By JensenDenmark - Please notice: * Under development *
|1. A childhood lost||7. Maria and Manuela||13. Belted||19. Heather’s case|
|2. Holiday||8. On to new adventures||14. Eighteen Inches||20. A new start|
|3. Peer group||9. Jamaica||15. Montana||21. Guinea-pig|
|4. Group Therapy||10. School uniform||16. Bianca’s breakdown||22. Weekend workout|
|5. Not working the program||11. Chores training||17. Healing Bianca||23. The course of my life|
|6. Trust||12. The chair||18. The new girl|
“Rick. You have to come with me. Your father has been taken to the hospital”
I am Rick and I am 17 years old. I live in Filmore just north of L.A, where I have lived since I was born. 2 year ago I lost my beloved mother. My father broke down and I very much got to live my own life because he shut me off and concentrated on his job. I was mourning also and my grade slipped because clothes, food etc. became a struggle when my father did not have the strength to do more than just calling for a pizza. In school I was isolated because I very much arrived with dirty clothes the most of the time. I began to skip school sometime 2 or 3 days per week.
After 6 months the school called my father because I became involved in a fight. They expelled me and threatened my father with the social services. That was when Maria came into our lives. My father enrolled me in a small Christian School and it only took a week before I came into trouble when someone noticed that my new school uniform had not been washed for a week. My father was called to the office where the principal – Mr. Skinner - was told of our story. He had a solution. His mom had just moved into a nursing home and her housemaid – Maria – was out of a job.
Maria became housemaid by us. When I saw her the first time, both my fathers and my jaws dropped. She was hot! Dark hair – almost 6 foot high – 25 years – and what a body. Only her odd black maid uniform with a white apron with bib front and cross-over straps completed with a mob seemed out of time and place.
Maria noticed our look and explained that her former employer preferred her to be dressed like that and that she wanted to continue to wear uniform unless we had something against it. We didn’t. Maria got the house straightened out. Unfortunately I had been on my own, so I had difficulties to do the same. Four weeks later I skipped school and spent the entire day in the mall. The next day I was told to report to the office of the Mr. Skinner.
When I arrived at the office the Mr. Skinner and Maria waited for me. The Mr. Skinner informed me that I had broken the rules and according to the student handbook I had to be punished by a parent, who should administer 5 strokes with the board (We pupils called it the big educational board) while he was watching. Because my father was working, he had given Maria written authority to act in his place. I protested, but there was no choice. I remember it as it was yesterday.
“Young man – follow me” He went over to a door. When he opened it, I saw an odd piece of furniture. Seeing my surprise he explained. “This is a spanking trestle. I need you to drop your clothes and lie down it.”
I blushed. I have not undressed in front of another woman but my mother. I hesitated but Mr. Skinner told me that the number of strokes would be doubled if I did not get started.
When I was naked Mr. Skinner made me lie down on the trestle. First my hands and feet were put in leather cuffs. Then they put a leather strap over my body, so I could not move. Finally a wide leather collar was put around my neck and fastened with two D-rings to the trestle. The collar made me keep my head up, I looked straight forward.
“Young man: You are going to count the strokes. If you fail, we would start over.” He waived at Maria.
For a moment the room was so quiet that we could have heard a pin drop. I began to sweat. What is she waiting for? I tried to turn my head, but it was impossible due to the collar. Then the stroke came. It was almost a relief, but then I felt the warmed. I tried to shake the pain off, but it was impossible. Then I remembered. If the stroke should count, I had to do the counting myself.
The room was silent. Again I endured the torture of the wait. Without notice the second stroke hit me. The pain went through my body as waives. I managed to regain control.
I was about to catch my breath, when third stroke hit me. It was to fast. It caught me off guard. I let out a small cry. But I managed to stammer “Three”.
Just as I had said it, the fourth stroke came. It made me sob. I pulled at the restraint but it was of no use. She had broken me. With a low voice I said:
I continued to sob a little, but then I noticed that Mr. Skinner just looked at me with disgust. Then I felt it. My member had turned hard. As I tried to look him the eye, the final stroke came. She must have used all her force, because I hurt a lot more than the previous strokes. With a sobbing voice I managed to confirm the last blow.
Maria came over to me and kneeled beside me. “Poor darling: No one has disciplined you and taken care of you since the death of your mother. But rest assure. Now I am here for you. I can see that you are confused and in fact have been reaching out for a firm hand.” I felt that she touched my member. “You liked to be disciplined. You have in fact missed it.” Mr. Skinner nodded to Maria and left the room. She rose and went behind me. Then she commanded me “Open your mouth!”
When I did she pulled some leather hood down over my head. There were openings for the mouth and eyes. Inside there was a gag-ball, which went into my mouth. She laced the hood tight and then she attached two leather pieces over my eyes and my mouth. I was in total darkness. She continued to touch me various places. Just I was about to explode, I felt something being tightened around the base of my scrotum.
What now? Suddenly I felt something cold on my buttocks. It was something which felt nice as she smeared it out over my warm and still hurting behind.
When she was finished, she turned her attention to my member again. She squeezed my ball softly and I moaned into my gag. I so wanted release. My breathing was heavy. And my balls began to hurt due to excitement. It seems to on forever. Then she realized my member. I came. It was so good. Of course I had played with myself before. But this was nothing compared to this. It is unbelievable. The flow seemed to go on forever. Then I pass out.
When I came around the hood and Maria was gone and I was released. Mr. Skinner was back in the room.
“Young man: Put your clothes on again. I feel it as this kind of punishment is a waste on you but I have to warn you that the number of strokes would double next time. So behave.”
The rest of the day went on without incidents. When I returned home Maria was cleaning and she acted as the episode at school had never taken place. My father popped in when he returned home late and told me that the use of corporal punishment was one of the reasons, he enrolled me at this school.
Time went by and I took my schoolwork serious. Of course Maria’s treatment was nice, but not worth having your butt spanked 10 times with the board.
Then a year ago Maria received a phone call from home which made her cry. My father, who was home for a change, talked to her and learned that her mother had died. He comforted her and told me to order a pizza for myself, because he was going to take Maria out for lunch out of pity for her.
They left and I enjoyed my pizza. It was almost like the old days. I stole a couple of beers from the fridge and had a really good time before I went to sleep.
The next morning I went by my father’s bedroom and saw them sleeping together. I was shocked and torn apart. She was going after us both. Could I tell my father? Would he believe me?
14 days later they married quietly. It was just us three and the minister.
First our lives continued to go on as before. I went to high school after graduating from the Christian school but did not have any plans after that. I was thinking of getting a job to let time go until I had found out what to do. Maria did as she used to do – without the maid uniform of course.
But slowly she began to make demands. They wanted me to do some chores, but were this not what Maria came here for. The next months were one fight after another. Just last weekend we were fighting over beers missing from the garage. I was me that had stolen them, but father had never bothered to complain about it. But Maria interfered in everything at our house. I hated her.
And now the news about my father on the top of it all – it was almost too much. My teacher took me down to the street where a cab waited for me to take me to the hospital. On arrived I ran into to the E.R. only to be greeted by a Maria dissolved from tears.
“Oh. Rick. It is too late. His car broke down on the highway and before he could get out, he was hit by a truck. He is dead.” She began to cry.
The next weeks went on as it was a nightmare. The funeral was awful. Now it was just Maria and me. I was spending all day lying in bed. I did not want to do anything. I had lost both my parents. My life seemed to be at end.
One day Maria entered my room. She wanted to talk to me.
“Rick. What about your future? When you become 18 you will get control over your parent’s money and it is a small fortune. What would you do for a living?”
“I will move out to a small apartment – buy a new car and basically enjoy life.”
“That is totally irresponsible.”
“That is my choice. Next year I will be 18 and then you have seen the last of me.”
“Why do you hate me?”
“Because you first played with me and later with my father - I don’t trust you.”
She left the room.
A week later she popped in again. “Rick. I have been thinking. What about us two taking a holiday down to Mexico, where we can enjoy life on the beach? I know that things have not been good between us lately, but take this offer as a kind of a kind of apology of my lack of understanding about the impact that your fathers death had on you. Of course you should be allowed to mourn, but I think that you also should recognize that life - as hard as it is - goes on.”
I agreed. After all it had been a month where I barely had left my room. After she had left, I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. I had neglected my body. Numerous pizzas and soft drinks had left traces on my body. I must be at least 15 pounds overweight. Well, I had to exercise a little during the holiday.
Fourteen days later I was sitting in the car next to Maria, who was driving. When we had crossed the border, Maria started to talk about her family. She had been born in California, but most of her family lived in Mexico. She wanted to drop in on a social visit with her cousin Hector. I did not mind. An hour later we stopped in front of a large building.
“Large house your cousin live in.”
Maria nodded but did not answer. As we entered the house, we came to some kind of reception and a man come over to us and immediate embraced Maria. “Maria!”
Maria presented us. “Rick. This is my cousin Hector Gonzarles. Hector. This is Rick Normann.”
We went into some kind of office, where two strong looking staff members sat in some chairs. Something was wrong here. I began to be nervous. Once inside Maria turned to me. “By the way: This is your new boarding school.”
“Your new boarding school. In fact is a motivation boot camp where children like you, who for some reason has come to a stop when it comes to living, can regain motivation and experience emotional growth. Hector. You can take it from here.”
“Welcome to - Rick Norman. As you should have guessed by now, I am the director of this facility. We have already arranged for your high school papers to be transferred here and it seems that we have so little time to get so much done. Please follow these two staff members so you can get your school uniform on.”
I tried to pull back, but they grabbed me under my shoulders and carried me out of the office. We can to a bathroom where I was told to undress. When I was naked they showed me over to a trestle similar to the one I had been spanked on at the school. They could see how nervous I was.
“Relax – senor. We are not going to hurt you, but you have to be cleaned totally before you can enter the school. Please lie down on the trestle.” For the second time in my life I was strapped down on a spanking trestle. Every minute I expected Maria to enter through the door ready to spank me. But instead they pulled a leather hood over my head. It was the same type Maria had used on me when I was younger. The openings for eyes and mouth were closed when the hood was laced.
I was lying in darkness and did not know what to expect. Suddenly I felt pain in my rear. They had put something inside me! Then I felt something to flow inside me. It was some kind of fluid. Very soon it became unpleasant. The fluid began to press against my guts. It hurt! I tried to shout but the gag made it impossible. To make matter worse the ball gag inside the hood was hollow so I began to drool without control.
I tried to wrist and hurt a little so the pain could be a little more manageable. Then I noticed. The flow had stopped. I felt that they removed the nozzle. Instead something cold was applied. Suddenly a sharp pain came from my sphincter. Something big was about to enter me. At once I screamed into the gag and tried to pull at the restraints, but I could not move. Suddenly it slipped inside. A shock went through my body. The discomfort was intense.
Once inside it seemed to grow for some seconds, then it stopped. I could not spill the fluid they had put inside me and I so needed to go to the bathroom. I tried to let them free me. I pleaded, sobbed, cried, but the hood and the gag made it impossible. The pain increased and it felt like my stomach was going to explode. It was unbearable. I lost consciousness.
When I woke the hood was off and I was no longer restrained.
“Senor. Come with us.”
When I rose from the trestle, the stomach cramp started again. I sank to my knees with grunt.
“Just try to follow us so you can go to a toilet.”
When I waddle over to the toilet, I notice a tube with a pump hanging out from my behind. One of the staff members took rubber gloves on and told me to position myself over the toilet. Then he pressed something on the pump and I felt something deflate inside me. With a quick move he pulled whatever they had put inside me out which was a little painful. I began to empty my guts. I was so good.
I was told to sit down in a chair where they restrained me once more with straps. Then they shaved my head including my eyebrows. I looked like a monster when they were finished. I sobbed. This was not a school, it was a torture camp. Finally they let me shower.
They took me to another room for school uniform. Inside there were cuffs hanging down from the ceiling. Soon I was wearing them and they hoisted me in the air just so my feet did not touch the ground. I was blindfolded again. I felt them wrapping something around my waist. Then they pulled at it so I felt they were cutting me in half. I protested but they did not care. Eventually they were finished and I was lowered to the floor. The next thing they applied was a collar which forced me to look straight and a little up. It was connected with a strap to the waist belt. I felt them put a leather piece over my member. I hurt a little when they pulled it tight. My hands were freed only to be put into other cuffs, which was connected to the waist belt, so my arm was immobilized along my body.
They told me to bend over, which caused pain because the waist belt cut into my skin. One staff member held me while the other inserted something in my behind. Because they had stretched my sphincter before I did not hurt so much. The blindfold was removed and they showed me over to a mirror.
|What a bizarre look. My waist was compressed by a wide waist clincher with a large strap going up to the wide collar. There were D-rings several places on the clincher where each of my arms were fastened two cuffs at both upper- and lower arms. My genitals were covered by a leather pieces and some kind of rubber tail was hanging down from my behind. As I stood there with a surprise look on my face one of the staff members forced a rubber bit into my mouth.|
They followed me back to the office were Maria and Gonzales waited. Maria was happy.
