Chapter 24: Detention

Marie made it back into the classroom before second bell, and flushed with embarrassment as she was made to grab her ankles and have the plug removed in front of the whole class. Her "hall pass" was disassembled and the intruding part was dropped into a special bin for cleaning.

Marie sat down, still feeling stretched, and thought dreamily about Angelica and the orderly while the teacher demonstrated corset lacing techniques on the front-row students. Time passed quickly, and soon the school day was over. The girls all stood up and headed for the door, gossipping and chattering.

"Hey girl, you got time to hit the arcade?" Kusako bounced on her toes.

Marie looked over at the teacher and frowned, "No, sorry. I'd love to, but I have an hour of detention first."

Kusako glanced at the schoolmarm nervously from the corner of her eye, "Oh you poor dear. Well, I'll wait for you outside in one hour. Deal?"

Marie smiled, "I'll see you outside."

Kusako grabbed Marie in a bear-hug, squeezing her tightly enough that both girls' nipple jewelry could be felt through the material of their shirts. She kissed Marie sweetly on the lips, flicked Marie's septum ring playfully with her tongue, and skipped out of the room.

Marie sighed and looked over at the smirking teacher who sat arrogantly on her oak desk. The woman's legs were crossed, and she idly tapped a metal-edged ruler against the palm of her hand. Melody was already kneeling beside her in a position that Marie remembered seeing in her textbook: knees at 90 degrees, hands grasping elbows behind her back, and her chin to her chest. Gulping quietly, Marie rushed to kneel beside the chastised bully.

"Slaves Marie and Melody, you have each earned one hour's detention for engaging in unauthorized pleasuring ... Slave Melody!"

"Yes ma'am!" Melody blurted in startled reply.

"Slave Melody, since your pussy is so hungry for stimulation, you will spend your hour on the doghouse!" The teacher slapped her palm with the ruler for emphasis.

Melody looked up suddenly in horror, but caught the schoolmarm's glare and quickly averted her eyes back down to the woman's shoes.

"Slave Marie!" the teacher barked.

"Y-yes ma'am?"

"Slave Marie, since your tongue is so eager to explore, you will spend your hour exercising it for me. Both of you! On your feet!"

Marie reached to the floor to help herself to her feet, but saw that Melody had risen in a single fluid motion without letting go of her elbows. The teacher waved her over to a closet door in the corner of the room and began to unfold a black latex garment on the desk.

Marie stood watching as she saw what looked like a hood built into a pair of hotpants. No explanation was given, however, as the teacher pulled off Marie's wig and began to unroll the slick sheath around her head. Blackness engulfed her, and she held her breath until she felt air through the mass of rubber at her lips.

When her eyes found their holes, Marie noticed that Melody had removed her shoes and was kneeling in front of what looked like a doghouse on a wheeled platform. Two stirrups with ratcheting cuffs hung from the eaves of the gabled roof, and a pair of hinged handcuffs dangled from a chain in the back.

Satisfied that the hood was seated, its peculiar mass of dangling rubber giving Marie a strange walrus look, the teacher ordered Melody to begin. The quivering schoolgirl rose to her feet and reached over to the doghouse, slipping one latex-clad foot into a stirrup before slowly straddling the gabled peak. Reaching to either side, Melody ratcheted the cuffs closed around her ankles, toes barely touching the supporting straps. Leaning back with an audible grimace, she grabbed the handcuffs and squeezed them closed on her own wrists, shifting forward again until her arms pulled back diagonally.

Marie was so entranced, watching the girl who had bullied her submit so passively, that she did not notice the hinged cuffs being snapped around her own wrists until the teacher wrenched her wrists up to double-lock them.

"Soon, Slave! But first we must start the clock!"

With that, the teacher held up a large brass alarm clock on a chain. Strutting over to Melody, she unbuttoned the girl's blouse and teased out her breasts, the pierced nipples erect. The woman let the clock hang from the thin chain, revealing that it split into a "Y" shape ending in two clover clamps.

Melody squealed in her throat as the clamps were attached behind her piercings, and the clock allowed to dangle its weight from her nipples. She immediately rocked forward until the weight of the clock was at least partially resting on the peak of the doghouse roof, but the clamps clearly still held her attention.

Marie once more lost track of her teacher, awakened by the snap of a ruler against her thigh. Spinning around, she saw that the woman had peeled her pencil skirt up over her hips somehow, and was gesturing for Marie to kneel.

Obediently, Marie lowered herself to her knees on the hard floor, and was surprised to see the teacher pulling open the drooping part of her hood and climbing in. A little lubing and wriggling later, and Marie found herself unavoidably buried in the schoolmarm's snatch.

