Message-ID: <42168asstr$1051578603@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: 1051559324 X-Sasl-enc: 9yRdK9xT33ks43zHiE49OA X-Original-Message-ID: <20030428194844.36F273466A@www.fastmail.fm> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 28 Apr 2003 20:48:44 +0100 Subject: {ASSM} Police Evacuated Our Farmhouse 02: The Bad Snake {Georgie Porgie} (M/g8g7g6 pedo bond rape oral humil tort) Date: Mon, 28 Apr 2003 21:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/42168> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge 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 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. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() The Night the Police Evacuated Our Farmhouse Chapter 2: The Bad Snake (M/g8g7g6 pedo bond rape oral humil tort) This fantasy involves kidnapping by deception, drugging, bondage, rape, oral rape, and cruel torture. A man has three girls captive, age 8, 7, and 6, and proceeds to rape and torture them. 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. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() The Night the Police Evacuated Our Farmhouse by Cathy, age 7 (ghost writer Georgie Porgie) Chapter 2: The Bad Snake 5 March 2003 I watched my little sister, Melissa, hanging helpless in her pajamas, as the mean man shoved his hips toward her, pushing his nasty pet snake up to her, demanding that she open her mouth. I wondered what he was doing. "Please, mister, don't hurt her," I begged him. He looked at me for a second, sneering, then turned back to Melissa and pushed his snake even closer to her face. She twisted her face away as far as she could, screaming, "Help! Help, Cathy help!! Oh help!" Maybe he was still mad at me for calling him a hippopotamus before, but I tried again, begging "Please leave Melissa alone! Don't let your pet bite her like it bit Susanne, pleaase!" That time, he turned and moved toward me. "If you'd make friends with it, it might not bite anyone. Do you want to try?" I didn't like the way he smiled down at me. I was just as helpless as Melissa, with my wrists tied over my head to a hook coming from the ceiling like she was, except I had my strawberry red nightgown and my pink panties on, and she had lavender pajamas, with her pajama bottoms pulled down so her bare bottom showed. It didn't bother the nasty man who had tied us there that he was naked. "What, what do I n-need to do, to m-make friends with it?" I asked. I didn't want it to bite me like he'd let it do to Susanne. I could still hear her crying from being bitten on her little lips. She hadn't moved, she couldn't move, she was still laying on the floor with her ankles tied up to two hooks, her nightgown off her in little pieces. "It likes little girl's mouths," he told me, sounding happy but not in a nice way. "That's one thing it likes, anyway. So kiss it, and let it in your mouth, and it'll like you." He pushed his pet up to my face just like he'd done with Melissa. "Do it, or I'll let it bite Melissa." I didn't want him to hurt Melissa any more, or me or Susanne either, so when he pushed closer, I tried to kiss what he said was the snake's head. I was too far above it to get close enough, with my hands tied so high. "You have to lower me down," I said. "Yea, I guess so, but I can't have you getting loose," he told me. He lifted a long thick rod from a hook on the wall and walked around behind me. "Don't try anything," he warned me, "or Melissa gets bit." Suddenly the man reached up under my nightgown and pulled my panties down to my ankles. He pulled up on my ankle. "Pick up your foot," he said. I lifted up my right foot and felt him yanking on my panties. "Other foot," he said next. When I lifted my left foot, he yanked my panties completely off me and threw them over to the wall. Now I only had my nightgown on. I held still as he put the rod up to my ankle, looped a cord around it, and back to the rod. "Get your legs apart," he demanded, shoving my other ankle until I let him move it. He looped another cord from the rod around my other ankle. "Hang from your wrists," he ordered. "But that hurts," I protested. Without a word of warning, he jerked on the rod, pulling my feet out from under me, bending my knees. The loops of cord tightened up on both my ankles as he lifted the rod. Looking over my shoulder and crying, I saw him run a cord from the middle of the rod up to the hook holding my hands, so that he had me swinging from the hook, way off the floor. He turned a knob on the wall, and lowered me down until my knees and toes just touched the floor, but I couldn't straighten my legs to stand up again. "Oww, oww, owww," I cried, the ropes on my wrists hurting me and the thin cords on my ankles beginning to cut into me and hurt even worse. When I struggled, it only pulled all the cords even tighter, so I had to give up. But giving up didn't loosen anything, and I kept crying. "You're a bad bad man," I whined at him. "Open your mouth up, wide," he hissed at me, quietly so Melissa didn't hear him, but mean enough to scare me. "You're going to make friends with my pet, aren't you?" he asked, out loud. "My hot-blooded pussy-eating