A T-Girl and a Tomboy Pt. 02

"So, my mom invites them in and makes me sit on the couch. She tells me about a clinic Dr. Tweed used to run in Washington DC, at St. Elizabeth's Hospital before the 'satanist liberals' shut it down. Then Dr. Tweed talks about the bible and how God made women to serve their husbands, and blah-dee, blah-blah fuckin' blah.

"Tweed tells how my mother regrets letting me 'stray,' but that she has called on him to help redeem my soul. Meanwhile the goons in the lab coats are sneaking down the hall and into my room. I'm sitting on the couch, pissed-off, telling Dr. Tweed that I'm a legal adult and he needs to get the fuck away from me, when one of the goons comes back and dumps my bag of sex toys on the living room floor."

Sandy is furious and sobbing as she gets another rope, climbs the arbor and runs it through a ring at the top of the arch, her leather harness is making creaking sounds as she climbs about and jumps back to the garden path next to Shawna.

"Mom screams and gets all hysterical. She tells Dr. Tweed to just take me and don't bring me back until I'm fixed. The goons try to grab me, so I use my nails to bloody their faces like they teach us in self-defense, you know, so you can get DNA from your attacker? But Dr. Tweed says his papers say that I've been under his care for years, and with my record, and since I've assaulted his assistants, he's going to declare a 5150 hold for my safety. I'm screaming at my bitch-mom while the goons get a gurney out of the van and strap me to it."

Sandy face burns as she takes an end of the hanging rope and ties it to the crotch-rope at the front of Shawna's harness. She pulls out the slack until Shawna's toes can barely touch the brick path. It looks painful but Shawna is in a trance, chest heaving steadily in the bondage.

"They strapped me down tight, took me out to their van and put me in the back. I could see my mom through the windows, crying hysterically and signing papers for Dr. Tweed. I'm screaming at her and trying to fight the goons while they put a gag on me. I'm so fucking stupid. I've had fantasies about this kind of shit, but believe me, it's completely different when it's real."

She loosens Shawna's wrists from the arch, leaving her with no way to relieve the tension from between her legs. Shawna begins to sob, struggling to stay on her toes -- but she doesn't say the safe word. Sandy leaves her there for a minute, watching her wriggle in the harness, trying to keep her weight off of the crotch-rope.

Shawna's pussy must be dripping wet, I can smell her from where I'm sitting, though now that I notice, erotic girl-scent of every kind is all around me.

"When my mom finishes signing papers, Dr. Tweed gets in the van and they take me away. I was too tired to fight anymore, so I just laid there, tied down and gagged, listening to his bullshit while we drive for a couple of hours. He tells me I'm lucky—so lucky, I have a mother who cares so much about me. He says I'm bound for his new 'blessed concept conversion clinic,' where they 'combine old-fashioned discipline with corrective nurturing and spiritual guidance,' where, God willing, they will pray away the gay."

There is a lot of commotion from the spectators. Girls curse Sandy's mom, saying what a monster she is for a variety of reasons.

Sandy ties Shawna's wrists high and wide again, allowing Shawna to pull on the ropes and relieve the tension in her crotch, but it takes constant strength. Tears are flowing down her cheeks freely.

Sandy catches a tear with her finger, as it falls from Shawna's chin.

"When they got me to the clinic, they untied me and had an orderly follow me around for the whole first day. Counseling sessions were in big groups with other 'deviants.' We were supposed to do a 'moral inventory' of all of our evil deeds and desires. We had to go around the circle and talk about our 'worst transgressions' and what our 'worst fantasies' are. Most people were pretty boring and clinical with their descriptions, so when it was my turn, I was real. It didn't exactly go the way they wanted when I started telling the circle of perverts about the finer details of stuff like this."

She slaps the bound girl's ass, making her flinch in the suspension, and leaving a bright red hand-print.

"They said I was being too explicit and was interfering with other patients' progress, so they kicked me out of the group. They put me in another 'counseling' session that was nothing but bible readings. I was a brat and refused to read, so I got in trouble for resisting. It quickly escalated into me getting locked up in the freak-out room.

