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A soft moan
escaped her lips as her body started to stretch, the ropes around her wrists
pulling taut as a second rope, running between her wrists and up and around a
rafter, lifted her onto her toes. Her
head fell back and her breath quickened as her joints stretched and her wrists
chafed. Her breasts flattened against
her chest, her nipples hardening as she was lifted off her feet, a sublime ache
permeating her young body.
Her stomach
hollowed, exaggerating the curves on her slender 13 year old frame, her
buttocks full and firm.
"I have a
gift for you, slut."
Her eyes, fogged
with lust, focused on her master.
"Oh God." She licked
her lips, a shudder of desire running down her suspended body as she gazed upon
the cane.
"Would you
like me to use it? Would you like me to
beat you?"
"Please...please."
"So you want
me to beat you slut?"
"Oh God yes
God yes please."
He smiled and
started, bringing the cane down against her beautiful flesh, shining from the
sweat of her lust. He started on her
stomach, taut and hard because of her suspension, and, as she twisted and cried
out, attacked her breasts and nipples.
The cane, thin and flexible, whistled through the air as he struck her,
his garage filled with the sounds of her ragged breathing, her cries, her
moans, and the sound of the cane striking her young flesh.
He watched her
writhe in her bonds, marks from the cane spreading across her body as he kept
beating her, now focusing on her gorgeous ass and back, ignoring her long,
straight, light brown hair. Her moans
became louder, her breathing more ragged; he dropped the cane and stepped in
front of her, grabbing her slender thighs, wet with her juices, lifting them
even as she reached out with them to capture his hips, her ankles locking
around his back, pulling them together, his cock plunging into her in a single
stroke.
She screamed, and
her cunt spasmed around him; he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head
back brutally, her mouth pulling open, her eyes focused inward even as he bent
over her and kissed her hard, tasting her mouth and her moans as she came,
bucking and grinding against him. He
held on, keeping himself on edge, her body small and light against his, until
her body quieted, and she let out a long, low moan into his mouth as her legs
slipped down his thighs.
He grabbed her
thighs, sliding his hands down her legs as he lifted them up, until he was
grasping her slender ankles at his shoulders, her body jackknifed in mid-air,
still fully impaled on his cock.
"Oh
God," she moaned, her eyes gazing down at her body, at where they met.
Then he started
fucking, hard, brutally, slamming his hips against her upturned ass, drawing
sharp cries from her each time his cock punched against the back of her cunt,
the sound of flesh against flesh reverberating through the garage. Her head hung back, her hair, heavy with her
sweat, flying about beneath her; he felt her shudder and shake and her young,
teenaged cunt clamp down on his cock as if trying to keep it from leaving. Again she came, and again, and finally, a
fourth time and he couldn't hold it, the sight of this young girl, her fresh,
nubile body, her uncontrolled passion, his domination of her, her grasping,
clutching, spasming cunt was too much, and he came, his cum splashing into her.
She was kneeling
in front of him while he leaned against his workbench, her soft mouth around
his cock, caressing it, cleaning it, bringing it back to life. Her hands, still bound in front of her, were
at her crotch, her fingers playing with her clit as he commanded, keeping her
ready for him. As she slid her throat
down his cock, her lips meeting the base of him, she rolled her eyes up to him
in adoration; she loved him, as only a 13 year old girl could.
Her body was
pressed, face down, into the hard, concrete floor of the garage, her body
covered by his, her breasts crushed beneath her, her stomach and thighs and
arms scraping against the unyielding surface as he pounded his cock into her
ass. She writhed against the floor,
against him, greedy for the pain and the pleasure that was consuming her
body. Her mind drifted into a maelstrom
of sensation as her body flushed and spasmed in another orgasm, her muscles
involuntarily clenching, cramping, pain exploding out from it, ripping a scream
from her throat and another orgasm from her body and it went on and on and on.
Finally it
stopped, and she was left panting and sweating and spent on the ground as his
cock popped out of her ass.
"You should
get home, poppet, it's past 1. I'll see
you tomorrow, midnight, as usual."
