School of Torture - an Eastminster Spin Off

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 1 - Georgie's Arrival

The helicopter landed. Georgie, who had been in handcuffs and leg irons the entire time, was lifted by two muscular men and carried out of the helicopter. It was cold. Very cold. The Scottish Isles, after all. In the fog, Georgie saw the battlements of a castle... then it was into a dark corridor; it got a little warmer.

She came into a cellar with many round arches, all of which were barred. A real dungeon. One of the men took out a rusty keyring and unlocked one of the iron gates. Then Georgie was shoved inside. The leg irons made her fall. The gate slammed shut behind her. Darkness spread over her, and full of exhaustion, she fell asleep on the stone floor.

The next morning, she was awakened by voices. "This one is brand new - just flown in from Eastminster. She might be something for you." Georgie recognized the voice of her "patron," who had "invited" her to this "school." She looked around. A stone dungeon. In one corner lay a mattress she hadn't seen in the dark. Bad luck, she thought to herself, as a key began to turn in the lock.

"New is good. My friends will like that." A younger voice. The gate opened, and two male figures came in. "But she needs to be washed first," said the smaller of the two. Georgie, lying on the floor, looked up at them.

"Stand up, let's have a look at you," the boy demanded. He was around fifteen. Georgie stood up - she was still wearing the Eastminster scholarship uniform. "I can't really judge her like this. Don't want to embarrass myself!" said the boy. The man undid her shackles. "Get undressed!" he ordered her. She had learned to obey by now. She stood naked before the two of them. Probably father and son, she guessed.

The boy felt her breasts. "Nice and firm. But quite a lot of marks. You've been very naughty again, haven't you!" he said, laughing to his father. "Maybe we should let her heal first. Do you have anything that looks less battered?" "Sure, come with me," replied the father. They left the dungeon; the gate slammed shut behind them. Georgie was alone again.

She heard loud men's voices in the distance, screams from women or girls, then silence.

She didn't know how much time had passed when her dungeon gate opened again. A somewhat chubby woman, about fifty years old, in a green overall - she looked like a surgical nurse - came in, though with difficulty - the gate was a bit narrow for her.

"Hello, little Georgie. I'm Nurse Fenella. I'm in charge of the infirmary here. And it's plain to see that's where you belong. Please come with me, we'll patch you up, my dear!"

Georgie followed her down a corridor that led past barred dungeon doors. Then up a flight of stairs, and she found herself in a castle courtyard. It was cold - she was naked. The sun was shining but had little strength. Georgie shivered. Nurse Fenella put a blanket around her - and her arm. Georgie nestled gratefully against her.

Another staircase, then a long corridor, then Georgie was led into a friendly-looking hospital room. There were four beds in it, only two were occupied, by a girl about Georgie's age and a boy who was probably about a year younger than her.

"Here's your bed. Get some rest! You've earned it. Welcome to Thanatos School - we'll get you back on your feet!"

Nurse Fenella winked at her conspiratorially.

Georgie found a hospital gown - one of those that are open at the back - on the bed and slipped it on before getting into bed.

"What's your name?" asked the other girl after the nurse had left the room.

"Georgie. And you?"

"I'm Julie, and this is Fred. He's not really responsive yet - morphine."

"Why's that?"

"He was on duty at a 'Hen Night' yesterday. The ladies apparently gave him a really hard time. The only way to stop his pain was morphine, Dr. Bennet said."

"Oh shit," said Georgie. "I've really jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. And why are you here?"

"I was made available to a group of the boss's business friends yesterday. Unfortunately, they broke at least two of my ribs, so I have to be cured first."

"I thought this was a school, and you only got tortured every now and then?"

"That's true, in a way. Some more, some less. It's all rather opaque. But there is teaching. Only if you don't learn well, there are punishments."

Georgie already knew about that.

"You don't have to tell me, I just got kicked out of Eastminster."

"Well, congratulations. This is Eastminster on steroids. But I have to sleep now, my ribs hurt."

So Georgie was left alone with her thoughts. After about an hour, the door opened, and Nurse Fenella, another nurse, and two men in white clothing came in.

"I'm Dr. Bennet, these are orderly Mike and Nurse Pratchett, you already know Nurse Fenella, Georgie. We need to examine you first and see how long you'll have to stay here. We don't want you to miss too much class!"

Orderly Mike and Nurse Pratchett took her blanket away. The doctor, without further ado, simply pulled her gown up, so it covered her head. The rest of her body was naked again.

"Significant trauma to her left breast. Please lift your legs..." - hands grabbed her legs and held them up - a speculum penetrated her vagina. "Her vagina is also very damaged. We'll create a treatment plan right away."

Her gown came back down, as did the blanket.

"Well, it's not so bad. You'll be out of here in a week!" said the doctor.

Then, as he was leaving, to Orderly Mike: "The hematoma in her breast can be left to itself, or it might be cleared faster by aspiration and massage. We'd best clarify that with Mr. Fortescue later. I don't think it's encapsulated yet. For the vagina, I'll prescribe analgesic suppositories, three times a day, please, and an external analgesic would also be good, also three times a day..."

After another half hour, with both roommates still asleep, the orderly came back. He was pushing a small metal cart on which lay several medical instruments and medication packages.

"Please take off your gown, Georgie," he requested. Georgie sat up and slipped off the gown.

"Lie on your stomach, please," he said. When she was on her stomach, he began to cream her entire body. The cream burned on her wounds. Was it just her imagination, or was he creaming her buttocks particularly thoroughly?

She then had to turn over, and he creamed her front. This was particularly painful on the left breast - a deep bruise sat in the tissue. When she flinched, the orderly said: "Sorry. We'll discuss with Mr. Fortescue shortly how best to treat the bruise. He wants you fully fit again as soon as possible, so maybe we can speed up the healing process... Now, spread your legs nicely so I can insert a suppository..."

Georgie was hardened, after all... spreading her legs for a stranger was nothing new anymore. He inserted a very large vaginal suppository. It burned.

Georgie was allowed to put her gown back on. "Mr. Fortescue's rounds are in a moment - so please stay awake for now." He woke Julie up and fiddled with Fred's IV drip. Then he left the room.

"Who is this Fortescue person?" Georgie asked Julie.

"He's the owner of this whole place. You've probably met him already. He makes all the decisions here. What he says, goes. He comes once a week - he's not actually due today... maybe it's because of you that he's doing extra rounds."

Fred began to moan in the next bed. He seemed awake but didn't react when Julie spoke to him.

Then the door opened, and Mr. Fortescue entered, followed by Dr. Bennet, the two nurses, and the orderly.

"So, here's our newcomer. What can you tell me about her, Dr. Bennet?" As the two nurses uncovered Georgie and slipped off her gown, so she lay naked before the group, the doctor replied:

"At the moment, she cannot take any strain. Too many lacerations all over her body, as well as in her vagina. Also, a large hematoma in her left breast."

"How long?"

"Well, the wounds will be healed in three or four days. The hematoma, the bruise, will take longer. However, it's still fresh, so we can probably clear it up faster if we intervene. Then she'd be ready in a week at the latest."

"Well, then treat her."

"The procedure is painful, and the hematoma would also heal on its own in two or three weeks."

"No, we want her fit again. Do what needs to be done. Have you also examined her rectum? It was put through a lot..."

"I didn't know that. I can do that right away when I start the treatment."

Mr. Fortescue turned to Julie's bed... Georgie remained lying naked on the bed. "What can you tell me about Julie?"

"Well, she has two or three broken ribs. Many bruises. We suspect she has internal injuries. We'd need an MRI to determine that precisely." Julie's eyes widened. That didn't sound good. "If that's the case, she'll only get worse without treatment. I suggest flying her to the mainland to be examined in a hospital. Or acquiring a portable MRI machine. They're not that expensive anymore..."

"I'll think about it. Or perhaps she'd be a good candidate for the event at the end of next week? Can you stabilize her until then?"

"You mean...?" Dr. Bennet looked shocked and disturbed.

"Exactly."

"Well, yes, certainly, but she is, of course, already quite severely injured..."

"That might increase the appeal. I'll consult with my colleagues and let you know tonight. And how is little Fred?"

"Not good. He's about semi-conscious now because we've stopped the morphine drip. He has suffered a penile fracture and a testicular rupture, on the left side. Also, a perineal tear."

"Isn't that something only women get during childbirth?"

"Well, I don't know how it happened. The ladies probably wanted to see if it could happen to a boy too..."

"Prognosis?"

"We'll operate on him tomorrow morning. He should be okay in about a month."

"And if you don't operate?"

"Then it will take longer - he might not be able to get erections anymore."

"Okay, operate. That's all, then, thank you!"

Mr. Fortescue left the room, but the medical team remained. Dr. Bennet first turned Fred's drip back on. Then he wiped his forehead before coming back to Georgie's bed.

"Please turn onto your stomach," he asked her. When she had done so, he inserted a plastic tube into her bottom. It tickled, but also hurt a bit. She saw him looking at his phone - there was probably a camera at the end of the tube, and he could view her insides on his phone.

"Hmm, they really did a number on you. Orderly, an enema first, please, and then two suppositories daily. Georgie, you can turn over again."

When Georgie was back on her back, the four of them, one at each corner of the bed, had her tied to the bed by her arms and legs before she knew it. Dr. Bennet went to his metal cart and came back with a dangerous-looking cannula. Georgie turned pale but couldn't move, let alone defend herself, as he stuck the huge, thick needle into her breast tissue. The pain was worse than anything she had had to endure over the weekend. When the needle then penetrated the bruise itself, it got even worse. But then the doctor began to pull back the plunger. Dark blood collected in the cannula.

"It's okay, not encapsulated yet," he said. When the cannula was full, he slowly pulled the needle out. "One of you can massage the rest away. Should only take a day or two. She'll be fully fit again next week."

When they were alone again, Georgie wanted to ask Julie about the "event at the end of next week." But Julie was taciturn. She didn't really want to talk about it.

"Let's just say it's not good news. If they stop treating you and only 'stabilize' you, that's a bad sign."

"What did they do to you to cause such severe injuries?"

"You really don't want to know, Georgie. Really not. Let's just say baseball bats were involved."

"Oh." Georgie fell silent. Where on earth had she ended up?

The next week passed with regular, painful massages of her left breast. The daily enemas were particularly humiliating, especially since they took place in front of Julie and Fred, who was now conscious again. In return, the bruise was soon no longer palpable; it didn't hurt anymore either. The marks from the cane and whip also gradually disappeared - the ointment worked wonders.

Julie was no longer treated but received regular painkillers from a cabinet ominously labeled "Palliative."

Fred had since been operated on and was on the mend. He got along well with both girls and took particular pleasure in watching Georgie get creamed or receive suppositories. At first, he hadn't liked it at all because, for some reason, his problem area always hurt at the exact times Georgie was naked. But that had subsided by now. But he didn't want to talk about what had happened to him, no matter how much the girls begged.

But then came the day Georgie was discharged from the infirmary. She found herself in a dormitory with about ten other girls her age. The next day, the second Monday she experienced at this school, she was to attend classes for the first time.

The girls who shared her dorm wanted to know all about her expulsion from the school they had all once attended, and which they thought back on with longing... because at Thanatos School, a different wind was blowing!

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 2 - The Selection Process

The following Thursday, Georgie, now recovered, sat in the third row of her new class, the "Lower Fifth" (which corresponds roughly to the tenth grade in Germany). The discipline in this school was exemplary - although no teacher was in sight, everyone sat quietly at their desks. Georgie noticed that the girls were clearly in the majority - she estimated a ratio of about one to three. Otherwise, this classroom wasn't much different from those at Eastminster. The desks, however, were single desks arranged in five long rows. So there was always about a meter of space between the students.

She made eye contact with the boy next to her. He seemed like a nice guy, nodding encouragingly at her, smiling, and winking. She smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Georgie, I'm new here."

He looked nervously at the door.

"Charles," he whispered, "pleased to meet you."

Just then, the door opened, and the teacher strode in. Everyone stood up at once. Like in the military, thought Georgie, who rose much more slowly.

"Ah yes, so you are Georgina. I am Mrs. Collins," said the teacher. "You'll have to get used to the discipline here. Georgina is now in our class," she said, turning to the class. "I hope she will feel comfortable with us. Georgina, please stay here after class - I'd like to check your academic level so we can place you correctly here."

"Sure, no problem."

"Okay, as you all know, the class will soon be interrupted by the selection committee. Today, not just two, but four of you will be chosen, because the annual Gala Ball will take place at the weekend. Nevertheless, we will first continue with the Cicero translation. Where did we leave off? Charles?"

"At paragraph 14 of Catalina III."

"Ah yes. The next passage is: 'Primum mihi gratiae verbis amplissimis aguntur, quod virtute, consilio, providentia mea res publica maximis periculis sit liberata. Deinde L. Flaccus et C. Pomptinus praetores, quod eorum opera forti fidelique usus essem, merito ac iure laudantur.' Who wants to try? Only Charles again? Alright, then go ahead."

Probably the class brain, Georgie thought, slightly disappointed.

At that moment, however, the door opened and two men and a woman came in. Immediately, the whole class stood at attention again.

"Good morning. Please strip down to your underwear," said the woman. All the students obeyed immediately - Georgie wasn't really surprised, but was still one of the last to be standing behind her desk in her panties and bra. The underwear, like the rest of the uniform - which was very conservative and not at all provocative - had been assigned to her by the school. Her underwear was also conservative - white cotton, no padding or wire in the bra. Plain. The boys all wore the same type of underpants - also just white cotton, but conspicuously tight-fitting. Not much was left to the imagination.

She glanced over at Charles - for a brain, he was very well-built. Toned and muscular, but not too muscular. Just right. She looked down at him - whoa, he was really packing something in those pants. If he filled out his pants that well now, what would it be like when he was hard? Georgie felt herself getting wet. Then Charles caught her gaze and pointedly looked away.

Meanwhile, the three committee members were walking through the rows. They signaled for some students to come out from behind their desks and step into the aisle. Three, now four, had already done so. Georgie breathed a sigh of relief. She would probably be spared this time!

But then the woman pulled Charles by the arm into the aisle. She had celebrated too soon! And sure enough, from behind, one of the men tapped her on the shoulder and indicated for her to step out from behind her desk, before he continued down her row and had another girl step into the aisle. In the end, nine students, two boys and seven girls, were standing next to their desks.

All three committee members had now returned to the teacher's desk. Those standing in the aisle had to come to the front one by one to be inspected by all three. They stood with their backs to the class. First, a girl who was standing two rows further down the aisle. "Please take off your bra," the woman ordered, and she obeyed immediately. The two men looked doubtful, and the girl was allowed to go back to her desk. As she did, Georgie saw what had bothered the men: her nipples were very pale, and her left breast hung lower than her right.

Then it was Georgie's turn, and she slowly walked down the aisle to the front. "This is the new one," said one of the men. "Please get completely undressed!" he ordered her. "The marks are almost completely gone," he commented as she stood naked. "Dr. Bennet is a miracle healer." He felt her breasts. "Very nice and firm." The other one grabbed her between the legs. "And already very aroused!" he said with a laugh. "Turn around," said the woman. So Georgie now stood naked in front of her class. Embarrassing, yes, but Charles's admiring gaze made up for a lot!

"Please stand over there against the wall for now, Georgie," the woman instructed her. "Can the young man from the third row please come forward?"

Charles came forward. Although Georgie was, of course, anything but pleased that she would probably be "chosen," her spot had the advantage that she could now see Charles half-profile from the front, while the rest of the class only saw his back. Georgie wasn't sure if the sight of her naked body or the embarrassing situation was responsible for his penis being so swollen that his tight pants could no longer contain it.

"A sporty young man," said the woman.

"He's first in our class," Mrs. Collins spoke up, almost pleadingly. "He's very important for the learning climate here."

The three of them seemed not to have heard her. One of the men pulled Charles's underpants down. His penis stood erect - Georgie had a good view. Pretty long - about 25 cm, she estimated.

Charles had to stand next to Georgie - again he avoided her gaze, then noticed that she was now looking between his legs and turned deep red.

One student after another came forward. All the girls had to take off their bras and were then often sent right back. Some then had to slip off their panties and were inspected more closely before they were either sent to the wall with Georgie and Charles or allowed back to their desks.

In the end, only the second boy was left standing in the aisle - a good-looking guy. Three girls and Charles stood against the wall.

"Please come forward!" said the woman.

"We can't really choose two boys," said the first man. "Our quota is three girls and one boy. So we have to decide between these two."

By now, the boy had had to take off his underpants. His penis hung limply. It seemed rather small to Georgie.

"You can't really compare them like this," said the woman. "You!" She pointed to the girl who had been the first to be sent back to her desk. "Make him hard!"

Immediately, the girl came forward, knelt in front of the boy, and started giving him a blowjob. His penis grew enormously - when fully hard, it was at least as big as Charles's.

Charles and the other boy had to stand next to each other - front, profile, from behind.

"Well, I think Charles simply has the better ass. I'm for him," said the woman. The two men agreed, and the other boy was allowed to put his underpants back on and return to his desk.

"You four, please leave your uniforms here - you won't be needing them again today - and report to the small ballroom. The selection process starts at ten o'clock sharp, so there isn't much time."

With that, they left the classroom. Georgie heard them being greeted in the next class. The remaining students began to dress again with relief, while the four "chosen ones" also left the classroom.

"Do you know which ballroom that is?" a girl asked Charles uncertainly.

"Yeah, I think so. Just follow me!" he replied.

And so they walked through the castle. They soon left the school wing. Now they were walking on thick, hand-woven carpets through magnificent bedrooms, each with a massive four-poster bed in the middle. Finely woven tapestries and many oil paintings adorned the walls. They crossed a huge ballroom, with large windows, parquet flooring, and five chandeliers. It was a hive of activity - craftsmen were hammering and screwing and moving furniture. In all the hustle and bustle, no one paid the slightest attention to the four naked teenagers.

They went through more bedrooms - all of them interconnecting rooms - until they arrived in a small hall. On each side of this hall, a row of chairs was set up; in the middle, several gym mats had been laid out, creating an area of about 30 square meters. On one row of chairs sat about twenty students from various classes, all naked. The four from the Lower Fifth sat down with them. Another group of four came in - two slightly older boys and two girls - and sat in the remaining empty seats. There was silence. Only the ticking of a grandfather clock could be heard. As it began to strike, nine adults came in and sat down on the opposite row of chairs.

