Ted Leonard: Disciplined daughter

Pretty little Cindy Farmer thought she was pretty clever. She was the first girl under the age of nineteen to become a member of the high school gang, the Jet-Savers. She was as tall as an nineteen-year-old, as curvy as a nineteen-year-old and, as it turned out, as sexy as a nineteen-year old.

At first the older girls laughed at her for even dreaming of becoming a Jet-Saver – the female arm of the Jetsons, a gang of senior high boys who preferred orgies to baseball. The tough Jet-Savers, in their leather jackets and tight denims, scoffed at Cindy and ridiculed her. She was only a tenth-grader, beneath them, too naive, too young. But Cindy proved them wrong.

She hounded the older girls so often that they finally – laughingly – agreed to let her try to pass their initiation tests. Every chick had to undergo the same trials before she could become a Jet-Saver. Cindy proudly and confidently accepted the challenge.

To the girls' surprise Cindy passed every damned test. She stole a teacher's wallet, the first test. She spit into the face of a female teacher, the second test. She defied school and parental authority without flinching or crying like a baby, the third test. Then came test number four, the biggest and the most secret.

Sworn to secrecy, Cindy had to suck the cock of every member of the Jetsons. The vital test took place in an abandoned warehouse, supervised by the Jet-Savers. The guys lined up against a wall and Cindy had to kneel before them, one at a time, and blow them until they shot their wads down her throat.

Feeling frisky and looking foxy, Cindy attacked the test with her usual verve and enthusiasm. Without batting an eye, she knelt dutifully before each guy and took his prick out. She licked and lapped and sucked each cock until the guy was groaning with tremendous release. Then she crawled over to the second, guy, then the third, the fourth, the fifth. Her sexy young mouth sucked and sucked her throat gulped and gulped hot jism. The Jet-Savers looked on with growing admiration as the young girl blew fifteen cocks in a row.

After the fifteenth prick had pumped its creamy come into her mouth, Cindy got to her feet feeling proud and accomplished. She grinned lewdly at the older girls and wiped jism away from her pouting young lips and jutting tits.

She felt older after eating fifteen stiff cocks, and she haughtily claimed her membership in the Jet-Savers. The older girls laughed together but accepted her into their raunchy club. Cindy was happy.

But she never got to enjoy that membership. She had come into a secret organization after it had been active for almost four years. She didn't know it, but the Jetsons and the Jet-Savers were into more than private little orgies. They had branched out into pornographic film-making. The Jetsons and the Jet-Savers starred in these hot flicks and they made money hand over fist – until the bust.

Cindy was home on that Friday night, preparing for her first orgy. Now that she was a Jet-Saver she could join in the fun. She told her parents she was going to a church service across town. In her bedroom she removed her bra and panties and wore only a short mini dress for the exciting occasion. That's when the juvenile authorities showed up at the door.

Cindy's mother and father were shocked to their roots when they learned the sordid details about what was going on at school behind their backs. As law-abiding, God-fearing people, they felt it was their duty to punish their daughter in some way. All the Jetsons and all the Jet-Savers were in jail. But Cindy was too young.

Mr. and Mrs. Farmer inquired of discreet friends what they might do with their naughty little girl. The answer was the Fairfield Home for Wayward Girls, about a hundred miles away. Regina Fairfield, they were told, was a reputable woman of about fifty years of age with great experience dealing with unruly girls. Her late husband, it was said, had been a policeman for twenty years.

Cindy learned much later that Mr. Fairfield had never been a policeman. Until his death in 1980 he had been an executioner – the man who pulled the switch to the electric chair on condemned criminals in the state prison.

When it came time to ship Cindy to her home away from home, her parents were abject but determined. "This is for your own good," her father assured her, giving her a farewell kiss.

Her mother hugged her and cried a few tears and sniffled. "If you had only been a good girl Cindy. Now see what you've brought on yourself? Please do well at the home, darling. Mrs. Fairfield is there to teach you all the things your father and I can't."

No matter what her mother and father said about Regina Fairfield, Cindy hated the woman's guts even before seeing her. Once she saw the lady, she hated her more.

She arrived at a country estate that seemed to be miles from everything. Huge black gates swung open and closed behind the car with a clang of finality. Cindy noticed with some misgivings that the gates and the fences were all electrified.

The big car pulled up to a huge mansion-like home. Cindy was ushered through more gates that were always locked and apparently electrified. Inside the house, the doors were locked securely behind her. Cindy felt uneasy.

Two young women appeared in white starched shirts and black miniskirts and knee high leather boots. They escorted her upstairs to a rather plush dormitory of about fifty beds. She was shown her bed and locker and her luggage was deposited there. She was permitted to go to the bathroom when she said she had to take a piss.

In the bathroom was a girl, younger than herself, who looked absolutely spineless. She looked weak and fearful and meek. It was then that Cindy realized that so far every girl she'd seen there looked the same way.

"What kind of place is this?" Cindy asked the girl after she took her leak. "You look frightened."

The girl was frightened. Her dark eyes shot a hurried glance ceiling ward and her lips quivered. Cindy looked up and saw a closed circuit camera. "Well, I'll be damned," she murmured. "Big Brother watches."

"It's no joke," the girl whispered, pretending to wash her hands at a sink.

"I can see that," Cindy muttered. "But why are you so chicken? Cripes, it's just a home run by a little old lady. And you didn't get here because you're a sweet little thing. Where's your balls? Everybody looks so damned docile around here!"

The girl gasped to hear these words. She turned and hurried away from the newcomer. But as she passed Cindy, she rasped, "Obey. Obey her. God – obey her!" Then she was gone.

Cindy wondered about that for a moment. Then she peered up at the eye of the watchful camera. She grinned defiantly and stuck her thumb to her nose. Then she walked out of the bathroom.

The two matrons walked her out of the dormitory and down the stairs to the private offices of Regina Fairfield who was waiting for her.

The woman stood up behind her huge oaken desk when Cindy was brought to her. Cindy looked her over. She was fifty all right, as thin as a rail and a titless wonder. Regina Fairfield was wearing a uniform of some kind, a starched, well-pressed shirt tucked tightly into the same color greenish pants, well-creased. Around her slim waist was a thick, two-inch wide belt. Her black eyes were wild-looking, her neck skinny, her thin mouth tight-lipped. To Cindy she looked like a woman who might have run a female concentration camp in Nazi Germany.

"Welcome to Fairfield, Cindy," Mrs. Fairfield greeted. Her eyes probed the girl's, looking for something.

Cindy stared right back at her, her chin held high. Anger rose in her and her taut young tits rose, too, as she breathed hotly. "Save your God damned welcomes," she snarled. "Who do you think you are? What kind of a place is this anyway? All these girls should be home with their parents, no matter what they did. What right do you have to keep us here?"