lion snake, yea, you're gonna be real good friends," he teased. "Don't do it!" Susanne yelled. "Cathy, don't do it!" The awful man turned to her and said "I thought you had more sense than to shoot your mouth off, kid. Time to shut that yap of yours." He took a couple of belts from the wall, real thick leather ones, and bent down beside Susanne. He pulled her arms hard behind her back, lifting her up a little to do it, then he wrapped a belt around them above her elbows and tugged it so tight she screamed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh please, owww, I'm sorry!" she cried. "Ahh, that's music to my ears," he laughed, but he didn't stop what he was doing, he just tied the belt off tight while she kept crying and begging him to stop hurting her. Then he took the other belt and put it around her head, over her mouth, and pulled it as tight as the first one. He forced her mouth open and pulled the belt awfully tight. Susanne just whimpered, "Eeeuhhh, eeeeiihhh, ieeeehhh," and cried even harder. Now she couldn't say anything at all, with that nasty black belt in her mouth. He jerked the second belt tight on Susanne, tucked it under itself, and dropped her, letting her flop back down on the floor, her arms under her, and her legs still held up and out wide by ropes to two hooks. He laughed loud at her laying there naked and crying. He came back to me. "Let's make snake-friends now," he teased. "Open wide!" I sniffed and turned my head to wipe my eyes on my nightgown sleeves first, but he grabbed my chin and turned me back to face him, squeezing my jaw. I opened up, and a tear dripped off my upper lip into my mouth as he tipped my head back. I tasted the salt, as yet another teardrop fell on my tongue. Then he shoved his nasty pet snake head-first into my mouth. He didn't even try to be nice about it. His snake didn't wiggle like other snakes I'd seen. Its thick stiff neck filled my mouth, choking me. He pushed the snake even deeper in, so I couldn't breathe. Then he let the snake run in and out of my mouth, over and over, like he'd let it do to Susanne's little lips. He put one hand behind my head to help the snake go in by pulling my head toward it hard. Then he held the sides of my head with both hands and pulled and pushed me by my ears while his snake went in and out of my mouth. I didn't scream, but only because I couldn't scream or say anything. Breathing at all, whenever the snake pulled out a little, kept me busy. I kept choking and gagging whenever I had any breath to spare. I tried to push it out of my mouth using my tongue, but the man kept pushing it back in, and laughing. After so long a time I didn't know how long, I felt that awful snake spitting right down my throat. I sure didn't want it to bite any of us girls, but it was not my friend, not at all! I tried to bite it, but the Tooth Fairy had taken my front teeth not long before, and I had no teeth to bite with in front until they grew back. I would have given all four shiny dimes back, to have my four teeth to bite the snake with, but I never heard of the Tooth Fairy bringing teeth back. All I had was my gums and that didn't bother the snake at all as it kept spitting in me. The snake backed out of my mouth, still drooling what it had spit into me. It tasted awful, and I wanted to spit too except Mommy had always said good little girls never do that, so I had to swallow it all to try to get the taste out of my mouth. The man looked down at me and grinned, really happy about what his pet snake had done to me. He leaned close to me and whispered, "Tell Melissa you liked that, or I'll let it bite her. Lots and lots of times." I choked and coughed, trying to keep from spitting, trying to swallow it all like a good little girl, and crying. "Tell her," he growled in my ear. "I, Ihhh, I," I coughed again, and sniffed. "I liked that," I said, looking over at Melissa. I knew she wasn't fooled. Nobody likes something that leaves them crying that way. If Susanne had called me a crybaby then, she would have been right, but when I looked over at her, she was looking at me and crying just as much as I was. He squeezed the back of my neck, under my hair, and growled at me again. "Ihh, I liked that," I cried, louder. If I didn't say it, he would hurt Melissa, I knew. "A lot," he growled low into my ear, and squeezed again, hurting me. "Aieh! I liked it a lot!" I cried. "A lot, a lot! I liked it a lot!" "Okay!" he laughed. "Let's have some more fun!" He returned to the wall with all the little hooks on it, and picked up a small bag hanging there, full of several small things, and fitting in his left hand. But instead of coming back to me, he stood between me and Melissa. He pulled out one of the things from the bag, and showed it to us. "Know what this is?" he asked us. "It's a pipe clamp, but I have a better use for it." He pushed a loop of wire through it, and took a small screwdriver out of the bag. Then he held one of Melissa's thumbs out away from her hand, bending it back enough to hurt her, and slipped the pipe clamp over it, past her knuckle. Holding her thumb while she screamed for help, he tightened the pipe clamp around it. When he finished