Message-ID: <31199asstr$994043403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <PedroVila@MailAndNews.com> X-WM-Posted-At: MailAndNews.com; Sun, 1 Jul 01 08:22:25 -0400 X-WebMail-UserID: PedroVila From: Pedro Vila <PedroVila@MailAndNews.com> X-EXP32-SerialNo: 50000000 X-Original-Message-ID: <3B529CD4@MailAndNews.com> Subject: {ASSM} "The Replacement" Final-last (ped,n/c,bond,whip,preg,ending) Date: Sun, 1 Jul 2001 23:10:03 -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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/31199> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates This is a work of pure fiction. The author does not condone any of the actions taken by the fictional characters in this story If you are offended by the above subject matters, or are under eighteen, or it is illegal to read of such where you are, you should leave now! _______________________________ "THE REPLACEMENT" pt6 (Final part) by Pedro Vila <1st attachment, "The replacement pt06.txt" begin> Mr. Stafford came back with a small pouch and a wooden pole with short rods sticking out at ninety degree angles near each end. It had ropes coming off of it too and Heather knew it was for doing something to her with. She took a deep breath. This was the time to see if she had really changed inside. Could she do this? She wasn't sure but stood her ground anyway. "Turn around." Mr. Stafford ordered her and she used a hand to pivot her back to him while still in the middle of the table. "On your knees." was the next command. Heather complied. Then she felt the pole placed behind her knees with the rods on the insides holding her legs wide apart. Then the short ropes on each end were tied around the front of each knee which prevented her from moving them in any way together. "Chest to the table." Mr. Stafford told her sternly. Heather bent down, forcing her private area between her legs to be totally exposed to him with only her bottom in the air. She bit her lip as a rope was passed around her back and tied to each end on the pole behind her knees. The rope was pulled tighter and her knees almost came to her shoulders as her chest made contact with the pole. This position hurt to be in already. It was made worse by Mr. Stafford then securing her arms above her head to the table end and then her ankles fixed to the other buckles opposite. It was getting hard to breathe like that. Heather couldn't decide if she should strain around to look or not and decided to keep her eyes forward, looking at the kitchen sink across the room. She heard him rustle some things out of the pouch and what must have been a glass or jar set on the table behind her. A moment of silence then something solid was pushed against her butt hole. Heather felt pain from being whipped there before and what ever it was, was dry and rough. Then with a few sideways twists, it started to pass into her and a finger shoved it in deep. She could feel it there inside of her at all times and it felt like it was large and scraping her inner walls. Then the sound of a lid being screwed off of a jar and suddenly fingers were touching her private area with something gooey on them. They worked around her from her clitoris to the anus and then disappeared to scoop more of the stuff on her. The feeling of the fingers on her private area made her realize how raw they were from the beatings and rapes and at first felt a mild heat which she thought was because of being hit there so much. Then the heat continued with an icy feeling as well and Heather realized it was the stuff he had just put on. It made her hurt worse, but it also made her numb a little too. The fingers worked some of the stuff inside of her private area as well. Heather made a mindless noise as fingers violated her inside and then the icy heat made it's presence known there as well. Heather's breathing got very heavy and her muscles controlling her private area started to clench on their own. A new feeling started to come over her, kind of like when she had masturbated before meeting Mr. Stafford. She could feel her blood pumping through her body faster and she became afraid. He had stopped touching her there and she felt the need to be touched still. Heather knew she wasn't supposed to enjoy sex and the feeling felt wrong here and tied up with him watching. Then Mr. Stafford got on the table with her. A tiny part of Heather inside was hoping he would rape her again while the stuff made her feel this way, but he straddled her front and was on the wrong side of her facing the wrong way. This frustrated Heather. "I know you are thinking sinful thoughts and you must try and push them from your mind." He suddenly told her. Heather strained. "I don't want to. It's the stuff you put on me." she said through clenched teeth. "Yes. That can't be helped." he replied. "It is to help your body change quickly to give me my child you owe me. I will help you overcome your evil thoughts." Mr. Stafford then brought the whip down on her bottom. Heather yelped in surprise as well as pain and he waited a moment before whipping her again. A second blow landed right on her private area and she felt it streak pain from one end to the other. Her nub that she remembered playing with before felt like it was growing and throbbing. A third blow landed on the nub hard and Heather felt a bolt of electricity fly through her head. Then the whipping started in earnest and most of the blows landed all over her butt cheeks. But ever blow that landed on her private area made her body gush with feelings she had never felt before. Heather almost started to curse when Mr. Stafford didn't whip her private area and would then strain everywhere when he did. She could feel something building inside of her and knew it was somehow connected with her private place. Then Mr. Stafford started to exclusively whip her nub and butt hole and she felt it rocket her into something painful and pleasurable at the same time. Heather wanted him to keep hitting her there and he did, harder with each stroke. Suddenly, she started to yelp louder and louder until her body screamed with her voice, making everything intense and powerful. Heather experienced her first orgasm during that whipping. When everything finally started to pass, Mr. Stafford stopped whipping her. She slumped as much as she could in her bound state and when he undid the rope around her back, her body plopped wetly to the table. Heather was covered in sweat. She lay there breathing deeply and with a strange euphoria around her. She had no idea what had just happened to her. "You have been cleansed." Mr. Stafford told her. "Your body has just purged the demons from it and god has rewarded you with the joy of being a proper woman." Heather felt herself throb down between her legs and knew it would be really hurting soon, but at that moment she didn't care. "Clean yourself off first then come to me for treatment so that you don't become infected. Then you must clean this kitchen up from the mess you have left." Mr. Stafford was telling Heather after releasing her from the table. Heather felt drained and didn't have the energy to even lift herself from the table top. She was still dripping from sweating over the workout she had been given as well as the heat of the climate inside and out. Her hair was plastered to her face and her legs trembled