Heather Mann had just turned sixteen. She was a pretty girl but she didn't know it. No one had ever taken the time to tell her she was pretty, or that she was talented, or even a nice person for that matter. At the age of four Heather had been placed under the care of Greenwood juvenile detention and adoption center. Greenwood, a privately operated but state funded institution reserved exclusively for female children did not waste time with developing self pride in any of the girls that came under their care. The girls at Greenwood were those unfortunate enough to find themselves in a situation without parents, other family members or guardian to care for them and had become wards of the state, as was Heather's unhappy circumstance.

Greenwood was a harsh environment for the girls placed there. Although they were feed and educated, absolutely no misconduct of any kind was ever tolerated, and any girl caught in such misbehavior was severely punished for any such act. Despite state and federal laws forbidding any use of physical punishment it was prevailing practice for the Greenwood staff to use both spankings and switching to maintain discipline at the boarding house. Greenwood staff had little, if any fear of the state ever finding out about any such physical castigation exercised on the students, because the girls were all so well conditioned or so frightened of the Greenwood staff, one of them confiding in a state auditor about any physical or mental mistreatment was simply unimaginable.

Heather, like the other girls had come to accept her life at Greenwood as absolutely normal. She was completely accustomed to immediately doing anything any staff member told her to do without question, her reactions to a staff members demands were as second nature (or perhaps even first nature) to her, as was the acceptance of physical punishment if a staff member deemed she deserved it.

Heather was so well conditioned by the age of ten that she never even once considered complaining to anyone that just after her tenth birthday one of the male cleaning staff started visiting her cot once or twice a week after everyone else was asleep. He would awaken her by fondling her adolescent breasts and in-between her tomboy like legs. At the time Heather didn't really understand what the man was doing, and even though something inside told her what he was doing was wrong, she was conditioned well enough not to question his right to be doing it.

Sometimes he would play with himself with one hand while using his other to fondle Heather, then at other times he would have Heather use her small hands to play with his `tool' as he had called it. He had shown her how to stroke it up and down until sticky stuff shot out of the end, after which he would usually depart very quickly. This routine continued for a month or two until one night he had told Heather he wanted to try something different. He pulled off Heather's pajama bottoms and spread her legs wide apart, before climbing onto the cot and on top of her. Heather soon felt excruciating pain when the man attempted to force his `tool' up in-between her legs. She tried to remain still, but as his `tool' spread her young flesh apart the pain became so server Heather involuntarily cried out in agony, and the man quickly covered the girls mouth with one of his hand's muffling any farther cries of discomfort from the child. Now having Heather silenced he continued pushing his `tool' into her young body not realizing his hand was so large it not only covered the girls mouth but her nose as well, thereby cutting off all breath. Heather struggled frantically gasping for air, but with the man's weight fully on top of her, it made her efforts useless. Heather was just on the verge of un-conscienceness when the man was roughly yanked backward and away from the girl then onto the floor. It took several seconds and several deep breaths as the girl coughed and gulped in air, until she recovered enough awareness to hear someone saying in a harsh voice. "......bastard! I heard that girl scream! Come on! Your finished around here!".....Then only silence. It felt like her bottom had been ripped apart and when she probed at the soreness between her legs with a finger it came away wet. It was too dark for her to tell if she were bleeding or if the dampness was only from the mans sticky stuff, but it frightened her none the less. No one came that night to see if Heather was injured or even to comfort the child... not that Heather would have expected anyone to have done either, after all this was Greenwood. Heather was never visited by the man again, and she was at least thankful for that.

Greenwood taught a very condensed form of sex education to the girls consisting of a single lecture on female monthly cycles, and the merest basics regarding pregnancy, but Heather did on occasion have short conversations with other classmates on the subject and was somewhat able to piece together what the man had done to her when she was ten. Knowing did not change her feelings about it in any way. It had hurt....hurt real bad even, and she had gained an inward foreboding of a man's `tool' but she had not become abnormally distressed over such a dominantly traumatizing experience as being child raped, no, she had become so acclimated to obeying any staff member, she regarded what had happened to her as just another order that must be followed, although that order had certainly been more physically painful than most, it was just another order none the less.

Now at sixteen Heather had been told that she was to be transferred to another institution. The transfer bothered her. Greenwood was not so much a pleasant place to stay, but it was all she knew. Greenwood also had the only classmates she had ever known, most of them not very close but there were one or two, (in-spite of Greenwood's policy against establishing any camaraderie between students), Heather thought of as friends. She became distraught and frightened over the prospect of leaving Greenwood, but knew any argument was out of the question, and would only succeed in getting her punished. Besides, all her life she had mechanically done whatever the staff had told her to do without question, and this time would not be the exception. Over the years Heather had known of a few other girls that had been transferred from Greenwood but they were very infrequent, and she had never once considered she might become one of the transfers herself.