Mr. Fortescue came in last.

"I just want to briefly explain what happens next," he said, addressing everyone.

"This year, we will have thirty of our students at the Gala Ball, which is a new record in the school's history, appropriately honoring our tenth anniversary."

Georgie's heart sank. She had thought there would be another selection, so she might still be able to escape this. No such luck, she thought.

Mr. Fortescue continued: "Our guests from all over the world have, for the most part, indicated that they are dominant (they had to fill out a questionnaire to accept the invitation). We will therefore need an unusually large number of torture slaves. I mean, about 10 pleasure slaves and twenty torture slaves. Among the students gathered here, there are 23 girls and 7 boys. I don't think we'll need more than two or three male pleasure slaves. I suggest we select them first."

A murmur of agreement from the committee members.

"All boys, please step forward."

Charles, who had been sitting next to Georgie, stood up and took a step forward. He still had a stiff erection.

"The first round of the selection process consists of all of you lying down next to each other on the mat and masturbating. The first two to reach their second orgasm automatically advance to the next round. At the end of the round, we will say what the second round consists of or who was eliminated in the first round."

All the boys lay down on the gym mats, their heads facing their female classmates. Charles lay directly in front of Georgie. He and two other boys had stiff erections. Two were at "half-mast," but the other two were completely flaccid. One of the two had recognized the seriousness of the situation and was trying to get his dick up by rubbing it. A committee member saw this and sharply reprimanded him. He stopped.

A woman gave the command: "It starts on three. One, two... THREE!"

All seven boys began to rub their penises wildly. They had very different techniques. The majority used only one hand, which they formed into a tube and moved quickly up and down. Others used both hands, pulling the foreskin quickly up and down. Charles did this too, which Georgie liked, as she got to see more. One boy rubbed his hands together, with his penis in the middle, as if it were a stick he was trying to start a fire with.

At the sight of the seven masturbating, and very good-looking, boys, the thought even crossed Georgie's mind that perhaps this "school" was bearable after all...

The boy next to Charles ejaculated. Georgie had been so focused on Charles that she hadn't even noticed he was approaching his climax. But now she noticed it very well, because his sperm had landed on her thigh! She had no tissues or anything, and she didn't want to wipe it off with her hand either. She just left it where it was. After a short time, it liquefied and ran down both sides. It itched too.

The boy hadn't noticed what "far-reaching" effects his orgasm had had. He was too preoccupied with himself. His penis had, as soon as he came, collapsed. He made a move to continue rubbing, but then gave up. He just lay there with his eyes closed.

Now Charles also came. Georgie had almost missed it because she was now focused on her thigh-spermer. But a groan from Charles had ensured that didn't happen. He arched his back and the semen shot out of his member, but it didn't fly quite as far, landing mostly on Charles himself. Charles now grimaced and continued to masturbate. His neighbor's member still lay flaccid on his stomach. Charles, however, seemed to be approaching another climax. Meanwhile, several boys to his left and right were ejaculating for the first time. Some lost their hard-ons afterward, others didn't.

Georgie hadn't noticed that two female committee members were pacing back and forth at the boys' feet, checking if everything was above board. When a boy ejaculated, they placed a black wooden cone at his feet. While the last boys were still having their first orgasm, Charles came a second time. He was through to the next round and stopped, relieved. One of the women placed a red wooden '1' at his feet.

One of the two boys who didn't have an erection at the beginning still hadn't gotten one, even though he was desperately rubbing. Meanwhile, at the very end of the row, a second boy had come for the second time.

The woman who had given the command to start also gave the command to stop.

"Hands to your sides. Charles and Geoffrey are through to the next round. Eliminated are all those of the others who no longer have an erection at this moment. That's George, Burt, and Jonathan. The other two are through to the next round."

Georgie realized that her thigh-spermer was also eliminated. Tough luck. Being a torture slave would certainly be no picnic. She knew all about that. And she remembered with a shudder Fred in the infirmary. Really severe injuries were apparently accepted here.

The three who were eliminated left the hall. They had been sent to the infirmary for a health check. The remaining four, of whom either one or two would be eliminated, now stood in the middle of the hall, with their backs to the girls.

The woman, whom Georgie was now calling "Cutthroat Bitch" or "CB" for short, addressed the four boys: "We come to the next round. Since we will also have homosexual guests, a good pleasure slave must be able to satisfy a man orally. Furthermore, we are looking for pleasure slaves with great endurance. You will therefore form two pairs. One will satisfy the other with his mouth. We will time it. Then the roles will be swapped. We will time it. The two who each took longer before they came, win and will be pleasure slaves at the weekend. The other two go into the 'hopeful' round."

The four boys had all turned red. They couldn't believe it.

CB spoke again: "Charles won the first competition. He can therefore choose his partner for the second round. Who will it be, Charles?"

Georgie could practically read Charles's thoughts on his face. Geoffrey had also come twice. Making him orgasm would be difficult. He had a clear advantage over the other two. He looked at them appraisingly. Unfortunately, they had both lost their erections by now (he himself was still standing at "attention," as Georgie noted with admiration). He pointed to the boy whose penis was still slightly at half-mast.

"Okay," said CB, "that means Charles and Robert are the first pair, Geoffrey and Tom the second. I suggest the two winners go first. So Tom and Robert, please lie down on the mat. Since neither of you is currently erect, we have an additional rule: if you are still flaccid after two minutes, you are eliminated, as long as your partner is still erect."

Too many rules, Georgie thought. But by now, Robert and Tom had lain down, and Charles and Geoffrey bent over them. On CB's command, both took the respective penis into their mouth and began to suck and lick. Geoffrey was clearly more skilled at it than Charles, as Georgie noted with relief. Thus, Tom's dick soon stood up, while Robert's remained flaccid. Charles held back. His efforts became less insistent. Was he gambling on a limp-dick victory? It looked like it.

Meanwhile, Tom had started to moan. He arched his back, and Geoffrey pulled his mouth away just in time as he ejaculated.

"One minute, 28 seconds," CB noted.

To Georgie's horror, Robert's dick now slowly stood up. Charles almost stopped licking him, but it was clear it was too late. The two-minute mark must have passed, and no one was stopping the proceedings. So Charles now began to blow for his life.

"Three minutes," came from CB.

"Four minutes."

"Five minutes."

Georgie felt sorry for Charles. It didn't look good for him. He had miscalculated and was now paying the price.

"After five minutes, it's allowed to use hands. We have all day, but it's getting boring!" CB announced.

Charles took Robert's dick in his hands and started rubbing it, using his mouth from time to time, almost for form's sake. It was obvious that an orgasm was building, but Charles apparently got a cramp in one hand, so he had to switch to one hand. This destroyed Robert's growing orgasm, his erection subsided. Charles had to start all over again. When Robert finally came, Charles had a proud 11 minutes on the clock.

"We now come to the return round. Charles and Geoffrey, on your backs, please. Time starts... NOW!"

Georgie noticed that CB's hand kept wandering uncontrollably between her legs. She herself had similar urges, but thought better of it...

She now watched with interest again. Geoffrey no longer had a hard-on, but was slowly getting one. Tom did his best, but he wasn't allowed to use his hands yet, and his efforts only managed to get Geoffrey erect. Then one and a half minutes were up, and CB stopped Tom. "Geoffrey is our first pleasure slave, Tom has to go to the hopeful round."

Geoffrey was allowed to sit down again. In the meantime, Robert had been blowing Charles for four minutes. Charles showed no signs of coming yet. Tom stood next to the pair with a half-erect penis, clearly not knowing what to do with himself.

"Five minutes. Robert may now use his hands."

Robert had obviously drawn his conclusions from Charles's technique. He took Charles's dick in both hands and began to rub for all he was worth. Without warning, Charles's semen shot into his face. He was disgusted, but he had won. The fate of a torture slave was spared him. He, too, was allowed to sit down. Like Georgie, he had no idea how to clean himself up...

CB spoke: "We come to the hopeful round. It truly is a round of hope, because we are not sure if we really need more than two male pleasure slaves. The winner will have to prove himself first. So, Charles and Tom, choose one of the girls. She will then ride you until you come or lose your erection. Whoever that happens to has qualified as a torture slave. The other one will then have to prove himself to be spared this fate."

Charles and Tom walked hesitantly along the line of girls. Georgie really wanted to ride Charles now. Oh, what she would have given for that! But he just looked at her shyly and chose another girl. A blonde, of course. Georgie was boiling with jealousy. Then she felt Tom's hand on her shoulder. Oh no! This couldn't be happening! She must be in the wrong movie!

CB: "I'd like to point out to the ladies that the competition to go into the weekend as a pleasure slave, and not a torture slave, begins now. The one who brings her partner to climax first automatically moves on to the second round! The other is automatically eliminated and will be our first torture slave!"

Georgie became anxious. Crunch time!

Charles and Tom were now lying next to each other, with some distance between them. Neither of them had potency problems.

"Time starts... NOW."

Georgie tried her best to guide Tom's dick into her vagina, but it kept slipping off. Charles's chosen one was already riding him with great passion. Georgie was about to give up when it finally slipped into her. She began to ride him like crazy. Meanwhile, Charles's partner had been a bit too wild - he had slipped out of her. An orgasm was building in Georgie... it washed over her in waves, her vaginal muscles tensed. That was the last straw for Tom. He groaned. Georgie felt his juice squirt into her, although there couldn't have been much left. Even though her orgasm wasn't quite over, she dismounted him so the committee could see the last drops of sperm dripping out of him. She was in the next round, as the first one!

CB confirmed this: "Georgie can sit out the first round. Tom and Chelsey, please report to Dr. Bennet for the mandatory medical checkup for torture slaves!"

The two trotted off, dejected, while Georgie sat down again. Charles stood, somewhat uncertain, alone in the middle of the hall.

"My colleague, Mrs. Bennet, will go with you, Charles, to one of the private chambers. There you can convince her that you are fit to be a pleasure slave. She will then decide your fate alone."

Mrs. Bennet, whom Georgie hadn't even noticed before, stood up, took Charles by the hand, and left the hall with him.

Now Mr. Fortescue spoke again. "We will now begin the first round for the female students. We have seven or perhaps eight spots for pleasure slaves. So 15 or 16 of you will be available to our guests as torture slaves. In the first round, we will select some torture slaves. You will come before the committee one by one and follow instructions. Then the committee will vote by each holding up an 'L' or an 'F'. Majority rules. Georgie alone is exempt from this round; she is already qualified for round 2. First, please, Yasmeena."

A young girl, who probably originally came from the Middle East, stepped forward. No committee member had any orders for her - they all immediately held up the "F." Damned racists, Georgie thought.

"Yasmeena, you are eliminated. Please report to Dr. Bennet."

"Chloe." A blonde girl with thick, blonde pubic hair stepped forward. "Please knead your breasts!" a man ordered her. She obeyed, even managing to pretend she was enjoying it. "Now spread your legs and pull your lips apart! One can't see anything with all that vegetation!" another one. Again, the girl obeyed. "Well, I'm against her," said the second man. "Way too much hair!" "Something can be done about that!" the first one interjected. They voted. A slim majority for "L." So she was in the next round.

"Tyron!" A very small, thin girl with almost no breasts came forward. She had to turn in a circle. "Did you shave your pubic hair, or wax it off?"

"I don't have much yet, didn't have to do anything."

"What grade are you in?"

"In the Lower Fourth." That's roughly the eighth grade in Germany. Compulsory schooling in England starts at four, though!

"Then you're a late developer." The man felt her breasts and looked at her pubic area very closely. "Indeed. You look like you're eleven." Turning to the group: "Some guests would surely love that."

"Perhaps," replied Mr. Fortescue, "but they would surely also have fun torturing her. And being a torture slave doesn't mean the guests aren't allowed to get sexual."

CB spoke up: "How much sexual experience do you have?"

"Well, I received the private sex education at Eastminster."

"And you were kicked out because you didn't participate properly, right?" Mr. Fortescue interjected.

"That's correct," CB confirmed.

Mr. Fortescue wordlessly held up an "F" - everyone else did the same. Tyron sobbed and made her way to Dr. Bennet.

And so it continued. In the end, there were 16 girls left in the room.

"Moving on." CB seemed to be in charge again. "We have set up a gloryhole wall in one of the private chambers. Four members of the committee will go there now. Each of you will stimulate them orally in turn and receive points anonymously. The five with the worst scores will become torture slaves."

The room was strange - a baroque state room, and in the middle of it, the furniture having been removed, a square wooden booth with a hole in each side. And out of the holes protruded four penises. The girls lined up in a long row. The first four girls stood at one hole each and began to blow the respective penis on command. After one minute, a signal - a rather unpleasant sound - and they moved to the next hole and continued. Then the next four, and so on. Georgie was in the third group. By this time, one of the men had already come; his penis hung limply from the hole.

Georgie already had some experience in this discipline, although she had clearly been inferior to Cecily last time. Accordingly, she was nervous. But she made the very first penis she took into her mouth orgasm. She suppressed the instinctive reaction to pull back and instead swallowed every drop. Next was the limp penis - as much as she tried, it remained limp. The third one tasted extremely bitter. She did her best and heard a groan from the other side of the wooden wall, but then the signal sounded. The last one was the longest and stiffest, but her mouth couldn't make an impression on him.

Then everyone was gathered back in the small ballroom, sitting on the mat. CB announced the result:

"Zara, Pippa, Flora, Imogen, and Ailsa... please report to Dr. Bennet, you will be torture slaves. The remaining ten have made it to the next round!"

The four left the hall in tears, while Mr. Fortescue was already explaining the rules for the next round:

"There will also be lesbian and bisexual women among the guests. They also want to be serviced. You will now stimulate each other orally, with your head behind a curtain, so that the one receiving doesn't know who is stimulating her. You will then each give a rating between one and ten. But no tricks! The one who gives the fewest points is automatically eliminated. Honesty is the best policy! Afterward, the roles are swapped. The two worst will become torture slaves. The third-worst still has a chance if Charles is declared a torture slave. If Mrs. Bennet thinks he can be a pleasure slave, she will automatically become a torture slave. Let's begin!"

Seven gurneys were rolled in. A frame was attached approximately in the middle of the upper half, holding a curtain. Georgie had to lie on one. Her legs were tied to the frame so they were spread and open. The curtain closed. Next to her head stood, of all people, CB!

A tone sounded. Georgie already felt lips kissing her vagina. Then a tongue gently opened her and penetrated her tenderly. Even though she had already come once, she felt a hot flush. Then the tone again. The tongue abruptly retreated.

"Eight!" she whispered. CB wrote it down.

The tone. Another tongue, this time immediately seeking her clitoris. Almost like a man! Then she also kneaded her breasts ungently...

"Two!" she whispered when it was over.

And so it went. In the end, Georgie had a better idea of what was really nice and made a firm resolution to put her experiences into practice. Georgie had to draw a number - she drew three. So she started at the third gurney. You saw the curtain, then the girl's breasts - quite large - and a vagina covered with red pubic hair, but open. Georgie didn't know the girl, but she knew who it was, because only one redhead was in the competition. When the tone sounded, she first kissed the girl's labia tenderly and only used her tongue very gently after ten seconds. No reaction from the redhead. The tone sounded. Georgie now went to the next gurney. This time she found a dripping pussy, whether with saliva or arousal fluid, she couldn't say. The clitoris was exposed and glistened wetly. The tone. Georgie approached with her tongue and lightly touched the labia, avoiding the clitoris. The girl moaned. Georgie's movements became more intense, but she continued to avoid the clitoris. When the girl's abdominal muscles tensed, she then licked it, and the girl screamed with pleasure. Meanwhile, the committee members had gathered around gurney 4 to get a better look. As the girl's orgasm subsided, the signal came to stop. That had, Georgie thought, taken unusually long.

And so it continued. Georgie moved from gurney to gurney - from gurney 7 she naturally had to go back to gurney 1, and two more girls climaxed under her tender tongue.

"We now come to the evaluation!" CB was speaking again.

"We'll start with third place. That's Bryony, with 52 points! Please sit on the bench!" The relieved girl, the redhead by the way, sat down.

"Second place goes to... Rhiannon, with 55 points!

First place, with an incredible 63 points, goes to... Libby!"

Beaming, Libby, also one of the girls from the Lower Fourth, sat on the bench.

"In fourth place, with 49 points, Tilly, in fifth, with 48 points, Gwen, sixth place is shared, with 45 points each, by Layla and Florence."

It only dawned on Georgie belatedly that because sixth place was shared, she herself could at best end up in eighth place! So she would become a torture slave if Mrs. Bennet, which she assumed, made Charles a pleasure slave!

"The cursed eighth place goes to..." CB left a long pause for dramatic effect, "...Harriet, with 41 points!"

Georgie and the other two girls whose names hadn't been called yet, cried out. Georgie had to keep thinking of Julie, who had been beaten with baseball bats. Being a torture slave here, especially at the school's 10th-anniversary celebration, was really dangerous, but that was probably her fate now!

"Ninth place goes to Georgie, with 40 points, (so close, Georgie thought), tenth place to Millie, with 22 points."

Georgie and Millie hugged each other to console one another. Georgie had counted on winning - how could she have ended up so low?

The seven winners had joined hands and were dancing exuberantly on the mat.

"Wait!" shouted CB. "Nothing is decided yet!"

The girls stopped dancing and looked at her.

"Only 19, and thus the lowest score, was given by... Bryony!" The redhead, previously in third place and thinking she was safe, screamed loudly. "No!!!"

"You're becoming a torture slave, I'm afraid," said CB coolly. "You and Millie, please report to Dr. Bennet."

Georgie now realized that Bryony's elimination suddenly put her in eighth place. So there was still hope, although she couldn't quite believe that Charles hadn't convinced Mrs. Bennet he'd make a good pleasure slave.

Georgie now suddenly stood alone in the middle of the hall. But now Mrs. Bennet and Charles came back in. Charles stood next to Georgie.

"Well, Mrs. Bennet?" Mr. Fortescue asked.

"I am thrilled with Charles. He is a very well-built and attractive boy. He also knows how to use his penis very well - he made me climax three times."

That was it, then, Georgie thought. It couldn't have gone any other way.

Mrs. Bennet continued: "But at no point did I feel that he truly found me attractive. I will therefore take great pleasure in torturing his penis at the weekend. He will be a torture slave!"