from weakness. Her eyes were stinging from salty sweat dripping into them. She felt a drop build on the end of her nose and eventually drip to the table top inches below. Time seemed to pass very slowly for her then. She wanted to just lay there and let her body wind down. A hand grabbed a handful of soaked hair and her head was lifted up. She focused for a short time on Mr. Stafford's face and then they unfocused again. Heather felt like she was floating on the table. She had no idea how long she was allowed to lay there. Eventually, her private area began to throb painfully and the sensation was enough to bring her around to fuller awareness. It was daylight still. Heather lifted herself to her elbows and Mr. Stafford was there waiting. He said nothing, but looked at her coldly. Heather started to say something, but her voice cracked and she had to start over again. "I.... I'm sorry, sir." "Can you move now?" he asked her. There was no fury in his voice. She couldn't move, what could he do? "Y... yes, sir. I'll go... clean now." Heather found that moving her legs even a little brought sharp stabs of pain up her insides. She winced and moved very slowly and carefully to slide off of the table. Then she stood for a minute until she was able to walk. Her torn top slid down one arm and she was too tired to bother pulling it up. Heather walked very gently to her toilet bowl and kneeled by it, shifting her position until she found the least painful way to sit. Then she dipped the washcloth into the cold water and brought it to her chest. The wet cloth dripped cold water down her front and it felt good. Heather liked the feeling of it against her body. She started to dip the cloth and bring it to her fully dripping wet and rubbing it over herself. She could feel her energy coming back to her. She let the cool water pool under her and gave herself a wonderful washcloth bath. Her skin never felt so sensitive before, even though it hurt still most everywhere, she found her awareness heightened and even a little pleasurable. Then it was time to wash her private area. It felt very hot from the beating it had taken. Heather just held the cool wet cloth to herself and gritted her teeth at the pain/pleasure she got from the touch of it. She was too sore to rub it at all and ended up satisfied with just a few soakings. Heather was also thirsty and after flushing, looked to see if she was being watched, then thinking it couldn't hurt bent down to drink from the cool toilet bowl. She was better able to move after taking care of herself and stood to go, then decided to look at herself in the mirror. She wanted to see how bad her body was beaten but instead saw her face. Heather looked tired. She had dark circles under her eyes which were red themselves. Her mouth was open with a tired look that showed her two large front teeth that she had grown a few years back. The collar was still there, she had forgotten about it. Then looking down her front, she could see red welts where she had been hit but couldn't remember which ones were there before. Stepping back she could see her hips and thighs crossed with red steaks including over her hairless mound, and newly raised red welts in a strait up and down pattern going up to her belly button and collecting at her private area. This was from her cleansing, she guessed. She didn't want to touch her raw place down there to look at the damage. She turned and looked at her back side. Her bottom was streaked with welts but nothing worse then anyplace else. Heather was kind of surprised at how well she was taking this. It just didn't seem as bad now as it did when she first came here. There must be something to what Mr. Stafford told her about having bad thoughts beaten out of her. She never felt anything like what she did earlier. Heather finally left for the kitchen and stood still for Mr. Stafford's treatment of what ever he put on her wounds. It did make her feel better. Then she was dismissed to start cleaning her mess in the kitchen, then the bathroom. After she was done, she was told to clean Mr. Stafford once again and she did it dutifully like the good woman she would be for him. Then she made him his supper and ate when it was herturn. Finally, she was to go to bed and she did. Heather lay for a while thinking. As much as it was painful for her, part of her wanted to be cleansed again. She wondered if he would do it again tomorrow. Maybe he would wait for her to heal. Would it feel even better if he didn't? Heather slept. She never cried once. Heather was allowed to heal for a few days before any more breeding attempts were made with her by Mr. Stafford. She was drinking his stuff every other day now and was only whipped once on the bottom while doing dishes. She didn't know why she was whipped but it wasn't real bad and she stood and took it without being tied down in any way. She ended up being proud of that. Then she was told to take her place on the table and was buckled down with her arms and legs fully spread apart. He whipped at her a few times on the chest and belly before climbing up on top of her. She was still very sore from the beating a few days back and it hurt pretty bad towards the end of it. She felt like he was rubbing her skin off of her body. This satisfied him that she wasn't enjoying it. She found afterwards that she had almost bit her own lip off and tasted a little blood in her mouth. It was almost a week later with no whippings or breedings when he produced a peasant like dress for her to wear in public. They were going to go to the market together. Heather was almost excited by the thought of leaving the house, but then thought about the man who wanted to take her from Mr. Stafford. She was worried about this and asked him to make sure she wouldn't be taken from him. Mr. Stafford actually smiled at her and rubbed his hand on her head. This made her feel small and helpless, and like the child that she was. She wore nothing under the dress which came down to her knees and was given the same shoes she used to clean out the shed with. They still had oil stains on them. Before leaving the house, for the first time for her, she was told not to look anybody in the eye and to keep her head down. Heather nodded and Mr. Stafford attached a leash to her collar. Instead of feeling like a dog, Heather felt reassured that she wouldn't be snatched from him. It wasn't a very long walk to the market gathering which was almost like a festival with some guitar music and men yelling of their wares. She was never dragged by the leash because she stayed as close to Mr. Stafford as she could. She felt very small among all these people. Heather did her best not to look up at anybody but also tried to sneak peeks around to see what kind of country this was. She couldn't recognize any writing or saw any familiar flags or even a car for that matter. Mr. Stafford bought some meat on a stick and ate it while walking. Heather didn't think he would give her any since they were out in public but he actually stopped and fed a small piece strait into her mouth. She started to say 'Thank you, sir' but a finger told her not to speak. It was still hot and kind of spicy but it was delicious. Heather did get to notice that only one other person had on a leash, although almost every female had on a collar. The other leashed girl was