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Friday Night Barb

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When, finally, they had her remove her bra and panties and appear naked for the cameras, Barb cried in embarrassment. Disgusting, flagrantly filthy and inviting poses followed. Displaying her most intimate parts like meat on display in a grocery.

At last, Jones had her stop, the cameras went down, and Barb assumed her torture was over. But these cruel men had worse in store.

They posed her on her knees on the hard, stone floor with her hands cuffed behind her. Then each had her suck his cock while the other two filmed it. When each came, she swallowed some, while a lot dribbled down her mouth and onto her breasts. After three, her stomach was churning, her mouth tasted horrible, and thick cum covered her chin and made a sloppy mess of her chest.

Now Barb felt degraded beyond belief.
 
Without allowing her to clean herself, the sergeant had her put the schoolgirl blouse back on, but only that and leave it unbuttoned. Jack and the captain each pulled out handcuffs. In a few moments, they had her cuffed spread-eagled to the bars. The three then each took a still camera and began photographing her from every angle and close-ups of her cum-crusted face and nipples and pussy. Barb thrashed at her bonds, wanting desperately to escape this exposure, but in vain.

Over the next hour, they manhandled her into various positions, each seeming more embarrassing and humiliating than the last: Cuffed over a bench with her ass in the air; suspended upside down from the ceiling, her arms tight behind; cuffed spread-eagled to the cell bed as if waiting to be fucked; even sitting naked on the filthy cell toilet.
 
At last, Jones said, “That’s a wrap,” and had the others release her. He led them back up to the original meeting room, the other two pulling her by the arms as she seemed to have lost all will. He threw Barb the bag with her own clothes and told her to get dressed. Being covered and not looking like a tramp for the first time in several hours, made the girl feel slightly better. But the horror of how she had been exposed and photographed was stamped indelibly on her mind.

Jones handed her a small bag with clothes. “You come back next Friday dressed in this,” he said. “You be on time or you will have a real sore butt. And don’t dream of a no-show. Quarter after eight, you’re not here, your pictures go on the internet and your school’s website.”

Jack added, “Don’t tell anyone. We know where you live and I swear we’ll kill your parents, your two brothers and your sister, before your eyes, slowly!” Barb felt a terrible surge of horror at his words. She nodded yes.

Back at the mall, Barb climbed into the car with David. She only mumbled a response to his greeting and they drove home in silence, Barb staring fixedly ahead. She went straight to her room and then took what was becoming her regular Friday Night medication, a long hot shower to try to wash off the shame. It didn’t work. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours before unconsciousness mercifully came.
 
At last, Jones said, “That’s a wrap,” and had the others release her. He led them back up to the original meeting room, the other two pulling her by the arms as she seemed to have lost all will. He threw Barb the bag with her own clothes and told her to get dressed. Being covered and not looking like a tramp for the first time in several hours, made the girl feel slightly better. But the horror of how she had been exposed and photographed was stamped indelibly on her mind.

Jones handed her a small bag with clothes. “You come back next Friday dressed in this,” he said. “You be on time or you will have a real sore butt. And don’t dream of a no-show. Quarter after eight, you’re not here, your pictures go on the internet and your school’s website.”

Jack added, “Don’t tell anyone. We know where you live and I swear we’ll kill your parents, your two brothers and your sister, before your eyes, slowly!” Barb felt a terrible surge of horror at his words. She nodded yes.

Back at the mall, Barb climbed into the car with David. She only mumbled a response to his greeting and they drove home in silence, Barb staring fixedly ahead. She went straight to her room and then took what was becoming her regular Friday Night medication, a long hot shower to try to wash off the shame. It didn’t work. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours before unconsciousness mercifully came.
Another wellwritten series of episodes chronicling Barb`s downward spiral. Surprisingly, you have Barb in a pseudo schoolroom,dressed in an abbreviated parody of a school uniform and there is not a cane or paddle to be seen. Your self restraint is to be commended !!
 
But enough about your faculty meeting. What did you think of PrPr's lastest instalments?

Giggle snort :p


I managed to hack into the most recent issue of "Good Girls Gone Bad!"
Entering the Cell
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Barb Teases
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Barb services the cocks
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Schoolgirl on her knees
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That second “service” pic? .... I don’t do that! :mad:
 
Week ending Friday, 9th of March, 2001

Sunday March 4th

Barb spent most of the weekend in bed. Three weeks of soul shattering sexual exploitation and humiliation was too much for sensitive eighteen-year-old girl. Her appetite was gone and her digestion shot. In addition, all of the normal supports available in such a situation were denied her. Limited and not very close friends at school were no help; her family wasn’t one to share such issues – and even if they were, she was terrified of bringing the violence home to them.

