"Seist Du ruhiges, Mädchen, oder ich Du verletzen werde!" (1)
The small, terrified schoolgirl tries to shrink back against the wall, scattering the stuffed toys and grabbing a pillow, which she then clasps ridiculously in front of her, for protection. I snatch it from her and cast it aside.
Her expression was priceless just now, when I burst out of the wardrobe.
I'd been watching her through the gap in the doors for a full ten minutes, unpacking her school satchel, checking her hair in the dressing table mirror, humming a favourite tune. Oblivious. Back home to an empty apartment as usual. Routine.
She stares in disbelief at the stocky figure in the black overalls who is shouting at her to be still or else he will hurt her. She is too stunned to make a sound and presses hard into the wall, as if hoping she could push her way through it, away from the intruder. Her legs are curled up to her chest: she instinctively tries to make herself as small as possible. That makes her skirt ride up her slim, tanned legs. I see a flash of underwear. And I get even hornier.
"Do exactly as I tell you, Monika, or I will slash your face to ribbons," I tell her, holding up a modelling knife and pointing the blade towards her to emphasise my threat."
She stares back, mouth gaping in shock.
"Oh yes, Monika, I know your name. I know all about you. I know you are thirteen years old and that you have no brothers and sisters. I know you live here with your mother, who is called Silke. I know your school, your favourite music, what you like to eat and size of your bra."
She frowns. How do I know this? Who am I? What do I want?
I smile at her puzzlement. I sweep the knife around the dowdy room.
"This is a nice bedroom, Monika. I've been here before. Several times, when you were at school. I've searched through your drawers and smelt your clothes. I even keep a pair of your panties under my pillow at home. Pale blue with pink flowers? Didn't you miss them? I wrap them round my cock before I go to sleep. And I love to read your diary: you do say some funny things. I've lain in your bed and masturbated, surrounded by your toys and listening to your records, imagining this moment, when we would finally be together, alone."
She listens, quivering, barely able to comprehend the dreadful, dirty things I am telling her.
"I've been watching you for so long, Monika. I've wanted you. And now I'm here. And I'm going to have you."
I advance a step or two. She makes a sort of whining sound and turns away.
"You are right to be afraid, Monika," I say, lowering my voice to sound more intimidating. "For I might do something really terrible if you aren't a very, very good little girl for me."
Another step. I am next to the bed. I could reach out and touch her.
"Are you going to be a very, very good little girl, Monika?"
Her mouth begins to form a reply, but she can't speak.
"Well? Are you?"
Oh she is beautiful, even with her face pale and screwed up in fright. Such a lovely age, thirteen. Neither a woman nor a child. Full lips, with teeth just a bit too large. Big, round brown eyes. A delicate nose set between high cheekbones. Framed by shoulder-length brown hair, clean and soft, and arranged in two long plaits with pink elastics. So much nicer than the severe ponytail favoured by most of the others in her class. Sexier.
The girl blubbers, "Please. Don't do this. Please go away."
I slap her firmly on the side of her head.
"Answer me, Fotze (2)! Will you be a good little girl and do exactly what I tell you?" I yell and the tears well up in her eyes at last.
Her lip trembles. With a look of total dejection, she nods.
Another slap. She squeals in fear.
"Yes," she stammers.
"That's better," I reply, lowering my voice. "We have plenty of time, so there's no need for any unnecessary unpleasantness. Be polite. Be obedient. And you won't be harmed."
She doesn't seem reassured.
"Listen to me. Even if she leaves work at the normal time, your Mother won't be home for an hour and a half. But just in case she is punctual, she will find that tonight, her old blue Golf has a horrible flat tyre, which is bound to make her even later. So we're alone for a nice long time, aren't we."
Monika's lovely face shows her dismay.
"Oh and I've disconnected the phone, so we won't be interrupted."
Sitting on the end of the bed, I show her the knife again.
"See this? It is incredibly sharp. Just a small flick, and it would slice through someone's skin a centimetre deep. A lot of cuts like that on a person's face and they would be dreadfully scarred for life. Not a pleasant thought, eh, Monika?"
She has begun to sob. Her shoulders judder with staccato gasps.
"Come a bit closer," I suggest, pleasantly.
One glance at the vicious blade persuades her to shuffle just a bit, away from the wall. I beckon her to edge nearer. At last I can take her hand.
Her whole body is shaking. I squeeze her bony fingers in my palm. The knife slips into my pocket. For the time being.
"We can do one of two things, now, Monika." My voice is soft now, reasonable. "Either you can undress yourself, nice and slowly, or else I shall cut off your clothes with my lovely sharp knife. You decide."
My hand rests along the line of her jaw and I turn her face directly to me. She is still sniffling. The tears on her cheek wet my thumb. Her dark eyes plead with me. I reach into my pocket and she reacts instantly, reaching up and fumbling with the top button of her school blouse. I offer a smile.
"Well done. You're being sensible. That's it, slowly. Be sexy."
As she opens her blouse I get my first glimpse of her shapely but tiny tits, barely filling the cups of her plain white bra. She slips off the blouse and I gesture for her to hand it to me. I press it to my face, breathing in her scent, then discard it on the floor.
"Skirt next, I think."
She fiddles with the fastening.
"Stand up first. Go nearer the window so I can see better."
The grey skirt drops to her ankles. She looks at me for approval. Her crying is silent now. The tears run freely and she keeps pausing to wipe them from her cheek and nose and chin. I pass her a tissue from her dressing table.
"Slippers and socks."
She kicks off the slippers and tugs off the white cotton ankle socks, loses balance and has to grab the windowsill for support.
"Come back over here. Turn around. Now kneel."
I look down at her back, so slim and smooth, with an impossibly tiny waist. Almost unblemished. I lift her plaits and drop them to the front of her shoulders, laying my hands ever so lightly on her shoulders. Her neck is soft and elegant. I study the way her hair is pulled to each side and gathered in the plaits, how the parting is a bit crooked at the back. I lean forward and kiss the top of her head. Her hair smells clean. She would have had a shower after sport this afternoon; athletics according to the timetable tacked to the wall beside the desk. My hands move down her arms and back. She is hot, her skin just a tad clammy. My lips descend behind her ear and caress the side of her neck. She is literally scared stiff. I can feel the tremors as she breathes. I nibble the lobe of her ear, playfully. Her breathing quickens nervously.
"You are very beautiful, Monika," I whisper into that same ear. I suck the lobe again. "And you taste delicious."
Her shoulders sag momentarily with relief when I sit back up and am not so close, but my hands remain in place and move around between her shoulder blades, to unhook her bra. I push the straps from her shoulders.
"Turn around and take it off for me."
She does so, leaving her arms crossed over her chest.
I shake my head in amusement.
"Put your hands behind your head. I want to get a proper look at those Riesentitten (3)," I joke sarcastically.
Her eyes close when I take her breast in my hand: she doesn't want to witness her own humiliation. My thumb toys with the stubby nipple, rolling it around and stroking it.
"Stand up and put your nipple in my mouth," I order.
Awkwardly she bends forward. Now she has to watch.
"Keep your hands behind your head!"
I make no effort to help her. Shakily she steers her chest towards my face. I open my mouth slightly, projecting my tongue to receive the proffered nub of firm pink nipple. I lick the end wetly, suckle and try to stimulate it. Then suddenly I clench my teeth around it, not hard, but sufficient for her to flinch and squeal. I hold on as her body tries to pull away.
She makes another of her pitiable whining noises, more from surprise than discomfort.
