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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Incarnation of Etta: A Young Mother's Sacrifice
by M. Cowperthwaite (milescopperplate@aol.com)
***
Nobody ever accused Cherie of being a good mother. But
when she and her 11 year old daughter fall into the
hands of a bizarre and sadistic sex cult, Cherie finds
out what it means to have to offer up herself fully to
protect her child. This is her story. (MFFg, ped, dom,
nc, rp, bd, oral, anal, intr, inc?
***
I. Cherie and Cindy
Nobody ever accused Cherie Johansson of being a good
mother, or a particularly nice person for that matter.
But she was beautiful. Even her bitterest detractors
had to give her that. To see her at a distance one
might describe her as small but this is not the right
word. Not quite. At 5'4'' and just over 115 lbs with
exceedingly delicate bones, petite comes closer to the
mark. Doll-like is closer still if one reckons this to
be a word. Her 34C breasts were high and firm with just
the right degree of pout to prompt even younger women
and girls to take notice. Her legs and abdomen were
toned almost to the point of hardness with a hint of
lingering summer tan. Not bad for a single working mom
of 28 years.
Cherie's body was indeed inviting but her face could
stop one cold. It began innocently enough with a bounty
of soft natural blond tresses which when loosed snaked
their way halfway down her back. The hair framed a face
which, like the rest of her body, was devoid of
blemishes or other such imperfections. But her jaw was
maybe a little too strong, her full lips in a seemingly
perpetual frown and her large pale blue eyes did not
hint of mirth.
Life for Cherie up until this point had been a mixed
bag at best. She had hardly known her father whom her
mother regularly derided as a worthless drunk and who
had been shot to death back in Tennessee twenty years
ago by his best drinking buddy during a discussion of
who drank the last beer. Cherie's mother was an
unbalanced and bitter woman who went to psychotic
lengths to keep her only daughter under control. The
one truly formative event in Cherie's life occurred
when she was 13. Mother believed little Cherie had
kissed a boy after school so she wrestled the girl to
the floor and cut off her hair with a handy pair of
scissors. When Monday morning came, Cherie had to show
up at school looking like one of those French women
during WWII who had taken German lovers and then had
fallen into the hands of their liberated countrymen.
What young Cherie needed was an exit strategy and, at
16, she found it in the person of an 18 year old
mechanic's apprentice who in his innocent way
worshipped Cherie as the most beautiful girl he ever
saw. After only the second date he proposed, she
accepted and the two virgins wed at the county
courthouse. That night Cherie consented to have her
clothing removed, albeit in the near total darkness of
their motel room, and lay on the bed waiting for her
new husband to mount her. Cherie was a modern American
teenager and she knew full well what was about to
happen to her. Still, nothing could have prepared her
for the blunt trauma of his swollen phallus as it
clumsily but surely shoved its way through Cherie's
hymen into the very back of her shocked vagina. Cherie
never actually saw her husband's erect penis but she
was certain it had to be enormous. She cried out once
but did not move or make another sound. The hard
thrusts which followed hurt like hell but were
mercifully few in number.
Morning found Cherie in a bed with bloody sheets next
to a sleeping boy she hardly knew. Within a few days
Cherie was gone. She did not bother with the
formalities of divorce, or even saying goodbye. She
just threw her things into the car and left. Some weeks
later Cherie learned she was pregnant. While staying
with an aunt and uncle in New Mexico, Cherie gave birth
to Cindy.
Little Cindy was a delight from the very beginning. The
burbling, fair-haired infant quickly budded into a
bright and sunny little girl. Cindy was curious about
everything and everyone. She relished the attention of
adults and instinctively knew how to get it and hold
it. In appearance she was almost an exact copy of her
mother except that Cindy's features grew softer and
more refined with each passing year and her eyes
radiated warmth where her mother's were cold. Cindy was
always smallish for her age, like her mother, but where
many girls are thin and gawky in the years leading up
to puberty, Cindy's body was always unmistakably
feminine. This was especially true of her legs which
looked as though they could have belonged to an older
girl who happened to be a figure skater.
Cindy's natural charm and good looks did not go
unnoticed by Cherie who saw in her daughter a way to
live out one of her own girlish fantasies, if only
vicariously. Starting at the age of four, Cherie
entered Cindy in every little girl beauty pageant in
the Mid West. Money was always tight but Cherie spared
no expense to see that her daughter wore the cutest
handmade costumes and dresses and that she received the
necessary dance and voice lessons to hone Cindy's
considerable natural talents. For almost seven years
Cindy worked the Little Miss Whatever circuit and
accumulated a raft of trophies taller than her.
Cherie's happy career as stage mom came to an abrupt
end shortly after Cindy's eleventh birthday. While
Cherie sat at her kitchen table one evening making
travel plans for yet another pageant, Cindy
nonchalantly informed her mother that beauty contests
"aren't cool" and that she did not want to do them
anymore. Cherie responded by slapping Cindy hard across
the face.
"You listen here, you ungrateful little bitch. You do
what I say, when I say it. You do it good and you
fucking smile while you're doing it! You got that?"
"This-is-so-unfair-I-hate-you!" screamed Cindy as she
bolted out the backdoor. Cherie watched without undue
concern as the crying girl disappeared around the
corner of the neighbor's house. She then returned to
finalizing her plans.
Cherie won the battle but lost the war. Just a week
after the confrontation in the kitchen, mother and
daughter drove three hours to a large, prestigious
pageant in St. Louis. They hardly exchanged a word. The
contest itself was a disaster. Cindy was
uncharacteristically graceless and self-conscious.
During the talent competition wherein she sang a
precociously suggestive rendition of "Come on a My
House," a song Cindy had performed hundreds of times;
she flubbed the lyrics not once but repeatedly. When
the ordeal was finally over and the smattering of
polite applause subsided, the girl fixed the judge's
table with her baby blues and explained sweetly, "I
forgot the fucking words."
Cherie was mortified. She grabbed the child by the
elbow and quietly but firmly guided her outside to the
back of the convention hall. There she cut a handful of
bare switches from a hedgerow with a Barlow knife she
had for years carried in her purse for just that
purpose. She then proceeded to stripe Cindy's bare
calves and thighs all the while calling her a bitch, a
spoiled brat, an ingrate and a lot of other ugly-
sounding nouns. The tirade did not end once they were
back on the road.
"I have never been so humiliated!" ranted Cherie. "I
should have paid the doctors to suck you out. I should
have sold you to the goddamn Gypsies!" Cherie
punctuated each such statement by pounding her wrists
into the steering wheel or by slapping her palm down
hard upon Cindy's welted thighs. This went on for over
250 miles. When they finally got home Cherie collapsed
exhausted on her bed. Cindy, feeling more free than she
had at any previous time in her young life, sneaked out
of the house to call on the next door neighbors: Tam
and Eddie.
II. Tam and Eddie
Tam and Eddie were what folks in those parts would call
a handsome couple. At 31 years of age, Eddie still
looked like the quarterback he had been in high school
and junior college. He stood 5'10'', and had a full
head of black hair and hard angular features. He moved
with the easy grace of an apex predator in the prime of
life and everyone agreed he had a commanding presence.
Tam was a statuesque woman of 29. Although she was
quite slim in the waist, her hips were wide in the way
the hips of Hollywood starlets were 50 years ago and
her breasts were round and ripe. Light red hair fell
freely across Tam's shoulders and light freckles
dappled the bridge of her nose between hazel eyes.
Petite Cherie on an unconscious level found Tam, who
stood 5'9" and outweighed her by some 40 lbs,
physically intimidating.
No one seemed to know for certain what Tam and Eddie
did for money but they did not seem to be hurting. They
owned a late model sports car and an SUV and, although
their house was small, it was expensively decorated.
Cherie had been in their home many times and had an eye
for such things. Tam and Eddie had no children, at
least not yet as Tam liked to say, and they adored
Cindy. This suited Cherie just fine since her work as a
paralegal and freelance private investigator often
required her to work long, irregular hours and she
regarded the friendly couple as a free babysitting
service. Tam and Eddie often had Cherie and Cindy over
for dinner.
So it was that several weeks after the St. Louis
debacle Cindy informed Cherie that they were invited
over to Tam and Eddie's for dinner and maybe a movie.
Cherie had just gotten in from work and she did not
bother to change out of her black skirt, black high
heeled sandals and thin, white blouse. Cindy still wore
the tiny t-shirt and shorts ensemble she had been
lounging in all afternoon along with an old pair of
white Keds and ankle socks.
Tam met them cordially at the door and ushered mother
and daughter into the front parlor. This was a room in
the house that was well appointed but seldom used on
account of the home entertainment center being located
in the den. As the three of them passed through the
parlor, something caught Cherie's eye. It was a
portrait on the wall she had never noticed before. It
appeared to be a greatly enlarged photograph that had
been retouched to look like a painted portrait.
Cherie was familiar with the technique and had always
considered it a little tacky but this time she was
transfixed. A regal middle aged woman stared back at
her. Her hair was long and dark and her full red lips
turned up ever so slightly at the corners. She wore a
flowing blue gown cinched tight at the waist and a
round pendant of diamonds and sapphires on a thin gold
chain graced her generous décolletage. Her hands rested
possessively upon the shoulders of a prepubescent girl
in a white sun dress. The girl's reddish hair was
braided and her eyes were downcast. But it was the
woman's eyes that made Cherie freeze. Blue, cold and
imperious. They were Cherie's eyes.
"Who is this woman?" asked Cherie.
Tam patted Cindy on the rump and gestured for her to go
on into the den and say hello to Eddie. Cindy bounded
out of the room. "Uncle Eddie!" she squealed. "There's
my baby girl!" came a man's voice in reply. Tam stepped
behind Cherie and placed her hands familiarly upon her
hip and shoulder. Cherie stiffened. She hated to be
touched by anyone.
"That was my Aunt Etta," replied Tam. "She passed away
some twelve years ago. She wasn't really my aunt but
that's what she liked for me to call her. She taught me
so much. I couldn't begin to tell you."
"Is that you?" asked Cherie pointing to the girl in the
picture.
Tam nodded.
"You don't look all that happy."
"I was still too young to understand. I understand
now."
"Understand what?" Cherie wanted to ask but before she
could get the words out Tam was steering her towards
the den. Eddie reclined in an easy chair in front of
the TV. He and Cindy were playing tickle games and the
young girl was wriggling in his lap.
"Hey Eddie, why don't you unhand that child long enough
to fix our adult guest a drink?" Tam then smiled
brightly at Cindy and invited her to come into the
kitchen and help with dinner.
Cherie plopped down on the sofa and exhaled a puff of
air upward through her bangs. Eddie proffered her a gin
and tonic. "Tough day at the office?" he asked
conversationally. Cherie shrugged. Eddie leaned over
and slid a couple of pills across the coffee table.
"What say we get a head on before dinner?"
Cherie trusted Eddie more than most men and she loved
pills when they were free. Before dinner ever made it
to the table, she was out. The last thing she
remembered was the sensation of cool steel manacles
clamping snugly upon her wrists but by then she was too
far gone to have much of an opinion about that.
III. The Cup Maidens
Cherie came to feeling like her brain was wrapped in
gauze. She was lying on a hardwood floor and golden
afternoon sun filtered through strange curtains. Cherie
had a vague recollection of having traveled in the back
of a van or SUV far out into the country. As more of
her senses came back on line, Cherie became better able
to take the measure of her surroundings. She seemed to
be in some sort of anteroom with no furniture, some
closets and antiquated ceiling fixtures.
