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

BR&T date: Sunday, 25 Feb 1996

Shivering and quietly crying, little Nicole turned left and right, hoping (in vain so far) to find just one face, among all the men, who showed some sign of sympathy for her. She looked up at the cord on her left wrist, then over to her right, twisting her wrists again to see if either had loosened in the minute since she'd last looked, but of course, that only made them tighten up ever so slightly. She looked at the similar cords on her ankles that held her legs spread so wide apart that she had difficulty standing. Her bare feet kept gradually sliding outward on the stage floor until she hung from her wrist cords, wincing and whimpering from the pain. Then she had to squirm and strain to pull her feet in as far as her ankle cords would allow, which was never enough. Her legs slowly but inevitably spread apart again and again and again, in a terrible never-ending cycle of wincing, whimpering, and squirming, crying in momentary relief, then more wincing, whimpering, squirming, and crying.

The men who had tied her there had been even more careful with her ankle cords, if care meant making sure she could never get free. Even if she had somehow escaped from the cords above, there would be no way to untie the knots binding her ankles. And even managing that, how many men would she be able to run past before some of them caught her and dragged her back to the stage and bound her, stark naked, bawling and screaming, right back where she was now? Worse, they'd probably whip her bare bottom hard for making it that far. Little Nicole whimpered again in despair, barely keeping her meager hope of release alive.

A frigid gust of wind swept over the stage, freezing her even worse than usual. Like all the other girls of her Brownie troop that she could see and hear beside and behind her on the stage, little Nicole stood weakly crying under the feeble rays of a late winter sun, unable to move, arms and legs bound wide, without so much as a hair ribbon for protection from the brisk breeze. Without so much as a hair ribbon for protection from the leering stares, the cords on her wrists and ankles not covering enough to count.

Ever more men had arrived throughout the morning. Each newcomer smiled with delight on seeing the nine helpless naked girls on the stage, then circled around the stage until he'd seen (and heard) each Brownie up close. Most of the men chose a favorite and stayed close by, while some kept circling the stage, enjoying the variety or perhaps unable to decide on just one. Little Nicole had quite a gathering of men close in front of her, watching her intently. Others passed by repeatedly, pausing to stare.

Little Nicole's only luck had been escaping from the wildly careening schoolbus last of all, leaping from the emergency door in back just before the bus slipped into the deep frigid river, taking its drunken driver with it. That was only 'luck' because she had fallen and hit her head on a rock, remaining unconscious on the cold river bank for hours, until someone, she knew not whom, had picked her up and taken her somewhere, she knew not where. And that was only 'luck' because she had been spared some of the fate of the other Brownies: their terrible and terrifying experiences of the previous day.

But she hadn't escaped it all. Awakening that morning, little Nicole had found herself on a bed, in a room she'd never seen before. She'd looked around in confusion. Where was she? Where was her Brownie uniform? Who had taken it off her? Why were her arms spread wide beside her head, and why did her wrists and ankles hurt her so much?? And finally, where were her panties!? Her screams of panic immediately attracted attention, but hardly the kind she wanted.

In mid-morning she'd been brought to the stage by men she'd never seen before. She found all of her troopmates already there, bawling and wailing incoherently from some recent torment of extreme cruelty that she'd had the luck to miss. As the crowd watched and cheered, she'd been forced up on the stage and tied just like all the other Brownies: stretched naked between two sturdy posts, facing outward, fully on display from every direction, thin cords pulled painfully tight on her wrists and ankles to hold her. Then one of them had expertly adjusted the cords with just the right amount of slack to keep the helpless little girl miserably whimpering and crying and squirming endlessly, vainly trying to find a position that hurt the least, as if there was one, and stay in it despite the slippery stage floor, as if she could.

Eventually able to speak, the two Brownies nearest her sobbed out some of the details they had suffered already, and warned little Nicole what they'd been told was in store for them all at midday.

Another forceful gust of icy wind whipped the leafless branches of the surrounding trees into frenzied motion. Unabated, it swept onto the stage, wrapping nine naked little Brownie bodies in its icy grip, eliciting sudden shrieks from girls who hadn't had any warning, and laughter from men who had. Blowing straight into little Nicole's face, it forced her eyes shut and streamed her long wavy hair back on both sides. She curled her fingers into fists, but the wind's wintery breath mercilessly sucked the warmth from her slender bare chest, arms, legs, toes, and everywhere else with any warmth to take, especially anywhere with any moisture at all.

