Carla kept thinking there would be some way she could intervene. Perhaps she would convince Mike to use her and not her daughter for his games.
She had conveniently forgotten, however, the sullen, beaten looks of the few girls she had seen at the school. Their uniforms were neatly pressed and they were well-dressed, she remembered. But there wasn't the joy, the exuberance one would expect from girls their age.
"I know what I wanted. But now I'm not so sure," Carla said hesitantly, watching as her daughter moved in front of her. She was so young, no matter how well her body was developed. That was why she had sent her here. All the boys were staring at her, calling her. It was only a matter of time before someone "tried" something with Krystal. Perhaps strict schooling for some time would give her the sense of discipline she never had as a child. Discipline, yes. But this?
"I might as well go in. I – oh, who's that? He's handsome!" Krystal cooed.
It was Mike coming from the building. Inside, Carla could hear a school bell clanging. She looked up at the stud, seeing in his eyes the glow of a mocking triumph. She remembered the bite of his leather, the crush of his foot, the sneering, the laughter, the fucking! It all came back to her in a rush, and Carla nearly grabbed her daughter and threw her back in the car. Only that warning glance from Mike prevented her from doing anything.
"So, this is Krystal," he said, eyeing her mother. "She's just like you, Mrs. Henniger. You two could be sisters."
Carla knew they could. More than once the two had been mistaken for sisters. Krystal was five-three, slender, with long, strong legs she had developed through swimming at the local country club pool. Her whitish blonde hair fell in lustrous strands around her narrow shoulders while her firm, young tits jutted invitingly upward from her chest. Her boyish waist, the jaunty way she walked, the way she carried her head – everything spoke of a young girl about to become a young woman. Carla trembled for her daughter, knowing the girl would be in Mike's hands. But what could she do?
"Come with me, Krystal. I want to show you around here for a moment. Your mother'll come in to say good-bye in a while."
Krystal looked over her shoulder, shrugging, then following him in, dragging her two suitcases behind her.
"You can leave them in there." Mike said. "Mrs. Evans, will you take them to Krystal Henniger's room?"
A tall, severe-looking woman nodded sharply, eyeing the teen and making her feel uncomfortable for the first time since she had arrived in front of this place.
"We pride ourselves on discipline," Mike began, leading her down a corridor. There were small groups of girls walking quickly together, their heads bent down. Krystal frowned, looking at then, wondering why they wouldn't look up at her. Most girls she knew would be dying of curiosity to see who the new person in school was. Krystal hesitated in her step, wishing she could go back, pick up her bats from that old witch in the office, and rush back to her mother's car.
"We have a full academic program here, of course. All the girls are schooled to pass the state's exams. But above all things, Krystal, discipline."
He stopped in front of a door. The glass window had been frosted, making it impossible for her to peer inside.
"Let's go in. We have to get you your… uniform."
Before she could say a word, Krystal found herself thrust into the small room, the door slammed shut behind her and locked. She found herself alone in the tiny area, bare except for a single chair. Wheeling about, she reached don and rattled the doorknob. Locked! Locked in! She drew her hands to her lips, trembling. The room was cold, making her flesh pucker into goosepimples. She remembered now the fear in her mother's eyes, the sense of regret in her voice. Her mother had known something was wrong here, something bad was happening. And yet she let her enter this building! What was going on?
Minutes passed. Sitting on the chair, not daring to make a sound, Krystal tried to compose herself. She had to remain calm. Perhaps all her foreboding thoughts were silly. They did things differently here, that was all. In time she would get used to it. Besides, nothing lasts forever. She would be out of here soon, no matter what.
Footsteps! She stood up from the chair, composing herself once more as the door opened. Mike was back with another woman.
"This is Linda," he said with a nod.
Krystal acknowledged the pretty dark-haired older woman.
"She'll be handling you for a while until I return."
Mike left the room again. It was then Krystal really looked at Linda – a tall, attractive woman who moved with assurance and strength.
"Mike thought you might be a little shy at this for the first time. Undress now and leave your things on the chair. You won't be needing them, so I'll take care of them for you."
"Wh-wh-what?"
Krystal shook her head, not believing she had heard the order correctly. Undress? What kind of place was this? She had carefully chosen her wool outfit this morning, feeling she would wow the girls at school. And now this worn was telling her to undress?
"I said, take off your clothes. Don't disobey me, young lady, or you'll have a bad time paying for it!" she snapped.
Krystal flushed. She didn't simply undress for anyone.
Linda grew tired of her hesitation, and smacked her sharply across the face, backhanding the teen quickly. Krystal didn't have time even to cry out, so unexpected was the attack. She staggered to one side, jerking up a hand to protect her cheeks. How they burned from the attack! Krystal felt tears of pain and indignation welling up in her eyes.
"Don't… don't touch me like that!"
"Then you'll do as I say. There's more where that came from if you don't hurry," Linda threatened.
Krystal blinked back the tears, fumbling as she began stripping herself.
"That's better," Linda said with satisfaction. Krystal still hesitated with her bra and panties, taking a long time draping her blouse and skirt neatly over the chair. "Everything," Linda said, indicating her panties and bra with a sweeping gesture. Krystal reddened even more, pulling down her briefs, feeling terribly exposed while Linda smirked at her growing discomfort.
CHAPTER SIX
"I don't see why you're so worded about showing yourself off, Krystal," she said, taking the bra and panties and laying them carefully on the chair.
Krystal was humiliated, standing there, cupping her hands over her pussy mound.
"You've got a fine body… nearly as fine as mine. I'm glad you're that well-endowed," Linda said. "It'll make things a little easier for you here."
"Easier?"
"You'll find out. Now, please turn and put your hands behind your back."
Krystal obeyed, her bare feet starting to ache from having stood on the concrete floor for so long. She did as she was told. When she turned around she saw Linda had produced a fourteen inch length of cord.
With experienced fingers, Linda looped the line around Krystal's wrists and bound them firmly together. The girl gasped, her eyes widening as she bent over and tried to move her hands apart. What was going on? Again, she asked that question, trying to pull her wrists from one another. They were tying her up. For what reasons? She wasn't a prisoner! Her mother would see her in this condition and demand she be released. There had to be some horrible mistake.
"Now, you'll come with me."
Krystal had known discomfort and embarrassment before. But nothing like this!