She gathered up what few personnel possessions she owned and machine like stepped into the van that would take her away from the only home and acquaintances she had ever known. No one came to bid her a farewell or even to offer the slightest hint of where she was to be taken, this, like all other things was just another order not to be questioned.

As the van pulled away from the large dormitory style building Heather turned back to look at the massive brick building she had called home for one last time. On the upper floor Heather though she detected a window curtain part, and then what appeared to be a hurried wave from perhaps one of the girls. The good-bye wave had been so quick she may have been mistaken, but she clung to the thought that it indeed had been someone that cared she were leaving and she found herself unable to hold back the tears of fright, uncertainty and loneliness. It had been difficult and sometimes even cruel at Greenwood but it had been the only home she had ever known. She threw aside her fear and reveled in the gratified warmth of the hasty farewell wave offered her from a friend.

The van traveled for several hours with only the rhythm of its motor and the sounds of tires on pavement to keep Heather company. Her one feeble attempt to make conversation with the driver was answered by dead silence, Heather didn't dare try again. Eventually the van made its way to a long narrow, little used winding dirt road that appeared to lead nowhere in particular. Heather had not seen any evidence of a town, a house or of any human habitation for that matter over the last hour or so, and she couldn't begin to imagine where the van was taking her.

An hour later the van parked in front of a large four story home surrounded by a dense forest of pine and maple trees. Heather remembered the surrounding area was deserted for miles around and tried to imagine why anyone would build a house as grand as this so isolated from the rest of civilization.

Heather was directly ushered inside the large house by the van driver who spoke to her for the first time telling her that her room was number three on the forth floor, and she should proceed there immediately. There wasn't any other welcome by anyone nor other explanation offered her by the driver, as usual she really hadn't anticipated any would have been, after all this house was still part of Greenwood.

She made her way up three flights of stairs and opened the door with a large number "3" stenciled upon it. The room was a simple affair with two beds, one on either side of a window that over looked the front of the house, a large dresser with attached mirror, a small desk and hardwood chair and a closed door Heather discovered was a walk-in closet finalizing everything the room contained. The closet contained a sparse set of hanging clothing, two dresses, two skirts, a pair of slacks, four blouses and a pair of brown pump shoes sitting on the floor.

Heather hung her meager selection of clothing on the opposite side of the closet then walked to the dresser. She found that only the top two right hand drawers contained any articles of clothing, one with several pairs of silk panties, five bra's, nylon stockings, a garter belt and a red lace teddy. The other drawer held cotton briefs, a flannel nightgown, several pairs of plain white socks and some toiletry items.

Heather selected the left two top drawers and placed her undergarments and other personnel items including her toiletries in them not having found any bathroom.

It was obvious to Heather that she had a roommate and that whomever it was was approximately her same height and weight judging from the clothes hanging in the closet. Heather prayed her roommate would be someone she could become friends with, as frightened and alone as she felt at that moment Heather needed a good friend.

Not knowing which bed belonged to the roommate and certainly not wanting to disturb it in any way Heather sat down on the desk chair and folded her hands on her lap patiently waiting.

When the door opened, Heather looked up and was immediately filled with both joy and relief because the girl that had entered the room was Susan Olson. Susan was a year older than Heather and had transferred from Greenwood. about a year earlier and she at least, was someone Heather knew. Although Heather and Susan had not been real friends, they had been aquatinted none the less, and Heather felt such comfort at the prospect that she would at least be with someone she knew, it helped remove some of the anxiety and lonely feelings she had carried with her from Greenwood.

Heather jumped up from the chair and flung her arms around her previous Greenwood classmate. "Susan! Oh Susan! I'm so pleased to see you. I didn't think I would find anyone I knew here. I felt so abandoned. How have you been?"

"I'm okay, I guess." Susan answered without displaying any of the same enthusiasm Heather had shown. Then Susan whispered close to Heather's ear. "I'm ever so sorry to see you here Heather."

Heather could not understand Susan's cold reaction or why she would be so disappointed at finding they would become roommates. She took a step backward with a puzzled look on her face looking into Susan's eyes for some kind of explanation. "Why on earth would you be sorry to see me Susan?" See asked completely puzzled.

Susan merely waved her head ever so slightly indicating she didn't want Heather to talk about it anymore, then said. "I meant I'm sorry I was unable to greet you when you first arrived, but I was in tape..aaa..in class. Oh! Here. I was asked to bring your schedule to you." Susan held out a white sheet of paper toward Heather..