Raised in a traditional Scandinavian Lutheran faith with similar reticence to the sharing of personal feelings, Barb had been, with her age and the era, drifting away from its fold for years. Even so, there had been little in the simple theology given in Sunday School, to deal with the oppressive evil she was facing.

Barb’s mother was caring and worried about her daughter, but Barb insisted it was just some “bug” that had her down. Since she wasn’t missing school, no suspicion of malingering arose. The rest of the family expressed the usual restrained sympathy. Her father even offered to read to her (as he had often done when she was little – at the time it had meant a lot to the child that her distant father included her in his cerebral musings). While this was, by his standards, a major expression of concern, Barb politely refused.

David said nothing to her all weekend. But he stuck his head in the door at least two times an hour with a look of deep concern on his face. Something in her brother’s love and concern touched Barbara deeper than any of the other family members.
 
With Jones directing, and the other two snapping and filming, Barb began to act the schoolgirl slut role. First, he had her smile invitingly and run her tongue out and over her lips. Then stick out her chest and use her hands to cup her breasts upward. Next, she got up and bent over the desk as if looking for her pencil while sticking her tight little ass at the cameras. Jones had her stand that way and pull up her skirt to reveal her sheer panties.
Then Jones got down to serious business, requiring Barb to begin stripping: slowly unbuttoning her blouse and peeling it off her arms, lowering the zipper on the skirt while rotating her hips seductively, and then pushing it down over her flared hips and onto the floor. Standing in almost transparently sheer bra and panties, he had her assume increasing provocative than outright obscene poses. All the time, the electronic “snick” of the digital camera told Barb that her humiliation was being captured in high-definition. The cat calls and groans of the captain with the video camera, confirmed that a full action movie was also being created.
When, finally, they had her remove her bra and panties and appear naked for the cameras, Barb cried in embarrassment. Disgusting, flagrantly filthy and inviting poses followed. Displaying her most intimate parts like meat on display in a grocery.
Degraded, humiliated, demoralized, mortified, disgraced, humbled, shamed, cheapened, demeaned ... what a night!
At first glance it looks degrading, humilating and so on, but it is also an unpayable unpayed experience which Barb may be grateful for one day. Not that a concrete situation comes to mind, but one never knows.
And if Barb ever meets the man of her dreams and learns that he is a bit kinky - she can smile and say: "Been there, done that!"
 
Monday March 5th

By Sunday evening, Barb had recovered enough to join the family for dinner. Still shaken, she said very little during the meal. The others, as if to make up for Barb’s usual opinionated interjections, were somewhat more talkative than usual.

Monday, Barb went to school. Even alone and isolated, it was somewhat encouraging to be in “normal” and familiar surroundings. Sitting alone at lunch, which had become normal, was almost a relief. If Barb had sat with someone, they might have asked her “what’s up?” Since her life and mind was dominated and terrorized by the cops, there was no way she could make harmless small talk. All she really could think about was the last three Fridays…and the one coming up!

And she couldn't stop dreading all those pictures and videos.
 
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Wednesday March 7th

Things at school were going a little better all the time, but that didn’t make Barb feel any better. Friday was approaching fast. She didn’t think she could survive another session like last week!

When she got home on Wednesday from school, the house was empty, except David, who was just headed out. As she greeted him warmly, he stopped and stared at her face.

“What’s wrong, Barb? (he emphasized Barb, to show he knew how she felt about Barbie) You don’t seem yourself.”

“Oh, I think it's just that flu lingering from the weekend.”

David had a concerned look. “I think it’s more than that. Come on Barb, you know you can trust me.” He put his hand on her shoulder, “tell me what’s bothering you.”

The touch felt so good and his kind, handsome face was so gentle, she almost told him. But her fear was too great.

“Honestly, Dave, I’m fine, thanks.”

“OK, Sis, if you say so,” he walked to his car but looked back at her entering the house.


In the house, Barb almost cried as she hated lying to her brother. But she had to. Jack was so scary.


Over the next two hours, alone in the house, Barb had three panic attacks, thinking about the evil cops.
 
Thursday March 8th

At dinner Thursday, Barb was very quiet again, thinking about the next night rapidly approaching. She barely listened to the table talk. Then, she heard her mother asking her a question.

“Well Barbie, do you need that?”

“What? I… I didn’t hear, I’m sorry.”

“You are distracted these days, aren’t you?” her mother commented more as a statement than a question. “David said he would be going to the Mall tomorrow night and asked if you needed a ride. You father and I have another night out.”

Barb turned to David in astonishment. How did he know she’s be going again? It was nice to have someone else bring up the topic, and yes, she felt less uncomfortable with him than pretending with her father or, God Forbid, her mother.

“Yes, I do. Thank you very much David,” she said with a little more emotion than was typical at the Moore dinner table. Barb felt some stares and lowered her head and went back to pushing her food around. At least all this stress was keeping her from eating too much!
 
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