"No!!!" screamed Charles, while Georgie collapsed in relief. Nevertheless, she looked over at Charles with pity and empathy. She put all her... well, it probably wasn't love, but attraction... into that look. He understood, but then had to make his way to Dr. Bennet. Would he ever be able to sink his stately member into Georgie? She strongly doubted it... She had to think about what had happened to Fred...

Georgie, Robert, Geoffrey, and the seven other girls who had made it as pleasure slaves were now taken by CB to a modernly furnished suite on the second floor of the castle. There Georgie recognized Nurse Pratchett again, who was already waiting for them. CB explained the rules:

"Tomorrow evening, the guests arrive. Some of you will then be chosen by individual guests who have requested a pleasure slave. You will be exclusively available to them, unless they explicitly order otherwise. Those who are not chosen will be available to all guests without restriction. As pleasure slaves, you are not allowed to be tortured, unless you are disobedient. But even in that case, guests must first file a complaint, which the committee will then rule on. You must, however, submit to what we call 'light BDSM.' So, clamps, cane on the bottom, etc. But nothing hard. Otherwise, you must obey absolutely.

Until Saturday afternoon, please, nothing sexual! No self-gratification, nothing. In case of violation, we will exchange you for a torture slave.

Also, you are not allowed to eat anything else until tomorrow. It's important that your rectum is empty on Saturday evening. Shortly before it starts, everyone will get an enema. Then you can strengthen yourselves with a little bread.

You may get dressed again now - the school uniforms are ready next door. Until tomorrow, you will be housed in rooms here in the castle, all of which are 100% monitored by CCTV. So please: Don't get any ideas! We see everything!"

Georgie turned to leave with the others.

"Georgina!" she was called back. "Dr. Bennet wants to see you briefly. He wants to make sure everything has healed sufficiently inside as well. You know where the infirmary is. Please come back here afterward so we can lock you in your room."

Georgie got dressed in the next room and made her way to the infirmary. The waiting room was still quite full of future torture slaves waiting to be examined. All were still naked. Just then, the door opened and Orderly Mike led a group of girls outside. They all wore handcuffs and leg irons. He handed them over to a security guard: "These, I believe, are for dungeon 4." "Understood, sir," said the security guard and led the group out of the waiting room.

Mike saw Georgie. "Ah, hello Georgie. I can take you in between, if you want." She went with him into the consulting room, where Dr. Bennet was currently taking Tom's blood pressure. Both were sitting on chairs in front of a curtain.

"Will you get undressed already and sit on the gyno chair, please?" he asked her. It was in the opposite corner, behind the doctor. She undressed and went over. Only when she sat down did she notice that behind the curtain sat the four other male torture slaves, including Charles. She still had her legs chastely together, not yet in the stirrups, but the situation was still embarrassing to her.

The doctor had no such problems. He put Tom on the bench with the others. Orderly Mike put handcuffs and leg irons on the boys one by one. By this time, however, Georgie was already "properly" in the chair, with her legs spread and Dr. Bennet's speculum in her vagina. When he inserted a smaller speculum into her bottom, they were fortunately already on their way to the dungeon.

"Good, you are 100% ready for action. You can get dressed again!"

Georgie made her way to her temporary room. Truly luxurious. But there were cameras everywhere, even in the toilet!

She went to bed early. Although the ball wasn't supposed to start until Saturday, there was still that sort of slave market the next evening... better to sleep while she could! She thought of Charles. Would he be able to sleep in his dungeon? She had her doubts...

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 3 - The Auction

All ten pleasure slaves found themselves in the infirmary at 5 p.m. on Friday evening, hungry as wolves, as they hadn't had anything to eat since Thursday morning. Orderly Mike called them in one by one. When it was Georgie's turn, she had to lie on her stomach on a gurney. He smeared Vaseline in and around her asshole, inserted a tube with a thickened end so that her sphincter muscle closed around it. Then he opened the valve, and the warm, soapy liquid flowed into her intestine. Afterward, she sat on the potty, and the plug was pulled out again. We'd rather not describe this in detail, but we can say that it didn't smell very good.

All ten pleasure slaves, now cleansed inside and out (everyone had showered, of course, although they knew the showers in their luxury rooms were 100% recorded by CCTV), now made their way to one of the rooms where the castle's servants had once been fed. There, oh joy, there was barley soup and dry bread. That doesn't sound like a feast, but after almost two days of forced fasting, Georgie was extremely happy about it.

The old lord of the castle had seen himself as a "Thespian," an amateur actor, and had set up a theater in one of his ground-floor rooms. It had a real stage, although the auditorium was realistically small. However, small balconies were attached to the walls, giving the audience the impression of being in a much larger theater. There was also a real dressing room, where the young pleasure slaves now gathered. And of course, CB was there to give them instructions while they ate something for the first time in over 40 hours.

"Okay, this is how it's going to work. All the guests who are interested in their own pleasure slave are sitting in the audience. You will all go on stage together in your school uniforms in a moment. The guests can purchase exclusive rights to you for a donation of £10,000 to the school - they just have to call out your number (which you will wear in front of you) into the hall. Those who are left over will then go on stage one by one and slowly undress. Guests can then bid on them.

Those on whom no bids are placed will be available to all guests as pleasure slaves."

"Hmm, what's better, being bought or not being bought?" Georgie asked Gwen, who was standing next to her, while chewing on a piece of dry bread.

"Definitely being bought. Then someone is interested in you; after all, they've invested something. They won't just let anyone have a go. Last year, we didn't have a selection process at all - you only became a pleasure slave if someone bought you. All the others became torture slaves. The selection process was a new idea from Mr. Fortescue. The film of it will also make him thousands."

"The film of it? I didn't see any cameras..."

"But the cameras saw you all the better, believe me! It's been edited all day today - tonight, after the auction, it will be shown to all the guests for the first time."

"You really know your way around..."

"I've been here for three years. you pick up a few things..."

"Like what?"

"The less you know, the better. But you can probably guess that you were lucky to make it as a pleasure slave. I've managed to avoid hard torture so far."

"Quiet, please! This isn't a kindergarten!" It was Mr. Fortescue himself. "The auction that's about to take place is extremely important for the financial well-being of our school. So show yourselves at your best! This year, for the anniversary, there's a new feature. Those who don't find a buyer won't become torture slaves like in previous years; instead, this year we have a number of fetish customers for whom we're providing a specially equipped fetish room. Those who don't find a buyer will report to this room at 11 p.m. and be available there for bondage, bukkake, light BDSM, and other fetishes. I hope that motivates you! And now, on stage! Don't disgrace us!"

The first bars of "Also sprach Zarathustra" resounded in the small theater as the ten students marched onto the stage.

Then from the loudspeaker: "And here they come, our anniversary pleasure slaves, Rhiannon, Libby, Tilly, Gwen, Layla, Florence, Harriet, Georgina, Geoffrey, and Robert! Please applaud!"

The assembled guests clapped. Judging by the applause, there were quite a few, certainly more than 20. Georgie couldn't see anything - the spotlights were too bright.

"Dear guests," the voice was heard again (it wasn't Mr. Fortescue, but sounded like a professional entertainer or actor, as if he were hosting a TV show), "in the first round of our auction, you have the opportunity to acquire a pleasure slave on a 'Buy it now' basis, for a donation of £10,000. Just call out the name into the hall, the sum will then be automatically debited from your account!"

"Gwen!" shouted a male voice.

"Harriet!" a female voice.

"Geoffrey!" another female voice.

Then silence in the hall. Gwen, Harriet, and Geoffrey left the stage. The spotlight now fell on Rhiannon.

"Rhiannon is blonde, 1.55m tall, 32B, and from the Lower Sixth. She impressed in the selection process with her tongue skills!"

Silence. The spotlight moved on.

"Libby is brunette, 1.46m tall, 30A, and from the Fourth Form. Her tongue skills are also to be emphasized!"

"Okay, I'll take her!" a man's voice from the hall. Libby left the stage.

And so it continued. Tilly and Layla were also sold and left the stage; Florence remained standing next to Georgie.

Then she herself was in the spotlight. "Here we have Georgina, 1.57m tall, brunette, from the Lower Fifth. She only just joined us last week." Silence in the hall. Nobody wanted her.

The spot now moved to Robert. "Robert is from the Upper Sixth, is 1.92m tall, and has a penis length of 22cm." Silence.

Rhiannon, Florence, Georgie, and Robert had to go to the next round. In the dressing room was now CB, who explained to them what would happen next: "You will now go on stage one by one and undress as provocatively as possible. You know what's at stake, so do your best!"

"And now," one could hear from the theater, "Rhiannon. The minimum bid is £1000!"

Rhiannon went on stage. Georgie could see from the side how she slowly undressed. When she was standing in her underwear, the first bid of £1000 came. When she was completely naked, it went up to £4000. Someone asked her to show her asshole, and she obeyed immediately. The bid then went up to £5000. That was the final price, and Rhiannon came back to the dressing room. Florence was sent out next and sold for £2000. Then it was Georgie's turn. She undressed as provocatively as she could, but no bids were made. She rubbed her breasts, spread her legs, showed her asshole - it was all for nothing.

"Really, no bids for this pretty girl? I can't believe it..."

But it was true. No bid for Georgie. She returned to the dressing room, dejected. Robert went out now. Georgie watched with no great interest (she was just too disappointed) as he undressed. He had a stiff hard-on, but then also had to pull his butt cheeks apart, facing the audience. A man offered £1000, and it stayed at that. He was sold to him. He didn't look really happy when he came back to the dressing room.

"Only one pleasure slave, Georgina, did not find a buyer," said the speaker. "She will be available, along with two or three torture slaves, from 11 p.m. tomorrow evening in the fetish room. Everyone is welcome to watch, but to participate, please buy a Flat Rate Fetish Pass for only £500!

We will now show a film that was made during the selection process. Guests have the chance here to see all the pleasure and torture slaves as they try to be classified as a torture slave..."

But by now, Georgie was already on her way back to her room. She was not looking forward to the next day...

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 4: The Anniversary Ball 1

After a restless night and an equally restless day, Georgie found herself in the so-called "Staging Area," a room where preparations for the ball, which was to begin in an hour, were in full swing.

The first thing she saw was a line of her classmates - demoted to torture slaves - waiting in a row. Charles was at the very front. Something was just being explained to him. He nodded dejectedly. He followed a security guard towards the ballroom.

But now another security guard spoke to her: "You're Georgie, right? Okay, just a few explanations. All female pleasure slaves must wear this dress..." - he handed her a garment bag, like one you get from the dry cleaner. "But no underwear underneath. Since you don't have an owner, just mingle with the guests, who all know that girls in this dress are pleasure slaves. You probably won't be wearing it for long, because you must follow all instructions from the guests. But be careful that no one monopolizes you! They could have had you for money, but they didn't want to. If no one is giving you instructions, go to the various torture stations, there's always a lot of pent-up sexual energy there. Feel free to grope guests who are watching the events there - the rest will follow. Oh, and we'll call you to the fetish room around quarter to eleven - please be prompt. You'll be alone there at first, I think, but we'll add one or two torture slaves for company. Understood? Then get going!"

"Where am I supposed to change?"

"Right here. Do you really think we've arranged changing rooms especially for you?"

So Georgie took off her school uniform, then her underwear. She squeezed into the pink satin dress - really, a total kitsch-fest! Then she made her way towards the ballroom. At the entrance, which was still closed, a whole line of guests already stood with their invitations in hand. Some had Georgie's female classmates with them - also in these fantastic dresses, but with a blue sash on which the name of their owner was written.

Then the ballroom doors opened. It shone brightly in the light of the chandeliers. A string quartet was playing "Death and the Maiden." Waiters and waitresses with canapés and champagne glasses approached the guests, who filled the room only slowly because everyone's invitation was being checked. This ball was not just exclusive - what would happen here was also highly illegal, so it was important to control exactly that only authorized persons gained access.

Georgie, who had also been offered a glass of champagne, sipped it as she walked through the hall. She joined a group of guests.

"You really have excellent taste, judging by your slave," said a woman of about 35, with a German accent, to a sheikh who had Gwen, in the same pink dress as Georgie but with a sash that read "Sulman Abdul Asim," in his arm.

"Yes, I saw her when she came into the theater and knew right away: I must have her. Only cost £10,000. The evening is long, and tomorrow is another day - if you want to have her later, we can certainly arrange that," said the sheikh and sipped his champagne.

"Excuse me," a somewhat older, dignified-looking American woman interjected, "are you drinking water?"

"Bollinger," replied the sheikh with a grin. "What the Prophet doesn't know, won't make Allah hot."

"Forgive me, that was very insensitive of me," the American woman apologized. "Your young friend is wearing a very beautiful dress." She noticed Georgie. "Oh no, what bad luck that this young lady chose the same model!"

"Really bad luck," said the sheikh with a grin. "This must be your first time at the ball here at the castle?"

"Yes, I'm newly married - my husband, Senator Mick McBommel from Alabama, comes every year but didn't want to tell me much. He said it would spoil the surprise..."

The German woman, whose conversation with the sheikh had been interrupted by the American, and who was somewhat unhappy about it, said: "But the problem with the dress can be solved very easily." She turned to Georgie: "Get undressed and give your dress to the waiter!"

"Ha, ha, ha, hilarious, that's that great British humor!" laughed the American woman, who apparently mistook all Europeans for British. However, the laughter stuck in her throat when Georgie, as she had to, peeled off the dress and now stood naked in the group. As instructed, she gave the dress to the waiter, who left the hall with it and returned a little later with fresh canapés.

"It really is a different culture here..." said the American woman and walked away, shaking her head. The German woman examined Georgie's body. "So you're the unsold item... I'll visit you later in the fetish room. Already looking forward to it!"

"May I ask, Madam, what happens in the fetish room?" Georgie asked respectfully.

"Oh, they didn't tell you? Then I don't want to spoil the surprise, to speak like our American friend. Let's just say that there will be very fine champagne for you there too..." she said and laughed out loud. The sheikh, his entourage, and Gwen laughed with her.

"When does the program actually start?" asked the sheikh. "It's supposed to be exceptional this year."

"The program says 8:30 p.m.," said the German woman, "so in about twenty minutes." She lifted Georgie's left breast and ran her finger over the puncture mark from the needle Dr. Bennet had used to remove the bruise. "What happened here?" Georgie explained that the bruise had been removed that way.

"Oh? Were you a torture slave then?"

"No, I was at the Eastminster Academy's Alpine chalet."

"That doesn't ring a bell," said the German woman, who now seemed bored.

A man joined the group. "Hello Hans," said the German woman. "Hans, this is Mr. Asim from Qatar. He was responsible behind the scenes for his country's bid for the 2022 World Cup."

"Oh, I'm very interested in that," said Hans, probably the German woman's husband. "We must talk about that.

Maybe we can go to one of the theme rooms together right away? It should be starting soon..."

"Sure," said the sheikh. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I usually just go with the flow..." said Hans. "I also find the names of the theme rooms a bit cryptic this time..."

"Good, then let's go with the flow together. Do you also have something to do with the most important side-issue in the world?"

"Yes, that's right, I'm a political liaison at the DFB..."

While the two were talking shop, Hans's wife spoke with Gwen.

"How long have you been at the school?"

"One year."

"And do you like it here?"

"Very much. This school gives me the discipline I need, and the teachers are first-class."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Georgie was about to turn away and join another group when the German woman held her back with her hand.

"Please accompany us to the first theme room, okay?"

"Sure," said Georgie.

Just then, Mr. Fortescue, in a white bow tie and tails, took the floor.

"Honored guests and patrons of our school! Welcome to our anniversary ball! It is only thanks to your help and your political protection that we can run a school here, in the Hebrides, in freedom, as we see fit. Tonight is our thanks for that! The theme rooms will be opened right after my little welcome - I arranged it this way, otherwise I might not have an audience!"

Polite laughter. The man should have been a comedian, Georgie thought.

"Our theme rooms this year are not divided by sexual preference or harshness, but by themes. Let yourselves be surprised! For example, 'The Mousetrap,' loosely based on Agatha Christie, is definitely worth a visit. You also know that special feeling of happiness that new lovers have? We call it 'Pins and Needles' in English, and we have a theme room for that too. Something for romantics. Tough men might prefer our 'DIY Shack' - but women are also very welcome there! They might be more at home in Zootopia... And so on. There are no limits here!

Use our pleasure slaves as much as you want - unfortunately, almost all of them were sold yesterday, but no owner refuses a friendly request! Besides, I see that the only pleasure slave who wasn't sold, Georgie, has already gotten rid of her dress. Probably not her taste... who can blame her, those things are really hideous this year!

Just one more note: For the anniversary, we have, of course, come up with something really great. The highlight of the night starts at one o'clock. So don't go to bed before then! At least not to sleep! All theme rooms will be closed at a quarter to one, the performance will then continue here on stage. We will serve a small midnight buffet beforehand, starting around midnight."

Only now did Georgie notice that an octagonal stage had been erected in the middle of the hall. But it was still covered with panels of fabric, so you couldn't see what was on it.

"So, without further ado, welcome to Thanatos Academy, enjoy yourselves! You all deserve it! The theme rooms are now open!"

The Mousetrap

The caravan, led by the sheikh, with his entourage, Gwen, the German couple, and the naked Georgie, set off. The entrances to the theme rooms were at the edge of the hall and led down stairs into cellars that lay beneath the hall. Everyone had to duck to get into the first theme room, "The Mousetrap." Somehow fitting, Georgie thought.

The room closely resembled a dungeon. Three torture slaves, one boy and two girls, stood in the middle of the room, their hands chained to the ceiling. Steel rails ran along the ceiling, on which the chains could be moved to any position. The three's legs were also chained to the floor. Georgie immediately recognized Bryony, the redhead who had been eliminated for giving the lowest score. She recognized the other girl but didn't know her name. The boy was Tom.

A torturer, dressed in full medieval costume, stood against the wall. The whole room looked very medieval - in the corner stood a forge, which radiated a strong heat.

"To warm up the slaves, take these first!" he said and handed out three whips. The sheikh, Hans, and his wife each took one. The sheikh stood in front of Bryony, the German woman in front of Tom, and her husband in front of the other girl. Above her was a sign that read "Bronwen." Then they all started laughing and whipping the three, from all sides. Bronwen screamed bloody murder. Bryony was relatively composed. The German woman first hit Tom on the back and bottom, but then concentrated on his penis, which she hit from above. It stood like a rock. Tom wore a cock ring at the base of his penis, which probably prevented the blood from flowing back.

