This is a story. It never happened and never will. The General Disclaimer is incorporated herein by reference.

BR&T date: Friday, 31 October 1997

Cindy Graymont waited nervously in her bedroom. She didn't dare leave, for fear she wouldn't be there when the neighbor boys came to get her. She waited, and waited, and waited. She trembled, tried not to cry, and waited. Despite her best efforts, she cried, off and on, as she thought about what the boys might want to do.

Nothing she dreaded even came close to what the boys had planned.

The eight-year-old girl had said good-bye to her best friend, Marie, her classmate in third grade, and got in line for her own schoolbus to go home from school. Her neighbors had immediately joined the line, forcefully taken and held her arms, and whispered in her ears so no one else heard them: "Don't go anywhere tonight. Wait for us in that old shed you call a bedroom, until we get there," Austin had told her coldly.

"Or you'll really regret it," his younger brother, Dallas, had threatened her for good measure.

The two ninth- and eighth-grade boys had kept watching her all the way home on the bus. She knew they'd know it if she didn't do as they'd demanded.

Upon getting home, Cindy had told her mother she didn't feel well enough to go out with the other kids for Halloween. She said she just wanted to stay in her room. And by 'room' she meant the old tool shed on the edge of her mother's farm that she'd moved into 'temporarily' about seven months earlier, when a storm had destroyed her real bedroom. Somehow, no one had ever gotten around to fixing the damage so she could move back into a real bedroom in a real house. The only adult who had ever shown her any respect, the man who had promised to fix the storm's damage to her real bedroom, had gone away suddenly before he could work on it, and no one had taken up the job afterward. She supposed no one ever would.

Cindy helped her mother put away the beautiful pink glittery princess costume she had expected to wear that night, and trudged unhappily out to the shed. Now she sat on her bed hugging a pillow, and waited, and waited, and trembled, ... and tried not to cry.

Shortly after dusk, with light failing and the evening chill settling in, the two boys yanked her door open and walked in like they owned the place. Considering how much time they spent there, and how much stuff in it they'd put there for their own use, they might well have a good case if it came to an argument.

They found Cindy still in the clothes she wore to school that day. She quickly wiped her eyes, not wanting the boys to know she'd been crying. They would only enjoy seeing it.

"Where's your nightgown?" Austin asked. "Get it. Put it on," he demanded.

Cindy stood and pulled her nightie out of a large cardboard box in the corner that held most of her clothes in one big pile. Except for five dresses hanging together from a peg on one of the walls, that box was her entire wardrobe. She timidly started putting on the nightie over her school dress.

"Don't be stupid!" Austin growled. "Put it on like you're getting ready for bed! And don't try to tell me you wear socks and shoes to bed!"

Meekly, she sat on the edge of her bed and took off her dress, then leaned down and removed her shoes and socks. When she had everything off except her panties, she started putting on her nightie again.

"Stop," Austin interruped her. "Take your panties off, too."

Cindy knew she didn't have any choice. She slid the back of her panties down, pushed the cloth underneath her and along her legs, and finally over her knees to drop around her ankles. She pulled her feet out and left her panties on the floor beside the bed. When she sat on the edge of her bed completely naked, Cindy looked at Austin for permission. When he nodded, only then did she reach for her nightie again, and put it on.

As soon as she had her nightie on, the boys lifted her to her feet by her arms and forced her outside. Dallas blindfolded her with a thick strip of canvas, tying it in place with rope tight enough to press her ears against her head.

"Oh please," she whined, "please don't hurt me! Pleeeease, please!"

"As long as you do everything we tell you to do, we won't hurt you," he assured her. Dallas pulled her arms behind her back and tied cords around her wrists, then yanked the cords tight enough to make her whimper.

Austin smirked, "Except for that, of course!"

They started walking, forcing Cindy to go with them. Blindfolded, all she could tell was what she felt with her bare feet: the brush of grass on her ankles, then bare dirt, then more grass, more dirt, some rough gravel that hurt to walk on, and finally the rutted surface of a hard-packed dirt road.

At the road, the boys lifted her arms and demanded that she step up. They held her until she got her balance on some sort of carpet. They forced her to turn around, then they pushed her down into a seat, and she realised she was in a van, confirmed when the door slid shut and the engine started.

