The ropes broke before she had cut all the way through them, and the teen collapsed onto the straw-padded floor, knocking his head on the stool as he hit. He groaned, his eyes opening slightly. Sister Francine placed the raised sole of her black shoe on the teen's swollen brown ballsac and twisted her foot. The teen arched up, gasping, his eyes wide open. Sister Francine removed her foot and the teen slumped back, eyes closing as he apparently slipped back into a faint.

Sister Francine's face remained expressionless. "Such a weak sex, and so utterly worthless. I don't see why God ever made them. Drag him back to his cell. Here, I'll help you." She grabbed a handful of the youth's shaggy brown hair while Sister Eve grabbed him by one arm, and they dragged him out into the dim stone passageway that led back to the cell-blocks.

"Hope to God I don't catch lice," Sister Francine muttered.

They returned to Sister Francine's office on the ground floor of St. Michael's Reformatory. Sister Eve was glad to get out of the basement where the cells were… even thought she intended to sneak back down there for some quick fun once the old bat left for the airport. She couldn't understand why every last teen hadn't died of pneumonia, down there without heat, naked and half starved. They were all so skinny, all bone and muscle, not a trace of fat on them. It was a wonder their cocks hadn't shriveled up and fallen off. But if anything, their cocks appeared to become larger as their bodies became leaner. Sister Eve closed her eyes and thought of their cocks as Sister Francine's hot wet tongue twisted inside her cunt.