"Yes
sir."
------------------------------------
My master told me
to keep this log, and to start from the beginning, and to pretend that I didn't
know what was going to happen. When I
asked him when the beginning was, he smiled and said it was at the barbecue
last summer, just a month before I started high-school. Thinking back, I remember that my father
invited a few friends and neighbors, and I invited a few of my friends,
including my best friend, Kaley.
We were all
hanging out away from the adults when Kaley brought up Brooke. Brooke was very big news. Just a week before she had been found
wandering around in the woods, naked and beat up, and three guys from the
high-school had been arrested for rape.
We were all gossiping about it, wondering if they had really done it and
what had been done to her and if she had deserved it or asked for it. Kaley was our inside girl, since her brother
was friends with one of the suspects.
I remember she
started talking about pictures that one of the guys had taken of her on his
cell phone. None of us could believe
it--pictures! And all of us wanted to
see them. Kaley denied she had seen
them, but said they were brutal. We
continued to gossip, Kaley in the center of everything, her eyes shining as she
recounted various scandalous things she had heard about Brooke.
Kaley is my best
friend and has been since we were in first grade. She's a tiny girl, only about four-nine and
eighty lbs or so, and sometimes the other girls tease her about having the body
of a boy (except for her long, straight blond hair, which she always wears
pulled back into a ponytail); they never tease her for long--she can be a real
bitch, and is always in charge or in the center of things.
So we're
gossiping, and I remember starting to totally obsess about those pictures; I
mean, I really, really wanted to see them.
I kept asking her if she had seen them, and if she could get them, and
wondering what was on them, until she started to tease me about being a sicko
and a perv.
My master says
that this is when he first noticed me; he said I had a look in my eyes when we
were talking about Brooke.
Nothing really
happened until the next day. I should
explain something. My dad and our
neighbor, Mr. Cameron, both work at the same company, and he's got a pool. He's been letting me and my friends use it
whenever we want since I was 10, and lets us use his kitchen and bathroom, so
I've got a key. He's cool. Kaley thinks he's hot, but he's old, not as
old as my dad, but at least 30.
So, the next day,
Sunday, me and Kaley were hanging out by the pool, and Mr. Cameron was sitting
at a lawn table working on his computer, when she called me over and pulled out
her laptop. We both huddled over the
laptop, keeping the sun off the screen, keeping our voices down because she was
clearly about to show me something secret, when she pulled up THE pictures.
They were of
Brooke, and oh my god they were brutal.
There were only four, and they weren't that clear, but I couldn't take
my eyes off them. I remember when Kaley
showed me the first one I couldn't believe it; it was of Brooke, senior Brooke,
kneeling naked in the woods, her arms behind her, tears streaking her cheeks,
her full breasts marked and bloody, her flat stomach pulled in and
criss-crossed with welts, the front of her thighs also marked up. God, it was unbelievable. Kaley kept zooming into different parts of
the picture, going on and on about how fucked up "the bitch" was, and
what a job they had done on her.
I don't remember
much except that I was obsessed; every mark on her body seemed to make my heart
pound harder, and my breathing quicker.
I didn't know what I was feeling, but I couldn't look away. The next picture was a view from partly
behind her, showing her bent over a log, her hands tied behind her back; and
somebody was clearly fucking her, but you could only see his hips and ass. I remembering shuddering, the only words I
could say were 'oh my god'.
Kaley was
similarly obsessed, zooming around the picture, pointing out to me every little
degradation that Brooke must have suffered, pointing out that he 'must be
fucking her ass'.
The third picture
showed her across the log again, but it was a closeup of her crotch, her ass
and the back of her thighs covered in welts, and thick branches jutting a
couple inches out of both her pussy and ass.
It must have hurt so much; it was so brutal. I couldn't stop thinking about how brutal,
how humiliating, how painful it must have been.
I remember Kaley was talking but I couldn't hear her through the
pounding in my head. I remember gripping
the top of my thighs with my hands as I leaned in close to Kaley.