The sheikh's arm grew tired, and he asked the torturer if he could also have his fun without a whip. "Sure, just always say what you intend to do beforehand, Sir," he said.

"I'd like to slap the wenches a bit."

"Please, go ahead, of course."

While the other two continued whipping, the sheikh stood authoritatively in front of Bryony. Suddenly, his hand shot out and slapped her. Then the other side. Bryony looked at him with wide eyes.

Meanwhile, a few more guests had come into the room and stood lining the wall in a circle, sipping champagne. Harriet was also there. She was still wearing her dress.

The sheikh had apparently worked enough now and offered the whip to the group. Another guest took it and continued to hit Bryony. "There but for the Grace..." Georgie thought.

"Now a short break, please, ladies and gentlemen," the torturer announced.

He brought out four small tubes, which looked like test tubes and turned out to be vacuum pumps. He attached these to Bryony's and Bronwen's breasts. Then he took Tom's shackles off and tied his hands behind his back with handcuffs.

"We now come to the main attraction in this theme room: The Mousetrap! The slave must trigger this mousetrap himself with his penis. He has five minutes to do so."

The mousetrap stood on a wine barrel, so it was at about the same height as Tom's penis.

"If the trap is not triggered after five minutes, his backside will be branded." The torturer gested with his chin towards the glowing hot forge, in which, Georgie only now noticed, branding irons were stuck.

Sweat stood on Tom's brow. Was that really just a mousetrap? Looked damn big for one. More like a rat trap.

The torturer just demonstrated the trap with a cucumber he had borrowed from a guest: the trap snapped shut, the cucumber was cut in two.

Georgie noticed that Gwen had disappeared. Then she saw movements under the sheikh's robe - Gwen was under there, giving him a blowjob!

The German woman had also noticed this, and it had given her an idea. She ordered Georgie to her and pushed her to her knees. Georgie had already disappeared under her dress and had to lick the German woman's hairy pussy. It was already soaking wet. Georgie would have liked to see what happened next, but she had to obey, of course.

Then a loud click - the trap had apparently snapped shut. A little applause, but more like disappointment. The woman was moaning now and clearly coming. Georgie, her face dripping, was allowed to re-emerge. Tom was now chained up again, his dick still attached and apparently unharmed, but Bronwen was now kneeling in front of two mousetraps - this time really mousetraps, significantly smaller. Her nipples were very long due to the vacuum pump.

"One minute left!" shouted the torturer and busied himself at the forge. Bronwen squeezed her eyes shut and placed her left nipple in the trap, which snapped shut and clamped onto her nipple. Bronwen screamed loudly.

"Thirty seconds!"

Georgie realized that both traps had to be triggered in that time. Still whimpering, Bronwen moved towards the trap, but couldn't bring herself to subject her other breast to this pain.

"Time's up," said the torturer and chained Bronwen back to the ceiling, the trap still on her left breast. He now stood in front of her with the glowing branding iron. "Now comes the prize!"

He stood behind her. "Which side should it be?"

"Right!" shouted the sheikh.

"Right it is," confirmed the torturer and pressed the glowing hot iron into Bronwen's right buttock. It sizzled, and there was a smell of burnt flesh. Bronwen was silent. Only with a five-second delay did she let out a loud scream and then collapsed, hanging only in her shackles. A deep red skull now adorned Bronwen's backside. She howled and cried incessantly. Two more torturers came in to put a gag on her. This earned applause from the guests, who felt disturbed; they wanted to concentrate on Bryony's encounter with the mousetraps.

These lay ready; Bryony knelt before the wine barrel, hands tied behind her back. Slowly, she brought her left breast into position, approached the trap, but pulled her breast back again. Displeasure from the audience. The next time she got closer.

"Three minutes left," the torturer warned her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and placed her breast on the trap's trigger. It snapped shut but jumped away from her; her breast tissue was spared.

"Two minutes."

Bryony wanted to do the same with the other breast, just pressed it onto the trap, but this time not only the nipple but quite a lot of breast tissue was caught. She was fixed back to the floor and ceiling as she was, with the trap on her breast.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the torturer addressed the guests, "we'll give the slaves a short break of fifteen minutes now. After that, they will be treated for half an hour with rods, light whips, and electric wands - everyone can join in. Then we'll move on to the next round with fresh mousetraps..."

Many guests turned to leave, as did the Arab-German group Georgie had joined. Gwen was also naked by now - the sheikh and Hans led her between them and made their way to a private chamber. Georgie still heard Hans say to the sheikh: "I'm really very grateful that you're letting me have a go too..."

Georgie herself found herself surrounded by about five men who were feeling her breasts - a hand was in her crotch. The German woman "rescued" her. "Come on, let's see what the gentlemen are planning to do with Gwen!" When Georgie made to go with her, displeasure arose in the group of men. But the German woman was resolute. "I asked first, wait your turn!"

As they came out of the theme room, they saw the sheikh's keffiyeh disappearing through a door. As she followed the German woman, Georgie looked around the ballroom. There was a lot going on here. Various pleasure slaves lay on the chaises longues strategically placed around the room, being used by their masters and their friends. Robert was in the process of giving a man a blowjob, only inadequately hidden behind a screen. Robert was completely naked. But by then, Georgie was already in one of the private chambers. Gwen was in the process of undressing the sheikh and wasn't being very skillful about it. Hans was already naked. He had a very small dick. The woman ordered Georgie to blow him. Georgie obeyed. When he was erect, she was laid on her stomach next to Gwen - the sheikh was energetically fucking her - and Hans penetrated her anus without much ceremony. It hurt. Hans didn't seem to like it either and instead let Gwen give him a blowjob. She spat his dick out in disgust - despite the enema Georgie had had the day before, it probably didn't taste very good now...

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 5: The Anniversary Ball 2

Zootopia

Georgie wasn't sure how long this mini-orgy had lasted. But now the guests were getting dressed again. The sheikh asked Gwen which theme room she wanted to go to next. "Shouldn't we go back to the Mousetrap? I found it very stimulating that the slaves had to torture themselves, so to speak..." asked the German woman, who, by the way, was named Karin. Georgie had found that out while she was fucking her husband, while she herself had to lick his asshole. The man had groaned "Karin, Karin."

Gwen said the "Zootopia" room sounded interesting. So they all made their way there. The action was already in full swing. Two girls, Georgie recognized Yasmeena and the little Tyron, were sitting on wooden ponies. Their hands tied behind their backs, their toes just reached the floor, so they could just barely lift their private parts off the sharp edge of the pony. Until their feet couldn't take it anymore. Georgie knew this from her own experience. The girls' bodies had clearly already been chastised. Both girls also had mouth spreaders on, so their mouths were wide open. In this room, a man dressed as a stable boy was in charge, who was currently in the process of shoveling caterpillars and small beetles into the girls' open mouths with a spoon. Georgie now also saw that various worms, bugs, and spiders were on the students' naked bodies. Each spoonful was wildly applauded and cheered by the guests standing against the walls. The insects crawled out of their mouths and around on the girls' faces.

"How long has this been going on?" Karin asked one of the other guests. "This is the second round already. The first one was without the ponies; they just hung from the ceiling and spiders crawled up them after we had whipped them thoroughly. This session goes on until one of them falls off. A very special punishment is planned for her, the stablehand says. Ahem, can I borrow your slave," he gested at Georgie, "for a moment?"

"She's not my slave at all," Karin laughed, "I just, so to speak, adopted her. So please, don't hold back!"

Georgie had to get on all fours on a pile of gym mats (there were plenty of them lying around in the ballroom and the theme rooms for this very purpose). The man, he introduced himself as "Sir Roger" (probably a "stage name," Georgie thought), explored her vagina with his fingers. It was soaking wet, and before she knew it, he had penetrated her from behind. He continued to watch the proceedings; Georgie now also had the best view while he copulated with her rhythmically but slowly.

The stable boy was now handing out plastic syringes to the guests. Karin managed to get one. "I thought Pins and Needles was next door," she said, but then noticed that the syringe had no needle at all but was closed at one end with a cork. Inside the syringe itself sat a wasp.

Karin immediately recognized what to do. While the other guests were still pondering, she had already pulled out the cork and placed the open end of the syringe on the little Tyron's right nipple (the reader will remember that she was still very underdeveloped and barely had breasts or pubic hair. Her nipples, however, were very pronounced and quite long). The wasp, however, didn't play along - it just sat in the syringe. Karin now slowly pushed the plunger in - the wasp had less and less space and was soon sitting on Tyron's nipple.

But instead of stinging, it began to nibble on Tyron! Tyron whimpered loudly, the horror clearly visible in her eyes.

The plunger came closer, threatening to crush the wasp. Then it finally defended itself, stinging Tyron's nipple. She lost her balance, and although Karin tried to catch her, she slipped sideways and was held only by her ankle shackles. At that moment, Georgie felt Sir Roger ejaculate inside her - the man had very good timing, you had to give him that.

"Tyron has lost," the stable master announced. Both girls were untied.

"There will now be a short break - we need to free the girls from pests and the room as well. But please come back in ten minutes to see Tyron's punishment! You pleasure slaves," he turned to Georgie and Gwen, "can help me, then it'll be quicker!"

The sheikh refused to make Gwen available, and so it was left to Georgie to collect the insects while the stablehand showered the two girls in the next room. Georgie had real problems with insects, and the wasp was still buzzing excitedly around the room. The other insects had no wings, and Georgie managed to herd most of them back into boxes with a dustpan and brush. It didn't help that Sir Roger's sperm was dripping out of her vagina as she did so...

The stablehand had a few helpers with him when he returned with the two girls. The helpers first carried the wooden ponies out of the room, through a door that led directly outside. Then they dragged in two wooden frames from outside: one was quite large, the other was about the size of an Eastminster punishment bench. Yasmeena now had to lie on the smaller one - her legs were fixed at the top of the frame so that both her holes were very visible and accessible.

Tyron, the loser, had to kneel on the larger frame. She was then strapped against a padded board that was fastened above her back. She was now hanging from this board. Both legs were bent and also fastened to the board. The board was very sturdily attached; the entire frame was made of solid wood reinforced with iron, which was why the men had had quite a bit of trouble getting it into the room. So little Tyron hung from this frame, her vagina invitingly open. The two frames next to each other were quite an unusual sight!

Now the stable boy opened the door again. The audience seemed to have disappeared. "Get someone to make an announcement," the stable boy said to one of his helpers, who sprinted off. Slowly, a few guests wandered back into the Zootopia room. One asked if it was allowed to fuck the girls. "Go ahead," said the stable boy. The man had his eye on Tyron, but had to pile up some mats to reach her vagina with his penis. But then he penetrated her easily and moved rhythmically. Another guest ordered Georgie to give him a handjob while he watched Tyron being fucked.

"We invite all guests to witness the punishment of little Tyron - in the Zootopia theme room! This punishment is something very special, never before seen at this school, it's worth it! The torture of the winner, Yasmeena, starts right away - Tyron's punishment then in a good quarter of an hour!" echoed through all the rooms. It was that professional entertainer from yesterday again, Georgie thought, while doing her best to bring the guest to climax with her hand.

The room filled up. It was much larger than the "Mousetrap" and was set up like a stable, with bales of straw, feeding troughs, etc. Everyone had space - some sat on top of a stack of straw bales. Everyone was in a good mood - the champagne continued to flow in streams. Meanwhile, some guests were also holding exotic-looking cocktails in their hands.

The stable boy and the helpers went around offering small tongs to the guests. With these, everyone was allowed to fish a slug out of a bucket and place it on Yasmeena's body. The guest whom Georgie was currently servicing didn't miss out either: he placed the slug on Yasmeena's right breast. Others were even less squeamish - two landed in her - still forcibly spread wide open - mouth, several also in her pubic area. The highlight of Yasmeena's ordeal, however, came after about ten minutes: the stable boy took a snake out of a basket, the tail of which he then slowly and deliberately inserted into Yasmeena's vagina. It was a short adder - it fit almost completely inside Yasmeena. Its head peeked out from between her labia - it looked as if the girl had a penis with eyes and a nose!

The snake, however, was in a great hurry to get out of the girl again, and the stable boy collected it. But he left the disgusting slugs on her body.

"We now come to the punishment of little Tyron!" he shouted to the crowd. The outer door opened, and two helpers led an extremely small horse - Georgie, an incurable horse fanatic, recognized it as a Falabella stallion - into the room.

"This stallion will now mount Tyron!" the stable boy announced. Then he conferred with his helpers. Georgie realized: there was a problem. The stallion was not in the mood - his penis hung limply. The helpers rubbed his nose between Tyron's legs, then between Yasmeena's - it was no use. "Hmm, he should actually be ready," grumbled one of the helpers.

The stable boy pointed at Georgie, who was still jacking off the guest: "You, pleasure slave, we need your help. You're doing that so well, you can do it with the horse too!"

Georgie couldn't believe it: she was supposed to jack off the horse now? Four helpers held the animal from all sides. Georgie, who knew about horses, still considered the action very dangerous. She approached the penis, touched it... no reaction. "With your mouth!" shouted one of the guests. Georgie made no move to obey, and the stablehand snapped at her: "A guest gave you an order! Obey, or would you rather take Tyron's place?"

Under this threat, Georgie then took the long, but limp penis into her mouth at the tip. And indeed: it grew. And how! When fully stiff, it finally had dimensions that even a very well-endowed black man could only look at with envy. Georgie estimated about 35 cm and very thick. The horse became restless and began to snort. With the help of straw bales, the stable boy and his helpers managed to place its front legs on the wooden slat above the board Tyron was strapped to. The stallion was now in mating position and sought the entrance to Tyron's vagina. The girl screamed in fear. The scream intensified as the stallion finally penetrated her. He was not exactly gentle about it. Once inside, he began to thrust. Tyron didn't stop screaming, although her screams were almost drowned out by the cheers of the guests. Georgie had to satisfy two guests at the same time with her hands while a third penetrated her from behind. He came at the same moment the stallion shot half a liter of horse sperm into Tyron's uterus. Then the horse climbed off the frame on its own and let itself be led outside. Tyron's vagina gaped wide open like a large wound. Blood dripped from it.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your attention," the stable boy announced. "Both slaves will now be hung on St. Andrew's crosses and can be tortured by you with whips, rods, and wasp stings. Both will be moved to the fetish room around 11 p.m. tonight. Tickets for that can still be purchased..."

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 6: The Anniversary Ball 3

Mousetrap - The Sequel

Georgie still hadn't found any trace of Charles. Now, in the general departure, she had a chance to move freely. Her gaze roamed, searching. Then she saw the entrance to the "Mousetrap." She wondered how the three had fared and quickly ran down the stairs. Eight guests, two of them with pleasure slaves who were in the process of blowing their masters, sat expectantly in leather armchairs. The two girls each had two mousetraps clamped to their nipples. Their leg irons had now been adjusted so that their legs were spread wide. It was noticeable that both girls had above-average large clitorises, which protruded somewhat from their outer labia.

The torturer explained what would happen next: "Both slaves must now willingly stick out their tongues so I can snap a trap shut on them. If they refuse, I will brand them. If they continue to refuse, I will brand them again. Until they allow it. Afterward, we will attach a trap to each of their clitorises, they are big enough for that!"

Panic in their eyes, Bryony and Bronwen shook their heads. The traps were small mousetraps - it would certainly hurt, but it probably wouldn't cause any permanent damage. Bronwen knew what it meant to be branded, and stuck out her tongue, trembling. A "click" and a mousetrap hung from it.

Bryony, however, shook her head and kept her lips pressed together.

"I'll give you 10 seconds," said the torturer. "The brands are permanent, and I'll let the audience decide which part of you I brand! Think it over carefully!"

Hesitantly, Bryony stuck out her tongue. He approached her with the trap, but at the decisive moment, she pulled her tongue back in, so the trap snapped shut ineffectively.

The torturer turned to the audience: "Where should the brand go?" "Buttocks," shouted one; "Thigh," another; "Left breast," shouted a woman with a French accent. Bryony became frantic.

"Who is for breast?" Three hands went up. "Thigh?" Only one hand. "Ass?" Three hands. The torturer turned to the man who had voted for thigh. "Breast or ass?" Everyone held their breath. "Well then, br... I mean ass," said the man with a wicked grin. Georgie breathed a sigh of relief. Bryony too.

The torturer took a branding iron from the forge and pressed it onto Bryony's bottom. It sizzled and smelled of burnt flesh.

"Next time it's the breast!" he warned her, as he approached her face again with the trap. This time the tongue stayed out, the trap snapped shut.

Afterward, he attached two more traps to the two clitorises in the same way - with Bryony, whose clitoris was somewhat smaller than Bronwen's, he only succeeded after three attempts. Both screamed loudly when the trap snapped shut. All traps remained where they were.

"And now to Tom!" said the torturer. "So far, Tom has completely avoided having the trap snap shut on his penis. That will change in this round. Here are five traps set up - he has five minutes to let one of them snap shut on his penis - the trap must then hang from his penis. If he doesn't manage that, he will be branded, and I will personally snap the largest of the five traps shut on his penis."

Tom approached the smallest trap with his still-stiff penis. The traps got progressively larger - the fifth one was almost a badger trap!

With great concentration, Tom laid his penis on the small board that would trigger the trap. It snapped shut, clamping onto his glans. He screamed in pain, but then the trap released again - his glans was too wet and slippery.

The torturer commented on the events: "We have calculated that the first two traps are very painful but won't cause any major damage. The third one could cause a penile fracture. The fourth one would almost certainly do that, but could also sever the member entirely. The fifth one would definitely do that."

Georgie felt sorry for Tom. But what could she do, other than watch, fascinated? Right, sit on one of the guests who had exposed his dick and was waving her over. While she rode him, Tom approached the second trap. His penis was directly in position, over the trigger board. He pressed it down, the trap sprang, but in reflex, Tom had pulled his penis away. Nothing again! Now it was getting really serious. The third trap was the rat trap from earlier in the evening again. It had a metal trigger. Tom knew that this trap could destroy his penis. Nevertheless, he placed not the glans, but the shaft of his penis against the trigger and pressed. The click of the snapping trap was loud. Again, he had recoiled in reflex, but this time the trap had still caught his glans. It was slightly burst and bloody. He took a step back, his face contorted in pain. The trap hung from his member, but as it slipped from the barrel, it detached from his glans and fell to the floor. Tom looked at the torturer in horror.

