File: NUNTO.TXT
Chapter 2 of the St Cunatus saga

                         Nun too soon

For a long moment they all sat silently, each turning over the extraordinary
idea in their mind. Wendy, who had emerged from under the table and taken a 
seat when there had been no further requests for her oral services, shakes
her head disbelievingly. "Foo! Dream on you guys. But why don't you just
phone the damm number - you are never going to stop thinking about this
silly idea until you find out for sure that its a hoax or something.
There's got to be a snatch somewhere.... Oops! I meant a _catch_ somewhere."

Tony> "Yeah, why not, What harm can calling do? They're on the other side
of the world - its not like they are going to come round here and complain
to our mums that we're a bunch of perverts. All right....  Hmmm - its morning
there now, so no time like the present. Mike, pass me that phone, will you...
thanks. Ahhh.. listen, just in case this isn't a joke, let me do the talking.
The rest of you (he fixes Wendy with a stare) keep quiet."

As he dials the magic numbers to speak to someone at a girls seminary half
way round the world, Mike decides his still rigid cock could do with more
attention, and he pulls Wendy to him and motions for her to get back under
the table and get her mouth to work polishing his brassware.

The others had taken a moment to realise Tony was actually going to do it,
and several were just about to comment that perhaps a little forethought
and preparation might be a good idea, when Tony pantomimes that the call
has been answered. David, who had been just about to demand that Tony stop,
claps his hand to his forehead and mimes 'bloody idiot!'.

Tony, holding up his hand for silence, listens for a moment, then speaks>
"Ah good morning! This is Friar Biggens here, calling from Australia. ...
What? ... Yes, its not a very good line, is it! ... (louder) Is that better?
Oh fine.. What I'm calling about, is your advertisement in the Watchtower ...
Yes the one about new managers for your school .... yes, we got that over
here.  How have you gone with that? ... Oh, thats unfortunate, no enquiries
at all? ... I'm surprised, it sounds a worthy establishment. ... Can you not
stay on longer then? ... My, that is soon! ... No, no, I can understand that,
commitments.... .... Still, perhaps we can help... No, this is not yet an
official approach, the matter has not as yet been discussed by our order....
Its a possibility... yes. ... Oh my appologies, we're the, uh Friars of
the Order of St Pene 'a Trent." He grimaces at this rather clumsy and much
too suggestive improvisation, obviously wishing he'd thought to make up
something better beforehand. There is a silent collective groan from the
others, and Garth gives him the raised finger. "Ah, we've been running an
orphanage here for many years, but the numbers have been falling in recent
times, what with the fortunate decline in illegitemate births. Unfortunately
we are partly government funded... yes, most difficult... In fact, our
work here is pretty much completed. ... Mixed sexes.. No, it has not
presented any problems ... I feel that our maintenance of strict discipline
in the home has been to thank for that. .... Yes, absolutely, society is
often far too relaxed about such things. ... Indeed..  No, we could quite
happily relocate, I'm sure I speak for all the Brothers and Sisters when
I say we would welcome a change of scenery from the city here. ... Well,
perhaps if you could send some details of your school and its staffing
requirements, I could bring the matter up at our planning meeting... Ah,
yes, that schedule doesn't leave much flexibility... still, the Lord moves
in wondrous ways.. I could try to call a meeting as soon as your materials
get here? Do you have email? No? Oh well, I expect you're a bit cut off from
such things out there..... Oh.... Really? Fibre! Excellent! Certainly, you
may fax them, the number here is 02 6945 3452. Australia... thats country
prefix 612... Good! I'll look forward to it. ... Perhaps we shall indeed
meet soon. ... Well thank you.. Yes, goodbye then....." He puts the phone
down, and suddenly everyone at the table is talking at once. Or more like
shouting at once.

Garth> "St Penetrent! The patron saint of penetration! You dickwad, don't
you think that might be just a wee bit too cocky? 'Let me do the talking'
he says! Sheesh!"
Sue> "So OK, its real, but you think they're not going to check up on your
brilliantly named Obscene Order of Orphanage Operators? What then?"
Mike> "Then they think it was a hoax call, and forget about it, I suppose.
Hopefully. At least they'll probably send the fax first. That should be
good for a laugh. Hmmmmmmm... Ah yes Wendy... just like that, keep going...
mmmmmmm.... Bet that nun never got so close to a blow job before."
Wendy (muffled, from under table)> "Want me to phone her up and offer her
one? Like Tony just did." Mike rolls his eyes and reaches under the table.
There is a soft thudding sound, as of someone's head being jerked up and
down, and hitting the bottom of the table.
June> "Tony, you made that whole conversation up, didn't you? I don't think
I believe a word of it. Typical overactive sex-maniac's fantasy, if you ask
me. Don't believe it, but I liked it! What was that about fibre? Moral or
optical?"
David> "Hey! Way to go! Take a vague but cool possibility and turn it into
a complete washout with one phone call. How the fuck do you succeed in
business? St Penetent! Orphanage! Phooey!"

Tony> "No no! I was really talking to some lady who called herself Mother 
Superior Alina, of the St Cunatus finishing school for young ladies!
A charming woman. She seemed immensely pleased to hear of our interest.
Truly immensely, you should have heard her. Sounded like she thought it
was Christmas, and didn't seem to notice the 'St Penetrent". Sorry about
that. Somehow it just slipped in... said the Bishop to the actress, heh heh.
But now I'm _certain_ there's something to this 'strictness' stuff - she
got even more enthusiatic after that bit of 'anti-slackness' I mentioned.
Much warmer. Strict discipline of some sort or another is definately a
passion of hers. Well, well, well. So they are sending the info straight
away. I move we convene a 'planning group' immediately we've all read it.
Any objections?"  They do have objections, but nobody gets it together to
begin articulating them rather than just spluttering, before Tony continues.

Tony> "Look, just trust my instinct on this, OK. After all, David, thats how 
come I'm a fucking millionaire and you're not. Instinct. And mine says 'go
for it' now.

Garth> "My instinct says its past midnight, and the clock there agrees with
me. You want to have this planning group thing in the morning? Maybe we'd
all be a bit more sane in daylight. Especially if that fax never turns up.
Mike! Stop monopolising Wendy and lets have a last nightcap suck. Bring her
over to the couch, eh?"

It seems like a better idea than arguing, so the four men settle down side
by side on the couch, a line of four hard cocks standing in a queue. Mike
gets to go last. Wendy's chastity belt stays on, and she is given the task
of sucking them all off, one after the other. What with the idea of the
girl's school lark, the sight of Sue, Eve and June still tied to their
chairs and writhing periodicly in their auto-orgasms, and the excellent
job Wendy does despite (or perhaps due to) her highly frustrated state,
none of them takes more than a few minutes to spurt into Wendy's willing
mouth. Even Mike, for about the tenth time that evening, and he still
remains hard afterwards. As he helps the others untie the three girls
and disconnect their cum-counter instrumentation he keeps delaying the
general 'retiring to bed' by grabbing whichever woman shows signs of another
approaching cum, and sampling the cunt-clenching with his own instrument.

Eventually though, all is quiet, and the gentle sounds of the bush night
drift in though opened bedroom windows, to lull the sleepers in their dreams.
The frogs, crickets, gurgling stream, a mopoke owl now and then, and also
now and then the soft gasping of a woman coming in her sleeping dreams.

                          ---------------


Saturday morning. A bright, clear day, already warming at 9AM as the sun's
rays reach into the valley. In the kitchen Tony sits alone with a laptop,
a plate of hot buttered crumpets, and an apple juice. Garth and Wendy
walk in, sleepily, both in long dressing gowns. Wendy's is wide open at the
front, revealing her night attire to be nothing more than the chastity belt.

Garth> "Good morning! Sleep well? Buttering your keyboard again? Ahh,
waking to the smell of hot butter and honey running down into someone
else's expensive electronics; life doesn't get any better."

Tony> "And an excellent, auspicious, momentous good morning to you too!
She faxed the stuff, I've been up since six reading through it and looking
up a few things about this Namorba place. Fascinating! Faaaascinating!
I really think this is a big opportunity. Huge. Might even make some money,
would you believe!"

Wendy, somewhat grumpily> "Ho, you're chirpy. Money. Not the little school
girls, then? Hey, if you fancy a bit more horny crumpet, how about me?
You want to try talking Garth into taking this thing off me before I go
completely nuts?" She shakes her chastity belt, which is all she is wearing.
Her hard nipples demonstrate that the belt is still doing its job.

Garth> "Works well, doesn't it? Maybe we should leave it on her permanently.
We could chain her by the ankle in your dungeon in Sydney, toss her scaps
of food in return for blow jobs. Might teach her not to pester us to change
our minds, which she has been doing constantly since we woke up. Can I see
the fax?"

Tony> "Of course, oh recent doubter. I'll print off copies for everyone,
so you can all read them over breakfast. How about rousing the rest of the
lazy sods in the meantime. Lots to do. Want me to make some more crumpets?"

