The Sisters Part 2

The Sisters Part 2

 On hearing the noise the sole occupant of the room leapt to her feet from behind a desk and stood ramrod stiff to attention. At first glance she appeared to be a schoolgirl. She was dressed in a very formal, strict uniform. Her neat, black, lace-up shoes were polished to a mirror shine and her knee-length; pelerine white socks were pulled to an identical height. She wore an archaic-looking box-pleated grey gymslip which was mid-thigh in length and had a badge in the middle of the yoke which proclaimed to all and sundry that the wearer was a pupil at Middlebury Junior School. Beneath the gymslip the girl was wearing a pristine, starched white cotton shirt buttoned at the collar and cuffs. Around her neck she wore the tightly knotted blue and yellow striped Junior School tie. Her blonde hair was tied in two cute little pigtails held up by two matching ribbons.

 Caroline felt her heart beating wildly, she hated and feared both her captors but the taller woman absolutely terrified her. As she approached her desk, Caroline felt faint but fought the urge to sit back down on her chair. The evil witch was carrying a cane in her strong right hand. Caroline could already feel the tears welling in her eyes. She hated being punished with any implement of course, but the cane was the most painful one. For some reason the woman must be in an especially bad mood, not that she was ever in a good mood reflected Caroline bitterly. But the cane was often an indicator of Miss Jane’s state of mind. The woman towered over her black eyes boring into the back of Caroline’s skull; she flexed the wicked-looking cane ostentatiously between her large, mannish hands without saying a word. She didn’t have to, her expression and grim demeanour was enough.

 “I hear that you’ve been a naughty girl, Lassiter?”

 Just the sound of her deep, almost masculine voice was enough to turn Caroline’s innards to water. But she simply had to ignore the feeling and keep her focus. She had a role that she was required to play.

 “Y...yes, miss. I’m most dreadfully sorry, miss.”

 The tip of the wicked cane was placed beneath her chin and she was forced to look up at her tormentor’s cold, implacable face.

 “How do you explain yourself, masturbating in the school bathroom at your age?”

 Caroline could already feel the tears sliding down her cheeks. She was very close to wetting herself through the sheer shame and terror of the situation. This dreadfully humiliating cat and mouse scenario was almost as bad as the inevitable punishment she was about to receive.

 “I c...can’t, miss. I’m ever so sorry. You won’t tell mummy will you?”

 The tip of the cane slid down from her chin and played with her neatly knotted tie.

 “How old are you, Lassiter?”

 “I...I’m eleven, miss.”

 The woman shook her head in mock disgust and flicked at the tie until she pulled it from behind the yoke of the grey gymslip and let it hang down the front of the girl’s dress.

 “You’re a disgusting little girl, Lassiter, aren’t you?”

 “Yes, miss. I’m ever so sorry, miss.” She almost whispered the required response.

 “What are you, speak up?”

 “A disgusting little girl, miss.”

 “And why is that?”

 “I...I’ve been masturbating, miss. In the school bathroom, miss.”

 “You’re a wanker in other words, Lassiter, a naughty, dirty little wanker. Isn’t that nearer the mark?”

 Although she hated that word and she would never actually use it unless forced to do so, thirty year old professional woman Caroline Lassiter had to stand in front of this insane sadist that had recently taken over her existence and admit that, yes she was a naughty, dirty little wanker and she was so dreadfully sorry. What had become of her life? First she had been kidnapped and beaten by that vile woman and her dreadful, ugly sidekick and then eventually delivered to this terrible house. Now, rather than a dentist with a nice little practise, a riverside apartment and a rather enviable lifestyle she was, to all intents and purposes, a slave to two crazy old women. And if that wasn’t bad enough she wasn’t merely a slave, but her two captors now required her to adopt the role of their daughter! She didn’t know or even care what twisted part of their upbringing or development had led them along this dark path, but it was clear they had very deep psychological problems.