“That certainly improved your posture and waistline. I am going to leave you know and return when my cousin reports of progress. I will personally see to that you get a proper education. That I have promised your father. Bye for now”. She left.
I sobbed. She had told me that we were going on holiday and then she just dump me here as a kind of slave.
Gonzales interrupted my sobbing. “Rick. Listen to me. You have no choice but to stay here. Maria is your legal guardian for almost a year before you becomes an adult. If you manage to escape, Maria would go to the police and report you as a runaway, so you will be arrested if you manage to enter the States and then you will spend time in the juvies.”
“B..” The gag made my speaking unintelligible.
“No but! I am now going to explain your stay here. You will join a peer group as Mule. We have three levels in our program: Mules, Miners and Mentors. You will be Mule for two weeks before you can stand up at group therapy on Fridays and apply for the next level. Mules don’t talk unless we are in group therapy; Mules are gagged and tied to the carts during work and escorted by Miners or Mentors outside work guided by a harness. Every morning you will get an enema so you don’t need a visit to the toilet in order to do number two. If you feel the need to pee, just do it on the ground. That part of your harness will be cleaned from time to time. Please follow the staff-member.”
One of the staff-members came over and connected a leash at each side of the bit. He pulled and I had no choice but to follow him like a …. a mule!”
We walked outside where I saw that is was come kind of gravel business. There must have been about 100 teenagers in action. Half of them were pulling cart dressed like me. Others were busy with shovels filling the carts and a few students went around nursing and overseeing the others.
A group of 5 teenagers stopped to work, when we approached. The staff-member introduced me. “This is Rich – you new mule. Rich: This is peer group 8, from Left: Ashley – Mentor, Bill – Miner, Jack – Miner, Vanessa – Miner, Tina – Mule, Bianca – Mule. Ashley: Please take over from here.”
The staff-member left. Ashley took the word. “Miners: Group hug.” They all came over and hugged me. “Rick. You will be OK. We will look after you during your path towards healing.”
Ashley took me over to a cart. In fact it was a converted bicycle trailer with two poles going from it. I was placed between them and hooked on to it with chains going from both the cuffs and waist clincher. “Look Rick. The cart will be filled with gravel by one of the miners. It is 50-70 kilos you have to pull. You have to take it up to the top where another group will empty it. It is hot and I am going to look at you every time you return in order to check if you need water. We work the whole afternoon with breaks every second hour until 6 p.m. but try to forget about the time. There is no clock anyway. Follow me and just be cooperative. I have to tell you that I have to use the whip on you if you don’t work. I don’t like it. In fact it will hurt me as much as it will hurt you, but it will be for your own best.”
She pulled me over to Vanessa who started to shovel gravel into the cart. When she signed me that I finished I tried to pull the cart. It would not move. Vanessa gave it a push and it began to move. I stopped again and now I could not move it. Ashley came over. “Once you have got it in motion, do not stop unless you have no choice. You have obvious neglected your body but we will see to that we fix it. Let me help you a little.” She pushed it and I got going again. It was hard and I was about to slow down again when Ashley, who obviously had followed me intervened. “No you don’t.” Then I felt a lash from her whip on my left buttock. She continued to follow me all the way. Once I arrived other miners emptied the cart and I went back to my own peer group.
All afternoon went by doing the same. The cart was filled. I pulled it up from the gravel pit. The cart was emptied. Ashley only followed me the first time. She checked on me as she checked the other mules every time I returned to the team. Inside I was crying and angry. Why had Maria done this to me? I did not deserve it. I had lost my parents. Should I not be allowed to grieve for them?
It was sunset when we heard a whistle, which signaled that the work was over. We all left the gravel pit. The miners release us and guided us over to showers, which was placed outside the building. First they went under. It was not much of a shower, we were allowed. Only about 30 seconds showering before it was out again. Then they took us under the shower. We did not even get the outfit off. We showered with out clothes on! I had been sweating so much that I barely got wet because it almost steamed off me.
After showering, the miners dried us with towels and we was guided into a large dining hall and placed at a table with the number of our peer group on. The miners unhooked our cuffs and the bit came out. I was sore in my cheeks, so it took a little before I could talk. I turned towards Vanessa and presented myself. Ashley came over at once. “No talking. You are a Mule. You are only allowed to talk during group therapy. Shut up at once or the bit will be replaced with a tube gag, so you have to drink your dinner.”
She meant business, no question about that. Dinner was some odd mix containing chicken. Ashley and the miners talked. As I could understand from their conversation, they were here because they had partied without permission from their parents or having trouble with rules in the house. Vanessa spoke to me. “Rick. You are not allowed to talk, so I am just going to say to you that I think you did well today. Yes, I can see that you are sad but forget this self-pity. You are here by your own actions and there is only one person, who can get you out. It is you, so grab a hold of yourself and start to reflect on why you victimize yourself.”
After dinner it was time for education. First Ashley took me to the bathroom where the butt-plug, as they called the thing in my behind, was removed. Then she followed me to a class-room.
Ashley took me to a computer. “Here is your workstation. All the school papers from your school have been transferred here and you are now a distance student at your old school. I can see that you have neglected your school work for a long time, so you just have to get on with it. The others have time on their own, which they have earned by hard work. You have to show results, before you can earn free time. So get on with it. I will get you in two hours.” She left.
Two hours later she returned. “It is time for the last item on this day’s agenda – group therapy. Follow me.”
We came inside a small room where all waited.
Once I was seated they started by standing one by one and present themselves. Ashley started.
“I am Ashley and I have been a good girl for 20 days.” One by one they stood up and told how many days they had been either good boys or good girls. The last one was Bianca. “I am Bianca and I have been a good girl for 4 days.”
Then they all looked at me without saying a word. The whole situation was bizarre. 5 people looking as they just had stepped down on earth from a spaceship all shaved like me in equally odd costumes (The only difference was that the girls had a corset on which covered their breasts.) all looked as I was going to say some wise words. I slowly stood up.
“I am Rick and I guess that I have been a good boy for one day.” I could see a mix of satisfaction and relief in their eyes. It must have been the right thing to say.
Ashley took the word again. “Today we are addressing dependence. I will start and then I would say the name of the person, who will take over from here. I was depended on my appearance, but since my parents send me here because I used my mother’s 200 dollar Chanel perfume, dropped one of her earrings into the sink and billed my hairdo on their credit card, I have learned that it does not mean so much how I looked. Jack – you are next.”
“I have pretty much accepted that I depended being a part of the geek group back in high school. Instead of partying like the rest of my classmates, I spend the afternoons studying. I even went to school without thinking of the fact stripped shirt does not mix with a check pattern tie.”
The other looked at him in disbelief. He gesticulate an apology. “Sorry. I simply did not think that it was so important, but I have learned of my mistake. I did not know how much I was about to hurt myself by isolating myself in that way. Rick. It is your turn.”
“I have just arrived here today and I don’t know anything that I have been depended of. I very much just did my school work and lived like any other students. Maria – my stepmom – has sent mere here after my father died, because she does approve of my plans for the future. I guess that I just have to survive here until I am 18, which is some 11 months away, because me being sent here is her doing – not mine. Bianca. You are next.”
Ashley stopped me. “Not so fast. All people in this world have something they are depended of. You are no exception. I got some notes from Mr. Gonzales and I think that you are depended of being a victim.”
“What? You are joking”
“Try to follow me for a second. First your mother dies. You throw yourself in the arms of your schoolteacher and father so you don’t have to do anything because they are supposed to feel sorry for you. It works for a while and your father hires a housekeeper. Then he dies and you just sit in your room expecting your step-mom to clean your behind and nurse you. Life goes on – man! You are so buried in grief that you do it because you like it.”
“You are so wrong. I lost my parents and you think that I find pleasure from it.”
“I think that I have a point. Vanessa: Tell him why.”
Vanessa stood up. “I was depended of being felt sorry for because I was molested when I was five years old. I hated it but eventually I discovered that I could benefit from all people being sorry for me. My parents bought me all sort of things out of guilt because they had not looked after me properly, but I guess that all good things come to an end, because one day they decided to send me here, because it would have been too expensive to take me with them on a cruise ship with so much they could buy for me. So they are in Europe and I am here. But don’t misunderstand me. I am grateful for them sending me here, because deep inside I was squeezed by all their pity for me.”
“There you see. I think that we have spelled it out for you, but someone needs more motivation than others. What does the group say?”
They all chanted “The chair. He must do the chair.”
They all rose and held me. Ashley put a blindfold on me. Then I was guided across them room.
“Now Rick! Sit down carefully.”
They all held me while I lowered myself down on the chair. Suddenly I felt something cold against my sphincter. “Relax Rick - It is a dildo. Just continue to lower yourself slowly. We don’t want to call for the guard – right?”
I thought that I had no choice. Rather do it slowly than the staff members jamming it up into me by force. So I lowered myself. Luckily a whole day with a plug had made my muscles ease a little. But it was big! I gasped several times and had to stop before continuing. It seemed to be forever before I reached the seat. They strapped me to the chair with several straps securing me very firmly to the chair. I could not move an inch. The blindfold was removed.
“We are going to have a 15 minute break where you will have possibility to meditate quietly. I think that you are familiar with this kind of leather hood.” She showed me an isolation hood like the one I had tried before and pulled it down over my head. After they had laced it tight, I felt that they applied a couple of straps over it, so I could not move my head. I was in total darkness and could barely hear anything. Just remote noises reached me. I tried to position myself. Then suddenly it happened. The dildo began to move up and down!!
First with a very slow pace, then it increased its pace. It became hot inside my rectum as the lubrication stopped to work. I wanted to move away but couldn’t. I grunted and groan due to the pain. It hurt more. It was like they had put a red-hot metal bar up in my ass. It burned. I sobbed and cried inside the hood. The inside of the hood was wet from tears. I began to scream from pain. I had never been exposed for such a pain before. Not even the spanking I received from Maria did hurt so much. Suddenly another feeling began to mix with the unbearable pain. My member had turned hard inside its leather prison or at least tried to. I could not control myself. Suddenly a flow of semen began to flow from my penis. It was as it was remote controlled. It just kept on pumping and pumping semen out.
I had never experienced that kind of a relief. There was no real pleasure – it only felt like when you have been waiting too long in a line for a toilet. The dildo continued its pace. The pain stopped. It was as I was numb in my behind. I had lost track of time. When will I be released?
Suddenly the dildo stopped. The hood came off and I saw them standing in circle around me. “Did you learn something?”
I cried. “It was so painful. You must have torn my behind apart.”
“Yes, pain like losing a parent, but was there not just a fraction of pleasure in it.”
Dissolved with tears I nodded.
“There you see. You have enjoyed being a victim and someone to care about. You did not see it because you were filled with self-pity. I think we can release him now. Help me by lifting him up slowly.”
The straps came off and they helped me on my feed. “Oh. There is blood on the dildo. We need antiseptic lubricant.” Vanessa took a latex glove and smeared something cold on to my sphincter. The sphincter seemed to have its own life. Opening and closing without control. “Rick. We have to put a small butt-plug into you for the night because of the treatment. Try to relax.”
“It is easy for you to see. You have torn me apart.” I sobbed, because the feeling in my behind came back and it was very painful, but they managed to slip the plug into place. I was escorted back to my seat where I was able to sit down with a lot of pain.
“Rick. Who is next?”
“I have learned to value ordinary work. I had studied various courses on the university but I never found pleasure in any work and despite the fact that I comes from a family with a long tradition of going to the states to serve as maids, I kind of looked down on that kind of work. You can say that I was so depended of the surroundings of a life as a student, that I could not make the transformation from school to real life. Despite the fact that the director is my uncle, I like this experience. Tina: You are next.”
We continued to hear about dependencies from the others. Then it was time for those, who wanted to graduate to the next level, to stand up and speak their case. None stood up. Ashley turned to Tina. “Tina. You are getting comfortable again. You don’t work the program. You have to Monday to stand up and demand to graduate to miner or you will suffer consequences.”
Deep inside I wondered what kind of consequences they could use on her. She was already in the bottom in the hierarchy. The therapy session was over and it was time to go to bed, so I did not get an answer to my question.
Because I was a mule I had to sleep with the other mules on the ground in a building with only hay as a kind of mattress. I could not sleep.
A lot of questions came to me. How could I escape this insane place? If Maria was Gonzales cousin, did she know Bianca who obvious was a relative? What kind of consequences could they use on me if I decided to just wait for my birthday so I could walk out free? Was I enjoying being someone people had pity for?
Finally I feel asleep.
I had been at the facility for a week, when Gonzales came in the room, while we were having a group therapy session. He addressed me.
