened the free end of the rope to the back of the wooden chair. It was far too late to struggle. Wendy jerked her head around and saw Jackie had already been hog-tied, her ankles tied to the two front legs of the chair.
"Oh, my God!" Wendy cried to herself, feeling her legs being pushed apart then tied to the chair.
Time and time again she told herself she had nothing to fear. Surely the headmistress knew what was happening. She couldn't hold them responsible for Mark and his actions. Mark! What would they do to him? She stared at the two husky matrons, their tits and thighs pressing hard against the white material of their uniforms. Castrate him? Nothing they did would surprise Wendy!
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone walking down the hall. There was a turning of the lock, then Ms. Burns was standing like some kind of monster in the doorway.
"Good morning, girls. I see everything's in order," Ms. Burns said, stepping in and smoothing down her tightly tied-back hair and shutting the door behind her.
"Why?" Wendy asked, her forehead wrinkling in despair.
"There doesn't have to be a reason. But I suppose you feel you're entitled to one," she said with a sigh. "Light up, Hilda, and work on that one first," Ms. Burns said, pointing to Wendy. "I've known about Mr. Laughlin for some time now and tolerated it simply because it amused me. You know I've listened to everything that's happened in that office of his for the past year. Electronic listening devices are so easy to come by today. You can pick them up at almost any hardware store," the woman said, looking at the two staring girls with amusement. "You thought you were all so clever, didn't you? Oh, dear, well I just grew tired of Mark and his little kingdom. It's time to break up his little game. Of course, I know it would be difficult if I just closed down the shop and forced you girls to work elsewhere. You've got to associate him with pain."
At the last word, Ms. Burns' eyes glittered while her body shuddered just a little. Wendy caught it and felt her body shiver in response. Darting a quick glance over at Hilda, she saw the woman light a cigarette and puff on it until the tip glowed bright red.
"Now."
Hilda moved in front of Wendy, then dropped to her knees, reaching forward and sliding the dress up to her waist.
"No!" the girl shouted.
"Why should you be so suddenly modest? You've had that dress pulled off you enough times before," Ms. Burns said dryly.
Wendy shuddered as Hilda worked her fingers over her thighs, obviously excited by Wendy's helplessness. The acrid smoke from the cigarette held loosely in the matron's lips stung her eyes and nose. Wendy twisted her face away from the older woman, moaning low in her throat when she felt several fingers stray over her cunt.
"No, don't, take your hands off . . . aaaiiieeeyyye!"
The scream tore from the girl's throat. Her body stiffened, then jerked wildly in the confines of her rope bonds. Jackie cried out in sympathetic terror as the blonde teen's chair scraped several inches across the concrete floor. Her pussy quivered with pain. The matron had pulled out several cunt hairs from her pussy. It felt as if someone had stuck hot needles into her cunt! Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks. Vainly, the young blonde tried to snap her knees together. The ropes around her ankles prevented her from covering her injured pussy.
"Too bad about your disobedience. This is only a taste of what you'll get," Ms. Burns said, her eyes glowing with sexuality. The second matron moved over to Jackie and hiked up the girl's garment, kneeling in front of her and tugging at her pussy lips until the brunette was screaming with pain and humiliation.
"Hilda's very good at plucking out your cunt hairs one by one. And each time you feel one jerked out of your pussy, just think of Mark-Mark and his wonderful cock. Think of the way he fucked you, of the way he made you suck his cock, Jackie," Ms. Burns said in a loud voice, making sure the girls could hear her above their cries.
Wendy felt the matron's fingers poking around her crotch once more as she picked out another small cluster of hairs. She squealed, bouncing her ass around the chair, snapping her head back and seeing stars pop in front of her eyes. Behind her, she could hear Jackie joining her in shrieks of protest and pain.
"I can't stand it!" Wendy cried, dropping her head on her chest when the last cluster of pussy hairs was torn out.
"The cigarette," Ms. Burns said, her lips curling up into a broader smile.
Hilda nodded, tucking the blonde's skirt up around her waist, then taking another long drag on the cigarette before pulling it away from her lips. Wendy stared at the glowing tip, her eyes widening when she realized what was going to happen.
"Please, no, no, anything but that. I can't stand pain! Please!"
Her heart pounded wildly as Hilda and Ms. Burns smiled in approval. The big matron moved the glowing tip between Wendy's spread legs, pushing it up to her hairy cunt, laughing softly as she watched the blonde, curly pussy hairs singe under the heat.
"Oh, no! No!" the girl cried, rubbing her wrists together, pulling at the ropes until they cut into her flesh, trying to get away from the hellish heat.
"There."
"AIYEEEEE!"
Wendy's head jerked to one side. Hilda was tracing the glowing tip of the burning cigarette over her inner thighs, then moving it along one bulging tendon right up to the edge of her cunt lips. In a second, the girl felt the burning heat of the cigarette.
"OWWWWW!" the girl moaned.
And yet there was something pleasurable, insanely pleasant about what was happening to her! Yes, there was pain . . . unspeakable pain as the cigarette continued to burn into her flesh.
"AIYEEEEEEE!"
