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Porterville High - Chapter 1.8
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Porterville High
Chapter 1.8
Amy lay on the ground panting for breath, her mind
slowly regaining control over her body. She felt drained;
she stood up on wobbly knees and, leaning back against
the tree, put on her dress. It was all she could do to make
her body obey her commands; she pushed the thoughts of
what she had done, what Achilles had seen her do, to the
back of her mind: she couldn't deal with it right now. She
stood there for some time while her wits and her equilibrium
came back to her, and then began walking home, her mind
purposefully numb.
As she walked, the cool evening air brushed gently
against her, cooling her sweating body and forcing her mind
to the damp spot between her legs. She stumbled and
closed her eyes tight, a moan escaping her lips; she
couldn't have done that, she just couldn't have! She
stopped, her mind working furiously: for the first time in her
life she had an orgasm--okay. It had been fireworks and
earthshaking and bombs bursting; she could accept that,
that was okay, but how and where her body had finally
brought her that pleasure she couldn't accept, and her mind
turned in shame from it.
She started walking again, faster and faster until she
was almost running. She had been stripped, collared, and
gagged. She had been ogled, leashed, and forced to lick
someone's feet. Finally, she had been beaten like a horse
while she straddled a tree. How could that have turned her
on?! How?! She knew, though, deep down she knew as she
ran home as fast as her legs could take her, that it had. She
knew that her lust had grown with each degrading act she
was forced to perform, knew that her punishment, only right
and fitting, had released something inside her, some vestige
of control or desire for control, and freed a part of her that
wanted, that lusted, to be degraded and humiliated and most
importantly, controlled. She choked back tears as she ran
up to her room and threw herself on her bed; it was too
much, too much all at once.
Achilles hustled down to the boiler room, using the
keys Jim had given him, and was disappointed to find no
one there. Oh well, he thought, there was always tomorrow.
Thursday Jim noticed that Amy didn't show up to class,
but Maria was back to her normal biting self, meaner than
ever if that was possible. The day before she had even
stopped by and made several requests for certain items, the
better to torture her teacher with. He thought about Amy
and Achilles again, and thought that boy didn't look like
much, but he certainly had a certain something. Sara was
coming along real well too: she got off on everything he did
to her, no matter how painful and humiliating. He was
hoping Achilles could get Amy to fall in line soon, since he
would love to tear off a piece of that cunt too. Amy and Sara
and Maria all together: those were the stuff of dreams.
Amy knew better than to play sick with Achilles, even if
it worked with her parents. She didn't know what he had
planned, but she dreaded it with a passion, and at the same
time some bizarre quirk in her, some small part in her mind,
anticipated it, wanted it. She was everything bad, this small
part of her self told her: she was a murderess, a bigot,
swollen with pride; not only that, but also a slut, a horny
cunt who came whenever some man beat her. It was only a
small part of her mind which told her these things, but it got
louder and louder as she approached Achilles' house.
She arrived and was met at the door by Achilles, who
immediately led her up to his room and locked the door. He
kept her standing as he sat down on his bed and looked her
over; she shuddered under his gaze, remembering the last
time he had seen her.
"That was quite a show you put on yesterday," his
voice startled her so that she jumped a little. He frowned,
"That's bad. I'm supposed to punish you, not bring you
off." She blushed at his remarks, her pale skin turning a
dark crimson as shame washed through her. She remained
silent.
"Well, we can't have you enjoying your punishment,
can we? Can we!" he shouted."N... n... no," she stuttered,
her head down, her arms straight and crossed before her.He
leaned back, "So tell me, what part of your punishment did
you enjoy?"
She looked at him for the first time since she had
arrived, anger and desperation suffusing her body, "None!"
she shouted, "I hated it all; it was horrible, just horrible," she
finished, her emotion subsiding to an almost pleading desire
for belief.
Achilles smiled mockingly, "Well, for someone who
hated every moment of what happened to her, you gave a
good impression of fucking a tree to orgasm." Then he
noticed that she was crying silently, standing before him
dressed in a summer dress and looking so much like a little
girl. Standing, he went over to her and reached under her
chin, lifting her face up until he was looking directly into her
eyes.
"You did hate it, didn't you," he said softly.
"Y... yes," was whispered.
"But you came too; I know you did."
"Yes."
"You hated coming; you hated feeling like that. I'm
right, aren't I?"
"Yes."
"Why?" A simple question.
Sobbing silently now, she broke away from him and sat
down hard onto the floor. "I'm so bad," she choked out. "I...
