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

BR&T date: Monday, 8 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, but before she could put it into the lock, the front door opened. She screamed and backed away, prepared to run, even though she knew that running away would be the worst choice. They would make sure that running away was the worst choice, and make sure she knew it.

"Come on in, Sara," a familiar voice called. "I have... I mean, we have a surprise for you up in your bedroom."

Sara stood paralysed, still on the brink of running, until she realised whose voice she heard. "What are you doing home from work?" she asked her father, and stepped through the doorway.

He smiled at her. "I finished a project I've been working on and got permission from the boss to take some time off work to give it to you. Cover your eyes," he added. "I want it to be a surprise."

She put down her schoolbooks, covered her eyes with both hands, and let him lead her up the stairs and along the hallway to her bedroom door.

He led her into her bedroom. "Alright, open your eyes now," he said.

Sara put her hands down and looked. "Wow!" she said, a little speechless at first. "Wow!" she added a few seconds later. She stepped forward and reached out a hand. "Wwwwow! It's for me??" she asked.

"Whose bedroom is it in?" her father teased. "Of course it's for you. I made it myself. Well, with a little bit of help on some parts, and a lot of help getting it in here, but it's almost all my design and work. You haven't said whether you like it."

"I love it!" she exclaimed. "It's beautiful!" She reached out and stroked the nearest post of the bed, feeling the swirls of smooth glass beads that covered it in every color of the rainbow plus a few extra, from the floor to the lacy white canopy.

"That part was my idea," her father said, "the rainbow beads thing, though they added some white, black, and clear beads on their own without asking me. I don't think those detract from it too much. Adds contrast, maybe."

Sara walked around to the side of the bed, which took her longer than usual. The new bed was twice as wide as her old bed, and longer by half, and taller besides, counting the posts and a canopy. "What are these for?" she asked, pointing up at the side of the canopy.

"Here, let me show you the features. I'll get to those in a bit." Reaching down, he turned a knob on the end of the bed. Lights flickered and came on brightly at each end of the bed, shining upward into the canopy. "Reading lights," he said, "for when you're reading in bed." He turned the knob, and the end lights turned off and longer brighter lights lit the sides of the canopy. He turned the knob again, and all four lights filled the room with a soft even light suffusing from the bright canopy of the bed. Not one dark corner remained, not a shadow anywhere in the bedroom, yet the light pleased the eyes like sunlight. "You won't need the usual lamps and ceiling light. You can just turn on the bed instead." Another turn of the knob and the lights went out.

"Why is the switch on the end of the bed?" she asked.

"When I told my boss about the project, he gave me a raise, believe it or not, and he asked one of his friends to do the electrical work for me, even provided the parts for free. So I guess that's just where he decided to put the switch. He's the electrician, so it must have some advantage."

He moved up beside her and knelt. "Drawers on each side, built in, below the bed, for storing stuff. Each one locks with a different key." He took out a keyring with four keys, tried a couple in the lock, and opened it with the second key. "Hmm. Looks like someone left some coils of rope in this one. Bunch of different kinds. I'll have to ask around to see if anyone at work is missing any rope. Until I find out, just leave it there. Anyway, there's another one on the other side just like it, and larger ones on each end." He left the key in the lock.

He stood and turned. "I decided you also needed a better mirror. The one over there is the same as this one. Maybe I overdid it by getting you two, but they were two-for-one at the place my boss suggested, and they're for a girl's bedroom, not really my style, so you get both of them. They're full length, of course, and extra wide. See how they swivel and turn, left and right, up and down, so they can be adjusted any way you need them without moving the base? Good thing, too, because they're awfully heavy. They have lights around the mirror to make sure you're nicely lit whenever you use it. You don't even have to turn it on; it senses when you're in front of it and turns itself on. See? What do you think of them?"

"They're nice, I guess," she shrugged. She wasn't sure about mirrors that 'turned on' whenever she stood in front of them, but maybe she'd get used to them. "But what are those for?" Sara asked again, pointing up at the side of the canopy on the bed.

"Those are hooks for hanging stuff on," he explained, reaching up and acting out hanging something on the third of the six hooks along the length of the bed. "Whatever you need to hang up, there's a hook for it somewhere. See the ones on the posts, too, every two feet, left and right side? You'll never wish for a hook and not have one!"

Sara noticed six more hooks along the baseboard. Confused, she asked, "Why are those upside-down? You can't hang anything on them that way."

