Chapter Five - Willkommen

There wasn't much relief for the girl on reaching the club. Sammy had hoped to slip in and nip to the loos for a bit of adjustment to her dress. That didn't happen. Her entrance was greeted with a cheer, and she was instantly surrounded by an excited gaggle.

"Hi Sam."

It was Alicia, usually such a welcome sight, but now looking quite eager and breathless, almost hungry. Checking out Sammy’s simple dress, her friend smiled as she said, "Looking forward to seeing you stripped of those drab clothes."

Before Sammy could get in a reply to her friend’s hopeful comment, Alicia was jostled out of the way by the large frame of her Uncle Roy, swooping in with one of his crushing hugs.

"There's my little Sammy. I can't wait to get a good view of you in the buff."

"Roy! Get off the poor girl!" Auntie Joy, always proper, and always struggling to control her exuberant husband. "Sorry Alicia, he always gets a bit over-excited at a snuff show. Not that I can blame him, that top looks ready to go at any moment."

She was saved the awkwardness of having to answer this most unusual comment by two boys from her class, both dragging her into an, unnecessarily close, hug. Uncomfortable in its own way, but better than discussing her chest with Auntie Joy.

It didn't seem to stop. Everyone apparently wanted a chance to be close to her, most insisting on a hug. Obscure relatives she barely knew, so many half-recognised friends of her parents, schoolmates (and school-not-so-mates), all wanted a chance to paw her and pass comment on her body. While an extrovert would have welcomed this tidal wave of attention, Sammy just found it daunting.

****

Two hours later, and Sammy was looking quite dishevelled. She'd managed to get a drink, even if it was only water, but she'd had no chance to adjust her dress and hair. Her blouse was getting quite grey from so many sweaty hands, and her hair was coming loose in great strands from her ponytail. To add to her discomfort, she was getting rather anxious to find the loo, if only there was an opening to politely get away.

It was with relief that she spotted Miss Corby coming in. Sammy took the chance to wriggle away from her admirers and say hello. At least she could get a break from the constant gawking by talking to her teacher. Miss Corby had always been the most considerate person she knew.

"My favourite little tramp, wonderful!"

Before she could respond to this surprising greeting, Sammy found her skirt lifted up and her teacher's hand making its own way between her legs this time, probing roughly into her pussy.

"Miss Corby!" she said, aghast, trying to push down her skirt - and the hand out - before everyone noticed. She'd been so pleased to have kept everything hidden up to now.

"Come on, Sammy." Miss Corby responded, not lowering her voice at all as she resisted the girl's efforts. "Everyone should have a chance with that juicy cunt of yours."

"Miss!" Sammy whispered in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"Just a little suggestion of your mother's." her teacher replied cheerfully. "We had a lovely long chat the other day. She was a bit worried, but I managed to reassure her I’d be delighted to go along with her plans. Little me, getting to help degrade and snuff my favourite pupil, turn her from a sweet girl into the screaming slag she really wants to be."

Sammy turned bright red, part shock, part embarrassment, at this brutal announcement of the evening's program, to the obvious amusement of those around her who were listening. She might have agreed to this present for her father, but that certainly didn’t stop finding the demeaning details shameful.

"What's going on here?" her mother's voice came from behind her.

Miss Corby looked up, smiling. "I was just groping this slapper, but it's almost like she's trying to resist."

"Well, that won't do." her mother's reply sounded rehearsed, what had the two women been planning? Debbie went on, in her strictest ‘Do what I say’ tone, "Sammy, this attitude isn’t acceptable. Didn't I bring you up to behave better than this? I think as punishment you’d better shout out 'I'm a sad excuse for a whore. Come and get a feel of my stupid virgin cunt.'."

"Mum!" Sammy protested, horrified.

"Do it now."

Her mother spoke in a fierce, firm voice she'd never heard before. This must be the one she'd used in her days at the Charnel House, and that must mean her performance had started.

This was it, Sammy swallowed hard, and tried to suppress the quaver in her voice.

"I'm a sad excuse for a whore. Come and get a feel of my stupid virgin cunt."

Now she stood, tears of embarrassment running down, as everyone seemed to take her up on her offer. It wasn't just the myriad of hands, probing her intimately and fondling her from feet to face, lingering around her tits and arse, it was also the graphically obscene comments that were whispered into her ear.

Debbie watched her daughter's tears start to flow, rather pleased with the success of her little warm-up scene. Satisfied, she walked across to the greet the latest arrivals, some of her best friends.

"Hi Tracy. I'm so glad you could make it to our little show."

"Don't pull that 'little show' crap on me, Deb." Tracy was smiling broadly, she'd known Debbie since school. "I was a regular at the Charnel House, remember? Watching your shows used to get me so hot. Did you know I was going to volunteer before you got knocked up again and went and retired?"