older then her, but only by a few years. She saw no children at all. Another stand had clothes and Heather was able to glance and see that there were clothes for women as well. She wondered if he would replace the panties or torn shirt for her. He stopped to look but nothing interested him much. A second glance told her they were all ugly and rough looking. She was thankful for him not making her wear something like that. After an hour of walking, Heather started to get sore. She had still not healed completely and the heat was making her tired. They stopped at another stand and Heather didn't bother to look up at it. She was able to sit on a bench by it and she was grateful. Mr. Stafford bought something there and held it down for Heather to see. It was a pretty red nightgown or something dress like. It was hanging funny and Heather wasn't sure how it was supposed to be worn. She didn't care. It was beautiful. She felt her eyes widen and she tried very hard not to grin and fling her arms around his neck to hug him. Mr. Stafford could see the joy in her face and smiled anyway. He sat next to her while she held it. The happy moment was cut short by a familiar face approaching them. It was the angry man who tried to steal her away. He was all smiles and Mr. Stafford pulled Heather closer to himself. Heather looked down hard and refused to look at him even though she knew he was talking to her. There were not too kind words coming from Mr. Stafford and Heather recognized the name, "Koetee". Koetee still was smiling and acting like there were no problems at all. He said something to Heather again and she ignored him. Her heart was racing in fear. Then he held her chin and forced her to look at him as he talked to her. Heather was glad she didn't understand the language. He smiled and she saw he was missing some teeth. She got the impression that he was trying to sweet talk her. She pulled her head away and looked down again. Koetee tried to grab at her face again but Mr. Stafford blocked it. Both men stood suddenly and Heather felt tension between them. Mr. Stafford seemed to radiate violence. Heather felt he would kill Koetee for sure. But then Koetee was all smiles again and said something before walking off. "That man will never learn." Mr. Stafford simply said. They walked on after they were sure Koetee was gone. Heather felt excitement at the present and found that she was feeling attraction to Mr. Stafford, her protector. She felt an itching between her legs and no longer felt as pained as she recently did. She was even throbbing. This made Heather scared. This was something she knew she wasn't supposed to feel and she was in public. If they saw her feeling this way, she would be in serious trouble. A tug on her leash told her that she'd been not paying attention and when Mr. Stafford turned to look he could tell what was happening to her. A glare was all he gave her and then walked her rapidly in some direction. She was hoping he was taking her home. They stopped instead at another stall and looking up, Heather saw that this stall sold whips. She felt her mouth drop as she suddenly turned to Mr. Stafford and he told her to chose one. Turning back to look, her breathing got heavy and fast as she saw many different types of whips. All of them looking very dangerous. There were wooden handled thick leather straps, bullwhips of all kinds, long looking whips with knots at the end, short whips with three tails, one with metal spikes along the ends, and even a few loops of chains. This was a scary stall. Heather was less excited now and becoming fearful. Yet, there was a part of her that remembered the cleansing. Thinking about that time and how it felt, Heather focused on a certain whip and her gut told her that she wanted it. She pointed to a medium sized strip of thick leather, cut to a point at the end with holes along the middle and ending with a good sized wooden handle for gripping. She thought about how it would feel hitting her nub in her private area and felt her face flush. Mr. Stafford nodded and paid the man for the item, then walked Heather beside the stall to a small log on posts at each end and shackles as well. He brought her to the middle of the log and picked her up and laid her belly down over it. Then he put the shackles on her ankles and walked in front of her to place more shackles on her wrists to a post a few feet in front. He was going to whip her right there in front of everyone in broad daylight! Mr. Stafford pulled her dress forward a little to clear the log and she felt her bare belly and front thighs touch the rough wood. Then the shackles were pulled tight and her legs were stretched wide apart. Her feet were no where near touching the dirt. Then the front shackles on her arms were pulled tight and Heather's chest was pulled up to hang almost strait. She tried to look behind her but then her dress was pulled the rest of the way over her head and she was then stretched out naked over the log. This time she could see a crowd gathering. Her heart was ready to beat out of her chest. She couldn't catch her breath. Heather tried to move and found she was completely secured and helpless. Her bottom clenched uncontrollably and she started to feel dizzy and thought she was going to pass out. Then the whip she had chosen landed on her back. The holes helped the air pass from under it and she felt it bite into her back. She let out a cry and saw red for a second. This was going to really hurt. Another blow landed a little farther down her back and this time she felt her blood rush through her body like a raging river. Then the blows started to come at a fairly steady interval and Mr. Stafford was working his way down her body. She became a little more used to the pain and suddenly, the thought of her beating on the table came back into her head. It hurt allot and he was soon going to be whipping her private area in front of everybody. She knew she had asked for this and wasn't entirely regretting it. The whip was starting on her tail bone then and heather felt her nub flush with blood knowing it was going to be beaten very soon. Her head started to spin. It was close now. The whip hit her right on her butt hole and she felt it shock up inside of her. She knew she was going to be cleansed and became anxious for it. Her upper body started to rock up and down and then the moment came when the whip hit her private area. It hurt and sent an electric shock up and down her body. She spasmed over the log and was hit again in the same place. Heather saw stars. Then the whip worked down to her legs and thighs. She felt the welting skin raise and knew she was really being damaged by it. She wanted the whip back on her private area to cleanse her body like before. Just when she didn't think she could stand it, she was hit again on her nub. Heather screamed. A feeling of the end of the world started to approach her and the whip continued to beat her private area raw. Heather could not believe the pain and yet she wanted it harder because there was pleasure there too. She didn't care how much she would be torn up, she had to finish. The whipping kept on and part of her wished it would stop before it killed her and the other part needed to keep being hit until the joy came. Then she felt it building finally and didn't need to be whipped anymore for