index


Message-ID: <36590asstr$1022184609@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Alocer Loki <alocerloki@subdimension.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Paddington Bare, Chapter 3 (M/b, Mg, Mfg, nc, pedo, tort)
Date: Thu, 23 May 2002 16:10:09 -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




<1st attachment begin>

Paddington Bare, Chapter 3
Alocer Loki 2002
Story Codes: M/b M/g M/fg nc tort humiliation 

Disclaimer
This story is not for everyone, and will contain some
quite graphical (at least to the best of my ability) 
dipictions of pre-teen boys and girls in extreme sexual
situations. These include but are not limited to rape
and sexual torture. If these subjects offend you, then
I suggest that you do not read it.

I the author do not condone any of the actions depicted within

If you got past that, I am going to assume that you, like me
are a sick fuck who gets off on the rape and torture
of preteens. If not what the fuck are you doing still reading
this?

If you wish to contact me, the author, I can be reached
directly at: alocerloki@subdimension.com
Thanks and Enjoy the story
Alocer Loki

Chapter 3
The seemingly ancient carriage chugged along the line; the 
dull thud-thud was having a hypnotic effect on Timmy as he 
stared out the window into the blackness of the London 
Underground. He could feel himself drifting off. The twelve 
year old forced himself to sit upright and rubbed his eyes. He 
glanced along to his left at the only other occupant of the 
brightly lit carriage. 

Timmy hated riding the tube alone, but it was the only real 
way of getting across central London, so it was an evil that 
must be endured, but that fact never stopped Timmy from 
getting nervous. His heart thudded in his chest, and he took a 
deep breath. The boy looked back out of the window throwing 
his mind elsewhere trying to calm himself down. He was always 
nervous, about everything. He glanced back up at the man. A 
short while ago, two old ladies had been sat next to this man, 
then, although Timmy knew the man kept looking at him, he kept 
his glances short, if frequent. Now his stare never broke. It 
was really making Timmy feel uncomfortable. The man licked his 
lips and pushed his hand into his pocket. The navy-blue and 
white security uniform did nothing to calm the boy's nerves.

Timmy threw his mind adrift once again. Letting his thoughts 
settle on the image of small Kerry, the eight-year-old beauty 
from his estate. Earlier that week the sweet and shy girl, she 
had told him that he was her boyfriend, and had given him a 
kiss. "You are very good looking do you know that?"

Timmy's thoughts were wrenched back to the present, he looked 
up at the security guard towering over him. "Umm," he 
murmured. "Thank you sir."

The man smiled and sat down next to Timmy. "Do you like being 
a pretty little boy?" he asked.

Timmy frowned. "Please sir," he moaned.

The man placed his hand on Timmy's thigh and squeezed it. The 
boy shifted. "Please what?" asked the man.

"I don't... oh please stop," he said.

The man smiled. "Why my pretty little slut, don't tell me you 
aren't enjoying  this. Why I bet..." with out warning the man 
thrust his hand between Timmy's legs. His hand grabbing hold 
of the small boy's willy. Timmy's face flared up red as the 
man clutched onto his erection. The boy closed his eyes. He 
wanted to move. To fight, to do anything, but he found himself 
petrified. The carriage started to slow. Timmy bit his lip. He 
had traveled this route a hundred times, this was too soon, 
the stop wasn't yet. The train ground to a halt. Trains 
breaking down in the middle of the line was nothing strange, 
but this one couldn't have happened at a worse time. 

"Don't worry little girl," said the man. Stroking his hand up 
and down the length of the boy's small cock.

"Oh please stop," sobbed the child.

The man stood up and ran his hand around the silver badge sewn 
onto the front of Timmy's navy blue blazer. "You know what? 
I've always been a sucker for a boy in uniform," sniggered the 
man.  

Without so much as a hint of warning the man grabbed hold of 
the boy's head. Pressing his face between both of his hands he 
pulled the child forwards to him. "Stop!" cried the boy.

The man pressed his mouth over the boy's lips. Timmy gagged as 
he felt the tongue enter his mouth. He tried to pull away, he 
tried hard. He tried to close his mouth, but the way the man 
was holing his face caused the the child's molars to bite into 
the insides of his cheeks. Timmy moaned loudly. A shrill whine 
which filled the carriage.

