PART 1 – The Guy
“How was your day love?” I made a point of calling my wife. It was Monday, a whole day since I saw my Little Girl at Leeds Station. We had our thing my slut and I, and that ‘thing’ was supposed to draw the boundaries and define what it was that we had, and where it was we had it, but if I was being honest I just could not get her out of my head.
Even during the waking moments with my eyes open I ‘saw’ her … on the cross, tied to the bed, in the throes of orgasm, her arms around my neck whispering ‘thank you.’
… and she would be gone until Friday.
“Hi darling, oh we had a brilliant day, thank you for asking. Sis had invited the local councillors and dignitaries to the opening of her new flower shop and we actually started the day with bucks fizz,” she chuckled.
“Oh, how decadent,” I chuckled back.
Fucking decadent, a glass of weak champagne diluted with fizzy juice … fuck me. I had crucified someone this weekend and hammered nails through their flesh … that’s fucking decadent!
Fuck!
It was a real blessing that my wife was at her sisters, because I only had to pretend to be interested in what she was doing for a few minutes on the phone …
“When are you back in theatre love?” She asked.
“Tomorrow, at the hospital. NHS trauma surgery, car crash victim to start with.”
There was a pause before my wife spoke. “Oh, my darling the work you do is so special, you and your colleagues should be knighted, and here’s me droning on about opening a new flower shop …”
“Which is hugely important honey. Where flowers grow, hope blooms, is what they say, isn’t it? We all need flowers hon, so you keep doing what you’re doing, and stay as long as she needs you. I’m fine here.”
“Oh, darling you are so understanding, whatever did I do to deserve you …”
Fuck, if only you knew, I thought.
“Not at all honey, I’m the lucky one. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you. Night night.”
And with that the call was done and I could get back to wanking my erect cock to thoughts of my Little Girl and her friend, naked in the woods, being tortured, and beaten … fucked.
My hands moved faster, my fingers massaging knowingly, applying pressure underneath the swollen head, and I soon came, my back arching, spurts of my seed arcing high to fall across my abdomen and thighs. I lay back gasping, physically satiated but even my self- induced climax could not remove the vision of that fucking gorgeous little slut from my head!
******
I needed to sleep. The weekend had been exhausting, and so fucking exhilarating … but I was operating tomorrow and needed to rest. Except my mind was working overtime. I couldn’t stop thinking of what we had done … of Red, her flame-haired friend and my beautiful slut, two pain-stimulated concubines whose names I did not know, but who were consuming my every waking thought.
With the Chinese Take Away opened out in the spacious and airy day room, and my beer opened, I flicked the MacBook browser to watch porn. It was easy to imagine my Little Girl in these situations. Fuck yes. Taken in a basement, secured behind piping, legs spread as wide as they could go, mounted on a phallus … like being crucified only different … and without nails.
I lay back naked on the bed, my 58-year-old body bearing up well, but if my wife could have seen me … good job it
Having searched for my choice, I watched the link url appear in my web page …
And as the video started, in my mind’s eye, the model was my Little Girl. Crying out as she was secured into position, then whipped, pegged and penetrated before being relentlessly fucked …
Fuck … I needed her so much. I had jerked off three times already since waking this morning and now I was hard again.
I paused the video and closed my eyes. What would it be like actually taking her out … maybe for dinner? You know, having her on my arm as my date … I laughed at the thought of me using the word ‘date’ and how uncontemporary that would sound to her young ears.
I wondered how things had gone with the BF and if Red was now on the scene more formally as her lover.
In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about her for as second, she was plaguing me with her sweet images … I could hear her voice, see the orgasm in her lovely face, feel her tremble as I fucked her.
I needed her so badly.
I switched the video back on and watched as the submissive Asian model was dominated and used and then, once my take out dinner was finished, I wanked … again … and once more it was the sweet Little Pain Slut that brought me my welcome relief.
As my gasps settled and the residual sperm had dried into my pile of tissues, I took out my phone. Swiping to the contact called only ‘LG’ – Little Girl. I read the texts she had sent me previously. The one during the Christmas Break asking how I was, and then several reporting on their progress, hers and Red’s, as they made their way across the Pennines last weekend.
And then I began to type.
“Hey Little Girl how are you? How’s things with Red? How’s things with the BF? I miss you, a lot. A fucking lot. When can we meet again xxx”
I looked at the words. Re-read my message. Damn how I wanted her … needed her even. She would be my undoing this Little Girl with the pain fetish … and there was nothing I could do about it.
My finger hovered over the SEND button … but I didn’t send. I deleted every last character. My slut needed a little more time away from me …
Part 2 – The Girl
Shitty journey. It always is. Useless Northern Rail. Shitty weather. Over the Pennines. Shitty.
But good to be home.
Unlock the door. Climb the stairs. Open my door. Fall on the bed. With her. Kiss her. Home.
I know I have to. Phone him. Not in.
Text. How are you?
Kiss her again. Sleep a bit. My fucking hands still hurt so much. A glass of water and too many paracetemols.
Ping. Text. Him.
Better. How are you? Drinks? In the pub tonight?
Kiss her. Kiss her. Tits out together. Kiss her. Love her. Tell her. Text back. Yeah. Abi will come too. OK. Seven thirty?
Our fave pub. Down in D’bury. Three beers. So, you ok?
Shit!
What the fuck have you done to your hands?
Look at my bandaged hands. Stuff, I say. Stuff.
Fuck, he says.
Sip on our beers.
Her hand in my lap, stroking me.
He looks at us. We smile at each other.
So… well…
Yeah…
So…?
So… I love you still, but… You and her?
Yeah.
So that’s it then? Well…
So that’s it.
I say nothing.
He says nothing. Kisses me on the lips. Stands. Leaves. That fucking easy.
Order another drink each. Cuddle. Kiss her. Fucking love her.
Fancy a curry?
Yeah… cool.
Let’s fuck off down the Mile then.
That easy. Poor thing. I’m a fucking bastard. But I fucking love Abi. And a nice hot curry. And a beer. And fuck my fucking hands hurt so fucking much.
And we’ll have tonight together in my little cosy room before she has to head to N’town. And she’ll be back next Friday. Yeah.
But first a nice curry and a lager and a kiss in the rain.
Part 3 – The Guy
I watched my Little Girl cry out. For the first time in our short relationship I saw her looking really, really scared. Frightened to the point of terror, and in her terrorised state she was crying out, begging for mercy … but none was to be given.
Her face was slapped, hard … time and time again until tears poured down her cheeks and her eyes blackened from the cheap makeup that she wore.
Is this what she really wanted? What WE really wanted?
For her to be beaten and used by another man, a large overbearing man, who would whip her and hurt her while I watched …
Had we progressed to this already? Was my Little girl now no more than a slutty porn addict, whose sole purpose in life was to be used, not just by me, but by anyone and everyone …
The man, his name restricted to a short icon like label … ‘The Pope’, he was called by those who knew him, and although we did not know him, he had been easy enough to get to when we wanted him and showed him the money.
I had said before that I considered myself a moderately religious man, but these days I found myself blaspheming somewhat effortlessly. A crucifix in the woods, a bondage Dom called ‘The Pope’ …
He had a chain around her neck, a thick linked chain and it was padlocked tight against her throat as she lay back over a flat surface, her tight, nubile body naked.
Again, she cried out as the whip fell hard across her breasts, firm mounds that seemed somehow to be miraculously healed from the previous gatherings, in fact not a blemish stained them.
“Please!” she begged with a plaintiff cry, but all she received was a harsh slap across the face.
“You can jerk off if you want,” The Pope spoke directly at me in his American drawl, as I stood to the side watching this explicit scene of graphic torture porn unfold before me …
So, I did. With my cock hard and aching in my hand I slipped it out and began to wank for all I was worth, not caring about who could see me.
“Top Surgeon in Torture Porn scandal …” the words, sensational in their linkage, kept on playing in my head, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop this … it was what we wanted. It WAS … wasn’t it?
Fuck, I was so damn hard and my knowing fingers were rapidly bringing my climax on.
I watched as my Little Girl’s head was covered by a bag. I knew what he had planned, and so did she. Now she really began to struggle.
“Release … Releeeeease … RELEASE!!!” She cried out the safeword that The Pope had agreed with her.
“Fuck that,” he growled back at her. We have no safe words here, and her groan of anguish was lost inside the material of the bag.
No safe words … my cock stiffened even more.
Her naked body writhed in fearful anticipation as the man, large and foreboding in his appearance, began to pour water onto her face, laughing as he did so … she convulsed in movements that were infused with an ever-increasing desperation. The bag was pulled back so we could see her pretty face covered in a sheen of glistening wetness, contorted with the agonies of her terror, before he quickly covered her back up, capturing her efforts to breathe, so he could ‘drown’ her all over again …
“Cum if you want,” he looked over at me, his gaze focusing on my cock, “Come over here and explode on her tits while I do this, I’m gonna make her pass out … make her think she’s dying … you know that’s what she wants … what she wants … what she wants …”
His repeated words echoed with his laughter … and then …
“Fuck!” I woke with a start. Sitting up in my bed, gasping for breath I flopped back down onto the duvet.
“Fuck …” I repeated. Then I realised that my fingers were wound round my erection. It had seemed so real, the dream … so fucking real.
I groaned and glanced at the time. It was only 5am … I was exhausted.
Fleetingly I thought of my wife, but only to thank the stars that she was still at her sisters and would be for a few more days yet. I closed my eyes and my thoughts turned to my Little Girl. How I wished she was here in bed next to me, so that I could pull her into my body, hold her, cuddle her, kiss her, fuck her …
Man, was I feeling tired …
The first day back in theatre following a holiday break was always a trial of effort, with extra determination to concentrate and focus being required, and this time, with my potential for mental distraction being even greater, the energy required was even more burdensome!
But I only had a 10am clinic at the local BUPA hospital today and that was it. Two hours of easy discussion and surgical planning, and that was it. I then had the rest of the day to plot and plan and masturbate to my favourite Little Girl …
The bag … the water … the agony and the pain …
The Pope was a well-known BDSM Dominant, who I had seen ‘perform’ on his porn models many times online, how and why-the- fuck he had suddenly appeared in my dreams I had no idea.
But I was delighted that he had because now I knew exactly what I would be doing with my Little Pain Slut the next time we met!
Once my clinic was over, I would be researching the fuck out of ‘Waterboarding’ …
Part 4 – The Girl
A curry and a lager and a few more lagers… and to a bar and a few more lagers.
We shouldn’t have. Lectures tomorrow and she has to go home. Fucked.
So sweet. So sweet to be swaying pissed with her.
Collapse onto my bed. Too pissed to piss around with things. Clothes off. Bodies together. Sloppy sloppy kissy fucky.
Sweet. Pissed.
Love her
Love her in the morning.
In the shitty flat in the dull morning light.
With a coffee in a chipped mug.
Missing lectures and trains.
Snuggling with her in our sweet fucking nakedness.
Think about him. A bit. I so love him. He’s gone. Best I leave it like that. Kiss her.
On her belly. On her tits.
I don’t want you to go.
Have to.
Same as you. Studies. Love you so much. Love you too.
Did you like him?
Nah. Not really. Like him… no… I like what he does to me.
Me too.
What about him?
I think… I think he’s married. Sort of a professional. Sort of well off. He’s fucking old.
Yeah.
But he’s good. I mean. Like super good. I like that.
And I don’t mind him fucking me.
Nah. Me neither.
He’s sort of …. well… I preferred the wooden thing. But it’s like a weapon he has, isn’t it? Not like he loves us.
Love you babe. Love you Abi.
Shall we?
Yeah. I want to.
Ok.
Then I will. When can you?
Hmmm. I need to chill a bit. But soon.
Will you come down to me next weekend? In N-town? Yeah.
And then we can text him, right?
Yeah.
Kiss me Abi.
We kiss. Lots. I fucking love her. I fucking love that we will do some stuff with him again. Soon. I want to text him now.
But I will wait.
Let’s fuck I say.
We do.
I fucking love her.
Want to be hurt again. By him. Badly. Me and Abi. Us both. Fuck. How did I find this sweet sexy thing? So, fucking sexy. So much want to watch her watching me being hurt and her being hurt too. So much Fucking love her.
Kiss her. Kiss her sweet gorgeous cunt. Kiss her sweet soft tits. Kiss her. Kiss her.
Fucking love her. So much. Love her so much. Fuck. I want to hurt again so fucking much. Fuck.
Love her.
Need him.
Fuck.
Kiss her sweet open mouth. Sip my fingers into her sweet soft cunt. Slide over her. Sleepy soft kissy sweet babe.
Part 5 – The Guy
“… Waterboarding is a form of water torture in which water is poured over a cloth covering the face and breathing passages of an immobilized captive, causing the person to experience drowning …”
Wikipedia had never sounded so erotic!
I could feel the stretching of my shorts by the growing rigidity of my erection just from reading the words. The thought of my Little Girl being tied down to a board of some sort, her naked, panic stricken body writhing and convulsing in desperation, was almost too much.
Crucifying her was unimaginably satisfying, but there was far more process to Waterboarding a person, and much more potential for adding ‘other elements.’
For example, I could vibe her while she was ‘drowning’ making it literally impossible for my slut to draw breath. I could actually stop her heart, and then defibrillate her back to life … wow, that thought grew my hard on substantially. Could I actually fuck her while she was dying and then shock life back into her dead body? Fucking hell!
I wanted this … I wanted this like never before!
I had to take a break from the intensity of my thoughts and walk around the garden for a while. The morning’s clinic had been a breeze. Three post-operative check up’s and a couple of new surgical requirements. My private work was the icing on my professional cake. If it wasn’t for the NHS working-hours-threshold, I would only do private work. Not very public spirited I agree, but hey, this was about me!
I had thought about my Little Girl all throughout the session. Her face, her body … breasts, ass, cunt, nose, eyes, hair … I wanted it all for myself!
Would she want Red to come with her again? I hoped so, because whilst the slut was my obsession, her flame-haired friend was a true beauty. A canvas of decorated flesh designed only for pleasure. Was my pain toy taking her pleasure from Red’s perfect body … I guessed she was … I hoped she was, and I assumed the BF had been consigned to history. My Little Girl knew exactly what she wanted, and I knew that she wanted Red.
I suddenly realised that I had been holding my breath at times throughout my meandering walk, and so now I enjoyed a long, gasping exhale and my body relaxed. Our gardens were a decent size and the air was fresh. Snow had been forecast for the coming weekend but today was more Spring like. Snow-drops had appeared in clumps around the lawn and the warmth of the Winter sun cutting through the chill was soothing.
