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From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm>
Subject: {ASSM} Meadows 02: The Awfully Long Wait {Georgie Porgie} (g8 pedo bond nosex)
Date: Tue, 25 Mar 2003 21:10:02 -0500
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          Don't skip over this disclaimer!  It's important!

       This and other stories by Georgie Porgie can be found at:
                 http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www

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"If the First Amendment means anything, it means that a state has no
business telling a man, sitting alone in his own house, what books he
may read or what films he may watch."  -- Justice Thurgood Marshall

Never let anyone try to tell you that you're not allowed to READ A STORY
because you're under some stupid arbitrary age that changes from country
to country, and year to year.  But if you're under the stupid arbitrary
age at the particular time and place you read this, keep quiet about it.

And never let anyone try to tell you that you're not allowed to READ A
STORY because some people currently in power in the place you live (no
matter if that's your country or your home) have decided THEY don't like
to read what YOU like to read.  But if they've 'banned' this story, then
keep quiet about it reading it.

The author does not condone abuse of any person, by any other person,
regardless of the ages, genders, heritage, or political or biological
relationships between any of the persons involved.  Abuse includes any
activity done without the willing participation of everyone directly
involved, unless done to prevent other abuse under this definition.
But it also includes using force or threats to interfere in, disrupt,
or prevent the activities of others NOT committing abuse under this
definition, by others who are NOT directly involved.  Any person guilty
of abuse under this definition should be arrested to prevent such abuse.

"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.  Books
are well written or badly written.  That is all."  -- Oscar Wilde

Fantasies are fantasies, and are not real life.  This story is a FANTASY
and if it involves abuse of anyone by anyone else, then nobody should
act that way in real life, nor tolerate anyone else acting that way in
real life.  But neither should anyone object, in real life, to anyone
else's FANTASIES, let alone try to justify real-life abuse because of
them.  In over 30 years of reading and writing stories like this, the
author has NEVER hurt any real person, nor tolerated anyone else doing
so.  Enjoying FANTASIES like this DOES NOT and NEED NOT not make anyone
a monster in real life, as long as they understand that real people are
not to be treated this way.

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This story is Copyrighted (C) by Georgie Porgie.  All rights reserved.
It may be FREELY reposted to any appropriate newsgroup providing all the
following conditions are met:

1. This header remains attached to the story unchanged.
2. The full disclaimers below remain unchanged.
3. The subject line is unchanged, allowing potential readers to decide
   to avoid the story if they wouldn't like it.
4. The story is posted unaltered, either by addition or deletion.

People who flood the newsgroup with a hundred stories, none of which
have story codes, are obnoxious morons wasting the time of everyone
reading the group, and providing nothing of value.  I don't want any
of my stories to be posted by obnoxious morons.

It may be FREELY archived on any appropriate web site providing all the
following conditions are met:

1. The web site links ONLY to: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www
   rather than rudely BYPASSING all of the descriptions and disclaimers
   that would otherwise be required.
or
1. The web site provides FREE access to the story without restriction
   (including, but not limited to, 'registration' or charging a fee),
2. The link title includes enough description to allow readers to decide
   to avoid the story if they wouldn't like it, and
3. The reader is required to SEE, if not read, the full disclaimers and
   description prior to deciding whether to read the story, just like it
   is on http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www
4. The story is archived unaltered, either by addition or deletion.

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                   Book One: Marie's Naughty Sunday

This fantasy involves two boys (age 13 and 9) and a girl (age 8),
bondage and exposure of the half-willing girl, gradually getting
naughtier and naughtier until the boys take it way beyond what she
wants.  It is complete in 11 chapters, with more "books" planned.

As always, this story is not real, has never happened, and I hope will
never happen, and any resemblance to any real or imaginary person,
character, structure, or place is purely an unintentional coincidence.
The location was chosen at random and researched very little, and has no
relationship to any real or imaginary person associated with that real
location.

                  Chapter Two: The Awfully Long Wait

Marie has time to think about what's going to happen to her.

