Vanessa stood rooted to the spot by a mixture of fear and fascination. The man, who she guessed was her new employer stood beside an artist's easel calmly surveying his subject, a girl about Vanessa's own age - twelve - who hung by her arms, her thigh-high booted feet barely touching the parquet floor.
Her arms were held stretched above her by a slender, yet obviously strong cord, which at one end was fastened to a ceiling beam and at the other was clipped onto a pair of leather cuffs that bound the girl's wrists close together. Apart from the high black boots the girl was quite naked.
Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat Vanessa hardly dared breathe as the man, his back still turned to her, took a few steps back from his easel and regarded his subject. He stood, feet apart, hands on hips then ran the fingers of one hand through his short dark hair.
"Hang your head back like I told you yesterday," he ordered, his voice as cold and hard as iron. The girl whose head had been lolling forward, her long tousled hair covering her face, which in turn was obscured by her up-stretched arms, obeyed the instruction.
Her hair fell clear of her face to reveal that she wore a black velvet blindfold and a black leather covered ball gag that filled her mouth, forcing her jaws painfully wide. Vanessa caught her breath and hearing her the man swung around. His gaze swept over her, anger flaring in his eyes, then recognition and a smile slowly flickered across his face.
"You must be Vanessa."
"I'm sorry if I..."
The man shrugged, waving aside her attempt at apology. He was no more than forty, clean shaven, tall, wearing black jeans and black polo neck. He calmly regarded Vanessa and when her glance flickered to the little girl hanging behind him he allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes and the man's met again and they read each other's thoughts.
"I made it very clear to your parents that I wanted a nude model." The subtext of his statement was a question for Vanessa: was she now afraid of the summer job her mom and dad asked her to do?
"I know." Vanessa nodded mechanically. Her heart was racing now, her palms clammy. Inside her she felt a tide of panic swell and rise.
"And I gave your mother photographs to see my type of work."
"Not... not... like..." Vanessa glanced at the little girl and it was an effort to tear her gaze away. There was something strangely hypnotic about the spectacle.
"Not quite like that?" suggested the man, finishing Vanessa's sentence for her. "I had a commission come through and Michelle was very willing..." Vanessa nodded dumbly.
"Take a look," the man smiled disarmingly, gesturing for her to inspect the sketches on his easel.
Vanessa gingerly moved into the room and pushing her long blonde hair clear of her face she bent forwards to scrutinise the sketches.
"This was the first." The man was beside her, lifting one sketch aside to reveal another.
"This came later."
In both the child had her head hung backwards, and was blindfolded and gagged, but in the second her tiny young breasts were distended from weights that hung clipped to her swollen nipples.
Vanessa wanted to recoil in disgust from the images but she found herself spellbound. Looking at the girl hanging before her, she imagined herself in her place and she experienced the first stirring of sexual hunger in her loins.
"You see Vanessa, my pictures and photographs are sold to collectors around the world who have, shall we say... a penchant for seeing female children in some degree of distress. The photograph I sent your mother to illustrate my style of work, which was it?"
"A naked girl standing at a window with her hands tied behind her back," Vanessa answered mechanically, her gaze flicking from the sketches before her to the girl in front of her.
"Yes. Very restrained. But you surely got the message?"
Vanessa nodded her head.
"Good. I'm looking forward to working with you."
The man reached into his back pocket, took something out and strolled up to his subject.
"This is Michelle's last session. She's been with me since April." Speaking quite matter-of-factly, he nonchalantly cupped the girl's left little breast with one hand and with the fingers of his other hand he began toying with her nipple. Vanessa watched as the girl tried ineffectually to twist herself away as her nipple was worked until fully erect, then, her breast held firmly with one hand to prevent her from pulling away, the man clipped a small, black, tear shaped weight onto her nipple. Vanessa heard the girl give a short intake of breath through her nostrils and murmur something that the gag made incoherent. The man withdrew his hand from supporting the weight of the little girl's breast, then calmly, almost casually, he dealt with the other breast in a like fashion before standing back to regard his handiwork. "Michelle darling, try to keep still."
The child was writhing more and more frantically even whilst they watched. Her muffled cries became more and more urgent but because of the ball gag they remained no louder than the creaking of the leather around her wrists as she twisted and pulled against her restraints.