The man finally let go and pulled his face back. A large grin 
was spread across his lips. "Why fuck me," he muttered, "you 
are a great kisser."

The man shook his head and chuckled. "But," he then spat. "You 
tried to bite me you little bitch."

Timmy's eyes widened. "No," he squeaked.

The  man snorted. Timmy didn't even see which side the blow 
came from, it knocked his head laterally, and was held upright 
only by the arm-rests of the tubes seat. The boy shrank down 
as small as he could get, and shivered. "Please stop," he 
blubbered.

"Get up," snarled the man taking a firm grip onto Timmy's dark 
brown curls.

The child had no choice but to comply with the man. He was 
pulled to his feet and dragged into the centre of the 
carriage. "Keep still," said the man, and he then took a seat.

Eventually the boy looked up, and into the eyes of the 
monstrous man. He was still grinning. Gleaming obvious joy 
from the little boy's discomfort and pain. Timmy had suffered 
at the hands of school bullies but that had been nothing 
compared to this. "Turn around," said the man. "Stick your bum 
out for me."

Timmy looked at the man for a few moments before, slowly, he 
turned around. He lent over a little, sticking his arse out 
towards the man. The only thought that went through his mind 
at that moment was the thought that doing what he was told 
would save Timmy the pain. He would have done anything not to 
be hit again.

"Wriggle your arse little boy, yes that is right."

Timmy choked on his tears. This wasn't so bad. He would do 
things for this man, nobody would ever know. He could live 
with that. Even as he wriggled his cute little bum at the man, 
the thing Timmy feared the most was those same bullies 
discovering this. Timmy closed his eyes and let his mind 
wonder back to Kerry. "Turn back around stand up straight."

Timmy wiped his eyes and stood up. He inched around until he 
stood facing his assailant. "Take out your willy for me, I 
want to see it."

"W-what?" stammered Timmy.

"You heard me," said the man. As he spoke those words he 
loosened his belt and pulled it from his trousers. He folded 
it over and raised an eyebrow. "Be a good girl, and I won't 
have to use this," the man snapped the belt together causing 
Timmy to jump.

"Y-yes sir," whispered the little boy.

Not for the first time, but certainly the most desperate 
occasion, Timmy cursed his penis being erect. This was meant 
to be natural. But why now. He reached down and un-zipped his 
trousers, and pulled his cock over the waist-band of his y-
fronts and out of his fly.

"My word," said the man. "You are a big boy aren't you?" 

Timmy felt his cheeks burning. He felt like dying there and 
then, just curling into a ball and dying. His cock had been 
growing fast for a short time, but the mere sight of the 
monstrous lump that bulged in the man's trousers was 
frightening. "Come here."

The boy shuffled forwards, and cringed as the man reached out 
to take the child's cock into his hand. "Do you wank yet?" he 
asked.

"Oh god," breathed the boy. He felt as if his face were on 
fire.

"Answer the question," said the man.

"Y-yes sir," moaned Timmy.

The  man grinned and started to stroke Timmy's cock. Pulling 
the foreskin back and forth over the head of his cock. "Oh," 
moaned Timmy. "Oh-p-pl..."

"Shh," said the man. 

He placed his other hand on Timmy's belly. The boy's breathing 
began to speed up. "Oh you are such a little slut," sniggered 
the man.

Timmy closed his eyes, his hands curled into fists. He wanted 
to be anywhere but here. He bit his lip, he mustn't cum. No he 
wasn't going to cum. 



He needn't have worried.



*****

The one thing more horrific than the screams of her baby 
brother, were the vivid, and dream like memories of Nicola. 
The look on the dead girls face, was fresh on her memory, the 
taste of her blood still on her tongue. It made Kerry feel 
sick. Her head spun, and she clutched tightly onto the stuffed 
clown, finding some comfort in the old toy. 

It was the screams that had her attention now. Jakey hadn't 
stopped screaming for what seemed like hours. Her father had 
decided that the six-year-old boy needed some proper use, for 
missing out on what had happened at the school. The words 
still hung in her head. "Oh Mummy," sobbed Kerry.