Ten minutes later the whole group is sitting around the table, being shafted
warmly by the morning sunlight. There is much buttery shuffling of papers,
munching, and excited exclaiming through mouths full of crumpet. The faxed
material is indeed very interesting. St Cunatus is real! There are pictures
of magnificent and stately old buildings, extensive and beautifully kept
gardens, maps of awesomely vast land holdings - almost rivaling some smaller
outback Australian stations in acreage! There are pictures of the staff -
basicly a bunch of nuns in typical habits, probably black and white affairs,
if the grainy black and white fax pictures are anything to go by. There are
details of the school's curriculum, which is strong on subjects like
deportment, home science and Christian theology, and remarkably lacking
in sciences, politics and martial arts. There are lists of student numbers
and grades for several recent years. There are even a couple of photos of
the students assembled, which although too low-res to show faces clearly,
hint that the students are a pretty good looking lot, despite conservative
floor-length uniforms.
Then there are reams of much less interesting financial details, which
Tony insists make sense and show that the place has been breaking even or
making a small profit despite buried hints of rather inept mismanagement.
There is a condensed and clearly idealised history of the school, from its
founding as a missionary school in 1835, conversion to all-girl boarding
school in 1868, and gradual evolution to an exclusive establishment for the
daughters of the gold mining barons over the next twenty years. Which is
more or less as it remained till the present day.

The final page of the fax is an inexpertly drawn-up contract for purchase
of the school, with various stipulations regarding continuation of the
school's operation, traditions and standards, and lastly an asking price.
Even to those at the table who are not multi-millionaires (unlike Tony),
the price seems ridiculously low for what the place contains. The Namorban
property market must be seriously depressed. Or the nuns are eager to sell.
When the general reading and discussion gets to that page, Tony laughs
off the amount as small change. However he points out that there may be
considerable other costs involved, such as possibly setting up a fake
history for themselves if the nuns look like investigating. Also the
particularly ticklish business of finding several more like-minded
people with qualifications sufficient to pass as the rest of the school
staff they would need. Then there would be the cost of preparing all the
'special supplies' that would be useful. However, he is happy to cover
all anticipated expenses.

As they have been reading the copies over a long breakfast, the trio of
cum-enhanced women have each had at least one shuddering come, and June
has had two. The frequency of onset of their vaginal spasms has reduced
considerably overnight, to a couple of hours between episodes. However the
rate at which their spontaneous excitement ramps up to orgasm has also
slowed, with the result that they now find themselves becoming extremely
horny at least ten minutes before the inevitable climax. Sue and Eve both
find their needs overwealming, and cannot resist playing with their heating
cunts, which slows down discussion of the fax considerably. June had managed
to disguise her first attack of 'the comes' right up till she finally gasped
and nearly collapsed with the ecstacy flowering in her loins. Her second
started building as Tony was commenting on the financial aspects of the fax,
and for some reason this buildup of heat in her cunt seemed an especially
strong one. She tried hard to hold still and not give herself away as she
felt her slit swelling and twitching beneath her. But somehow, perhaps by
the way she gripped the table edge in clenched hands, the others spotted
her state. By the time Tony finished talking about likely expenses, all
were watching her intently as she shivvered and quaked in high arousal.

What with breakfast being done with, and the thoughts of the schoolgirls
in all their minds, this seemed like a good time to get back to the main
purpose of the weekend.

Mike> "Well honey, I've never seen you get that interested in finances!"
He reaches to her and undoes her robe tie, pulling the sides open on her
seated form, then slipping it off her shoulders. Bunching it at her elbows
he suddenly whips the tie cords back around her arms and then forward again,
to tie tightly at her front. Her arms are pinned behind her in the sleeves
of the robe. "Perhaps you'd like to stand up and let us all see exactly
how much you enjoy thinking of money!" By now she is panting heavily and
her hips are undulating out of her control.  "Come on, stand up, thats
the way.." She gets very unsteadily to her feet, and lets Mike step her
back a few paces from the table. "With your legs wide apart too, dear- 
no, wider.. wider, thats it." To the others- "Tch, typical. Mention large
sums of money, and look what happens. Gets her every time. Now June, I want
you to stand like that until you cool off. Standing quite still, you hear?
And you'd better not come or anything like that, or we'll have Wendy do
something quite rude to you. Teach you not to get so excited about money."
He sits back down, with her the target of all eyes as he motions to Tony
"Do go on. What else do we need to know about this operation's finances?"

Tony> "Um. Well... My, I don't think I've ever had such a responsive lot
for a talk about money. Well... You know, another thing I find strange is
that some of these student fees are much higher than others. Can't see any
reason for that here. Which makes me wonder, why are some parents paying
so much? Something different about the girls? Or do the nuns just adjust
on an 'ability to pay' basis? The course lists don't seem to have any
subjects that explain higher fees for some. Anyway, the total of the fees
is considerable. About one hundred and twenty students, average fees thirty
grand a year, thats more than three million a year! The staff wages and
expenses I see here don't come near that, but somehow..."

At this point June, who has been trying valiantly to hold still, sporting
puffed out, dripping wet cunt lips, hard as nails nipples, and a very red
face, suddenly groans and collapses to the floor, where she lies twisting
and humping her hips at the carpet as she gasps "Ohhh Uhhhh OHHHHH..." over
and over.

Tony (grinning)> "I wish one or two of my better looking company manageresses
would take my ideas onboard so enthusiasticly!"

Mike> "Yeah, I'll bet. Right June you shameless cashophilic, thats it.
Wendy, in a moment I want you to tie June on her back over the coffee table
and deal with that shameless cunt of hers very severely. But first, come
over here and get this down your throat." He lays back his gown to reveal
a rigid 8" dick, thinish but with a large knob.

Wendy, who has been feeling ever more frustrated in her metal girdle, sighs
and gets to work. As June gradually cools off on the floor, and Wendy's
lips slide suckingly up and down Mike's long shaft, the discussion resumes.

Tony> "Ah, as I was saying... Oh Sue, why don't you sit in my lap? Ah yes,
hows that?" She sighs contentedly as she lowers herself onto his fat and hard
erection, and meanwhile David has Eve in the same way. "As I was saying,
there seems to be some leak of considerable amounts of money here. Wonder
what those nuns are spending it on? Do you think they are raking a bit off
the top for themselves? What else could it be? Not much to spend money on
out in the sticks there though... A mystery! One hundred and twenty sexy
teenage tails, and a money trail to chase too. Heaven!"

He falls silent, and for a while everyone is occupied with their own
pleasures. By now Garth has set June up on her hands and knees, and is
sawing away into her still twitchy cunt from behind.

Eve> "Uh.. this reminds me of a dream I ..uh! had last night...ahh...
I was riding a horse bareback, ohh... don't recall having any clothes
oooohn... and it was weird... ah... somehow there was this huge thing
aaaa..up, up me, and it just kept bouncing UH! me up and UH! down, uuuhp
and dooowwwwn... I remember coming and coming in my uh.. my dream.
You know Garth, that orgasmatron thing really has potential. I don't
AH! think I've ever come in my sleep OH! before. Wow, imagine if you
could program someone to always get really turned on or come, but it
would only happen.... oohhHHHH! in.. in their sleep. Ahhh! They'd always
wake up wondering why they felt soooo... ooohhhh! Yessss YES! AHHHHH!!!!
AHHHHHHH!!! Oh Oh wow.... so like this!"

Sue, who has been having her own living daylights fucked out, but more
quietly, answers. "Mmmmm... maybe it could be used on someone in their
sleep without them knowing! Then they'd wake up and wonder what the hell
was up with their body. Pretty surprising to have a come spring on you
for no apparent reason. I should know! Ahhh YES! I want to see some innocent
teeny prude cunt deal with that... and again and again for hours... hah!"

Garth> "Well, I don't know. It might be possible. Have to experiment a bit
to see, won't we. You volunteer to be the subject, Sue? Eve?"

Wendy has just finished with Mike, and swallowing: "Me, me! I want to
come. Right now! Can you try it now, please?"

Garth> "No! You watch out, you. You're the Sunday feast, don't want to
spoil our appetites, now do we. And shouldn't you be tying June up now
that she's free? Get to it woman."

Mike> "There've been some interesting drugs discovered recently too. There's
one used as an anti-depressant that has a curious side effect of causing
people to have instant orgasms when they sneeze! Men and women. Then there's
another experimental drug I've heard of that just plain causes massive and
long lasting orgasms soon after taking it. Pity that one only works on
females. Might be interesting to make a few connections with the people
doing this research; I'm sure that Namibia will have virtually no trade
controls.

Eve> "And hypnotism. Don't forget what I can do with that. Ah, I can just
see it now: the dear young thing laid back on the couch in the first aid
room... 'you are getting sleepy...' Oh boy, this is going to be fun. Do
you really think we can do this, Tony?"

Tony> "Not sure... but so far so good. Somehow I have a good feeling about
these nuns. Not like dealing with some hardarsed tycoon. Like me, for 
instance." He grins. Since Sue lifted off his softening cock he has been
sifting through the fax pages again. He holds one up. "Here's another
thing I spotted while you lot were lazing in bed. See these footnotes
about enrolments? Look at this one... 'provision for accepting young
ladies who have demonstrated a need for strict correctional supervision'.
Bingo! You know what that _has_ to mean? It means the little dears have
been behaving badly and embarassing their straight-laced mums and dads.
Which means.... they have been having a bit of nookie, or a private finger
in the honeypot, and got caught. Probably more than once. And _then_, these
hot little pieces have been under 'strict correctional supervision' ever
since at good old St Cunatus. How do you think they feel by now? How about
really, really, hot. Wendy, you think you've got problems now. Why, some of
these needy girls may have been totally deprived for _years_!"