The wind relentlessly threw the rain against the large plate glass window. Scarcely visible through the rain, the sea surged, foaming waves twenty feet high pounding the glistening black cliffs unceasingly. The sky was bristling with ranks of storm clouds that closed menacingly over the lonely house. Scarra stood at the end of a mile long pot-holed track that led from the nearest road, itself one of those narrow, seldom used, twisting lanes that thread the wild peninsulas of the far north west coast of Scotland. Her parents drove her all the way from London. She remembers gazing around her, the wind flicking her hair across her eyes when they arrived to their destination. The road stretched desertedly in both directions and on either side of the road the moor yawned empty, punctuated only by pools of black water. They had stared down the track but no house was in sight, though in the distance she could see the sea. The damp wind had begun to eat into her clothes but it was more the thought of what lay ahead that had made Vanessa shiver despite her mother's assurances.
Now though, inside the studio, it was pleasantly warm which was a comfort for her as she discarded her jeans and tossed them over the chair where her T-shirt already lay.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes. It's really quiet here. I mean, the only sound is the wind. It's strange after London."
"Sasha organised you breakfast?"
"Okay, now turn around."
Vanessa obeyed, glancing from the man to the window and then around the room. Surreal, she thought, she was really here, after so many talks with her parents and weeks of anticipation. The day she'd read the magazine advertisement seemed an age away now. School, London, her friends, her whole life up to yesterday suddenly seemed so distant that she now felt it almost beyond her grasp.
"So your favourite singer is Britney Spears?"
"Yes," Vanessa answered, forcing herself to keep still as the man slowly circling her drew closer and closer.
"You're shivering, would you like the heating turned up more?"
"No. No. I think it's just nerves. Sorry."
"Don't apologise. It's natural. The first session is always the most difficult."
No kidding, thought Vanessa, forcing herself to stand obediently still as the man circled her. She felt his hand stroking over her shoulder and down her arm as if she was some puppy he was inspecting. Her mind replayed the words her parents made her write her first letter to him... I'm four feet seven, blonde with blue eyes. I enjoy swimming and gymnastics to keep fit. I'm in year six and like going to school and would be really interested in your vacancy for a summer model.'
"Take your training bra off."
Vanessa smiled to herself. The man stood patiently waiting; the atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Vanessa reached behind her, one of her finger nails flicked the frail hook of metal free from its clasp and the straps loosened across her shoulders. She couldn't resist looking sideways at the man as she allowed the gossamer material to slacken from its caress around her budding little breasts.
She tossed the bra onto the chair, furtively glancing as she did so to the man's crotch. To her delight there was the telltale bulge against the black denim. She'd have him begging for her, she mused, just like the boys at her school she enjoyed using for her own pleasure.
The man's gaze lingered on her little breasts. Slowly, thoughtfully he licked his lips and nodded approvingly. Vanessa remembered how he had calmly caressed Michelle's breasts. His thumb brushing over her nipples to harden them before he had clipped on the weights. A shiver of expectation ran through her and Vanessa glanced down to see that her own nipples were becoming erect as her mind replayed what she had witnessed the other girl being forced to experience.
"Now your pants."
Vanessa hesitated for only a second. She had been rehearsing this moment for weeks and had fantasised about the pleasure she would extract from being this man's submissive model. Each day they worked together he would be having to force himself not to touch her but all the time she'd be subtly teasing him, provoking him, until he was gagging for it.
In her mind she imagined him sat reading her second letter, probably smiling to himself as he examined her photograph more closely...
"Dear Mister Marshall, thank you so much for your reply to my letter of the 11th and for your explanation of the type of work you are expecting from your model. I am quite prepared to model naked and my parents have no objection for me to role-play as you describe it, "the submissive female child". I understand that you would wish to paint and photograph me bound and restrained and me and my parents give consent to this. I hope you will regard my application favourably. I would be your most willing subject.
Yours sincerely, Vanessa Richardson, age 12."
Vanessa held her gaze straight ahead as the man circled her, then the door opened and the man stood back, nodding as if satisfied with what he saw. Vanessa glanced sideways at the young woman who'd entered.
"I saw Michelle onto the bus. It's foul out there today." The young woman glanced at Vanessa as she lit herself a cigarette, then she asked the man; "So how's your new recruit shaping up?"