 The tall, terrifying one was Mummy Jane, the fat frightening one was Mummy Jennifer. Her two Mummies liked her to adopt various roles, sometimes like now she was their eleven year old daughter, Carrie a pupil at Middlebury Junior School. At other times she was Caroline their sixteen year old daughter a pupil at the Sacred Heart Convent School, or maybe young Amanda (her middle name), an orphan who they’d taken in and given a home to. Their imagination knew no bounds, Mummy Jennifer even liked to dress her as a baby in a tiny pink dress and a nappy and then sit her on her ample knee and feed her some sort of foul mush with a plastic teaspoon. They may well have been well-educated and wealthy, the house for example was absolutely huge, and they might have precise, upper-class accents but that didn’t stop them from being quite mad, In Caroline’s opinion.

 And it was that madness that made the whole experience even more terrible and frightening, if indeed that was possible. Their cold, calculating cruelty was quite shocking. She was for example required to learn lines for all the various scenarios their warped imaginations managed to conceive. The women referred to them as her ‘homework’, a description that never failed to amuse them. So as she read the text laid out in front of her, her fate slowly unfolded. Mummy Jennifer, for example might require her to recite nursery rhymes for her amusement, and then strip her of any humiliating little dress she’d made her wear, bathe her, spank her over her knee and then put her to bed while it was still light outside. Caroline would have to know those nursery rhymes by heart; she’d have to meekly acquiesce to standing in a warm, six inches deep pool of water while Mummy Jennifer carefully washed her with a flannel. She would know not to make a fuss when her intimate places were scrubbed just that little bit to firmly. She’d have to remember the correct answers when Mummy Jennifer asked her if she’d been a naughty girl and why she deserved a spanking. Finally she’d have to remember the correct responses while Mummy Jennifer covered her in baby powder, dressed her in a pair of shamefully tight, striped pyjamas and tucked her into bed.

 “Night, night baby Mandy. Sleep well.”

 “Night, night, Mummy Jennifer. I love you Mummy Jennifer.”

 Then and only then was she allowed to cry herself to sleep and try to ignore the fact that outside her barred window the sun was still shining.

***

 

She yelped as she was suddenly yanked back into the terrifying present. The tall woman had taken her by the ear and was dragging her across the room.  She was so strong, horrifyingly, intimidatingly strong. Caroline guessed the sisters were roughly the same age as each other but at least twenty years older than her. Even then,  the thought of trying to physically resist either of them was completely impossible

"You really are a naughty little girl, Lassiter. Completely incorrigible, this isn't the first time you've been caught wanking on school property is it?"

"N...no...miss," she managed to mumble despite the pain in her ear.

"What are we going to do with you, girl? You never seem to learn do you?"

"No, miss. I'm awfully s...sorry though miss. Please don't tell mummy, miss."

Although the fear in Caroline's voice was genuine enough, she realised of course that her begging was futile. She knew from her 'homework' how the bizarre scene she was currently embroiled in would play out, but that didn't prevent her from attempting to stick as closely as possible to the script that she'd been required to learn. Once, early in her incarceration, she'd been so traumatised by the situation that she just sat numb and immobile despite the encouragement of the two women. As a result she'd been dragged to the Punishment Room, strapped over a caning bench and thrashed by both women as they took it in turns to flay her backside with what they termed 'prison weight' canes. That incident not only required a two day stay in the 'Sanatorium' as the two women liked to term it, but convinced that unless she took part in their perverse games they were capable of causing her some serious harm.

"Are you right-handed. Lassiter? Or left-handed?" The evil woman knew the answer very well , but of course that didn't stop Caroline stuttering that she was,

"R...right-handed please, miss."

"Stand here, Lassiter, and put out your sinful right hand. Palm uppermost please, you know my requirements."

With a sniff of self pity, Caroline extended her arm as instructed. She looked up at the woman, that was required as well. She could tell that her tormentor took a certain amount of sadistic pleasure in watching her face dissolve into torrents of tears.

With a little smile, Ann raised her cane above her head before bringing it slashing down onto the girl's soft palm. The shriek she emitted was like an aphrodisiac to the cruel woman. Ever since she could remember she'd enjoyed inflicting pain on others. The only explanation she could think of was that her own mother had been a strict disciplinarian. She was emotionally detached and aloof, she never showed the slightest maternal care for either of her two daughters. She'd packed them both off to their rigid, old-fashioned boarding school just as soon as she could, but still punished them regularly and enthusiastically whenever they returned in the holidays. In retrospect, their school had been the perfect place for the sisters to hone their particular interests. St Hilda's was a very traditional, hierarchical sort of place. Certainly not the sort of institution where a girl was encouraged to blub or tell tales, no matter what the provocation. The young ladies were encouraged to stand on their own two feet and to deal with any sort of incident between themselves.