At one end of the room was a heavy wooden door,
presumably the exit, and at the other end was an arched
doorway closed off only by a curtain of hanging beads.
Over the doorway were the words SHED YOUR INHIBITIONS
PUT ON PERFECT PEACE stenciled in blue. As best as
Cherie could tell, she was alone but her hands were
cuffed around an interior column. Her clothes were
rumpled but still on her body except that her feet were
bare.
The natural reaction of most people in Cherie's
situation would be confusion followed by fear, if not
abject panic. Cherie was just pissed.
"Hey! Hello! Somebody? Anybody? Get me out of here!
NOW!" Cherie rose shakily to her feet and, pounding her
handcuffs against the column, drew in a breath for more
yelling. "Eddie! Goddamnit!"
Cherie heard a rustling in the next room, a murmur of
voices, male and female. Somebody was coming which was
a damn good thing because she was about to verbally rip
somebody's head off. But when the bead curtain parted,
all Cherie could do for the moment was gawk in
embarrassment and disbelief. Tam emerged from the
archway flanked by two women Cherie did not know and
they were all completely naked. To one side of Tam
stood a willowy 5'7" black woman in her late teens with
hair in tight ringlets spiraling thickly about her head
and neck. She had narrow hips, lovely cone-shaped
breasts capped by large dark nipples and there was
something vaguely Asian about her features and skin
tone.
The other woman could not have been much older than 19
either. She stood 4'10" and might have weighed all of
90 lbs. From the look of her nude body she could easily
have been mistaken for a 14 year old or even an
athletic twelve year old boy except that her barely
there breasts were topped by hard, quarter-sized
nipples and the cleft between her legs made no effort
to conceal full, succulent lips. The boy-who-is-not-a-
boy effect was further accentuated by hair dyed to an
unnatural shade of deep red and cut short in the elfin
fashion.
"Ah, our little party girl is awake at last," announced
Tam as she approached. "Introductions are in order.
Girls, this is Cherie and she is our very special
guest. Cherie, allow me to introduce Andronica and Io.
You are in Aunt Etta's house and we are her cup
maidens."
Questions flooded Cherie's mind; such as where was she
and why was she handcuffed to a pole, but the first one
she blurted out was, "Why isn't anyone wearing
clothes?"
Before Tam could answer, the elf-child Tam introduced
as Io took Cherie's still clothed breast in her tiny
hand and squeezed with surprising force causing Cherie
to jump. "Because we are all going to fuck you," she
hissed. The black woman called Andronica just fixed
Cherie with her golden-brown eyes and nodded.
"Because," Tam answered patiently, "clothing is not
permitted in the inner sanctum. The rules will all be
explained and then you will follow them to the letter.
Do you understand?"
Cherie hardly registered Tam's words. Something awful
occurred to her and iced the pit of her stomach. She
was going to be stripped. She was brought here to be
stripped. Once when she was nine a group of
neighborhood children, older boys mostly, enticed her
into the pond where they were swimming and proceeded,
playfully at first, to try to strip the bathing suit
from her body. Little Cherie screamed long and loud
enough to cause them to hesitate and she got away. Now
Cherie sunk to her knees and tried to curl into a
protective ball around the pole to which she was still
cuffed.
"NOOOooooo!!" Cherie shrieked with a volume and force
that almost rent her vocal cords. Surely this could not
be happening. There had to be someone she could bargain
with, reason with. Where the hell was Eddie? Then
another thought tore across her mind like a shard of
hot metal; where is Cindy? What have they done with
Cindy?!
As if on cue the beads parted and Eddie came and stood
over Cherie. He too was naked with his fists resting on
his hips. Cherie looked up to see his fully engorged
nine inch cock and scrotum hovering over her and looked
away, red-faced.
"Eddie, please. What have you done with Cindy?"
"Cindy is fine. We're just keeping an eye on her for
you. Your little beauty queen is going to be our
insurance policy. Do as we say and obey the rules and
no harm will come to her. She'll be safe as kittens.
When our little initiation ceremony is over we will
take both of you home and I can promise you will both
be truly happy for the first time in your lives. Try to
buck and we will make little Cindy the guest of honor.
Then we will make candles out of both of you."
Cherie was a smart woman and her mind was racing now.
"C'mon Ed, we're all friends here. Nothing has happened
that we can't all laugh about over a few beers. I may
want to join your little..." she struggled to find the
right word, "...group, but first let's all go back to
your place. We can talk it over in the den. You and Tam
can tell me all about your beliefs. I got nothing
against religion. But let's keep Cindy out of it, for
now anyway. Okay? "
Cherie's hopes soared. Her words sounded reasonable
enough and she thought they might have found their
mark. She could talk her way out of anything. Eddie
handed a tiny key to Tam who silently removed the
handcuffs and disengaged Cherie from the pole. But
before Cherie could even get to her feet or rub her
aching, swollen wrists, the nude women who called
themselves cup maidens seized her arms and re-cuffed
them behind her back. Eddie placed his large hands on
either side of Cherie's face and gently pulled her up
to her knees.
"The rules are quite simple really," Eddie began with
the air of a schoolmaster. "You will submit to us, all
of us, promptly, completely and without protest. Don't
worry; you don't have to like it. But you will still
remember your manners and always say 'Thank you.' If we
decide to ram electrodes up your twat, you will say
'Thank you for ramming electrodes up my twat.' If we
decide to brand your ass cheek with our sacred symbol,
you will say 'Thank you. It is very fashionable.'
Remember that any resistance, any back talk, any flash
of that trademark temper of yours will be considered a
breach of our little agreement and the consequences
will be immediate and severe.
"Do you understand everything I have told you so far?
Good. We have other rules, protocols really, but you
don't need to concern yourself with those right now.
There is one rule that is the most important rule of
all. Are you listening? Good. If one of the men, and
there are many of us, should see fit to give you the
gift of his seed anywhere in your unworthy body, you
will hold every drop as sacred for that is your purpose
and reason for being. Thus spake Etta." At these words
the cup maidens bowed their heads in supplication.
"Oh and one more thing, just to see if you were really
listening," Eddie continued. "After we cum in you, what
do you say?"
"What? Um...thank you?" answered Cherie in a confused,
quavering voice.
"Thank you what?"
"Thank you for cumming in me."
"See there?" Eddie chortled, "I told everybody you were
smart and nobody believed me. In a few hours you and
your baby girl will be at home snug in your beds. Trust
me."
This is all a sick joke, Cherie told herself. An
elaborate fucked up sick joke. She did not want to
accept that anything truly bad was about to happen.
Part of her was willing to play along with these Etta
people and bide time until the opportunity arose to
grab her kid and get the hell out of there. The other
part which housed that trademark temper howled.
Before Cherie could weigh the wisdom of her words, she
fixed Eddie's eyes with her own cold blue orbs of fury
and spat, "You can do what you want with me but if
anybody harms my daughter I swear to God I will kill
every one of you sick motherfuckers!"
Stupid! Why did she have to go and say that? Cherie
winced waiting for the blow she knew was about to fall.
After a moment or two during which nothing untoward
happened, she cautiously opened one eye and then the
other. This time her eyes begged forgiveness. Eddie
merely gazed down at her, his head cocked slightly to
one side and a smile of mild bemusement on his lips.
"Fair enough," he said.
With an ease that bordered on tenderness, Eddie used
just his fingertips to present Cherie's lips to the
head of his cock. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, her
jaw relaxed, and just that quickly the thing she swore
would never happen happened. A man's penis was in her
mouth.
Eddie was thick but Cherie found she could open her
mouth wide enough to accommodate. She could not help
but notice the smoothness of the head as it pushed
toward the back of her palette and her tongue
registered the veins which bulged underneath. A faintly
musky taste came off his skin and dissolved in her
saliva. Cherie did not want to know where this dick has
been. She felt her stomach getting small but she willed
herself to continue, for Cindy's sake.
She had not given up hope. Not yet. Yes, she was being
forced to suck Eddie's dick but she had not been
otherwise violated and her clothes were still on. He
was the only man she had seen since her abduction and
maybe if she could satisfy him he would let her go. As
for these crazy women who call themselves cup maidens,
they could go back to doing whatever it is they do with
each other. Cherie drew in another deep breath, pressed
her lips and tongue around Eddie's cock to envelop it
snugly, and swallowed as much of the long, fat shaft as
she could without gagging. Then she commenced to moving
her head up and down the shaft to simulate intercourse.
As she did this, she cut her eyes up to look into his
as if to ask, "Am I doing it right?"
Cherie's task might have been somewhat more bearable
had she not had an audience. The cup maidens were
sitting on the floor watching in rapt fascination. Tam
for her part did not seem to approve of the way Cherie
was sucking her husband's cock, "For God's sake Eddie,
make her take it all. Your dick's still half dry."
"For real," Io piped in. "if I had a cock like yours it
would be halfway to her stomach by now."
"I heard that," chimed Andronica.
"Now ladies, let's not be too hard on our guest. This
is her first taste of cock and we don't want to ruin it
for her. We have the rest of her life to teach her how
to go down all the way" As Eddie said this he gripped
the hair on the back of Cherie's head in his hands and
commenced to rhythmically probe the back of her mouth.
"First taste, my ass," proffered Tam, "I bet this
little slut's on her knees every morning sucking all
those lawyers dry for breakfast."
"Make a yummy-sound, ho," commanded Andronica as she
rubbed a hand on her brown belly, "like this, ymmm!"
Everyone was laughing, except Cherie obviously. She was
trying to do her best. She was trying to pleasure Eddie
without accidentally biting or puking. But her task
kept getting more difficult. The penis in her mouth was
growing longer and fatter and more insistent upon
finding the entrance of her throat. Now she was being
mocked by the awful cup maidens. She hated that as much
as she hated having her mouth raped by Eddie. It just
wasn't fair. She was starting to hate those women.
"Hey look everybody! She's crying." Io snuggled in
close at Cherie's side. It was true. Cherie's eyes were
shut tight but a steady stream was flowing down each
side of her face. Io leaned in closer and opened her
mouth. Cherie felt sopping heat on her cheek and then
the rake of Io's tongue piercing as she lapped up the
entire tear stream and smacked her lips in Cherie's
ear.
The sight of this was too much for Eddie. He shoved his
cock faster and deeper into Cherie's throat. She was on
the verge of panic. She could not breathe. And then
Eddie's dick swelled to a volume Cherie had not thought
possible and commenced to pulse in her throat.
"Suck it all down, little cherry!" rasped Eddie as a
bitter viscous brine flooded the back of her mouth. She
commanded her stomach to accept the strange liquid she
was frantically trying to swallow. Still it kept coming
as Eddie's grip on her hair tightened and his penis
continued to throb angrily in her mouth.
At long last Eddie's orgasm subsided and he visibly
slumped in the shoulders. Tam, Io and Andronica each
had a hand nestled between their legs. For once they
were silent, even reverent. Eddie's cock was beginning
to slump too and he slowly withdrew it from Cherie's
mouth. As the head exited, it secreted a snail trail of
semen across her lower lip. Eddie's eyes fixed upon
Cherie's. He quizzed her, "What is the most important
rule?" Their eyes remained locked as her small pink
tongue obediently came out to gather the residue from
her lip and disappeared back into her mouth.