Heather accepted the paper and looked it over. Her name had been printed across the top and below that was listed a class schedule starting at eight in the morning carrying through to three thirty in the afternoon. Printed next to each hour segment was the academic course of study and next to that a room number.

"All the classrooms are located on the second floor. The dinning hall and gym are on the first floor. This floor and the third floor are all dorm rooms like this one." Susan told Heather flatly while Heather studied her schedule.

"How many girls live here?" Heather asked looking up from the paper.

"It varies from time to time. Right now there are twenty four... well.. twenty five with you here." Susan answered.

"Really?" Heather said with surprise. "I can't remember twenty five girls being transferred from Greenwood."

"Yeah I know." Susan answered. "There are only five....well six now with you here from Greenwood, all the others are from two other institutions apparently owned by the same bunch that runs Greenwood. I don't know where the other two orphanages...I mean institutions are located other than out of state." Then in a lower voice. "We're not allowed to talk about that though." Susan continued in her normal tone of voice. "Come on. I'll show you where the bathrooms are."

As Heather followed Susan down the long hall she observed that the forth floor had five additional dorm rooms with numbers stenciled on their doors, 1 through 6 including her number 3. She concluded that if each room housed two girls there must be twelve girls on this floor. According to Susan the third floor was laid out similarly to this one so that accounted for twenty four girls total, she wondered where the other girl stayed assuming she was the twenty fifth girl.

When Susan reached the end of the hall she pulled open a large door, inside Heather saw six toilet stalls off to her right, and a large shower stall with twelve shower heads to her left. Directly in front of her stood six hand basins with a large left to right mirror spanning the sinks. "This is it." Susan told her. "You'll need to bring your own toothpaste and towels with you when you come. We're not allowed to leave any personal items in the bathrooms."

Just then a male voice boomed out of a speaker mounted high in one corner of the room. "Heather Mann report to the admin. office immediately."

Heather looked around nervously and Susan said. "They must want you for orientation. Go down to the first floor, Admin. is the double set of doors just to the left of the entry. Better hurry and not keep them waiting or it'll go tough on you."

Heather stood straight and tall inside the administration office before a seated man of forty five to fifty years old. The man wore a brown tweed suit and had a full head of hair worn loosely over a stern face and sharp pointed nose. Heather had seen face's like his before at Greenwood. She was instantly reminded of how cruel men with faces like that could be if she were disobedient. Dire fear told her she would not be disobedient.

The man looked up after she had entered but he had not offered her a seat. "Miss Mann my name is Mister Compton I am the Superintendent here. I will explain the rules you will be required to abide by as long as you are here. I will explain these rules only this once. If you should neglect to follow any of theses rules there will be severe consequences. Have I made myself clear up to this point?"

Heather managed to nod but her knees almost banged together with fright.

"Good." Mister Compton continued. "Then I'll explain the rules. One, you are never to talk to anyone other than myself or another staff member about your past or where you came from before arriving here. Two, you will not become close friends with any of the other students, this is to include any roommates you may have now or later. Three, you will complete all class assignments on time and maintain a three point oh grade point average. Four, and most important you will do anything and everything a staff member tells you to do without question." He had placed emphasis on the words "will", "anything" and "everything." After a brief pause he said. "Are all theses rules perfectly clear to you Miss Mann?"

Heather nodded once again.

"Please speak up Miss Mann I need to be absolutely assured you fully understand the rules I've just described to you." He told her sternly.

"Ye....Yes sir." She somehow managed to utter through a very dry throat.

"Excellent." He said. "Now, if you will, please remove all of your clothing."

Heather stood momentarily paralyze unable to fully comprehend what he had just told her to do. She didn't understand how or why, and it seemed almost unnatural with her upbringing at Greenwood, but ever since her breasts began to develop and pubic hair to grow she had become bashful about exposing her body. Her mind was attempting to tell her he had said something other than for her to get undressed.

"Miss Mann!" Mister Compton said sternly. "Do not obligate me to tell you again. Because your new here I will over look your hesitation this one and only time. Now please remove your clothing."

Heather felt embarrassment and could sense redness filling her cheeks, but she was to well trained and much to frighten of this man to disobey the order a second time. All the years spent at Greenwood had taught her how painful disobeying could be. On legs almost to weak to support herself she unfastened her jeans and pulled them past her boots, then stepped out of them, timidly she pulled her sweat shirt up over her head allowing it to fall on top of the jeans. She stood with both her face and body flushed in crimson in her bra and panties shivering with fear. She couldn't get past the thought that he might want to put his `tool' inside of her and she didn't want that.

"All your clothing Miss Mann!" He said.

