School For Torture

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by John Savage

Angel Martin thought she was attending an academy for young ladies. What she did not know was that her stepfather had made arrangements for her to be taken away to a very different establishment, a former convent where she would be held prisoner by sadistic nuns whose only desire was to inflict sexual torment – for the rest of her life.

Published: 4 / 2010           No. words: 61,000EX1t

After the flight and long drive, Angel slept deeply, so it was no wonder that she did not hear the approach of two figures in the darkness of her room.  A hand held a wad of cloth over her mouth and nose.  She awoke startled by hands holding her down and a terrible smell.  A few seconds later she was drifting back into a drug induced sleep.

A bright light against closed eyes stimulated Angel enough to groan and struggle back to the land of the living.  She opened one eye slightly.

“She will be fine,” said a man’s voice.  “Let her sleep off the effects.”

Whatever she was lying on moved as the man got up.  As through a haze, Angel saw one dark figure move out of her sight to be replaced by another.  She tried to move her hand up to her face but could not.  Then she saw, just before she faded back into sleep, a woman’s face.  A face surrounded by a black cowl.

* * * * *

Sunlight awoke Angel.  She took a deep breath and went to stretch.  It was then that she realized she could not move her arms.  Her eyes popped open.

She was not in the same room.  This one was much smaller.  Gone were the fine windows with the lace draperies, replaced by a single high window set into the bare stone of the wall.  It was through that narrow slit a single beam of bright sun light had come to illuminate her face.  All the walls were of stone, looking ancient and harsh.  There was a door, of wood and open at that moment, although all she could see through it was a corridor made of the same stone as her walls.  The only furniture was the bed she lay upon, and that was both a far cry from the comfortable bed she had gone to sleep upon the night before, and from most normal beds.

With growing concern, she tugged at her arms only to discover that they were held solidly above her head.  She looked up to see her bare arms disappear into holes cut in wood.  Across the top of the bed were two lengths of solid wood with small half circles cut so as to form two holes just the size of her wrists.  She tugged hard and was rewarded with pain as the edge of the wood cut into her wrists, and the slight rattle of a large padlock set into the hasp at one end of the two boards.

“I don’t believe it!” she said out loud.  “A stock!  A god damned, mother-humping wooden stock.”

Angel tried to turn to see it better, only to discover that her legs would not move either.  Lifting her head and looking down, she saw that her ankles were similarly locked in a tight wooden embrace.  But more importantly, she also saw that she was naked!

Her lovely breasts rose and fell with each aggravated breath, and she knew that her pubic patch was also uncovered.  The bottom stocks held her feet about a foot apart, which allowed her to almost close her thighs but not quite.  She tugged at her feet but the wood was quite solid.

It was then that she noted the bedding under her was not quite what one would expect.  The frame of the bed was wood, thick boards and quite solid, but the part she lay on was wire mesh.  The wire was thick gauge and the diamond pattern with each hole only an inch or so across so that she was supported by the wires with her flesh pushing into the diamonds.

Angel’s mind was in turmoil.  The only possible explanation that came was a prank, a joke or initiation played upon her by the other students.  Somehow they had snuck into her room, carried her down to the basement and attached her to this strange bed.  Maybe they were just around the corner, waiting to laugh themselves silly when she began screaming for help.

But even as she tried to make that theory work, she knew it was wrong.  Older girls at a school might play tricks on a new girl, but she had never seen or heard of one so elaborate.  And how had they gotten her out of her bed and room with awakening her?

Then she remembered the hazy dream of a man’s voice and a woman with a black cowl.  That must have been real.  And the terrible smell and taste in her mouth.  But what did it mean?

As she debated with herself calling out, a girl walked past the door.  “Hey,” called Angel automatically.  The girl returned and entered the room.

She was a little younger than Angel, perhaps a year.  Angel tried to take in a series of strange features all at once.

First, the girl was wearing a strange bathing suit, a bikini, or that was what it looked like.  As she approached the bed, Angel could see that it was made of black leather.  It showed most of the girl’s rather nice figure, but seemed to Angel to be a couple of sizes too small.  The leather pressed very tightly into the girl’s flesh, and was so tight across the bottom of the bra part that it seemed to be trying to squash her breasts.  They looked as if they were going to pop out of the top of the leather covering.

And then there was the pair of handcuffs the girl wore on her wrists.  The steel shone in the sunlight, and the cuffs had been tightened down until almost nothing showed between the metal bands and the tender flesh of the young woman.

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