Chapter 2

"There, how's that? he asked, stepping back to admire his work.

This was an incredible situation. Here I was tied to a tree half naked. That wasn't all that unusual, but it was Paul who had tied me. Not only had he tied me, but he had used leather cuffs. Now I might be naive, but even I knew that he hadn't run down to the corner store and bought them while I'd been changing into my shorts. And that was also something; he told me what to wear, or was it what not to wear. And he had tied up my boobs and touched them a lot.

After Paul finished tying me, I was just too confused to experience anything for several minutes. And then the ropes on my boobs began to arouse me. Whenever I shifted in the ropes, they sawed my skin. Very quickly I began to experience a warm feeling between my legs. I had never had that feeling before, at least not quite in this way.

I looked up at the leather cuffs on my wrists. Clearly, these were well used. It was no use ignoring it: who used them? Who was tied? I was about to ask a question in my mind when my first ever orgasm hit me. It was beyond belief. As I writhed in my ropes, the waves of pleasure continued to wash over me. Then I blacked out. When I came to, I was hanging limply.

I didn't know why it happened. After several minutes, I got both my feet under me and shifted in my ropes. Right away, I felt the warm feeling building again between my legs, so I twisted some more. At last I made the connection; the ropes on my boobs were the trigger. I decided to test my conclusion and another orgasm hit me. This one wasn't quite as intense, but it was extremely pleasurable, all the same.

It took me longer to recover this time. But when I did, I was a wiser girl. I knew what it was about being tied up that drew me to it.

Obviously, being tied up was no longer a childhood game or something you did just for something to do. A question popped into my mind: Did my friends know or suspect? Natashia probably knew and Paul, too. That got me thinking about her little game. She was spanked regularly. Did she get her kicks from being spanked the way I did from being tied up? Obviously, I had to pursue that question.

Then Paul returned. He wasn't alone. Lim was with him.

"Enjoying yourself?" he said acidly.

I turned red from embarrassment. Here I was half naked and helpless with an old man and a little boy watching me. I didn't know what to say. He raised a questioning eyebrow. "I got a question," I managed to say.

"These cuffs, for instance. They're not new." I said.

He nodded. "I gave them to Paul."

"And these ropes across my breasts. They were very, shall we say, strategically placed."

He grinned, "I told him about that trick, too. Did it do it?"

Perplexed, I said, "Do what?"

"Give you an orgasm. It's like when boys masturbate."

I blushed. He snorted his impatience. I said, "It was great."

For a long moment, he just stood there and smiled at me. Then he said, "Well, enjoy yourself.

* * *

The next day, when my friends returned, they were all excited trying to tell me what they had done. Of course, I was excited for them, but there was something different. I too had an experience, but I chose not to tell them, at least not yet. Besides, mine would keep and they were simply being the good friends they always had been. But out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Natashia eyeing me speculatively.

* * *

Almost a week went by before Natashia and I had a chance to talk. "Nola," she began, "What happened?"

"Paul tied me up. He made me take my T-shirt off!"

"Wow!"

I nodded, "And without a bra! And Lim saw me!"

She smiled when I told her about the orgasm, "You already knew you enjoyed bondage. What you experienced yesterday probably won't make you want to stop."

I hastened to add, "Natashia, I'm real glad you understand. It's just that I do like it but I want to know why others don't."

"How do you know that the others don't?" she asked.

Stumped for a moment, I stammered, "Well, I guess I just sort of thought because you tie me all the time......"

"Oh, Nola," Natashia began, "being tied is only half of bondage; someone has to do the tying."

So I asked, "Do you enjoy being spanked, Natashia?"

She blinked, then blushed, "Not really. It was my father who started spanking me when mom wasn't around. And his brother, Uncle Jeremy and the Reverend Harvard."

I thought about that for a few minutes. Her father was a big fat man, easily weighing about three hundred. His brother, Natashia's uncle, was really old. He was short and fat. The minister at the church was really creepy. I don't know how she could stand getting it from those guys.

We sat for several more minutes, then Natashia asked, "You want to be tied up?"

"Right now?" I asked.

Natashia laughed, "Go and get dressed like yesterday. I'll call Paul."

I went to my room and decided to be really daring so I put on my bikini bathing suit bottom with my T-shirt. And, of course, no bra.

Natashia was on the phone when I came back downstairs. She hung up and said, "He'll meet us at Lim's!"

* * *

Paul pulled my hands behind my back and tied them. He then tied my feet together and pulled them against the tree. He used another rope to tie my feet to the base of the tree.

The next part was really tough on me. He attached a long rope to my tied wrists and threw the other end over one of the branches. Then he started to pull my arms up, forcing me to bend over with my head touching the tree. He pulled my arms up backwards until I groaned, then he tied the end of the rope to the tree. Next he tied my bare breasts just like he did yesterday.

"And what do you think of that?" he asked.

This was definitely a terrifying experience. My body was secured and it was pulling against itself. Yet, even as I considered his question, I experienced that same feeling between my legs.

"It's definitely different," I managed to say with some strain. "I've never been in anything like this before."

There was silence for a couple minutes as I tried to get used to this new bondage position.

"Too much?" It was Lim's voice.

"Nooo, I can handle it," I said. Then I blurted out without thinking, "Are you all enjoying the view?"

I knew the view I was giving Paul. That's why he tied me that way. I was, bent over, my legs apart, my arms pulled up backward and my buttocks lewdly displayed in the skimpy bikini bottom with my breasts bare.

Paul giggled, "It's one of my favourites, although you should be all nude."

"All nude?" I gasped.

"Yeah," he replied, somewhat reluctantly, as if she had said more than he wanted to say. Paul swatted my behind, saying, "Yes, nothing else. At least nothing else that would cover this." He spanked my buttocks again.

This frightened me, but the feeling in my crotch was building and I decided to concentrate on that.

It happened again. It was an incredible experience. Different than the first time. This time I couldn't move at all. All I could do was pant and groan and whimper.

After it was over, Natashia asked, "Was it good?" I smiled and nodded, so she continued, "Now you just stay there for a while and let yourself feel some really tight bondage."

I really did feel the strain. I kept trying to straighten out my legs, but, of course, I couldn't. I didn't have any more orgasms but I enjoyed my feeling of helplessness.

Natashia asked if I wanted to be untied.

"No, not just yet. I can take it," I replied.

"Well, that's good!" continued Natashia, "Because you don't get released until we've had our fun."

I answered, "Well, you guys do what you want.

I was untied but the ropes were not removed from my wrists or ankles; and, after a few minutes of stretching, Paul told me to take off my bikini pants.

I was appalled. I was scared. But I knew I had no choice. This had gone past the point of stopping. Paul was excited. Lim was excited. Natashia was looking at me with gleaming eyes, a crazy smile on her face. And besides, didn't I know this was going to happen when I put on those tiny pants? They could almost see everything anyway.

"Wait!" Paul said, an idea forming in his head. "Let's blindfold her first, so she can't see what we're gonna do!" Natashia agreed. Lim just smiled. Paul blindfolded me.

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of the pants. I pulled them down and let them drop around my ankles. I knew where Paul would be looking so I clenched my buttocks, trying to make them less conspicuous. Lim was probably looking at my hairless slit.

Paul slapped my bare flesh. "Don't do that," he said.

I relaxed. Hell, he was just a kid, let him have his jollies.

* * *

Paul put four large bricks on the grass in the doorway of the horse stall in the barn, mid-way between the edges of the doorway. He then made me stand on the bricks. He then pointed to the upper corners. I nodded and held up my arms. He motioned for me to stand on my tiptoes and to reach for the corners. First one wrist, then the other, was secured tightly to the eye bolts in the corners. I had a little trouble balancing, but I managed. Then, kneeling, he ran the ropes from my ankles through the hooks in the bottom corners. Then he said, "Brace yourself," and jerked both ropes. This pulled my legs apart, off the bricks, and threw all my weight on my wrists.

I yelled. Paul looked up at me, but he held the ropes. He managed to tie one rope to the other and there I was, hanging by my wrists. This was a serious undertaking.

"This more interesting?" Paul asked in his whiny teasing voice.

It was hard to talk at first, but I finally managed to groan, "Yes, it is very interesting."

Paul laughed. "It's a real strain at first, but your mind can control your body and you'll learn to hang limply."

I was suspicious, but I decided to try to take Paul's advice. I just let my head fall on my chest and tried to blank my mind.

Chapter 3

I pestered Natashia until she said I could watch her get spanked. I said I would bring Paul with me. She thought that would be terribly embarrassing, having a ten year old boy watch her get it. But if I wanted to I should just do it, without asking if it was okay.

I didn't think anything about it for several days. Then one day, when I got home from school, my mother said that Natashia called and I could stay over the weekend if I wanted to. Mom said it was okay.

* * *

"I'm going to Natashia's house." I told my mother after supper on Friday. I didn't say anything about Paul. My mother didn't like girls and boys staying overnight together, now that we were getting older.

I picked up my knapsack and went outside.

Natashia's house was only a couple blocks. Paul was waiting for me around the corner. He was excited, even though he didn't know why I had invited him along. Being just a little kid, he was used to being rejected by us older kids. He had a brown paper bag with him.

