Lyceum Alpinum [MC, cg, l]

... will arrive at your school on November, 21th.
We want to express our utmost gratitude to you for taking care of our daughter.


Best regards

Mr & Mrs Fenner“

With a sigh I fold the letter, put it down on the desk and lean back in my chair. Another girl arriving soon, one in a steady stream of girls who come to this school. A few are sent here by their parents because they think their daughters aren't good for anything but being married, some because they brought disgrace on their families by having an unwanted child. Most, however, are runaways sent here by the authorities.
It doesn't really matter where they come from or why they are being sent here, tho. In this institution, they're all the same: Girls who learn how to run a household and be a good wife to a husband or servant to their employer. And of course they learn the most important things a young girl needs to learn: Discipline and obediance.

Once they leave, they are perfect housewives or housemaids. The difference between those two is meaningless. Neither of the two get to choose who will be running their lives. And the job description is the same for both too: To keep the house in order and their husband/employer happy.
Sure, some of the girls being sent here by their rich parents look down on the poor souls from lower classes. Not for long, though. They are all treated the same here, and eventually all learn that they are not only treated the same, they indeed are the same.

I get up and look out of the window, savouring the beautiful view in the fading light. The mountains with the first snow, the dark forests and brown meadows, the potholed gravel road and finally the village far below in the valley. Sometimes, after a particularly heavy snowfall, we're cutoff for a whole week or more.
Besides myself there are only two other teachers here: Miss Willi, a local who runs the kitchen and teaches cooking and waiting at table. Mrs Blanc, a widow well in her fifties, teaches all the other chores: Ironing, washing, cleaning, you name it. And finally there is Peter, the janitor. Not much personnel to look after 24 pupils.

I hear the bell announcing dinner. Straightening my skirt and grabbing the cane I head down to the dining room. They all stand behind their chairs in their blouses and pleated skirts, waiting for me to inspect them. Neatly lined up in a straight line, backs straight, hands resting on the backs of their chairs, silent. Perfect.
„Hands!“ The girl I'm talking to immediately shows me her hands. I scrutinize them but she did a good job, no speck of dirt under her nails, nothing. „Good.“ She exhales, glad she's passed today.
On the next girl's blouse I spot a tiny speck of dust. „Lint! Three strokes.“ „Yes, Ma'am, i am very sorry.“ Good, at least she doesn't beg to be spared the punishment. If they fail, they should accept their punishment and learn from it, not start begging and pleading. She leans forward, bending at the waist, and pulls up her skirt. I pull down her white cotton panties and caress her firm buttocks. Then I step back and lash her three times fiercely across both buttcheeks. She clenches her teeth and sharply draws in air while tears well up in her eyes.
I raise my voice to speak to them all: „If you neglect yourself, you will neglect everything else too. Therefore negligence is not and will never be tolerated in this house.“
Nobody moves. They all have heard that a thousand times already, because it's one of the most important lessons they need to learn.
„Now enjoy your meal. Bon appetit.“ They all wait until I'm seated at the head of the table. I watch the girl I just caned sitting down carefully. Good, that will remind her for some time.

“Boarding School! You’ve got to be kidding me RIGHT?”
“No Michelle” dad says. “This is a proper school who will teach you how a young lady should behave.”
“OH Great! you’re sending me off to become a Stepford wife huh?”
“Michelle your school has expelled you. What do you want us to do? This is the only school we can find who is willing to accept a ‘special girl’ such as you.”

I notice Adam our chauffer is loading my luggage into the limousine, they really mean it this time. I am going to be sent to a boarding school.
I start to cry and hug my dad. I know I can always get him to see things my way once I start crying. He always has spoiled me, but he doesn’t hug me back. “Daddy” I cry are you really going to send me away?
“Yes”

“I am eighteen, I can go off on my own if I wish.”
“Yes you can” daddy replies. But you will be entirely on your own. “I will not give you a single penny.”
“No fair” I think to myself. Daddy has spoiled me to be the perfect rich bitch. I don’t know how to work a job nor would I ever want to. He has always given me everything I wanted and now he says he won’t give me anything?
“Okay, I guess I am going to some yokel boarding school to learn how to be a ‘proper lady’”

“Just to be sure Adam is going to drive you to the school and see that you arrive safely” daddy says. What he really means is he wants to be sure I don’t escape and go run off with some friends.

