Message-ID: <41618asstr$1049418604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm> Content-Disposition: inline Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit MIME-Version: 1.0 From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm> X-Epoch: 1049403031 X-Sasl-enc: GLZ8JrgRnFGwku7+jZjM1g X-Original-Message-ID: <20030403205031.0EA03231D4@www.fastmail.fm> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 03 Apr 2003 12:50:30 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Meadows 10: Fear of Crying {Georgie Porgie} (Bb/g8 pedo nc bond humil brutal spank) Date: Thu, 3 Apr 2003 20:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/41618> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, hecate 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 ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() "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. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() 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. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() 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 Ten: Fear of Crying Marie experiences the merciless cruelty of boys for the first time. Now she knows what it's REALLY like to get spanked. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() Meadows Book One: Marie's Naughty Sunday by Marie Benoughtie (ghost writer Georgie Porgie) 13 January, 2003 Chapter Ten: Fear of Crying 'How did I get into this mess?' I despaired. But I knew how. 'You were a very very naughty girl,' a little voice nagged me, 'in lots of ways, and now you're going to be punished for it.' Darren and Rusty, boys from the next farm, half a mile down highway 24, worked my panties down to my knees, then had to stop, since my legs were slightly apart. Rusty pushed my foot off the stack of books supporting some of my weight, and Darren did the same with my other foot. They kicked the books away, scattering them behind me, leaving me hanging by the thick leather belts around my wrists, attached to the strong curtain rod above the large window in my attic bedroom. My legs fell together, and with nothing holding them back, my panties dropped, landing draped around my ankles, circlets of soft white silk with a little pink lace on the waistband. Darren pushed my panties the rest of the way off. Rusty snatched them up, twirling them for amusement, or to torment me further, or both, since tormenting me had always amused him. He held them up by my head, daring me to look at them. He let me see them, the white silk in his hand, my last piece of clothing, then he flung them away behind me, toward the stairs. 'Ohhhh, ohhh, ohhhh,' I moaned inwardly, 'now I'm going to get spanked.' I hung there between the two of them, completely bare naked and helpless just like they wanted me. Staring out the window in front of me, I saw a farm hand, or maybe their father, opening the door to their barn. And since I could see what he wore, even at that distance, he could probably see what I wore, or more to the point, what I didn't wear. If he looked over at my house right then, he'd see me up in my window, and see that I was naked. But he wouldn't see the boys who had blindfolded me, taken my nightgown off, marched me to the window, tied me up, and now finished taking my panties off too. No, all he would see would be a brown-haired eight-year-old girl showing her whole bare body to half the county for miles around. I begged him not to look, and I don't think he did. No amount of begging would have kept my captors from looking at me, up close and personal, so I didn't even try. A year older than me, and in my class in school, Rusty held the stick, bristling with sharp little tacks, that I knew he would be using on my bare bottom in a few seconds. Only a few years older, Darren grinned at me from the other side, close enough to the window that he could probably see my little pink dottie on my stretched bare chest. I could almost feel his eyes sliding down my bare body, to my ribs, moving as I breathed, to my bare belly and belly button which he could luckily see only from the side. 'Ohhh! Ohhh!' I thought, mortified, 'He can see my blossom petals!' Nobody had ever seen my blossom petals before, except Mommy when I was very young and she had to give me baths. And of course Unky Luke, but that was okay because he was my special favorite uncle. No boys were ever supposed to see, and out of all the naughty things I had done that sunday morning, all the way from skipping church to helping the boys take my nightgown off, none of them were anywhere near as bad as letting the boys see my blossom. Trying to hide from him, I pushed my bottom forward, to get my blossom as far out of his view as possible. Then I had to stop. I realized that would only make it easier for anyone from outside to see my blossom showing, if anyone came by on my daddy's farm right below me. And they would see me from the front. The boys just laughed at my squirming and useless struggling. Darren walked away, and Rusty stood behind me, chuckling, looking at my bare back and my bare bottom that he was about to spank with the stick. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, Darren returned. He knelt beside my leg and lifted my foot higher. I felt something slip over my foot, and when I looked down, I saw him tightening another belt around my ankle. He handed yet another one to Rusty, who knelt on my other side, pulled my leg up, and bound my last free limb with it. "What are you doing?" I asked them, bewildered. Wasn't I tied up enough to suit them yet? How helpless did I have to be, anyway?? "Just getting you ready for your spanking, Marie!" Rusty laughed, as he pulled the belt out to the side, spreading my legs apart. "Oh, ohhhh! Please let me down, please!" I whined. "We'll give you that choice right after the spanking," Darren grinned, "Don't you worry about that, yet." He pulled my other leg aside, tying the belt with rope to hold it. They stood back and admired their work. When I tried to pull my legs back together, all hope drained from me. As tightly as I'd been tied to my bed before, and as hopeless as it had been trying to escape from that, now unbreakable thick bands of leather on my wrists and ankles held me in an even more unyielding grip. And in a far more embarassing location, a far more embarassing position. When I tried to stand on tip-toe to loosen the belts on my wrists, my escape plan I had thought would be easy, my toes didn't even touch the floor. A long moan of despair rippled through my whole body, making little waves in all the ropes that held me. "Now, the moment we've all been waiting for, Marie!" Rusty crowed. He held up his hand. I caught sight of the stick as he held it high. I turned and stared out the window. I held my breath, tense and terrified, spread out with my naked arms and legs pointing to the four corners of the big window, and my naked bottom motionless. I awaited the blow. I was ready to scream. I was ready to cry, even, and I knew for certain I would. "Tell you what, Marie," Rusty startled me with his nonchalance, "How about if I spank you with the stick only three times, and use the willow switch for all the rest of the swats? Woul-" "Yes! Yes!!" I screamed, interrupting him, not giving him a chance to take it back. "-ld that, well, okay, I take it that's fine with you, huh?" he laughed. "Yes!" I repeated. I was so relieved! I could handle three swats with the stick, and I'd already taken at least eight swats with the willow switch without even crying. Of course, that was with my panties on, but still, the thin silk stretched tightly across my bottom couldn't have offered much protection. It couldn't have made very much difference. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Never once did I wonder why Rusty had made such an offer to me. "Okay then, here comes the stick! Three times!" he warned. Again I tensed up, ready to scream. Even though there would only be three, that wouldn't make any one of them any easier to take than it would have been. I turned and looked at the windmill blades spinning in the wind, to try to take my mind off what was to come. Smack!! the stick struck my bare bottom. "Aaahhhwww!!" I gasped out. Slap! it struck me again, the wooden instrument smacking hard against my wiggling bottom. "Owwwhh! Uhh, uh, hey!?" I turned my head to see Rusty. Whack! he struck again on my sore, no, wait, something wasn't right. "Huh?" I asked. I looked at the stick. He turned it around, showing me the nasty sharp tacks, the swarm of hornets eager to sting me, and it hit me. No, the stick didn't hit me. It hit me that he'd swatted my bottom with the flat side of a very light stick, and it hardly hurt at all. "Well, you didn't think we wanted to get that cute little bottom of yours all marked up with red spots, did you? We just wanted to get your panties off, and we did it!" Darren boasted, the hilarity of his great accomplishment jerking him around like a puppet as he laughed. He'd tricked me again! Rusty, upon seeing the look of surprise and shame on my face, joined his older brother in the puppet show, laughing and laughing at me until for the second time that day the boys were both gasping for breath. "Ahh, ahhahhah, hahhah," Rusty panted, sitting on the floor, looking up at my still bare bottom above him. He had a fine view, and his tone of voice told me he enjoyed it. I struggled, madly. "Let me down!!" I screamed. "I'll tell!" Darren moved up and took my chin, forcing me to look at him, and said, "Alright, we can go through all this again if you want, Marie. We'll just leave you here like this, and you can tell your mommy and daddy anything you