In short it was a bully's paradise, the sort of place where large, aggressive  girls with sociopathic tendencies like the Boothroyd sisters tended to thrive. Even when they were quite young they made other girls lives a misery. Ann had soon established herself as the leading bully of the lower school, even some of the older girls were terrified of her. When Agatha had joined her a couple of years later, their reign only intensified. Girls were regularly beaten and deprived of their weekly pocket money. Even the regularly thrashings the two received from the few mistresses that weren't scared of them didn't deter them. Such was their reputation that several of the teachers actually began to side with them, after all the aggressive behaviour of the two sisters meant that discipline problems among the pupils was kept to a minimum. The Boothroyds were in effect, doing their job for them. In fact, during her last year at St Hilda's, Ann was made Head Girl.

That was when she began to really exert her power. With the help of a couple of the less-intelligent but larger girls she began to actually take over the running of the entire school. She became a sort of de factor staff-member. Girls of all ages lived in terror of being called to her room. She reinstituted the idea of fagging, whereby junior girls were made to skivvy for their older schoolmates. Discipline issues within St Hilda's became almost non-existent. Any girl deemed to be 'getting out of hand', or 'forgetting her place' would simply be called to the new Prefects Court and summarily punished. Ann herself carried out numerous canings and strappings of unfortunate pupils. That was when she realised that she could do almost anything she wanted. She'd known she was a lesbian for a long time, but now she had the authority necessary to indulge herself. Girls she simply liked the look of were called to her room and punished just because she enjoyed punishing them. Her favourites became regular late-night visitors to her private room where the very least they could expect was a vicious spanking and an instruction to enthusiastically lick the Head Girl's pussy.

Her final, and most outrageous, coup took place a couple of months before she left St Hilda's. She'd had an eye on one of the teachers for quite some time. She was an insecure, shy young woman, almost totally unsuited to the harsh environment of a tough boarding school like St Hilda's. Ann was convinced that the Headmistress had recruited Miss Felton fresh out of teacher training college on the basis of her looks alone. She was a very pretty little thing admittedly, blonde and blue-eyed, but she wasn't strong enough to be a teacher in any sort of school, certainly never one as corrupt as St Hilda's. It didn't take long, therefore, for her to be enmeshed within Ann's world. A simple instruction to one of Lucy Felton's favourite pupils to file a complaint against her was all it took. Ann had knocked on her door and explained that the pupil in question had come to her crying and telling her a story she could hardly believe. Apparently she felt that Miss Felton was being overly friendly towards her, touching her inappropriately, making her do things she was uncomfortable with.

The look of sheer horror on the naive young woman's face was simply priceless. Ann would replay it in her mind hundreds of times as she masturbated on her bed. She listened in apparent sympathy to Lucy Felton stuttering her way through excuses and hotly denying what the girl had said.  Eventually she had to tell the teacher, with as much sincerity as she could muster, that due to her position as Head Girl she was duty bound to bring the affair to the attention of the Headmistress. Rather than calling Ann's bluff the young trainee teacher had dissolved into tears and begged Ann not to report her to the notoriously difficult Head. Ann inwardly gloated, the silly little thing was hers now.

And so it turned out, Ann, with the help of her delighted sister, went on to make the innocent woman's life a misery. it was the first time Ann had ever had an adult under her thumb and the feeling of power was quite extraordinary. it started off with small things, having the Mistress give them a lift into town in her car for example, then having her buy them both coffee. Later it progressed to the sisters dictating which clothes she should wear the following day in school. When it became apparent that their victim was too submissive to complain, the sisters became more and more demanding. She would be summoned to Ann's private room and submit to being spanked for being 'too arrogant' while teaching. Spankings progressed to slipperings over her skirt with a gym shoe which would invariably leave the young woman red-faced and tearful. Then her skirt would be pulled up and she would be spanked over her knickers. When she was tired, Ann would hand the gym shoe to her sister who would eagerly carry on the assault.

