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

BR&T date: Wednesday, 3 April 1996

Sara got off her bicycle and parked it on the porch. She moved the third flower pot to get the house key under it, nervously opened her front door, and cautiously looked inside. Yesterday, right after her father got home from his work at the lumber mill, at his command she'd had to walk two houses down and give her own house key, the one she usually carried, to That Boy, who lived there. Ever since, she'd been afraid that he would take it as an open invitation to come over whenever he wanted. She didn't find what she dreaded, so she quickly slipped inside, shut and locked the door behind her, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Her relief was very short-lived.

"That you, Sara?" a voice called. "Get up here, fucktoy. We've been waiting for you."

A boy's face appeared over the bannister in the upstairs hallway, just outside her bedroom. Other voices farther inside sounded amused, but she couldn't make out the words. "Don't even think about leaving, fucktoy," he warned. "I'll be counting until you're up here, and every count past ten is a swat, so you better hurry. One. "

Sara trembled. She sure was thinking about leaving.

" Two. "

She put down her schoolbooks. No point in running with those anyway.

" Three. "

She squirmed. If she ran away, the boys would surely make trouble for her with her father, maybe even with the principal of her school, and there was no limit to the trouble he could cause her. He would probably let the boys in her fourth-grade class spank her in her classroom, or in the hallway, or let other boys spank her in front of the whole school again.

" Four! "

'What are they doing here anyway?' she wondered. 'It's the wrong day!!' She wasn't due to go back to 'rape therapy' until thursday. One more day. They couldn't take that day away from her!

" Five. In case you think I was kidding, I wasn't."

'Ohhhh,' she moaned, still undecided what to do.

" Six-seven-eight- " the voice began to count more rapidly.

Sara ran up the stairs. " Nine! " A hand grabbed her arm at the top of the stairs and shoved her through the door into her bedroom. " TEN. You just barely made it."

She looked around and saw ten boys in her bedroom, all of them teenagers. One of them was That Boy (she didn't even know his name yet), the one her father had 'hired' to get her ready for 'rape therapy' alone on thursdays, since he couldn't leave work to do it himself. Most of the others she'd seen in his cellar, when they had all spanked her and raped her for as long as they wanted, which turned out to be hours. The other four were unfamiliar faces to her. Two of them moved between her and the door while two others roughly pushed her to the center of the room.

"Get her ready," That Boy said to his friends.

"But, but it's wednesday," Sara protested desperately. "I'm not supposed to go anywhere today!"

The boys laughed. "Who said anything about going anywhere?" one boy teased. "Maybe you didn't see these." He pointed to two eye-bolts screwed into the footboard of her bed. Each had a cord tied to it. He pointed to two more, screwed into the headboard, both also with cords. "The two on this end are for your ankles, and the other two are for your wrists. They'll leave holes when we take 'em out, but it's not like anyone will notice, on this old bed. We'll start you out face down and flip you over when we feel like it. Or maybe if you beg us sincerely enough."

Another boy grinned widely. "Just like you said, you're not going anywhere!"

"Now strip!" That Boy demanded. He waved a hand at his friends, "Or they'll help you, and your father won't like it when he sees what you did to your clothes."

Sara looked around. The two boys behind her had already closed the door and stood blocking it anyway. The other eight surrounded her, all of them smiling in anticipation. She didn't see any who looked inclined to rescue her.

" One, " the boy who had counted before began counting again.

Sara looked down at the pale pastel green dress she'd worn to school that day. It was one of the most delicate dresses in her closet, exquisitely beautiful and undoubtedly very expensive. If the boys ruined it, her father would blame her, she was sure, and she'd never hear the end of it.

" Two. "

She reached back and unzipped the small zipper behind her neck. The dress opened up. Trembling, she raised a shoulder and began sliding the strap off it. She slid the strap down to her elbow, raising her arm to pull free, and let the dress drop on that side, her back half bare already.

