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Message-ID: <56072asstr$1182003002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "kelli paine" <kellipaine1979@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Bed and Breakfast Part 2
Lines: 3528
Date: Sat, 16 Jun 2007 10:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Here is a new story called Bed and Breakfast Part 2. I hope you like it!

Love,
Kelli

_________________________________________________________________
Who's that on the Red Carpet? Play & win glamorous prizes. 
http://club.live.com/red_carpet_reveal.aspx?icid=REDCARPET_hotmailtextlink3

<1st attachment, "BedAndBreakfast2.txt" begin>

WARNING: The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Its contents are of a 
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts between 
underage partners, rape, torture, sexual mutilation, and murder. It may 
contain extremely graphic language and descriptions of sexual acts that 
could be highly offensive to almost every reader. This story is intended for 
ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in your local 
jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, STOP READING NOW. Feedback is 
appreciated from those who enjoy the story and find it stimulating.


BED AND BREAKFAST: THE STORY CONTINUES

By Kelli Paine (kellipaine1979@hotmail.com)

Codes: MMMMMF anal humil incest nc rape snuff torture


INTRODUCTION: A Typical Day at the Inn

Helen was naked, bending over a narrow drop-leaf table in the Meditation 
Room. The antique table was only deep enough to support her midsection, and 
her bare breasts were hanging off the far side. Her legs were spread wide 
apart and a man was standing behind her with his cock in her ass. He had 
been fucking her for half an hour, and she couldn't believe how much 
self-control he had. He seemed to be meditating while he was thrusting into 
her, and he was able to control his body like no one she had ever known. She 
could feel his erection stiffen inside her every few minutes as he 
approached his climax, and his hands would dig into her hips as he held her 
in place and increased the speed of his thrusting -- but then he would slow 
down, and his erection would subside a little and his breathing would get 
slower, and he would start again. His cock filled her rectum, stretching her 
sphincter so it gripped his erection tightly, and Helen couldn't stop having 
orgasms. Her anus was sore and raw because he had been screwing her for so 
long without a break, and he hadn't used any lubrication because he wanted 
it to hurt her. It did hurt -- but after she had been fucked for a while, 
she erased the pain from her mind with a meditation technique she had 
learned, and what she was left with was an intense feeling of sexual arousal 
that was deepened by her knowing how dirty this was.

The room was elegant -- hexagonal with stained glass windows, and the 
ceiling had oak beams and wainscot. It was 13 by 14 feet, and seven other 
men were sitting around the room on chairs, with an additional three men 
using cushions on the floor, all of them watching silently while Helen got 
fucked out of her mind. They were taking turns with her, and ten of them had 
screwed her since the session began the previous night at midnight. They had 
used her vagina and her mouth and her asshole, but none of them had given 
her as many orgasms as the man in her rectum now. She closed her eyes and 
her body spasmed as his cock seemed to expand inside her, and she grunted 
with satisfaction as she had two more orgasms in quick succession. Dawn was 
glowing through the windows, but Helen knew the session wouldn't end until 
the last man finished inside her. All the men had dumped their loads in her 
body -- five in her pussy, three in her mouth, and two in her ass. She felt 
bloated with cum -- it was in all her holes, and she was about to receive 
another big load. She could feel her erect nipples sticking out as her tits 
hung down over the table, and she brought her hands up and caressed her 
breasts, moaning a little as another orgasm swept through her body. She 
pinched her nipples and pulled them out away from her body, distending her 
small breasts, and the dollop of pain gave her a hot orgasm that started in 
her nipples and spread to her vagina. She felt like a bitch in heat, bending 
over with her naked body open and available to any man that wanted her. She 
was totally bare except for her slut shoes, 5-inch high heels with ankle 
straps, and she knew how sexy they looked on her.

The man in Helen's ass was thrusting into her deeply, and this time he 
didn't try to control it. She knew he was going to cum, and the thought of 
more sperm entering her body was enough to give her another orgasm. She 
mewled a little as his cock filled her rectum completely, making her feel 
like her whole body was wrapped around his beautiful big dick, making love 
to it, wanting it to spurt inside her -- and then it did. The man grunted 
and held her hips hard against his groin and thrust even deeper into her 
bowels as his cock exploded. Helen felt the heavy throbbing as the cock 
pumped semen into her asshole again and again, giving her three more 
shattering orgasms. Her arms dangled loosely and her mouth hung open and she 
was drooling as the man used her body as a sperm receptacle, filling her 
warm ass with his huge load. Every spurt of cum seemed to give Helen another 
orgasm, and she was moaning, wanting it to go on forever, wanting the big 
cock to stay inside her. But finally the man was done, and he pulled his 
cock out of her, making her wince as the head of the cock stretched her 
sphincter painfully. Warm jism leaked out of her asshole as the man stepped 
back, and he came around the table so he could wipe his cock in Helen's long 
dirty-blonde hair. She felt his cum running down her thighs as he 
contemptuously wiped several big globs of sperm in her hair, and she raised 
her head to look up at him. He slapped her, and she dropped her head as 
tears filled her eyes. He leaned down and spoke to her. "You're nothing but 
a worthless whore, but you're a great fuck. We'll be back next month." She 
wasn't upset with the man -- he enjoyed dominating women, like all the men 
in his group, and she was glad to help them achieve the feeling of power 
that goes with hurting a woman. They had been visiting the inn each month 
for almost  a year, and provided a nice source of continuing income -- along 
with giving Helen a lot of rough sex, the kind she like best.

Helen remained in place as she had been instructed, bending over the table 
as each man stood behind her and slapped her buttocks as he left the room. 
After they were gone, she stood up slowly, feeling the semen in her vagina 
start to leak out and run down her thighs. Her mouth still had the taste of 
semen from the three loads she had swallowed, and she went to her room to 
clean up, not covering her naked body as she walked through the halls. The 
guests at her inn knew what went on there, and she saw some of them looking 
at her as she walked by, and she stood straighter as she smiled a little. 
Helen knew she was a whore, and she felt proud to be walking around with her 
cunt and her ass full of sperm. She paused outside her room and turned so 
the people in the hall could see the strings of cum running down her legs, 
and then she smiled and went in and closed the door. She had new guests 
arriving soon, and she wanted to be ready.


CHAPTER 2: Helen's Dream Becomes a Reality

Through her second-floor window, Helen could see the sign at the entrance of 
the inn: Glowing Morn Bed and Breakfast Retreat Center. As she cleaned the 
sperm off her legs, she remembered how long it had taken to make her dream 
come true. She was a divorced mother of three children, and was working as a 
computer programmer at the Washington Post in the late 1990s when she first 
got the idea of opening an inn devoted to her two favorite things in life: 
sex and meditation. The job at the Post was a limited assignment related to 
the Y2K program, and she left to go to work for a software firm in Virginia, 
SRA International, but she kept thinking about her dream. In the early 2000s 
she began searching for just the right place, driving all over northern 
Virginia and Maryland without finding what she was looking for. But finally 
she expanded her search to southern Pennsylvania, and not far from the 
famous city of Gettysburg, she found the perfect place -- a large private 
home built in 1902 in the small town of Andover. She was able to get a 
business loan, and in February 2004 she opened the inn. Her children helped 
her all they could, but her daughters Dara and Laurel were in college, and 
her son Dillon was finishing high school and trying to decide on a college.

It was very important to Helen that her kids go to college, because she 
wanted them to have better lives than hers. She was born in a whorehouse in 
New Mexico, where her mother worked as a prostitute for years. Helen lived 
in the brothel, and grew up watching her mother servicing johns all day. She 
was molested by one of the johns when she was six -- and she liked it 
because it made her feel grown-up. Her mother did nothing to protect her, 
and Helen got raped at the age of nine, laying in her mother's bed with her 
mother beside her servicing another john. By the time she was 11, Helen had 
contracted every major venereal disease: syphilis, gonorrhea, chlamydia, and 
trichomoniasis. Her gonorrhea led to pelvic inflammatory disease, which 
infected her uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries, causing lower abdominal 
pain, fever, vaginal discharge with a foul odor, painful intercourse, and 
painful urination. Each time she got infected, Helen was treated by the 
doctor that handled the other whores. He usually collected his fee in trade, 
by raping the whore with a large bottle, but Helen was so young that her 
vagina might be damaged permanently, so he made her eat out his ass. This 
was her first experience with putting her mouth on a man's anus, and at 
first she was repulsed by the smell and the taste -- but then she started to 
like it. It made her feel like a sexy little slut, but she had to be careful 
not to let the doctor know how much she enjoyed kissing his ass.

The whorehouse was shut down when Helen was 15, and she spent ten years as a 
street prostitute, moving to Texas and Georgia before she ended up in 
Virginia. One of her tricks was a man named Peter, and he took her off the 
streets and set her up in an apartment. They got married when Helen was 25, 
and had three children at two-year intervals. They got divorced after 15 
years of marriage, and Helen got some computer training that led to her job 
at the Washington Post. She moved her family to Manassas, Virginia, while 
she was working at the Post and SRA, then finally made the move to 
Pennsylvania after she found the old and spacious home that she wanted to 
convert into a bed and breakfast. The conversion took four months, and the 
inn opened in February 2004. Bookings were slow for the first few months, 
but then the inn got listed on some bed and breakfast websites and things 
picked up nicely.

Helen knew she had to be careful with the "hidden" features of her inn -- 
the sexual offerings. She couldn't advertise them, and she did want to 
attract customers interested in meditation and contemplation -- but she knew 
there was a lot on money to be made from offering sexual services along with 
meditation. She had been a street prostitute for ten years, sometimes giving 
a blowjob in exchange for a sandwich, or letting some guy screw her in 
exchange for a ride, and now she wanted to earn the big money she knew was 
out there. She grew up in a whorehouse, and she knew how to make men happy 
with her body -- and she knew she liked doing it. She had done a lot of 
reading about girls and women being victimized by prostitution, and maybe a 
lot of it was true -- but she had never found anything that paid so well and 
felt so good. Sure, sometimes her johns hurt her, but that's what happens to 
prostitutes -- and Helen had never found anything she liked better than a 
big cock in her pussy or her ass or her mouth. Why not make some money and 
enjoy herself at the same time? The inn was the perfect way to do that, but 
she had to be careful about spreading the word. In a small town like 
Andover, a hint of scandal could put her out of business, even in these 
liberated times.


CHAPTER 3: Helen's First "Special" Guests

Helen started by sending out some emails to groups she found on the internet 
-- sex clubs, organizations, and even some businesses where she knew men 
from her earlier working career in computer programming. The first booking 
was a group of ten men in June 2004, and they took all five of the guest 
suites in the inn for the weekend. Since there were no other guests, Helen 
didn't have to worry about keeping the activities hidden while the men were 
there. They arrived late on Friday afternoon, and Helen knew from their 
emails what they wanted. She greeted them at the front door as they had 
instructed her -- in her best formal gown and high heels, but with no bra, 
and the front of her dress was pulled down so her breasts were hanging out. 
Each man kissed her tits as he came in, and as she showed them to the guest 
suites, they fondled her breasts and played with her nipples. They told her 
to come to the Tree of Life Room at 8 PM -- without the dress -- and when 
arrived, they told her to lay back over the footboard of the antique carved 
oak queen-size bed. It was a flat board six inches wide, and Helen stood at 
the foot of the bed and sat down on the footboard, then leaned back so her 
upper body was resting on the bed. One of the men pushed her legs apart, and 
she could feel her pussy starting to lubricate. Her bare legs were dangling 
in the air, and her cunt was completely exposed, and she felt her nipples 
stiffen.

Helen's tits were small and not very pretty anymore, and they were 
mismatched. Her left breast was a little larger, with a nipple that was as 
big as the first joint on her thumb. Her right breast was smaller and 
noticeably flatter, like a deflated balloon, but the nipple was much bigger, 
and the areola was almost part of the nipple, forming a dark cylinder that 
stuck out obscenely, widening at the tip. The nipple was almost split in 
front, making it look like two lips slightly parted, with an indentation in 
between. Her right breast was so small that a man could put all of it in his 
mouth. Her nipples had always been extremely sensitive, and she could orgasm 
just from being touched there. They were so hard now that they hurt, like 
little sores on her chest, and she needed to touch herself, but she kept her 
arms at her sides submissively, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, feeling 
her pussy starting to leak down her thighs. She felt like she had a fever, 
and she wished one of the men would do something to her.

Helen had spent ten years as a street whore, getting screwed 25 times a day, 
but while she was working at the Post and SRA, she just dated a little, and 
she didn't have much sex. The trouble was that all those years on the street 
had conditioned her body for lots of fucking, and she needed it -- she got 
twitchy when she went too long without getting screwed. She felt like a 
bitch in heat as she lay there naked, waiting for the men to start in on 
her. She knew from their emails that they liked gang-bangs, and they were 
all going to fuck her as many times as they could -- and they enjoyed 
humiliating women. She had gone so long without a cock inside her, she 
almost screamed at them to just stick something hard up her snatch. She felt 
sweat on her forehead, and she shifted her body a little, making her breasts 
jiggle. She realized her whole body was sweating -- her skin was glistening 
in the bright lights in the room.

The footboard was only slightly higher than the top of the bed, and Helen 
propped herself up on her elbows so she could look at the men. One of them 
stepped over to her and handed her a cup full of a thick whitish liquid. She 
caught the odor and knew immediately it was semen, and she smiled at the 
man, a dirty little smile. He told her, "We've all been masturbating and 
saving the sperm, and we have three cups of it for you. You like the smell?" 
Helen held the cup under her nose and took a deep breath through her 
nostrils, and she felt her pussy creaming even more. Her whole groin area 
felt hot, like she was laying in the sun. She looked up at the man and 
grinned. "It reeks -- how old is this stuff?" The man told her they had been 
masturbating for a week, and there were about 150 loads in the three cups of 
sperm. They had sealed it in a plastic container, but they hadn't 
refrigerated it because "we wanted it to smell bad. Prostitutes don't 
deserve nice-smelling things." His face hardened as he looked down at her. 
"Drink it, slut -- gulp it all down without stopping. We know you like the 
taste -- all whores love the taste of jism." Helen looked up at him with 
hurt and humiliation on her face, only partly faked. She knew they wanted to 
see her humiliated, and it didn't take much for her to feel that way -- she 
was laying there naked in front of a bunch of men and she was going to drink 
their sperm. She brought the cup to her lips, and as quickly as she could, 
she drank the warm semen. Some of it spilled out of the corners of her mouth 
and ran down into the hollow of her neck, but she gulped down the whole 
glass. The men whooped and laughed a little, commenting on what a good whore 
she was. She licked her lips, then ran her fingers under her chin and 
scooped up the last of the cum and licked it off her fingers. She held out 
the cup and said, "May I have more?"

The man took the cup from her hand as one of the other men stepped over and 
stood between her legs. He shoved her knees further apart, then raised her 
legs and placed her ankles on his shoulders as he inserted his erect penis 
in her slit. He clamped her legs together so her pussy would be tighter, and 
then he penetrated her. Helen moaned with satisfaction as her cunt was 
filled with cock meat -- it had been so long! The man forced her legs 
together tightly as he started to thrust into her, and Helen had an orgasm 
quickly. She was moving her legs a little, caressing his neck with her 
ankles as she enjoyed the heavenly feeling of a big cock in her vagina. The 
man took her ankles in his hands and thrust them to each side, spreading her 
legs wide apart. He told her to hold her legs in the air, then released her 
ankles. Helen bent her knees and kept her legs elevated, her slut shoes 
dangling and bouncing around as her fucker kept thrusting into her. Her 
upper body was flat on the bed now, and her fucker put his hands on her 
breasts. He took her nipples between his fingers and clamped them painfully 
as he started to pull her upright. Helen gasped in pain and got her elbows 
under her to support her weight -- but the man jerked her up by her nipples 
and screamed at her. She quickly moved her arms to her sides, grunting in 
pain as the full weight of her upper body hung from the man's fingers and 
thumbs digging into her breasts. She dropped her legs, and the man screamed 
again -- he wanted her to keep her legs in the air while he was fucking her. 
Helen lifted her legs, her stomach muscles burning from the strain of 
keeping her legs elevated. Her nipples were two burning spots of pain on her 
chest. The man kept rolling her erect nipples between his fingers as he held 
her up, and the feeling went far past pleasure into throbbing pain. It felt 
like two wasps were stinging her nipples, and she mewled from the sharp 
pain. Her agony made her fucker's cock stiffen inside her, and he thrust 
into her only a few more times before he exploded inside her, filling her 
cunt with his warm semen. He let go of her nipples and Helen fell back onto 
the bed, orgasming in spite of the pain in her breasts. Her eyes were closed 
tight as her body spasmed, sweat dripping off her hot skin as her mouth 
lolled open. She was panting like a dog, and suddenly her fucker thrust into 
her again, giving her one more little spurt of jism and making her cum 
again. He slapped her legs down, and she relaxed them gratefully as he 
finished cumming inside her. Her legs didn't quite reach the floor, and they 
dangled loosely as the man pulled his cock out of her snatch and stepped 
aside so the next man could take his place.

Three more men fucked Helen's pussy in the next 45 minutes, and each man 
made her hold her legs in the air all the time she was getting screwed. They 
all lifted her by her nipples while they were thrusting into her, and the 
pain was really starting to drive Helen crazy. The men dug their thumbs into 
her nipples to hold her upper body off the bed, and it damn well HURT! She 
kept her hands at her sides, clenched into fists all the time she was being 
fucked, forcing herself not to try to pull the man's hands off her breasts 
no matter how much it hurt. She knew this was just part of being a 
prostitute, and she had been through much worse pain when she was on the 
street. But the strain was so bad -- the mental and physical strain of 
holding her legs up in the air while the men were fucking her and hurting 
her breasts -- she lost control of her anal sphincter while the last man was 
fucking her. He gave her a very hard thrust, and she pooped some shit out of 
her bowels. There was a loud farting sound when the gas and feces were 
forced out of her asshole, and the men roared with laughter. Helen felt 
mortified, and she could feel the shit oozing down onto the fine wood of the 
antique footboard. She had spent a lot of money and time furnishing each 
room at the inn, and it made her angry to think about cleaning her own shit 
off the footboard.

The fifth man gave Helen another cup of semen to drink before he fucked her. 
When she was almost finished swallowing it, he told her to fill her mouth 
with the last of the sticky fluid -- he wanted her to hold the sperm in her 
mouth while he fucked her. She obeyed, and handed the cup back to him with 
her mouth full of cum. He stood between her legs and slapped her thighs, and 
she raised her legs and held them in the air as he penetrated her. He 
started thrusting hard, ramming his big cock deep into her pussy as fast as 
he could, and she realized he was trying to make it as hard as he could for 
her to keep the semen in her mouth. Her head -- her whole body -- was 
jerking back and forth roughly as her fucker drove into her groin, and Helen 
had to concentrate on keeping her lips closed against the cum that filled 
her mouth. A little of it trickled out the corner of her mouth as the man 
gave her a savage thrust, but she closed her lips tight. She had three 
orgasms, struggling to keep the sperm in her mouth, and finally the man was 
almost ready to cum. He told Helen to swallow the sperm, and she opened her 
mouth to show him it was still full, then gulped it down as he ejaculated in 
her cunt.

The rest of the men wanted to fuck Helen in the ass, so she was told to get 
up and turn around, and bend over the footboard of the bed. She saw the shit 
that had leaked out of her ass all over the footboard and the coverlet on 
the bed, and she hoped they could be cleaned. The men that had already 
screwed her sat on the daybed to watch while she serviced the other men with 
her asshole. All of them screwed her viciously, trying to damage her anal 
sphincter by forcing their cocks into her rectum without any lubrication. 
All of them reached around and put their hands on her breasts, mauling her 
nipples and pinching them so hard that she got tears in her eyes. Some of 
the cocks were 12 inches long, and Helen felt like she was being fucked with 
a baseball bat. She spread her legs wider, standing on her tiptoes to try to 
ease the sharp pain in her anus, but it didn't help much. Just before the 
last man screwed her, she was given the last cup of sperm to drink, but her 
fucker penetrated her before she had finished, and his savage thrusts made 
her spill a lot of the sperm on the silk coverlet. The stains might be 
permanent, and Helen felt tears of anger in her eyes -- she had worked to 
hard to furnish the rooms on the inn so nicely. Then her fucker gave her 
another reason to be angry -- he held her hips firmly and thrust into her 
ass so hard that she lost control of her bladder, and a stream of deep 
yellow urine shot out of her empty pussy and stained the end of the 
coverlet. There was so much piss, Helen knew it would soak through the 
coverlet and stain the sheets and maybe the mattress, and she gritted her 
teeth in frustration. She wished the man would finish with her so she could 
get started with cleaning up the mess she was making.

Some of the men got bored watching Helen get screwed, and they went out 
through the private entrance to the second-story porch, where they had 
magnificent treetop views of the 100-year-old English walnut tree and the 
garden below the room. She could hear them talking about her body, and it 
made her cry when they mentioned how old she looked. She was 48, and she 
knew her body didn't look as good as when she was younger -- but after three 
babies, stretch marks were hard to avoid. Her small breasts sagged and 
didn't look pretty, and her hair was stringy and dirty most of the time, and 
her skin was blotchy, and she was sweating a lot while the men fucked her -- 
she could smell her own body odor as she bent over the footboard. She always 
tried to look pretty for her johns, and it hurt her when the men commented 
on her body that way.

Finally the man in her ass was ready to cum, and her slapped her buttocks 
and told her to get up fast. He wanted to cum in her mouth, and Helen 
scrambled up from the bed, then quickly got down on her knees in front of 
her fucker just in time to take his throbbing cock in her mouth before he 
ejaculated heavily. She gulped down his sperm, tasting her own shit on his 
cock as she swallowed his thick cum. The other men had come back into the 
room, and they laughed at how hard Helen was working to swallow the jism 
that spurted out of the big cock. "Man, she loves sperm... look at her 
suck... go get it, girl... god, what a stupid whore..." Helen was moving her 
head up and down fast, wanting every drop of sperm, using one hand to stroke 
the shaft while she squeezed his balls with the other. She was sucking hard, 
making loud slurping noises as she frantically milked the cock, going a 
little crazy for the salty taste of the sperm oozing out of the cock into 
her mouth. She could still taste the shit mixed with the warm cum, and she 
knew she was swallowing her own feces, but she just didn't care. She knew 
she was acting like a slutty little whore, but it had been so long since she 
had sperm in her mouth, she had forgotten how heavenly it tasted, how thick 
and creamy it was.

When he was finished cumming, the man pulled his cock out of Helen's mouth. 
She looked up at him with strings of cum on her chin, smiling gratefully -- 
and he slapped her hard enough to send her sprawling. She curled up with her 
arms around herself, afraid he was going to kick her, but he just looked 
down at her. "You're about the oldest whore I've ever had. You're a good 
cocksucker, but fucking your ass is like sticking my dick in a douch bag -- 
it's loose and it smells bad. Don't you ever wash?" Helen knew he was trying 
to hurt her, and he succeeded -- she was crying as he and the other men left 
the room. She got up slowly, then got come cleaning equipment from a room in 
the hallway and tried to clean up the bed. Her shit had stained the antique 
wood on the footboard, but she was able to clean it off. She would have to 
send the coverlet and the sheets out for cleaning, to get the urine stains 
out of them. She changed the bed, then went back to her room to clean up. 
She walked naked through the halls, letting the men look at her body, 
letting them see the sperm leaking out of her pussy and her asshole as she 
walked.


CHAPTER 4: The Phoenix Room

The sexual activity continued through the weekend. Helen was awakened at 6 
AM on Saturday, after only a few hours' sleep, when the men knocked on her 
door and told her they wanted to fuck her again, this time in the Phoenix 
Room. It had a queen-size walnut sleigh bed, and the two men assigned to the 
room were still asleep when the other men got there with Helen. They went in 
quietly, and carefully removed the covers from the bed without waking the 
men. Helen was told to get on the bed between the two men, moving slowly and 
carefully so they wouldn't wake up. She was completely naked, and she 
climbed over the footboard and moved up so her head was at the level of 
their groins. Both men were sleeping naked, and Helen was told to try to 
suck them off without waking them. Luckily, the men were lying on their 
sides and facing each other, so Helen had easy access to their cocks. One 
man had a slight erection, but the other cock was flaccid. Helen took the 
soft cock in her mouth very slowly and sucked a little, then switched to the 
other cock. She alternated between the two cocks until both men had 
erections, but they had not awakened yet. She was told to try to get the 
first man to cum in her mouth, without him waking up. Helen started to suck 
harder, cupping the men's balls gently as she moved her head, and the man 
moaned a little in his sleep -- and then he ejaculated in Helen's mouth. 
While his cock was pumping sperm down her throat, he woke up, and the other 
men quickly signaled him to be quiet. He finished cumming in Helen's warm 
mouth, then pushed her head back and pointed at the other man. Helen took 
the second cock in her mouth and repeated the blowjob, but it lasted longer 
because the man didn't get completely erect for about ten minutes. Helen's 
jaw was aching from so much sucking, but she knew she had to keep going. The 
first man put his hand on the back of her head and started shoving her mouth 
down on the cock, then he took a handful of her hair and jerked her head up 
and down, forcing the cock deeper in her mouth. The cock stiffened as she 
sucked harder, and when she put her hand between his legs and squeezed his 
testicles, he made a little noise and his cock exploded in Helen's mouth. He 
woke up while he was ejaculating, and reached down and held her head in 
place while he thrust into her mouth a few times as his cock spewed semen 
down her throat. The two men got out of bed, and two at a time, all the 
other men lay down in the bed with Helen and she gave blowjobs to them. She 
swallowed all the cum from all the men, and when she was done she felt 
bloated. The men told her she could go back to her room until lunchtime.


