The house looks to be over a century old, shrouded in a cluster of large oak trees. Threatening dark clouds and thunder signal that another rainstorm is going to hit, so you quickly make your way up the long gravel road to the front porch. A knock on the door reveals that there is no one home. The windows are boarded up and the walls are riddled with neglect. Deserted. Rain begins to fall. You circle around to the back and find the entrance to the cellar. A rush of warm air strikes your face as you pull the storm doors open and descend the stairs. Squinting in the darkness, you fumble for the matches and light one. A rat scurries across the floor and disappears into another room. Outside, the heavy rain is pounding the earth, but you feel little comfort in yourefuge.

Using another match, you slowly venture forth to the opposite end of the room and try the light switch. Nothing. There is a small white candle sitting on a dusty shelf, so you light it. The cellar looks to be completely empty. You wander through, what seems like an endless maze of rooms, when something catches your eye. Carved into the house's foundation is a narrow doorway that doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the cellar. You approach it holding the candle in front of you, and peer into the dark passage. A steep, narrow staircase spirals downward into pitch-blackness. The ancient stone walls give you the impression that this was here long before the house was even built. Taking careful, deliberate steps, you slowly descend the dark staircase. A powerful scent of wet stone and rotting wood lingers in the air. The candle is just bright enough to illuminate the first and last few steps around you before blackness creeps in.

Suddenly, a noise makes you stop dead in your tracks. At first, you only hear your own breathing and the distant sounds of dripping water. But then there's something else - the faint, muffled sounds of a human being, coming up the staircase. Then it stops. Could someone be calling for help? You quicken your pace until you reach the bottom step. Holding the candle outward, you see a long, narrow corridor. Claw like pillars reach up to grasp the hulk of the ceiling that presses inexorably down upon you. The end of the corridor makes a sharp turn, what lies beyond it is a mystery. You feel very uneasy now, uncertain as to who or what you'll find if you continue. You listen again for the muffled sounds, but there is nothing.

Slowly, you make your way through the corridor. When you approach the corner, you stop for a moment, take a breath, and make the turn. Through the dim light of the flickering candle, you see a narrow doorway. You step through it and the corridor opens up into a small chamber. The room appears to be empty. The crumbling walls are saturated with ground water, the air is thick and moist. Then you hear the noise again, just off to your left. One sweep of the candle in that direction reveals a sight that makes your heart jump.

Across the room, a beautiful little girl is hanging from the ceiling. She appears to be nine or ten years old. She has been stripped naked and left suspended down here in the pitch darkness. You pause a moment in disbelief and shock. Her back is to you, but the candlelight immediately announces your presence. She turns her head and tries to speak to you through the gag in her little mouth. Your first reaction would be to free this poor child, but you are instantly captivated by the sight of her small bound body.

You force yourself to ignore her muffled protests for now and step forward for a better look. Her wrists are bound with leather straps to each end of a 4 ft. steel bar. The bar is attached to a large chain wrapped around a pulley that hangs from the ceiling. The other end of the chain is attached to a hand crank. Her arms are pulled over her head so that the entire length of her helpless body is stretched taut. Another steel bar is attached to each ankle strap, forcing the little girl to stand on her toes with her legs spread wide apart. Directly below her body is a wooden plank, placed end-side-up and secured by two benches on each end. Her long legs straddle each side without touching it. The edge of the plank is just low enough to avoid contact with the sensitive flesh between her open thighs, that is, as long as she remains on her toes! Your initial concerns with the little child are now overcome with a wave of lust and you become instantly erect.

You take a moment to drink in the sights and sounds of this young pre-teen's plight. Her desperate eyes follow your movements as you approach her. She appears to be afraid. Her slender body is pale and athletic, but still very child-looking. Her chest is flat. A steel clamp is fastened to each little nipple and chained to a metal ring on the opposite wall. The tension of the chain is adjusted to keep her poor pre-teen body bent forward, so that, even the slightest movement, pinches and pulls her bruised nipples. She's wearing a leather, studded collar around her neck. A small chain or leash dangles loosely from it down to her buttocks. Then you lower the candle to her thighs and expose quite provocatively, the fleshy folds around her hairless, pouting cleft. Directly underneath, is the edge of the wooden plank, sharpened roughly to a very sharp point, with jagged spurs along the length of it. The nine-year-old girl waits, helplessly, struggling to remain on her toes as the inevitable muscle fatigue slowly sets in.

You've seen photos and read stories about similar situations in bondage magazines, but never about a small child, so young. Little girl is obviously a submissive, or a 'slave', in the process of being disciplined by her Mommy and Daddy. Her presence is so tantalizing, you can barely contain yourself.