Her fingers were shaking so badly she found it difficult to get her bra unfasten, but eventual, by accident more that skill she managed and dropped it onto the growing pile of clothing at her feet. Reaching down she slid her panties down her long legs then stood shyly attempting to cover her nakedness with her hands and arms.

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Mister Compton remained seated staring at her nude form for several moments before saying. "Uncover yourself Miss Mann, there is no place for modesty here." She lowered her arms to her side, then with head bent forward and eyes looking down at her feet she stood completely exposed to his gaze. She could almost feel his eyes on her nakedness probing into even the smallest private recess of her body as they migrated up and down her torso. Several more uncomfortable minutes passed before he said. "Very well. You may get dressed now and return to your room."

Back in her room Heather ran to Susan feeling compelled to talk to her about the experience in the administration office. She wanted to tell her roommate about how frightened she had been and even her dread of a man's `tool', hoping that talking to Susan would diminish some of the anxiety.

Susan got a peculiar look on her face and pushed Heather away from her, then said. "Let's you and I have a look inside the closet. I want to make sure you fully understand where my clothes are to remain undisturbed and where you can hang yours. You are not to disturb any of my stuff." She took Heather by the hand and pulled her into the closet.

Once inside Susan whispered. "Don't say or do anything in our room, there's a camera and microphone in there and you can never tell when someone's watching or listening."

Heather began to understand why Susan had been acting so strangely. Spying was nothing new to her it had been done on occasion at Greenwood and she understood the consequences of saying or doing the wrong thing if someone happened to be monitoring.

The girls walked out of the closet and Susan said. "Okay, do you understand how I expect all my things to remain?"

"Yes Susan." Heather answered. "I'll be sure to respect your wishes and keep away from your side of the closet."

"Good. I'm glad that's clear then." Susan said flatly.

The next two weeks were busy one's for Heather getting acclimated to the routine of class and protocol structure in her new environment. Heather found that all the classes were small consisting of five or six girls at most. She also found that the girls did not interact on a personal level with each other very much. There were a million questions Heather was dying to ask but very little conversation took place between girls unless it was associated with some academic requirement and she never had any opportunity. Even Susan refused to engage in any friendly conversation being afraid they might be over heard.

It was on Friday of Heather's second week at the new institution she first witnessed a class punishment. She along with five other girls were performing exercises for Gym class. Each girl among other things was required to execute six chin ups on a high bar. Heather had by the barest of margins managed the six, but Cynthia, a good looking blond girl and fellow classmate just couldn't get past four pull ups even after several attempts, with each attempt by Cynthia becoming progressively worse, The Gym instructor, Mister Gramm turned, walked over to a balance beam, then while patting the top of the beam he uttered two single words in a stern voice. "Miss Larson!"

Heather didn't know exactly what was happening but when the other four girls stepped backwards and folded their hands on their heads, she instinctively knew it was best to follow their example and do the same.

Heather and the other four classmates lined up, hands on top of their heads, and watched as Cynthia walked over to the balance beam. Cynthia was biting down on her lower lip as if holding back tears, when she reached the beam she immediately pushed down her Gym shorts and leaned forward over its top surface. Mister Gramm slowly removed his belt from his pants then struck Cynthia time and time again on her bare bottom. The leather made a loud "Cracking" sound with each blow and Heather could see red welts appear on the girls behind each time the belt snapped across her tender flesh. Through it all Cynthia did not utter a sound.

After ten or so lashes Mister Gramm discontinued the strapping, then taking one of his hands he gently rubbed along the red welts his belt had inflected. Heather wasn't positive but she thought she detected a bulge slowly form under Mister Gramm's pants during the punishment. Heather assumed it was his `tool' getting stiff with excitement just as the clean up man's had when he had visited her. The bulge was much more predominate when he leaned Cynthia upright and carefully looked her over. Cynthia stood before her assailant, her Gym shorts bundled around her knees, dampness forming at the corners of her eyes and said nothing.

"You may pull up your Gym shorts now Miss Larson." He told her flatly. Then added "Class dismissed."

After showering and changing Heather returned to her room and found Susan sitting on the edge of her bed. "God! Susan," Heather started with excitement in her voice. "you know in Gym class today...."

Susan cut off her words by leaping off the bed and pushing Heather toward the closet. "Isn't that my blouse your wearing? I told you not to touch my things! Get in there and take it off this instant!" She steered Heather into the walk-in closet.

"Are you stupid or what?" Susan whispered to Heather once both girls were safely in the closet. "How many times do I have to tell you they might be listening! Look whatever happened in Gym class is none of your business and your better off just forgetting it."