Sasha, Vanessa guessed, was in her mid-twenties. She had introduced herself that morning as 'Michael's partner', whilst helping Vanessa to cereal and toast as they sat at the kitchen table. As Vanessa ate, the older girl sipped from a mug of steaming, freshly ground coffee and intermittently inhaled on a Gauloise that she toyed with in her other hand. Chatting, she'd seemed amiable and Vanessa quickly felt at her ease with her.
Vanessa's mother had done some research on Michael Marshall and found a couple of brief references to him in some more obscure modern art books. The most detail was in one book published in America that commented; 'Michael Marshall. Trained Saumur Academie d'Art and the Vellaris School Amsterdam. Mostly female nudes. 'The Subdued Vixen' auctioned New York 1996 sold for £26,000 was roundly criticised and by the Herald Tribune described as 'Pure pornography dressed up as art.'
There was a picture of the painting and the model was 11-year-old Sasha. Naked, she knelt secured to a table leg by a collar and lead and was captured by the artist whilst she drank like a cat from a bowl of milk.
Now 19, Sasha wore black leather trousers tucked into black boots and a loose fitting, red, turtleneck cashmere jumper and it was Vanessa who was completely naked. As Sasha walked behind her, Vanessa caught the scent of her French cigarettes and expensive French perfume.
"Right Vanessa, come over here, I want you to try some things on."
Vanessa quickly followed the man across to a large old walnut wardrobe from which he was already handing her a pair of white socks.
Beside the wardrobe was a footstool and balancing her feet in turn on this she pulled on the calf length socks.
"Try this skirt on - it'll be a bit tight but see." Vanessa smiled enthusiastically as she wriggled into the short, navy blue pleated skirt.
"How does that look?" she asked, smiling hopefully.
"Short enough to almost show your bottom off. Just perfect. Now put on this shirt."
"I think it may be too small," Vanessa eyed the white cotton shirt dubiously but slid her arms into the sleeves and managed to fasten the buttons at her waist.
"Leave the other buttons undone. Put this tie on but inside the collar of the shirt."
"This is meant to be a school uniform isn't it?"
The man nodded, an enigmatic smile flickering across his face as Vanessa eagerly slipped the blue and white striped tie inside the collar of the shirt and knotted it around her neck so that it hung over her bare chest, it's pointed tip dangling between her budding nipples. When she bent from the waist to fasten the straps of the black high-heeled shoes she was given to wear, her perky breasts pointed down from the skimpy cotton shirt and Vanessa felt deliciously lewd. She was loving every minute of this.
"Okay Vanessa, let me talk you through how I work and what I want. Follow me."
Vanessa came quickly to heel just behind her new employer as he strode across the study and threw open a door to a room that was new to Vanessa. For a second Vanessa hesitated in the doorway, taking in the contents of the room. Behind her, Sasha, with one hand between her shoulder blades and the other against her waist, pushed Vanessa into the room, putting her own back against the door until it shut with an ominously heavy thud.
"This is where we start," Michael stepped sideways to afford Vanessa a clear view of the room, "It's here that you learn to feel your part. My clients pay for realism and that has to show in the subject's eyes. What's the point in having a picture of a girl tied up, maybe about to be whipped, when the expression in her eyes is one of boredom and ambivalence, because she knows that nothing is really going to happen and that she's just modelling, just pretending..."
"But... I'm willing to be tied up and I can pretend to..."
"That's just my point Vanessa. I don't want to see you pretending. You see, you're going to have to learn to fear what we're going to do with you."
"I... I don't understand," Vanessa stammered.
"No, I think you do."
The man smiled grimly, moved across to a table and unscrewed the lid from a small bottle." You've guessed well enough what's really expected from you and that's why you came here. You want this."
"No, I..." Vanessa shook her head.
"You'll be perfect," Sasha reassured, stroking Vanessa's shoulder, "just relax and trust us."
As the man walked back up to her Vanessa saw he held a thick pad of cotton wool in the palm of one hand. He was smiling disarmingly.
"You see Vanessa, when one of my clients looks at pictures of a disobedient little school girl who is being punished, the expression in her face has to be right..."
"I'm sorry, I think maybe..."