"Now say it," he commanded.
"Thank you for letting me drink your cum." To Cherie
those words tasted as nasty as his rancid seed.
"It's best when it's fresh, ain't it?" whispered
Andronica in her ear but Cherie was not listening to
her. She wasn't listening to anyone. All she could
think of was that she had done what she had to do and
now she ought to be allowed to leave. She did not care
about anything or anyone else. Cindy was probably at
home waiting for her. She likely had been there all
along. All Cherie wanted was to go home, throw up in
the shower and burn Tam and Eddie's house to the
ground, more or less in that order. But the Children of
Etta had other plans.
"Stand her up," commanded Eddie.
Grabbing an arm, Andronica and Tam pulled Cherie
roughly to her feet. Eddie placed one powerful hand
around Cherie's throat. The other hand plunged beneath
the waist of her skirt and panties. Cherie yelped at
the sudden unexpected invasion of her person. Eddie had
his fingers buried in her pubic bush and he balled them
into a tight fist. He could have lifted her off her
feet by her pubes. His grip was that firm. Instead, he
gave her pelvis a good shake. "Ladies, you know the
rules. I want this chicken plucked!"
"Roger that!" chirped little Io.
Eddie disappeared through the beads. The cup maidens
fell upon Cherie, tearing and ripping at her clothing.
Within seconds her skirt and slip were just rags on the
floor. They would not risk removing her handcuffs to
take off her blouse and bra. Instead they cut them off
her body using her own Barlow knife. As her bra fell
away in halves, all three women stopped to admire
Cherie's perfect breasts. They hardly needed any
support at all for they stood high and proud on her
chest. In the center of each was a small red nipple
that puckered demurely in the cool air.
"Nice," commented Io appreciatively.
"Damn." Andronica moistened her full, sensuous lips.
They had stripped Cherie down to her last article of
clothing. She was wearing a no-nonsense pair of blue
cotton panties. When they were gone there would be
nothing left to protect her. Through her sobs she
pleaded with the women, "Please don't do this. Please!"
They paid her no mind. Tam fell to her knees before
Cherie. "I've waited a long time for this," she said,
her voice thick. Cherie felt long fingernails dig into
her flesh as Tam took hold of the elastic waistband and
rolled the panties slowly off her hips and thighs all
the way to her ankles. She then ordered Cherie to step
out of the rolled up undergarment. Cherie continued to
sob softly but she did as she was told.
"There she is, girls," Tam said with a flourish to her
cohorts. "I give you Cherie Johansson's pussy."
As with most everyone, modesty was a reflex for Cherie.
Her knees clamped together defensively and her ankles
turned out slightly leaving her standing pigeon-toed
and blushing with shame. Her chin was at her sternum
and hair dampened by tears partially hid her face.
"We've fucked around out here long enough," Io decided.
"Let's get her into the chamber."
Cherie was not the least bit curious about what lay on
the other side of that beaded curtain. In her mind
those cheap hippie beads marked the boundary beyond
which there could be no return, the very edge of the
world. Every instinct in every fiber of her being
warned her not to cross that line and blind animal
panic took hold. She screamed. She begged. She tried to
roll up in a ball on the floor. None of that mattered.
Her hands were bound securely behind her back, and
besides, any one of her tormentors, even tiny Io, was
more than a match for her physically right now. Then
Tam offered up the inducement that would brook no
delay.
"C'mon C.J.," Tam said good-naturedly, "let's go see
Cindy," and she gestured to some unseen point beyond
the curtain. This had the desired effect. Cherie
continued to sob and beg incoherently but her body gave
up the struggle. Still, her legs refused to bear her
weight and Tam and Andronica practically had to drag
her into the inner sanctum.
IV. Ties that Bind
The beads parted and the room Cherie found herself in
was spacious, perhaps 20' x 40', and dark. The air was
cool and smelled faintly of cigarettes, sandalwood and
sex. There were no windows and the walls were paneled
in ancient redwood and thick redwood rafters eight feet
over head held up the roof. This inner sanctum might
have made a fine mead hall in medieval times but there
were no roaring fires, no furniture whatsoever unless
one counted the few overstuffed pillows strewn about
the floor, and there was thick beige carpeting in lieu
of straw.
The walls were bare save for one life-sized, nude
portrait (an actual painting) of Etta, her arms
extended palms up in the classic come-unto-me-little-
children pose. A tiny alter cluttered with candles and
dried flowers stood at the portrait's base. In the wall
at the far end of the room was another arched and bead-
curtained entrance identical to the one through which
she had just passed.
Cherie's eyes scanned the dark expanse of the chamber
frantically. She saw no one. More to the point, she did
not see Cindy. A feeling of relief washed over her.
They were bluffing! They don't have her! It was just as
she suspected. But then the scanning eyes stopped to
take in the room's central feature.
A single 100 watt bulb hung from a conical light
fixture in the center of the room. It threw a circle of
light upon the floor that was twelve feet in diameter.
Within that circle was a blue vinyl mat much like one
might expect to see in any gymnasium. The mat was only
four inches thick and approximately five feet long and
two feet wide.
A steel hook was imbedded in the floor about three feet
beyond the long end of the mat and two steel rings were
set in the floor four feet apart at the center of the
mat's length. Lengths of thin rope of the kind used to
tie off boats lay in three small piles near at hand to
the rings along with what looked like pieces of scrap
lumber. To the side of the mat were two concrete blocks
beneath a three inch hook set deep into one of the
redwood beams.
It was to the circle of light that Tam and Andronica
pulled naked Cherie while Io capered about them like a
mad pixie. Cherie was thrust onto the mat and pushed
back painfully upon her bounded arms. While she blinked
under the bright light, Andronica went to work on her
leg. Andronica took one of the lengths of rope and
handed it to Tam. With the other she fashioned a small
loop at one end which she slipped around Cherie's foot
and pulled roughly up her leg to just above the knee.
Tam did the same with the other leg.
Next they took the third length of rope, which was
shorter than the others, and fashioned a loop around
each foot with only about six inches of slack between
the loops. Then the women threaded the longer leg ropes
through the rings in the floor and, using the rings for
pulleys, each began tugging with all her strength.
"Make a wish!" joked Tam as Cherie's knees began to
part. Cherie screamed for them to stop and fought to
keep her legs together. In truth, she probably had
sufficient strength in her thighs and buttocks to win
that contest but for the pain of the thin rope biting
into the soft flesh behind her knees. As she moaned in
resignation, her legs yielded to the ropes until they
were spread a full 180 degrees. Cherie felt as exposed
and helpless as a frog awaiting dissection. With
nautical efficiency Tam and Andronica secured the leg
ropes to the rings without making so much as a
millimeter of slack.
Tam walked to the foot of the mat to admire her
handiwork and to take her first good long look at the
delicate pink folds of Cherie's vaginal lips.
"How are we doing down there, girlie girl?" Tam asked
in mock solicitude. "If you could see yourself the way
I'm seeing you....God, I would give anything to have a
dick the size of my arm right now!"
Cherie said nothing but instead turned her head and
wept softly. Tam tapped a finger on her chin and
affected a pensive expression. "I can't shake the
feeling that we forgot something. Girls, help me out."
Io and Andronica just shrugged. "Oh, now I remember.
Andronica, Io, sit her up."
Tam came around the mat and produced the cuff key she
had tucked behind her ear. Without ceremony, the cuffs
were again removed only to be clamped back on, only
this time her arms were extended over her head with the
point of the hook in the floor threaded unto the cuff's
center link. Tam inspected all the bindings and found
them to be tight, tight, tight. Looking over at
Andronica and Io, Tam gave the order for them to "go
round up the equipment. Me and Miss Johansson are going
to have us a little chat, woman to woman."
Tam sat down on her knees at Cherie's side. "Are you
comfy? Did we get those ropes tight enough for you?"
Cherie lolled her head from side to side. "My legs
hurt," was all she could say. She really did not want
to talk to Tam right then. Tam ran her hands along the
insides of Cherie's thighs, gently kneading the taut
muscles with her fingers.
"Does that feel better?"
Cherie did not answer.
"You don't feel like talking? That's okay because I
really need for you to listen right now. What I have to
say concerns you, and it concerns Cindy." For emphasis
Tam cupped Cherie's breast and looked into her eyes to
be sure she had Cherie's attention.
"Those eyes. You and Cindy are lucky to have those
eyes. They are so like Etta's eyes. Everything I know
and everything I am I owe to her. I owe my very life to
Etta. When she found me I wasn't as old as your
daughter and I was living on the street. I had just run
away from my fourth foster home. Etta came to me. She
called me by name. She said she had seen me in a vision
and knew we would meet. Can you imagine what that must
have been like for me?
One minute I'm behind a bakery looking for stale donuts
in the dumpster. The next I'm looking into the eyes of
the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and she is
telling me she had seen me in a dream. Me! That's a
pretty heavy trip to lay on a starving ten year old.
She told me I was to come with her and she would make
me her cup maiden."
Io and Andronica returned with a cardboard box of the
sort used to store file folders and sat down on the
carpet next to Tam and Cherie.
Tam continued. "Of course, I had no idea what that
meant, 'cup maiden'."
"What does it mean?" Cherie decided that it would be to
her advantage to keep Tam talking. And besides, she was
a little bit curious in spite of herself.
"A cup maiden is special." Tam's eyes sparkled as she
warmed to the topic. "You see, Etta knew what no
prophet or holy man in history ever figured out or
dared tell anyone. There lies a path open only to women
whereby we might experience a vision of the Divine and
become transfigured. We do not need to worship a god or
submit to some doctrine created by men. We need only
partake of the essence of the male from the womb of the
cup maiden."
Cherie forgot her pain and terror for the moment while
her mind struggled to parse out the precise, practical
meaning of that last statement. Tam forged on, taking
no heed of her captive's consternation.
"The tricky part is finding a cup maiden. We are the
rarest of human creatures. Etta only had to lay eyes on
a woman or girl to know with absolute certainty that,
yes, here was a cup maiden. She said she could see a
halo of dancing blue and white lights emanating from
down here." Tam placed her hand on Cherie's lower belly
just inches above her bush. This was a gift only Etta
had. Until she came to the world no one had any idea,
not even the cup maidens themselves. I certainly
didn't. Etta used to see some dried up old woman near
death who still possessed a faint glow about her frail
hips and be moved to tears by the thought of what might
have been."
"But this was not my fate. Oh, at first I was, how
shall I put this, reluctant. I had only been living in
Etta's house for a month but I felt strength and joy
flowing back into my body. I had already put on ten
badly needed pounds and I felt secure for the first
time in my kid life. I had finally found a mommy I
could trust and love. Then one night Etta roused me
from the bed we shared. She told me to remove my t-
shirt and panties.
I wanted only to please Aunt Etta, and besides, she was
naked too; so I did. She led me here to the ascension
chamber and had me lie down on this very mat. She told
me she was about to give me something that would make
me the happiest little girl in the world. I loved and
trusted her so much I willingly spread-eagled myself so
she could tie me up."
"Then, as Etta looked on, a 200 lb grown man crawled
out of the shadows and mounted me. He busted my little
cherry wide open and fucked me hard just like Etta told
him to while I screamed. Etta used to say she loved
best the flavor of naked male lust and aggression
spiced by the nectar of a new maiden's sacrificed
innocence. It made for the sweetest honey, she said.