"I know," Heather whispered back. "but for no reason at all hardly, Mister Gramm really give Cynthia a lashing. I felt so sorry for her. I....."

"Look," Susan interrupted. "that's how its done around here. Everyone....even you will get the same thing at one time or another. It only takes the smallest screw up and the next thing you know you've got welts on your ass. So just forget it."

"Yeah but...." Heather started to argue, but was interrupted once again by Susan.

"Damn it Heather! Don't you get it? Look around and think a little. Haven't you noticed that only the prettiest girls get transferred here. Shit! We're nothing more to them than objects they can use to make money from...and big money too would be my guess."

"Money?" Heather was completely confused. "I don't see how...."

"Not now. We'll talk latter. We'd better get out of here before someone becomes suspicious." She turned to leave then quickly turned back. "Oh yeah. You'd better change that blouse before you leave."

Heather was filled with questions she wanted to ask Susan, but over the next three days she hardly even saw her roommate as Susan didn't return to their room until well after Heather was already in bed, and the early mornings not being any better with Susan up and out of the room so quickly no opportunity presented itself for Heather to confront her safely.

In those three days Heather was witness to another spanking. This one was inflicted by Mister Larson during history Class. Alice at Thirteen and the youngest girl at `Greenwood annex' as Heather began referring to the institution, was very well developed for a girl of her age and gave the appearance of being older, Alice was having difficulty giving a verbal report covering the war of eighteen twelve. Alice seemed to understand the subject matter well enough but she stumbled over her words and stuttered on several occasions. Mister Larson ran out of patients and in the middle of her oral presentation he padded the top of his desk. Alice came away with several red welts on her young bare bottom.

The following Thursday night Heather was awakened by the whispering of a strange voice inside their room. Through foggy eyes she looked over toward Susan's bed and saw a man in silhouette outlined against the full moon standing at the edge of Susan's bed. The glass was crystal clear and from where she was laying it looked like the man was poised on a precipice contemplating a deadly plunge. Her heart began beating faster at the sight of a stranger in their room until she recognized this stranger as Mister Stillwell. Stillwell didn't teach any of the classes Heather was familiar with, but she had seen him around the halls now and again. He was a older man maybe as old as sixty or even seventy, with very little hair other than a thin white band around his ears. His face was chiseled with heavy wrinkles reflecting his true age. He stood nervously, his knee bent slightly, and his head tilted ever so slightly forward. He bend down over Susan's bed, causing the rays of moon to reflect off his bald head that created a halo around his face.

He reached down and shook the sleeping form of Susan as he whispered. "Hey... wake up girl... I'm here."

Susan awoke with a start, "Wa...What?"

"Quite!" He whispered back angrily, "I don't want to wake the other one up. I could get in big trouble for this, after all I am doing you a big favor girl."

"Yeah I know. Some favor." Susan whispered back with disgust in her voice.

"Don't get smart with me little girl, or I might just change my mind.... Now hurry up and get your pajama bottoms off." He whispered more angrily this time, then Heather heard the distinct grinding of his zipper being drawn downward, and through the dim light she saw the old man first lift one leg then the other as he slipped out of his pants. Cast in the moonlight Heather could clearly see his tool was standing stiff and ridged, out from his body.

Susan didn't argue with the man's request and threw back the bed covers so she could lift both of her legs to pull off her pajama bottoms.

"Oh yeah!" She heard the old man whisper with excitement in his voice as he climbed up onto the bed. "Unbutton your top. Let me feel your tities." Susan must have done as he had requested because the old mans breathing became heavy and irregular and he whispered. "Oh Yeah! Nice tits! Real nice tits!"

Mister Stillwell's breathing became even more irregular as he positioned himself between Susan's wide spread thigh's and pushed forward. "Ohhh... Ohhh.." He grunted then the bed springs groaned under the pressure as the old man started pumping up and down on top of Susan. Heather could clearly see his wrinkled white buttocks each time it caught the full reflection of the moon's rays during each of the up strokes

The old man took on a rhythm of driving his hips forward and back that lasted for several minutes then Heather heard him moaning. "Oh... Ohhh... Yeah...Aaa....Aaa..Aaaaa..Aaaaa...Ouuoooo...", and Heather knew he must have had an orgasm.

Heather watched as the old man collapse directly on top of Susan in seemingly total exhaustion. He lay quiet for several seconds then he raised his head and drew Susan's left breast into his mouth. He remained still again for the next several minutes with only the sounds of him cooing as he suckled on Susan's nipple to break the silences. Finally Susan said. "Your getting heavy! Get off. Your not going to get any milk out of that anyway. Now get off of me!" He slowly, and seemingly reluctantly slid off of the bed and whispered angrily to Susan as he pulled on his pants. "Damn you girl. Don't you tell me what I can or can't do!" He reached down with both his hands and squeezed Susan's breasts. "If I want to suck on theses I will!" then he silently slipped out of the room.