I hold her like that for half a minute, then release her. She is panting when she stands back upright. I enjoyed the rise and fall of her chest, the faintest quiver in those cute, upturned little breasts. Looking her up and down, I am especially taken with the divine line of indentation running down from below her breasts, across her belly button to the base of her tummy. Only the slimmest girls have this and it is what sets them apart in my eyes. Her stomach is so flat and firm. There is a wonderful narrowness to her entire body, no puppy fat, no womanly flaring at the hips, just the subtle, lithe curves of a young girl. My erection is unbearable.
"Be very still," I warn her. "Stand absolutely still, or otherwise there could be a nasty accident."
She looks down with increasing concern. I have my knife in my hand again, and have begun to slice extremely down the seam at the side of her skimpy briefs.
"I just couldn't resist," I explained with a mock-psychopathic giggle.
With my plimsoll, I tap the inside of her ankles to make her move her feet further apart. My head is level with her tummy. The second seam gives way to the knife and with a flourish, I rip away the remains of her panties, revealing her gorgeous young pussy for the first time.
For a brief while, I merely savour this moment. Her cunt is close to perfect. Like the rest of her body, at that magical stage between girl and woman. A neat and tidy pubic mound, prominent between her muscular legs, still fairly hairless save for a patch of fine brown down just beginning to fan out over her lower belly and some untidy curls beginning to creep down each side between her legs. The labia are puffy, subtly toned with the hormonal pink flush of puberty, yet have none of the untidiness of the adult pussy: only a small, soft fold of the palest pink emerges from the top of that ripe cleft, hinting at the hidden pleasures of the clitoris beneath. Her inner lips remain tucked away from view. For now.
I am unable to resist any longer. I have to stroke the patch of soft fine hair, to run my fingertip down between the outer lips, and curl it down between her legs, where the labia part under the gentle pressure and I am already pushing at the mouth of her vagina.
Not so fast.
I spin her round, admiring her hard young bottom, taut and muscular still.
"Touch your toes."
Reluctantly she bends and I prise her cheeks apart to take a closer look at her wrinkled little anus, tightly shut. I wet my index finger, and she moans in protest when I begin to press at the puckered centre, adding some more spit, pushing more insistently until it yields and admits the end of my finger. She whines louder and I tell her to shut up. It is nice that she finds this unpleasant. Helps to establish our relationship. And so I spend longer doing this than I expected, very, very slowly working my finger deeper inside her, withdrawing it and then invading her rectum once more. She staggers a few times. I slap her buttock hard and she stiffens to keep her balance now that I am inserting my entire forefinger each time. She smells hot and raw.
I tell her to hold on to the edge of the desk. That keeps her more stable.
I must be patient.
It has happened so quickly, I need to gather my thoughts. I continue to finger her arse. She flexes her body and grunts in response - I am pleased she finds this so demeaning.
"I've been so looking forward to this, Monika. I've been watching you for ages. On your way to school, out shopping with Mutti in Karstadt (4). Once I sat in the pew behind you at church, trying to imagine you naked whilst the Pastor droned on about sin."
She has no choice but to listen. As I ease my finger in and out of the glossy tightness of her rectum, with my other hand I stroke her warm, soft skin. Her buttocks, her inner thighs. Her juicy pink labia are constantly displayed beneath my busy hand. The promise of pleasures yet to come.
I continue to bait her.
"Sometimes I've followed you for a while, enjoying the way you swing this tight little Arsch..."
I give her a playful tap on her bottom. It feels good. Later I think she needs to experience a proper spanking.
"I like Tuesdays, when your class has the early morning swimming lesson in the Stadt Hallenbad (5). I can watch you all in your tight, wet costumes, and compare your legs and tits. You're the best, Monika."
Before she came home, I made some small preparations. I finish playing with her bottom for now and order her to sit cross-legged in the centre of her bed, facing the foot. She complies quickly, keen not to antagonise me further and no doubt relieved not to have my finger up her any longer. I move to the other end of the bed, where I have affixed to the frame under the mattress a long choke chain, originally intended for a Rottweiler or St Bernard, but ideally suited also for a small girl in need of some control. I remove the chain from beneath the pillow, open the loop and slip it over her head, careful not to trap her plaits. In order to prevent her being able to pull it off, I click into one of the links a tiny padlock of the sort used on suitcases. This allows the chain to tighten around her throat if she moves too far, but prevents it being opened so wide that it would fit over her head.
She stares at her feet in despair. Her tears have stopped, although her eyes are wet and red.
"There. That's better. You look great in a collar. Makes you seem so delicate and vulnerable."
I sit and feel her shoulders and arms and breasts.
"I think it is your turn to do some work, Monika," I tell her cheerfully, "I've helped you take off your clothes: why don't you do the same for me?"
When I had first entered the house earlier in the day, I had changed my clothes. All I had on now was a one-piece black boilersuit, fastened with poppers, and some cheap canvas shoes. I kick off the latter and stand up.
"Kneel here on the bed. Good. Now, unfasten my overalls. Just pull. That's it. One at a time."
I make her begin at the neck and work down. She frowns as she opens each popper. Her fingers are shaky and nervous. She avoids my gaze by concentrating hard on each fastening. She reaches my waist and as the suit opens, realises I am naked beneath. She glimpses the head of my erection. Now she is really flustered. She can't undo any more without touching it, at least through the fabric.
"Go on, Monika, there are another three or four poppers."
Goodness that feels good. Her hand brushes my cock. Again. I twitch it to tease her. Her expression is a twisted blend of disgust, distaste, anxiety and, I'm sure of it, the tiniest bit of curiosity.
"Gently. Concentrate on what you are doing. There! All done. That feels better. As you can see, I have the hots for you, Monika. It's you making my cock so hard. You're a sexy little girl."
Her face is red with embarrassment, as if the situation could be any more humiliating for her. I see her blush and have to taunt her.
"Really, Monika. What would your mother say? Or your teachers? Or your classmates? Here you are, alone and naked in your bedroom, undressing a strange man? Why I think you're after something, you little minx. I think you're after a bit of the other." Feigning shock, I exclaim, "I get the distinct impression that you would like to have sex with me!"
"Whatever next? Is this the same pretty little girl who wears that lovely blue dress to Church? What would the Pastor say if he knew young Monika Renke was trying to persuade a complete stranger to fuck her in her own bedroom?"
The small girl tugs the final popper. It is deep down in my crotch and her hands are over my testicles. My full erection is proudly displayed and my cock quivers when the last fastening opens with a snap. She pulls away immediately.
"Now remove the suit, Monika."
She is puzzled for a moment and then realises she must pull the thing off my shoulders and arms first. She has to move closer, to the edge of the bed. She cannot bear to look at me, turning her head away, but I step against the bed as she removes the sleeves from my arms and her head touches my chest and stomach. She stretches as far as possible, to push the suit over my hips, without having to approach the menacing display of my hard penis. The rolled boilersuit reaches my knees and she has to kneel low on the bed and lean down to push it to my ankles. I step out of it, standing naked next to the bed. She is very flustered, not wanting to look at my face or my body.
I enjoy her discomfort.
"This is your doing, Monika," I said, indicating my cock. She could not help herself taking a look. "You are a proper tease, kneeling there with no clothes on, practically begging me to fuck you. Well, shall I fuck you, Monika?"
"Please..." she began, plaintively, eyes beseeching me to have pity on her.
I smile nicely, brushing her arm affectionately.
"Very well, perhaps not just yet."
I go to my bag. She watches me, a shade relaxed perhaps, but her face tightens to a frown when she sees what I am removing from it.
"Kneel fully upright, back straight, and put your hands on the back of your calves. Open your knees wider and lift your chin up - you don't want to strain your back."