CHAPTER 5: The Sunroom

Lunch was served in the Sunroom on the first floor. It had the original 
stained and leaded glass windows from when the house was built in 1902, 
ceramic tile flooring, and a restored whimsical antique wall fountain. The 
room was large -- 13 by 24 feet -- and had three round glass-top tables. The 
decorative metal chairs matched the tables, and sunlight was streaming 
through the windows when Helen went in at noon as she had been instructed. 
The men were seated at the tables eating lunch, and they all looked up when 
Helen came in. She was wearing only what she had been told to wear -- two 
black leather belts above and below her bare breasts, a tiny black g-string, 
and black 6-inch high heels with ankle straps. The belts were very tight 
around her chest, making her small tits look much bigger. Her nipples were 
lewdly erect, very thick and hard and dark brown, and her tits were turning 
purple because the belts restricted the blood flow to her breasts. This made 
her areolas stick out, and her breasts and nipples were unbelievably 
sensitive. The g-string was so small that it didn't hide anything she had 
between her legs, but the men had told her to wear it for another reason -- 
to hold a dildo in her pussy. The black dildo was ten inches long, shaped 
like an erect penis with a very large head, and the shaft had thick 
simulated veins designed to irritate the inner walls of the vagina when the 
dildo was inserted. With every step Helen took, the dildo shifted inside 
her, and it was driving her crazy with orgasms. She had inserted the dildo 
and put on the g-string just before she left her room and came down to join 
the men, and already it had given her several shattering orgasms. Her vagina 
was raw and sore from all the fucking she had received last night and this 
morning, and it was lubricating heavily as her body tried to ease the pain 
in her genitals, and her vaginal secretions were leaking out around the 
dildo. She could feel the wetness on her thighs, and she knew the sticky 
juices would soon be running down her legs. But there was nothing she could 
do about it, so she just smiled like a good little whore as she entered the 
Sunroom.

The men applauded when Helen appeared, and her face reddened as she smiled 
and blushed. She went around to each table, greeting the men by name and 
running her fingers through their hair as the ate and drank. They touched 
her all over, and each time one of them touched her breast or nipple, she 
had an orgasm -- she couldn't help it. The leather belts were so tight 
around her chest, they made her tits felt like two balloons overfilled with 
water, ready to burst, and her nipples felt like they were as long and thick 
as her thumbs. Her areolas had little bumps on them -- that always happened 
when her nipples got erect -- and her whole body felt like a cocked pistol, 
ready to fire. Her legs were tingling, and she knew the men could see the 
cunt slime running down her thighs. One of the men put his hand in Helen's 
ass crack and pushed her g-string aside so he could penetrate her asshole 
with his middle finger, making her gasp as she spread her legs to allow him 
better access. He wiggled his finger inside her, giving her two orgasms that 
left her breathless, and then he withdrew his finger and held his hand in 
front of her face and told her to clean his finger. She gently kissed the 
tip of his finger, smelling the pungent odor of her rectum on it, then 
parted her lips and took his finger in her mouth. She tasted her shit on his 
finger as she cleaned it with her tongue, swallowing some small bits of 
excrement that had come out of her ass. She moved her head up and down, 
fellating his finger like it was a cock, sucking so hard that her cheeks 
were drawn in against her teeth. She ran her tongue over his fingernail to 
get all the shit off of it, then took his finger out of her mouth and kissed 
the tip again. The man moved his hand to her right breast and pinched her 
nipple, and Helen's body went rigid as she had a massive orgasm. Her legs 
felt weak and she grabbed the edge of the table, closing her eyes and 
moaning, not caring how she looked -- just surrendering to the heavenly 
electric feeling that shot through her breasts and down to her clitoris. Her 
breasts were still sore and sensitive from the mauling she had received when 
the men screwed her the night before, when they had lifted her upper body by 
her nipples while she was being fucked. When the man pinched her nipple now, 
it hurt a lot, almost like the pain a man feels in his testicles when he 
gets kicked in the groin -- but the pain was mixed with the raw sexual 
thrill of having her nipples touched, and she arched her back and mewled 
with pleasure even as tears of pain trickled down her cheeks. The man took 
both of her nipples in his fingers, and Helen panicked for a moment, afraid 
he was going to pinch her again -- but he just rolled the fleshy cones of 
her nipples in his fingers, like twisting the dials on a radio, using very 
light pressure -- and Helen spasmed as three orgasms hit her, one after 
another in quick succession. She unconsciously leaned against the man and 
put her arm around his shoulder to keep herself from falling as waves of 
pleasure took control of her body. It felt like her nipples were on fire, 
and pussy slime was gushing out of her cunt and running down her legs over 
her high heels and onto the polished ceramic tile. The other men had stopped 
eating to watch, and they were making comments that Helen hardly heard as 
she orgasmed. "That is one slutty little bitch... she's not young but she's 
a hottie... look how her pussy's leaking down her legs... bitch needs to be 
fucked... she ought to get her boobs done..."

Helen finally opened her eyes, then leaned down and kissed the man and 
thanked him. She moved around the room, and the other men played with her 
body as they liked. When lunch was done, the men moved to the Living Room, 
one of them leading Helen by holding onto her left nipple and walking her 
out of the Sunroom. Her slut shoes left stains on the floor from the vaginal 
juices that had leaked out of her pussy.


CHAPTER 6: The Living Room

The Living Room at the Glowing Morn Bed and Breakfast Retreat Center was 20 
by 37 feet, with a large oriental rug in the center. There were four chairs 
and two ottomans on the rug, and an old-fashioned sofa with a straight back 
topped with a rounded mahogany molding that was two inches wide. There were 
other chairs scattered against the walls, and the room had a beautiful 
inlaid oak floor, stained glass windows, a marble mantle, antique sconces, 
and ceramic wall and ceiling molding that made it a truly elegant room. But 
the men weren't interested too much in the d�cor -- what they wanted was to 
hear Helen scream. They were going to beat her, using whips and paddles and 
their own hands to spank her, and after they got her softened up, they were 
going to tie her up and gang-rape her all afternoon. They led Helen over to 
the sofa and told her to stand behind it and bend over, so the mahogany 
molding fitted into the crease of her body as she bent over. They told her 
to put her arms straight down on the seat of the sofa, so her upper body was 
horizontal and her head was even with the front edge of the sofa, and they 
told her to spread her legs so they could get at her pussy and her asshole 
with the whips and paddles.

Each man was going to beat Helen, then go around in front of her and let her 
give him a blowjob while the next man whipped her. The men had drawn numbers 
to establish a sequence, and the last man went around in front of Helen to 
use her mouth while her first torturer stood behind her. He was going to use 
a short riding crop, a thick piece of leather about 18 inches long with a 
carved wood handle. He told Helen to count the strokes, and then he hit her 
across her buttocks -- and Helen let out a sharp yelp of pain. Part of the 
fun of beating her would be her knowledge that she didn't dare to scream too 
loud, or the sound might carry outside the inn, attracting attention from 
neighbors or the police. There was a wide sidewalk and entry area in front 
of the inn, but it was built fairly close to the street, so even passing 
cars might hear Helen scream if she got too loud. The next stroke caught her 
across the bottom of her buttocks where they joined her upper thighs, and 
again her yelp was chopped off. Helen didn't mind being hurt while she was 
being fucked -- that was just part of being a prostitute, and sometimes she 
liked it -- but torture was another matter. She hated it, but she knew she 
had to endure it to get business for her inn, so she gritted her teeth and 
tried to keep her lips closed as the next stroke landed at the top of her 
buttocks. Each stroke made her soft flesh sting and burn -- but at the same 
time she could feel her pussy creaming between her legs, gushing a little 
each time the riding crop struck her. The dildo was still in her cunt, held 
firmly in place by her g-string that passed through a groove at the bottom 
of the dildo. Each time she was hit, her vaginal muscles contracted 
involuntarily, gripping the dildo and giving her an orgasm in the midst of 
the pain.

The man standing in front of Helen waited until the next stroke hit her, and 
when she started to scream, he grabbed her head and forced his erection into 
her mouth. She gasped and choked on the cock as he probed for the back of 
her throat, but then he pulled out a little and she started to suck. She 
moved her head back and forth for a moment, sucking hard, and then the next 
stroke of the riding crop made her scream, though it was muffled by the cock 
filling her mouth. The crop had landed across the middle of her buttocks, 
and the pain was far more than Helen thought she could endure for very long. 
Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she sucked the cock, and she was 
making little mewling sounds in her throat. Then the man pulled out of her 
mouth because it was time to switch, and the man that had been hitting her 
came around for his turn in her mouth. She glared up at him, not trying to 
hide her anger, but he just grinned down at her, He grabbed a handful of her 
hair and jerked her head up. "This is what whores are for -- what did you 
expect, bitch?" He used two fingers to pry her mouth open and stuck his cock 
in her mouth as the next man took his place behind her.

This time Helen was to be spanked with a wood paddle, three inches wide and 
18 inches long, with three small holes drilled in the wood. When the paddle 
struck her buttocks, the air between the paddle and the skin would be forced 
out and the skin drawn into the hole, making a blister. The man drew his arm 
back and hit Helen, and her scream was the most exciting one yet. Three 
bright red blisters popped out on her ass as a loud scream was torn from her 
throat, muffled by the cock she was sucking. She groaned and closed her eyes 
tight, saying "no no no" around the mass of cock meat in her mouth, but then 
she received another stroke a little lower than the last one, where her 
buttocks met the top of her thighs, and the paddle hit the base of the dildo 
and drove in deeper into her pussy. Helen had a huge orgasm from the 
combination of the dildo being forced into her at the same time as her 
vaginal muscles reacted to the paddle stroke, and once again three blisters 
popped out. The blisters didn't bleed, but would be exquisitely painful for 
several days before they healed. The man moved down and gave her a stroke 
across the back of her thighs, raising blisters on the back of her legs as 
Helen screamed hoarsely. The man in front of her was holding her ears and 
ramming his cock into her mouth savagely, and when she took another stroke 
from the paddle, this one at the top of her buttocks, her scream was 
followed by his massive ejaculation. He pumped his big load down Helen's 
throat and she swallowed it all. The man behind her held the end of the 
paddle against the base of the dildo and shoved it hard, forcing the dildo 
deeper into her twat and making Helen gasp as it went so deep that it 
touched her cervix. The man waited a moment for the dildo to slide out a 
little, then shoved it into her again, fucking her with the dildo. He 
finished with one last stroke with the paddle on the middle of her buttocks 
to give her a few more blisters, while the man in her mouth pulled out of 
her and wiped his cock in her hair.

Six of the men wanted to spank Helen, and they lined up behind her to take 
their turns. The man that had just paddled her went around and stuck his 
cock in her mouth as she took the first stroke from the man spanking her. He 
gave her ten strokes with the palm of his hand, moving up or down so he 
covered all of her buttocks. The next man to spank her had a little 
variation -- between each stroke with his palm across her ass cheeks, he 
poked the base of the dildo into her cunt, making her gasp. The third man 
gave Helen two strokes on her ass, then moved down and hit the back of her 
legs with his last eight strokes. The last three men spanked her on her 
buttocks, but hit her very hard -- one of the strokes popped a blister on 
her ass, making her scream hoarsely. Each man moved around in front of her 
and let her suck him off after he finished spanking her.

The last two men used whips the beat Helen, and they were the most painful 
of all. The first man used a 20-inch strap whip, with multiple thin strips 
of leather bound to the handle. The first stroke inflicted a network of fine 
red lines on Helen's ass, and each one felt like a knife wound. Her scream 
was muffled by the cock she was sucking, but it was still quite loud. She 
was given ten strokes with this whip, and when it was done, her buttocks 
were covered with thin lines of blood, and she was hoarse from screaming. 
The last man to beat Helen used a 24-inch spiked thong whip, similar to the 
first whip, but with small metal pieces affixed to the end of each leather 
strip. This whip caused welts and bleeding on her ass like the strap whip -- 
but with each stroke, the metal pieces dug into the sides of her hips or 
legs, digging out bits of flesh wherever they touched. Helen took ten 
strokes on her buttocks and down her legs, and when it was over she was 
unconscious, her naked body hanging loosely over the back of the sofa. She 
had been sucking a cock, and the man in her mouth ejaculated just before she 
fainted from the pain of the whipping. She had swallowed most of his cum, 
but when her head dropped onto the seat of the sofa as she passed out, the 
semen ran back into her mouth and onto the sofa while she was unconscious.

The men checked to be sure she was still breathing -- and then they left her 
there and went out to look around the small town of Andover. Helen regained 
consciousness about 15 minutes later, and slowly remembered what had 
happened to her. She tried to stand up, but the cuts and blisters from the 
beatings she had received made her grunt in pain. She had to lay there 
across the sofa for a while before she could get up. She saw the sperm on 
the seat of the sofa, and knew she would have to have it cleaned 
professionally. She slowly climbed the stairs to her room, and when she 
looked at herself in the full-length mirror, she started to cry -- her 
buttocks and legs were covered with welts and cuts and bruises and blisters, 
and she felt terrible. She used medicated dressings to clean up her wounds 
and stop the bleeding, then bandaged herself as best she could. She knew she 
couldn't get through the rest of the weekend with these men -- there was 
supposed to be another gang-bang that evening, and a final session of 
fucking on Sunday before they left.


CHAPTER 7: The Grand Foyer

When the men got back from sightseeing, Helen talked to them and told them 
she was too badly hurt to let them fuck her any more, but she offered to 
give them as many blowjobs as they wanted. This suited the men just fine, 
and Helen spent the rest of the day and evening on her knees in the Grand 
Foyer, sucking one cock after another. The room was 19 by 18 feet, with a 
ceramic tile floor, a ceiling with oak beams and paneling, and an ornately 
carved limestone mantle. It was located between the Living Room and the 
Dining Room, with French doors allowing it to be utilized as an extension of 
either room, and the men could watch Helen giving blowjobs as they went in 
to eat in the Dining Room or lounge in the Living Room, where there was a 
computer with internet connection available for guest use. There was a guest 
refrigerator stocked with free sodas, and tea, cocoa, and snacks were always 
available for the guests. Whenever one of the men got a hard-on, he could 
walk a few steps to the Grand Foyer where Helen was waiting on her knees, 
and stick his cock in her mouth. Sometimes a short line formed, but most of 
the men got immediate service from Helen. If there were men waiting, Helen 
always asked them to stand on either side of her so she could rub their 
cocks with her hands while she was finishing with the man in her mouth. She 
stayed there on her knees til past midnight, then got some sleep and went 
back down at 6 AM to give blowjobs to the early risers. The men left after 
lunch, and told Helen they would be booking regular sessions. They asked her 
about getting more girls for them, but Helen was still new to the area and 
didn't know any other prostitutes. She told them she would try to have more 
girls there for them the next time.


CHAPTER 8: Getting More Girls

Helen knew she couldn't handle any more weekends like that first one. She 
had thought she wanted lots of rough sex, but the beatings were more than 
she bargained for. She did enjoy most of the sex, even when her fuckers were 
lifting her by her tits while they screwed her -- it hurt, but it made her 
feel hot and slutty. Her years as a street prostitute had exposed her to 
things most girls never experience, and they had hardened her so it took 
more to get her aroused now. She loved giving the men blowjobs in the Grand 
Foyer -- she was naked, on her knees, sucking one cock after another while 
the men watched her and commented on her body and how well she sucked. It 
made her so HOT!! Her cunt was creaming like mad all the time she was 
sucking off the men, and her whole body felt warm, almost like she had a 
fever. She wanted more sex like that, but the beatings and whippings were 
more than she wanted to do again.

Helen had known hundreds of prostitutes over the years, but since she moved 
to the Northeast and got into computer programming, she had lost contact 
with that world. She decided to put off looking for other prostitutes to 
work at the inn for the moment, because her daughters were coming home from 
college for the summer. Dara was 23 and had graduated in May 2003 from James 
Madison University, and now she was working on her M.Ed at the University of 
Mary Washington. Laurel was 21 and halfway through her junior year at the 
University of Pittsburgh. They arrived at the inn a few days after the sex 
party, and Helen hugged them tight. She always missed her girls while they 
were away at college. Her son Dillon was finishing high school in Manassas, 
staying with friends, and was due to come up to the inn about a week later.

Helen had tried to keep her past a secret from her children, but she was 
afraid they had found out at least parts of it, and she was terrified they 
would hate her if they found out the whole dirty story of her life -- so she 
decided she had to tell them. She sat down with Dara and Laurel in the 
MidSummer Night's Dream Room after dinner that night. The room was Helen's 
favorite guest room, with a 1920's-era walnut queen-size bed, a daybed for 
additional sleeping, a private bathroom with a wonderfully unique antique 
claw-foot tub, and a private entrance to the second story porch overlooking 
a 100-year-old English walnut tree. It was a quiet rear bedroom with views 
of the garden, and on one wall was an enchanting mural by Denver artist 
Jeanne Ross, depicting a single tall tree with mountains and the sun in 
muted blues, grays, and pinks. Helen sat on the bed and the girls joined 
her, and for an hour they talked about college. Then Helen slowly angled the 
conversation around to her own childhood, and she was trying to think of a 
way to tell her daughters about her early life... but they she started to 
cry, and Dara and Laurel both asked her what was the matter. When Helen 
didn't answer, Dara took her hand. "Mom, we sorta know what you're getting 
at." Helen froze, and stared at her older daughter. Then Laurel took her 
other hand and said, "We found some old papers in  your desk, from back when 
you were... well, when you were younger than we are."

Helen knew what Laurel meant -- it was a folder Helen kept locked in her 
desk at home, containing a narrative she had written years before, with 
details about her early life and her teenage years. There were also some 
pictures of her and her mother at the whorehouse where she grew up, and some 
pictures of her turning tricks on the street -- and pictures of her having 
sex with some of her johns. She never meant for her children to find out 
about all that -- but now it was too late to keep it a secret. She felt hot 
tears of shame on her cheeks as her face twisted with humiliation, and she 
started to get up and go to her room -- but her daughters stopped her, each 
holding one of her hands and moving closer to her. Dara hugged her, and 
Laurel hugged them both, and Helen burst into tears. She just sat there 
crying for a while, hoping she could make it right with her girls. Finally 
she sat up and looked at them, her two beautiful daughters -- how had she 
been so lucky? Could she avoid losing them when they knew the dirty truth 
about what she had been -- and what she still was now?

Helen started to speak, but Dara squeezed her hand and said, "Mom, we came 
across that file a few years ago -- remember when you were in the hospital 
for your thyroid tests? The doctor called to ask about your prescriptions, 
and we looked in your desk... and there it was. We didn't mean to snoop." 
Helen looked from one girl to the other, trying to decide what to say. What 
COULD she say? God, what a mess this was. She felt tears welling up in her 
eyes again, and then Laurel moved closer to her and said, "Mom, we're so 
proud of what you've done with your life. You've given us and Dillon such a 
good home, and you've always been there for us. We don't care about what you 
used to be or where you came from -- whatever it was and wherever it was, 
you turned out GREAT!" She leaned in and kissed her mother, and Dara did the 
same thing, and Helen dissolved in tears. What had she done to deserve such 
wonderful daughters? After a while, Helen told them the whole story, ending 
with the group of men that visited the inn the week before. She showed the 
girls her wounds, and they helped her change the bandages on her blisters 
and cuts.

Then Helen explained her problem -- getting more girls to service the men 
who come to the inn expecting sex. She had another group booked for that 
weekend, and she was thinking about canceling them. That was when Laurel 
said something that made Helen feel both wonderful and awful at the same 
time. Laurel said, "Mom, we want to help -- we want to do what you've been 
doing." Helen just stared at her, not quite knowing what she meant, and then 
Dara added her voice to the proposal. "Mom, don't you get it? We want to be 
prostitutes, just like you. We want to help you run the inn, and we'll do 
whatever you need us to do -- WHATEVER you need. You've been there for us 
all our lives, you're sending us to college -- we want to start paying you 
back, by helping you when you need help." Helen's voice quivered as she 
finally spoke. "I don't know what to say. You girls and Dillon are the best 
things in my life, and if you've read that folder in my desk, you know my 
life started out pretty badly. I never wanted ANY of this for you -- I 
wanted to lift you up so you would never have to do the things I did." 
Laurel took her hand and said, "Mom, you did what you HAD to do. And anyway, 
it's just sex, right? You know we've both had sex and we've had boyfriends 
-- why not make some money doing it here?" And that's when Helen finally 
realized that the way she thought of prostitution -- as a dirty, painful 
thing a woman does as a last resort -- was just not the way her daughters 
thought of it. To them, it was just a way to get paid for doing something 
they would do anyway, and they didn't attach the social stigma that people 
of Helen's generation did. She still had some reservations -- but she 
decided then and there to accept her daughters' offer. She hugged them 
tight, and told them they had joined the family business. But she told them 
she wanted them to stay in college, and this would just be something to do 
for the summer.


CHAPTER 9: Dara and Laurel Get Started

The next group booked into the inn for a sex party arrived on Saturday 
morning. There were 15 men, and Helen greeted them at the front door along 
with Dara and Laurel, all of them dressed as the men had instructed. Helen 
was completely naked -- except for a paper bag over her head, alluding to 
what men said about an ugly girl: "She'd have to put a paper bag over her 
head before I'd fuck her." The men laughed at Helen when they saw her 
standing there, totally bare, not even wearing shoes, and they all squeezed 
her breasts or fingered her slit as they came in. One of them put his face 
up against the paper bag and told her, "You must be an ugly old whore -- do 
any men still want to fuck you?" He laughed and pinched her nipple, then 
turned to the other girls. Dara and Laurel were wearing skimpy bras and 
g-strings and high heels, and they rubbed their bare bodies against the men 
as they came in. Dara was 5 feet 5 and wore glasses, and her body was a bit 
stocky. Her face wasn't very pretty and she had mousy brown hair. Laurel was 
5 feet 7 with red hair and a beautiful face, and her body was slim, with 
long arms and legs. Both girls fawned over the men, as their mother had told 
them to do, and bulges were already appearing in the men's pants. They all 
went into the Living Room, with Dara leading her mother by the hand, and 
Helen made a little speech of welcome, her voice muffled by the bag over her 
head. While she was talking, one of the men got up and took her right nipple 
in his fingers and twisted it a little, making Helen gasp as tingles shot 
through her body. He continued to fondle her breasts, rolling both nipples 
in his fingers while she finished her welcoming speech. The blisters and 
bruises from the earlier weekend had mostly faded away, but there were still 
some marks on her buttocks from the whipping she received, and the men 
looked at them with interest.

When she finished welcoming the men, Helen offered them lap dances from her 
daughters, and Dara and Laurel went to work. The men were fully clothed, and 
the girls each picked a man and started to rub her body over his. Helen told 
the men they should feel free to touch the girls, and Laurel's john pushed 
her bra up around her neck and started to fondle her breasts. She moaned 
like a good little whore, and closed her eyes as she humped herself on his 
leg. Dara's trick had his hand between her legs, working his finger under 
her g-string so he could penetrate her slit. She gasped as he finger-fucked 
her a little, moving her hips to meet his fingers and help him get deeper 
inside her. Both girls were rubbing their groins against the men, trying to 
get them all hot, and Laurel's guy already had a wet spot on his pants. 
Dara's john was wet, too, from pre-cum leaking out of his cock, and the 
girls smiled lewdly. Their slits were leaking vaginal secretions onto the 
men's pants, but nobody seemed to mind. The girls gave all the men erotic 
lap dances while Helen stood there listening to them commenting on how 
stupid she looked with the bag on her head, and how ugly she must be. All 
the men had wet spots on their pants when the girls finished giving them lap 
dances. Helen thanked the men again, and remained standing with the bag over 
her head while Dara and Laurel escorted the men to their rooms on the second 
floor, asking them to come down to the Contemplation Garden at noon for a 
special activity before lunch. Then the girls went to Helen's room to get 
ready.

