This is a story of fiction, imagination, and fantasy. The author does not condone any of the things that happen in this story.

Ryoko ran around the house. Tall for an asian due to her long legs, 12 years old, she ran to the back door that led to the basement and knocked, her short straight black hair wet from the rain.

The door opened, she went inside. There were three other girls there. Annie, and Karin, both eleven, and Lizzie, twelve, who was in Ryoko's class. They had been friends since third grade.

"So what's so important?" she asked. A special meeting like this was rarely called, and Lizzie had sounded very urgent.

With the girls in the basement room, sworn to secrecy, Lizzie began. Annie's little 8 year old sister, Toni, had been beaten up by a bully. Not just any bully: it was Jerry Simmons, a 14 year old 9th grader who was always causing trouble.

The story went further: this was not just a skinned knee or stolen lunch money. Little Toni was in the hospital, with a broken leg, broken nose, black eye, a concussion, and a big cut on her arm that had to have lots of stitches. Her summer would be ruined, and she might have to go to school on crutches in August.

Why was not really important, but Annie took over the meeting with the story as best as she could get it. The story, combined from Toni's narrative following her hospital admission and tests, and from an elderly neighbor who was looking out her window and called the police, but could not identify the perpetrator, was this: Toni was walking home from the corner store after buying some candy. She had rounded a corner and there was Jerry Simmons, standing by a wall. Apparently, Jerry tried to get money from the little girl but, only eight, had only a few cents' change. Jerry had beaten the little girl mercilessly, dragging her to the other side of the wall, cutting her arm deliberately with a piece of glass, and beating her with his fists and feet before taking off the girl's pants and throwing them over a tree limb.

Jerry of course had an alibi: both his mother and her boyfriend claimed that he was in their mobile home at the time, listening to music. But that Tony had identified him was enough for the girls; everyone knew Jerry Simmons the bully, who had become a terror to two neighborhoods since the only older male teen had joined the Army.

The girls were fair. They ignored his past until they were all convinced it was true. They even visited little Toni in the hospital, two at a time, each kissing her cheek. The girls met again. The bully had gone too far. He was going to get punished.

They spent three weeks preparing, during which Jerry did not spend one hour in jail. Oh, the family wanted to press charges, but an 8-year-old against a teenager with an alibi was not going to get a conviction. Even the police were frustrated, but the District Attorney could not bring charges without evidence.

At the next meeting, this time in Ryoko's Dad's Karate School, in the girls' dressing room, it was decided. The police could not get rid of the boy, because the laws they were sworn to uphold would not allow it. He would be punished by them. They agreed to make and follow their own rules. Jerry broke rules all the time, but if a girl broke one of her own rules, she would be no better than him.

* * * * *

Karen's uncle, a Code Enforcement Officer for the City, knew every vacant property in town. It didn't take much for Karen to find a secluded abandoned house with a detached garage in back, far from neighbors and with weeds grown up all around. The garage was of concrete block, with a solid roof, operational walk-through door, and a sturdy garage door that was stuck in the down position. Over the next week they prepared the garage, sneaking in and out, providing a few lanterns to hang in the corners, clearing out what little bit of junk there was, and sweeping the floors, which fortunately had not had a car on it in a long time. Often, only one or two girls could participate due to family activities. They spent considerable money, for eleven-and-twelve-year-olds, buying the few simple things they'd need.

Luring him was easy. Lizzie, a blonde, borrowed an inexpensive red wig, used some makeup and sunglasses, and put together an outfit that said "Teen whore" consisting of a very short skirt, bare waist, thong showing in the back, a tank top, and no bra. She was chosen because she had the biggest boobs of any of them. The disguise was excellent.

The day came, a Saturday when the girls were supposedly going to have a party at the house of a friend. The friend would cover for them, certainly, even though they weren't going to be there. She didn't know why and didn't care. "Yeah, sure, anyone asks, I'll tell them you were here all night," the thirteen year old girl said. Of course, if a parent called, two of the girls had cell phones to facilitate the checking-up on them.