Debbie had always avoided discussing her show days, worried she'd be tempted back. This news from Tracy came as a revelation.

"Tracy! I wish I'd known. Remembering that svelte little figure you used to have I might just have been tempted back for one last go. You're still not looking bad, do you want to volunteer as a stand in if things go wrong with Sammy?"

"If I still looked like I did then." Tracy said regretfully, poking at her flabby stomach. "I think I'm a bit past it now."

“We’ve all got a bit like that." Debbie sympathised. "Never mind, with all your kids you'll probably get a chance like I have with Sammy."

"I wanted to ask you about Sammy." it was Donna, Alicia's mother, and another pal from the Charnel House days. "She's always struck me as pretty shy. Does she know what she's letting herself in for with you? I don't think anybody could forget seeing you break a girl."

"I think you'll be impressed." was Sammy’s mother’s proud response. "She might not have known when she volunteered, but she hasn't backed out, even after learning quite a bit about my old job."

"I'm guessing you haven't told her everything." Tracy gave a knowing smile.

"Not too much, no. Just enough to make sure she wasn't going to change her mind."

The two women grinned at each other.

"Hold on to that thought." Donna had been watching Sammy over her mother's shoulder. "It looks like your daughter's pissing herself."

She was. Sammy had been pretty anxious for a pee anyway, and now, unable to escape as so many hands poked, prodded and groped her, her bladder had finally given way. Standing there, head down as a warm stream of shame gushed between her legs, she reddened beautifully to the laughter.

****

"Mum, can I go and change? I couldn't hold it in, and now my skirt and shoes are soaking."

Sammy had managed to get over to where her mother was still giggling in a group with her old friends.

Debbie turned sharply on her daughter. "Of course not. You're not to leave the room now, your father will be here at any minute. If you choose to spray yourself with stinking piss, you'll have to put up with it."

As Sammy moved tearfully off, Donna lent over to try for a confidential word with Debbie - not really possible with her strident voice. "Don't try and look innocent Deb. How many showgirls did I see walking round with damp patches back at the club. First you laced their drinks, then you used it as an excuse to super-glue their piss-holes shut."

Debbie didn't try to deny it, just said, "I thought about it, but decided against the super-glue. It was original back then, but everybody’s doing it now."

Sammy had only got a few steps and heard every word of this exchange. After being expected to lick clean every hand that had become damp from her piss, she almost turned round and asked to be super-glued shut. Could the pain of a swollen bladder be worse than wetting herself? If she'd been dosed with diuretics, how long this time before she had to piss again? Then she realised what would happen if her mother said yes - she couldn't face begging to show her pussy in public.

Luckily a distraction came. Frantic signs from Eve at the door indicated her father was just coming in. With everyone's attention diverted, Sammy slipped away to lean, concealed from her father’s view, against a wall.

****

Things were going well. Sammy's father had been delighted to discover a quiet drink at the club with a couple of mates was actually a massive surprise party in his honour. Drink in hand, he moved round the room greeting all the guests. If he looked a little bemused as well, that wasn't so surprising. Despite the guest of honour having arrived, there was still an expectant air in the room.

"Hello love." he said, finally getting close to his wife. "This is great. Did you organise all this for me?"

"Not just me. The girls helped a lot, especially Sammy."

"Where is Sammy? I've seen loads of her friends, but not a sign of her."

"She's around somewhere. She's probably just keeping out of your way after not having given you a present this morning."

Sammy's father looked quite distressed, "Oh I do hope not, but that would be just like her. I'm really not bothered if she didn't get me a present. I'd better go and find her."

That was unfortunate, when Debbie had last seen her daughter she'd been in no condition to hide what she was planning to do. She quickly signalled, and a diversion in the form of a flaming cake, carried in to riotous singing from the assembled throng, took his mind off the whereabouts of his eldest daughter.

Sammy, for the moment forgotten, watched the cake brought in with some trepidation. She knew this was her cue, and her brain whirled with conflicting emotions. About to give her father the best present he was ever likely to get, she was ecstatic. About to expose the part of herself to be despoiled before all these people, she was terrified. As the singing died away she steeled herself, and wound through the crowd to where her parents were standing.

"There you are Sammy. I was wondering where you'd got to."

As she came closer, the extent of her dishevelled state apparent, her father asked in wonder, "What on earth's happened to you? I'm not that bothered about no present. You didn't have to actually beat yourself up."

It was a perfect cue, Sammy stood before her father and announced, in as firm a voice as she could manage, "I have got a present for your dad. Watch."

This story is a fantasy, set in another place, with only the slightest passing nod to our reality as it’s glimpsed on a distant horizon. If this isn’t immediately apparent to you, I strongly suggest you seek urgent psychiatric care.