Chapter 39: Sheila's New Cellmate

It was late afternoon. By the time they'd taken the long walk, Sheila had sand in her shoes. While Kelly entered the Pet Shop, she stopped and shook them. When she had her shoes back on and followed the blue girl in, she found Kelly pulling things, right and left, off of shelves and from hooks. Kelly began handing them to Sheila, and soon the blonde's arms were full.

"Kelly, do I really need all this junk?"

Kelly shrugged.

"You might, Kiddo. Anyway, I always take everything I can think of when I come here. It's a long walk round trip."

Loaded down, Sheila had difficulty not dropping something. She and the blue girl returned along the path much more slowly than they had come. As they approached the clearing with its tables and chairs where Crane and the clients had awaited them on her first day on the island, the stack in her arms shifted. The enameled green hair dryer slipped out and vanished in the greenery beside the path. Kelly had to spend a minute of searching on her knees in the sand before she located it.

They entered the Academy through the side door. They were in the Reception Room, and Sheila immediately glanced at the wall to their right. She was relieved to see that the stacks of suitcases were still there. As far as she could recall, they looked as they had on the day that she and the other captives had disembarked from the ship. Sheila tried to see if her name was scribbled on one, but few of the markings on the luggage faced the interior of the room. Of those she could see, none looked at all like 'Ericson'.

They passed the long tables where they had filled out the forms, and Kelly opened the door into the Main Lounge.

About twenty people were in the room, most of them in armchairs, conversing. Sheila looked around. Most of the occupants were men, but a few women were also present. She and Kelly passed three elegantly dressed women in armchairs talking and smoking cigarettes which, judging from the scent that filled her nostrils as they passed, were marijuana.

A man and woman were seated on their right, at a table near the bar, half-full glasses before them, while two men were seated at the bar, smoking. A black man was arranging glasses behind the bar.

As the two girls crossed the room, it fell silent. Sheila felt as though the eyes of every occupant in the room were on her.

"A new blue girl!" the woman, who was seated at the table with the man, exclaimed.

"Hardly," the man said. "Look at her clothes, Deirdre. She's in training."

"You there, slave!" the woman called. Sheila glanced behind her. She hoped that the woman was calling another girl, but she was not. The woman pointed directly at her.

"Come here!" the woman repeated.

"What should I do, Kelly?" she asked, hesitating.

"Oh boy, Kiddo!" Kelly said, grimacing. "I don't like this. I guess you'd better go over there; otherwise she'll get pissed. Give me that stuff. I'll wait in the hall for you."

Sheila wanted the blue girl to stay with her, but she supposed Kelly knew best, and she transferred the pile of things into the blue girl's waiting arms. A few moments later Kelly was heading for a door opposite that through which they had entered.

The couple, seated at a table close to the bar, had half-full glasses before them. The woman was blond and buxom, and Sheila guessed she was about forty. The man was tall, with black hair. He looked about the same age as the woman and was very handsome. When Sheila reached the woman, she noticed with a start that the woman's right hand was gripping the man's erect penis, which protruded from his fly under the table. She was masturbating him. His organ looked the size of a large cucumber. It was the largest erect penis that she'd ever seen.

"Y-Yes, Mistress?" Sheila asked, standing before her.

The couple looked up at her and neither said anything for a while. She felt her face grow hot. Obviously neither of them was concerned that she could see the woman's outstretched arm and her hand, under the table, pumping up and down on the shaft rising from the man's lap.

The woman smiled, and she turned to the man.

"Leon," she said, "isn't this the female that Babette was going to buy for you?"

The man nodded. "She was too cheap to match Lindsey's bid."

"Is your name Sheila?" the woman asked.

"Yes, Mistress," Sheila responded. The couple looked amused by her embarrassment.

The woman's hand was incapable of completely encircling the man's member and, periodically, the woman moved her other hand to aid it, and she enclosed the shaft with both hands, her thumbs crossed and her fingers interlaced around it.

"Are you the slave with the blond cunt?" the woman asked.

Sheila flushed, uncertain how to respond. If she replied, 'My pubic hair is blond, if that's what you mean, ' she felt sure that her correction of the woman would anger the woman and draw some punishment.

"Yes, Mistress," she finally said.

"Show it to us," the man said.

Sheila wondered if the man was joking. But, hoping that the woman would rescue her with some counter like, "Oh, don't ask her to do that, Leon, you're embarrassing her!" seemed a futile fantasy here in the Academy.

The two clients waited, amused, obviously expecting her to obey.

Sheila raised the front of her miniskirt, hooked her thumb under the elastic of her thong, and pushed it down, exposing her pubis. She held it, her face hot.

The man curled his forefinger up at her. "Closer," he said.