“Rick. Ashley has informed me, that you are not working the program. You don’t take the word during therapy sessions enough. Your contribution to the session is small remarks from time to time. So I am putting you on a challenge as a consequence. Maria has asked me to pay special attention to you because you are such a person, who could choose just to wait until you are an adult instead of healing yourself. The challenge starts tomorrow and we are not going to inform you of the nature of the challenge.” He left after this attack.
Bianca gave me a remark. “Challenges are tough. Now I feel pity for you. Ironic, is it not?”
The next morning we lined up. Somehow I had forgotten about the challenge when a guard came over to Ashley carrying a bag. Suddenly I saw how nervous the mules became. Some of them sobbed and Bianca had tears running down her cheeks.
Ashley took me over to the cart and I was connected normally. Then they removed the leather piece, which covered my genital. I blushed when I stood exposed in front of almost all the mules.
Ashley noticed my embarrassment. “Relax Rick. Soon you will have other things to worry about than a couple of people seeing you naked.” She took a couple of latex gloves for her hands and then she grabbed some leather piece from the bag. With one hand she squeezed around the base of my scrotum while she wrapped the piece around it with the other hand. It could be tightened by a small strap. She tightened it all it could and it was a little painful.
“So now the ball stretcher is secured. Give me the other things.”
The guard gave her a weight. She hooked it on to a small ring at the bottom of the stretcher. When she let go of the weight, my balls was pulled down hard. My member stood out in all its pride despite the added weight.
Ashley stood up. “We have to make sure people can hear you when you are on your way today, because you will have difficulties carrying the weight after an hour or two. The others are aware of your challenge and they will be aware of you due to the sound of the bells and move to the side so you can pass.” She had just finished her sentence when I for the first time in my life felt the pain from a nipple clamp. I sunk to my knees. It felt as she had stuck a knife into me. I cried from pain. Ashley turned to the staff member “Can I get a bigger bit for his mouth?” When the bit came out, I tried to plead with her. “Ashley. Look I will participate for real.” She did not believe me. “You are trying to manipulate me.” The new bit was inserted. It was so big that my jaws were sore within a minute. Ashley put the other nipple clamp on. I jumped on the spot from the pain. It was so intense. For a minute I thought that I was going to pass out.
“Now move. It is time for work.” When I took the first step, I learned that I had to walk slowly because the weight began to swing which pain as result. There were bells connected to the clamps and a ringing sounded wherever I came.
An hour later I sank to my knee due to the weight. Ashley came over and gave me one lash on my buttock after another. She called Bill and he helped me up. “Man. You have to be strong. Go on. You can do it.” He followed me the rest of the day. I thought that I was going to loose my balls. It hurt so much.
Then the whistle sounded. When I was release from the cart. Bill removed the clamps. I fell to the ground. It hurt even more having them removed than having them put on. In the last second he managed to see to that I did not hit the ground too hard. I came up on my feet again. The stretcher seemed to be a problem. My member was almost blue from being treated like this all day. Bill called Maris – a girl from another peer group, who was on a speaking challenge. Instead of a bit-gag, they had put a tube-gag on her. They made her kneel in front of me and then they force me forward so my penis entered the tube. It almost made her choke once it was totally inside her. It was nice having her lick my penis, even tough she could only use her tongue because of the gag.
Bill released my scrotum and I came in her mouth at once. First she coughed from all the semen but then she started to drink it.
Once all the semen had disappeared inside her mouth I was lead over to the showers and the leather piece came on again.
At the group therapy session Ashley told me if I had learned something from my challenge.
“Yes, I thought that I would die. I have never experienced such a pain. But somehow I managed with help from Bill, which I would thank him for. I now believe that I can graduate the program and I will make an effort.”
Tina replied “I it funny how everything that does not kill you, makes you stronger. I also thought that I would die in this program and spent very much the first weeks on my knees crying, but Ashley’s whip and the electric nipple clamps learned me how to meat a challenge head on. Now I will also will do my best to graduate this program and re-earn the trust of my family, which I had let down so completely by using a bicycle without wearing helmet. I am glad that they sent me here due to my rule-violation regarding setting safety first.”
The others told me about challenges, which is used on mules, because they can’t be dumped to a lower level for a rule violation. They all agreed that the challenge Daniel from peer group 11 got, because he constantly was trying to escape, was the most severe. It was a seeing / running challenge. All day he hat to work with an isolation hood on. He was constantly guide by a miner, which had him on a leash and gave him water through a straw. The but-plug was twice the normal size. He could only take small steps because they had given him leg-irons on and he was given a special cart, which could load up to 200 pounds. In fact the cart was so heavy that he had an extra harness outside the normal one in order to distribute the weight all over his body.
When the normal work stopped they took him up to a track field near the school where she inserted a steel plug instead of the normal one. Still wearing leg-irons and with the miner running next to him to ensure that he did not fall they connected the leash to a four-wheeled bike and dragged him round the field for an hour before releasing him.
When he was release that evening the harness had cut into his flesh and he had to be in his bed for two days while his wounds healed. After this day he did not try to escape anymore.
In the end Ashley stood up and told us that she was leaving tonight. In fact her parents were already waiting for her in the reception. Her last duty was to appoint Jack as the new mentor for the group. We all hugged before she left. I never saw Ashley again, but to this day I thank her for the lessons she told me, regardless of the fact that they were given me in such a cruel manner.
After 3 weeks I stood up and applied for permission to move up to the next level. But Jack had a surprise for me.
“Today’s issue is trust. Have any of you ever failed the trust your parents had in you? That is the question, you have to ask yourself and tell us about. I will start. I misused the trust my parents had in me by using my father’s aftershave. Hygiene products are personal product. It borders to stealing. I have learned this by being sent here.”
Vanessa was next: “I misused my parents trust by not overcoming the molestation without demanding too many physical things. In a way I used their guilt to ask for gifts constantly.”
Bianca: “I misused my parents trust by not accepting who I am and where I came from. I denied my origin and hurt my family in the process.”
They looked at me, so I gave them something. “I misused the trust of my father by not use all the possibilities his tax-dollars gave me regarding education.”
Jack was not satisfied. “But do you not forget something.”
I was a big question mark.
Jack gave me a photo. “This photo came from your step-mom. It is from the surveillance video in your garage. What is it that you have in your hand?”
I was shocked. My father had installed a camera in the garage and I was caught red-handed with a beer in my hand. “It..it is a beer.”
“Yes, it is a beer and you are underage. Not only are you stealing from your own father. You are breaking the law because alcohol is something to enjoy when you are over 21. Talk about misuse of trust. Here in the group we are tired of your half-hearted effort to follow the program. You have to be honest with us. What does the group think?”
Vanessa stood up. “I think the chair would be appropriate.”
Bianca joined her and she was crying. “We believed in you and you let us down.” Then she sat down and began to sob without control.
The other gave the same kind of remarks.
Jack had his own idea. I think that a challenge is the best solution in this case. They all nodded.
The next morning I was guided out with the other mules but nothing could prepare me for the contents of this challenge. Once again I was presented with the isolation hood. But before they put it on Jack revealed what kind of challenge I was put on. “Because thirst seems to bring dishonesty out in you, you are put on a challenge which involves drinking.” Then they put the hood on me. To my surprise there was no gag-ball inside. Instead they asked me to open my mouth and I felt some kind of tube enter my mouth. Once the hood was laced tight they forced me down on my knees.
Then something was forced inside the tube. It was some kind of meat. It was warm and tasted bad. My tongue investigated the object. It was a penis!! I tried to shake my head, but they held me tight. I knew from my self that having your penis locked in behind the leather piece for so long without relief meant that only a slight touch would result in a hard-on and orgasm within minutes, so I tried to avoid touching his penis with my mouth. Then he pushed the penis all in. I coughed as it touched the back of my mouth. I could taste pre-cum and tried to fight him of but instead more persons held me tight.
Suddenly semen filled my mouth. I could almost not breathe. I coughed. Finally the flow stopped. But less than a minute after he extracted his penis, a new one was jammed in. They can’t mean this! But they continued to hold very tight, so I had no choice and the new guy was so aroused that he came almost at once. I had to drink it. It made me almost throw up, but somehow it entered my stomach. The next penis came in and after that the next one. I lost both numbers and track of time.
Eventually I most have serviced the last one because they pulled me up and guide me over a bed where they helped to lie down on my back. They removed the blindfold and the gag on the good and I found me being restrained on a kind of restraint bed in a six-point restraint.
Suddenly one of the female mules climbed on to the bed and positioned her lower parts at my mouth. She lowered her body so I got her pussy was pressed down over my mouth. It smelled and tasted like a fish which had not seen the ocean for a long time. She rubbed her genitals against me and man was she wet. For how long had they denied anyone access to her private parts? For how long had she like any of the mules not had other means of personal hygiene than those 30 seconds of showers every day?
I had to play the game. I had to use my tongue to get this over with. She became more and more aroused. In the wet my hood was covered by her juices and she came screaming. They helped her off the bed but she was replaced by a newcomer. She was big almost to a point where I would call her obese. Obvious her parents had chosen HPLC as a fat camp for her. I could barely breathe. Her smelly juices ran down my throat. Finally it was enough for her and a new girl took her place. I did not know how many girls I serviced. The last one to ride me was Bianca. I did my best and I was very clear that she had needed such a treatment for a long time. I brought her into heaven.
Once I was freed they help me out to the showers where I was given extra time so I could get all the semen and juices off me. But being a month in HPLC made my uniform dirty beyond any possibility of making it clean. It still smelled from a full month of sweat.
When the group therapy started I expected to be torn to pieces by the group. Instead Jack pronounced that I was now a miner. My days pulling a cart with a bit-gag were over, but Jack also warned me that I could loose my level if I did not progress on the path towards healing.
A week later I was shoveling gravel together with Bianca, who also had reached the level of miner, when one of the staff members told us to go up to the main building. We were nervous when we went inside because we were worried about what kind of punishment we had earned.
Instead to my big surprise Maria and another woman was waiting for me. I hugged her. Regardless of the fact that she had sent me here, she was all I had left. “Step back. Rick. I want to see your waist line.” She looked me over and turned to Gonzarles, who was doing some deskwork. “I am truly impressed. You have done so much good work with him.”
“He has done it himself. After a difficult start Rich has shown us that he deep inside wanted to come here. He just needed to get out of his comfort zone.”
Bianca introduced me to the other woman, which was her mother Manuela. Then Gonzarles told us that today was a kind of home visit. We would go off campus until tomorrow evening and spend it together with our relatives before returning to the center in the evening.
A staff member told us to follow him. Together we were guided into a room where staff members helped us out of her uniform and given a proper shower with soap. It was odd. Things that I had regarded as a natural part of my daily life, was now luxury.
However once I got the uniform off I noticed that there was some wrong with my back. I was so used to having it supported by the uniform that is exhausting to do without it. Bianca had it the same way. The staff member offered us a normal corset we could wear under our normal clothes. It was a bit odd because I was a boy but it helped with my back.
The women were waiting for us when we came outside and we drove by the nearby town of San Mateo down to a town called Rosarito, which was lying at the ocean.
Here we booked into a small motel and we ate dinner and toured the city. It was like the holiday I original expected when Maria lured me down to Mexico. It was as HPLC did not exist. The contrast between locked up in a camp and being able to walk freely around in a city was indescribable.
In the evening Manuela and Bianca went to their room for a talk about Bianca’s future. When they had left, Maria asked me if I had an idea what to do after graduation. I had to confess to her that I had doubts about my future. Maybe law was a possibility but I was not sure. She had a suggestion.
“I know that I can not keep you here after you turn 18 and it was never my intension. I enrolled you at HPLC because I would help you before you turn 18 and can decide to put your life down the drain without anyone can do something about it. I needed something to challenge you and you must have to admit that it had remolded and turn-around your life.”
I began to sob. “Yes, but it had been so hard.”
“I know, darling, but some day I would not be around and then you will be in a bad situation, if you had not received treatment so you still would have been locked inside your room all day long.”
I nodded. She was right.
“And I still don’t think that you are ready to live of your own. I have an idea. One of the school, HPLC received students from is located in Jamaica. It is called , which just by the sound of the name would give you peace and quietness while you decide in what line of business, you will work. Your high school credits can be transferred, so you would be a distance student and additionally they offer education in housekeeping. It would just what you need so you can live by your own. What do you say?”
“Meditation Inlet; It sounds like a relaxed place. Yes, I will take your offer.”
“OK. I will make Gonzarles arrange for a transfer, when he means you are ready. Let’s go to sleep.”
The next morning I got a chance to talk with Bianca. I told her about my decision to go to Jamaica and she also had news for me.
“I am going to a Christian boarding school in Whitefish Lake, Montana. It is called and is a girls-only boarding school, where they teach sincere family life. It is something I need because we pretty much lived on take-out food due to the irregular work hours of my parents. I have never made food, washed the dishes or cleaned the house. Chores were something that I am unfamiliar with and in order to be a good wedded wife, I have to learn it.”