The boys sat on either side of her, buckled her and themselves in, and the van drove off. Cindy sat there, fearful but submissive. They'd said they wouldn't hurt her if she did what they said, so she waited quietly, except for soft whimpers of distress, as the van picked up speed, crunching gravel under its tires until it reached a highway. With her wrists tied together behind her back, and blindfolded, she couldn't have done anything anyway.

Nobody had said anything to tell anyone where to go. The driver must have known who got in, and where to take them. After awhile on the highway, it turned onto gravel again, lasting a few minutes. It made a slow turn onto a very rough road, proceeded slowly as branches frequently scraped against the sides of the van, finally left the trees behind, and stopped with a thump on the front bumper. The driver still said nothing, and no one said anything to the driver. The boys slid the door open and forced Cindy out of the van.

They took her arms to steady her and forced her with them for a short walk on another bare dirt path, then helped her up a short wooden stairway onto a wooden floor. They stopped her again after a dozen more steps. Since Cindy was still blindfolded, she had no idea where she was.

Austin released the cords, separating her arms and letting her move more freely, but left the two cords tied tightly around her wrists. "Get your nightgown off," he ordered her. His tone gave her no hope for negotiation.

"Please, you said you wouldn't hurt me!" Cindy cried. Terrified of what the boys were going to do, but knowing they would first hurt her if she disobeyed, then do whatever they wanted anyway, she began lifting her nightie. "Where are we?" she asked, as she slid it along her arms. A boy yanked it away from her without answering. She covered her chest and hugged herself with both arms, shivering more from the cold night air on her body than from shame at being naked outside.

She didn't get much chance to warm up. The cords on her wrists suddenly pulled her hands away from her, apart to her left and right, and forced her to raise her arms high. "Aahwww," she whimpered. "You said you wouldn't hurt me if I did what you said," she pleaded again.

"Except for that, I said. Remember?" Austin teased, as the cords kept getting tighter, forcing her arms even higher and straighter.

"Oh please, please take me home, please," she whimpered and cried, getting only chuckles in response. The cords on her wrists tightened even more, forcing Cindy to lift herself up on tip-toe. "AAhhhwwie!" she squealed, louder. "It hurrrrts! Please stahhp!"

"If you don't want it to hurrrrt," Austin mocked, "there are steps off to the side you can stand on. I suggest you use them."

Hesitantly, Cindy moved her right leg to the side, farther and farther, at last bumping her foot against something. She slid her foot up along it until she found a narrow shelf, maybe half the width of her foot, nailed to a post. She found it to be solid, and high enough when she stood on it to ease the pain in her right wrist. She moved her left leg to the opposite side and located a similar board nailed to another post, and straightened to stand with both feet on the narrow boards. The discomfort in the soles of her bare feet from the edges hurt less than the pain in her wrists. Even the shame of standing completely naked with her legs spread wide apart wasn't as bad as hanging painfully from the cords. Besides, the blindfold helped her to ignore her position.

As soon as she had both feet on the supports, Austin and Dallas tightened the cords even more. Her wrists hurt her as much as before. "No!! Stop! Please don't hurt me! What do I do now!?" Cindy wailed.

"Climb," Dallas suggested.

Cindy tried sliding her right foot upward on the post, and indeed found another step higher than the first. She quickly slid her left foot up to find a matching step, and once again stood on her feet.

The boys tightened the cords, pulling relentlessly. Her arms spread wider and her wrists begged for relief. Without prompting, Cindy felt for a third step and found it, higher on the post than the second step. She found the same on the other post, and stood, the edges of the steps now beginning to hurt her bare feet more than they had at first. She almost forgot how cold she felt, almost forgot her nakedness. "Oh pleeeease, oh pleeeaaaase, let me go home!" she cried.

Finally the boys took up the slack in the cords but only left them tight, not forcing her any higher. She felt for supports higher up on the posts anyway, but found none. Cindy stood stretched between the cords on her wrists and her need to keep her feet on what little support the steps on the posts provided. "Oh please please can't I go home? I'll do whatever you waaant!" she begged them desperately.

Austin pulled her blindfold off. Cindy saw very little more without it than she had with it on. By then, the night was too dark to see anything anyway, being a moonless night in a place with no lights. Weak light from the few stars showing between scattered clouds revealed nothing of her surroundings, only that she was outside, as she'd already suspected from the chilly air.