As I sat for a while on the bench that looked over the expanse of grass at the back of my property, I sipped at my coffee and thought about my little slut.
Could I waterboard her … really, properly? Where would we do it? How would I do it? The latter point wasn’t an issue. I had seen many ingenious methods on the internet porn sites so she could be ‘boarded in many different ways.
But could I truly stop her heart? Now that would be something. Actually make her die for a few seconds before shocking her back into life … Damn, just imagine that? I could get hold of high voltage defibrillation machines for sure … fuck, I really could kill her!
But where? That was a more difficult question, and one which right now I didn’t have the answer to.
******
Over the next couple of days I found myself in theatre pretty much full time. In fact on Thursday the ninth of January I was called in during the early hours from my bed for an emergency.
The required operation was reconstructive. Ribs shattered, along with shoulder bones and blades. I high impact fall fuelled by drink that put the guy in hospital and got me out of bed! His internal organs had been battered and at one point it was touch and go. But he pulled through, we pulled him through.
It was sitting in the rest area after the surgery, for which I had been one of three surgeons, that I found myself alone with a young, pretty nurse.
“Would you like coffee?” She asked me, “Keep you awake for a little longer.” She beamed a lovely smile at me.
Since Christmas, or more to the point, since meeting my Little Girl, I was seeing ‘sex’ and ‘eroticism’ everywhere. TV adverts, shop assistants, girls in the street and right now I found myself staring at the firm breasts of this young nurse as they pushed against the tight blue front of her uniform. Fuck, I needed release. Not just from my own hand, but proper release inside the body of my slut.
I could feel my groin tingle as the hot coffee was placed before me. “Are you going home to sleep now?” She asked.
“Well certainly to rest,” I nodded back. “I managed a few hours in bed before we got the call, so I’m not feeling too bad.”
“You don’t operate much here do you?” She questioned me somewhat rhetorically. The girl was clearly a theatre nurse and so she would know the surgeons pretty well.
“No, just the second time for me.” I smiled back, taking another sip of coffee.
“Thought so,” she replied sitting back on the comfy couch. I watched as the hem of her uniform made its way up her thigh and she unwittingly flashed her legs at me more than she realised.
“Thought we were going to need to defib him at one point …” the nurse relaxed into the seat, closing her eyes. The guy had been in a poor way, but we had patched him up and left him in ICU to complete his recovery …
The analogy of giving him his life back was not lost on me as, in the presence of this pretty young nurse, with the long, slender legs, I thought of how I could do the same for my Little Girl when the time came, but this time in the name of erotic torture!
******
“What’s that building over there?” I asked my nursing colleague as we left the hospital together.
“What, the old basement store?” She replied, building the answer to my question into the reciprocal question of her own.
My interest was piqued. “Basement store? Is it disused?”
“Gosh, yes. I have worked here for over three years and I have never seen anyone go inside.”
“What’s down there?” I asked.
She shook her head, “No idea really. I guess old stuff maybe. You surgeons and Senior Management can actually get into it if you ever needed to. The code you have set on your pass for the main building is the same as the code on the keypad for the old storehouse. Let me know what you find if you ever go down.” She grinned as we parted and she headed for her car.
“Great job today,” she beamed at me, “See you next time.”
I smiled back, but my mind was already ticking over. The old basement storehouse, to which I had access, apparently. Had I just found the place for the next tryst with my little slut?
Part 6 – The Girl
Kiss her on the lips. In her mouth. At the station. Hugs. Til the weekend.
Back to the library. Work. Late lecture. My hands hurt. Pop pills. Want to phone him. The BF. Know I can’t. Pissed off. Love her. Abi.
Home. Bathroom’s free so have a soak. Stings. Lie on my bed. Music. Let’s Eat Grandma. Put some clips on my nipples and twist. That’s good.
Take myself to the student union bar. Beer. Slouch sexily. A first year tries to chat me up so I let him. Drag him into a corner and snog and drag him home and fuck.
Can I have your number he asks. No fucking way. Lectures. My hands hurt. Miss her.
Text her.
Dying to see you on Friday night. Kiss you.
Shall we contact him?
Yeah.
Who do you think he is?
Does it matter? Who cares if he’s married or whatever? He does it for us doesnt he?
Tremble a bit. Another sip of beer.
It’s me. Well, us really.
We want to see you again. You tell us when. I’m with her in N town this weekend. You can let us know. We want you to hurt us again. You decide everything, ok?
Press send.
Fuck. Let Abi know. I so want to lie with her and kiss her again.
My fucking hands hurt.
Part 7 – The Guy
Hearing the door click softly shut behind me was far more exhilarating than I thought it would be. Partly because of the innate secrecy that surrounded my presence here and the sense that I was somewhere I shouldn’t be, but mainly because my imagination had already leapt ahead to when I may well return with my little slut to accompany me.
It was indeed a basement and the small outwardly visible building had, upon the code lock being entered and the door opened, immediately lead down a flight of stone stairs. The small internal threshold into which I had walked, had an auto-operated light that, upon my entering, flickered into some sort of faded life via the stark, naked single bulb that dangled above me.
It looked like a place that hadn’t been breached since before the second world war, but the placement of a light, any sort of light, even one as limited as this one was, showed that the NHS hadn’t totally abandoned it. That fact, which meant that, in theory at least, someone else could actually come into here and discover what we were doing! As stupid as this sounds, that element of potential for discovery made what I was planning even more stimulating … I had felt the same about the woodland setting from the last meetings.
The light gave me just long enough to descend the stairs before it clicked off, leaving me to initiate the torch in my phone to see anything else through the gloomy darkness.
If I was to make this the setting for my Little Girl’s next torture, I would need candles.
It was surprisingly warm down here, I assumed that was from the underground placing of this space, the packed soil around the outside.
But as a venue for my next outing with my Pain Slut, it was perfect. It was dingy for sure, and filled with dusty boxes and old electrical gear, medical instruments and metal shelving along one side was filled with small, cardboard packing boxes.
But the floor space was large and there was a stock of unused wood along with a small pile of bricks stacked in one corner …
… that would come in useful for sure, but there was more that I needed to make this work.
Water and power. There had to be some kind of power with the light in the threshold working, and I was right. By circling the phone’s light beam around the walls, I found several sockets, and by plugging an old kettle into one of them I was able proved that the power was active. Good.
Then the jackpot! A sink, and taps with water …
This place was ideal … Perfect. The game was very much on!
******
It was the afternoon of Friday the 10th of January. My wife was returning to me. I was at the local station, the one that required a short further train journey to get here from the main hub at Leeds.
Somehow, whenever I headed here, I was always early. I think I
anticipated the traffic that never quite manifested itself, and today was no exception.
Having parked the car in the short stay/pickup car park I sat down with a coffee. My mind was filled with my slut, as always, but now the mind-share that she monopolised was crammed with plans for her next ‘adventure’ with me.
It was while I sat in the moderately busy café, with my coffee, awaiting the return of my wife, that my phone buzzed.
“We want to see you again. You tell us when. I’m with her in N- town this weekend. You can let us know. We want you to hurt us again. You decide everything, ok?”
I stared at the words. It was her, my Little Girl. The words were unambiguous and to the point. There was little love contained in them, not even a ‘kiss or two’, but they oozed with need and desperation.
But, fuck … this weekend. They would be together, her and Red and they both wanted to see me. This was, at one end of its spectrum, the perfect fantasy, but the notice of their availability was short, very short. Could I make this work? I had to, because I needed her, needed them, as much as they needed me!
******
“Well, I can’t really complain dear, now can I?” My wife had just flopped in the chair, the large leather one in our front room that looked out over the gardens through the large window. “After all I have just had a week at my sister’s so a weekend conference is a pain, because I will miss you, but if that’s where you need to be then so be it.”
Fuck, this was too easy. My wife smiled up at me as I brought her a hot mug of Mint Tea.
“Ohhhh I need this,” she said hugging the mug before taking a drink.
“Thanks for understanding honey,” I smiled sitting next to her. For a fifty-something woman, my wife was kind of very fit. Still slim, the right bra kept her breasts firm, and she wore her jeans tight …
“I’m going to run to a bath while you drink your tea, you look like you could do to relax for a while. I have wine chilled … I might even join you.” My smile turned to a smirk …
“Ooooh, you bad boy!” she laughed back at me.
Under cover of the running water from the main bathroom, the one with the large jacuzzi bath, I took out my phone.
“Little Girl, this weekend is fine. Get the train to Leeds. Meet me at 2pm at the station. We will take it from there. You will be returned on Sunday.”
I crafted my text with as much brevity as she had written hers, and smiled at my use of the word ‘returned’. It made it sound like she was a ‘package’ a ‘thing’ or a ‘chattel’, to be transported under the directional whim of others. I grinned to myself picturing her reading this.
We would need no hotel stay over this time … we would be entering my underground basement and not leaving …
I pressed SEND.
Part 8 – The Girl
Trains through the ugly English weather. Going to see her.
Clickety clack.
Snuggled by the window.
Clickety clack.
Reading Olivia Gatwood. So gorgeous. She is. Her writing is. What would she think?
Badly. Of us. I think. Or maybe not. We are chosing. I think.
N-town.
Her.
Pizza, telly, bed. Kisses. Lovers. Love her. Sweet soft sexy.
Ping. The phone.
Kisses. Can’t stop.
Him. Tomorrow at 2. At the station.
Fuck.
So, it’s happening. And I’m shit scared. And shit excited. Hug her. We’re both scared excited. Fuck!
Trains. Again. A stupid early start. We decided we wanted to get the most from the weekend…
So around 7.15 and a change at Chesterfield.
Get in by 9ish. Fucking excited. So so scared. Text him.
So he knows now. Two fucked up girls on the way to be hurt by him however he fucking wants. And returned. On Sunday.
Fuck.
And my poor hands still hurting.
Footsie under the table. The couple next to us have no fucking idea. What we are going to Leeds for.
Smile at her. She’s so amazingly beautiful. So fucking gorgeous. And we’re going so he can hurt us.
Clickety clack.
Almost there.
Nine passes by. Suburbs. Dirty place. Clackety click. Screeching to stop.
Two girls on the platform.
Two pretty young girls.
A bit nervous. Bite our lips. Scared. Excited.
Come to be hurt and hurt bad.
Two pretty crazy girls. Wondering. Fucking crazy girls. And no-one else knows…
And we’re so fucking excited.
About the idea of being hurt by him.
I love her so much….
Part 9 – The Guy
The night before. Alone. In the bathroom.
Excited like a teenager. Mind working on overdrive … Like a teenager.
Love her, Red! Love you more my Little Girl!
Can’t wait. Erect. Turned on. Wank but edge only and drip. Don’t want to waste it.
Still hard. Edge repeat. Edge repeat. Fuck I am aching for release, aching for Red’s body. Aching for yours more.
This time boundaries will be pushed. Outcomes cannot be guaranteed. Be scared, be terrified and be very afraid …
“There you are,” My wife looked up from her book as I sauntered into the living room.
“What?” She says, angling her head. I must have had the look of lust on my face, or something, for her to ask the question in such a random manner.
“Take off the gown.” I say with controlled assertion. I was going to save it for them. Save my sperm, my thick, white seed … though not so thick anymore since the vasectomy. But still plentiful and I would generate more for them.
She furrowed her brow back at me.
“Stand the fuck up and take off the gown. NOW!” I repeated.
I saw her swallow hard. “But I’m …”
“Naked underneath,” I finished off for her, “Yes I know. Now take it off or do I need to do it for you.”
My wife stood and the thin gown slipped from her shoulders. It was all she had worn since the bath. I hadn’t joined her then, but my subsequent wanking and thoughts of them had pushed me beyond the edge, and now my release couldn’t wait. I moved to her and grabbed her by the roots of her hair, pulling back, exposing her neck for my mouth …
She liked it like this, my wife, well sometimes at least, and so she whimpered as I attacked her smooth flesh with my lips.
My free hand closed over her exposed breasts, not quite so firm without the fettering of a bra, but they felt good.
“I missed you so much …” she whispered as I threw her face first over the couch. As I thrust my erection into her high, exposed slick opening, it was thoughts of my Little Girl and her flame haired friend that fuelled my lust. When I came deep inside my wife’s pliable, soaking wet cunt, it was all I could do to stop myself from crying out for them …
******
The following morning saw the weather turn ugly. Today was the day … fuck!
The ‘Heartstart’ portable defibrillator from Philips had been on charge all night. Most surgeons and Senior Consultants had such a machine, it proved a necessary tool for some emergencies. Never had I imagined using it in the way I intended to over the next 24 hours though.
Sitting at the table by the window I stared at the MacBook screen open in front of me. I had found an academic piece on Waterboarding, an interview on YouTube, and was avidly watching, and listening through my headphones …
INTERVIEWER: Tell me, Doctor, what is it about waterboarding that makes it so contentious?
DOCTOR X: First of all, it can cause a range of very serious injuries. These include lung damage, broken bones due to the violence with which victims struggle against their restraints, brain damage from oxygen depletion, pneumonia, hyponatraemia – that’s a rare but deadly condition caused by lack of sodium in the blood – right through to asphyxiation, choking on vomit, or dry drowning. But what makes it especially controversial is that, unlike other harsh interrogation techniques, it is specifically designed to take the subjects as close to death as possible.
I could hardly contain myself. Fuck yes, this was going to be damned dangerous, edgy in the extreme. I continued to listen.
INTERVIEWER: And each time the interrogators just pour the water over the cloth?
DOCTOR X: Exactly. According to the US Internal Documents we have studied, by its own design Waterboarding “closely replicates” the sensation of drowning.
INTERVIEWER: So, the subject isn’t actually in any danger?
DOCTOR X: The language is misleading. The subject IS drowning, just not underwater. Interrogators are instructed to pour the water when a detainee has just exhaled, so that he or she is forced to ingest water directly into the lungs. That’s drowning, by any medical definition. Interrogators are also allowed to force the water down a detainee’s throat using their hands. [READS FROM MEMO] “The interrogator may cup his hands around the detainee’s nose and mouth to dam the runoff, in which case it would not be possible for the detainee to breathe at all during the application of the water.” And here, a little later: [READS] “We understand that water may enter – and accumulate in – the detainee’s mouth and nasal cavity, preventing him or her from breathing.”