and let go, Melissa waved her hand around fast, screaming and crying, but the clamp stayed around her thumb, too tight to come loose. The man just laughed and got a second clamp ready. He pushed it over her other thumb and tightened it down like the first, so both clamps were secure on her, with loops of wire coming out of them. Melissa must have been in pain from them, since she never stopped screaming and whining as he took another long thick rod from the wall, just like the one he'd used on my ankles. He knotted the cords from each end of the rod around the wires on the clamps. He tied the middle of the rod up to Melissa's hook. He untied the knot holding her wrists together. When her wrists came free, he quickly tightened up the cords on the rod, pulling her arms apart just like my legs. The cords around my own ankles hurt awfully, but Melissa had clamps on her thumbs holding her arms apart, not cords. It must have been just terrible for her. She kept screaming, not even saying anything. "Stop hurting her! Stop hurting her!!" I yelled all the while. "Stop it! You stop hurting her, you bad bad man!! Leave her alone! Stop it!" He looked over at me. He lifted something from the wall and moved to stand in front of me. "Get your mouth open," he told me. I didn't, I just stared at him. He held up a thick rod with leather straps coming from each end, and another rod forming a T. "You had your mouth open a second ago, get it open again, or I'll shove this into you somewhere else instead!" he threatened me. He squeezed my jaw, and I opened my mouth. He squeezed harder, and I opened up wide. Using his other hand, he jammed the short end of the T into my mouth, pushing the back of my throat, with the rest of the rod across my face. He tied the leather straps behind my head, jerking them tight enough to hurt me, but I couldn't scream with the stick in my mouth any more than Susanne could with the belt in hers. "I'm done with that part of you for now, anyway," he laughed. I could only watch helplessly as he turned a knob on the wall, and Melissa's arms rose higher and higher, tightening up the cords running from the end of the rod to each of her thumb clamps. When she rose up off the floor completely, her legs dangling, all of her weight held by her thumbs, she struggled for awhile. Then she figured out, just as I had, that kicking and squirming only hurt her worse. She hung by her thumbs bawling, her toes just off the floor. The man lowered her back down. "That's what you'll get if you don't do what I tell you to do, sweetie," he threatened. "Are you going to do what I say, or should I lift you up again?" Melissa didn't speak, just whimpered and cried, but she nodded. He untied one cord from one of her thumbs, letting her arm drop to her side, but he left her other thumb attached. "Take your pajama tops off, as far as you can," he ordered her. She just stood there crying, not wanting to obey that awful awful man. "I can always lift you off the floor by one thumb, instead of two, if you don't get moving." He raised his hand toward the knob on the wall. Squirming one-handed, Melissa finally got her pajama tops up and past her face and onto her shoulder, showing the man her bare back and her bare chest. He pulled her free arm back up and wired the thumb clamp back onto the rod, then released her other one. He ordered her to take her pajama tops the rest of the way off. Still sobbing, she obeyed him, and she stood there in front of the man, naked from the waist up. He circled around her and looked at her from all sides, then told her to pull her pajama bottoms down. Crying and whimpering from the pain in her one thumb still hanging from the bar, she meekly obeyed, pushing her last clothing down off her bottom, down her legs, until it bunched up around her knees. She couldn't reach any further down without hurting her thumb way up above her head, so he made her wiggle her legs until her pajama bottoms fell to her ankles, then step out and let him kick them away. Now she was naked, her whole bare body showing, front and back except for the small parts of her thumbs under the clamps. When he started pulling her free arm back up to the rod, to hook it back up again, she screamed and wailed and struggled. But she's only six years old, and she couldn't stop him no matter how hard she tried. He got her thumb hooked back to the rod anyway, and she stood there completely helpless again. He walked around her one more time, grinning so happy to see her standing naked with her arms over her head, bawling and watching him in terror, wondering what he was going to do to her next. He moved to the wall, reached up and pulled a small lever, and the door without a doorknob swung open. He left, and us three girls looked around at each other. "Make him stop, make him stop," Melissa begged. "Why doesn't Mommy make him stop?" she wailed, looking at her two big sisters, but neither of us could answer her or do anything to make him stop. Before either of them had woken up from sleeping, he'd told me we weren't going to see Mommy or Aunt May ever again because that other bad man had them, but I wouldn't have told Melissa that even if I could. I just tried