Dara told her mother that she thought the men were not very nice, making 
degrading comments about Helen while she stood right there. Helen just 
sighed and told her that all men are like that, especially in the presence 
of prostitutes -- they like the feeling of power they get from degrading 
women. They can't do it at home with their wives, so they come to a nice inn 
and do it there. The important thing, Helen told her daughters, is to enjoy 
it -- ignore what the man says, or even better, get into it and act like a 
slutty little whore. Helen knew her girls were smart enough not to feel 
degraded by anything a man said to them, unless she decided to feel 
degraded, and Helen knew how much fun that was -- some of her hottest 
moments as a prostitute came when a man was treating her like the lowest 
whore in creation. When she thought about how she looked, submitting to 
whatever the man told her to do, her whole body burned and her cunt got so 
creamy it leaked down her legs. Her nipples got so swollen they hurt, and 
she kept begging to be screwed. There was no feeling like it, and Helen knew 
her girls were going to learn how good it felt soon.


CHAPTER 10: The Contemplation Garden

The Contemplation Garden was an inviting outdoor space for group meetings, 
movement activities, and walking meditation, taking up the large space at 
the rear of the inn, and surrounded by a high ornamental wood fence or tall 
shrubbery on three sides to insure complete privacy. The men were all there 
when Helen and her daughters came down at noon. All three girls were dressed 
identically now, wearing nothing except high heels, gold chains around their 
waists, and nipple clamps connected by a thin gold chain. Helen explained 
that the Glowing Dawn Retreat emphasized the importance of meditation to 
promote spiritual and physical health, and the group activity today would 
allow the men to meditate and prepare themselves for the rest of the 
activities over the weekend. She and her daughters would get down on their 
knees, side by side, and three men at a time would stand in front of them. 
Each girl would take a cock in her mouth and just hold it there, not sucking 
or licking, while the man and the girl meditated for as long as the man 
wanted. The only contact between the man and the girl would be his cock in 
her mouth -- she would keep her hands flat on the ground in front of her. 
When the man had finished meditating, he was free to simply disengage -- or, 
if he wanted to achieve a climax, he could thrust into the girl's mouth 
while she fellated him to ejaculation. When he was ready to cum, the girl 
would swallow his load, and then the next three men would take their places 
in front of the girls, and so on until all the men had been serviced.

Helen got down on her knees, with Dara on her left and Laurel on her right, 
and they all put their hands on the ground in front of them, closed their 
eyes, and opened their mouths. The first three men stepped up and inserted 
their cocks in the girls' mouths, and a period of silent meditation began. 
The girls were motionless, their lips wrapped around the cocks in their 
mouths, and the men had their eyes closed as they meditated. The sounds of 
birds wafted through the Contemplation Garden and a slight breeze moved the 
leaves on the trees. Some of the men and girls were making a low sound as 
they intoned their mantra, and the other men watched from various positions 
around the garden. The nipple clamps on the girls' breasts gave them 
something to concentrate on -- the two sharp, bright spots of intense pain 
on each girl's chest served as a constant reminder of what she was and why 
she was here. After about 15 minutes, the man in Laurel's mouth moved his 
hands to her head and held her in place as he started to thrust into her 
mouth. Laurel kept her hands on the ground and started to lick his cock, her 
cheeks sinking into her face as she sucked hard. She made some loud slurping 
sounds as she fellated the man, and after a few minutes he groaned as his 
cock exploded in her mouth. Laurel gulped down his sperm, swallowing again 
and again as the warm creamy semen flooded into her mouth. Helen's john 
finished meditating, and took a handful of her hair in one hand and started 
to move her head forward and backward on his erection. Helen sucked as hard 
as she could, and his ejaculation came quickly. Some of his jism ran down 
her chin and dripped onto her breasts as she swallowed his load. The man in 
Dara's mouth was still standing motionless, but as Helen finished sucking 
off her john, Dara gagged a little as the man thrust into her mouth, probing 
for the back of her throat. Her face reddened with embarrassment as she 
coughed a little, but then she started to suck him, and he crossed his arms 
and moved his hips, thrusting into her slowly. He stayed hard for another 
ten minutes before he was ready to cum, and then he grabbed Dara by her ears 
and pulled her head into his groin, forcing the head of his cock down her 
throat and making her gag again. She wanted to be a good little whore for 
him, so she quickly moved her head so the cock receded slightly from her 
throat and she was able to keep sucking him. He thrust into her mouth faster 
and faster, making Dara moan as he mauled her head with his hands. Then he 
groaned and held still for a moment, and Dara moaned loudly as her mouth was 
filled with his semen. She gulped it down, and the man thrust his groin hard 
against her, burying her face in his pubic hair as his cock throbbed 
heavily, spurting again and again. Dara was breathless as she swallowed, her 
eyes closed and her nipples burning from the clamps.

The meditation session continued through the afternoon, with the girls 
offering their mouths to the men willingly. The nipple clamps on their 
breasts felt like icepicks sticking in their tits, blotting out all other 
thoughts and allowing the girls to achieve the singleness of purpose that is 
one of the goals of meditation. As the session went on, wet spots formed on 
the ground between each girl's legs, as her vagina lubricated heavily and 
the secretions leaked out and dripped off her cunt lips onto the ground. The 
wet spots got larger and larger as the session went on. There were pauses 
while the men waited so they could get hard again, and by the time the 
session ended in late afternoon, the girls had fellated each man three 
times. Their cum was a little watery toward the end, but the girls sucked 
them as long as necessary to make them ejaculate, and sometimes put their 
hands on the man's scrotum and squeezed gently, to increase the amount of 
sperm when he was ready to cum. The girls slurped down every drop of warm 
semen that flooded into their mouths, and after each man climaxed, the girl 
kissed the head of his cock when he finished ejaculating, then looked up at 
him and smiled and thanked him for the gift of his sperm. The men went into 
the Dining Room for a late lunch, and Helen and her daughters went up to her 
room to prepare for the evening session.


CHAPTER 11: An Intimate Discussion

In her room, the girls took off their nipple clamps and put on robes, and 
then Helen talked to her daughters about their feelings after the meditation 
session in the Contemplation Garden. Dara said she loved it -- she had 
sucked off some guys on dates, but this was a whole different thing. It made 
her feel powerful, and it made her feel dirty -- she loved the idea of the 
other men watching her while she sucked a cock. She said her nipples were 
burning all the time she was wearing the nipple clamps, and it hurt a lot -- 
but it made the whole experience hotter for her. Laurel said she had never 
felt her pussy cream as much as it did -- warm juices kept leaking out of 
her slit, and she said she could smell her own pussy, and that made her feel 
SO hot. Laurel's milky white skin was flushed as she talked about the 
session, and she told her mother she had never had so many orgasms in so 
short a time. Dara said she had a lot of orgasms, too, and she felt like she 
was gasping for breath because she had so many cums so close together.

Helen told them she, too, had quite a few orgasms during the session, but 
she told the girls she felt the important thing for them was to reach a deep 
level of meditation during a session like that. For the men, meditation is 
often the goal at first, but by the end of a session, the man just wants to 
cum -- it's biological. For the girl, the important thing was to look within 
herself and try to come to a better understanding of her own emotions and 
feelings -- and having a man's cock in her mouth or between her legs can 
enhance her ability to focus on her feelings. Helen said some of her best 
orgasms during the session were achieved after her mind had reached a high 
level of awareness, and the level was pushed even higher when the man began 
to thrust into her mouth -- the sexual emotions charged the moment like a 
jolt of electricity, and allowed her to achieve tantric levels she had never 
felt before. She wanted her girls to work on elevating their mindstates to 
higher levels, and both girls agreed that this was important.

Helen asked Dara about her sexual experiences at James Madison University, 
where she had graduated in 2003, and the girl said most of her time was 
spent studying, with little time for dates. When she needed to cum, she used 
a vibrator to masturbate, and she really enjoyed using it. Now she was in 
the M.Ed program at the University of Mary Washington and had more time, so 
she was dating three guys she had met on campus. She got fucked three or 
four times each week, but still used her vibrator in between dates. Laurel 
had another year at the University of Pittsburgh to get her bachelor's 
degree, and when her mother asked about her sex life, she said she didn't 
date at all, because there was just no time. She used a vibrator like her 
sister, but she liked to insert it in her ass while she rubbed her breasts 
and clitoris until she orgasmed. She said she always had multiple orgasms 
that left her worn out and breathless, and her nipples got so swollen that 
they hurt. She opened her robe so her mother and sister could see her 
breasts, and her nipples were sticking out like little cocks on her chest. 
Her areolas were small, not much bigger than her nipples, and were swollen 
and pink. Dara touched Laurel's left nipple, and Laurel arched her back and 
moaned a little, grinning at her sister. They hugged, and Helen put her arms 
around them and held them.


CHAPTER 12: The Jewel in the Heart Room

The Saturday evening session was held in the Jewel in the Heart Room, a 
light-filled hexagon shaped room in the north turret, which offered views of 
historic, tree-lined Main Street. It had a queen-size walnut sleigh bed and 
a huge private bathroom with a multi-jet shower. One side of the room had 
three windows on three sides of the hexagon, and the men told the girls to 
go and stand in the windows, facing the street. Helen and her daughters were 
naked, wearing only high heels with ankle straps, and it was dark enough 
that they could be seen from outside the inn, so Helen asked the men to turn 
off the lights in the room, to avoid the people in town discovering what 
sort of activities went on in the inn. An antique chandelier hung above the 
foot of the bed, and the men turned it off, but the wall light and table 
lamp at the head of the bed were left on. Helen was worried that she and the 
girls might be seen through the windows, but she went ahead and stood in the 
middle window, and Dara and Laurel stood in the windows on either side. It 
was dark outside, and even though the small lamps in the room didn't put out 
a lot of light, Helen felt starkly naked as she stood there with her breasts 
hanging out. She could see people walking on the street below, but there 
wasn't much light coming through the windows from the outside, and no one 
seemed to take any notice of her or her daughters standing there naked. The 
men told them to hold hands and begin to meditate, and Helen took her 
daughters' hands in hers and closed her eyes.

After a few minutes, three of the men went and stood behind the three girls, 
nestling their cocks in the girls' ass cracks, but not trying to penetrate 
them. The men put their arms around the girls' waists and held them, 
chanting their mantras quietly as they began to meditate. The other men were 
scattered around the room watching, some of them meditating themselves, and 
the room was very quiet. After holding their positions for almost half an 
hour, the men all at once moved their hands down to the girls' slits, not 
penetrating them, but spreading their pussy lips apart, opening the most 
private entrance to their bodies and holding their pussies open. The girls 
unconsciously spread their legs a little, enjoying the lewd feeling of 
exposing their bodies to anybody that could see them through the windows. 
The men held them that way for a while, continuing to meditate as they felt 
the girls' vaginal secretions start to ooze down over their fingers. Helen's 
cunt was creaming like mad, and she gripped her daughters' hands tighter as 
she felt the warmth inside her vagina start to leak out and run down her 
thighs. Her john's fingers were getting slippery, and Helen gasped as he got 
a new grip on her labia, spreading her lips wide open as her juices really 
started to flow. She felt his cock throbbing in her ass crack as it started 
to get hard.

The other two men were also getting erections, and Dara and Laurel felt the 
cocks stiffening between their buttocks. As if at a signal, all three men 
released the girls' labia and put their hands on the girls' ass cheeks, 
spreading them as the girls bent forward to allow access to their tightest 
holes. The johns positioned the heads of their cocks against the girls' 
assholes. Laurel was penetrated first, and she gave a little gasp as the 
head of the cock stretched her anal sphincter. Her john pushed harder, and 
Laurel grunted quietly as the head of the cock slipped into her rectum. 
Helen's fucker forced his erection into her ass more easily, but Dara's john 
had to push hard to get past her anal ring, and she groaned as the pain shot 
through her. Then all three girls leaned forward, resting their hands on the 
windowsill as their fuckers started to move inside them. The men fucked them 
for a few minutes, then stopped and just held them motionless and meditated 
for a while before they resumed thrusting into the girls' asses. Helen felt 
herself smiling a little, loving the feeling of total exposure, knowing she 
could be seen from the street but not caring, almost wishing the people 
would look up and see her standing there with a cock in her ass, holding 
hands with her daughters as they enjoyed the same intimate relations with 
their johns, all of them achieving a higher level of personal awareness as 
they offered their assholes for the enjoyment of their customers.

The men stopped again, leaving their erections in the girls' rectums while 
they put their arms around them and cupped their breasts. Dara and Laurel 
had never done anything like this before, and they looked at Helen, their 
mouths hanging open, barely breathing as they enjoyed the feeling of being 
totally possessed by a man. Helen looked at Dara, then at Laurel, and smiled 
a little, elated that her girls were learning that sex could help them reach 
a higher tantric level. Then the men started to roll the girls' nipples in 
their fingers, and all three girls moaned, feeling the cocks in their asses 
throbbing heavily as the men started to thrust again. They kept up this 
pattern, fucking for a while, then pausing for meditation, until the girls 
had so many orgasms they lost count. It was more than an hour before the men 
were ready to cum. Helen's anus was sore and raw by that time, but she 
endured it because she knew the man liked it. She could tell that her 
daughters were having some pain, from the way their bodies jerked and they 
grunted a little when the men gave them hard thrusts. Then, without any 
warning, Dara's john gave her three very deep thrusts, making her gasp with 
an orgasm, and he ejaculated in her ass. Helen's fucker held her hips 
against him and thrust once, as deep as he could, and then his semen flooded 
into her rectum and filled her ass. As Helen had another orgasm from the 
heavenly feeling of the warm sperm in her bowels, Laurel moaned loudly and 
gasped as her john started hammering his cock into her ass. He held her 
shoulders and pulled her upright as he started to cum, and Laurel's whole 
body quivered as she had a series of orgasms that seemed to go on forever. 
She could feel her anal sphincter gripping the shaft of the cock, milking 
it, forcing every drop of his sweet creamy jism into her bowels, and she 
closed her eyes and moaned, wanting the moment to last forever. She had 
never been happier, never felt so much like a woman, never enjoyed a man's 
cock as much as this one. It felt like every muscle in her body was 
straining, and she realized her legs were rigid and locked in place as she 
clenched her buttocks, trying to prolong the unbelievably hot feeling of her 
rectum being flooded with sperm.

Now Helen and her daughters all had sperm in their bowels, and the men 
wanted them to expel it into each other's mouths. Dara lay down on her back 
and opened her mouth while her mother straddled her, facing Dara's feet. 
Helen squatted slowly, positioning her hips above Dara's waiting mouth, and 
lowered herself until her anus was a few inches from Dara's lips. Helen 
strained like she was having a bowel movement, and after a few moments, a 
stream of thick whitish cream oozed out of her asshole and drained down into 
Dara's open mouth. Dara gasped as the jism touched her tongue, and her body 
jerked reflexively. She held the goo in her mouth as Helen strained, and 
another gush of sperm flowed into her mouth. Some gassy bubbles gurgled out 
of Helen's ass as she expelled the semen from her body, and she made some 
pooping sounds as she strained. The men laughed at her as her face reddened 
with embarrassment, but she continued straining until all the cum was out of 
her ass. Dara held the full load of sperm in her mouth for a moment, letting 
the men see it, and then she closed her eyes and began to meditate, moving 
her tongue slowly so the jism in her mouth roiled around a little. It was a 
dirty white color, with little flecks of Helen's feces mixed with the creamy 
white semen. Dara was breathing through her nose, and she caught the pungent 
odor of her mother's rectum as Helen continued to squat over her face. Then 
Helen stood up, and Dara spread her legs so her mother could get down on her 
knees between her legs. Helen lowered her head to her daughter's pussy and 
began to lick her out, and Dara inhaled sharply as her mother's tongue found 
her erect clitoris. Dara's head jerked spasmodically as she had an orgasm, 
and the sperm in her open mouth jiggled and roiled, but she didn't spill a 
drop. Dara was chanting "ommm" as she meditated, and she felt her mind 
expanding as she saw a mental image of herself laying there on the floor 
naked, her mouth full of sperm and feces, her own mother performing 
cunnilingus on her, and Dara suddenly felt like her mind was exploding as 
she reached a higher level of consciousness. She chanted louder, breathing 
faster as she had another orgasm. She could smell the sperm in her mouth, 
and the heavy musky odor made her quiver as her mind sparkled with 
fireworks. Helen's tongue on her clit was driving her crazy, moving 
insistently and working her into a sexual frenzy. Then Helen reached up and 
took Dara's hands in hers, clasping them tightly, and Dara went rigid as she 
swallowed the load of sperm and a wave of orgasms swept through her body. 
Every little movement of Helen's tongue on her daughter's erect clit gave 
Dara a new orgasm, making her body jerk and spasm like a puppet. Her body 
was covered with sweat, glistening in the light from the two lamps as the 
girl finished swallowing the semen and moaned, holding her mother's hands 
tightly as she came down slowly.

The men applauded when Dara finally sat up, her whole body trembling from 
the orgasms her mother had given her. She had a huge smile on her face, and 
her nipples were sticking out like pencils. Now it was Laurel's turn to 
meditate, so she lay down beside her sister, and Helen stood at the side to 
watch her daughters. Dara stood up, then turned around and squatted over 
Laurel's beautiful face. Dara had a tiny brown asshole, and she positioned 
it just above Laurel's soft lips. As Laurel opened her mouth, Dara closed 
her eyes and strained, and a thin stream of sperm sprayed out of her asshole 
into Laurel's mouth. There was a pooping sound as Dara farted out some 
bubbles of sperm, and then a thicker stream of cum ran out of her ass and 
disappeared between Laurel's waiting lips. Dara farted again, and some white 
droplets of sperm hit Laurel's forehead and cheeks and chin before another 
gush of semen flooded out of Dara's bowels into her sister's mouth. Dara's 
pussy was creaming heavily, and she put one hand between her legs and 
masturbated, her fingers moving like lightning as she gave herself an 
orgasm. She stuck three fingers up her slit, fucking herself hard as she 
jabbed her fingers into her twat again and again, grunting like a pig as she 
had more orgasms. The strength of her orgasms made her bowels move, and 
another big gush of jism emptied out of her asshole as Laurel caught it in 
her mouth. Laurel caught the sweet odor of Dara's pussy, mixed with the 
ripeness of the sperm and excrement coming out of her rectum, and Laurel had 
a strong orgasm, causing the sperm in her mouth to roll around, and a little 
of it ran out of the corners of her mouth. When Dara finished shitting cum 
into Laurel's mouth, she got down on her knees and started to eat Laurel's 
pussy, and Laurel moaned as more orgasms hit her. Dara took her hands and 
gripped them as she licked her sister's cunt, and Laurel went rigid as she 
had a strong orgasm. She had been chanting quietly, but now she took a deep 
breath through her nose and then swallowed the sperm, her throat rolling as 
the thick juices moved down into her stomach. She licked her lips and used 
one hand to scoop up the sperm from her face and put it in her mouth so she 
could swallow it. She pulled her sister up from between her legs and gave 
her a sloppy kiss, and the men applauded as Dara's tongue snaked into 
Laurel's mouth and licked up some sperm for herself.

Finally it was Helen's turn to receive the semen from Laurel's anus. Helen 
lay down on her back as Laurel got up and stood over her, squatting and 
moving her hips lower over her mother's face until her asshole almost 
touched Helen's open lips. Helen raised her head and kissed Laurel's ass, 
and the men all laughed as Laurel gasped with surprise. Then Laurel varied 
the ritual by lowering her hips so she was sitting on Helen's face, and 
Helen wrapped her lips around her daughter's asshole. Laurel strained a 
little, and Helen gasped as a flood of sperm spurted directly into her mouth 
from Laurel's rectum. Helen had her hands on Laurel's buttocks, spreading 
them so she could work her face deep into Laurel's ass crack, and Helen's 
throat rippled as she swallowed the warm jism and feces as fast as they 
flowed out of Laurel's bowels. Helen made some slurping sounds as she 
mouthed Laurel's anus, and Laurel's eyes widened as she felt her mother 
actually sucking the warm sperm out of her asshole. The girl's legs were 
trembling from the strain of squatting over Helen's face, and as she enjoyed 
the heavenly feeling of her mother's lips on her anus, Laurel had a huge 
orgasm. Her pussy gushed a stream of warm secretions that leaked down over 
Helen's chin and throat. Laurel quickly put her hand between her legs and 
dug two fingers into her clitoris, and grunted like an animal as she 
orgasmed. She masturbated, moving her fingers lightly over her clit, and had 
a series of hot orgasms that left her breathless. Helen had her hands on 
Laurel's hips, holding the girl's body against her so she could suck more 
cum out of her ass, swallowing the thick curds as fast as she could. Finally 
Laurel's bowels were empty, and she slowly raised herself off her mother's 
face. Helen had streaks of sperm and feces all over her face, and slime from 
Laurel's cunt on her chin and throat. She smiled as she used her fingers to 
scoop up the mess on her face and insert the scum in her mouth so she could 
swallow it. Laurel helped her mother to her feet, and all three girls stood 
there flushed with pride as the men all applauded their performance.


CHAPTER 13: The Dining Room

For the final meditation session on Sunday morning, the men came to the 
Dining Room, which had stained glass windows and a ceiling with oak beams 
and wainscot throughout. The room was 14 by 22 feet, with comfortable 
seating for as many as 15 at three round tables. It was ideal for group 
dining or work sessions, but today it would be used for a special group 
meditation session and sex party to mark the end of the men's weekend stay 
at the inn. They had arranged with Helen for one of Glowing Morn's retreat 
programs called "Opening the Heart: Exploring Pain and Love." In the online 
brochure she had sent to them, the program is described as follows: "This is 
one of Glowing Morn's most powerful workshops.  The power of pain and love 
is immense, and the heart is the great center of absorption and 
transformation for both. Through group discussion, the reading of Sufi 
poetry, and meditations developed by Stephen Levine, David Spangler, and 
Osho, we will try to arrive at a deeper understanding of the role both pain 
and love play in our journey toward union with the Great Heart of All."

During the session, both pain and love would be experienced by Helen and her 
daughters, for the entertainment and stimulation of the men. The first goal 
was for the men to give each girl as much pain as she could stand. The men 
could use any part of the girl's body, but most of the pain would inflicted 
through her genitals, because of their extreme sensitivity, and because 
girls are deeply fearful of having their sexual organs hurt. A girl can 
withstand a beating almost as well as a man, but when her genitals are 
exposed and vulnerable, she develops a fear that reaches into the soul of 
her femininity and corrodes her spirit. After she has been sufficiently hurt 
by sexual torture, a girl's mind becomes twisted, and she begins to develop 
feelings of trust toward the very man that is hurting her. She comes to 
realize that the man holds her fate in his hands, and he can stop the 
torture -- or continue it. Through verbal manipulation, the man can easily 
convince the girl that it is her own fault that she is being hurt, and he 
would really prefer not to hurt her. The girl, strangely, develops strong 
feelings of attachment toward her torturer that then develop into love. Sufi 
poetry and meditations developed by Stephen Levine, David Spangler, and Osho 
are used to reinforce the girl's feelings toward her attacker, and the 
result is a girl that actually BEGS the man to hurt her, as a way for her to 
prove her love for him.

In extreme cases, girls have asked to be killed during very intense sessions 
using these methods, and Helen had found internet articles about girls who 
had been tortured to the point where they begged to be killed while having 
sex with their attackers. One 19-year-old girl was tortured for a week. Her 
left breast was cut off and her right nipple was burned with a soldering 
iron, and then the hot iron was forced into her rectum while she screamed. 
Despite these tortures, she begged her attacker to have sex with her -- and 
to strangle her to death. She knew she could never have a meaningful life 
after her body was disfigured so badly, and she opened her legs willingly 
for her rapist. He choked her while he was raping her, and then he began to 
strangle her as he was about to cum. Her eyes were wide open when he 
ejaculated in her cunt, and she had time to smile slightly before she died.

Another girl, 15 years old, was tortured for a month, starved almost to 
death, and lost her left breast and her clitoris during her torture 
sessions. Her left eye was removed, three of her fingers were broken before 
they were cut off, and she lost her right ear. Her upper lip was cut off, 
and then her face was used for knife play. When the men were done with her, 
the girl had more than 60 cuts on her face and neck, including one long cut 
that ran from her lower lip down across her throat, then angled over and 
down across the top of her right breast, where it ended at her areola. Her 
nipple had been removed, and she had been forced to drink acid that scarred 
her mouth and esophagus. At the end, a metal hook was inserted into her anus 
and forced deep into her bowels -- and then her large intestine was pulled 
out of her asshole and wrapped around her waist. After all this, she asked 
her torturer to have sex to her, to allow her to show him how much she loved 
him. She had been starved to the point where she weighed only 80 pounds -- 
she was 5 feet 6 inches tall, and her normal weight was 125 -- and she 
looked like she had a very bad case of anorexia. But her attacker spread her 
skinny legs and forced his erection into her dried-up vagina, and raped her 
viciously while the girl smiled up at him and begged him not to stop. When 
his thrusts speeded up and he was almost ready to cum, the girl asked him to 
use his knife on her one more time. As he continued thrusting into her 
bleeding pussy, he gutted her. He inserted the knife just above her slit and 
sliced into her body, moving the knife upward past her navel, across her 
midsection, and ending next to her remaining breast. He lay the knife down 
and used his hands to spread her open, never stopping the savage thrusts of 
his big cock into her shrunken, dried-up pussy as he peeled back her skin. 
Then, just before he started to cum, he reached into her body cavity and 
lifted out two handfuls of her intestines and showed them to her. The girl, 
amazingly, was still alive and conscious, and she smiled dreamily as she 
looked at her own entrails in her rapist's hands. The unbelievable look on 
her face made him ejaculate, pumping a huge load of semen into what was left 
of the girl's twat. As he was cumming, he looked down and saw his own sperm 
oozing out of her vagina -- he had sliced through the wall of her birth 
canal with his knife when he was cutting the girl open. He reached inside 
her body and scooped up a handful of his own thick jism, then smeared it all 
over the girl's face. She was losing consciousness, but she looked at him 
with her remaining eye and whispered "I love you so much..." as she died.