it to come. He continued to beat her crotch anyway. The joy came. Her head pounded and she felt pure pleasure interrupted with jolts of pain as she was still whipped while she was forced into the second orgasm of her life, screaming bloody murder as the village people looked on. Heather was weakened by the intense reaction her body had from being beaten into an orgasm. She dropped her head down between her arms and her body jerked now and then from over stimulation of her nerves. Mr. Stafford finally stopped whipping her crotch when she could no longer scream and struggle. Heather was dazed and drifted in and out of the nightmare she had just experienced. Then more pain followed on her private area and a shock bolted through her body from something new. She felt sharp jolts of intense pain on her crotch and then felt something huge push deep into her body from her beaten entrance. It took a moment to realize that Mr. Stafford was raping her right there in front of everybody. His hands held her skinny sides and she felt the wooden handle on her right side as he still held it in the hand that was holding her waist. The pain, the weakening, the humiliation, and the rape all caused Heather complete misery and she began to moan. Mr. Stafford misinterpreted her moans for pleasure and let go of her side to start whipping her back once more while he pressed into her deeply. The contorted position she was bound in caused Mr. Stafford to enter her deeper then he'd ever been in before and he had no regard for how it hurt her inside, not to mention how much his whipping her further was doing to Heather's state of mind. She passed out sometime during his forced public breeding ofher. Heather drifted in and out of fevered dreams for what seemed like an eternity. In them, she was being beaten and raped by the entire village over and over again. It was a nightmare that never ended for her and every once in a while she would wake up a little bit to see the ceiling of her bare room then drift back into that abyss of despair. Then suddenly, she awoke and became fully aware of her room. She lay for a second, grateful to be out of hell she had been stuck in. Then, slowly, she felt the actual pain and remembered what had happened vividly. Heather began to cry huge gut wrenching sobs. She was filled with the emotional pain as well as the physical and it poured from her unending. She tried to curl up to a ball but the movement brought agony on top of everything else. Her crying brought Mr. Stafford into the room. Heather saw him enter and cringed back against the wall. He sat on the bed next to her and she was bouncing between anger and revulsion inside. How could she have even liked this... monster? His face looked like a gargoyle to her now. Any minute he would drag her to the table and beat her again. Heather didn't think she would survive. "Are you hungry?" he asked her. Heather's insides were churning. Food didn't sound good to her at all. She said nothing. She could barely look at him. "Yes." he continued. "I can imagine what you must think of me right now. Believe it or not, the look on your face could have gotten you killed then. Koetee was watching for a way to get back at me. I had to do what I did to show that I had you under control." He beat her and raped her right there in the street with everybody watching. This was beyond anything Heather could imagined. She thought he had enjoyed it too much for it to be anything else. "I may have gone overboard, I admit." he conceded. "I wasn't sure what was required. Your an American. Not a popular people here." Mr. Stafford looked at Heather and saw the pain on her face, reflecting the turmoil inside. "You were out for days. You will have permanent scars. You were close to dying." He paused. "You shouldn't have had to go through that much punishment. For that, I am truly sorry." It was the thought of him taking her out to be whipped again that kept Heather from calling him every name she could think of. She hated him more than she had ever hated anything in her life. "You will need to rest for many days here. I suspend all duties for you until then. I will bring you something to eat in a moment." Mr. Stafford stood up. At the door, he said, "I did promise to let you go home after all this, I still mean that." Heather felt sick inside. A tiny part of her thought he had let her down somehow. It was over a week before she was well enough to resume her chores. The hardest parts were going to the bathroom. He had not only beaten her private area raw, but had also beaten her butt hole and this proved to be the most painful part to use when she went to the bathroom. He had given her multiple doses of the cream to help heal, and it was soothing even though she would never admit it to him. She still had the nightmares though. He allowed her to gradually ease into the housework slowly and even to use the bathtub now and then with bath salts. She no longer was forced to use the toilet for her personal hygiene. She was also given a torn dress to wear. It was torn because most of the stained parts were torn off. Heather recognized it as the one she was wearing when she cleaned the shed. Most of it was missing including the whole back and the skirt up to the middle of her bum. Eventually the nightmares faded and it was almost a month before he even strapped her to the table for a light whipping on the bottom. That was very scary for her and it was the memory of the village square more then the actual whipping on the table that caused her pain. Then she was back on the dirty potion and was soon to be bred again. Heather dreaded the breeding. The only memories for her were of pain and being tied down. She couldn't remember why she didn't fight being whipped that day. Why didn't she run? Anything would have been better then what she suffered. In the back of her mind, in a tiny voice, was the memory of her two orgasms but she refused to even acknowledge it. To her, being beaten and raped was worse then dying. No one in their right mind would want that for themselves. When it was time, Heather was unprepared for it. She promised herself that she would bolt before he could grab her but he caught her by surprise right after she'd just eaten while on the table. He stood up and was blocking any route out and she ended up laying face up on the table hoping not to make it worse by fighting when he had her cold. Her arms were strapped above her head and her legs were belted at the other end together before he gave her some swings with the lighter strap he used on her the very first time. He didn't hit any of the areas that were still healing but Heather didn't want to give him credit for that. She lay in terror while he entered her after hitting a few times lightly for effect. Heather tried to tune her mind away but the memories were worse then the event she was suffering right then. She ended up staying away from thinking and let herself feel what he was doing to her body, finding that at least she would be able to get through it this time at least. She felt the final cum from him and the stuff he was spurting into her body. She also felt is penis quiver just before and had a sense of deja-vu while he ejaculated into her. She was itching from her private area after he got off of her on top of the now dull throbbing going on inside of her. When he