“It is the same with me. It must be our modern society which makes people like us miss out of those things. I remember that one of the teachers called our parents curling parents because they sweep obstacles away from our path.”
We continued to talk and Bianca seemed to be a nice person. Wonder how she would look when her hair once again would have grown. Due to the mandatory haircut, we still look like victims of cancer.
Late next day we drove back. When we had said goodbye to Maria and Manuela outside the facility we went inside where we once again was put in uniform. They had tried a sort of dry-cleaning and even tough they still were smelly; they were not as unsavory as we have left them.
At group therapy we were invulnerable. I could see envy in their eyes and if my eyes were anything like Bianca’s they were glowing. The more I look at Bianca the better she looks. What a shame that we are going to two several facilities
2 weeks later I was supervising my peer group as mentor. Jonas - a new mule – had difficulties and during the day I had to use the whip on him several times. Every lash hurt me as bad I think it hurt him, but he needed it. For some reason he never touch vegetables and out of genuine concern about his heath, his parents had sent him here.
Work was over and we were on our way to the showers when suddenly the devil took him and he began to run like hell towards an open gate. It was a kind of stupid because he still had cuffs and the bit in his mouth. I was about to run after him, when a staff member stopped me. “Let him run. Take care of the rest of your peer group and we will get him with the car. It is a four-wheeled and the nearest house is 3 miles away. They get money to phone us, whenever they sight a runner.”
The staff-member was of course right. Where should he go looking like that?
When the rest of my peer group was eating I was in the car with the staff member looking for Jonas. It did not take us long to spot him trying to hide down in the valley. We drover to him and he gave himself up, but to make sure that his escape did not inspire others, we had to make an example of him. So while I held him tight the staff member removed the leather piece, which covered his genitals. I watched his tears when the spiked ball stretcher was put on. Then he got the nipple clamps with the bells and we put a leash on his harness. We drove slowly back to the camp with Jonas on the leash. I looked out the windows and made the staff member stop every time he fell. Then I got out and helped him on his feet again. I must have done it 3 or 4 times before we reached the camp. He had bruises all over his body where he had hit the ground. After he had been presented in front of all the mules he as an example for the others, my peer group cleaned him up as good as possible.
At group therapy he tried to apologies to the group but we all meant that he didn’t sound truthful. So we put him in the bedlam – a kind of casket which could be adjusted in height so it was just his size. Inside there were straps for his legs, thighs, waist, arms and head. He pleaded and sobbed while we were strapping him and cried when we shut the lid. He had to lie in darkness until tomorrow when it was time for group therapy, but every two hour a staff member would open a small hatch in the casket and see to that he got something to drink. We could hear him yelling from inside the casket when we left him.
It was kind of tragic. He behaved like a wild animal which was caged for the first time. But in fact it was not us who had decide to cage him. It was himself by his own actions. Inside his mind he had the key to the casket and he did not know.
The next he was very quiet when we took him out - too quiet. He had stools down his legs. He must have suffered from the runs, when we put him in. He just sat in his chair swaying from one side to another. I was a little worried and we got him cleaned before we called a doctor. He soon knew what was wrong. “He is gone to a place most people don’t come back from.”
I was sorry but Gonzarles comforted me “You can not win them all. Everything you did, was by the book. You see, he will come around. We have a sister facility down the road where they can use him. They run a kind of business where they print out business letters, put them in envelopes and send them. You know mail-merging etc. They can have him sitting in a chair all day long with a hollow gag-ball in his mouth so his drooling will make it easy for them to use him as a manual postage meter. He will be fine.”
So Jonas was shipped off and Maggie came into our peer group instead. Thing seemed to go well, but then it was time for me to leave. At the last group therapy session I appointed Tina as the new mentor for the group. She had been here longer than me, but her progress had been slower. However, she made it in the end and I was safe by hand the group over to her.
A staff member would drive me to the airport and Gonzarles met me at the door. I had so many things to thank this man for. He pulled me out in the world from my self-imposed prison of grief.
Several hours I was standing on a private airstrip just across the border to the States. I went over to a small office building and sat down a soft drink. The taste was from heaven. I had missed it so much. Then a van came into the airfield. The sign on the side said “”. It had windows with plate glass. It stopped in front of me and a staff member came out.
“That is me”
“I know that you are here voluntary but our teen escort company has some guidelines to ensure safety for our clients and especially the goods – youth like you, so I have asked you to comply with my order even though they may seem a little exaggerated.”
“I come directly from HPLC, so you will not have problems with me.”
“OK, then. I have to ask you to wear this diaper. We have a long way to go and no time to use the restroom.”
I pulled my trousers down and put on the diaper. Once I was done, I was asked to put my arms on my back where he enclosed my arms in some sort of leather muff. There were straps to two cuffs, which was placed on my upper arm. I could not move my arms. Then he tightened two cuffs at my ankles. The final touch was a leather hood very similar to the hoods they used at HPLC, but he did not put blindfold or mouthpiece on. He opened the side door on the van and inside 3 people was sitting on chairs in the back. Each person was chained to the floor with chains going from the cuffs on the ankles to a hook in the floor. Additional they all had seatbelts on. One of the people was adult, which I found a little odd. I took a seat in the back next to one of the others and we took off.
In the other end of the airstrip there was a plane waiting for us. I went on-board first. Once inside I saw that the plane, which could accommodate 20 persons had similar hook in the floor. I took a seat and watched the other being guided into their seat and hooked up. Most of they had only a diaper on, so they had been fetched directly from their bed. 10 minutes later a second van came and two other youngsters dressed similar were followed on-board.
Then the plane took off. Once in the air, one of the staff members went around and removed the mouthpiece of each individual in order to give them something to drink, before he slipped the mouth piece in. Several of them were crying and pleading during this ritual. When it was my turn, I asked him why there was an adult between the youngsters.
“It is the , where we by orders of the parent dress up as a kind of terrorist and make the teenager believe that he or she is abducted together with one of his or her parents for ransom. You can call it a kind of adventure trip, where the child and parent are push to bond in order to resist the pressure from the outside – in this case us, pushing them to the limit.”
“It works very well and although we use all the techniques from some of the more hard-hitting programs like , stone circles and , the risk of impose traumatic experiences on the teenager is less than in the original programs.”
Several hours later we landed in a private airport near Kingston and the passengers were loaded into the back of a van. My arms began to be a little sore, but opposite the other passengers I could enjoy the landscape. The drive seemed to take forever. We passed numerous cities (Spanish Town, Old Harbor, Brazalitta, Gunters Hill, Alligator Pond, Southfield) then the roads became bad and we came to a small village near the ocean.
The guard spoke to me. “Welcome to Treasure Bay, homes for some of some of the most challenging boarding schools in the world.”
When we passed through a small village and then we saw a large campus with white walls around it. When we approached the main gate, I saw the big sign. “Meditation Inlet – Therapeutic Boarding School for Teens”
We were loaded of the truck and I was guided into an office where I was told to wait. It seemed like forever, before a small man entered and presented him self. “Hello, I am Helmut Grünehose – your therapist here at Meditation Inlet. Your story is a little unusual before you came voluntary. I regret that we had to restrain you but the insurance our transport division has, demand that the teenagers wear mechanical restraints, so they don’t hurt themselves or our staff. But now for your stay; I can read from the letter from Maria that you need training doing house-chores, which in fact is something many children could use. So let gets started. I will help you up and the please follow me.”
We went down the hall where there were several cabins with curtain for. I heard moaning sounds from several of them. When we were near the last of them, I heard a female voice whimper. “Please no.no.no…“ The curtain went aside and a stern looking woman came out. “I have finished with Anna for now. I think I will give the fabric 10 minutes to rest before proceeding.” Then she left.
Mr. Grünehose brushed one of the curtains aside and inside I saw a bar hanging down from the ceiling. He released me and told me to undress. Then he gave me two special cuffs on, which he called suspension cuffs. They were hooked to the bar. Next he gave me cuffs on at my feet. When he was finished, he pressed a button which caused the bar to be raised. Soon I was pulled of the floor, so I ended up being stretched out fully. It was trying, but it was nothing compared to the next thing, he did.
“Now for your school uniform; we start with your corset. Because you are a boy, this fine green corset for starters is yours.”
This was little over the edge. I had just endured a little over a month in a tight leather harness and had in fact lost almost 10 pounds and 15 centimeters of my waist. Now he wants to put me in a real corset. “But I am a boy. Corsets are girls wear.”
“Not here. The program is called Victorian purity. Back then when Victoria was queen in England, men did wear corset also. It improves your posture and makes you look like cultured young man.”
He wrapped it round my waist and started to lace. It was an odd feeling, being laced up. Soon I became short of breath and every tug felt like he was trying to cut me into two. I was panting for breath.
Suddenly he stopped. “I will go now. You have to stay up there, because the fabric has to rest, before we take it the rest of the way.”
“I can not leave me here.”
But he did. He left
My arms started to hurt. Also the stiffness caused from the corset made it worse. I tried to call him, but none answered.
I was trying desperately to maintain my grip on the suspension cuffs. They were strapped around my wrist but inside the cuffs there was a small handle and I was told that it would be much worse for me if I did not held on those handles. But I had sweated so much and the handles had become slippery.
“How is it going up there? Just relax. Now we can finish the last leg.”
He began to tug in the laces. I tried to make him stop but he had laced me so tight that I had difficulties to gather air in order to speak. However, he finished his work in the end and I was lowered to the floor. When I stood on the floor I felt how much the corset squeezed my guts. Then I noticed another thing. My pride stood out, literally. I blushed.
Mr. Grünehose noticed it also. “Relax. We can take care of this. Please follow me.”
Only wearing a corset, I followed him down the hall to a kind of bathroom where a woman in her twenties waited. She was wearing a rubber apron. I was read as a tomato, when Mr. Grünehose presented me.
“Martha. This is Rick Norman – our new student at Victorian Purity. Will you see to that he is made more gender-neutral?”
“Yes - Of course. Please step over here and lie down on the couch with your arms down the side.” Once I did, she strapped me down with three wide leather straps.
She put latex gloves on and started to touch my penis. “Oh. So fine. Just relax as I give you relief. I can read from your journal that you can from HPLC. They did not give you very much time to take care of your self. Am I right?”
I nodded. Her touching me all around my penis and scrotum was so exiting. I began to shake and sweat almost at once.
“You have been waiting for this. Stand still.” She slipped a holster in over it. “It is an artificial vagina almost of the same kind farmers use in connection with bulls. It is very suitable because I can see that you are something of a stud.” If it was possible, I blushed even more.
Soon I climaxed and she saw to that all the semen was extracted from me. I was exhausted as she cleaned me. I saw her pour the semen into a glass which she put inside a freezer. Then she began to measure me. “You are a size two. We don’t have them in stock, so I have something for a temporary solution.” She released me and asked Mr. Grünehose to cuff me on my back. I was too confused with the whole situation to protest.
First she gave me a leather belt on. I closed on the back. Next she took my penis, which was small again and began to put something around it. First there was a leather strap going around the base of my scrotum, next came a strap, which divided my balls. It was cinched very tight. But she did not stop there. The leather strap continued under my penis and there were three straps with small buckles and it was cinched tight.
“Please stop. You are hurting me.”
“Quiet young man: We have young girls here and we can not have a stud like you running around without having your penis a little under control. I am not going to hurt you, but it will hurt if you do not concentrate on your study and start to think about what you will do with them.”
“But I have not….”
“It would not have guessed it and I have my doubts. Teenagers like you are so manipulating.”
She took the ring at the end of the strap going under my penis at connected it to my belt. Now my imprisoned penis was resting against my skin with my ball fully exposed.
“I have to do a little test.” She took an instrument and held it against the back of my scrotum and switched it on. It was nice but when the blood began to run to my penis the tightness of the strap made it hurt.
“Please stop. It hurts.”
She stopped. “It is good. Get him dressed.”
Mr. Grünehose took me down the hall where the stern looking woman waited.
“I can see that we have a student, which needs control. Here is your uniform. Release him from his cuffs.”
She held a maid uniform up.
“No. I am not a transvestite. I am not going to wear it.”
She pressed a button on the wall and soon after two staff members came in the room. Faced with the alternative of being forced, I had to say to her that I would do it willingly.
“OK, Then we can start with the bloomers. These are nice Victorian style bloomers made of PVC and lined with satin. They will feel very nice to your skin. Sit down when you are finished.”
“Here are your knee boots. I know they are high heels but we will help you how to learn to walk in them. Sit still while we lace them.”
When they had got the shoes on they help me up on my feet. One of the staff members held me while I tried to remain balanced.
“Now for you mask. It is a full face latex mask, you will were all time except for bedtime. You will notice that there are openings for the mouth and small holes. Stand still I will help you.”
