New World Order (2/3)

The mistress, who sat there watching quietly so far, finally interrupts her:
“Be calm darling... Remember, you only get smoothness, if you create it yourself first. Give the young lad some time...
This is still a lesson after all...!”
“I apologize, mistress... I just wanted to avoid giving them any chance to release their physical aggressiveness...”
“How well I now, darling...! And you're quite right to be aware of that. Nonetheless they are all well cuffed, and accessible to any disciplinary action you choose. So just relax...!”
“Yes mistress...
So handle your shirt first before getting up!” she tells him, trying to keep her patience.
“I... I will...” he responds. And manages to at the end. Now they again all stand there, lined up in front of the desk naked and shivering, trying to hold their sighs, to not raise any more anger of their young instructress, but not managing it all time long, earning dare-you-looks, from her, who herself searches for an opinion in the eyes of her mistress now.
“Just go ahead.... You're doing quite fine so far. Just stay relaxed...!”
So the girls walks forth to the sturdy desk, commanding the first one:
“You! Step forward, and bend over the table!”
The one, a older one, she wonders if he might be even older than thirty, asking herself how he managed to make it up to such an age, allowing herself some slight feelings of respect towards him, as he must have gained quite control over his physical impulse for getting so far. He has put his chest flat on the lacquer surface, awaiting things to follow. She raises the rod meanwhile, leading a key down to his hands, asking herself why not just more men were like this one, which would have rendered things much much smoother. She finds the lock and opens the cuff, ready to strike at any sign of resistance.
“Put your hands on your back... Calmly!” she orders. He does, his knees shivering from such an become uneasy position. She relocks the cuffs in his back, then stepping right behind him, shoving his legs apart with her knee, grabbing one of the plugs placed on the table earlier and drives it up his anus with one continuing move. His body stiffens and he groans. She reaches under his body, to check his penis for erection. Positive, and she sighs, uttering to herself, but so that he can hear it as well:
“Violence and again violence, is that all you guys understand? Don't you have no feelings? No emotions...?”
He doesn't answer. She keeps his erected piece in her hand, grabs a transparent condom from one of her pockets, slips it over with an uneasy feeling.
The next one is younger, probably 22 or 23 but certainly not much older. The procedure she applies is the same, only when reseizing his wrists, she remarks rather fresh vertical scars on them. Must be one of the suicidal ones. Not able to impose it on someone else, turning his aggressiveness against himself. Pitiable creature almost, but only as long one not knows what lies behind such behaviour.
So she proceeds. Meditating on the backgrounds of her work, accompanied by the content moanings of her mistress.
Yes they are pitiable, but at the one hand, they demand severe control by all females to keep up a balanced and peaceful society. It's not that some liberty hasn't been tried. But it had failed. She read all about it in the manuals. And now they had to stick to the more severe kind of tutoring. That being sad somehow, there just was no alternative way.
She finally had reached to the last, the very young one, that was shaking badly.
“Just keep it still!” she says, trying to rather convey a sense of understanding, than to express her continuing impatience with him. But his trembling goes on. She plugs him nonetheless, with quite a violent move, he queecks, his body retracting. But this time the check fails, he is limb like a dried out garden hose. She pulls back for a moment. Reflects about what to do next, tries to get in the plug just a little bit deeper. With him palpitating as only result. Then she tries, to get the rubber on his penis nevertheless, but again to no avail.
Helplessly she turns to her older sister:
“Mistress, this one just doesn't get it...!
How should i proceed?”
Having been watching mutely all time long, she now raises, with a faint smile on her lips, comes up toward her apprentice.
“Darling, you've done such good work so far, but this now is one thing, that makes out a real instructress. This means knowing what you won't find in the textbooks. So i ask you to watch and lean!”
She comes up to the young guy, still bend over the table shivering:
“So our little piggy doesn't get a hard one, hmm?” she ask in an emotion clad way, which even towards youngest instructees is definitley been asked to avoid by the counseling sisters voice. Swiftly she slaps her flat hand on his buttocks, making them wabble, going on stroking over them in continuing circles, shifting forward then, reaching his piece and professionally and caring it once, pulling his foreskin back from his glans. He sighs softly, having him made aroused enough, she gets over the condom, haven't taken more than 2 minutes all in all.
“See...? They may be mannerless brutes, but a lady's emotional touch always turns out to be more powerful. That's why we are to guide society after all...
You now may raise. “ directed to the donator.
Once again, they're lined up neatly one next to the other, looking shamefully to the ground not to arouse any dismay. They are just one step closer to final treatment.
“Allow me to interfere for one more time, my dear!” the older sister says, getting in posture right before the guys:

New World Order (1/3)

A dark room, clean, windowless and nearly empty, except for six stools, some more chairs and one single slightly more convenient armchair. In one corner, there is a tiny but strong desk. Just under the ceiling a massive beam runs all along from one side of the room to the other.

A thin ray of light cuts into the room as the senior lady is entering, pulling in air, filled with the scent of past fear and exhaustion. She is around 50, and dressed all in black. She presses the air out of here lungs into the void. After her follows a young woman in her mid twenties, also completely in black.

“So let's get ready for the day!” the older lady says. Clapping her hands together, breathing once more heavily. The younger one switches on the light, filling the room with light, reflected by the naked walls.
The girl at once grabs one stool after another, and arranges them just under the beam, until there are 5 pieces put up in a row.
“And don't worry about, what the distinguished ones say. They might convince themselves to despise you, but deep inside they are pretty jealous for you, because they know quite well about the liberty you have inside these walls, my dear... And sooner or later, you will understand that. And you will derive joy out of that, too...!”
“Yes mistress!” she replies, rearranging each of the stools a bit to make their order just a little more perfect, then wiping their surface with her bare hand.
“You really don't have to that. And you are well aware of that, aren't you darling?”
“I just...”
“I ask you to just stop it! Now please...!”
“Yes mistress!”

The girl looks around the room, not quite sure what to do next, but urged to do just something. Meanwhile, the senior lady grabs one of the black latex pinafores, hanging from a hook at the wall, and covers her front with it, wrapping the lashes around her waist and finally fixes them tight in her back.
“The desk! Would you put it near the door? That's where we'll need it after all.”
The apprentice doesn't reply this time, instead hurries to follow the request, while the lady slips her left hand into a latex glove, and unrolls it up her arm.
“Probably a little bit farther from the door, so our clients fit in between door and desk.” alongside covering her right arm.
“Please put the plugs on the surface now, and then make sure you get dressed in time.”
The lady looks through the room, inspecting the put up scenery, gets a rather satisfied look, then moves forward and drags the sturdy armchair, closer to the beam and sinking into the soft cushion, stretching her legs, taking one more deep breath, whereas the girl now gets into her pinafore.
“Why not get some pleasure from one of our donators today...? Would make you more relaxed...
I can tell you that!”
“I don't know...” the girls responds hesitatingly,
“I just don't want to get it unsmooth today. Since i've never carried it out all on my own so far...”
“Just you don't you worry so much, darling! I will be here all the time...!”
“I'd rather just not... If mistress isn't displeased by that.”
“See! it's not that I am asking you to... It's just what i suggest you from my emotional point of view. I want you to carry it out just as smooth and elegant, as you want to, precious...!”
The girl is ready now too, both ladies' bodies, young and experienced, shimmer from the pale light on their .
“How you just look gorgeous, my dear. Fits you really well that one! And you'll make quite an impression on the donators too...!”
“Do you really feel that way?” the young one asks shyly.
“Certainly...! But now don't forget our tools of work!”
“Yes mistress!” the apprentice responds, grabs a red bag, she put under the table earlier, and gets out cords and shiny s-shaped hooks, counts 5 each, and puts the rest back into bag. Walks towards the stools, steps on the first one, reaches up and attaches one hook to a small iron loop in the beam, all under the eyes of her experienced sister. She continues with the four being left. After having accomplished that, squatting next to her mistress, starting to tie nooses out of the plain cloth.
“So you really never entered one between your legs...?”
“N...no...
Isn't it thought to be disgraceful in the opinion of our counselling sisters after all...? And aren't there to learn strict lessons for such things? I didn't wont to learn a lesson because of that, because of men...! I want to serve our society, i want to discipline men rather then obtain unsmooth pleasures from them...!”
“My dear, i am certain one day you will realize, that opinions expressed by the counselling sisters are one thing, undoubtedly a precious guideline for our society, but as long as you don't hurt any feelings..., its just fine...! And the sisters' perception doesn't reach inside these walls...
“I see, mistr...” she's interrupted by a loud knocking noise against the door, echoing in the wide empty room.
“I beg you” the lady calls out, the door opens and in steps a skirt uniformed guard:
“I am bringing you the dicks!” she calls, “five pieces of muscular horny dicks, ready to learn their final lesson!”
“So I beg you to enter them...” the lady voices in an official melody.
The guard leaves the room again, her instructions dimmed by massive walls and door:
“So you want to-be-rapist pricks. It's your mistresses waiting inside, ready to tell you a final lesson. So move right in, predatory scum!”
Thus hesitantly entering five young men, between 20 and 30 years of age. Looking uncertainly around in the room, their eyes quickly hooked by the view of the beam, letting them positively know, which kind of lesson awaits them.
The guard steps in behind, shoving her boots to form an open triangle on the floor.
“I could stay... Just in case atmosphere might drop. I could shoot them in the belly, in case they turn unease, or even aggressive.”
Heavy respiring from the five men, finally wholly realising their fate.
“I appreciate your concern,” the mistress states, “but my apprentice and me are quite at ease about handling a pack of dick driven guys...
“See...,” she whispers to her disciple, “everyone goes for it, dear...!
I ask you to leave now...” towards the guard.
“Thank you! And i wish you a smooth lesson...” off.

