Kathy Andrews - Disciplined mother

"Good. That's good enough."

He stopped the turning, locking the ratchet in place. Krystal sobbed, tears of agony streaking her face. Mike was already removing his coat and shirt and tie, getting ready for what she knew would be some new horror.

"Linda's probably serviced you," he said, taking off his trousers and folding them neatly on a near-by wooden chair. Padding barefooted to a green metal locker to the right, Mike pulled out a pair of faded Levi's, drawing them on while staring at the helpless girl. "She always does that to the girls when I'm not there. Not a bad idea. Keeps them in line. Now, what are we going to do with you?" He scratched his chin thoughtfully. Krystal was terrified of the answer.

"I've already fucked you, beaten you, pissed on you, beaten you," Mike said, reciting the various torments her had visited on the teen, nearly breaking into laughter as he circled her – a tiger about to spring on his prey. "Maybe we need something more erotic far you."

The strain on her shoulders and thighs was becoming agonizing. Krystal's head hung down, her long blonde hair curtaining her face. Mike had moved from her, taking something down from the wall. When she looked up again, she saw him raising a large object over her head, straps dangling from a bottom iron ring. A hood of some sort! A mask of leather being fitted over head, pressing hard against her forehead!

Krystal struggled, twisting her head around, jerking it from side to side, doing anything to keep it from moving down over her eyes. Nothing could prevent that. Mike was standing on a small stool, drawing the tight-fitting hood over her chin. A firm ring of soft metal was squeezed tight around her throat.

"No breathing! Uhhfhhfhfhfhfffffff!"

Her voice was muffled by the hood. But somehow the girl had managed to get it across that the leather hood was blocking her mouth and nose. Mike adjusted the leather mask, fitting her nose into a slight protrusion in the device where two fairly large holes permitted breathing. Krystal also found there was a zippered mouth opening, now closed, opposite her mouth. Mike opened it, slipping something past it against her lips. At first she thought it was his cock. Then the girl realized it was something hard and cold – a rubber tube, it seemed.

"Open up, Krystal… open up or I'll jam this thing down into your belly until you vomit!"

It was hard latex, so hard that even biting down couldn't make any real impression. Mike pushed it into the girl's mouth, sliding it until it was opposite her tonsils. Zipping the mouth opening of the hood tight against the tube kept it fixed in place. The next moment, Krystal found the other end of the tube brushing over her cuntal mound.

"You see, it's another form of bringing you around to self-discipline. Nothing will happen if you can control yourself," he went on, sliding the tube into her pussy, working it up until at least three inches were buried in her cunt.

Krystal found her still-warm vaginal muscles tightening around the cool intrusion as if it were a cock. "I'll make sure you don't try pushing this thing out by working it in… here!"

"Aghghghgfhfhfhfhfffffffffff!"

He jammed the tube right into her urethra, laughing as her shrieks echoed through the room. Catheterized! And he was fitting something around her hips – a belt of some sort with straps that were attached to the tube, keeping it in place.

"Now, if you keep control, nothing'll happen," Mike explained. "But if you lose control, you'll be drinking you own piss!"

And Krystal was reasonably certain Mike would do everything in his power to make her lose control. This was yet another horrid lesson, another terror she would have to endure – and all because her mother had wanted her disciplined!

"Now, then, all that's in place," Mike said, checking the mouth fitting, tugging the hose, and making sure it was shoved all the way into her throat.

Krystal swallowed hard, the rubber tube making her gag. She could feel her bladder filling, rebelling against the foreign object prodding her sensitive flesh. No. No. She had to keep control. She had to prevent her body from giving up, from releasing the urine that would surely choke her! What was terrible was the fact that Krystal couldn't see what Mike was doing. The leather hood fitted tightly over her eyes, no slits available for sight.

"Maybe I'd like to see just how sensitive your apples are."

Krystal could hear him breathing, breathing like the aroused animal he was. He was behind her now, feeling her asscheeks, rubbing his fingers up and down her tight little asscrack. There was fumbling. And then she heard the sound of something stroking against sandpaper. Matches! He was lighting matches around her, and Krystal couldn't do a thing about it. She tugged at the wretched bonds, her body taut, damp with perspiration while the smell grew more and more intense. In a moment she felt the heat of a burning match up against the right side of her face. She stood still, her cheeks twitching, her spittle gathering behind the tube as the girl waited for the burning touch of the flame.

"Uhhhfhhfhffffff!"

He was moving the flames around the leather hood, then down to the base of her throat. Twice the tip of the fire brushed against her throat, singeing her flesh lightly, making the girl cry out then whimper as she pulled futilely at the overhead chains. Mike chuckled softly to himself, drawing the fire up to her forehead, then back down to her throat, finally placing it right below her left nipple. Again, the teen swallowed hard, feeling the kissing warmth of the fire against her tit tip.

"You're getting hard there, Krystal. In spite of your fear, you're getting aroused. Are you always like this, Krystal?"

"Mmmfmfmmfffff!"

She wanted to scream, no! She wanted to tell him to take that wretched fire from her nipple! But all she could do was think of the pain that would soon rack her body! She shuddered, feeling her thigh muscles twitch. When Mike let the tip of the flame barely touch her nipple, the girl shrieked, jerking her head back and biting down on the latex hose. It was as if someone had pricked her nipple with a tiny hot piss. Still the terror of not being able to see what was happening gripped her heart like an icy hand. She lost control, and in a second Krystal tasted something very warm and salty in her mouth and throat: piss! She was pissing on herself and in herself, gagging on her own urine! Coughing, her nostrils and eyes burning from the dry heaves rocking her, the young teen managed to regain control and close off her throat to the piss.

"You see what can happen when you're not careful," Mike said, guessing what had occurred. "Now we're going to try again."

The fire grew hot around her right nipple, the heat like a painful licking tongue touching her tit tip, making the pink flesh red and stiff stretching up from around her wrinkling areola. Krystal's knees shivered as Mike moved the match from her nipple, then finally shoved it hard up against the tip. The fire was burning her! She could smell the burning flesh just as the shock of pain blew into her head.

"Eaghghghghf!"

Krystal felt herself pining again, her bladder muscles fluttering, sending up streamers of urine through the black tube and into her throat. She coughed and gagged, fearing she would choke on the piss if she didn't swallow fast. The match was gone, thank God! She could hear Mike swearing, and guessed he had burned himself from his curse-Good! He should suffer for all the pain and agony he was causing her.

"Let me try something a little stronger for this, Krystal. You're getting a little better at control. You stopped your own urine just after you started pissing on yourself. Good. Now, here's a good challenge for you."