Ryoko checked the floor one last time. She was wearing snug but stretchy pants and a t-shirt. Lizzie dressed like a whore, having other clothes handy. Annie and Karen in their jeans and t-shirts. Karen's t-shirt was long-sleeved.

Stupid Jerry didn't recognize Lizzie and she managed to lure him down the street, behind the mostly-vacant houses, up the overgrown sidwalk, and into the garage, promising him a blowjob and maybe more.

The door closed. Two girls turned on lanterns and picked up their weapons, a baseball bat and a billy club. The boy turned as Lizzie stepped out of the way, and then the boy went down. Ryoko had kicked him in the leg and, when he fell, in the head, following with a hand-strike right to his head. He stood, and she let him. Not because it was wise to let an enemy regain his feet, but because she wanted him a bit less mobile.

The boy cursed, trying to inhale, and stubbornly used up most of his oxygen standing before he could regain his breath. Another kick to the other leg, on the outside of the thigh, cramping his leg. He grabbed at her and she stepped aside and threw him to his back. Stunned, he watched her foot arc very high before coming down on his sternum.

He rolled over and lost consciousness.

* * * * *

Jerry Simmons regained consciousness slowly, and realized where he was. The girls (Lizzie had changed into jeans and removed her wig) were standing in front of him. He realized two things: that he could not move, and that he was naked save for his white briefs.

"Let me go you bitches!" he said, and then recognized Lizzie, Toni's sister. They just looked at him for a bit. His left wrist was chained to one of the garage door supports, his right wrist to the other, stretching his arms up and wide. He was helpless. Worse, Karen had taken a three-foot length of aliminum pipe, ran a long chain through it, put it between his ankles, and chained each ankle to an end of the pipe. Padlocks, and one combination lock, held the boy immobile. They had of course carefully tested everything.

"You fuckin' bitches, I didn't beat up your little sister!"

"Right," Annie said. "and we didn't put you like this. We just happend by. In fact, in a little while, we will never have been here."

"So what you gonna do," he growled, "leave me here like this?"

"Yes, Annie said. "Later. First we'll teach you a lesson."

"Fuck you, bitch! Let me go, fuckin' . . ."

Ryoko jabbed a two fingers, one supporting the other, into the hollow of his throat. "Shut up," she said simply.

The girls brought a small folding table nearby as the bully choked and tried to cuss and wheezed and worked his wrists, even trying to lift his ankles, unable to move them much. With the bar pulling his legs apart, of course, his body was lowered which stretched his arms even more.

"You can't do this to me, it's illegal." He gasped.

"Oh, there's a new one," one of the girls said. "Like beating and torturing a little girl."

"She should have had some money. It was your fault, Annie, not letting her have more money. Or your stupid cheap mother's .... Uhhhhhhhh!"

Ryoko poked his throat again, harder. The girls nodded; it was good enough, for them to be a confession.

Lizzie decided to put a stop to his shouting. It would have been fun to make him beg and cry, and they might do it, but for now he was too noisy. Ryoko, either the kinkiest of the girls, or perhaps just the most well informed, had constructed her own ball gag from a dog collar and a big rubber ball. Lizzie walked behind him, his height being no more than hers now as his legs were spread, Ryoko, in rubber hospital gloves, grabbed his ball through his briefs, and the ball gag was buckled in, very tightly.

"Speech is now impossible," Ryoko announced.

Ryoko then, having done much of the work, sat in a chair and occupied herself with going through his clothes. Two knives, a wad of one- and five-dollar bills, a couple of twenties, and some change. A couple of keys. A comb with two teeth broken out. A package of cigarettes. A butane lighter. A joint, partly burned. By now all the girls had double-gloved, as Lizzie said, because they didn't want to touch him with their skin. Ryoko pocketed the money.

"Why is it," she asked, "that most kids run around with some jingling change, and their parents work, while welfare bums who won't work one lick run around with wads of cash?"