I slide into the backseat and settle in for a long drive. I look at the back of Adam’s and think if only he were thirty years younger I would fuck him until his cock fell off and then he would release me.

Lord knows how many men, and women, I have fucked thus far in life.
I can’t help myself. I enjoy it and I am good at it…

I relax in the comfort of my own bed, king size, Egyptian cotton sheets; it beats the hell out of the prison bunk I had slept in over the weekend.

I am too well-rested to go to sleep, and in too much trouble to sneak out, so instead I ponder what my life has come to so far. Cantrelle Farthing. Almost 30 years old, in and out of various colleges, boarding schools too, for that matter, each one not quite as prestigious as the one before. Certainly no degree to show for it, just a stinking high school diploma and a lot of art history classes. An arrest record, updated just this past weekend, for a variety of minor drug crimes, shoplifting, and theft by deception.

Some would say that I have a crappy life, but I disagree. I still get invited to the best parties. Actually, I throw most of them myself: Super Bowl, St. Paddy's Day, my birthday, Halloween, Christmas, New Years, too many more to name. People love me.

But this time I might have gone too far. Daddy is talking about cutting me off. He's talked about it before to be sure, but this time, he just seems, well, more serious.

My thoughts are interrupted by a loud crashing noise, and in a flash, there are people in my room, men, maybe, but a lot of them seem smaller, women, but they're in dark blue uniforms like a swat team or some shit. In a second they are upon me, holding me down.

With almost no trouble they flip me over onto my stomach, and cuff my wrists behind my back. My ankles are shackeld in a similar fashion, then a chain is dragged around my waist. Finally a ball, some sort of gag is shoved into my mouth and starpped around my head, catching my long blonde curls, pulling on them.

As the uniformed women march me out of my home, barefoot, clad in my pajamas, and shackled like some sort of real criminal, I catch site of my family. Daddy refuses to look at me. Mother is weeping softly. Danielle, my teenage sister, just smiles and waves at me. Holy shit, they did this to me.

The uniformed women shove me unceremoniously into the back of a van, then one of them gets in behind me. I look at her pleadingly, and she responds by pulling a heavy hood down over my head. Oh shit, I'm in trouble.

I don't know how much time passes, but the van eventually draws to a stop. "Well bitch," one of the unifromed women says, "we're here."

I am dropped unceremoniosuly out of the van. It's cold, and the garvel below me bites at my knees, and as I stand, my bare feet.

'Yeah, but where is here,' I think to myself.

"Here is where you learn to behave. Here is where you realize that life is no party but hard work, sweat and tears. There are several ways to learn that. Painful ones, easy ones. But learn it you will." I look at her. A cute blonde with a nice frame. And a brat if I ever have seen one. And I've seen many.
I step out of the shade. "I am Ma'am. That's Ma'am to you, with a capital "M"."
She just glares at me, ready to run. "Peter, I think this one needs the special treatment. Bring her to the basement and lock her up. I will take care of her in the morning."
I watch as the gardener leads the girl away. She's struggling, but obviously still too dumbfounded to put up any real resistance. Besides, she has still cuffed her wrists behind her back and her ankles are shackled, allowing only small steps. She'll be put in a cell. No restraints, but no way to get out either. Nothing more disgusting than a girl wetting her pants because she can't help herself to the toilet. I shudder at the thought.

How I hate it when we get a "special delivery", especially when it's in the middle of the night. I need my sleep. After all, turning brats into humbly servants is hard work. Very enjoyable, but still hard.
I go back to my bedroom, where Cynthia is awaiting me. She'll help me relax before she's sent back to the dormitory. Right now, she is my favourite plaything, a luscious redhead with a very skilfull tongue.