She stepped behind me and pulled it over me. It was a different feeling than the leather hoods I was used to wear. My skin stuck to the latex. There were laces and a zipper on the back of the head and soon my head was fully enclosed in its tight latex prison. She turned me to a mirror and I almost dropped my tongue when I looked.
I could not recognize myself. I looked like a total strange ball-headed woman with the corset and the latex mask, which had a mouth painted as the person – me – has used a lot of red lipstick. No facial expression could be seen.
While I was frozen from my astonishment they use the time to have me step into the maid uniform. It was a full size PVC maid uniform with a zipper on the back. Next a pinafore came on – also made of PVC. I was already starting to sweat. The final touch was mob cat. I had lost word. The person in the mirror was no longer me.
“Now because you transferred in from HPLC, you have skipped the intake, so you are on level one in our program. The rules on level one is that you have to be followed by a senior student all time and you are not allowed to talk unless during group therapy sessions. Here is Corrine – your mentor during this stage in the program.”
I turned (with help from the staff member) and saw a maid in a similar uniform. However it was a little shorter and red. She also wore a mask, so could not guess her age. I staggered after her for my first class at the facility.
We went down to a gym hall where a group of maids waited lined up as a regiment of soldiers. Some where dressed in black uniforms like me and other had white uniforms on, but they all had masks on and I had to guess from the look of their hands if they were female or male.
“Peer group 9. This is Rick Normann, who has chosen to learn how to run a house. Please present yourself.”
“Ned, Barbara, Marge, Lisa, George”
“Rick. Stand in line. First lesson is always training of posture. Take this book and place it on your cab. Keep your head a little up.” When I was done, we started to walk in line. I was not comfortable with the high heels. A few minutes later I stumbled and only avoided falling to the ground because Corrine grabbed me.
“Rick you are not concentrating. You lowered your head. We have to deal with it.” She called a guard who returned with a white thing. “It is a posture collar, which match your uniform perfectly. Lift your head.” She put the collar on and we continued to train. It did not become easier. We must have marched round the gym for 30 minutes, when Corrine lost patience. “Ned and George: Fetch the buck.”
When they came with it, I wondered. We could not exercise with these outfits on.
“Rick. Bend in over it.” I did and very soon Ned and George held my arms so I could not move.
“I am going to teach you to attend lessons when they are given to you.” I had not noticed that she had taken a strap and now she swung it against my behind. I felt the strap hit my behind and let out a gasp of surprise.”
“Please Corrine. I have never worn high heels before.”
“You have to willing for change. The world does not stand still and it is though. A part of this course is to function in any environment you are thrown in. So what about starting to be open-minded?” She gave me nine lashes more before she stopped.
I came up on my feet. I was sweating all over. My buttocks burned. In fact tears were running down my face inside the hood, but it could of course not be seen.
I placed the book on my head and walked. We continued for an hour and I was totally dry in my mouth.
“Peer Group 9: Please have a drink before we start on our chores.”
We all got water from a kitchenette and marched downstairs. We were handed latex gloves and told to clean the toilets. It was so bad, but man was it hot. Sweat began to run down into my eyes, which smarted and made it difficult to see. When I stood up after cleaning the first toilet, I was dizzy. I held on to the wall and Corrine came over. “Hurry. Drink this water. Always remember to drink. We are loosing close to a liter sweat due to our clothes.”
We continued cleaning for another hour before it was time for lunch. We marched into a dinner hall where close to 100 students were eating. All wearing maid uniforms like me in black, white or blue collars.
There was so many questions, I would like to get an answer for, but I had learned that no-speaking meant no-speaking, so I dinnered quietly together with my peer group.
After dinner we marched down to the beach where we sat down at some tables for group therapy. During this walk I noticed that some students instead of maid uniforms had harnesses on, which looked like those, we had on at HPLC.
When group therapy started, Corrine asked me whether I had some questions. Oh, I had plenty.
“Why are we all wearing masks? I am sweating like a pig.”
“Because people seem to think too much about their appearance. We are not here to cure problems about peoples look. We are here to cure emotional problems, so in order to look past the appearance, the school has decided to make us all look the same.”
“But I am a boy and I am dressed like a girl.”
“Most students come from wealthy families. Children from poor families can not afford to be sent here, somehow they deal with their problems themselves. Due to our status normally we don’t think a lot about maids. This course should learn us to appreciate the value of manual labor. I - for example – could not even remember the name of our maids, before I came here. I looked at them as machines like the dishwasher. My world has changed.”
“My maid became my stepmom and she is the reason for me to be here.”
“She properly thought that you took her for granted. The hard fact is that the only thing in this world you can keep forever, is the memory of those things, you loose.”
She had a point. I had lost my mother. I had lost my father. I even seemed to have lost my home and I now I had lost my identity not being able to see my self in the mirror.
After group therapy we were followed to our bed rooms. There were 4 beds in every room. It took a long time for every one to undress. Each dress had a padlock in the back, so a staff member came around and unlocked it so a room mate could access the zipper.
I needed to pee, so one of the staff members unhooked my imprisoned penis and helped me to the toilet. Then I was followed back to the room where I saw their faces for the first time. The staff members quickly strapped us down in our beds with a large leather strap around our still corseted waist. Then it was light out.
When I was lying in bed my thought went to Bianca. Had she left HPLC and what would become of her? Why did my thoughts concentrate about her, when I was in this odd place with a lot of problems of my own?
The next morning the staff members unbuckled the waist belt and we went down to the bathroom where we began to wash.
Inside the bath room each of us lied down on a trestle and a staff member gently inserted a bulb syringe, which were emptied inside each of us. We were told to lie still for 15 minutes. A nurse went around and pressed us on our lower stomach properly to make the enema more efficient. When the time came, one by one we went over to a toilet and emptied our bowels. The process was repeated once more and when were cleaned, we once again positioned us on the trestle and a butt plug was inserted. They had lubricated it so it did not hurt so much. We went back to our rooms. Now it was to time to dress.
Once against our identities was lost behind the latex mask. After struggling with boots, came the PVC outfit and the staff members locked the padlocks once they were dressed.
We lined up outside the room and started to march down to the dinner hall where breakfast was served. Suddenly someone started to shout. Staff members came running and grabbed a student. Corrine told me to follow her. While we were walking she told me that one of the students on the lower levels would not stop talking so he had been take to “Observation Placement” or “special treatment” as it was called these days due to bad reputation the term Observation Placement has got.
When we arrived the staff had already removed the student’s clothes and mask. Instead he had a gag in his mouth. I was a little curious about the punishment. At HPLC they dealt swiftly with unruly students. “What does special treatment consist of?”
“We use one of the old and well proven tools to heal people – the tranquilizer chair. Some schools here in Jamaica are so cruel that they let the students lie on their stomach all day only with a blanket as support for their heads. We use a comfy chair instead.”
We went over to a toilet chair and when the student was strapped down. Corinne pointed at a picture hanging on the wall. “See. This is an old tranquilizer chair some 100 years. If you notice we have improved it.”
I looked at the student. He had been strapped down with leather straps at his feet, two wide leather straps held his body in place. His arms was cuffed two several places and finally he had an isolation hood on. The mask was supplemented with a head harness with a hook on the top connect to a chain so his neck was stretched and he could not move his head.
“It seems very uncomfortable.”
“In deed it is. Fortunately for you, you were spared for it during your intake, because you were transferred from HPLC. Now for your job: Your task is to sit and monitor him. If he uses the bucket, empty it and replace it. Every second hour you have to remove his pecker gag and offer him something to drink. He can not hear you, so just place the cup at his lips. Three times a day you have to feed him. Staff will provide you with food and water.”
I waited and watched him. Once in a while it could see that he began to shiver and I thought that I could hear sobbing sounds from within the mask. When it was time, I removed his gag and he started to plead me to release him, but I knew my duty. From my time on the road to recovery I knew that some persons have to do it the hard way to fully recover. They can not have it in any other way. So I pressed the cup with water against his lips and he started to drink. It must have been an hour after lunch when the door suddenly opened and two staff members almost carried a girl about 15 years of age into the room. She was crying and shouting
“No. No. Please. I want to talk with my parents. This is a mistake. Please. Stop.”
But it was of no use. 5 minutes later she was strapped down and hooded. They had left the cover for the eyes off and we could see the desperation in her eyes. I think that people about to be executed in the electric chair must have the same look in their eyes. She peed in the bucket when they put the blindfold into place. To this day I remember the look in her eyes as they did that.
I was told to service her also. Every time I removed the gag, she was quiet. She never spoke. She had been broken. In the evening when Corrine fetched me, I asked her why the girl had been placed here.
“You are now allowed to talk outside group therapy, but if you keep quiet about it, I will do an exception. According to the impact letter from her parents, she is choosey. Her parents can not take her anywhere because they are embarrassed by her only eating meat and leaving vegetables behind. So they have sent her here so she can learn that humans should eat diversified food.”
We went back to the dinner hall and ate. Group therapy that evening went by without unusual events.
The next morning I was ushered down to the dressing room. Once inside, the stern looking woman had news for me.
“You can get the leather restraints on your penis off. We have a more permanent solution for you. Guard: Undress him!”
Once I was naked I was given a fast shower and followed back to the office where I was cuffed to chains hanging down from the ceiling. Then the woman approached me.
“See – this is your new chastity belt. It is made out of steel and lined with neoprene. Spread your legs. That is fine. Now I am going to put your penis inside this tube. Don’t worry. It would not hurt unless you become aroused. See, that did not hurt at all.”
There was chains going to the back and the whole belt was locked in the front. It seemed very permanent. I had questions.
“How I am going to pee and for how long I am going to have this belt on?”
“You just have to sit down as girls do when you use the toilet. It is a good thing, because the toilet is easier to clean because now you can not miss the toilet like most men do and the belt comes off every second week or if some kind of infection needs treatment. If the last one is the case, you will have to rest at O.P. until the belt can come on again, so for your own sake I will recommend that you take hygiene very seriously.”
Although my member was now in a permanent prison, it was more comfortable than the leather prison. In a strange way it made me focus on my healing. Once in a while I saw the other students in the evening without the latex mask and then there were the Sundays where we all were allowed to walk around the premises without uniform and mask when we had done our chores.
I remember a particular Sunday. Most of us had only our chastity belt on letting the sun color our pale bodies. Some of the girls could have been quite a bit of crumpet, but I had to try not to think about them in such a manner because I hurt when my member tried to grown inside the tube.
We had a group therapy session down at the beach where we all sat and discussed the previous week. Barbara was sitting behind me applying sun block to my body. We heard some terrible screams coming from some buildings down the beach. “Someone is hurt really bad.”
“Yes. That is another facility belonging to a company based in La Verkin, Utah. It is a really tough place. I saw an article in The Observer called: The last resort about it. It is really, really bad.”
I gulped. A tough place! Can it be worse than this?
We talked and talked. Somehow our naked bodies and missing uniforms let us get the big picture of our ordeal. We were people that were being sent here to heal our self. Yes, we had behaved badly in our past. I had been a moocher on my family. Another one had just taken other clothes from his closet than his parents had selected for him and Lisa had not eaten vegetables even if her parents had served them for her every day. We had been ungrateful to the love our families had given us. We had taken things for granted. A person like Ned could not even make his own bed, because the maid in his house had done it for him all his life.
But still despite our failures, we were people that had been so lucky to be sent here in order to be healed. To this day when I read of teenagers complaining to be sent here and there, I think that they should regard themselves to be lucky, that their parents decided to send them some place where they could learn to be held accountable. Forget the whipping; forget butt plugs, corsets, maid uniform, toilet chairs. The big picture is that if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. Some days ago I noticed that people like Paris Hilton, Joe Francis, off-springs from Rosanne Barr and Barbara Walthers all were sent to facilities not so different from this. They had all been locked up by their parents and they had learned something from it.
After group therapy we asked permission to take some of the students from the horsemanship line out for a ride. Locked in a similar outfit as the one I had worn at HPLC, they pulled a cart with seats for two students. We rode to a field some miles from Medication Inlet, where we played baseball. Somehow we caught up in the game and forgot that we were naked. I received numerous scrapes on my legs and arms when I throw myself on the ground in order to reach the bases.
It was a fun day. I became a child again. For the first time since the death of my father, I could freely laugh again. The darkness coming from the grief had been lifted.
I had been at Meditation Inlet for a month. I had reached level three. Corrine came for me. “You have been select wait at the tables during the graduation ceremony. Please come with me, so you can try out the uniform.
I got to take a bath and once again I was standing inside the lacing room. During my stay at Meditation Inlet I had lost weight. I did not know how much, because we were not having mirrors or weights in the student area. The staff wanted to focus on our mental recovery before we began to focus on our appearance.
A staff member measured me and got the appropriate corset. It was black and reached almost up to my armpits. My feet were lifted of the ground and I was again hanging stretched out.
I soon lost breath when he began to lace it. “It seems that you can be laced down to eighteen inches, which is a very appropriate measurement for a young man like you.”