When we arrived, I was scared. While Natashia had seen me tied up, I had never seen her spanked. I had no idea how her father might react.

When we entered the house, Natashia's father, Curt, greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. His breath reeked of stale beer. He said, "Nola, Natashia said you were coming." He looked at Paul with a strange smile. "Come in, both of you, and sit down. Natashia is waiting."

Boy, Natashia sure was waiting.

She was wearing a tight halter top and snug, short shorts that hugged her beautiful behind; they were almost like her bikini underpants. With half of each cheek exposed, they revealed more than they concealed. Natashia was certainly better endowed than I was. It didn't do anything for me but Paul had a good eye for a girl's bum. We all knew that when we wore anything tight around the buttocks, especially shorts or our bathing suits, he couldn't keep his eyes off of us. But he wasn't the only one. At the pool, lots of dads looked too.

And sometimes when Natashia played with us, Paul managed to squeeze her delicious ass, or maybe trailed a finger across one of her cheeks and goosed her a little bit and she wasn't even disturbed about it. She was used to the boys patting her on the behind and giving it a squeeze when they could. Everybody thought that Natashia had a cute ass, maybe even a great ass, and she knew it too. Didn't she pick her clothes, more or less, to show it off? Tight jeans? Spandex skirts revealing everything? Maybe other girls were pissed, but that didn't bother Natashia in the least. It didn't bother me either.

So when Paul admired Natashia's ravishing rear end, and got away with a touch, a pat, a squeeze, and now and then, a goose, Nola was not surprised.

Natashia noticed how nervous I was and how agitated Paul was; and she smiled and then said weakly, "Relax. It's okay. At least, you guys' will have a good time this weekend!" I thought it was a sick smile.

That told me a lot about Natashia. I continued into the room.

Her father spoke, "Nola, why don't you sit here at the end of the couch, and Paul, you too."

"Where's your mom?" I asked Natashia.

"She went to visit her mother for the weekend," she answered, "so dad's having some guys over for a few beers...and stuff." She sounded a little hesitant, especially with the "and stuff" part.

I peeked at her father. His beer gut undulated when he walked.

The doorbell rang. Curt went to the door and opened it.

* * *

The minister's name was Mr. Harvard. I never even heard his first name. He was a fundamentalist preacher who was also a member of the local school board. He lectured and sermonized a lot about sin, thought about it a lot, and was prepared to see it scourged out of a sinner.

If he couldn't do the scourging himself, he wanted to watch and to supervise to be certain that the chastisement was sufficient to atone for the sin. He, of course, insisted that atonement be preceded by full, honest confession and that if more extreme measures were needed to get a confession, so much the better. Eventually she, in his opinion most sinners were female, would confess. She would be uncomfortable, would certainly cry and probably beg and plead to be released, but that could not be helped. Once under punishment, she would be restrained until her confession was heard.

He took one look at the scantily clad Natashia and compressed his lips into a tight line as he stared at her with flaming eyes.

Now this little heathen needed to confess and be saved, he thought.

"Good afternoon, Reverend," Natashia said shyly.

Curt looked at his brother-in-law with a wide grin.

The doorbell rang a second time. This time Natashia answered it.

* * *

Curt thought about Uncle Jeremy and his idea of discipline. He was one of the older generation, at sixty, twenty years older than Curt. He was a short, bald, fat, single-minded, stubborn man, who demanded to be obeyed, and angered quickly when somebody was naughty. When needed, the guilty recipient was grabbed and dragged into his private room. Dragged, by an ear or by a nipple or by a hand, Jeremy didn't care.

And the guilty party would go up over the back of Jeremy's chair, and girl or boy, it did not matter; well, yes it did matter. Uncle Jeremy was less interested in spanking the boys when they had been naughty. Bad behaviour from boys was more or less expected. Even though Curt had gotten it once for something really serious, although he couldn't remember what it was.

But Jeremy was at his best when the culprit was a girl. He had higher standards for girls and he insisted on them being observed. He demanded it.

Pants and underwear, shoes and socks, shirts or tops, everything would come off, legs were spread wide, ankles were fastened to the back legs of the chair, wrists fastened to the front legs, and the guilty child was given time, a long time, naked and frightened, to consider the crime.

Sometimes Jeremy would run his hands over the bare bottom before him, fondling it prior to punishment. Of course, he could not help looking at the delicious young femininity that was exposed. But he could bear up under the strain. And then, when plenty of time had passed to think and to worry, only then would Jeremy take his strap, a sturdy length of leather, long and wide and wicked.

Jeremy would study the bare flesh, consider the crime and decide on suitable punishment. All this in total silence, though now and then a guilty girl, pondering her criminal behaviour and the punishment sure to follow, would begin to cry in anticipation, feeling in advance the fiery kiss of the leather strap across her tender buttocks.

Only then Jeremy would give an efficient strapping, long and very slow, with lengthy intervals between strokes, really fierce, scorching the upturned flesh flaming red; hearing and ignoring the cries and screams that always came; paying no attention to the pleas for mercy that he knew he would hear; laughing at youthful promises to be good, to obey, whatever, if only.....

Uncle Jeremy delivered a judicious thrashing, a noisy one, one that could be heard by everybody in the house. A little noise was a good thing; everybody else would know what was happening. The spanking would be accompanied by screams and tears. It was bound to be remembered, and just might modify a child's behaviour for the better, though probably not. It would usually have to be repeated. Many times.

Of course, Jeremy had no personal interest in looking at naked, female buttocks, even if the ass belonged to one of his nieces or daughters, or watching it buck and heave as it was repeatedly kissed by that awful strap. He did not really want to look at young, naked little girl's pussies, at thighs which would have loved to clench to hide the secret treasures between them, at that most private spot between parted cheeks. No, not Uncle Jeremy. But did all this give him a furious erection? Well, maybe.

* * *

Curt certainly remembered. He had watched many such thrashing's, yes, he remembered well. He, too, had been over the back of that chair, his bottom bared, everything showing while Uncle Jeremy gave him the treatment, the whole treatment.

* * *

So when Curt asked Uncle Jeremy, since he was retired and living close by, if he would come over for the weekend and remind them of the way that things used to be done, Uncle Jeremy liked the idea just fine.

And just in case, in his overnight bag was the strap, a wicked looking length of black leather, about three inches wide and twenty-four inches long, with the end cut into three tongues. It was the same one that Uncle Jeremy had used years ago.

It was capable of inflicting ass-blistering spanking, if punishment was to happen. Would punishment happen? Curt would decide. Reverend Harvard would certainly watch, never going to pass up the chance to see justice carried out. He would be judge and jury, would indict and convict and pronounce sentence and Uncle Jeremy would carry it out

Chapter 4

The men were out on the patio. Curt and Jeremy guzzled beer and chewed on huge, stinking cigars. Reverend Harvard sipped tepid water. The two obese men were stripped to shorts, letting their flabby hairy bellies flop around and showing their hairy armpits when they reached for another beer or the ashtrays.

Jeremy, although he was completely bald, was hairy all over, just like a shaggy dog. The wrinkled, old minister stayed dressed in his black suit with his tie correctly knotted although his pot belly was evident. Paul was with them. He was wearing just his skimpy underpants because he didn't bring his bathing suit, and his belly hung in a greasy fold over the front. It almost looked like he was nude. Nola hadn't noticed that he seemed to be getting heavier, What's with these guys, she thought, don't they care, don't they see?

Nola was looking out Natashia's bedroom window. She groaned. "It looks just like a pig pen out there," she said in disgust. "It's bad enough they are so huge but to expose themselves like that..." she stopped, realizing that it was Natashia's family she was talking about.

"Yeah," Natashia agreed, twisting her face in a look of disgust.

"Pretty gross, isn't it. You got that pig-pen part right! If we could sell the pig- meat that you see, we'd be rich!"

* * *

"How many beer do you think they've had," Natashia asked. She was sitting on her bed looking kind of sad.

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, I guess it's time I got them going if you want to see it!"

"What?" I asked, not understanding what she was talking about.

"Well, you see, Nola. I've got to piss off the Reverend to get it started."

"Why? What started?" I guess I was really stupid. Natashia looked at me like I was, anyway.

"Spanking, stupid! They need an excuse. Don't you get it?"

"I thought it just happened!" I exclaimed.

"No chance. There has to be a reason. You know my dad's the mayor and the town constable. He sure doesn't want a scandal."

"Wow!"

"And you'd better not tell anybody about this. Or dad will have to arrest you and put you in a jail cell. You wouldn't like that! Or would you?"

"No, I guess not!"

"Come on Nola, get with it. I'm just kidding."

I looked at my friend with tears in my eyes. She was going to start this just so I could see her get it.

"The thing is, I've got to get them horny. This is really a sex show. That's easy with dad because mom doesn't even sleep in the same room with him. Because of his weight and all. And he peeks at my ass all the time when he thinks I don't know he's around. But the others, they just need an any excuse so I'm going to give them one. And you can help."

"How?" I stammered.