I am thankful at least to have the hood removed. Still, I don't get a good look at the woman addressingme from the shade. Did I catch her name? No, not really. She just called herself "Ma'am."

My thoughts are interrupted as a calloused masculine hand wraps itself tightly around my right arm and starts to drag me still chained toward an ominous brick and stone building. "Ow, ow, ouch," I cry as I am walked over more of the sharp gravel." When my feet finally hit damp grass, "I cry what the fuck are you doing with me? Where the fuck am I?"

The man doesn't so much answer me, but he does offer something, advice maybe. "Hush girl, mind your manners, behave, do what Ma'am tells you, and you'll do okay here." With that he opens a wooden cellar door and leads me down a set of smooth stone steps.

My mind races wildly. 'Shit, they're going to lock me in a cellar,' I think, and sure enough he does. Peter reaches down and locks another length of chain to teh one conecting my ankles. I can see with his flashlingt that it runs to a metal plate fixed into the stone floor. "Shit," I mutter. Peter turns his flashlight up so I can see his crooked grin. He's enjoying this.

With a "good night miss," Peter disappears up the steps along with his flashlight, and closes the cellar door, leaving me alone, chained in the darkness.

It is late the next morning when we arrive at the boarding school.
Adam places my luggage on the front stairs and drives off as some powerful looking woman approaches me. I expect her to talk in a heavy tone to go with her looks but she speaks in a soft but commanding manner.

“You will address me as Ma’am and nothing else.”
Some guy picks up my luggage and starts inside with it but he only takes it to a closet downstairs and locks the door.
“What are they doing with my luggage? Don’t they know I need my clothes?” Oh well I will play their game for now.

Ma’am shows me upstairs to my room. It isn’t a room, it looks like a closet with a cot in it. The cot takes up half the space in the room.

Ma’am instructs me to strip off my clothing. “NO WAY!” I snap at her but before I know it she has stepped outside and some giant man has come into my room.
He strips off my clothes while she watches from the doorway.

“Wait till I tell my dad about this!” I yell at her.
I fight the giant with all my strength but it is useless. “Is he going to rape me?”
Instead he places shackles on me and chains each of my wrists and each of my ankles so that I am trapped in a spread eagle position naked on my back.

The giant steps out of the room and Ma’am enters again. “You WILL follow all commands given to you, is that understood?”
I start to yell “fuck you” at her but before I can get the first word out of my mouth she slaps my pussy HARD with a riding crop.
I can’t speak, all I do is yell. She spanks me three more times. By now I am crying uncontrollably. My pussy is throbbing with pain.
I think she is done but she slaps each of my nipples hard three times with the crop.

I am crying so hard now that I can not see through my tears.
The hitting stops and after some time I realize I am alone in my room with the door open.
Several women walking by look into my room. They seem to have a look of pity on their face’s

What kind of boarding school is this?
Why did daddy put me here…

Pheeww! What a day! And it's only noon. First we don't have any new pupils for about a month and then we get two in less than twelve hours. And not just two easy ones, no, it has to be two royal bitches. That Michelle and..., hmmm, what was the name of the other one again? they are going to be tough ones. After all those years I know trouble when I see it. Those two smell like trouble about a mile upwind.

I went to check on the blonde one in the basement early in the morning, brought her breakfast, and a decent one too. Coffee, bread, butter, jam.
"I want cornflakes and yoghurt and pancakes" she cried, after having me called names for the better part of five minutes. I just looked at her, shaking my head. Then, when she threw the tray with the breakfast to the floor, I caned her. She didn't see it coming, which made it just more painful. She crawled on the floor, trying to protect herself. To no avail, of course. Ten strokes, not even very hard ones, and she was a sobbing heap on the floor, begging me to stop.
But she'll be back. After a couple of hours they start to forget the pain, take up the fight again. But we have time, lots of time.
"I told you, sweetie: There are two ways to learn the lesson you will learn here. Tough or easy. It's your decision. Personally I don't care either way."