Ryoko then, to Jerry's consternation, began methodically cutting up his clothes with a pair of scissors, while he squirmed and growled and, realizing he'd have nothing to wear out of here, even looked a little pleading. They all laughed, just as he had laughed when torturing the little Toni. He made muffled curses, and occasionally pleas, through the ball gag which, of course, were completely unintelligible.

While Ryoko reduced Jerry's clothes to a bag full of shredded cloth, Karin spoke to him, almost as a script, not with anger, but as a schoolteacher scolding or instructing a negligent student.

"You stole a little girl's money. The poor girl couldn't do anything against you and you beat her anyway. You broke her leg and cut her and even you know what you did to him."

Jerry fought and squirmed and Ryoko got up and walked closer, threatening him with her very presence. He quieted down and listened, still trying to work his wrists free.

"Then you got your drunken mother and her pot-smoking leach of a boyfriend to lie for you. The little girl is in the hospital and her summer is ruined and she's scarred for life. You have earned everything you're getting," she added.

"Not such a big dangerous boy with his hands chained, is he, girls?"

"Yeah, when he's not beating up little children,"

"Well, shall we begin?"

Cold water was put into a bowl. Two disposable plastic razors were laid out with a can of Colgate shaving cream. The green menthol kind. Scissors cut the briefs off leaving the boy naked and, though embarassed, angry. The girls checked their gloves.

"We can do this one of three ways," Karen announced. "One, we can knock the shit out of you and do it while you're hanging. Two, we can do it while you're thrashing around and you'll get cut. On your balls. And your dick. Bad, perhaps. Or three, you stand very very still and take your medicine like a man. A man which you are not. And you might know that there is a stick right behind you with oil on it, and we'll shove it right up your ass if you give us any trouble."

Jerry, furious at the humiliation of having his pubes shaved off, for that is what he thought his punishment was, vowed in his mind to get revenge.

Somewhat later, with only one or two scratches, Jerry the bully stood spread out, his dick rather shriveled up looking, his pubis, belly, armpits, and legs shaved clean. Toward the end the razors had started to become dull, and many of the hairs were pulled out rather than shaved off.

The most bothersome thing was that the bully was drooling out of his ball-gag, being unable to swallow.

"Not very smooth," Lizzie observed. "But naked. Like a little eight year old boy. Pervert's getting what he deserves.

Jerry was still angry, though wisely holding still, the humiliation of allowing the girls to do this only making him angrier. His fists were clenching open and closed in the chains. Ryoko, of course, noticed this and decided to calm him down a bit.

The lot fell to Lizzie to perform the next honors.

Still gloved, she put oil on a broom handle. A big broom handle. She walked behind the bully. Just as he realized what she was going to do, and started to jerk and squirm, she pushed the stick between his buttcheeks, found his anus, and with both hands began to ram it it, right up to the mark Karin had painted around the handle. She worked it around some. The boy was jerking and trying to scream through the gag.

"Fuck me, punk? Hey, fuck YOU," Lizzy told him.

"Let's put nails in the wood," someone suggested. "So it'll tear up his insides and he'll have to go to the hospital and a doctor will have to put his hand up there."

The boy shed his first tear.

Karin, however, was looking right at his shaved balls. "He thinks he has balls. He thinks it takes balls to beat up little children. I think we'll show him just what balls are good for."

A plastic cable tie was looped around the bully's nutsack, right at the top. It was pulled taught, painful but bearable. Karin was in charge of this, too.

Now we'll see if this boy can show some sensitivity. I bet he can," she said. She flicked his nutsack with her gloved finger; the boy howled. "See? Get the skin tight around them and every touch feels like it's ten times more."

And to prove her point, Karen backed up and kicked the boy right in the nuts.

Jerry almost passed out, hard enough to breathe through the ballgag and now his nuts were hurting.

"Shit, his dick ain't all that big," Lizzie was saying. He can't even get it up. I bet that's why he's so mean."