And she always insisted a cup be thoroughly pounded
before she would drink from her."
"The man on top of me grunted and shuddered and then
pulled out only to be replaced by another man and then
another until my kid pussy overflowed with their juices
commingled with my own. Etta nestled down on her knees
and elbows in the wide space between my legs. She
scooped both her hands beneath my bottom and lifted my
tiny, battered cooch to her mouth."
"What happened next was, in its way, more frightful
than the brutal raping I had just received. Her eyes
practically rolled back into her forehead and her teeth
ground hard into my softest parts. Etta was a woman
possessed and she growled like a she-lion while she
sucked and sucked my pussy. Then I felt her tongue
probing deep inside my pelvis and something dawned on
me. She had just imbibed the essences of three strong
men from my little cup and now she just wanted to savor
me, Tammy.
Through me Aunt Etta had ascended to yet a higher plane
and, in her ecstasy, she sank her divine teeth into my
flesh here," Tam opened her knees wide to reveal the
livid scar of teeth marks on the inside of her right
thigh just inches from her now sopping wet vulva, "and
here," running her fingertips over a similar lividity
above her left breast, "thus marking me for all time as
her favorite."
Andronica and Io looked sullen but said nothing.
"I gotta level with you, C.J.," she went on, "After
that night I was scared shitless of Aunt Etta and
didn't much care for having to play cup maiden to her
and her 'daughters.' You saw the portrait in my house.
Not a happy kid, right? I was shut up in this house for
two years being home schooled in the secrets of the
Church of Etta and the finer points of being the
perfect little fuck-slave. Then Aunt Etta made it up to
me."
"She walked into my room late one night, since we no
longer shared a bed, and she was naked. I rubbed the
sleep out of my eyes and followed her into the chamber.
I had long since ceased to wear clothes around the
house so there was no need for me to strip. I
obediently laid down on the mat and spread my legs wide
at the knees.
"While I did this I could not help looking around the
room so as to get an idea of how many men I was going
to have to fuck before I could go back to bed. I saw
only some huge black guy smoking in the corner and, I
swear to God, he had the biggest unit I ever saw. It
was like one of those cop flashlights, the kind that
takes four D cells. Now I'm not thinking about sleep
anymore. I'm thinking maybe this is the night tiny
Tam's vessel gets shattered for keeps."
"So I'm lying here starting to cry (so don't feel like
you're the first, Cherie) when Etta comes over and
lifts me to my feet saying, 'no baby, he is not for
you.' Etta then takes my place on the mat and tells me
to bind her arms and legs up tight. Now I'm confused
but I did what she said."
"Then while I'm sitting here on the floor next to her,
the guy comes over and sinks that huge dick into her
all the way up to his balls. All I can do is gawk as he
proceeds to tear her up with that big thing. And all
the while Etta's just gasping and moaning. It seemed to
me she was in agony. This must have gone on for 20
minutes before the guy bucked hard into Etta's thighs
about a half dozen times and collapsed on top of her. I
had been a cup maiden long enough to know what had just
happened. The man pulled out, waved goodbye and left."
"Etta lay there panting and glistening with sweat,
juices oozing from between her pussy lips. She fixed
those eyes on me and said, 'quick child, drink from my
cup.' This was unheard of. Nobody drank from Etta.
Nobody fucked Etta. Now she was offering herself to me.
Let me tell you I didn't have to be asked twice. I lay
down on my belly and took a long lick from her asshole
to her clit. The effect was like atomic pop rocks going
off in my brain. I ground my nose and mouth into her
sacred snatch and practically tried to crawl tongue-
first into her womb. All the while Etta is just
straining against the ropes binding her limbs and
repeating over and over 'drink from me, child, drink
from me'."
"And so at the age of twelve I got my first glimpse of
what I was truly meant to be. I wasn't going to grow up
to be a mere woman, to just be somebody's wife and
mother, and have some bullshit job in an office or
factory. Not this chick. I had taken my first step on
the path to becoming a goddess. This is what it means
to be a cup maiden of Etta. In the Church of Etta, we
love our men but they are just drones we milk for their
essence.
"It is we who are the heart and the soul. No one
ascends to the higher reality except that they suck the
pussy of a cup maiden. Nothing in an ordinary life
could ever compare to the look of absolute devotion and
gratitude I get from a woman I have just allowed to
drink from my cup. I never cum so hard as when I drink
from one of my sisters unless it is when one of my
sisters drinks from me. This is what binds us all
together."
Cherie listened as attentively as she could but this
was getting to be too much. She had had no idea. She
began to weep softly again but these were not tears of
dread or frustration. These were tears of remorse. She
had to be the worst mother ever. Cindy had trusted her
mommy implicitly and Cherie's self-centeredness had
driven her into the hands of cunt-sucking Tam and Eddie
the mouth raper with whom Cherie had blithely left her
child for hours and days at a time. She had had no
idea. Cherie knew she could never forgive herself, come
what may. And while these thoughts churned in her
tortured brain, the voice of Tam continued to buzz and
rattle over her.
"There are many of us in discrete sects scattered all
around the country, the world even. The people you have
met and will meet tonight are just a small welcoming
committee of sorts, handpicked for the Rite of
Ascension of the Incarnation of Etta. You really don't
know how lucky you are. You see, we have a little
problem. Without Aunt Etta, we have no way of bringing
new cup maidens into the fold, so to speak. I drank
from Etta yet I could walk past a potential brand-
spanking new cup maiden on the street or playground and
have no idea just as she herself would have no idea.
Only Etta's eyes could 'see' them."
"But before she left us, Etta confided to me that she
would return incarnate in the body of another. That she
would ascend and lead us again. And that I would know.
When I learned who had rented the house next door and I
saw those eyes, I knew!"
V. Floor Show
Here at last was an angle that might just set Cherie
free. Tam had these people believing that Cherie
somehow had the spirit of this Etta person living
inside of her. All Cherie had to do was disabuse them
of this notion, to convince them that someone (Tam) had
made a terrible mistake and that this was all just a
misunderstanding.
"Is that what this is all about?" Cherie made her voice
sound incredulous. "You think I'm Etta? You got the
wrong woman. I can't see shit!" Her voice became more
strident. "I am not Etta! This is crazy. Let me go!"
Andronica told her to shush up. While Tam talked,
Andronica and Io had been busy. They had removed
various implements from the box and set up a work
station of sorts by Cherie's side. Tam again focused
her attention upon Cherie's body splayed out beneath
her and commenced to rub Cherie's pubic fur between her
fingers.
"Maybe you have noticed we girls are as bare as the day
we were born." Io and Andronica spread their thighs and
lifted their arms in the air revealing sleek, hairless
bodies. Tam put her thumbs and forefingers together to
form the shape of a heart over her bare pubic mound;
her forefingers coming together beneath the hood of her
clit. "See? Not a feather on us."
Cherie had in fact noticed the complete absence of
pubic hair on the bodies of the cup maidens but had not
given the matter much thought. She had had other things
on her mind. Even now she still could not comprehend
what any of this had to do with her. Cherie's bush was
a feature of her intimate geography to which she had
never given much thought.
It was naturally quite small consisting as it did of a
single swirl of reddish blond hair almost but not quite
as light and fine as the hair on her scalp. It had
never occurred to Cherie to shave or trim it. What
would have been the point? Then she felt something hot,
or at least very warm, along its fringes. Andronica was
using a wooden tongue depressor to trowel a hot goo
onto her bush which she then covered with a cloth strip
three inches long and almost an inch wide. "You know
the drill, sugar: wax on, wax off."
Before Cherie could register the full import of her
words, Andronica gripped the cloth strip with her thumb
and forefinger and ripped it from the side of Cherie's
mound. A hot spark of pain shot through her torso and
she jerked against her restraints but she clenched her
teeth and refused to cry out or make a sound. She was
not going to give them the satisfaction. Io was
delighted by this spectacle and eagerly came around to
the other side to share in the fun.
Together, Andronica and Io applied the wax strips to
Cherie's body and then violently tore them away taking
patches of her pubic fur with each one. Growing
impatient, little Io would apply a cloth strip to the
hot wax and, bringing her face down close to Cherie's
pussy, blow gently to make the wax cool and harden
faster.
As the cup maidens' progress brought them closer to the
sparse hairs lining her outer labia and the cleft above
the clitoral hood, the pain grew more intense until
Cherie screamed through gritted teeth. The women were
visibly aroused by her suffering and they devised ways
to draw it out as the very last follicles were ripped
free. Satisfaction was something Cherie was giving them
plenty of.
While the cup maidens were gleefully playing with their
new toy, first Eddie and then three other naked men
entered the chamber and sat cross-legged on the carpet
to watch the proceedings, their cocks stiffening. This
was what being in a creepy sex cult was all about. They
were proud of their girls.
Cherie at first did not notice that she and the cup
maidens had an audience of males. She was a little
preoccupied. Tam squeezed some lotion into her hand and
began rubbing it liberally onto Cherie's denuded pubic
area. As she did this, she let her long fingernails
slide between the folds of Cherie's inner labia. The
sensation made Cherie shudder with dread. All this time
she was just being prepped for the moment of her
ultimate violation and that moment was surely at hand.
What else could they now possibly do to her?
Tam took hold of Cherie's chin so that she could look
directly into her eyes. "We gave you a Hollywood wax
job for free. We just saved you a hundred bucks. What
do you say?"
"Thank you," was Cherie's meek response.
"Thank you for what?" Tam demanded.
"Thank you for waxing me."
"Now Cherie, some gentlemen have come to call on you.
Won't you say hello to them?"
"Hello."
Cherie's voice was tiny and her face and throat were
flushed deep red. The eyes of the men, and the women
too, were like tongues lapping up her nakedness and she
did not even have her swirl of pubic hair to shield her
innermost private parts from their gaze. Never had she
dreamed she could feel so utterly helpless and exposed.
Why would not someone intervene and help her? Where was
the humanity, or was that quality not to be found in
the Temple of Etta? She began again to plead to be
released but something in their eyes made her come up
short. Further begging would not help her cause at all.
Nothing, she knew, would delight Etta's Children more
than to hear her pleas for mercy while these male
beasts took turns fucking her. Cherie fought against
her restraints but the effort only leached away her
strength and will to resist. Resignation and a dull
physical ache were settling deeply into her muscles and
bones and she felt herself begin to drift. Then Tam's
voice brought Cherie back into the moment.
Tam stood up and addressed Eddie and the three other
men who sat in an arc just outside the spotlight.
"Not everyone is here yet but let's go ahead and get
started. I would like to welcome you fine men to this
very important ceremony. Each one of you was picked
especially for this occasion by Andronica, Io and
myself because we love you very, very much."
The men all blushed and grinned slyly at each other.
Tam wanted them to feel privileged and they did. Few
pleasures in this life could compare to intercourse
with a cup maiden. And now for the Rite of Ascension
(except for Eddie, none of the men really knew what
this meant, but no matter), this lovely little blond
morsel was pinned to the floor in front of them. She
was still crying and struggling which is to say she was
still fresh. Everyone, or almost everyone, was in for a
fine evening indeed.
