LESSONS IN CHILD MODELLING

BY X-FILE

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?"

"Yes, thanks."

"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.

"Good girl."

"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.

"But what...'

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."

"Uhhh... nnh..."

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..."

"Nnnngh..."

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.

"Ugh....uhh....nghh..."

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.

"Nnhh... nghh..."

"Doesn't this little schoolgirl want to make her Headmaster
happy?"

"Nnhh..."

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."

"Certainly Headmaster."

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."

"Uhhh..."

"Hush baby, just enjoy it."

"Nnnhh!"

"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.

"Nnhh..."

"Let it all in, there's a good little girl."

"Nnhh!"

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.

"Uhh..."

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."

"Nnhh..."

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.

"Nnngh!"

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?"

"Mmmh..."

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.

"Nnghh!"

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."

"Certainly Headmaster."

"Nnnhh..."

The vibrations intensified and for maybe a minute Vanessa lasted
until her second orgasm came.

"Uuhh... uuhh..."

"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."

"Nnhh... uhh..."

"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.

"Nnngh... nnghhh!"

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...

"Nnhh..."

"Hush now."

"Uhh..."

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.

"Nnnhh..."

She grunted through the gag as he forced himself into her again.

"Enjoying it, little girl?"

"Nnhh..."