INTERVIEWER: So, there is a very real risk of death? DOCTOR X: Inevitably so …
I had heard enough. My erection was already burgeoning. The next 24 hours were going beyond fantasy. I could not wait.
I removed the headphones and looked outside over the gardens. The lush green and myriad colours of Spring and Summer, and to a certain extent Autumn, disappeared in the Winter, giving way to a sparse display of bleak outlines.
The weather outside was awful. It hadn’t rained for a while, not really since that time when I first had my Little Girl in the woods, but now the deluge had been falling all night, a relentless, depressing torrent that battered the glass pane before me.
At ten o’clock on Saturday morning it was so overcast and dark that the security lights were still on outside, and, despite their sullen yellow glares, I could barely see the outlines of the tree branches, now devoid of their leaves, across the lawns through the thick sheet of water that poured down.
“Dreadful weather,” my wife observed, stepping to me and sliding her arms around my waist from behind. “Do you really have to go to this thing?”
I placed my hands on hers and nodded. “’Fraid so honey, I’m hosting a focus group on the use of portable defibrillators in an emergency situation. Having to take my own damn machine!” A lie that covered the unpalatable truth.
I felt her head rest on my back as my phone vibrated in my pocket. I turned and kissed my wife. But I needed to break from her, make the mental transition from dependable husband to my other persona, the one that two young girls were travelling a long way to meet in just a few hours.
As I retrieved my clothes bag, packed with a few ‘cover story’ clothes and toiletries, I opened the message.
“We’re here. Having coffee in the Weatherspoons pub at the station. Can we meet before 2?”
My heart raced. They were here and they were so damn early.
I had things to buy before meeting them, and it was me that dictated the terms, me that held the control here. Her text was timed at 10:15am.
“No, we can’t. You get to enjoy a romantic few hours with Red in the big City Centre, but we can have a small change of plan. Nearer the meeting time head out of the City via the Main University. You will come across a large expanse of grass. It’s called Woodhouse Moor. There’s a small car park. Meet me there at 1pm. You might need to buy an umbrella for the walk.”
I pressed SEND.
******
It was fifteen minutes to one o’clock when I found myself just a short distance away from the Moors Car Park. The Defib machine was in the boot of the car, along with my overnight bag and a second bag now filled with rope, cable ties, alligator clips, duct tape, screws and nails, a hammer, a drill and a large, powerful hair dryer. I also had a vibrator, a larger wand than I used before. All items that I had picked up and paid cash for from a variety of sources over the past couple of hours, even the hair dryer, all except the drill and hammer … those I already had.
The moors were ahead of me now, in full view. A huge expanse of grass either side of a busy main road that bridged the City Centre with the nearby student district feeding the University.
I felt my excitement rise as I clicked on the indicator to turn into the car park. It was deserted on a day like this, pissing it down with rain … empty all except for two young students standing huddled under a large umbrella.
I parked the car and, peering through the windscreen between the swipe of the wiper blades, I looked out at them.
Red, the taller of the two, a little more statuesque with her brightly coloured hair, tied up today … and then my Little Girl. The one that I truly loved. The one that I wanted to hurt the most.
They both turned to look at me and suddenly I was no longer the reliable husband, the experienced surgeon that earned such a good living and lived in a big house overlooking the countryside, looking after his wife and family … I was their man. The pervert they needed. The dominant who would use them and hurt them. That man was back inside me now and how I had missed him.
Red, in jeans and black jacket, hair soaking wet from the rain that the umbrella had failed to collect, looked stunning … my Little Girl in a denim jacket, tee shirt and a long flowy, studenty kind of skirt … looked equally lovely and I could already imagine them both naked in my mind’s eye.
I got out of the car and immediately felt the needle-like barrage of the rain as it battered itself into me.
I had this moment planned. The next 24 hours would begin here. Both girls came running over, an eagerness about their demeanour.
“We came,” my Little Girl said with an enthusiastic statement of the obvious.
I simply nodded and smiled at Red. “Good to see you Red,” I said holding out my arms as I ignored the slut. I saw Red furrow her brow at my Little Girl as she fell into my embrace, but that was all part of the plan to reduce the slut to the level of nothing. Ignored. Used. Hurt. It’s what she wanted, wasn’t it?
I opened the door for Red, the front passenger door, saying “Get in quickly, out of this damn rain.”
“Shall I get in here,” My Little Girl was already moving to open the rear door.
“You will stay out in the fucking rain until I say so. You take the umbrella,” I instructed Red. She did and as she got in the car, I took it from her so that I could cover my-self.
The slut stood shivering, exposed fully to the mercy of the rain, her hair plastered to her head. I moved to her and, in a move not unlike the one I used on my wife the previous evening, grabbed the wet curls with my free hand to twist her neck and head so that she faced me while her body was facing a different direction. She gasped and I grinned.
“Take off your jacket.” I ordered.
She looked incredulous as if to say, “What, out here in this weather, you must be joking.” But she said none of that, and in seconds she stood in just a tee shirt which was quickly soaked, clinging to her like second skin, her nipples, despite the bra she wore, were sticking out like bullets.
“Now the tee shirt.” Closing her eyes, she paused, but only for a moment. As I watched her struggle to pull the wet top up and over her head, I felt my groin tingle. Her hands were still bandaged and I could see how painful it was still for her to use them. I would inspect them when we arrived at the basement.
I could see her scars, some healed, some healing and others still looking a little angry.
I dragged her by the hair to the back of the car. I opened the boot door and ordered her in.
She looked up at me and her eyes once more spoke, this time silently saying “In here, in the fucking boot while she is in the front with you?” But those words were never said, and in the slut climbed.
“The bra please.” I think she knew that was coming and despite the restricted hand use, she quickly handed me the underwear. I stared at her breasts. My dream the other night had pictured them without a blemish, but that was not what they were like. Still full and firm of course, they were scarred with the small, healed puncture marks from the skewers and the welt marks of the whip. Beautiful.
As I pulled the secure- pet netting over her, skirt risen as high as her thighs, my slut was forced to lay down on her side. I cable tied her wrists behind her back and closed the lid of the boot door securing her inside and out of sight.
As I lowered the wet umbrella and opened the driver’s door I smiled at Red, then started the car.
Part 10 – The Girl
See you at one? What the fuck!
We get up fucking early and he says see you at one?
Jeez.
In fucking Leeds?
Whatever.
Another coffee.
Her across the table. Sweet lovely her.
And… why rush?
Shit. We want the hours to rush so he can strip us and hurt us.
Fucking mad.
Talk to her.
What do you think he’ll do she asks.
Don’t care. Up to him. That’s the deal. He can hurt me how he likes. I like that. Not knowing.
I’m stupid mad crazy.
I know I am.
I don’t care. He can fucking kill me if he wants. As long as he doesn’t mark my face. As long as it hurts.
That’s me. Fuck. How is this me?
A long walk. In the rain. It always rains here. And then we wait. In the rain.
Him.
Pissing down.
She gets in. Smiles at me.
He tells me to get my jacket off. It’s fucking raining.
Hard.
Cold.
He can. Whatever he wants. I want him to do this.
I know.
T-shirt.
I know,
Into the back
I know.
He doesn’t have to ask
Bra off.
Tits soaked.
Hair soaked.
My fucking hands hurt.
He can do what he fucking wants. That’s what I want. Nothing. Just what he wants.
This weekend my body isn’t mine.
That’s how I want it.
His.
To fuck with.
I’m scared.
I’m stupid fucking stupid. I have a life.
I don’t care.
I want him to hurt me.
I like this,
I like how this has started. I want it.
I want it.
Part 11 – The Guy
“So, she’s with you now?” Pulling out onto the main road once more I turned to speak with Red.
She just stared back at me and paused before responding, “You locked her in the boot?”
I laughed.
“In the fucking boot?” She sounded even more incredulous.
“Look Red, I’m in charge here, I dictate the terms and if I say the slut goes cold and wet, half naked into the boot of my car then that is what happens.”
We sat in silence for a short while, as the friend contemplated what was going on here.
“So, are you two together now … you know, an item?” I tried the same question another way.
This time she nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. She dumped him, the BF, and we’ve kissed n fucked n stuff since we left you last weekend, so …”
Good. I liked that.
It took no more than twenty minutes of driving on the rain-soaked roads to get us the hospital. The main buildings and wings were busy, as they always were at weekends, mainly with visitors. But there wasn’t many people actually out on the streets or in the entranceways given the inclement weather, which made our presence quite unremarkable as we drove round the side, and then the back, past the car park I had been heading towards when I first discovered this building, so that we could stop out of sight near to the entrance to the basement … my basement … our basement.
“Okay, we’re here. I said coming to a halt.”
“Where are we?” Red said, “And what are you planning?”
I just smiled and got out indicating that she should do likewise.
The rain had actually eased a little and so we were getting less wet as I opened the boot and pulled back the pet-secure netting.
“Get out Little cunt …” I said with aggression.
“Please be nicer to her …” Red began to say, but stopped short when she saw my glare.
My Little Girl shuffled out of the car. And stood with head and eyes downcast.
“Strip her naked.” I issued the command and saw the friend look at the slut, who nodded.
“I give the fucking orders here Red. If I say strip her, then strip her whatever she fucking well wants.” My growl ensured that no more dissent was forthcoming and so in seconds the flowing skirt, pumps and my slut’s skimpy panties had been removed.
“Good,” I remarked, apprising my Little Girl’s naked body with an admiring eye.
Moving to her I gripped my Little Girl’s hair in my fist once more. She gasped as I pulled and twisted, but the gasps turned to a sob as I parted her thighs and began to slowly stroke her slit, not opening her, not yet, just stroking the full length from her perineum to her clit and back again, time after time until she cried out and her knees wobbled.
I laughed and let her go. On the edge of her climax my Little Girl resumed her position with a trembling stance.
The rain was coming steadily again now.
“Stay just here,” I said to the slut, moving her to the side of the building, away from the shelter of the raised car boot door, “Red and I will unpack.”
By the time the friend and I had taken my bags, the defibrillator, and the other accessories down the stone steps, lit the candles and paved the way for our entry, a further twenty minutes had passed by for my Little Girl to stand shivering, dripping wet. I would need to be careful she didn’t fall ill from exposure …
“Move it cunt,” I ordered, pushing the slut forward towards the steps. Red was already down there in the dusty basement store room, waiting.
The car was locked, hidden from sight and so as the entrance door clicked quietly closed, we were in. There would be no turning back now.
******
I never actually said the word “Waterboarding”, but it didn’t take either of them long to realise what was going to happen, not when they saw the items that I had readied for our arrival. Buckets and bricks and wood and …
“You’re gonna ‘Board us?” Red could spoke the words quietly, a choke in her voice very definitely there.
I nodded, “Oh yes, and in so many different ways …”
There was a silence at first and then the sound of a steady water flow. I looked round to see my Little Girl pissing herself. Her eyes closed, her legs parted a little for comfort as the golden arc gushed from between her legs.
“I … I’m sorry,” she whispered, the shame evident in her tone.
“Are you scared,” I asked her.
“Y … yes,” she stammered her response, “V … very much.”
“And so you should be, you both fucking well should be.” I was enjoying this preamble.
“What’s the Shock Machine for?” Red was still asking questions, whereas my ashamed and already humiliated little girl was happy to wait quietly, standing in the pool of her own piss, hands still cable tied behind her back and contemplate her fate silently.
“Use your imagination girl,” I growled back at the flame-haired beauty.
“Fuck!” was all that I heard in response.
I diverted my attention to the slut. I needed to check her wounds, but first an old metal bucket filled with water from the tap was used by me to swill the piss from the stone floor.
“You dirty little cunt,” I grinned at her. “If that happens again you get to lick it up, understand?”
Nothing.
“Do. You. Understand. Me?”
The slut nodded her head.
“Good, now stand still.” I moved around her examining the welts and scars. All were healing well, and to be fair I hadn’t really hurt her with the whip last weekend, it was more about her hands.
“Did you change the dressings like I said?”
My Little Girl nodded. I knew she had because the hand bandages she wore today were clean without any trace of seepage. I knew that underneath the holes would be sealing already, congealed with clotting blood that would now be forming a scab. In a week or two, when the scabs came loose, there would be just a small round shaped scar either side of each palm, and that would be all.
I clipped the cable ties loose and allowed the slut to free her wrists.
“Is this really a good idea?” Red sounded far more than cautious; her voice showed that she was becoming really scared.
I just turned to look at her. The flame-haired friend still fully dressed as opposed to me stark naked, exposed Little Girl, dripping in her own piss.
“You can leave now if you wish Red?”
I hoped she wouldn’t go. I wanted to use her too, and the last thing my Little Girl and I needed was someone who knew what we did but wasn’t a part of it.
“No, I want to stay.” She replied quietly whilst chewing on her bottom lip.
“Good…” Red smiled weakly back at me.
“Now lay on the board.” I addressed the slut and she looked down at the long plank arranged between two small piles of bricks so that it was raised a little off the floor.
My Little Girl looked up and me, tears streaking her cheap eye makeup and she said, “Am I going to die?”
Part 12 – The Girl
In the back of his car. Under some sort of net. Like a dog. Wet, cold, half-naked.
Shivering.
Cold and wet and scared and thrilled.
I don’t mind. I want this. But I’m fucking scared.
No idea where we are. I can hear the wipers and the rain and him talking to Abi.
Stopping. I can only see the rain through the back window.
He opens the boot.
She’s there.
He calls me a cunt. Tells me to get out. OK. I do.
Tells her to undress me. I look at her. We’re in some public place. Like a campus or hospital or something. But that’s in the distance. Here it’s like an old abandoned factory or warehouse or something. I think this is the place.
She doesn’t want to undress me.
But she does. That’s good. I like it. The rain on me. Behind the building. But it’s fucking cold.
They leave me there. I begin to think. What will he do to me? I’m so scared.
Eventually he drags me in.
It’s like a cellar.
I can see the things he has ready. We both can. Abi sees it. She says it. Waterboarding.
Waterboarding. Images in my mind. He can kill me doing that. He can hurt me and terrify me and there won’t be any marks.
Apart from where he ties me down.
Those will mark.
Then the other stuff.
Fuck. He’s going to electrocute me. I can’t help it. I feel my piss running down my legs. So fucking frightened.
But so fucking excited.
This is really going to hurt. I so want this. I want to hurt so much. But I’m scared. I think I don’t want to die. Not here.
Abi’s scared. He tells her she can leave. She says no. I’m relieved, I so want her with me.