The child knew that her mother was not going to come, not 
going to help her, but now, more than any time since the 
funeral, Kerry missed her mother. The lump in her chest grew 
larger and tears filled her eyes again.

The screaming stopped, but, thankfully, Kerry could still hear 
her six year old brother sobbing. Nothing scared Kerry more 
than her father killing one of them. She knew that he was 
capable of it, and that scared her.

The door opened, and briefly Kerry considered pretending to be 
asleep, but she knew, with her fathers state, that it wouldn't 
do any good. So she sat still, totally naked waiting for him. 
When he pushed his head around the door, her father smiled. "I 
have a present for you," he said.

Kerry swallowed. She knew that whatever it was, she didn't 
want it, yet she dared not say. "T-thank you Daddy," the girl 
said.

Ken pushed the door open and held out his hands. The child 
squinted, trying to make out the objects in the dim light. 
After a few moments she realised that she really had no clue 
as to what the items were, but she knew that she really didn't 
want to find out. "This," said Ken, elevating his right hand 
slightly, to show Kerry the chrome chain, with two wicked 
looking clips, much like the type used on electrical wires, on 
either end. "This is what they call a nipple chain. Although 
you aren't allowed any clothes while inside the house any 
more. I want you to wear this all the time that we are alone, 
and, if I want, you will wear it under your school clothes."

Kerry could only nod. They had had it explained to them. The 
both of them, Kerry and Jake, were no longer allowed outside 
the house unless it was to go to school. To that affect all of 
their clothes, baring their school uniform, had been taken 
away from them. They had been told that eventually they would 
be given more suitable outfits. Something called fetish 
clothes. Kerry didn't like the sound of that, but until then 
they were to remain naked.

"They are going to hurt like fuck," her father laughed. "Come 
here so we can try them on."

"Ohh," squeaked Kerry, and, shrinking down as small a she 
could, she clutched the clown close to her chest.

Ken frowned. "I know what my mistake was," said forwards until 
he stood over the child. "I let you think that you were still 
a person. That you might have some fucking choice left in your 
life."

The man spat, the gooey glob landed on Kerry's cheek and the 
child moaned loudly. Ken reached down and grabbed hold of the 
stuffed toy. He wrenched it free of his daughter's hands and 
with a snort tore its head from its body. "No!" screamed 
Kerry.

Ken threw the broken toy into the corner of the room. "Don't 
worry slut," he sneered. "It all goes in the morning. Every 
fucking scrap. You are my fuck-toy, and fuck toys don't own 
anything. You will sleep with your brother. I'll clear out a 
space in one of the cupboards. There are a hundred better 
things I can do with these rooms than use them to accommodate 
two worthless shit eating bit's of cunt."

"Oh Daddy," sobbed Kerry.

"Shut it," shouted Ken. "Now get the fuck up and stand with 
your hands behind your fucking back." The man lashed out with 
those words, striking his daughter across the face with his 
open hand. "Up now!"

The child scrambled to her feet, her cheek burned and her head 
was spinning, but she knew that she had to do what she was 
told. She didn't want to know what would happen if she dared 
disobey him again.

So she stood up. With her hands clutched behind her back, the 
eight-year-old girl thrust out her flat chest and closed her 
eyes. She felt her father's fingers touch her left nipple, he 
was almost gentle about it, as he pinched and squeezed the 
pink bud. "Open your eyes," he said. "I want you to see what I 
am doing."

Kerry obeyed and looked down at her chest. She could feel her 
nipple seize up and go hard, and now could see it sticking out 
from her chest. Her father lent his head down and kissed it, 
he ran his tongue around the hard little nub and nibbled 
lightly on it. Kerry sighed. She would have been able to enjoy 
this, if she didn't know that he was about to hurt her.

