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From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm>
Subject: {ASSM} Why Susie Hates Saturdays {Georgie Porgie} (B/g6 pedo incest voy threat humil spank bond implied-rape)
Date: Thu, 24 Apr 2003 04:10:07 -0400
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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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                        Why Susie Hates Saturdays

      (B/g6 pedo incest voy threat humil spank bond implied-rape)

This fantasy involves voyeurism, threats, spanking, humiliation,
nakedness, bondage, and impending rape of a six-year-old girl by her
teenage cousin.  He finally gets a chance to carry out his fantasies
with his little cousin, making her into his slave.  The fantasy ends
just before the rape happens, but it's clearly inevitable.

I'm not into gore and grossness, so the only bodily fluid you'll find
in the following is tears, and there is no physical injury described.
(If you want that sort of thing, you'll have to imagine it yourself.)
If that doesn't sound like a fantasy you would enjoy, then either don't
read it, or blame yourself.  I'm not forcing anyone to read this
fantasy.

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.

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

                        Why Susie Hates Saturdays

                            by Georgie Porgie
                            24 December 1989

     When I was sixteen, my parents used to take my aunt and uncle on
all-day shopping trips every saturday.  They were poor, since my uncle
was crippled and my aunt was too stupid to get a job.  Well excuse me
for just stating the bare facts!  They had a kid, Susanna Lynn, ten
years younger than me.  Every saturday when they went shopping, I was
required to stay home and babysit Susie.  You think I was bored?  No,
I wasn't bored at all, but I was totally frustrated.  One saturday it
stopped being so frustrating and became the highlight of the week.

     Susie had been featured in my fantasies ever since she was three
years old and I had seen her playing naked behind her house once when
I visited.  I watched from the window as a couple of neighbor boys
climbed the fence, threatened her with a knife, and made her stand naked
in front of them while they felt her all over.  I wanted to join them,
and find out what it felt like to touch a naked girl, but I didn't dare.
I was sure if I did anything with her, she would tell my parents and I
would be in big trouble.  But she couldn't stop me from thinking about
her as she grew prettier and prettier.  I thought about other girls her
age too, but she was the girl I wanted most.

     No, I didn't tell on the neighbor boys.  I didn't like them
threatening my little cousin with a knife, but they didn't really mean
to hurt her so I had more sympathy for them than for the stupid rules
they were breaking.

     I have heard of families where the children are allowed to be
children as long as possible.   But living in a prudish family like I
did, I never got another chance to see her naked again, let alone touch
her.  Usually they didn't even let her wear a dress without some stupid
pair of tights, until she started ripping the knees out every day while
playing.  If they had raised us differently and let us play together
naked, the rest of this stuff would have never happened.  Oh, but that
was unthinkable, wasn't it?  They sure couldn't let us both have fun
together, could they?  So now poor little Susie is getting what they
deserve.

     On this particular Saturday, I was in my bedroom, thinking about
her in a certain way, while she watched TV.  Every now and then I would
walk past the sofa where she was stretched out.  Sometimes when she
wasn't careful her panties would be showing, and I would stop and watch
awhile, pretending to be watching TV.  Then she would move again and I
would go back to my bedroom and think about her some more.

     Shortly before noon, I was in the kitchen finishing my lunch when
I heard a loud crash, with a very loud boom, then the tinkle of broken
glass.  I ran into the TV room to see what happened, and caught her in
the act of trying to lift the TV back up onto the stand.  The broken
glass hadn't gone very far, but it would be hard to get it all out of
the carpet.

     "Please don't tell on me!" she begged, "I'm sorry I'm sorry, I
really am."  I stood over her, looking at her angrily, and suddenly a
plan came into my mind.  A bold plan.  A plan to finally get what I
wanted from her.

     "If I don't tell them you did it, they'll think I did it.  Why
should I take your punishment?  Do you know what that TV cost?  Do you
know what they'll do to you for breaking it?  I'll tell you, they'll
whip you three times a day for a month, and they'll take your allowance
for the next ten years to pay for it.  That's what they'll do to you.
I'm going to tell on you, for sure.  Unless..."  I trailed off and gave
her a cryptic smile.

     "Oh please, don't tell on me, please!" she whined.  "I don't want
to be spanked."  Then she caught on.  "Unless what?" she asked
hopefully.