want to tell them, right? When we said we'd leave you before, you screamed and begged us to come back so they wouldn't find out you'd let us come in, let us tie you up, let us take your nightgown off. That's why you begged us to come back. You know you're the only one who would get in any trouble at all, if anyone tells. It won't be you telling on us, it'll be us telling on you, or us not telling on you, that's all, and you know it." He released my chin and stepped back. I didn't even bother to answer. I just hung my head down against my chest, looking as far from them as I could, as close to crying as I'd ever been that day. I shook my head to make some of my hair fall down and cover the sides of my face, the only part of me I could hide from them at all. "AAAOOOHHWwwwwOhhhh!!" I wailed, my bottom suddenly on fire. "Aaawww, aaaooww, aahhww, what was thaaaaaat for!?" I hadn't had any warning. "Don't tell me you've forgotten so soon? You said I could give you the rest of the spanking with the willow switch," Rusty reminded me. "And here it comes!!" he added enthusiastically. "AahhhAAhhhAhhhh!!!" I gasped, when the second blow struck across both my bottom cheeks at once. He wasn't holding back, and I had no protection at all. "AAaaiiieeeEeeeiiiiieee!!" I screamed. The supple switch stung worse than I ever imagined a spanking could feel. The boys laughed. Rusty raised his arm again. "EEeeeeiiieee! OOOwwwwwwiieee!" I cried out, my arms involuntarily straining at the leather binding them high. My legs tensed and jerked. "AAAAAAaaahhhAOOOOWWWWWwwwwwwhhhh!! AAaaahwwAaawhhAawwhhhh!" I bawled. It hadn't taken long at all that time, just six hard spanks had left me babbling incoherently, bawling my lungs out. "OooWWWWWieeee! Uhh-OOOWWWWWWWWWWW!! OWWWw soh st-st-stoOWWWwwwwwieee!" I didn't try to struggle, my body took over automatically, bending my elbows and pulling, kicking my legs back and forth, twisting, jerking, flailing around, all to no avail. "AAAAAWWWwwwwww!! Huh-AAAAAWWWWWWWWwww!! Uh-OOOOOWWWWwwwwwwwwwhhh!! Uh-OwwwUhOwwwwUhOwwwwUhOwwwwUhOwwww!" I cried, panting between sobs. Rusty leaned to get a different angle on me, concentrating his attack on the tenderest flesh. "EEeeeeeeeiiieeeeee!! Ohhhwwwwww!!" The switch struck again across my left bottom cheek, as Rusty practiced snapping it, making the end of it whip around just before striking me. "Ohh stahhhp! stop! stop! OWwwwwUhOwwwie! Hu-Aaaawwhhhwwiiee!" I bawled, my breath ragged, sniffling and gasping in a little breath before each long desperate wail. "Ohhhwww! oh pleAAAwwAAWWWhhwww!! UhhhAaahhh!! UhhOwwwww!! UhhOwwww!" Rusty spanked me less frequently now, probably because he enjoyed my bawling in between spanks as much as he enjoyed my scream of pain when each new stroke hit. "Uuueeeeee! Uuueee! Uuuueee! Uuuueee! Uuueeee!" I panted, unable to get a full breath. "AAAHHHHHWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!" I screamed, when a stroke caught both bottom cheeks hard, and bounced. "Ow, that hurt," Rusty complained. The switch must have hit him on the back of his hand. He had no concern for how much it hurt me, except to figure out how to make it hurt me even worse, but a little snap on his own hand was intolerable. He traded to his other hand, and moved to my other side. "Oh please, please, stop! Uhaahh! Stahhhhhp! Stahhhhhhhbbit!" I pleaded, during the brief pause as he moved. "Oh pleeeeeeeese! Uhhhnn Uhhhnn UhUhhhhnn! Ohhhh staaaaahhhhhhbbit!!" Rusty began a series of quick sharp strikes on my right bottom cheek, which had gone mostly unharmed except when he'd hit both cheeks before. EEEEEAaAAAIIIieee!! EEEEEEeeeiiiiieee! EEEEeeiiieee!! AEEEEeeeeiee!!" Each blow sent my tormented bare body into a spasm, my knees bending, trying to pull away from the source of the pain, but pulling it with me. "Eeeeiii! Eeeeaaaii! Eeeeeiiee!" I bawled. How long could he keep doing this to me, I wondered? Blinking away a flood of tears, I tried to look at him over my shoulder. He didn't seem to be tired, or bored, yet. He raised his arm for another blow, grinning with delight. "YYYAAAaHHHWWWWWW!!" I bawled, "AAAWwwwwww!! Awwwwhhh!! Awwhhh!! Ahhw!" "Nice! That was a good one!" Darren applauded. The boys obviously loved every whimper and moan, every twist and squirm, every anguished sob and scream that they could force out of a helpless naked eight-year-old girl. And they loved that I was that girl, their neighbor, and their classmate. "AAAAAAAHHHHHWWWWWW!!!" the scream tore from my lips as I felt a sharp stinging assault across my whole bottom, trailing off my right hip. He wasn't even close to done with me, I realized. He switched hands again, and began a series of strokes hitting my right side first and trailing off to have the tip of the switch strike the tenderest part of my left cheek on the way out. I screamed and sobbed, caught