let her up finally after her body's natural defenses quit jerking her limbs, she started hurting more from where she was buckled down on the wrists and ankles. Mr. Stafford had a jar of some cream and he used it on them as well as some of her older wounds. They did feel better after that. Heather felt worn and used for the rest of the day. She felt relief at having gotten through the rough part and didn't mind doing her normal chores. As long as she was doing them, the less chance he would catch her again. Or so she hoped. She didn't get as dirty and she wasn't allowed to clean herself much that night. She found she wouldn't be after he had her, to keep the chances of her pregnancy higher. She went to bed in what was left of her dress and found that it was too uncomfortable the way it bunched and rubbed her sore skin. It seemed all right to wear when she was up, but she ended up sleeping naked anyway. The next time was later that week. Having remembered how easy it went, Heather tried to act like she did the last time hoping that it would make him go easy on her again. He did. Or at least it went the same until he was in her for a little while. That's when her wrists really started to burn. She was reopening her wounds there in places. It caused her to squirm much more now that most of her pain was more localized and thus more acute. Then she would bump him with her pubic bone and start another squirming fit. For some reason, this started to bug Mr. Stafford but instead of taking it out on her, he stopped to reposition her limbs a little. "You need to hold the ropes in your palms." he explained. "Turn the rope towards the inside of your wrist and hold it. This will allow you flex your body without doing further damage to yourself. Same with your feet. Have to rope come from them on the inside of your ankles. Yes, that's it. Try not to let go." Heather couldn't stop from jerking her body, he kept hitting raw nerves outside and in, but it was easier to pull on the rope then to twists against it. It gave her a way to express her pain. She wondered if she could end up pulling one loose. She lay for ten minutes again and got control of her breathing and spasms. Then he released her and treated her wrists and ankles before dismissing her. Thought about rinsing herself out and hoping it would keep him from getting what he wanted, but he would just keep her longer, and she wanted to go home. Instead she just washed her hands and went to prepare supper for him. She ate on the table without making a major effort to clean it's surface and Mr. Stafford didn't seem to mind. At the time, she thought to heck with it. It's not that bad. But eating on it later she kept thinking about what Mr. Stafford was putting in her from his own body. She hadn't really seen it yet and kept thinking it was in the food. She kept it down and then was dismissed for bed. She dreamed of being raped in the village street but this time was pulling the ropes like she was supposed to. It would be like that for a couple of months and Heather fell into a routine. Everything predictable felt safer to her, but she was still afraid of being pregnant. She forgot about that when she was forced to orgasm again the bad way. She thought it would be just another forced breeding at first but knew something was going to be different when her arms were bound together wrist to elbow behind her back. By then all she could do was watch helplessly as Mr. Stafford brought out the wooden leg spreader from before. Then it was the cream he claimed helped her become fertile. The stuff that had an icy burn to it. He put it directly onto her crotch without binding her to the table and she was bent over for him until he pushed the stuff inside of her with his fingers, then her knees and loose legs straitened and she was flat, face down on the table. She clenched but he was able to get something rough up inside of her butt hole anyway. While she lay there, feeling the cream slowly begin to work, Mr. Stafford placed roped cuffs to her ankles but she couldn't tell what the ropes were tied to. Heathers eyes started to tear and blink and she didn't know why. Then she felt the heat start from much deeper under her skin then before and the lump pressed at her from inside. By the time the sensation started to reach the surface of her private area, Heather was breathing heavy and her head felt a little dizzy. Mr. Stafford held up two whips in front of her slightly tilted vision. The smaller one he'd been using on her, and the scary handled one from the marketplace. "Which one" he asked. There was no way she would want him to use the huge serious one that almost killed her. But she didn't know if he'd use the one she picked either. With fear, and afraid to say, she inclined her head to the lighter one. Mr. Stafford didn't pull a switch on her and he used the smaller one she hoped he would. Then ankle ropes were pulled up behind her to her arms and secured to them. Heather was then flipped over and the pole inside her bent knees started to dig into her a little. With both arms under her middle back, her belly flattened and her chest stuck out as well as her front mound up higher and spread wide from the pole between her legs. The cream burned on. It made her get a weird itch as well as made her throb hard in a way that felt like her nub would burst open from inside pressure. He touched her there one more time to apply a dab more of cream and the touch made it feel better for a second. Then it was exposed to the air and it started to irritate her. Her hips spasmed a couple of times while she lay there, feeling the lump inside of her bottom work it's way deeper when she did. Then she saw Mr. Stafford get into position beside her and ready to start swinging the strap at her. She closed her eyes and waited for the first blow. It came down onto her chest just around her lower ribs. Heather's eyes jerked open and the way her shoulders lay on the table forced her head to look down upon herself and she saw him swing on her again. He was swinging lightly like he had for the last couple of months and right then it hardly hurt at all. She knew he was going to work his way down her body and knew it would end with him beating her private area hard. But the blows didn't hurt and her crotch was getting worse. The itching was really beginning to bug her. She wish she was facing down so she could rub against the table and scratch it. He worked his way to her private area finally while she squirmed around under him. It seemed to help at first but only shortly and Heather's head started to feel like it was building up pressure. He must have thought he was hurting her, but she wasn't feeling it much over what was happening to her under her skin. She was about to go nuts the way her private area bugged her. "Harder." she whispered, hoping he wouldn't hear her say such a stupid thing to ask for. But he did start hitting her a little harder without looking at her eyes. That seemed to keep the itching at bay for a bit and Heather didn't feel so bad for asking for it. But that too was short lived. If only he'd hit her just a little harder still it could feel better again. But she realized that it might still stop helping after a bit. The sudden truth hit her and Heather started to seriously cry because of it. He had to really beat her if this was to