The other girl is probably even worse. Michelle. An uppity bitch right out of the book, already closing in on her 30th birthday. If she hasn't learned the basics by now, she will have a hard time at this age. She too is asking for a beating and gets it. I leave her alone, fetch a skirt and a blouse and return not much later.
"To wear clothes is a privilege you have to earn in this school. Get on your knees and apologize for your behaviour and I might think about giving you that privilege."

I have enjoyed my romance with Gerald, the wealthy businessman, but need to end it because I see we are really not meant for each other. He has taken me to many fancy restaraunts, great parties and so on, but I don't want to continue to see him. I also miss my home in the USA and wants to return back to the USA soon.

So I put on a red summer dress and heels, and call a cab and go his mansion in the hills. He seems to take it well. After I finish, he calls on intercom for his driver to take me back to my room. He mentions that it is code 7 request on intercom. He explains to me that is just a code that means to stop what you are doing and come immediately. The driver arrives seconds later along with two of the security guards. The guards quickly grab my arms and cuff my wrists behind me. "What's going on?" I ask alarmed. Gerald looks at me, "Well my little American bitch, you used me and now want to be done with me. But I have other plans for you...you are going back to your room but it is not your hotel room." Before I could reply a ball gag with chin strap is shoved into my mouth and fastened in place. I look at Gerald wide eyed. He looked sternly at me, "Take her to the same place you took the last gold digging bitch." I am quickly pushed out of the room and down the hallway and into the back seat of a waiting car. The security guards get in on eitehr side of me , and then the driver gets in and we drive off. I have no idea where they are taking me to!!!

I lie on the cold stone floor of the cellar whimpering for god knows how long. My back and thighs flame with pain. 'What did I do to deserve this, to deserve to be locked in a cellar, chained like an animal, beaten like something less than an animal?'

When I have cried myself out, I shift around trying to find a more comfortable position. There really isn't one, so I choose to stand. I pace around the cellar, trying to take stock of my surroundings. Unfortunately it is dark as pitch, and I can see nothing. Likewise, the chain tethering me to the floor keeps me from being able to reach any of the walls.

I am so thirsty, but my bladder is starting to fill too. I squat and piss. Fortunately my urine runs away from me, probably toward some sort of drain. Still, I can't help bu accidentally step in it. "Gross," I mutter aloud, "fucking gross."

Suddenly, the cellar floods with light, and the woman returns. She just kind of stares at me. I'm not sure what her game is, but I know that I do not want another caning. Finally, I speak, "excuse me Ma'am, but I think I can, ah, eat decently now."

(OOC Character's name is Cantrelle Farthing. You should have that courtesy of her parents)

„Do you?“ I look at her, then at the floor. „First you have to clean that mess, though. Mel, bring a bucket and a rag.“ The girl hurries while I unshackle Cantrelle. She tries to have a go at me and a second later the bitch lies writhing on the floor, once again emptying her bladder. My line of work has become much easier since the invention of tasers, there's no denying that. But the peeing is just disgusting.
„So much for eating decently.“ When she's regaining consciousness again, we walk her to the cleaning room. Neatly tiled from floor to ceiling, with a drain in the middle of it. Enough rings set in the ceiling and the walls to chain a dozen girls at one time. We shackle her wrists to two of the rings in the ceiling, her ankles wide apart on the floor. Just for good measure I pull her up with a lever set in the wall until she's on the tip of her toes.
She's staring at me with horror. Good. Perfect, even. Although, I prefer when the girls love me, fear is almost as good. I grab a hose and start to shower her with icecold water. Mel knows her job and scrubs her with a large, rough brush. She's a good girl, docile, obedient, hardworking, almost ready to be sold. She will go at a good price and do our school much honor. Of course she doesn't know that she will auctoned off.
By now Cantrelle has regained full consciousness again and is struggling against her restraints. I approach her, the special hose in my hand. It's perfectly suited to wash orifices. „Relax, sweetie, or it will hurt“ I say soothingly, knowing well enough that no girl is capable to relax in that situation. She is no exception to the rule. She wiggles and wriggles, trying to avoid the inevitable. Ahh, I feel myself getting wet, there's nothing more beautiful than a girl struggling.
I rinse her vagina thoroughly, then her butt, the cold water running down her legs.
„You're still walking down the wrong road, sweetie. Hard or easy, pain or pleasure. It's your choice.“
She doesn't answer, just stares at me.
I turn towards Mel. „Feed her and give her something to drink, but let her stay like that until I return.“

With that I leave her to dry and think.