"Trap No. 4," the torturer said, unmoved. But then a guest who was sitting next to Georgie intervened: "He clearly did everything he was supposed to. It's not his fault if your equipment is no good!"

"I... groan... see it... groan... that way too," wheezed the man on whose dick Georgie was currently sitting, as he circled his dick around in Georgie's vagina.

The torturer looked uncertain. "Rules are rules," he muttered. "I'd have to ask Mr. Fortescue..."

Other guests were annoyed by the two men's interference. "What's it got to do with you? I want to see him have to castrate himself..." hissed the woman with the French accent. She was probably around 50. But then the five minutes were up. Tom was chained up again.

"You can decide: the trap first or the branding iron first," the torturer asked him. The man next to Georgie had disappeared - Georgie assumed he had gone in search of Mr. Fortescue.

"Brand me first," Tom said through tears. The torturer asked the audience: "Right or left?" "Right," screamed the Frenchwoman.

The torturer took the branding iron from the forge and held the glowing skull in front of Tom's nose. Then he stepped behind him and pressed the iron onto Tom's right buttock. Again a loud sizzle, again the smell of burnt flesh.

The man on whose penis Georgie was sitting had meanwhile come to climax and pushed her off. He pulled up his pants and said: "The gentleman has gone to fetch Mr. Fortescue. Surely you can wait that long!"

"Shut up!" shrieked the Frenchwoman.

The torturer held the huge "badger trap" in his hand, somewhat undecided.

The Frenchwoman's husband chimed in: "We are both great patrons of this school. We will withdraw our support if there's cheating here! Rules are rules!"

The torturer shrugged. "Okay then..." He positioned the trap under Tom's penis. He carefully lifted the penis and was about to let it fall onto the trigger mechanism when Mr. Fortescue entered the room. "What's going on here? Stop that!" The torturer pulled the trap back.

Mr. Fortescue listened to what those present had to say and then said: "It seems clear to me that Tom tried to follow the instructions. He wasn't particularly clever about it. But due to the guests' interference - surely well-intentioned, on both sides, I'm not criticizing at all - time passed that he then no longer had. And he's already punished enough with the brand. I suggest he be allowed to try the third trap one more time! After that, however, there will be no mercy!"

Tom was untied and now walked, trembling, towards the trap. He held onto the other side of the barrel with one hand to prevent himself from flinching back reflexively. Then he held his penis over the metal trigger. He lifted it high and then let go. His penis shot down onto the trigger, the trap was sprung and landed in the middle of his penis shaft. The penis remained stiff - he had suffered no permanent damage, although his scream suggested otherwise. The guests applauded.

Tom was tied up again, and the guests began to chastise all three slaves with light whips and canes. Georgie left the room, half disgusted, half relieved.

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 7: The Anniversary Ball 4

DIY Workshop

Georgie was thoroughly disturbed by what had happened in the "Mousetrap." She ran out quickly and sat down on a chaise longue. Not a good idea. Immediately, a man sat down next to her, ordered her to spread her legs, and then fucked her through. When he was finished, the next one was already in line. And so it continued.

By now it was ten o'clock, and she still hadn't found Charles. Layla was currently being dragged past Georgie - who was being wildly fucked by an at-least-70-year-old American - by her master. Naked, he had put a collar on her. "Do you have any idea where they're torturing Charles?" she shouted to her.

Layla just shouted "DIY" back, then she was gone in the crowd.

When the old man let go of her, he asked her, in his Southern accent: "Are you interested in DIY? My wife is there, I think - want to come along?"

And so Georgie, in the tow of Senator Mick McBommel, came to the "DIY" theme room. It was set up like a workshop... workbench, planing bench, tool cabinet. Several vises.

Charles stood, naked of course, in front of a wooden workbench that seemed strangely low to Georgie, who, however, had no idea about DIY. Charles didn't seem to be tied up, which surprised Georgie. The American woman she had met at the very beginning of the ball stood in front of him, seeming fascinated by his penis. The Senator and Georgie joined the woman. Then they saw why it wasn't necessary to tie Charles down: his scrotum was nailed to the workbench with many small nails. The skin was stretched wide, so his scrotum looked like a piece of fabric in an embroidery hoop. Only his testicles protruded, like the yolk of a fried egg - otherwise, the skin was stretched flat.

"I hammered in three nails myself," said Mick's wife proudly.

Now Georgie also saw that on the opposite side of the room, so you didn't notice it when you came in, there was another workbench. Flora was kneeling in front of it - the skin of her breasts was, similar to Charles's, fastened to the workbench with small nails.

"I helped with that too!" Mick's wife shouted.

The room was supervised by a man dressed as a carpenter, with black overalls and a white shirt, hammer and pliers in his front pocket.

He called a waiter, who had just refreshed the Americans' drinks, over to him: "Have an announcement run - it's totally dead in here. The highlight of the evening is coming up soon, and there's not a single dick here!"

Not really true, Georgie thought, and looked extensively at Charles's dick, which lay stiffly on the workbench. Charles was obviously embarrassed, even though Georgie was also naked and clearly had sperm dripping from her vagina.

"Ladies and gentlemen, most of the theme rooms have already come to an end - the grand finale is only pending in two: DIY and Sherwood Forest. If you visit the DIY room, you'll still have time to witness the final of the tournament in Sherwood Forest!"

Meanwhile, an old acquaintance had appeared in the DIY room: Dr. Bennet. He was armed with a felt-tip pen, with which he had made a dot on Charles's penis. He impressed upon the carpenter: "Now really, here, and only here, okay? Otherwise, I'll have even more work to do down in the infirmary. I don't know if I'm coming or going as it is..."

He went over to Flora. "With her, it's not so important where it goes. I'll send Mike by, just in case. I have to get back now."

Now the "workshop" filled up rapidly with guests. Orderly Mike discretely joined them. He had dressed up especially so as not to stand out, tails and white bow tie. He stood out all the more: it was after 10, most of the guests looked as if they had taken their clothes on and off several times, if they were clothed at all. But everyone had champagne or martini glasses in their hands!

"Honored guests," the carpenter addressed the crowd. "You have all had the opportunity to hammer one or more nails into our slaves. Many of you have also shortened their time in our dungeon with whips, canes, and paddles."

Georgie imagined how painful it must have been to be whipped and beaten while being fixed to a workbench with a multitude of nails.

"We now come to the highlight of the evening: we will drive one large, thick nail each through Flora's nipples and Charles's penis. Afterward, the evening here will wind down with whips and canes... I'm now looking for volunteers, who must already have DIY experience, because the nails are heavy, and so is the hammer!"

Several men volunteered, including the Senator. He was the first choice.

The carpenter showed him roughly where he should place the nail. Flora was just sobbing incessantly. To stop this, Mick was briefly halted while a ball gag was stuffed into her mouth and then additionally sealed with adhesive tape.

Then Mick positioned the first nail - at least three millimeters thick and fifteen centimeters long. The first blow, however, didn't hit the nail, but Mick's thumb. He stifled the pain, tried a second time. Again, he missed the nail - instead, he hit Flora's breast tissue. "Sorry!" he said to the desperate girl, as this time he aimed particularly carefully and drove the nail through her nipple into the wood. Four or five more blows, and the nail was firmly set. In Alabama, they know how to handle a hammer!

Another man set the second nail, this time without mishaps (except, of course, for Flora). Flora was now firmly nailed to the board!

Now Mick's wife was wildly signaling. "Me, me, me! I want to nail Charles!" This led to great laughter (because in English, the sentence "I want to nail Charles" is much more clearly ambiguous than in German). She got her wish. The carpenter impressed upon her to aim exactly at the felt-tip pen dot, as otherwise, a corpus cavernosum could burst.

She took aim, aimed (closing one eye), and struck, though she hit Charles's glans, not the nail. His scream led to him being gagged as well. Mick watched his wife while playing with Georgie's breasts from behind, rubbing his already stiff-again dick (Viagra? Georgie wondered) against her back.

On the second blow, the carpenter held the nail steady with combination pliers so that the woman could concentrate fully on the hammer. She hit it, too, but not with enough force - the nail slipped and only scratched the skin. Then the carpenter took matters into his own hands, much to the American woman's displeasure. He set the nail and, with one mighty blow, drove the nail through Charles's penis and deep into the workbench. The guests applauded.

"Now, quickly to Sherwood Forest," Mick said, pulling his wife and Georgie after him.

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 8: The Anniversary Ball 5

Sherwood Forest

Sherwood Forest wasn't a forest at all, but a long corridor, at one end of which Imogen and Ailsa were tied to St. Andrew's crosses, so tightly that they couldn't move an inch. She only knew who they were because name tags were placed above them - they were both wearing face masks. Otherwise, they were, of course, naked. They were covered all over in red spots - Georgie didn't immediately recognize where they came from. But then she heard a hiss and a projectile hit Ailsa on the left thigh.

"A near miss is as good as a mile," shouted a man dressed as Robin Hood. "Sir Roger can clinch it with the next shot!"

Now Georgie saw that at the far end of the corridor, two archers were standing. Sir Roger, whom she already knew, was currently aiming at Imogen.

"Is his name really 'Sir Roger'?" she asked Mick.

"Yes, it is. Sir Roger Trinton. He's a leading Brexiteer and received a knighthood after the referendum. I also thought it was a joke at first," he replied.

Again the hiss - the projectile hit Imogen's breast, right on the nipple.

"40 points, with that Sir Roger wins the second semi-final!" Robin announced.

Georgie now saw that the arrows had a blunt rubber tip at the end. But being hit by them still hurt, judging by Imogen's reaction.

"The final begins immediately: Sir Roger against Mr. White. The winner has the choice between several prizes:

1. The right to choose a girls' or boys' dormitory of the school, and there, to sexually use any or all students at will.

2. The free choice between all students of the school who are currently resting in their beds - he may choose one and use and torture them at will today and tomorrow. We also have some virgins certified by Dr. Bennet on offer!

3. A leading role in the highlight of the ball, which will be communicated to the winner in confidence.

The loser has the second choice among these prizes."

Georgie was astonished. She had thought that all students who hadn't been "chosen" were safe. Apparently not! And what could the "highlight of the ball" be?

Robin continued: "Some guests have just joined us. For them, the rules again. Everyone has four shots, two at each slave. The targets are scored as follows:

Nipple, 100 points,

Areola, 40 points,

Breast, 20 points,

Labia, 100 points.

As a reminder: In the final, unlike the preliminary rounds, real arrows will be used - but at this distance, they will penetrate the body by at most one centimeter."

Well, great, Georgie thought. That will surely reassure Imogen and Ailsa...

Sir Roger now fired the first arrow at Imogen. Her breasts were slightly larger than Ailsa's, and her areolas accordingly, so no one was surprised that he aimed for the breast. But he only hit Imogen's shoulder - the arrow stuck. A thin trickle of blood ran down and over Imogen's left breast.

Mr. White had also already shot - Georgie hadn't even noticed. The arrow had missed Ailsa completely.

It was Sir Roger's turn again. This time he hit more accurately - the arrow was stuck in Imogen's left breast, very close to her areola. Robin looked at it more closely, but then ruled only 20 points.

Mr. White's second arrow hit Ailsa in the stomach. The wound bled a bit more, but that didn't seem to bother anyone.

Now the "targets" were swapped. Sir Roger aimed at Ailsa; the arrow flew through her legs. Only centimeters were missing, and it would have hit her vagina.

Mr. White shot at Imogen and hit her in the right breast. The score was 20:20.

Sir Roger didn't want to take any risks and now aimed at Ailsa's breast - and even hit her areola. The score, as Robin sonorously announced, was 40:20. Mr. White had to follow suit and hit Imogen's right breast for the second time.

"It's a tie!" Robin announced. "If the gentlemen can agree on which prize they prefer, we can leave it at that. Otherwise, we go into a shoot-off."

Robin and the two archers conferred - what was said couldn't be heard.

Someone tapped Georgie on the shoulder from behind. "Hey, we know each other!" said a young man, no, actually an older boy, who was standing behind her.

"Not that I know of," Georgie replied.

"Yes, on your very first morning here. You looked pretty rough. I like you much better now. Please get on all fours, I'd like to go in your back."

"From behind, you mean?"

"No, the back. I've had a lot from behind today, so your back entrance might just be tight enough for me! And use the formal 'you' with me, if you please!"

"As you wish." Georgie got on all fours. Nicely, the boy smeared lubricant on her rosette and on his member, so he could penetrate her relatively easily. He began to pump.

Robin now spoke up again: "We have no agreement - both want a leading role in the highlight of the evening!" he announced. "In the shoot-off, the archers may move two meters closer to the target. Whoever is ahead after two shots, wins. Ailsa is the target for the first two shots."

The distance now seemed dangerously small to Georgie. Sir Roger aimed and hit Ailsa's areola. The arrow penetrated deep into her breast and stuck. To Georgie's astonishment, the wound didn't bleed.

Now Mr. White sent the decisive arrow. He hit the nipple exactly. Again, the arrow penetrated deep, and again, it didn't bleed, although Ailsa cried out loudly. Mr. White had won.

Robin announced that Mr. White would have the leading role in the evening, and that Sir Roger had chosen Option 1 - the sexual use of an entire dormitory. However, he would only redeem the prize at a later time. "He says he needs to recover first, otherwise he won't get anything out of it," Robin said, to the amusement of those present.

Georgie felt the boy ejaculate into her intestine at that moment. "Just in time," he said, while she licked and sucked his member clean (she could now understand Gwen - it really didn't taste good), "you have to go to the fetish room now, after all. Maybe I'll stop by later!"

Georgie made her way.

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 9: The Anniversary Ball 6

Cave of Perversions

Georgie arrived breathless in the fetish room. Above the stairs leading down hung a sign "Cave of Perversions." All theme rooms except Zootopia were still open, even if the main program points were over. So, in Sherwood Forest, they continued to shoot at girls with bows and arrows; in the DIY workshop, Charles and Flora, nailed to workbenches, were still being tormented with whips, sticks, and electric wands; in the "Pins and Needles" room, Georgie had learned from Harriet, two girls were still being misused as pincushions - the highlight of the evening had been that they each had a long needle stuck through both breasts, as well as two short needles through their clitorises. Georgie would have liked to see that, but she had no time because she had to go to this damn fetish room.

There was no one here. Just a large gym mat and quite a few small gym mats and some frames that were reminiscent of the Eastminster punishment benches. There was no trace of Tyron and Yasmeena, who were supposed to be transferred here from Zootopia. Now a man came in, dressed as a lifeguard. "No one here yet? You must be Georgie, right?"

"That's right. May I ask what is expected of me here?"

"I'll tell you. For now, it's enough if you get on this fucking frame. You'll be accessible from both sides then. So we can get some people in here..."

He showed Georgie how to get on the frame - she lay with her stomach on a padded surface, her legs were tied on each side, so she was completely open. Her breasts hung down, but her shoulders lay on two pads, so that she could hold the position, even if not comfortably. Next to her knees were two footboards, under her another padded surface. Her arms were free, but she was fixed around the stomach; more to keep from falling off than to prevent her escape.

Meanwhile, she heard the announcement over the loudspeaker system that "Georgina the three-hole mare" was waiting in the fetish room to be mounted. The first men were already coming in. The first one immediately opened his pants and penetrated her vagina. But he was called back by the lifeguard:

"For vaginal intercourse, please lie on the lower gurney. It's easy..." He rolled it out, the man could lie on it and was now in perfect position under Georgie. The lifeguard operated two levers, and his dick slid - precision work - into her vagina. He began to move inside her. Meanwhile, a man had stood in front of her face and dropped his pants. She took his limp member into her mouth - but it showed no signs of getting hard. She concentrated so hard on what she was doing (at both ends) that she didn't even notice that on either side of her, two more men had dropped their pants. Without waiting for a request, she began to give them both handjobs. She now felt someone step onto the footboards and place his penis between her buttocks. A thrust, and he was in her rectum. So Georgie was now being fucked from below in the vagina and from above in the bottom, while she was servicing two men with her hands and another with her mouth. Multitasking was capitalized at this school! She had to concentrate hard to make sure everyone got their money's worth. It was definitely exhausting, but on the other hand, she found it totally hot to be treated like a piece of meat.

Meanwhile, Tyron and Yasmeena had also arrived. "They're no use for fucking anymore..." the lifeguard said, looking at Tyron's bloody and stretched vagina. "At least not in this state!" He brought in something that looked like an uninflated rubber dinghy. "Here, blow this up. Georgie is blowing right now, too!"

Soon they were both sitting on the floor, blowing into the various valves. Georgie saw out of the corner of her eye that what they were inflating was a kiddie pool. Ah, she thought, that's why he's dressed as a lifeguard! There's going to be swimming fun soon! Nude, hooray!

Meanwhile, three men had come in her mouth, or on her face, two on her back, two in her ass, and one in her vagina. The quintet that was being satisfied by her three holes and two hands had already changed completely twice. This is probably what social scientists and doctors call "promiscuous sexual contact." But what could Georgie do about it? She hadn't chosen this hellish, perverse, and violent school, after all. Yes, she had. She could have just gone back to her parents... At that moment, with three dicks inside her and two in her hands, she realized that this was the only way to get out of here unharmed. She had to get away. Away from this school.

Her lower two holes, she noticed, had been empty for a while. Liquefying sperm itched everywhere. The last two she had jacked off, however, hadn't come in her hands, but in her vagina and her ass... now she was just blowing one last guest. When he came - not in her mouth but on her face, like in a porno - the lifeguard let her get off the frame. Only now did she notice that the room had filled up. Good champagne was still being drunk, but by now many guests had switched to water. Probably wanted to be conscious for the big "highlight"... hydrate, hydrate, hydrate, she knew from her own experience, was very important.

"Come on, jump in the pool, you can't go among people like that," said the lifeguard with a broad grin. "We'll wash all the juice and slime off you. You two, you've inflated it well, as thanks, you can wash yourselves too - you really need it!"

That was true. Little Tyron still had the now-dried horse sperm sticking to her leg, and both were covered in snail slime. Soon all three were sitting in the paddling pool.