The older sister, arranges hair armchair in a way, she can better see the group of men, wearing simple but clean grey shorts and thin shirts of the same colour. Their hands are cuffed in front of their bodies.
“It's up to you now, darling” the experienced one whistles. The younger sister instantly gains posture, pulls a shiny rounded aluminium rod from her belt then commands:
“Undress! At once!” her words impact on the males and one after another pulls his pants down, following with their shirts, what poses some difficulties for them, since cuffed, but they manage it, as already used to such introductions to up following lessons, baring their bodies, their penises and their marks received from former physical education, obviously having been without satisfying effects. Only one of them doesn't get it straight, catches himself in the shirt with his head, pulling and at once trying not to loose balance.
“What are you waiting for, prick!” the girl shouts to him. “Is violation on your mind keeping you from doing what you've been asked...?”
“No mistress... Please just a mo...ughh...!” the instant blow he receives from her rod, interrupts him, bringing him down easily and he lands very uneasy.
“Get up, scum...!” she yells at him, none of the other males looking over to them, well aware to not be intercepted by her fierce regard, “Not enough energy for discipline? Uncontrolled aggression is all what your kind is capable of....!
Get up already...!” she screams...
“At once...” he tries to obey, but still doesn't manage it, his head and hands wrangled together, covered by the shirt. She raises the rod, ready to bring it down on him...

My Landlady!

She is certainly around her fifties but somehow preserved a youthlike appearance. She has dark hair reaching her shoulders. Her look is at once warm and frightenly deep. The one thing i remarke about her at once are the shoe liners rendering her toes, promissing she would slip her feet into soft ballerinas.
She is engaging into a talk with me, telling me about herself and her life, about her writing poetry and stuff...
But i lack any attention for her talk as my look wanders from from the soft cloth covering the shape of her feet into the bottomless depth of her eyes and back.
Anoyed by such disrespect, she decides to take severe measures against my behavior.

Eventually she slips into her shoes, drags me out on open land to a deserted sanctuary. She strips me naked there. Slings a rope over the beam of the entrance gate, all silent without any word. she strings me up from that beam naked, making me dance.
And a goup of schoolgirls passing stop by to giggle over my involuntary erection.
She leaves me there, strung up and motionless, returning home in silence, writing down a poem on justice served, saving my existence through the means of her words, having given it a meaning at last...