I deserved everything you did to me. It felt so good. It's evil.
Horrible. I... I'm no good... for anything... like a whore. I don't
wanna be who I am." She started sobbing for real now, her
face buried in her hands.
Achilles watched her for a moment, pity warring with
elation in his mind. He was surprised at how quickly she
had broken, but then again he had been surprised that she
had orgasmed the other day. Now was the time to build her
back up, to build her back up into the person he wanted her
to be. Careful, he thought to himself, careful or the old
personality will reassert itself. I must incorporate that
personality, he thought, must allow it free reign somewhere.
Thinking furiously, he knelt down beside her and held her,
soothing her the same way he would a small child, cooing to
her "my little princess" over and over again.
Then her sobbing had abated somewhat he lifted her
chin again until he looking into her big, beautiful blue eyes,
glistening with tears, and spoke to her in short, comforting
sentences, telling her she didn't have to be bad, telling her
he could help her, that he loved her and wanted what was
best for her. The problem, he suggested, watching carefully
for her reactions, was that she had no structure in her life;
he could change that. She would have to trust him. He
would take everything bad about her, her pride, her lust, her
fear, and wall it away from her, keep her safe from it. Only he
would have to see her like that, and he would control her
then, if she only let him. He could handle it; only trust him.
Trust him.
He talked for over an hour like that to her, calm and
reassuring. He was right, she knew: she couldn't trust
herself anymore; she could trust him, though: he loved her.
To be like she was, calm, confident, sure of herself--how she
wished she could be like that again. She could, he was
telling her. She could be her old self, without all that had
corrupted her, made her filth. She was two different people,
she understood, Amy Sanders--the good, strong, woman
who was going to college and was going to be a
success--and someone else, someone who associated with
murders and covered up her crimes and was swollen with
pride and arrogance and was a slut who couldn't control her
own body. She understood what he was saying: to the
outside world she could be Amy Sanders, but to him she
would release the dark side of herself so that it couldn't get
out and contaminate her, and he would punish that dark
side of her. Yes, she wanted that; she did, she really, really
did.
"Do it," she said, "help me."
Hearing the magic words, Achilles stood up and walked
in front of his bed and said, "Stand up. You understand
what you have to do, Amy? I will be like your confessor:
everything bad that you do or think I will punish, every
twinge of lust I will expiate, but you must bring them all to
me. You must not hide them away like you did before or they
will destroy you like they almost did before. Do you
understand?"
"Yes," she said, relief at this release of her burden
invigorating her, and she felt a surge of happiness for the
first time in days.
"Okay then, in order to do this correctly, we have to
make some rules, yes?"
Yes."
"You have to obey everything I tell you to do without
question. Understand?"
"Yes."
"And when you're with me your name will be Princess.
Tell me your name."
"Princess."
"You will call me master at all times. Now, what is your
name."
"Princess, master."
"That's enough for now; let's begin."
"Yes master."
His cock was already as hard as a rock as he walked
slowly around her like a disapproving drill sergeant. Amy
Sanders was finally and truly his! All his to do whatever he
wanted to, and he knew what he was going to do to her
today--thank god his parents were out of the house until
seven tonight.
Amy's heart fluttered as Achilles walked around her,
looking her up and down. She felt freed in some bizarre
way; now she didn't have to be in control. Later she would
be, but now all she had to do was whatever Achilles, her
master, told her too. It was liberating, because she no
longer had to be afraid of what she would do--her master
would take care of it. It would all come out, she knew, her
uncontrollable id which so recently had taken over her life,
would come out to be punished and mastered, and then to
retreat so that she could live a normal life until she needed
her master to tame it again, to tame her, to tame Princess.
He would let Princess out and keep her away from her, Amy
Sanders. No, she thought, I am Princess, and she felt a
tingling in her groin at the thought, and she squeezed her
thighs together. I'm bad, she thought, I'm bad and need to
be punished. Punish me, master, punish Princess she
thought.
He came back around until his face was inches from
her, and he barked out, "Strip." Her gaze locked by his, she
did what he commanded, baring her young, firm, nubile
body to him. He stepped back and looked at her, at her
strong nose dominating her face, her kinky blond hair falling
past her shoulders, her firm, perky breasts with their
perfectly proportioned nipples, her slender waist and almost
skinny but perfectly formed legs, her blond curling pubic
hairs and her dull, thin lips. All his, he thought, feeling his
cock throb in his pants.
"I saw you fuck that tree yesterday, Princess, you slut,"
he growled out. "I've never seen anyone fuck a tree before.