The fourth
picture, the fourth picture showed Brooke on her back, her arms still bound
behind her back, her back arched off the ground, her feet flat on the ground
and her thighs wide as a huge branch was being shoved into her cunt. You could see the hands of one of the boys on
one of the the branch as he seemed to be lifting her up by her cunt.
I remember the
only thing Kaley had to say about that picture was 'Damn.' We must both have been looking at it for a
while because when I looked up I saw Mr. Cameron looking at us. I flushed in embarrassment, coming out of a
haze, stood up, and jumped in the pool.
I made Kaley promise to send copies of the pictures to my secret e-mail
address.
------------------------------------
She stood in
front of him in his garage, dressed in one of her old cheerleading uniforms,
the top molded to her body, emphasizing her young breasts, leaving her belly
exposed; the skirt too small, coming down to mid-thigh. She stared intently at the belts in his hands
as he ran his eyes over her body, anticipation making her quiver. Her breathing quickened as he approached her,
and she gasped as he slapped her across the face.
"Oh
God."
"Kneel,
slut."
She knelt on the
concrete, her feet together, her naked buttocks resting on her heels, her knees
apart, her skirt riding up her thighs, the cloth dipping between her spread
legs. He walked behind her and pulled
her arms behind her back, gripping her painfully, pulling a soft moan from her
lips. The strap tightened around her
elbows, drawing them together, pain radiating out from her shoulders. His hands pulled her wrists together and her
wrists were similarly bound; she began to pant with lust as the ache in her
shoulders intensified.
"Down."
He accompanied
his command with a kick to her back, knocking her down. He kept pressing until she was flat on the
hard concrete floor, her breasts flattened beneath her. She moaned, a soft, long moan of desire.
"Crawl to
the drain, slut."
So she crawled on
her belly, her arms bound behind her, the breasts dragging over the concrete,
grit and grime digging into her thighs and stomach, her top tearing at her tits
as she dragged herself across the ground, sharp cries of pain followed by deep
moans as her sexual excitement grew.
"Turn
over. Feet flat."
She had reached
the drain, and painfully rolled over, a sob of pain and lust as her weight came
to rest on her bound arms. She placed
her feet on the ground, near her ass, her knees bent, her skirt falling around
her hips, exposing her cunt and ass to his eyes. She looked up at him, her heart beating hard,
her mind swirling with lust, her breathing rapid. He had stripped, his cock semi-erect as he
stood between her legs, towering over her.
Surprise, shock,
and then lust washed through her as she watched a stream of urine come from his
cock, striking her breasts, splashing onto her face, the acrid smell of piss
filling her nostrils, coating her lips, soaking her top. Her nipples, hard already, seemed to harden
even more, her whole body shuddering and arching as the stream struck her face,
filling her moaning mouth with piss, running out from between her lips, the
taste burning, humiliating, degrading her as she writhed on the hard concrete.
The stream slid
down her body, across her stomach, soaking her skirt, to splatter against her
spread cunt.
"Ohgodohgodohgodogod"
she moaned, her hips bucking upwards and rolling erotically as if welcoming a
lover, her eyes open but seeing nothing as pleasure blasted through her, making
her young body jerk lewdly on the floor until finally she collapsed, panting
with release.
She lay there,
lost in her degradation, the smell of his urine strong, her top and skirt warm
and clinging with his piss, making her feel dirty, slutty, worthless except as
his slave. She started, arching up as a
hard stream of cold water struck her stomach, bringing her out of her reverie,
making her shiver with cold. She closed
her eyes as he continued to spray her down like an animal, her lust reignited
as he brought the stream against her cunt.
He watched as she
bucked her hips up against the stream of water digging into her cunt, tearing
at her clit. It was like she was fucking
an imaginary lover, her breaths coming in gasps as she brought herself closer
and closer to orgasm. He waited until
she was close and moved the stream to her breasts, the stream digging into her
soft flesh, her face dripping water. He
played the stream over her teenaged body for a good ten minutes, teasing her
with its uncaring brutality, beating her flesh with the stream until she was
writhing and bucking and moaning in lust.
