The Child-Woman named Fettisia stands trembling with fear. Her full crimson lips
quiver. Goosebumps prickle the surface of her flesh. As punishment for her
transgressions she has been kept after class at her district's Government School
for Sexual Preparation. She is thirteen years of age. A golden chain, fine but
strong, has been wrapped around her neck and then hooked to the punishment hook
above the blackboard. She cannot move forward or from side to side without
feeling the strangling pressure of the golden chain against her windpipe.
Fortunately for her, she is wearing special shiny leather boots with seven-inch-
high heels. Were it not for the heels, which give the small Child-Woman those
feel extra inches of height, she would slowly choke to death. All the same,
Fettisia the Child-Woman is not happy. The seven-inch heels are extremely
uncomfortable. To complicate matters still more, the shiny leather boots have
been laced to an almost unendurable tightness with the school's boot-lacing
machine, a cruel and torturous instrument said to have been inherited by one of
the ancestors of the school's founder who was thought to have participated in
the Pro-Christian Inquisition of 2089 as well as the great Burning of the
Virgins that had followed soon-after. The Child-Woman's straight blonde hair
spills like a fluffy cloud over her bare sun-bronzed shoulders. Her slim strong
thighs shudder. Her green eyes are damp with tears. Her face is contorted with
pain. So agonized is she that she is unable to enjoy the soft caress against her
plump child-breasts of the black satin lining of her rawhide brassiere. She does
not even feel the rubbery squeeze of her torturously tight flesh-colored latex
panties. She feels only the discomfort of her cruelly laced leather boots with
the seven-inch heels. That, and the cold grip of the golden chain around her
neck and the fearful anticipation of her teacher's excruciatingly punishing
black bullwhip. By twisting her head, Fettisia is able to see the words "Fuck
me, suck me" written in tremblingly childish letters on the schoolroom's
blackboard. They have been written there one hundred times by Fellatia, one of
Fettisia's young classmates. Fellatia has been punished for a far less serious
transgression than Fettisia. It is now many hours since Fellatia had expiated
her guilt by writing "Fuck me, suck me" on the blackboard one hundred times. She
had gone back to her cell, accompanied by one of the school black uniformed
guards. Fettisia sobs silently. The bell in the tower of the school had just
struck midnight. A cold draft races through the empty classroom, raising still
more Goosebumps on Fettisia's bare flat bronzed midriff. The salty tears gush
more heavily now from her green eyes, down her straight nose, across her full
quivering crimson lips, into her wet pink mouth. After all, she has been trussed
in this manner since three o'clock in the afternoon. She does not know how much
longer she will be able to bear this agony. Only the thought that if she faints
the golden chain will strangle her keeps her from keeling over. Quite suddenly,
from the stone corridor outside the classroom, Fettisia hears the sound she has
been anticipating for the past nine hours--the metallic clang of her teacher's
heavy sterling silver evening slippers against the cobble stoned corridor floor.
All at once there is a rush of air. The brass-studded leather classroom door
swings wide. Teacher has arrived. She clangs into the room, resplendent in her
silver lame' skintight evening dress, her hair done up in a severe bun fastened
with a manacle, her eyebrows garishly painted on in huge, thick, sweeping,
greasy arches, her lips painted with shiny black lipstick, her stainless-steel
incisors honed as sharp as carving knives. Little Fettisia's heart leaps with
hope, her Teacher is not carrying her despised black Spanish leather bullwhip.
The Teacher crosses the room boldly, clanging toward the blackboard, an evil
wordless hiss emanating from her lips. Her cold eyes examine Fellatia's scrawl
on the blackboard. She glares with satisfaction and then fixes her icy eyes upon
the trembling trussed-up Fettisia. "So, my wicked little wastrel," the Teacher
purrs malevolently, "how have you enjoyed your punishment do far?" "Oh! V...
very... very well indeed, thank you, Madame!" gasps Fettisia fully aware of the
even more ghastly punishment awaiting any student who fails to appreciate fully
enough any act committed upon of against her person by the vicious
schoolmistress. "You lie!" growls the Teacher, using her silver- lacquered right
hand to slap Fettisia's trembling cheek with a resounding crack, eliciting a
small shriek of surprise and pain from the bound thirteen-year-old. "Lying
little bitch! You have note enjoyed one second of this!" Fettisia's mind races
beneath a mist of pain. She must think of an answer which will not contradict
anything her Teacher has said, but that at the same time will express
appreciation for the agonies she had been suffering. She thinks quickly. Then
speaks. "Y... yes, indeed, Madame! The hours I have spent here, humiliatingly
chained and trussed, have been the utmost torture for me. But I have learned to
enjoy such torture, indeed to relish it, in your class in Advanced
Sadomasochism. And therefore I have very much enjoyed this agonizing punishment,
Madame!" The Teacher laughs, the light glinting off her sharp stainless-steel
incisors. "Marginally well spoken, little slut! You have a quick wit about you.
It will stand you in good stead when you are sent for further training in the
steaming brothels of Imperial Casbah." And then the Teacher's smile melts into a
frown. "But quick wit is not enough," she says. "As you are well aware, you are
being punished for habitually slow arousal in your Anal Intercourse class. True,
you gasped and moaned loudly along with all the other Child-Women when the
stud-slave assigned to you thrust his huge burning organ into your tender pink
rump. But you were faking it! Faking it, I say! I will not have my little sluts
faking pleasure! Never! Never!" "I shall try to do better in the future," sobs
Fettisia, her tears now gushing down her slim graceful neck and into the
satin-lined cups of her rawhide brassiere. "I shall try to do better in the
future," mimics the Teacher with a mocking sneer. She spits in Fettisia's face.