Tam continued. "Now allow me to formally introduce our
very special guest, Miss Cherie Johansson. First, for
your pleasure, we four ladies are going to put on a
little floor show. After that, you will all have a
chance to get better acquainted with Miss Johansson.
Then the Rite of Ascension can begin!"
As Tam spoke, Andronica positioned her lithe dark body
between Cherie's legs and in one fluid motion lay down
on top of her. Her body felt hot to Cherie who had
never permitted another person to press so closely
against her flesh except for the night Cindy was
conceived. Cherie was no Lesbian, certainly not, and
she had never liked black people particularly. Now she
found herself in some twisted "floor show" as the
plaything of Andronica, a young woman in whose strange
brown eyes Cherie saw only cruelty and disdain. Still,
having another female writhing on top of her was far
preferable to what the men would surely do to her and
Cherie allowed herself to relax and recoup a little.
Andronica felt some of the tension go out of Cherie's
body and would have none of it so she upped the ante.
Cherie's eyes opened wide with alarm when she felt
Andronica's long, pink tongue enter her ear and lap
wetly into the back of her aural canal. She as much
felt as heard a low purr emanate from deep inside
Andronica's throat as she proceeded to slide her tongue
slowly across Cherie's cheeks, eyelids, nose and lips.
Propping her weight upon one elbow, Andronica brought
her free hand down across Cherie's forehead and pinched
her nose between thumb and forefinger. When the need to
breathe compelled her to open up a little, Andronica
pounced and thrust her tongue deeply into Cherie's
mouth. Cherie realized she had little choice but to
allow herself to be kissed in this manner and was even
beginning to kiss Andronica back. What else could she
do?
But it was not Andronica's intention to make out with
Cherie like horny teenagers in a church parking lot.
No, she had something she wanted to tell her. Panting
softly, Andronica placed her lips against Cherie's ear
and in a low, husky voice said, "I got a surprise for
you, sugar. I'm a squirter. Do you know what that
means?" Cherie did not know but said nothing. "Your
mouth still tastes like Eddie but your pussy's gonna
taste like me."
The black girl lifted herself off Cherie and, spreading
her knees wide, lay on her back in the opposite
direction so that her vagina and Cherie's eyed each
other from a distance of just twelve inches. Io removed
a small length of tubing from the box and handed it to
Tam. The tube was of a clear polymer material some
sixteen inches long and ¾ inch in diameter.
Tam took one end of the tubing and jammed a full four
inches of it into Cherie's vagina. The sudden intrusion
caused her to squeal with discomfort which amused the
onlookers greatly. Andronica used one hand to hold the
other end at just the right spot by her own vaginal
entrance as Tam commenced to rubbing Andronica's
swollen clit in a slow circular motion.
Rarely had Andronica been so aroused. She was going to
bust a nut inside this stuck up white bitch. Cherie,
for her part, could not grasp the point of this latest
outrage against her person unless it was to deepen her
already considerable humiliation. All she could do was
loll her head from side to side and plead to no one in
particular, "Why won't someone help me?"
Within minutes Andronica was closing in on a
splintering orgasm. While Tam expertly ramped up her
ministrations, the black maiden gyrated her narrow hips
in counterpoint to maximize the friction to her
clitoris. Knowing precisely how to stimulate each other
was one of the joys of cup maidenhood and Tam loved
taking her sisters to the heights of sexual pleasure as
much as they loved doing the same for her. Andronica
was at the summit now. Her jaw went slack as every
muscle in her legs and abdomen tightened to a steely
coil. In a strange, thick voice she called out to Etta.
She called out to Tam and to Io who was watching
intently at Tam's side, "Watch me soak this bitch!"
With Io's help, Andronica pressed her end of the tube
tightly against the entrance of her vaginal canal even
as a series of guttural rasps, more animal than human,
welled up from the bottom of her throat and convulsed
her entire body. Her coil was sprung at last and
released thereby a hot blast of pure female ejaculate
with a force no man or boy could ever hope to equal.
Despite the presence of the opening of the tube at the
point of eruption, the sudden spurts of clear liquid
could not be constrained to flow docilely into such a
narrow aperture and droplets of Andronica's juices
spattered Tam and Io. Cherie too felt the hot rain down
the front of her body from her chin to the insides of
her thighs. This first gush was followed by another and
another until the volume and pressure abated to a thin
stream that trickled down Andronica's crotch and
puddled the mat between her and Cherie.
If truth be told, the idea of using a length of hose so
that one woman could cum almost directly into another
had not worked as well as the cup maidens had hoped.
Very little of the essential liquid found its way from
Andronica's end of the tube to Cherie's. No matter.
Andronica pulled herself up and, still roiling from the
aftershocks of her climax, inserted her end of the tube
into her mouth and blew its entire contents deep into
Cherie's cunt.
Cherie had the sickening sensation of being inflated
"down there" followed by a feeling she found even more
strange and revolting. Her soft inner membranes had
just been lubricated by the vaginal secretions of
another woman. This could not be happening. She began
to sob softly anew.
"Cherie, what do you have to say to my girl Andronica?"
queried Tam.
"Thank you for...that." She honestly did not know what
else to say.
Io, who could never sit still for very long, had been
watching these proceedings with mounting anticipation.
Andronica lifted her backside off the mat by her hands
and feet and backed crab-wise to the margins of the
spotlight. It was now at last Io's turn to take center
stage with Cherie. She stood over her with a foot on
either side of Cherie's shoulders and peered down into
her face with a smile that could best be described as
predatory. Io wanted to afford Cherie an opportunity to
take a good look at her fine, fat pussy. But she also
wanted proud Cherie to know that she, little Io, was
about to take her down to a whole new level of
subjugation.
"Guess what," said Io. "I can squirt too." With that,
Io hopped into the air and kicked out her legs. Like a
gymnast on a balance beam, Io came down with her legs
split wide. Before Cherie could even flinch, Io landed
cunt-first squarely onto Cherie's face with a wet,
meaty slap and commenced to grinding her pelvis up and
down upon Cherie's nose and lips. Cherie tried to cry
out her surprise and disgust at what the tiniest cup
maiden was doing to her but the sound was muffled. Io
did not so much hear as feel Cherie's screams and the
heat and vibration of them against her swollen pussy
sent her into a face fucking frenzy.
She snaked her fingers into Cherie's soft blond hair
and held her head firmly in place as she pumped and
slathered her juices liberally about Cherie's nose,
lips and chin. Io's clit, of which she was especially
proud, was now a ripe protuberance fully the length and
width of her little finger and Io concentrated on
placing it hard upon the center of Cherie's mouth so
that her every breath sent little Io closer to a mind
blowing and very wet orgasm.
Cherie felt she was being suffocated by Io's tangy
feminine bouquet filling her throat and nostrils. But
Io was not ready to cum just yet. She wanted to toy
with her prey first. With her head bent low to watch,
the cup maiden lifted her crotch off of Cherie's face.
Cherie seized this chance to inhale a deep draught of
fresh air. When she did, Io sprung the trap and
adroitly inserted her clit to where it would be sucked
full into Cherie's mouth. Cherie tried to dislodge the
invading organ with her tongue but Io's clit was
insistent and it was slippery. The feeling for Io was
everything she hoped it would be.
"That's it," she cooed with malevolent pleasure. "Fuck
me with your tongue, you tight little cunt! Eddie got
to feel your tongue. Andronica got to feel your tongue.
Now your face belongs to me. I'm going to spew my honey
down your throat!"
Enough was enough. Eddie's foul semen still roiled in
her stomach. She was on display, tied up and butt
naked. Her pubic hair had been ripped from her body and
some black chick's pussy juice was leaking down her
taint. And now this demonic little maiden's genitals
were being stuffed into her mouth while people watched
and laughed. Laughed! Cherie wondered what she had ever
done to deserve any of this. Deep inside of her, fear
soured into self-pity which festered into blind,
uncaring rage. The heat of it rushed up her spine and
spiked white hot into the top of her skull. Enough was
enough. The time had come at last for this bitch to
show her teeth.
Io must have sensed something had changed. Her pliant
human toy had suddenly gone rigid causing Io to remove
herself from Cherie's mouth, none too soon. At
precisely that moment Cherie's jaw snapped shut. Her
teeth grazed the tip of Io's clit as they clicked
together. She lunged again but bit nothing but air. Io
was already on her feet hopping around the room. Her
eyes blazed with triumph, as if she had just won some
sort of bet.
"Did you see that? Did you see that?" little Io's
energy was manic, frightful. "Bitch tried to bite me!
Everybody saw it, right? We told her the rules, didn't
we Eddie? We had a deal. Now get that little skank in
here. I mean right now!"
Eddie stood up and pointed to Cherie. "Tam, Andronica,
untie her and get her on her feet. Io honey, we are
going to need for you to calm down a little, okay?" but
she ignored him as she continued her mad dance around
the circle of light. With a nod from Tam, Eddie exited
through the archway at the far end of the chamber.
Cherie was loosed from her bonds, except for the
manacles on her wrists, and stood uncertainly on her
feet as one of the men gripped each elbow. She did not
know what was about to happen and did not care much.
Nothing the Children of Etta might do could possibly be
any worse than what she had already endured. At least
now she was beginning to regain circulation in her
lower legs and feet. But whatever feeling of victory or
relief Cherie was experiencing at that moment vanished.
Standing in the far archway was Eddie with a child in
his arms. As he stepped forward she saw with horror and
remorse that the child he carried was her own little
beauty queen.
VI. Discipline
Cherie was crestfallen. Eddie had not been bluffing.
They had had her all along. Eddie placed little Cindy
upon the very mat her mother had lain not two minutes
earlier. It was still warm. Cindy was naked except for
white footies, the kind with the pink puffballs on the
ankles, and white cotton panties Cherie had picked out
for her. Cindy looked wide-eyed about the ascension
chamber, more curious than fearful, and she meekly
submitted to having her legs spread and bound by the
cup maidens but kept her arms folded defensively in
front of her nascent breasts. Tam squat down and said
something low and soft to the girl and she yielded up
her wrists to be held fast just as her mother's had
been.
Cherie called out and tried to run to the girl but she
too was held fast. Cindy gave her a puzzled look. "Mom,
where are we and who are all these people?"
Cherie struggled for some semblance of composure. She
had to be strong for her little girl. "Don't worry
about a thing, baby. Uncle Eddie and Aunt Tam and their
friends just want to talk to me. No one is going to
hurt you. Mommy won't let them."
Eddie cocked an eyebrow. "Really."
He nodded to the man called Brian. Brian, who appeared
to be in his early twenties, was younger than the other
men. At 5'8" he was compact with a thick waist and
broad shoulders. He had dirty blond hair and a clean,
wholesome face except that his teeth were as wide and
white as bathroom tiles. The effect of this was that
even Brian's friendliest smile appeared unsettling and
sinister to the beholder.
In fairness to the young man, it was something that
could not be helped. Neither could he help the
unsettling effect his fully erect penis could have upon
small women, or spread-eagled little girls for that
matter. At a mere eight inches he was not quite as long
as Eddie but he surpassed him in width by at least a
half of an inch at the base with a bulbous flared head
that would make him feel even wider to a recipient and
harder to expel.
Brian stepped into the space between Cindy's
outstretched thighs and settled to his knees. He
allowed himself to loom over the helpless girl so she
could see up close the massive thing he was about to
drive into her body. Cindy still did not understand.