     "Unless you do everything I tell you to do.  If I don't tell on
you, I'll have to pay for the TV myself, and that's going to cost me a
lot of money.  You have to make it worth it to me.  You're not worth
much compared to a TV, but if you agree to be my slave today and every
saturday, and do everything I command you to do, then I won't tell.
Otherwise, you get the worst whipping you've ever gotten in your life,
starting right now and getting worse when your parents get back.  What
do you say?"

     She sat down, shaking silently, trying to make up her mind which
was worse, being a slave or being spanked worse than ever before.  I
knew she had been spanked pretty hard other times, and I thought her
decision would be fairly easy.  But it seemed she needed a bit more
persuasion.

     "Alright, let's go get the paddle," I growled, grabbing her wrist
and jerking her off the couch.

     "No!  No, ok don't spank me, I'll do what you say, please don't
spank me, please don't tell on me," she sobbed.

     "Fine, you do what I tell you, right?"

     "Yes," she replied meekly.

     "'Yes, Master!' is how you answer me now, you understand that?"

     "Yes," she mumbled, almost too quietly to hear.

     "WHAT??" I yelled, and yanked on her arm.

     "Yes, Master," came the trembling reply.

     "That's better, Susie.  I'm your master, you're my slave now.  The
first thing your master is going to do is to spank you."

     "No!  You said you wouldn't spank me!" she protested, and tried to
pull away from me.  I yanked her arm again.

     "Wrong, I said I wouldn't spank you and then tell on you, I never
said I wouldn't spank you.  But don't worry, I won't spank you very
hard.  I wouldn't want to mark up that cute bottom of yours.  Get over
here."  I sat on the couch, and pulled her over to me.  "Bend over my
lap, like a good slave.  That's right, Susie.  Now pull your skirt up so
I can see your panties."

     She hesitated a second, thought better of it, then she reached back
and pulled her skirt up in back.  She wore white panties with little
yellow and pink flowers decorating them.  They were well-worn panties,
and the hem was unravelling here and there.  More of her skin was
showing than she knew.

     "What a pretty field of flowers!" I declared.  "It would be a shame
to hurt them, wouldn't it, Susie?  Pull your panties down and show me
your cute bottom."

     This time she hesitated longer, and made no sign of obeying me.
This was against years of indoctrination for her.  Her parents had
spanked her before for doing just what I was telling her to do now.
She needed some more encouragement.  I twisted her head toward the TV
and held it.  "See that busted TV laying there?  Do you want to get
whipped for that, or do you want to pull your panties down now?  I'll
give you a hint, if you decide you want to get whipped for breaking the
TV, I'll pull your panties down and spank you with the paddle.  Then
I'll tell on you and your mother will spank you with that garden hose
I've heard about.  I gave you an order, slave, now do it!"

     "Ok, ok please don't tell on me," she cried, as she gingerly
pulled her panties down over the soft double mound of her bottom cheeks,
leaving them around her thighs.  She cried out on the first hard slap,
which left her bottom cheeks tinged with pink.  She cried out again from
the pain of the second even harder slap, and her bottom blushed even
deeper.  She sobbed as I spanked her again and again, until she was a
beautiful rosy red.  Then I let my hand rest on her bottom, and began
feeling her, kneading her between my hands, rubbing her up and down,
side to side.

     "Stop it!" she protested, when I slipped my fingers between her
legs and touched her pussy.  She started squirming to escape, and fell
off my lap, landing on the floor with a thump.  She quickly pulled her
panties back up as soon as she could.  Panic had replaced pain.  Her
sobbing quieted.

     "Stand up, slave.  You really want to get beaten with the hose,
right?  That's what you'll get if that's what you really want.  If not,
you start obeying me right now, do you hear me?"

     "Yes," she said, wiping away tears, even meeker than before.

     "Yes what?" I insisted. "Have you forgotten already?"

     "Yes, Master," she sniffed, wiping her cheeks.

     "You won't get another chance, slave.  If you disobey me again
you'll feel the paddle on your bare bottom.  Is that clear?"

     "Yes, Master."

     "Good.  Now come over here."  I sat on the edge of the couch facing
her.  She came up to me and stood there trembling, holding back more
tears.

     "Put your arms around me and kiss me, slave," I ordered.

     "Yes, Master."  Slowly, she did as I commanded.  It wasn't a very
good kiss.  I would have to teach her how.  But that could wait for
another week.  I'd waited a long time for something else, and I was
going to get it now.

     "Stand up on the coffee table and pull your skirt down to your
ankles.  You're going to put on a show to replace the TV you broke."

     "Yes, Master," she cringed.  She stepped up on the table, turned to
face me, and pulled her skirt down past her panties, off her cute bare
thighs, past her knees, and dropped it at her ankles.