Kerry could have cried when he stood up, leaving her nipple 
all wet and shiny with his spit. Her eyes darted to the chain, 
and her Daddy picked it up, and lifted a small leaver to open 
the first clip. He turned it up so that she could see the 
sharp teeth that lined either side. The child drew her lower 
lip into her mouth and bit down onto it. The grin on Ken's 
face never faltered. Her father used two fingers on one hand 
to pull the nipple between the jaw's of the clip. He pushed 
down gently on the clips, so that it just bit into her nipple. 
Kerry gasped. The top half of her body twisted. She knew now 
that this would indeed hurt. "Oh quit moaning," muttered Ken. 
"I've not even started yet. Now bitch, do you want me to go 
slowly or to just slam it shut?" 

"Oh Daddy please don't do this," pleaded Kerry.

Ken's grin twisted, as his fingers snapped together, closing 
the clip with them. Kerry threw her head back and screamed. 
The poor child tried hard to keep her hands behind her back, 
but she just couldn't. She released them from each others grip 
and they shot around her body to grab the chain. The moment 
her fingers pulled on the clip her nipple felt as if it had 
burst into flames. "Ahh," she cried and let go, her face 
twisted in pain and tears streamed down her face. As painful 
as leaving it alone was, touching it was only worse.

"Ah poor slut," chuckled Ken.

"Please Daddy, take it off," gasped Kerry.

The child's breathing came in short gasps, her small flat 
chest rose and fell rapidly and sweat now coated her slender 
frame. "You are so beautiful," said Ken. "Time for the other 
one."

"Oh Daddy, please Daddy, I'll do anything please," cried 
Kerry.

Ken reached down and tugged on the chain. "Ahh!" gasped Kerry.

"You'll do anything anyway," he said. 

Kerry screwed her eyes shut, trying desperately to ignore and 
forget the pain in her nipple. It didn't work, but she the 
longer she left it alone the more bearable it became. As long 
as it didn't move. She never even noticed her father, playing 
with her other nipple. Not until she felt the burning there as 
well. It hit her like a blow to the stomach and her eyes 
opened wide. The child let out a shrill scream."Stop it take 
it off!" she cried. "Please st..."

The punch had come out of nowhere, striking the eight year old 
girl on the jaw, it sent her sprawling backwards, and crashing 
into the side of her bed. Her chin throbbed, and she could 
taste blood, but she barely registered it over the sheer agony 
that burned in her nipples. She just wanted it to stop.

"Come on bitch up you get."

The words of her father were distant and dreamlike, but 
something within her, told her to move. It made her move, and 
her small body shifted, and, slowly, she climbed to her feet. 
Her small body trembled and the pain in her chest was almost 
overwhelming, but she knew that she had to do what she was 
told. Her Daddy was smiling again, though Kerry could barely 
see it through her tears. Ken reached forwards and took hold 
of the chain. "Ow-OW!" cried Kerry as she was pulled forwards. 

Ken pressed his face close to hers and began to lick and suck 
on his daughter. "Hey slut," he said. "We've not even done 
your second present yet."

"Oh Daddy please it hurts so much," sobbed Kerry.

Something was held up in Kerry's face. Too close for her to 
focus on it properly, but she knew it was a long, and blunt 
cone. "They call this a plug," he said. "Do you know what it 
is for."

Kerry shook her head, and bit her lip as even that slight 
movement caused the pain to fluctuate through her nipples. "It 
is to go up your arse."

"Oh no," cried Kerry. "It's too big, please don't."

"It is a little big yes," said Ken. "But it is not too big. 
Ha, now are you going to bend over like a good little slut, or 
do I have to hit you again?" Ken ran his thumb over his 
daughter's chin. Over the lump which had started to form 
there.

"Oh don't hit me," sobbed Kerry.

Ken slapped his daughter across the face again knocking her 
head to the side. "Then bend over," he demanded.

"Oh-oh," sobbed Kerry, she clutched onto her sore, red cheek 
and inched around. Trying desperately not to move the chain as 
she turned. Her Daddy slapped her across the thighs, Kerry 
jerked and screamed as the agony convulsed down her body. 
"Move it," he sneered.

Kerry quickened her pace, but only slightly. The poor child 
cried out as the pain laced through her nipples. Slowly she 
bent over, holding her chest in her hands, and whimpering as 
she moved. She could feel Ken's hands kneading her buttocks. 
Her bum still felt sore from being fucked by her teacher the 
night before. The eight year old girl closed her eyes and 
cried. She prayed, begged to god. She begged him to stop her 
suffering, she begged him to tell her why this was happening 
to her. What had she done wrong?