"Don't think baby, just let us look after you," Sasha whispered from close behind her. Vanessa caught a chemical smell in the air then for a moment it was masked by Sasha's French perfume and cigarettes. The woman's hands reassuringly stroked down both her arms.
"I'm sorry Mister Marshall but..."
"Michael. Call me Michael."
He stood close in front of her radiating calm. Then he smiled disarmingly. "Don't worry Vanessa. If you don't enjoy the work after the first session we'll stop and call your parents to pick you up, all right?"
"Okay then." Vanessa nodded.
"This will make everything easier for you the first time Vanessa. Just trust us," Sasha said, her hands tightening around Vanessa's biceps and drawing her arms backwards.
Vanessa was never able to finish her question. A thick pad of cotton wool was suddenly pressing against her face and although she wanted to pull free from it Sasha was firmly grasping her arms, thwarting her efforts. The chemical smell assailed her, giddiness overtaking her immediately. Oh God, she thought, they're going to drug me! Got to get free! She tried twisting her face away but a hand was behind her head. Let me go! She shook her head frantically but she couldn't tear herself away from the chemical soaked pad that pressed against her face. To her dismay she felt the strength suddenly evaporate from her arms. Wide eyed, she implored the man to let her go but he merely smiled his apology, one hand firmly pressing the pad of wool against her mouth and nose, his other preventing her from pulling her head back. She felt her body go weak and her eyelids grew heavy, sleepiness stealing over her even as she knew that she had to resist. For a few seconds Vanessa started to struggle again in one last frantic bid to save herself. Her strength was gone though and she was doing no more than wriggling in the arms of the girl who held her. The man was smiling with satisfaction. For a few more seconds she floated giddily between awareness and unconsciousness.
Sasha lit herself another Gauloise, inhaled deeply and gazed out of the window. The rain had washed the colour from the landscape. Sea, sky and land were shades of slate grey. The wind, which was still rising, echoed up from the cliff caves like a banshee and the only other noise was the dull grinding of sea against rock. A faint murmur behind her made Sasha glance back over her shoulder. She smiled to herself seeing Vanessa weakly lift her head.
"Enjoy your little sleep Vanessa?" Sasha asked, forcing her voice to sound concerned, her words dripping with honeyed sweetness, "...does our baby have a little bit of a sore head? Don't worry, it'll wear off. What's wrong darling, you look so concerned? Is something the matter?"
"Please... what... ugh... I feel sick..."
"Poor little lamb. It's just the after effect from the chloroform. You just lie still now," Sasha said, stubbing out her cigarette. "Don't worry Vanessa, I'll take good care of you. We won't do anything to you that you don't like."
She watched Vanessa testing her restraints. Three-inch wide, supple leather cuffs. Well worn on the inside but still shiny black on the outside. Brass double buckles closely fastened so the leather was snug around Vanessa's wrists and ankles.
"What a pleasing sight," Sasha commented dryly.
They had put Vanessa on what Michael referred to simply as 'the bench'; a sturdy pine table that Michael had bolted onto the studio floor, it had leather straps fixed to two of its solid legs. On its top at the other end two brass rings were fastened to the corners and down the sides of the table were spaced several broad, long, leather belts, fixed through straps of leather screwed down into the table. On the other side of the table were more straps to feed the belts through, these likewise screwed onto the wood. The belts, for the present, dangled unused down over the floor.
Vanessa lay, bent from the waist, face down over the tabletop, her arms outstretched above her, her wristcuffs clipped onto the brass rings. The leather straps around the table legs were threaded through the rings on her ankle cuffs and by this means her legs were held securely against the table's legs.
Vanessa was gazing at her outstretched arms, her expression slowly changing from curiosity to concern as she twisted her wrists ineffectually trying to free herself.
"Michael, she's awake."
Sasha removed her cashmere jumper, smiling at Vanessa who was now lifting her head and trying to take in what was around her. Sasha toyed with the stud in her belly button then ran her hands over her black lacy Valentino bra, licking her lips thoughtfully and glancing across to Michael who was adjusting the tripod height and focus on the second video camera.