He fell on top of
her, his body crushing her beneath him, his cock plunging into her warm,
welcoming, spasming cunt, a scream torn from her throat as she came. He pounded brutally into her, trying to drive
himself through her, his lips locked on hers as she panted and moaned. Her legs lifted around his hips, her ankles
locking behind his back as she greedily pulled herself into him; she came, and
then came again and he couldn't keep from cumming, filling her young belly with
cum as pleasure burned through him.
He had cum in her
mouth, her arms still bound behind her, and had made her show him his own cum
before allowing her to swallow it. She
had wanted him to fuck her again, but she was his to do with as he
pleased. She shuddered in lust at that
thought as she climbed back through her window.
------------------------------------
My father has
installed kid-spy software on all of our computers, so I really can't share
secrets on email or chat; luckily, both Kaley and Mr. Cameron let me use their
computers, so I keep a secret email address (xxxxxx) for all the juicy stuff
from my friends. The next day was
Monday, so Mr. Cameron was at work, and I couldn't keep my mind off of those
pictures of Brooke. As soon as I could,
I put on my bikini and headed over to my neighbor's pool, texting Kaley, asking
if she had sent THEM yet.
As I waited, I
reclined by the pool, my eyes closed against the sun, letting my mind
drift. I remember that I couldn't help
but think about those pictures. They
were so dark, so brutal; Brooke looked so tortured, so humiliated, so
broken. The images ran through my mind,
and I imagined what led up to them, but instead of Brooke, it was me. It was me lying across a trunk, the rough
bark tearing at my tender skin, my wrists burning from the bonds cutting into
them, screams being torn from my throat as the boys took turns beating my ass
and thighs with switches. And then
quiet, except for my sobs, before one of them grabbed me by my hips and shoved
himself into my ass.
The images in my
mind switched, and now I was laying on my back, exhausted, beaten, aching, my
arms still bound behind me, my legs spread wide; I think they are done with me;
I think it's all over. Then shock as one
of them steps on my neck, and another on my stomach, pinning me down; shock as
I feel another thick branch against my pussy, and I begin to cry in humiliation
and pain as it is shoved into me, tearing my insides. The other boys release me, and the one with
the branch in me began to move it around, moving me about like a puppet, making
my hips thrust up and down and back while the others looked and laughed.
I remember what I
was thinking because for the first time in my life my body seemed to be burning
with lust, although I didn't recognize it at the time.
My phone ringing
shocked me out of my thoughts: Kaley's
message read, "Sent them last night.
Enjoy :)".
I jumped up and
practically ran into Mr. Cameron's living room, where he keeps one of his
computers. I logged into my secret email
account and there they were; bigger, clearer, more detailed. The pictures.
I remember pulling them up one by one, staring at them, my mind hazing
over, one hand on the mouse and the other clenching my thigh. I don't know how long I was sitting there,
but I do know that I was staring at the last picture, the picture of Brooke
impaled and controlled by the branch, when it happened.
I don't remember
what happened next, because I only really remember what I felt: panic, fear, uncertainty, humiliation, desire
-- god the desire became so powerful. My
master tells me that this is what happened:
I practically
jumped out of the chair when I felt a hand grip my shoulder; I tried
desperately to hide the picture, but another hand covered my hand on the
mouse. It was Mr. Cameron, practically
holding me in place, his face next to mine as I opened my mouth to explain, my
body tense and my heart racing with panic.
"That's my
favorite, too."
I didn't say
anything; I was in shock.
He took his hand
off of my shoulder and pointed at the screen, "You see how her back is
arched, how the muscles in her ass are clenched? See there?
How he's holding the branch? He's
forcing her into that position--she must be in agony."
"Mr.
Cameron, I'm ..."
My master thinks
I was going to apologize, but I don't even remember that I said anything.
"What would
your father say if he knew you were looking at these?"
I must have been
on the verge of panic; he would have killed me.