Her thoughts were severed as her father's finger were inserted 
into her arsehole. The discomfort of the long digit inside her 
was nothing compared to the burning pain in the child's chest, 
however it did help to keep her mind on the present. A second 
finger was pushed inside the child alongside the first. "Ahh," 
moaned Kerry.

That did hurt. Kerry shifted wriggling her backside, trying to 
make the intrusion just a little more comfortable, but for her 
efforts all she got was a rough slap across her bum. "Keep 
still," snorted her father.

Kerry couldn't, she just couldn't. It all hurt too much. She 
tried, but she just couldn't stop her legs from trembling and 
her arse from wriggling. "I said still," growled Ken. Kerry 
yelped as his hand struck her again. 

Before she could even register the blow, the hand that had 
slapped her reached round her legs and grabbed hold of  the 
eight year olds hairless cunt. Ken pulled his daughter 
backwards plunging his fingers deep into her arse. "Ahhh!" 
cried Kerry.

Keeping his grip on her cunt, his fingers pushing up inside 
the tiny girls pussy; Ken twisted the two fingers buried into 
his little girls arse and pulled them outwards until only the 
tips of his fingers remained inside of her. Then, with a 
grunt, he shoved them back in, pushing them completely inside 
her arse. "You little bitch," he sneered at her. "You fucking 
shit faced whore."

"Oh Daddy."

"You little cock teasing tart... Fucking filthy whore... that 
is what you are, a shit eating whore, aren't you... Aren't 
you!" Ken shouted as he fucked his daughters arse with his 
fingers. "Aren't you?"  

"Ow!" cried Kerry. "Yes Daddy."

"Say it cunt," said Ken.

"I'm- I'm... I'm a shit eating h-whore Daddy," sobbed the 
child.

"You like having lesbian sex with dead sluts don't you fuck 
face?"

"Ow... yes."

"Say it!" Ken shouted plunging his fingers in as deep as 
possible. 

"Ah-ah... I like having... uh... ah... lesbian... oh... sex 
with dead d-dead... oh huh huh..." the child broke off in a 
flood of tears.

Ken released the child's cunt and and slapped her across the 
vulva. "With dead what?" he asked.

"Dead sluts," screamed Kerry.

Ken pulled his fingers from Kerry's bum, and gave her a 
playful, yet hard, slap to her upturned arse. "Good girl," he 
said. "You've earned your present."

Kerry screwed her eyes shut. Nothing could be worse than this, 
nothing. Was this hell... it had to bed. She was dead, and 
even if she wasn't she was sure the pain would kill her soon. 
Even now the feeling as her arse stretched around the plug 
came as a shock. It felt like she was tearing open. She was 
sure she was. She gripped her legs and screamed. She couldn't  
help it, she just knew that she couldn't move. She had to do 
what Daddy told her. The pain was so bad... but she didn't 
want to die.

It was almost relief when the thing popped into her arse. It 
felt lodged tight, it hurt, but it was better. She wanted it 
out, she wanted the clips off of her nipples, but she knew her 
father was not listening to those pleas. They were making him 
angry, she was sure they were. So she gritted her teeth, he 
would stop soon, and they would all come off. He had to stop 
soon. He was killing her.

"Up now!" said Ken.

Kerry didn't have much of a choice in the matter, as her 
father grabbed hold of her hair. He dragged her up right and 
then pulled her around for him to see. His smile was evil, and 
nasty. Kerry didn't want to have anything to do with the man 
stood before her. She hated him so much. 

His lips laid across her mouth and his tongue pushed inside. 
Whatever pleasure she may have gained from this was now non-
existent. The pain in her nipples, and her arse, stopped her 
from feeling anything other than hurt. Oh it hurt so bad!

"Open wider," he said.

Kerry obeyed. She knew nothing else. There was nothing else. 
Only pain, hatred for her father, and the need, the urgency, 
to obey his every wish. That was the only way. The only way.