finish. There was no way out. That was the only thing that would stop the cream from getting worse. Her nose was getting runny and her face felt flush and wet as she sobbed the thing she almost couldn't bare to say. "P.. p.. please. Hit... me...." a deep breath." Hit me w... with the other.... The other whip-p." Mr. Stafford stopped and looked at her face. Heather felt totally ashamed as she cried under his stare. Then he nodded solemnly and reached for the nasty looking instrument. She closed her eyes, committed, and let the burning run through her without fighting it anymore. This would be over soon. He wasted no time and she felt the awful first blow just above her mound. It felt like it ripped into her for a second and then became bareable again. At least he was starting close and she would have to suffer her whole body being ripped into with the bad whip. The next blow landed right over her private front and she felt the powerful sting jolt her body to freeze solid. The room tilted upside down and she thought she would fall to the ceiling, but another swing snapped her out of that weird sensation and that sense of doom made it's presence felt deep inside of her. She couldn't concentrate on anything more than the moment and lived between each horrible beat of the whip, with the blows launching her into fits of electric light and shock. The sense of doom got closer and Heather saw it for what it was. She welcomed it and then she was propelled into a euphoria of pains which made her feel like she was screaming. As they finally subsided after a forever, she realized that she had been screaming. Her throat felt very raw for certain. She remembered why she didn't fight the second time before passing out. Heather didn't think she was out for very long. When she awoke, she was still on the table, although her arms and legs were unbound and stretched out. She had also been treated with the healing cream everywhere except the private area itself. She felt a deep throb, more like a pounding, there and could feel what was left of the lump in her butt hole breaking up. She felt weak but not too weak to lift herself up. It hurt to sit strait so she leaned to the side while she got her bearings. Nobody else was there with her and it was dark out. The back of her head hurt a little too. Maybe she had been laying there for a while. Finally, since there was nothing else to do, Heather scooted gently off of the table. Her legs felt wobbly but she'd been through that before now. She was able to walk to where her garment was and she let it slide over her head. Mr. Stafford was sitting in the living room, reading. He put the book down and looked at her calmly. Heather stood in front of him like she had been taught to. "Do you feel cleansed properly now?" he asked her. Heather nodded. "Yes. That was very enlightened of you to ask for something that your animal side would have run from. I'm impressed. Take off you outfit." Heather blinked before she understood that last part. Was he going to treat her or rape her? She didn't know, but since she could ask to be beaten, stripping seemed minor now. She stood naked in front of Mr. Stafford and he looked her little body up and down. Heather tried not to fidget. So he was looking at her naked, he'd been doing allot worse to her. This should be nothing. It was still unnerving. She didn't see him pull out the brighter garment until he handed it to her. It was the dress he'd bought for her at the market before the ugly ordeal. It brought back memories and Heather felt mixed feelings about it. It looked more comfortable then what she'd been wearing lately, and she might be able to sleep in it. She would like to have something on at night just for her dignity. Heather gently took it from his hand. It seemed like a collection of strings and squares of a thin cotton type of cloth. She had no idea how it was supposed to wear on her. Mr. Stafford saw the confusion and he leaned forward to help her with it. Heather almost shied back from him but stopped figuring he wasn't going to hurt her anymore. He had already just done that earlier. With his help, she had it on her slim body correctly, but it didn't feel like she was wearing it right. It was a soft light, but thick, string around the back of her neck and it ran down the sides of her chest in front of her shoulders and around the back of her lower back before coming around the front and joining below her belly, just barely above her hairless mound. On it was draped three short squares of light cloth which simple hung to cover her tiny button nipples, and her front private area as well as some of her back butt cheeks. Heather had the impression it was the kind of outfit a stripper would wear, or maybe a belly dancer. Mr. Stafford asked her to turn around for him and she felt more embarrassment with it on then if she were naked. She turned slowly and came back around to see him smiling at her. He was getting excited by looking at her! Heather's mouth dropped. He was a pervert! All this time she thought he was doing things to her for the reasons he had been telling her, as cruel as they were, like to bare him a child or for religious reasons. But to get sexually attracted to a nine year old girl.... And he had been beating her to! He probably liked doing that as well! Heather again felt hatred towards this... this thing who called himself a man. He had been beating and raping her here for months. Heather just realized something else. He had been making her orgasm while doing it. HEADLINE: KILLER CONFESSES TO BRUTAL MURDER (ap)A man has confessed to the killing and kidnap/murder of Heather Doe and her mother, Lindsy Doe Prosecuters say they will recommend the death penalty for Sancho Miguel, a migrant worker who was caught last month with a credit card stolen from Lindsy doe, the murdered mother. Miguel confessed after a 4 day interview with police during which cont page 23 Her life became routine again. Cleaning, cooking, bathing him, drinking his potions, and being tied down and whipped lightly before he would force his way into her tiny body and try to get her pregnant. Then there were the cleansings as he called them. He wouldn't rape her during those times, but he managed to bring her to those painful/pleasurable conclusions every time. He even refused to use the heavy whip, forcing her to ask for it again, further humiliating her to him. Heather came to feel that those times were at least about her and not him. For some reason, she knew she felt more pleasure than he did during the cleansings, despite them being accompanied by massive pain. The garment still felt naked to her and she didn't like the way she would sometimes catch him looking at her when she worked in front of him, but he tried to hide it anyway and even looked embarrassed himself when caught. She wore it to bed too. Heather became used to it and it never seemed to get cold even at night. She awoke one night from a thunderstorm and heard massive amounts of rain fall. She hadn't heard rain forever and it made her realize how long she'd been here. She had no idea what month it was. She felt lost. The rain kept her awake most of the night and scared her. Then the day came that she found blood coming from her private area. Heather was scared that the beatings had finally torn her open and she would bleed to death without