Reading these accounts of meditation sessions had fired Helen's imagination, 
and while she didn't intend for today's session to go so far, she was 
intensely interested in reaching a deeper understanding of herself and her 
daughters through the efforts of the men. When the men entered the Dining 
Room, Helen and the girls were standing just inside the door, dressed 
specially for the occasion in sexy outfits. Each girl was wearing the same 
items Helen had worn for her session in the Sunroom with the first group of 
men she had entertained at the inn: two black leather belts above and below 
her bare breasts, a tiny black silk g-string, and "fuck me" shoes. The belts 
were cinched so tightly around their breasts that they had trouble breathing 
-- but their tits were sticking out like melons, firm and round and swollen 
and about to burst.

Since the subject of the retreat was pain and love, each girl was wearing 
slut shoes that were too small, so her feet would hurt throughout the 
session. Helen and Dara were wearing black 6-inch high heels with ankle 
straps. Helen needed size 8C and was wearing size 7B. Dara normally used 
size 7D and was wearing size 6B. The extreme height of the heels made it 
almost impossible for Helen and Dara to walk in their slut shoes. Their feet 
were vertical in the shoes, with their toes bent painfully at a 90-degree 
angle, and the shoes had very long pointed toes, making it hard to avoid 
stumbling when they tried to walk. Helen and Dara had to walk a little 
bow-legged while they wore these high heels, and to be sure they couldn't 
take off their shoes during the session, each ankle strap had a small 
padlock so the strap could not be unfastened as long as it was locked in 
place. When the men entered the room, Helen handed them the keys for the 
padlocks, so they could see that there was no way for the girls to avoid the 
pain of wearing the high heels as long as the men wanted. The ankle straps 
had been cinched up very tightly before being buckled, and the straps were 
cutting into the girls' ankles painfully.

Laurel's shoes were special. She had tiny feet and needed size 6B, but she 
was wearing white ankle strap ballet heels in size 5A. These are similar to 
ballet boots -- they force the girl to stand on her toes like a ballet 
dancer en pointe -- but instead of having high laced tops that extended up 
past her ankle and gave more support, Laurel's shoes covered only her toes, 
and left the rest of her foot bare except for a thin leather strip that held 
the ankle strap in place. Her ankle straps, like her mother's and sister's, 
were padlocked on her feet, and the 8-inch heels kept her feet in a vertical 
position. The shoes were extremely painful even in the correct size, and 
Laurel was wearing one size too small. She had been practicing to get ready 
for this occasion, but she still couldn't stand in the heels for more than 
15 minutes, and walking was very precarious -- if she fell, she would break 
her ankles because the shoes offered no support at all. The girl has to keep 
her toes pointed all the time she wears them, and her full body weight must 
be supported by her toes.

Standing in ballet heels forces the girl's calf muscles and achilles tendons 
into their shortest position, making them very sore in a very short time -- 
and after taking them off, it takes some time for the girl's feet and ankles 
to resume their normal function. One of the reasons that ballet heels and 
ballet boots are made is to inflict punishment on those who wear them. 
Without sufficient padding, standing in ballet heels or ballet boots can 
damage the toes and cause them to bleed, which can lead to gangrene and 
require the toes to be amputated. Laurel's ballet heels offered much less 
support than ballet boots, forcing her to expend more effort to stand or 
walk in them. Helen knew the men would find it sexually exciting to watch 
Laurel's extreme discomfort and pain, which would be much greater than 
Helen's or Dara's, though both of them would have a lot of pain from their 
high heels. To accentuate the effect of the ballet heels, Laurel was wearing 
a hobble -- a leather belt cinched tightly around her knees, locking her 
thighs together and allowing her to take only tiny steps. Walking in ballet 
heels almost demands that the girl keep her legs apart, walking carefully to 
avoid falling -- but with the leather hobble around her knees, it would be 
very difficult for Laurel to walk at all in her ballet heels.


CHAPTER 14: Poetry and Sexual Torture

Helen began by asking the men to take seats at the three round tables in the 
room, and then she and her daughters went to the tables and lay back over 
them, so their heads were hanging off one side and their legs dangling off 
the other side. Each table had been laid with implements that the men could 
use to inflict pain on the girls -- pliers, dildos of various sizes, nipple 
clamps, and butt plugs with metal studs -- plus the usual flatware, which 
could be inserted into the girls' genitals. The room grew silent as the men 
looked at the naked girls spread out on the tables, and then Helen closed 
her eyes and recited one stanza of a Sufi poem written by Jalaluddin Rumi:

Longing is the core of mystery.
Longing itself brings the cure.
The only rule is, Suffer the pain.

Helen lifted her legs, bending her knees so her high heels were almost 
touching the curve of her ass, and spread her legs as she lowered the heels 
of her slut shoes to the edge of the table. She raised her midsection off 
the table, so her pussy and asshole were completely exposed. It took a lot 
of effort to maintain that position, with only her shoulders and her high 
heels touching the table. Her groin was thrust upward lewdly, accentuating 
the openness and complete availability of the two holes between her open 
legs, and inviting the men to do anything to her they wanted. Her arms were 
at her sides on the tabletop as she asked the men to honor her and her 
daughters with the gift of pain. Dara lifted her legs and spread them apart 
like her mother, with her high heels on the edge of the table where she was 
laying. She raised her body in the air and opened her legs, exposing herself 
totally, showing her complete willingness to submit to whatever the men 
wanted to do to her.

Laurel could only lift her legs and bend her knees -- the leather hobble 
forced her to keep her legs together. She positioned the heels of her shoes 
over the edge of the table and lifted her body as her mother and sister had 
done, and one of the men at her table worked his hand in between her upper 
thighs, then moved up and penetrated her slit with two fingers. Laurel 
gasped as he forced his fingers deep inside her pussy, and then he made her 
scream when he positioned his thumb at the top of her slit and dug his 
thumbnail into her erect clitoris. A girl's clit is extremely sensitive, and 
when she masturbates, she rubs only the hood -- the clitoris itself is 
seldom touched because the feeling is too intense. When the man dug his 
thumbnail into Laurel's clit, it felt like a knife cutting into her body -- 
there was no pleasure, only a hot, bright, searing pain that tore through 
her body and tore a scream from her throat. At the same moment, a man at 
Helen's table picked up a pair of pliers from the table and got her left 
nipple between the jaws, then squeezed the pliers shut. Helen's scream was 
as loud as Laurel's had been, and sweat broke out on her face as the man 
held the pliers closed around her erect nipple. At Dara's table, one of the 
men used a soup spoon to penetrate the girl's anus, wrenching a scream from 
her as the widest part of the spoon was forced past her anal sphincter and 
into her rectum, distending the sensitive flesh as Dara screamed. The man 
rotated the spoon inside Dara's rectum, twisting his hand left and right in 
a swishing motion that made Dara grunt in pain as the sensitive walls of her 
rectum were lacerated by the edges of the spoon.

Helen's face was contorted with pain as her nipple was held in the grip of 
the pliers, but she was able to recite, in a soft, trembling voice, an 
excerpt from "Master of the Jinn," a Sufi novel by Karchmar:

No sorrow has Helen but You,
No hope but You, no joy but You,
You are the pain, and You are the cure.

The original verse had "Haadi" in the first line, but Helen substituted her 
own name to personalize the verse and show the men her true feelings about 
them. She looked around the table as she spoke, wanting each man to 
recognize her sincerity, wanting them to understand her need for pain. She 
repeated the last line: "You are the pain, and You are the cure," and tears 
came to her eyes as she continued, "You are my true path to enlightenment... 
you can see what we are, my daughters and me... we are nothing without your 
help... you have the power to show us the path to a higher consciousness... 
only a man can convey the knowledge that comes with pain, the knowledge that 
allows us to find the cure... help us, please help us... hurt us, that we 
might find the true path..." Helen gasped as one of the other men at her 
table stuck a dinner fork into her right nipple. The tines of the fork drew 
a little blood as they penetrated the cone of her erect nipple, and the man 
wiggled the fork slightly, making Helen groan loudly in pain and panic. She 
knew he could tear off her nipple if he wanted to, and she was petrified 
with fear -- but then she looked into his eyes, and she understood that he 
was simply granting her wish for a cleansing pain. She arched her back, 
forcing her breast against the fork, and she grunted as the tines dug deeper 
into her nipple. The man withdrew the fork from her flesh, and Helen turned 
her head to look at him, afraid he was going to stop -- but then he raked 
the points of the tines across her areola and nipple, making Helen yelp. Her 
whole body spasmed as the man repeated his action, raking the fork across 
her breast again and again. Every time the tines scraped across her erect 
nipple, Helen went crazy -- a jolt of electricity seemed to shoot through 
her breast, and her body spasmed again and again. She was almost delirious 
with pain -- but then a small smile appeared on her lips. She was enjoying 
it! She was grimacing and smiling at the same time, because the man was 
causing her pain and pleasure -- and it was at that moment that Helen 
realized she loved the man. She didn't know his name or anything about him. 
All she knew was that he had hurt her in a way that only a girl can be hurt, 
and his hurting her had made her spirit soar -- and for that, she loved him. 
She was filled with a warm feeling, a glow of understanding that went from 
her mind to her heart, She was filled with love for this man who had brought 
her to this level in her life, and she would never forget him. Nor the man 
holding the pliers on her left nipple -- she realized that the constant pain 
in her left breast had enhanced the more acute pain in her right breast, and 
she suddenly knew that she loved both of these men. She raised her hands and 
cupped her breasts, pushing them against the pliers and the fork, moaning, 
murmuring "I love you, oh god I love you..." again and again as she 
submitted completely to the men hurting her tits.


CHAPTER 15: Dara's Pain and Suffering

At the next table, Dara heard her mother recite the Karchmar verse, and she 
wanted to progress to the higher level of self-awareness that only harsh 
sexual pain would bring. She moved her hips, thrusting them against the 
spoon buried in her asshole, and gasped as the hard edges of the spoon 
irritated the walls of her rectum. She wanted more, so she used her hands to 
cup her breasts. "Please hurt me here... I need you to hurt my tits..." One 
of the men picked up a set of nipple clamps from the table and showed them 
to Dara. The clamps had two semicircles that could be opened for insertion 
of the girl's nipple -- and each semicircle was lined with tiny needles. 
Extending from the top and bottom of the clamps were curved metal prongs 
tipped with hooks, like small fishhooks, and when the clamps were attached, 
the hooks would dig into the soft breast tissue above and below the girl's 
areola, locking the clamps in place. The clamps could not be removed without 
ripping out a chunk of the girl's breast tissue, and the man held them close 
to Dara's face and asked her if she wanted them to be used on her tits. "You 
have such pretty breasts... are you sure you want this? You'll have 
permanent scars if we use these clamps on you -- you need to be sure. Do you 
want that much pain? Are you strong enough to handle it?" He leaned down 
closer to the girl's pale face, and spoke very quietly. "Do you love me 
enough to let me do this to you? Is your love strong enough to overcome the 
pain? Is it?"

Dara was afraid. She stared at the clamps, looking at the hooks that would 
be imbedded in her soft flesh, and the needles that would be forced into the 
stiff cones of her nipples. She could see her nipples, stiffly erect, poking 
out lewdly like little cocks on her chest, rising and falling as she 
breathed fast. Did she really have the strength to ask for this? She knew it 
had to be something she asked for -- simple torture would never allow her to 
attain the spiritual levels she was seeking. She breathed deeply and said, 
"Yes, I want it... this is what I need... please do it to me..." The man 
positioned one of the clamps over her left breast, and with one motion he 
drove it down onto her nipple, squeezing the two semicircles together as 
soon as the clamp was in place. The clamp locked around her stiff nipple, 
and Dara screamed as the needles were driven into her flesh. Then the pain 
of the two hooks hit her like an electric shock. The ends of the curved 
metal prongs had disappeared into the flesh of her breasts, and the 
fishhooks were now buried in her soft tissues. They felt like wasp stings, 
burning and itching at the same time, and Dara writhed on the table, her 
hands clenched into fists as she tried to control the pain -- but she 
couldn't do it. Her throat was hoarse from screaming, but she couldn't stop 
-- and then the man positioned the other clamp over her right breast. She 
mewled like a wounded animal, whimpering uselessly as the clamp was lowered 
over her stiff nipple, and then she gave a full-throated scream as it was 
locked into place. Her nipples felt like icepicks had been stuck in them, 
and her breasts were on fire from the hooks imbedded in her soft flesh. She 
was trying to scream, but she was so hoarse, only a raspy croak came out of 
her mouth. She mewled some more, her body rocking left and right on the 
table as the men watched her.

But then a strange thing happened. Dara suddenly felt a calmness descend 
over her, and she stopped writhing on the table. Her breasts still hurt 
terribly, and her nipples were two bright spots of intense pain, but somehow 
her mind had grasped the full impact of what had happened to her. She had 
willingly submitted to sexual pain of a kind she couldn't have imagined, and 
she did not feel anger toward the men that had hurt her. She realized the 
spoon was still in her rectum, the pain pushed aside while her breasts were 
being hurt, and she actually welcomed the sharp pain buried in her asshole. 
Through the deep spirituality and wisdom of the Sufi poetry her mother had 
recited, Dara had been able to embrace the possibility of gaining personal 
self-awareness and inner peace by offering her body willingly to these men. 
Her submissiveness, which seemed like a surrendering of her will, was 
actually the path that enabled her to achieve a level of understanding and 
acceptance that she would never have thought she herself capable of 
reaching. She opened her eyes and slowly smiled up at the men, and then, 
incredibly, she said softly, "Thank you for hurting me... what you've given 
me is a great gift -- I love you so much!" She had tears in her eyes, as 
much from the deep feelings she was experiencing as from the pain in her 
breasts and her rectum. The men at her table applauded, and Dara turned her 
head to look at her mother. Helen smiled at her, aware that her older 
daughter had made a personal breakthrough in achieving such a high level of 
awareness and acceptance. Both of them had pain lines in their faces, but 
the underlying feelings of achievement showed through their pain.


CHAPTER 16: Laurel's Path to Self-Awareness

Laurel had watched as best she could while her mother and sister underwent 
their tortures at the other tables. Laurel still had the man's fingers up 
her snatch, and his thumbnail digging into her clitoris. He had fingered her 
all the time he was watching the other tables, and now it was time to 
concentrate on Laurel and her needs. She had listened raptly when her mother 
recited the Sufi poetry, and it filled her with a longing to experience 
heightened self-awareness that would enable her to enjoy life on a higher 
level. She had talked to her mom about these subjects before, and she had a 
strong desire to better herself using these methods. She had cried when her 
mom said she loved the man that hurt her, and more tears ran down her 
Laurel's cheeks when she heard her sister profess her love for the men who 
had hurt her breasts and her rectum. Laurel didn't yet know what would 
happen to her, but somehow she knew it would lead her to the true path of 
knowledge and fulfillment.

Even laying on her back on the table, Laurel's breasts stuck out lewdly on 
her chest because of the leather belts she was wearing around her tits. She 
had seen the men at her table looking at her boobs, and she knew they wanted 
to inflict some pain there, but she still had no idea what they were going 
to do. Her tits were jiggling with every little movement of her body -- the 
tight belts around her chest made her jugs stick out like cantaloupes, all 
big and tight and bouncy. She could see her nipples, so erect that they 
hurt, jutting out proudly as she lay there, completely exposed. She still 
had her ballet heels on the edge of the table, but the leather hobble forced 
her to keep her legs together, though she could move her ankles a little, 
since the hobble was cinched around her knees. Some of the men had been 
rubbing her lower legs and ankles, fascinated by the extreme height of her 
ballet heels, and the way the shoes forced her to keep her toes pointed all 
the time. Her calves and ankles were already aching from wearing the slut 
shoes, and she knew there would be a lot more pain before the day was over.

Helen had put some items on Laurel's table that wasn't on the other tables 
-- two plastic cups with suction bulbs attached, and four small cages with 
ports that could be attached to round ports in the cups.
The men had seen these items before, and knew what to do with them. They put 
the two cups over Laurel's breasts, then opened the round ports. One of the 
cages was then connected to the port on Laurel's left breast, and the man 
tapped the cage -- and two bees flew out, bumping against the clear plastic 
cup and then settling on the soft flesh of Laurel's breast. The girl was 
staring with huge eyes, not quite believing what she was seeing -- and then 
another small cage was connected to the port, and when the man tapped it, a 
wasp crawled out and dropped onto Laurel's tit. The port was sealed, and the 
men switched over to Laurel's right breast and repeated the actions. The 
girl had two bees and a wasp on each of her breasts, and she tried to stay 
absolutely still. But then the men took the two suction bulbs and pumped 
them a few times, creating a slight vacuum inside the cups, forcing them 
down tight around Laurel's breasts and sealing them against her pale white 
flesh. The suction bulbs were then pumped a few more times -- and Laurel's 
eyes widened even more as the suction caused her areolas and the front of 
her breasts to become swollen and engorged with blood. The men pumped the 
suction bulbs again, making Laurel's areolas stick out further, until they 
started to hurt -- and then they pumped even more, and Laurel yelped as the 
flesh of her breasts was sucked deeper into the cups, causing intense pain 
as her areolas got hugely swollen and the edges of the cups cut into the 
soft flesh at the base of her breasts.

The movement of Laurel's tits made the bees and wasps move around on her 
soft skin, and she was so nervous, she couldn't hold still. A bee crawled up 
on her left nipple, and the girl's body jerked involuntarily. The bee 
crawled down the outside of her breast -- and then it stung her. The stinger 
of a bee is barbed, and stays in the skin. The bee dies after it has stung. 
The stinger has a venom pack attached which continues to pump venom into the 
victim for several minutes, so it is important to remove the stinger 
promptly -- but no one did this for Laurel. Her body went rigid and she let 
out a hoarse scream. It felt like a knife had been plunged into her tit -- 
she had never felt anything like it. Her eyes had snapped shut when the bee 
stung her, and now she opened them and looked down at her breast and saw a 
bright red spot on the side. The stinger was protruding from her skin, and 
the spot was throbbing and getting larger as more poison was pumped into the 
flesh of her breast. She whimpered as she saw the other bee and the wasp 
moving around, and now the bees and wasp on her other breast were crawling 
around, too. The wasp on her right breast crawled slowly up the side of her 
breast, stopping at her areola -- and then it moved up onto her nipple. The 
nipple was extremely erect, and the wasp sat there for a moment while Laurel 
tried not to breathe -- and then the wasp stung her directly on the top of 
her nipple. Laurel's face contorted in pain and her arms stiffened at her 
sides as she screamed, an awful sound that seemed to be ripped from her 
throat. Her scream ended in a gurgling sound as saliva ran out of the 
corners of her mouth, and she clenched her teeth as the pain radiated out 
from her breast.

Wasps, unlike bees, can sting repeatedly -- and as Laurel writhed in pain, 
the wasp moved a little and stung her again, at the base of her nipple. 
There was no way to describe Laurel's pain -- a bright searing slash of fire 
seemed to paralyze her. The girl's mind was stuttering, and she couldn't see 
clearly -- it was like looking into the sun, and she was almost blinded. She 
realized she was sobbing, and she could feel hot tears running down her 
cheeks. Her whole body was rigid, and she was trying desperately not to let 
her breasts jiggle, but her breathing was ragged, and the insects kept 
moving around. She almost had her breathing under control when she was stung 
again, on both breasts at the same moment. The two bees on her right tit 
stung her, one on the side of her breast -- and the other at the base of her 
nipple, where the wasp had just stung her. The wasp on her left breast stung 
her on her areola at the same moment, and her screams seemed to go on 
forever. Each breath tore a new scream from her throat, a raspy sound that 
gurgled into silence before she took a breath and screamed again.

The three bees that had stung Laurel were dead now, laying at the bases of 
the cups on her breasts. But one of the bees on her left tit hadn't stung 
her yet, and her eyes were wide with fear as she watched it move around. The 
two wasps were agitated, crawling around on the swell of her breasts, 
tickling her flesh as they moved all over her tits. She could see their 
stingers extended, and she closed her eyes and cried. She lay there for 
several minutes, feeling the stings on her breasts throbbing and getting 
larger as more venom from the bees was pumped into her flesh. The men 
watched her, fascinated that a girl could take that much pain and still not 
faint. The men at the other tables had turned to watch Laurel, and most of 
the men in the room had erections bulging in their pants. The insects kept 
crawling around on Laurel's tits, and finally one of the men at her table 
got tired of waiting. He reached out and tapped on the plastic cups several 
times, making Laurel's breasts jiggle, and the girl shuddered, wanting to 
close her eyes but not daring to stop watching the bee and the two wasps. 
The insects all flew up in the air when her tits bounced around, and the bee 
came to rest at the base of her left breast, up against the plastic cup 
sealed over her tit -- and it stung her. Laurel was so hoarse from 
screaming, hardly any sound came out of her mouth as she tried to scream 
again. She clenched her fists, holding her arms stiffly at her sides, unable 
to protect her body from the stings. The bee was dead now, but Laurel mewled 
as she felt the stinger pumping more venom into her breast, making it burn 
like it was on fire. The sting was located just where the edge of the 
plastic cup met the soft flesh of her tit, and as the spot became engorged 
with bee venom, it swelled up and forced her flesh hard up against the edge 
of the cup, making the sting hurt even more.

Laurel was sobbing, just about at the end of her endurance -- it felt like 
she had been running for miles, and she was breathing so fast, she felt like 
she was going to hyperventilate. Her face was flushed a deep red from 
exhaustion, from the sheer physical effort her body had endured trying to 
deal with the multiple stings she had received. She didn't feel or see the 
two wasps. They had been knocked down to the base of her breasts while the 
man was jiggling the plastic cups, but now they were crawling up the sides 
of her breasts. When Laurel finally was able to open here eyes, what she saw 
paralyzed her -- a wasp on each of her erect nipples, turning slowly, around 
and around. Her right nipple had already been stung twice, and the areola on 
her left breast had a throbbing red spot where the wasp had stung her. As 
she held her breath, the two wasps suddenly stung her, both of the stingers 
hitting the exact center of her nipples. Laurel opened her mouth to scream, 
but she had nothing left, and drool ran out the sides of her mouth and down 
over her chin. Her whole body spasmed as her nipples started to swell up, 
and a high mewling cry came from her throat as the pain possessed her. Her 
fingers curled into claws, and her fingernails scraped the sides of her legs 
furiously, drawing blood as she mindlessly writhed around on the table. Her 
whole body was covered with heavy sweat, and she seemed to be going into 
shock. The men started to remove the plastic cups from her breasts, but the 
vacuum seal was so tight, they had to hurt her a little more, tugging on the 
cups and distending her breasts even more until the cups popped loose. The 
men quickly put the traps down over the wasps and removed them, leaving 
Laurel laying there panting, her tits encicled by bright red lines at the 
base, and her beautiful breasts marred by the angry red welts caused by the 
nine stings she had received. Both of her nipples were hugely swollen, and 
the other stings on her areola and sides of her breasts were throbbing and 
unbelievably painful. It felt like her breasts had been cut with a knife, 
again and again, and the pain wouldn't stop until the venom had been carried 
away by her blood. This would take at least half an hour, and the men could 
have applied medicine to ease her pain -- but they didn't do that. They sat 
and watched Laurel suffer and listened to her cry while they rubbed their 
cocks through their pants.


CHAPER 17: The Magnitude of the Pain

Helen could hear Laurel sobbing, and she knew Dara was in severe pain from 
the clamps on her nipples. Helen's own breasts were throbbing with pain -- 
her left nipple was still caught in the grip of the pliers, and her right 
nipple had been raked with the dinner fork until she started to bleed. In 
the silence of the room, broken only by the crying of her daughters, Helen 
recited "The Pain of Love" by Dr. Javad Nurbakhsh:

For one who sees truly,
love's pain is itself the remedy:
But this mystery is revealed
only to those who are afflicted.

Helen raised her voice a little, reciting a Sufi saying, with some changes 
appropriate for the occasion. "Dara... Laurel... overcome any bitterness 
that may have come because you were not up to the magnitude of the pain that 
was entrusted to you. Like the mother of the world who carries the pain of 
the world in her heart, each of us is part of her heart and is endowed with 
a certain measure of cosmic pain. You are sharing in the totality of that 
pain. You are called upon to meet it in joy instead of self-pity. The 
secret: offer your heart as a vehicle to transform cosmic suffering into 
joy."