"First off, you got to show some skin. I'll seem okay out by the pool, so get into a pair of my shorts and a halter top or something. I've got some old stuff that should fit you, when I was littler. And remember, when this starts, it won't stop, so don't interfere. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," I said. But really I hadn't.

"So get ready to watch a play which is going to combine striptease, moral self- righteousness, spanking and sex as a blood-sport."

* * * I changed into a pair of Natashia's old shorts and halter top. Then I followed her down the stairs and we headed toward the patio.

"No turning back now," she grimaced.

They were all watching us. I just followed Natashia. She went right to Jeremy and put her arm around his neck. Then she picked up his beer bottle and took what looked like a long drink. I was stunned.

She sat on his lap for a few minutes then took one of his cigarettes from a half empty pack and lit it. She drew in deeply and expelled a cloud of smoke directly at Reverend Harvard. I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought I was dreaming. Natashia didn't smoke and drink. Or at least I didn't think she did.

The look on the Reverend's face was appalling.

* * *

On a sunny Friday night, Nola and Paul were at Natashia's house with Jeremy and Curt sitting and watching while the Reverend Harvard marched Natashia around the room, holding an ear lobe firmly between thumb and forefinger. Natashia's hands already fastened behind her back, her wrists tied together with a length of sash-cord that Jeremy remembered to bring, just in case.

This is exactly what Uncle Jeremy would have done twenty years earlier. The Reverend emphasized loudly the part of about the thorough spanking on her bare buttocks. He loosened Natashia's belt buckle, and with a tug, pulled her tight, sexy shorts down over her hips, and as soon as they were down to her knees, reached up and grabbed the nylon panties, tugging them down too. This also was just like Uncle Jeremy, who almost as much as anything liked that first look at the bare ass which would get his attention.

Now nude from the waist down, Natashia gasped in embarrassment, not wanting her uncle, her father, and her friends looking at her body. They stared. All of them had seen this breath taking ass a thousand times before, but always clothed, only her father had see it bare. And she looked as good, semi- nude as they had imagined.

Jeremy was trying to conceal it, but he had a furious hard-on and all he could think of, just then, was which of a thousand different things he could do with it, with Amy as an unwilling partner in each fantasy. The Reverend looked up, noted that Jeremy and Curt were hard as a rock, but said nothing. He thought that Natashia had better get used to being nude before them, that they would be seeing all there was to see on a fairly regular basis from now on, if he had his way, though he had no intention of turning Natashia over to Jeremy for his pleasure. No, the minister was positive that this teenager would get her share of fucking in the future, but Jeremy was not going to be the sex partner.

But one thing that was very much in his plan; that Natashia would learn obedience, total obedience, absolute obedience. Starting right now!!!

The Reverend's hand drew back, and he gave Natashia an explosive, hard crack with his bare hand on Natashia's naked ass, leaving a bright, flaming pink hand-print on Natashia's ass. Natashia squealed, not realizing that a single hard blast from a bare hand could hurt so much. The second swat on the other cheek hurt even more, and the slow, even spanking, each stroke alternating from one cheek to the other had her crying almost hysterically in only a few moments.

Jeremy was delighted to notice that as the spanking was applied, hard and slow, and that Natashia quickly forgot about trying to hold her legs together. After the third or fourth smack, he could see pussy almost constantly. And better yet, the Reverend seemed perfectly aware that everyone could see and was looking, and further that the men had furious erections. Jeremy knew full well that there was no way that Curt or the Reverend was going to let him fuck this delicious teenager; that his pleasure would be simply visual, at least for now.

But Jeremy had lusted after Curt's sexy daughter for a long time, and he knew that sooner or later his moment would come, that some opportunity would arise when he got this delightful cutie nude when Curt wasn't around. His interest was heightened even more when the Reverend pulled up Natashia's tank-top, discovered that she was wearing a strapless bra that hooked in front, unhooked it and tossed it on the floor, and let Natashia's full, luscious breasts swing free, the pink nipples standing erect, obviously from fear.

So now the men had a look at the whole package, completely naked Natashia. Jeremy could wait, would have to wait, but his fantasies multiplied. And when the Reverend seized each jutting nipple between thumb and forefinger and firmly squeezed, Natashia gasped in agony and cried and begged for forgiveness. When the minister ordered her to spread her legs, she did it immediately. Jeremy's eyes almost popped out at this humiliating act.

Paul was ecstatic. He was twisting and groaning as he watched the obscene spectacle. Nola just stared.

He started the spanking again, another series of very hard swats with his bare hand to Natashia's heaving, twisting ass. All the twisting in the world would not make Reverend Harvard miss. One hard stinging shot after another, each one accompanied by crying, by pleading, by begging to forgiveness, by promises to be good. Nothing helped. Nothing would have helped. He gave it to her as hard as he could swing, lecturing her with each swat, colouring the beautiful, breath-taking buttocks bright red.

The way the Reverend taught obedience was the old fashioned way, applied hard and slow to a naked bottom, and the more heaving, twisting, crying, screaming and begging for forgiveness, the better!! He would not forget and would not forgive. He would control. Absolutely. And that is what he was doing, right now. Taking absolute control.

* * *

For Natashia it had been an absolutely horrible evening so far, and now was threatening to get even worse. She had been stripped, stark naked, and then spanked, thoroughly spanked on her bare buttocks, in front of her father, her uncle, and her best friends by that hideous Reverend, something that she had never, in wildest imagination thought would ever happen to her. She thought of the evening's humiliating events, of being caught and stripped naked and shown off nude and terrified, and of the hard spanking.

And the worst thing, when the bastard took her cute little panties off her gorgeous ass, he rubbed his hands across her buttocks, gently fondling each lovely, naked cheek, and then, found a path between her thighs and tested how it felt to run a finger into teen-aged pussy and feel her body just writhe when he found her clitoris.

She began to cry all over again.

* * *

Reverend Harvard took Natashia by an ear, and led her into the house. She looked a mess. She was crying, knowing that she was going to be punished again. But not yet. Her hands were unfastened and she was pushed into the shower, given a bar of soap, ordered to scrub, and when she was spotless, to present herself, naked, in the basement. Natashia showered, slowly, taking as long as possible to scrub herself, not anxious at all to go to the basement.

She was still in the shower when the door burst open, her Uncle Jeremy walked in, reached into the shower stall, turned off the water, and grabbed her by a still erect nipple. Twisting and pulling, he said to her, "Let's go little girl, you're keeping us waiting."

He tossed her a towel, watched her dry off, and spanked her red, throbbing bare ass to speed her up, and then followed her as she ran, naked, down the stairs to the basement. She expected everyone to be there waiting. They were!

Natashia thought that the Reverend was the one she feared the most. He was the typical do-gooder, fundamentalist, fire breathing, hell threatening hypocrite. She did not know what they were going to do to her now, but she knew that it would not be good for her.

* * *

Uncle Jeremy fastened her into cuffs. Her arms were attached behind her back. She was totally naked and totally petrified. She was standing before them, her nipples erect from fear and cold. The Reverend was standing in the centre of the damp, smelly room, holding Jeremy's leather strap. Jeremy and her father were seated, staring at Natashia's nipples and at her curly pubic triangle. Nola and Paul stared at Natashia, Nola with compassion, Paul with lust.

Uncle Jeremy was hoping that the preacher would turn the teenager over to him for punishment; and for Jeremy, punishment meant first a blistering, bare ass whipping and then, hopefully, fucking. Now, he was afraid, Natashia would get her's all right, but she would get the strap from the minister and the fucking, maybe even up the ass, from that rotten, lecherous so-called preacher, as well. Well, he thought, at least he would get another look at Natashia's delicious bare ass.

The Reverend knew that this girl was a secret sinner, in thought as well as deed and she needed to be scourged and to be examined. He looked forward to the occasion with great joy.

* * *

Nola fantasized that it was her ass getting ready for the spanking with the wicked leather strap. She imagined the furious, welting agony as the strap tore into her bare buttocks, making her writhe in exquisite torment, making her cry and squirm, and almost making her cum in the process. And she imagined the preacher, nude and erect, huge and hard and demanding. And that it was her body that was being slowly, forcefully penetrated, opened wide, and fucked!

She knew that if she was thrashed by that vile man the spanking would be only the beginning. Nola knew, just knew, that her own naked body would get violated. She knew that Natashia and Paul would be there, watching. But so would those two fat slobs.

* * *

Natashia was getting spanked with the strap, slowly, hard, encouraged to confess. He made Natashia tell him in full detail everything. She told; how Nola like to be tied up, how she got sexual release from it; how Paul liked to look at a girl's bum; including the fact that Nola expected to be stripped by the Reverend, spanked, and...and...other things. He was delighted. He ordered Jeremy to bring Nola over for questioning and penance.

* * *

The Reverend demanded to know all, and got the full, glorious details of Nola's pleasure with the ropes. Nola was terribly frightened, but much more excited than scared.

"Let's see what this disobedient little girl looks like. Get her clothes off of her."

Jeremy pulled the halter top over Nola's head and Nola was twisted around, showing off her tiny, bare breasts and her very erect pink nipples. Jeremy fondled Nola's tits, massaging the erect nipples.

