Satan's Sisters Series

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The next morning, Heather woke me up by yanking all of the covers off of me.

“Hey!” I mumbled.

I was jolted wide awake when she grabbed my chin and pushed my head down hard against the pillow. My eyes flew open and I found myself staring into Heather’s scowl.

“You’re my b***h now,” she hissed. “If I hear one word of backtalk, I go straight to Dr. Cornell. Do you understand?”

I nodded, wide eyed at the change in Heather. Sure, we had played bondage games together, but that was for fun. Even when she tormented me we giggled about it later on, and she had never caused me serious pain. This was the first time she had anything like real power over me. It was turning her into a real snot. She is so mental sometimes.

The hell of it was, I was starting to like it. Looking back, I realize that Heather understood me better than I did. Of course, Dr. Cornell understood us both.

Huddled there on the bed, I only knew that even though I was mad and scared, and wanted out in the worst way; my p***y was juicing like crazy.

“Get up, you slacker!” she said. “We’re taking a walk down the hall.”

“Chill, Heather,” I tested her a little, even while appeasing her temper. “Just give me a minute to dress.”

I was hoping that if I could get back on an equal footing with her she would lighten up a little. Heather was already dressed, and being in my nightie put me at a disadvantage.

She wasn’t buying it. “No!” she said. “Right now!”

I wanted to snort and tell her to get a grip, but I remembered what was at stake. I didn’t know if Heather could hold me to the bet legally, but her family had enough money and power to trash anyone they wanted to. Heather knew enough personal stuff about me to blackmail me for eternity. She had me over a barrel, and I was about to get f****d.

I followed her out of the room and down the hall to the incinerator chute.

“Strip,” she said.

“Please, Heather!” I put a little whine in my voice. With guys and parents, whining works almost as well as tears, but Heather knew that ploy.

“I didn’t think that I would be calling Dr. Cornell so soon.”

So I pulled off my nightie and held it in front of me, all the while giving Heather this really injured look, so she would know how much I didn’t like this game. She had seen me undressed many times, but today was different.

“Panties, too.”

I tore off my panties, as pissed at myself as I was at her. She warned me to watch my attitude, then told me to throw my clothes into the chute. Hissing through clenched teeth, I opened the chute and dropped in my nightie, my panties, and my self-respect.

“You sleep naked from now on,” Heather announced.

She had me put my hands on the back of my neck so that I couldn’t cover myself and marched me back to the room. A girl came out of one of the rooms as we passed and gawked at us. Heather threw her a wink.

“Sorority hazing,” she explained.

I could hear the girl behind us, whispering frantically to her roommate. Before we reached our room, both of them were standing in the hall, staring at my bare butt while Heather put a hand in the small of my back and pushed me ahead like a political prisoner or something.

“Way cool!” applauded one of the girls.

“Excellent!” said the other.

She took me into our bathroom where a filled enema bag was waiting, and had me crouch down with my face on the floor. The humiliations were coming so fast that I was like in shock or something. I didn’t ask why, just moaned a little when the hot water flowed into my ass. This was incredibly gnarly.

Heather seemed very blasé’ about the whole thing. She leaned against the sink while I kissed the tile with a hose up my ass. She told me how she and Dr. Cornell were best buds because they had become comfortable with their dominant natures. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t sincerely say that I was happy for them.

“Dr. C and I have decided that you need to accept your submissive side,” she said. “This is for your own good, trust me.”

That kind of psychobabble deserved a snappy comeback, and I had a real zinger for her, but I forgot all about it when the cramps hit me.

When the bag was empty and I was ready to explode, Heather made me wait for permission. I had to put a finger over my hole to prevent leakage, while I did a little dance and whined: “Heatheeeer!”

Finally she said, “Okay,” and I ran for it. At least she let me have the bathroom to myself while I took care of business.

When I came out of the shower, Heather had my clothes all laid out for me. She gave me a knit tank top with no bra and my shortest mini-skirt. The enema should have warned me, but I was still surprised when she showed me the butt plug and the leather chastity belt that would keep it inside.

“This little finger will help you stay awake in class.” It was like a small d**k, about an inch thick and five inches long. The base was flared so that it wouldn’t fall in and get lost. I had to get on my knees and suck it like a c**k first, then turn around and raise my butt while she worked a glob of grease into me, twisting her finger around more than I thought she needed to.

“I thought you were my friend!” I was feeling pretty bitchy.

Heather just giggled and slipped the damn thing into me. It wasn’t big enough to hurt, but it felt so—foreign!

“Doctor’s orders,” she chirped. “Dr. Cornell asked me if there was any s****l practice you didn’t enjoy. I told her that you were an anal virgin. So you had better learn to like it; because you get to wear this contraption five days a week.”

She was right. I love to f**k and suck, but never let any guys in the “back door”. I thought it was major gross, not to mention painful. This wasn’t s*x anyway, more like something medical.

Heather pulled the crotch strap tight against my p***y and between my cheeks, locking it with a padlock that was cute but effective.

“I hope you can hold your water until I take this off,” she teased.

She gave me a pair of high heeled shoes to complete the outfit. I knew from experience that walking in those shoes would make me bump and grind like a hooker trolling for dates.

I went directly to class, took the shortest way there, and didn’t look up until I was safe in my seat. Nobody said anything to me, but I couldn’t help feeling that everyone knew I had a plastic d**k shifting around in my ass with every step I took.

Dr. Cornell did know, of course, and she watched from the corner of her eye while I squirmed around in my seat all morning. I knew better than to close my legs by now, so she had a clear shot of the strap running through my slit every time she looked my way. She knew what I was sitting on.

She lectured us about some creepy guy named Torquemada. I had a hard time taking notes. My ass kept clenching around that thing, and I had to relax so it wouldn’t hurt. When I did that, it would ooze in deeper, like it was alive. I sat on one cheek, then the other. The damn strap was right on my clit, and that was making me horny.

Ass aching and bladder bursting, I barely made it back to the dorm; where Heather made me thank her for my plug before she took it out.

On Wednesday, Dr. Cornell had me stay after class again. When we were alone, she said, “Turn around and bend over.”

I did it. I could feel her hands lifting my skirt and spreading my cheeks. It was just like the last time she touched me. There were like little sparks of electricity coming out of her finger tips when she ran them down the crack of my ass. She stopped when she got to the plug, and tapped it with a long red nail, sending faint vibrations into me.

“It looks good on you,” she remarked. Then she laughed. “Sorry, wrong preposition, in you.”

She dismissed me then. I had been inspected.

Red faced, I scooped up my books, spilling my notes all over the floor. I could feel her eyes burning me when I stooped to gather them up and jam them back into my folder. I was so out of there!

On Thursday the plug was bigger.