Hearing her mother's voice and receiving inspiration from it, Dara reached 
for the hand of one of the men at her table, and placed it on her left 
breast, wincing in pain as the needles in the clamp dug into the erect cone 
of her nipple. She arched her back, forcing her breast into the man's hand, 
showing him what she wanted -- and he started to move the clamp against her 
breast, causing the hooks above and below her areola to dig into the soft 
flesh of her tit. He put his other hand on her right breast and dug the 
clamp into her softness, making Dara cry -- but she was smiling through her 
tears, and she amazingly did feel love for the man doing this to her. By 
forcing her to face her pain and embrace it, he was guiding her down the 
path of suffering that led to joy and love. Laurel turned her head to watch 
her sister, and started to cry from the thrill of seeing Dara fulfilling her 
destiny. Laurel looked at one of the men at her table, then looked down at 
her breasts, and the man reached over and caressed Laurel's breasts. The 
girl grimaced in pain as the stings on her tits started to throb again, and 
her breathing increased as she tried to handle the wave of pain that 
emanated from the insect bites. The man was rubbing the stings on her 
nipples, squeezing the inflamed cones of flesh, and the pain was 
unbelievable -- like he was cutting her nipples with razors. Laurel 
whimpered like a wounded child, mewling in her throat, struggling to get 
past the suffering and find the love she was seeking. She wanted it so much, 
and she was willing to give so much, to offer her naked body to these men, 
to be hurt in ways she never could have imagined, and she raised her upper 
body a little, forcing her breasts against the man's hands, gasping as the 
pain reached new heights. She was sweating heavily and her skin was flushed 
as she worked hard to endure the pain she needed and wanted.


CHAPTER 18: The Men's Point of View

The men at all the tables couldn't believe what was happening -- three 
little whores begging to be tortured! What stupid, worthless sluts. The men 
had signed up for the session when Helen pitched it in her email, but they 
weren't really interested in growing their "personal values" or "a deeper 
understanding" -- they just wanted to hurt girls, and here was the perfect 
opportunity. These little bitches could really take it, too -- the youngest 
one had wasp and bee stings all over her tits and she was just laying there, 
asking for more. The old whore, Helen, wasn't much to look at, but her tits 
were OK, and it looked like she had trained her slutty daughters to be good 
prostitutes. That was all the men cared about, and they were looking forward 
to another chance to screw the shit out of these stupid whores. For the 
moment, just hurting their tits was enough. All three of the sluts had 
offered their breasts for punishment, practically begged for it, and now 
they were getting what they deserved. The older daughter was laying there 
with fishhooks in her breasts, crying because she had reached a deeper 
understanding of herself -- or some crap like that. Watching her writhing in 
pain when the clamps were put on her tits, with little needles in her 
nipples and hooks imbedded in her breasts, made it easier to forget that she 
wasn't very pretty. The old whore had a face that was OK, but her tits were 
small and sagging, and she had stretch marks all over her body, and she 
sweated a lot. The men could smell her sweating as she lay there with pliers 
on one of her tits and a fork stuck in the other.

The men could also smell Dara's and Laurel's cunts. The extreme stimulation 
the girls had received, delivered directly to their breasts, had triggered 
lubrication in their vaginas. Their bodies interpreted the stimulation of 
their breasts as a prelude to sexual activity and began to lubricate their 
cunts. As a girl becomes sexually aroused, the tissue lining the first inch 
or so of her vagina (the vaginal epithelium) begins to swell and exude a 
clear slippery fluid out through the hundreds of small ducts buried in the 
lining. These vaginal juices first appear inside the vagina, and as the 
woman's arousal builds up, the secretions will run leak of her pussy. Also, 
the labia minora at the entrance of the vagina have the Bartholin glands and 
other glands which produce mucous that aids in lubrication. When the 
fishhooks were forced into Dara's breasts, and the needles in the clamps 
penetrated her nipples, the stimulation of the thousands of nerve endings in 
her tits, and especially in her nipples, sent a signal to her brain that 
sexual activity was imminent, and that triggered the lubrication of her 
pussy. When Laurel received wasp and bee stings on her breasts and directly 
on her nipples, her mind interpreted the harsh feeling of pain as an 
overload of pleasure -- too much of a good thing. Her brain couldn't 
differentiate between the gentle caress of a lover and the exquisitely 
painful sting of a wasp -- her brain simply received the urgent signals sent 
by the ultra-sensitive nerve clusters in her breasts and nipples, and 
immediately opened the glands in her cunt, and her vagina started creaming 
like mad. The girls' cunts were lubricating so heavily that the secretions 
had run down the curve of their asses onto the tables. The sharp, musky odor 
of vaginal juices filled the room. Helen's pussy didn't lubricate as much 
because she was so much older than her daughters, but a little cunt slime 
had leaked out of her pussy. The room smelled like a whorehouse, and the 
effect on the men's cocks was obvious -- their pants were bulging with 
erections, and they needed to screw the girls.

But the men wanted to hurt the girls a little more before they started 
screwing them, and it would be easy, given the premise that the session was 
intended to help everyone find love by experiencing pain. They started by 
removing the pliers and the fork from Helen's breasts, because they wanted 
her to stand up -- but they wanted her tits to hurt, so they put a pair of 
nipple clamps on her while she was still laying on the table. These were 
extreme clamps -- large alligator clips with metal teeth that gripped the 
nipple viciously, with no rubber covering as most clamps had. Helen grimaced 
as the first clamp was attached to her left nipple, and groaned when her 
right nipple was clamped. The clamps were connected with a heavy gold chain, 
and as soon as Helen stood up she could feel her nipples and areolas being 
distended by the weight of the chain. She stood carefully in her high heels, 
her legs trembling after such a long time on the table, and she turned her 
head to watch Dara being helped off her table. Dara's breasts still had the 
fishhooks embedded in them, and the clamps with rings of small needles 
embedded in her nipples, and every little movement made her grit her teeth 
in pain. She teetered in her high heels, trying not to fall down, and then 
the men were ready to stand Laurel up -- but first they put clamps on her 
nipples, the same kind as her mother was wearing. Laurel's breasts were 
still throbbing with pain from the bee and wasp stings, and when the men 
attached one of the alligator clamps to her left nipple, she screamed in 
pain -- it was like being stung again, as the metal teeth of the clamp bit 
into her nipple exactly where she had been stung, forcing the venom into the 
surrounding flesh. Laurel was sobbing as the men put the other clamp on her 
right nipple, and she mewled softly as she tried to stand up. Her ballet 
heels forced her to stand on her toes, and the pain was almost as bad as the 
stings on her breasts. Her ankles were on fire as soon as she stood up, and 
she had to watch her balance to avoid falling on her round little ass.

The girls were directed to stand together at one end of the Dining Room, and 
they walked slowly, their feet aching from wearing high heels that were too 
small for their feet. Helen and Dara walked carefully, their feet forced 
into a vertical position by the harsh angle of their high heels. The 
extremely long pointy toes made it very easy to stumble, and they had to be 
careful with every step. They walked with their knees bent, and the men 
laughed at them, enjoying the pain they were having. For Helen and Dara, it 
was another welcome opportunity to endure the pain that they hoped would 
bring love into their souls. They knew why the men were laughing -- men like 
to see naked girls uncomfortable and embarrassed -- and Helen and Dara felt 
like they were sharing the same feelings Jesus Christ experienced during His 
torment. It was thrilling for Helen to feel her spirit soar above her pain, 
and she gloried in the idea of sharing such an ordeal with her Savior. She 
looked at Dara, and she could see that her older daughter was feeling 
something similar -- her face was glowing, and Helen just knew she had gone 
through an awakening.

Laurel trailed behind her mother and sister, trying to keep her balance in 
her ballet heels. Her feet were held in a vertical position, and she didn't 
even get the relief of standing with her toes flat, as Helen and Dara could. 
Laurel's ballet heels forced her to stand on her toes like a ballerina, with 
her full weight supported only by her toes, and the pain was unbelievable. 
Her calves and ankles were on fire, and her feet were aching like they were 
on fire. Every step sent pain shooting up her legs, and she walked a little 
bowlegged, with her knees bent, just trying not to fall. The men watched her 
with high amusement, and some of them poked her as she walked, making her 
wave her arms to keep her balance. The alligator clamps on her breasts were 
still forcing bee and wasp venom into the soft flesh of her tits, and the 
painful clamps kept jerking back and forth as the heavy chain distended her 
boobs and bounced around with every step. She had her knees bent so much 
that her ass stuck out behind her as she walked, and some of the men slapped 
her buttocks as she passed by, roaring with laughter as she teetered and 
almost fell in her extreme high heels. Several of the men pulled on the 
chain between her breasts, making Laurel groan as her nipples were stretched 
painfully. She was sweating heavily with the sheer physical effort of 
walking in the ballet heels, but finally she reached the end of the room 
where her mother and sister were standing.


CHAPTER 19: Dancing and Hurting

The men told Helen they wanted her and her daughters to dance for them -- 
and shake their tits a lot while they danced. The chains on the girls' 
nipple clamps would bounce around, distending their nipples and causing more 
pain in their breasts -- and having to stand up would cause more pain in 
their feet and ankles from wearing slut shoes that were too small for them. 
Helen and Dara didn't even try to hide their feelings as they stood there in 
their high heels -- their faces showed how uncomfortable they were. Laurel 
had taken two years of ballet when she was younger, but standing on her toes 
in the ballet heels was only slightly easier because of her dance training 
-- her ankles and calves were burning from just walking the few steps over 
to the end of the room, and her face was twisted into a mask of pain as she 
stood there, shifting from one foot to the other while the men watched her 
and laughed at her. They loved seeing girls embarrassed and humiliated and 
hurting, and they were getting plenty to look at today.

Helen started to dance a little, trying to smile, but she kept wincing as 
the heavy chain on her nipple clamps bounced when her breasts jiggled. The 
metal teeth in the alligator clips were biting into the stiff cones of her 
erect nipples, and the pain was like electric shocks with every little 
movement of the chain hanging between her tits. She could see a little blood 
where the clips had broken the soft flesh of her nipples, and it was getting 
worse as she tried to do a sexy dance for the men. She worked hard to keep 
her mind on the Sufi poetry she had recited earlier, and tried to embrace 
the pain that she hoped would lead her spirit to the higher plane of love. 
She looked at the faces of the men watching her, and what she saw was dirty 
and disgusting -- men licking their lips as they watched her, sweating like 
pigs, wanting her body for their own perverted pleasures. But these same men 
had the power to help her and her daughters achieve their goal of raising 
their consciousness to a higher level, and Helen wanted so much to achieve 
that goal, and to help Dara and Laurel achieve it -- to endure the pain 
these men inflicted on her through the lowest sexual torture and 
humiliation, and by enduring the pain, to allow her spirit to soar to levels 
she never thought possible. Helen felt a little tingle in her skin as the 
nobility of her goal became clear to her, and she threw herself into her 
dancing, knowing that every pain she felt was pushing her ever higher toward 
the attainment of the love that all people want and need.

Beside her, Dara was trying to dance, but the needles in her breast clamps 
had poked tiny holes in her nipples, and they were bleeding. The fishhooks 
embedded in her breast tissue were starting to shift under her skin, causing 
deep purple bruises on her breasts, and they were bleeding, too. Little 
trickles of blood had run down over her stomach, past her navel and into her 
pubic hair, but she knew how important this session was to her mother -- and 
it was important to Dara, too. She had been thrilled when her mom had 
recited the Sufi lines of poetry, and she truly believed that she could 
achieve something great here. It seemed clear to her that there was a strong 
connection between pain and love -- it seemed so obvious in the Sufi lines 
and the thoughts they expressed so beautifully -- and she wanted, more than 
anything, to reach the higher level of understanding that the poets 
described. But the pain in her breasts was so bad, she didn't know if she 
would have the strength to see it through. The curved fishhooks in her 
breasts were right there under her eyes, and every time she looked down at 
her tits, her spirit died a little -- would she have permanent scars? She 
could feel the hooks tearing her flesh as she tried to dance, and her erect 
nipples felt like they were on fire from the circle of needles in the clamps 
she was wearing. She tried to block out the pain as she shook her breasts 
lewdly, gritting her teeth as her breasts got torn a little more.

Helen and Dara were moving their feet as they danced, even though their 
extreme high heels made every movement painful. The very long pointy toes on 
the shoes made it very easy to stumble if the toes caught on the carpet, and 
just keeping their balance was not easy because their feet were bent so 
harshly at the toe. They had to keep their knees bent while they danced, 
because the shoes forced them to keep their feet almost vertical. The pain 
in their feet and ankles was constant now, hot and burning like fire, but 
they tried to smile for the men as they danced, shaking their breasts like 
good little whores.

Laurel was doing her best to dance like her mother and her sister, but her 
ballet heels made it hard just to stand up. She was forced to stand on her 
toes, her full body weight supported only by the padded ends of the fetish 
shoes, and she had to keep shifting from one foot to the other to avoid 
falling down. The 8-inch heels on the shoes gave her a little support, but 
it was very hard to keep her balance because the surface of the shoes below 
her toes was so small, only about two or three square inches -- and she had 
to keep her balance while her calves and ankles were strained to the 
breaking point with the effort of just keeping her body upright. The muscles 
in her lower legs and feet were aching and starting to cramp, and it felt 
like she had been running for miles. She was breathing fast from the sheer 
physical effort of standing in the ballet heels, and trying to dance in them 
was almost more than she could bear. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, 
from the physical exhaustion she was feeling, and from the feeling of 
desperation that made her want to just sit down on the floor. She really 
wanted to please the men, and she knew her mother's dedication to the Sufi 
philosophy was very strong and sincere, and Laurel wanted to achieve the 
same inner goals as her mother and sister -- but it was just so hard! The 
muscles in her calves and ankles were cramping very badly, and her legs were 
trembling, almost numb from the strain she had put on them. She kept trying 
to smile as she danced, but the pain in her breasts was constant now, like a 
bad toothache, and she knew the bee and wasp venom was in her bloodstream 
and the pain wouldn't stop for hours. Her nipples were throbbing painfully 
with every beat of her heart, and the harsh bite of the alligator clamps was 
like two icepicks stuck into her breasts. She could see the red welts all 
over her tits from the bee and wasp stings, and she couldn't stop crying -- 
but she kept trying to smile, knowing her mom would want her to be a good 
little whore for these men.

Helen motioned for Dara and Laurel to face each other and stand closer, so 
their breasts would rub together while they danced. Laurel reached out and 
took Dara's hands in hers, to help keep her balance in the ballet heels. 
Dara's high heels were a little easier to stand in, and she helped Laurel 
keep her balance as they both wiggled their boobs and danced forward and 
back, jamming their breasts together. Both girls winced every time their 
nipples touched, because the metal clamps on their tits kept hitting each 
other and distending their breasts painfully. Helen was dancing in a slow 
circle around her daughters, rubbing her tits against their backs and arms 
as she moved around the girls. She kept stumbling when the long pointed toes 
of her slut shoes caught in the carpet, and that made her breasts bounce 
around, causing a jolt of pain as the nipple clamps bit into her erect 
nipples. She tried to keep smiling, but the pain was so bad, it felt like 
her tits were on fire, and she had tears running down her cheeks as she 
danced for the men.


CHAPTER 20: The Fucking Begins

The men had been watching Helen and her daughters dance for quite a while, 
and now it was time for the fucking to begin. The girls were told to stand 
in front of a nine-drawer chest on one wall, a chest that was used to store 
napkins and cutlery. The chest was 29 inches high, and had a glass top with 
some flowers in vases. Some of the men moved the vases and set them on the 
floor, and the girls were told to stand in front of the chest, facing the 
wall, and to pull their g-strings down around their ankles, then bend over 
the chest and spread their legs. As they bent over the chest, with their 
elbows and forearms resting on the top, their tits were hanging out like 
cows, the chains on their nipple clamps dangled heavily. There was a large 
rectangular mirror on the wall above the chest, and the girls could see 
their own faces reflected in the mirror as they bent over. Laurel's hobble 
was removed from her knees so she could spread her legs, but she was very 
unsteady in her ballet heels. Their faces were very close to the mirror, and 
they were all sweating heavily from the strain of standing in the extreme 
high heels while they danced for the men. They all held hands, with Helen in 
the middle, and she smiled at her beautiful daughters -- and then her smile 
turned into a grimace as one of the men forced his cock up her snatch. Her 
grip on her daughters' hands tightened until it hurt, and Helen closed her 
eyes as the pain radiated from her pussy throughout her body. Her vagina was 
lubricated a little, but she was so old now, her cunt didn't produce as much 
juice as when she was younger, and the cock hurt a lot as it was forced 
inside her, irritating the walls of her vaginal canal. Helen's fucker held 
her hips and thrust into her viciously, making her grunt in pain as his 
erection filled her vagina and the head of his cock jammed up against her 
cervix. His balls were buried in her pubic hair as he forced the full length 
of his 12-inch cock inside her, thrusting as hard as he could, holding her 
hips in place and actually trying to hurt her with his cock, forcing her 
thighs against the edge of the table painfully. Helen was mewling like a 
wounded animal, rolling her head and gripping her daughters' hands like she 
would never let go. The pain in her vagina was sharp and throbbing, almost 
like she had been penetrated with a knife, and she tried to spread her legs 
even more, opening her body, submitting to her fucker in every way, but her 
pussy still felt like it was filled with acid, burning and irritating the 
sensitive walls of her most private place. Helen raised her head and looked 
at her fucker in the mirror. She could see his face as he stood behind her, 
and she could see how much he enjoyed hurting her. He had a cruel smile on 
his face, and he kept licking his lips as he thrust into Helen's twat.

As Helen stared at her fucker, he leaned forward, looking into her eyes in 
the mirror, and muttered hoarsely, "You want to feel pain, angel? You want 
to find the true path that leads from pain to love? OK, let me help you with 
that..." He held her hips in place and rammed his groin into her body 
savagely, making the cutlery in the drawers rattle, and Helen groaned and 
lowered her head. It was all she could do to stay on her feet, and she 
closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on keeping her balance in her high 
heels -- so she didn't see the two men who now stood behind her daughters. 
Dara and Laurel were penetrated at the same moment, and both girls squealed 
in pain as two large cocks were shoved into their cunts. The two girls were 
much better lubricated than their mother, and the cocks slid in easily -- 
but Dara's fucker had a 14-inch cock, and the man in Laurel's vagina had a 
15-inch cock, and neither girl had ever been fucked by men like that. Their 
vaginal canals were too small to accommodate the erections, and both girls 
felt the pain that only a girl can feel -- the pain of a cock head jammed up 
against her cervix. So Helen and her daughters stood there, bending over the 
cutlery chest, servicing men with cocks as large as their forearms -- while 
12 more men waited their turn.

What was happening to the girls wasn't really fucking -- it was rape. The 
savagery of the thrusting, the single-mindedness of the men, the highly 
charged atmosphere of cruelty in the room -- all these took the action out 
of the realm of "making love" and turned it into a gang rape. The men no 
longer had the slightest interest in maintaining their feigned interest in 
the goals and aims of the meditation session as Helen had described it. The 
men just wanted some pussy, and there were two beautiful young girls and one 
old whore there, each of them with one thing in common -- a fuckhole between 
her legs. Dara's rapist stuck his finger in her asshole as he raped her 
pussy, and fucked both holes at once, making Dara grit her teeth in pain. 
Helen's rapist was trying to penetrate her cervix with the head of his cock, 
thrusting harder and harder as she mewled in pain. Laurel's rapist had a 
scarf around her throat, holding the ends with both hands and forcing her 
head up, choking her a little as he raped her. Laurel's face was a mask of 
panic and fear, and she was sweating heavily as her rapist rode her like a 
horse. Her nostrils flared as she tried to breathe, and her face was flushed 
a deep red from the strain of standing on her toes in the ballet heels while 
she got raped. Her upper body was raised as the man pulled her up with the 
scarf around her neck, and her breasts were jiggling from his hard thrusts 
into her cunt. The chain between her nipple clamps was bouncing heavily, 
distending her boobs and making her grunt with pain every time her rapist 
forced his cock deep into her pussy. She was gripping her mom's hand as 
tight as she could, trying to hold on while her body was assaulted.

Helen's rapist was spanking her while he screwed her, slapping her buttocks 
with his open palms as hard as he could. Dara's rapist had taken off his 
leather belt and he was using it to beat Dara up and down her back, from her 
shoulders to her buttocks, leaving red welts all over her. All three rapists 
were grinning at each other in the mirror, watching each other, getting into 
the group dynamic that occurs among men participating in a gang rape, each 
man trying to hurt his victim more than the other men, to prove his sexual 
prowess and validate his power over girls. The 12 other men were watching 
while they waited for their turns with the girls, and having an audience 
spurred the three rapists to be more aggressive and violent than they would 
have been in private. Seeing the girls' faces reflected in the mirror -- 
being able to watch their faces while they endured the punishment of getting 
raped -- served to ramp up the level of excitement in the room, driving each 
rapist to try to outperform the others, to show off, to prove himself a 
bigger stud than the others. The squeals and cries of the girls went 
straight from their mouths into their rapists' cocks, stiffening them like 
steel inside the girls' cunts.


CHAPTER 21: From Rape to Spiritual Awakening

Helen's rapist was almost ready to cum, and he speeded up his thrusts, 
making Helen whimper in pain as the head of his cock rammed against her 
cervix again and again. Finally he shoved his erection as deep into her twat 
as he could and held it there while he ejaculated. Helen was exhausted from 
the strain of the past few hours, but she was such a slut, she had an orgasm 
when her rapist spewed his jism into her pussy. She could feel the hot cream 
filling her vagina, burning her insides as it spurted up inside her. She 
groaned as another orgasm made her whole body quiver, and she couldn't help 
smiling as she realized what was happening -- she had achieved her goal of 
love through pain! Her own cunt was filled with the proof that this man 
loved her -- loved her enough to spend so much time and attention on her, 
and to honor her with his precious sperm. She felt her spirit soar as the 
cock continued to flood her pussy with cum -- every drop of it evidence of 
his love for her. And Helen realized that she loved him, loved everything he 
and the other men had done to her -- because the pain they gave her allowed 
her to make the long journey from pain to love, and now she had achieved the 
spiritual richness that only such a journey could bring. She reached back 
and stroked her rapist's legs, pulling him closer, wanting to enjoy every 
moment of his closeness, wanting his penis to stay in her vagina forever, 
because it was the proof of his love for her and her love for him. She 
realized she was crying, and finally the tears were coming from the exalted 
state of her spiritual awakening, rather from the pain she was suffering. 
She understood now that every punishment she had been given, every pain she 
had endured, had been a stepping stone on her journey to exultation, and she 
was happier than she had ever been. She sobbed, smiling through her tears of 
happiness, secure in the knowledge that what she had achieved could never be 
taken away from her.

Dara suddenly gripped her mother's hand tighter, and Helen realized her 
daughter's rapist was getting ready to cum. Helen looked at Dara's face in 
the mirror, and saw a girl in the midst of a catharsis, her face flushed a 
deep red as she panted, sweat pouring off her face as her fucker thrust into 
her savagely. Her eyes were closed tight as her body jerked with each 
thrust, and the sharp sounds of her rapist's belt as he beat her sounded 
like pistol shots in the paneled room. The girl's back was bleeding in 
several places where the welts from the belt had formed blisters that had 
burst as the beating continued. She grunted in pain with each thrust of the 
cock in her pussy, and with each stroke of the belt on her back and 
shoulders. Now the man took his belt in both hands and quickly looped it 
around her neck, jerking it tighter and lifting her upper body as he choked 
her. Dara was gasping, trying to breathe, and her rapist gave her several 
savage thrusts that made her orgasm heavily. Her body went rigid and she 
mewled as she spasmed several times, cumming like the sluttiest little 
whore. The belt tightened around her neck and Dara scratched at it with her 
fingers, desperately trying to free herself -- and then her rapist 
ejaculated in her cunt, releasing the belt at the same moment. Dara fell 
forward, smashing her face into the mirror as the belt snaked off her 
throat. Her rapist was cumming inside her, thrusting into her abused pussy, 
ramming her face into the mirror again and again. Her nose was bleeding, but 
she was still having orgasms in spite of all the pain. She uttered a sound 
like a moan, but it was filled with a vibrancy that made her mother look at 
her -- and Helen realized that Dara had succeeded in reaching her goal. 
Through the infliction of so much pain, Dara had earned the love of her 
rapist -- and Helen rejoiced for her. A small smile appeared on Dara's open 
lips, and Helen gripped her hand tighter to let her know she understood what 
had happened.