Eve> "And Wendy, _will_ you get June on that table?" June has been lying
quietly on the floor, her arms still fixed behind her by the robe cord.
Now Wendy goes to her and unties the cord, freeing June from the robe,
and dropping her own robe to the floor. They stand, June completely naked.
She is a tall, slim, fair haired woman, at 26 younger than the others.
Her fair, sparse pubic bush is almost invisible, even though she does not
shave it. She rises lithely, athletic with her long limbs showing sleek
muscles under her creamy skin. Her almost conical breasts hardly quivver
at all as she moves. A strong face, well defined cheeks under wide, calm
eyes framed by her long blond hair. Wendy leads her to the 'coffee table'
(which is more of a heavy wooden low bench with a firm leather padding
in segments along the top) and helps June to lie back on it. The 'coffee
table' also turns out to have cords stowed under it somewhere, which are
attached to the bench legs. These are quickly used to bind June's wrists
and ankles, spread-eagling her on the bench. Her legs lie on either side
of the bench, and Wendy passes another rope under the bench and ties it
taughtly just above June's knees, drawing them down and outwards. Then a
wide cloth strap is passed over her ribs just below her breasts, and
fastened down tightly, fixing June's lower chest to the bench. Wendy then 
fetches a thick cushion from the couch and, lifting June's head and
shoulders, slips it under her. Now June is looking down her body at her
own spread mound and thighs.

Wendy> "Good view? How about we raise the prime attraction a bit, eh?"
She kneels at the other side of the bench and turns a hidden crank, which
causes a section of the bench under June's bottom to rise. And rise. By the
time Wendy is done cranking, June's body is stretched tightly in a head up,
chest down, pelvis curved sharply up, legs pulled back down, undulation.
She is bent so far that she has a clear view into her own slit, which is
pulled brazenly open by her splayed back thighs.
Wendy> "There. All comfy. Now I wonder what Mike has in mind for you?"

Mike> "Actually, I'm going to leave it pretty much up to you. Take your
frustration out on her. Only rules: you don't come, and she gets lots of
comes. Lots of penetration, with anything you can think of. But you have
to start out doing her with just one thing, and every time she comes, you
can add another bit of hardware.

Wendy> "Huh! Take out _my_ frustrations, by making _her_ come. Thats good."
She stands between June's splayed legs, and slips two fingers deep into
the uplifted, open snatch. With her thumb circling firmly on June's clit,
and her fingers walking inside, Wendy sighs. "Well, figures. Hmmmm... well
June, any requests? No, on second thoughts, I don't want to hear them.
In fact-" with one hand still busy in June's sex, Wendy stoops and pulls
open a drawer in the base of the bench, and comes up with a pair of rubber
ovoids joined by a thin tube. "In fact, I thing we'll start with this.
Open wide."  Pressing one of the ovoids to June's mouth, she pinches at
a sex-lip till June opens her mouth to exclaim, only to find the thing
squeezed into her mouth. Wendy then begins pumping the other ovoid, and
the one in June's mouth clearly expands with each pump. In a few moments
June's jaw is forced wide open, the rubber object in her mouth filling
and blocking her mouth beyond any chance of removal or speech.
"There, hows that? My, that makes you look astonished! Is the sight of
your open cunt so surprising? Or are you wondering what I'll do to it?
Maybe this?" She plants her fingertips firmly in June's slit and strokes
them very rapidly back and forth over the helpless woman's clit. June
tenses and shakes, but nothing can be heard but a muffled "mmm-mmmff!"
"Or maybe... this...?" Wendy again reaches into the drawer, and brings
out a very impressive vibrator- massive and with a mains power cord no
less. "Ah yes, thats what I'd like right now, so thats what you get.
Right after you cum. You are going to cum for me, aren't you? Yes, you
aaaarrreee....   mmmmmmmm..."

Wendy has put down the vibrator again, then sliping three fingers back into
June's slick opening, she lowers her mouth to the upturned cunt and begins
to lap like a cat with milk. Each lap slides her tongue up from her burried
fingers, over June's most sensitive little nub, and out the top of the slit
to nibble at her near hairless mound of venus. With each stroke, June
shudders and huffs, staring wide eyed at her ravishment so close. Yes,
she is going to come... soon... sooo.... sooon...
Wendy switches to full-mouthed sucking and licking of June's clit, giving
her a crashing wave of pleasure that takes her over the top within seconds.
Her fingers feel the spasms within the tied girl, as if the look on June's
tossing face was not sufficient. Without stopping her tongueing, Wendy
glances sideways at the others, to see if they are aware of her first
success in her task. They are. All are grinning at the sight, and Mike
gives her the big thumbs up- 'go for it'.

For minutes more, Wendy continues laying it on with June, the aching,
frustrated heat in her own sex driving her to torment the other with
a too-long continued orgasm, then probably almost painfull stimulation
of the now over-sensitive bud as the orgasm dies away. June is still
shuddering and humming through the gag, but now she is struggling to
draw away from the persistent tongue. Then, when the lessening of June's
display of desperation shows that her heat is once more rising under
the constant stoking, Wendy halts, and draws back.

"There you go, a lovely long cum. And now... for the little helper.
he he.. you're almost red enough to be Santa... "  She picks up the
great plastic vibrator again, and nuzzles its blunt nose against
June's now glistening labia. "Are you ready? No, no looking away.
Thats the girl, watch closely. Isn't it *thick*! Why, it must be nearly
two inches across. But look, see how easily it slides in.... mmmm.
My, you are wet. Ahhh yes, that feels good, doesn't it. So deep, yeah,
you like it in deep like that? Mmmm, you do, don't you. Oh, yes, I like
to see this going in and out like this, oh... wish I had one in me.
Yeeesss.. in and out. Mmm. How about if we take it right out, like
this, and start again, huh? Just touching your neat little lips.. you
want it in again? Do you?  Yeah, you do... alright.... there.. and
out again... in... mmm you like that twisting, huh? Like this.. deep
and round and round.. like stiring up a cake... yeah... oh look, your
clit is all hard again..  mmm in.. and out... mmmm think its time to
turn this baby on, don't you? Gotta keep those cums rolling along now."

For a moment Wendy leaves the langorously undulating June, to plug the
virator cord into a wall socket. The vibrator she leaves burried deep
in the raised cunt thats so pleasured by it. Then, control in hand, Wendy
returns. "Hmm.. lets tease this just a bit more, shall we..." She again
sinks to her knees and fixes her mouth to the offering of sex and juice,
while still working the plastic shaft just below her chin. One hand
still holds the control.

This time June is not quite so fast to the line as before, but within a
few minutes she is huffing through her nose in a strained, pre-orgasmic
intensity. Just as she tenses for what must be the moment, Wendy flips
the control to full on and the deeply burried fat cylinder bursts into
humming life. June bursts into frantic shaking and shivering, her head
thrown hard back into the cushion, her breath held in a grimace of pleasure.
That goes on and on, her face getting redder and redder, darker and
darker. Just as Wendy is thinking that perhaps a little blue is showing,
and maybe she'd better do something, June's rictus collapses into limpness,
and she inhales a great long nostril-draw of air, then an equally long
exhale. Then she shakes her loins as far as the restraints allow, in a
very clear 'take it out! take it out!' gesture.
Wendy just grins impishly down at her, and with one finger tip slides
the dildo back in to its deepest extent. "Oh no! We can't take it out
now! Why, you've only just begun to get acquainted! I definately think
you two should stay close for a while... oooh.. why not all day, eh?'
(frantic hip wiggling) 'No? Why not? Oh, he won't stop talking, eh?
Well, thats lovers for you. Hmmmmm... I know! Something to take your
mind off it.. how would that be? How about this?' Now she has found
a wooden clothes peg, and not waiting for a reply, she takes June's
left breast in her hand, and carfull clamps the peg onto the dark rigid
nipple. June stares down powerlessly at her pained breast, now sporting
a peg that bobs and sways with her every quiver. She lets out a exasperated
whuff of breath, and wiggles her buzzing loins some more. It makes no
difference to the mix of sensory overload and re-budding heat within.
She slumps in resignation, awaiting the next development. This is going
to be a long morning.
Wendy, too, decides that now is a time to let things unfold on their
own (more or less.) She squats down between the curvaceous thighs, and
does little more than slowly press the humming cylinder far back into its
warm, wet, sensitive home whenever it slips out a ways of its own accord.
She is considering what will be next, and trying to ignore the desperate
frustrated heat in her own metal-shielded sex.


In the meantime, the others have been sitting at the table, watching the
show and idly tossing about some thoughts on what could be done with
a school full of nymphettes at their command, and what they know of
Namorba. At first they are laughing and joking, hardly daring to admit
that the whole thing may be real. But one by one they fetch their laptops,
connect them up to Tony's household LAN, and begin some more serious list
making and (via the satelite link) a bit of preliminary web searching for
details of the country that they'd hardly even heard of before yesterday.
As the morning progresses and the idea begins to settle in, the mood
becomes more and more serious. By lunchtime, they have gone so far as
to have split the project into strands: research- the issues that must
be investigated before any real moves can be made, logistics- how they
might handle the actual move to and running of such a place, and recreation-
a wild slew of ideas for what they might actually _do_ with the place if
this crazy idea actually gets off the ground. Between five of them
scouring the web and pooling results, and Tony doing his business plan
modelling, they make a fair bit of progress. Some of it quite surprising,
and positive for the project. Its really very exciting, to see the various
potential problems and doubts being eliminated one by one. They try to
concentrate on the first two strands, formally expanding the action lists
and assigning responsibilities. But every now and then the working mood
breaks down into another ribald to and fro about the fate of the teenys,
and some more points get added to the 'recreations' list.

Such distraction is only to be expected, really, when trying to work in
the same room where one beautiful nearly naked woman is working another,
fully naked and bound down woman to orgasm after orgasm, using a series
of progressively stronger and more kinky methods of stimulation.