He tugged and tugged. My vision began to blur. Suddenly my world turned black.
I woke by him using smelling salt on me. “Try to breath relaxed. We are almost there. I am going to let you hang there for 10 minutes, so the fabric can rest before we go for the last leg.”
At last he returned and began to tug the laces again. He pressed his knee against my back and whenever he tugged, it resulted in an uncontrolled grunt from me.
I was lowered to the floor and had to grab on to him. I felt dizzy.
It was time for my new uniform. It was shorter than the old – reaching only to my knees. It was made out of PVC and Red! Very Red!
It had a padlock in the neck and when it was zipped all way up, he locked it. It was very stiff at the neck forcing me to keep my head up. The lacing room was one of the few rooms with a mirror and once I looked in the mirror I could not recognize myself. I was slim! I had always been a little overweight because I had confined myself to my room. Now I had almost a ladylike figure. As I turned I noticed that the uniform had a back slit, which showed the chains going from the back of the chastity belt to the part where my member was held firmly in the tube. If someone could see my face behind the latex mask, they would have noticed that I blushed.
My boots were reaching up to well above my knees. They had a five inch heel and beside a zipper inside they were laced all the way up. The final touch was the mandatory mobcap and a apron made from PVC. I was ready for training.
All afternoon went by with Corrine training us in the gym. We had to carry plastic trays with a lot of plastic service around all afternoon. We were whipped when we were too slow. Parents to the students, which were graduating would be at the party and they should not have to eat cold food just because we were not concentrating.
That evening I for the first time saw the joy in people’s eyes, when they received their offspring back. I understood how difficult for any parents to ship their offspring off to some odd and challenging boarding school not knowing whether they would get them back. Most of them had only looked in a brochure for 5 minutes before they make a decision. Some teenagers die at various therapeutic boarding schools and wilderness therapy every year. That is a sad fact. But as one of the teachers said: They would die anyway and regardless of the techniques used more teenagers are killed in traffic and due to alcohol and drugs than being starved or beaten to death in various behavior programs across the States, so it justifies sending your child away to be imprisoned more than one hundred percent.
Seeing how happy these parents were, I had to cry quietly. I wished that I had gone before. Then my father would have seen my effort to be healed.
The graduation therapy continued while I fought to get hold on myself. Students from the horsemanship line made a fabulous dressage show before it was time for each student to enter the stage and undergo the graduation ceremony. As a rite of passage loosely based on the traditions performed at the Taoist Dong Lung Gong temple in Tungkang each students received a number of lashes based on their age from a light whip in order to get rid of back luck. Some of the lashes seemed to be given with enthusiasm by the relatives. In a way they seemed to use this opportunity to cleanse their own anger toward the pain they had been victim of by the student also.
The ceremony came to an end and I was cleaning up, when I heard a familiar voice calling my name. It was Maria!
The plane was touching down in Whitefish airport just a few miles east of the city in Montana. You made wonder why I left Meditation Inlet. But what happened was that Maria came to Jamaica. The next day the school gave me time off to talk to her. We took a cart with two students, who drove us to a field a couple of miles away from the boarding school. We could see the fantastic view of Pedro Bay with the other boarding schools. Maria ignored the screams from the terrible place only suitable for severe BDSM-plays and started to explain why she had come here.
“Bianca is not doing so well. She is suffering from a severe depression. She got involved in some horseplay and was dropped from Level four to level two. She is not working the program.”
“Why don’t you sent her here or back to HPLC?”
“HPLC is totally booked as we speak. President Bush new mental health plan, which calls for mandatory screening of mental diseases at teenagers, has meant that an unbelievable number of students have been tested in advance by their parents at facilities like Teenscreen. That had caused panic. No parents wants to be responsible for yet another Virginia High or Columbine High massacre, so as soon as the test-result show the slightest suspicion, HPLC or another facility is called to fix the program. The transport firm even had to increase the fleet of vans by five, so they now have 9 vans and three planes. Moving Bianca is out of the question, so you have to go there.”
“But I have not graduated and is girls only.”
“That is correct but you are belted and used to be dressed as a girl. I have made an agreement with the director that you will become a teacher’s assistant and receive one-to-one therapy on the top of it.”
“I will miss my peer group here at Meditation Inlet, which had given me so much, but I have feelings for Bianca. I will go.”
“Thank you. I know that we not always have seen things in the same way, but I will never forget that you will do this.”
Corrine was sad to se me go but as she said it was not an exit plan. I was not being shipped off to an airport somewhere in the states just to start my adult life with 50 dollars. I was continuing my journey towards metal healing.
So I left. It was a long travel. Due to overbooking in the transport division, I had to travel on ordinary planes, so in order to pass airport security without incidents; my belt was shipped separately some days before. I changed planes several times before I flew the last leg in a small private plan.
As we landed in the small airport west of Whitefish (airport is so much to say. I was just a small airstrip of grass. I was welcomed by Mrs. Burns the director of Sun Grove Academy. She handed me the packet with my belt and I took it on and gave her the keys. As we left the airport by Amory Road, she began to tell me about the Academy.
“I noticed that there is a large airport not so far from here. Why did I go there?”
“Yes. Glacier Park International Airport is not so far from here, but I think that your flight was booked of our habit. Normally facilities in our industry do not use the larger airports because students by most teenager transport firms are restrained with handcuffs and leg irons, despite the fact that most of them states otherwise on their homepage. So in order to avoid questions, small airstrips are often used.”
“OK. What kind of facility do you run?”
“We run a small facility for about 50 girls. Out foundation is the Christian way of life. Like most behavior modification facilities we use a 6 step program all our students have to go through before they graduate.”
We drove into the town of Whitefish and turned left and down at Highway 93. A mile or so we turned right and we ended up at a small road.
“This is Grove Road and there is the school. Welcome to Sun Grove Academy”.
When I left the car and took my luggage, I noticed the surroundings. The facility was located on a small rise. There was a large main-building and two smaller buildings downhill. In the middle there was a large field for games.
Then I noticed the students. All had bib-overalls, T-shirts and veils, which covered so much that you could only see their face. It must have been nice for Bianca, because she like me was shaved totally bald when she was at HPLC. I could only guess how she would look with hair.
As I was shown my room Mrs. Burn handed me some fabric. “Here are your veil and your uniform are on your bed.”
“I thought that I was going to be a teacher.”
“That is almost correct. You are a junior staff member. You have all the privileges of level 6 besides aiding with the education. But you still have to wear the uniform and I also do, when I return. In fact none male are allowed on campus unless we are talking of a visit or the church service, which is held in our local chapel. Wait for my here until I return.”
I dressed and looked myself in the mirror. It was an odd sight but the uniform was so much more comfortable. Mrs. Burns returned. She was also in uniform. We went down to main hall. The girls we encountered turned to see who I was when we passed them. My member began to hurt as it began to increase in size inside the tube. At Meditation Inlet I could not see, who was who. The maid uniforms made us all anonymous. Okay, they had veils on but you could see their lineament and it woke some feelings inside me. I managed to get hold of my self and we left the house and walked towards the chapel.
“Bianca is inside. She is doing her morning prayer, which last about 2 hours.”
As we came inside the chapel I noticed that there was only chair along the wall. There was no bench, but instead the floor was filled with students lying on their stomach with their arms stretched out. When I looked closer I could see that some of them were strapped down to the floor with leather straps on their legs arms and body.
Mrs. Burns answered my obvious question. “Those students, who are strapped down, are on level one and two. We want to teach piety to our students. For centuries have people resigned to God lied down on in this position to ask for forgiveness for their sins, so what would be more natural for us to ask our students to do the same. They don’t like it, but it is because the modern world and all those passing vogues which have passed on to them since the introduction of swing music have corrupted our youth. They have lost their faith in God, but luckily for them we are here to help them and show them the right path.”
We moved through the chapel and stopped at one of the students lying on the floor and kneeled down.
Mrs. Burns addressed the student. “Bianca”.
She turned her. She turned her face. She studied my face for a moment and then she gave us a smile. “Rick”.
Mrs. Burns released her straps and we went outside where we were guide to a table outside and left alone to talk.
“Rick. I can’t believe that you are here. Did you not go to Jamaica?”
“Yes, but Maria came to see me, because you have problems and I agree to transfer here and functions as a kind of junior staff member.”
“Do you not feel it odd to be dressed as a girl wearing a veil?”
“You should have seen the uniforms down in Jamaica. Believe me, this is nothing.”
“I know that some parents have been asked to transfer their girl to Jamaica to the horsemanship line or take them home, so maybe it is tougher down there.”
“It is tougher down there!! However, I did well down there and I only choose to come here because you had problems. Could you tell me about them?”
Bianca hesitated. Then she started. “I was on a home-visit and met a fellow student from the university. I suddenly realize for how long I have been away from the general public and what I have missed. When I returned it was like being in a dark hole without time and space. Nothing happens here and the academics are so easy that it sucks.”
“Bianca. I care for you. You know why you were sent here. Your studies made you loose idea about how ordinary life is.”
“But most countries around the world are governed by such people, who turn into career politician right out of school. They manage to do the job very well.”
“Maybe; But you have not involved yourself in politics. You were going for an ordinary job and there you have to keep in touch with reality.”
“You confuse me. Please leave me alone.” She started to cry.
It was very obvious that I could not reach her yet, so I left her. I talked with Mrs. Burn and we decide to discuss her situation with the doctor at the school the next Monday.
I used the rest of the day to tour the campus and getting familiar with the facility.
I was about to go to bed, when Mrs. Burn came into my room and ask me to come with her to a cabin, which were placed isolated from the campus. Once inside she explained why she had fetched me.
“I am very good at reading body language and I know how the uniforms down at Meditation Inlet are. I guess that the sight of our girls aroused you.”
She placed her hand outside the chastity belt.
“And it must hurt. Am I right?”
“Strip. I will see to your relief.”
I very quick stood before her only wearing the belt.
Once I did, she took my hands and placed them in leather cuffs. I also got a collar on which were connected with strap to the cuffs. Next she gave a blindfold on. The final touch was a gag ball, which filled my mouth. She took me to a bath room where I was told to kneel down on a pillow. The next thing I felt were a plug entering my rear. It must have been hollow because once it was pumped I felt liquid entering my rectum.
“I am going to clean you very meticulous, because often people have been living on unhealthy food. Here at Sun Grove all students start a period of detoxification, once they arrive. You should see what people have coming out of their bowels. It is not nice stuff.”
When the flow stopped, she let me rest for 15 minutes. My stomach began to cramp. I had to bite very hard into the gag in order to avoid screaming. I had experienced enemas before, but she must have put least two liters inside me. I was sweating like a pig when she finally allowed me to sit down on the toilet and move my bowels.
The process was repeated once more and when I was finished, she cleaned me with a hand shower and dried me. I was guided into the room next to the bathroom, where she showed me over to a trestle. I was placed over it and she took latex gloves on. It did not look good.
She began to put lubricate into my hole. Then she went over to a drawer and got something from it. She undressed and I saw that she had a leather harness on. It consisted of a waste belt, with straps going down to a piece of leather, which were covering her genitals. She clicked a rubber penis on.
“Rick. Every morning I put this outfit on. It was two dildos inside the leather piece, which fills me completely. I do this to remind me that I do not need a man. I can devote my life to God and every single step I take makes me feel the pleasure of work. You, however, are a male and male’s needs to have their thoughts taken of screwing girls all time. You have the tame your penis. I will help you with that. It needs to be milked several times per month. Milking would take away some of the aggressiveness males are known for.”
She pushed the penis against my sphincter. First there was some resistance, but then it slipped in. She worked her penis all into me in a slow pace. Then she increased the pace. It took some minutes but then I felt that my penis began to struggle inside its cage. It was painful and when she began to tease my suppressed scrotum, it became almost unbearable. Tears began to run down from my eye and I began to sob.
Suddenly out of nowhere semen began to run from my penis. It was the same odd feeling, I had experienced down at HPLC, when I was put into the chair. No real feeling of pleasure. Just a relief similar to the one, you experience when you have waited long before you can go to the toilet. I cried.
I was released and told to sit down on the bed.
“Rick. I know it seems unfair, that you are not allowed to have a full orgasm, but it is for your own best. You are fighting in primitive instinct, which drives all males among animals. Their instinct drives them to having sex with as many women as possible. But you are not an animal. You are a human being. Decent human beings are supposed to be content with one partner. That is also Gods will.”
I nodded. Suddenly I felt shameful for having such toughs about other girls than Bianca. She was right. I was grateful to know a person like Mrs. Burns with such knowledge.
I returned to my room and went to sleep.
I sat down at the table with Mrs. Burns and doctor Hohlköpfig and discussed Bianca’s case. After an hour or so, it was clear to us all that she was depressed.