After the door closed Heather slid out of bed and crept over to Susan. In a low voice she said. "God! Susan. What was all that about?"

Susan sat up on the bed and said. "Oh! You awake?"

"Well yeah, sure." Heather answered. "I mean.. what with all that going on I couldn't help it. What was all that about anyway?"

Susan shook her head knowingly and rolled her eyes dramatically. "I let the old bastard fuck me." She answered casually.

"I saw that...but why?"

"I screwed up today. Screwed up big time and he caught me at it. They don't normally let him have any of the girls, he's not in the in-crowd I guess... so I told him he could screw me if he didn't tell anyone. Christ! I didn't think he'd want it so soon, and I'll bet the old son-of-a-bitch is going to want some more too... unless his fucking heart gives out before his dick gets hard again. I can't believe an old fucker like that can still get it up." Susan sounded disgusted and her voice had risen in volume considerably.

"What about the microphone and all." Heather began to panic remembering their room was monitored.

"He turned all that off before coming up here. It'll be a while before its back on." Susan answered. Then in a harsher tone she said. "Shit! I've got that old bastards cum running down my legs. Get me a towel so I can wipe it up will you."

Heather turned to retrieved a towel from the dresser and heard Susan grumbling to herself, "Christ! The old bastard almost bit my nipple off while he was sucking it like some God damn baby!"

Heather handed the towel to Susan, and she swabbed it between her legs cleaning off the sticky fluid Mister Stillwell had left behind. Seeing the sperm Heather was reminded of what she had learned about pregnancy, even as limited as that education had been she knew men's sticky stuff, sperm, cum, wad, as some of the girls called it would get you pregnant. "Aren't you afraid of getting pregnant?" She asked.

"Pregnant! Are you kidding? That old man's cum is so slow, it'd take a year for his sperm to work it's way up my canal, besides, they issue me pills guaranteed to keep me child free. You don't think that old geezer is the only one around here that wants to dip the wick do you?"

"Dip his wick?" Heather didn't understand the last statement at all.

"Yeah. Dip the wick. You know.... Slam the salami..... Hide the bologna..... Slip in the slit... Cum in the cunt....Get a nut off... Pound the pussy..... Bang the box... Hump.... Ball.... Screw..... Fuck.... You know, Sexual intercourse... Everyone of the bastards around here at one time or another will want what's between your legs, and you should have learned by now, if they want it, they just take it. Wake up girl, several of them have fucked, or even done worse to me in the year I've been here." Susan's voice lowered then and she seemed to be thinking about the past and talking more to herself that to Heather when she said. "The first time is the worst though....even with the subservient upbringing at Greenwood it makes you feel so violated, so used....so...so...and they don't care, they just take you.....and take you and take you......and make you do degrading things..." Her voice returned to normal and she looked up. Heather saw moonlight filtered silver streaks of tears flowing down Susan's cheeks. "I'll tell ya Heather...I almost committed suicide after the first time they took me. God how I just wanted to die." She took that moment to throw the towel angrily toward the dresser then continued. "This is so fucked up. I've got to get out of here. I've just got too... somehow."

"So......So do you think their going to do the same thing to me.....You know...Dip the wick...." Heather still held that fear of their `tools' and had become a little concerned listening to Susan.

"Its only a matter of time." Susan answered, then added. "I am sorry Heather, but yes, they'll dip their wick's in you."

Heather could do little about her fear of being `Dipped'...and she had become somewhat shy about her body.. but she couldn't understand Susan's over powering bitterness with it. After all it had happened to her when she was ten...and it had hurt.. hurt real bad...but she knew the pain came mostly from the first time...and, she had been very young...but, if a staff member wanted to do it, there was nothing anyone could do about it, you couldn't just say no. So even with her fears of a staff member demanding to put his `tool' into her....she would have to let him. Wouldn't she? What else could she do? The part she couldn't get a grasp on, was Susan's reference to being violated and used and how emotional Susan was about it happening. It didn't make any sense, after all they were the staff members.

She was about to ask Susan what she had meant about being violated, but decided against it for the moment based on Susan's fervent state and asked instead "How did you learn so much...you know about everything? You seem to know so much."

"Oh, you pick up things from the girls that have been here for a while....and from the men. You'd be surprised at the things they'll tell you when they've got their cock buried in-between your legs."

Heather suddenly remembered one of the many other questions she had been unable to ask previously. "Susan, at one time you mentioned that they make money off us being here. How do they do that?"