a doctor or hospital. She ran to the bathroom to get toilet paper to stop it with. Mr. Stafford was sitting on the toilet when she came to a screeching halt at the door. She had no idea what to say. He saw the blood and actually became concerned for her. Then he started to laugh out loud. This angered Heather but she didn't say anything. Then he scooped her up and she felt panic, but he was dancing with her instead. She felt uncomfortable being held like that but he didn't care. Why would he be so happy that she might die? Then he told her. "Your having your period!" he beamed. "Soon I'll have my child." Heather felt relief at finding she wasn't going to die, then fear at being pregnant, then hope at being able to go home soon. Too many feelings at once. She didn't know what to feel as a whole. Then he put her down and when to do something with excitement. Heather needed company right then and he was all she had, so she followed him into his room. Mr. Stafford was marking something in a notebook and looking around his side, saw that it was a calender. She read the month. It read "February". Heather had been here for most of a year! Then he left to do something else with excitement and she was left standing there alone with the horrible truth. She had turned Ten a few months back and didn't know it. The shock wore off and was replaced with a deep sadness. Heather fell to the floor and cried her eyes out. A week after the end of her period was followed by constant breeding attempts. Heather spent a good part of each day belted to the table in various positions while Mr. Stafford ejaculated into her as often as his body would allow. Sometimes without even a whipping first. Heather preferred him to whip her lightly. It made her feel as if she wasn't cooperating with him as much, and she gotten pretty used to the feel so it didn't hurt much at all. She became pretty sore inside at the end of that week and then they went back to the normal routine. A few weeks later, she had another period. She didn't like the way they felt to her, in part of what they meant would be happening to her soon, and also because of sudden fits of anger or sadness. She talked back to Mr. Stafford once during those times and he slapped her face quickly. It stung and she felt shock from it before seething, but she remembered to hold her tongue afterwards. Then it was time to breed again and she found herself back on the table with a full grown man forcing himself deep into her person repeatedly. One time she woke on the table and found that she had been tied there all night. Mr. Stafford came in not to long after and raped her without even a word. His breath stunk that time and it turned her stomach. She waited for her next period, but it never came. Heather was pregnant. She started to worry nights about it. She was still a kid by her standards, though she knew that in many countries, girls had children when they weren't much older than her. And here she was, in one of them. And pregnant too. But there were no hospitals or doctors like back home. What if something went wrong and she died? Would her family even know? Family! She hadn't thought about them in months. Or was it longer? Why didn't her mother try to find her? Or maybe she has been. Was her father still in prison? They had given him a 46 months, but he might have gotten out early for good behavior. Maybe they were trying to trace her from airport records. Heather couldn't remember much of anything about her flying here at all now, and the phone card her mother had given her was long gone now. Probably used up or cancelled. Heather was going to have a baby. She laid with her belly showing at night to see if any changes were happening yet. It was Mr Stafford's baby in her. It was a little sickening to her to think about that so she'd try not to. She still hated him, but not as much now, though he should have went to jail, not her father. But then he did lose his family because of her father. But maybe he had been treating them bad as well, and they were better off dead. She remembered him crying over a picture. Heather found her emotions more confusing lately. She couldn't stop thinking about her having a baby either. The whippings stopped for a few months, although she was still working the house pretty hard on some days. She found she would sometimes discharge too and it would make her feel gross. A few mornings, she woke up sick and Mr. Stafford told her it was natural. He even rubbed her back a few nights and though she would be afraid still, found that it did make her relax. Maybe the pregnancy would make him treat her better. Heather noticed her belly growing slightly just under her belly button. She wondered how big she would get. Then one day, Mr. Stafford consulted a calender and then ordered her onto the table. Heather was shocked at that, thinking he must need to treat her for something. But when he stripped her naked and buckled her face up and spread apart, she saw him holding the small whip and didn't understand. He whipped her pretty hard, taking care to avoid her belly. Heather cried and squirmed. She did remember to hold onto the ropes though. Her face screwed up with sobbing, she asked him why afterwards. Mr. Stafford explained. "I want a girl. There is a period when the sex of the baby can be influenced and prevent a male if the mother is stressed during that period." "But what if you kill it?" she asked, still sobbing. "Would you rather carry it to full term and then have to do it all over again if it's a boy?" Heather didn't even want this one. She shook her head. "Well, then. You'll have to just go along with this, won't you?" Those few months were the worst. Sometimes, instead of beating her, he would bind her up tightly on the table in an contorted position, taking care not to pressure her womb in any way, and leave her like that for hours. It would end up being pretty painful to move after she was released from that. Other times, she would be forced to hold herself there on all fours while he whipped her private area, threatening to use the heavy whip if she moved. Heather would cry during the whole time. But the worst thing he did was give her a choice between the heavy whip or his putting his penis into her mouth and making her suck on it until he ejaculated and then making her swallow it. This really made Heather sick to her stomach, but anything was better then the heavy whip. But when she started to get used to him having sex with her mouth, he forced himself hard into her throat, choking her and then ejaculating right into the back of her throat and strait into her belly. She wouldn't let him near her face the next time and he didn't bother to tie her down for the big whip. He simply picked up one ankle and whipped at her crotch while she tried to twists free from his grip. If she put her hands between her legs, he whip at her harder and everywhere else until she was exhausted and could no longer fight. That was pretty bad, but it didn't end there. Heather was starting to show and she looked pretty big already because of her age and small size. Her once tiny nipples were also starting to grow and become lumps as well. Mr. Stafford whipped them as well and they really felt sensitive to his blows. Heather hated every day during the first months of her pregnancy. She woke up with dread, spent the