"Well, I just put them on to match the ones above, and since you can't hang anything on them that low, anyway, as you said, I put them on upside-down for symmetry." He didn't admit that his boss had suggested the lower hooks and paid for them. "If you don't like them, Sara, I'm afraid you're stuck with them, since taking them off would mess up the paint and look terrible."

Sara half-smiled. "If that's the only thing wrong with the bed, I can live with it," she teased. "I love it," she reaffirmed, and gave her father a hug. "Thanks for not putting any little kid stuff on it like talking ponies or weird cat faces. After all, I'm ten. The rainbow swirls are wonderful."

"I'm glad. I hope it brings a lot of enjoyment. There's only one condition on the help and free parts I got: if we ever move, the bed has to stay here. Some other girl will get it then, I assume, probably in this very room, too. I guess you'll be tired of it by then anyway. Well, I have to get back to work now. He didn't give me the whole afternoon off, just a raise."

Sara hesitantly answered a knock on the door, hoping to see her father returning from work though it was still an hour early. She backed away from the door as That Boy (she still didn't know his name) pushed his way inside, followed by six of his friends, all of them teenagers.

"Good. You're here, fucktoy," one of them said bluntly. "Get upstairs and strip." Three boys she hadn't seen before laughed at that.

They followed her up the stairs. A boy holding her arm behind her back gave her incentive to hurry. In her bedroom, one of the boys mockingly said what a pretty bed she had. When they saw all the hooks, their praise for the bed became enthusiastic. The three new boys were too impatient to wait, so they 'helped' Sara strip, and they weren't gentle about it, just barely careful enough that they didn't rip anything except her panties.

None of them were gentle about anything that followed.

A few minutes after That Boy and his friends left, Sara finally stood up. She rubbed her wrists, hoping the marks would go away before school tomorrow so no one would see them. She lifted a leg to put her right foot on top of her dresser, and rubbed her ankle all around, then switched to her left, hoping the marks would go away before school tomorrow so no one would see them. She stood before her mirror and rubbed her pussy, hoping the marks would go away before school tomorrow so no one would see them. She didn't worry about the marks behind; everyone would just assume they were from earlier in the school day. Tears in her eyes blurred her image, but with the extra light from the mirror frame, she could tell she looked just like she felt. She put her clothes back on.

She greeted her father when he arrived. Still squeezing tears out of her eyes, she tried valiantly to keep from crying in front of him. If she even tried to tell him anything critical of That Boy, she knew her father wouldn't believe her, just take it as an attempt to get out of going to rape therapy, and would spank her for it. Not to mention what That Boy and his friends would do to her for trying to tell. "I'm glad you're home, Daddy," she said, and clung to him, trembling.

He looked at her closely. "Sara, if you're going to eat cream-filled donuts before I get home, that's fine, don't worry about that, but you have to stop squeezing them so hard the cream sprays all over. You've got some on your eyebrow, and your left cheek, and more in your hair. No, other eyebrow. At least check a mirror after you eat something that squirts. I just gave you two new mirrors. What did you think they're for? Sara! Don't use your lace collar for that. It's not ladylike."

Moments later, a knock came at the door. Her father looked out and said, "It's your friends again."

Sara looked out the side window. "Ohhh no," she moaned. "I can't go out to play with them," she pleaded. "I- I'm not feeling well." More than half true was good enough for her.

"Too much cream filling, I'd bet. Your own fault. Alright, Sara, go on up to your room. I'll talk to them."

With enormous relief, Sara mounted the steps and returned to her bedroom, to her new bed, and tried to shut out memories of everything that had happened to her on that bed so far. She took a tissue and wiped the reminders off her face and out of her hair. She undressed, put on a pale green nightie, and got into bed, so if her father came up she could keep pretending to be sick. She was glad she took the precaution when a knock sounded at her bedroom door.

"Come in," she said.

A dozen boys pushed their way through the door. The last one in shut it. "What are you doing here!?" she screamed, cowering on her bed and pulling the blanket up over herself. She knew most of them from when they had come over to 'play' with her, when she had been forced to pretend she was tied in the 'fancy crap' rape therapy outfit, and forced to walk awkwardly from the main street into their back alley, naked, to be raped until they finally let her go home.

"Your father said we should come in and play with you to cheer you up," one of the alley boys explained with a grin. "He's just going to watch tv, but he said we shouldn't wander around the house, just stay in your bedroom. So here we are!"

A few remarked at the bed. Another opened her closet. One boy saw a key in a lock, and knelt to pull open the drawer, then pulled out several kinds of ropes and showed them off to the other boys. A boy in a blue t-shirt picked up her panties from the floor. "Guess she wore this to school today, right guys? I bet she's not wearing any panties now!" he smirked.