" Three. "

She reached for the second shoulder strap. She paused, trembling.

" Four. If I get to ten, you're going to have a lot of help. And accidents will happen."

She slid the shoulder strap down, and the dress fell to her waist, leaving her pale back and chest completely bare.

" Five. "

She pushed her dress down until it fell to her ankles. She stood there in her panties. She shut her eyes so she wouldn't see the boys staring at her.

" Six! Keep your eyes open."

Sara tried not to think about it, but she knew she was obediently stripping in front of ten boys, including four that she'd never even seen before, in her bedroom. She knew they would make her strip completely naked, she knew they were going to tie her to her bed and do everything to her they wanted to do, she knew that what they wanted would include rape, certainly by every one of them, and she knew nobody would stop them. She knew that even if her neighbors heard her screaming wildly while all the boys raped her, none of them would lift a finger to save her. That Boy had already proved that to her out on the sidewalk the previous thursday, by making her yell loudly that she was going to get raped. All the neighbors had heard, they must have. Nobody had done anything about it then, and they wouldn't do anything about it now, either.

With a sob, Sara pushed her panties down.

" Seven. I said keep your eyes open. That's one swat no matter what. Shoes and socks off now. Eight! "

Sara pushed off her shoes, stepped out of her panties, and knelt to get her socks off, hurrying before her time ran out. She stood up, naked, covering her pussy and titties with her hands and arm.

At school, it seemed that every boy in her class, and probably every boy in the whole school, had unlimited license to hurt her at will, and none of the teachers, and certainly not the principal, would raise a finger or say a word to stop them. Now, less than two minutes after she got home from that school, in the very sanctuary where she should be safe, she stood cowering, naked, surrounded by a crowd of even older boys intent on hurting her even worse. She trembled with fear as she looked at That Boy and waited for his next demand.

"Told ya she would," a boy boasted. "Get the fucktoy on the bed and spread her out. Anyone want to spank her first, or should she be face up from the beginning?"

Sara winced and squealed as ten boys grabbed her. Her feeble resistance didn't even slow them down as they forcefully dragged her to the bed.

"Just hold her there for the one swat she gets for closing her eyes," That Boy declared, while removing his belt. Five of his friends complied, easily keeping the struggling naked ten-year-old girl under their control. Two held her arms bent behind her back, two others held her legs apart, another held her face pressed into the sheets.

A thick leather belt smacked hard against her soft ass, which was still red and sore from a fifteen-minute spanking at school earlier that afternoon. "MMmm! Uuhhhh!" she moaned, the sheets muting her wail of anguish. However, nothing hid the reflex jerk of her naked body and limbs. "YAahhhwww AAWww!" she bawled when her head lifted off the bed momentarily.

It took all of his willpower to put down his belt after just one swing, but they were all there for something better. "Get her in position," he said, and stepped forward to help. Ten boys flipped her over, spread her arms and legs wide to the sides of the bed, and wrapped cords around her wrists and ankles.

Each cord stretched taut from a wrist or ankle, around a bedpost at the corner, and ended tied tightly through an eyebolt and wrapped repeatedly to take up even the slightest slack, thus mercilessly and very painfully holding her helpless. Sara continued sobbing and gasping as she gingerly tested her bonds, only hurting herself by even the slightest pull against the thin cords. Tears ran down the sides of her face, getting in both ears. She gave up struggling for freedom, but kept trying to ease whichever wrist or ankle hurt the worst at the time. Since that changed with every breath, every gasp and sob she couldn't suppress, the torment kept her squirming constantly.

The boys stepped back and enjoyed the view of Sara's naked body spread before them, with the full light of day shining through the large window on her face, chest, arms and legs, fingers and toes, and as deep inside her wide open pussy as light could possibly go. None of the boys showed the least hesitation or worry as they decided who would be first to rape her on her own bed, in her own bedroom, with all the rest of them right there, watching... and waiting.