The Reverend nodded, perhaps in approval. Next, Nola's shorts came down followed by her panties. Jeremy spun her around again, this time showing off her maturing buttocks. She was built exactly the way the preacher liked girls to be built, nice little breasts, nice thighs, nice hips, great ass, a hairless pink slit. The preacher was furiously erect, making no effort to hide his very obvious hard-on. He was going to give it to this cutie soon, and probe her sexy holes if he could get away with it. He reached for her, and pinched her naked ass. And then drew back his hand and gave her a hard spank on the right cheek, leaving a pink imprint. She squealed, more in shock than in pain.

The two girls were interrogated together, ordered to confess their sins. He wanted especially to hear about lesbian love play. They both denied that perverted act. But Nola quickly admitted to the bondage and the sexual relief she got from it.

* * *

The preacher was horrified. Reverend Harvard was hugely erect. He undressed, showing them a monstrous, thick hard-on. It looked gigantic, terrifying to the two young girls. He also had the leather strap.

The two children were laid, side by side over a bench, naked, buttocks raised, legs spread, wrists fastened behind their backs. Both girls were lectured. Both were punished; the strap firmly dishing out its wicked strokes on first one ass and then the other. Both bare behinds turned pink and then red as the leather did its insidious work. It was a loud, noisy spanking, and certainly very vicious. Both girls cried and begged for forgiveness.

The preacher explored Natashia's asshole with a crooked finger, stretched her out with a second finger, and slowly inserted his monstrous cock, pushed it through the sphincter, and buried it in her.

Jeremy watched the insertion, watched every single stroke, silently cheering the pervert on as he took her ass, watching as he reached his hands under her, grasped her nipples between thumb and forefinger, and squeezed. She was entirely helpless. She knew now that he would take her to total, heaving, bucking orgasm as soon as he wanted to and that there was nothing, absolutely nothing that she could do to stop him.

Then Jeremy picked up the strap and really laid into Nola's ass while her friend was being ass fucked. The force of the blows was greater than Nola would ever have imagined for starters. Red streaks appeared on each cheek.

"How're those for starters?" Jeremy asked the leering Curt.

Without taking his eyes from the obscene performance he answered, "Just right big brother. Keep it up."

Curt began a rhythmic application of the strap to Nola's ass. He resumed his previous position and began to swing the leather. The initial strokes caught Nola on the ass, but soon Jeremy was hitting her on the thighs and back.

* * *

Paul was mesmerized. He'd never dreamed it would be like this. Oh, he'd read about whipping, but to actually see the scalding of a friend's ass and legs, well, that was really something. He enjoyed listening to Nola grunt and groan as her body absorbed the force and the pain of each stroke.

He looked over at Natashia's father. He was smoking and drinking beer, staring intently at Nola's surging ass and the Reverend fucking his daughter's ass. This jolted him. And then he caught Curt jerking furiously on his huge cock.

Wow

Chapter 5

Finally, dropping the strap, Jeremy said, "We'll let her rest a bit if that's okay with you Curt. We got the rest of tonight and tomorrow, too"

Curt said, "Don't matter to me. Whatever you guys want is fine with me."

When the whipping and fucking was finished and Natashia and Nola were released, Natashia said we would be having pizza for supper.

While we waited for the pizza to be delivered, the men drank and smoked and talked about the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning, after three pieces of toast, Natashia threw down her crust and said, "Shit."

Looking up, the Reverend replied, "What did you say?"

"I said 'shit'," she repeated. "I need a break. This is just too intense."

He replied, "What you mean is that you need your ass paddled."

She said nothing for a moment, then, after lighting a cigarette, she said, "You ready to do me, dad?"

Curt nodded. Natashia stood and went back down to the basement. Everyone followed. She stripped naked and this time she lay along the length of the six foot bench. Curt quickly bound her ankles to the back legs then pulled her tight and tied her wrists to the front legs, tightening Natashia so she couldn't move. After locking the basement door, Curt stripped then picked up a vicious looking riding crop.

I undressed to my panties, but Jeremy ,the Reverend and Paul didn't.

He hefted it the crop and swung it around in the air.

Then, without warning her, he hit the left cheek of her ass as hard as he could. The crack sound echoed in the room and, almost involuntarily, Paul said, "god."

Natashia shrieked, and looked up at me. She was surprised to see my bare tits and her eyes bulged, but then she said, "Like your dress."

He hit her at least thirty times with that whip. And when he was done, her back and ass and thighs were criss-crossed with the thin red lines.

CARI

For as long as I remember, the thought of being the "victim" was always exciting. And during my childhood, there were people around me that made this desire even more real, whether I wanted them to be or not.

I was eleven the first time..

You could say I was a loner at that age. Few of the other girls were really interested in being my friend. It didn't help that both my mother and father were alcoholics and the whole town knew it. So, I spent alot of time alone.

My parents were brutal to me at times, locking me in my room, going without dinner, leaving me for hours on end. But, there was one person who would come over and play.

His name was Casey. And, at this time, he was just turning fourteen.

He would watch for when my parents left the house and would come over, sometimes helping me with my homework, sometimes just playing a board game. A couple of times my parents came home and found Casey in the house, but, they were usually too drunk to say anything.

Finally, in early October, Casey had gotten the courage to ask my parents whether it would be alright to watch me after school.

Since there had been a little tussle between them and the local juvenile authorities about leaving me alone, they were all too glad to accept his offer.

It wasn't as though I was incapable of taking care of myself. For that matter, there were very few people that even thought I was eleven. I was just under five feet tall, rather pretty, and well proportioned. My blonde hair was cut very short, like a boy’s cut.

The rest of my body was also a lot like a boy’s. My brests were tiny, with small pea- sized pink nipples and a few freckles.

All in all, however, it was good to have company like Casey. One afternoon, Casey had arrived at my house even before I had gotten home from school. He had stopped at the store and had bought us milk and cookies.

Eagerly, I put my coat into my room and returned to the kitchen where I joined him. As we ate, Casey seemed to be pre- occupied with a thought.

"What are you thinking about ?" I asked him.

"Aw, nothin." he replied.

"Come on..."

"Oh, allright." he said, finishing the last of his milk. "I was reading this book that my father had, and it was about a guy who took this woman prisoner."

"Yea..." I asked, as he drifted off in thought again.

"Cari, have you ever thought of being captured, and being someone's prisoner?", said, looking deadly serious.

"Uh, no." I answered, just a little scared at the thought of it. "Why do you ask?”

He thought for a moment. "We can try playing a game like that if you want to."

Now it was my turn to think. "What did this guy do to the woman ?"

Casey seemed to be getting uncomfortable. "It's hard to explain." he said, "I would really have to show you."

Again, I thought. Casey was always there for me, never asking for any- thing, and just wanting to be my friend. I really didn't see any reason for me to worry, besides, it had been pretty boring around here.

"Ok, lets play." I said.

A smile came over Casey's face. "Great !" and with that, he got up from the table and went to the cabinet under the sink, where there was some cord wound in a ball.

"Whats that for ?" I asked him. "You'll see."

Casey asked me to get changed out of my school clothes and into something old. So, looking in my closet, I found an old brown dress that buttoned down the front. I quickly put it on and re-joined him in the living room.

"Now what ?" I asked.

"Ok, make believe you are watching TV and I'll sneak into the house and get you." he said, smiling.

Casey quietly left the room, and I went over to the TV, turning it on. Then I sat on the couch and pretended I was all alone.

A few mintues went by. The TV droned on, but I wasn’t watching it.

I was “pretending.”

“Poor me.”, I was thinking, “Only eleven years old, alone and defenseless in this big old house. What horrible fate would happen to me if…”

“Uhhnnnggg!” I grunted, as strong arms surrounded me from behind, crushing me in their grip. A hand clamped over my mouth.

"Don't move, or I'll kill you." he said, in a frightening voice.

I sat motionless on the couch. He moved to the front of me, then pushed me down into a laying position. He scooped me up from the couch, very gently carrying me into the kitchen.

While I had been changing, he had cleared the table. He carried me to the empty table and put me down.

"Make believe you passed out." he said, so I closed my eyes.

He picked up my right arm, and dropped it. Remembering I was supposed to be passed out, I let it fall to my side. As I peeked one eye open, I could see Casey was smiling.

He went to my feet, then pulled me down towards him, until he had centered me on the table top. Then he moved to my head, took my arms and placed them over my head, spread to each corner of the table.

A moment later, I could feel the cord being wrapped around my left wrist. I heard a pair of scissors snipping at the cord, then watched out of squinted eyes as he tied the end to the table leg.

Casey did the same to my other wrist, just as quickly and silently. I heard him walk to the bottom of the table, then felt his hands wrap around my slender ankles. Slowly, he spread my legs wide apart.

I could feel the cool October air rush up between my legs. He slipped off my shoes and socks. I wanted to say something. Even at my early age, I had a rough idea of where this was leading.

I wasn’t sure of the details of what he was going to do to me. But, whatever it was, it was going to be dirty and nasty and wrong.