He didn’t tell me that I could leave.
He tells me to lie down.
I am really shit scared. It’s for real. I thought I was imagining but it’s for real. And it will start so soon. And it will be awful and I am so fucking scared.
I’m on the board. I look up at him, look up at Abi.
I’m crying. I can’t help it. My belly is like lead. My heart is trembling. I’m so, so scared.
I’m going to be helpless. Just like I wanted. I’m going to hurt so much. He can do what he likes.
I’m scared. ‘Am I going to die?’ I ask him. I don’t want to die. I just want to hurt. I really want to hurt. Naked and helpless and hurting. I want it so much.
But I’m so fucking scared…
Part 13 – The Guy
She was scared, my Little Girl. I mean really scared. I had never seen her eyes so filled with terror … terror and tears.
Her simple words “Will I die?” were bordering on being heart- breaking, even to me, her torturer.
“Please, Sir, don’t do this …” Red was still pleading for her friend, her lover … and she called me ‘Sir’ in her desperation to appeal to my common sense. But this scene transcended common sense, it transcended anything at all …
“Yes, I believe you will, Little Girl,” was all I said in response to the slut’s question. I had already tied thick string around the slut’s neck, securing her to the wooden plank, and was currently busy tying the same binding around her ankles. She made no movement to get up, despite my fatalistic reply, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she had struggled, because she was already bound to the board. As the slut whimpered, I looked down at the Cross Brand near to her mound. I fingered it, touching the healing mark …
“You will always be mine Little Girl.”
The whimper turned into a groan, or did I imagine that?
I might well have imagined the slut’s groan, but the moan that came from behind me was very real, and caused me to look round especially when I heard the thud that went with it.
I stared at Red, who was crumpled on the dusty floor. Her eyes were open but she looked dizzy, dazed almost …
“You can’t kill her?” It was a question not a statement and as such needed no response.
I continued to bind the slut. Completing the ankle tie I moved to the tops of her thighs. I wrapped several lengths of the twine around her thighs, right at the very top, pulling them together, before tying her wrists and knotting each wrist rope with the twine around her thighs, securing her hands by her side. I then took the binding and wrapped it under her legs but around the wood. The resultant look was very aesthetically pleasing, and as I stood my pleased expression most probably showed that was the case.
Kneeling once more, the last tie had gone around my Little Girl’s knees, and now she was immovably secured to the long wooden plank that was raised from the ground by a small stack of bricks and concrete pieces at either end, with the ‘foot’ end being raised higher so that any excess water from the ‘Boarding would run up her face and into her nose.
I looked back round at Red, who was now kneeling, her jacket and sweater removed to reveal a skimpy blue vest top.
“Do you want to kiss her Red?” I asked. If my intonation made it sound like the offer was for them to engage in a final kiss then that had been my intention. With a sob her flame-haired friend crawled over to my slut and, placing a gently hand on her cheek, she lowered her mouth until their lips touched. Then she kissed my Little Girl, who kissed her back.
“Move away,” Finally, after watching them embrace, I issued my orders to Red, and she did. The room was flickering and cast with
large shadows from the candles, which, unless the automatic bulb was on, which it wasn’t, the candles were the only light we had. We had no indication of night or day outside, rain or shine … it was like being inside a Pharaoh’s tomb …
The slut was visibly shaking, and she had clenched her fists in an effort to control her tremors. Red had moved away and was now backed up against the wall, watching everything unfold …
“And now we begin,” I said, maybe a little overdramatically.
I wrapped a cloth tightly under my Little Girl’s head and then around her face so that she was forced to breathe through the coarse material. The shape of her open nose and mouth was clearly defined under the fabric.
Stripped down to my tee shirt, with my free hand I picked up the plastic jug filled with water from the nearby metal bucket, also filled with water, and began to pour.
It flowed in a clear, thin stream over the cloth and for a long moment nothing happened. Then, with a sudden gasp, my Little Girl released the breath she’d been holding and inhaled the water.
She choked violently, her limbs convulsing, her head shaking from side to side in a frantic attempt to deny the liquid access to her mouth.
“Jesus,” I heard Red muttering. “This is unbearable.” I turned my head briefly to look around but the girl with the long flame hair kept on watching.
On and on I poured. Glancing at the mobile phone at my side away from the water pour … I knew how long each application of water would last. After exactly twenty seconds, I stopped.
Peeling back the cloth my slut stared wide eyed at the ceiling. She couldn’t draw breath, and when her eyes began to bulge I immediately pushed her face to the side so that she could vomit the liquid contents of her stomach away from her body.
“Fuck this, you have to stop, please stop.” But Red’s pleading only spurred me on, and her plea efforts were somewhat diluted given that she made no attempt to move away from her vantage point.
Leaning into my Little Girl, and with an almost gentle touch, I smoothed the wet hair out of her eyes, tucking it back behind one ear. The slut was still shaking, the fear showing in her face.
My Little One held her breath as I stroked her breast, enjoying the feel of her wet, hard nipple. I could tell that it wasn’t a conscious decision but an instinct, her body saying, ‘no you cannot let this happen to you’. But she could only hold it so long, and of course I knew that. I also knew that by pausing like this, waiting for her to inhale, increased the mental anguish and the ultimate impact.
When, finally, my Little Girl drew a breath, a great gasping inhalation of the air her body was screaming for, it wasn’t air she sucked in but water. I decanted the second pouring with perfect timing. Water filled her throat and lungs like cement, and with it would come a bolt of pain that would only made her gasp for yet more air. And there was none, only more water.
Her lungs would be exploding and the pressure between her ears would be immense. It would be like that moment when you swam underwater as far as you could and realised you had to get to the surface, fast. But here there was no surface.
Then I reached my time and abruptly, the flow of water ceased. I peeled away the cloth again and for a moment I thought it was too late, that she was going to lose consciousness. But then, with a massive effort from within her heaving chest, she forced herself to fight for air.
Spluttering and gasping, turning her head herself this time, the slut once more vomited up what was in her lungs, the water spluttering out of her in a fountain, and she was alive.
There were no words, but she sobbed, hard, an action that only used up more energy and breath.
“And now again,” I heard myself saying. As my Little Girl shook her head violently in mute protest, I tightened the cloth over her face once more, waited for the inevitable inhalation and I poured again. This time for longer.
Her body shook …
I kept on pouring …
Her hips convulsed, thrusting up as far as the binding would allow her …
I tightened the cloth and continued to pour.
My cock was hard, my heart was racing. I had never been this consumed by lust before, ever!
Her head tried to pull away from the cloth …
But I held it firm, over her face and kept on pouring …
She mewed, and choked, and writhed like a fish in her bondage.
But I only pulled the material even tighter, pushed some of it directly into her mouth, and tipped even more water onto her face.
My Little Girl’s struggles slowed, her chest stopped heaving, her body ceased it’s lascivious squirming … the cloth over her face was rendered motionless …
… And this time she died.
Part 14 – The Girl
He’s tying me. Tight. I like it. My feet slightly higher than my head. Tight. I like being tied tightly.
I’m not thinking about what’s to come. But I am.
I’m humming Lana Del Ray in my head…’Got my bad baby by my heavenly side/I know if I go I’ll die happy tonight.’
She kisses me.
‘Kiss me hard before you go/Summertime sadness.’ I kiss her. I love her.
‘And now we begin’ he says.
I am fucking scared.
But I want this too. Too much.
My sight is swallowed by a cloth. Held tight. I know what’s next. But I don’t.
Wetness clings tight to me. Filling my nose and mouth. So? I think.
More. More than I can imagine.
More.
I hold my breath. I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t think. FUCK!
Free! I can hardly gasp. Fuck. I’m puking water. Fuck! Shit. Back. More.
I want. I fucking don’t. I want to stop. I don’t!
I want to fucking breathe!
My cunt hurts.
I feel so fucking hot.
I can’t fucking breathe!
I’m shaking! Every bit of me. Fuck I love this.
I hate this!
So fucking much. Puke!
Again. Back again.
Fuck! My head hurts. Everything hurts. I can’t see anything.
Fuck.
‘Honey, I’m on fire, I feel it everywhere/Nothing scares me
anymore…’
Fuck…I can’t fucking breathe. Fuck…fuck…
fuck…
I’m drowning. I’m fucking drowning. My chest hurts. My head hurts. I’m drowning. It hurts… It hurts…
I’m electric. I’m so fucking beautiful… fuck….
He likes me weak. He likes me imperfect… then I’m so beautiful.
I’m so beautiful…
I hurt.
I don’t
I hurt.
Swimming. Sun. Kisses… kisses… kisses…
kisses…
Part 15 – The Guy
I heard the vomiting, choking sound behind me and I turned to see Red puking in a corner. That would smell, I needed to swill it away, just as soon as I had brought my Little Girl back to life.
“Bring me the defib now Red!” I shouted my command whilst slitting the twine ties around the slut’s neck.
“Now!” I repeated as I reached into the nearby accessories bag to retrieve the ‘Oxygen Plus’ cannisters.
“You fucking … k … k … killed her!” Red was incredulous, but yet she knew what she was looking at was real.
“The defibrillator now Red, or you friend really will die.”
I tipped the slut’s head back, stretching her neck and opening her airwaves. I placed the small mask over her mouth, pinched her nose and released the oxygen in five small bursts into her. This was better than ‘a kiss of life’, more oxygen … more quickly.
“Has she had a … heart attack, Mister?”
Still calling me Mister, still no names … I smiled to myself.
“No Red, she hasn’t, her breathing was stopped due to the lack of oxygen to her brain. A minute or two more and we could be causing brain damage so we need to …”
“We?” Red interjected. I laughed again.
Connecting the pads to dry parts of my Little Girl’s chest I clicked and released. Her nubile and used body bounced away from the wood as far as the remaining ties would allow. “But this shock will have her heart pumping the right levels of blood with pretty much immediate effect.”
I repeated the jolting shock.
In seconds the slut was retching, and coughing, spluttering out what looked like gallons of water, but really wasn’t. I held her head to the side so that her air passage remained unobstructed and stroked her cheek as she began to cry.
She was alive … and ready for more! I stood and looked at Red.
“Go swill that puke you disgusting cunt,” I said with aggression to the friend.
“Don’t call me that, please.”
“Just fucking do it, and take a drink from one of those energy drink cartons I brought. Get rid of the taste from your mouth.”
I heard the water swill and she drank and then she stood looking at me … waiting.
“Strip …” I ordered.
“Are you gonna ‘Board me too?” She asked, her words intoned in part with fear and in further, maybe more, part with excitement.
Whilst being characteristically different, they really were two of a kind, my Little Girl and her flame haired friend.
“Maybe,” I responded, “Now get your clothes off.”
I turned my position to watch, as, nodding at me, Red pulled her thin blue vest top over her head and off, letting it float to the floor. Short work was made of the matching blue bra and, toeing off her shoes, she wriggled provocatively out of her jeans. Facing me wearing only black lace panties, I nodded at her and she wound them down to leave her standing facing me totally, gloriously naked.
Stretching her arms high, she ran her hands through her hair, accentuating her breasts and posture …
Fuck, she was physically beautiful in every way, perfectly statuesque …
Goddess like, almost.
“Come here,” I gave Red her next instruction. She moved to stand over both the slut and I as I knelt by her side. There were no windows in this place and the shadows from candles cast an eerie gloom over our vignette.
I was achingly erect, my cock now sporting a permanent hard-on. I needed satisfaction, and soon. But not quite yet.
I took the large bulbous ended wand and passed the plug socket end to Red. “Go plug this in …”
A still coughing Little Girl looked up at me with wide eyes. “Did I die?” She asked.
I nodded, “Yes my sweet slut, you did. But we saved you.”
She smiled with a dreamy, docile look on her face. “Thank you,” she whispered, and then she grunted as I shoved the wand between her thighs, forcing the large object into the gap that wasn’t there. But pushing hard I was able to open her thighs enough to secure the wand in place and then slide it upwards so that it forced its malevolently intended way into her pussy, her swollen labia enveloping around the head, sucking it in.
“Kneel by her pussy, Red, and do as I say.” She moved into position as I moved back to my slut’s head.
“Massage her clit.” I smiled as the friend’s fingers moved to my Little Girl’s slit and began to tease the hardening little nub that was surfacing above the bulbous wand head.
The slut groaned and began to squirm, pushing into Red’s touch. I retied new twine around her neck, just as tightly as before, and picked up the still wet cloth. Dropping it onto the Little One’s face I left it a few seconds and then removed it, to see her gasp for air, her breathing now impacted by her response to Red’s ministrations and the wet cloth restricting her oxygen supply.
“Switch on the wand Red.”
“Fuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkk!” My Little Girl stiffened and pushed her groin into the vibrating intruder. A wonderfully delicious sight.
“Now leave her cunt to the wand, it will stay in place on its own, and play with her breasts, use your mouth and fingers, make them hurt, make the slut cry out.
And she did. Squeezing the Little Girl’s teats in between her fingers and thumb, biting them … the slut was clearly confused as to which sensation to focus on, the pleasure or the pain. But then, as, in her semi orgasmic state of subspace, she gasped for breath, exhaling a loud groan, and that was my cue to tighten the cloth around her face and pour more water over her masked features.
This time her agony was ecstasy. I could see a complete outline of her pretty face clearly plastered to the soaking wet fabric as she writhed to the wand, squirmed to Red’s painful touch and struggled to breathe at all.
I took away the cloth and she gasped, shaking her wet hair from side to side like a dog. She cried out something completely unintelligible, which was a waste of energy and oxygen, because I immediately tightened the cloth once more and pulled it, stretching it to its maximum before pouring water on her face again.
“She’s cumming,” It was Red’s voice, quiet and understated, but correct in its statement. My Little Girl was indeed enduring a climax. Her blotched skin, the intensity of her thighs, trembling, pushing inwards at the vibe.
And so I released the cloth and enjoyed the sight before me of the slut’s wide eyes, her raised head and her completely rigid body forcing out the orgasm that was running amok inside her naked, bound and abused body …
And she screamed so loudly that I was sure someone would hear us … but there was no one around and so the slut’s loud, plaintiff yells went completely unappreciated by anyone but Red and I …
Part 16 – The Girl
Fuck! I’ve been kicked in the tits! What the fuck!
Shit.
I’m fucking being sick.
Shit!
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck! I’m alive. I think…
FUCK!
I think I’m alive. I ask him. He says yes. Fuck. So I guess he can do it some more I think. I know he will.