"I'll get this crap out of the way," a boy said, yanking the sheet and blanket out of her hands and down to the end of the bed and pushing them over the edge. Two boys held her arms, as two other boys leaned over the wide bed, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her legs apart.

"No!! Stop!" she wailed. "Go! No, I mean stop! And go away!"

The two boys on either side of her pulled her ankles to drag her toward the center of the long bed. Her arms pointed to two corner posts, and her legs pointed to the other two corner posts of her bed. She kicked and squirmed and struggled, but they were just too many and too strong for her. And too eager.

The boy in the blue t-shirt laughed. "I was right!"

The oldest boy pulled a thick leather strap from his pocket and snapped it taut between his fists. "He told us to come in and play with you, but he didn't say we had to cheer you up. Believe me, we don't plan to. If you even think about screaming, or telling anyone, we'll make this a lot worse than you could ever imagine. Get your hands away! Fine. Get her hands away for me, guys. Open your face. Wider, or this'll hurt a lot worse than it has to. Fine, I don't care how much it hurts if you don't. That's better. See how it tucks in under her teeth, top and bottom? Can't come out until we take it out, that way. Doesn't even need to be tied."

"Yyyaaaaayyhheee! Yyhhhhl!!" Sara screamed, struggling vainly. The leather strap in her mouth muted her scream to a mere whimper.

Jim Carson sat in his recliner downstairs and picked up his new remote control. After the rest of the crew his boss had arranged for had finished taking the bed upstairs and getting it in place, Ken, the electrical expert guy, had done the final electrical tests, to make sure the lights were all working, he'd said. On the way out, Ken had surprised him by handing him a new remote control for his television, saying it was better than the remote control he already had, and to give it a try.

He looked at it closely, recognising familiar controls that didn't seem to apply to a television. He set the channel to the news using his old remote, then hit Fast Forward on the new one. Nothing happened. He pressed several other buttons with no effect, including '+Hr' once and its opposite a few times. He tried Pause, Step, Rewind, and Mute, with no better luck. 'Well, what did I expect?' he sighed. 'It's just a tv. There's nothing there to rewind.' He reached out to set it down and get the remote that worked, but missed, knocking the new remote off the table to fall against the table leg.

The news shut off instantly, replaced by a dark screen, except for a white "8" that appeared in the corner briefly.

He retrieved the fallen remote. Curiously, he picked it up and examined it again. He hit Rewind and nothing happened. He pressed the 7. A "7" appeared on the screen briefly. He tried some buttons again, once again with no visible effect, until he hit other numbers. The screen briefly showed a "3" then "4" then "5" as he pressed those numbers. When he hit 8 and it repeated the white "8" he noticed a dim line at the bottom of the screen that he hadn't seen before. He saw a button labeled "Brightness" and hit it. The line brightened a little. As he held it, the screen came to life - well, still life, anyway - as it showed the door of a room in a house. He felt like he'd seen it before, but he couldn't quite tell. While he tried to recall where he'd seen that door, the door swung open, and a man backed into the room, leaving the door open. The man turned to face him.

He jabbed the Pause button and the scene paused. The man on the screen was him, and he finally realised that the door was the door to Sara's bedroom upstairs. He left it on rewind awhile longer, until a man and a girl with her hands over her eyes backed out of the room and the door closed. He pressed Play and watched himself enter the room with Sara covering her eyes, until they moved out of sight. He hit a few numbers until he saw himself and Sara standing beside the bed. He realised he was seeing the view from one of the self-lighting mirrors. He hit Mute and the sound came back on: "... another one on the other side just like it, and larger ones on each end." Grabbing his other remote, he turned the tv volume down so he could still barely hear it.

"Very interesting," he mused, and sat back in his recliner to play with the remote. He quickly found its volume control button. He wondered what the Now button would do.

"... get her first today, you said!" the tv murmured. The screen showed two boys looking very excited but didn't show what they were looking at. He quickly hit Mute to silence it completely. He hit the numbers in order. Well, he intended to, but he stopped at 3 and stared, went back to 2, slowly turned up the sound, and alternated between them for a very long time.

Hours later, Sara's father called upstairs. "It's Sara's bedtime, and some of the rest of you might need to get home, too." On the television screen, several boys turned their heads. A hand moved across the screen, blocking the view for a second.

A boy opened the door to her bedroom and called down, "My parents don't care when I get home." Other boys called out "Me neither," and "Same here," but a couple of them grumbled bitterly and left. Ten boys stayed.