Soon, Lucy Felton was little more than a servant to the two young tyrants. She was now expected to submit to whatever form of corporal punishment they wanted and carry out any task, no matter how demeaning. The final, ultimate humiliation came when Ann entered her room uninvited late one evening and made her teacher go down on her. it was clearly Miss Felton's first experience of Sapphic love, she cried throughout, a reaction that only excited Ann even more. She held the young woman tightly by her ears and rubbed herself aggressively against her terrified face. As far as Ann Boothroyd was concerned it was the absolute pinnacle of her sexual experience to date. She remembered very clearly ordering Lucy to stick her tongue out and calling her a bitch. As she came all over her teacher's pretty little face, she realised with a fierce stab of pleasure that she could and would do that as often as she wanted. All it would take was planning and organisation. Her final act before leaving was to strip the terrified young teacher and tie her to the foot of her own iron bedstead. She'd then taken a cane she'd procured from one of the gardeners and beaten Miss Lucy Felton's backside with it until it was a corrugated, bloody mess. She'd then stood and masturbated to the screams of her victim before admiring herself in the mirror, taking her bags and leaving her room for the last time . On the way downstairs to her waiting car she'd casually informed the Headmistress that Miss Felton had asked if she might visit her in her room as a matter of some importance.

Impatiently she ordered her latest victim to raise her left hand. Really, she didn't need to make such a fuss! Caroline Lassiter reluctantly held up her other hand and forced herself to look Miss Jane in the eye. There was no alternative, Caroline knew only too well. The cane whipped down for the second time and again she howled in pain. She thrust her injured hand under her armpit and did a little anguished dance while trying to ignore the look of amusement in the vile woman's eyes.

"Right hand again, girl," came the curt order. "I wouldn't have to do this if you weren't such a dirty little girl, now would I?"

"N...no, m...miss." Caroline managed to stutter.

"You know I don't really want to cane you, don't you Lassiter?"

"Yes, miss." Caroline forced herself to agree with the deranged sadist in front of her.

"But if I don't discipline you, heaven knows which grubby little path your life might take. In fact you should thank me for trying to put you back on the straight and narrow, it is for your own good after all."

"Y...yes...yes, thank you, miss. For putting my life back on the straight and narrow, miss."

Caroline hated having to beg and plead like this but her choice was stark, it was either total obedience to the two old perverts or another visit to the Punishment Room. That last visit had burned into her mind the necessity of submission. just the thought of those heavy canes biting into her naked, defenceless buttocks was quite enough to quell any rebellious ideas she might once have harboured. And that was one of the worst things about her abduction and confinement. Before any of it had taken place she would have described herself as an assertive, strong, confident young woman. But now she felt like a powerless, terrified little girl. When she was alone in her little room she tried to rationalise her situation. She was still the same person, she was still Caroline Amanda Lassiter, she was still thirty years old, she was still a dentist, she still owned a house and a car. her parents and her friends still loved her. But it was so hard, she was dressed and treated like a little girl, whenever she caught sight of herself in a mirror she actually looked like a little girl. Her various uniforms and dresses had been chosen, she realised, to emphasise that. Her lack of make-up and her juvenile hairstyles weren't coincidental, everything about her new life was to make the point that she was now a child rather than an adult.

The only weapon she had left, if one could call it a weapon, was to not accept that mindset. she had to keep alive the reality that she was until recently a highly respected professional woman. An intelligent, articulate person with her own fulfilling life outside these four, terrible walls. She forced herself to ignore her childishly decorated little room with its single bed and cartoon-character wallpaper and concentrate instead on her own achievements and many successes. her exams, her sporting prowess on the netball court, the places she'd visited and all the things she'd done. The problem was that the reflections on her past merely brought into focus her terrible present. Why her? Why of all the potential victims in the world had she been chosen? Was it something about her personally that had attracted the kidnappers, those two stomach-churning bullies that had simply removed her from her old life so easily? Had they spotted a weakness in her character, some sort of defect that was obviously apparent? Was she really as assertive as she believed herself to be? She shook her head angrily and tried to force those sort of ideas out of her head. It wasn't her fault that she'd been abducted, she'd been chosen at random, definitely.