"Please, please Mr. Cameron ...". He let me dangle there for what seemed like
forever.
"Does it
turn you on?"
My master says
that my face registered shock at this question.
I stammered something, and then I remember pain as he grabbed the back
of my neck and squeezed, demanding.
"I asked, do
these pictures turn you on?"
"I... I
don't know."
He says I blushed
red as he swept his eyes over my body, covered only in a bikini, coming to rest
at my crotch.
"That damp
spot on your crotch says you are."
My master said
that he had never seen such a mortified expression on anybodies face, ever,
than mine when I looked down at myself and saw my bikini bottoms, soaked with
my girl-juice.
"So, are you
the one holding the branch, or the one receiving the branch?"
He was leaning
over me now, his forearm resting on my shoulder, he face next to mine, facing
the picture. I had my hands in my lap,
my head down, like I was trying to disappear.
"Amy?",
he repeated himself, "holding or receiving?"
In a whisper,
"Receiving."
I remember the
next part; his hand was on my breast, covering it and my bikini top completely,
and he started squeezing. Pain flooded
through me, but also desire, and I gasped.
It seemed to go on forever, his hand, the pressure, the pain, the
desire, my heart pounding in my head, my breaths coming shallower and
shallower, my mind spinning.
And then he let
me go and stood up.
"I have to
get back to my study and do some work.
Sneak out of your room and meet me here at midnight tonight and I won't
have to mention this to your father, and maybe you'll be able to experience
just a little of what she's receiving."
------------------------------------
She straddled his
body, her cunt engulfing him, her hips grinding and lifting in small circles,
her hands flat against his chest as he reclined in an easy chair. Her hair hung down over her face, sweat
covering her body as small moans escaped between her panting. A small, plaid skirt covered their groins,
brushing against his pubis whenever she ground into him. A small bell, attached by a strong clip to
her right breast, jingled constantly with her motions. Her eyes were lidded,
her vision turned inward as she felt every inch of his cock inside her,
stretching her, grinding against her cervix.
Her muscles ached from exhaustion and her ass still throbbed and burned
from the paddling she had received almost an hour ago. She had already come 5 times.
When she had
arrived he had made her strip and put on a plaid skirt that barely covered her
ass. He had sent her to his room to get
the paddle, a tool slightly larger than a ping-pong paddle with holes drilled
in it, and made heavy by the metal studs set in it. Without a word he had pulled her down across
his lap as he sat in his easy chair and started beating her. He had been relentless, beating her firm
young ass until his arm tired, until she was sobbing deep, heaving sobs at the
pain, until her ass was a mass of dark bruises.
Then he had switched sides and used his other arm until that too was
exhausted.
When he was done,
he had to practically lift her up, she was in such a state, tears streaking her
face. He placed her over him, and told
her to place his cock inside her. Still
sobbing, she had reached down, her small hands encircling his cock, and guided
it into her cunt. He watched her face as
she slid down on him, her lips parting in a silent 'O', her body shuddering as
she flattened her groin against his, his cock pressing hard into her cervix,
her expression transformed as her thighs shook and she came. He took a small bell and clipped it to her
breast.
He had been
instructing her for the last hour, teaching her how to use her body and her
cunt for him. He had told her to grind
her hips in slow, teasing circles, pulling halfway off his cock as she pulled
her ass back. The bell was to jingle
constantly, her firm young breasts kept in constant motion. Once she had mastered that, his hands
instructing her, slowing her down, speeding her up, showing her how to rotate
her hips, he had started to teach her how to use her cunt. As she slid his cock out of her, she was to
tighten her cunt; releasing it to receive him back in. Tighten, release, tighten, release, broken
only by her orgasms.
He had already
come in her once, telling her not to stop.
As he watched her, lost in her own pleasure, he grew close again. His neighbor girl, his 13-year old neighbor
girl: slim, lithe, beautiful, sexy. She was his, his plaything, his toy, his sweet,
sweet slutty little masochist. She
joined him in his orgasm, collapsing on top of him, her small body hot against
his as she drifted off into sleep.
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