And I would not be able to do a thing to stop him from doing things, any things, whatever dirty nasty sexy things he was going to do to me.

I tried, I really did. I tried to think of something to say, some way to stop him. I even opened my mouth. But no words came out, just a soft gurgle.

I felt the cord wrap around my right ankle, then my left. He tied each end to the table leg. And when he was through, I was lying there, spread eagled on the kitchen table.

I went to move, but found that Casey had tied me much tighter than I had expected.

I opened my eyes and Casey was standing over me. I was totally defensless to his every desire, and that was giving me a tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach down between my legs.

Silently, Casey reached to the top button of my dress, and unbuttoned it.

"CASEY !" I said, rather pissed off. Casey stood there with a look of disappointment on his face.

"Come on, it's only a game." he said. I looked at him, then lowered my head back to the table. Ok, I had thought to myself, 'let's see how far this goes.'

He reached for the second button, and slowly unbuttoned it. He continued, until the dress was completely unbuttoned. I could feel the coolness of the air brushing against the small line of now exposed skin between the flaps of my dress.

I was becoming more frightened, and more excited. The tingling became more intense, and turned into a warm wetness between my legs. Slowly, he slid his hands inside of my dress, parting the material.

Beneath the dress I was wearing a training bra, because of my size, and a pair of white cotton panties. The cool air was taking it's toll on my nipples, which were hardening under the flimsy bra.

I looked up at Casey. He had this weird look on his face. His hand moved to my heaving breast. He gently caressed the rock hard nipple with his palm.

It felt incredible, like an electric shock through my body. I moaned. Fantasy had merged with reality now that I was really tied up and helpless. I was feeling things I’d never felt nor even knew existed before then.

Emotional things like fear and anticipation were swirling around in my head. And my body was assaulting me with physical things, both pleasure and pain that overwhelmed what little senses I had left.

Casey then took the scissors in his hand, and inserted the blade into the sleeve of the dress, cutting it to the collar. He went to the other sleeve, doing the same thing.

Then, putting the scissors down onto the table, he pulled the remains of the dress from off of my now shivering body, leaving only in bra and panties.

Casey didn't stop there. He picked up the scissors again, and inserted the blade into the strap of my bra. With a quick snip, it was cut. And, in a moment later, so was the other. He slid the blade between mt breasts, and a snip, and my bra was in pieces. This too, he pulled from my body.

His hands moved to the small mounds of my breasts. I instinctively tried to move my arm to push his hand away, but, I was unable to move. I began to squirm and struggle at the cord that bound me, but, it was no use.

The sight of me struggling made Casey even more excited. He took the nipple of my left breast between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it slightly.

I bit my lip in pain, but, didn't cry out. My toes arched outward, my ankles struggling at the cord.

Casey moved his lips to my right breast, taking my nipple into his mouth.

I had never felt this way before. There was a burning between my legs, one that seemed to get worse every moment that passed.

His hand moved to the softness of my stomach, his finger toying at my belly button, which protruded slightly. Then his hand moved lower, to the waistband of my panties. His hand slid beneath them, down to my hairless cunny. He slid his finger over my small opening, gently massaging the soft petals of my bald cunny lips.

Playing with myself was nothing new for me. It was a way of passing the time when I was alone. But, with Casey touching the spot that had only previously been touched by me was even more exciting. I felt his finger part my small petals to my tight little hole. His finger darted in and out, but, it was just too tight for him.

He slid his hand out from my panties, and raised his head. By this time, I was well on my way to cumming. I was whimpering almost constantly now, lost somewhere between reality and fantasy.

He picked up the scissors again and slid the blade beneath the waistband of my panties to the side. He snipped, the material giving way easily, then he snipped the other side, pulling the panties from me with the other hand.

Casey then got on the table, straddling me, and looking down into my eyes.

He paused, and we paused, and the world paused.

Captor looked down at helpless Captive, savoring his complete control over this defenseless little girl beneath him.

And Captive looked up at Captor, eyes unfocused, and mind awash in waves of fear and pleasure and pain…. and submission. Sweet submission, that rush that comes from total loss of control to another.

The silence stretched and our eyes stayed locked until I could take it no longer.

“Please….” I whimpered.

I didn’t have to say what I was asking of him, we both knew.

Casey and Cari…..Captor and Captive.

He began with my bound wrists, carressing me from my arms, to my breasts, then sliding off the end of the table, moving down my body to my ankles.

He slowly moved his tongue to my ankle, then, licking upward, worked his way up my leg, to the inner part of my thigh, finding my pussy open to his attack.

I felt that I was losing my mind. My body writhed and arched and jerked of its own accord, with no conscious direction from me. My hips gyrated to each move of his tongue. I had lost the power to speak again and was making inarticulate grunts and groans.

Nothing in my short life had prepared me for the strength and depth of the sensations I was feeling. I was completely and utterly overwhelmed.

He licked my small hole, down as far as he could, then moved upward once again. He darted his tongue to the entry of my virgin puss, gaining a little.

Then I came. Several loud, gutteral noises came from somewhere deep inside me. My tiny body jeked and arched, then stiffened. Straining against the ropes that restrained me, I quivered, my body locked in a painful arch.

Pleasure filled my world I was aware of nothing else for long seconds. Then I felt warm fluids gush out from my hairless pussy and my orgasm collapsed, as did my body. I fell back to the table with a THUNK and laid there, limp.

Casey stopped, worried that perhaps he had hurt me, but, seeing the expression on my face, he knew all too well that I was thoroughly enjoying it. He moved from the table, then began to open his pants.

I began to get frightened once again, for I had never seen the private parts of any boy before.

In a moment, he stood naked from the waist down. He moved to where my head was, brushed the hair that was sticking to my cheek away, then placed his dick close to my mouth.

"Open." he said.

Obiediently, I opened my mouth. There was a clear fluid coming from the head, which tasted salty, but, not too unpleasant.

"Suck on it." he commanded.

I closed my lips around the head of his cock. He pushed foward, slipping his shaft into my mouth. I sucked hard, but, was careful not to bite him. Several times he thrust himself deeply, almost choking me. He continued to move in an in and out motion. I felt him getting harder, his dick throbbing in my mouth. He moved his hand to my breast, massaging it gently. I continued to suck.

When he came, it was a surprise. I felt the hot sticky liquid shoot to the back of my throat. I felt myself gagging, but had no time as he squirted sperm into my helpless mouth again, and again. My cheeks puffed out, filled even though I was swallowing desparately.

Finally he stopped spurting and pulled out. His cock made a soft plopping noise when it left my mouth. My head made a soft thunk as he let it drop back down to the table.

I stared sideways out of glazed eyes while some of Casey’s sperm drooled out of my slack lips and onto the table.

I was exhausted, feeling my arms and legs aching. I laid back on the table, no longer struggling at the cords.

Casey moved quickly, cutting the cords from my wrists and ankles, then cutting what was left off of the table legs. He took the cord and what remained of my clothing and placed it into a trash bag.

He moved to the side of the table and picked me up, carrying my limp, exhausted body to my room. He laid me on my bed, then left the room for a moment. When he returned, he had his clothes in his hand, as well as the K-Y Jelly from the bathroom.

He climbed onto the bed with me.

I had had enough, but,I was too weak to fight him off. He slid himself between my legs, then laid on top of me. I could feel the head of his cock pressed against my virgin pussy.

He slowly pushed. Even as slippery as I was from my own juices, I was still too tight for him. He spread my legs as far apart as he could, but still, no luck.

Casey then laid on his side, laying my legs across him. He took the K-Y Jelly and spread it over the once again throbbing head of his cock. He took what remained on his finger and slid it to my hairless cunny.

His finger, with the added lubrication began to slip into my tight hole. He coated the inside of my pussy with the Jelly, then moved himself into position.

As his cock pressed to my cunny hole, I could feel the head slowly going into me. It was a little painful, but, I lay there, motionless, limp, and unresisting.

I may not have been tied, but I was still his Captive, still defenseless, still being dominated, still submissive.

He pushed again, I could feel the small head of his dick inside me now. Instad of pulling out, Casey continued pushing foward, going deeper inside of me. He reached my hymen, and with a thrust, took my virginity. I cried out in pain, but, Casey was too wrapped up in the whole thing to pay any attention.

He cupped his hand over my mouth to stop any more of my crying. He began to thrust deeper, moving rythmically. Soon, it began to feel good. I could feel the burning once again deep inside of me. My hips began to follow Casey's rythmn, to the point that at each thrust, he was buried inside of me.

I came first, jerking around the bed as though I were in a spasm. Casey's hand moved to my breast again, pinching at my nipple. The pain was causing me to move into still another orgasm. I arched my legs up. Casey pulled out only for a moment, then positioned himself between my legs, lying on top of me. He took my legs and pushed them upward, till my knees were almost touching my shoulders. He went inside me again, pushing hard.

With me wide open and defenseless beneath him, he began driving into me, pounding his hips into my exposed pussy again and again till I could feel his dick spasming inside of me, which made me come once again.

One cum began to blend with another as I felt his cock bloat inside me, stretching my little-girl tube more on every stroke until he was buried completely.