     "Pull your sweater up, all the way to your chin."  I gazed up and
down her legs, at her panties, and at the sexy little belly button she
revealed as she lifted her undershirt with her sweater.

     "Take your sweater off completely," I commanded, after letting her
hold it at her chin awhile.  "Then step out of your skirt and kick it
off the table over to me."

     "Yes, Master," she mumbled, and I watched her belly again as she
slid the sweater over her head and off her arms.  I caught her skirt and
her sweater and sat on them.  She now stood on the coffee table dressed
only in her undershirt, panties, white ankle socks with pink trim, and
a well worn pair of pink running shoes with fuzzy tabs.  She shivered,
either from cold or from fright.

     "Put your hands up on top of your head, slave, and turn around and
around, slowly."

     "Yes, Master," she said tearfully.  With her arms up, there was a
gap of several inches between her flowered panties and her matching
undershirt.  I enjoyed the sight of her pink belly, her legs, the lovely
hills of flowery meadows formed by her panties over her bottom, the
blooming prairie of her chest, and the tearful pouting face above all,
as she turned and turned for me.

     "Very good, slave.  Now pull your undershirt up to your chin and
keep going around."

     "Yes, Master," she cried.  She turned away from me, pulled it up,
and then nearly stopped turning.  She realized that she would have to
turn to face me and when she did I would see her titties.  But she knew
what would happen if she stopped turning.

     She slowly turned to face me again.  Her titties were deeper pink
spots on her pale pink chest, tiny as dimes, and very sexy.  She began
turning faster once she was facing me, attempting to hide them from me
again.

     "Stop turning and take off your undershirt.  No, when you're facing
me, Susie.  Turn back and do it, now."

     "Yes, Master," she almost forgot to whimper, as she complied,
dropping her undershirt on the floor behind her.

     "Now spread your legs apart as wide as you can, and stand there
with your hands up on your head.  And I mean don't move, you hear me,
Susie?"

     "Yes, Master," she cried, knowing she had to obey, and guessing
what I would do to her when she did.  She moved her legs apart a
little bit, put her hands up on her head, and stood trembling, clearly
terrified.  I rose and walked up to her, and began caressing her titties
and her belly.  I went around her once, stretched the waistline of her
panties out in back and tickled her bottom with my little finger.  It
was still a lovely shade of crimson, and she flinched from the pain.

     I circled around before her, again held her panties out, and
reached in with my other hand.  This time when I touched her pussy, she
let me, with only a shiver of fright.  I rubbed her pussy awhile, and
slipped my little finger partially inside, as far as it could go.  She
wasn't quite terrified enough for my full pleasure, though.  I returned
to the couch and sat as she continued to stand for me.

     "Kick your shoes off, slave."  She did so in silence.  "Now slip
out of your socks, little girl.  You won't need them for what comes
next."

     She squatted and struggled to take off her pretty white ankle
socks without falling off the coffee table.  She dropped them one by
one between us.  I picked them up and threw them behind the couch.  She
stood before me in her panties, ashamed of her nakedness, vainly trying
to hide her titties with one hand and all of her panties with the other.
The sight made me laugh.

     "What are you going to do to me?" she wanted to know.  "Oh please,
please, don't hurt me.  I don't want to do this anymore, please don't
make me take off my panties, too.  Oh, pleeease?"

     "Now, take off your panties too," I said slowly, savoring her fear.
"You're my slave now, Susie, for all day and for every saturday, so you
better get used to it.  Being my slave means taking off your panties
anytime I tell you to take them off.  If you don't, I'll take them off
you anyway and whip you.  You don't get to wear anything, not even
panties, for what comes next, little girl."

     Susie cringed.  "What are you going to do to me?" she repeated.  "I
don't want to be a barebody, oh pleeeease let me put my clothes back on,
ohhh pleeeaaase?" she begged.

     "I'll give you something else to wear, Susie, but first you have to
pull down your panties and take them off.  Only after you do that will I
put anything else on you.  Then comes the best part of all."

     "What are you going to do to me?" she pleaded a third time.

     "I'm going to rape you, Susie, many times, but not until you're
good and ready.  You've never heard the word before, have you?  If you
don't know what rape is, little girl, don't ask, you're going to find
out very soon.  Now take your panties off and I'll get something else
to put on you."