"Not quite as sexy as yours, are they Vanessa? I envy you... I was like you once. I think your little tities got you the job, you know." Sasha gently stroked herself, feeling her nipple harden under the silk, then she dug in the front pocket of her leather jeans and pulled out a silk scarf in the same school pattern as the tie which Vanessa wore. This she folded into a triangle and drew across her own face as a mask. Knotting the ends at the back of her head she reached into the back pocket of her jeans and fished out a delicate black eye mask. "Just lie there and enjoy it Vanessa." Sasha settled the mask over her eyes then nodded to Michael who switched on both cameras. Sasha smoothed her hands down over her leather-trouser covered hips and walked slowly around the table, aware that, as best she could, Vanessa was watching her.
"What are you going to do?" Vanessa asked plaintively. Sasha smiled to herself knowing how pleased Michael would be: what a perfect opening line. The less cuts he had to do the better and the smoother the whole film would come together.
"Now Vanessa you've been a very naughty little girl and as Head Girl, it falls to me to punish you." Sasha stood at the side of table, idly stroking loose strands of blonde hair around Vanessa's earlobe. She saw Vanessa glance at Michael, then at one of the cameras and sensing she was about to speak she caught hold of her hair and sharply lifted her head back. Vanessa yelped in alarm.
"It's punishment time baby." Sasha lightly struck her across one cheek with the back of her fingers making her grunt, then more forcefully she slapped her palm against the girl's other cheek. The look of anguish in Vanessa's face was perfect, thought Sasha, releasing her hold on the girl's hair. She walked across to the wardrobe and picking up a tawse, swung around and grinned wickedly at Vanessa who immediately began twisting her arms in an attempt to free herself.
Lifting the girl's skirt clear of her backside and letting it drape over the small of her back, she glanced at Michael who nodded his approval. She brought the leather tawse down hard against the exposed rump. Vanessa let out a cry of pain. She brought the tawse down again, this time harder. "Ugh... No..."
Sasha glanced up to see Michael walking around to the head of the bench, out of camera shot but from where he had a good view of Vanessa's face. She knew he liked to watch their pretty little faces become contorted with pain and humiliation. After half a dozen strokes every girl began to cry or plead. Sasha had seen plenty of little girls put on the bench. It was the initiation to the weeks ahead at Scarra. Most put up a determined struggle to free themselves. It was amusing to watch. Their slim limbs soon glossy with sweat as they twisted and writhed, pulling and struggling against the broad cuffs of leather she and Michael had fastened around their wrists and ankles. Their young faces soon filled with fear, glancing over one shoulder then the other as they realised that there was nothing they could do to control what lay ahead for them.
Sasha brought the tawse down again and Vanessa grunted with the sudden pain. Michael nodded his approval and walked away.
"How are we feeling now, Vanessa? Beginning to regret being such a bad little girl?" Sasha stroked her hand over the girl's rump, feeling her trembling as she traced the red marks the leather had made on her soft flesh.
"You know this is how bad girls get treated don't you?" Sasha let her hand linger on Vanessa's bottom.
"Let me go! I want my Mommy!" Vanessa cried.
Sasha laughed throatily and as one palm gently stroked the bound girl's bottom her other hand reached between the globes of soft flesh. She pushed one finger inside. Vanessa grunted. Sasha rubbed her finger into the folds of warm hairless flesh. They were moist and again Vanessa grunted. Sasha smiled to herself.
"Tell me you know that you're a bad little girl."
"Leave me alone! You are molesting me. You will go to jail!" Vanessa breathed.
Sasha stepped back and again brought the tawse down hard on the exposed rump. Vanessa groaned. Once more Sasha found the girl's vulva and stroked slowly against it with one fingertip. Vanessa sighed, twisting against the leather restraints.
"Tell me you're a bad little girl or this will go on until you won't be able to stop crying."
Vanessa muttered something under her breath. Sasha smiled to herself and hit her again with the tawse. Vanessa gave another anguished groan.
Sasha and Michael exchanged glances. Usually by now the girls were screaming and shouting to be freed, pleading to go home, claiming that this wasn't what they'd wanted. Most, but not all. There were a few like this one. Haughty, arrogant but underneath that veneer they were different. They behaved like this one. Yes, this little blonde beauty with her beautiful tiny breasts, pouting lips and wide innocent eyes was a natural submissive. Michael, had chosen well this time...
Sasha brought the tawse down again hard on Vanessa's rump then she walked slowly around the bench, for the benefit of the camera, looking down disdainfully at her captive. Standing at the head of the table Sasha meshed her fingers into Vanessa's hair.
