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Emily’s turn

Once Rape Club took over the running of state education, separate boys and girls schools were immediately re-introduced.  The boys continued with a standard education, learning all the things they would need to know to continue to run business, society, governments.

Girls were taught domestic servitude and sexual slavery. Every Friday afternoon one girl from each class was randomly selected, to be driven to the nearest boys school and be gang-raped, one girl for each class. Afterwards the boys graded the girls and the notes were returned along with the girls so that their performance could be reviewed once they got back to their own school.  Correct behaviour earned the girls rewards, just as just as incorrectly behaviour earned punishments.    Today Emily was one of the girls selected. She looked away as she stripped; the flashes from the camera’s on the boys phones were blinding her.  Soon her pictures would be shared online, but she would never see them.  Cunts were not allowed computers, smart phones, or access to the Internet under the new regime.  They did not need them.

Once she was naked each boy took it turns to come to the front of the class and inspect her.  Groping her breasts and ass, pushing her legs apart and slipping fingers inside her cunt.  A couple of the boys had pinched and twisted a nipple to gauge her reaction to pain.  They seemed to nod in approval.  All the boys made notes in the pads they carried before returning to their seats. Once she had been inspected by everyone, including the boys teacher Mr Jonson, she was led to the gyno exam table.  Her neck and wrists were strapped into place, and her ankles placed and strapped into the stirrups. Mr Jonson told to the boys that today’s class was going to be an anal only class and he invited Jake, the class Prefect, up to the front of the class.  As class Prefect, Jake was taught certain skills not taught to all of the boys, and today he was going to learn something new.

Mr Jonson asked the boys to gather round the gyno table and get a good view, most of the boys started to record with their phones.

Before they started using Emily’s asshole, Jake was going to learn how to staple a Rapedolls cunt lips together to prevent her cunt from getting any cock. Emily’s eyes widened like saucers, did she really hear that correctly?  Surely not, she must have misheard.  

To Emily’s horror though she realised she hadn’t.  Mr Jonson handed Jake a pair of latex gloves, and as he put them on Mr Jonson took the stapler from his desk and checked it was fully loaded.  Jake’s teacher started to explain how it should be done, but Emily didn’t hear the words.  She was in a state of shock and her senses had partially shut her off from what was going on around her.

She was brought back to reality sharply however as the first shots of pain screamed their way from her cunt up through her torso.  She bucked violently, her back arching and hips squirming as she tried vainly to free herself.  Seconds later the next wave of pain hit her.  She was screaming, she knew she was screaming but she couldn’t actually her anything.  She was in a weird trance like state, a mixture of fear and pain, that she had never felt before.  The pain lessons at her own school had been harsh, but they had not prepared her for this.  

This was on a whole new level.

Emily wasn’t sure how long it took.  Probably only a couple of minutes for Jake to successfully seal her cunt lips together with 8 staples.  What she did know was that it felt like 30 minutes and 100 staples.. She laid their limp, weak and gently sobbing as the boys formed an orderly queue and took it in turns to take a close up photo of her cunt. She was aware that the straps were being untied and then the felt strong arms grabbing her on each side, helping her up as she was still in shock and it was difficult for her to stand.  Clearly they had done this before and knew what to expect.

They helped her walk over the Mr Jonson’s desk.  A couple of times she her legs gave way and she collapsed but Mr Johnson and the boy helping carry her kept hold of her so she didn’t fall.  Her progress had been slow, each step was agony it was impossible to walk without the staples biting into her cunt lips.  

She was stood in front of the desk, facing it, her back to the class. She felt a hand on her back, gently pushing; she knew she had to bend over.  She complied.  Tits and stomach resting on the desk, Emily felt her legs being pulled apart and her ankles tied to the legs on each side of Mr Jonson’s desk.  Her wrists were cuffed together and the cuffs fixed in place on a clasp on the desk so that her arms stretched out in front of her.  

Emily felt someone grab her ponytail.  A rope was placed next to it and then several cable ties were used along the length of her ponytail to quickly fasten the the rope and her ponytail together as one. The extra length of rope that extended beyond her ponytail was then pulled, yanking Emily’s head backwards so her head now faced forward, instead of resting face down on the desk were it had been a second ago.  Emily could her the rope being clasped into place, she wasn’t sure were, all she knew was that she couldn’t move her head, she was facing forward and would stay that way until she was released.

In front of her stood a small black object, it wasn’t very big but from the lens on the front she could see it was a webcam.  Although cunts were not permitted access to the internet they were taught what it was, and they knew they would spend the majority of their lives being displayed on it for Men’s pleasure.  Webcams were permanently installed in every part of girls schools so that every aspect of their life and their training was streamed live to the world 24/7. Out of the corner of her eye Emily could see a monitor.  It showed what the webcam was broadcasting; it was a close up of her face.  Nothing else could be seen, not what was going on behind her, just her face.  There was also a counter showing the number of people logged on to that camera.  Emily couldn’t focus on it properly as her eyes stung from the tears, but she could see the numbers where shooting up now it had started streaming.  She couldn’t make out the exact number, but she was sure it was six figures.

Mr Jonson told that boys that there was one more treat for them before they started raping Emily’s ass.  Each boy was allowed to put one staple into her ass cheeks.  There were 17 boys in the class.

Again Emily was aware that she was screaming but in her shock she could her no noise.  Her body trembled and spasmed as one after one they took it in turns to press the stapler against her ass cheeks and fire a staple into place.  A couple of the boys hadn’t pressed hard enough and the staple hadn’t gone fully into her flesh.  Mr Jonson didn’t want the staples to come out during the rape and injure one of the boys, so he had pulled them out and made the boys press a new staple into her. 

Emily could feel a couple of trickles of blood from the old wounds run down her ass.

Before they stripped off, the boys took the opportunity to take one final picture of her ass, now covered in staples.  Emily felt Mr Jonson remove the plug from her ass that she was required by to wear at all times.   He began rubbing a small amount of lube around the entrance to her ass, and push a little inside with one finger.  It wasn’t a lot of course, but then she already had plenty in there. Permanently wearing a plug meant one of the few possessions girls were allowed under the news laws was lube.  To carry with them at all times, as they needed to remove their plugs and re-apply lube several times a day.

Mr Jonson was going to go first, teacher’s privilege.  She felt the tip of his cock rubbing on her ass crack trying to locate the hole.  Soon he was in place and gently but firmly eased the tip inside of her.  After half a dozen slow thrusts, each slightly deeper than the one before, she could feel he was now fully inside her. That’s when things got much worse. 

With each thrust Mr Jonson’s torso smashed into her ass cheeks, and every staple dug into her flesh.  The pain receptors were in her ass lit up like a Christmas tree.  So many pain signals were being sent to Emily’s brain that it couldn’t cope. It was like the fuse in a plug blowing because it was overloaded.   Emily passed out.

Please message me when you spot a typo and I will get it fixed, thanks.

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