"They let me scream and pace for hours until was exhausted and fell asleep on the floor. I woke up strapped down to a bed, with Dr. Tweed standing over me, smelling like cheap coffee and free cigars. He said it was up to me how things were going to go. I could go along with his program amicably, and have a great experience that would change my life and save my soul, or I could resist and get a preview of what hell had in store for sinners like me."

The squad falls deathly quiet.

"I called his bluff and picked option two — but it turned out he wasn't bluffing. Dr. Tweed ran a nightmare conversion clinic back in the sixties. His methods were banned for use in public hospitals, but the church had him set up in this private setting. Since I refused to follow his guidelines, he put me into his special experimental program."

Sandy releases the suspending rope from the front of Shawna's crotch rope, and moves it to the back. Another suspending rope is attached between Shawna's shoulder blades. Cheryl helps Sandy hoist Shawna, so she is hanging, face down, completely off the ground with her arms and legs stretched out behind her.

White ropes over the black leotard make a striking contrast as Sandy experiments with Shawna as erotic performance-art.

I'm up on my knees, glued to the scene and the story, when I feel a hand go under my skirt. Raven whispers, "Can I distract you?" She moves closer for better access and gropes me from behind. I reach a hand back between her legs and feel her sopping wet pussy surging with rushes of eroticism.

Some girls bring over another tumble-mat and puddle on and around it. Sheila, Michelle and sober Carrie are kissing and petting while watching the performance. It seems almost normal, like watching a floor routine at the gym.

Sandy sets Shawna into a skydiver pose and continues.

"The next morning, Dr. Tweed prescribes 'Diversional Massage Therapy' to be administered to my body twice a day, in the morning by a bitch nurse and before dinner by a handsome young man. The idea was to make me over-stimulated so I wouldn't crave sin."

There is a collective gasp. All petting stops to pay closer attention to Sandy's story. Surprised questions come from the spectators,

"What? How could that happen?"

"Why would they think they could do that to you?"

"Really, these interns would come in with a clip board. They told me that this was happening and my only choice was to cooperate and be free or resist and the orderlies would be called and I would be bound up for it. Their job was to jack me off before breakfast and again before dinner."

The crowd is completely silent.

Sandy's hard shell begins to crack. She puts her head down and sobs while Shawna swings gently in her bonds, hands and feet twitching as they turn a shade darker from lack of circulation. The ropes are cutting into her hips, shoulders and ribs, and mercilessly chafing between her legs.

Sandy's voice cracks as she struggles to continue speaking. "The bitch nurse would come in first thing in the morning and turn a bunch of bright lights on. She was rude and down to business while she strapped me to the exam table and put my legs up in stirrups so she could stick a cold speculum in me. Then she would interrogate me, asking questions about my sexuality and preferences. She would write down my answers on her forms while randomly pinching my pussy lips or my nipples, making notes about my reactions. I think she was supposed to make me associate women with discomfort.

"The afternoon guy was a cute med-student who was nervous. He was insistent about doing his job, but as long as I 'behaved' he was 'friendly,' and his hands were warm and clean. He was supposed to make me orgasm. At first he didn't know what he was doing and just relied on a vibrator, but as the sessions went on, he started getting the results he wanted by rubbing me with gloved hands. I didn't want to come but I couldn't help it."

Sandy shakes her head and wipes tears from her eyes. She clenches her cheeks and shakes Shawna's ass with both hands.

"I got vibrated and fucked with rubber gloves and it never escaped my mind that my mother was having me institutionally raped."

Sandy, the teary-eyed dominatrix, is fierce as she attaches a rope from Shawna's braid to the rope between her ass cheeks, pulling it tight, pulling her head back, bringing her face up and jutting her chin. Shawna's eyes are open and unfocused, her breathing is slow and regular.

Sandy sits on the ground sobbing, with Shawna swinging above her.

"I'm so fucked up. I am SO fucked up! I can't stand to be touched by anyone anymore, not by Cheryl, not by Jena... I'm so sorry. I want it, I miss it, but it burns! It feels like my skin is peeling off. Pain feels better to me now."

Tears are flowing down Sandy's cheeks as she reaches up and tugs the ropes where they disappear between Shawna's pussy lips. She draws her fingers through puffy lips, cleaved by the rope and the leotard. Shawna's juices have collected in the fabric and fiber. Sandy drenches her fingers in it. Like dripping honey, she holds it front of Shawna's nose, letting the suspended girl catch a whiff of her own scent before plunging it into her mouth.