They break for lunch, and it is decided that June can probably be let off
now, having no doubt learnt her lesson regarding the necessity for self
control. By this time, Wendy has her strapped to the bench in a bent-over
kneeling position, her bottom thrust uppermost, her thighs strapped to the
end legs of the bench, and her wrists cuffed to the legs at the other end.
There are three vibrators on and in her - both her cunt and her arse have
fat protruding stubs, and a smaller clip-on model hangs within her slit,
clipped to her labia and pressing against her clit. There are pegs and
tight straps covering most of her body and limbs, and her rear is rosy
pink from the paddling Wendy has been giving her. It is by then taking
her about fifteen minutes to reach each orgasm after the last, and she
is _very_ relieved to be allowed out of her 'ordeal by orgasm' as she
calls it. She is so shaky she can hardly stand, and heads off gingerly to
'freshen up', the twin fat ends of her plastic intruders still projecting
lewdly between her legs, their cords coiled in one hand.

                       -----------------

Over the meal, they bring Wendy and June (sitting carefully) up to date
on their investigations and plans. It seems Namorba has an astonishingly
old fashioned legal system (what there is of it.) The place is still very
much a traditionalist monarchy, complete with a royal family and line of
inheritance. The King has not allowed any trace of democratic principles,
or even female emancipation, to creep into the national structure. His
subjects live well enough, but only by their good fortune in the natural
plenty of their land, for of the foreign dollars earned by the mining
companies for the precious metals and gems they have been digging up
since the colonial days, ony a small part finds its way into the national
coffers. Which are actually the King's personal treasury. The mining
companies, of course, are all foreign owned. So its a fairly stable
setup- the King is happy to be wealthy, and is smart enough to leave his
subjects more or less well alone, apart from (in his own interests)
keeping the mining companies from being too overbearing and rapacious.
For their part, the mining companies are run by 'old money' colonial
families - who also rather seem to like the staus quo the way it is.
With the King's consent, they live more or less as they please, with
cheap servant wages and opulent lifestyles in secure enclaves of european
extravagance. All very decadent, no doubt. The natives more or less
live as they always have, under a more or less benevolent absolute King.
The whole thing runs, also more or less, with hardly any formal legal
system to speak of. There are even strong suggestions that slave markets
are active in the deep interior, no doubt operating under the King's
protection.
This is a country where traditional power has never been challenged as the
ultimate law, and introduction of western money has merely woven a thread
of material wealth (for some) into the tapestry of Namorban life rather than
tearing it to shreds and substituting a tinsel replica as has happened many
times elsewhere. Its also clear that in this tapestry the position of women
(at least, of the native women) is determined by their menfolk - ie either
on their back, or washing, cooking and children. There is not much call
for ironing, given the traditional clothing styles (very little.)

At this point Tony drags the conversation back to the financial issues
for a moment, and discusses the size of the school's property holdings,
and the type of landscape included. It really sounds like a beautiful
place - not some dusty plain, but a hilly area, well wooded mostly,
and with a permanent river through it not far from the school. There
is no shortage of drinkable water, a good road, reliable electricity,
and surprisingly, a high bandwidth fibre optic cable for the school's
phone service. He feels the asking price, though low by their standards,
may be open to some negotiation but is ultimately acceptable as quoted.

Everyone nods, and 'yes's, but it doesn't take long for the topic to
return to the matter of the legal position of women, and how that might
relate to the girls at the school, and their parent's expectations.

With the 'old colonials', their position regarding women seems to be,
outwardly, more in line with western standards. And yet.. there are not
any actual, formal, laws, so far as the crest researches have revealed.
What the true, behind closed doors situation might be, is anybody's guess.
It is decided that this issue in particular needs further urgent
investigation. Both of an indirect nature, and perhaps also in some
veiled way, directly of the Nuns.

So a list of queries for the nuns is prepared, ostensibly from the council
of the Friars of St Pene 'a Trent. It covers numerous business and trivial
matters, but within it are the critical questions: What exactly do the Nuns
mean by 'demonstrated a need' and 'for strict correctional supervision'.
Also, what is the legal position regarding displine and correction, and
to what extent is parental oversight of school affairs exercised.
Then there is the question of legal age of majority - what is it, and do
any students attain it while at the school, and does this pose a problem
with regards guardianship and legal liability?

The list of questions is duly faxed, together with advice that the Friar's
council has given initial favourable consideration to the purchase, and
will deliberate further. Then the crew resume their planning, if at a more
leisurely rate (and more frequently interrupted.)

One serious issue receives much consideration - the matter of the girl's
standard education. They all agree that if this is to work, the school's
normal teaching functions must continue, on the whole. Or at least, with
only a few changes. For one thing, it wouldn't take long for the parents
to twig if normal classes were disrupted by the planned 'recreational
activities'. But more importantly, the Crest members all feel that despite
their intentions of introducing the girls to some unexpectedly physical
'education', they do still have an obligation to give the girls the best
of the education they will need in life. After all, their objective
is to ensure a good (or at least very interesting) time for all concerned,
not to ruin young lives. In fact, there is general agreement that the
present curriculum sucks, and could do with being dragged by the hair into
the 20th century and given a good dose of rationalist enlightenment.
So it is essential that they can locate enough people with the required
teaching abilities, who can also be relied on to share their own attitudes
regarding the 'alternative curriculum'. This, of all things, could be the
stumbling block that kills the whole project. That afternoon, a great
many long distance phone calls are racked up on Tony's account.

Meanwhile, Wendy gets racked up as well. They clip her wrist and ankle 
bracelets to ringbolts in the wall, and tightly spreadeagle her, back to the
wall. Her metal chastity belt is removed, and a large, firm cushion is
fastened to the wall behind her pelvis, thrusting her sex forward in a
completely revealing pose. Those taking breaks from the planning and phoning
spend time carefully teasing and tickling her all over, particularly in her
drenched and swollen sex. Every now and then a thin vibrator is worked in
her cunt to bring her to a panting urgency, but withdrawn before she can
achieve her longed for release. She makes a fine picture, and inspires many
a diversionary fuck among the others. Sometimes, they use her moanings and
pleadings as background for phone calls to people they know will appreciate
such things. The numbers of potential members of their ersatz Order of Saint
Pene a Trent gradually swell. By dinner time, the figures are looking very
firm. Its surprising how many of their sexually liberated friends and
associates are willing to entertain the idea of leaving the country to
tend to some nubile teenagers in a remote religious school setting with
a 'relaxed' (to say the least) legal environment.

At dinnertime, Wendy is let down from the wall to dine with them- but in
her by this time tearfully desperate condition, a place at the table is
considered unwise. Instead, Tony wheels in a special table contraption for
her alone. It is a circular base, about four feet in diameter, mounted on
castors so it can be rolled about. At either side of the base, adjustable
metal braces extend up to waist height, where they support a circular sheet
of thick clear lucite, of the same diameter as the base. This is jointed
across the middle, with a waist-sized hole in the centre. One half of the
lucite circle is swung away on a pivot, and Wendy is directed to step up
into the opening. The other half is closed on her waist, and makes a tight
fit at her figure's narrowest middle. A catch underneath the lucite is slid
too, securing her in place. Then her ankles are drawn out to the edges of
the base and fastened there by eyebolts and velvet cords.
Now her naked, standing figure is still completely exposed, yet there is
no possible way for her to reach her sex with her hands. Her dinner plate
is placed on the clear plastic about her waist, and the others sit down to
theirs.

With a swollen, itchy, aching cunt, its copious juices running down her
inner thighs, her clit so rigidly congested it hurts, she sighs. Its going
to be a long, long weekend. She picks at her dinner, trying to concentrate
on its admittedly delicious flavour and block out the throbbing need in her
belly. Just out of reach behind the clear plastic shield. She tries not to
think of the last time she was fixed in this thing, when the vaginal pole
had been screwed into the base, impaling her with an inescapable thrusting
monster vibrator. Then she'd wished desperately for the endless orgasms to
stop, pounding her fists helplessly against the clear waist shield, staring
at the fat plastic electric dick reaming her love channel. Now she'd give
her arm for just one cum.

After dinner they retire to the lounge, and its cosy wood fire. Wendy gets
wheeled along with them, then while the others relax in the comfy lounges
and engage in sedate after-dinner mints, sex and conversation, she gets
a bicycle-seat and dildo affair attached to the unit's base. Only they angle
the seat so she cannot make any contact with her cunt, and the dildo goes up
her arse, not the wanting opening just in front. Now she can sit, after a
fashion, but her sex is still exposed to anyone who cares to sit on the
carpet in front of her, and continue the feather-teasing from before dinner.
The worst of it for her, is the complete freedom of movement she has above
the shield, in contrast to her complete vulnerability below. She can wave
her arms about all she likes, clutch at her breasts, hold her face, hug
herself, anything.
But just inches away, fully visible to her, the excruciating attack of the
killer feathers continues implacibly at her sex. After a while, she becomes
hysterically noisy in her begging for relief, and they gag her.

Finally, late in the evening when sleep calls the others, all well satisfied
and tired out, they wheel her into the bathroom. She is made to brush her
teeth, as the others take turns at lightly swatting her rear for not brushing
properly here.. or back there, or whatever. Once she has finished her teeth,
they tie her hands behind her back (wrist to elbow) and remove both of the
clear plastic panels from around her waist, and their supports. Now she
stands, held in place only by her tied ankles and the bicycle seat nestling
between her buttocks - with its fat, long anal probe. Now she finds it has 
another function, when Sue attaches a clear hose to a valve at the base of
the seat's support post. Grinning, Sue puts the other end to her lips, and
gives a short, hard puff. Wendy grunts as the air bursts deep into her guts,
the feeling of inflation producing a strange counterpoint to the frustrated
desire in her sex. It seems to be a one way valve too, since nothing goes
back out when Sue lets go the tube end. The others pass it around, each one
giving it another quick blow, until Wendy's stomach is quite swelled up, and
her need to relieve the pressure with a huge fart is vying in urgency with
the desire in her sex. But of course the thick plug in her rear prevents it.