Dara looked into her mother's eyes in the mirror, and mother and daughter 
shared a moment unlike any in their lives so far. A mother always wants her 
daughter to find love, to be happy -- and Helen had been privileged to be 
there when it happened for Dara, to witness the glow of happiness on her 
daughter's face when she completed the long journey of suffering and pain 
that ended with the soaring realization that this man loved her so much that 
he was willing to spend so much time and energy showing her how special she 
was. And Dara's heart was filled with love for her rapist, the kind of love 
only a girl can experience, the kind of love that only comes after a man 
takes her on a journey that forces her to submit completely to him, forces 
her to allow him access to her body, forces her to open herself to him and 
accept anything he does to her. Dara had prostituted herself, knowing how 
degrading it is for a girl to offer her body to a man for money, and Dara 
had received something far more valuable than the money the man paid to her 
mother -- who was also her pimp. Dara achieved the sublime feeling of being 
totally loved by the man who raped her, and she knew he screwed her because 
he loved her so much. She had never been happier, and she gripped her 
mother's hand as tears of joy streamed down her cheeks.

Laurel's rapist never stopped screwing her all the time her mother and 
sister were getting their cunts filled with their fuckers' sperm, and Laurel 
had watched with deep satisfaction as they attained the personal goals they 
were trying to reach. Laurel wept while she watched her mom's face take on a 
glow like she had never seen before, and when Dara reached for her dream and 
succeeded in making it her own, Laurel cried tears of pure happiness. Now 
Helen and Dara had their eyes on Laurel's face as her rapist started to 
drive his cock into her pussy like a jackhammer, faster and faster, making 
Laurel moan as her body jerked like a rag doll. Her mother held her hand 
tight as Laurel felt her vaginal muscles gripping the cock inside her, 
making love to it, massaging it, welcoming it inside her body. Laurel spread 
her legs a little more, and pain stabbed at her feet and ankles and calves 
-- she had been standing in her ballet heels so long, she was having cramps 
in both legs, and she could barely feel her feet anymore. The constant 
strain of keeping her toes pointed, as she was forced to do while wearing 
the 8-inch heels, was taking a toll on her body. Her full body weight was 
supported only by the tips of her toes, and the muscles in her ankles and 
calves were burning like fire. Her legs were trembling from the sheer 
physical strain of standing in the slut shoes, and she felt wobbly and 
unsteady. But she wanted to be strong for her fucker, so she took a breath 
and braced her arms on the cutlery chest as she felt the cock pistoning in 
and out of her gaping cunt.

Now Laurel's rapist grunted like a pig and held her hips with both hands 
while he drove into her as deep as he could, forcing the head of his cock up 
against her tightly closed cervix, battering her internal genitals savagely. 
The girl mewled in her throat, her eyes closed tight as she tried to hold on 
against the vicious assault on her body, just wanting to be a good little 
whore for the man that was nice enough to spend all this time with her. She 
actually felt warmth in her heart for the man that was raping her, because 
he had given her the perfect gift of pain that had allowed her to reach this 
magic moment -- when she suddenly realized that she loved her rapist. Laurel 
was overcome with emotion as the realization flooded her consciousness -- 
she loved him! She had been lucky enough to make her way through the 
wilderness of pain and come out to find the golden beauty of love blossoming 
inside her vagina -- and she had a shattering orgasm that left her panting 
like a bitch in heat. Her body spasmed around the cock, and she moaned like 
an animal -- and her rapist started to cum. Laurel felt the first hot spurt 
of semen lance into her pussy like molten lava from a volcano, and her body 
jerked again as a series of orgasms swept through her. Her rapist put his 
hands on her breasts and held them against her, and Laurel grunted with deep 
sexual satisfaction. The girl had reached the point where pain becomes 
pleasure, and when her rapist squeezed the globes of her tits, forcing more 
of the insect venom into her breast tissue, her intoxicated brain 
interpreted the stabs of pain as caresses of pleasure, and Laurel orgasmed 
so many times that she could hardly breathe. Sweat poured off her face and 
she flushed a deep red as her body spasmed. Her clitoris was swollen and 
erect, throbbing like a small penis as orgasms kept hitting her again and 
again. Her vagina was filled with sperm and her rapist was still cumming, 
his cock spurting hotly inside her cunt as she gasped for breath. Laurel 
felt like she was on a roller coaster with the wind in her face -- her whole 
body was twitchy with the sheer sexual thrill of her rapist filling her twat 
with his sweet creamy juices. She closed her legs a little, increasing the 
pressure on the cock inside her, and she moaned loudly as she felt more 
semen spurt out of the cock into her tight little cunt. She was in heaven, 
and the smile on her face was radiant as she enjoyed the feeling of being 
completely loved for the first time in her life. She arched her back, 
shivering as another orgasm swept through her body. Her vagina felt bloated 
-- there was so much cum inside her, it was starting to leak out and run 
down her legs. Laurel's rapist reached down between her legs and scooped up 
some of his sperm with his fingers, then held his hand in front of Laurel's 
mouth, and the sharp musky odor of the jism sent Laurel over the edge into 
another orgasm. Her whole body was quivering as she opened her lips and took 
the man's fingers in her mouth, sucking them like she was giving him a 
blowjob. The semen was thick and ropey, and it tasted a little salty -- but 
for Laurel it was the finest cream she had ever tasted. She licked her 
rapist's fingers greedily, swallowing his cum as fast as she could, 
murmuring "thank you... thank you..." as she lapped up his scummy juices. 
When she was done, he pulled his fingers out of her mouth -- and she caught 
his hand in hers and brought it to her lips and kissed the palm of his hand, 
licking it gently, nuzzling it with her face, loving the smell of his 
precious sperm.


CHAPTER 22: Enlightenment Through Gang Rape

Helen and her daughters had sperm filling their cunts now, and the first 
round of fucking was finished. They had been transformed by the pain and 
suffering inflicted on them, and their journey from pain to love had been 
completed successfully. They felt strong bonds with their rapists, and true 
feelings of love had bloomed from the seeds of pain and degradation that had 
been sowed during the session, proving the wisdom and truthfullness of the 
Sufi poetry that had inspired the gathering. The next step would enforce and 
expand the girls' feelings by extending them to all the men in the room. 
Only three of the men had enjoyed the girls' bodies so far, and the other 
12e men had patiently waited. Now it was time for the girls to demonstrate 
that their love wasn't limited to the first men that used their bodies. This 
was a vital element in the completion of the circle implied in all Sufi 
poetry and writing -- that a journey of discovery must be continued until 
certainty is found, certainty that the first leg of the journey was not a 
fluke or a chance occurrence. For Helen and her daughters, this meant that 
the love they had found in their hearts would not be validated unless they 
could extend it -- without limit -- to the other men in the room. The girls 
had to offer their love freely and willingly to ALL the men, or their 
journey would not be complete, and the love they thought they had found 
would be proved to be false and unnatural. For their spiritual awakening to 
take on truly cosmic significance, the girls had to prove -- to themselves 
and to the men -- that they had the capacity to love many different men, to 
offer their bodies freely for the pleasure of any man that wanted them.

In this time and in this place, the next step to enlightenment would be a 
gang rape, with the men screwing Helen and her daughters as many times as 
they could, as savagely as they could, inflicting as much pain as they 
could. If the girls could come through this experience and feel love for the 
very men that inflicted the pain and suffering, it would validate the love 
they already felt for the three men that had raped them, and it would 
validate the concept of love through pain. The men wanted to continue 
hurting the girls' breasts during the gang rape, but in a different way -- 
so the nipple clamps were removed from Helen's and Laurel's tits. Dara's 
clamps required more careful attention because of the needles and fishhooks 
embedded in her breasts and nipples -- if the clamps were removed too 
roughly, her tits could end up as two bleeding masses of shredded tissue 
hanging off her chest. Even if the clamps were removed carefully, the girl 
was going to have permanent scars from the metal prongs embedded above and 
below her areolas. The curved metal prongs were tipped with small fishhooks 
that were now embedded in the soft tissue of Dara's boobs, and if they were 
pulled out, they would snag on her breast tissue and cause severe damage. 
The prongs were long enough to penetrate the girl's epidermis, and the hooks 
were embedded deeply in her dermis, which contains blood vessels, nerves, 
hair roots and sweat glands. The only way to remove the hooks without 
disfiguring Dara's breasts was to force the metal prongs deeper into her 
flesh, angling them so the tip of the fishhook would poke out through her 
epidermis. The metal prongs could then be cut off at skin level, and the 
fishhooks could be removed with needle-nose pliers, pulling the shank of the 
prong out through the same hole.

The procedure would be unbelievably painful for Dara because of the nerves 
in her dermis -- if the hooks penetrated her nerves while the prongs were 
being moved, the pain would be enough to cause her to pass out. Two men held 
her arms while another man cut the prongs away from the nipple clamps, and 
the clamps were opened and carefully opened, removing the circles of needles 
from Dara's erect nipples. Then the first prong was angled slowly inside 
Dara's left tit until the sharp point of the fishhook poked through her 
flesh, where it could be removed with the pliers. There were three more 
prongs sticking out of the girl's breasts, and each one was removed the same 
way. Dara screamed each time one of the prongs was forced into the sensitive 
flesh of her tits, and she was sweating like a horse when the men finished 
with her. She looked down at her breasts and started to cry when she saw the 
holes -- two above each areola, and two below. They would eventually heal, 
but she would be left with permanent scars on her tits.

During the gang rape, the girls would get screwed in their cunts, but the 
men wanted them to endure the added pain of an object shoved up their 
assholes while they were being raped. Helen was told to reach back and 
spread her buttocks, and one of the men inserted a metal-studded 8-inch butt 
plug in her rectum. Helen gasped as the rough metal studs irritated her anus 
and the walls of her rectum as it was forced up her ass. The butt plug had 
small chains attached to the base, and these were run up around Helen's 
waist and fastened securely so she couldn't work the big plug out of her 
asshole while she was being raped. Similar plugs were inserted in Dara's and 
Laurel's asses, but these were longer -- Dara's was ten inches, and Laurel's 
was a full 12 inches long. The men were ready to start raping the girls, but 
then one man had another idea for hurting them -- he wanted to nail their 
breasts to the top of the cutlery chest. Helen begged them not to destroy 
the cabinet -- it was an antique and very valuable -- but the men loved the 
idea. They went to the kitchen and found a hammer and some 40-penny cement 
nails -- five inches long -- that would penetrate the hardened antique wood 
of the cabinet. They did Helen first -- two men held her arms and forced her 
down onto the cabinet so her breasts were resting on the top. A nail was 
positioned an inch above her left areola, and driven through her tit into 
the top of the cabinet with five or six strokes of the hammer. Some blood 
spurted out with each hammer blow, and Helen closed her eyes and screamed 
louder with each stroke. Her right breast was nailed to the cabinet the same 
way, and then it was Dara's turn. The man used the holes in her tits from 
the metal prongs to drive the nails into her soft breasts, and Dara mewled 
like a wounded animal.

Laurel's boobs were so pretty, with nice pink areolas, it was a shame to 
disfigure them by nailing them to the cabinet -- but that didn't stop the 
men. They forced her down on top of the cabinet, then one man took a handful 
of her hair and jerked her head up so her breasts were accessible. The man 
held a nail against the girl's left tit, scratching the point of the nail 
across her milky white skin as Laurel whimpered quietly -- and then he 
brought the hammer down hard, twice, three times, and one more stroke to 
drive the nail deeply into the wood. Laurel was so tense and terrified, she 
lost control of her bladder, and a stream of urine ran down her legs into 
her ballet heels, and puddled around her shoes on the floor. Her face 
reddened with embarrassment and she closed her eyes, ashamed of herself for 
her lack of control. But her eyes popped wide open when another nail was 
hammered into her right breast. She looked down at her boobs, splayed 
against the top of the cabinet, and started sobbing. The area in front of 
the nails was swollen and red, and her areolas were all puffed up. Her 
nipples were painfully erect, sticking out lewdly, making it look like she 
was enjoying this, and she closed her eyes, feeling completely humiliated. 
The man holding the hammer noticed how upset Laurel was, and he reached over 
and touched her nipples with another big nail, raking the sharp point of the 
nail over her swollen areolas and the stiff cones of her nipples. She was 
very sensitive there, and having her breasts nailed to the cabinet had made 
her ultra-sensitive, so the nail bit into her flesh like a knife. Laurel 
yelped in surprise and pain, and then she froze as the man held the nail 
against her left nipple and raised the hammer. He leaned down close to 
Laurel's face and said, "Want me to nail your ugly nipples to the wood, 
angel? You think you'd like that? I know we'd love it -- just say the word." 
He held the hammer above the nail, looking down at the girl as a stream of 
tears flooded her cheeks. He slowly brought the hammer down so it touched 
the head of the nail, and he tapped it very lightly -- and Laurel screamed 
as the point of the nail bit into her nipple just slightly. Her face was 
twisted into a mask of terror, and once again she lost control of her 
bladder and wet herself. The men roared with laughter, adding to her 
feelings of humiliation and desperation.

A girl's breasts are the most noticeable aspect of the onset of puberty, and 
from the time she begins to develop, until her breast matures as a young 
woman, many are preoccupied with their bra size. "Am I too small?"  "Am I 
going to grow any more?" and, in some cases, "Am I too big?" The answers to 
these questions can shape a girl's perception of herself. If she is teased 
about her shape -- or lack of one -- this becomes interwoven into the fabric 
of her self-image. Laurel had always been pleased with the size and shape 
her breasts, and sometimes stood naked in front of a mirror and caressed her 
tits, pretending it was a young man touching her. A large part of her 
self-image was directly related to her beautiful breasts -- and what was 
happening to her now was starting to corrode her feelings of self-worth. The 
bee and wasp stings had caused more pain than she had ever imagined -- and 
the pain was in her breasts, where she was so sensitive and protective of 
her body. Then she was forced to watch while her tits were nailed to the 
cabinet -- and now there was a nail about to be driven through her nipple. 
She knew this would destroy her breast, and her mind just couldn't accept 
the reality of what she would look like with two ugly flaps of scarred 
tissue hanging off her chest. No man would ever want to be with her, and she 
would never be able to nurse a baby -- and it was this thought that sent her 
into prolonged sobbing. She wailed as she imagined her baby, crying and 
hungry, and she couldn't do a thing because her breasts had been ruined -- 
violated and torn to shreds for the pleasure of these men. She choked and 
coughed, her face reddening as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

The man suddenly laughed, then turned and dropped the nails and the hammer 
on one of the tables. He turned back to Laurel and took her erect nipples in 
his fingers and pinched them viciously, and the girl screamed in anger and 
pain. "Don't worry, pussy -- you can keep your tits for a while longer. 
Hurting you like this is too much fun." And he pinched her tits again, as 
hard as he could, rolling her nipples roughly between his fingers and making 
her squeal as he dug his fingernails into the stiff cones. Laurel was 
panting, glaring up at him with anger in her eyes -- but he wasn't finished 
with her. He used his thumbs to grind her nipples against the wood top of 
the cabinet, mashing them flat as he painfully rolled his thumbs around on 
her areolas. Laurel was crying now, begging him to stop, and Helen and Dara 
were yelling at him to stop hurting her. The man laughed, then slapped 
Helen's face with one hand and Dara's with the other. He spoke harshly to 
them. "It's time for you sluts to show us what good little whores you are." 
He beckoned to the next three men in line to rape the girls, and in a moment 
all three pussies were filled with erect cocks. The rapists had just one 
goal in mind -- to hurt these stupid little bitches as much as they could 
before it was time to cum inside them.

Helen and her daughters were raped continuously the rest of Sunday afternoon 
and into the night. Sometimes the men had trouble getting hard again after 
ejaculating several times, so they used various objects to rape the girls 
while they waited for their cocks to get hard again. Helen was screwed with 
the handle of the hammer, and Dara had a five-cell flashlight forced up her 
snatch. Laurel was raped with a champagne bottle, twice -- first the top and 
neck of the bottle were slipped into her twat, and then it was taken out and 
the men tried to force the base of the bottle into her vagina. The bottle 
was 2 1/2 inches wide at its base, and Laurel screamed in agony when it was 
worked into her splayed pussy. She had been told to hold her pussy lips 
open, and she had both hands between her legs, spreading the opening to her 
vagina all she could -- but her fuckhole was just too small to accommodate 
the bottle. Finally the men removed it and shoved the top and neck of the 
bottle inside the girl again, then slowly pushed it further inside her until 
the whole bottle was in her cunt. The men raped her with the bottle, sliding 
it in and out of her sloppy pussy, then forced it all the way inside her 
gaping vagina, so only the base of the bottle was visible, with Laurel's 
pussy lips stretched tight around the bottle. The pain was terrible, and 
Laurel was mewling, begging the men to take it out of her. They told her to 
expel it herself, using just the muscles in her pussy -- they wouldn't let 
her use her fingers. Laurel groaned with frustration, then tried to push, 
but her vagina started cramping, and the girl screamed and closed her eyes 
tight. Finally she tried again, straining carefully, and it was like she was 
giving birth to the bottle -- every time she gritted her teeth and pushed, a 
little more of the bottle slid out of her gaping twat, then she rested a 
little and pushed some more. The men were watching her silently, their 
breath rasping in their throats, and most of them were rubbing their cocks 
as the little whore put on a show for them. Her face was dripping with sweat 
as she worked to expel the big bottle, breathing fast with her lips puckered 
like pregnant women do when they give birth. It took the little slut a long 
time to work the bottle far enough out of her pussy so the narrowing of the 
bottle made it a little easier for her to force it out of her birth canal. 
With one last push she finally expelled it, and the bottle fell to the floor 
as the men applauded. Laurel was breathing fast, her face twisted into a 
mask of pain and humiliation. The bottle was glistening on the floor between 
her legs, covered with thick globs of her vaginal secretions and streaked 
with her blood.

As soon as any of the men got an erection, he picked one of the girls and 
stuck his cock up her snatch and raped her savagely, banging her upper 
thighs against the top of the wood cabinet so hard that all the girls had 
bruises. Their cunts were filled with warm semen that kept oozing out and 
running down their legs into their high heels, then leaking out onto the 
floor around their slut shoes. None of the girls was allowed to rest or go 
to the bathroom, and Helen and Dara both got fucked so hard that they lost 
bladder control and pissed on themselves, the warm urine running down their 
legs and mixing with the sperm already on them. Laurel had peed on herself 
earlier, so she held out longer than her mother and sister, but when her 
bladder got full again, she urinated on the floor after one of her rapists 
finished with her. The girls still had butt plugs in their asses, and as the 
fucking continued into the night, the force of the men's thrusting made the 
girls fart, with loud slurpy sounds as the gas was forced out of their 
rectums past the butt plugs. The men forced the plugs deeper into the girls' 
asses while they raped them, and when the girl's sphincter tried to expel 
the plug, the chain around her waist only let it move an inch or so out of 
her anus -- and then her rapist shoved it in again. So the girls were really 
getting reamed in both holes at once. They all needed to take a shit, and 
they felt bloated from all the feces and gas building up in their bowels, 
plus all the sperm filling their cunts -- but the men didn't stop screwing 
them until nearly midnight.


CHAPTER 23: A Crowning Achievement

When the men finally told Helen they were done, she barely heard them. She 
had been raped more than 40 times in nine hours, but not all her fuckers 
dumped their loads in her -- some of the men liked to give each girl a few 
strokes, then move to the next girl and the next, until finally one of the 
girls was lucky enough to receive his sperm when he was ready to cum. Dara 
and Laurel had each been raped more than 60 times, because they were so much 
younger and prettier than their mother. All of them had been raped with 
flashlights and bottles and whatever else the men could find, including the 
suction tube on Helen's vacuum cleaner -- the men had found it in the hall 
closet, and forced the two-inch-wide metal intake tube up her snatch and 
turned on the machine. Helen had shrieked as the strong suction cleaned the 
sperm and other bodily fluids out of her vagina -- the force of the machine 
made it extremely painful to have it inside her. When they finished with 
her, the men used the machine on Dara and Laurel, leaving both girls in 
agony after forcing the tube as far into their cunts as possible.

Through all the pain, Helen had talked to her daughters, murmuring quietly 
to them while the men grunted and sweated behind them, talking about the 
goals she wanted to attain, and encouraging her girls to keep striving to 
make their way through the pain and suffering in order to achieve the golden 
prize -- the discovery that they were able to love the men who were 
inflicting the pain and degradation upon them. The Sufi poetry kept running 
through Helen's mind as she was raped again and again, and she recited 
portions of it to Dara and Laurel, turning her head so she could whisper 
into each girl's ear as all of them jerked with the thrusts of the cocks in 
their pussies. There were moments when Helen thought she would give up, 
feeling like she just didn't have the strength and compassion to love the 
same men who were doing their best to hurt her and her daughters. She 
thought of the scars on Dara's breasts, permanent marks that would be there 
for the rest of her daughter's life. She thought of the stings on Laurel's 
beautiful breasts, the pain and desperation the girl must have felt when the 
bees and wasps were crawling on her areolas and nipples, the hopelessness 
she must have felt when she received a wasp sting directly on her nipple -- 
what could be worse for a girl? Helen's own pain -- the degradation and 
worthlessness she felt when the men attached the clamps to her nipples, then 
laughed at her humiliation while they gang-raped her -- was something she 
could never forget, but she hoped in time she would be able to block out the 
pain and remember only the end of the journey: the soul-cleansing knowledge 
that she had the capacity to forgive her rapists, and even the capacity to 
love them, the same men who put her and her daughters through such a 
terrible day and night here in this place that she loved so much.

Helen knew that Dara and Laurel had gone through similar experiences while 
they were being raped. She could see the anger and frustration on their 
faces at the beginning of the meditation session, and she knew her daughters 
were finding it difficult to embrace the Sufi ideal of love coming growing 
out of pain. That was why Helen had recited the passages during the session 
-- to give her girls something to cling to, and to remind them that this was 
not what it might look like to a casual observer. What took place in the 
Dining Room that day and night had all the aspects of a gang rape -- three 
naked girls with 15 men, the demeaning tortures, the sheer physical pain of 
the high heels the girls had to wear, the degradation of bending over the 
cabinet with their breasts nailed to it while the men used them for mindless 
sex, raping them again and again without regard for anything except their 
own pleasure. Yes, it looked like a gang rape, and in may ways it was -- but 
something else was going on here, something not so apparent to an onlooker. 
Helen and her daughters had started a journey of the mind and the heart this 
day, accepting and welcoming the kind of pain only a girl can experience, 
willingly offering their bodies for the most perverted tortures and 
humiliations, acting like worthless prostitutes whose only value was in 
their tits and cunts and assholes and mouths -- and at the end of the 
journey, they had found the precious thing that so many people never find in 
a lifetime of looking: they had found love, and the capacity to love, and 
the ability to look past the pain and see the goal ahead, the crowning 
achievement they would carry with them the rest of their lives.


CHAPTER 24: The Aftermath

The men left early Monday morning, and when Helen came downstairs around 
noon, she found a thick envelope on top of the cutlery cabinet in the Dining 
Room. The men couldn't resist one last chance to treat her and her daughters 
like prostitutes, symbolically leaving their money on the dresser after they 
were finished fucking them. The amount was what Helen had quoted them -- 
with no tip added, just another humiliation for her and her girls. The night 
before, when they finished raping the girls, the men had gone up to their 
rooms, leaving Helen and her daughters with their breasts nailed to the 
cabinet. They had left the hammer within reach, but Helen had to use the 
claw part of the hammer to pull the nails out of her own breasts. She pulled 
the nails out a little at a time, mewling like an animal, trying not to hurt 
herself more. It took forever to get the nail out of her left breast, and 
then she had to do her other tit, sweating like a horse from the tension and 
strain. The pain was unbelievable, but Helen still had to get Dara's and 
Laurel's breasts loose from the nails. They were all bleeding when she 
finished, but they went to Helen's room and bandaged themselves as best they 
could.

Helen was so proud of Dara and Laurel! They had come through like 
professionals, using their bodies like they had been doing it all their 
lives. But she was worried about Dara's breasts -- the metal prongs and the 
fishhooks had done some permanent damage, but maybe it could be minimized 
with plastic surgery. Just before she went to bed, Laurel had told her 
mother that she had a lot of pain in her calves and ankles from standing so 
long in the 8-inch ballet heels, and it didn't seem to be getting any better 
after she finally took off the shoes. Her areolas and nipples had been torn 
by the heavy alligator clamps that had been used on her -- the sharp metal 
teeth had penetrated her flesh and caused some bleeding. Helen's own breasts 
had similar damage, because the same clamps had been used on her -- but her 
nipples were much longer and wider than Laurel's, and her right nipple had 
almost been torn off. All three girls were in a lot of pain, and Helen 
arranged for an appointment with her doctor.