I move to the other side of her bed, so that I face her back. The cuffs I'm putting on her are brushed metal, with velour padding inside, and have three rings attached to the outer surface. They fasten with a short leather strap and buckle. I place one on each ankle and wrist, stepping back to admire the sight of this lovely, slim little girl, knelt on her bed, already attached to the frame by the choke chain around her neck, and now prettily accessorised with steel and leather. The starkness of her metallic bonds contrasts so well with her slightness, her vulnerable nudity. With those plaits, she looks so young, so small.
And totally at my mercy.
I use a single length of chromed chain, quite short, to fasten the four cuffs together. I pass it through one of the loops on each one, tighten it until her wrists are pulled tight to her ankles, then use another tiny padlock to complete the circle. The effect is splendid. Her arms are pulled straight down behind her, lifting her chest up and outward, and she has to keep her face pointed towards the ceiling. Girls are nicely pliable at that age.
I circle the bed, loving the spectacle. I tidy her plaits, laying them down her back. She is still facing the side of the bed. I slide her knees wider apart. She grimaces as she has to readjust her position, but now I have a clear view of her sweet pussy and close my hand over her entire pubic mound.
My face is against hers. I kiss her lips.
She whines in protest, keeping her teeth clenched. I close my hand tight over her cunny and squeeze until some of the tension in her shoulders is released and her tightly-drawn lips relax and admit my inquisitive tongue. Now I release my grip - she's got the message. I have to steady the back of her head as I subject her to several long, probing kisses, simultaneously stroking the smoothness of her pubis, slipping my middle finger between her labia, massaging her gently.
"Lovely. But there you go again, Monika, kissing me like that can only mean one thing. You must really want me to give you a good fucking. You are a tart!"
She frowns, cross at my teasing.
"But let's not be too hasty, eh? There's no hurry. And there's plenty more we can do in the mean time."
A large drop of pre-cum has formed on the end of my cock. I gather it delicately on the pad of my little finger and offer it to her lips.
"Lick," I command.
With a look of utter disgust, she dabs the finger with her tongue.
"Looks to me as if you like the taste of cock," I taunt, "why don't you give me a nice lick?"
She grunts when I push her head down towards my groin: the cuffs prevent her body movement and the effort of bending stretches her arms and legs uncomfortably. I have to hold her tightly to prevent her falling sideways. Firmly, I guide her head over my twitching penis.
"Lick the tip."
She resists. I withdraw the knife from the pocket of my overalls on the bedside rug and hold it loosely in my palm, just inside her field of vision.
She snivels but extends her tongue and gives the end of my cock a desultory flick. I close my fingers around the knife. The tongue returns, stroking the polished head of my knob, her saliva merging with the glistening coating of pre-ejaculate that has been seeping copiously since well before she came home.
"Now put your lips very gently around the end and give a little suck."
"Take more inside your mouth. Go on, five centimetres. That's good. Keep your lips closed around it and slide your mouth up and down. Yes, that's good. Keep your lips drawn over your teeth: if you hurt me, I'll scalp you."
Tentatively, stiff with nerves and the strain of her bound limbs, she lowers her face over my cock, and moves up and down.
"You're doing well, Monika. A natural cocksucker. Make it wetter, with your saliva. Ahh, that's fine. Just keep doing that until I tell you to stop."
"Keep those lips taut."
"Go down further, get more inside your mouth. Yes, like that. Keep going."
For a first timer, she isn't too bad. It helps that I am so engorged and horny that almost any stimulus would feel pretty good. In fact, she's so capable, I suddenly want to come. That's not what I had planned, but what the heck? Christ, I can't help it!
I give her no warning. She senses something, but I place my hands about her head so that she cannot pull back and instantly a searing heat rushes up the length of my cock and I explode a generous load against the roof of her mouth. After so much anticipation, it is a blessed relief. I keep her clamped over my cock as I squirt again and again. Before I finally relent and let her up, I warn her that if she lets any of my spunk dribble out, I shall punish her severely. She must swallow every last drop.
Of course, she can't manage that.
She does try, forcing a huge mouthful of sperm and spit down her throat. But she retches and coughs, and a thick drool escapes the corner of her lip and begins to run down her chin. Her mouth falls open when she gasps for air, cloying strands of warm cum clinging between her lips and teeth and tongue.
"Oh dear, Monika," I comment sarcastically, "you are a messy eater. I told you not to let that happen. Now lick it all back and swallow it, like a good little girl."
She struggles to do so, face creased in revulsion.
I go to her dressing table and pull a handful of tissues from the box, and wipe myself down. I wipe her mouth and chin for her. A small drop of cum has landed between her little breasts. I scoop it up on my finger. She grudgingly leans forward and picks it off with her lips.
"That was naughty, Monika. I specifically told you not to waste any. But you did quite well for a first time and so I will punish you lightly this time."
She is resting back on her ankles, breathing heavily, mouth twisted from the pain of her aching muscles and the lingering taste of semen in her throat. Those big brown eyes are moist again.
My balls ache terribly. That was fucking brilliant, truth be told.
A final dribble emerges as my cock starts to lose its rigidity. She is sobbing silently, feeling very sorry for herself. I stand directly before her, holding my knob out. Once more, she leans and sucks the tip gently. She is learning fast.
I need a breather, so I sit on the end of the bed, close to her. I pull her to my chest, pressing her head against the side of my neck and my arm slides around her.
"Thank you, Monika," I murmur softly. "I enjoyed that very much."
She relaxes just a shade, letting me hug her. I stroke her shoulder and upper arm affectionately and kiss the top of her head.
But as soon as I sense her lose some of her stiffness, I burst her bubble.
"But I'm afraid I can't let your disobedience go unpunished. You have to learn that a little girl like you has to do what she is told. You do understand that don't you?"
She summons up some courage and replies, "Why are you doing this? I never did anything to you? Please don't hurt me. Just go and I promise I won't tell anyone..."
I turn, grasp her arms and look her coldly in the eye. My gentle, coaxing voice develops an icy edge.
"Monika! How dare you talk to me like that? I think you need to learn your place. Listen! You will not speak unless to answer my questions. And you shall do precisely what I want. I have chosen you for some fun and I shall do whatever I want with you for as long as I deem fit. Now keep your mouth shut. You really don't want to make me any more mad."
I reach down and fumble around in my bag.
"You need to learn a little lesson, my girl. Now let's see, what have we here? Something to help you focus whilst I get my strength up for some more fun and games?"
Chastened, she sits back on her heels. Her lower lips quivers. Her eyes widen as she sees what I have removed from my bag. She daren't say anything any more - the tone of my voice was enough to frighten her into silence, but she stares at the objects I am setting out on the duvet and shakes her head unhappily.
I gather the pillows and move them to the centre of the mattress, stuffing a couple of handfuls of cuddly toys underneath, to raise the height. I hold her by the elbows and steer her around until she faces the foot of the bed, with the soles of her feet against the heap of pillow. Then I move back to perch briefly on the other end of the bed, so that I can take hold of her shoulders and pull her body backwards, over the pillows.
She grunts. With her ankles and wrists still firmly bound together, she has to keep her body stiff, as I tip her until her back is resting on the top pillow. Her arms are pinned under the small of her back and her knees are pointing upwards and outwards. Even though I shove more stuffed toys under her body, it is a most inelegant and uncomfortable position for her and she winces as I adjust her over the pillows. Her head falls back to the bed, chin uppermost. I take up the slack in the choke chain and hold it in my hand on the duvet cover, so that she cannot lift her head. I am holding a small spring shackle in my other hand and use it to clip up the slack in the chain so that it is now pulled taut against the frame of the bed She is now unable to lift her head up at all, even if she wanted.
