A literotic sexstories: Taras Canine Penalty by Fanfiction
by Buck Wellcock
(c) 2007
CHAPTER ONE
“All right, girls, let’s move it! This ain’t no resort.”
Tara Monro pressed her forehead against the icy window of the large, black bus. Through the bars she saw the broad, desolate lawn in front of the Gothic style buildings. The twisted leafless trees bending under the weight of snow and ice, the grey clouds drifting thickly overhead, the dim sunlight growing weaker as the afternoon wore on – it was all out of Currier and Ives.
“Come on … you, the blondie, you think you’re better ‘n the rest?”
The words snapped Tara back to this world. She drew away from the window, shivering both because of the cold in the bus and the despair she felt covering her like a blanket.
It had all been so innocent! How could the authorities have really believed she had anything to do with selling drugs at school? Tara remembered her pleas, her sworn testimony as to having been nothing more than a participant in pot parties. How was she to know Bobbie and the others were pushing Crystal Meth in school? No one seemed to hear her. Even her parents turned away, giving the authorities full power to do what they chose with her.
One year!: One year at this reformatory. The judge had told her she’d been lucky. If she weren’t a kid, she would have been sent to Corona and do time with the older women. His statement wasn’t much of a comfort. Tara had been in a daze since the day of the sentencing. Her friends, family, everyone had abandoned her. For nearly one month the blonde teenager had sat alone in her cell, with only a few female guards and her books for company.
“Hey, are we gonna have trouble with you on the first day?”
Tara lowered her eyes and slid out of the seat. Through that fogged bus window she saw the other girls standing in a small group, guards standing around them, all of them looking into the bus and wondering what was wrong with her.
“I … I’m coming,” she said, walking quickly down the narrow aisle. A tall, pot-bellied guard was standing spread-legged in front of the bus, his holster sagging like his stomach over his belt. Tara glanced up at him as she passed, not liking the way he stared at her. As she passed the young girl felt a hand stray under her winter jacket and squeeze her plump ass-cheeks.
“Nice, nice, good and tight, I bet,” he said thickly.
“OH!”
No one had ever done that to her! The young woman wheeled around, spots of crimson darkening her cheeks. The hand stayed on, her buttocks, working her dress up.
“Leave me alone!” Tara cried, finally snapping from her shock. She reached down, trying to push away the offending hands. The big man was sneering down at her, his breathing becoming laboured. He was dry fucking her now, rubbing his crotch against her pussy while digging his fingers into her ass. Tara couldn’t break free from him!
“Baby, you’re a fighter, ‘n that’s the way I like ’em. We’re gonna have to get together later on,” he said, looking over her head and seeing the others staring at them curiously. “Right now you get the fuck offa this bus.”
Tara breathed a sigh of relief,. barely able to move when she felt the big man’s hands slip away from her ass-cheeks. She straightened her clothes, not daring to look back at that awful man! Shuddering, Tara stepped off the bus, her face stung by a blast of cold wind from the north. The state reform school was filled. Tara and these other girls had been bussed up to this relatively private institution leased in part by the state in an experimental program to lighten the load at the heavily overcrowded prisons. Unfortunately for the girls this school was in Shasta County, up in the mountains, away from most of their family and friends. Tara couldn’t believe she was still in California. The climate was more like that of New England.
“Okay, move it. The headmistress is inside.”
The guards were all so strange! Tara felt they weren’t very professional at all. All of them stared at the girls as if they were pieces of meat ready to be swallowed. They were cold and efficient as she would have expected. But there was something else in their eyes … something that reminded her of the stare of a sewer rat!
The building was straight out of a Victorian horror novel. It must have been built early in the nineteenth century, then added to in the following years. Wings after wings clung to the original structure, giving the interior the appearance of an endless labyrinth. The girls were marched down deserted, poorly lit, polished tile corridors. No one said a word. They were all first offenders. Each young woman’s eyes were round with terror and despair as she marched shoulder to shoulder with the others.
“In here.”
The twenty girls filed into a large room where a tall, black-haired woman of about thirty-seven sat behind a large desk. On either side stood two women—-one blonde, the other a brunette-both about the same age as the headmistress and both standing icy-eyed at attention. Tara looked around for a chair but there was none.