"How are we feeling now Vanessa?"
"Please... I want my Mommy..."
"Yes?" Sasha lifted Vanessa's head back, her silky blonde hair tousled and damp with sweat, the young girl looked up at her, tears pricking her eyes. "Please... I'm sorry..."
"Of course you are. Now you just have to satisfy the Headmaster and then we can maybe let you return to your dormitory." Sasha glanced up to see Michael, already wearing the black robe, adjusting the black hood that he'd pulled on. She smiled sympathetically at Vanessa who looked up imploringly at her. She was trembling and Sasha could see blood where the girl had bitten down on her lip.
"This is so unnecessary Vanessa, why don't you just admit that you've been a bad little girl?"
"I'm sorry... I've been a bad little girl... please... don't punish me any more." Her voice was choked, plaintive. Perfect, mused Sasha who bent to retrieve one of the belts that dangled unused at the table's edge.
"Well now Vanessa, if you can satisfy the Headmaster, we can let you go. You want to make the Headmaster happy don't you?" Sasha glanced to Michael who now stood at the end of the table directly behind Vanessa's spread legs. Vanessa lifted her head, following Sasha's gaze and she saw the hooded figure motionless behind her, like some black robed member of a dark sect of demon worshippers.
"Please..." she murmured, "I only..."
"Want to please us," said Sasha, softly laughing as she tossed the belt she was holding across Vanessa's back.
She picked up the next belt and flicked it over her, then walked around to the other side where the loose ends now dangled.
"You've been such a bad little girl, you have to be punished properly. You must understand that." Sasha explained apologetically as she slipped the belts through the straps fastened on the other side of the table.
"Now be a brave girl and don't cry or we may have to punish you even more," Sasha warned as she tossed the belts back again across Vanessa's prone body, all the time aware of the two video cameras recording her every move, her every word.
Unhurriedly she fed the first belt together and pulled it tight. The leather came down across Vanessa's back just below her shoulders. Sasha pulled firmly until Vanessa grunted in discomfort then she buckled the belt fast and attended to the other. This one came over Vanessa's rump. Sasha edged the belt a little higher, just clear of the girl's bottom and just below the base of her spine. She pulled the belt tight and fastened it. Vanessa turned her head sideways, gazing at her, her nostrils flared, her eyes wide with fear, looking like some wild creature caught at bay.
Sasha went across to the wardrobe and selected two more leather belts, a tie that matched the one Vanessa was wearing and a gossamer fine silk scarf. She exchanged a questioning glance with Michael, her hand on an expanding butt plug. Michael nodded, making her smile and she picked up the rubber device and a jar of coconut butter.
"Does this feel good?" she teased, feeling Vanessa's legs trembling as she wrapped one of the belts around Vanessa's right thigh and fastened the belt so that Vanessa's leg was now held snugly against one table leg.
"You like feeling helpless like this, don't you baby? You enjoy this, this is why you're a bad little girl isn't it?"
Sasha dealt with Vanessa's left leg in a similar fashion and smiled with satisfaction as she saw how helpless the girl was now, her legs spread and held wide, her arms outstretched and the broad leather belts taut over her back.
Behind her Michael stood patiently, though when Sasha stood up having completed her task she felt his hand settle on her hip then move up her ribs until his fingertips brushed her right breast.
For a second Sasha stood allowing herself to focus on Michael's touch, his fingertips now moving slowly over the lace of her bra until he found her nipple which he gently rubbed with his thumb. However many times they initiated a new child it never failed to arouse both of them and they had to discipline themselves to focus on the job in hand and to wait until later for other pleasures...
Standing now at the head of the bench facing Vanessa, Sasha nodded to Michael signalling that she was ready. She watched him raising the tawse then bring it down hard on the exposed rump. Sasha watched Vanessa's eyes smart with pain.
"Such a bad little girl..."
The tawse came down again and Vanessa whimpered, pulling her arms hopelessly and unable now even to lift herself a fraction from the table. Sasha watched the young girl's face as the tawse struck again. She could sense the camera to the side recording; she knew that it would be focused in close up on Vanessa's face. The other camera on the far side, positioned a little to the rear captured the whole scene: the child strapped down over the table, the man whipping her and herself standing above the victim's head, her face, concealed by the mask, smiling at their subject's discomfort and humiliation.