to look comforting for her, even though I had tears running down my face too. The man returned carrying two small step-stools, with five steps top to bottom. He opened them up and put them beside Melissa, with the steps near her. He made sure the rubber feet wouldn't slip, then stood in front of her and told her "Step up on the lowest steps." "Why?" she cried. "I'll hurt you if you don't." Sniffling, Melissa lifted a foot up to one of the steps, but when she tried to lift her other foot up, she had to hang by her thumbs. She moaned and screamed and couldn't do it, and left her other foot on the floor. The man smiled, not saying anything, and turned the knob on the wall, raising Melissa's hook, pulling her off the floor. "EEEeeAAAaahhhhwwww!" she shrieked, "OOOOwwwwiieeeeee! Owwiieee!" The only way she could stop the pain was by lifting her other foot up onto the first step of the other step-stool, so she could stand high enough to take her weight off her thumbs. But when she did, the man kept the hook rising further. "Aaaahhwww Ahhwww Ahhhhwwww!!" she screamed even louder, as the cords on her thumbs tightened up again, pulling her off the first steps. She raised one foot, then the other, to the second step, as fast as she could. The man laughed and laughed, and kept the hook rising. Melissa's arms rose high again, the cords to her thumbs stretched out taut, and she shrieked in torment. She quickly moved her little bare feet to the third steps. The hook kept rising steadily. She screamed from the pain as she lifted her feet to the fourth steps. Her legs were spreading apart and it became more difficult for her to keep her balance as she moved each foot up another step. The hook rose, mercilessly. "AAAaaaaaaawwwwwww! UuhhAwwww!" Melissa screamed, sobbing and gasping. She lifted one foot, then the other, to the very top steps of the little step-stools. She held her legs spread wide apart to reach the steps, and stood screaming. Even her little lips opened up like they were trying to scream. The hook rose, until her cords were taut again, pulling on her thumbs as cruelly as they ever had. There was nowhere else for her to climb up to, so she stood on tip-toe on the steps, bawling and squirming, trying to lift herself to ease the pain in her tortured thumbs. The hook stopped. "Would you like me to hold you up?" the man asked. Melissa nodded her head wildly, moaning "eeehhss! eehhss! owwwwie!" I didn't trust that horrible man, he wasn't going to lift her up to stop her from hurting, I knew. He moved behind her, and let his pet snake slip in between her legs. I could see its head come out and poke up to Melissa's little lips. She must have felt it too, because she began to scream "Nooo!! no! noooooo! Ohhhhhh Ohhhhh!! Nooo!" I can't remember the way she screamed next, only that she was really loud and it really sounded horrible. I only remember seeing the head of the snake push between her little lips and go in, and the awful smile on the man behind her. She struggled and her feet came off the step-stools and she pulled down with her arms, but couldn't lift herself up because her thumbs hurt so much. Her legs waved around wildly until the man reached around and held her thighs wide apart. Then he lifted her up, alright, but only by pushing his nasty pet snake into her even deeper. That must have hurt her even worse than her thumbs. I struggled in my own cords, trying to get him to stop hurting her, but he ignored me and kept pushing his snake deeper and deeper into her. Then he put his hands on her hips and instead of lifting her up, he pulled her down, hurting her even worse, everywhere at once, both of her thumbs and her little lips too. He kept moving the snake in and out as she screamed and cried, unable to stop him. Finally, the snake must have spit inside her like it did my mouth, because he pulled it out and it was drooling again. He dropped Melissa and stood back to watch her wildly kick and squirm. He chuckled as he moved around her to see her spread her legs wide again and get her bare feet back up on the top steps, on tip-toe. "Let's see," he said, looking around at all of us girls. "Done," he said, pointing to Susanne, "done," he added, pointing to my mouth, "done and oh so fun!" he finished, pointing to Melissa. "I better take a break." He flipped the lever to open the door, and left, leaving us all alone again. We all cried together, none of us able to help either of the other two, except by sharing the pain. Susanne's arms must have hurt terribly from her laying on them behind her back, and I knew the belt in her mouth must have hurt her too. My ankles ached from the thin cords digging into my soft skin, and I longed to lower my arms to my sides and get that stick out of my own mouth. But Melissa had it worst by far. If he didn't come back very soon, her toes would give out and she would be hanging by her thumbs all the time. I didn't know whether to hope he came back soon, or never came back. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() 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 - 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> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+