The panties Cindy was wearing had a tiny red, white and
green rosebud stitched into the center of the thin
elastic waistband. The man leaned down and, resting his
broad forehead upon Cindy's stomach, gripped the
rosebud in his teeth and tore it free. The violence of
this assault upon the girl's panties caused the elastic
to snap. Brian tore at the thin cotton fabric below the
broken waistband like a kid on Christmas morning.
Before Cindy could offer any protest, what remained of
her panties was torn from her hips. The harsh spotlight
seemed to focus on the region just beneath her bare,
tiny mound and all the congregants leaned in for a
better view. The child's pussy winked out at them as
opalescent and delectably vulnerable as a mussel on the
end of a fork. Still the child said nothing even as the
man designated to be her first rapist gave her a wide,
hungry grin and stroked his cock. She merely peered up
at him quizzically.
Cherie's heart was breaking. Because of her actions her
daughter was but seconds away from being mortally
violated. She had to do something, but what? It was
this moment that Eddie chose to offer his counsel.
"Personally, I would take no great pleasure in raping a
child but I'm afraid some of the others here don't have
my scruples."
"Please don't let them hurt her, Eddie! You love Cindy.
You can stop this." Cherie struggled to control
herself. She was almost hysterical. "Please just let us
go, Eddie."
"We will let one of you go," answered Tam from the
floor where she still held the girl's wrists. Tam was a
little peeved. She was the High Cup Maiden and she
would be damned if she was going to be excluded from
the conversation. "We love little Cindy more than you
ever did and want to keep her here with us. All you
have to do is say the word and you can waltz your tight
ass right out of here. We promise to take good care of
her. Hell, before you leave we'll even let you pick out
which dick gets to fuck her first, you know, for
openers."
Eddie took over. "If you choose for us to set Cindy
loose, you will have to stay and accept discipline from
us. Then the ascension ceremony will commence. But
you're a strong woman. I think you'll survive."
"Then will you let me go?"
"You don't get it, do you?" interjected Tam. "Once you
say the word and your daughter goes free, your ass
belongs to Etta, to us. We'll never let you go. Now
choose."
Except for Io smacking her gum, the chamber was silent.
What Cherie wanted was to start blasting away with a
9mm in each hand, or to scoop up her daughter and
together disappear and re-materialize some place else,
or just to wake up from this very bad dream. But these
options were not on the table. In the long silence
Brian took the massive head of his penis and pressed it
hard against the inner lips of Cindy's vulva.
Cindy broke the silence. "I'm scared, mommy! Please
don't let them hurt me, mommy!" she pleaded in a high
small voice.
Cherie could delay no further. She knew what she had to
do. "Let her go. You can have me."
"Well, well. You're a good mother after all," sneered
Eddie. "Who knew? Alright everybody, you heard the
lady. Cut the kid loose."
Young Brian was crushed. Just like that, the tightest
pussy of his life had been snatched away from him. And
he had come so close too. The bonds were duly removed
from Cindy's legs and she stood and turned to leave.
"Remember that momma loves you," Cherie called out.
"Now get away from here. Run!"
But she did not run. With more dignity than one might
expect from an unclothed eleven year old girl who had
just narrowly escaped a most harrowing sexual assault,
Cindy walked out of that chamber of horrors with her
head high and eyes straight ahead and disappeared
behind the beaded curtain of the far entrance. All eyes
then turned to Cherie.
"Okay boys," commanded Tam. "Let's put her on the
hook."
Cherie was lifted by her wrists until she was hanging
by her handcuffs from the hook screwed into the ceiling
beam. Her feet lacked at least four inches from
touching the floor and the pain in her wrists and
shoulders from being suspended in this manner very
quickly became unbearable. Almost by reflex, Cherie
kicked out her legs until her feet found the blocks set
beneath the hook. She counted it a blessing to have
something on which to stand.
However, from Cherie's perspective, there were three
things wrong with these blocks. First, they lacked a
couple of inches of being tall enough. Thus, Cherie was
forced to stand on the balls of her feet. Second, the
blocks were situated not directly beneath the hook but
several inches back so that, in order to stay on this
perch, Cherie had to make her spine curve. This, she
knew, put her bare, heart-shaped bottom prominently on
display to anyone who walked behind her. Finally, the
blocks were set a full two feet apart.
Chained to the hook, Cherie looked down to see Etta's
Children gathered on the floor in front of her in a
semi-circle not three feet away. During those horrible
moments when she was forced to choose this fate, Cherie
had not noticed four more men—two white, two black, all
naked—had entered the chamber. She noticed now and she
felt their eyes and the eyes of all the others on her
body. She considered how she must look to them.
Just as the placement of the accursed blocks forced her
to spread her legs and stick out her butt, so too did
they cause her to bend slightly forward at the waist
and thrust her breasts practically into the upturned
faces of her tormentors. The insides of her thighs were
wet and glistening with horrible Andronica's cum and
she still could not draw a breath without tasting Io's
pussy on her face.
The picture she now presented was in many ways even
more revealing and humiliating than when she was
splayed out on the floor and the thought made her blush
scarlet down the front of her body. She was grateful
she did not have to look at her reflection in a mirror.
Cherie drew some small measure of strength and solace
too from the knowledge that while she held everyone's
rapt attention, her daughter was effecting her escape
and would no doubt lead the authorities back to this
very room.
Io stood over Tam with her hands on her narrow, boyish
hips. "Can I get started, or what?" she asked with more
than a little impatience.
"Yes, Io. Her ass is yours. Enjoy."
Whatever feelings of hope and relief Cherie may have
been nurturing in her breast were quickly forgotten to
be replaced by a heart-chilling fear. She was about to
receive discipline from Io. One might expect Cherie to
be inwardly grateful for this. After all, Io was by far
the most diminutive of the assembled Children of Etta.
This is a fact from which Cherie took no comfort. She
had already been made intimately acquainted with the
wiry strength contained within that 4'10", 90 lb frame.
But it was something more than just Io's physical
strength that frightened her so. All of these people
were disgusting pervert rapists who deserved to fry for
what they had done to her, and God knows who all else.
But none of them was in the same league as the girl
they called Little Io. She was the one true psychopath
of the group. And not 15 minutes ago Cherie had tried
to give her a clitorectomy.
Io produced a metallic object from the box and
displayed it to Cherie like merchandise on the home
shopping channel. The thing she held before her
consisted of two tiny electrical clamps affixed to
opposite ends of a thick silver chain with links the
size of dimes.
"These are tittie clamps. Guess where they go."
Panic seized Cherie; her breasts shuddered. "Io, I'm
sorry," she stammered. "Please don't...ooww! God!!
Ooww!!"
Io had come up from underneath and attached a clamp to
the reluctant tip of one of Cherie's nipples and then
the other. The clamps had strong jaws and needle sharp
steel teeth that bit deep into the tender, sensitive
flesh. Pain shot through her breasts and up and down
the whole front of her body. What is more, the pain did
not fade but instead grew more persistent. While she
moaned and cried, the woman hanging from the hook tried
to shake her torso in an effort to dislodge the
merciless little teeth but, with the weight of the
connecting chain swinging between them, her exertion
only magnified her discomfort.
The cruelest cup maiden then tugged on the chain to get
her attention. "You need to save your voice. I want you
to meet a friend," she said as she held in front of
Cherie's face a stock of wood and leather about a foot
long from one end of which sprouted four thongs some
three feet in length. The thongs were of soft leather
cut in one inch wide strips. It was apparent that here
was an instrument of instruction designed less to bite
than to sting. "This is the conductor, Lawrence Welt.
He is going to make you sing, bitch!" hissed Io as she
rubbed the butt of the stock up and down the center
line of Cherie's body beneath her navel.
The sight of the flail in Io's hand and the black fire
in her eyes made Cherie forget for the moment the
gnawing pain in her breasts and she threw her head from
side to side. "No! God help me. No!"
"Sssh!" Little Io placed one forefinger against
Cherie's lips and, leaning in as close to her ear as
she could, whispered, "Don't you worry about a thing.
You're a lucky little fuck doll. I'm going to give it
to you just the way I like to get it."
Cherie was not mollified.
Io padded slowly around to Cherie's rear. Cherie tried
franticly to keep an eye on her but, alas, she could
only turn her head so far. Io was now squarely behind
her and out of sight. What happened next dismayed and
confused Cherie into silence. She heard Io make a soft
blowing sound and she felt a tendril of air slide
across her exposed and protruding buttocks, then in
between over her wet anus, perineum and vulva. The next
thing she felt was the brush of Io's lips as they
planted a kiss on the base of her spine and whispered
the incongruous words, "I love you."
Then, as quickly as Io could turn and take two steps
back, she brought the leather flails down with terrific
force upon the precise spot where her lips had been.
Cherie let out a yowl and leapt from her perch. She
swung from the hook as her feet churned ineffectually
in air. The Children were beside themselves. The sight
of the woman swinging and screaming while Io used her
bare ass for target practice was just too damn funny
and they were literally rolling in the floor with
laughter. By the time Cherie's feet had regained the
blocks, Io had landed at least a half dozen blows to
each buttock.
With Cherie back on her perch, she and Io settled into
a rhythm. Io took aim and brought the whip down upon
Cherie's body once every three seconds with metronomic
precision. And with every loud clap of leather upon
flesh, Cherie cried out in anguish. Her back felt like
a bubbling mass from her arm pits and shoulder blades
to the base of her calves. Tufts of blond hair became
entangled in the thongs and fell to the floor.
The red welts had risen on the front of her body too as
the flails curled around Cherie's rib cage or waist to
sting the sides of her breasts and belly. Sometimes,
just to keep her prey "on her toes", Io would employ an
underhand stroke like a softball pitch to bring the
leather thongs up across Cherie's labia and clit before
snapping against her enflamed mound. Then Io would jerk
the whip back across that same narrow crevasse. This
stroke, which Cherie thought to be especially cruel,
always dislodged her from the blocks as she tried to
pull in one leg in a vain and, to the onlookers,
amusing attempt to shield her most private and tender
parts from further outrage.
Somewhere in Cherie's mind she knew she must surely
either die on this hook or go insane. The insistent
gnaw of the nipple clamps and never ending strokes of
the lash made Cherie feel like she was dipped in a
boiling pot of pain. Io had been right about one thing.
Cherie could be made to sing. But her song of agony had
trailed off to a thin, high shriek as her remaining
strength ebbed away.
Then, in spite of everything, Cherie noted something
odd. Through her fog of suffering she could have swore
she heard an echo of her cries each time the whip came
down. No. There was no echo in the room that could
account for what she heard. As her own yelps became
weaker, someone else's grew louder and deeper. They
were coming from behind, from Io. The tidy three second
interval was abandoned as the blows fell faster and
faster upon Cherie's reddened buttocks and thighs. She
could cry no more but instead let her body go limp and
waited for life or consciousness to depart from her.
But as abruptly as the blows had started, they stopped.
While Cherie hung there waiting for them to resume, she
heard a thick bestial huh, huh, huhh sound coming from
somewhere below and behind her. She was able to turn
her head enough to see that the flail had fallen to the
carpet and so had Io. She was on all fours except that
one hand was buried in her crotch.
"Fuck me! Why won't somebody fuck me?" Io's face had
gone as red as her short, dyed hair and was streaked
with sweat. "Tam, make one of them fuck me. I'm in heat
bad."