     "Yes, Master," she said, reassured to think that her nakedness
would only be temporary.  Had she only known what I planned to put on
her, she would have run away.  Instead she began sliding her panties
down, first one side then the other, as she kept a hand in front of her
pussy.  My cock throbbed in anticipation.  She bent over and slid her
panties down to her ankles and stepped out of them.

     "Hand them to me, slave," I ordered.  She picked them up and held
them out to me.  "With both hands!" I commanded.  Very reluctlantly she
gave up her cover and stood before me, completely bare, offering me her
last article of clothing with both hands.  Her cheeks were wet with
tears of shame.  Soon they wouldn't be tears of shame.  I enjoyed the
sight as she stood crying, waiting for me to take her panties from her.
I gazed at her sexy little body from her toes, up her slender legs, to
her beautiful little pussy and belly, her titties, her pouting mouth,
her reddened eyes, her reddish brown hair.  I let my gaze drift back
down and rest on her pussy lips as she stood trembling.  At last I
reached out and took her panties, and she gasped as I began to rip
them to shreds.  I dropped the tattered remains on the floor.

     "Stand right there and don't move, slave.  I'm going to get what
I promised you, something else for you to wear.  But if you've moved at
all when I get back, I'll make you stand like that for an hour before I
let you put on anything."

     "Yes, Master," she mumbled through her sniffling.  She stood still
with her head hanging and her arms at her sides.  I gave her bottom a
hard slap as I passed her, bringing out the rosy glow that had almost
faded from the previous spanking.  "OWWowwwowww" she moaned, but she
knew better than to move.  Actually if she had known better, she would
have run for all she was worth, but she was wonderfully innocent and
naive.

     I came back with two pair of handcuffs, four ropes, a blindfold,
and a thick black leather belt that would double as a whip and a gag,
which I had used previously only in my fantasies featuring Susie and
other girls her age.  Now that she was my slave, I only had one idea of
what to do with her, but I knew I'd think of hundreds of ways to do it.
The next few hours were going to be more fun than any fantasy I ever
had.  She watched me fearfully as I laid aside the things I didn't need
yet.  I put the thick leather gag down last, after deciding I didn't
want to miss out on her screams the first time.  I knew nobody would
hear her except me.

     "This is going to be fun!" I gloated as I approached her with the
cuffs.  She resisted as I pulled one of her arms behind her.  "Put your
other arm back here, slave, right now!" I demanded.

     "Yes, Master," Susie whimpered, and complied meekly.  I wrapped the
cold metal around her tiny wrist and squeezed it tightly in place.  I
was glad to see it was small enough to hold her securely.

     "Oh no, oh no oh no ohhhh please don't pleeeease don't" she whined
as I cuffed her other wrist, pinning her arms helplessly behind.  "Ohhh
nooooo oh please stop it please let me go" she pleaded as I tied one of
her ankles to the coffee table leg and bound the other to the leg at
the far end.  Pulling the ropes tight, I forced her legs painfully wide
apart, spreading both her pussy and her bottom.  I slid her pedestal
over nearer to the couch, then sat and fondled her bottom as she looked
over her shoulder at me.

     "Are you raping me now?" she asked, twisting to try to see me
better.

     "Patience, little girl, you'll know it when it happens.  I hear
it's an unmistakable feeling, at least the first time.  You're not in
position yet, anyway."  I stood and set myself face to face with her.
I began caressing both of her titties, one with each hand.

     "Why are you.." she began to ask, then screamed as I shoved her
over onto the couch.  With no way to catch herself, she landed flat and
hard and immediately began wailing.

     "Now, you're in position, little girl, and now, at last, I'm going
to rape you.  I've been waiting three years for this, Susie.  You're
finally going to find out what a little girl is good for."  As I removed
my own clothes, I drank in the sight of her frail, fragile, six-year-old
body, frantically squirming and struggling with her bonds, desperate to
escape a torment she couldn't even guess.  Her pussy lips were spread
invitingly, and I gazed at her creamy, pale pink skin from her lightly
downy legs to the pretty hair on her head.

     She stared at my cock as I pulled off my underpants, fear giving
way to utterly frantic terror when I moved toward her.  "Oh no, oh no,
oh no, stop please don't hurt me, please let me go, please stop oh
please stop, let me go ohhhhhh!"  She strained at the ropes at her
ankles, contorted her arms helplessly trying to slip off the cuffs,
and bucked in terrified spasms in a futile attempt to elude me as my
cock descended toward her waiting pussy and found its mark.

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      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.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www

-- 
http://www.fastmail.fm - IMAP accessible web-mail

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