Wendy could actually feel her cunt contracting, not so much in pain as in pleasure. She felt the juices boiling up inside her, wetting down the inner edges of her swelling pussy lips. She clenched her teeth, grinding them hard as the cigarette moved toward the center of her wet cunt hole.
The women were enjoying her suffering, smiling as she grimaced and screamed. Behind her, Jackie was moaning. The other woman had not yet touched a cigarette to her cunt. Instead, they were letting the girl watch Wendy's torture.
"Ughhhhh!"
"What a shame that white skin is going to be burned," Ms. Burns said.
Scarred for life? The possibility made Wendy squirm even harder, begging them to stop. But her cries only fired their determination to cause more pain.
"Perhaps we should begin the other punishment," Hilda said, withdrawing the cigarette for a moment. Wendy felt her muscles relax.
"Not yet," Ms. Burns ordered.
The cigarette hovered over her cunt, sometimes drawing near and making her pussy wince, sometimes backing down. Sweat drenched her body. Shock after shock ripped Wendy's body. She writhed in her chair, the matron keeping the cigarette only an inch away from her bloated cunt lips. The older woman could see what was happening to the blonde teenager. She saw the confusion and tension in Wendy's face and smiled in triumph.
"OHHHHH!"
It was Jackie's voice. Wendy opened her eyes and twisted her head around. She saw her friend jerking in her bonds, snapping her head from side to side, her face half hidden by her flailing long hair. The other matron was burning her now with another cigarette. Was the brunette teen feeling the same confusing rush of feelings Wendy had? Was her cunt growing hot and tight under the constant attack?
"NOOOOOOO!"
Wendy screamed louder than before, twisting and sobbing in her bonds as the lighted cigarette sizzled against her furry cunt. It felt as if a sharp surgical knife were cutting into her, slicing tiny slits in her pussy. The sensation raced up, up, up into her cunt like a raging fire.
"NOOOO, GOD, NOOOO!"
But Wendy couldn't help the pleasure, the unholy, insane pleasure she felt now. It combined oddly with the pain, producing a weird, intense sensation that made her clit vibrate like a struck tuning fork. She was being stretched as thin as a tightly pulled wire. She squealed and twisted on the chair, wishing she could snap her knees together and rub her cunt lips over her clit. She was drifting up to the sky like a balloon. And then the fiery pain went away.
Peering down at the partially burned thicket of her golden cunt hairs, Wendy realized her juices had extinguished the tip of the cigarette. Hilda looked down at the black lump of charcoal now gracing the end of the cigarette and smiled.
"Our little girl is hot . . . hot enough to try Bruno, no?" Ms. Burns nodded in affirmation. "Untie her. I'll get the dog. Keep the other one tied," Ms. Burns said, walking through the room and unlocking the opposite door.
"Dog?" Wendy asked as Hilda untied her wrists, then moved behind to undo her ankles.
"Yes. It's a way to make sure you girls obey. Jackie here has heard of it, haven't you?"
The brunette's eyes widened and she stared terrified at Wendy.
"Oh, God, they're going to make you . . . make you do things with him."
Before Jackie's words settled within Wendy's mind, the rear door opened once more and Ms. Burns reappeared with a large, black Doberman in tow. Wendy shivered, rubbing her fingers up and down her forearms. A silver-studded black leather collar was fastened snugly around the animal's throat. Attached to it was a long leash presently held by Ms. Burns. The older woman slammed the door shut, then tugged sharply on the leash.
"Come on, Bruno, we have a new friend for you," the headmistress said, clicking her tongue against her cheek while smiling at Wendy. "He's anxious to meet you, dear."
Wendy sat on the edge of her chair, staring with horror at the animal. Jackie's words shot through her mind now. Ms. Burns, the animal, it all made a kind of insane sense. To gratify some perverse desire, the headmistress was going to make her fuck the dog!
"No, I won't! I swear, you'll have to shoot me before I . . . "
"Before you what? Have you ever been in solitary, Wendy? Do you know about the rats and other things crawling around down there? Do you want me to clap you up in one of those cells until you cooperate?"
"No!" the girl said, feeling despair rising like a wave in her.
"Good. Take off your shift."
Reluctantly the girl stood up, eyeing the big animal as she reached down, crossed her arms and pulled her shift over her head.
"Beautiful body," Ms. Burns murmured, her fingers tensing around the leash. "Enjoy it, Bruno," the woman said, reaching down and unsnapping the hook from the collar. The big animal twisted his head around and looked wonderingly at Ms. Burns. Then realizing what he was expected to do, Bruno barked sharply, turned back around and started marching toward Wendy.
"No, no, I won't," the girl whispered to herself, edging around the chair. She looked at Jackie who seemed to be praying for her. The Doberman cocked his head, the short hairs on the back of his neck bristling up while a low growl came from his throat. Wendy raised one hand to her throat protectively as the dog tracked her as if she were his prey.
"No!" the girl cried, raising one hand in the air as if she were going to slap him. The Doberman stopped for a second, his pointed ears pricked forward. Then he lunged forward. Wendy screamed in terror, twisting around and running. She screamed in despair when she felt the dog's hot breath against her leg. There was nowhere to run. She was trapped, the true prey of the growling, snapping Doberman.