day in fear and terror, and went to bed miserable and in pain. The last things he did to her were pretty painful and almost unbearable. He had her on all fours and whipped her crotch and then got on behind her and entered her private area, but not deeply. Just enough to get his thing wet then he pulled it out and pressed it slowly into her butt hole. Heather tried to clench herself tight but he worked himself into her and it was a pain worse than any of her rapes had been. He went as deep into her as he could too. It was a sickening thing to feel him inside there. It felt so stretched out from his size and she thought he was almost up to her chest. He held still for a moment and then started to push and pull himself in and out of her which sent little spikes of fire up her colon. He ejaculated into her there, but she couldn't feel it happen. Then the last thing he did to her the next day was to tie her face up and spread on the table, but this time with a cloth under her. Then he held lit candles and let the wax drop onto her body from her toes to her neck, concentrating the most on her most sensitive places. He left her like that for most of the day, which became uncomfortable simply because she couldn't move. Then one day, it was over. Heather was getting quite a belly on her and started to have back problems from it. She couldn't believe how big the baby inside her was getting. Heather had serious concerns about it's size and giving birth to it, or her she now thought. She felt sure it was a girl not just because of Mr. Stafford, but because... well, she just knew. Mr. Stafford was a kidnapper, rapist, child abuser, wife beating monster to her. But the baby didn't know that. The baby hasn't done anything wrong. She wished she could take the baby with her and keep the cruel monster from getting his prize. That would be great! Heather couldn't think of any way she could make that happen. The last month was torture. She was too heavy to move and her belly was huge. Heather couldn't even stand up. She could see cracks in her skin from it being horribly stretched out and knew it would be that way forever. There was no way she could pass this baby through her private area. Then she started her labor and Mr. Stafford moved her to her table where her ankles were lightly buckled apart and her wrists were buckled as well, but this time with a lot of slack. Some towns people were there to help including a couple of women. They wiped her sweat and held her hands but nobody spoke to her. Nobody spoke any English at all in fact. She was in labor for almost the whole day. Heather was very weak, but she couldn't eat or sleep. It was something like the nightmares from her public beating and rape and she kept thinking it was the end of the world. The relief she felt when the baby finally passed through her was so satisfying that she laughed out loud and didn't care if she was beat for it. Nobody beat her. She was given the baby to hold and felt wonder. She had done that! Mr. Stafford named the baby "Shanry" with the accent on the second syllable. It was his first wife's name he said. He came over to where she was sitting with a baby bottle after everybody left and told her that she would be going home soon. "You have completed your final task now. I will book you on a flight as soon as you are able to walk." He stopped a moment and then asked the question that even Heather had thought about. "Unless you would like to stay here and raise the child with me." Heather thought about it for only a moment. She looked at the baby. Hell, she thought, she was still a kid herself. This place was a living hell for her. She didn't want to be stuck with a screaming baby on top of that. "No. I'm going home like you promised!" Then with a worry. "Will you really let me go?" "I would rather you stay and help me. I've grown quite fond of you, you know. But I am a man of my word." The look on her face told him she wouldn't be changing her mind. "I won't keep you." The flight home was almost a blur. She was taken to an airport and Heather paid attention to everything. She knew where she was finally and had been given a shirt and pair of jeans before the trip. Mr. Stafford didn't ride on the plane with her. He stood at the gate with little Shanry. Heather planned on really bitching him out for all the misery. She wanted to see him dead. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him. She wanted to kill him and take Shanry away to an foster home. But when it was time to go, the words didn't happen. She just wanted to be done with it all. No hugs or kisses. No cussing. Nothing. One last look at the baby she'd been forced to carry, but it didn't feel like hers anymore. It never did. She looked at it and felt more like she used to before this whole thing started. Heather was almost eleven now and she wanted to be a kid again. Mr. Stafford handed her a card and sheet of paper and then she departed. She held them without thinking about them for an hour into the flight. Then she remembered and looked. It was a phone card, maybe the same one, and a short letter explaining that her mother was dead but her father would be glad to see her again. It had his phone number. He was out of jail. Heather felt loss at her mother being dead but had nothing to cry. She rubbed her face to see if this was a dream and felt the collar on her neck. She almost couldn't rip it off fast enough. Heather made headlines back home. A national committee was formed to find the vile crook who had done so much damage to an innocent child. Speeches were made, international actions undertaken, and world wide searches as well. Nobody ever found Mr. Stafford or the child he made Heather bare him. Heather never got the chance to be a kid. She never could get close to her father. She blamed him for getting her into the whole mess in the first place. The attention died down and Heather went on with her life. She hated Mr. Stafford and dreamed of beating him and making him pay for his crimes. ________________________________ Shanry was excited. She would be turning nine soon and her father told her about a surprise coming today to their little house near a village by the mountain. She did her chores as fast as she could. Her father told her how proud of her he was. She had learned English as well, since they spoke it around the house, and he had taught her from home anyway because there were no schools for her. He told her she had a good work ethic. An old Chevy cab pulled up to the house on the hill where they lived. A young woman got out with a suitcase and walked up unsurely to the front door. Shanry's father opened the door for her and they looked at each other at eye level. The young woman gasped a little at first but steeled herself for the visit. "Mr. Stafford." she said. Shanry sided with her father and looked at the woman at the door. She seemed like a strong willed and smart person. It must be her personal teacher, Shanry thought. Pop spoke with a smile. "Hello Heather. I'm very glad you came back." Then he turned to his daughter and said, "I'd like you to meet your mother. She's come back to live with us again." END <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ ------- ASSM Moderation System Notice-------- This post has been reformatted by the ASSM Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+