From the box on the table, Annie had taken a candle. She lit it with Jerry's own lighter. She approached. Ryoko took some tongs, the kind you turn hot-dogs with on a grill. Cheap metal tongs from a grocery store. She held his cock and he jerked and screamed. Lizzie was still working the broom handle in the screaming boy's rectum.

"I bet if we burn it, he won't be using it on anyone any time soon."

And Annie held the candle over his dick, letting the red wax drip onto the boy's circumsized cock. He howled as the candle got closer, because the wax was hotter the closer it got, not being cooled by the trip from the candle to the skin. She made sure she got it on the head of his dick, too.

Then, Ryoko still having the tongs, the dick only about 2 inches long when soft, Annie ran the candle flame right up the slit under the boy's circumsized dickhead. He nearly passed out again, and looked like he might puke.

Then came the stick. It was just an old cheap fishing rod, without a reel, the eyes cut off the rod, made of some kind of fibreglass. Lizzie had broken it long ago and kept it in their junk room. Now it would come in handy. Karin, too had a stick: it was an old CB radio antenna with the magnetic base twisted off. Holding onto the little cylinder at the end would make another good switch, though slower, it would sting. The two girls were making their way behind the bully, who didn't look so dangerous now. He was crying, sniffing, trying to breathe through his nose, trying to speak through the home-made ball gag which, to the girls' delight, he could not push out.

Lizzie took up a position to his right side, Karin to his left. They would take turns. The bully looked both ways, eyes wide, knowing whatever they were doing woud hurt. He was right. Lizzie struck first, across his ass, followed by Karin. His shouts over and over could be heard, muffled by the gag, the chains clanking, as they whipped is ass and then, as Karin had suggested, she having been switched before as a little girl, stinging, cutting strikes down the backs of Jerry's thighs. They went on for about five minutes, each of them throwing at least thirty swats. They stopped, changed sides, and went on for another five minutes, his buttocks and thighs bleeding in places, red whelts over red whelts.

After that, they rested while Ryoko and Annie took over, Ryoko to his right and Annie to the left, swatting his chest, abdomen, and thighs. They mercifly, by plan, avoided his genitals. While they were switching sides (so he could get both devices striking both sides of him), Annie speculated that, if they swatted his dick, they could knock the dried wax off of it. He moaned, jerking a little, too tired and weak to do much. The bully was truely nauseated.

Karin also speculated that he might never get a hard on again, as the burns from the hot wax, and the burn on the underside of his organ, might forever scar, preventing the skin from stretching. The other girls hadn't thought of that.

Another five minutes of beating the fronts of his thighs, and his chest and abdomen. He was a mass of criscrossed stripes, mostly horizontal, and whelts, some bleeding.

When he was nearly hanging, Ryoko walked behind him and unbuckled his gag. He was warned not to scream or curse or yell at them, or the gag would go back in and his balls would pay for his disobedience. He looked at them and his mouth opened and shut. His jaw ached. He was slobbering. He gasped for breath. He nearly puked.

"You gonna ever beat up any little kids?" Annie asked him.

He looked at her, crying, his shaved cock burning and hurting, his skin a disaster, and begged her: "Please, please no more. Please let me go. Please. I'll give you anything. Please let me go. I can get you cigarettes, beer, pot, money, whatever you want. Just no more ..."

Annie got up close to him. He cringed. The bully's bravery was gone in the face of a greater force than himself. "My little sister wants her summer back."

"She's got next summer, come on, let me go, no more!"

* * * * *

By now it was after midnight. The girls took a break, knowing he could not escape. If that had been possible he would have gotten loose by now. They walked outside for cokes. They took off their hospital gloves.

"Wow, he's hurt bad." "I don't feel sorry for him." "Me neither. He threatened to rape me last year." "He picked on me in grade school." "And no one's ever done anything about it." "He destroyed my report once, tore it all up. It cost me a whole grade to do it all over again." "Yeah, and it was your fault because you didn't have a copy of it." "That's what he said when he broke Jimmy Harris's glasses. Should have had another pair. The stupid teacher agreed."