Tam turned to Eddie who nodded to one of the three men
who had entered the room with him. Martin was his name
and he appeared to be in his mid-forties but he looked
like he spent a lot of time in a gym or health club for
his body was lean, hard and tanned. He still had a
thick head of jet black hair except for small silver
wings combed back above his ears and his face bespoke
intelligence, if not kindness. He was as naked as
everyone else except for the Rolex watch on his wrist
and his fully erect penis, which was of more or less
average proportions, was uncut.
Martin crawled over to little Io who rolled onto her
back and spread her legs wide for him. Her face, which
moments before had been a contorted mask of carnality,
now had by some strange alchemy recast itself into a
visage of innocence and child-like gratitude. As the
older man leaned in to mount her, Io took his cock and
guided it into the tumescent folds of her vagina. Then
she enfolded her legs around his hips and gasped, "Oh,
daddy. I've been so bad. Fuck me, daddy! Fuck your
little girl."
Cherie was glad the beating had stopped. Maybe now the
others would take her down off this hook and remove the
clamps biting into her nipples. Surely the worst of her
ordeal was over. She slumped her head forward and a
surfeit of unruly soft hair obscured her face. Without
having to be prompted, she said in a hoarse whisper,
"Thank you for correcting me. I'm sorry I tried to bite
you, Io. I won't do it again." But Io was otherwise
occupied and paid her no mind.
Eddie whispered something into the ear of the man
called Brian who gave him a big, toothy grin and stood
up. This was the man who had almost violated Cindy and
Cherie felt a new dread for what his participation
might now entail for her.
Brian casually stepped over Martin and Io lasciviously
rutting on the carpet and made his way behind Cherie to
the box from where he produced a spray bottled filled
with a light greenish-gold liquid. He began spraying a
cool, soothing mist upon Cherie's welted and throbbing
backside. Her nose recognized the scent. It was olive
oil. She wondered distractedly if this was meant as
some sort of anointing. He then thrust the spray nozzle
hard against her anus and pumped twice.
"Whoa!" Cherie's head shot up and she reflexively
sprang forward off the blocks. But as she swung back,
Brian caught her by the hips and held her fast. Cherie
could feel his engorged member nestled between the
sorely mistreated twin lobes of her ass and she was
powerless to dislodge it. Brian bent slightly at the
knees until the head of his cock, as broad and firm as
an apple, pressed menacingly against her tiny anal rim.
It was impossible, Cherie knew, for something that
large to penetrate so small an orifice.
But Cherie's notions of what was possible were about to
be rudely redefined. She groped in her mind for some
stratagem that might save her. She had to connect with
her rapist on a human level, make him see her as a
person and bargain with him. It had to work. It was a
matter of life and death.
"Please don't take me from behind, Brian." Cherie
struggled to modulate her voice to strike just the
right note of sweet feminine reason. "It will hurt both
of us. I liked that you sprayed oil on me. That felt
good, Brian. I want you to know I think you're really a
nice guy. If you put me on the floor you can make love
to my mouth. Would you like that, Brian? I would. I
would like that a lot."
"Slut," jeered the young man as he thrust his pelvis
violently upward, all of his penetrative power
concentrated upon her tiny anal cherry. It was no
contest. Cherie felt the horrible rending and tearing
of her delicate sphincter muscle. The massive head bore
up with authority into her anal canal. The pain of it
was the worst she had ever experienced. Not even the
pangs of childbirth could compare. Cherie could feel
herself being sundered and split to pieces as she was
impaled by her own weight upon the head and shaft of
her rapist's cock.
Cherie's head was thrown back and her mouth open. There
issued from the bottom of her throat a raw shriek of
agony and abasement. Still, inch by terrible inch,
Brian's prick disappeared into Cherie and she could
feel every bulging vein and ripple of the thing as it
penetrated high into her rectum. Her anal muscles
involuntarily contracted causing her tender inner
lining to invaginate the intruder.
"Ohh, Jesus! Pull out! Pull out! You're killing me, you
son of a bitch!"
"That's it, cunt! Keep it up. I love it when you
holler. It feels good on my dick!" Brian began to pump
and thrust his cock higher into the recesses of
Cherie's bowels. Each thrust was so forceful it made
her hair flounce and the wind was punched from her
lungs. Hah. Hah. Hah. With one hand he clutched her
breast while the other bore into her delta. His middle
finger crushed her nether lips and clit against her
pubic bone.
The young man placed his lips against Cherie's ear and
hissed, "You love this, don't you, you little whore!
Only whores take it in the ass. You can't wait to feel
me cum, can you? Whore."
A curious thing happened. A fragment of Cherie's
consciousness wandered outside of herself to consider
these words. Could they be true? Was she a whore?
Cherie had been frigid all of her adult life. She never
gave much thought as to why this should be. It was just
who she was. Now she found herself stripped naked and
hanging from a hook while she got fucked up the ass by
a stranger for the amusement of other strangers. And
there was not a goddamn thing she could do about it. A
whore at least had some control. She had the freedom to
choose to participate in her degradation. No, Cherie
was not a whore. Her station was even lower. She was
meat. Meat being devoured by wolves.
Cherie's moment of clarity dissolved in the thickening
of her anguish. She could feel her rapist's penis begin
to swell inside of her as his strokes came faster and
deeper. The sensation of being stuffed to the point of
bursting was sickening. With a remorseless tightening
of his grip upon her tit and pussy, Brian commenced to
grunting into Cherie's ear as his cock spasmed and
spewed deep in her gut.
With his penis still cradled high up in her colon,
Cherry heard Brian's voice behind her ask, "Is there
something you want to say to me, slut?"
Cherie's head slumped to one side. The wind was knocked
out of her and she could hardly speak at all.
"Thank you," she gasped, "for almost killing me."
"Wrong answer, wiseass!" countered Brian as his fist
found the silver chain between Cherie's breasts and
twisted it cruelly.
"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry. Thank you
for...for...sodomizing me."
"That's more like it, Cherie." Brian seemed appeased
and he unhanded the chain. Cherie was again left
hanging as he uncoupled himself from her backside.
Everyone gave him a standing ovation.
Everyone, that is, except Martin and Io. They lay on
the carpet panting and sweaty. Io had insisted they
change position so that she was on top. She wanted to
watch Brian skewer Cherie's ass while she feverishly
milked the semen from her drone. They climaxed together
just as Brian came inside Cherie.
Tam turned to face the congregants. "The time has come
to prepare for the Ascension," she informed everyone.
"Eddie, get her down."
VII. Ascension
Eddie lifted Cherie by her wrists until her cuffs were
free of the hook. He tried to set her down on her feet
but she was too weak to stand so he poured her onto the
mat. Tam and Andronica removed the clamps Io had placed
upon the tips of Cherie's nipples and they massaged
them gingerly to restore circulation. Then they slipped
the loops back onto Cherie's legs at the knees but not
at the ankles. And this time they made a point of being
a little gentler as they went about it. Cherie wanted
to protest but could offer no meaningful resistance.
First Io and then Brian had done their work well. There
was no fight left in her.
Andronica excused herself so she could go over to Io
and drink from her. Tam secured Cherie's manacles to
the hook in the floor. "This will all be over soon,"
she assured her. "You're doing great."
Cherie found herself back on the mat in the same
obscene position as before. Her mind refused to ponder
what horrors may yet lay in store for her. Her
attention was focused instead on what was happening on
the floor not ten feet away. Andronica was upright on
her knees. The backs of little Io's thighs rested upon
the black girl's shoulders.
In this elevated position only Io's shoulders touched
the carpet. Io's fingers caressed Andronica's scalp
through her tight curls while Andronica placed one hand
on the small of Io's back and the other on her belly,
sandwich fashion. Her head rotated from side to side as
she lapped and sucked from Io's young moist cup with
audible relish.
Cherie could not help but be oddly moved by the tender
intimacy of the scene unfolding in the margins of one
cup maiden drinking from another. But what most seized
and held Cherie's heart, even through the storm of her
own dread and suffering, was the look of bliss that had
suffused Io's face. Pealed away was the mask of some
terrifying undiagnosed psychosis. Gone also was the
coquettish little girl façade she put on for the drone
Martin. Io's face had been transfigured. She had put on
perfect peace.
Cherie's reverie was cut short by the person of Jeff.
Jeff was the other of the three men who had entered the
chamber with Eddie. He was a tall, reedy man in his
early thirties with long, stringy brown hair and a thin
beard to match. As he knelt before Cherie, the feature
that most filled her with new apprehension was his
cock. It was a full 14" long and was as straight and
narrow as the handle on a bathroom plunger. Surely he
did not expect to put something like that inside of
her.
He did. With one hand he rubbed the head of his cock
against Cherie's clit just so she would know what he
was about to do to her. Then he guided it down between
the delicate innermost petals of her pussy until he was
knocking upon the very Gates of Venus. Cherie flinched
and gnashed her teeth as the tall man pressed forward
with his hips and pried her open. But Cherie would not
yield up her treasure so easily. Her vaginal muscles
were fresh and strong and they contracted to bar the
way. Jeff shoved hard and grunted with the effort but
he only succeeded in getting most of the head inside
her.
It was a contest Cherie was in no position to win. One
push followed another and with each push a little bit
more of his cock lodged itself in the natural moistness
of her vaginal well. Cherie's "girl", as she was
sometimes wont to refer to her sex organ, was none too
eager to juice up for Jeff's dick. Andronica's input
made this irrelevant, however. The intruder withdrew
until just the tip remained inside her. When it did so,
it brought some of the precious female essence with it
and slathered it liberally about the vaginal entrance.
Thus lubricated, Jeff leaned in for another firm,
steady, inexorable push.
Cherie's poor "girl" did not realize the game was up
and that she had been overcome. The muscles tightened
and gripped the invader in a vain effort to halt its
inward progress and prevent the plunder of her womb.
The effect of all this exertion was to drain away
whatever strength Cherie had left while pleasuring her
rapist.
"She's fighting my dick," Jeff reported to the other
men. "It feels so good." The men, and women too,
grinned and nodded with approval, their eyes and teeth
glinting in the shadows.
"Oh God no! NOOOooo! Aayeeeiii!" Cherie arched her
spine and strained against her bonds. She could feel
every inch of Jeff's long penis as it probed ever
deeper into the upper reaches of her pussy. Her vaginal
canal tried to elongate itself in order to accommodate
the intruder but it was no use. She was just too
petite. Much to Jeff's obvious gratification, his cock
found Cherie's cervix, penetrated it and thrust high
into the back of her uterus.
He was buried in Cherie up to the hilt now and pounding
with mounting fervor. Cherie was in unspeakable agony
as the cock head battered against her diaphragm and
sent cramps like shock waves through out her abdomen.
In her mind's eye she saw herself as the captive and
pregnant plaything of the Children of Etta and wailed
her despair even as her long, lanky rapist pumped his
seed directly into her womb.
"Say it," he commanded.
"Thank you for cumming in me."
The man called Jeff pulled out of her. Eddie took one
of the pieces of lumber, a 10"x 8"x 2" board, and
shoved it beneath Cherie's backside. The board was
unfinished and rough on her sore bottom. The men
gathered around Cherie in a tight circle and were all
standing on their knees nervously stroking their
erections while each awaited his turn to rape her.