“Very well, girls,” the older woman began, putting down several manila folders and folding her long fingers in front of her. “We all know what you ‘re here for. This is a private reform school. We take on young women who have various problems and try to turn them into responsible members of society.”
Tara looked at the two zombies standing at either side of the desk and wondered if that’s what the woman meant as examples of “responsible members of society.” She feared so.
“My name is Ms. Eugenia Debbs and I’ll be directing your programs. This is something new for us. The state has given this institution a free hand in moulding you. Fortunately,” she added, going through several more folders, “you’re all first offenders. No hardened cases. Good!”
Tara looked briefly around at the group. No, they all looked like cheerleaders, members of high school debating teams. Not a hooker or doper in the crowd … or so it seemed.
“Nadine. You, Sandra and the guards show the young women their rooms. Orientation begins in two hours.”
Eugenia tapped her long fingernails methodically on the glassy surface of her desk, her eyes moving across the sea of young faces in front of her. Suddenly she stopped when she came across Tara. The young blonde shivered when she saw Ms. Debbs’ thin lips curl into a smile.
“You, Miss . . . ”
“Tara Monro,” the girl said, swallowing hard as she felt her heart skip a beat. There was something cold, cruel, sadistic about this woman.
“Yes, Miss Monro,” Eugenia said, fishing through the sea of folders, then smiling more broadly as she found the correct file. “Hmmm, the courts are getting more severe. You really shouldn’t be up here. But then . . . ” the headmistress said, wrinkling up her eyebrows and folding the folder closed once more. “I want you to remain here.”
At a hand signal Sandra and Nadine motioned to the young women to file out. Tara looked over her shoulder, watching the girls disappear. Oh, how she wished she could go with them!
“You don’t belong with the others,” Ms. Debbs said more gently, rising from behind her desk and drawing the heavy green curtains over the window. “But there’s little you can do. Of course,” she said more intimately, moving around to the front of the desk and sliding her firm, rounded buttocks over the top, “there’s always an early out. I can recommend to the board that you leave here in, oh let’s say, several months.”
Tara felt her pulse race with hope. Two months! Maybe less! Oh, what would have to happen for that to pass?
“How?” the young woman asked, her hope quickly fading as she watched Eugenia’s smile grow broader.
“Cooperation,” she said, tapping the desk top more rapidly. She seemed to be growing more nervous. Tara watched as the older woman was almost squirming on the desk, her long tapered legs moving together back and forth as if she were scratching an. itch between them. And that stare! The way Ms. Debbs looked at her made Tara cringe. She lowered her eyes, not daring to ask what kind of cooperation she was expected to give.
“Can … can I go now and unpack?” the young woman asked.
“I said cooperation,” Ms. Debbs repeated dryly, stopping her finger tapping. “But of course you want to unpack and get yourself familiar with the surroundings.”
Eugenia reached around and pressed one of several buttons on one side of her desk. Immediately a guard came in … the guard who had molested her in the bus! Tara flinched, although she didn’t say a word about the brief incident.
“Take this girl to Block B. Give her one hour, then bring her back to this office,” Eugenia said her voice suddenly becoming sharp and crackling.
“Yes, Ms. Debbs,” the guard said, putting one hand on Tara’s shoulder. If he had touched her with a red-hot poker the effect would have been the same. Tara shot from her chair, wheeled around and walked quickly toward the door. Her suitcases stood just outside the headmistress’ office. Picking them up she walked where the guard told her to. Ms. Debbs wasn’t the most charming woman to be with. But at least Tara felt safer with her than with this maniac.
“Turn here.”
Tara did as she was told, finding herself suddenly in a small room.
“What is this?” the girl asked, turning around and staring open-mouthed at the big guard.
The burly man grinned and ran his fingers through the curly mop of his hair. He held his guard cap in one hand, rocking back and forth on his feet while a greasy smile crossed his lips. Tara had been tricked. She could see his eyes were moving up and down her body. Oh God, was he going to try to finish what he started in the bus? Tara felt shivers run up and down her body. But no, she had to remain calm. She couldn’t panic . . . not here!
“She gave us an hour … a whole, goddamned hour. Man, what I can do to you in an hour,” the guard said, closing and locking the door behind him. Tara still held her suitcases as she backed away from the advancing guard. “My name’s Gus. But that ain’t important. Names ain’t important when we start fuckin’.”
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