Struggling a little in surprise, Marie felt the latex skirt roll back down over the woman's thighs, darkening her world and holding her tighter. The snaps at the back were unfastened to loosen the skirt, but it still clung fast as the teacher sat back onto the edge of her seat.

After a little shifting, Marie quickly realized that she was running out of air. Struggling in panic, she pushed her face forward and felt a rewarding puff against her lips. Experimenting, she reached out with her tongue and found that if she pressed against the membrane before her, it would spread the slits around the mouthpiece of her hood.

Feeling an approving pat on her head, Marie groaned with the realization that she was going to have to reach out her tongue and eat this woman out for the better part of an hour if she wanted to breathe. Wincing in her world of rubber womanhood, she set to licking.

"I expect an orgasm at least every ten minutes," Marie heard muffled through the material of the skirt, "so you'd better get to work."

She did so. She soon found herself gulping short, shallow breaths as she shoved her tongue into the woman, pulled back with her hood, then snapped her head forward to mash her lips into her teacher with a quick exhalation. She was light headed, losing track of time, and nearly lost it when she felt the thighs on either side of her head squeeze together.

The dignified keening noise outside her rubber cave told her that she was close to bringing the woman off, and with her head held firmly she was not going to be able to open the air slits again. Furiously she worked her tongue against the teacher's clitoris, flicking and tracing circles and gasping in the rubber sheath around it.

As the darkness became lit with stars and flares, the legs finally slumped to either side of her and the teacher relaxed in the afterglow. Her senses returning, Marie could hear moaning from Melody's direction, the alarm clock clunking against something wooden. Marie had little to occupy herself, so she tried to imagine what Melody was going through.

The clock, obviously, would cause her to lean forward as far as possible to relieve her nipples. But doing so would put strain on the shoulders. As Marie thought, she realized that it would also probably put weight on her clitoris, which would become quite painful over time. At some point it would be worthwhile to endure sore nipples to relieve her nub, and then after a while her anus and nipples would need relief.

Marie imagined the situation as vividly as she could, trying to determine what the best way to sit would be. But all the solutions she came up with involved having her ankles free so that she could use her knees to support herself.

After a long period of musing, her short breath hissing through the rubber mask as she licked and kissed the latex-clad pussy, the absurdity of the situation hit her. Here she was, her jaw and tongue aching, her head swimming from lack of oxygen, suffering a relatively mild punishment, and she was imagining herself away to a worse fate. She shook her head within the confines of the teacher's leg-vise, and felt the woman shudder and clamp down again.

As the air cut off, and the sparkling lights flashed before her eyes again, Marie realized that the image of herself mounted on the doghouse was not simply an idle possibility. It was a matter of time, a question of "when" rather than "if". One of these days she'd be up there, a triangle of wood pressing against her slit and creating increasing levels of pain.

The stars cleared, the woman slumped, and Marie began gasping in short gusts of breath. Her invisible world reeled and spun. The hood grew hot with embarrassed flush as Marie realized that she was trickling between her own legs. Still her ordeal continued.

She heard sounds, squeaking, pulleys, moans. She heard footsteps on wood, footsteps on stone. Suddenly her hood was ripped off and she found herself straddling a wooden doghouse, her cuffs anchored to its roof, her ankles cuffed toward the ground and pulled taut like tent cables. Each motion was met with opposing tension as her struggles worked a giant frame about her that powered electric fields pin-prickling every inch of skin she had. She rocked slowly to even the pressure between her legs as her tongue worked in and out of her mouth to lick as much air as she was allowed from the surrounding courtyard.

Nobles milled about, looking at displays of slavery and punishment arranged in a circle. Women pulled like taffy and skewered like marshmallows. Each one stuffed, whipped, pinched, fucked, and suffocated. Marie watched them all, aroused beyond description by the cacophony of punishment.

The whip of time lashed forward, lurching the world to the crucial moment. Marie bucked and rode her wooden horse and called out a name in a language she had never heard. Before her stood a tall woman in imperially high boots, lush cape, strict corset, and fearsome mask. Marie saw that she was looking her Mistress right in the bottomless black depths of her eyes. She wanted to be swallowed up by them, knowing that to dissolve in that love would be more exquisitely painful than any punishment, and worth every scream.

Do you serve me, slave?

"Oh yes, Mistress!" Marie moaned, her voice far away and muffled.

Your devotion, your obedience, your submission ... they give me strength. The further you submit, the stronger I am to you. You are almost ready to meet me, and when you do you will be prepared to lay down your life at my feet.

Marie kept tongue-lashing the thin air before her face, the mask warping before her as her Mistress's words splashed into her like surf on dry sand.

You have a while yet before you will be ready, however. But already you summon me to punish you. You are such a good slave, little one. You were born to the role!

And now, your reward...