Paul Gable
Tortured daughter
CHAPTER ONE
"We observe the strictest rules of discipline here, Cindy. You've been put here for a good reason by your parents. You were caught getting drunk once too often."
Cindy McArthur kept her crying blue eyes lowered to the tiled floor of the reception room. It was a lie. It was all such a terrible mistake. She wasn't an alcohol abuser like her mother kept screaming over and over the night she'd found some peach brandy in her bureau drawer. Her girlfriend, Judy, had had some problems with liquor and she was only holding the bottle from her until she could get rid of it.
"Are there any questions, Cindy?"
Dr. Alicia Endicott was tapping her well-manicured nails against the polished oak desk, tilting her head to one side. Cindy realized she was expected to say something. But what could she do? The teenaged blonde thought she would break into wild tears if she were to open her mouth. Her parents had brought her here to the sanatorium after they had heard such good things from Judy's parents about the place. Yes, her best friend had been incarcerated here for nearly one month now. And her parents had decided she would follow. It was so unfair, so unjust! Even their doctor had felt her parents were going overboard in their decision to send her to Hannah Manor.
Her voice was trembling and low as the room began to swim in front of her eyes. Crossing her legs at the ankles, Cindy dug her fingernails into her palms, fighting for courage, for some confidence in this terrifying nightmare that had suddenly invaded her life. Alcohol. She was no user, no alcoholic. And yet for trying to help a friend, she had been shunted off to this horrid place!
Raising her eyes, she looked once more at Dr. Endicott. The woman was tall, in her mid-thirties, with a head of fine silver hair pulled tightly back across her skull into a tight pinned bun behind. Her eyes were a strange tawny color, reminding Cindy of a cat's. Those eyes, how they seemed to look right through her. Cindy shivered, pressing her nails more firmly into her damp palms. The sound of a buzzer made Cindy nearly jump from her skin.
"Reaction from alcohol withdrawal," Alicia said, raising one eyebrow. "Well, that's to be expected. You won't find any babying here, Cindy. We all believe in developing discipline. That's the key." She raised a threatening finger and pointed it at the girl as if it were a knife. Cindy wished she could have sunk right through the bright blue carpeting under her feet. "We've taken the liberty to search your luggage, even though your parents assured us that they had gone through your belongings before you came here." Alicia patted her bunned hair. "Your things are in your room. An attendant will take you there. Of course, you'll be expected to adhere to our schedule. All our girls do."
Alicia's monologue was interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. Turning around, Cindy found herself face to face with a tall, stockily-built attendant dressed in white pants and coat. There was nothing particularly attractive about him. His small cold blue eyes, round pock-marked face and sensuous thick lips seemed to be in place with the forbidding nature of this place.
"You can take Miss McArthur to her room now. She needs time to get her things in order. We'll see you later, Cindy, to talk about our schedule here," Alicia said, her voice following the trembling girl out into the ball.
"This way," the attendant said, taking her roughly by the shoulder and directing her down the long, tiled corridor.
Cindy flinched under the hard grip of that warm paw digging into her slender shoulders. She had never felt so naked, so exposed and vulnerable before in her life. Watching her parents' car drive down the long curved road over the hills back to Los Angeles, the young teen had felt as if she'd been abandoned to the world.
"Nice ass."
Her flesh puckered up into goose-pimples as Cindy looked into his cold eyes, then turned back around and walked more quickly down the hall. Her sandals clicked against the polished brown tiles while overhead the glare from the blue-white fluorescent lights burned her eyes. It was such a cold, terrible place.
"Here," he muttered.
They made another turn into a narrower corridor, stopping in front of some green elevator doors. The attendant pressed a small red button. Immediately, groaning and whirring sounds filtered through the old doors. Momentarily they parted, revealing a small, foul-smelling elevator compartment. Cindy stepped inside, feeling less and less sure of herself as the seconds ticked by. Another attendant was there, somewhat taller and thinner than the first. His eyes, she thought, looked a bit kinder.
"Hey, Jack, got a new one from the doc," her escort said, closing the door and pushing three.
"Nice… not bad, Max. Been broke in yet?" the friend asked, flashing Max a toothy smile.
"You been poked yet, honey?" Max asked, his eyes narrowing as he pushed the elevator stop button. Immediately, the car jerked to a halt, the whirring sounds stopping. Cindy looked at the two attendants in disbelief, her heart pounding like a triphammer.
"You heard me, angel tits. You get rodded yet?"
"Hey, Max, come on, the bitch don't know what you're talkin' about," Jack said, his lips curling into a false friendly smile. "What my friend here wants to know, baby, is whether or not somebody's gotten to you. You know fucked you."
"Fucked?"
Pronouncing the word made Cindy shiver. She had never talked like that, had never had anyone speak to her in those foul terms. Her parents had been very strict, too strict at times, she felt. Never, never would she have considered having a boy do… that to her. Even the thought of letting him touch her there sent shivers of terror rushing through her.
"Yeah, you know, taking his prick and sticking it down there between your legs," Jack explained.
Max took a step toward her. Flinching again, Cindy backed away, her firm pert ass pressing against the cold metal walls of the elevator car. Above her, the girl could hear the cables swinging against one another. The alarm. If only, she could reach the alarm button. That would stop this madness.
"No, please… no, that never happened to me," she whimpered.
"We got ourselves a little virgin, then," Jack said after a moment's pause.
"Yeah, if you believe what she says. Fuck, kids nowadays are knocked up by the time they're outta high school. She's been hittin' the booze scene, too."
"That's not true!" Cindy blurted out, wiping a tear from under one eye with the back of her hand. "It's all some terrible mistake."
The two attendants threw back their heads and laughed heartily.
"They all say that," Max said, calming down, then rubbing the back of his hand against his fly.
Cindy's eyes flashed down quickly to his crotch and saw, to her horror, that he wasn't wearing shorts. She could see his cock sharply outlined against the white trouser material. Her eyes widened. Cindy had heard, of course, about men, about what they liked to do, and how it was all to come about. But having to come face to face with sex, and like this, made the girl gasp with revulsion. Max and his friend Jack were about to rape her. The idea suddenly flashed through her brain like lightning, making her shiver all over.
"The poor little thing's shaking," Max said, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"She should be all smiles, considering what we're gonna show her. By the time we get through with her, she's gonna feel all better, being here at the Manor."
"Oh, no, no, you're… you're all crazy," Cindy said, her voice whispery and breathless. "I'll tell Dr. Endicott about this if… if something happens to me and… and…"
"She won't listen to an alky. Besides, it's all part of your treatment. Discipline, that's her, thing. And this is part of the training," Max said, wiping his thick lips with the back of one hand again.