"Uh... God... no..."
Sasha saw Vanessa twist urgently now against the leather straps, she had reached her point of tolerance. Now her little body was washed with pain, she'd had enough, though she'd lasted a little longer than most. The tawse hit her again and she cried out, shaking her head.
"Stop it... please... I'm sorry... stop..." Vanessa's voice was choked, plaintive. Again the tawse slapped down on her bare skin and Vanessa gave a long, anguished groan. She was panting hard now, perspiration running down her cheeks and neck. The white cotton shirt clung damp about her, her hair was plastered wetly across her pain-racked face and Sasha for a moment allowed herself the pleasure of just watching.
Thighs spread forcefully apart by the belts, sweat shining on her skin, her exposed rump red with from the beating, the blue skirt bunched up over the small of her back which was held down by the broad leather belts, the black leather contrasting so satisfyingly with the white blouse. Slender arms held outstretched, twisting hands jammed against the wristcuffs, what a picture she looked, thought Sasha, smiling with satisfaction.
She and Michael exchanged glances and Sasha felt her pulse quicken when Michael gave her a brief affirmative nod.
"Lift up your head Vanessa, there's a good girl," Sasha coaxed, meshing her fingers into Vanessa's tousled blonde hair then drawing her head firmly back.
"Ugh... please... stop..."
She stood on the left side of Vanessa so that the camera had a clear view as, with her other hand, she began feeding the silk scarf into the girl's mouth.
"No... uhh... stop... ughh..."
"Keep still baby. No don't try to spit it out, you have to let me..."
Vanessa struggled more vigorously but Sasha merely drew her victim's head back further then stood close against her trapping Vanessa's head against her hip.
"Now be a good girl and keep still."
One hand across Vanessa's mouth, with her free hand Sasha dug in the pockets of her leather jeans and pulled out the school tie.
"Nearly finished now..."
Sasha had the tie twice across Vanessa's mouth and was knotting it at her nape.
"There we are now. How does that feel?"
Sasha stood back, watching as Vanessa tried ineffectually to shake herself free of the gag.
Sasha thought to herself how perfect she looked now, the tie tight across her cheeks, her long hair hanging free as she shook her head like some hooked fish, her slim arms twisting and pulling ineffectually against the broad leather that was tight around her slender wrists.
Vanessa lifted her head, straining to look back over her shoulder. The man was caressing her bottom, his hands moving slowly over the swell of her little buttocks. She saw Sasha watching her and looked questioningly at her.
"The Headmaster is now going to fuck you." Sasha answered simply.
Vanessa stared in disbelief over her shoulder as she felt fingers move between her buttocks then slowly draw the mounds of flesh apart. She shook her head.
"Doesn't this little schoolgirl want to make her Headmaster happy?"
Vanessa shook her head as one fingertip moved slowly across the soft slit of her sex, then several fingers were opening her sex, calmly invading her body, peeling the folds of soft pinkness away to expose her for the fingers of his other hand.
"Nnngh... nhh... uhh..."
Several fingers together were insinuating their way into her, forcing her wide, then stroking. Vanessa to her shame felt herself nearing orgasm.
"She's very wet. Obviously been enjoying this too much. I won't add to her pleasure by having her this way just yet."
Vanessa grunted through the gag as the fingers withdrew from her pussy. "Better give me that jar."
Vanessa felt one hand against her rump, then fingers smeared with something greasy were stroking over the crater of her anus. Vanessa grunted as the coconut butter was massaged into her sphincter until it softened and yielded. When a fingertip slid a little way inside her anus Vanessa sighed through the gag.
"She likes that, perhaps we should give her something a little more substantial to enjoy?"
"Every tried one of these, little girl?" asked Sasha.
Vanessa lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder to see Sasha holding a butt plug, a wicked grin on her face as she squeezed the pump and the device expanded. Two more squeezes on the pump which was connected to the plug by a long tube and the plug had changed from a slender little dildo to something thicker than a cucumber. Sasha gave the pump two more squeezes and the butt plug had grown in thickness to the size of a grapefruit. Vanessa gazed up at her, eyes wide with alarm and she shook her head begging Sasha not to, but Sasha, smiling sympathetically, deflated the device, moved to behind Vanessa's spread legs and gave a low taunting laugh.