Before she got home, I had also placed an elastic bungee (one of those things you use to hold luggage on a roof rack) cross-ways under the bed. I now retrieve one end, looped it around the crook of her knee and hook it back on itself. Then I move to the other side of the bed and repeat the exercise, so that her legs are being spread wide, the strong elastic forcing her knees outward and downward.
She whimpers, all her leg muscles are fully strained already - this merely adds to the pain.
And of course her cunt is just how I want it. With her thighs splayed, her juicy labia gape, her inner lips part and the small ridge of flesh over her clitoris is released. The mysterious dark hole of her vagina beckons.
Although the room is well-lit in the afternoon sun, I move the angle-poise lamp on the desk, directing it towards her crotch, to ensure I miss none of its splendour. Around her wrinkled little anus, the residual moisture from her earlier finger-fucking twinkles in the additional light.
This is the third time I've been in her bedroom. The day before yesterday, I held a sort of rehearsal and so I don't need to improvise that much. After my unplanned orgasm, I'm back on plan.
I leave her for a few minutes, to clean up in the bathroom, and let her ponder on what might be next for her.
When I return, I catch her wriggling as hard as she can, although there is nothing she can do. Her neck is firmly chained down and no matter how much she rocks from side to side, the bungee holds her legs fully akimbo. Her own body provides the principal restraint, pinning her legs and hands beneath her.
I tut and wag my finger at her. Her dark, frightened eyes flash with frustration.
My prick is reviving, already thickening and lengthening between my thighs. She could not fail to notice it and must be wondering if I was about to rape her.
I am, but not quite yet.
"Monika. Are you sorry for disobeying me, and letting some of my lovely semen dribble down your chin?"
"Yes," she replies quickly. The creeping pain of being held in this position gives her voice a croaky breathlessness.
"I think you meant to say, 'Yes, Sir' didn't you?"
She thinks quickly, understanding my emphasis. "Yes, Sir."
"What are you sorry about, Monika?"
"I'm sorry I let your stuff out of my mouth," she blurts. "Sir," she adds hastily.
I don't pursue this any further: I want to build the pressure a bit more.
Crouching on the mattress between her legs, I lean right over her upthrust body, and look coldly into her face. My cock brushes against her cunt. She flinches. I twitch.
"I was really hoping that you would be a good little girl for me, Monika," I tell her quietly. "But I am disappointed in you. I think perhaps you need some extra persuasion."
"Ple...," she begins but instantly my reproachful expression tells her that she had made a faux pas.
With mock reluctance, I say, "You see, that's exactly what I mean. Talking back, not following instructions."
I sit back on my haunches, reach behind me for the first clamp and ostentatiously unscrew the tiny wing nut as I speak.
"I'll give you this one chance to put things right. Soon I shall ask you three things. Provided I believe your answers, you'll be fine. But you need to convince me..."
She freezes as I take a nipple between my fingers and tweak and roll it, and stretch it up from her stretched little tit. Being arched backwards, what slight form her immature breasts have is completely lost, as her chest is pulled flat. I have to yank her nipple hard to make it long enough for the clamp to slip around. Good job I've practised using the clamps, as I need considerable dexterity to fasten down the nut and at the same time grip the little nub of flesh before it retreats back to her body.
She squeals, as much in fear as pain, as I've hardly begun to tighten it properly.
"...that's good. Now let's put on the other one..."
She tries to resist but suddenly stops, as if she realises the futility. I attach the second clamp more easily. My prick is hard again, flapping against the inside of her legs when I bend over her.
"... excellent. Mmm, they look good on you."
I pretend to be puzzled. She squints to peer over her own body to look at me, unsure why I have paused.
"Not quite right. I know! Not tight enough."
Arched over her, I turn each nut a revolution or two. The tiny bars of the clamps dig down into the distended red nubs of tender flesh. I notice the skin on her chest has gathered a sheen of perspiration. I turn the nuts some more. The tips of her nipples are reddening, whilst her little tits have turned a pale, clammy grey. She keeps making high-pitched snuffling noises through her nose.
"No. That's not enough, is it? A bit tighter I think."
The screws turn. She breathes harder yet.
"I hope you are thinking to yourself, 'how can I be a good little girl for the nice gentleman?'. Is that what you're thinking, Monika?"
She forces a 'yes, sir' through her clenched teeth.
"Very good. Just keep thinking that. Reflect that had you been a good girl from the start, there would have been no need for this."
A final twist to each clamp. The pain each time makes her tense her whole body. She sucks in deeply, too scared to cry out.
I wait a couple of minutes for her nipples to begin to throb. I busy myself selecting the next bits and pieces from my bag. A runny medical jelly is needed now and I have a tube in my hand. I coat her nipples and aureoles. Far from being numb, as I had anticipated, they must be very sensitive, as she moans quietly at the touch of my fingers.
The lubricant is there to improve conductivity, for now I bring out a pair of long wires, terminated with crocodile clips. For a moment, the sight of the swollen red tips tempts me to attach the clips directly on to the bare skin. Maybe another time. Instead, I let the sprung jaws close around the screw thread of each clamp. Most of the effect will be psychological anyway, which is why I am unhurried, careful to ensure she is fully aware of what I am doing.
Her whole body now glows with sweat. Her chest heaves. She watches in horror.
I loved studying physics at school. How else would I ever have learned how to turn three disposable cameras into an instrument of torment? I'm no engineer, but I am pleased with how I've been able to put their photo flash capacitors inside a sandwich box, powered by a 9-volt battery, and adapt the circuit to deliver a quite impressive jolt. Having tried it on my hand a few times to test it, I can verify that the resulting sting is quite painful. It takes a few seconds to recharge itself, which is no problem.
The wires now plugged into the box, I flick the toggle switch to close the circuit. She jumps, expecting to have electricity searing through her little tits. I chuckle.
"Now, young Monika, are you really sorry for being a naughty girl?"
Without hesitation, she gushes, "Yes, Sir."
"That's all very well and good, but you realise I have no option than to punish you, don't you?"
She hesitates. Is this one of the three questions? What reply will I want to hear?
I adjust my position, the control box in my hand where she can see it.
"Yes, Sir," she decides.
"Yes, Sir," I echo, smiling malevolently. "Indeed you do."
She braces herself as I move, but I stand up, leaving the controller beside her on the bed. I squat low on the floor beside the bed, my face level with her hips. Just as I had hoped. With her hogtied and arched back over the pillows like this, her pubic mound is thrust out, proud of the top of her legs. Can there be a more erotic profile?
An easy target.
"I'm in a good mood, Monika, so I'll just give you ten."
Her face, though flushed, loses some of its colour when she sees the supple, narrow leather belt I am now extracting from my bag. I tap it into my palm.
I stand up, dangling the end of the belt over her belly button, dragging it slowly down to tickle her vulnerable, gaping labia. The pointed tip dances delicately on her clitoral hood. Instinctively, she tries to pull away, but can only twist a few centimetres. Even that slight movement hurts.
On the floor by my feet are the remains of her knickers. I pinch her nose, to ensure she keeps her mouth open, then stuff the strip of cotton between her teeth and over her tongue, prodding the ball of material until most of it fills her mouth.
Like a golfer lining up a putt, I squat again by the side of the bed, stroking the edge of her labia with my fingertip. In front of me, I curl the buckle end of the belt around my hand: I suppose there is still 70 or so centimetres left to swing. I stand, and with no further warning, bring the wicked strap down on her. I have judged it well (practice makes perfect): it lands neatly perpendicular to her body, almost from hip bone to hip bone, so that much of the force is concentrated just above where the cleft of her pussy begins, on her little patch of pubic hair.
This is one of the moments I had been longing for. To see just how she would react. I am not disappointed.