******

Her body throbbed, the pain and discomfort flowed throughout 
her with each beat of her heart. The teenage girl lay still in 
the hope that that would help keep the pain back. It didn't 
work. She shifted, somewhat relieved that her bruises caused 
no more pain. Celia placed her hands on the floor and sat up. 
She shook her head and looked down, dried blood stained her 
small tits and belly, she briefly became worried, and reached 
up to her jaw, to her swollen lip.

The memory of the man's punch was distant and vague, although 
not as dreamlike and vivid as the images of the rape she had 
suffered afterwards. She had no idea just how many men had 
fucked her, but she knew she had been fucked... she had been 
raped, again. Was that what her life was going to mean from 
now on? Rape.

"It'll be okay," she breathed. After another moments thought 
she became thankful that she had no recall of the previous 
nights events.

Not really, not from the moment Emma had used the prod... 
Emma. Celia turned her head to see the ten year old girl 
propped up against the wall. She had blood on her also, but no 
visible markings as to where it came from, although a purple 
bruise on the child's cheek was enough to make Celia cringe. 
Guilt boiled up in the back of her head. Emma had suffered 
because of her... but she was suffering because of Emma. 

The teen lowered her head and rubbed her eyes. "It's okay," 
said Emma.

Celia looked up.

"It's okay C," she said again. 

"What?" 

"Thinking that I am getting what I deserve for what I did to 
you," said the child.

"I wasn't I mean I didn't..."

Emma reached down and rubbed her pussy. Celia felt somewhat 
discomforted by it, but she knew how the child felt. "I am 
getting what I deserve," there was a bitterness to the child's 
voice. "You'll see why I do it though. They are going to do it 
to you too, I heard them say."

"Do what?" asked Celia.

Emma held out her arm, Celia blinked a few times, before she 
noticed the multitude of small red dots that covered the 
inside of her elbow. "What are they?" she asked.

"Neeldles," said Emma. "Drugs."

A silence encompassed the room for several minutes. Celia 
couldn't talk, she couldn't think. This child was an addict. 
Forced to be an addict, and she was going to suffer the same 
fate. "Heroine?" she asked, a guess, she could think of 
nothing else that was injected.

"Sometimes," said Emma. "Morphine sometimes, if we have been 
really fucked up, it happens more often than I like to think. 
Some girls are on crack."

"Oh god," breathed Celia.

"Don't worry," said Emma. "It sucks, but it helps."

"Helps..."

"Don't do that," moaned Emma sitting forwards. "Don't judge me 
C. I will never be free. I have never been free. I do what I 
need to do to survive. The drugs are all that gets me from one 
day to the next. I'll do anything for them. I don't fucking 
care."

"I-I'm sorry," said Celia. 

"Can we start over?" asked Emma. "I could use a friend."

"So could I," said Celia, she glanced about the room. "What is 
going to happen to me."

"I don't know," admitted Emma. "Girls older than eleven, or 
twelve, are usually fucked then boxed up to be sold to posh 
fuckers. But if they are going to drug you." The child shook 
her head. "I don't know."

Celia shook her head, and sighed. She shifted closer to the 
ten year old. "How many girls are there?" she asked.

Emma shrugged. "Twenty, something like that anyway. Half that 
number of boys."

"Boy's?" asked Celia.

Emma grinned. "You know not all perverts like cunt," she 
sniggered. 

"What?" asked Celia with a giggle.

"Don't worry about it," laughed Emma. 

Celia laughed. "I wish I had eaten now," she said.

"Well, I did warn you. A tip. Escaping isn't easy until you 
are let loose. By that time you are so fucked, you don't want 
to escape. Do as you are told. It makes things a little 
easier. Painful, but not as bad as it will be if you don't."

Celia reached forwards and placed her fingers onto two small 
scars on the child's sternum. "What are they?" she asked.

Emma raised her head, to show the teen two similar scar's on 
the underside of her chin. "You really don't want to know," 
she said.

The door opened, and both girl's looked around to see who 
entered. It was a young man, although he was very overweight 
he had a friendly grin on his face. "Hello," he said. "Oh my, 
you two seem to have seen some fun last night. You weren't 
naughty now were you Emma?"

"Yes sir," the child said lowering her head.

The man turned to the teen. "You are Celia?"

