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Message-ID: <31120asstr$993679802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Pedro Vila" <pedrovila@dark.summer>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 27 Jun 2001 01:40:58 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} "The Replacement" part2 (ped, n/c, abuse, no sex, slow, overly verbose, mired in details)
Date: Wed, 27 Jun 2001 18:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This is a work of pure fiction.
It involves a subject matter
that most of the world finds
disgusting and shoudn't be
posted on A.S.S.M.

If you are one of those
readers, then please STOP NOW!

If you are under 18, the same applies.

If it is illegal to read of these things
where you live, you are also to leave.

Hell, you should just leave anyway!


________________________________

    "THE REPLACEMENT" part2
     by Pedro Vila


  Heather stared at Mr. Stafford's cold gaze. He had brought her to
someplace far from home and where they speak a different language and now he
had taken away her clothes and told her that she was now the replacement for
his dead wife.
  This was too much for a nine year old girl to grasp. Heather thought
frantically for understanding, something that would reassure her that it was
just a misunderstanding and she could go home soon after doing a few chores
for him. Yes, that must be what he meant. He needed somebody to replace his
wife's duties until he could cope again.
  But then why did he want her to just wear her underwear? He said her
clothes just needed to be washed, but why couldn't she wear the blanket
until then? Heather asked him that out loud.
  "Because you'll ruin it by dragging it around like that, and I don't want
to have to wash it too when you start your cleaning." His voice was firm and
commanding. Nothing like the gentle man she just met yesterday. Heather
stood under his intense glare until she finally gave in and went back to the
bedroom to put it back.
  Leaving the bedroom, she felt naked and held herself even though it was
very warm inside. The sun was shining brightly outside as well and Heather
wished she was paying more attention at the airport. She had no idea where
in the world she was.
  Mr. Stafford nodded as she reentered the kitchen clad only in a cotton
sleeveless undershirt, panties, and ankle high socks. Looking at the pantry
cupboard, she didn't recognize anything except a box with a picture of
pancakes on them. Heather had made those before and took it out. Mr.
Stafford pointed at a cup on the table by him and it took a moment to
understand that he wanted coffee too. She must have looked confused because
he then pointed to the pantry again.
  It took too long for heather to figure out how to make breakfast without
his help and he gave her none. He did however, look more and more displeased
as time went on. This pressed Heather to quicken and finally she had a plate
in front of him and poured him coffee as well.
  She sat down and felt conscious of her semi nakedness again. She then
realized she'd made nothing for herself.
  Heather got up to cook again but Mr. Stafford stopped her. "You took much
too long. You have to do better than that if you want to eat too. Now you
must get started on cleaning my house." Heather was about to protest but
something about his eyes told her to shut up. "You will find your cleaning
supplies under the bathroom sink. You can start there." Then he dismissed
her with a wave of his hand.
  Heather was suddenly ignored and this made her a little bolder.
  "I want to call my mom first." she demanded. Suddenly, Heather was
shrinking away from his suddenly turned eyes on her. He looked like he was
ready to explode, then he took a deep breath and regained control.
  "There are no phones in this village. Do you want to drive to one looking
like that?" His voice was precise. Heather couldn't think of an argument.
She looked around at the room and everything seemed alien and primitive. Mr.
Stafford was the only thing familiar now. He was the only way back for her.
  Heather hung her head and went to do what she was told.
  The bathroom was simple. A sink, a small cabinet under the window, a
bathtub, and a old looking toilet. It wasn't too dirty but it looked
brownish everywhere.
  In the cabinet were a bucket, some brushes, gloves, a bottle of something
that looked like something from under a sink, and a bag in back with some
ropes falling out of it. Heather looked in the bag and saw some leather
short, fat belts in there also along with some longer straps of it.
Something about what was in the bag puzzled Heather.
  She started by cleaning the tub, it was harder work than she thought and
she found that too much of what was in the bottle left stains in the bath