He stiffened, then hunched forward again as hard as he could. I felt the head of his cock force itself into my womb and push hard at the very back wall. I could feel my wall stretch and, for a moment, I imagined his cock tearing through it and driving up into my body cavity. The fear caused by that thought launched me into another cum.

Casey gave a grunt, and I felt his cock throb hard. He had stuffed me so full of cock that I could feel the throb start at the very base of his shaft and move along it toward the tip.

Time seemed to slow down for me, and I could distinctly feel a bulge move deeper into me. It seemed to get larger as it neared the head, which was still squashed against the back wall of my womb.

When it reached the head, I felt a hot gush of fluid way up inside me. I knew this was Casey’s sperm. He was spurting it up inside me and I couldn’t move a muscle to stop him. He gave another grunt, and I felt another throb, another bulge, another gush of hot sticky sperm.

I came, gurgling and jerking and spasming.

Casey came, grunting and throbbing and bulging and squirting.

It seemed to go on forever.

I could feel his sperm oozing out of my little-girl cunny. My crotch was getting slimy and sticky.

And he was still squirting his sperm into me.

Finally, he was through. He fell lifeless on top of me, both of us being exhausted. We finally got up the strength to get up.

I stood up on rubbery legs. I immediately felt a gush of wetness between my legs. I looked down to see ropy stings of sperm drooling out of my cunny and running down both thighs. I grabbed one of my shirts off the floor and stuffed it between my legs and waddled into the bathroom to clean up.

We finished clearing up the house just in time for my parents arrival.

It was a "unique" afternoon for Casey and I.

It changed our lives, especially mine.

For there were many other afternoon games of “Casey the Captor” fucking “Cari the Captive” senseless.

And many more “waddles” with something suffed between my legs to soak up the sperm running out of me.

I was 12 when Casey began bringing other “Captors” into the games.

But that’s another story…..

TONI

Toni still couldn't believe how quickly it had happened. She had stayed late after her final exams and, with the help of a forged ID, had had a few drinks with her classmates.

Her friends had wanted to go on drinking, had offered to drive her home if she would join them, but she had not. She hadn't wanted to worry her folks.

A brief bus ride later and she was taking a shortcut down a tree lined lane, the same shortcut she took during daylight hours to save a two block detour.

It was almost funny, in retrospect, how every decision she had made seemed to conspire against her.

Almost funny.

As she walked along the lonely stretch she became aware of footsteps behind her. Suddenly she was acutely conscious of the effect her peach, two piece outfit had from the rear.

The skirt was cut short, just above her knees, and had a slit in back to help show off her white patterned nylons. The lightweight jacket made swishing sounds as it brushed against her crisp white blouse, its broad bow trailing strips of cotton in the breeze.

As the footsteps drew closer, she fought down an urge to bolt, apprehension warring with the fear of appearing foolish should it turn out to be an acquaintance or neighbor. Still she found herself quickening her pace.

Suddenly two things happened so fast that Toni could not even say which happened first. A man leapt out from behind some bushes in front of her, a ski mask on his face; while a strong arm encircled her from the rear, pinioning her arms.

Before her eyes appeared a calloused hand, which clamped itself over her mouth.

Toni struggled against her imprisonment, not heeding the way her breasts quivered against the arm that held her. A glint of steel made her stop struggling. the man in front of her had a gun pointed directly in her face.

Toni felt her knees go weak, and she almost urinated from the fear, but some shred of absurd decorum prohibited her from doing so. He brought the gun right between her eyes. she could smell its oily aroma. Her brown eyes widened almost comically.

"You'll do exactly what you're told, right?" the man with the gun asked.

Toni nodded.

"Through these bushes," he commanded.

Toni willed her feet to move. The man behind her never once loosened his grip. Through the trees they moved into a clearing and Toni felt gorge rise in her throat. Undoubtedly she was going to be raped, perhaps even killed.

The man behind her forced her to her knees on the ground and uncovered her mouth. she gulped in huge gasps of fresh air, stopping when she noticed the way her heaving breasts were pushing out her blouse. The buttons were straining to hold the thin fabric together. It was because her arms were pulled tightly behind her she realized.

"Open your mouth," she was commanded by the man before her, the one with the gun. She became uncomfortably aware of the position of his crotch in relation to her mouth. As soon as her lips parted he poked the blunt gun barrel between her lips.

She started to moan. She was going to die! Three blocks from home!

"Shut up! I'm not going to kill you. You're going to be too much fun,”

In spite of the terrible implications of his words, Toni could focus on little other than his promise not to kill her. She did as she was told, holding still while the man behind her loosened his grip.

She was told to clasp her hands behind her back. The man who had held her produced a pair of shiny steel handcuffs from a small satchel and ratcheted them tightly against her wrists. The cold steel sent a chill to the depths of her soul. Their feel seemed horribly permanent.

Immediately the cuffs began to chafe her skin. The man with the gun withdrew it from her lips (her teeth chattered against the barrel as he did so) and ran a finger delicately along her jaw.

"How does a chick with such a nice bod get such pudgy cheeks? You're other cheeks nice and plump? Nah, they looked firm to me. You must use the cheeks for storage... You store nuts, honey, just like a squirrel?"

Toni was afraid to move or talk.

"Those lips are just right, though. Nice and full. Your mouth will look great wrapped around by cock."

"I--I'll b--blow you," Toni stammered, "if you l--let me go."

"Hell, sweetheart, I’m gonna keep you for a while. And you'll blow me lots more than once."

She wanted to will them away, but tears were the only sign she could give the man. Somehow tears could not communicate her hate. She knew already that tears were just what he wanted. What they both wanted.

"C'mon, let's get her out of here. Lots of time later to play," came the voice behind her.

His hand appeared before her, an odd assortment of leather straps and a red ball clutched tightly.

"He's right. We really want to show you our place, but we don't want to hear your chatter on the way. A woman should be fucked, not heard."

He took the strange contraption from his cohort and held the ball in front of Toni's mouth. One of the straps passed directly through the center of that ball. "Open wide, sweetmeat."

Toni didn't understand exactly what he wanted. When she moved too slowly, he shoved the ball roughly against her lips.

Wincing from the pressure, her lips almost splitting against the porcelain hardness of her teeth, Toni involuntarily opened her mouth. As soon as she did so the ball slid snugly into her mouth, pushing her teeth far apart.

It tasted and smelled sour. If before the ball had seemed small, now it was enormous. He pushed until her inner jaw was sore, and then buckled two of the leather straps behind her neck.

She could feel her teeth digging into the semi-soft surface, trying to expel the foul thing, but the resilient material sprung back.

"Get the van!" the gunman barked, and then he went back to working on her straps. One set buckled under her chin. Another set began just to either side of her mouth, met in the middle at the bridge of her nose, and continued up and over the top of her head as single strap. It was impossible to expel the noxious gag.

The thing had a foul taste. In defense, her mouth was salivating, huge gobs of spittle collecting behind the ball. She swallowed as much of the foul tasting saliva as possible, but could not swallow it all because of the way her lips were split open.

She was afraid she might vomit and choke to death before the man could undo all those straps (assuming he even made an attempt). She tried to just let it collect in her mouth, but it began to spill from the edges of her distended lips, and to slide under the ball, to drip from her pouting lower lip.

With disgust she realized she was drooling, huge gobs of spit were draining from her mouth and dripping from her chin.

Of course he noticed. In fact, it was all probably part of his plan.

"Baby want cock so much she drooling, ahhhh..." and he pulled gently on her head. She was so unbalanced that she fell against his crotch.

Quickly she lurched away, but his hand shot and wound itself through her hair. He pulled her back against his thigh so hard that her cheek went numb and her ears rang.

"Look, cunt, I put your face somewhere, that's where it stays, you got that?" She looked down. He yanked the back of her hair so that her face tilted up. She looked into the cool blue eyes of her tormentor.

"I said, you got that, you little cunt?"

She nodded as much as she could within the confines his grasp allowed her. Tears were spilling down her cheeks.

He smiled down at her. "Good girl. Boy, you do want it bad, don't you?"

He ran his finger under her chin and held it in front of her eyes. A large set drop of saliva dangled from his finger.

"You're drooling on your tits, honey. You shouldn't do that, it'll ruin that pretty outfit. I'll let you suck me later, so don't be sad. You look so sad I just can't stand it."

He was smiling, his grin splitting the ski mask. He reached into the hellish sack and pulled out a leather padded blindfold, and buckled it securely around her head. She had no way of knowing, but she had had her last glimpse of sun and sky for quite some time to come.

With her sight gone, she felt the fear take a quantum leap forward. She had thought she had reached the outer limits of terror, but it kept growing and growing.

She could be beaten, raped or shot.

She would never even see it coming.

She heard the sound of a vehicle nearby, and for one wild moment, she felt sure that it was the police, maybe even her father, come to save her.

"That's our lift honey," the man said, and he jerked her roughly to her feet by gripping the soft flesh of her armpit. She felt his fingers through the material, sliding across her sweaty skin. She felt branches snapping against her shins, and she barked them roughly against the edge of the van's doorway.