For a fleeting moment, nothing happens, then she bucks hard upwards. The panties in her mouth stifle a high-pitched roar. As her brain registers the pain, she flails from side to side, her knees tugging against the pull of the elastic bungee. But when her reaction subsides, she is exactly back in the same position, bent over the pillow, open-legged, head firmly held into the mattress, and pussy shoved up in the air all ready for the next blow.
This time I let her see what I am doing, and when the leather cracks across her cunt, she is rigid with terrified anticipation. I've shortened the amount I swing, to make sure that I get the last few centimetres to descend directly across the middle of her pubis. Once more, she gives through the same wonderful reaction.
My next strokes are carefully measured too, one from either side of her, but this time, I stand a little farther up her body and swing the belt down at an angle, considerably harder than before, for I am aiming at the inside of her thighs, as high into the crotch as I can. I know that should hurt.
And to judge from the way she leapt off the bed after each one, I rather suspect it did.
Certainly within a minute, the delicate, pale skin was host to a matching pair of livid pink strips, curling down from just below her crotch towards the back of her legs.
I pause, marvelling at how the redness darkens almost imperceptibly as I watch, and the skin swells into a welt. It is so interesting that I have to repeat the strokes almost exactly to repeat the spectacle.
Again I wait a few minutes. Her body shudders as she sobs heartily. Tears stream down from the sides of her eyes, dampening the sheet. The wad of panties does its job, keeping the sound of her wailing and shrieking to an acceptably muffled, even erotic, level.
"Oh, poor old you, Monika," I mock, "and all because you refused to obey me. I hope you're learning your lesson."
And with that, I swing the belt from above my shoulder, landing it heavily across her cunt again.
I have begun to wonder if she has exhausted her tears, but the stifled roar and renewed moaning suggests she has some left. Three more measured strokes on her open pussy bring them out. Have I overdone it? Her cunt looks very sore and red. She is limp, flopped back over the pillows, sobbing incessantly.
The belt goes back in the bag. I sit on the end of the bed, idly toying with my prick, surveying the broad pink lines that deface the skin of her lower body. The places the belt landed are remarkably well-defined, a deep-rose colour, but where more than one blow has coincided, small red ridges are appearing, on both sides of her cunt and at the very top of her legs. One of her labia is quite swollen for several centimetres along the uppermost edge. In fact her whole cunt looks now looks like that of a girl several years older, more pumped up, fleshy, untidy. Never mind - she'll recover.
She'd better, I came here to fuck the little brat and I intend to do so, whatever.
Leaning down, I kiss where the glossy folds where her inner lips divide.
Her skin is glazed with sweat, and her crotch has a warm, raw aura. I lick a salty-tasting weal to the side of her crack. It feels so good. She stirs and whines into her gag. I wriggle my tongue against the reddest swelling in her labia. She yells and thrashes about. I have to shift, to avoid her flailing knee,
I move to face her properly, kneeling on the end of the mattress and placing my face centrally between her legs. My tongue alights on her inner lips, hot and smooth and more than ready to be licked and suckled and nibbled. I lap my tongue wetly up and down her pussy, simultaneously revelling in the taste of frightened little girl and leaving each wrinkle and fold slick with my saliva. I push my tongue flat and rub her up and down, then alternate with dainty, probing forays under the labia, around her clitoris, just inside her hot little vagina.
All the while, she is still snivelling, but at least she is mainly motionless again, just lying there held tight by her bonds, pained, scared, hurt, breathless, and fearful of what might come next.
Me, if I don't get a move on!
I nuzzle my pursed lips between her labia, sucking gently, drawing her clitoral hood up and rubbing firmly with my tongue the tiny, shiny flesh below. I suck more and push harder until I get a reaction - her knees try to close, but are held wide apart by the bungee. I reach up, and wrap my fingers around her hip bones, pulling her up against my mouth, as I suckle her clit.
Man, she tastes good. Hot and musky, yet not at all unpleasant. I slobber and lick her thoroughly, lapping around her vagina, flitting my tongue in and out. My spit drips from her crack on to the sheet. My cock is absolutely rock solid again.
Enough. I can sense her body relaxing just a tad - could it be she finds the slightest pleasure in what I'm doing? That would never do. At least has stopped sobbing at last.
I stop my licking.
Time for some more pain.
"Now, my dear, I need you to reassure me," I begin, wiping my face on the back of my hand.
I move to the other end of the bed, perching on the edge above her head. I give the nipple clamps a light tug, which tenses her up again.
Whilst I look her in the eye, my hand deftly collects the control box.
"You've had a good look at my nice, sharp knife, haven't you?"
She tries to reply but the wadded panties give up just a grunt.
"I'll take that as a 'Yes, Sir' shall I?"
This time she grunts, she forces her head to nod.
"OK. Good. Well what bothers me is that you might not take me seriously enough; that you might not believe I would actually slash your face to ribbons."
Her tired, wet, red-rimmed eyes stare back, willing me to accept her belief.
"Let's face it: you've been a bad girl already and had to be disciplined with the belt. Why should I think you'll be any different now? I need to be able to trust you, Monika. I need you to convince me that I can trust you. You know the consequences of disobeying me, but I want you to swear to me that you will never give me cause to punish you with the knife. Do you understand?"
Those stunning big brown eyes bulge and she nods vigorously to demonstrate her cooperation.
"Very well. We shall see. I am going to ask three things of you. All you must do is convince me you really do understand. Think of it as a little test. Pass it, and we move on."
I wiggle one of the nipple clamps. Her face creases in pain.
"... you don't want to think about what happens if you fail."
I press the passing contact switch in the lid of the plastic box.
A faint click inside as the pulse discharges through the circuitry. Her back whiplashes violently and the bed rocks. The panties absorb a long, raucous shriek. It works, then.
Her face retains a wild, startled expression. She pants noisily through her nose. I watch her hard, muscular tummy rise and fall rapidly.
She eyes my hand suspiciously when I reach for her face. I stroke her cheek, smoothing away a tear. My fingers take hold of the cloth balled up in her mouth; slowly I pull it out, tossing the damp material on the bedside rug. She smacks her lips, spitting out fibres, wetting her lips, at the same time sucking in air freely again.
She coughs. I go through to the bathroom and fill a tooth glass with water. She can't drink it, with her head pulled back like that, so I produce a plastic straw from my ever-resourceful holdall. I congratulate myself - without the rehearsal, I wouldn't have thought of that.
"Do you feel better for that, Monika?"
She tries to be grateful. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
I smile indulgently and thumb the contact switch.
Her body snaps and collapses on to the pillows. The young girl shrieks beautifully, the long squeal melding to a rough, breathy rasp. There are no neighbours to worry about. She can yell all she wants.
I'm torn. On the one hand, I really do need to fuck her soon. On the other, making her suffer is such excellent foreplay. I slide to the floor, leaning towards her. Holding her chin, I turn her face towards me as her panting subsides. I press my lips over her open mouth, parting her teeth with my tongue. My hand slides down her stomach, to her gaping cunt. I rub her pussy whilst probing her mouth. The little girl has no option than to accept my caress. I kiss and play with her until she calms down.
And suddenly I am standing, and she is left, breathless, yet again bewildered. Humiliated and violated.
"Listen carefully to me, Monika."
I wait until I have her full attention.
"The first thing I want you to do is make a solemn promise. You will never, ever, tell anyone about what has gone on here, or about me. That means Mutti, your teachers, the police, your Gran in Magdeburg and even your best friend, Chrissi. Do you promise me that, Monika?"
The capacitors deliver a sharp prompt.
She gulps, and squeaks a pained, "I promise. Sir."
"I won't tell anyone. Please. No more!"
The device has not yet had time to charge fully, but she gets the message as another sharp snap of a few thousand volts stings her swollen little nipples.