Shawna is surprised at first, but she sucks and licks and searches for more until Sandy spanks her ass again, triggering an orgasm in the bound girl. Shawna's body convulses and clenches, as the rope completely disappears between her ass cheeks.

Cheryl appears with three other caped and masked girls, and leads them up to the arch. They chant a wordless song as they light their way with thick, red candles, circling around Shawna, gently kissing and tasting her glistening body. They ceremoniously raise their candles and drip hot wax on the straining muscles of her calves, thighs, and ass.

Shawna screams silently as the wax runs across her inner thighs. Eyes pop open when it trickles down the rope in her crotch. With arms tied up behind her, more wax is poured down each of her wrists, down her forearms and past her elbows, down her strong biceps... A hiss escapes her teeth as wax runs through her hairless armpits, down her breasts to drip off of her nipples, forming long hardening stalactites that reach for the ground. Red liquid wax splatters to the bricks of the garden path below. The illusion of blood is chilling.

Sandy holds Shawna's face in her hands and says, "I don't want this to hurt you. I want you to enjoy this intensely, and I want to enjoy you immensely. I would have loved to be tied this way before Dr. Tweed."

"I tried to fight the 'massage' but when they started putting straps on me I started getting all turned on. Am I fucked up because my body enjoyed it?

Sandy loses focus for a moment, then shakes her head. "This wouldn't be fun without a safe word, would it Shawna?" She smacks Shawna's ass again. "Are you okay, sweet girl?" Smack! "Aren't you glad there's a safe word, baby?"

Shawna responds with a faint, "Uh-huh."

"No safe word yet?"

Smack!

In a feint whisper, Shawna says, "Green light."

Spectators laugh and marvel at her endurance, some girls saying how they could never handle it, others asking if they can be next.

"So, I figured that my best chance for getting out of the nightmare was to let them think I was making progress. It made me sick, but I pretended to look forward to the guy coming to my room. I would beg him to stay. I started telling him what a monster the morning bitch was and how she was raping me, but that it seemed like he cared, and that I hoped that someday I'd have a loving husband who could make me feel like he did. He still performed his duties every evening before dinner, and I pretended to look forward to it. It was killing me but it worked. One night he started kissing me.

"I never imagined that kissing could be more intimate than a hand in the pussy, but something about it changed him. He couldn't just molest me anymore. This guy had been making me come for two weeks, but it wasn't until he kissed me that he seemed to give a shit. I told him I was there because of a misunderstanding, and that my girlfriend was just a dear friend and I needed to warn her so this wouldn't happen to her. I begged him to make it so the woman didn't come in the morning anymore, but he said he didn't have the authority. He said they would stop sending her if I made enough progress—they would consider it a good sign if I fought her harder. The next morning when she tried to put the speculum in me, I put my knee in her face and broke the bitch's nose."

"Yeah girl!" Spectators shout.

Sandy pumps her fist in 'Rosy the Riveter' style.

"Yeah? Well I ended up back in the freak-out room with a renewal of the 5150 order, and seventy-two hours of full restraint. Dr. Tweed watched and got his sick jollies as two orderlies strapped me into a straightjacket. They cuffed my feet and left me in the padded room all day. My arms were crossed in front of me and there was a crotch strap that kept rubbing me every time I moved. I was bored out of my mind until figured out how make myself come, then at least, I was able to get some sleep. No before dinner massage those days."

Sandy checks on the darkening color of Shawna's hands and feet.

Inspired by the scene, Raven pushes me face-down on the grass and puts her hand up my skirt. She grinds her crotch in the small of my back, and buggers my pucker through my leotard.

Sandy lets Shawna down far enough to put one foot on the ground with the other behind her. Her wrists are still tied to the arch, so she is stretched out like an ice-skater leaning forward on one foot, arms extended behind her like the wings of a swan. Sandy peels wax from Shawna's body and nibbles it from her nipples.

"So how did you get away?" Michelle asks.

"I'm getting there... patience!"

She collects more glistening pussy juice and puts her fingers in Shawna's mouth again. The bound girl licks and sucks, refreshed by her own flavor.

