Kathy Andrews - Disciplined mother

"You've got a fine body… nearly as fine as mine. I'm glad you're that well-endowed," Linda said. "It'll make things a little easier for you here."

"Easier?"

"You'll find out. Now, please turn and put your hands behind your back."

Krystal obeyed, her bare feet starting to ache from having stood on the concrete floor for so long. She did as she was told. When she turned around she saw Linda had produced a fourteen inch length of cord.

With experienced fingers, Linda looped the line around Krystal's wrists and bound them firmly together. The girl gasped, her eyes widening as she bent over and tried to move her hands apart. What was going on? Again, she asked that question, trying to pull her wrists from one another. They were tying her up. For what reasons? She wasn't a prisoner! Her mother would see her in this condition and demand she be released. There had to be some horrible mistake.

"Now, you'll come with me."

Krystal had known discomfort and embarrassment before. But nothing like this!

Linda gripped her bare arm, opened the door and pushed her back into the hall. Krystal was terrified of meeting others in the hall. But it was deserted. The girls must be in class – or worse, she thought, wondering if they all had gone through this terrible initiation. Linda led her down another hall, this one far larger than the first. They stopped in front of an oak door with the words "Director of Scholastic Administration" embossed in the wood. Linda reached forward, pushing it open.

"Step inside. I think you'll find your mother there."

It was a comfortable study, luxuriously furnished. Krystal was mortified. There, sitting stiffly in a chair was her mother. Mike was sitting behind an ornate desk, a pleasant smile of welcome on his face. Carla let out a cry of horror, then tried to control herself as Mike gestured her to be quiet.

Krystal felt herself become one big blush as she was positioned before Mike's desk. With three pairs of eyes fixed on her, she fought the natural urge to shrink and cry. What was going on here? Why had her comfortable little world been shattered this cruelly? And for what reason?

"I see you've been prepared for school. This is our uniform – for the novices, anyway, until they've been indoctrinated. Your mother approves. She feels you need some discipline before you go out into the world. I, in turn, agree." Mike smiled at her.

"Mother, what's going on here? Why did you send me here?"

"Enough of that!"

Linda pulled a large white handkerchief from her pocket, flicked it open, then slipped it around the girl's mouth. Krystal screamed, her cries muffled by the cotton as Linda tied it tightly around her head. Carla stood to protest. But again, Mike gestured for her to be seated.

Krystal felt panic gripping her heart like an icy finger, her toes curling into the carpeting as she stood there bound and gagged before the small group.

"People have different ideas about discipline. I, for one, believe in the firmest use of it. Your mother's experienced some of my methods and approves of them, right Carla? It might happen that later on she can participate in some of them."

"You, you"

Carla wanted to scream. But for the sake of her daughter she kept quiet, scratching her fingernail against the arm rest and wondering how she could rescue her daughter without creating a scandal.

"If you behave you'll find you can wear the uniforms to class. Otherwise, you'll stay as you are now – bound and naked. Is that clear?"

Krystal felt as if he were pronouncing a death sentence on her. Discipline? This was the discipline of the Nazi concentration camps! Once more, Krystal tried working the bonds from her wrists. But her movements were only making the chafing sensation worse.

"Now, you'll go with Linda. Carla, I think you can go home now. Your daughter's in fine hands."

"Krystal…"

It was the last thing she heard her mother say for a long time. Linda led her from the study quickly, pushing her down the corridor. Three more girls shuffled past, one of them as naked as she. The tall redhead shot her a sympathetic glance, then moved her eyes back to the floor. Krystal stumbled hurriedly, trying to keep pace with Linda.

"Now, you go into the Training Room. Mike's provided a program tailored to most girls' needs. I think you'll find this interesting."

It was a maze of halls, none of them having windows to the outside. Krystal looked around her frantically, feeling as if she had fallen into some private hellish nightmare from which she would never waken. More girls passed her, no one daring to look up. Then they came to another door, this one metal with studs all around the outside. Linda opened it, shoving the teen through.

It was a large room. Widely spaced posts rose from the floor to the low ceiling. Against one of them, Krystal saw another teen bound, her body naked. The girl looked at them briefly, then returned her gaze to a short brunette who was also naked and was sobbing audibly. There were red marks on her sides and tummy, indications that someone had been beating her.

"There."

Linda shoved her against a pillar, encircling Krystal's waist with a strap, cinching it tightly. The "guard", as Krystal was to think of her later, took off the handkerchief and wiped her lips with it.

"There. You don't have to look so worried, Krystal. That's a very pretty name," Linda said, smoothing two fingers over the girl's tits.

Krystal shivered, her back hurting from being pressed so hard against the pillar. The sobbing of the other girl grew worse, making Krystal nervous as she felt Linda's hands caressing her.

Maybe it was because she was so afraid, or perhaps it was because of a certain look in Linda's eyes that triggered something dark inside her, but Krystal began feeling a kind of odd excitement rising in her. Linda could see it too and licked her lips, drawing closer to her.

Linda's errant hand was moving down pest her navel, caressing the fine downy hairs covering her white flesh, then reaching down into her cuntal hair. Krystal shuddered, rubbing her hands against her thighs, wanting to protest, but unable to find the words. Her flesh seemed to be covered with hundreds of prickly ants, her cunt lips starting to swell and moisten.

"I… I don't know what you're doing to… to me, but stop!"

Linda was about to speak. But she as interrupted by Mike's sudden appearance.

"Your mother left. She'll join us, perhaps, later on in your training."

"I've taken care of her, Mike. She's tied well to the post."

"Well, maybe, but not well enough. Not for someone, new to the school and its ways. Let me finish," he said, taking more cord from Linda and moving behind the trembling blonde teen. "Oh, no, no, don't touch me! You're hurting me!" Krystal cried.

It was a horrid nightmare. She felt the line drawn under her armpits and up over her shoulders, crossed behind her and knotted tightly. Krystal found herself held firmly, her shoulders wrenched back so that the cords bit deep and burned each time she sucked in a breath.

"Uhhhh, it's so… so tight!"

"As I hope you are, Krystal."

"I think she's a virgin. You want me to find out?" Linda asked, the corners of her lips curling into a broad smile.

"Yes. Why don't you do that? Krystal might think I was doing something offensive if I reached in to check her cherry!"

"No! No! Don't touch me there! Oh, it's not right! It's just not right!" she screamed, feeling Linda's fingers caressing her pussy, forcing the smooth pink lips apart and probing deep into her cuntal channel. Krystal reddened, sensing Linda's finger corkscrewing up her pussy, her fingernail scraping her cuntal walls until it touched her tight little cherry.

"She's virgin, alright," Linda said, her voice nearly breathless with excitement.