Then Tony decides that she missed a spot with her toothbrush, and squeezes
a new lump of freshmint toothpaste on her brush. He then applies it to her
sensitive nipples with a firm scrubbing action, holding the nip between his  
fingers tightly as he scrubs the paste into her senstive skin.
In seconds the menthol has her nipples in its cold-fire grip, and she twists
and contorts trying to find some way to relieve this new overload.
Meanwhile Sue has been running some water in the bath, adjusting the mixer
tap temperature. Now she seems satisfied, and as she watches Wendy trying
to escape the restraints, she pushes the hose end against the tap spout with
its flow of warm water. This time Wendy wasn't ready. As the sharply warm 
water bubbles into her, further tightening her already taut bowels, she
freezes. She can feel the water spraying out of the dildo end, into the
air-filled cavity of her colon. It hits the walls, and runs down inside her,
to her inflated rectum, pooling there, rising. She seems filled with strong
sensations, all demanding some urgent action, but with her helpless to do
anything. Her nipples, burning cold; her belly, bursting full; her arse,
invaded, hot and swelling; her cunt and clit, aching, empty, congested and
desperately itchy. But still gagged and bound, transfixed on the dildo seat,
there is nothing she can do but shudder and writhe, tossing her head in a
silent 'no! no! no!...'

After what seems like forever, Sue stops the flow of water into Wendy.
She removes the tube altogether, packing it away. With every pelvic shiver,
Wendy can feel the water slop around inside her pregnantly distended
abdomen. She still cannot let a drop of it go; the plug in her arse is just
too fat. Deleriously, she wishes they'd put some of the toothpaste on her
painfully erect clit- she knows that would kick her overloaded senses over
into explosive orgasm. But they don't, of course. Instead they just stand 
about, admiring her as an object of pornographic sculpture. An artistic
exploration of the female anatomy's potential for urgent desire. A statement
of woman as an inflated sex-doll. Looking down, she can't even see her sex
past her distended belly, but she knows that her swollen, dripping sex is a
potent symbol - an icon of sexual invitation. She wishes someone would take
up the offer.

Instead, they just untie her ankles, and detach the seat-dildo from its
stand. After some joking about leaving her inflated like that all night (at
least, she hopes they're joking) they lead her over to the commode, and with
her squatting over it, pull the great long prong slowly from her bowels.
She sits, her legs held wide apart, and with a great sense of relief, voids
herself of the water and then, with a mighty wet farting, the air. It takes
a while for most it to work its way out, and she can feel that there's more
lurking high up inside, but at least that one need is relieved.

They then carefully wash and dry her, never giving her sex enough contact to
ease its aching. She is led to a bed, tied on her back, loosely spreadeagled,
and a chastity dome clipped over her sex with velcro straps around her.
Tucked in, wished goodnight, door closed in darkness, she is left alone like
a small child put to bed for the night. As if a small child could ever be
expected to sleep with the aching sex she has.

Yet somehow, after seemingly endless fidgetting and fuming, Wendy does drift
off, to dream restless dreams of strange sexual encounters unrelieved by
orgasm's release.

                        .......................


Sunday dawns late, as every day does here, deep in the fold of steep mountain
ridges. First sun breaks into the lodge's living room only by 9am, by which
time there has been a slow and sleepy congregation of the crew for breakfast.
Wendy has been got up too, toileted and teased into revived heat with careful
attention to her continued non-cumming. Now she is tied on her side down the
centre of the breakfast table, one leg ankle-roped up vertically to a ceiling 
beam. A thin 'SenseHer' stim-probe protrudes from her splayed cunt, with its
power and signals cable draped over her thigh to a laptop PC on the table
behind her butt. The SenseHer is another product of collaboration between
David's medical science, and Garth's electronics wizardry. Able to both
sense the minute electrical potentials of nerve cell activity in tissue in
contact with it, and also to apply pulsed artificial nerve firing signals to
the same tissue, it can both sense the state of affairs in a body cavity, and
influence them. Also provided with simple mechanical pressure, motion and
orientation sensors, it additionally monitors actions such as squeezing, and
overall body motion. The motion sensitivity has high enough resolution to
detect even the thump-thump of blood pulsing through nearby arteries.
Coupled with a decent computer, and some signal processing software, it
provides a very accurate running log of the vital signs of its 'wearer'.
Including state of arousal. Depending on the operation of the controlling
software, the SenseHer can induce the most awsome orgasms, or achieve and
hold any degree of excitement.

In this case, it has been set to hold a very high level of excitement, but
prevent anything more. Wendy is already beaded with sweat, her body straining
against the ropes, her cunt pulsing and pouting with her attempts to wring
some orgasmic victory over her implacable electronic tormentor. She is doomed
to failure- whenever her vital signs dip below the screen-slider set band,
she finds her cunt assailed with induced sensations that closely approximate
being fucked vigorously by a monster dong. As her body responds, the pounding
abates, till at the level of desire she is assigned, the sensations fade to
a slow, teasingly intermittent fingering. If she managed to overshoot, and
approach an orgasm, the sensations would be a blast of unpleasantness: icy
coldness, stabbing pinpricks, the aching of cramps. All done with finely
adjusted, harmless electrical stimulation.

She is not gagged, but has been warned to keep quiet, on pain of having the
level of excitement turned even higher. She knows this would result in 
frequent excursions into the most unpleasant 'cool down' mode of the SenseHer,
so is eager to avoid that even worse fate. She pants and sobs in frustration,
softly, granting her beautiful, flushed and struggling body as entertainment
to the others. At least today she will be allowed to cum, eventually.


After breakfast is done with, the others continue their previous discussions
and planning for the St Cunes Purchase Project. Or Operation Teeny Twats,
to use the alternate name it seems to have acquired.
Apart from more phoning around tracking down potential accomplices, most of
the time is spent dreaming up fates-worse-than-death (or at least, highly
erotic) for the unsuspecting students. Nobody takes the possibility seriously
yet, so many of the ideas are pretty outlandish. Garth, admiring his work
on the SenseHer in use before them all, ponders and describes his ideas for
a fully autonomous unit, complete with long-life battery, built-in 
microcontroller, and radio remote data link. It could be made in a largish
egg shaped unit, able to be inserted in a vagina, but difficult or impossible
to extract without a special tool. Much ribald discussion ensues on the
benefits of fitting the entire student body (ie all of their bodies) with
such devices. In keeping with their cover story of being a bunch of religious
wowsers, they would claim the compulsory cunt inserts were intended as 
anti-masturbation monitors and sexual arousal preventers. And in fact, they
would be programmed initially to be just that - with any insert which found
it's host vagina becoming excited radioing the info to central cum-control.
The girl would be immediately summoned, in the presense of her peers, to an
interrogation by the school head and asked to explain herself. Persistent
offenders would be publicly punished, preferably in some sexually humiliating
manner. Such as a naked bottom paddling, with her sex visible to all, and
also a large real-time display of the girl's state of sexual excitement.

Many similar ideas are played with. Such as posting daily graphs of every
girl's sex-index on the school notice board. Or having a computer voice
synthesizer make automatic announcements over the school public address
system, whenever any cunt unit radioed that its host-girl was getting turned
on. "Attention! Amanda Smith's genitals are tumesced and secreting sexual
fluids. Amanda, strip and report to the clinic for examination immediately."

The general concensus is that the fascist jackboot 'no sexual excitement'
policy should be enforced for long enough to ensure a severe state of cum
deprivation amoung the girls. Then phase two would begin. The SenseHer unit
can tell when its wearer is lying down, or standing, and whether they are
asleep or not (and how heavily.)  Even when they are in REM sleep: dreaming.
So now the units would be radio-programmed to begin gentle stimulation while
their hosts were dreaming. For those girls who had not been recorded having
episodes of sexual excitement, the stimulation would be proportionately
stronger, and be used even in non-REM sleep, in an attempt to induce sex
fantasy dreams. At first the effect would be infrequent, but growing more
and more regular, till finally any dream at all would turn into a hot-cunt
sex imagining. Girls would wake at night, sweaty and panting, fearful of
being punished for their naughtiness. But one by one, they would be called
to the clinic, the charts of their night-sweats laid out, and have it
explained to them that such involuntary erotic dreaming was difficult to
avoid in healthy young girls. So long as they resisted the temptations of
sinful acts while conscious, their conditions would not be punished. 'But
now, if you would strip and hop up on the examination table, we must check
for abnormalities...'  The egg removed, a prolonged and thorough pelvic
examination complete with clitoral response appraisal to climax, then the
egg replaced. She would be sent back to class, in a flushed and post-orgasmic
daze. Her egg would be set at a slightly higher level of activity- still
shutting down its stimulation before she woke, but now giving a faster,
stronger, more muscle clenching rise to high arousal in her dreams.

And so it would go. Eventually, the class teachers would be prominantly
carrying SenseHer remote control units, and using them in class to give
rewards or punishments. Girls judged 'licentious' would be required to
abate their sinful passions by naked, full frontal masturbation in the
corner of classrooms. Repeat offenders would be 'assisted' with strong
SenseHer stimulation during these sessions. If they continued to offend,
they'd be rostered for daily periods of automatic stimulation during class
hours, and special sessions in the clinic once a week.