Sandy continues, "I was restrained full-time for three days for breaking the bitch's nose. The only times I was released was for therapy and treatments and half-hour for meals, three times a day. I didn't think these religious fucks could make it any worse, but then they ordered me to pray. They told me to pray for God's forgiveness."

She shakes her head.

"That evening my personal masturbation-rapist guy felt sorry for me and grew a conscience. When he released me for my evening meal he told me if I wrote a message, he would text it to my girlfriend. So while I'm thinking of what to write, he's talking about how he just came here for an internship, and how he'd never been off his family compound before a year ago. He says he's in love, and that I am the only woman he's ever touched, and that he can't imagine ever touching another. I'm puking in my mouth, but I smiled and thanked him for delivering the message."

"A couple of days later, when it was time for my morning molestation, I hear vehicles pulling up and stopping fast and doors opening and slamming. I hear boots running outside while workers in the hospital watch out the windows, trying to figure why the FBI was there. At first I thought it was a huge raid with helicopters and armored tanks and shit, but it was just some half-assed investigation.

"Since Dr. Tweed ran his illegal diversion therapy practice separately from the main hospital, when the FBI found me in the padded room, they had to follow protocol and get a warrant before they could release me from my 'doctor-prescribed' restraint. I'd already been in the straitjacket all night when they got there. Usually the bitch would at least let me pee before fucking with me, but the FBI wouldn't do anything without orders. My bladder was full and I told them that someone needed to let me out, but investigators were too busy interrogating the hospital staff, trying to figure out what was going on. They didn't know who had medical authority over me yet, so as long as I was 'safe' I was supposed to wait for a doctor's order before my conditions could be changed."

Sandy watches the bound girl lick and suck her own pussy juice off of her fingers.

"They let me get up and walk around but they wouldn't unstrap me so I could pee. I was desperate. I pointed out that bladder infections are a thing, and that forced self-fouling could cause psychological damage that they would be responsible for. They whispered a lot and agents came and went, discussing the situation, until they brought in a nurse from another ward who comes and takes me to the toilet. She undid my crotch strap and pulled my hospital pants down. When I was finished..."

Sandy's voice breaks.

"When I was finished she wiped me up and put me in a fucking diaper! She strapped me back up without my pants, saying this was so they wouldn't have to 'break protocol' again. I was walking up and down the halls in nothing but a straitjacket and a diaper for another two hours before the investigators finally got around to me. They were pissed that the other agents hadn't let me out, shouting that I was the victim, and that they should have been protecting me — not victimizing me further."

Sandy is sobbing, sitting on the brick garden-path in her dominatrix gear, having a long needed cry, while Shawna sways gently above, straining in her bonds.

"Who did you have him send your message to?" Heather asks.

Sandy takes a deep breath, clasps her hands in thanks, and says, "Tonya."

Everyone turns to Tonya who is sitting up on a tumble mat with a bunch of pillows around her.

Tonya says, "I just told my mom what the message said and she did the rest. Until now I didn't actually know what happened. Oh Sandy..."

Nervous Carrie says, "You should have told us earlier, we all support you."

"It was too hard at the time. I was in school the next Monday. All I wanted to do was get back to normal as fast as I could. I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to everyone, especially to you, Cheryl... and to you, Jena. I can't believe I'm telling everyone, but if feels good now. It's so good to finally tell all of you."

Poor Shawna is exhausted and silently crying, unable to balance and hold her weight anymore. She sways in wide circles with most of her weight suspended in the harness.

"What was in the message?" Michelle asks.

Tonya answers, "It said 'Tell Mrs. B she was right about church.'"

Sandy says, "Back at the beginning of the year, Mrs. B told me that she'd heard my mom talking to someone about a new conversion clinic in Nevada. She knows that my mom is a religious whack-job, so when I said that she does everything through her church, Mrs. B said that's what she was afraid of. She looked into it and found out about Dr. Tweed's program. She warned me about it, so when I went missing, I figured that Tonya's mom would know what happened. Since I was taken across state lines, she was able to get the FBI to look into it. Now it's a whole scandal that's probably going to hit the news at some point, probably when the trial starts. I'll have to appear as a witness.

"Meanwhile, my mom is kissing my ass because she's afraid I'm going to inform on her whole church scene. I can't tell her everything that happened to me. She's scared shitless right now, so I'm okay at home until graduation."