"Well, then I'll make a start!" said the lifeguard and opened his fly. He pulled out his dick, aimed at little Tyron, and began to piss on her. Soon it was a strong stream. Tyron wanted to get away, but by now the pool was surrounded by guests who stopped her and roughly pushed her back into the pool. The lifeguard's stream continued - it still hit Tyron mainly, but Georgie, disgusted, also got quite a few drops that had bounced off Tyron. To Georgie's horror, many other men now also opened their pants and began to piss into the pool from the outside. Even two or three women did the same. One of them was Karin, who no longer looked as neat as at the beginning of the evening. She also saw the sheikh and Karin's husband. Both aimed mainly at her, although Tyron and Yasmeena couldn't exactly complain of being neglected. Now the young guy who had fucked Georgie in the ass was also standing at the edge of the pool.

"Hey, Georgie, this won't do. Come here and open your mouth!"

Georgie was incredibly disgusted, but she knew she had to obey. She crawled through the pool, which was now filled half a finger's width with piss, over to him, turned her face to him, and opened her mouth. He dropped his pants and aimed his stiff dick at her mouth. It took him a few seconds, then a powerful stream erupted from him and landed in Georgie's mouth.

"Swallow!" he commanded, but Georgie couldn't do it that fast. She had also been fighting the urge to vomit for some time.

There was no more space at the edge of the pool - shoulder to shoulder the guests stood there, pissing on the three girls. When someone was finished, he was replaced by another guest. Would this never end? Everyone had been drinking alcohol all evening... that didn't make things any more pleasant. But why had there only been asparagus snacks with the canapés? That really wasn't necessary... but it was probably diabolical calculation...

All three girls didn't have a dry square centimeter on them. When the guests ran out of piss, the pool was well-filled.

The lifeguard spoke up: "Now that we've all relieved ourselves, maybe we want to take a quick shower and freshen up for the highlight of the evening. It will start in half an hour."

The three girls were also "freshened up" - the lifeguard took them outside, where they were hosed down with a cold stream of water. Afterward, they were also allowed to shower, after which they were led into the main hall. The stage was now uncovered, but not illuminated. One could only dimly see that various torture devices stood on it. Tables and chairs were arranged in a circle around the stage; at the side of the hall, a large buffet was prepared. The guests were all still in their rooms, freshening up.

Between every two tables stood a slightly less elaborate version of the fucking frame on which Georgie had spent the first hour in the fetish room. There seemed to be two different versions, which were then further modifiable; at least Georgie saw a series of levers and wooden screws.

More and more students, wrapped in white bathrobes, now came into the hall. Georgie's eyes searched for Charles, but in vain. Tom was there, though. They all had to line up and were now fixed to a frame one by one. Georgie lay on her stomach, legs spread, breasts hanging free. She would have a good view of the stage, as long as she wasn't blowing someone at that moment. All the other students who were fastened to these frames were torture slaves. Various rods, sticks, paddles, and whips hung from their frames. Good thing she was a pleasure slave, Georgie thought. But then she noticed to her horror that her frame was also equipped this way. She would probably have to reckon with blows and whip lashes as well.

The hall was now filling with guests, all neatly dressed again. But they didn't seem to be as interested in the slaves as in the buffet. You might think this was a wedding reception - only the naked female students (and one naked male student), strapped to torture frames, who stood everywhere between the festively set tables, destroyed this illusion...

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 10: Thanatos

The two tables, which were on either side of the frame Georgie was strapped to, had also filled up. Georgie caught snippets of conversation: "I really feel naked without my phone..." (I'm really sorry for you, thought Georgie, who was really naked and strapped down so that everyone had deep insights into her most intimate holes) ... "Yeah, this is the first time they've taken everyone's phone... seems to be something really great they want to show us..."

One of the men at the table to Georgie's left was already almost finished with dessert. "That girl there seems to have survived the evening better than all the others..." he said to the group. "Most of them seem pretty beaten up..."

"That's true," said one of the women sitting at his table, but just starting her main course. "She was also a pleasure slave, I think. The only one nobody bought - so she was freely available."

"Why did nobody buy her? I don't get it. Even less do I get that I'm only noticing her now..." he said and devoured the last spoonful of his dessert - a vanilla ice cream. "I hurried on purpose - the devil takes the hindmost!"

He stood up and went over to Georgie. His fingers explored her bottom, her breasts, then she heard him unzipping his fly. Without pulling his pants down, he pushed his, by the feel of it very long and thick, member into her vagina.

Similar things were happening all over the room - men stood behind the frames and penetrated the slaves.

"Eating fast really has an advantage..." said another man at the table, somewhat chagrined. "Getting a blowjob would be rather impractical... you want to see what's happening on stage, after all..."

Nevertheless, several other female students had to service two men at once. Georgie was glad that hadn't happened to her yet, as the view of the stage would then be gone.

Waiters were also moving through the hall now, clearing the tables. Soon all the plates were gone, but glasses, well-filled, were still plentiful.

Now the hall slowly grew darker. A drumroll sounded... and then the voice, which sounded very much like a game show host:

"Ladies and gentlemen, honored patrons and guests, the moment you have all been waiting for is here. The highlight of the evening has arrived!"

A cone of light focused on the stage. One could now recognize a wooden block with an axe stuck in it. Next to it, a forge with branding irons in it. Next to it, an iron device that looked like a pyramid - next to it again a wooden horse, but it looked strangely antique... a chair, its seat and back completely spiked with nails... and so on. The torturer we already know was tending the fire in the forge, just adding a log. Then the stage went dark again. A guest clapped tentatively, then others joined in, until everyone was applauding and expressing their approval by cheering.

A door at the other end of the hall opened. A slender figure, a blindfold covering their eyes, dressed in a long, white robe, entered. Georgie couldn't recognize her face, but she had a dark suspicion... the figure had her hands tied behind her back... two men, also dressed as torturers, led her slowly, to rising applause, onto the stage. When she stood on the stage, not five meters away from Georgie, she had the terrible certainty: it was Julie, her former roommate in the infirmary.

"This year, the condemned is Kacey Smith. Until recently, she attended the Upper Fifth. She finds herself in her situation because she is the worst student in the school in two ways. Not only are her academic achievements at rock bottom, she is also a terrible classmate who has treated her fellow students in the worst way and constantly disrupts class. Repeated warnings have had no effect, and so she has been sentenced to death by the school council."

Georgie couldn't believe it. This was surely just a role-play? Then she thought back to the moment when a nail had been driven through Charles's stiff member. She wasn't sure... But that was all a lie. The girl's name was Julie, and she hadn't had the impression of dealing with a delinquent. Sure, Julie was already injured - saving her was only possible on the mainland, and that was too risky for Mr. Fortescue. So this is how he solved the problem! Perfidious!

The audience saw it differently. There was wild applause and cheering.

"Not only will Kacey be executed today, we want to do our best to ensure this happens in a way that is as entertaining as possible for all of us, right?"

Assenting roars.

"Our executioner tonight is the winner of the archery contest, Mr. Andrew White!"

Mr. White came on stage, also dressed as a torturer. Martial music accompanied his arrival.

Behind Georgie, a small drama was also playing out: "How long do you intend to monopolize the slave? You must be finished by now!"

"I am not! Not by a long shot! Leave me alone, damn it!"

"Well, then let's ask the little one! Has the guy come yet?"

"No," Georgie said truthfully. The man had barely moved inside her - somewhat to her frustration. However, when Julie came on stage, lustful thoughts had vanished from Georgie's brain anyway.

The second man trotted off, sulking.

In the meantime, Mr. White had removed Julie's blindfold. She looked around anxiously. Mr. White undid her shackles. He then pulled off her white robe, so she finally stood naked before the crowd.

She had beautiful, medium-sized breasts, a flat stomach, a vagina covered with thick blonde pubic hair, and long, slender legs. Her long, blonde hair fell over her bottom.

The voice spoke up again: "It will now proceed in three phases. First, the condemned will be chastised and humiliated. Following that, we will test our historical collection of torture instruments, which you see assembled on the stage, on her. In the third phase, we will then publicly execute the condemned in a manner that Mr. White will decide."

At that moment, Julie jumped off the stage and ran as fast as she could towards the only exit. The audience was stunned, except for a wardrobe of a man who was sitting two tables away from Georgie. He jumped up, grabbed the naked girl, tucked her unceremoniously under his arm, and brought her back on stage, to the great enthusiasm of the audience.

"Thank you for your civic courage! As a reward, you may choose how you want to punish Kacey!"

The man thought only briefly. "I want to whip her, all over her body!"

Julie's arms were fixed above her head. The man was handed a simple, medium-heavy whip, and then Julie had to dance. He first hit her back - her attempt not to be hit there again led to her being hit right across both breasts. Her screams mixed with the cheers of the audience.

The man who was inside Georgie came - she felt it clearly. He nevertheless stayed inside - his dick got smaller, threatened to slip out, but it stayed in. However, the other man, who had previously wanted to take his place, had been watching him: he grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. His limp dick spoke volumes. Sheepishly, he sat back down at his table after zipping up his fly.

Now the other man was behind Georgie - his hard dick pushed briefly into her vagina. "Cunt like a bucket," he muttered, and pulled it out again. He now pushed himself between her buttocks... slowly he penetrated her anus... "That's better," he grunted, satisfied, when he was in all the way.

Meanwhile, the man had finished whipping Julie. She had welts all over her body. The man returned to his table to applause.

Next, Julie was strapped to a punishment bench, which made her vagina wide open and vulnerable: on her back, her legs fixed behind her head. Georgie knew this position well from Eastminster and her Academic Review!

"Mr. White actually wanted to chastise the condemned's vagina now. Unfortunately, her not-quite-contemporary pubic hair is in the way. That must now be removed! Please, Mr. White!"

Mr. White soaked a cloth with a clear liquid and then rubbed it over Julie's pubic area. He then, suddenly and without warning, pulled out a lighter and set Julie's pubic hair on fire. The liquid must have been spirits; in any case, all the hair burned away in a flash fire. Julie's scream was lost in the audience's cheers.

Now Mr. White began to beat Julie's labia with all his might with the whip - he gave them no time to form blisters - again and again, he hit them exactly.

"We will now move on to the second phase," the velvety voice from the loudspeakers announced again. "We'll start with a particularly perfidious variant of the wooden pony, also called the 'Spanish horse' - it was frequently used in the Spanish Inquisition. It is characterized by iron spikes that protrude from the wood, making the experience even more unpleasant than it would be anyway!"

Mr. White helped Julie onto the device. The spikes dug into her thighs, the sharp edge cut into her private parts. Her legs couldn't reach the floor - but Mr. White restored the catch-22 that characterizes this torture device by fixing her to the ceiling again. She could now relieve her private parts and thighs by pulling herself up - but she lacked the strength for that in the long run. Mr. White now also began to chastise her breasts with a cane. Soon she was sitting askew on the pony, at her wit's end, and was nothing but pain.

Finally, it was over, and Mr. White lifted her off the pony. Her relief, however, didn't last long - from the ceiling hung, on a pulley, an iron belt - clearly also an antique piece. This was put on Julie not at waist height, but directly under her bust and bolted tight. Then she was pulled into the air. With the help of the torturer, Mr. White now also attached iron ankle shackles, which each ran over rollers in the floor to the side. Julie was pulled even higher, so her body was completely taut, her legs, of course, pulled wide apart.

"The condemned will now make acquaintance with the so-called 'Judas cradle,' a popular instrument of torture in the Inquisition."

Mr. White and the torturer just pushed the iron pyramid directly under Julie. Then they slowly lowered the pulley. The torturer guided Julie down so that she came to sit with her rosette on the tip of the pyramid. Her whimpering, which had continued the whole time, turned into loud crying.

Julie's entire weight was now on the tip - but that wasn't enough for her tormentors: they pulled on the ropes that were attached to Julie's ankle shackles, so the tip penetrated deeper and deeper into Julie.

After about five minutes, Julie was pulled back up. Blood dripped from her backside.

"Shall we do the same with her vagina now?" the voice in the loudspeaker asked.

"Yes!" the audience screamed enthusiastically.

Down she went again for Julie, but this time the tip was inserted into her vagina. Mr. White sought volunteers to each pull on a rope. Thus, the tip penetrated deep into Julie, much deeper than before. Mr. White, for his part, now began to pull on the pulley, so Julie's upper body was pulled upwards. The iron ring cut into her bust. She had stopped screaming by now.

Now she was hoisted up again, although the two men from the audience continued to keep her leg ropes taut. From about half a meter, Mr. White then dropped her, so she landed with force with the area between her legs on the Judas cradle. The process was repeated two more times.

"You will all surely agree that Kacey needs to rest a bit before her execution. She may take a seat for that... we'll continue in ten minutes."

Julie was seated on a torture chair covered with nails to "rest." But that didn't bother her anymore either. She sat there, quite listlessly.

In the meantime, Georgie had been available to several men - one was currently fucking her in the conventional way. Now that there was a break, a man also wanted a blowjob - he had probably just fucked another slave in the ass, at least he tasted like it. Georgie, who was already more than disgusted by everything, almost had to throw up.

Now the two men who were pleasuring themselves with her were also talking.

"It's definitely hotter when you don't have to be afraid of permanently damaging the slave. You can go much harder then."

"That's true. Still a shame about her. Would have liked to fuck her through."

"Well, there are, groan, plenty of others for that. Want to swap?" asked the man Georgie was currently satisfying orally.

That was fine with Georgie - she could tolerate her own vaginal juice much better. Soon both of them came. As the next one pushed into her vagina, the announcer spoke again:

"Now we come to the highlight of the evening. Mr. White will sever Kacey's head with the axe."

Julie stood in front of the block while the torturer cut off her long blonde hair. Then she had to kneel in front of the block - her hands were fixed to the block with handcuffs. The hall darkened - one saw only the block, little Julie, and the axe, which now slowly rose. Then it sped down, hit Julie's neck, severed it. Julie's head fell to the floor and rolled a good meter away.

Silence. Then thunderous applause. The guests were satisfied.

Georgie had a guilty conscience, because at the exact moment of Julie's death, she had come harder than ever before.

The Torture School - An Eastminster Spin-Off

Part 11: The Day After

12 female students and three male students lay exhausted and traumatized on cots in a large dormitory. No one said a word. A girl could be heard sobbing quietly.

Georgie had remained strapped to the frame long after Julie's head had been separated from her body, and had, willy-nilly, had to satisfy a multitude of guests on both sides. When finally all the guests were lying snoring on the floor, various helpers had come to clean up. Julie's body had disappeared, Georgie had noticed when they unstrapped her. Then she had been brought to this dormitory - she didn't know her way around the castle well, but it seemed to her as if it was quite far from the school wing.

"Where are the other five, anyway?" she asked into the silence.

"Infirmary," a boy's voice answered. "Some of them were in a really bad way. We were lucky."

"Lucky?" a girl's voice cried. "You can't be serious? Lucky? You do realize what's going to happen to us now, don't you?"

Silence. The sobbing girl again.

"Err, I don't. But I'd be interested..." Georgie said into the silence.

"We've seen too much," the boy replied. "They'll keep us separated from the rest of the school. We're not getting out of here, at least not alive. When I started here, this happened once before. Those selected for the ball disappeared overnight. We never saw them again."

"Then we have to get out of here!" Georgie screamed. "That must be possible!"

"Good luck," said the boy. "We're locked in a medieval castle, which in turn is one of five buildings on a small island off the Scottish coast. There's no police here. The whole island belongs to Mr. Fortescue. Can you swim four miles? That's how far it is to Canna, the next larger island."

"But our parents will miss us!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I heard that last time it was reported in the news that a pleasure boat with students from the school had sunk. They have unlimited money, don't get your hopes up!"

At that moment, the light in the hall came on. Mr. Fortescue came in with two women. Georgie recognized them - both had been among the guests the day before.

"Robert, Geoffrey, and Geoffrey - out of bed!" Mr. Fortescue commanded. The three boys - Charles was probably with Dr. Bennet, Georgie thought - stood at the foot of their beds. All three were wearing only boxer shorts. The two women looked all three of them up and down. One slipped her index fingers under Geoffrey's waistband and slipped his underpants down. His member, marked by the lever of the mousetrap, hung limply. Meanwhile, the other woman had also pulled down the other two's pants. Geoffrey's penis was half-stiff - it was slowly rising, which was visibly uncomfortable for him. Robert's member stood proudly and stiffly in the room.

"We'll take these two," said the first woman, pointing to Robert and Geoffrey. "That is, if they don't have any plans for tonight..." she added with a laugh. The women left the hall.

"Okay, we'll pick you up around eight o'clock tonight," said Mr. Fortescue. "You will be the main attractions at a divorce party. A friend of the two ladies is freshly divorced - her psychoanalyst recommended she 'let off some steam.' What exactly will happen will be explained to you tonight." And he, too, left.

"My goodness, guys, that doesn't sound good," said Geoffrey. "I was really glad not to be as potent as you!"

"Go ahead and laugh," Geoffrey retorted. "Whether we survive this evening is totally up in the air."

"What does it matter," Robert said, resigned. "We're doomed anyway. Then it's better to get it over with quickly."

The two boys showered - at one end of the dormitory were five showerheads in the ceiling, there were no partitions or anything, they had to shower in front of everyone else - and then they were picked up by two muscular men.

Then Mr. Fortescue came in again.

"We just had an inquiry from California. A group of incels would like to really let loose in our castle. They can afford three girls - where they get the money from, I'd like to know, these losers. In any case, we'll have a conference call with them late tonight to select three of you. So be ready!"

Robert and Geoffrey were now in an anteroom of the small ballroom. The two women who had chosen them were there - from the ballroom, one could hear the damp, cheerful laughter of many women.

"So, just to reassure you: if you always obey, you will survive the evening. Otherwise, we'd have to pay the school a small fortune. However, we can't guarantee that you'll survive as fully-fledged men," laughed one woman. "Probably not!"

"Be quiet. So, boys," said the other, "in the first part of the evening, we will chastise you in various ways, leaving your manhood unharmed for now. The second part of the evening will then consist of you sexually entertaining all the ladies. You will be evaluated by all of us in both rounds. Your score will then be converted into punishments for your testicles and penises in round 3. If you please, you'll get off lightly. The one who has the hardest erection at the end of the evening wins. The other will be handed over to our freshly-divorced friend Ella, who plans to try out a whole range of torture tools on his penis and scrotum. So do your best!"

"Who of you wants to go in first? Volunteers step forward - otherwise, I'll pick someone!" the first woman announced.

Geoffrey volunteered.

"So, can you please put on these clothes? They belonged to Ella's ex..." The suit was a bit too wide for Geoffrey, the pants a bit too short.