"Yes."

The man frowned. "Now now little girl," he said. "I just look 
nice. You call me sir, or I zap you." He held up the cattle 
prod. "Now try again."

"Yes sir," said Celia.

"That's better," said the man. "Now get her and lay on your 
back. I am going to shove this up your cunt and fry your 
fucking brains out. That will teach you to show me some 
respect, and always use SIR."

"B-but..."

Emma nodded towards the man. Her eyes went wide, Celia knew 
the young girl was trying to get her to do it. 

"Now slut," said the man. "If I have to drag you over here I 
will. Did you learn nothing last night. I am still being 
reasonable, isn't that right Emma?"

"Please C," squeaked the girl. "He isn't joking. It will hurt 
a lot more if you don't."

Celia closed her eyes. She knew the ten year old was telling 
the truth. She knew that there was no chance of escape. No 
now. She had to do as she was told, to live long enough to see 
freedom again. Celia crawled over to the man and laid back. 
She closed her eyes and spread her legs for him. She suddenly 
felt embarrassed at showing this man her most intimate parts. 
Her face flared up red... she couldn't believe herself. 

Suddenly the everything shattered, and Celia let out a scream. 
It hadn't been the prod, but it hurt so much. The teen curled 
up and gripped onto her cunt. "Ahh ahh!" she cried out. It 
slowly dawned on her that he had kicked her. Over her pain a 
thought drifted she now knew why boy's were so protective. 

"That is for taking your time," the man shouted. "Now spread 
them."

Celia moved to open her legs again. She gritted her teeth, and 
again exposed herself to the man. She felt his boot press 
against her stomach, and the prod used to push  her thighs 
further apart. "To begin," he said. "Emma will open you up, 
lick you a little, then help me press this right into your 
cute little clitty. Then we'll see about shoving it into your 
uterus." 

The man barely glanced at Emma, before the child moved. She 
crawled across the floor and perched between Celia's legs. The 
ten year old girl reached across and pulled apart the teens 
cunt lips.  Celia couldn't believe that this was being done to 
her. Despite the pain, this just had to be a dream. Emma lent 
her head forwards and took Cilia's clit into her mouth. "Oh," 
gasped Celia.

"That's it Emma my slut," said the man. "Make the little cunt 
cum. You know she'll love you for it."

"Yes sir," moaned Emma.

"Oh my," moaned Celia. The teen had masturbated, and had cum 
before, but this was just... "Ohhh."

The child nibbled onto Celia's clitoris, and licked her smooth 
tongue around it, then across it. "Ahh," cried Celia. The 
waves of pleasure boiled in her tummy, and flowed throughout 
her body. 

Caught up in ecstasy, the thirteen year old girl was only 
dimly aware, of her cunt being held open. The breeze from 
Emma's breath tingled through her. She knew something cold and 
hard was pressed up against her. Too late she realised what it 
was. It cut through her like a burning knife, turning pleasure 
into pain. Searing agony rippled though her cunt, and her 
whole body. Celia twisted and screamed. She was on fire. It 
burned. The teen curled up and grabbed hold of herself. She 
pressed her hands into her cunt. She just lay there, sobbing. 
She couldn't stop. The pain was just too much. 

She wasn't even allowed to writhe in pain for very long. The 
man gripped her by the hair and dragged her back to the centre 
of the room. His strong hands pulled her body out straight. He 
sat down on her pinning her in place. Celia didn't have the 
will to fight him, in a vain hope to show him that she was 
good now, she opened her legs for him. Feeling his hands on 
that part of her caused the teen to begin to cry again. Not 
from pain, but from the realisation... She was a slut. 

She felt it being pushed inside her, intruding deep into her 
body. All she could see was the man's back. She closed her 
eyes and just cried. She knew what was about to happen. "Emma 
do the honours."

"Yes sir," moaned the child. She was so timid now, so 
obedient. 

Celia screwed her eyes up tight, and tried to get ready for 
it. 

It could have been a red-hot poker. It seared her insides as 
such. Celia squealed, her whole body wriggled, and moved. It 
was all just too much, she felt like she was being cooked from 
the inside out. 



<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------

-- 
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> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}|
|Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+