"I don't believe you."
Near hysterical, the little girl pleads, "I promise I won't ever say anything!"
She is quite frantic. Her lovely face is flushed and sweaty. That gorgeous full-lipped mouth, with its large white teeth, is twisted in anguish. I am close to it. I smell her breath: hot, redolent of stale cum.
She is still again, listening intently.
"Second. Swear never, ever again, to disobey me; swear to do anything I ask, any time, any place."
She is about to say something. I continue quickly.
"Because I do intend to see you again."
Her mouth freezes.
"Oh yes, this is only the first time. You belong to me now. I can get to you when I want, any time, any place. I know all about you. And you know what I'll do to you if you try anything stupid. I'll come for you. With my nice, sharp knife."
My words sink in. She is aghast.
"Monika?" I ask softly. "Do you swear to obey me, for as long as I see fit?"
She closes her eyes, frowning at the awfulness. This nightmare is set to continue for as long as this horrible man wants.
She senses my movement and braces for another shock. When it doesn't happen, she opens her eyes.
Yet again, I'm rifling through my bag of tricks. I notice her peering at me.
"Consider what you say, very carefully, Monika. Consider what you're promising. Think about what I've said to you. You will see me again. Quite soon. It may not be here. I may decide to see you somewhere else. But be under no illusion: I shall be spending plenty more time with you, and you will be very good to me."
I open the tube of medical jelly again, and proceed to rub it thickly all over her crotch.
"What you need to decide, is quite how well-behaved you'll be when we're together. Will you be sensible, and do whatever I demand of you? Or will you be silly and make me have to force you to be sexy?"
Replacing the cap on the tube, I hold up something new for her to view. It is actually just a metallic silver cigar holder, an empty plastic tube in fact, but it has a pair of wires running from it, matching those attached to her nipple clamps. I plug them into a second pair of sockets in the sandwich box.
"Hurts a bit, I expect, when the electricity hits your nipples?" I ask rhetorically. "Imagine what it will be like applied somewhere even more sensitive..."
I hold the rounded end of the tube against the inside of her thigh, slowly dragging it over her sweaty skin towards her cunny, where I slide it through the greasy coating of jelly: along her labia, pressing her urethra, then up and under the fold of flesh above her clitoris. The girl makes a curious snorting sound. She can't see what I am doing, but she can most assuredly feel the hardness of the tube against her tender, abused little cunt.
"So," I go on, resting the tube in the dint that is the mouth of her vagina, "are you going to promise to obey me, for as long as it takes?"
With no hesitation, she replies shakily," Yes, Sir."
I push the tip against the ring of muscle. Slippery with jelly, it passes inside easily, one, two, three centimetres. She stiffens, sucks in her breath.
"Who do you belong to, Monika?"
"What will you let me do to you, Monika?"
"Um, anywhere, Sir," she stammers, as the cylinder creeps a shade deeper still.
"So, whenever, wherever and however I choose, you promise to do anything I want?" I ask, with a sceptical inflection.
I gaze around her body to watch her face, carefully bringing the control box into line of sight.
"You promise that, and understand that if you break your promise, I'll scar you for life?"
Swallowing hard, she nods and croaks," Yes, Sir."
My hand pauses over the contact switch. Her wide, frightened eyes are fixed on my thumb. I could almost come, this power is so thrilling. The seconds pass, as I keep her in terrible suspense. Her fists are clenched tight, anticipating the shock; she pants hysterically through her nose.
I relax, smile at her, and set the box back down on the creased duvet cover beside her.
"Good. I accept your promise. Then there is just one more question to ask you."
She focuses on me, struggling to overcome her mounting exhaustion. After being bend over backwards so uncomfortably, she is evidently aching all over.
"I am going to rape you next. I can do it quickly, but be rough, or you can start behaving like a little slut and we'll go easy and take our time. What's it to be - fast and hard or slow and gentle?"
Miserably, she mutters, almost sotto voce, "Slow and gentle, Sir."
"I didn't quite catch that, Monika. Did you ask me to fuck you slow and gentle?"
She stares into space. "Yes, Sir"
Briskly I tell her, "Then ask me properly."
"Please fuck me slow and gentle, Sir"
I grin in triumph.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
A wary relief shows in her face: I ease the cigar tube from her pussy and unfasten the bungee, which has been spreading her knees wide. She instinctively attempts to bring her legs together, but her hands and feet are still pinned beneath her and so she can do little more than move them slightly from side to side, to ease the tightness in her muscles.
She cries out loud when I release and remove the first clamp. The throbbing as the circulation normalises makes her eyes water. But she sighs with undisguised relief as the second clamp joins its partner in my bag. The tiny nipples are elongated and purple.
One last step back to admire my handiwork, and I set about making her more suitably arranged for the last part of this afternoon's entertainment. I release the padlock on her choke chain, so that she has more freedom to move, yet is still attached to the frame of the bed. I roll her on to her side and shuffle her on to her stomach, then unfasten the padlock that has chained her ankle and wrist cuffs together. I unbend her legs slowly: she moans as I let them straighten. I don't want her to get cramp. Her wrists, I refasten behind her back, but at least they are no longer straining against the tug of her ankles and her back is once again straight. She sighs in relief.
She looks so incredibly small. Face down like this with her head to one side, framed by her pigtails, her cute little bottom and tiny waist could be that of a child. She is actually a very small girl, not much above 150cm I would guess. The soft, white skin on her backside is irresistible - I fondle her and run my hands loosely up and down the inside of her thighs.
Her bottom just has to be spanked. So firm and inviting. There is no doubt about that, but I've more pressing matters to attend to. Next time.
I clear the bed of toys and pillows and instruct her to lie still. She complies, still grateful to be free of the bonds that held her so uncomfortably when I beat and tormented her. I tidy away the apparatus I no longer need, placing my black overalls on top of my bag. I like to keep things tidy.
My knob is wet from pre-cum yet again. I bend over and present it to her lips, to see what she would do.
There is a brief pause, and she wipes her tongue over it, and closes her mouth softly around the first few centimetres. Satisfied with her spontaneous performance, I withdraw and stand up.
Christ, she almost looks hurt!
I climb on to the bed and straddle her body, on all fours. Dipping my hips, I rest my cock in the cleft of her arse and amuse myself rubbing up and down. Her sweat has cooled and as it evaporates, her skin is almost cold.
From here I can appreciate her neck, so slender and pure, dominated by the sturdy choke chain hanging loosely about it. I lean forward and place a soft kiss on the lobe of her ear, licking and nuzzling the side of her throat, behind her ear and back of her neck. I am so close, I can whisper. I move my knees, so that my calves press against her thighs. She is so very tiny, underneath my naked body.
"Sometimes, when you're alone in here, tucked up under this comfy duvet, you let your fingers wander down between your legs and you touch yourself, Monika. Don't pretend you don't. You let your fingers rest on your pussy and sometimes you push down and sometimes you rub yourself, and it feels quite nice. You do, don't you, Monika?"
I am bluffing of course, but she'd be a strange thirteen-year-old girl if she didn't once in a while.
She responds to my conspiratorial tone.
"Yes, Sir," she breathes.
I suckle her ear.
"Do you touch your breasts too?"
"If I take the chain off your wrists, will you roll over and show me how you touch yourself?"
I am coaxing, intimate. Not overtly threatening.
She whispers, "Yes, Sir."
I continue to nuzzle and kiss her neck for a few moments more, then roll off to one side, to remove the lock and chain binding her wrist cuffs. Keen to build on the more relaxed and intimate mood, I gentle her on to her back again, and kiss her affectionately on her cheek and jaw, whilst leading her hands down to her crotch. Her face is salty and streaked with sweat and countless tears.