She was still trying to gingerly place her foot inside when he shoved her through. She tumbled roughly to the floor, banging her hip and elbow.

She was made to lay on her belly, her breasts pressed firmly against the cool metal. She felt the sadist gather her feet together, and, pulling them up, knot (a rope?) around her ankles.

Then he pulled her feet towards the center of her back, so that her heels almost were touching her rear. She felt him tie the rope to her hands, where the cuffs were. An experimental pull convinced her she was being hog-tied, bound feet to bound hands.

With a final yank, he brought her feet nearly to her wrists. Her back lit up with pain, but the only sound she could make was a grunt.

During the interminable ride she felt her skirt inching up her thighs. She felt hands almost teasingly explore her stockinged legs, her rear, and slip between her legs to brush at the lips of her vagina through the thin material of her panties.

There was nothing she could do except drool and grunt and twist and cry and hurt, hurt, hurt.

Finally the stopped and she felt the rope loosen on her ankles. The stood her up outside the van and she was walked along, held upright by rough hands. Her feet crunched on grass and gravel. She heard a door open and she was led down some stairs. Drafts swirled around her, and she found herself shivering, and not just from the cold.

Yes, it seemed as if every decision she had made today led her here. "Welcome to your new home, babe," she heard a voice say. Her blindfold was rudely ripped away.

Toni looked around at hell.

She was in a large room. The walls were stone and the floor was poured cement, heavily stained by substance she did not want to think about.

All along the ceiling, placed here and there, hung pulleys. One was hanging directly over her head.

To her right was a large wooden table, ropes at two corners; two other ropes at the opposite end wrapped around a huge wooden cylinder.

Here was a chair, the seat like a V laid on its side, the back hard wooden panels. Straps seemed to spring everywhere from the seat.

Over there was something that looked like one of her father's sawhorses, except larger. A pulley hung over it as well, and there were round eyelets set in the concrete at either side.

The walls were hung with items about which there could be no doubt: whips, clamps, gags and other torture devices. Another wall was hung with hoses and large canvas sacks.

"Don't worry, babe, we'll be glad to demonstrate anything you don't understand," said the man who had held the gun. "My name is Nick, and that is Ed," he pointed to the other man who was busy rummaging through her purse. He handed her wallet to Nick. "And you're Toni. Please to meet you, Toni, real pleased. You don't have to talk, just drool extra. That's considered polite around here. If it's too hard to remember our names, you can call either of us sir or master."

Nick took some leather cuffs off of the wall can came around behind her. With relief she felt him unlock the handcuffs. Her wrists felt raw. Expertly he strapped a leather cuff on each wrist. The cuff was broad and slightly padded. For some reason the padding only frightened her more. She heard a click.

Bringing her hands in front of her she studied the broad black cuffs and noted that each had been padlocked to her wrists. "That's right, Toni, think of them as your only permanent clothing," said Nick.

She reached for her gag, but Ed stepped forward and quickly twisted her arm behind her.

"Don't do ANYTHING without being told to, bitch!" he hissed. His face was alongside hers, his chin almost resting on her shoulder. She could smell his stale breath.

"Get the spreader," said Nick.

Ed went to a chest and came back with a long metal bar, rings on each end, and one in the middle. He clipped a snap shut on the middle ring that was attached to the rope that dangled from the pulley above.

Together Nick and Ed forced Toni's wrists inexorably upward and outward. Producing two more snaps, they clipped her wrist straps to either end of the bar. Her arms were suspended, although not uncomfortably, above her head.

The struggle had left her breathing heavily. Her breath came hissing out of her nose. Drool still spilled around the edges of her gag and dripped in large mucousy puddles on her blouse, plastering it to her chest.

Looking down she noticed how the spittle had made her blouse semi- transparent. You could see the lacy fringe of her bra cups through the white blouse. Nick produced two more cuffs from the ubiquitous box near the wall and cuffed them firmly around her ankles, permanently locking those in place as well.

Ed pulled two lengths of nylon rope from his pocket and dangled them in front of her eyes.

"These are nylon, babe. Nylon stretches. It's a safety precaution. See how good we are to you?"

Toni shook her head uncomprehendingly.

Ed passed a rope to Nick and bending down they both tied their cords to an eyelets on her ankle cuffs.

Moving to either side of her the two men threaded the ropes through huge eyebolts set in the concrete. The bolts were outrageously far apart.

They pulled on the cords and her legs were slowly dragged apart, making her still more open and vulnerable.

Toni had to almost hop as her feet were forced to duckwalk across the floor. One foot did buckle and she fell to her right.

She gasped through the gag as the wrist strap caught her fall, but as it did so, her other wrist shot up in the air. It stopped with a painful jerk as she reached equilibrium, sending a shockwave through her trembling shoulders.

"You really ought to try and be more careful, sweetmeat," said Nick, "we wouldn't want you to get hurt, unless we do the hurting." He laughed as he ran his hand up her calf to linger along the inside of her thigh, just under her dress. When her legs were spread achingly far apart, they both stopped and tied off the cords; leaving about eighteen inches of play between the bolts and her ankles.

Now she could feel what a strain this position would put on her shoulders and thighs if she were required to maintain it for long. And even now, she still had the freedom to move her arms slightly, and to shift her weight from leg to leg.

Nick went over to the wall and untied the length of cord that was threaded through the overhead pulley. For a moment the tension in her arms eased, but then Nick pulled down hard, and her arms returned to their former position and beyond.

The material of her blouse stretched tautly across her breasts and her skirt bit so deeply against her outer thighs that she imagined the fabric would make a thrumming sound if the hem were plucked.

"Hook up the winch," demanded Nick and Ed took the slack end of the rope and tied it to a metal device, all hooks and wheels and wire.

Toni looked at it uneasily, her eyes large and pleading. The room had gone from feeling quite cold to seeming unbearably warm, and she could feel a trickle of sweat run from her armpit down to be absorbed in the cotton of her bra.

The rope tied off, Ed went once more to the box and came back with a huge and menacing pair of shears.

"Time to see if the gift wrapping hides a first class gift or just a dud, babe, what do you say?" And he moved towards Toni with the tool.

"Show her how sharp they are," suggested Nick, proffering a sheet of newspaper. Ed slid the shears up the spine of the paper and without any pressure the paper parted nearly.

"Now, you little cunt," cautioned Nick, "I would advise you not to squirm too much. Ed has been know to get a little shaky at the sight of a tit and I don't want yours accidently cut off before I get my shot at them."

Ed started at her shoulder and cut the jacket down to the cuff, then reversed the procedure on the return up the seam of her blouse. Her blouse and jacket now hung from one shoulder, exposing the creamy whiteness of her flesh, and the strap and frilly top of her bra cup.

Toni hung her head in shame.

Ed quickly repeated his performance on her right arm and the jacket fell away. The blouse rested against the curve of her right breast, caught on the material of her bra. Ed ran a finger down her cleavage until it caught in the shredded blouse. With one pull, it fell to her waist. A few savage cuts and it too fell away.

Starting at the hem of her skirt Ed cut upwards. Toni could see that he had begun to shake with excitement as he exposed her body. On his upward thrust the shears brushed against her panties and she jerked backwards in fear, though not very far.

Nick laughed, "What're you trying to do, Ed, she's got enough holes for us right now." Toni knew -- in that moment -- that were it within her power to kill them both, she would. She doubted she would ever get the chance. Most probably it would be the other way around.

After removing her skirt, Ed quickly cut the crotch out of her panty hose. One leg of the sheer hosiery telescoped down to puddle about her ankle; the other clung to her thigh, and seemed as sheer devoid of support as it had before.

Toni felt a blush spread down her neck and inflame the soft mounds of her breasts. She was clothed now in only her bra and panties.

Drool continued to drip from her lips and Nick came forward to run his hands along the tops of her breasts, mounded invitingly in her bra, the constraining cotton of its material was tightened by her suspended position.

Back and forth he stroked the slick wetness of her spittle, all of which slid eventually down between her breasts. "Gimme those shears," he said.

Quickly he cut the center strap of her bra. Her breasts seemed to burst forth from their confinement. The bra swung outwards and her small breasts jiggled provocatively for a few moments. Her nipples were small symmetrical pink buds, erect from the shock of cold air and her fear.

"Did you ever notice how only the young chicks have nice pink nipples, Ed. God, I love having a nice young toy to play with." He ran his finger under her chin, coming up with a trail of saliva. he dabbed it on the tip of her nose.

Reaching downwards he slid one blade of the shear inside Toni's panties. She held her breath and involuntarily sucked in her stomach. The metal felt cool and hard against her pudendum.

"You look nice with a flat tummy, honey. I guarantee we'll keep your skinny figure. Nick and Ed don't let any of their girls get fat."

Two quick cuts and Toni hung limply in her bonds before them, naked. The soft down of her pubic hair forming a tiny rectangle at the very top of her otherwise hairless crotch.

She sucked in her breath when Nick slid a finger along the outer lips of her labia. "Prime pussy, Toni, you really are prime."

Reaching up he surprised her by unbuckling her gag. "No need for you to be quiet now honey, in fact, I just love to hear healthy young lungs at work."