I blink.
My face is covered with whatever. Spittle. Vomit. My eyes are full of water.
I can see her. Naked. Her fingers in her hair. Red hair. So fucking gorgeous.
Something in me.
Between my legs. So…
Shit.
Good!
So… fucking sweet.
So…
Oh my fucking god!
So…
Jezus I want this so much. So much! She’s touching me. This thing. FUCK!
“Fuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkk!”
Kissing my tits. Biting. I fucking love her. Shit it’s hurting. Fuck!
He’s going to do it again. YEEES!! I want him to!
Water.
Can’t breathe.
Feel my body losing control. Bouncing. Cunt burning. SO FUCKING
AMAZING!!!
Fucking hell! Where the hell am I? I’m lost! FUCKING HELL!
SO FUCKING GOOD!
I’m bouncing!
I’m so out of control!
I love this sooo much!
I’m drowning. I’m coming! Soooo good! Soooo good!
Blink my eyes open. Look at my hard, messy fucked up body. Look at her beautiful fucking body. FUCKING LOVE HER!
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!!! Yeaaaaaaaaaah!
Stars and fireworks and every bloody thing and the best fucking orgasm ever in my whole fucking life!
Fucking amazing beautiful fucking Abi! Fucking amazing beautiful fucking thing!
I never want this to stop. I want this soooo fucking much!
Part 17 – The Guy
Both girls looked across at me and I nodded. My Little Girl grinned and, despite her hands still being bandaged, she began a slow crawl towards her lover …
After the Waterboarding orgasm that the slut had endured/enjoyed I had freed her from the wood.
For a long time she had just laid in whimpering heap, unmoving, eyes closed. The life taken from her once more, at least metaphorically speaking, by the intensity of the climax combined with the ‘Boarding and the vibe. Too many sensations, a myriad of complexity that is too hard to process and too all-consuming to rationalise. So, she just lay there.
She looked stunning, the slut … my beautiful Little Girl. Her heaving chest, the marks of the twine adorning her body.
The candles were flickering now as they wore down. There was no phone signal down here but the phone’s clock still worked, and so having picked them up at 1pm, and driven straight here, we had been ‘in the scene’ for over 4 hours already.
The intensity had taken its toll.
I looked over at where Red sat with her back to the cold wall, her jacket placed over her shoulders.
Her eyes too were closed. This session, hot on the heels of the woodland last week, had been too much for her. She looked exhausted, as, of course, did the slut.
And so, feeling the strain on my fifty-eight year old body, I too had taken the time to rest up. Don’t get me wrong, I was rampant and desperate to fuck them both, certainly the need to release my juices was becoming all consuming. But activities such as this take their toll on me as well, and so I had snatched some rest, before distributing energy drinks all round from my bag. The vigour inducing drinks were very welcome if the guzzling that ensued was anything to go by!
But now we were back at it. And so, as my Little Girl crawled over towards her lover, her flame-haired friend, I reached down inside my jeans. flipped the button and pulled down the zipper, to take hold of my rock-hard cock, making sure they could see me slowly stroking myself.
Red looked up and smiled as my Little Girl approached, pendulous breasts swinging, lips being chewed, eyes heavy with lust …
“Baby I’m so sorry,” Red begged so delightfully, in such a heart rendering manner, for forgiveness from the slut, presumably for aiding and abetting the extreme action that had been doled out thus far.
“Shhhhh,” replied my Little Girl, and moved her finger to Red’s mouth, before she kissed her lover’s face all over … nose, cheeks, ears, neck and her soft, swollen lips.
And then they were locked in passionate embraces, open-mouthed, tongues engaged … kissing, their hands all over one another and it made me groan … out loud.
At that instant, they both broke off their kiss and looked straight down at my hand, planted firmly in my jeans.
Momentarily the scene in the warm basement froze, but when I started to move my hand again, with their eyes gazing at me, the slut looked me in the eye and said …
“Take it out, all the way, your cock …” she urged me to expose my erection and I happily obliged by divesting myself of my jeans, and then sat back in a comfortable position, putting one hand behind my head. Closing my eyes, I openly masturbated for them.
With a glance out of one eye, I saw them still watching me.
“You taking pity on a poor old man?” I grinned at them, my speech a little ragged as my juices began to rise up from my balls.
The slut and Red both laughed, and as my eyes flickered open I saw them, staring at my fist which was rhythmically stroking my fully erect cock, before I once again, closed my eyes to become lost in my own world of extreme fantasy.
I heard and sensed them, as they moved towards me, and I felt a hand on top of mine. Deft fingers moved in rhythm with my own, wanking me, jerking me off …
Fuck, it felt so good … my hand guiding the touch, varying the speed up and down the rigid length of my erection.
Another hand joined the first and then my balls were cupped and fondled. Another groan, a loud whimper, fuck this felt so good. So damn good!
Overwhelmed by the sensation I let out a moan and took my hand away, leaving them with free range to do whatever they wanted. Opening my eyes, I watched as the slut and Red slowly stroked my cock, fondling it, moving the primary attention alternately between them. I felt a tongue, sensed warm breath, then I was swallowed … oh fuck, ohhhhh yessss.
I came. Fuck, I came so hard. A brief glance showed me that it was Red who had claimed my seed, and she sucked me completely dry. Oh, how she sucked me.
After my convulsive, groin thrusting climax had dissipated, and my cock was left dripping with residual juice, I looked on while my slut and her flame-haired friend locked mouths and clearly swapped my semen from one to the other …
Mutual chuckling followed their synchronised swallowing and then they were back focused on each other.
They moved together and the slut pressed Red to the floor, pushing her breasts against hers, kissing her lips, hopefully tasting me again, pushing her thigh in between her friend’s legs.
I had no idea whether either of them had been with a girl before they met one another, but the action here was hot enough for sure.
Red lay under the eager, straddling form of my Little Girl, as the slut reached under her lover’s body to explore the curves of her ass.
As their coupling became more urgent, I watched Red reach up and slide her fingers between welcoming lips after first stroking the smooth cheek nearby. Teeth nipped and they both groaned with what was so obviously mutual desire …
Red gasped and braced herself for the touch of the slut’s soft fingers as they circled under and around the bottom of her ass cheeks and, lifting one leg, teased her open slit.
Moving deftly down her friend’s body, my Little Girl slid her tongue over Red’s swollen labia causing her to whine in response, her naked body trembling. The slut followed up with a long digit sliding into the crack of her lover’s ass, prodding at the small rose-like hole while she swirled her tongue on Red’s clit, which was no doubt, by now, engorged to bursting!
So obviously desperate for release, Red pushed her groin into the slut’s face, and rubbed her swollen slit against my Little Girl until she spasmed and cried out in a loud, body shaking climax.
She came hard, throwing back her head and causing a conflagration of flame-like hair to cascade through the air. Stunning!
I was grinning as they lay in a satiated heap of nubile female flesh.
“That was fun!” My Little Girl commented as she stroked Red’s lustrous hair comfortingly.
“Is everything okay?” She asked Red.
“Yes, very okay,” her friend confirmed with a deep breath and a quick glance in my direction.
We had all enjoyed a release of our pent-up lust and now it was time to continue the scene. I re-clothed myself and stood up.
Moving a larger piece of darker wood into position, similar piles of bricks supporting either end, I looked at Red.
“Lay down on it,” I instructed her.
Her eyes widened, and at the same moment my slut began to provocatively chew at her bottom lip.
“Are you going to …” she asked, but I nodded and replied “Yes,” before she could finish her sentence.
There was no dissent from the taller girl as she untangled herself from the slut and lay on the wood as instructed. I tied her in a very similar manner to the way in which I had secured my Little Girl. Red’s pussy was swollen and puffy and was superbly highlighted between the tight tie of the twine around her thighs. Each girl now had a bed of wood that they could call their own, and the place where the slut ‘died’ would not become sullied by someone else’s suffering.
“The Glass jug please,” I held out my hand to position this ‘other’, more ornate jug nearby as I pulled the cloth tightly underneath Red’s head.
My Little Girl knelt nearby with a prime view of what was about to happen.
Red whimpered, tears in her eyes, fear on her face. Her final words to me before I stretched the cloth over her face were, “I don’t want to die, please don’t let me die …”
I laughed and began to pour.
Part 18 – The Girl
‘I’m so sorry’ she said.
No reason to be sorry I though. I loved everything…’shhhhh’
I’m with her. I am close to her. I love her.
I’m kissing her.
Her lips her face her mouth her ears… her lovely soft ears… Kissing her. She’s so sweet. So soft. I love her so much.
My hands on her. Her hands on me. On my belly, on my tits. Fucking gorgeous girl.
He’s wanking himself off. Looking at us. Sweeeeet!
We both know. We both touch him, kneel, slide our tongues over him. Up, down, coming…coming.
Into our mouths.
Our smiles linked by a string of cum. Smiling. He’s done. We smile so much. We laugh.
And then pull each other close again. Kissing, feeling, touching so deeply.
Slower and faster and gasping and bodies sliding.
Fuck I love her.
I love her for ever.
I love her so so much.
Her cunt in my face.
Pumping my mouth.
We slide apart. Slowly. Smile. That was good. OK?
Very OK…
I know she is. She’s perfect.
Her body heaving.
Gasping.
She can’t stop now. I can feel her body coming. So fucking amazing. I can only ever have loved this girl… drowning in her gorgeousness, in her sweet red hair.
Fuck I love her!
He sets up another bench. I know what for.
Abi knows what for.
This is what we came for. And now I get to watch.
Watch her tortured. My lovely lovely girl.
Watch her wretch and gasp and thrash in her bonds. I’m so fucking excited.
I get him the water.
‘I don’t want to die….’ she says. He can kill her like he killed me.
She knows that.
She sort of wants it too, I know…
I don’t mind if he does kill her as long as he kills me too. But not with the water. It’s too easy. Too soft.
I know we want to hurt if he’s going to kill us.
We want to hurt. She wants to hurt.
It’s what we want. We don’t care about dying. We all die. We want to hurt and we want him to hurt us.
We want him to make us bleed.
It’s quiet. So very quiet. I’ve no idea how long we’ve been here. But I know that there’s time. Plenty.
Time for him to board her.
Time for him to torture us both.
More.
Make us hurt.
More. Because we know each other now. And we know what we are. And we know what we want.
We want to hurt. To feel pain. To be objects. To not own our own bodies. To be his. To torture. To kill if he wants.
And now he starts… Slowly.
Pouring.
I wish I was her and it was happening all over again….
I have so much love for her. I have infinite love for her…. I stroke her face so gently as he starts…
I wish I was her…. She’s so fucking beautiful…
Part 19 – The Guy
The last thing I noticed before securing the cloth tightly over Red’s pretty face was how she appeared to have no resistance left in her. It looked like all she wanted to do was sleep.
But sleep was not on the agenda!
I held the material face cover tightly in my fist and let the water come, in droplets first of all, but then in a steadying flow and finally a stream that was directed over the outline of Red’s nose and mouth.
The flame-haired girl was silent, though her body was squirming, performing a writhing desperate dance. The twine held her tightly, digging into her flesh, allowing only her knees to raise away from the wooden board, and her groin to convulse.
Red’s swollen pussy looked peachy perfect, crying out for attention.
I released the cloth and Red sucked in a huge gasp of air, still unable though to say anything coherent because of the water that had been … and was probably still … streaming down her throat.
I looked at my Little Girl and smiled. She smiled back. I loved her … I knew that now. That was the word for it. A strange love, I accepted that fact, but it was love nonetheless.
I waited for Red to inhale again and then, with perfectly evil timing, I closed the wet material over her features and poured once more. What the friend had anticipated was going to be oxygen, wasn’t. There was no oxygen to be had, just water and then … more water.
Once more she became a frantic eel-like creature, unable to cry out, being left instead with agitated squirming as her only demonstrative option.
The board was angled, her head on the downward slope so that no water escaped without running over her face. Her firm, tattoo decorated breasts were riding higher on her chest, a fact that was clearly of no concern as I slowly took the life out of her.
“Pl … pl … please …” She gasped as the fabric peeled away from her lips. It was all she could say before I tightened the towel again and poured the water for a third time.
“The wand slut, give me the wand.”
The instrument was placed into my hands and without delay I pushed the vibe between Red’s thighs. She arched as much as she could, pushing her body into the intrusive phallus and her face into the cloth.
Beautiful.
“Pour more water,” I issued my instruction handing the jug over to my Little Girl.
She obeyed and, if anything, she over-poured as I fucked Red mercilessly with the wand, pushing it hard into her cunt.
As her struggles began to diminish, I removed the cloth, but then in replacement of it, and after a brief time so that she could take a small breath, I closed my hand tightly around her neck and began to move the vibe in a circular motion, pushing it hard into her body.
“F … fuck … fuck. …” Red was trembling, babbling incoherently, cursing wonderfully …
She arched again, her head thrown back off the wood … and she came …
I looked at the Little Girl. She was watching with a degree of intensity as the climax overtook her lover. Red writhed in climactic ecstasy, and as she did I left the wand squeezed tightly in place between her thighs, put the cloth back over her face and poured more water.
This was too much for the red-haired girl. I knew it would be. She needed to gasp, to inhale, to manage her orgasm … but now she couldn’t, yet she had to keep trying … that was what the orgasmic reflex made happen.
Red gagged and choked and shook her head frantically, but in an ever-decreasing manner.
“She’s drowning right?” My Little Girl in a plain and simple, matter- of-fact kind of way.
“Yes, she is. Should we let her die?” I asked.
“Yes,” my Little Girl replied, without hesitation. Her response shocked me a little.
“Are you sure?” I checked.
“Yes, I am,” she replied with equal certainty.
And so, I did. I kept on pouring and, as I did, the most surprising thing happened. The slut, ignoring the death throes of her friend and lover, moved to me and, touching my cheek, turned my face her way, and kissed me. It was a long passionate kiss, open mouthed, desire fuelled … love filled? Maybe it was, certainly that was the case from my side.
By the time we broke free of our embrace Red was dead. Her beautifully ornate body was prostrate … unmoving … completely still. No chest heaving, no breathing, no pulse. Her breasts were still firm, her nipples remained hard and her pussy was just as swollen as it was when we started this. But she moved no more. Mortem had descended upon her.
I made as if to stand and fetch the Oxygen and the defibrillation machine. But the slut put her hand on mine.