The scrub brush returns my caning to the forefront of my mind, as its cruel bristles bite at the welts that still crisscross my back and thighs. I sob as Ma'am and the other girl continue at their work.

I was then taken quite by surprise as I felt a nozzle enter my vagina, letting warm water flow into me. I should not have been surprised, yet I was, when the nozzle was moved to my anus. Again, warm water flowed through me, this time filling my abdomen. How to describe the sensation. It hurt, but it was not a sharp pain like the cane or the brush, more a sense of fullness that I could not be rid off...at least until the nozzle was removed, and the water, mixed with shit ran down my legs toward the drain below. I must admit, I was quite thankful when that residual waste too was washed from me.

My heart lightens at the mention of food and drink. I am of course disappointed to find that it includes little more than a few sips from a water bottle, a dry nutritional bar of some sort, and a vitamin, all taken while I stand there, still chained, raised upon my toes.

As the hours pass after my shower and meal, the burning in my toes and calves continues to rise. I am left to wonder only when Ma'am will return.

They put a blindfold on me before driving off. They make a bunch of turns to make me lose track of where I am, but that is not really needed as my sense of direction is bad to begin with! After what seems like hours the car stops. I am pulled out and led, with a hand on each arm somewhere. I hear a doorbell ring...the door opens...I hear voices "Gerald sending this one here too" "We will take care of her" I am told to take a couple steps forward and then I hear the guards and driver leaving, and the door closing. I wonder what will happen to me next.

When I awake it is dark outside. The giant steps into my room and releases my wrists and ankles temporarily. He locks my wrists to my ankles and forces me into a kneeling position on the ground. I wait to feel the sting of a whip but instead a portly woman walks in and places a bowl of something disgusting on the floor in front of me.
“Eat” she commands and walks out of my room.

I am so hungry that I lean forward to see what the ‘food’ is. It smells disgusting and looks even more hideous than it smells. Hunger however is getting the better of me and I kneel forward and take a bight of the mystery food.
YUCK! I spit it out immediately. I wonder if the woman eats this herself. That would explain her nasty disposition.

I try to straighten up to get away from that fowl bowl of ‘whatever’ but forget my wrists are bound to my ankles. Before I know it I have fallen on my side forced into a painful fetal position.

“How long till someone returns to move me” I wonder. The answer is not pleasant. I awoke to sunlight streaming into my room. I have been trapped here all night! I obviously fell asleep but why did no one return for me?
“OH GOD!” I messed myself in my sleep!
I start crying again out of pain, hunger and humiliation. Why are they doing this to me? Wait until I tell daddy how they are treating me.

Someone finally enters my room. It is the giant and Ma’am…

That's not going to work like this. A mere hour ago another new one arrived, and lo and behold, it's a brat. Who would have guessed...
Peter leads her downstairs and locks her up in a cell, without restraints, tho. I go down a short while later to give her the intro speach. I take off her blindfold. She's a cute one, but like the other newbies she seems determined to put up a fight.
"Sweetie, you don't need to be afraid. Nothing bad will happen to you. That is, if you cooperate. If you don't, you will go through hell. I prefer the easy way, because it's easier for me too. But rest assured, I have no problem with giving you hell either. Think, sweetie."