Did you like it Princess? Did you like fucking that tree."
Yes master."
"You know what that make you, don't you cunt? It
makes you a fucking worthless slut!"
"Yes master," she said with her chin trembling.
"Say it!"
"I'm a fucking worthless slut, master."
"Spread your legs, Princess."
She obeyed him, feeling dirty and slutty and worthless,
spreading her legs until she was standing with her feet three
feet apart. It made her feel exposed, standing naked before
him with her legs spread like this, but that excited her,
excited Princess. Amy Sanders would never do this, she
thought, Amy is such a good girl. She trembled inside with
pleasure. She felt his hands, her master's hands, against her
shoulders as he gripped them firmly, sending an electric
thrill through her body. She felt her vaginal--her cunt--lips
begin to swell and moisture begin to form between her legs.
He was making Princess hot, staring into her eyes and
holding her by the shoulders and she almost whimpered in
desire as she stood there. She was so bad.
She felt his hands jerk her toward him an instant before
blinding pain flashed through her groin as his knee jerked
viscously into her cunt. She doubled over, all feelings of
sexual excitement fleeing, and dropped her hands to protect
her throbbing sex.
Still holding onto her shoulders, she heard her master
say, "You deserved that, didn't you, you dirty cunt?"
"Y... yes master," she whined, pain taking her breath
away. And she knew that she did deserve it. All dirty sluts
deserved to be treated like the pieces of meat they were, and
they shouldn't forget it.
His hands forced her to her knees and she landed with
a thump, her groin still in agony over his unexpected blow.
"My little Princess wanted to be fucked, just like the slut she
is, but I don't think you deserve to be fucked, do you slut?"
"No master." The pain was finally abating somewhat,
although her whole groin throbbed as if bruised. She
groaned as she straightened up onto her knees and saw
that her master was removing his clothes. She watched in
fascination as he undressed: he didn't look like much, she
thought, until he removed his underwear, when she saw the
largest cock she had ever seen.
Achilles smiled when he saw her eyes widen at the
sight of his penis. "Do you want to touch my cock,
Princess?"
She was fascinated by it; Amy Sanders had never seen
a penis that size: it was at least two inches longer and an
inch thicker than any penis Amy had seen. Princess licked
her lips--poor Amy, she wasn't going to get any of her
master's cock. "Yes master," she said, not taking her eyes
off his cock, "Princess wants to touch your cock."
"Does Princess want to suck my cock?"
She was taken aback for a second; it was so large, and
she had never done it before--at least Amy hadn't. But Amy
wasn't a filthy whore like Princess was, and Princess found
herself salivating at the chance to put that enormous cock in
her mouth. "Yes master," she hissed, "let me suck your
cock."
"Crawl over here and beg," he said sitting down onto
the edge of the bed.
She crawled over between his legs, her breasts
swinging heavily beneath her, her groin throbbing now more
with excitement than pain. "Please master, let me suck your
beautiful cock. I want it so bad. Princess is a worthless dirty
slut and wants her master's cock in her mouth. Please
master, let me suck your cock."
His wildest fantasies had come true: here was Amy
Sanders, on her hands and knees, naked, and begging to
blow him. He grabbed her head and forced it against his
cock, sighing in pleasure as she wrapped her lips around
his dick and began to suck him.
He felt so large in her mouth, she thought as she
sucked his cock into the warm, wet confines of her oral
cavity--salty, too. It felt good, too, to be on her knees with
her master's cock in her mouth; a slut like her should have a
cock in her mouth at all times. As she sucked, gripping the
shaft, she thought of it in her cunt, reaming her out,
stretching her wide, and she felt a thin trail of moisture drip
down the inside of her thigh. She squeezed her thighs
together, pleasure beginning to consume her body, and
thought of even fouler pleasures: what if he put his cock in
her ass? A slut like her, like Princess, would love a big cock
in her ass. She gasped out around the prick in her mouth as
a small orgasm blossomed in her cunt. Amy Sanders would
never get fucked in the ass.
Achilles sat back and enjoyed every minute of the blow
job he was getting from his dream girl. He moaned as she
sucked her cheeks in to massage his dick as she bobbed
her head up and down while running her hand along his
shaft and down to his balls. Her tongue scraped along the
bottom of his cock, the tip occasionally teasing her vein just
under the circumcised head. He would have to teach her to
deep throat, he thought as he felt the pressure begin to build
up in his balls, but for now she's doing fine. It was even
better that she was getting into it so much; he could have
sworn she had an orgasm just a minute ago.