that wouldn't scrub out. Heather was careful with it afterwards.
  Then she did the sink and mirror, thinking about the bag now and then.
What was it about that bag?
  Heather then caught sight of herself in the dirty mirror. She stopped and
stared. She looked very different suddenly. Where before, she had been
growing independent, now she felt small and helpless. She looked small and
helpless wearing nothing but her underwear with her strait hair falling down
to her small shoulders making her head seem to big for her body.
  The eyes did it the most. See had always saw herself as a strong girl,
even when dad got arrested, but now she had eyes like a dear just before you
hit it. This shook her and she turned to look at the cabinet again.
Something in there was feeling like a fire alarm to her.
  Heather jumped when Mr. Stafford walked in on her. He said nothing but
stood in front of the toilet as he opened his trousers and pulled out his
penis in front of her. Heather gasped and took a step back.
  Mr. Stafford said, "Come now. You seen a human body before. You have one
too so we're even." Then he turned to her and held her gaze. Heather
unconsciously looked to the stains in the bathtub and looked back to see him
turn to it.
  She felt regret even before he screwed up his face in anger. "Is that what
I think it is?" He finished and didn't bother to zip up, but turned to touch
the stains in the tub. He was livid when he turned back to her. "Do you know
how hard it is to get a bathtub around here?! This one is ruined now!"
  Heather tried to defend herself. "It was an accident. I couldn't read...."
  "Silence!!" He ordered. His voice was so loud it stunned her. Heather
tried to swallow but her throat was dry. Mr. Stafford took a deep breath and
 barely held his temper. "There is a bag in that cabinet. Bring it!" then he
left and Heather waited too long. His head peeked around the door and
bellowed, "NOW!!"
  Heather jumped and reached for the bag, stuffing ropes back in as they
fell in her scramble to follow him.
  He was waiting by the kitchen table for her. "Sit there and don't move."
he commanded, pointing at the table top. Heather scrambled to get her short
knee up to the top and it felt really solid under her. She kneeled with her
hands on her lap and watch Mr. Stafford disappear under the table in four
different places.
  The he stood up again and ordered, "Lay on your belly." Heather's blood
drained out of her face. What was he going to do? Was he going to kill her?
"Now! Or it'll go harder on you." She understood he wasn't going to kill her
then, but she still didn't know what was going to happen as she laid down
with her arms in to her chest.
  He walked behind her and she was afraid to look, so she didn't. At least
until her grabbed her ankle from behind and pulled it sideways. Heather
yelped and thought she sounded like a puppy for an odd moment.
  Something tight went around her ankle and then Mr. Stafford was hold the
other one on the other side. Heather was in shock at what was happening to
her She felt exposed like that and helpless to even move.
  Then her arm was yanked out and she saw, in a daze, Mr. Stafford buckling
one of the short belts over her wrist. It was like something she'd seen in
an old movie at a hospital for crazies. Then heather was stretched out ankle
to wrist across the long part of the table.
  "Please... please don't' hurt me." she stammered in a weak voice.
  "You think I shouldn't punish you? No. This will make you a better wife."
Then he held out a leather strap and she knew what he was going to do.
  "Oh, no." Heather started to cry tears with her words. She started by
repeating,. "Please." in a begging voice even before her pulled her panties
down and whipped the strap across her small, white bottom."
  Heather was sobbing like a baby when he finished. She couldn't remember
how many time he'd hit her and didn't even remember him freeing her limbs.
He held her and she cried with her arms across her chest, not looking at
him. He forced her to look up at his face and it was softer than before,
forgiving, as he looked down at her wet, red face.
  "Your done. Take a moment to calm yourself before you get started again,
okay?" he told her.
  With her face screwed up from crying, she nodded. He petted her head a
moment then let go, stepping back. Then he left the room and Heather was
left standing there in this horrible place with her butt throbbing. She
pulled up her panties and gently slid them over her burning cheeks and wiped
her arm across her nose before it ran into her mouth.
  Heather walked dazed back to the bathroom and looked at the tub again. She
was still letting loose sobs now and then as she went to cleaning where she
left off before.
  She felt broken and afraid.