I leave her and order one of the girls to bring her some food and water. Then it's time for Michelle. I take Peter with me. The poor bloke should be doing some gardening, not carry them chicks around. She still glares. But this time out of puffy eyes. She cried, obviously. Good.
"Good morning, Michelle. Did you rest well?"
"I tell daddy! He'll see to it that you go to chail for all that. No, the electric chair. You're crazy. You're a crazy bitch!" I wait until she has stopped screaming. Then i step forward and smack her hard across the face.
"First, in this house there is no place for foul language. Not for the girls anyway." She starts to cry again. Then I untie her wrists and pull her to her feet. "Then, who do you think has sent you here? It wasn't me, but if you really want, we go to my office and call your dad. Would you like to call your dad and be told that it was him who sent you here?"
She doesn't answer, but her eyes show that the truth is dawning on her. Then I see the mess she has made.
"Peter, please see to it that one of the girls cleans this room. I take Michelle down. She will come out of the basement when she's learned the basics." I grab Michelle by the hair and pull her after me to the washing room. Cantrelle seems to have softened, but I tell her to be quiet or else.
Michelle is chained in the same fashion as Cantrelle. The treatment is different, however. I pinch her nose and hold her mouth for a long time and then releas the grip on her mouth. When she opens her mouth wide to breathe I insert a large dildo which I then fasten to her head. Then force her jaws even wider apart and insert a ring. Her mouth is now wide open, her jaws probably hurting.
Now, with the secured behind her teeth, I pull the dildo out again. She seems to be relieved, but not for long. With a rough brush and lots of soap I start to clean her mouth. "Gotta wash all that dirty language out of that mouth, right?" She retches, her eyes wide with fear and panic.
Then it's the rest of her body. When I am done I leave her to dry and think and turn my attention to Cantrelle.

"Now to you, my dear. Did you have enough time to think? Have you come to a conclusion? If you want to play along, you may now ask for my permission to get down on your knees, kiss my feet and eat my pussy." She just stares at me. „Haven't ever eaten a pussy, huh? Well, it's never too late to start. So, what's it gonna be?“

'Oh my god,' I think, 'this sicko bitch wants me to eat her out.' I frown, close my eyes tightly, and look away for a few seconds before I finally slump, defeated, but still held upright by my chains.

"Please Ma'am, would you release my chains, so I can get on my knees, kiss your feet, and," I almost choke as I say it, "eat your pussy." During my freshman year, I had a brief lesbian romance, no, not even that, an encounter. It was fun no doubt, but all I did was kiss the girl, a slim Japanese-American, and well, I made her eat me out, but I would never do it for her. Now, here I am, about to be forced into it.

Ma'am chuckles softly, and the shackles go slack, slowly lowering me to my knees. I crawl over toward Ma'am, still on my knees, and lower my head toward the ground, until my lips touch her high-heeled sandals. I kiss the strap of the sandals first, then tentatively, I kiss her big toe, awaiting some sort of sign of approval before I go on.

"Yes, that's ok for a start. But I want to see some more dedication and enthusiasm." I tell her to stop and walk over to a chair. Seated, with my pussy at the edge of the seat, I cross my legs and held out one of the heels to her. "Crawl over here and suck the heel like it's a dick. I take it you know how to suck dick? Thought so. Good girl."

“God my mouth is bleeding and sore! She shoved a brush into my mouth!”
Then I’m left hanging there like a piece of meat. I am freezing. My body and hair are wet
and I am just hanging here to dry.

What is she doing to that other woman? She’s crawling over to Ma’am and sucking her shoes! Is that what’s waiting for me I wonder.

“No” I am not that lucky. After Ma’am finishes with the other woman she walks back to me. “So you like to wet yourself? We can’t have that.” The giant hands her a cellophane packet and then spreads my legs.
“NO!” I recognize it once away. It is a catheter. The hospital put one in me the last time I partied too hard and ended up in the emergency room.
But they gave me a morphine injection first and I was laying on my back. How much is this going to hurt and how will she do it while I am hanging here?

I soon have the answer. The giant is holding my ankles far apart while Ma’am starts to shove the tube into me. It’s hard to describe the pain. It sears from the friction of the tube and it also has the large pushing feeling as if she were shoving her first into me.
No matter how you describe the pain, IT HURTS LIKE HELL!