By this time everyone is getting very silly, and no pretense of reality is
being maintained in their fantasies. Somehow they start to work the girl's
parents into the general debauched imaginings, allowing the wild assumption
that some parents might actually approve of erotic treatment of their 
daughters. Perhaps those 'difficult students', with histories of disgracing
themselves? The school could require any enroling girls with such backgrounds
to undergo a special 'entry examination' which parents could chose to observe.
The 'exam' would be an all day affair, commencing with the girl being 
questioned at length about her past sexual transgressions (and required to
make her replies in writing.) Then she would be required to strip for a
comprehensive physical checkup, and her clothes taken away. She would then
be instructed through a series of stamina estimation exercises - running
on a treadmill, situps, jumping jacks, bicycling machine (with intrusively
tilted narrow seat), chinups, and so on, all the while naked. Finally,
sweating, tired and probably somewhat aroused, she would be led to a
gynecological examination couch, and told to lie back on it, face up, feet
in stirrups. Her ankles and then upper thighs would be fastened tightly to
the frame with wide straps and locking buckles, then the leg-frames would be
raised to near vertical then spread wide apart, resulting in the wide upright
'V' of her legs pinning her hips (and her) in position. A very exposed 
position. Now she would be told that the examiner had to go away for half
an hour, and to try and just relax. On return, she'd be having an enema,
an erogenous zone discovery exploration, a full pelvic and rectal internal
examination, and a series of orgasm susceptibility tests. The examiner
prepares a trolley of mysterious instruments and blatantly phalic looking
implements, then wheels it beside the trapped girl before wishing her a good
rest and stepping outside, leaving her alone and (she thinks) unobserved.
The point of this is to secretly watch (and tape) what she does then, with
her entirely free hands, to her highly exposed sex, with the very available
objects. She is not 'discovered' - the tape is just kept for later use.

Returning (with two assistants), the examiner is finally reading the girl's
written statements, and finds numerous faults and ambiguities in them, all
requiring a much more detailed accounting. Which is continued as the girl
undergoes the proceedures. One assistant does the manipulations, the examiner
directs and takes measurements, which are spoken to the second assistant to
be written down. All in the cause of maximum humiliation.
A large enema flushing, repeated until her bowel is entirely clean. As a
surprise, her genitals are then shaved, 'for improved test visibility'.
A very thorough stroking and kneeding of her entire body, while her pulse, 
respiration and erectile tissues (nipples, labia, clit) reactions and vaginal
secretions are recorded. Once she is highly aroused, the vaginal and rectal
examininations begin in earnest. At first with exploring and kneeding fingers
that 'feel for lumps', massaging strongly over every internal surface. Then
with wide-spread speculum in her vagina and fat fibre-optic endoscope snaked
deep into her abdomen via her arse. With these both left in place, she is
again left alone for a period, while the examiners go for afternoon tea -
after first securing her wrists by her sides, and reminding her of the
orgasm tests when they return. She is told to 'try to cool off now.'
On the wall close beside her, are several large video monitors, showing the
live images from the endoscope and speculum-cam, as well as another close-up
of her newly bald (and swollen, wet) genitals with the dual penetrations.
Finally they return, and the orgasm trials begin. She is blindfolded and her
ears plugged with white-noise emitting pads. Cut off from sound and vision
distractions she is subjected over and over to various constant, quantified
mechanical stimulation of this or that erogenous zone, and her time-to-orgasm
noted down. At one point her wrists are freed and her hands guided to use
a vibrator in her pussy. Breast-slapping encouragement is given till she
masturbates herself to another orgasm.

Much later, once she is totally exhausted and cannot be made to cum anymore,
she is unblindfolded - to find her parents and several other strangers
sitting casually in a semicircle of chairs viewing her twat. Yes, they were
there the whole time.

She is unbound, and told to sit in a chair before the group. It is announced
that she is a highly over-sexed female, and that to be admitted to the school
her parents must direct her to be completely obedient at all times to the
Sisters and any students they assign her to. She also must agree to this.
In addition, she may expect to undergo regular re-examinations to monitor
her sexual development, and that any misbehaviour will be severely punished.
At this point, the video of her furtive masturbation on first being left
alone on the examination table is played (if she actually did anything.)

                           . . . . .

The morning passes by quickly in such amusing reveries, with a fair bit
of fucking for icing. Wendy of course gets none. By lunchtime, they have
found enough lascivious friends to make up a 'respectable' staff for the
school. That leaves the question of whether the hell its all just a silly
fantasy.

For lunch, Wendy (after being given a light snack) is hung upside down by
her ankles, and a large rio nin tama ball placed in her cunt. The others
eat around her hanging form, watching her undulate and shake, attempting to
give her love channel enough thumping with the mercury sloshing inside the
hollow steel ball, to come. It isn't enough, but at least its less desperate
than the SenseHer.

The discussion of possible torments and delights for unsuspecting schoolgirls
continues. They plan the purchase of new underwear for the uniforms, that
has a very narrow cut in the crotch, continuing some distance up the front
as a parallel sided strap before flaring out to a high, narrow waist band. 
Even when 'correctly' worn, this would reveal not only the thighs right to
the waist, but also a fair amount of pubic hair at the sides of a girl's
mons veneris. With any less of the token triangle shape from the front, they
would be a bare 'T" of cunt band and waist band. At the rear, they would be
almost pure thong; a simple cord rising between the buttocks, to the top of
the arse crack, where it would triangle-out to meet the waist band. All
cloth areas are made of a thin, white, tightly clinging elastic material,
edge seams barely more robust than the material, and a waist band of strong
long-life elastic. At best, it covers the cunt, so serves the pretense of
modesty. But the sketches June does of young girls modelling the garment,
look intensely erotic. Then she draws a second set, showing the 'accidental'
tendency of the narrow crotch band to bunch up, pulling up tightly into
steamy little slits, and frictioning the clits within during any sort of
physical activity. Even in the 'correct' position, the thin white material
would conform closely to every detail of the girl's anatomy, revealing the
shape of her labia as if transparent. Which it would virtually become, if
it ever became dampened by, say, some naughty fluids from the theoretically
innocent little twats.

They make notes of designs for undercup bras, that leave the pert young
nipples uncovered, to rub tantilisingly against rough cotton blouses (which
would naturally still be made of material thin enough to strongly hint at
darkly rosy aureoles, and define the shape of turgid nips.)
They consider the design of front-slit wrap skirts, a narrow overlap always
threatening to flip open at any breeze or sudden movement, to display the
thin white cotton briefs beneath, and the darkness of early pubic hair
within and around the sides of the narrow-cut undergarments. Or far more
likely, the sight of that same narrow-cut elastic crotch piece bunched
firmly and persistently into a young and damply excited slit - the plump
labia folding over the vanishing cloth, pressing it tighter against its
frictional target, a tumescent girl-clit. Sports days would be great fun.

The Ogasmatron has also a great deal of promise. Abilities to produce
spontaneous delayed orgasm, female priapism, involuntary vaginal spasms,
enhanced orgasmic intensity, autonomic association of innocuous sensations 
with arousal of sexual responses, and so on, especially if the treatment
is done secretly to a sedated or hypnotised unsuspecting girl, lead to a
great many fun scenarios. 

David mentions that he knows of some very interesting but 'unoficial' work
being done in the field of genetic engineering, involving means of replacing
specific gene sequences with new, designed sequences. And that this can be
done to all cells simultaneously in adult, whole organisms, via viral carrier
vectors. Its early days yet, but the work has great promise. Potentially,
together with work being done around the world on sequencing and interpreting
the human genome, it might be possible to modify specific components of the
human metabolic system in individuals. Like for instance, enhancing the 
activity of touch receptors in erectile tissue. Or altering the hormonal
balance to increase sexual readiness or spontaneous excitement. Or altering 
the rate and extent of development of particular tissues during puberty.
Perhaps in just a year or two, some interesting trials might be possible,
if someone was able to find suitable test subjects.

Time passes happily, the group so engaged in the flow of engaging ideas
that they barely pay Wendy any attention. She still hangs upside down, her 
head dizzy and flushed from the long inversion, feeling like a forgotten
exhibit at a museum. An exhibit that would very much like someone to press
the button to make it go. Or come, in her case.

