[InnocentVirgin]

Monica regained a soupy kind of consciousness as she was half dragged from the chamber.

They took her to a bathroom and she stood swaying as Mrs. Parks and Dean cleaned her. She was brought back to reality when they bent her over and applied a harsh astringent cauterizing agent on her tortured asshole. Monica screamed and the sound echoed richly in the confines of the room and stopped only when Mrs. Parks dug her fingers into her throat, “Shut UP!”

Whimpering and crying Monica took the ministrations and suffered their attention until they pulled the gown back over her head, making her stand alone. Her thick hair was brushed and they took great care to make her presentable.

She was in hell and didn’t have the coping skills necessary to compartmentalize what was happening to her. Steady tears leaked from her eyes as she was drawn from the bath and walked down the hallway and up another set of stairs, each step agonizing.

The room they opened left her speechless.

It was a child’s room.

Specifically, a boy’s room. A huge room.

Framed posters of Japanese anime characters and boats and clowns adorned the walls. Built-in shelves held action figures and games, toys and comics. She recognized several state of the art gaming systems with some of the more simple games. Variations of games she herself had had as a child.

Dumbfounded, she offered no resistence as she was led inside and forced to sit on a board antique wooden rocker, but the hurt in her rectum caused her to cry out and raise up quickly only to be pushed down and held. When Mrs. Parks was certain she wasn’t going to be bolting back up they both moved around to either side of the chair to pin her down if she tried to get back up.

Monica’s ass started to seep blood and she took the pain, far too scared to move.

“My son is ...special,” Mrs. Parks voice held little emotion as she went on, “he is challenged. He's 24... with a mind of a 6 or 8 year old. ...I didn’t behave during my pregnancy and I think that was why...“ her voice lost some strength and sounded genuinely human for the first time.

“Mr. Parks is a firm disciplinarian,“ she continued, “consequently Malcolm was born early and not ...right. On the night of his birth...” her voice trailed off and she raised her hand to her scarred breast without realizing her action.

Further reminiscing became moot as the door was flung open and a new duo burst into the room.

A giant of a young man, close to being 7 feet tall stopped before her and looked at her with unabashed delight. He wore a “Got Milk” tee and jeans and carried a soggy cone of cotton candy in a huge sticky fist. His ballcap was worn backwards and he moved with a lack of grace. His face was good looking in a vague way and he absolutely horrified Monica.

“Dismanewbridey?” Monica didn’t understand for a moment and when she did she tried to rise and was abruptly pushed back in her seat, rocking back and crying out as her ass connected with the hard wood of the chair.

Sheprettee wedoidos?

That she couldn’t translate and only understood when Mrs. Parks answered, “Yes Malcolm, you’ll be doing I Do’s”

Oh my god, oh my god... Monica started to rock back and forth on the chair regardless of the pain in her backside and the steady seep of blood onto her lovely white gown.