Finally the tube is in place and the giant releases my ankles. I am lowered from the chains and Ma’am hands me the catheter bag. “Hold onto this, if you spill one more drop of pee you will be beaten until you can no longer pee! I will not have a dirty slut at my school!”

I grab the bag and lower my head. I pray she won’t hurt me anymore. The giant leads me back to my room where he locks one of my ankles to the bed. I forget about the embarrassment I have just been through and pray someone will bring me some food soon.
I am so hungry I will lick the scraps off the floor if necessary…

That Michelle is really getting on my nerves with her peeing everywhere. The catheter is just the right thing for her. But I think she needs something to eat and drink so I send one of the girls with bread and water. That should be good enough, I don't want to spoil the bitch.
"Ma'am, I'll be outside, cutting the hedges if you need me."
"Thanks, Peter. I don't think so. I should be fine for the moment. But I have a hunch that Michelle could do with some entertainment, and if I'm not mistaken she's exactly your type of girl. But no hurry, she shall eat and drink and rest a little."
He grins at me "yes Ma'am. Much more fun if they're rested and up for some fun."
Peter's definitely not one of the brightest, but loyal, hardworking and very intimidating with his 6 foot 4 and 220 pounds. And a cock which fits his body size. Yes, Michelle is definitely in for some big fun.

I go get Cantrelle. She did a rather good job on my pussy, but she has a lot to learn yet. She follows me obediently while I lead her to a cell.
"You'll be staying here until I'm sure you're not trying anything funny. But you'll get decent food and clothes. And if you behave, you wont be hurt too much anymore." I fetch a skirt, one of the transparent blouses and high heels.
"Put this on, that's the clothes you will wear as long as you're here." Hmmm, she looks gorgeous in the super short skirt which barely covers her buttocks, her dark nipples pressing against the thin fabric of the blouse, her face still blushed with embarassment. I grab her hair, pull her close and kiss her passionately. She tastes nice, I will kiss her many more times in the coming months until she's ready to be sold.
"See you later, sweetheart."

Ooops, I almost forgot we have a third newby. I check on her and for once I am not screamed at and she doesn't try something funny. She's lying on the cot when I enter the cell, apparently sleeping. But she awakes as soon as I sit beside her. With puffy eyes and tousled hair she asks what will happen to her, why she's kept here and when she will be released.
"You'll learn to be a good girl, you're here because you messed with the wrong people and you will be here as long as it takes to make sure that you know how to behave." Looking down at her I tenderly caress her hair. She's a beauty too and the desperate look on her face make her features so much more appealing. I kiss her neck, cupping her breast and gently squeezing it. She jerks back first, trying to get away from under me, but soon enough starts to relax. I push her on her back, spreading her legs with my knees and slowly kiss her further and further down her body until my lips reach her pussy. By then she's moaning and holding my head, whispering 'yes, oohh yes'. Fucking her with two fingers and sucking her clit it doesn't take me too long to bring her to orgasm.
"You're doing great, honey. Just relax, settle in and you will have an easy time here. You'll be out of that cell and with the other girls in no time if you behave." I get up and bring her the same clothing as Cantrelle got. She too looks gorgeous. But then again, beautiful girls in skimpy skirts always look gorgeous.

I am taken and locked in a cell. I am some sort of prisoner, but what country locks someone up without a trial? A girl comes and talks to me about being a good girl and doing as I am told. I tell her "screw that I just want out of here. I want to speak to the American Ambassador." She simply ignores me and leaves. I get food and water later. Guess I am not going anywhere soon.

Times passes...I am left alone except for the girl who brings me food and water. I cry because I am scared. Maybe I will be locked up for a long time, maybe forever.

The same girl I met my first day who talked to me returns. She tells me I will be here until I learn to behave. I feel alone. She starts to kiss me, I pull away at first. I am as straight as they come. But eventually I let her kiss me and caress me, even let her touch my pussy and finger me. I have never even kissed a girl before today and now she just gave me a orgasm and I liked it too! I tell her my name is Minh and that I will be a good girl now. I hope she will let me out of this prison cell soon.