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Message-ID: <31199asstr$994043403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Pedro Vila <PedroVila@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


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
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