my breath, whimpered and pleaded, then screamed again as each new stroke assailed me. I couldn't count them, but he must have given me eight to twelve more strokes that way. He waited between each stroke, maybe so he wouldn't miss out on my pleading, certainly not out of any mercy. I saw him move up beside me on the left. I turned my head away, not wanting him to see my face, but unable to hide it any other way. He struck downward, hitting my bottom from above, across both cheeks. "YAAAAAWWWWWWwwwhhhhhghghgh!!" I choked, my sobbing growing hoarse. The boys laughed. Rusty raised his arm again. "AAEEeeiiieiigghhh!" I gasped, unable to breathe. Rusty chuckled, shifted to the right, and aimed. "AAAEEeeughgh!!" I choked again, when his brutal stroke tore across the right side of my bottom. My eyes were so swollen with tears, I could barely see anything outside the window anymore. "Aaawwwhhh staahhhhghghh! Stahhchgh! UhhhAaawwwwwwUhhhAwwwgh!!" I was too hoarse to plead for mercy anymore. "AAAWWWWWHHHHHhghhghh!!" Every muscle in my arms and legs strained against the leather straps that held me spread out wide, but my strength was long since spent. For awhile, as I hung from the leather straps and sobbed my heart out, he just stood back and looked, not spanking me. I managed to get my breath back, and squeezed my eyes shut. I knew I was still spread out naked in front of the window, and I knew anyone walking by would be able to see my bare chest and my dotties, would be able to see everything, even my bare blossom, and me getting my bare bottom spanked hard, and probably even be able to hear me bawling. I kept my eyes pressed shut, not wanting to see them, if anyone did come by. I kept sobbing, waiting for the next unbearable sting from the willow switch on my naked bottom. When it came, even as hard as it was, it didn't make my bottom hurt any worse, and I was too exhausted to scream. I just kept bawling, and he finally stopped, satisfied. "Okay, here's the deal now, Marie," Darren approached, taking my chin to force my attention. You can stay here as long as you want, trying to get loose, or we can take you down when you say. But-" he stopped me from answering, "if we take you down, that means you didn't get untied, and that means we get to give you the three spankings. One from Rusty, and two from me. You don't get out of them unless you get yourself loose. So, let us know when you give up and want us to take you down." I feebly pulled at the straps on my wrists and ankles, knowing there was absolutely no way, with the strength of an eight-year-old girl, I could have escaped even at my best. After the ordeal of the spanking, I was too exhausted to pull free from a single strand of yarn. I desperately wanted to get out of that window as soon as possible, instead of staying there bare naked for anyone to see. But the thought of getting spanked like that again made me hesitate. The thought of getting three of them made me wilt in despair. I didn't know what to do. I just hung there, crying, for several minutes. I didn't know if any of Daddy's farm hands saw me, and I didn't want to know. The boys didn't seem to mind waiting. After all, they had something to look at, and to listen to, that they enjoyed. They were stone cold hard mean, once they were sure I wouldn't tell. I hung by my wrists, too sore from the spanking and too exhausted from crying to do anything but cry, and too numb to think about my impossible situation. I heard a rumble, but didn't pay it much attention. "Your parents will be home in ten minutes, Marie. Maybe sooner, since you didn't go with them." "How do you know that?" I asked Darren, still crying. "The train just went by on the tracks. Didn't you hear the whistle? It goes by every Sunday at this time, then you and your parents always get home from church about ten minutes later. And we're leaving at least five minutes before they get here. You have no more than five minutes left, so if you want untied, you better ask pretty soon. You want down now, or do you want to wait for your parents?" "Take me down," I surrendered, sniffling. "Then you have to ask nicely, and you have to promise to do something for us when we do." Rusty enjoyed my moan of despair. "You won't tie me up again? And you won't hurt me any more?" I asked. "Oh, we're not going to tie you up, there isn't time for that. And we won't spank you again," Darren promised. Whatever they wanted me to do, I didn't have any choice, or time, with my parents on the way home already. But the boys had to leave in five minutes, so whatever they wanted couldn't be too bad. "Please, Darren and Rusty, take me down, please. I-I'll do something for you if you do." ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() 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. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+