Sheila approached him, and the man inserted his fingers in the elastic of her thong, at her hips. He rolled it down into a rope and allowed it to slide down. It slithered past her knees and lay about her ankles.

"Raise your skirt higher," he said.

Sheila raised the hem a few inches.

"Higher!"

Sheila drew it to her waist, as far as the short skirt would reach.

The clients seated around them all seemed to be watching.

Oh god, how am I going to get out of this?

The man leaned forward. He reached down for the thong, compelling the blond woman to stop her up-down pumping. She continued to hold it, her fingers half around the shaft.

"Lift up your foot," he said.

She raised her foot and he drew the thong over her shoe. "Now the other."

He tossed the black nylon onto a nearby vacant table, where it lay in a ring beside an ashtray.

"Spread your legs," he said.

He sat back up again. The blond woman started levering her forearm up and down again, pumping the skin beneath the huge head. The rose-purple crest was so big that, when it was pointed directly up at her, Sheila was unable to see the woman's fingers and thumb below it.

"M-Master," Sheila said, hoping to escape, "I-I'm supposed to report to Master Crane."

She woman exclaimed, "Slave, your purpose is to please us! Spread your legs."

Sheila obeyed. She felt the man's fingers on her thighs. They rose toward her genitals, and she shivered.

Fingers pinched her pudenda. She wanted to pull away, but feared that, if she did she would exacerbate things. She ignored her pounding heart, and she feigned unconcern. She stood, legs apart, while the fingers explored her vulva. They touched her everywhere. Fingers entered her vagina, and in spite of her resolve, she shuddered. Soon the fingers moved toward her clitoris. They reached it and began to stroke, round and round.

"Open your blouse," the man said, "Show us your breasts."

"Y-Yes, Master."

Sheila undid its buttons, from the top down. Then she opened it, displaying them.

"Don't they look delicious, Leon?" the woman said. "Do they make your mouth water?"

"They do," he said. "Deirdre, faster." He jerked her wrist, up and down. When he released it, she continued at the faster pace.

Wherever Sheila looked, her eyes met other eyes. She looked down and saw the purplish head of his penis. It looked huge above Deirdre's pumping hand. She wondered how that monster would feel within her. Then she saw Leon's smile. She flushed and looked away.

His hands were on her breasts, his fingers flicking her nipples. When she glanced down at his hands, his fingers gripped them. He pinched, and she felt them grow hard.

"I'm close, Deirdre," he said.

She slowed her pumping hands. "Make her swallow it, Leon."

He turned his chair around, until he faced away from the table.

"On your knees, slave," he said.

Sheila felt her face flush. She went down on her knees before him. The huge organ stood upright before her face, and both of Deirdre's hands were about it, pumping rapidly up and down.

A hand grabbed her hair and it jerked her head, pulling it painfully forward. When she looked up, the purplish head was directly before her eyes. It looked as large as a tangerine.

Sheila was unable to move. She was between his thighs, her bare knees pressed into the carpet. She had lost a shoe and one foot was bare. Her legs were jammed hard against the front of the armchair, and her arms were on each side of his hips, her hands pressed awkwardly into the cushioned back of the chair.

At the end of each upward motion, Deirdre's hands came perilously close to Sheila's nose. She couldn't see much except the blonde's pumping hands and the fat head of his organ. Below them she saw Leon's trousers and open fly and, inside, his pubic hair.

Suddenly, Leon cried, "Aaaah! Aaaaah! Aaaaah! Aaaaah!"

The slit spurted, and a geyser of cream went into her face. Sheila closed her mouth and her eyes.

Sheila felt it on her eyelids and cheeks. She felt another high on her forehead that must have gone into her hair.

When it was over, her face felt as covered as it had that first day, when she and Kelly had visited the E.L. But, this was even worse. So much was on her face that it trickled from her chin.

"She's dripping on your pants, Leon!" she heard Deirdre exclaim.

The hand gripping her hair suddenly pushed, and she lost her balance and fell backward onto the carpet.

"Get out of here!" Leon said.

Sheila drew up the tail of her blouse and wiped her eyelids until she was able to see.

People were smiling at her; some were laughing. All watched as she rose to her feet. Her face hot, she adjusted her skirt. Then, buttoning her blouse, she walked to the far door and exited into the hall.

Kelly was sitting on the carpet near the stairwell. The blue girl looked toward her and exclaimed, "There you are! You took long enough, Kiddo!"

Sheila couldn't reply. She was afraid if she attempted to say a word, she'd burst into tears.

The blue girl stood up as Sheila approached. Kelly pursed her lips and shook her head, looking at her face and up at her hair.

"Some guy really did a job on you! I was kinda afraid something like that might happen. If I'd stayed in the Main Lounge though, it might have got worse. Clients try to get two blue girls, like together, if you get my drift."