"Ae! Ae! Ae! AAeeaa! AAAaachooo!!" she sneezed, her wrists and ankles jerking hard in the cruelly-tight cords again. Her whimpering from the stabbing pain briefly amused the dozen or so well-bundled men who stood closest to her to get the best view. "Ohhh pleeeease! Somebody pleeeeeeeeasse help meeeee!" Nicole cried weakly, for the hundredth time, but no one heard her who hadn't smiled at the sound a dozen times already.

She'd been told that the camera mounted directly in front of her at knee level and aimed up to cover all of her plus the two thick posts beside her, with the two large microphones aimed at her on either side of it, would ensure that thousands of other men and boys who couldn't be there would still get to enjoy seeing her naked and listening to her cry. Anyone who watched the video later would see her sneeze and whimper from the pain, and would laugh about it just like the men who were there and staring at her now. She looked straight at the camera without pausing her crying, and wailed, "Aaaaauuuwwww! Wwwaaahhhhw!" Then she cried about knowing that they'd see and hear her crying about it, and enjoy that, too. She winced at the biting pain that her shivering produced in her wrists and ankles. "UUuhhh AAaawwhhh!" she sobbed. They would enjoy her sobbing even more, she knew, but she couldn't stop.

"Hey! It's her!" a man shouted, off to her left. "I know her!" The voice seemed somehow familiar, and Nicole turned and watched him approach. "It's Nicole! Nicole Miller!!" he shouted, beaming in delight and surprise. He hurried through the crowd, which parted to let him stand immediately in front of her. "Hey everybody!" he called loudly to the men around him, drawing the attention of dozens more within earshot, who all looked her way as he pointed at her. "That's Nicole Miller, the pretty seven-year-old girl who lives just down the street from me!"

"Nicole!!" he greeted her directly, leaning toward her eagerly. "I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to see you here!"

The words, if spoken to her at the grocery store or movie theater, might have surprised and flattered her, but here, in this place, with her like she was, his real meaning was clear: he was thrilled that she, Nicole, the girl who lived down the street from him, was one of the girls tied naked on the stage, helpless and miserable and completely exposed, for the entertainment of the throng of men surrounding them.

He wasn't glad to see her; he was glad to see her here, naked and helpless and sobbing. This man who lived near her was glad to see her titties, and her belly, and her pussy opened to his gaze, he was glad all the other men could see her that way, and he was thrilled that she couldn't do anything to prevent it. He even grinned extra at the way she desperately tried to squeeze her knees together to hide from him, out of all the men there, only hurting her ankles and making absolutely no difference in what he could see.

Nicole didn't answer him, just sobbed and turned her head away, as if by not looking at him she could stop him from seeing her.

Of course it didn't, nor did it stop her from hearing as he continued teasing her and telling her name to any man who passed near. "Hey everyone! Come see Nicole Miller!! Hey Nicole, you look a bit chilly! Does your mother know you went out dressed like that? Does your school principal know, or should I tell him?"

He obviously also knew, since all the men knew, as all the girls knew, that all the girls were going to get raped at noon. Or more precisely, all the girls were going to get raped starting at noon. His words also meant that he was equally thrilled, or perhaps even more thrilled, that a girl he already knew, a girl who lived so close to him, was one of the girls the men were going to rape today, and that he was right there to see it happen to her.

Or, she cringed, did he expect to be one of the men who would rape her? After all, he was now standing closer to her than any of the other men, and it looked like he meant to keep it that way. She looked into his eyes. Then she panicked.

"Hellllp!!" she wailed, at everyone in the crowd... except him. He was the one she was most afraid of, now. He was the one who was going to rape her first. He was the one most eager to watch her helplessly struggle and cry as other men raped her. It might be hours away, still, but she knew at that moment she was standing spread naked and helpless in front of her first rapist, her pussy opened up to his view, and he was thinking about raping her right then as he looked at her.

"Ohh please, help! Help!! Pleeeeaase help me anybody! Helllllp... aaauuuuw..." Sobbing, she pulled vainly at the cords on her wrists and ankles again, wiggling frantically as hard as she could. "Hellp! Ohhh somebody hellllllllp!" she begged, looking desperately around the crowd for anyone who might hear her and rescue her. "OOOhhhh help me please please help meeeeeeeeee!!" she screamed despairingly, but too faintly to be heard over the crowd by anyone who wasn't paying close attention to her.

Like him. "Oh, I'm going to hellllllllp youuuuuuuuuu, Nicole!" he taunted, smirking as he watched her desperate feeble struggling. "You can bet on it. Did I tell you how happy I am to see you here?"