The news from the doctor was not good. Part of Helen's right nipple had to 
be removed, and her left nipple had some deep indentations that were 
permanent, from the alligator clamps. There were holes above and below both 
areolas, from the large nails that had been driven through her breasts, and 
she would have permanent scars where the doctor had closed the wounds. 
Laurel's breasts were still badly swollen from all the bee and wasp stings 
she had received, and she would have permanent scars from the wounds where 
the nails in her tits, like her mother. Wearing the 8-inch ballet heels for 
so many hours had caused serious damage. Extremely high heels alter the 
center of balance by pushing out the girl's ass and breasts, and force her 
hips to sway from side to side to compensate. Laurel had suffered shin 
splints in both legs -- her anterior tibial muscles had torn away from the 
bone, and now caused intense pain when the muscles were used. And what was 
worse was that her calf muscles and Achilles tendons had become permanently 
shortened. Other tendons and connective tissues had been permanently 
disfigured, and her lower legs and feet had been reshaped -- and now she 
could wear ONLY high heels. She tried to walk in her bare feet, but the pain 
was just too severe. By standing for so long in the ballet heels while she 
was being raped, Laurel had condemned herself to wearing high heels for the 
rest of her life. She would never be able to go hiking or play tennis or do 
any of the things she loved, because she would have to wear shoes with heels 
at least five inches high. The tendons, ligaments, and other connective 
tissues in her lower body would be easily sprained, strained and injured if 
she tried to wear shoes with heels under five inches. Standing continuously 
for such a long period of time in her ballet heels had also caused deep vein 
thrombosis (DVT), a condition in which blood clots form in deep veins, 
mainly in the legs. Laurel would be at risk for a heart attack or stroke for 
the rest of her life, and would have to be monitored regularly. Wearing high 
heels all the time, she would have extreme sensitivity in the balls of her 
feet. This is known as metatarsalgia (ball-of-foot pain), a burning 
sensation that Laurel would have to live with every day.

But the worst news from the doctor was about Dara. Her breasts had holes 
above and below her areolas, like her mother and sister, and these would 
leave permanent scars -- but that wasn't the really bad news. Her breast 
tissue had been punctured by the metal prongs, causing larger scars that 
could not be corrected by plastic surgery -- but the fishhooks on the ends 
of the metal prongs had lacerated her breasts internally, causing massive 
bleeding into the fat deposits in her breasts. The clotted blood, if left in 
her body, would form scar tissue that would destroy the shape of her 
breasts, making them look lumpy and distorted and ugly -- and the risk of 
infection would be life-threatening. There was so much clotted blood in her 
breasts that removing it would leave very little breast tissue -- so the 
only viable solution was amputation.

It took Dara a minute before she realized what the doctor was saying -- he 
wanted her to consent to having her breasts cut off. Her mom and sister were 
with her, holding her hands, and suddenly she gripped their hands hard and 
started to cry quietly. Like every girl who reaches puberty and sees her 
breasts start to develop, Dara knew that men are fascinated with big 
breasts. They think big-titted women like Marilyn Monroe and Loni Anderson 
are sexier, more attractive and more feminine. Men believe that children of 
big-breasted women will have all the milk they could want -- and more. 
Although many changes occur in puberty, breast development is the most 
visible change -- and women with smaller breasts are more likely to be 
viewed as sexually immature. Dara had always loved how her breasts looked -- 
not too big, and sagging just a little. She hated breast implants that made 
some girls' breasts stick straight out -- even when they were lying down. 
Her slightly sagging breasts proved they were real, and she really liked 
that. As she started to date boys, she came to love having her breasts 
caressed and kissed, and she could cum just from a boy kissing her nipples 
-- she LOVED how sensitive they were. Now, here was the doctor telling her 
she was going to lose all that, lose a part of her body, lose one of the 
things that MADE her a woman and defined her sexually. She wouldn't feel 
like a real woman if she didn't have her breasts -- so how could she agree 
to let the doctor maim her?! What the men did at the meditation session was 
driven by their lust and sadism -- but what the doctor wanted to do to her 
was so much worse: coldly taking a scalpel and using it to slice off a big 
part of her femininity. She knew no man would want her if she didn't have 
breasts -- and that thought brought on a new flood of tears. The doctor had 
told her that breast implants were not an option for her, because she would 
lose her entire breast on each side -- there would be nothing to hold an 
implant. Oh, sure, she could wear prosthetic breasts under her clothes -- 
but she could never again open her blouse and reveal her beautiful breasts 
to a man, and watch his face light up as he looked at her. All that would be 
gone permanently -- and she had no choice at all, really. If she kept her 
breasts, she would die -- but if she lived, she would be an ugly, titless 
woman that no man would ever want to touch.


CHAPTER 25: A New Opportunity for Dara

Dara signed the consent form, but then the doctor took Helen aside and 
talked to her for a while. When Helen came back to talk to Dara, she had an 
odd look on her face. She told Dara and Laurel that the doctor had been 
taking care of her ever since she bought the inn and moved to Andover, and 
he knew what sort of activities went on there sometimes -- in other words, 
he knew Helen was a prostitute, and he checked her for venereal diseases and 
treated her vaginal infections and treated the cuts and bruises she got when 
her johns got rough with her. He had heard about a small group of men in 
Maryland that liked extreme sex parties, where girls got gang-raped and 
maimed. There had been rumors that the men had kidnapped some young girls -- 
and made snuff films showing the girls being raped and killed. The doctor 
had seen one film, but he told Helen he couldn't be sure if these men made 
it, or if they just bought it elsewhere -- but it showed some things he had 
never seen before. He said it opened with a scene showing a girl being 
grabbed on the street. The camera was inside a van, and the girl was grabbed 
on the sidewalk and thrown inside and the door slammed shut. She was gagged 
and stripped in the van, and when it stopped, it was in a warehouse with 
some bright lights set up on stands. The girl was shoved out of the van and 
fell to the floor, crying and trembling. A man stood her up and dragged her 
over to a wood platform and made her climb up on it. There were maybe 50 men 
in the warehouse watching and talking. The girl was very young, maybe 15 -- 
her breasts weren't fully developed and she had just a little patch of pubic 
hair. She was tiny, maybe five feet tall and 90 pounds, and very slim -- she 
looked more like a boy, around her waist and hips. The men put her on her 
hands and knees and one of them stood in front of her and held her shoulders 
in place while the rest of them started taking turns raping her. She was a 
virgin when they started -- her first rapist had to force his cock up her 
snatch, and the blood that ran out of her vagina proved it was her first 
time to have sex. She was crying and begging them not to hurt her, which 
just made them fuck her harder -- they seemed to be trying to hurt her with 
their cocks, thrusting into her tight little pussy savagely. The man in 
front of her took out his cock and forced it into her mouth, and there were 
some closeups of her face showing her eyes widening as she tried to take the 
big cock into her mouth. She gagged on it, coughing and getting very red in 
the face, but the man forced her mouth open and stuck it down her throat 
again, holding her by her ears while he gave her a few quick thrusts, then 
he ejaculated in her mouth. The girl reflexively swallowed the cum, gulping 
it down without realizing what it was or what she was doing -- and then she 
burst into tears as he pulled out of her mouth. He slapped her face as hard 
as he could, holding her shoulder so she didn't fall off the platform. The 
other men never stopped raping her -- as soon as one man dumped his load in 
her cunt, the next man took his place. All 50 men screwed her, which took 
about three hours, and occasionally one of them would come around in front 
of her and fuck her mouth. When they were done, the last rapist snaked a 
leather belt around the girl's neck from behind, then used it to lift her 
upper body until she was almost upright -- and that's when she realized she 
was being strangled. The camera had moved around in front of the girl, 
showing her face in startling detail as she started struggling. Her rapist 
never stopped screwing her pussy -- he just tightened the belt very slowly, 
occasionally loosening it a little and starting again, prolonging the girl's 
life and making her think she might survive. But then he tightened the belt 
so much that she couldn't breathe, and the camera moved even closer to her 
red face as she started to die. Her eyes were huge, darting back and forth 
ferociously, seeing the men watching her, imploring them to help her -- but 
then her mouth came open and her tongue came out and started to swell up.

It took several minutes for the girl to die, and just before she did, one of 
the men humiliated her for the last time -- he stepped in front of her as 
the camera pulled back a little, showing that his cock was fully erect and 
he was masturbating. The girl's eyes were starting to glaze over, but she 
focused on the head of his cock, and the last thing she saw was his 
ejaculation. He flooded her face with warm sperm, getting some big globs in 
her eyes and sending some of it up her nose, then forced his cock into her 
mouth and finished cumming on her throat. The girl actually tried to swallow 
the sperm involuntarily -- her throat rippled unmistakably -- but the belt 
was so tight, she couldn't swallow, or breathe. She died with her mouth full 
of warm semen, and her rapist grunted like an animal and ejaculated in her 
vagina a few moments after she died. The girl's body was dragged halfway off 
the platform, so her feet were on the floor -- and the men started fucking 
her in the ass. Her bowels had voided when she died -- and the men used her 
shit for lubrication, raping her body more than 50 times. When they were 
finally done with her, they packed her vagina full of gravel and stuck a 
beer bottle up her ass, then dumped her in an alley, leaving her naked body 
bent over a garbage can so it looked like she was waiting to be fucked.

The doctor said these men might be interested in having a party with Dara -- 
and filming her while they cut off her breasts. He told Helen that in any 
case, Dara had to reconcile herself to losing her breasts because the damage 
was just too severe to be treated -- and she would die from an infection if 
the amputation did not take place. The doctor knew Helen needed money to 
keep her inn running, and this would be an easy way to get some cash out of 
a bad situation. He said the men had lots of money available, and he (the 
doctor) would be willing to be there to be sure the actual amputation was 
performed in as sterile a way as possible, to avoid collateral damage to 
Dara.

Helen sat down to talk to her daughters, but she started crying -- and it 
was Dara who took her hand and told her she had to be strong. Helen had 
never been so proud of her older daughter as she was at that moment -- Dara 
was about to lose such a large part of what made her a woman, and yet she 
was comforting her mother about it. Helen explained what the doctor had told 
her, and told Dara it was entirely her decision. Dara didn't hesitate -- she 
said she was willing to do it, if it would help with the finances at the 
inn. Helen hugged her tight, and Laurel hugged them both while they all had 
a good long cry.


CHAPTER 26: Dara's Next Step

Helen got the information from the doctor and contacted the men he had 
mentioned, and they jumped at the idea. They said they would pay $10,000 for 
one day and night with Dara -- but they wanted Helen and Laurel there, too. 
Helen didn't know how they had found out she had another daughter, but she 
suspected the doctor had told them, to get a little kickback from their fee.

The session was arranged for a week later, and Helen spent the week with her 
daughters, trying to keep Dara's mind off the awful thing that was going to 
happen to her. They meditated together, emphasizing the importance of the 
mind over the body, and dwelling a lot on spiritual comfort and acceptance. 
By the day of the session, Dara had come to accept what had to be done, and 
Helen drove her and Laurel about 20 miles to the place where they were to 
meet the men. It turned out to be an old warehouse -- and when they went 
inside, Helen realized it was the same warehouse where the other film was 
made. The doctor had described the scene in the movie he was shown, and 
Helen knew this was the same place. A little shiver of horror went up her 
back as she and her daughters walked over to the group of men at one end of 
the large room. She noticed some dark stains on the concrete floor -- could 
they be blood? There were a lot of other stains there, too, that might have 
been dried sperm or vaginal secretions. Helen wondered how many girls had 
been brought here, and what had been done to them... and she shivered.

The men were staring at Dara, and at Helen and Laurel, too. They wanted to 
see Dara's breasts, so Helen asked her to take off her blouse. She wasn't 
wearing a bra, and the men were silent as they stared at Dara's slightly 
drooping tits. The scars from the meditation session showed up clearly in 
the bright light as Dara stood there self-consciously with her arms at her 
sides. She wanted to cross her arms and cover herself. There was something 
about these men, the way they looked at her, that made her feel dirty, like 
she had roach droppings on her skin. Some of the men were licking their lips 
as they stared at her, and she could hear the moist sounds they made, and 
she closed her eyes, wishing she could close her ears, too. One of the men 
turned to Helen and said, "We want to fuck her before we cut her -- got a 
problem with that?" Helen had told Dara she would probably have to service 
the men, and she motioned for her daughter to take off her skirt and shoes. 
Dara wasn't wearing a thong, and she was naked as she walked over to a wood 
stand. It had crossbraces and straps all over it, and Helen couldn't figure 
out how Dara was supposed to get on it, or get into it. The men showed her 
how to mount it, inserting her knees into two openings about 18 inches 
apart, forcing her legs open and exposing her pussy and asshole. Her lower 
legs and feet had no support, just sticking out behind her, and her thighs 
were strapped in so she couldn't close her legs. She had to lean forward and 
push her breasts through two holes in a large flat piece of plywood, and her 
arms were strapped to the plywood so she couldn't protect herself at all. 
Her head extended over the top of the plywood, so she could look down and 
see her breasts sticking through the holes in the wood. A strap went around 
her neck, holding her firmly against the wood.

The holes for her breasts were small, only two inches wide, and she had to 
squeeze her tits to force her flesh through. The plywood was rough and 
unfinished, and the two holes had splinters all around the edges. Dara tried 
to be careful as she pushed her soft tits through the openings, but she 
still got a lot of splinters in her boobs, wincing as she worked her breasts 
through the holes. The men were laughing at her -- they enjoyed seeing girls 
get hurt like this. When she finished, her boobs were squeezed tightly at 
the base, and the big globes of her tits looked like overinflated balloons 
hanging out of the holes. The blood flow was trapped in her breasts by the 
tightness of the holes, and both boobs were starting to turn a deep 
purplish-red. Her areolas were puffed up and her nipples were stiffly erect, 
sticking out lewdly, as big as the top joint on her thumb. One of the men 
brushed his fingers over Dara's nipples, very lightly -- but her flesh was 
squeezed so tight, she was extremely sensitive, and it was like he touched 
her with a cattle prod. She squealed and her whole body jerked, making her 
jugs bounce wildly. Her nipples stiffened even more, throbbing heavily as 
the blood pooled inside them, and she had a massive orgasm, gasping and 
mewling as she closed her eyes tight and surrendered to the feeling. The man 
took her nipples in his fingers and rolled them gently, and Dara's mouth 
opened in an "O" as she started to have more orgasms, so fast she could 
barely breathe. She was moaning, feeling like the lowest whore in the world 
as she responded to this man fondling her, but she couldn't resist the 
heavenly feeling, the little electric shocks in her breasts that seemed to 
shoot through her body. She could feel her clitoris throbbing between her 
legs, and she knew her pussy was leaking -- she could smell her own cunt, 
that salty, spicy, musky smell that says a girl's vagina is all creamy and 
sloppy and ready to be penetrated. She realized that's exactly what she 
wanted -- what she NEEDED -- a nice big cock shoved up her snatch. She 
looked at the men, sweat rolling off her face as her nipples exploded again, 
and she begged them to screw her. She struggled against the straps holding 
her in place, wanting to be penetrated, desperately needing something long 
and HARD inside her wet pussy. And then Dara got her wish. Her eyes snapped 
wide open and she stiffened as she felt the head of a cock against her slit. 
She moaned like a bitch in heat, begging for it, trying to spread her legs 
even wider, opening her body like a flower. Her fucker shoved his 14-inch 
cock into her pussy with one savage stroke, and Dara screamed -- partly from 
the stabbing pain between her legs, but also from the heavenly feeling of 
being FILLED.


CHAPTER 27: Dara's Revelation

Dara suddenly realized that all she was, without a man to fuck her, was an 
empty hole. It was startling how clear it was now -- she was nothing at all, 
she had no value of any kind, except when her cunt was filled with a man's 
hard cock. Any other time, she was just a stupid little whore with an empty, 
useless hole between her legs. Her fuckhole defined her completely. She had 
a bachelor's degree from a respected university -- but the most important 
thing in her life was the hard cock filling her pussy. She had always been a 
strong supporter of women's rights at college, and even before that, while 
she was in high school, she had done all she could to support the rights of 
women to do and say what they felt, and to do with their bodies as they saw 
fit. She had been so proud when she graduated from college, with her mom and 
her sister there. It was the best day of her life -- but now all that seemed 
to fade into the background as Dara realized the truth about herself: she 
had wasted her whole life up to this point, going after things that didn't 
really matter. What mattered was the HOLE between her legs, the empty hole 
that branded her as a girl -- a worthless, stupid whore, like all girls. 
Having that useless, ugly slit between her legs meant she had only one way 
to gain self-esteem: to offer her wet, smelly hole to any man that wanted to 
use it, to help him get an erection so he could stick his beautiful big cock 
up her snatch, and to accept his fluids gratefully when he was finished 
screwing her and needed to use her body as a sperm receptacle.

Dara was startled by the crystal clarity of her sudden understanding of who 
and what she was, and for a moment she marveled at how wrong she had been 
all her life. All those years listening to her mom's words about her role as 
a girl, and later as a woman, learning about the unfair and degrading things 
that had been done to women by men throughout history, being encouraged to 
try to find her own voice as a strong and educated woman who could really do 
some good in the world -- all that just fell away like trash, leaving Dara 
with just one thing that she knew was true above all else. Now she knew what 
she was and who she was and what she needed to do -- but it wasn't anything 
like what her mom had tried to teach her. Her mom's years of trying to shape 
her character and spirit by providing an example of what a woman needs to be 
in this world -- all that just went down the toilet in Dara's mind, swirling 
around like some turds in the toilet after she took a shit, and vanishing 
into the sewer along with all the other crap that had filled her mind. What 
Dara was left with was one clear, hard, tangible fact -- she was nothing but 
a worthless, stupid, ugly little slut, and the only possible life for her 
now was as a prostitute. She knew she could never be happy with any job 
where she had to get up and get dressed and go to an office every day, and 
sit there and do paperwork or whatever -- she knew now that sort of life 
would drive her crazy. She knew the life she wanted -- laying naked on her 
back with her legs open and a man's cock in her worthless cunt while he 
screwed her as long as he could. And when he was done with her, another man 
would be right there to take his place, to force her legs apart and ram his 
dick up her snatch and fuck her and dump his load inside her.

She closed her eyes and moaned softly as her fucker reamed out her vagina 
with his wonderful large cock. Her hands were tightly curled over the top of 
the board, and she gripped it as hard as she could, holding on as her fucker 
gave her a good screwing. Then, as if to remind her that she had more than 
just her pussy to offer to men, one of them touched her breasts, and Dara's 
eyes opened wide as she looked down at the swollen globes of her boobs 
protruding through the holes in the wood. The holes were so small, her tits 
were squeezed like balloons, and they looked like soccer balls hanging off 
the wood. Dara felt a rush, an electric thrill at having such big breasts -- 
she had always wanted to be bigger, but she never had the nerve to talk to 
her mom about breast implants. Before this, in her former life, she would've 
said breast augmentation was wrong, demeaning and degrading for a woman -- 
but now there was nothing Dara wanted more than HUGE tits! She wanted 
breasts so big that men would stare at her when she walked by, her tits 
bouncing and jiggling with every step. She realized there was one other job 
she would be able to do if she had big tits -- she could be a stripper.

Dara closed her eyes and pictured herself standing on a stage surrounded by 
men while she took her clothes off. They kept yelling for her to strip, and 
when she took off her bra, they went wild -- her boobs were just so big, 
like basketballs hanging off her chest. Then she took off her g-string and 
showed the men her pussy, and danced naked for them, wiggling her hips and 
shaking her big jugs and smiling like a whore. She let the men touch her, 
squatting at the edge of the stage so they could pinch her nipples, 
spreading her pussy lips so they could stick their fingers in her vagina. 
She came down off the stage and started giving free lap dances to the men, 
rubbing her naked body against them, trying to get them to cum in their 
pants, leaving glistening strings of pussy slime on their pants when she 
rubbed her groin against their cocks. When she finished making each man cum, 
she carefully licked all her vaginal secretions off his clothes, then moved 
to the next man. At the end of her shift, she went out to the parking lot 
with eight of the men and bent over the hood of a car and let them fuck her, 
one after the other, until she could barely stand up.

Dara opened her eyes, coming back to reality after her dream about being a 
stripper, and realized her fucker was ready to cum. He gave her a huge 
thrust that made her squeal, then he ejaculated inside her while she moaned 
with satisfaction. When he pulled out of her pussy, the next man in line 
stuck his cock in her cunt and started screwing her, while the first man 
stepped around in front of Dara. He picked up a knife and held the point 
against her left breast, then cut her just a little, on the underside of her 
tit. He told her each man was going to cut her after he finished cumming in 
her twat. Dara hardly felt the cut, she was so high from the huge load of 
sperm he had left in her vagina. She smiled dreamily at him as she closed 
her eyes and enjoyed the cock in her pussy. A little blood ran out of the 
cut and trickled down Dara's breast toward her stomach.


CHAPTER 28: A Bitch in Heat

The men had set up four cameras to film what was happening to Dara -- one 
behind her, showing the men fucking her; one focused on her buttocks and 
legs, with a closeup of the cock pounding into her pussy; one in front of 
her, showing her head above the piece of wood and her tits hanging out 
through the holes; and one on her face, showing a full-screen closeup as she 
smiled and whimpered and had orgasms while the men took turns fucking her. 
The shots from all four cameras would be edited into one film showing the 
entire session, beginning with the gang-bang and ending with Dara having her 
breasts cut off, and the film would be booked into more than 800 
pornographic theatres across the country. It would also be sold to peep 
shows, where a man could go into a private booth and get an erection 
watching Dara being screwed, then let some slut in the next booth suck him 
off through a glory hole while he watched Dara's tits being cut off. 
Thousands of tapes would be made and sold in porn shops and on the internet, 
and the profits would be in the millions of dollars -- but all Dara would 
have to show for it would a pussy full of sperm and a flat chest where her 
breasts used to be.

Dara had serviced five men when she realized something strange was happening 
to her. The men were all screwing her as hard as they could, really ramming 
their cocks into her pussy -- and at first it hurt a lot, but by the time 
the sixth man penetrated her, his thrusting actually felt good, and Dara 
felt her nipples stiffen as she had an orgasm. Her clit felt like it was on 
fire, and her fucker reached around and used two fingers to stroke the top 
of her slit, rolling her erect clitoris between his fingers. Dara moaned 
loudly as a string of orgasms hit her, but even while she was cumming, she 
knew this should hurt. Her clit had always been very sensitive, and when her 
boyfriend touched it directly, it always hurt. She had to show him how to 
rub the hood gently, and not touch her clit directly. But now her fucker was 
rubbing her clit with his fingers while he screwed her -- and she was LOVING 
it! She felt confused, but she didn't spend much time thinking about it as 
the orgasms swept through her body.

What was happening to Dara was the same sustained pain that pushes a 
masochist to the point that endorphins flush through the body and convert 
pain into pleasure, called "masochist's ecstasy." The nucleus accumbens, 
associated with the brain's reward system, is a big player in orgasm, and 
Dara's blood was carrying endorphins directly to that part of her brain. 
There was also heightened activity in her anterior cingulate cortex, which 
is linked to pleasure, pain, and craving; and in the amygdala and the 
hypothalamus, areas that process emotion. Orgasm is incredibly good for the 
brain, and Dara's entire brain was being oxygenated as her body jerked with 
orgasms.

When a girl gets gang-raped, which is what was happening to Dara, it causes 
excruciating pain, both physical and mental. She knows the hard physical 
strain is ruinous for her body, and the sustained and repeated friction 
caused by one cock after another being forced up her snatch is causing 
extreme tenderness and small hemorrhages in the walls of her vagina. But her 
body offers a reward -- brain chemicals -- for this exertion. These 
chemicals, called endorphins or beta-endorphins, are narcotic-like pain 
killers that circulate in the bloodstream. These natural opiates are 
released by hard physical effort, and Dara was sweating as she strained to 
stand up to the heavy demands her fuckers made on her body as they tried to 
get deeper inside her, hurting her more with each thrust of their cocks. 
Some researchers speculate that this chemical release explains the euphoria 
that joggers call "runner's high." The cramping pains of long hours of sex 
with a large number of men release endorphins, and the grimacing and 
grunting girls do while they get raped release endorphins as well. All this 
strenuous sexual activity was causing Dara to perceive pain as pleasure, and 
things that would ordinarily hurt her actually felt good. Even so, it took a 
little time for her to stop fighting logic and accept the situation. One 
part of her mind kept telling her that the cocks slamming deep into her cunt 
should hurt -- she was getting raped, for God's sake! -- but another part of 
her brain, high on endorphins, was telling her it felt good, flooding her 
pleasure centers with enough drugs to quiet whatever reluctance she still 
felt.

The cumulative effect of all this was to change Dara from a pretty young 
girl to a bitch in heat -- her eyes were wide and glazed, and she kept 
begging her fuckers for more. She needed their semen like a starving child 
needs food or water -- lots of it, and fast. Every time one of her rapists 
ejaculated in her tight little vagina, Dara had a string of orgasms that 
seemed to go on forever, every spurt of the hot cream inside her triggering 
another massive spasm that left her trembling and weak. Each time one of her 
fuckers came around in front of her and cut her breast, it made Dara's 
nipples stiffen like rocks, and they were sticking out like erect cocks, so 
long and so hard that they hurt. Every time a man's fingers grazed her 
nipples, her body jerked with another orgasm, leaving her gasping for 
breath. Her face was flushed a deep red and she was sweating like a pig, 
moaning and rolling her head from side to side, drooling as her mouth hung 
open.