  Heather was finally done with the bathroom and sat for a while, afraid to
look for Mr. Stafford again. Her bottom ached so she kneeled on the floor,
feeling weak.
  Already, home felt a million miles away and a long time ago. She reflected
on everything that had happened to her. It wasn't fair! It wasn't her fault
her father killed the guys family. Why did he have to make her pay for it?
Heather found a spark of herself from before and felt a little better. She
tried to think logically.
  If he was making her clean a house somewhere out of the United States,
then he must have planned this. He already had tickets for the plane and she
blindly went along with this stranger. If she could just find a phone, she
could call somebody for help. Her dad couldn't do anything but her mom would
try or die trying.
  Then she remembered him coming back out of the house and closing the door
behind him. And mom wasn't there when she called. Heather felt herself go
white when she remembered that she didn't leave a message.
  Oh, god, Heather thought.
  What if he did something to her mother? She looked out through the
bathroom door and felt a deep chill run down her body. She was in trouble.
Another thought occurred to her, He would get mad if he caught her not
working.
  Heather got up quickly and rushed out the door with the bucket in her
hand. She stopped in the hall and didn't know what to do next.
  "You took your time." Mr. Stafford said from behind her. Heather jumped
back from him and stood against the dark walnut wall. "Don't let me catch
you slacking off again."
  "No, sir." Heather said instantly. Sir?! Where did that come from? Heather
thought.
  But Mr. Stafford nodded approval and Heather remembered to call him that
again. "You may now do the living room." Heather nodded and slinked along
the far wall from him to get there. "I would ruin anything in there, if I
were you." She shook her head and scrambled from him.
  A broom sat in the corner. Heather set the bucket down and picked up the
broom to sweep with.
  She felt sweaty and dirty from the dust sticking to her damp body. It was
warmer here than she was used to. She finally moved the bucket to sweep the
last part of the room and saw a faint ring from where it just sat.
  Heather was in panic. If he saw that he would whip her again. She bent
down to rub at it with her fingers. But it was stained lighter then the rest
of the floor. It would disappear though and she hovered over it, locked in
fear.
  Then a drop of sweat dripped off of her forehead and hit the lightened
part of the floor. The drop darkened the wood close enough to almost match.
Quickly, she wiped her head and rubbed her sweat into the floor. It took
allot, the floor kept absorbing the moistier and she got more from her bare
sides and belly between her top and panties.
  She was just about satisfied when Mr. Stafford came in and said,
"Problem?"
  "No. No, sir." She got up and refused to look at the floor. He held her
gaze and she held perfectly still, not looking away from his eyes. He did
not look away from her eyes either and she felt like he was seeing deep into
her and she would be caught and beaten again any moment.
  Finally, he said, "You need to clean up for dinner now." Heather felt her
stomach inside and realized that she was starved. "Come with me." and he led
her back to the bathroom.
  Standing over the toilet he asked, "How well did you clean this?"
  "I...." She didn't know how to answer.
  "Is it clean enough for you to drink the water?" he asked firmly. "If I
made you take a drink from there, would you?"
  "No." she shook her head and cringed, afraid. "No, sir. I'm sorry. I'm
sorry, I'll clean it better." Heather started to ramble, knowing he was
going to hurt her again.
  "Okay. You told me the truth and you didn't know. I'll let you slide this
time." Heather felt an uneasy calm then. "But you will clean it right after
dinner.
  "And since you are not clean enough to cook for me, I'll have to do it."
He turned. "Come." and left the room. Heather followed.
  In the kitchen, he pointed to the table and said, "On the table again."
Heather shook her head and was ready to run screaming. "I'm not going to
punish you, but I want you where I can see you if I'm to make dinner for us.
Get on!"
  Heather scrambled onto the table again. She was terrified and shaking. Her
bottom hurt still and she ended up kneeling like before. Then Mr. Stafford
went to the stove and started to make something to eat. Heather couldn't see
what he was doing and sat there quietly while sounds came from the cooking
area.
  Then Mr. Stafford came back with a plate for himself and sat in front of
her to eat. Heather looked back at the stove and couldn't see another plate
for her.
  "You eat when I'm done." he said and started to dig in.
  She didn't recognize anything on his plate but was so hungry that she
didn't care.
  He took his time and would look her up and down from time to time while he
ate.
  Then he stood and told her to stand on her knees. She did and hoped it
would be her turn to eat next. He reached onto his plate and picked up a
good sized chunk of meat that looked like barbecued chicken and held it up.
Heather almost grabbed for it then stopped herself. Mr. Stafford nodded
approval again and, with his other hand, pulled the elastic of her panties
quickly and stuffed the sauce covered piece of meat down to her crotch. It
was warm and slimy and heather gasped at the sensation. He had caught her
unready and she was totally flustered.
  "That, you may eat." he simply said.
  Heather looked down at her now staining panties in shock and back at him
again. her mouth was wide open. He was expecting her to eat it now that it
had touched her private part.
  "The longer you leave it there, the cold it will be when you finally eat.
You are not leaving this table until you have finished, understand?" He
scolded. Then softer, "Wasting food is considered a crime here."
  The meat between her legs was beginning to feel strangely hot and Heather
pulled it out with two fingers. She looked at it unsurely and felt a little
queezy at the thought of eating it. But a stern stare from Mr. Stafford
prodded her into taking a bite.
  Heather chewed a little and coughed. It was very spicy and her tongue was
beginning to burn. Her privates were feeling a little burn too. She coughed
again and rasped, "Water." Her eyes started watering as well.
  "Yes, your not used to it here yet. Okay, you may use mine if you ask me
properly." he told her.
  Heather tried to swallow the flames and said as best as she could,
"Please, sir, may I have some water?" then coughed some more.
  Mr. Stafford smiled, pleased, and handed her the water. Heather chugged it
down hard. She suddenly felt very dehydrated. The glass was empty in no
time. He shook his head and motioned for her to finish eating. Heather mouth
trembled and she took a much smaller bite this time. It was a little easier
and soon she was finished.
  Her mouth burned and her private part burned and she was told to finish
with the toilet. Heather had no choice but to go back and clean it again.
Mr. Stafford stood over her and watched ever move.
  When she felt it was as clean as she could ever get it, she looked up to
him, waiting.
  "Do you think it is clean enough now?" he asked. Heather nodded. "Prove it
for me."
  This was the part she deep down knew was coming. Haltingly, she bent her
head down to the bowl water and dipped her tongue into it with her eyes
clamped tightly shut, holding her hair away from it with her hands.
  "Good." Mr. Stafford said as she lifted her head again. "Since you ruined
the tub, this is the water you will use to clean yourself up with, including
your garments." He pointed to the cabinet. "There is a rag in there you can
use. It's clean, I assure you." Heather shifted her legs again because of
the burning in her private area. "You might want to start with your nether
regions."


  pedrovila@mailandnews dot com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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