She didn't need much imagination to figure out what he meant. The gag came out with a popping sound, and a last giant gob of saliva fell out and ran down her body. The liquid drooled down between her immature breast and all the way down between her legs to her bald cunny lips.

"You ready for lesson one, Toni?"

"Why are you doing this to me," she cried, her voice sounding even more shrill and uncontrolled than she though it would. Her jaws ached from the gag, and her lips, unaccountably, felt parched and dry.

"Why, Toni," said Ed pulling up a lawn chair in front of her, "because we like to." And saying that, he pulled down his fly and pulled out his already hardening penis. He stroked it absentmindedly.

At the wall Nick pulled on the lever of the winch. There was a terrifying ratcheting sound and Toni felt the bar pull tightly at her wrists. A second pull and she couldn't hold off the pressure by stretching her arms any longer.

The rope was beginning to pull her from the floor. Another turn and her eyes rolled as her feet slid inward until the stopped with a jerk at the end of the ropes.

Another pull and she was on tiptoes, a fire beginning at wrists, shoulders, and inside her thighs.

"Wait," she called panicked, "don't do this to me, please, please, please." Against her will, large glistening tears began to spill from her eyes.

"Why not, Toni?" asked Nick, almost affably.

"The way you have me, you can r--r--rape me, do anything to me, and I can't stop you."

"Hmmm, that's true. But you can't stop me from turning this crank again either, can you?"

"Please, it hurts so badly already, please don't. I'll s--suck you both, if that's what you want," she pleaded, trying to think like a man with a helpless woman might. Trying to think what he might want. "Please, please don't."

"Of course you'll suck us, Toni," his tone that of a parent entreating a truculent child. "After you've experienced a few more of the things we can do you, you'll do anything we want. But right now, you sweet little cunt, this is want I want to do."

Toni know she couldn't sop the pain. She looked at Nick, his hand on the lever, and then Ed directly in front of her still strolling his knobby penis, and she knew that should would suffer endless and horrible agony.

And there was nothing she could do about it, but scream and beg and plead... and hurt.

Her attention shot back to Nick as she heard the terrible sound of ratcheting again. Her suffering seemed to shoot off the scale as her feet left the floor.

A terrible moaning sound filled the room, and Toni took long moments to realize that the sound was coming from her lips. Her hair was flattened against her forehead and neck as sweat broke forth all over her body.

It ran in rivulets from her armpits, leaving bright streaks along her rib cage and flanks in the harsh light. Her shoulders ached dreadfully and the cuffs choreoid her wrists and ankles, even through the padding.

What more could they do to her? She was already hanging suspended by her wrists. Surely they would stop now.

Nick hit the crank once again. Her harrowing ordeal was not yet at an end. She began to doubt that it ever would be. The ropes were quite taut now. Her moans grew louder and her head tossed to and fro. It was the only movement she could make.

Large tears dripped down her cheeks and snot began to drip from her nose as her crying intensified. Ed smiled beneath his mask and rubbed his penis harder.

If it were not for the ratcheting sound, Toni might not have even been aware of what was causing her pain to increase.

On the next crank she felt all sensation slip into the joints of her shoulders and the straining muscles of her thighs. her breasts lay nearly flattened against her rib cage.

She was not even aware that she had begun to scream. Loud, tearing gasps of pain filled the room. Her shoulders twitched in spasmed suffering, but only the flesh of her breasts and rear quivered with the motion. Her head fell down on her shoulders.

Another turn and she could no longer scream. Her body was racked so cruelly that she could not draw breath. It felt as if she had received one of those stern smacks to her back that knock the wind out of you.

She fought and fought for each breath, fought in panic that she would not be able to draw any oxygen in, only to have that breath explode out of her in a ragged scream.

She was barely aware of Nick before her, pulling her head back with a yank on her hair, his index finger rubbing back and forth across her labia. He pinched her lips cruelly, but she did not yet have the breath to scream.

She soon did. She managed seven more horrible screams before she passed out.

"Christ, is she a strong girl," said Ed, cock still in hand.

"Yes, we can make her last a good long time," replied Nick.

He went back to the wall and eased off on the winch just the slightest bit. Ed fetched a bucket of water and threw it full in Toni's face.

She opened her eyes to renewed pain, though it seemed somehow less intense than before.

It was ironic, being in more pain than she could have imagined just a few short hours ago, and yet being grateful that it was not worse.

She raised her dripping head to see Nick standing before her, a wicked looking three braided whip in his hands.

"Time for another new experience, kiddo. Think of this whip as, well, meat tenderizer. We want to sample your meat, but we don't want it too tough. So we soften it up a little, see?"

Toni hung silent, breath was too precious to waste in a reply that would make no difference anyway. Comparing her to a hank of meat, with its frightening overtones of cannibalism rocked her with a new level of anxiety.

Nick hung the whip over her shoulder, its braids just lightly touching her left shoulder blade. The he dragged the whip gently forward. One by one the heavy braids slid from her shoulder down across her breast. She could feel the hard solidness of each braid as it dragged across her chilled and hardened nipple.

Nick swung the whip back and forth a few times. Then, standing off to her right he swung the whip in a vicious arc across her breast.

Nothing could have prepared her for the stabbing agony. She screamed once, twice, three times. Her head lolled as she pulled her already strained muscles into new contortions. But there could be no escape.

Moving, he next struck at her left breast. This time one of the braids caught her nipple. She was sure the tender flesh would be torn when she regained enough control to look, but it wasn't. Large reddened weals crisscrossed her breasts, but there was no blood, no split skin.

Next he brought the whip across her abdomen three times in quick succession. Her stomach muscles rippled in their fight to shrink away from the hideous flogging, but this part of her body also became striated with weals and welts.

Two cracks across her thighs followed, one curling back to kiss her rear, the other smashing against her pubic bone. It dug deep into her crotch, attacking the flesh stretched across her mons, making her flesh feel as if had been cut with a razor.

Tears ran from her eyes, her screams were a constant accompaniment to the sound of leather against flesh. Her salty tears mixed with sweat and ran through her cleavage. Sweat ran from every pore, bringing fresh hurt to every welt.

Nick moved behind and gave her five cuts to her back. Twice the whip curled around to strike at her already delicate breasts. Then he worked over the cheeks of her rear.

Nick's enthusiasm was unaffected by her anguished cries. Apparently, he loved whipping a young woman. His strength seemed to increase as her gasps grew louder and more miserable. And he continued to work the whip back and forth across the gentle swell of her ass.

Her flesh quivered, in spite of how tautly she was stretched. Welts sprang up in a criss-cross pattern on her pale white skin. Toni thought that she must be bleeding by now, but she was underestimating Nick. He had a very clear conception of just how much abuse a woman's ass could take.

Toni lost count of the strokes, and of her own agonized screams. She weakly lifted her head, and through the ringlets of her hair, which dripped with sweat before her eyes, she could see Ed still seated in front of her.

His cold eyes were locked on her sweating heaving body, and his hand was pumping his distended cock. Incongruously, he wore a warm smile on his lips. "You bastard," she groaned, barely able to recognize the horse voice that emerged as her own. "Let's not be impolite, Toni," cam Nick's voice from behind. His hand slid to her breast and he pinched her nipple between thumb and finger, rolling it back and forth. She felt the whip swishing gently between her thighs. "Can you guess where I'm going to whip you next?" he asked conversationally.

"No, No, please. Oh god! Not there! Please! Please!!!"

"Just remember one thing, sweetmeat -- no matter how bad it hurts, Uncle Nick can always make it hurt lots more." She heard the swish of the whip, it seemed louder than ever and she screamed in panic,

"No!! God NO!!! Anything!!! I'll do any--- AAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

The scream was torn from her lips. She was not even conscious of the spray of spittle that accompanied the roar. She did not see, as Ed did, how tiny droplets fell on his naked penis. The whip had swept upwards from behind.

One braided thong fell to either side of her vulva, causing her labia to pulse outward in shock, where the third braid just caught her right lip. Her mons throbbed with pain. Toni's pleading had become completely incoherent. She could feel a breeze as the whip swished lightly between her legs.

A second cut fell along the inside of her right thigh, leave three starburst welts, spreading up towards her waist, looking like some obscene panty line. "That's two times I missed, but don't worry, babe, I got the range now..."

"GOD!! NO!! NO!!! NO!!!!" she howled over and over again.

Nick drew back his arm and brought the whip forward in a vicious undercut. One braid again slid along each side of her vagina, but this time, the third braid expertly split the tender lips, traveled up the canal of her swollen labia so that the hard tip crashed against her clitoris.

The pain in her abdomen was almost as bad as the pain in her crotch, as her body instinctively tried to recede to a protective fetal position. Her abdominal muscles quivered in sculptured bas relief for just a second.

Incoherently she screamed, tossing her head back and forth, spraying droplets from her ringing wet hair. She gratefully felt consciousness ebb.

The last sight she saw as her eyes shut was a torrent of sperm bursting forth from the tip of Ed's straining penis, running down his hands. In an instant she passed out.

The End