“Leave her,” she said simply. And then she kissed me again. Her hand moved to the re-forming bulge at my groin and she gripped it through my jeans. I pushed into her touch as she began to move her fingers along the shrouded length.
Fuck, this felt so good … but … the friend had passed …
So damn good as she massaged her thumb around the swollen head …
But … Red was dead.
So, fucking good … it felt sooooo …
“No,” I gasped pulling away, “We can’t kill her.” I stared at the slut, who stared back at me, a smirk on her face.
“I win,” she remarked.
What the fuck! Did we just play the highest staked game of chicken ever, with Red’s life the prize?
Fuck! Fuckkkkk! Would she really have let her friend die?
I had no time to think this through any further, getting the ‘Oxygen Plus’ into Red’s body was now of Paramount Priority.
“You gonna Defib her as well?”
I nodded as the fifth jet of Oxygen squirted into the dead girl’s body.
Two jolting shocks later and Red was puking up water and sobbing her heart out. I saw the slut smirk at me. She was more fucking crazy than I knew … and that thought made me love her even more!
******
The friend sat shivering in a corner of the room. It was a couple of hours since she had been boarded, and subsequently ‘died’, but still she said nothing. The slut sat next to her, naked still, with her arm around her friend and lover’s shoulders, cradling Red’s exhausted also naked frame on the comforting surface of her breasts.
I stood looking down on them, my Little Girl looked up at me. She knew … she expected … there was more to come.
“Get up,” my command was brief, assertive and to the point. With a hard swallow the slut carefully manoeuvred Red’s tired head away from her chest and got to her feet.
“And you,” I indicated Red. The flame-haired friend looked up at me through heavy eyelids.
“Now!” I ordered, and so she stumbled, with the aid of the wall, to her feet.
This was the finale. It hadn’t been a part of my initial plan but the idea came into my perverted mind as we rested following Red’s ‘Boarding. The thought made my cock hard, it had to happen.
“Sit, here.” I looked at the slut who nodded and moved to the spot indicated before sitting down on the dusty, dirty floor.
I took the rough, thin twine I had been using and, tied her wrists to her thighs. I stood back to admire, pleased with the aesthetics of my work.
“The wand Red, please.” I held out my hand and in a second or two, the friend, who was coming round now, placed the large tool in my palm.
I knelt and slid the bulbous end between her thighs and underneath the slut’s body. She grunted as the sizable head sunk between her labia. Due to her seated position and the fact that all of her weight was pushing down onto the wand it slipped inside her, opening her slit, invaded her cunt. Now the grunt became a moan … just wait until I switched it on!
“The bag, Red. That plastic one there.” I indicated the clear plastic bag in which the two ‘Oxygen Plus’ canisters had been packaged. It was large and still intact.
“Oh fuck, no …” The words of despair came from my little girl as she realised my intention, and so with a little help from Red, I placed the bag over the slut’s head. Getting her friend to pull it down tight I wrapped reams of black duct tape around her neck, securing the bag firmly in place, the seal around my Little Girl’s head now intact, completely unbroken.
Then, taking Red’s hand we stood back to look down upon the little vignette.
Already my Little One’s eyes were wide and the plastic was being frantically sucked into her mouth as the bag sealed itself around her face. Her head shook as she was overcome with anguish. This was taking her more quickly towards death than the waterboarding had done and she knew it.
My slut mewed and writhed, and fell to one side. I laughed and moved to pick her up again. Taking a new piece of twine I fastened it around her neck and tied it off above her head, meaning that now she couldn’t topple over. This was essential for the next part of my plan.
I stood back once more with Red as we watched the slut’s body struggles become less and her fight to stay alive diminish. The plastic was now plastered to her face and she would have no oxygen at all.
“Is it going to happen this time Mister?” the friend asked.
“What, you mean am I going to let her die?”
Red nodded, “Both of us Mister, is that your plan?”
She sounded pretty fatalistic about the possibility which made me smile.
“No, it’s not …” I responded and moved to where the slut was fading fast. Taking my small knife I made a slit in the bag at the top of her head. It wasn’t a large opening by any means, but it was enough to allow air into the seal. And my Little Girl began to gulp it in, though it was more of a small suck as opposed to a mouthful!
Laughing at her efforts to regain her life’s breath, I took out my cock and held it to the gap. Positioning my pee hole to the opening I began to piss into the bag.
“You have to drink it slut … unless you want to drown in my piss that is …”
Now the slut shook her head even more frantically.
“What the fuck Mister?” Red was staring wide eyed as the green liquid of my urine filled the bag over the slut’s head, the level rising to her chin, then her mouth and her nose and …
Wide eyed, panicking and still shaking her head – the neck twine held her upright – my Little Girl opened her mouth and began to lower the level by swallowing the urine …
And now I switched on the vibe …
The slut continued to swallow, she had to, but her whole body went rigid as the wand bit into her the sensitive flesh between her thighs. She moved on the vibe and as I looked down, I saw the flesh of her taut stomach rippling with stimulated movement.
Fuck … this was turning me on, making me hard. I needed release.
“On your hands and knees Red.” She looked first at me and then at the floor, but she knew what I wanted and she took up the required position.
We were facing my struggling, almost orgasmic, slut. And so, as I fingered Red until she was moist and writhing under my touch, we
could watch the Little Girl drink my piss and squirm herself towards the inevitability of her climax.
“FucccckkkK!” I groaned, as, gripping the tattooed girl’s hips, I thrust into her pussy from behind. She was tight and warm and wet, and the way she responded suggested that she wanted this as much as I did.
I fucked her hard and fast and deep … and as my slut drank enough urine to free first her nostrils and then her mouth, I fucked Red even deeper.
Then I came …
And under the ministration of my fingers wrapped around her body, Red came too.
To complete the unholy Trinity, and with perfect timing, my Little Girl, now breathing again, unloaded her orgasm over the large wand at exactly the same moment …
For many minutes we cried out, groaning our mutual release, filling the air with the ecstasy of our perversions.
But then …
The room went eerily silent save for the ongoing buzz of the still active vibrator, and the panting of Red underneath me. We had
collapsed to the floor once the convulsions of my groin had stopped pumping my seed into her beautiful nubile body.
My slut sat, unmoving except for the shallow rise and fall of her chest as her heart began to resume its normal rate.
Sliding my softening cock from the friend’s body I rose and moved to my Little Girl. Switching the vibe off she visibly relaxed.
There was a residue of piss still pooled in one corner of the bag and so, as I slit it completely open the green, smelly liquid spilled out down the slut’s body.
Then, free of the plastic confine, my Little Girl retched, turned her head to one side and puked all over the floor …
Part 20 – The Girl
And so, I’m here. Some sort of a girl. Some sort. Fucked up it seems. Cos I don’t care if I die. It seems. I just want him to hurt me. It seems.
I’m not stupid.
I’m at a good Uni in my second year of history. And I’m getting a 2:1 min. And I will do an MA. So, I’m not fucking stupid.
I don’t want to die yet. Nor does Abi.
I fucking love her,
I never knew I would. Like I never knew I loved girls like that. But I love her.
So.
I don’t want him to kill her. I want him to hurt her. Obviously. We want that.
My words. His words.
“She’s drowning right?”
“Yes, she is. Should we let her die?” “Yes,”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am,”
No, I don’t mean that I know that. I love Abi tooo much. I love her. But he can kill us both if he wants.
That’s ok. Me and her.
That’s ok
Ok?
I love her.
Shit, I hate this. Now he wants me again. Fuck I want it so much
Hurt me please
Please
He does.
Fuck. What’s he doing. Plastic Thing
Can’t fucking breathe
No way. No. Breath-fuck No
Hurt me
Fuck you, like her. Fuck me! Pleaseee
Need to be Fucked and hurt. Fuck me
Bastard
Cunt
I love her like you can’t ever know you useless old fucked up sod of a bastard. We love each other sooo much.
Abi n me.
I want to die with her you bastard. I’m fucking drinking your piss.
Can’t breathe, can’t swallow. Then.
What. The. Fuck.
I’m cumming.
He’s fucking Abi. We’re all cumming.
Bastard
I hate you
Love her You Fucker
Your Piss Hate
I love her.
I will always
Fuck you, you Bastard!
Part 21 – The Guy
From the drop-off area, we watched Red walk away, my Little Girl and I. Just before she entered the automatically opening glass doors she turned and looked back at us. She looked a little sad, maybe she felt we were abandoning her, but that wasn’t it, not at all – I knew that my Little Girl loved her more than ever. Chewing on her bottom lip, one hand slipped inside her jacket out of the cold morning air, Red gave us one of those brief, almost
embarrassed waves, the kind that only comes from a slightly raised wrists and not the arm.
It was 7:40am and we were outside the back of Leeds City Station, where the drop off point is.
“Where will she go?” I asked.
“Mine … she has my key. She will stay there and then she can go back to N-Town tomorrow night, after I have got back and we have spent a little time together.”
“Fucking … when you’re together?” I asked the far too intrusively personal question with ease.
“I hope so,” the slut replied without hesitation as we watched her flame-haired friend disappear into the station.
“You stink,” I said, a slight grin appearing on my mouth. I felt her fingers touching mine.
“Whose fault is that?” She grinned back.
******
“Are your hands okay?” I asked, seeing the slut standing from the spot where she had laid with Red, entwined in one another’s arms on a slender bed made up of their clothes.
The slut nodded, “Yes Mister, I’m all okay. Are you?” Still no names. I smiled and nodded.
She was oozing a kind of confidence that I hadn’t seen before. Like she had ‘been there and done that’, and now nothing could ever really hurt her again. She was magnificent and I loved her so much. I wanted her all to myself.
It was 6:50am according to my phone. We had been here all night. For the past few hours we had just rested, even slept a little. I stood and made my way to the top of the stone stairs, where there was a phone signal.
“Where are you going,” my Little Girl asked.
I did not reply, but instead when I reached the step where the signal arrived, I dialled the Village Hotel.
“Hi, can I book a room for tonight please, do you have a suite free?”
They did, a suite is always free. And so, after mumbling my name and giving my card details, we had somewhere to stay for today and the night. Somewhere I could have her all to myself.
I retraced my way down the hard stairs.
The slut looked up at me, head cocked, expecting some sort of comment from me.
“Okay, you and me, Little Girl, we’re staying in a hotel tonight, the same hotel as before, our hotel. I’m taking Red to the station and she’s going home, or back to your house, or wherever. You can join her tomorrow. Understand?”
It wasn’t a question but a full-blown statement. Red was heading home. My slut and I were not.
“Are we done?” Did my Little girl sound disappointed?
I smiled and nodded, “For now we are. She has had more than enough,” I nodded at Red, “… and during the night just past, you died here, you both did.”
I paused and just looked at them … beautiful them. Then added.
“We need to be careful. We need this to last and so we need to ration the fun.” I used the word ‘fun’ on purpose, because despite the extreme nature of what we were doing, they found it fun, I genuinely believed that, and I sure as hell did.
“Please Mister, just tie me and whip me once more!” She was almost pleading with me now. I shook my head in disbelief.
“You are so crazy Little One. But the answer is no …” The fact that I was able to torture her by refusing to hurt her was a strange side benefit from the outrageous and wonderful relationship I had with this girl.
I thought fleetingly of when we met in the pub for the first time … how absolutely spot on my radar had been!
“So, get your things together we need to go soon.”
She pouted. Unbelievable! She actually pouted.
I laughed.
“Come on get dressed, help me pack things up. We are leaving now.”
******
It was the same suite we had the last time we were here, just a week ago, when Red was also with us. Would it be the same chamber maid, the one who sorted out our spare bedding to replace the bloody stained set?
Given the expensive nature of the room, we had been able to check in pretty much on arrival, and now my Little Girl was flaked out on the bed. Eyes closed. Sleeping like the beautiful, beaten, used and abused slut that she was.
Man, she looked beautiful, even dressed again in her flowing skirt, shirt and jacket … she hadn’t bothered with underwear.
I knew that she would want me to hurt her some more when she woke, refreshed from the healing slumber, but that wasn’t why we were here. I wanted to spend some time with her. Try to get to know her a little more. I wasn’t bothered about names, I liked the anonymity to be honest, but I wondered who she was. What Uni course was she doing, where was she actually from? I stood over her and fleetingly her eyes flickered open. A weak, still-asleep, smile emanated upwards from her pretty face before her lids slowly descended once more. She was here for some tender love and care. She badly needed TLC, even if she didn’t know it herself.
Leaning in to slide my arms underneath her body, I moved her gently upwards on the duvet. Slipped off her jacket and pumps and pulled the sheet over her.
I was due home today from my ‘conference’, and so, moving out of the bedroom, I called the wife.
“Hey love it’s me … yeah all is great thanks, but look … there’s a dinner tonight … just for a *********** few of us … some new committee … so I will be home tomorrow … yeah its fine, no surgery or clinics until Wednesday … miss you too … honey … I love you.”
And it was done. My duplicitous call made. It was that easy.
“Are you joining me,” My heavy eyes slowly opened to see my slut standing naked in the doorframe leading to the en-suite bathroom of our luxurious suite.
After my call home, I had stripped to my boxers and laid down next to my Little Girl. Pausing only to briefly kiss her forehead I too had then slept. It seemed I needed the rest too, because a quick glance at the time showed me that it was now 3:30pm. We had slept for hours.
She looked a vision, all nude flesh, shaved mound and pale scars, and pretty face … and my groin stirred.
“Your hands, you took off the dressings?”
She nodded, “They feel fine, and I don’t want to have wet bandages on … you can put more on me afterwards if you want to.”
She looked at me again, her raised eyebrows beckoning.
“The tub is filled, it’s ready, and soooooo?” She asked again.
Standing with a smile and the beginnings of an erection clearly evident, I took her offered hand and we walked slowly into the bathroom …
“Come on get in, the water is just perfect!” My Little Girl had stepped right in as soon as we reached the white frothy covering of bubbles coating the surface, and now she looked up beckoning me to do the same.
And so, slipping off my shorts, noticing the slut glance fleetingly at the burgeoning thickness of my shaft, I stepped forward, raised my legs one after the other, and plonked myself down, much to her squealing delight.
The oversized tub felt like it was designed for two, taps in the middle, with a nice sloped end that was perfect for me to lie back on. My Little Girl moved so that she was sitting in front of me,
my legs spread allowing her to lay back against my chest.
Eyes closed in the steamy bathroom, we were settling into the relaxed quiet. The only sounds now being the low hum of the bathroom fan. We could hear nothing whatsoever from anywhere else. Just wonderful!