"Now lie still Vanessa and just enjoy the feeling."
"Hush baby, just enjoy it."
"A little more lubrication I think. Let's try again."
Vanessa felt Sasha's fingers smearing more of the coconut butter into her anus then the rubber tip was pushed again against the child's sphincter this time more firmly.
"Let it all in, there's a good little girl."
Vanessa tried closing her legs but the broad leather belts held her spread as she felt the rubber device being pushed inside her body, her sphincter being forced to widen to accommodate it's thickening girth.
She felt the flared end of the plug enter her, her sphincter muscle closed around the narrow neck and then the broad flat base was pushed firmly against her anus.
"There, how does that feel Vanessa?"
Vanessa glanced up to see Sasha looking down at her a cruel smile playing over her face. In one hand she held the pump and Vanessa looked in alarm at the thin hose that dangled from it and disappeared between her own thighs. Urgently Vanessa squeezed her anus muscles to expel the plug. With all her effort she was able to excrete the flared end of the plug and then the rest easily followed.
"Oh, you naughty little girl, you mustn't do that."
Vanessa wriggled in protest against the leather restraints as with one hand Sasha firmly pushed the butt plug back inside her.
"Now then Vanessa, it's play time."
Before Vanessa could try again to force the plug out, Sasha gave a single squeeze on the pump and Vanessa felt the device inside her expand. This time when she struggled to expel it she failed and she was left, bathed in sweat, exhausted and close to tears.
"Is that feeling good?" Sasha taunted, giving the pump another couple of squeezes.
Vanessa shook her head, it was filling her already and she was certain she couldn't take anymore.
"Come on now Vanessa, just relax..."
Vanessa grunted as a fingertip stroked her vulva.
"So moist. You're enjoying this aren't you?" cooed Sasha as she continued to rub her fingertip against Vanessa's sex.
"Nnnhh... uuhh... uhh..."
Now the butt plug was slowly vibrating and Vanessa knew she was going to come quickly.
"Is that good?"
The vibrations intensified and Vanessa screwing her eyes shut, cried out through the gag as she climaxed. She was still shuddering in the aftermath of her orgasm when Michael walked around the top of the table and lifted her head by her hair.
"She enjoyed that. I think she'd like some more."
Vanessa gazed up at the man, her body awash with the afterglow of her orgasm.
"Shall I continue then Headmaster?"
"Certainly." The man nodded, glancing down at Vanessa, whose head he was still lifting by his hold on her long blonde hair.
The vibrations stopped. Vanessa was gazing dreamily at the man when the plug inside her expanded again.
The man gave a nod and Vanessa felt the device inside her enlarge even more. Now she really couldn't take any more and she jerked her arms and legs against the leather cuffs and straps that held her down in a frantic bid to escape.
The man watched her expression with interest for a few moments then he let go of her hair and walked back to the other end of the table.
"Switch it on again."
The vibrations intensified and for maybe a minute Vanessa lasted until her second orgasm came.
"Enough: leave her like that. It's time."
Vanessa lifted her head weakly as she heard the man speaking. The vibrations stopped. Then she heard the dull metal scrape of his trouser zip. The palms of his hands settled over her rump, easing the mounds of flesh apart.
"The plug will make her feel nice and tight for you Headmaster."
"Keep quiet little girl, it's time for the headmaster to conclude this punishment session."
"Ngh! Nnhh... ugh..."
Vanessa, her vision now blurred by tears, screwed her eyes shut as she felt the tip of his shaft slide down into the canyon of soft flesh her buttocks formed. She shook her head, begging him not to.
Her body tensed as the tip of his shaft slid into her pussy. Because of the plug filling her anus the sensation of his cock inside her pussy was unbearable intense. Vanessa cried out through the gag as she felt herself being stretched to accommodate him. His hands stroked down her flanks and held her by the hips. She couldn't take his cock in her as well... it was too much...
Vanessa felt his shaft forcing its way into her young body until the hilt reached her buttocks and his swollen balls pressed against her soft flesh. The sensation of both her passages being filled was too much and she cried through the gag as she came again. She felt him draw back, her body convulsing at the sensation, then he pushed again, harder.
She grunted through the gag as he forced himself into her again.
"Enjoying it, little girl?"
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