Stacy's Punishment

"Now the two slaves are chosen." Anya said. "We can begin the induction. The **** formerly known as Stacy, would you please approach?"

"Y-yes." Stacy said, trembling a little as she moved towards the older woman. Her face was bright red, and her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She tried hard not to look at the crowd, turning her face away from them, and directing her eyes to the ground. when she had come before the staff member, Anya's hand lashed out suddenly, the sharp retort of flesh on flesh filling the hall. Stacy staggered to the left, more surprised than hurt, a red mark appearing on her cheek where she had been struck.

"You are a **** now." Anya said to her. "You do not get to address me as an equal. That's for students, and you are not one of those. You lost that privilege along with your name. Now, what do you call me?"

"M-miss?" Stacy said, still shocked at the sudden attack. Her eyes were wide, and she was rubbing the side of her.

"Miss is acceptable." Anya said. "Until your master tells you to call people something else, you will both address them in a respectful manner, mindful of their superior position to you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, miss." Stacy said.

Anya's gaze turned to Lisa, the dark haired twin was frowning, again wondering if she had gone too far with the notebook. But she knew she could do nothing about it right then, so she just slowly nodded as well, her throat dry.

"Yes, miss Anya."

"We'll start with you." Anya said, stepping towards Stacy. The girl flinched as she felt Anya's probing hands. The older woman's fingers slowly traced their way over her skin. She jumped as she felt fingers on the lips of her pussy, gently peeling her labia apart. Stacy shook her head, as though trying to ignore the feelings that even then were rushing through her body. She felt something small and hard pressed against her inner self, and then gasped as she felt it enter her body. It wasn't a dildo, but rather seemed to be an oval somewhat larger than a marble. it felt cold inside of her, making her shiver a little at the point of contact, but it also felt strangely heavy, and with wires that ran from it to something that was still clutched in Anya's hand. A moment later, Anya thumbed a switch, and Stacy jumped as it started to vibrate inside her. Instantly, she felt herself begin to become aroused, the motion inside her almost impossible to ignore.

The crowd peered forwards, someone whooped in the distance. Her hands curled even tighter, as her breath started to hitch.

"How does that feel?" Anya asked.

"I-it feels strange, miss." Stacy managed.

"Oh, come now, don't tell me you've never touched yourself before?"

"Y-yes!" Stacy yelped as she felt the vibrator kick up a setting. "Y-yes I have miss. But never like this. Never with a...with a..."

"With a toy?"

"Mhm."

"Well, in that case you have an interesting time ahead of you, don't you?" Anya said. Swiftly, she reached towards Stacy again, taking the control for the vibrator and tucking it into her collar.

"Now, I want you to go to the door of the building." Anya said, gesturing through the crowd. "And then come back. Just to make sure you don't forget your position again, do it on your hands and knees, do you understand?"

Stacy's eyes went wide. She looked towards the far door, measuring the distance, and then to the crowd, who would be sitting on either side of whichever path she choose. Then, finally, her eyes fell to the wire which snaked out between her legs, and the slowly building feeling that was coming from within her.

"Please no." She said. "I don't want to do that in front of so many people..."

Anya laid a hand on her shoulder, almost comforting. "That's why we're making you do it, ****. Your new role is going to be very hard on you, so we need to break you to these things now. I know you don't want to, but will you want to do everything your master tells you to? I think not. You'll have to anyway, though. Just like you'll have to do this. Now go, and don't forget that we all believe in you."

Stacy's eyes moved to the door again, and then looked to Anya's face, perhaps searching for some mercy. There was none, of course. The Rulebook had seen to that. She genuinely believed every word she had said, that she was doing her best to help, and that this was all just something that had to happen and was in the best interest of all involved. That was why she didn't break, didn't bend even as Stacy silently begged her for mercy. Even as the blond haired girl slowly lowered herself to her hands and knees, and started off the stage.

Stacy moved slowly. She could feel the eyes on her body, the whispers of the crowd as she crawled. Crawled like an animal on her hands and knees, her blond hair falling down around her. She could feel the sting of tears forming in her eyes, gravity pulled on her breasts. Her nipples dangled. The collar around her throat was tight, and the vibrator in her pussy buzzed a constant motion. She groaned, trying to hide her growing arousal from the crowd around her. It was natural, or so she told herself. She was being stimulated, the fact that it was **** on her meant less than nothing to her body.

Slowly, inch by inch, she crawled. The stage getting further away. Her breath came in ragged pants, and she could feel the soaking wetness of her pussy. Each motion of her legs jolted the vibrator slightly, making it somewhat unpredictable, and hard to resist. Before long, she was biting her lip, trying to avoid making sound. The worst part was that she learned the vibrator was set to a cycle, starting low and then growing more and more intense as it went. During the early parts, she could move easily enough, but she had to focus more and more as it built, making her motions more and more obviously awkward.

The floor felt cold against her bare skin, the gaze of her classmates felt boiling hot. Her lower self pulsed with the vibrator at the core of it all, sending waves of motion through her folds. She wanted to cry or scream, but could do neither, instead, she focused on the goal, trying to reach the door as quickly as she could. She kept her head down, not looking at the people she passed, even as she felt her own liquid begin to drip down her leg. She froze, almost unbelieving, but then, she had to start again before people noticed.

Stacy moaned now, each step was an effort for her as she felt her body burn with desire, her skin tingling with pleasure. She could not believe this was happening. Some part of her was horrified. Horrified that all of the people who had known her at college were now seeing her naked and crawling across the floor. Seeing her get off like this, as a tool, a ****, it was more shameful than she had ever expected.

Stacy did her best to resist the climax she could feel building. She truly did. It was one of the hardest things she had ever tried to do. Like the vibrator itself, it was slow at first, building slowly, in waves. It felt like a tightness between her legs, a sense of heat spreading through her lower body. A tingling in her pussy that foretold a rush of pleasure. She shook her head, trying to fight it back by sheer strength of will alone. For a while, this worked. She started to measure time in cycles instead of minutes. When the vibrator became intense, she would slow almost to a crawl, just doing her best to resist the feeling. When it became slow, she would move as fast as she could. In this way, she made one cycle, two cycles, three cycles... but mounting tightness in her chest, belly and pussy warned her that she was getting close. She closed her eyes, focused her mind, kept going, moving as quickly as she dared.

Four cycles, five cycles, six cycles...

By now, she could almost no longer resist. She was clenching her lower body in denial, refusing to allow the inevitable. Her lower mouth felt like it was on fire, even the gentle touch of the air was a torment against her skin. She moaned with each ''step'', gasping for air as she went. Her limbs were shaking, trembling with the effort of suppressing her orgasm. She knew that she couldn't last forever, she'd pushed her own limits for long enough that she knew she was already well passed them. But some part of her, some stubborn, defiant core, refused to let her cum right here, in front of everyone. Even as her body begged for release, even as it felt as though the very air were being stolen from her lungs, it refused to relent.

Slowly, inch by inch and cycle by cycle, Stacy closed on the door.