At three thirty, the fax from St Cunes arrives, with the answers to their
questions. It turns out that 'demonstrated a need' means 'caught in immoral
behaviour', and 'strict correctional supervision' means 'giving the girls no
opportunity to continue their sinful habits'. There is then, much to their
surprise, a brief but clear assurance that the school has a strong tradition
of 'punishment in a strict and appropriate manner' for any such sins
committed while in the school's care. Also, that the school requires full
authority to 'direct and discipline as seen fit' from the parents or
guardians before enrollment is accepted. 'In order to codify the school's
rights and duties as temporary sole guardian, and indemnify the school in
any dispute, due to the absense of formal legal framework.' It goes on to
assure them that they need not entertain such concerns, since the parents
well understand and fully approve of the school's operating principles. And
the issue rarely arises, in any case.
As for 'age of majority', there is no such formal boundary in the Namorbian
legal system. Rather, within the social group from whom most of the school's
students are drawn, there is a defacto acceptance of young ladies, even young
adult women, remaining in the care of their parents or guardian until their
marriage, whenever that might be. Mother Alina notes that this may not fit
very well with modern ideas of female equality, but it is nonetheless the way
of things in Namorba, and the mileau in which the school operates. In fact,
there are some of the european descent, that take that approach a good deal
further, but it is not her position to comment on this. She does not explain
this remark, and the Cresters are left wondering what she could be alluding
to. What, the parents take 'obedience of their daughters' a 'good deal
further'? Than what? It seems a very interesting and tantalising hint, and
their discussion of its possible interpretations leads off into ever more
fanciful suppositions.
None of which they find themselves able to take seriously, but the favourite
is the 'sexual subservience' line. They imagine that the european sub-culture
in Namorba may have developed a system (kept hidden from outsiders) of 
treating daughters as sexual commodities, to be used in complicated inter-
family marriage bargaining. An attractive, virginal young daughter would be
a valuable asset, to be kept under strict supervision lest she commit some
indiscretion that lessened her perceived value. She might even be subjected
to regimes of 'schooling' that increased her value- pehaps some varieties
of sexual discipline or exercise.
Daughters that for some reason had lost their marriage value, might find
themselves in a variety of difficult positions, such as being pressed into
sexual service within their family to cover the cost of their upkeep.
Perhaps a daughter who had really damaged her family's prospects, or was in
serious disfavour for whatever reason, might find herself the victim of a
program of retribution- and in such a scenario, it would probably involve
elements of sexual activity, if only because that would be most entertaining 
to her 'guardians'. This line, coupled with the absense of any real age of
majority, gives rise to some exceptionally exciting little scenelets. Very
much in the 'Snow White and her Evil Stepmother with the Whips and Dildos'
vein of imagery. They all have a good laugh, at themselves for such wishful
thinking, as much as anything else.

Still, there is Wendy, still on the painfull edge of orgasm after two days.
Her naked, beautiful and pornographicly bound figure, and their freedom to
do whatever they feel like with her (and they do), is an explicit, flesh-
toned, 3D demonstration that sometimes life does give out prizes, if you
just reach out to take them.

Perhaps Namorba has prizes of its own.



Finally, with dusk sinking down into the valley, they switch their attention
to Wendy, and the giving of her week-long postponed orgasm. There are many
suggestions for the method, as they stand around her upside down, leg splayed
figure. June and Sue form a faction pressing for her to be locked back into 
the chastity belt, and kept cum-less for at least a few weeks more. Both
offer to drop round to Garth and Wendy's place, to keep Garth in pussy while
Wendy is in 'dry dock' as they call it. Garth considers the offer carefully,
but points out in serious tones that pussy is fine, however his wife's mouth
would serve perfectly well, and they don't need to put themselves out. 
David and Mike make no comment on their wives offers, since they know that
the girls may be serious, but Garth is definately acting. Not that they'd
mind if he wasn't.
Since Garth is standing at Wendy's back, teasing her sex and easing a large
suction capped thing like a plumber's tool into her cunt, Wendy can't tell
that he is kidding. She goes into a near frenzy at the discussion of keeping
her deprived for weeks more, twisting, shouting and raving that she'd go mad, 
please don't, and so on. So June puts the inflatable gag back in her mouth.
Then there is nothing Wendy can do but jerk and flop on the end of the ropes
like a landed fish.
Despite her strainings, Garth manages to get the suction cap to grip the rio
nin tama inside her, and pulls the large stainless steel ball slowly out.
When it finally emerges, there is a 'pwuuuhhhh' sound, as her empty, upside
down cunt sucks in its fill of air. She jerks, and presses her pelvic muscles
up to expell it with a 'thooowp'. Her labia close, and now hold together as
her muscles relax and outside air pressure presses them together even tighter.
Garth chuckles, and slips two fingers down into her cunt. Spreading them a
little apart, he breaks the air seal, and she sucks full of air again. She 
waits till he pulls out his fingers, then pushes up, emptying and closing her
sex again. Garth shakes his head, gives her clit a quick, rapid diddle, and
trots off to the kitchen. He returns in a moment with a single plastic 
drinking straw, and repeating his fingers-in, he lets her refill with air.
Then drops the straw into the darkness of her cunt opening. She doesn't even
feel the light thing bottom out in her; just waits till he removes his
fingers, then pushes up. Then, thinking herself empty and closed, she lets
her muscles relax - and finds that her cunt immediately ballons back up
inside her. She grunts through the gag and tries again. Same result.
Still not able to feel anything in her (the straw is too thin and light) she
strains her head up and looks dazedly up her inverted body. Sees the straw
and collapses back, defeated. Her cunt will stay ballooned up inside, then.

Garth continues to fondle his wife, and the discussion of whether she is to
be sentenced to indeterminite celibacy goes on. Mike makes the point that
Wendy is well known to be seriously addicted to masturbation, and that her
fashion design business must suffer some loss of productivity from all the
time she spends at her drawing table or sewing bench, fingering herself
rather than creating new designs. He reminds them that all of them have at
one time or another let themselves in to her studio for a chat, only to find
Wendy leaned back in her chair, skirt about her naked waist, feet up on the
desk, totally engrossed in playing with herself.

Tony and Eve point out that Wendy always disconnects her studio phone when
she is having a frig, and so often that it can be difficult to get in contact
with her during the day. With the planning for the school business needing
good communications, she should be stopped from doing that, at least.

Garth agrees in principle that Wendy is a dreadful cum-junkie, and tells
her that she is definately not to turn off her phone anymore. But in his
opinion, when she's doing herself she's also working, more or less, since
thats when she gets her best inspirations for daring new fashions. Besides,
she _did_ say she'd go mad if deprived of sex, and the last thing he'd want
is for his wife to go _totally_ sex-mad. A little more than now, OK, but not
_totally_. So perhaps they'd better forget the chastity belt idea. Perhaps
some other time, if she doesn't improve her impudent manner.

Meanwhile, all of them have been bending close to her up-pointing sex,
examining her open depths, toying with her lips, teasing her frustrated clit
without mercy. Her tiresome strugglings become a nuisance for close 
examination of the interesting puff-suck clenchings of her vagina, so she is
rearranged somewhat. They lower her till her head and shoulders are on the
carpet, then untie her arms and strap wrists down to fastenings set in the
floor, straight out to either side. Then they fetch and place a kind of 
vertical bench hard against her back, with its base also clipped to the
floor. Once fixed, they turn a handle on its side, and the padded surface
against Wendy's back pushes towards her. So her body moves, and her legs
become more and more tightly stretched back relative to her pelvis. Once
the contraption is far enough forward, she is so tightly stretched that
barely any movement is possible, even without the wide belt they pull tight
around her waist and the bench.

There probably isn't any other position in which the twat is more totally
exposed for finger play and examination than this. Mike fetches a box of
toys over, and they all kneel about her, giving her immobilized sex the
attention it deserves. Lowering the head of a pocket maglight torch into her
gaping hole, they light up her pink insides and enjoy the show of her moist
inner contractions and quiverings as they tickle and pinch her. Leaving it
dropped inside, they taunt and tease her inflamed clit, finding what makes
her tense her cunt and what makes her let the torch drop fully back in as
she relaxes.
All this time they carry on a running debate about whether they should let
her cum or not. Acting, they reach agreements to do it for her, and begin
serious clit-cum stimulation. Then, just as she is approaching the point,
someone will raise some new reason why she should be kept on ice, and they
slacken back on the clit-work while they reconsider. This goes on several
times, with Wendy's cunt and clit getting more and more red and swollen.
What noises she can make past the gag are becoming a string of sharp, 
desperate cries, and her pulse (when checked) is ultra fast.

Finally, Garth winks at them all, gesturing them to contine, as he quietly
rummages in the toy box. With a sly grin, he pulls out a great big, very fat
vibrator cock, with a spur at the base to curve up along a woman's slit,
pressing a small secondary vibrator with tiny stimulating fingers against
her clit. But that of course requires the entire fat seven inches to be
bedded fully into her cunt.
Before she sees it, he tosses a cloth over her face, covering her eyes.
Once he has the prong ready and lubricated for an easy entry, he grips the 
protruding rear of the maglight, pulls it smartly out, then presses the
rubber dick down into her. She gives a groan of deep satisfaction as its
thickness begins thrusting into her, but it dies off into a wail of defeat
as her lets go with it only half way in. It sits there, very slowly sliding 
back out, as he rummages some more in the toybox. The others get the feeling
he's got something special in mind, and all wait with interest, leaving
Wendy to his attentions.

The next item is a three foot long, half-inch steel rod with a threaded end.
This he fits into a screw hole in the top of the benchrest pressed against
her back. The rod stands vertically, just behind her rear flattend against
the bench pad. Next, he pulls out another rod, a foot long, with a ring
about an inch in diameter at one end. This he fixes to the vertical rod
with the sort of cross-clamp used to build chemical lab glassware racks.
(It fits the rods, because they are actually from old glassware stands.)
With a bit of clamp adjustment, the ring is positioned about a foot directly
above her dildoed cunt. One more rod is dug from the box, this one about
two feet long, again with a treaded end. This one he passes down through
the metal ring, and then screws the end into a cavity in the base of the
dildo in her cunt.

With the weight of that one vertical rod added to the weight of the battery
filled vibrator, the rod-vibrator assembly sinks down deeper into her cunt.
And comes to an initial halt with about two inches to go before the clit
stimulator met her most sensitive flesh. It has bottomed out in her cunt,
and when her inner muscles give another involuntary contraction, the prick
is forced back up few inches, only to settle back under the weight when she
relaxes. But it still bottoms with two inches to go.

Then Garth adds another small clamp to the very top of the vertical rod,
and hangs a few metal weights from it. The prick sinks deeper into her, she
contracts it back out again, then has it slip back again when she relaxes.
Now the clit tickler is just not quite touching. He adds one more weight,
and down it goes that extra half inch - contact! Except its not turned on
yet. Still, she feels the touch, and knows what it means. In pleasured
approval she tenses up - and pushes the cock up again, breaking clit contact.
In frustration she tries to shake her hips, push her hips up, anything to
get back that touch on her clit. Nothing works, till she sighs and relaxes
again. Down it sinks, and touches. She shakes, up it goes, hovers.