I opened my eyes and thanked my lucky stars, because it had to be them, my stars, and not God, for bringing all of this to me. My Little Girl’s head rested upon my shoulder facing the ceiling, her eyes closed. Lovingly, I placed my cheek against hers, enjoying the sight and feel of her body lying against me in the water.
The moment just got even more perfect …
“Last night was magical Mister, thank you.” Her words were a whisper, and the quiet, gentle purr of satisfaction that underpinned them told me that she meant what she said, and it felt so damn good!
“It was, my Little Girl, so perfect …” She turned her face towards me and kissed me. I put all the experience of a man in his late middle- age into the embrace …
We kissed …
And we kissed …
And then we kissed some more …
With my cock now as hard as a rock I shifted my position so that my gaze could travel the length of her exposed bubble coated legs, shining with gleaming wetness and … open. My eyes continued upwards towards her pussy, partially concealed by her scarred hands as they lie across the lower part of her stomach. Her beautiful breasts, marks from before the New Year adorning them, were floating above the waterline and just that lust-laced view made me want to kiss them.
Her nipples were soaked and wrinkled, soft and pliable which made me think about what they looked like when they are rigid and erect, hardening under the lick of my tongue as I suckle on her, pierced with skewers, or twisted between the sharp teeth of a clamp. Shifting again as these desire-filled thoughts take over my mind, my hard on squashed up against her soft, smooth back.
Momentarily I focus my attention on the pale scars that she wore so willingly, marks of her captivity that redden a little when the water covers them. It’s a reminder that fuelled my lust even more …
The air in the room is almost chilly compared to the hot bath, and so I take the ornate jug, different to the ones that we had used during the ‘Boarding sessions, that is sitting on the ledge and fill it with water from the tub. I lift it and pour it slowly over her shoulder letting the hot flow chase away the chill as it runs down her arm and the front of her chest.
“Mmmmmm … ohhhhh, fuck, yes …” my Little Girl moans, “… that feels wonderful.”
Filling the jug again, I pour it over her other shoulder. I both hear and feel her sigh as my slut tilts her head even further back over my shoulder, so that I can watch the water droplets run away down her chest, circling her breasts before dripping away from her nipples. The next jug of water I pour across the top of her chest, starting from the left and moving to the right, and then I watched fascinated as a hot sheet of steaming foam infused liquid runs across her breasts.
Her nipples constrict a little, not quite hardening, but not going soft either. I wonder how the water feels on them.
The next jug full I lift high and let a slow stream fall on the top of her breasts. Slowly I guide the rivulet downward to the right. The water trail breaks into small droplets just before it hits her skin, and circles around her breast.
My Little Girl takes a deep breath, and her wet, naked body pushes against me a little harder.
“Ohhhhhh that is sooooo fucking good,” she purrs.
As I run the water in smaller and smaller circles, I am fascinated. I love how it makes her skin yield slightly with each tiny impact from the flow of water droplets. Her nipple tightening slowly, darkening … crying out for attention.
Refilling the jug when it empties just as I am at the outer edge of her areola, I repeat the same on her left breast. Her breathing is quickening now, and below the waterline I see my Little Girl’s hands first rub her stomach and then dip down between her legs as she spreads them further.
The next jug I return to the right, and the hot water is now just falling, circling, hardening her flesh, nipples now bullet like, dark and contracted. I lift the jug even higher so the droplets are impacting harder now, and I begin to direct their trajectory so that they fall constantly against her erect nipple – like a kinky version of ‘Chinese- nipple-torture’.
My slut’s fingers are moving faster, with more determination between her legs, and I see, through a convenient gap in the foamy surface, that one is holding her lips open, while the other is slowly stroking her pussy and circling around her clit. Her mouth open, breath gasping with undisguised pleasure.
I move to the other breast and, not wanting it to feel neglected, I let the water fall hard on my Little Girl’s nipple, and am rewarded with a lust-fuelled deep, low moan. My cock has been slowly getting hard watching her arousal build, and I shift slightly so that it is now pressed upwards caught between my stomach and my slut’s lower back.
My Little Girl turns her face to me once more, her eyes still closed, and we kiss again … a most definite fuck-me-this-very-minute kiss …
I put the jug down and reach for the bar of soap on the bath ledge. Running it over in my hands while our tongues dance, I soon have a thick, white lather, enabling me to coat my Little Girl’s chest until it is slick and slippery with suds.
Both hands return to her breasts, fondling, cupping and then running the flat of my palm over them. Our kisses become more intense between heavy breathing, her tongue agitated, seeking out mine, and I can feel the motion of her hands in the water becoming more intent.
My fingertips on her breasts circle her puckered nipples, and she starts to rock her hips as she finger-fucks herself. She pulls away from the kiss, throwing her head back against me and gasps.
“Oh fuck … oh my fucking gosh … ohhhhhh don’t stop…”
I pinch my Little Girl’s rock-hard nipples, and she bucks, arching her back into me. My cock is straining now, and I want to fuck her badly, but this moment right now … is all hers.
I knead her breasts, twisting, pulling, fondling, caressing knowing she’s almost there. Suddenly the slut arches up, digging the porcelain tub sides with her heels and lifts her hips up out of the water …
“Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!” she cries … it is a beautiful sound!
Her orgasm is hard and all-consuming as groans long and loud, the sloshing water splashing everywhere over the otherwise perfectly clean and tidy bathroom, two fingers deep between her soft, wet folds and the other hand furiously rubbing her clit hard enough that, to me, the avid onlooker, it looks almost painful … maybe it is, and maybe that’s what gets her off. Her hips thrust, fucking thin air, seeking more pressure, additional friction, craving the maximum pleasure … bucking hard with each wave of hot, convulsive gratification that wracks her body.
After a long, shuddering orgasm my Little Girl dropped back into the water, exhausted.
She turned to kiss me again, and our embrace is long and slow and tender as my hands rub her chest from stomach to shoulder lightly, until she relaxes.
I watch, fascinated, as her nipples slowly diminish and soften. She pulls away from the kiss, sighs deeply, and lies her head back on my shoulder again, eyes closed, breath slowing.
I close my eyes too, and feel our bodies relaxing together, listening to the faint dripping of the water in the now quiet again bathroom.
Part 22 – The Girl
“Please Mister, just tie me and whip me once more!”
I mean it. He’s asked me if I’m ok and I sort of am and I want some more. To hurt some more.
‘Mister’. I call him. Makes me sound like a kid. But I don’t want to know his name. Not now. Not ever. Just ‘Mister’.
We’ve both died. Sort of. It’s been fantastic.
We’ve both slept. So tired. It’s been fantastic.
He’s made me so alive. I’m covered in his piss still. I stink. I know.
But I don’t care.
It’s been fantastic, brilliant, beautiful. And all because Abi was here with me.
He says get dressed. We’re going. I’m pissed off. I want to stay.
I show him I’m pissed off.
I want to be hurt. I don’t want to go.
But he’s the boss and we do.
But he just wants me with him.
I kiss Abi. I whisper my secret to her.
And then she’s gone.
And I’m with him.
Back at the hotel. That same shitty hotel that he likes so much. And we sleep some more. I do.
And he comes to me. Looks at my nudity. And my lovely marks. At my hands. My lovely marked hands. My present from him.
He lies with me. He thinks I am his.
“Last night was magical Mister, thank you.”
He deserves some proper thanks.
I mean it. It was magic. And he did everything. We just let him do it. He found the place. He set up everything. He lied to his wife.
Just for us.
So, I should pay him back.
He runs the bath.
And I pay him back.
I love her. I want to be with her, in my bed with her. Fucking her. Her fucking me. Soft wet kisses in our cunts.
And as he touches me, and fondles me and pours water over me and makes me feel wonderful and sexy I am thinking of her.
Not of him.
My eyes slowly shut and she’s there.
And I love this.
And I’m so fucking hot.
And she’s there.
And I feel my whole body alive.
And I feel my tits and nipples and cunt and feel myself in myself and if he’s touching me I don’t notice because I’m with Abi and she’s touching me and making me cum.
And I fucking cum. So fucking wonderful. “Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!”
But he deserves my thanks. Thanking him for us both. Both of us opening up to him.
Kissing him.
Making him feel special.
But it’s only her who’s special.
And I slide myself into the lovely water. And I know he’s happy.
He deserves to be happy.
He’s done good.
Just like we wanted.
I’m smiling under the lovely water. Smiling. I’m with her. I want to be with her. I want us two together forever. I want us to suffer together and love our pain together.
It’s all I ever want.
And here I am.
With this guy called ‘Mister’ in some fucking hotel in Leeds. I’m a student. A pretty, ordinary girl. My Ma and Pa and sis and bro are back south and think I’m working on an essay.
I can’t ever tell them. They can’t ever know.
But I can tell them about Abi. I think they’d love that I love her.
I can’t tell them about our Mister though. Not ever.
And something will go wrong sometime, I guess. For him or us. Or us all. And then it will be …. whatever.
Stop thinking I tell myself.
Just enjoy.
Fuck. Just enjoy. And think about Abi and the next time we get him to hurt us.
Because that’s what we both want.
I’m so fucking lucky.
I’m a lucky lucky, lucky girl.
A pretty lovely sexy lucky girl…
A…
Part 23 – The Guy
“That was delicious, thank you. A perfect end to a perfect day … and night,” my Little girl said as we opened the door to the suite and fell into the small hallway.
“You look stunning,” I said to her, and I meant it, she did.
******
Bath time over and healing sleep had, we left the suite and headed into the White Rose Shopping Centre just a few minutes away. There was a slight risk attached to this because I could be spotted. But I didn’t really live anywhere near to the Centre and so, on a late Sunday afternoon the chances were slim. I would simply need to be vigilant.
“You really want to buy me clothes Mister?” My Little Girl smiled across at me from the passenger seat in the car.
“If we’re going to eat in hotel restaurant tonight,” we had a reservation in around three hours at 8pm, “… then you need something else to wear.”
“What about you?” she queried.
“Oh, I have a change of clothes, I had to pack something to validate my cover story,” I grinned in reply.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, her hand brushing over mine whilst I drove the car.
******
“Didn’t I see you sitting outside the changing rooms in Tessuti’s?”
A middle-aged woman standing in front a three way mirror asked.
“Huh?” I responded, startled from my musing, waiting for my little Girl to emerge from behind the curtain.
“I asked if that was you sitting in front of the dressing rooms down in Tessuti’s?” She asked again. “You aren’t some kind of pervert just trying to peek into the girl’s dressing rooms, are you?”
“Huh? What? NO!” I answered more than a little indignantly.
Me a pervert … how dare you? The very thought made me smile.
“I’m helping my erm … my daughter … shop for some new outfits.”
I heard a chuckle from the changing cubicle, and I had to admit to having a wry smile myself. If only this unsuspecting woman knew what we had been doing just a few hours earlier.
She nodded, and said, “Well, us girls have to look just right. I’m sure your wife is having a nice time helping your daughter.”
“No, I’m afraid it’s just the two of us. My Little Girl needs clothes for her University celebration party.” I used my pet name for the slut, but the innuendo was wasted, of course it was.
“Really? Well, I’m sure when you get home your wife will appreciate your efforts.” She said stepping back into the mirror and admiring herself again.
“Well, we’re separated, so the task has fallen to me.” “Oh, that IS sweet of you. Has she just graduated?” “From Uni, yeah.” I answered.
“Well, you are a good father.” She said stepping out of the mirror. “No, this just isn’t going to do.” The woman added, appraising the dress she was trying on and shaking her head, just as the slut appeared.
“Sorry, erm … ‘dad’ …” She over pronounced the word and then paused, her face sporting a huge grin. “Nothing seems to fit right.”
“Ok. Well, let’s go try River Island then.” I said with smile. I was enjoying seeing my Little Girl try on dresses, she looked great in everything I saw her in … but obviously not quite good enough for her own exacting standards!
The two of us headed out of Tessuti’s and over towards River Island.
“Daddy?” She looked straight ahead and laughed.
“I didn’t know what else to say,” I countered.
“You made me drink your piss to stop myself from drowning in it. You fucking crucified me naked with nails on a cross and you want to be my daddy?”
She was laughing heartily now.
“No, no fuck off, not at all. I’m so not into that,” I offered up, but her laughter was making me smile. We were chilled, she was relaxed … it was nice, in fact it was very nice.
******
She settled on a short black lace dress that fitted perfectly, and looked simply sensational. We added a fitted leather look jacket and black, high shoes. I sent her into Boux Avenue on her own to buy new underwear …
And now we sat in the restaurant at the Village. I wished we had been in private dining and I could simply fuck her on the table, because she looked ravishing.
“So, Mister, this is a bit weird to be honest.” She sat opposite me, the jacket off and the lace dress fitted perfectly around her curves. I had made myself scarce when she dressed in the suite, I wanted the pleasure of unwrapping her once our meal was over.
‘Weird? We all have to eat Little One.” I had to admit that it was the first time I had ever had dinner with someone whose name I didn’t actually know.
She slowly nodded. “And do you wanna fuck me?”
I smiled wryly. “I want you to enjoy your meal and I want to know you a little better, that’s all.”
She nodded taking another forkful of pasta between her lips. “This is fucking delicious though, I have to say.”
I laughed. “Do you always swear so much?”
“Fucking right I do!” Her answer was so quick, and so filled with smart-arse undertones that we both burst out laughing.
“What do you study at Uni?” I asked when we had calmed down.
“History.” She replied. “Second Year”
I smiled, “History? Cool. What do you intend to do with the degree when you get it?”
Forking another mouthful of Pasta in between her lips she shrugged her shoulders, “MA I guess. Stay at Uni as long as I can, saves me having to grow up, right?” She grinned at me.
I loved this Little Girl so damn much. She was already deeply embedded under my skin.
******
And so now here we were back in the suite. Giggling like school children, both drunk on wine and adrenaline.
“That was delicious, thank you. A perfect end to a perfect day … and night,” my Little girl said as we opened the door and fell into the small hallway.
“You look stunning,” I said to her, and I meant it, she did, really stunning.
“… and all for a Perfect Little daughter,” she laughed.
“Fuck no, don’t say that,” I countered.
“Sorry,” she replied, “I couldn’t resist.”
The whole daddy/daughter thing clearly didn’t suit our relationship, despite the age difference, and for that I was eternally grateful.