CHAPTER 29: Dara Loses Her Breasts

Dara had about ten cuts on each of her breasts now, most of them not very 
long or deep, and none of them were bleeding much. Then one of her rapists 
decided to cut her left nipple. The held her breast in one hand while he 
positioned the knife against the tip of the nipple, with the blade facing 
Dara, and sliced down to the base of the nipple. Blood ran down the 
underside of the breast, but Dara was so high on the endorphins in her 
bloodstream, she didn't feel the pain of the cut -- she perceived it as 
pleasure, as if the man was sucking on her erect nipple. The stupid slut 
actually smiled as her tit was disfigured, closing her eyes dreamily and 
moaning softly. After the next man finished raping her, he came around in 
front of her and cut her right nipple the same way, but he cut a little 
deeper, slicing into Dara's areola. The next two men cut the outside of the 
girl's tits, and the next three men sliced along the top of her breasts. 
There wasn't much left of her tits at this point, but she still had breasts. 
Dara had been raped 25 times, and there were 30 more men waiting for a piece 
of her. The gang rape continued for another three hours, with the girl's 
shredded breasts hanging out through the holes in the wood. When all the men 
had finished with her, it was finally time to cut off her tits -- but they 
decided to remove her nipples before they took her breasts.

Both of Dara's nipples had been split, and now a man cut off both halves of 
her left nipple, lifting the breast by the nipple and slicing through the 
areola. He put the two pieces of flesh in Dara's left hand, and she stared 
at him vacantly, still drugged by the flood of endorphins in her 
bloodstream. Another man sliced off Dara's right nipple and slipped the 
pieces into her right hand and told her to hold onto them. Another man took 
a meat cleaver with a ten-inch blade and held it against the piece of wood, 
just above Dara's left breast, and slid it down the wood -- and the meaty 
part of the tit was sliced away cleanly, falling to the floor and 
splattering wetly as it hit. Her right breast was amputated the same way, 
and some ointment was applied to her chest to cauterize the wounds and stop 
most of the bleeding. The girl was unstrapped from the wood stand, and she 
stood up slowly, her legs trembling from the strain of so many hours of 
getting raped. She looked down at her chest, then raised her head and stared 
at the men vacantly. She raised her hands to her chest, as if to cup her 
breasts,, but there was nothing there, and she held her hands against her 
flat chest as she started to cry. The truth was slowly dawning in her addled 
brain, and as she realized what had been done to her, her crying turned into 
sobbing.

Helen and Laurel were holding Dara and trying to comfort her -- and none of 
them noticed the men moving closer to them until they were quite close. Dara 
cringed when one of them grinned and reached out to touch her disfigured 
chest, and Helen and Laurel both slapped his hand away. The men clustered 
around each girl, separating them and grabbing them so they couldn't get 
away. One of the men told Helen, "Don't panic, bitch -- we just want to have 
a little more fun before we let you whores go." He stood behind Dara and 
held her naked body against him as he put his arms around her, his palms on 
her chest where her breasts had been. He whispered in her ear, "You're a 
titless slut now, aren't you?" Dara dropped her arms to her sides and 
started crying as the man rubbed her flat chest, caressing the raw bloody 
tissue that was all that was left of her boobs. He ran his fingers around 
the raw edge of the circular cuts where her tits had been sliced off. Within 
the circles was nothing but a mass of red, raw tissue with a coating of 
ointment to minimize the bleeding. Still holding Dara, the man looked at 
Helen and Laurel. "You girls don't want this little angel to suffer all 
alone, do you?" Just as the thought of trouble was forming in Helen's mind, 
two men grabbed her and Laurel from behind, holding their arms so they were 
helpless.


CHAPTER 30: Helen Gets Disfigured

The other men went into a frenzy, tearing the clothes off Helen and Laurel 
in moments, leaving them completely naked like Dara. The man holding Dara 
said, "We need a little more footage for the film -- but don't worry, we're 
not going to take your breasts." Helen breathed a sigh of relief, but then 
the man continued, "... we just want to cut off your nipples." Laurel burst 
into tears, struggling wildly and wailing as her captor held her so tight 
she couldn't move. She looked down at her beautiful breasts, with some 
scarring from the session at the inn, but still nicely shaped -- and she 
couldn't stop crying as she looked at her nipples, stiff and pink and 
sticking out so much. Helen was going out of her mind -- she had gotten her 
daughters into this, starting with the sessions at the inn, but she never 
wanted her girls to get hurt. She had to do something to protect them -- but 
how could she? The man holding her had her arms pinned behind her, and all 
her struggling was wasted. She could feel his cock getting hard between her 
ass cheeks, and the more she struggled, the more his erection grew. She 
looked at Laurel's face, and saw her look of surprise, and knew that she was 
feeling the same thing -- a hard cock in her ass crack.

Suddenly Helen's captor bent her forward at the waist and forced her legs 
apart, and she felt the head of his cock against her anus. Her face was a 
mask of fear and disgust as he started to penetrate her. A sound from Laurel 
made Helen look up in time to see her daughter's eyes widen and her mouth 
fall open in an "O" of pain as her captor did the same thing to her. Helen 
was begging the men to just do it to her, to leave Laurel alone, but then 
Laurel screamed as her rectum was suddenly filled with cock meat. Helen 
gasped as her fucker forced his big cock inside her, and she got that 
bloated feeling she always had when she was being ass-fucked. Laurel's 
fucker was holding her upper body almost upright, not letting her bend 
forward to accommodate his penis, because he knew it would hurt more to fuck 
her this way, and Laurel was mewling in pain as he started thrusting into 
her bowels. Helen and Laurel were facing each other, their faces only a few 
inches apart as they both serviced their fuckers with their hot little 
assholes. But the fucking didn't go on for very long before the men got back 
to their real purpose -- to disfigure their breasts.

Helen's fucker spoke to Laurel. "Hey, kid, which one of your mother's 
nipples should we take?" Laurel burst into tears, lowering her head and 
groaning low in her throat, softly muttering "no no no..." -- but her fucker 
jerked her head up so she had to look at her mom, and she saw the man take 
her mom's left nipple in his fingers and pull on it. "Should I take this 
one?" He let go of her left nipple and gripped her right one in his fingers. 
"Or maybe this one would be better? You think your slutty mother would miss 
this ugly little nipple?" Laurel was sobbing now, her hands balled into 
fists at her sides, helpless to do anything to stop these men. Helen winced 
as the man squeezed her right nipple very hard. He yelled at Laurel. 
"Choose, you stupid little bitch, or we'll take them both!" He had a knife 
in his other hand, almost touching the nipple, and Laurel screamed, "The 
left one! God, oh god..." She glared at the man with frustration and horror 
as he took her mother's left nipple in his fingers and pulled it out from 
her breast and sliced it off at the base. Helen screamed in pain, and her 
whole body went rigid. Laurel was sobbing, and Dara was watching with her 
mouth hanging open, not believing what she was seeing. She still couldn't 
believe her own breasts were gone, and now her mom had lost a nipple. Dara 
could barely see through the tears flooding her eyes -- but then she heard 
her mom mewling, and opened her eyes wide, and saw the man had Helen's other 
nipple in his fingers. Dara screamed at him to leave her mom alone, and 
Laurel was screaming at him as she struggled to get loose -- but the girls 
had no choice but to watch in horror as the man pulled Helen's right nipple 
out from her breast. He bounced her tit a little, toying with her -- and 
then he sliced almost all the way through her areola and released her 
nipple, leaving just a tiny strip of flesh holding the nipple to her breast. 
Helen looked down at her mutilated boobs, whimpering as she looked at her 
own nipple hanging loosely, dangling off her breast as she tried not to 
breathe, like it would somehow be all right if she stood very still. But 
then the man took her nipple in his fingers and jerked it loose, tearing the 
rest of her areola away at the same time.

The men let go of Helen and she dropped to her knees, crying quietly, her 
arms hanging at her sides, her head lowered in shame. The men had taken away 
a large part of her femininity, and now she would never be beautiful again. 
No man would ever want to touch her breasts or have sex with her, and as she 
thought about how she looked now, she couldn't stop crying. She looked up at 
her daughters, and saw they were both sobbing along with her -- but then the 
men holding Laurel brought her over in front of her mother, and Helen stared 
up at them nervously. One of them reached out and pinched Laurel's erect 
nipples, making her yelp from the sudden intense pain, and Helen thought 
they just wanted her to watch them hurting her. When they had stripped 
Laurel, they removed her high heels, and because of the damage done to her 
muscles and tendons while she was standing for hours in her ballet heels at 
the meditation session, she was in extreme pain standing there in her bare 
feet. The strain showed on her face, and Helen could only hope the men would 
let her sit down, or let her put her high heels on again. She could see 
Laurel standing on her tiptoes, trying to ease the intense pain in her 
ankles and calves, and she kept asking the men to let Laurel wear her high 
heels. Finally one of the men kicked Laurel's shoes over near her, and she 
was able to get the 5-inch heels back on.

But then one of the men took out a knife, and Helen's heart sank like a 
rock. God, were they going to cut Laurel's breasts, too? Was there no end to 
this horror?! But the man just poked Laurel's breasts a few times, causing 
little pinpricks that bled a little -- he was trying to scare her, and he 
was succeeding. Laurel's face was frozen into a mask of terror. After seeing 
her sister lose her breasts, and then watching her mom's nipples being cut 
off, Laurel was petrified at the thought of having more damage done to her 
own breasts. Like all girls, she thought of her breasts as a defining 
feature of her femininity, and the thought of losing them stabbed directly 
into the heart of what it meant to be a girl.


CHAPTER 31: Laurel's Self-Image Is Destroyed

It's an exciting time for a girl when her breasts start growing -- and often 
an anxious time, with lots of worries. Often she's embarrassed to talk about 
her concerns: how big will they get, will they look good, and is anything 
wrong with me? The development of tender breast "buds" is usually the first 
sign of puberty in girls. Some girls notice breast growth as early as age 7 
or 8, while others don't start until age 13 or so. The timing is determined 
by her own biologic "clock" that tells her body to start producing high 
levels of female hormones. Laurel's breasts had budded when she was 8, and 
she had been thrilled when she first noticed her little titties, looking at 
herself in the mirror. But as she got a little older and her breasts started 
to grow, she noticed that they itched a lot and she got some red stretch 
marks. Hormones had caused her breasts to grow, and the new tissue was very 
tender at first. Because the skin was stretching, it also itched. The pain 
and itching lasted only a few months, and then it was time for Laurel to get 
her first bra, which protected the tender new breast growth and helped 
minimize her pain. Any time the skin expands rapidly, the delicate 
underlying tissue can tear, causing thin scars (stretch marks) to form. The 
marks are pink or reddish at first, but they fade and become pale or skin 
colored in about a year or so, and by the time Laurel was 13, all her 
problems with her breasts had cleared up.

Breasts go through five stages of growth over a period of five to six years, 
until their full maturity is reached by age 17 or 18. The final size of a 
girl's breasts is determined by heredity and can range from very small (like 
bra size AA) to very full (such as size EE). Breast size varies greatly 
among women, and all sizes and shapes are normal and healthy. Laurel's 
breasts were size 34B, and they were smaller than she would like -- she was 
5 feet 7, and her tits looked so small when she posed in front of a mirror. 
She had read a lot, and she knew that her breasts were made up of milk 
glands and ducts, connective tissue and fat. In teenagers and young women 
the breast tissue is firm and dense, and then becomes softer and more fatty 
with age. There is no muscle tissue in the breast, which is why there are no 
exercises to make them bigger. However, the pectoral muscles that lie 
underneath the breasts can be firmed up to provide lift and shape. Since the 
breasts do contain lots of fat cells, the bra size increases with weight 
gain, and Laurel had noticed that when she gained some weight in high school 
because she felt insecure with her self-image. She had done some exercises 
at the same time, to firm up her pectoral muscles, and she had LOVED how 
much bigger her titties looked -- she had gone from 34A to 34D, and her big 
tits looked like balloons. But when she started college, she wanted to look 
very slim, and she had lost 25 pounds, going from 130 to 105 pounds, and now 
she looked nice and slim. But her tits had dropped from a D cup to a B, 
which she hated.

Nature designed a woman's breast to produce milk for her baby. In our 
society however, breasts are often viewed as a symbol of femininity and 
sexual attractiveness, so it is normal for a girl to have issues with her 
self-image. Laurel had gone through some rough times in college -- some of 
the guys she dated had told her that her breasts were too small -- but she 
had finally worked through her issues and decided she liked her body as it 
was. Her 34B breasts seemed just right to her now -- a bit small for her 
height, but that was better than having huge boobs that jiggled when she 
walked. She was finally happy with her breasts -- and now these men were 
threatening to cut her titties, and there was nothing that could scare her 
more.

But then the man put down the knife, and Laurel breathed a little easier -- 
until he picked up a long, thin metal tube connected to a hose. With a 
shiver of fear, Laurel realized what the tube was -- a liposuction device. 
She had seen one in a doctor's office once, and she knew it consisted of a 
thin, flexible metal rod called a cannula, which a cosmetic surgeon uses to 
target the fat to be removed from a person's body; and a suction device that 
draws the excess fat out of the body through a rubber tube that empties into 
a large jar. Suddenly Laurel suspected what the men wanted to do to her -- 
and her face twisted into a mask of fear and loathing. The man holding the 
liposuction device moved the tip of the cannula over in front of her -- and 
ran it along the undersides of her breasts, and Laurel cringed as he spoke. 
"You don't really want to keep these pretty tits after your mother and your 
sister got all mutilated, do you, angel? You want to look like them, right?" 
Laurel felt hot tears of anger and frustration streaming down her cheeks, 
and she felt her face flushing a deep red from the shame and embarrassment 
of what they wanted to do to her. There was nothing worse than losing her 
breasts -- even if she got raped, she could recover, and nobody had to know. 
But if these men ruined her breasts, every man who saw her would know, and 
they would think she was ugly. Laurel was sorry for Dara and her mom, for 
the awful things had been done to them -- but why should she have to get 
mutilated too? WHY?!

The man brought the tip of the cannula up under Laurel's left breast, 
touching the small scar she got when her breasts were nailed to the cabinet 
at the inn. She struggled to get away, but the man behind her was holding 
her arms too tight -- she couldn't move. The man worked the tip of the 
cannula into the soft flesh of her breast, and the metal tip broke through 
the thin mesh of new skin that had begun to grow over her scar. Laurel 
shivered with revulsion as she felt the metal tube moving inside her breast 
-- and then she screamed when the man flipped  a switch and the device 
started applying suction to her breast. She watched in horror as little 
globs of whitish tissue flowed through the clear plastic tube into the 
collection jar. She looked down at her chest -- and her lips twisted in 
disgust when she saw the flesh of her breast moving as the cannula poked 
against it from inside. The cannula was spraying some saline solution into 
her breast to knock the fat tissue loose, and she could see her breast 
shrinking in on itself as more of the tissue was suctioned out. Laurel tried 
one more time to get loose from her captor, but he had both of her arms 
clamped behind her back. This forced her breasts to stick out in front, an 
easy target for the man holding the cannula.

Liposuction is a medical procedure that can involve serious risks, including 
heavy bleeding, prolonged swelling, and brown spots on the skin 
(hyperpigmentation). The risks of liposuction are greatly increased by the 
removal of too much fat, inadequate monitoring after removal of a large 
volume of fat (greater than 10 pounds), injection of overly large amounts of 
fluid, multiple surgical procedures performed in the same surgical session. 
Complications of liposuction can include infection, permanent nerve damage, 
blood clots (particularly in women taking birth control pills, which Laurel 
did), skin tissue death (necrosis), skin burns, fluid in the breast tissue 
after injection of a salt water solution that is two to three times the 
amount of fat removed, and shock. Liposuction is not generally used on a 
girl's breasts because it causes them to hurt, feel very tender, and itch. 
But for the men watching Laurel, these were plus factors -- they wanted it 
to hurt her a lot. The man increased the flow rate on the saline solution 
being pumped into Laurel's breast -- and she stared in horror as her breast 
started to get bigger, like a balloon being filled with water. Her tit 
started to sag from the extra weight, but then the suction device removed 
the excess water along with a lot of fat tissue -- and her breast shrank 
before her eyes, the flesh shriveling up as more fatty tissue was suctioned 
out. Her left breast was already much smaller than her right one, and 
getting smaller all the time the cannula was inside her. The man was moving 
it around roughly inside her boob, knocking loose more and more breast 
tissue so it could be sucked out through the clear tube into the collection 
jar, which now had quite a bit of tissue and fluid in it.

It took about 20 minutes to suction most of the tissue out of Laurel's left 
breast, and when the man was done, he pulled the cannula out of the hole in 
her tit and all the other men stared at Laurel like she was a piece of shit. 
Her breast looked like a large raisin -- all wrinkled and crumpled, an empty 
deflated balloon hanging off her chest. The flesh was covered with brown 
spots and some blood was trickling out through the hole in the underside of 
the breast. The man wasted no time moving the tip of the cannula to Laurel's 
right breast and forcing it through the hole into the fatty tissue, and then 
he started the suction pump and started to remove the breast tissue. Laurel 
could do nothing except stare at her chest while her breast was being 
destroyed. Within 15 minutes it looked like her left breast, withered and 
leathery and ugly. The nipples on both breasts were still erect, sticking 
out like brown fingers in the middle of her ruined tits. The man put down 
the cannula and used both hands to take Laurel's nipples in his fingers. He 
pinched her, hard, and she yelped with sudden anger, glaring at him through 
her tears. "See there, pussy, you still have your nipples -- you're a lucky 
girl." He pinched her again, and Laurel writhed in pain and frustration. He 
grinned at her and said, "But I guess you won't be able to nurse your 
babies, will you?" He leaned down and licked her nipples, and Laurel's face 
clouded over with disgust. Her arms were stiff at her sides, her hands 
balled into fists, and her whole body was rigid with seething anger at what 
these men had done to her. She looked down at her ruined breasts, and tears 
streamed down her cheeks as the men moved in closer to see how horrible she 
looked now.


CHAPTER 32: Going Home

Helen took her daughters home to the inn, but their recovery -- and her own 
-- took months, and it will never really be complete. When men destroy a 
girl's femininity by disfiguring her body, the results stay with her the 
rest of her life. Helen did what she could to help her girls, but that 
wasn't very much. Dara had four operations on her chest, but her flesh had 
been so badly mutilated when her breasts were cut off, skin grafts could not 
be used, so there was no way to reconstruct her tits. She had to buy special 
bras with saline-filled prosthetics to give her at least the appearance of 
being female, but there was no way she could ever date or marry a man -- the 
moment she took off her bra, the ugly truth would be revealed. No man wants 
a girl without breasts, and Dara knew the romantic part of her life was 
over. She had only dated two guys, one in high school and one in college, 
and now there would never be any other men who would want her. She cried 
herself to sleep every night, partly from the pain of the operations, but 
mostly from the knowledge, sure and certain, that she was an ugly bitch that 
would never be attractive to any man, ever.

Laurel had to go through 12 operations on her chest, all of them painful and 
degrading. Her case was used for educational purposes at a teaching hospital 
in Virginia, which meant she had to submit to having her mutilated chest 
displayed in front of 200 doctors twice a week for the entire five months 
she was in and out of the hospital. The doctors were sympathetic and 
understanding -- but she still had to stand there naked for an hour, twice a 
week, while they examined every part of her chest. They needed to see all of 
her body in order to make comparisons to other girls of her age and size, so 
she couldn't just take down her top -- she had to strip naked and stand 
under hot lights on the stage of a large lecture hall while the doctors 
probed and prodded and examined her. Even worse, she had to wear high heels 
while she was being examined, because of the permanent damage to her ankles 
and tendons from wearing the ballet heels so long during the session at the 
inn. Standing flat-footed was just too painful with her shortened tendons, 
so she had to appear naked except for a pair of black high heels that her 
mom bought for her. The damage to her chest was something none of the 
doctors had ever seen -- perverted and horrible. They thought they might be 
able to save her breasts by implanting breast tissue taken from deceased 
donors, so Laurel had to endure four operations where boobs were cut off 
young girls who died in traffic accidents or had diseases, and their tit 
meat was harvested and packed into the discolored fleshy bags hanging off 
Laurel's chest. The results looked like something from a monster movie -- 
lumpy, discolored bags of brownish flesh bulging like overfilled balloons 
with tit meat taken from dead girls. Laurel's new breasts stuck straight out 
on her chest, like soccer balls that had been sewn onto her body, much too 
large for her slim 5 foot 7 inch frame, making her look like a stripper or a 
porn actress. The doctors told her they thought the implanted breast tissue 
would shrink over time, so they had inserted more than was needed -- but 
this didn't happen. Her jugs actually got bigger because they absorbed 
fluids from her body, and a week after what was supposed to be her final 
operation, one of her new boobs split open, and the implanted tissue poured 
out and ran down over her stomach and between her legs. While she was 
screaming, the damaged flesh in her other tit split open, and the nurses 
found her standing beside her bed with her new breasts splattered on the 
floor at her feet, and empty bags of discolored flesh hanging off her chest 
-- again. She was back where she started two months earlier, and she cried 
for two days.

Laurel's other eight operations were performed while the doctors tried to 
remove the damaged and necrotic tissue from her chest. They started by 
amputating what was left of her breasts, putting her at the point where Dara 
had been after the men cut off her tits. But Laurel's breast tissue could 
not be amputated cleanly because of the time that had passed while the 
doctors were trying to save the outer surfaces of her breasts -- now they 
had to cut deeper than usual for a simple mastectomy. The result was that 
Laurel's chest was not just flat when the operations were finished -- she 
had a sunken chest that looked like a flat tire. There was no possible way 
to fit her for prosthetics, and her case was worse than her sister's because 
at least Dara could wear bras filled with realistic-looking breast 
appliances. Laurel's chest was so hollowed out that no prosthetic could help 
her. She was sent home with a collection of large, baggy dresses that were 
meant to hide her hideous appearance from people who saw her. Laurel had to 
face the fact that men were done with her -- she looked even worse than her 
sister, and neither of them would ever be able to offer anything romantic to 
a man.

Helen's disfigurement was limited to her nipples, and skin was taken from 
her round little ass to cover the front of her breasts where her nipples and 
areolas had been. The doctors inserted hard lumps of graphite under the 
grafted flesh to simulate nipples -- but of course Helen could feel nothing 
because the thousands of nerve endings in her nipples had been cut off, and 
there was no way to regrow nerves. Helen had some feeling in her breasts, 
but the richness of an orgasm from a man fondling her nipples would never 
happen again for her. She continued running the inn, but she never again 
offered the premises to men for sexual purposes.

Dara went back to college after her chest healed, and she graduated from the 
University of Mary Washington with an M.Ed in May 2006. Laurel returned to 
the University of Pittsburgh and got her bachelor's degree in December 2005. 
She enrolled in the M.Ed program at Peabody College of Vanderbilt 
University, and is still working on her advanced degree. But both girls 
still felt the pull of sex -- they were young women and they had the natural 
urges that women have. The loss of their breasts branded them as offensive 
to any man who looked at them, so they found other ways to satisfy 
themselves sexually. Dara was arrested in October 2006 at an adult bookstore 
about 25 miles from Andover -- she performed a blowjob on a man who stuck 
his erection through a glory hole in one of the private booths, and as she 
was swallowing his load, the police burst in and arrested her. They let the 
man off with a warning, and later Dara found out the officers had been 
watching her through a hidden window in the bookstore office -- and they 
purposely let her suck the cock until the man was ready to cum before they 
interrupted the action. She was fined $500 and went to jail for 60 days. But 
the lure of anonymous sex was too much for her to resist, and she was 
arrested again, just three days after she got out of jail. This time she let 
a man fuck her through a glory hole, and this time the officers waited while 
the man ejaculated in Dara's cunt and she turned around and sucked his cock 
frantically, trying to get every drop of his semen in her mouth before he 
was done with her. This time she was fined $1,000 and sentenced to six 
months in jail.

Laurel also ran into problems with the police. She was arrested in August 
2006 in an alley not far from the Glowing Morn Retreat, and the police 
report said she was fully dressed, on her knees, giving a blowjob to a man 
while four other men waited their turn. Helen bailed her out, and Laurel was 
able to avoid a conviction when none of the men could be found to testify 
that she had offered to give them blowjobs for two dollars apiece, as stated 
in the indictment. When Helen learned that her daughter was selling herself 
so cheaply, she was devastated -- but it got worse. In November 2006 Laurel 
was found unconscious in a park in Andover, naked and bleeding from her 
vagina. She had been beaten, and the word "titless" had been spray-painted 
on her chest. She had been raped with a branch from a tree, about two feet 
long, and the branch was still in her vagina when she was found. Later she 
told her mother that she had offered blowjobs to six men she picked up in a 
bar, but when they took her to the park, they told her they wanted to fuck 
her, and told her to take off her clothes. Laurel resisted as best she 
could, but the men tore off her clothes -- and when they saw her disfigured 
chest, they went crazy and beat her. They all raped her, and then they 
screwed her one more time with the tree branch.

[End of story]
<1st attachment end>


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