"Well, you're not supposed to win a beauty contest with that stuff. Now this mask!"

Geoffrey had to put on a rubber mask, which had probably been made to the features of Ella's divorced husband. It covered his entire head, which would become very

uncomfortable over time.

"Don't worry, it's only for the first part of the evening!" That reassured Geoffrey only minimally.

The other woman had meanwhile gone into the hall. She could be heard through the large double doors: "It gives me great pleasure to announce that we have Ella's ex-husband here in duplicate. Both versions are hotter than the original! In the first round, both will be punished one after the other with a cane and whip for what they did to Ella! Ella will either carry out the punishments herself or appoint one of us to do so. So here he comes: Harry No. 1!!!"

To loud laughter, Geoffrey, disguised as Harry, entered the hall. He looked around through the small eyeholes. About twenty women were in the hall. Most were between thirty and forty... some might be older, one or two were only in their early twenties. All held champagne or martini glasses in their hands.

"What we all want to see now is a tasteful striptease!" the woman shouted, and pressed a remote control. "It's Raining Men" blared from several speakers. Geoffrey was unsure; he had never seen anything like this, let alone done it. And so he moved somewhat awkwardly. His rubber mask didn't help either.

The women found his clumsy attempts to undress sexily hilarious. When he was finally naked (except for the mask), he was fixed to the ceiling with Velcro handcuffs. His penis stood out at a right angle - it was as stiff as it could be!

Now Ella approached him - she was around thirty, attractive, slim, brunette. She raised the cane she had in her hand and brought it down on his backside. After twenty strokes, she grabbed a whip and whipped Geoffrey all over his body. Stroke after stroke, red welts formed all over his body. However, she avoided hitting his penis or testicles.

Geoffrey knew he was being evaluated and therefore gritted his teeth. Not a sound escaped his lips. Even at the end of his torture, his penis still stood like a rock. Then he was released and allowed to go back to the anteroom, where he could give his mask to Robert. Now it was his turn.

He had had ballet lessons as a child and was therefore quite good at the striptease. The subsequent chastisement - his penis also stood at a right angle - he did not endure quite as bravely as Geoffrey before him. His screams echoed in the hall.

He was then allowed - by now his penis had become flaccid - to take off the mask. Geoffrey was also brought in. He assumed that he would now have to satisfy the ladies present with his mouth, hands, and penis - but that was not the case.

"Men are very keen on watching lesbian women have sex. Maybe it's the same with women? Shall we find out?"

A loud "Yes" resounded in the hall.

"First, we want a little romance. How about a juicy French kiss? Please, gentlemen!"

Geoffrey and Robert knew: they had no alternative. Tentatively, Geoffrey approached Robert, took his head in his hands, and kissed him on the mouth. As he did, Geoffrey's still-stiff penis touched Robert's stomach.

"We want to see tongues!" shouted a woman from the audience.

Geoffrey and Robert obeyed - their tongues now played with each other. Robert's penis slowly stood up, which was extremely embarrassing for Robert. Great cheers from the women when they noticed that.

"Geoffrey, now you can make him completely hard! With your mouth!" shouted one of the younger women.

"With the mouth! With the mouth! With the mouth!" everyone chanted.

Geoffrey got on his knees in front of Robert and took his penis between his lips. It wasn't the first time he had to do this, after all. He began to suck on it and felt it grow in his mouth. When he was stiff, he was ordered to get on all fours. He knew what had to come. And right: Robert was ordered to penetrate Geoffrey from behind. For this, a lubricant that had a warming effect was first injected into his anus. Then he felt Robert's glans seek and find his entrance. After just three pumping movements, Geoffrey felt Robert ejaculate inside him.

Then the roles were reversed - Geoffrey had to penetrate Robert's backside. It wasn't necessary to make him hard first - he still stood like a rock. Geoffrey began to pump Robert's ass - but he managed to avoid ejaculating inside him. After about five minutes, he first had to lick Robert's, then Robert his, penis clean. Afterward, another French kiss was demanded.

The first woman, who had picked up the two, spoke again: "I'll hand out evaluation forms now - you'll get grades between 1 and 6, like in school, from each of us. The total number of points determines the minutes your penises and scrotums will be tortured. After the time is up, Ella will give you both a quick check - whoever is still the hardest, wins - the other has to go to the final round. In the final round, the medical team will be on standby to provide first aid. But first, go and shower - otherwise, the penis torture is no fun - the nose is tortured too!"

Both boys then stood next to each other naked in the shower. They didn't look at each other. Not only was everything super embarrassing for both of them, they also knew that a fight for man and eunuch was now imminent.

When both were freshly showered and stood before the women again - both again with stately erections - the result was read out. Geoffrey had a total of 30 points - he was relieved. He must have gotten a lot of ones and twos. Robert was less lucky: he got 55 points. The first woman explained what that meant:

"For both, we have an identical program that is fixed. Both will be fastened to a St. Andrew's cross - we will then begin to torture Robert's genitals. After 25 minutes, the same program will start for Geoffrey - after another 30 minutes, it's over. Then a two-minute countdown begins, at the end of which both will be laid on their backs. Whosever penis touches their abdomen first, loses - not just the competition, by the way!"

Loud laughter.

Both had to lie on St. Andrew's crosses - these were then brought into a vertical position (they were cleverly constructed). Geoffrey could watch exactly what would happen to Robert now. His dick stood out at a right angle - first, it was beaten for three minutes with a cat-o'-nine-tails. At the end, it was still stiff. Then five minutes with a light cane. Robert screamed loudly. Next, his glans was up - sharp, long women's nails dug into it - everyone got a turn. This went on for another five minutes. He was still standing.

Robert was brought into a horizontal position - a thin rod was inserted into his urethra. That was obviously unpleasant. But when the rod, which was connected via a thin wire to a TENS machine, was then electrified, Robert began to whimper and wail. The stopwatch now showed 20 minutes.

The rod was removed again. Again, a cane was used - again and again, it hit the glans (Robert was upright again by now). After that, 25 minutes on the clock, a line of women formed. Each then gave Robert a hearty kick in the testicles. Geoffrey noticed that Robert's penis was now becoming flaccid - but then he had problems of his own: the cat-o'-nine-tails made contact with his own penis. He now concentrated on maintaining his own erection. The most unpleasant part was when the tube was inserted - but he was very afraid of the kicks to the testicles, which would soon follow. Then the rod was electrified, and he could think of nothing else but his penis, which seemed to be burning from the inside. While his glans was being beaten, he could steal a glance at Robert: his penis was stiff again - needles were being stuck through the skin of his scrotum and his glans - one went all the way through! Geoffrey was glad that he would probably be spared that!

But now the line of women formed at his side, the first kick landed between his legs. Then the next. The pain was immense. He didn't feel it, he only saw through tear-filled eyes that his penis was hanging limply. Then the buzzer went off - the torture was over. The stopwatch now showed 120 seconds. Geoffrey panicked. He had just received many hard kicks to the balls. How was he supposed to get an erection? He closed his eyes, thought of the little Tyron he had seen topless next to his bed just a short time ago. Relieved, he felt the blood flow back into his penis... The buzzer went off.

The St. Andrew's crosses were laid down simultaneously. A woman held each of the boys' penises upright. Then, on a signal, they let go. Geoffrey noticed that his erection wasn't hard enough, that his penis wouldn't stay up on its own - he had to tense his pelvic muscles. But he felt his strength leaving him. Grimly, he held his penis just above his abdomen. But then it was too much. He had to release the tension, his penis fell audibly onto his stomach.

"We have a winner! Robert!!!" Geoffrey was desperate. He had been doing so well in the race! And now he was really to be unmanned? It hadn't been said outright, but the allusions had been all too clear. And right:

"Before we come to the highlight of the evening, I'd like to ask: who among those present would like to give Geoffrey one of his last blowjobs? When he's fully standing again, he may choose a willing lady from among the ladies, whom he will fuck for the last time. After that, it's Ella's turn!"

Three women, two in their mid-forties, one in her mid-twenties, volunteered and took turns blowing Geoffrey, who was still fastened to the St. Andrew's cross. Robert had been untied by now. A small group of women was gathered around him - he, too, was getting a blowjob. By now, Geoffrey was fully hard again. He was untied. Two women pointed: both were rather unattractive. He chose the younger one - she, in her mid-forties, pulled off her panties and lay down spread-eagled, her skirt pulled up, on a chaise longue. Geoffrey mounted her and penetrated her. She was dripping wet. But wide. Very wide. He did his best but only slowly approached climax. By now she had already come three times... the thought of being the last one to be fucked by this boy apparently excited her immensely.

Now Geoffrey, too, approached his probably last orgasm. He began to moan - but was then pulled off from behind by the woman.

"Nobody said you could come again!" said Ella. "Now it gets serious."

She turned to the audience: "I found the 'Mousetrap' at the ball yesterday extremely stimulating and borrowed the heaviest device." She took it out of an antique cabinet that stood against the wall. Geoffrey looked at it with wide eyes.

"At the ball, another boy had to trigger a slightly less heavy trap with his penis - this time we're changing the rules. He has to trigger it with one of his testicles! But first, we'll put this cock ring on him so he doesn't lose his erection right away - we still need that!"

While this was happening, Geoffrey noticed that Dr. Bennet and two nurses were standing discretely at the entrance.

Geoffrey didn't move.

"Should we send you a written invitation?" Ella asked him sarcastically. "Are you going to do it soon?"

Geoffrey stood still.

"You do realize that we have the right to do whatever we want with you - at no extra cost - should you refuse to obey us?" Ella asked.

Geoffrey looked at Dr. Bennet, who nodded seriously.

The huge, metal trap left no doubt that his testicles would not survive an encounter with it. Nevertheless, Geoffrey now moved towards it. Carefully, he lowered his scrotum onto the trigger mechanism - he felt the cold metal, then the trap snapped shut. It had only hit one of his testicles - he felt no pain, but noticed that his right testicle had turned to mush.

"Brave, brave. I'll give you the choice: the same again with the other testicle, or I'll use a hammer for that...?"

"The hammer, please!"

After Ella had freed him from the trap, he laid his scrotum sideways on the heavy oak table on which the trap stood. Ella now held a heavy rubber mallet in her right hand. With her left, she held his penis firmly and bent it out of the way. But then she let the mallet come down only half-heartedly on his remaining testicle. Now he felt the pain! He screamed loudly. When he had calmed down, Ella said quietly into the silence: "Now you are a man for five more seconds!" After a small eternity, she then brought the mallet down with full force - his left testicle was now also mush.

Geoffrey whimpered quietly. He had felt no pain again, but was crying in mourning for his manhood. He expected Dr. Bennet to take him to the infirmary now, but he didn't move. Instead, Ella had taken two more devices out of the cabinet: one looked like iron tongs with many sharp teeth. The other like a guillotine, only smaller.

"I'll leave the choice to you, Geoffrey," said Ella. "This here is a device that was originally used to literally rip the breasts off supposed witches in the Middle Ages. A 'Breast Ripper.' For homosexual heretics, the church came up with this modified and smaller version. If you choose it, I will rip your penis off with it. The alternative is this penis guillotine. What do you choose?"

"The second one," sobbed Geoffrey.

"No, that's not how it works. Say: 'Please cut off my penis with the penis guillotine now!'" Geoffrey obeyed.

"Please cut off my penis with the penis guillotine now!"

Geoffrey had to slide his - no longer completely stiff - penis into the opening provided for it. Ella then fixed him to the device so that the blade would fall very close to his body.

"You give me the signal - I'll operate the mechanism. When you're ready!"

Geoffrey couldn't. He couldn't get the words out.

"Good, then I'll do it with the penis ripper. Your last chance..."

"Now," Geoffrey whispered. The blade whizzed down and cleanly severed his member. Again, he felt no pain, but became weak. He was vaguely aware of the nurses catching him and trying to stop the blood that was flowing from the hole between his legs. Then he lost consciousness. The last thing he heard was the loud cheers of the women...

The Torture School

The next morning, Geoffrey's bed remained empty. Robert snored quietly in his. Georgie didn't want to wake him. But she wanted to know what had happened to Geoffrey. Then the door opened and Nurse Fenella came in - behind her... Charles!

"Charles!" Georgie cried, delighted. "Great to see you!"

Charles didn't seem so pleased.

"So this is the den of the damned? Sorry to see you here, Georgie."

"Are you completely okay again?"

"Well, Dr. Bennet says I'll probably recover on my own. Although I can't quite believe that my best piece will be like it was again. But it could be worse, as we all know. Especially Geoffrey."

"What happened to him?"

"I don't know exactly. But he's not a man anymore. The women he was handed over to yesterday not only castrated him, they cut off his penis. I got off pretty lightly with the nail and the many needles and clothespins!"

Georgie plucked up her courage. She went over to Charles's bed - let the others watch - kissed him gently on the mouth and took him in her arms, pulled his head between her breasts. He sobbed quietly, nestled against her. So they lay there, arm in arm... she caressed him, kissed him, tried to comfort him. But then she started to sob herself... So they fell asleep, entwined.

That's how Nurse Fenella found them, having come to change Charles's bandage.

"You rascals, now back to your own beds!" Georgie hurried to get into her bed, but then watched with wide eyes as the nurse removed the bandage that was wrapped around Charles's penis. That looked really bad!

When Nurse Fenella was gone, Georgie lay down with Charles again... he kissed her gently on the lips, stroked her. It could always be like this, she thought.

The door opened and Mr. Fortescue and some kind of camera crew came in. Georgie quickly broke free and wanted to go back to her bed, but Mr. Fortescue had, of course, seen her.

"The good nurse has already told me that we have a pair of lovers in our midst. So no worries. But you two can perhaps disappear from the picture now - stand over there by the door!"

Georgie didn't understand why, but obeyed. Charles too. Mr. Fortescue now seemed to be talking to someone who wasn't in the room at all.

"The boys and girls have only just woken up, it's early morning here. What do you want to see? Okay."

He turned to the dormitory: "All girls, out of bed and get undressed!"

He then seemed to be talking to himself again.

"Yes, that costs one million. Pounds, not dollars, of course. But if we come to such a deal, you get two for free, whom you can torture hard and who will be sexually available. But no permanent damage, please!"

The camera team now moved from naked girl to naked girl. Everyone suspected that the right to torture them to death was being sold here.

"No, you don't have to decide in advance. Only I must have two back - and only slightly damaged. Otherwise, it costs extra. Permanent damage £300,000, if they don't pull through £700,000 for the first, £500,000 for the second girl. I understand that money is no object for you..."

Meanwhile, the team had filmed the last girl from head to toe.

"Okay, you'll let me know what you've decided then..." Mr. Fortescue said as he walked towards the door. "You can get back together!" he said to Georgie and Charles as he left.

So they did. There wasn't much to do all day. Georgie was a bit sad that Charles's best piece was really

unusable at the moment... she had tried to stroke it, but Charles hadn't liked that at all.

In the early evening, the door opened again. Mr. Fortescue came in, Sir Roger in tow.

"Well, all of them are available to you here. It's not even a pure girls' dormitory, there are also some boys here, should that suit you..."

"But I know them... they were slaves at the ball!" Sir Roger replied indignantly. "Are you trying to fuck with me? I can do that perfectly well myself!"

"You're right - I just thought you'd like this hall - you can use them all sexually and choose one to torture hard. Permanent damage included!"

"No, my prize was a 'normal' dormitory. I insist on that."

"Okay, okay. No problem. We'll organize that. Come with me."

The two left the hall.

Charles and Georgie cuddled up to each other again.

"Sorry there's not much to be done with me, Georgie," he said. "But maybe I can do something for you?"

He disappeared under the blanket. She felt him kiss her thighs, come closer to her vagina... then his tongue was on her labia, penetrated her... he stroked lightly over her clitoris... she felt an orgasm building, tried to stay calm, but then moaned loudly after all. Giggles in the hall. Everyone else knew, of course, what was going on. Georgie stroked Charles's hair - she took him in her arms, his head lay on her naked breast.

The abrupt opening of the door tore Georgie from her doze. A naked girl was roughly pushed into the hall. "Find a free bed, tomorrow it will be decided what happens to you," said a male voice. Then the door closed again. The key turned in the lock. It was almost completely dark - only through the crack under the door did some light fall into the hall. So it wasn't easy for the new girl to find her way.

"The bed next to me is still free," said the voice of little Tyron. "Over here!"

The girl gratefully made her way towards the voice, found the bed.

"My name is Tyron, and you?"

"Anne," the girl replied. "What kind of dormitory is this?"

"This is the den of the damned," said Tom's voice. "You don't really want to know what happens here."

"It can hardly be worse than what happened in our dormitory - I'm in the Fourth Form."

"What happened?" Tyron asked.

"Two teachers I didn't know suddenly came into our dormitory. We all had to get naked and stand at the foot of our beds. No one told us why. One of the teachers then said that a man named Sir Roger would be coming, whose instructions we had to follow 100%. This man also had the right to chastise us.

The teachers then left. Then this man came in. He went through the rows... looked at each of us closely, touched some of us, especially on the breast. Then he went through the row a second time. 'Those I tap, get your pillows and put them at the foot of the bed. Then lie on them, with your knees on the floor and your lower body on the pillow. Your legs are to be spread.' Then he went through the row again and tapped about every third one of us. Not me, but my bed neighbor, Chloe. Chloe is a nice girl, but she's been suffering from acne a lot lately. Also, her personal hygiene isn't always 100% - she should shower more often than she does. Overall, I had the impression that the not-so-attractive girls were tapped.

'Those I tap next, also get your pillow and put it at the foot of the bed, but then lie on it with your bottom and spread your legs.'

This time, every second one was tapped - I wasn't among them again. We, who were still standing, had to remain standing.

'I would now like to demonstrate to you first what happens if you don't obey or don't cooperate.'

He had a thin cane in his hand - first, everyone lying on their front got a stroke on the bottom. Everyone screamed. Then those lying on their back, one after another, got a stroke on the inner thighs - some also directly on the vagina. Then it was our turn. We could choose whether we wanted the cane across both breasts or a simple slap. For the cane, we had to kneel. But only two of us did that - I and the other four who were standing, remained standing. It was my turn second. After he had slapped Jo, he stepped in front of me and looked me in the eyes. Then he drew back his hand and gave me a slap that made my head ring. Then I had to kneel. The other three also got their slaps, then the other two the cane across the breasts. That seemed to hurt a lot."