Her fingers lightly explore her sore pussy. She winces upon touching the swollen area of her labia, where I had brought the belt down so sadistically. She is still slippery from the jelly. Her fingers roam and rub.
"That's lovely, Monika," I whisper, propping myself up on my elbow. "I shan't interfere - just do what feels nicest. You've earned this."
I punctuate her silent masturbation with occasional light kisses to her face and shoulder and breasts.
"You can close your eyes if it helps," I suggest.
She does, but one flickers open frequently to check what I am doing.
But I am doing nothing. Although I would not have expected her to feel at all aroused, after the beating and with the promise of imminent rape, the coating of lubricant does at least make it easy for her fingers to explore and stroke her own cunt. It is a welcome interlude and for a full five minutes, I am content to watch her go through the motions. It is bizarre, lying next to this little girl on her own bed, watching as her fingers silently flex between her legs. I am a grown man, a bit of a player. I can have no end of girls in this town, and yet here I am, so horny I could explode, cuddling up to a skinny little schoolgirl.
Finally, I can resist her bruised and tender nipples no longer. I have to suck and lick and kiss them. The soreness causes her to cry out and her hand is stilled.
Never mind. I want to fuck her. Now.
I kiss her lips at length. She remains stiff and unyielding, but she is young and inexperienced, and I find her naivety most stimulating.
I sit up, lift her bottom to the centre of the mattress, and guide her legs apart, so that I can move over between them. I kneel, then lean forward, one hand stroking the lower part of her cunt, the other easing my foreskin back and forth. Not that I need any more preparation. I don't recall having been so hard and bloated for years.
Finding her vagina, I dip my finger inside slightly and as I bend over her, use it to guide the tip of my penis against the tiny, slippery hole. I push. She turns her head to the side, shuts her eyes.
Damn. I enter her easily, a couple of centimetres, but it doesn't feel right. I reach down beside the bed, flailing around until I locate a pillow. She is so ridiculously small; she needs it beneath her arse, to lift her cunt to a more convenient level. That's better. Still kneeling above her, I insinuate my knees under her thighs, pushing her legs wider apart until she is widely open and available. Rising up on my haunches, and pressing by fingers around the base of my dick to stretch back the skin and control it more effectively, I line up on the tiny, glistening black hole and settle the very tip if my cock into it again.
She is once more rigid with nervous anticipation. However, I sense that she has made a conscious effort to lie back and let it happen, resigned to the inevitability that I am about to give her her first fuck.
She braces, I push, firm but not violent.
There is no great resistance. There is no great tearing of hymen, or screams or blood. Yes, she is extremely tight, and it feels as if she has a tight ring of somthing just inside her, which grips my penis hard as it passes through and up inside the hot grasp of her cunny. She gasps, for sure, and when I pause and push harder, upwards, to explore her deeper, she exhales and makes a wonderfully sexy little whimpering noise each time I venture higher inside her. But we are so well lubricated that it is not painful for either of us, merely challenging. I fancy I can connect with every nerve ending in my cock; I can imagine it clenched by the smooth, slippery walls of her young vagina, envision my straining erection forcing open her immature pussy, deeper and deeper.
I am insistent, not aggressive. Bit by bit, I withdraw a smidgeon, the flex my hips to slip further inside her, until eventually I can simultaneously feel the tip of my cock repeatedly hitting something very small and stiff high up in her belly, and the soft flesh around the base of my cock meeting the firmness of her pubic mound. I have given her my all, and suppose am knocking at the door of her womb, as she winces each time I connect with it.
This is everything I had hoped it would be. She is so tiny and fragile beneath me, and to feel her impaled on my fullest erection is just incredible. I want to stand up and shake her around, with my cock buried so deep; I imagine carrying her outside, with her legs wrapped around my waist, to show the world how I'm fucking this cute little girl.
Her eyes are still tight shut, her taut lips contorting silently as my penis slips and slithers in and out of her, each time from a minutely different angle or different depth, or entering more slowly, or thrusting harder. I place my hands over her hips, pulling her little body towards me. As I shove my cock inside, I can now tug her up to meet it, and when I have thrust all I can into her warm, slippery grasp, I grind hard against her, crushing her clitoris between our bodies. I lift my backside up, so that I can fuck her from a sharper angle, so that the top of my hardness rubs upwards against her clit during the full extent of my strokes in and out.
That works. She grunts and pants, and the sound of her girlish moans and gasps is so thrilling. I quicken, and push more quickly, my passion fuelled by those wonderful, innocent sounds. The harder I lunge, the more she squeaks and sighs.
Until I am pounding up inside her.
The bed rocks. Her tiny little body reverberates under me. I move my hands, supporting my weight on either side of her ribcage. I can see every rib moving under her skin as I whip my hips back and forth, thrusting hard up into her. Her mouth is open as she gasps for breath. I can see her big teeth, a hint of her little tongue.
A shallow frown creases her brow. I am well on my way, with each shove, I seem to half lift her from the bed, and I allow myself to withdraw almost completely, before forcing my cock hard into her again.
Faster now. Self-control is no longer an option. Just a few more and...
Oh Jesus, that feels good. I moan out loud, my cool disposition temporarily supplanted by the overwhelming ecstasy of the moment. I can feel every part of my cock; sense the pulsations and the host rush of semen exploding thickly from the tip. All that preparation, and anticipation, for this. Wave upon wave of utter pleasure, blessed relief at the throbbing release of my spunk far up inside this tiny young girl. I open my eyes and look down at her skinny little body, so small and innocent. Well maybe not quite so innocent now. She has her hand to her mouth, is chewing the knuckle of her thumb. She stares at the sheet, unsure what happens now.
My cock is still twitching, spitting out even more cum. I force it as deep as I can, the knuckles of my fingers turning white as I grip her hips roughly and haul her flimsy little body so hard up against me. Surely I can't have any more spunk to ooze inside her tight pussy?
Spent, I collapse over her, still buried deep in her hot little cunt. I want to stay inside her as long as I can. Her head fits neatly beneath my chin. I let her bear much of my weight, but considerately rest on my lower arms each side of her chest. I try to be still, yet my heart is pounding and the nerves in my groin keep me totally aware of the tight grip she has around my exhausted, satisfied cock. I rest, catching my breath, and as the minutes pass, feel myself lose stiffness and begin to shrink back out of her.
I yearn to kiss her lovely pale neck again, but I don't want to relax, or demonstrate any affection. She must know that I fucked her entirely for my own pleasure, not hers, and that her body is something I intend to use, not worship. No weakness!
Eventually, my penis slithers very wetly out, her abused vaginal muscles pushing me on my way, like a petulant bouncer ejecting someone who got the better of him earlier on. I look down. Our bodies are wet and sticky with bodily fluids and the ever-present lubricant. A small dribble of pale cum appears and trickles slowly from her cunt. If there had been any blood, I can't see it: I don't think she had much of a hymen anyway.
I kneel up, pull my thighs from under hers, and her bottom slides down on to the bed.
"Keep your legs apart," I instruct her, getting up off the bed.
I walk around the bed to yet again offer my cock to her lips.
"Kiss my cock and thank me for a nice fuck."
She has no spirit left, and meekly pecks her lips on to the wet end of my penis. Without looking up, she mutters, "Thank you, Sir."
I cough. She looks up and sees I am displeased.
"Thank you for a nice fuck," she says, loud deliberate, her eyes sparking with spite.
I check my watch. A full half hour left.
Although I allow her to sit up, I insist she keeps her knees wide apart, and I am rewarded by the growing wet patch on the sheet as her little cunt continues to expel my semen: erupting in tiny bubbles occasionally, then dribbling down to her anus.