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                               Meadows

                   Book One: Marie's Naughty Sunday

                         by Marie Benoughtie
                    (ghost writer Georgie Porgie)
                           2 January, 2003


                  Chapter Two: The Awfully Long Wait

At first I wondered what I should do.  Then I realized there was little
point in wondering, since I couldn't do anything anyway.  I lay there,
face down, on the lower bunk of my bed.  My wrists were securely bound
to the headboard by a thin black leather belt from the red velvet skirt
in my closet.  My legs were stretched wide, held in place because my
ankles were tied to the side rails of my bed by straps taken from my
chore clothes.  I couldn't move my arms or my legs.  I could barely
wiggle, let alone reach down with my hand and untie my ankles.  Even
if my hands had been free, I doubted I could have reached my ankles to
untie them.  The belt around my wrists gripped tightly enough to keep
me from turning them, and there was no hope of loosening the knot or of
pulling the belt off of the rod of the bedframe that held the other end.
I could only pull on it in one direction, and it was already stretched
as tightly as possible in that direction.  Darren and Rusty had seen to
that in the same action that had left me so embarassingly exposed.

My only clothing was a sheer pink silk nightgown decorated with bunnies,
and my white silk panties.  The nightgown, which had never covered much
of my legs to begin with, was selected for comfort on a hot night when
nobody would see me, not for modesty in front of two boys, my neighbors
a few years older than I was.  It had slid up to my neck in front when
the boys had pulled me toward the foot of the bed.  At the same time, it
had bunched up at the middle of my back, completely revealing my panties
with a bright red "I'm a Little Devil" message across my bottom.

'In ten minutes,' I thought, 'the boys are going to spank me!'

That was the rule, they said, for playing Tie-Up.  They hadn't told me
the rule before I agreed to play, but that didn't help me any.  They'd
gone off to get something better to tie me up with, they'd said.  As if
they needed to tie me any better than I already was.

What should I do?  What could I do?  What did I want to do?  It seemed
that the rules of 'Tie-Up' meant they wouldn't spank me if I got untied,
but there wasn't much hope of that.  My feeble pulling on the belt and
the straps while the boys were watching had convinced me of that fact.
And I wasn't sure I wanted to escape, and not get spanked, even if it
had been easy.  At last I decided that I wanted them to spank me, so I
could find out what it was like to be spanked.  The moment I made that
decision, I giggled, because it didn't matter in the slightest.

'No matter what I want, those boys are going to spank me!!'

How long did I have left, eight minutes?  Six minutes?  I wondered what
the rules of Tie-Up allowed them to do.  What would they spank me with?
A paddle, maybe.  That's what I'd heard other kids were spanked with.
Or maybe a belt, I'd heard of that, too.  I tried to think of any other
things that were used for spanking, that Darren or Rusty might have, and
might want to use to spank me.  Would they spank with a wooden plank, or
a tractor crank, or a water tank?  I giggled for a moment, out of sheer
nervousness.

'How hard will they spank me?' I wondered.  'How much will it hurt?'

Of course it would depend on what they used, too, but I wondered if they
would spank me as hard as they could, or not.  And how hard could they
spank, anyway?  Darren was older, and much bigger, and I knew boys were
stronger.  He was in eighth grade, and had big muscles from working on
a farm.  He could probably spank me awfully hard.  I imagined the paddle
in his hands hitting my bottom.  I could feel the sting of him spanking
me, before he even got back.  The sensation made me squirm in my bonds.

His brother Rusty was in my class in school, going into Mrs. Grissom's
third grade starting tomorrow.  But he was a boy, and a year older than
I was, and he worked on the farm too, so he was also big and strong.  I
guessed he could probably spank me plenty hard if he wanted, no matter
what he used.  Did I really want to get spanked hard by two big strong
boys?  I knew I had only a few minutes left to get away, five at the
most.  Still, I decided I wanted to find out what a spanking was like.
Not that it mattered.  I was there until they let me go, and I knew it.
I was going to get it, and they were going to give it to me.

'How many times are they going to spank me?' I suddenly wondered.

Did the rules say when they had to stop?  They hadn't mentioned any rule
about that.  What if the rules didn't say they ever had to stop?  Then
I wondered if there really were any rules, or if Darren had made up the
first one he'd told me just so he could tie me up, and the second one
just so he could spank me.  If so, he could make up any rule he wanted
about when to stop.  And what if there was a rule, but they didn't care
what the rules were, now that I was tied up?