"Little bitch!" the Teacher hisses derisively, "I am not interested in your
attempts! I am interested in your success! Who was it three years ago that
taught you how to bring the highest pleasure imaginable from the use of your
tiny pre-pubescent clitoris? Who taught you to use that stupid little mouth of
yours to wring screams of delight from male and female alike before you had
reached the age of twelve?" "Y... you, Madame!" screamed Fettisia, sobbing in
fear and shame. "Yes!" screamed the Teacher in return. "I run the most
successful schools for sexual enlightenment in the history of the world! And I
will not have some pitiful frigid little slut ruining my perfect record! Do you
understand me? Do you? Do you?" "Yes, Madame," sobs Fettisia, submissively.
"Very well, then," says the Teacher, softening an inscrutable trifle, "I shall
unchain you and put you to the test." So saying, the schoolmistress unhooks the
golden chain from the punishment hook above the blackboard and unwraps it from
around Fettisia's graceful neck. Fettisia is extremely careful not to breathe a
sigh of relief. Such a sigh might only arouse her Teacher to horrible paroxysms
of anger. All the same, as if merely for sport, the Teacher abruptly whips the
thin length of chain in a quick high arc, striking it powerfully the Fettisia's
bade midriff. Fettisia squeaks in agony, as she had been taught to do, as a
bright red stripe fades into view crossing the small eye of her indented navel.
"Go you your desk and get your dildo," he Teacher now commands. Obediently,
Fettisia slips down the second aisle of desks i the classroom until she arrives
at her own desk, third from the rear. She lifts the lid and rummages through the
desk's contents. At last she finds the dildo, nestling snugly between a textbook
on group orgies, a monograph on lesbianism which she has been using as a
reference source for a forthcoming term paper, and a jar of spiced oriental
masturbation cream. She takes up the dildo, closes the lid of the desk and then
returns to the front of the classroom, hobbling uncomfortably in her extremely
high-heeled boots. At last back in from of her Teacher, the thirteen- year-old
Child-Woman stands rigidly at attention, scarcely daring to breathe, awaiting
her Teacher's next command. "Very well! On your knees, slut! Position number
three!" orders the harsh instructress. Immediately as she has been taught,
Fettisia falls to her knees, bruising them painfully against the hard cold
floor. Then she bends forward slowly, in a graceful arc, until her forehead is
touching the floor ad her delectable rubber-incased rump is pointing upward,
toward the ceiling. "Now insert the dildo into your anus," orders the
schoolmistress, harshly. "All the way in, as deeply as it can go. And be quick
about it!" Instantly fettisia obeys. The point of the fat dildo thrusts against
the rubber panties. Fettisia's insides are penetrated by the now rubber-encased
dildo. She can feel the rubber stretching in the interior of her posterior
orifice, pushed by the unrelenting hardness of the firm vinyl dildo, an exact
replica of her stud-slave's painfully huge and powerful organ. Fettisia's
insides burn with the agonizing thrust of the hard smooth latex-encased object.
She bites down hard on her crimson lower lip, closes her eyes, attempts to
translate the searing pain into sexual pleasure. "Withdraw!" commands the
watching schoolmistress. Fettisia pulls on the dildo, feeling the rubbery
contraction of her latex panties outward from her orifice as she down so.
"Insert!" Again she plunges the huge horrid thing deep inside herself.
"Withdraw!" "Insert!" "Withdraw!" "Insert!" More and more rapidly come the
commands. Faster and faster plunges the object of sexual education. Slowly,
passion fastens its grip upon Fettisia's over stimulated nervous system. The
burning cavity begins to flutter with true sexual excitement. The fluttering
races through her body, spreading to her vagina, causing her to pulse and twitch
every which way. Perspiration now pours down her forehead. She gasps and
wheezes, heaves and sobs, moans and gurgles as the vicious schoolmistress
continues to bark out her cruel commands to insert and withdraw. Fettisia's
cheeks are flushed. Her knees are grinding against the hard cold floor. Her body
writhes as she plunges in and pulls out. The Teacher smiles, watching, waiting,
smugly enjoying every gasp and wheeze of the pain- racked passion-tortured
student. Finally laughing cruelly, the Teacher steps forward, bends, inserts a
slim sliver-lacquered middle finger between Fettisia's straining young legs,
thrusts, pushing in the rubber, stroking the hard little button of the clitoris
through the thin, stretching latex of Fettisia's skintight panties. The pupil
gasps loudly, then shrieks, levitating into the air on a powerful jet of
passion, her insides throbbing and contracting painfully, wonderfully,
incredibly in the ecstasy of orgasm. She screams with both pain and delight and
then falls flat upon her face. "Much better," says the Teacher softly, smiling
down at the quivering, sobbing, hysterical mass of Child-Woman flesh. "Not
perfect, but much, much better. Take you dildo back to your cell and practice
for tomorrow's lesson." The girl staggers from the room, dazed, tearful yet
already eager again for the press of vinyl against anus she will feel the moment
her cell door clangs shut behind her. -- END --
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