I remove her cuffs and put them away in my bag, then unfasten the chain from the frame of the bed, so that I can lead her by it into the adjacent bathroom. Just as she turns to enter, I give it a hard tug and she stumbles towards me. I catch her, shoving my knee between her legs. Her cunt is wet against my thigh. I lift and pull her towards me, pressing my mouth over hers.
"You're lucky this time, Monika. Mutti will be on her way soon, or else I'd like to stay here and fuck the arse off you all fucking night."
She stands in front of me, shivering and frightened. My hands reach around her throat and for just a few moments, I close them around her neck. She closes her eyes. But I simply lift the chain over her head, with a cruel chuckle.
She requests to use the toilet and I smirk at her humiliated disbelief when I readily agree to let her pee, but only once she is squatting spread-legged over the bathtub with her feet on either rim, so that she has to perform with me watching.
We shower together; washing each other's bodies down in silence. I get a fresh buzz, as my hands roam over her little body, feeling her thinness, her subtle curves, those immature little breasts, just slightly discoloured, and her narrow, hard little arse. She soaps me robotically, unable to avoid looking at me whilst she rubs my skin. When her fingers cleanse my cock, she gets flustered. Oh I do love the way she is still girlishly coy, despite having just been stripped, beaten, tortured and raped. Incredibly, I am hardening rapidly, but unfortunately I am so tender from my exertions, that I merely allow her to rinse me quickly and continue washing me down my legs. I replace her choke chain before we leave the bathroom.
I sit on her bedroom chair, wrapped in the towelling sheet I brought with me, content to watch her damp naked body as she follows my instructions and restores her bedroom to the way it was an hour or so before, making the bed, folding her school clothes. I finish packing my trusty bag and slip back inside my coveralls.
The room passes my inspection.
"You may remove the chain now," I inform her. She hands it to me.
"Pass me those panties."
She handles the soggy mass of torn cotton with disgust, as if it represented all the terrible things she had just endured. I put it in my bag. That's it then. Job done. Little girl fucked.
"You had better be a good hostess and see me out," I smile, beckoning her to follow me to the door of the apartment. Just as I place my hand on the handle, I swing round. I have palmed the knife without her noticing and she shrinks back in terror as I suddenly point the blade at her naked body.
"Don't forget what you swore, Monika. Or else you'll be seeing this again sooner than you think. Understand?"
She cowers, arms pulled protectively over her front.
I let my arm drop.
"Give me a proper kiss goodbye."
Very cautiously she steps closer, lifts herself up on tiptoe and aims her mouth towards my face. I make no concessions, obliging her eventually to place her hand on my chest and stretch fully to meet my lips.
"Thank you, Monika. I can't wait 'til the weekend."
I pause; it doesn't take long for her to understand the meaning.
"Until then, I'll be watching you..."
I hurry out of the flat, leaving the door wide open. I glance back as I take the stairs: she is still standing in the hallway, naked, mouth open in disbelief that in only a couple of days, she might have to go through her ordeal all over again.
When I approach the clapped out Volkswagen parked just around the corner, I find myself whistling. Job well done.
I rap on the driver's window (using my pass key to the girl's flat, an irony that amuses me greatly) and a miserable young woman winds it down. She is red-eyed and screws a shredded tissue in her hand. I smile mockingly at her.
"Good evening, Silke. How are you?" I say breezily. She stares sullenly without reply.
"Oh well, never mind. I'm sure you'll be delighted to know that it went very well. Monika was most obliging, although her sheet and duvet will need a good wash: it all got a bit messy towards the end. She's fine, by the way. A bit sore perhaps. She's probably getting on with her homework. She thinks you had a puncture, so there's no need to rush home. Give her fifteen or twenty minutes to sort herself out before you go round the corner."
The woman glared at my undisguised pleasure in reporting the successful rape of her virgin daughter. Her clenched fist mangled the soggy tissue against the steering wheel.
"Now you will remember to tell me if she mentions anything to you? It doesn't matter if the two of you talk of course, but I did make a point of asking her to keep my visit to herself and if she can't be trusted to keep her word, that might jeopardise our whole little agreement. Actually I really do hope she doesn't talk about it for wouldn't she be so terribly upset with you if she realised her loving Mutti knew all about it already? Prostituting her own daughter? Despicable!"
Her tearful black eyes smoulder.
"Right then, that's about it for now. I want her again on Saturday afternoon, so make sure she's at home and make yourself scarce from 14:00 to 17:00, OK? Oh, and put clean sheets on your bed, I may have to use it if we get a bit more athletic."
She nods, biting her lip.
She has little choice. It is 1990, and she is an Ossi (6) and a single parent, and she has no close family or money. I had done the odd lucrative cross-border transaction with her late husband in the Eighties and when he was killed in an autobahn pile-up not long after the Wall came down, I had generously taken her under my wing, employing her in my packing plant, letting her rent this crummy apartment over one of my bars, even replacing her life-expired Trabi (7) with the old but functional Golf. She owes me several thousand Marks and has no hope of paying me back, especially with the interest calculated the way I do it.
It took some pressure, but I finally persuaded her to let me fuck her once in a while, to pay off some of the interest. She was good for the occasional knee-trembler or blowjob under the office desk, but it was when I saw her out shopping with Monika that I was inspired to plot my way into the young girl's knickers. The whole concept fascinated me.
Not that at that time I especially wanted to have sex with a small girl: I was actually enjoying simply preying on her mother. So, I turned up the heat, hinting about evicting her and discussing possible accidents and the deperate Silke had no option, if she wanted to keep a roof over her head and stay in one piece, than to turn a blind eye and let me have some fun with her lovely thirteen-year-old daughter.
Adjusting my tender cock inside my overalls, I can vouch that it was fun, more fun than I would ever had imagined.
I press my hand on her arm, giving her a reassuring shake.
"Cheer up, Silke. Just think - you owe me 500 Marks less than you did this morning, so that can't be all bad, can it?"
That afternoon marked a major change not only in the life of young Monika, but also my own. I hadn't really expected to, but fucking and tormenting the little girl was the most sexually exhilarating thing I'd ever done. What is the buzz? I think being in total control of such a tiny body. I used her regularly for a couple of years, even moving her in with me for a few months so that I could have her at will. She provided popular entertainment when business associates called round and it dawned on me quite how many men were secretly tempted by underage pussy. Then one day I had to punish her for something, and so I made her spend a weekend in the seedy knocking shop I owned down by the station. Apparently, she was in constant demand when word got around the regular punters. She came back quite literally shagged out.
Never one to ignore a business opportunity, I took advantage of this niche market, and became one of the first Germans to set up a network supplying brothels in the West with very young girls harvested from the former Iron Curtain countries. Everyone's at it these days, of course, but I was a pioneer. Poland, Romania - my goodness, we had some amazing times back then. Made a tidy fortune and never looked back. And I had plenty of fun with lots of little girls on the way. Maybe I'll write up some more reminiscences one day.
I'm semi-retired now - most of the old business is franchised out to disgusting Albanians and Serbs and I'm bored rigid, lazing by the pool in my Spanish villa. I miss the old times. But I do have such fond memories of sweet little Monika, and the first time I had her.
Wonder what happened to her? Married I expect? A mother even? What if she has a daughter of her own?
Now wouldn't that be fun?
1 Colloquially 'Stay calm, little girl, and you won't get hurt'.
2 Translates as 'Cunt'.
3 Colloquially 'massive tits' (used ironically).
4 A department store.
5 Municipal indoor swimming pool.
6 From the former German Democratic Republic (DDR).
7 A Trabant - primitive car produced in the DDR.
A Geile Tussi is an attractive young girl. Like Monika.
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