Letting only enough light escape from a flashlight to help them find their way back to the van, the boys left her there, all alone in the dark, tied up, helpless, naked, her arms and legs spread, and wailing miserably. "Come back!! Come back!! Oh please pleeeaase come baaaack!!" Cindy cried desperately, for a long long time, even after she heard the van's engine fade away in the darkness.

Cindy couldn't decide whether she felt more afraid that the boys would return and hurt her, despite their promise, or not return. She had no choice in either case. She waited for hours, seeing and hearing no sign of the boys, not even the faintest sound of a vehicle or faintest light in the deep darkness, nor the faintest sound of a human voice other than her own crying.

She hung by her wrists, naked, outside at night, freezing cold, and couldn't even rub herself for warmth. She hung there crying until she finally fell asleep despite her situation. The instant she did, her foot slipped off her support. She dropped hard against the cords on her wrists, immediately woke and screamed in pain, and spread her legs wide again, waving her legs around in the dark to locate the steps attached to the posts and get her feet back on them to relieve her wrists. The same torment repeatedly awakened her throughout the night, each time hurting her terribly without allowing her any sleep to make up for it. At last, hours later, she knew which terror most terrified her. She longed desperately for the boys to release her, regardless what they would do to her before they did.

But they didn't, as more hours passed, each one a worse torment for Cindy than the one before.

BR&T date: Saturday, 1 November 1997

Dawn of the next day finally crept across the sky as clouds departed. The light very gradually returned, revealing Cindy still tied there, naked and helpless. She eventually made out two sturdy wooden posts on either side of her to which her wrists had been tied, then a circular stage on which the posts stood, a large open grassy area all around the stage, and at last, a thick forest beyond the clearing. She called for help, desperately, but her wails went unanswered until she gave up. She remained all alone, gaining no comfort from anything the feeble twilight showed her.

Cindy looked around the stage, left and right, and as far as she could see behind her by turning her head. Her hope faded. The boys had taken away her nightgown, too. It wouldn't have done her any good anyway, but they'd taken away from her even the meager comfort of it being there, and left her not just naked, but probably miles from anything she could possibly wear, or anything she could call hers.

Looking over her shoulder, she noticed movement at the edge of the forest, and watched, finally certain that she saw a person. She hopefully, yet fearfully, called for help, without getting the person's attention. The person approached her anyway, walking directly toward the stage, carrying a large awkward load. She gasped, recognising one of the BR&T cameramen from the day the boys brought the BR&T crew to her bedroom, one of the cameramen who'd recorded everything as men raped and raped and raped and raped and raped and raped her that day. He'd handed off his camera to take his own turns several times. Cindy struggled uselessly and bawled, knowing he'd never help her.

Smiling, he climbed the stage steps and put down his load. He pulled a rod from a canvas bag and spanked her hard once, making her scream but not bawl any harder. Reluctantly, he put it back, and began spreading items out onto the stage. He had a job to do, and little time, and quickly went to work.

Cindy had nothing but time, and nothing else to do except cry, as she watched the man work, a man that she knew had raped her at least four times, and had watched as other men had raped her well over a hundred times on the longest and worst day of her life. Just his presence there, and what it implied, filled her with terror, and everything he did increased her terror. She pulled uselessly at the cords the boys had tied on her wrists, still as helpless as ever.

He carefully placed cameras and microphones all around her, checking the angles for proper aim. He ran cables and power cords to each camera, then checked and triple-checked all the connections. He didn't want any more fiascos like happened the previous year at the other stage, with one of the Brownies. Everything depended on just one girl, so everything had to work the first time, especially on such an important day.

Shortly before dawn, other men began arriving, gathering around the stage. Laughing and joking, they compared items they brought, sometimes pantomiming an item's purpose for those nearby. With enough light for everyone to see everything around the stage and on it, Cindy could easily see what each man intended to do with each toy. She also knew who they obviously intended to do it to. None of them looked like fun to her, no matter how much the men laughed. She wailed a desperate plea for help, only getting snickers in response. She pulled on the cords, hurting her wrists, as men smiled at her. She sobbed in despair, as they grinned. She knew what they were going to do to her.

Finally, the cameraman finished the day's preparations, satisfied that all the cameras and microphones were on and working to record everything that would happen to her on the stage that day. They were already recording Cindy's reactions as she saw each man arrive and realised what he brought to the party and what it was for.

As the pre-dawn sky brightened still further, the trickle of arrivals grew to a steady stream. The area around the stage began to fill.