“Doesn’t have to be the end of the day though does it … Mister?” Her fingers slipped to the buckle on my belt and she deftly slipped the fastening free.
The button on my dark denim/cotton jeans soon followed and her fingers were tugging at my white shirt.
I turned and pushed my hardening groin into her hips. “You mean you still have the strength after what we did … or should I say, what you did in the bath earlier?”
My smirk turned into a grin as our mouths paused with the lips parted by a hair’s width, her breath warm on my face.
I moved to kiss her but my Little Girl stopped me, said, “Hold on,” and moved slowly and very provocatively over to the big double
sized window, which looked out into the securely lit car park below. Her jacket, already removed from her body, slipped from between her fingers and onto the wooden floor.
Grinning at me the slut flipped the switch on the small bedside lamp and give us just a little more light in the suite’s living room, where we now were. Then she moved back to the window and just stood there, looking out into the dark, palms to the glass, feet apart and up on her toes, silhouetted against the outside. Reaching behind her body, and without looking at me, she gripped the thin material of her dress and pulled at the fabric, raising it higher … and higher. The hem of her dress was still hiked up when she turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder.
My Little girl’s need was manifest …
I came up behind her and undid the short zipper that tightened the dress at the small of her back. Then I slipped my hands in along her ribs, under the sides of the dress, and cupped her naked breasts. I felt the hard-little buds of her nipples against my hands, and I squeezed and teased and cupped and fondled, taking great satisfaction in the sweet little sighs and moans she made.
She slid her ass, bare save for the new black lace thong, up and down along my rigid cock, and in response I pushed her against the glass, and pulled up her dress to rest on her hips.
Raising my hand, I slapped it down on her bottom, hard, very hard. And she yelped delightfully.
“Fuck, yes, please …” she purred.
So, I repeated the dose, and she gasped … it was the sound of desire. I made me smile and it made me harder still … I spanked her ass again, pushing the slut hard against the glass I hit her firm, peachy
flesh time after time, until she groaned long and loud …
“You wanna take me here, Mister? Tear off my dress? You wanna flatten my breasts up against the glass and take me from behind? You wanna fuck me while the whole car park watches?” Then she turned around and pushed herself into my arms and kissed me, her tongue on mine. Then she pulled her lips away far enough to murmur “Fuck me, now, please.”
I made short work of the remaining ties and, facing me, she let the dress fall in a graceful heap to the ground.
She really was beautiful, my Little Girl, my Slut and although my mouth opened, all I managed was a feral like growl.
Flipping her I pressed her against the glass once more as I reached down between her legs, thrusting my hand under her ass to cup her mound. I fondled her slowly for a glorious while and then slipped my finger inside the lace and into her moistening pussy.
I caressed her labia, stroked her perineum, then parted her lips and found her hardening clit peeking out from under the hood. She moaned and snaked a leg backwards around my thigh, spreading herself as far apart as she could, wanting to receive as much of my finger as possible.
My slut wanted more and so I gave her more, sliding in a second finger to join the first, before circling them together and moving the digits in and out, nice and slow.
I had her pinned up against the window pane, and I knew her breasts were flattened, squashed against the glass. Take a good look, anyone who can see. This is my Little fucking Girl, my slut … Eat your fucking hearts out!
Her juices were dripping down my fingers. “Do it, Mister,” she rasped. “Fuck me. Fuck me now. Fuck me hard! Hurt me”
It was most probably the wine … and then the extra wine … and the aperitifs … but my Little Girl was more rampant than I had ever seen before … it was like the nirvana of sexual paradise for me!
I helped the sticky thong to peel away from her swollen lips and down over the swell of her hips to in a small heap of lace as she clutched at my shirt, ripping it open and scattering buttons to the four winds.
I shrugged off my jacket and unbuckled my belt properly so she could attack my zipper. Trousers off, my naked Little girl pushed my boxer shorts down to free my cock and took it in her fist.
She wanked it slowly but firmly and licked and sucked at one of my nipples before whispering “I want it so badly, Mister. Please …”
Fine by me. I wrapped my hands around her ass, slid her upwards along the glass, and lowered her tight, dripping pussy down onto my engorged shaft, forcing a gut-level gasp from her, then moans and grunts of pleasure as I lifted her again and again and slammed her down onto my rigid erection.
She moaned “Ohhhh, FUCK … fuck me, fuckkkk meeeee!”
My Little Girl squirmed and writhed, wriggling on my cock, and I was bending at the knees to thrust myself deeper up inside her body and we were both panting, sweating, the smell of sex was strong, and she was screaming with each thrust and screaming out at me,
“YES … YES … YES … ohhhhh fuckkkkkkkk!”
Part 24 – The Girl
“That was delicious, thank you. A perfect end to a perfect day … and night.”
I mean it. I wanted to orgasm. And he helped me. And the day had been amazing. Totally. Wonderfully.
And now he wanted to buy me nice clothes. And I liked that a lot. And I loved the things we chose. I look so pretty in nice things. But then I’m a pretty girl and all pretty girls look nice in pretty things… Don’t we?
But he calls me his Little Girl. His daughter!
“You made me drink your piss to stop myself from drowning in it. You fucking crucified me naked with nails on a cross and you want to be my daddy?”
I liked everything he did. But he wouldn’t do it to his daughter, would he?
Nah.
He just wants me for a fuck toy. And that suits me fine. A nicely tortured, nicely dressed fuck toy. He deserves me.
Back at the hotel. Dressing. I love it!
And dinner.
Lucky me!
“So, Mister, this is a bit weird to be honest.” ‘Weird? We all have to eat Little One.”
“And do you wanna fuck me?”
I smile at him. My pretty smile. And I tell him about myself. Just a bit. The bits I don’t mind him knowing.
I think he thinks I love him. I know he fucking loves me. Sweet boy…
And in the room
Now for what we both want, in our different ways. He doesn’t get me yet.
And so I tell him what he knows he wants to hear.
“Doesn’t have to be the end of the day though does it … Mister?” He says I look stunning. I think I do too.
He wants me so much. And I want him to hurt me.
So I start to take things off.
Slowly.
And put the lights on.
And push myself against the window. I want to be seen. And hurt. And he comes behind me.
He can’t help himself.
And he hits me on the ass. Hard. Lovely hurt.
“Fuck, yes, please …”
I want some more. A lot.
And I will get some more. His cock there to hurt me.
“You wanna take me here, Mister? Tear off my dress? You wanna flatten my breasts up against the glass and take me from behind? You wanna fuck me while the whole car park watches?”
And he does. Course he does.
And he strips me. Fast. I turn, kiss him, let him push me against the window. Push me hard. Push me wet. Squeeze my tits against the window. The cold glass on my nipples. My face against the window. Pushing. Pushing. Fuck this is good.
“Ohhhh, FUCK … fuck me, fuckkkk meeeee!”
Yeah. This is so fucking good. Any dick, anything. In me. Don’t care. Hard as he can. Hurting me sweetly.
Fuck I am so fucked up.
Face on the glass. Tits on the glass. Palms on the glass.
Thinking of Abi and the present I’ll give her. Red roses. Thorny as possible. Without the petals. Thinking of her fucking beautiful face. Her fucking beautiful tits. Her fucking beautiful belly. Her fucking beautiful cunt.
“YES … YES … YES … ohhhhh fuckkkkkkkk!”
Heaving, sweating. Breath on the glass. Fucking. Fucking. Good.
Part 25 – The Guy
My heart was pounding as we exited the elevator. We had just eaten breakfast, and we had a couple of hours before the check-out deadline, and I still had plans for her, my sweet little fuck doll.
We walked towards our room. Holding the key-card against the pad a green light flashed on the door. My heart pounded. My erection throbbed. She turned the door handle.
I sauntered in right behind her, so close that she could surely sense the pounding coming from my chest, as I watched her ass undulate under the loose flowing skirt that she had put back on, over her new underwear. Tee shirt and jacket completed the carefree, student look that my Little Girl wore so well.
Before the door had even closed behind me, I moved to her. My left hand covered and grabbed her mouth, pulling her back into my chest, while my right hand wrapped around her throat … not quite enough to cut off her supply of oxygen but enough to let her know that she was till mine to do with as I pleased.
She let out a gasp, but my hand prevented it from being audible, instead I felt a wonderful small burst of breath against my palm.
“I love you,” I whispered into her ear.
It’s absolutely true that I did … I couldn’t do this to someone whom I didn’t trust and care about. A lesser girl in my mind would look back on what we had done and think of me as a monster, as a heartless devil who lured in women in order to abuse them. I didn’t want anyone to think that about me. Being with my Little Girl, and her Red-Haired friend, was about love and trust. The slut knew how much I loved and cared about her, and I believed that she also knew that what she saw in me was merely one facet to a very complicated man.
She struggled against my hold, but with each squirm it became apparent that struggling would only make it harder to breathe.
“Let me make one thing clear…” She stopped struggling in order to listen to what I had to say. “I can’t keep my hand on your mouth for ever. When I remove it, will you promise not to make a noise?”
Of course she would. She wanted me to treat her this way. She would do anything.
My Little Girl nodded. “Good girl.”
I unclasped my hand from her mouth, removed my hands from her neck, and, dragging her into the bedroom, I threw her onto the bed. The slut had fallen onto her back and now she stared up at me. She looked scared, well just a little. Horny also, but scared. Game or not, I liked that … I wanted that.
I strode toward the bed and threw myself on top of her, reaching my arm under her skirt I lifted up the flowing fabric, and sliding down her body, I dug my teeth into her thigh. My bite was certainly not hard enough to break the skin, but it was hard enough to elicit a delightful reaction. I could see her struggling not to let out a yelp as the blood flowed toward her thighs, to bruise in blue and grey.
I bit my way in my slut’s inner thighs until I was only inches away from her pretty, shaved tight pussy, covered only by the thin fabric of her meagre underwear.
I could feel the heat, smell the arousal and, sliding her thong to one side, I could see the moisture collecting around her labia. There was no way I could hold back, I was drawn like a lust-fuelled moth to an erotic flame.
I licked my way up, starting her perineum, the scent of her ass filling my nostrils before working my way up the slit, stopping less than an inch from my Little Girl’s already blood engorged clit.
I knew what needed to be done. I slowed the ministrations from my tongue and slowly kissed back down to her thighs.
Without warning, I flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her ass into the air in one motion, pulling her skirt down and off. The jacket and tee shirt that the slut still wore rode along her upper body to reveal the glorious underside of her firm, braless breasts.
I was still wearing my jeans and boxers, but not for long. Taking them off I also removed my shoes and socks. My erection flipped free.
Slipping her thong to one side, exposing her body to my gaze,
I pressed my hard cock against her pussy and ass, and began to push myself between the lips of her wet cunt and the puckered entrance to her bottom, without ever really penetrating either one.
She began pushing back onto my cock, begging me with her body language to fuck her. My Little Girl’s ass rose, bringing her pussy into direct contact with my achingly stiff erection. I pushed against her and opened her up.
“Please Mister, more.”
Her moan made me smile. I abruptly pulled myself out of her, much to her audible frustration, and spanked her ass, hard. She moaned again, my slut, and so I spanked her again, harder this time and she let out another delightful squeal.
I gripped the skimpy material of her underwear and tore it away from her body, and then I drove into her, gripping her hips and thrusting hard. The force was such that she almost fell forward but I held her firm, and began to fuck. With each thrust I stretched her wide and accompanied the motion of my groin with a hard slap.
Twice I sensed that her orgasm was about to burst through the dam, and twice I pulled out, holding my own climax at bay in the process.
But I never stopped slapping her. She was so wet now that entry and re-entry could be achieved with ease.
Until it was time …
An explosion of lust, desire and on my part … love, signalled the onrush of her orgasm, that in both timing and intensity, matched my own.
We lay gasping. Both naked from the waist down, dripping with juices, leaving a growing stain on the bed clothes.
“She’ll be fucked off with you again Mister,” the slut laughed.
“Who?” I asked.
“That poor fucking chamber maid.” We both laughed.
******
“Okay, ‘bye then.”
I smiled and pulled her to me.
She hugged. I hugged. I kissed. She kissed.
“Message me Mister.”
“I will,” I said, “Don’t worry.”
It was overcast. Looked like rain. Same spot. Leeds Station drop-off.
“So?”
“So?”
“When?”
“Can’t say.”
She nodded. I nodded.
Part 26 – The Girl
We went down to the restaurant for breakfast.
Normally I like something like fruit and yog and a green tea. Maybe a ginger tea.
But he was buying so I had the Full.
Two sausages. Fried bread. Black Pudding. And lots of brown sauce. Wiped my plate with the thin, barely toasted hotel toast. Slimed up with the hotel butter.
Lovely!
I like a nice breakfast once in a while.
Then he took me upstairs and fucked me. And he hit me too which was nice.
But it pisses me that he sort of stops before I cum. Like he’s being a deliberate bastard.
He thinks he’s in love with me.
And for an old guy he does good. With his dick.
He’s ok. And I like being fucked by a guy. Even if my forever love is Abi and will always be… forever.
Then he took me to the station and I think we sort of agreed he’d message me and that was that.
The weekend over.
Back on the fucking crappy train.
The trains in the northern powerhouse are as shitty as Southern. Very shitty.
And the moors are eternally dull.
And she’s there.
Kisses me.
Smiles.
Makes me a mug of tea.
And I give her my bunch of station roses. Red.
And she smiles.
And we chat.
About him. About the weekend.
‘He’s married. I heard him on the phone’ she says.
‘Yeah. And he’s in, what, his fifties? So he’s probably been married about thirty years…. shit. And now we’re here. I wonder if he’s done it before?’
‘
Probably. He’s some sort of professional guy. Nice car. Nice voice. Lots of meetings away and conferences and shit. Sure he’s fucked around. Maybe he’s just dreamt about fucking over two sexy babes like us though…’
‘Our luck then. What do you think he does? I mean, he sort of knows about drugs and defibs and things…’
‘Anyone can Google it…’
‘Yeah. Probably a banker or some shit. Anyway. He’s as fucked up as we are I reckon…’
We go out for a beer.
And let the guys stare as we kiss and mess with each other’s thighs. And then we go home and I trim the roses and we strip each other naked and as I lie down on top of her I slide the thorny stems between our tits.
And we suck in the air and cry out and we move over each other.
I whisper in her sweet ear.
She smiles.
She mouths a ‘yes’.
I fucking love her. It’s always her. I fucking love her. Hurting with her.
Kissing her.
I fucking love her.
END OF ACT 4