"I want to cut off his balls." Ryoko said. It was Ryoko he'd threatened to rape.

"No, no amputations, except hair, remember?" Annie said. Annie was the one who was most adamant about following their rules: no permanant injuries, no body parts cut off."

"Yeah yeah, I'm not going to, of course. But I'd like to."

"Notice, though," Karin said, "that after all that talk, he never once promised not to hurt anyone, not even a kid."

"Hmmmmm," mused Annie. "Maybe we'd better render him unable to do it, at least for a while."

"Break his arm, his right one," Karin said. "He can't fight without both arms."

"He's left handed," observed Lizzie. "I've seen him writing and stuff."

Ryoko smiled. "I know just what to do."

They put on fresh hospital gloves and went back inside.

* * * * *

Back inside, the boy was sobbing, looking at his wrists, trying still to find a way to escape.

"You'll never get away, so quit trying," said Annie. "And don't start talking again or we'll hurt your nuts."

The bully wanted desperately to speak. The smell ... he'd peed on the floor in front of him. The girls held their noses and laughed.

"What was it Karin said? He couldn't get a hard on anymore?" Annie said.

"He's a teenager," Lizzie said, Of course he can. It just might hurt."

"I want to see," Ryoko said. The girls then started commanding him to get hard, and of course, he wasn't in the mood.

"Someone show him some titties," Lizzie said.

"You've got the biggest ones," Karin remarked, "Show him yours."

"I lured him in here, he's seen enough of me. Ryoko, what about you?"

Ryoko just shook her head.

"I'll do it," Annie said. "Toni is my sister."

And Annie took off her top and bra right there, moving around. Lizzie, who was not wearing a bra, pulled her shirt up too. They danced around, and the boy became interested, not forgetting his pain or his bleeding or his aching nuts. And of course when his dick started to get hard, he screamed. And started begging again. The girls put their clothes back on and Ryoko walked up to him. He began to babble and she told him to shut up.

"You'll never get away with this. You'll all go to juvie," he threatened, but without heart.

"Why not," said Liz. "You did. And besides, we're smart enough not to provide any evidence."

"We could cut off all your fingers," Ryoko said. "You'd be helpless forever, just two useless palms. Shut up. SHUT UP! We could put our your eyes, and you can guess what that would do. We could cut off your pecker or squash your balls with pliers. Someone get me the pliers."

"The point is," Annie said, "is that even though you are a lying piece of white trash, you wouldn't even LIE to us to say you'd never hurt a child again. So we have more to do."

Liz handed Annie the pliers. Annie walked over to his right hand, took the index finger in the pliers, and twisted hard, the boy unable to avoid it. There was a cracking sound as the finger dislocated, broke, or both. He screamed and the ball gag went back in, one of the girls getting blood on her jeans in the process. The girls were still gloved. They didn't want any of his blood on them.

After the boy nearly passed out again, they waited. Ryoko was given three nods. She walked up to him, on his left side. She faced the same way he was facing. She spread her legs. She held her hand, palm up, facing the other girls, standing beside and just slightly to the front of the boy. She turned her body to the left, moving her hand down in a circle, brought it up, and with the edge of her hand struck the boy's extended elbow.

The boy screamed into his ballgag. His arm was broken, at the elbow, the hardest place to fix. No doubt his state medical card would pay for it all.

They watched for another few minutes.

* * * * *

The side door opened. A young man stepped in. The girls froze, except for Lizzie. She'd had a crush on Phillip Bradley since grade school. The boy, now just turned twenty, had been in the Army for nearly two years. He knew Jerry Simmons for what he was.

Lizzie apologized but reminded everyone that there had been no oath of secrecy, just obedience to the rules. The other girls were in considerable doubt until Phillip, lean and deeply muscled, his definition showing through the shirt he wore, walked up to Jerry. Phillip's hair was cut very short, blonde, in the military manner. Jerry was crying, trying not to look at the only kid who had ever been able to stand up to him.