“We can keep her on medication but it would slow her down and her stay would dramatically increase in length. She is not like most girls, who attend this school. Most are dropouts which are send here because their parents think that they can do better in an environment without temptations. The school work we can offer is too easy for her.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I run a private clinic down the road. Severe depressions can be treated with ECT. If Rick comes along and look after her in the days after treatment where most patients experience short time lost of memory, I can cure her in 3 or 4 weeks.”
Mrs. Burns agreed. After all it was not the first time that she had seen the some students needs more than the caring surroundings at the school could offer.
So some days later, Bianca sat down in a car next to me and we drove down to the clinic. Of course she asked where we were going and I smiled to her and told her that we just had to undergo a checkup because HPLC had reported that some of their students had got a virus, which could course stomach problems.
Once we arrived at the clinic we went inside a waiting room where I told her to undress. I don’t know what cause her to be suspicious, but she refused. “Rick. Tell me the truth. Why am I here?”
“We are going to treat your depression.”
“But I am not depressed. I am not going to stay here.”
She went for the door, but outside there were a lot of staff members waiting for her and they took her to the floor and she got an injection. When she was asleep she was undressed and given a new outfit. It was a hospital gown made out of latex. Because she was so defiant, she was restrained to her bed and given a diaper.
When she woke, I sat next to her bed.
“Have you slept well?”
She was angry. “Please let me go. I am not sick.”
“Relax. We are going to help you. I will stay in hospital during your entire stay.”
“I hate you!”
I stayed with her. I gave her food because her hands were in leather cuffs. I even cleaned her, because she could not go the toilet.
Then it was time for her treatment. First she was rolled down to a room where she got a head harness with bit gag in her mouth. She tried to fight us, but of course being restrained meant that she was no match for us. Next we released her legs and held them, while she was fitted with a butt plug, which was pumped up. She was restrained again and now it was a six point restraint. Then we rolled her into the ECT room. As she saw the equipment, she must have figured out what was going to be done to her. She pulled her restraint and cried out, but she was soon in place. Her head were immobilized and she was given an injection.
“Now relax young lady. I have given you something to make your muscles relax. It is only a little because most of the fun in applying ECT is to observe the muscles contractions.”
He placed the electrodes on each side of her head and pressed a button on the equipment. Her body did at once start to spasm. It was thrown against the restraints. At a point I was afraid that the leather straps would burst. The shock seemed to continue forever. Each second felt like minutes. Foam began to appear from her mouth. I looked at the doctor. “Just 5 seconds more!”
The current was turned off and her body continued to cramp for a little while before becoming limb. We rolled her back to her room. When she woke the next morning, I tried to communicate with me, but she treated me as a stranger. She even asked my name. I was worried but the doctor assured me that she would regain her memory after a day or two. The next day was better. Some of her memory about HPLC was missing, but generally we could remember where she was and who she was.
On day four she was back to normal. She tried to convince me that she no longer was depressed, but as the doctor told me, it was a very obvious attempt to manipulate us.
So we came into her room with the head harness and she knew that is time again. “No. Rick. Don’t let them do this to me. Please. Nooooo!!”
But we have to save her. She struggled and cleansed her mouth shut, but one of the staff members had worked on asylums for years and she pulled Bianca’s waist belt, which forced Bianca to open her mouth for air and we were able to slip the bit gag in. She was pulling her restraints and trying to shout, but the bit gag was huge and no understandable word came from her mouth. She was rolled into surgery and was given the muscle-relaxing drug succinycholine was injected into her.
She continued to struggle until the current was applied. She even peed in her pants. Once again her body tensed up and she cramped. Once again foam began to appear around her mouth.
During her 6 week at the clinic she was given 8 shock treatments and in the end she improved. When we returned to Sun Grove, it was a Bianca with a focus on her future. We were both on our track towards mental healing again.
Mrs. Burn called us in her office. A new girl – Heather - would arrive the next day. It would be Bianca’s task to take care of the admission process. My task was to support Bianca doing it.
The next morning we stood down at Highway 93 and waited for the escorts to arrive. The all familiar white van arrived and the girl dressed with only a diaper, leather muffs and enclosed leather hood were transferred into our care. We took her under our arms and guided her down to our intake station where we would process her according to the protocol of our facility.
Once inside the cabin we removed the hood.
She was disoriented. “Where am I?”
“Welcome to Sun Grove Academy”
“Welcome to Sun Grove Academy – your new boarding school. Did your parents not tell you that you was going when the escort arrived?”
“I just remember that my mother woke me in the middle of the night with two women in the room speaking about how she was forced to sent me. I was sleepy and I did not catch anymore of what she said before she ran out of the room. Within seconds they pulled a hood over my head and the next thing I saw was you.”
“I hope that you have a somehow comfortable ride. I have been traveling with them, when I was sent to my first school. It is not easy.
“They were nice. They removed the mouth piece and let me drink and eat when I needed to. What really bothered me was the diaper. It is so degrading.” She sobbed.
“I know. I have been told that they learned it from the case with the astronaut who drove across the country in order to deal with her rival. Now diapering has become standard in the youth transport business. They did not do it to humiliate you. They did it so they could transport you here without breaks and minimize the flight risk.”
She seemed to be calmed a little.
“But why have I been sent here? I have not done anything wrong.”
“We have an impact letter from your mom. We will sit down with you and talk about it later, but first you have to have the school uniform on. Let us start in the bath room.”
“But you are a boy. I have not been naked in front of a boy before.”
“They have taken precautions so I can not hurt you.” I guided her hand down to my trousers so they could feel my belt.
“It… it is a chastity belt! What kind of place is this.”
“Yes. You are safe from me. Just follow us, so we can proceed.”
“Could you not remove this leather muff? My arms are sleeping.”
“Yes, when you are entering the bath. Not before.”
She came to terms with what we said and followed us quietly into the bathroom. She stopped when she saw our wooden trestle. “What is that?” Suddenly she was scared and tried to pull back, but we took her under her arms with a firm grasp and forced her down on the trestle.
“Just relax. It is just a mandatory exam for contrabands. It is done every day in boarding schools like ours. We have done it before. It would not hurt you.”
“Please. Let me go. I have not done anything wrong.”
Bianca kneeled down at her side. “Relax Heather. It will over very fast.”
I took a rubber glove on and lubricated it. I removed her diaper. Luckily she had only done number one. I probed her rectum and found nothing. Then I inserted the nozzle so we could let the contents of the enema bag clean her stomach.
“What are you doing?”
“We live of very healthy food here. In order to make the adjustment from normal junk food to our food faster, we clean the contents of your stomach. Bianca – the gag.”
Bianca took the gagball and inserted it in her mouth. I opened for the enema bag and the fluid began to run into her. 2 liters is a lot for an untrained student, so we stayed at her side calming her. Her body began to shake out of discomfort. Sweat appeared on her face. I remembered my first enema down in Mexico. It was not like this. Here at Sun Grove Academy it is all about loving and comforting each other so we can let the love from God enter our minds.
Finally the bag was empty and we removed the nozzle and replaced it with a butt plug, which could be pumped, so we could wait the full 15 minutes before it was time for her to sit down on the toilet. She was crying from pain. We helped her up and walked a little around in the room so the water could reach every corner of her bowels. Next we allowed her to sit down on the toilet and I deflated the plug so she could spill her bowels.
She was placed on a chair and I removed the gagball. Bianca took care of her haircut. She was confused and did not realize what was about to happen before it was too late. Bianca removed her hair with a machine. Once she saw her hair lying on the floor, she cried out.
“What are you doing? It will never grow out.”
“It is mandatory and be relaxed. It will grow out in time but it will prevent you from running away because you will easy to recognize.”
She started to cry once more. Bianca continued to shave her head. When she was done, we helped her to a shower.
She was totally exhausted when she came out from her shower. Now it was time for her school uniform. It was nothing like the other facilities I had been at. No leather or corset. Just normal underwear. Next came a white head sock to cover her ball head, a T-shirt and then an overall. The last thing was white veil. She was ready to join our student community.
|We followed her over to our small chapel where all the other student were reciting the Lord's Prayer, which they did six times every day. Now it was time for Heather to receive forgiveness for her sins. We asked her to lie down on her stomach in the aisle with her arms out to the side. Once she did as we told her, we quickly buckled leather straps around her arms and legs and her body, so she could not move. She did not resist, she was in shock. It was a good sign that she had started to adjust.|
She was left tied to the floor the next three hours before we took her to lunch. It was then, I opened the envelope with her impact letter.
“Miss. Willow – Heather if I may call you that I have read the impact letter. What is that about listening to this controversial Richard Wagner type. I can understand that your mother is very concerned, because you do not share her love for more classic compositions.”
“What. Am I being sent here for listening to the wrong kind of music?”
“Yes. It seems so. Your mother consulted a doctor and he is based on the evidence convinced that you are suffering from oppositional defiant disorder and after careful investigation, they correctly found out that this place is fixing such problems. Since the introduction of swing music there has been a need for a facility like this to help you discover God again, so girls like you can make the right choices in life. Actually there is a clinical term for this behavior. It is called ODD - .
“I am not believing my ears. Listening to the wrong type of music means banishment from my home for how long?”
“I will return to the music issue, but let us first discuss the deeper reason for your banishment. The ed-con, your mother consulted have analyzed you and have diagnosed you as suffering from Oppositional defiant disorder.”
“What is that?”
“That is a severe psychological disease some teenagers are suffering from.”
“What? I am not sick.”
“Let me go through the symptoms of ODD. Did you loose your temper from time to time.”
“I take it as maybe. Did you ever argue with our mother?”
“With another word: Yes. Do you refuse to follow all rules set up by your mother or your school?”
“Some of her rules are ridiculous. I always have to wear gloves when doing dishes.”
“That is another Yes. Do you annoy other people by purpose?”
“Not by purpose”
“OK. No to that question. Do you blame other for your mistakes.”
“No. But I feel that my mother blames me for her mistake.”
“No with your words. What about being easily annoyed?”
“If you lived in my house with all her rules and attended school with boring teachers, you will easily annoyed.”
“I will take this as an Yes. How about angry and resentful?”
“I have to admit that we have been in a lot of loudly arguments lately, but she treat me like a 10 year old.”
“Yes to that question. The last question is whether you are spiteful or even vengeful.”
“My mother calls me that when I call her a jailer. I don’t think so.”
“Another maybe. I have to say that you are right on the border. If you met 5 of these criteria, then you were very ill, but your health could be solved by a stay here for a short period of some months if you are willing to work with yourself.”
“But I am not ill and I will certainly not stay here.”
“Now you are in denial. You are so we can help you. It is time for yet another prayer, so you can find the truth with help from God.” I stood up and took her arm. She pulled away, but Bianca grasped her other arm and a staff member came forward with a arm-binder. We forced her on the table on her stomach with her arms on her back.
“Stop you are hurting me.”
|The armbinder went over her arms very quickly and soon her arms were
useless. Now were she was easy to control, Bianca could guide her back to
the chapel on her own, so I just walked behind her. She cursed at us and
said some terrible sentences, which she had to pray for hours in order to
received forgiveness for. I took pity at her and gave her a bit gag so the
world could be free from her contribution of subverting our beautiful
Inside the chapel she was forced down on her stomach once more and when her legs and body had been strapped down we removed the armbinder and strapped her arms down so she was lying stretched out as a cross.
We left her so she could search her soul for a path toward a fertile relationship with God.
Two months later I had a meeting with Mrs. Burns. We discussed Heather’s case. She had been very contrary in the start. In fact most of her first month were spent on the floor in the chapel strapped down.
But then suddenly one morning during the breakfast she asked for permission to sit down in the chapel for a prayer alone. I have to say that I suspected that all she wanted was a chance to run away, but the whole school has cameras everywhere so I let her. She sat there for almost 3 hours before rejoining the daily program. From that day on she actively took part in whatever activities, we ordered her to. In fact Bianca had just taken her and some of the other girls on a trip to a park near Whitefish to pick up litter as community service.
When Mrs. Burns had heard my report about Heather, she wanted to discuss another matter with me.
“Rick. You have seen almost all of the schools in the WWADS organization. And you have been through our leadership program. I have just been at a board meeting with all the top people in the organization and we have been planning a expansion for some time.”
“We want to create a number of programs targeted to solve specific problems by the teenagers of this country. You are familiar with . It is a short program, that boost teenagers, who have come to a stop. Meditation Inlet, as you have seen offers several programs everyone targeting separated areas.”
“A medical center in Tennessee, which have existed since 1986 – – has joined WWADS this year. It deals with hard cases, which needs a lot of medical treatment. They have a level 3 lockdown complete with restraints and straightjackets as entry level. Level two takes place in a former public park they have bought and converted into a semi-wilderness course.”
“ built on the principals of a now closed church in California also joined WWADS. They run a kind of transition program where teenagers, who have been in treatment for a long time can enjoy a semi-structured environment before starting living on their own – it is almost like a collage.”