It was at that moment a very short high pitched "snick" erupted out of the small microphone mounted inside the room. Susan covered her lips with one finger indicating she wanted Heather to remain silent, then she pointed to Heather's bed. Heather crept back to her bed with her many questions still unanswered.

It was on the following Monday during math class that Heather herself became the recipient of punishment at Greenwood annex for the first time.

Heather was totally absorbed in copying down the examples the math instructor had written on the black board and she clumsily knocked her math book off the desk on to the floor. The book made the loudest sound she had ever heard in the silent classroom. Nervously leaning over to retrieve the fallen book she accidentally snapped the lead point off her pencil. The math instructor having seen enough patted the top of his desk.

Heather stood then walked toward the desk on knees hardly able to support her weight. She was so scared it took all of her concentration just to keep for wetting her underpants, knowing the consequences for doing that would be severe indeed.

Hardly remembering the walk she stopped at the edge of desk and almost mechanically reached under her dress, and pulled off her panties then she leaned forward resting her head on the desks cool surface as she had seen little thirteen year old Alice do. She felt her dress being raised up over her back and a cold breath of air passing across her bared bottom, then a sharp stinging pain from the wooden pointing stick when it struck her tender pink flesh.

The pain intensified with each succeeding blow as the pointing stick found its mark on Heather's flesh. Just when Heather felt the pain would force her into tears in spite of her restraint from doing so, she felt a hand rubbing her bruised and swollen flesh. For just an instant she felt a finger probing inside her womanhood then the words. "Back to your seat Miss Mann."

Carefully she slipped her panties on over her sore bottom, then finding her right cheek somewhat less painful than the left, she gingerly sat down on it.

The day following Heather's switching, she learned by chance some of what Susan had told her about `them wanting to dip their wick's, and of being used'. During history class thirteen year old Alice once again was required to give her oral history presentation, as with her previous attempt she had difficulty, but this time Mister Larson told the girl he would deal with her at a later time rather than handing out the usual immediate punishment. At first Heather thought perhaps he was postponing punishment because Alice had so recently suffered such trauma to her backside, but farther thought convinced her she must be wrong, that would have been the first time anyone had shown any compassion. No, Alice she was sure would be punished. She felt sorrow for the poor girl.

The period following history was lunch study hour and Heather remained in the classroom after everyone including mister Larson had left, she wanted to use one of the class reference books, feeling her grade might be slipping, and she could not afford to find out what that would mean. Ten minutes later she was fully occupied using the reference book to re-write a report when she heard voices coming her way from out in the hall. Not knowing if she could get into trouble or not for remaining in the classroom she quickly hid behind a large bookcase where she wouldn't be seen. Through an opening between two books Heather saw Mister Larson enter the classroom with Alice.

"Now Alice." Mister Larson was saying. "You know I'll have to spank you even harder than before for your inability to give your report. Don't you?"

"Yes....Yes sir Mister Larson. I know..." Alice was attempting to hold back tears. "I know sir..." She continued. "I...I just don't know if I can take any more. I'm so sore back there sir. Please...Please sir don't...Please sir.." Then tears did flow down the child's cheeks.

Heather watched as Mister Larson ran his hand along the girls hair. "I'm afraid there is no choice." He told her and pushed her forward over the desk.

Alice continued crying as Mister Larson lifted her skirt then pulled down her panties. Heather could easily see the ugly red welts along with some black and blue bruises on Alice's rear and she could just imagine how much pain the girl must have be in.

"Please sir....Please....It's so sore back there..." Alice pleaded with the teacher.

Heather watched as Mister Larson tenderly ran his hand over the girl's exposed rear. "Perhaps there is a way we can keep from swatting this cute little rear end anymore." Larson said as he continued rubbing the girl's behind.

Alice twisted her head sideways, "Oh yes. Thank you sir...Thank you." Heather heard relaxation in the young girls voice.

"Hmmm.... Well first let me see what we have here" His hand slipped down in-between the girls legs and Heather saw one of his fingers slowly push up into the girl. Alice flinched nervously while the man fingered her. "Wa...What are you do... doing sir?" Her voice broke several times. "I'm just examining a little. It won't hurt you." His voice sounded calm. After several moments of probing the girl he turned and walked to the classroom door locking it. "You know Alice I've been watching you. Your very young and your very very pretty I'm going to allow you to do something for me and then I won't have to whip you. Is that all right?"

"Ye..Yes I guess so sir...Bu....But what is you want me to do sir." Alice sounded a little fearful.

"Well first, I want you to take off your blouse and let me look at your breasts."