Georgie knew all about it. "Normally, you get the rod or whip across the breast - a cane is already hard. I've had it, but really not pleasant. I'm Georgie, by the way."

"Well, Sir Roger then had Jo and me undress him - but his penis was completely flaccid. Jo had to take it in her mouth, but it didn't really get stiffer. He said it was due to her 'technique' - and gave her another slap. Then I had to try... it tasted disgusting! He was groping my breasts the whole time. He slowly got a bit stiffer in my mouth, but probably not enough. I had to stand up and again he looked deep into my eyes before giving me another slap. Then it was the next one's turn... she managed it, he had an erection.

'Which of those lying on their backs are not virgins?' he asked now. Four of the seven lying on their backs raised their hand. He then penetrated these four one after another... always about three thrusts, then he went to the next one.

'Which of the virgins wants to be deflowered first?' he asked. I was so glad I wasn't lying on my back, because I'm still a virgin myself. No one volunteered.

'Good, you'll each get one stroke on the vagina now until someone volunteers!' He drew back, but before he could strike, my friend Jacqui, whom he was threatening to hit, had agreed. He struck anyway, then put the cane aside and rammed his penis into Jacqui's vagina. She screamed loudly, but he rode her hard now. 'You're so beautifully tight!' he screamed again and again. Then he moaned and came inside her. He then came over to me - I had to lick his blood-smeared penis clean. Really disgusting. But I didn't get him stiff again - another slap for me. After that, three others had to try, the third one then got the cane across the breasts. Only the fourth one managed it. He then deflowered the other two virgins, but didn't come this time. He then came in my direction, but walked past and over to Chloe. She had to pull her butt cheeks apart. It was clear to see that she hadn't wiped herself very well the last time she was on the toilet. He pointed at me: 'Clean her!'

I got a packet of tissues from my bedside drawer and wanted to wipe her bottom with it - but that's not what he meant: 'With your tongue, of course!'

I shook my head in disgust. He went ballistic. I had to stand in front of him and got five slaps. Then I had to kneel and received five cane strokes across the breasts. The pain convinced me: I cleaned Chloe's backside with my tongue. He then penetrated her and came to climax. His flaccid penis was full of her feces. And of course, I was supposed to lick it clean. When I had it in my mouth, I got a gag reflex and must have somehow bitten down - in any case, he screamed loudly in pain and called the security guards in, who then brought me here. So, now you know everything!"

"You bit his dick?" Tom asked. "That's not good."

"But not on purpose. I had a kind of cramp..."

"This school is not exactly known for treating its students fairly. You're not going to have an easy time, I think," said Georgie. She didn't want to say openly that she didn't think Anne would survive long. But everyone thought it.

Georgie began to stroke Charles's head again.

"Have you seen anything of Geoffrey?" she whispered to him.

"Yes, he was operated on by Dr. Bennet. The wound will heal - he'll have to pee like a girl then - his urethra ends in a small hole between his legs."

"Does he have a high voice now?"

"No, completely normal. But he didn't say much, poor guy."

Both fell into an uneasy sleep.

The next morning, they were all taken to a nearby dining hall for breakfast. Charles said that this whole wing of the castle was probably originally intended for the servants. Georgie saw what he meant. Everything was simply furnished - wooden beds, plank floors, wooden benches. Unadorned wallpaper. The food was in keeping: dry bread and some black coffee.

While everyone was eating, Mr. Fortescue and two other men came in. Mr. Fortescue spoke:

"You've noticed that another student, Anne, has joined your group. Yesterday, she willfully injured one of our honored guests. We have decided to hand her over to the 'Historical Re-enactment Society,' which has been a guest at our castle on several occasions. They hold trials strictly according to historical models. You will all attend the trial, and the execution of the sentence, which will follow immediately after the trial, disguised as serving maids and servants. It is in your own interest to follow the instructions of the Society's members - if you don't want to end up in the dock yourself! Anne is being moved to the main dungeon right now, where she can await her interrogation under torture, which begins tomorrow morning. The members of the Society will arrive here by ship this afternoon."

Two security guards took the trembling and crying Anne by the arms and led her out of the room.

The Torture School - Part 13

The Scottish Inquisition I - Interrogation Under Torture

The next morning at breakfast - the "damned students," as Tom called them, were all still dressed only in their underpants - the costumes were distributed. They looked very realistic and smelled like it too - just how you'd imagine the smell of a medieval dress, Georgie thought. The fabric was very coarse - this was less bad for Georgie, who hadn't been severely tortured in a long time, but all the worse for those who had been tortured particularly on the breasts just last weekend. Some girls actually screamed out loud as they pulled the coarse fabric on.

Charles and Tom had been given leather doublets, while Robert was put in a linen shirt and linen trousers.

When everyone was in costume, they went out into the castle courtyard. About ten members of the society, also all in costume, were already waiting there. Mr. Fortescue was there too - he was just pulling on the skirt and coat of a Spanish nobleman in the Middle Ages. And Sir Roger was also present - appropriately dressed in the clothes of an English knight. Georgie also recognized the torturer who had already conjured up a touch of the Inquisition at the ball, in the "Mousetrap." He was just taking Tom and Charles aside and explaining something to them. Charles looked disturbed and dazed.

"I ask the noble lords and ladies to follow me with their servants to the torture cellar!" shouted a man dressed as a herald. "There, Sir Roger will take on the role of Grand Inquisitor and the interrogation under torture can begin, with our torturer Tarok and his assistants Charles and Thomas!"

Down a narrow staircase, it went into a very spacious cellar. On one side, benches were carved into the stone, like in an amphitheater. The guests and the students took their seats there. Mr. Fortescue sat in the front row. Sir Roger stood behind a lectern - opposite him the torturer, Tom, and Charles. He threw Georgie, who was sitting in the second row, a desperate look.

Torture instruments of every kind were distributed around the cellar - an iron maiden, two different wooden ponies, a torture chair, a rack. In the corner stood a forge, glowing with heat. Behind it, on the wall, hung a St. Andrew's cross, to which the naked Anne was fastened.

When everyone was seated and the noise level had dropped, Sir Roger addressed Anne: "I accuse you of deliberately injuring your master. At this institution, the penalty for that is death. Do you confess?"

"No, it was a reflex... I couldn't help it."

"You allowed yourself to let your anger degenerate into violence. Admit it!"

"No, never!"

Sir Roger nodded to the torturer. He, in turn, turned to Charles: "Torturer's assistant! The nipple pincer!"

Charles picked up a long, iron pincer from the floor. Its end was forged so that it would wrap around a girl's nipple and squeeze from all sides. His lips formed the word "Sorry!" as he applied the long pincer to her breast. Slowly, he closed the pincer, it now held her nipple firmly, he squeezed further... Anne began to scream loudly.

Charles looked over at Sir Roger, who gestured for him to squeeze further. Charles obeyed. Then Sir Roger nodded to him, Charles opened the pincer again.

Anne hung whimpering on the St. Andrew's cross.

"Do you confess now that you intentionally injured your master?"

"No, never!"

Sir Roger nodded to Charles. He applied the pincer to the other nipple and moved the long arms of the pincer together again... Again, little Anne screamed bloody murder.

When Charles, at Sir Roger's behest, let go of her, she still steadfastly refused to confess.

"We proceed to the second degree," said Sir Roger. "Place the nipple pincers in the forge!"

Charles and Tom placed the nipple pincers in the hot embers.

"While the pincers are getting really hot, the heretic Anne's breasts will be bound and she will be placed on a wooden pony!" Sir Roger announced. Tom bound Anne's right, Charles her left breast - with rough, hard ropes. These ropes were now attached to a pulley, which then pulled Anne up by her breasts. One of the wooden ponies was placed under her - then she was slowly lowered again. The hard edge of the pony cut into her vagina - she screamed loudly. Pain in her breasts alternated with pain in her vagina.

Charles and Tom took the nipple pincers out of the forge again - in the dim light of the cellar, they glowed red. Both simultaneously applied them to her nipples - everyone in the room heard the sizzling on her flesh. Both pincers closed around her nipples and squeezed. Anne's screams filled the cellar.

"Do you confess now?" Sir Roger asked. But Anne was not in a state to say anything. Sir Roger nodded to Charles. Both Tom and Charles let go with their nipple pincers. Charles pulled Anne up on the pulley... she now hung above the wooden pony.

"We need two volunteers from the audience to help us with the torture!" Sir Roger shouted. Two women dressed as noble ladies volunteered.

"Before the heretic is given the next chance to confess, her breasts will be bound and she will then be hung by them, over the first of the two wooden ponies. To increase the pain that arises, her breasts will first be prepared by our two torturer's assistants with canes! Charles and Tom, do your duty!"

Georgie let out a sharp, and very loud, scream of terror. Mr. Fortescue, sitting in the row in front of her, turned around and looked at her sharply. Then he waved Sir Roger over and whispered something in his ear. He then turned to the audience:

"This woman has pity for the heretic. As punishment, she shall share her fate. Charles, bring her to the front."

Despair was written all over Charles's face. But what choice did he have? He took Georgie by the arm and led her to the area of the cellar where the torture devices stood. Tom put handcuffs on her - these were then attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling.

"Show us her sinful body!" said Sir Roger.

Tom unbuttoned Georgie's smock and stripped it from her body - Charles pulled off her panties. She now stood just as naked as Anne before the audience.

"Torturer's assistant Charles will chastise Georgie's breasts, torturer's assistant Tom, Anne's," Sir Roger announced.

Georgie looked at Charles, frightened and crying, but his face showed no emotion. He raised the cane and brought it down with full force on both her breasts.

Simultaneously, Tom had brought his cane down on Anne's breasts. Both girls screamed loudly. Georgie was as if in a trance. She had, for the moment, thought herself safe. She was only here as a spectator! And she didn't know what Sir Roger meant when he said she should share Anne's fate. Was her life now in danger too? How could she stop the torture? What was she supposed to confess?

But already Charles hit her again, this time only on the left breast. The impact was all the more painful for it. She felt the pain not just on the skin, but deep in her breast tissue. She now noticed that Sir Roger was, so to speak, conducting the two boys, so that they both struck at the same time. You could indeed only hear one impact sound. Again, Sir Roger gave a signal, again the canes struck the girls' breasts, this time the right one. Georgie tried to make eye contact with Charles, but he did not return her gaze. Like a robot, he hit her, again and again.

After about twenty strokes - Georgie had already experienced a lot, but she felt she couldn't bear any more pain - Sir Roger gave a signal. Charles and Tom stepped aside. Two torturers stepped forward, tightly bound the two girls' breasts. Then the ropes that bound their breasts were attached with hooks to chains hanging from the ceiling. These were connected via a pulley to ropes. Tom held Anne's rope, Charles Georgie's.

Sir Roger explained to the audience what would happen next:

"Our two torturer's assistants will now pull the two accused up. The wooden ponies will then be placed under them. The torturer's assistants can then lower the accused so that they are sitting on the pony. Or not. The one who gives up first, loses. The torturer's assistant who tortured the winner takes her place. She herself can take a seat in the audience."

Georgie realized that she had a very real chance of being tortured to death tonight. Or that Charles would be tortured to death. No good alternatives!

Now both girls were pulled up... the pain was terrible, especially because Georgie's breast tissue was full of bruises and her skin full of welts. But Anne was no better off.

While Georgie was still hanging, Tom lowered Anne onto the pony. Georgie only now saw, as she hung over it, that the edge of the pony was not made of wood, but of steel - it seemed to her as if the edge was sharpened like a knife. Tom repeatedly let Anne fall onto this sharp edge, while Georgie still hung in the air above it. That hurt, true, but it was better than being slit open by this blade.

Anne was bleeding quite a bit by now... Tom now let her sit on the blade. But Georgie could also barely stand the pain in her breasts anymore. Charles noticed this and slowly lowered her. The pony was adjusted so that she could just reach the floor with her tiptoes, without putting her vagina too hard on the blade. But she wouldn't be able to hold that for long.

Another scream from Anne, whom Tom let fall onto the blade with force. "I give up!" cried Anne. Georgie had won. But at what cost? What would happen to Charles now?

The Torture School - Part 14

The Scottish Inquisition II - Executions

Sir Roger turned to the crowd: "The two heretics will be executed in the castle courtyard in two hours. In the two hours that remain to them, they are completely at the disposal of those present!"

Anne had meanwhile been lowered and was lying on her back on a rack. Two of the torturers were busy tying her legs up. In the end, she lay with her legs spread wide, tied behind her head, in front of the audience. Both holes, though smeared with blood, stood invitingly open. Sir Roger had meanwhile positioned himself as the first between her legs. Discretely, he took his penis out of his medieval pantaloons and inserted it into her vagina. He came quickly, then lingered for a while in her vagina until his penis was hard again. Then he continued the sexual act. After some time, however, he switched to her anus, came again, and then made way for the next one. A long line of men was already queuing...

Charles had meanwhile been stretched on the adjacent rack. Intravenously administered Viagra ensured that his penis stood proud and stiff. Among the "noble ladies" present, however, none was found who wanted to use his penis for the purpose for which it was created. Three or four contented themselves with rather half-heartedly chastising his lower body with rods. Sir Roger noticed this, and it aroused his displeasure.

"Hey, you!" he shouted at Georgie. "Fuck him until he ejaculates! But we all want to see it, so get off him in time, okay?"

Georgie, who had just gotten dressed again, in tears, knew there was no alternative. She climbed onto the rack - there wasn't much room for her. In the end, the only way was to lie on top of Charles. She was totally dry - she was mourning her friend, whom she should never have had, but whom she was now supposed to have in such an inhuman way. She felt his stiff member between her legs as she wept openly.

She tried to guide him in. It didn't really help that about 15 "noble ladies" and the queue waiting to fuck Anne were watching her intently. It just wouldn't work, she was too dry. The thought that Charles was supposed to die in two hours prevented any arousal.

Sir Roger had provided for this - a tube of lubricant in hand, he approached her. He emptied the tube almost into his hand and smeared the gel deep into her vagina. That helped. Charles's penis penetrated her. She now did her best to give him one last orgasm. And indeed, his penis began to twitch... when she felt that he would come soon, she dismounted and began to rub him further with her hand. Soon, a large amount of sperm shot out of him and hit Georgie's left eye...

The "noble ladies," very aroused by this sight, pulled Georgie away and began to whip Charles with great energy while one mounted him - her wide skirt covered the proceedings. Charles, who remained stiff due to the Viagra injection, clearly didn't like this, quite apart from the whip lashes.

In the meantime, Anne had been fucked in both holes by about half of the "noblemen" who were in the queue. Some of those who were "through" were torturing her in the meantime. One was slapping her from behind, while two others beat her breasts with canes. Two more beat the soles of her feet...

When everyone had had their fill, Sir Roger called a halt:

"We will meet in the castle courtyard in one hour!" he shouted into the crowd, which responded with a roar.

Georgie and the other students, who were in the audience, were led into an adjoining room. Sir Roger came in last:

"So, your task is to be compliant to the guests during the executions. Anyone who disappoints can easily find themselves on the pyre too! So no bitching!"

The students were then led outside. In the large castle courtyard, a pyre was prepared. In addition, several horses were tied to iron rings. A glowing forge, swords, and a selection of dangerous-looking knives were also there. Wooden benches had been erected for the audience, arranged around the center of the courtyard, the pyre, like in an amphitheater. Slowly, the rows filled with the noblemen and ladies who had already attended the interrogation under torture. Georgie also saw some somewhat anachronistic-looking cameras set up in the castle windows.

The spectator rows were now well-filled, and Charles was led in, in handcuffs. He was still naked, and still had a mighty erection. He was laid on the ground and fixed with four ropes to four posts.

"The fate of the former assistant torturer Charles is to be tortured, castrated, and then quartered!" Sir Roger shouted to the audience. Everything went black for Georgie.

A torturer trickled something over Charles's pubic hair - then he took a torch from the forge and held it between Charles's legs. A sheet of flame shot up, Charles screamed. His pubic hair burned off. Now two horses each were attached to each of the ropes that fixed Charles's limbs. When that was done, a torturer came to Georgie. He held a large pair of hedge shears in his hands. Sir Roger announced:

"Georgie will now cut off Charles's penis. Thereupon, we will drive the horses, and they will tear Charles apart."

Georgie knew once again that she had no choice. She took the shears and placed them just above Charles's scrotum. Slowly, she closed the torture tool. Charles began to scream like crazy. Georgie closed her eyes and squeezed. Charles's stiff penis hung by a scrap of skin from the shears, which she now threw away in disgust. But already the horses were being whipped, they set off, Charles's body rose from the ground. Another loud scream, then a crack, a tearing, and two horses galloped off with an arm, two with a leg, and four with half a torso each. Charles was dead.

The audience applauded loudly. The horses were caught, a clean-up crew removed the worst traces of the event.

Then Anne was led in. Her face expressed indifference, resignation. She saw the pyre, but didn't seem to understand what it portended.

"Anne's labia will now first be removed. Then she will be circumcised according to Muslim custom, finally, her breasts will be removed, before she then suffers the fate of all heretics on the pyre!"

Anne was now put in a pillory, which spread her legs wide. A torturer put clamps on her labia and then pulled them wide apart. Another approached with a sharp pair of scissors and simply cut them off. Anne screamed loudly. But already a third torturer approached with a knife. He first stroked her clitoris with his finger before applying the knife and cutting the clitoris off. The blood flow was then stanched with a branding iron. It sizzled loudly. The audience cheered.

The torturer clearly enjoyed the applause. He freed Anne's legs from the pillory and led her onto the pyre. Her arms were tied above her head. With a pair of tongs, he gripped her left nipple and pulled. With the knife with which he had just removed her clitoris, he now slowly cut off her nipple. Again, the blood flow was stanched with hot iron. Then it was the right nipple's turn. Again, it sizzled loudly as the iron stanched the blood flow. Anne fainted, but an injection, administered by Sir Roger, brought her back to consciousness. Meanwhile, both breasts had been bound. The torturer placed the blade behind the rope on the right breast and cut it clean off. Then the left. A gauze bandage was wrapped around her torso to prevent her from bleeding to death before the flames could do their work. Then, on command from Sir Roger, the pyre was lit. Slowly, the flames crept towards the innocent little girl. Soon, only ashes were left.

Georgie mourned Anne and Charles, while the twentieth "nobleman" ejaculated in her backside...