One man set up a large banner beside the stage that Cindy could read, saying "Welcome to the BR&T Grand Opening" above a table displaying merchandise of various kinds. He placed magazines on the table, some of them turned to pages near the back, most of them with the cover on display. Two other men set up a table to serve food and drinks. Another set up a low banner before the stage. Cindy couldn't read it from her position, but men who looked at it and read it usually turned and looked at her awhile. A few took photos of her, making sure to include the banner; others took a photo of it first, then more of her as they circled around her. One man smiled at the banner, and called to her teasingly, "Hiiiii there, Ciiiiindy Michelllllle!!" He waved, laughing. Cindy had never seen him before.

A couple of men read the banner together, then approached close to the stage just in front of her. "You sure will!" one of them declared with a grin.

"Will what?" Cindy asked fearfully, as she hung by her wrists, helpless and naked in front of the men.

"Get what you deserve, you little fuckrag!" the other man smirked. They turned away, laughing, to go see the offered merchandise.

One of the arrivals took a long rod out of a case. Holding one end as a handle, he plugged a cord into it from the case. Cindy wondered what it was for. It was clearly too long to use for spanking her. Other men gathered around him to see it closer. He urgently waved them to stand back. Holding the rod level, he pointed it at Cindy where she hung helpless on the stage, far from him. He thrust the rod in her direction while pressing a button on the rod.

The surprised onlookers roared with laughter while Cindy shrieked in sudden terror. When he finally released his thumb from the button, the bright spark at the end of the rod ceased. Cindy's shrieks continued until her sobs finally took over.

The man beamed with satisfaction and put the rod back into the case. Men nearby smiled and shook his hand. He looked forward to being up on the stage with her and using it for real on those two enticing little pussy lips, among other tempting places. Then they'd hear some real shrieks!

An onlooker, apparently not as impressed with the rod as the others, waved to the other men to gather around him. He looked familiar to Cindy, but she wasn't sure where she'd seen him before. Once he had the attention of enough other men, but most importantly making sure he had Cindy's attention also, he reached into his pocket and removed something very small. Cindy couldn't tell what it was, but apparently neither could the men right beside him. He raised his hand and showed her and the crowd, holding - what? two matchsticks? nothing more?? - between his fingers. Watching Cindy's face (and her entire naked body, since, why not?), he slowly lowered the hand holding whatever it was, and made a very slow twisting motion with his other hand.

Cindy gasped. Now she remembered him. "No!!" she screamed wildly. "No!! Nooohhhh!! Nohhh!! Nooohhh!! No no no no no ohhh no noohhh!! Oh please no!!" she wailed, far louder and far more desperately than she had for the other man's blazing spark. "Ohhh no no nnnoohhhh!!" she screamed, trailing off in a thin squeal. She threw her head back and howled in absolute terror, frantically but uselessly jerking her arms in the cords. She fell from the steps and kicked and twisted wildly. Finally exhausted by the effort, sobbing incoherently, she spread her legs apart again to get her feet back on the narrow supports. Cindy stared at the man in the crowd, and sobbed "Ohhhh pleeeeease noohhh!!"

He smiled and returned the item to his pocket. But only until his turn.

Cindy saw Austin and Dallas at last, leaving the second table, gripping mugs of hot chocolate to keep their hands warm. Freezing cold, she called to her neighbors desperately. They looked her way, smiled brightly, and turned back to their business. Her last faint glimmer of hope sputtered out when they cheerfully greeted the cameraman like an old friend.

The boys only told her that they wouldn't hurt her. Surely, they'd argue, she couldn't blame them for what a hundred other guys did, and besides, they never said they wouldn't watch!

Nothing was going to save her, nothing was going to stop them, Cindy realised. Every man there would get to do whatever he wanted to do to her while the rest stood back and enjoyed the show. Her cry of despair drew looks of amusement from all directions.

The horizon brightened into a rosy glow. The sun peeked through upper tree branches, lighting the tops of the posts beside Cindy. The shadow line ever so slowly descended toward her fingers as the sun climbed higher. It would soon be full daylight, with the sun shining in Cindy's eyes. The sun at last lighting Cindy brightly from the tips of her slender fingers to the ends of her little toes - and everything in between - would be the signal for the Grand Opening to begin.

Almost everyone there eagerly looked forward to it.