Alice looked uncomfortable but did as he requested. Her budding breasts were small and firm, not fully developed yet. "Oh! What cute little titties you have Alice." Mister Larson said and he took the girls breasts into his hands kneading the soft flesh.

"Let me see what you have under there..." He continued then slipped one of his hands under the girls skirt. Alice flinched nervously but did not attempt to pull away. "You don't have very much hair yet, do you? Just a little peach fuzz." Heather watched while his hand continued to fondle between the girls legs. "Do you like this baby? Does it feel good?"

Alice didn't answer immediately and Mister Larson's took on a harsh tone. "I asked you if you like it! If it felt good! Answer me!" Heather assumed he must have done something with the hand under the girls skirt because Alice suddenly looked to be in great pain and uttered a high pitched squeal.

"Ohwoo....Ye...Yes sir.....I...like it....I ." Heather felt Alice was about to break down in tears again at any moment.

"Of course you do." He said calming his voice once again. "Okay baby." He continued. "Now I'm going to show you what I want you to do. Okay?"

"Okay...Sure." Alice replied but was obviously petrified with fear.

Mister Larson unfastened his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. His tool was stiff and stood erect. "Okay honey." He said. "Get down on your knees and lick right here." He pointed at the tip of his tool.

Alice dropped down and licked at the tip of his tool as if it were a lolly pop and

tears began to flow once again

"That's my girl." He told her. "Now open your mouth. Cover your bottom teeth with your tongue and put the whole thing inside."

Alice filled her mouth with about a third of his shaft. "More!" He yelled. "The more of it you put in your mouth the better it is." He reached behind the girls head and pulled her toward him. Heather heard Alice make several gagging sounds when Mister Larson's tool was driven farther back into the girls mouth. "Aaa.. that's better, now get use to the feel of it. Now bob your head forward and back taking as much of it in your mouth as you can."

Alice moved her head forward and back gagging uncomfortably making whimpering and gargling sounds each time she pushed forward. "Oh yes!....That's it.....Oh yeah....Suck it...." His voice became almost a whisper. After several minutes he mooned. "Ohooo...Yes....I'm going to come soon ....Aaaaa....keep it in your mouth. That's it....Aaaaaaaaa." Heather could actually see Alice's slim throat bulge out as Mister Larson's tool entered it and slid down. It silenced the girl's whining and moaning, for which Heather was thankful. Mister Larson pushed his tool down her throat until her face was crushed up against his pubic hair. Alice started writhing and thrashing, but Mister Larson laughed and held her easily. Heather saw some of the man's sticky stuff seeping out from the corners of Alice's mouth but the frightened child was held impaled on his `tool' deep in her mouth. Heather noted Alice squirming uncomfortably while unsuccessfully attempting to draw air in through her nose, then Mister Larson allowed her to breathe by slipping his `tool' out of her throat but leaving it in her mouth. "You can swallow it honey it won't hurt you." He told Alice and Heather watched as the oxygen starved girl hungrily gulped air and sticky stuff into her stomach and lungs.

Mister Larson pulled his tool out of the girls mouth then said excitedly. "Hurry turn around I want to put this inside your little hole before it gets to soft." Almost frantically he lifted the almost panicked girl upright then turned her around. He pushed her forward and lifted up her skirt. Heather could see the ugly red welts on the girls bottom once again. He then took his semi-hard tool into one hand and helped force it part way up the girl's vagina. Alice squirmed uncomfortably sobbing violently while the man pushed into her but his `tool' was much to soft to remain inside the girl without him holding it and it soon plopped out.

"That was very good Alice." He told her as he pulled up his pants. "I needn't spank you now. That was much better than a spanking wasn't it?"

Alice was having difficulty gaining her voice because she was both sobbing violently and still trying to catch her breath. Mister Larson slapped her on the side of the head then repeated. "That was better than a spanking wasn't it Alice."

"Ye...Yes sir... I'm sorry sir... My throat is just so sore... It's hard to talk." Alice answered.

"Well you'll get used to it." He smiled down at her. "Perhaps we can do that again sometime?"

"I...Don't..." Alice spent the next several moments in uncontrollable sobbing before continuing. "....... if you want to...... You... we can do it again."

"Yes. We'll see. Hurry on now. You wouldn't want to be late for your next class now. Do you?"

"No sir." Alice cried as she slipped on her blouse.

Heather watched as Mister Larson guided Alice out into the hall, his arm draped across the girls thin shoulders, and Heather began to understand a little more about what Susan had said about being violated and used, she decided she didn't ever want to be forced to do what Mister Larson had compelled Alice do. She started to think that perhaps a girl should have the right to say no, and the process of considering herself as a person with self rights had begun.

The End