Pinned to the floor, all Cherie could see in any
direction was cocks and balls, hairy abs and thighs.
The smell of testosterone and proglastin closed in on
her. The sound of their breathing was drowned out only
by her pointless sobs and the frantic beating of her
heart.
For all of Cherie's adult life, preserving the sexual
sanctity of her body had been an overriding priority.
This was no longer an issue. Obviously. The name of the
game now was simple survival. All Cherie could think
about was that she did not want to be fucked to death
on this mat in this room. When would help arrive? Where
were the police? Where was her daughter? She had to
find some fragment of hope to cling to. When Cherie
cast her eyes down the center of her body to the man
who loomed up in the wide space between her
outstretched thighs, hope eluded her grasp. She was
about to make the acquaintance of the man they called
L.T.
L.T. was one of the black men who showed up late to
Cherie's little coming out party. He had a broad,
middle-aged face and bald head set on a thick neck and
shoulders. He was a full foot taller than Cherie and
weighed at least twice as much as she did. His cock was
every bit as thick as Brian's and a full three inches
longer.
Addressing the other men, L.T. said, "I hate it for the
rest of you boys but I'm about to tear this little
pussy up."
"Please don't hurt me," Cherie whimpered.
The big man gazed down upon the helpless young woman
and smiled. His dark eyes seemed to drink in her
nakedness. "Hurt you? Little lady, I'm about to give
you something you'll remember for the rest of your
life. I fucked Etta good back in the day. Now I'm gonna
fuck you."
With that he inserted the aubergine head of his cock
into the mouth and neck of Cherie's vagina and pressed
his powerful loins into her. Cherie was too hoarse to
scream but she screamed anyway. She figured darkness
and pain were about to wash over her one last time and
then this would all be over. These animals could go
right on fucking her until her body hit room
temperature. It would make no difference to her
anymore. Her spirit would be somewhere else and she did
not care where.
But Cherie did not die, or even pass out. L.T. wanted
her to know she was being fucked. He did not want to
kill her. The big man lay down on his forearms with
Cherie pinioned beneath him so that the only parts of
her visible from above were her bound wrists, calves
and feet. With a slow, rhythmic pumping motion, L.T.
discretely introduced his formidable manhood to the
satiny back wall of Cherie's bruised and battered
vagina. All the while he spoke soothingly to her
telling her he was not really going to hurt her and
everything would be okay. He told her it was okay for
her to love him and that he would take her to some safe
place far away where she would be his cherished woman.
No one could have been more surprised by Cherie's
response to these sweet nothings than Cherie herself.
Since the moment she woke up to this nightmare, she had
received from the people who called themselves Etta's
Children nothing but hatred, sadistic cruelty and
unspeakable perversion. She desperately wanted someone,
anyone to just be nice to her.
Any act of simple human kindness, no matter how small
or perfunctory, would be taken wholly to heart. Cherie
responded to L.T.'s words by willing herself to open up
and receive him, all of him. The muscles around her
vagina and uterus relaxed and the vagina itself
elongated and lubricated bountifully. Yes, she was
going to be this nice man's woman and he would free her
from her bonds and carry her away from this awful
place. As he ever so gently worked more and more of his
great cock up the neck of Cherie's pussy, her cervix
yielded for him.
L.T. knew exactly what he was doing. He told Cherie he
loved her; that he would be her deliverer and salvation
and all she need do is ask. While he mouthed these
words into Cherie's ear, he sank the rest of his cock
into her all the way to his balls and let it stay there
without moving. Cherie had never felt so mastered by
anyone. It was as if she had been molded body and soul
around this man's organ and her body could not so much
as draw a breath without first getting the permission
of the big dick lodged in the center of her. She knew
her dark lover could feel her every breath and
heartbeat and it pleasured him. Cherie arched her back
and moaned with something like fulfillment.
"Cum in me, darling," murmured Cherie plaintively.
"Fill me up and take me away from here."
This was the kind of response L.T. had been hoping for.
He had never been content to just rape a woman's body.
Now he could begin fucking Cherie in earnest. He
withdrew the entire shaft of his cock from Cherie's
pussy. She looked at him questioningly. L.T. raised up
on his massive arms and flashed Cherie an ivory grin as
he plunged into the back of her cunt with all his
strength. Seismic tremors of pain roiled through her
body and she wailed with shock and the sharp sense of
having been betrayed.
The tremors piled up one on top of the other as L.T.
fucked her without mercy for what seemed like forever.
Cherie's womb was being ransacked and she was sure she
could feel the tissues of her reproductive organs
perforating under the assault. The big man roared as he
began filling Cherie's raw, wounded pussy with copious
jets of essence.
With his swollen cock still pumping out the last sticky
ribbons of semen, L.T. pulled out and, leaning forward,
placed the head against Cherie's lips. "Don't forget
the first rule," he growled.
Cherie enclosed the cock head in her mouth and sucked
as hard as she was able while L.T. pistoned the long
shaft in his fist. Cherie saw and tasted only a small
amount of her blood on the man's organ. With one last
powerful leap, his cock plastered her palate. She
swallowed as she let her head fall back on the mat and
thanked him. She was learning how to be a good little
fuck doll.
Another board was shoved under her and a new drone
commenced to reaming out her pussy. And then another.
Cherie was coming to realize that getting raped was
hard work. She was bone tired. The women seemed willing
to go a little easier on her after her ordeal on the
hook. The men had no such compunction. It was as though
there was some unspoken competition between them of who
could pound her the hardest.
Who could fuck her the deepest was not at issue. L.T.
and Jeff had already split that prize. Cherie fixed her
eyes upon some vague spot beyond the ceiling beams as
each man in his turn strained and raged on top of her.
She barely had the strength or presence of mind to
express her gratitude to each of her rapists.
"Thank you for cumming in me."
Profound physical discomfort ripened into screaming
pain as the planks began to stack high beneath her.
Only her shoulders remained on the mat as her pelvis
was elevated ever higher. The thin ropes cut deep into
her flesh at the knees and she felt as though her legs
would be torn from her body. Then the thought occurred
to her that this was not intended as simply some cruel
enhancement of a cruel ritual. They meant to fill her
up. But to what end?
Another thought had been floating near the back of her
mind like a rudderless ship adrift in fog. Now in her
extremity, this vessel at last found its port. Had not
Tam told Cherie her ass belongs to Etta? Her ass
belongs to Etta. These words bobbed in and out of
Cherie's consciousness all the while she was being
beaten, sodomized and raped repeatedly. Her ass belongs
to Etta. But wait. Cherie was Etta, or at least Etta's
incarnation, was she not? From some yet unviolated
place deep inside of her, Cherie willed up perhaps her
last reserve of strength. She wanted to address her
tormentors. This chick had something to say.
"This is how you treat the Incarnation of Etta? No
wonder your guru died. You people killed her!"
Everyone froze and an uncomfortable silence fell over
the room. A man who was about to enter Cherie turned to
Eddie in confusion. Cherie herself was impressed at the
change her words had wrought. She was so impressed, in
fact, that she did not hear the rustle of beads at the
far end of the room. Andronica and Io noticed first and
heralded the others. Soon a murmur electric in its
effect passed through the chamber.
"Ascension!" each of the congregants was heard to say
in excited whispers. They formed up in a double line
kneeling before the one who had entered. Cherie
strained to see the cause of all this sudden activity
but could only make out a tiny figure standing poised
in shadow.
Cherie's heart sank in dismay even before her mind
could acknowledge what her eyes now clearly saw. The
newcomer to the rite who now drew the adoration of cup
maidens and drones alike was but a child. And not just
any child. It was her own little Cindy.
This time Cindy was completely naked except that she
wore a round diamond and sapphire pendant on a thin
chain around her neck and her abundant blond hair was
piled high on her head above a woven tiara of blue
bells and baby's breath. She walked slowly on the balls
of her feet towards the center of the chamber stopping
to touch the neck and face of each of her supplicants.
Cindy stepped into the circle of light and coolly
surveyed the panting wreckage of her mother. Then the
girl turned to Eddie who was seated nearest her and
said, "We did good, didn't we, Uncle Eddie?"
"We sure did, baby girl."
"I want to give you your reward, right here and now."
Cindy placed her hands upon Eddie's chest and pushed
him lightly onto his back. She then straddled Eddie's
chest and stomach on all fours with her back to him.
They were so close to Cherie she could have reached out
and touched them had her wrists not been bound. Eddie
salivated at the sight of Cindy's delicate little girl
snatch mere inches from his mouth. The child looked
back at him and, smiling sweetly, lowered her tiny cunt
onto Eddie's lips so that he could give it a nice long
tongue kiss.
Cindy sighed with evident pleasure and made tight
circles on Eddie's mouth with her pelvis for a full
minute; then she wrapped her fingers around the base of
the man's thick nine inch penis and leaned forward. The
child turned with the same sweet smile to her helpless,
ravaged mother and cooed sardonically, "I'm scared,
mommy. Please don't let them hurt me, mommy."
With that, the little girl turned and, with a forward
thrust, gobbled up a full six inches of Eddie's cock.
She sucked hard molding her lips and tongue around it
and pulled up slowly so that three inches of Eddie's
shaft eased wetly into view. Cindy took a deep breath
through her nose and the sides of her mouth before
leaning forward again, all the way this time, and
buried her little nose into the top of his scrotum.
Eddie took hold of her ass cheeks and sank first one
forefinger then the other into Cindy's pussy. Then he
let his middle fingers penetrate her tiny exposed anus.
With the purchase this gave him, Eddie pushed the girl
forward and down upon his cock while he pumped his
loins to meet each thrust.
Cherie's spirit sank and died as she watched this lewd
tableau. As jarring as it was to witness her eleven
year old daughter being throat fucked by a grown man,
the same man who had earlier raped her own throat, the
thing that really left her undone was the dawning
realization that her little girl had conspired and
actively participated in the sexual sacrifice of her
own mother, body and soul, to the cult of Etta. Indeed,
Cherie was beginning to see with frightful clarity that
her daughter had, for several weeks or months, planned
and orchestrated every nuance of her suffering.
Eddie's cock began to broaden and pulse in Cindy's
throat causing the little girl to purr with delight as
he tightened his grip upon her ass and pumped her mouth
hard. When he sighed and let go of the girl, she slid
her mouth off of his still rigid penis and thanked her
Uncle Eddie for putting his milk in her tummy. Cindy
rubbed her belly for emphasis. Tam then seized hold of
Cindy and, enfolding the girl in her arms, gave her a
long searching kiss as her tongue sought out the
familiar taste of her beloved husband's essence in the
recesses of little Cindy's juicy mouth.
Cindy allowed herself to be kissed in this manner for
only a short time before she extricated herself from
Tam's embrace and went over to the mat and knelt down
before Cherie's upturned and sorely abused vaginal cup.
Mother and daughter's identical cold blue eyes met and
Cherie frantically cast about in her mind for words to
say but Cindy spoke first.
"Oh mom," she said with the air of someone whose
patience had been tried but not broken. "You got it all
wrong. You're not the Incarnation of Etta. I am. And I
have chosen you, dear mommy, to be my cup maiden."
Cherie swooned from exhaustion and defeat. The last
thing she felt before she slipped from consciousness
was her daughter's teeth grinding into her clit as she
drank greedily from Cherie's womb.
THIS IS NOT OVER.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 51