'They're going to spank me for as long as they want!' I trembled inside.

Maybe I should try to escape after all, I thought.  How long until they
got back, four more minutes?  Only two?  I pulled at the belt wrapped on
my wrists and was immedately reminded that it didn't matter at all what
I decided, I was going to get whapped on my bottom no matter what I did.

I wondered why they wanted to spank me.  I hadn't done anything, so that
wasn't it.  Last year, a girl at school had told me that boys were mean
to girls on purpose.  She said they did mean things for fun.  So maybe
Darren and Rusty thought it was going to be fun to spank me, and they
thought so because they thought it would be mean to spank me, that I
wouldn't like it.  If that was the case, they would surely spank me for
as long as they wanted, rules or no rules.  And they'd spank me as hard
as they could, to be as mean as possible.  When I realized that, I felt
the same thrill of excitement I'd felt when my nightgown first came up
and showed them my panties.  When I thought that two big strong boys
were going to spank me hard, and spank me a long time, and have lots
of fun doing it, it made me feel incredibly excited.

"They're going to spank me for the fun of it!" I whispered, but right
out loud.  The sound of it thrilled me.  "They're going to whap my
bottom really really hard!" I breathed, and it excited me even more.
"They're going to keep spanking me for as long as they want!  They want
to spank me over and over and over!  Spank!  Spank!  Spank!  Spank!
Spank!" I almost sang the words, imagining hard stinging slaps on my
bottom as the boys leaned over me and swung.  It made me feel strangely
happy, and very very naughty about feeling that way.

Then a new thought intruded.  'I wonder if I'll cry when they spank me.'

At the thought of crying, I reconsidered, and realized there was a way
to stop them after all.  I could tell them to stop it, to untie me.  I
could just tell them I didn't want them to spank me.  Then they would
have to let me go.  But then I might never find out what a spanking was
like.  If I stopped them this time, they would probably never even try
to spank me again, and I would never know.  But again I decided that I
wanted them to spank me.  And again I giggled, and trembled inside.

Then it occurred to me that if they thought I wanted them to spank me,
they'd think it wasn't mean to spank me, so they'd think it was no fun
to spank me, so they wouldn't spank me at all!  Or if they thought I
didn't want them to spank me and I'd tell on them for it, they wouldn't
dare do it, and they'd let me go.  They would only spank me as long as
they thought it was mean, and thought I didn't like it, and only if they
thought I wouldn't tell on them and get them in trouble for it.  If I
wanted them to spank me, which I did, I would have to be tricky about
it.  If I cried when they spanked me, even if I couldn't help it, that
would make them think I didn't want it, so they'd keep doing it.  But I
also had to let them know that I wasn't going to tell on them.  I wasn't
sure how to do that, but I figured I'd think of something.  At least I
had part of a plan, so I could relax and wait.  I squirmed in my bonds,
checking to make sure they were still too tight for me to escape.

Just then, a distant door slammed shut, and footsteps echoed from the
first flight of stairs.  In a moment of panic, I was afraid my parents
were home, and they would find me tied to my bed, panties showing, and
I would have to tell them everything.  Would I ever be in trouble then!

"We're back, Marie!" Rusty called out.

I let out a huge sigh of relief, then realized how funny it was, that
I'd rather be caught tied up with my panties showing by some boys than
by my parents.

"Are you loose yet?  I hope not!" Darren called.  He sounded as out of
breath as Rusty.

A mad rush of footsteps pelted up the narrow stairs to my attic bedroom.
Darren and Rusty charged in, both panting heavily.  They had obviously
been very eager to see me again, and I was flattered, though not so much
as I might have been in other circumstances.

They both had their hands full, but trying to look past my arm and over
my shoulder, I didn't see much, only their grins, so I knew they saw
something they liked.  Was it my panties, or my nightgown, or me?

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

      This and other stories by Georgie Porgie can be found at:
                http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www
-- 
  Georgie Porgie
  georgieporgie@fastmail.fm

-- 
http://www.fastmail.fm - Choose from over 50 domains or use your own

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