He lifts the cloth off her face, and once again she is looking up at her
flushed torso, her twat, and the phalic weightloading structure that has
been built above her. She frowns; figuring it out isn't easy with a brain
fogged by sexual heat. But in concentrating, she relaxes her pelvic muscles
and the affair slides back down into her, achieving clit contact again.
She gets it. Experiments and finds that she can make the cock jog in her
sex with the right muscle movements, rubbing the clit pad across her nub.
Difficult, but possible. She starts to attempt a rythme.

There is only one problem. As soon as it starts feeling really good, her
pelvic muscles cease to pay attention to her brain's directions, and simply
clench. Which of course ends the clit stimulation.

This is a wonderful sight. Desperate to cum, she battles her own reflexes,
trying to build up enough clit-rub to cum, before her traitorous muscles
desert and put a stop to the fun. After several minutes, its getting obvious
that she is never going to get enough control to succeed.

At this point Garth turns on the vibrator in the clit exciter. She sees him
do it, and can feel the light vibrations down the protruding cock into her
cunt. But the anticipation makes her tense up, and she can't get it to come
down to her. The more you want something....

It takes her nearly a minute to make her cunt relax, and when the vibrator
makes contact, the rush of sensation is enough to make her clamp immediately.
So she got one short, shap shock, then nothing again.

Garth kneels down and removes her gag: "Well there you go my dear. You are
permitted to cum. Enjoy! If you promise to be polite, I could add some more
weights?"

Wendy: "Ummpf.... uhhhh huu huu...uh... y.yesss.... please.... uh uh uh... 
oh.. uh. aauuhhhh... "
Garth: "Yes please _what_?" He is tossing another weight up and down in
short arcs above his hand.
Wendy: "uh yesss uh please uh uh _master_.. uh uoohh uh... "
Garth: "Thats better! So... "   He hangs one more weight on , and fetches
another. "... who's going to be a good girl, and not complain about anything
her master instructs her to do, eh?"
Wendy: "uh uh uh I uh am... uh uh uuuuuhhhHHHHHhhh! AauuuhhhhhhhhHHHHH!..."
At that point she managed to relax enough for the heavier set to push down.
Her clit burst into lights for her at contact. For a moment, it lifts back up 
with her tensing to cry out, then she stops, it falls back, and she crys out
again - so it lifts. Then sinks. She: "uh uh UUUUHHHHHHhhhhh   uh uh ... uh
uuuuuuHHHHHHHHHHFFFF!...... uh oh ohhh ohh   hf uuuuuhhhHHHHHHHGGHHHH!...."

The system falls quickly into a simple cyclic oscillation- she gets the clit
tingling until she can't help tensing, then struggles for an interval to 
relax it back again. It sounds pretty frustrating, but she does seem to be
getting higher each time. Gradually she learns to keep herself relaxed
despite the sensual assault on her clit, and so lengthens the 'down' phases.
For good luck, Garth adds another weight anyway, and she moans deeply in
appreciation as her clit is pressed more firmly by the tingling plastic tips.

Standing back from her, watching the slow rise of her heat to explosion point,
they are struck by how very still she is, despite all her desperate need and
intensity of passion. This position should be called 'still life cum', since
in her tight bound state, and enforced need to not even tense her pelvic
muscles, the only part of her that moves at all is her face. Only every now
and then, the dildo gets pushed up enough to break contact, and then back.
Her face is a study in concentration and desire; like a pianist trying a
difficult, intense piece. She fights to overcome the natural reflex of her
sex to clasp around a penetration.
Tony whispers to the others: "This is great, eh? We'll have to find a setup
with the opposite effect- no clenching, no stimulation. Make a good trainer
for girls who are dead fucks, eh?"

Wendy is on the very edge now: "AhhhhhhHHHHHHhhhhh ooh AHHHHHHHHhhhh ooohh
yessssssss oHHHHHHhhHHHHHHHhhhhh.. .hhhhhooooHHhhh oohh jj...jeessss... ohh..
OoHHHHHhhhHHH AaaaaaHHHhhH!.. OOH OHHhhhHHH I'mmmm Ohhhhh ..."

Garth reaches out and lifts the rod-prick from her cunt a couple of inches:
"Whats that dear? Did you say you were going to cum? So soon? Would you like
me to hold it off a bit longer? You seem to be having such fun."

Wendy: "oohhhh noo....... uhh  no.. uh thanks.. Master, please.. uh I... 
would uhhh uh like to come uh now.. please... oh please... please.."

Garth: "Well, OK then." He grips the bar, and shoves it hard down into her,
at the same time turning on the main vibrator inside the dildo. Mashing the
clit vibe against her quim, he twists the thing inside her, then lifts and
drops it sharply. He continues to thump it back in, twisting and grinding
her each time.

She explodes, flailing her head about and screaming: "AHHHHHHHhhHHhOOOHHH>.
Ohhhh YES YES YESSSSS OOHHHHHHHHHH OH OH AARRRRRHHHHHHH.. OOHHHAARRRRRR..
ARRRUMMMMMMMmM MM oh oh OH OH! OOOHHH!!!! OH GOOOD OH GODDDDDDD OH FUCKING
JESUS CHRIST YES OH YESSSS! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OHHHh hhhmmmmMMmmmmm MMMMMMMM."
Head arched back, neck muscles like wires, she is moaning into clenched
teeth, her eyes scrunched shut, lips drawn back in a grimace of unbearable
pleasure. Cuming at last. Cuming and cuming... and cuming.... it goes on
and on, as Garth works the plastic vibrating cock in her cunt, and the 
vibrating points across her supersensitized clit.
He keeps it up, and her cum up, for what seems like several minutes. Finally,
as her orgasmic moaning descends into a more conscious sort of moaning under
sensory overload, he abruptly pulls the thing completely out of her.

Garth: "Right. Thats it. I hate to mention this, but its well past time for
us to be leaving for home. There's still the draw for next time to be done
too." He briskly dismantles the aparatus, and the others help with unbuckling 
her waist, wrists, and ankles. Released, she flops in a heap on the floor,
rolling over onto her back and stretching out sensuously.
Wendy: "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm that was nice. mmmmmmmm..." She presses her palm
down over her lower belly and mound, rubbing. "mmmmm feels so nice and ummmm
 ummmmm sated... yes thats the word.. sated... mmmmmmm...."

Garth: "But of course! Now, get up. There's the draw to do. Fetch the marbles
woman."
Wendy: "...sigh... " She rolls over onto hands and knees, then struggles 
weakly to her feet. She goes to a drawer, and pulls out a small box. Shaking 
it, she comes back to the group. Sits down in a chair and opens the box.

Mike: "OK ladies, go face the wall." Sue, June and Eve go to the far wall
stand facing it. "No peeking!"
Wendy spreads her legs, hooking one up over the arm of the chair. She tilts
the box about a bit, and the four glass marbles inside click against one
another. There are three white, and one deep red. Garth puts his hands over
her eyes, and Tony shakes her hand holding the box to mix the balls some more.
She picks them out by feel one at a time and inserts them into her cunt,
pushing them far in. Garth takes his hands off her eyes. Looking down at her
naked crutch, her hairs still matted and damp with her sex juice, the lips
still dark and puffy with her recent arousal, she says: "This always turns
me on, when I'm it. My own fate, or some other girl's, sitting up there in
my cunt. A lucky dip. A sex lottery. Mmmmmmmm even after that cum..."

Tony: "OK ladies...."
The girls come back, and one by one, giggling, finger up into Wendy's slick
snatch to draw out a marble. This time Sue pulls the red one. She laughs:
"Well Wendy, if they come up with something like that weights thing for me,
I'll be screaming too. That was a bastard, wasn't it?"
Wendy: "OH, well... once I got the hang of it..."
Sue: "No, once they added some more _weight_. You'd never have cum other 
wise. I was thinking they wouldn't let you...   Hey! A vote- who thinks it
would be a good idea to keep Wendy celibate for a couple of months? No sex at 
all, the rest of us girls taking care of Garth... I'd like to see the clothes
she designed then, wouldn't you?  Everybody in favour...."
Wendy: "Hey! Wait a minute... "

But the other three girls all put their hands up immediately. So does Tony,
a moment later, grinning and winking at Garth.
Wendy: "No! Please... but... you're not.. No, you can't.. "

Garth considers her, tapping a finger on his chin. "Ah Wendy. If thats not
arguing, I don't know what is." He slowly raises his hand, and then the
other two men do as well. Everyone's hand is raised except Wendy's.

Garth: "Well thats settled then. On one condition- we don't start now. Not
until we either have this StCunes thing settled, or its dropped. I don't
want Wendy's thoughts being trapped between her legs, when we need sharp
wits from everyone.

Eve: "Thats true. But if we are at the school, and we have to keep her
celibate without showing the outline of a great big chastity belt, then
she'd better get piercings like mine. So she can have a shield fitted.

Garth: "Thats true. OK Wendy, a visit to Dr David for you. Tomorrow. Now,
just put a coat on for the drive home. I think you probably need a bit of
topping up..." He grins , picking up the combination dildo/clit-tickler.
"So you'll wear this too, powered from the cigarette lighter plug. Should
give you that good 'ole home cuming feeling."















Wendy's long delayed cum.
Going home, with the St C project fired up to run.