She tries to maintain her position as you begin to explore every inch of her slender body with your hands. You begin by stroking the hollows of her armpits, then sliding your fingers past her hips and down her trembling legs. Her skin is smooth as silk, without even a trace of hair. You let your hands travel around the curves of her pretty round bottom until they settle between her thighs to the soft, tender parts she is working so hard to protect.

By now the smooth, muscles in child's upper legs and calves are clearly visible from the strain she is just beginning to feel. She tries to adjust her feet just a little, but almost loses her balance and the steel clamps give her sore nipples a painful tug.

After many long minutes, her legs finally tire, and she uses the last of her strength to lower herself as gently as possible onto the edge of this crude instrument. Delicate hairless flesh is now pressed between the sharp, jagged surface and her pelvic bone, laying the first of many small bruises upon her pre-teen sex.

In moments, her legs regain enough strength to lift her body and relieve the pressure between her thighs, but only for a few minutes this time. Muscles throbbing, she lowers herself again, carefully placing her weight on a new, unmarked place. Never before, have you witnessed a small child being subjected to this form of slow, sexual torture.

The sight of poor little girl's pain and frustration brings your mind and body to a new level of arousal that you have never experienced before. It takes longer for her to summon the strength to rise a third time, but after several long seconds of straddling the plank, she points her toes and pushes herself against gravity. The muscles in her legs are aching terribly from the exertion now, her tight ass quivering as she struggles to hold her stance. You are impressed with her endurance and self-control. But how long can a nine-year-old girl last?

Then you notice that the spot she has been resting on is now covered with her fluids. Apparently pain and pleasure are one in the same for this young girl.

Time passes. Long and agonizing moments of torment. The child's face is masked with pain and fatigue. Her pale little body is covered with sweat. The long struggle ends when her legs finally give away completely and she has to lower herself, full-force onto the devious device until her buttocks straddle each side of it. The edge of the plank is now wedged firmly between her swollen, hairless folds. Comfort is impossible and the child squirms constantly from pain she feels inflicted on her undeveloped genitals. You watch her for several minutes, then utter your first command.

"Rise!"

The pre-teen's legs are shaking from over-exertion, but she somehow manages to push herself up off the plank. Her obedience pleases you to no end. You decide to further test her compliance in small ways. Leading her motion with your hands you whisper another command, "Open."

Little nine-year-old girl obediently forces her thighs outward, spreading herself to your word. Reaching down to the V of her small stretched body, you test the slave-child by squeezing her swollen labia, to see if she will hold her silence. She draws a hot breath, but says nothing. You take a moment to relish the feel of her painful, moist vulva in your hand, then you release her. By now, your cock is screaming for attention. You step back and slide the plank out from under her. Then she breathes a sign of relief and relaxes as you unhook the clamps from her little nipples.

You pull the gag off her pretty mouth and, before she can speak, turn her head to kiss her. She immediately parts her lips with a willingness that inspires you, moaning deeply as you explore the inside of child's mouth with your tongue. Then you step back and unzip your pants. Her breathing quickens with anticipation when she sees your huge cock standing hard and erect before her. Taking firm hold of her little buttocks, you lift her hips up and slide the entire length of your shaft inside her moist rectum. She drops her blond head back in complete submission as you pull her warm nine-year-old body closer to your thighs.

You continue to work your cock inside her, pulling it back slowly, then driving it back in with a quick thrust, repeatedly. The poor child rewards your efforts with tears and a series of soft, sexy whimpers that can be heard in every dark room and corridor. You feel the pressure building up inside you, but you try to hold on for just a while longer. Sensing that little girl is about to reach an orgasm, you quicken your pace, pounding her small body like a drop hammer while she dangles helplessly on the rope. Then you both climax in unison. Her small bruised body tenses as your throbbing cock spills its warm seed into the deepest recesses of her bowels. You stand there for several minutes, enjoying the comfort of child's tiny body next to yours.

Then you pull up your pants and replace the gag on her mouth. The poor little baby-girl looks at you desperately, as though she were saying, "I gave you what you wanted, now PLEASE release me."

Picking up the candle, you whisper 'thank you,' then give her a wink before leaving the room. The child's muffled protests can still be heard in the darkness below as you ascend the stairs.

Outside, the rain has stopped, and the warm sunlight is already breaking through the clouds. Quietly, you close the cellar doors, then proceed down the gravel road from which you came, quickening your pace until the old house is far from view.