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Teenage Sex Slave -
Chapter 17
You talk about a strange place, that
bathroom sure qualified. The room was huge and had a number of shower stalls,
all glass and tile. There was a tub that was large enough to handle a small
boat. There was a toilet you could go swimming in that had a fold up platform
attached. Along one wall were a collection of tubes, hoses, fittings and enema
bags ranging from one quart to a gallon. What really made the place look like
something out of a bad scare um movie were the hooks hanging from the ceiling
at various spots. Looking at the floor, one could see at least four fairly
good-sized drains. Mrs. Shalawadi started struggling once she realized where
she was.
I provided the muscle and Fateena did the
honors, unfolding the platform which came equipped with straps at strategic
points. We wrestled Mrs. S to the table-like structure and strapped her down on
her back. Now the thin woman with the riding crop took charge and Fateena's
mother began sobbing and begging. The overweight teen pushed a button and the
top portion of the platform fell away leaving the woman's head supported only
by the closed toilet seat.
Shabaz now straddled her victim's chest
and grabbed her hair firmly in both hands. At a nod from her, the teen pushed
anther button and the toilet seat swung away revealing a revolting mass of piss
and turds, both floating and submerged. The stench was awful. Mrs. S began
wailing, but that quickly ended as the commandant pushed her head down into the
bubbling swamp and held her there despite her struggles. A sudden burst of
bubbles signaled that Mrs. S was now taking on as much of the mess as her belly
could hold.
Fateena began rubbing her crotch furiously
at the sight of her mother drowning in piss and shit, some of which the girl
probably contributed. The older woman tightened her grip on Mrs. S who was in a
bad way and getting worse as the seconds elapsed. I guessed they had done this
little treatment more than just a few times the way neither of them acted as
Fateena's mom continued to chow down on those big fat turds and the golden
nectar that had probably been aging for at least a day. At last she was brought
to the surface, her face ashen and skin cold and clammy. Shabaz began punching
Mrs. S in the belly, dealing her rapid, sharp blows that had the desired
effect, forcing the woman to start vomiting up everything she had consumed
since she went under.
Twice more Mrs. Shalawadi went for a nice long swim in the filth contained
in that big toilet bowl. After the third trip we had to unstrap and put her
over the edge of the huge tub and pound on her back until she upchucked half
the contents of the bowl. Fateena whispered that her mom was given this
treatment by the hour while she was in prison, and three or four times she
nearly died. The commandant ordered me to get hard and start ass fucking Mrs. S
again and make it hurt! Fateena dropped to her knees and inhaled my cock until
she could tongue the bottom of my ball sack. She might be a fat slob, but she was
real good at oral. I was still wondering when she was going to deliver that
asshole as she promised previously.
It took a little more time than usual to
get the big fella awake and ready for another stroll down Mrs S's shit shute,
but with a little help from the other woman in Mrs. Shalawadi's life, I was
hard as steel and ready to turn the
bitch inside out. She was made to stand before the bathtub, bent at the waist
while Fateena hopped into it and positioned her hairy crotch so that her mother
could begin tasting something in her mouth besides turds and piss. I pried Mrs.
S's cheeks apart and stuck my dick where the sun never shined, bringing a loud
scream from her.
That really got my juices flowing and in
no time I was operating at warp speed and she was bouncing around like a bobble
head doll. The commandant began fondling my ass as I drilled out the asshole of
Fateena's mother. I was ordered to make sure that I came in Mrs S's mouth this
time and that she swished it around until she was told to swallow it, and not
before. That sounded like a great idea to me and so I went into turbo mode and made her think there was a
four alarm fire burning in her bowels.
The thin woman went to work on the woman's
tits, twisting the flesh into odd shapes and raking her fingernails across the
sensitive flesh and her hard nipples. Those nipples were really the tip-off
that she was into most of the stuff that we were doing to her. I guess that
prison had done much more to her mind than her body, which is saying something
considering the things she claimed they did. I started working on a scam that
might just work if I could convince the principal that her good buddy was a
real pain freak and she'd be a lot more fun to torment than this punk high
school student who just couldn't keep his dick in his pants.
Mrs. S must have taken my cock up her ass
for nearly an hour, with only a few short breaks for me to catch my breath,
before I finally got tired of doing her and so she turned around and knelt
before me, mouth wide open and her eyes staring straight ahead as I nutted a
huge load of cum that nearly filled her
mouth. Even I was surprised at the amount of goo that was transferred from my
dick to her mouth.