She felt his cock begin to expand and his hands grip
the back of her head, forcing more of his dick into her
mouth. He was going to come, Princess thought, he was
going to shoot his come into her mouth--she trembled in
pleasure, sucking harder and running her fingers under his
balls to press hard against the soft flesh there.
Achilles bellowed as he felt her fingers press against
the soft skin between his anus and his balls, and he shot
wad after wad of come into her willing, sucking mouth,
gasping in pleasure as she continued to work his sensitive
knob.
Princess felt his come splatter against her throat and
she swallowed greedily, sucking down each blast of his
come and luxuriating in the feel if it sliding slickly down her
throat. She was such a slut, such a whore, she thought, to
be doing this, and felt another small orgasm shake her as
she squeezed her thighs together once more. She kept
sucking on his cock until he became flaccid and pushed her
head away. She looked up at him expectantly: she was a
good slut, wasn't she?
Achilles looked in amazement down at the doglike
expectancy on Amy's face as she gazed up at him, her
mouth slightly open in what was unmistakably excitement.
He had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams with her.
"You've been a good bitch, you have," he said, patting her
on the head. "You deserve a reward. Get up on the bed."
She eagerly obeyed and laid on her side watching him
as he went over to his closet and took down a large box,
rummaged through it, and pulled out a large dildo--it was
even larger than his cock, she saw, amazed. It must have
been twelve inches long and two thick, she thought,
growing excited at the mere thought of taking that up her
twat.
"Here you go, Princess, play with this while I take
some pictures." She grabbed it eagerly as it landed on the
bed and rolled onto her back, spreading her legs and
running the enormous dildo against her swollen labia,
moaning and gasping in pleasure as she teased herself to
further arousal.
Achilles pulled out his camera and began taking
pictures--he didn't want to forget this, his first night with
Amy Sanders. Besides, she was so sexy like that, in the
throws of passion.
Princess could hear the sound of her master's camera
as she spread her labia with one hand and eased the
monster dildo in with the other, but it just excited her more;
she was going to be on film; he could show any of his
friends how nasty and sluttish she was. Yes, she thought as
she slid the dildo into her gaping cunt until it bumped
against her cervix, leaving a full three inches outside her
snatch. She moved her free hand and began playing with
her clit as she slowly worked the dildo around in her cunt,
pleasure assaulting every nerve in her body. She began to
writhe and moan as the sensations built, punctuated each
time she slammed the dildo hard against her cervix, sending
pleasure cascading up her spine. She could feel a
tremendous orgasm build within her guts, and she mashed
down on her clitoris, trying to bring it now, now--so close.
Rough hands grabbed the dildo from her and ripped it
from her cunt and knocked her other hand away from her
clitoris. Her body jackknifed up in unfulfilled lust and she
screamed "NOOOO!!!" trying to bring her hands back to her
clitoris, trying to achieve the most incredible orgasm she
had ever had which was just a touch away. A sharp slap
shocked her out of her sexual frenzy as her head was
knocked back onto the bed and to one side, stunning her
and sending her orgasm fleeing. She moaned in sexual
torment, wanting, needing, any release now. Another slap
knocked her completely back to her senses--god, she was
so hot, needed it so badly, but now she was looking into the
eyes of her angry master, partially obscured by her kinky
blond hair which had flown wildly about her head.
"What did you say to me cunt?" he growled angrily,
leaning over her and holding her down on the bed by her
shoulders.
"P... please... master..."
"What did you say to me?" He made his voice even
angrier.
"... no... master."
"YOU DON'T EVER SPEAK BACK TO ME AGAIN, YOU
STUPID CUNT!" he screamed, jerking her off the bed by her
head and dragging her to the foot of it.
"Please master, please," she begged, scared now as he
threw her onto her knees so that she was bent over the end
of the bed, her ass in the air. He placed one hand against
her neck, forcing her head into the mattress, and grabbed a
large paddle with the other.
WHACK! She screamed as he brought the paddle
down as hard as he could against the back of he thighs.
WHACK! She screamed again as the paddle struck her
ass cheeks with tremendous force.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Again
and again he brought the paddle down against her ass and
her thighs until they were a deep red from the beating and
she was sobbing into the mattress. He released her for a
minute and returned, spreading her asscheeks, bringing a
loud sob from her throat.
She was miserable; her ass and thighs were a mass of
fiery, throbbing pain. She should never had talked back to
her master, but she had been so close, so close and he had
taken it away from her. She still felt, even after the beating,
and aching emptiness in her cunt, a yearning for an orgasm.