“But across the country a demand of a program, which deals with senioritis has increased. All to many high school students do somehow see the senior year as something they just want to get over with – of course with spring break and prom etc. So Mr. Hallowgreen has decided to create a special program in Costa Rica for this target group. We want someone who has been in our programs to start it up. Gonzarles at once thought about his niece – Bianca and your step-mom, who happened to be visiting him mentioned you because you are so close. What do you say to be manager of a ranch?”
I was surprised.
“Lost your tongue? You have deserved it.”
Bianca was enthusiastic when she returned.
A month later I was waiting for my luggage at the . It took forever, but I wasn’t in a hurry. Bianca had left Montana a week before. She had met with her uncle at the Ranch and to finalize the papers on the purchase.
I left the airport and found Mr. Gonzarles waiting in a car. I asked about Bianca and he said that she had been ill for a couple of days, but she was waiting at the ranch.
We left the airport and drove for some hours on Highway 3. Maybe Highway wasn’t a good word for the road because it was not of US standard. After some time we got to a city called Orotina. We didn’t stop but continued for a while until we turned onto highway 27.
I asked about the ranch. He told me that it was a former ranch hotel and he got it cheap. Apparently it was not the only boarding school for Americans kids in the area, but some years ago the government raided the other school so most of the investors had been scared away.
We turned right at a dirty small road. After a couple of miles we entered a gate with an empty sign. He pointed at the sign: “We have to figure out a name of the ranch.”
We drove up the drive way. When I left the car a familiar voice greeted me. “Welcome to Costa Rica, senor Norman”.
It was Bianca.
And she was dressed in the tightest leather corset I had seen since my time at HPLC.
“Bianca. You look gorgeous.”
“Thank. Come with me. Never mind about your luggage. My uncle will have someone to take about it.”
I was looking forward to be with her alone. When I left Montana, I also left my chastity belt behind due to the airport security. I wanted her so much.
We went inside a building. “Undress Rick.”
I took me only seconds to loose my clothes.
“Let me blindfold you”
I was in darkness. Every nerve in my body was so tense. I had lust for her. We had been through so much but I had always had a chastity belt on, so this would be my first time. I felt leather cuff being put on my wrists. She put her mouth to my ear.
“I want you to enjoy every bit of it.” Then she kissed my cheek.
She removed the blindfold only to replace it with a leather mask. I was so excited that I was speechless. My member stood up and was dripping. The leather mask had openings for the eyes and mouth but when she was finished lacing it, she put a gag into my mouth. Next came two eye pads. Both were fastened with leather cords and soon I was in total darkness with limited hearing and unable to speak. My body trembled from expectation. She took my arm and guided me forward. The leather cuffs were connected to something. I felt my arms being pulled up in the air until I was only standing on my tip-toes with difficulty.
When would she start? I was so tense. I felt something being pulled around my waist. A person or a group had entered the room. I felt how several hands held the thing around the waist. Suddenly a foot was placed on my back and I discovered that they had put me in a corset. Every tug was hard and intense. The air was forced out of my lungs. I tried to relax as much as possible but it was too much. Not even at HPLC they laced the corset to tight. I did not know whether I passed out, but when I woke I was hanging in my restraints. Not a sound was heard. Then I felt someone touching the corset. Suddenly whoever it was started to work with the laces again. I was struggling for a minute. It could not be true. I was laced beyond imagination and it was obviously not satisfactory.
I felt it like I was going to be cut in half. In a state of panic I tried to protest, but there was no air left in my lunges to shout and the gag would properly prevented it.
It took forever I became dizzy and must have past out again. Suddenly I realized that I was being lowered. They supported me and guided me over to a bench where took a seat. My arms were put something behind my back and I felt how my underarms were pulled together. It hurt a little but they were soon finished and the thing my arms were put in was fastened with leather straps around the shoulders.
Finally my member was put into a sheath. I began to sob. I so had expected to be with Bianca. All too long I my private parts had been locked up. During the whole flight down here, I had to put my mind on everything else but Bianca or I was at risk of embarrassing myself.
Soon I felt my member being pull info place and I felt a butt plug entering my rear. My memories went back to Mexico and my time at HPLC. Suddenly I remembered how I was tricked into the boot camp. Was I tricked again?
The hood was removed and Bianca stood before me. She kissed me. My member fought its prison and it hurt.
“Bianca … Why?”
“Quiet now. Let me show you what kind of property we are going to run. Open your month and lift your head a little.”
I trusted Bianca so I let her put the posture collar on and I willingly opened my mouth so she could put the bit in. She took me over to a full-size mirror. “How do you fancy the school uniform?”
It looked very similar to the one we were put in at HPLC but the armbinder was different in design.
“We are going to offer an equestrian boot camp and a program for senior students, which have come to a halt in the final year of High School. When I arrived my uncle showed me the campus like I am going to show you it. If you are a good boy we can be celebrating your arrival in some days.”
My heart sank. Some days!
“Lets try the horse walker out.”
I suddenly got second thoughts, but she took a leash and hooked it onto my collar, so I had to follow along.
A couple of minutes later we stood before a huge horse walker where 12 students could exercise.
I tried to protest when she guided me into position, but she ignored me. Instead she began to lick my nipples and they stood out within seconds. My member started to hurt again as it tried to fight its prison. The pain caused by her clamping on of the nipple clamps hanging down from the walker was intense. I cried out. Bianca did stop. She licked the other nipple and soon the other clamp was put on. I bit into the gag due to the pain. Tears ran down from my eyes. Bianca went over to a switch on the wall and pulled it. The walker started to move. I had to follow along.
Bianca came over to me.
“You are now in fact testing the introduction program, my uncle and I have designed for new students. I am so looking forward to evaluate it with you.”
I didn’t know for how long I walked in the horse walker. 1 hour – 3 hours. To this day I don’t know. I was thirsty and whenever I slowed down the clamps on my nipples got me up in speed again.
At last Bianca returned. “Are you enjoying it?”
While I walked, my experiences from my stay at HPLC returned. I remembered my doubt and slowly I became unsure whether I had fooled myself. Was I worthy to run a program? Were all these months in various programs in vain? I knew that it was normal in most programs to find some stupid excuse to drop a student to the lowest level just a couple of month before graduation just to test them. Some fail. They have in fact just played along in the program for comfort. The core of the program has not been put into their spine. So they fail with blaming other instead of taking responsibility for their own actions. I came to think of my own program experience.
In fact I had only completed one program – HPLC. I left Meditation Inlet before graduation and by Sun Grove Academy my schoolwork was done besides teaching other students. It was not perfect. In the end I choose this ordeal as my test toward the basis in the programs I had been at. That is why I nodded when Bianca asked me.
Bianca game me something to drink. It is not easy to drink with a bit gag in your mouth, but I managed. She released me from the horse walker and we went outside where a cart waited. I was connected to it and she took the seat. Soon I was running around the farm pulling the cart while Bianca told me about the various places. We came to an artificial lake with an Island in the middle. On this Island they have built a house for the seminars and daily education.
We continued our drive to the horse stables, which in a few months would be filled with students.
Bianca released me from the cart and she guided me into one of the boxes. “Now we can be undisturbed.”
She gave me a blindfold on. Next she helped to lie down in the hay. I felt her hands all over me. My member began to hurt in its prison. My nipples were licked. She put her mouth close to my ear.
“I am going to milk you!”
It was frustrating. My member fought its steel-prison and it hurts.
She guided me so I rested on my knees. I was looking forward to loose the belt, but it didn’t happen. Instead I felt fingers at my sphincter. She must have put a rubber glove on. Suddenly I realized what was about to happen. I tried to protest but the gag made my speech unintelligible.
“Now relax. Then it will hurt less.”
I felt something being pressed against my sphincter and regardless of the fact that she had lubricated my behind it did hurt. Never I had felt such a pain before. I felt a tear running down over my cheek.
“Don’t be a squeezer!”
Suddenly my sphincter gave in for the cruel attacker. A shock went through my body. She waited a little so my body could adjust and then she began to ride me. I felt it like my behind was on fire. It was all pain. It brought back the unpleasant memory of the chair I was punished in back at HPLC.
Her strokes were long and trustful. After I while a different feeling began to grow in my body. It was like I needed to pee. Suddenly I felt how fluid began to run out of my member, but I did not get any orgasm. It was crueler than anything I have experienced in my life.
She took the dildo out. My behind was totally out of control. My sphincter felt like she had put red-hot iron in there. She let me wait for some time. It felt like forever. Then I felt something being put in there. She removed the blindfold and I saw that there was a horsetail hanging down between my legs.
“It is time for more exercise”
She took me back to the horse walker and I was left to exercise. She had set the pace high. I had difficulties keeping the speed up. My nipples hurt when the chain pulled. I lost track of time. The only thing I had in my mind was to prevent my nipples from being pulled apart by the clamps connected to the chain.
I didn’t notice that I had got a lot of spectators. Suddenly the speed of the horse walker slowed down. It was then I saw the all the staff Mr. Gonzarles and Bianca included stood around the walker.
The walker came to a stop. They all began joined into an applaud and Bianca came over to me and removed my bit.
“Congratulations! You have passed our test. You are now the manager of the school.”
She hugged and kissed me. After the painful removal of the clamps, we went inside the office where my cuffs were removed. Bianca told me that my performance was far better than hers when she tested herself last week. I had beaten her time during the endurance test on the walker by 30 minutes.
I got a shower and then we talked for the rest of the day about the ranch and how to introduce it on the market.
I got the idea of an equestrian boot camp where parents could enroll their child for 30 days and from then on decide if 30 days made it or they should leave their offspring for the rest of the year. I had noticed two boot camps in Kidder, Missouri and Lucedale, Mississippi both have summer programs lasting about 30 days where after the parent contacts have a list of confessions leaving parents to believe that it is a good idea for them to leave their child at the camp.
Then there is the problem of the distance and how to fool the government to let the teenagers come into the country. Costa Rica had their share of problems with American programs. In fact a ranch just down the road was raided a couple of years back.
It was then the idea of combining a holiday for the parents and the boot camp for the children came up. The owner of the ranch down the road, which was raided, has a yacht down in a harbor called Herradura. So we agreed to drive down there a buy a boat in a couple of weeks, so the parents could enjoy themselves while we took care of their children. The authorities would never suspect whole families entering the country.
We also came up with a name -
It was late evening before the meeting was over.
I was beginning to wonder whether I would end up in the stables again when Bianca suddenly stood beside me and asked if I was tired. I turned towards her and before I knew it we ended up with a long kiss.
I followed her into a room. “How do you fancy our master bed room?”
I noticed the chains and leather cuffs on the bed and I knew what she wanted. Soon she was lying on her back with her legs and arms cuffed to the bed. I rested beside her and started to tease her nipples. When I removed the leather piece covering her private parts, I noticed that she was very wet. I put a blindfold on her and gag ball in her mouth. Then I continued to use a nipple sucker and my tongue on her breasts. She was breathing heavily. I could see that she wanted it. I found a big dildo was in her upper desk drawer. I teased her private parts and they trusted the dildo all the way in with a firm push. I could see how her body was hit with a shock. Then I used the dildo hard on her. A suppressed whimper came from her but I ignored it. She was sweating all over. She pulled her restraint and suddenly a repressed scream came from her. Her body continued to convulse for a while before her body became limp.
I freed her and gave her a kiss before we went to sleep.
The next days were busy. Tons of paper work had to be done. It was stressful. I was totally exhausted when Bianca entered the office. “Rick – Lets go for a ride”
Bianca had a license so she drove the car. We drove south and came to the main road, where we aimed for the coast. A couple of hours later we were down at the harbor near Herradura, where we looked at the boats. After a dinner we met with several of the boat owners before we went down to a beach south of the harbor. There was a kind of golf course next to the beach and we settled in the grass where we could see both the harbor, the golf course and a small river.
When we sat and enjoyed our selves I came to think about the unbelievable journey of emotional growth I had been through the last year. It seems like yesterday where I was a lazy teenager with no worries about the world beside how long it will take for the pizza store to deliver my order.
Now I had a job with a meaningful task. I was going to help young people. I also had a lovely girl friend. All those things I couldn’t even think off before Bianca pulled me out my self-imposed prison.
It was at that moment I realized that I had found the course of my life. I knew that I had to do next.
“Bianca. Will you marry me?”
She turned towards me astonished by my question. For at moment she hesitated, but then her face lightened up in a smile. “Oh. Rick. Yes, I will”.
When we were back, we told the rest of the staff and our wedding was held a month later.
Here some year’s later life are good. Our school is filled with students. Most of the families use a cover about the family going on holiday. When they are summoned to what the students think are a intro meeting for the new arrivals at the ranch hotel, which are our cover, we let the bomb go about them being on a boot camp. You should see their faces filled with disbelief.
However, sometime I wonder how I look back in Mexico when Maria told me about my destiny. Now, I know that she did the right thing, but it would be funny to have a photo.
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