The commandant, Shabaz, took over and ran
her through the drill, making her swish it around until her cheek muscles
started to cramp. Then she had Mrs. S tilt her head back and gargle with it for
almost a minute straight until she choked and spewed some of it out her
nostrils. For her troubles she took a couple of cracks across the tits from the
riding crop and that made her choke on the rest as well.
More of my muscle was needed to hoist Mrs.
S into the air so her ankles could be attached to one of the hooks located in
the ceiling of a shower stall. Once this was done Shabaz turned the water to
hot and we stepped from the stall and closed the door. The water temperature
was set to just below what would cause the occupant's skin to begin to suffer
severe burns. It must have been just on the edge because the noise coming from
Fateena's mother could be heard over the roar of the shower.
There was too much steam to get a good
look at what the hot water was doing to the woman's skin, but after a ten
minute soaking she looked like a cooked lobster and was barely conscious. It
really looked weird to see her body shaking like it was cold. Next she took
another ten minute shower with water so cold that it stung. She was nearly
blue, her eyes open, but unfocused, and covered with goose flesh when we took her
down and got her ready for the next water sport.
Thanks to my mornings with nurse Manners,
I had developed a strong aversion to enemas. To be honest, I learned to have a
very healthy repect for those fiendish treatments when I was much younger and mom would cure my constipation with one of those
turd busters. I almost felt sorry for Mrs. Shalawadi as the thin woman mixed up
the first solution and filled a three quart bag to the brim with it. It had
that medicinal smell, so sharp it made your nostrils dry out.
Once again Mrs. S was in front of the tub
bent at the waist, eating her daughter's pussy like she was starved. My guess
is she was trying to take her mind off of what was to come. Shabaz clued me
into what was in the bag and I shuddered. The base was double boiled coffee,
stored near its boiling point in a special flask before being used. Additions
such as epsom salts, finely ground dried chili peppers, a couple of eyedroppers
of alum and a quart of glycerine completed the recipe for this turd buster.
This bomb would burn, scrape, dissolve,
tighten and stress the bowels of Mrs. Shalawadi to their limit. Each element of
the purge had a single job to do and they were designed to do it perfectly. The
coffee would be quickly absorbed into her blood stream and give Mrs. S a rush
that would make some drug addicts jealous. Worse than all of that, she would
have to hold it until she sucked me off, thanks to the butt plug that was to be
slammed up into her asshole once the enema was adminstered. It took nearly
twenty minutes to give her the entire three quarts and her belly was pooching
out big time by the time the last few cupfuls found some place to settle.
All went as planned and a securely plugged
Mrs. Shalawadi was made to kneel before me as I sat on the edge of the tub and
offered my licorice stick for her to suck on. She went after my dick like a two
dollar whore who hadn't had any business for most of her shift. I teased her by
acting like I was getting ready to blow my wad and then slapping her across the
head and pulling it from her suctioning mouth as she whimpered.
While this unequal struggle continued, I
had time to realize that this crazy woman would indeed be the perfect
substitute for yours truly at the Saturday bash over at Ms. Landers and
Manners; better still she could be the star attraction at the principal's
place. The only fly in the ointment was my long history of being a fuck-up at
school. I had built up a reservoir of ill will that might be too strong to
overcome despite the truth of what I was
suggesting.
Mrs. S was sweating and her eyes were
getting bigger and bigger as the coffee kicked in. Every minute or so she 'd be
wracked by cramps that grew stronger with each wave that rippled through her
bloated body. I didn't help matters by
deciding to tit fuck her after maybe twenty minutes of on and off cock sucking
on her part. After getting her all hot and bothered, not to mention my cock on
the verge of going off, I made her lick my balls, which reduced her to tears.
Her bawling irritated Shabaz and she began
whipping her prisoner across the shoulders and then down her back. After every
cut there were little droplets of blood flying off into the air, so I knew
Fateena's mother was in a world of hurt. I almost felt sorry for her, but not
just yet. I began seeing how far down her throat I could cram my dick and she
took it like the good trouper she was. Then it dawned on me that she was trying
to knock herself out doing this. So I punished her by slapping my rock hard
dick across her face until it lost some of its stiffness. Fateena thought that
was funny and Shabaz clapped her hands gleefully. I was now one of the gang. It
looked as if I had passed my examination, now would Mrs. S survive hers?
(
To be continued - jethro jodhpur )
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