What was he doing? She felt a coolness around her anus as
he smeared grease over her sphincter. He was going to
fuck her in the ass! The thought drove some of the pain
away. He beat her and then he was going to shove his fat
cock up her ass--it was so perverse, so dirty, so nasty, she
felt her cunt twitch and the pain in her ass and thighs burn
hotter.
She felt the head of his cock press against her anus as
his fingers roughly dug into her throbbing asscheeks. It felt
like she was taking the biggest shit of her life, but it didn't
hurt thanks to the copious amount of grease he had used.
She felt it slide slowly in, every single inch, filling up her guts
until she thought she was going to explode. It felt so
strange having a cock up her ass, so filling.
Achilles grunted as he popped his cock through her
tiny brown sphincter, watching intently as he slid it slowly
into her guts. Damn she had a tight ass, he thought, as he
bottomed out, his hips pressing against her spread ass
cheeks. He leaned over her until he could whisper in her
ear, and began whispering that she loved having a cock in
her ass, what a slut, what a whore, that she was no better
than a piece of fucking meat to take his cock wherever he
wanted to put it, that she was a worthless slut to get off on
this, and more. He slowly pulled his hips back until only the
head of his cock was still in her ass, and then pounded
forward.
The things he was whispering to her, oh god, she
thought, sliding her hand down to her clitoris and mashing it
between her fingers; it was so hot, so good. Her mouth
opened into an O of surprise and pleasure as she felt his
cock slowly slide out from her ass, feeling like it was
dragging her guts with it. It felt so strangely good. She
imagined Amy getting used like she was, and that excited
her more: goody-two-shoes Amy getting beaten and fucked
like some piece of meat--she grunted in passion.
Achilles slammed his cock in and out of Amy's tiny
asshole, reveling in the sensations assaulting his penis. It
was so tight and clinging, and he was still turned on from his
paddling of her. God, he thought, Amy Sanders, letting me
pound her ass then letting me fuck her up the bum, and
loving every minute of it. He felt, deep in his groin, the
beginning tingle of what he knew was going to be a
tremendous orgasm.
Princess was practically out of her mind now. The twin
pleasures, so different, from his cock in her ass and her
fingers on her clit were driving her wild. She grunted in time
with his viscous thrusts and drool spilled from her gaping
mouth. Her whole body felt like it was on fire; even her
breasts which were being rubbed achingly back and forth
against the bed as her body jerked to her master's thrusts.
She had begun trembling she didn't know when, the
pleasure so overwhelming, but she drove her fingers harder
against her clit, knowing that with a little more, just a little
more, she could go even higher.
It started in her ass as her master drove his tool deep
into her guts. It felt as if a cool wave of pleasure washed
over her body, causing her to jerk convulsively and jam her
nails hard into her clit, sending shooting sparks of pleasure
flashing through her overworked nerves. She felt these two
pleasures build into a crescendo, becoming more and more
intense, making her body rigid in anticipation, then sending
it into wildly jerking spasms as the most incredible orgasm
literally burst through her ass and groin, sending her wailing
and thrashing under her master.
Achilles felt her ass spasm around his cock and felt the
pressure in his own groin reach a breaking point: any
minute now, he thought, moaning at the intense pleasure.
He grabbed onto her hair as he felt her body begin to jerk
beneath him, and groaned as her ass began sucking at his
cock. He held on for dear life, hands tight around her skull,
cock buried to its limit in her ass, as her body became a
bucking bronco beneath him and her ass a sucking,
grasping, greedy orifice, trying to devour him. His yell
matched hers as his cock spat out its come deep into her
bowels, filling her with his seed. He held on, overwhelmed
with pleasure as her ass kept squeezing and milking his
cock while her body trembled and jerked beneath him.
He lay on top of her for a full minute until her trembling
subsided and he could work up enough energy to move.
Slowly he pushed himself off of her and winced as his
sensitive cock popped from her ass. "Okay, Princess, get
dressed and go home. I want to see you in the orange grove
tomorrow, though. Don't disappoint me." With that, he
staggered into the bathroom and splashed some water on
his face.
Princess lay there, her senses reeling from her orgasm,
and listened to what her master said. No, she thought
dizzily, she wouldn't disappoint him. She got up and quickly
dressed, giggling as she left her master's house: wouldn't
Amy be pissed when she found that she'd have to clean up
after her. All that yummy come leaking out of her asshole
right now and running down the back of her thighs--poor
little Amy. She giggled again as she thought about it.
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