Phillip had told his childhood friend that there was no way he was going to hurt a minor. But, of course, he could threaten. He got right up into the boy's face, putting on rubber gloves as one of the girls handed them to him.

"Well well well, big tough nasty bully-boy Simmons. You just had to go too far didn't you? Just because no one fights back don't mean they can't if you push 'em too far."

Jerry said something unintelligible, twisting his right hand weakly. His left arm was immobile, and he was holding himself up with the chain on his right wrist. He was crying and sobbing and trying to breathe through his nose.

"Big strong mean bully Simmons. Beaten by a couple of girls, young girls, girls in grade school, girls who are much smaller. Beaten and humiliated. Well, looks like you finally got yours. I heard what you did to little Toni. I have not one fuckin' doubt that is was you. Not one.

"Oh, and by the way, I hear your smokin' pot. That will be interesting. When the doctors take a blood test they'll find it. You know pot stays in your blood for a long time. You can be sure that they'll check, too. Might get you into jail or whatever after you get out of the hospital.

"Well, I want you to listen to me. I mean it, LISTEN! Pay attention. If I think you're not paying attention, if I think you're dissing me, if I think you are going to forget, if you even look bored or look like you're not going to do what I say, I'll squeeze and twist and pull and rip those naked bloody stupid useless nuts right off your ugly fuckin' body."

The bully opened his eyes. His face had yet to be damaged, aside from a blow on one side of his head that was bruising, from one of Ryoko's karate moves at the beginning.

Phillip continued. "You are never going to hurt or threaten any of these girls, got it? Because if you do, if you hurt any one of these girls, or their families, or their friends, or their property or anything else, if you threaten them or even speak like you'd like to, or even if they get hurt by someone else, I will find you. I will find you and you can not stop me. Your do-nothing bitch of a mother can't stop me. Your mother's drunk dope-sniffing boyfriend can't stop me. The police or the sheriff or the President of the United States can't stop me.

If anything happens to these girls or anyone remotely related to them, I will find you. Pay attention. I will find you and I will cut off your balls. I should anyway; people like you shouldn't be allowed to breed. I will cut off your balls and I will crush your arms and crush your legs and pull your eyes out and leave you hanging from a tree. Got that?

If you accuse these girls of anything, I'll find you. Pay attention. Nothing had better happen EVER to these girls, or I'll assume it was you or someone you tricked into it. And this will look like one of your dope-smoking picnics.

He turned without a word and left, wiping his shoes in the grass on the way out as a sign of his disrespect. The girls took their things and the bag of his shredded clothing. They nodded to Ryoko, who nodded back. She walked behind him. With her gloved hands, she put her fingers on both sides of his neck and pressed, and he lost consciousness.

Jerry Simmons woke up, sore, bloody, and naked, on a sidewalk behind the grocery store, in the weeds, across the street from the scummy houses. It was just starting to get daylight. He was laying on his side, in case he puked he would not strangle on it. His left arm--and he was left-handed--ached every time he moved any other part of his body. He managed to sit up, cradling the useless limb in the other one, the right index finger turned at a silly angle. His body was crisscrossed with stripes, some bleeding. His stomach was churning. His ass felt like it had been used for a railroad tunnel. His nuts ached, almost numb, and he realized the plastic thing was locked around it. He could never have removed it, without a cutting tool, with both hands, let alone one.

He waited almost an hour before getting to his feet. He knew the girls would burn every piece of evidence, probably had cleaned up the place where he was, and even washed or destroyed their own clothes. But he also knew that no one would believe him. And he knew that he could never accuse them, threat or not, because he'd never let anyone know that he was beaten by a few girls.

He'd have to think of something else. Yeah, a drug deal gone bad. That might make him look good in the eyes of his peers. Maybe. He hurt too bad to think about it.

He staggered, naked, toward the nearest house. Across his back, in ballpoint pen ink, was written in plain block letters: "Check my blood for drugs."