"Alright, but it's Sara's bedtime," he called again. "You can stay as long as she's in bed," her father insisted.

"She is," the first boy called downstairs. Laughter sounded behind him before the door closed.

"Hear that, Sara?" the television snickered, the voice offscreen, just barely audible to him. "We can stay for as long as you're in bed! Your dad said so. I think that's going to be a long time."

"MMmmmaaaahhw!" the television whimpered. "YYyyaaaawww aauww!" it bawled. Jim sat back and made himself comfortable. Oh how he had wished he could watch.

A couple hours later, her father called upstairs again. "You all have to call it a night now," he stated as politely as possible. "It's eleven and Sara has to get her sleep. She has her before-school and after-school activities tomorrow, besides school of course. I'll be up in a minute."

A full minute later, as promised, he entered the bedroom. Sara lay on her bed, covered by a thin sheet, only her face showing. Ten boys stood around the bed or sat on her dresser or the windowsill. All four bright lights of the bed lit the room, and her, with perfect even light, as he'd designed it to do.

Sara looked at him. Underneath the sheet, she was completely naked. The boys had taken the last minute to remove her gag and throw the sheet over her, and threaten that if she even tried to tell him anything they'd make her regret it.

She lay on the bed with her arms spread wide, tied by twine to upside-down hooks on the sides of the bed, her hands barely covered by the sheet. Her ankles were similarly secured to hooks so she couldn't move her legs. Her feet near the edges of the bed, her legs spread wide, in fact her whole body, made an obvious mound in the thin sheet, probably even a little fold showing her pussy, she thought. Both her dress and her green nightie were thrown to the floor by the bed, along with her panties, so she clearly couldn't be wearing any of them. Her eyes were red from crying and she didn't even have a pillow under her head since the boys had taken it away as unnecessary and thrown it on the floor by her nightie.

Her father must realise what was happening, and know the boys must have tied her that way, she was sure, so she didn't need to say anything. They couldn't blame her for him seeing what was obvious. She kept quiet, waiting for him to speak, waiting for them to get what they deserved at last.

Her father spoke. "Alright, you can all give her a good-night kiss before you go. Sara, you thank each of them for coming in and playing with you."

"Daaaddy-" Sara started to say.

A boy quickly knelt by her, poised to kiss her. "What was that you were saying?" he whispered. She kept still.

"You heard me, Sara," her father said, moving to the end of her bed and crossing his arms. "Be polite and thank them."

Sara cringed. She looked at the boy leaning over her. "Th- thank you for coming in and playing with me."

The boy leaned closer. "If you even try to tell anyone..." he hissed, without finishing. He kissed her and backed away with a grin.

The oldest boy knelt by her, looking amused.

"Thank you for coming in and playing with me," Sara squeaked.

He leaned forward and whispered, "Which did you like best, me playing with you, or me coming in you?" He kissed her and stood without waiting for an answer.

Two boys at once knelt on opposite sides of the bed, leaned forward, and kissed her at the same time. One casually put his hand on her inner thigh and rubbed her, not an inch from her pussy, as they kissed her. Both of them had raped her within the previous twenty minutes, not being the first times they had, nor even the first that evening. 'Please, oh please, Daddy, oh please see!! Please see!!!' she thought desperately. Sara looked straight at her father, standing at the end of her bed watching the scene. Tears flowed from her, but he only waited patiently, having no objections, as the two boys pressed their faces against hers between them. She finally thanked them for playing with her, and other boys took their places.

Sara thanked each of the other six boys in turn as they leaned close and kissed her with her father watching, while she lay stretched out naked on her bed covered in only one thin sheet.

"See you early in the morning, Sara," her father said, and left the room first.

The boys peeked out the door to see he had gone downstairs and sat to watch television again. A couple of boys yanked the sheet off of her, pulling it past the end of the bed, so Sara once again lay completely exposed to them, helpless, and naked. "You can get out of the twine by breaking it strand by strand," a boy said, "but you better not fall asleep before you finish!"

"See you tomorrow, same time," a boy warned her. "You can say you're not feeling well again, if you want, but if you don't want us to come in after you, you better come out looking eager to play."

"Tomorrow's tuesday," Sara cried. "I- I have to- to go-"

"Oh, right," a boy nodded. "See you here wednesday, then, same time, and most of us will see you thursday, too, going one direction or the other."

Leaving the bright lights of the bed on full, the boys left, smiling, and descended the stairs. "Thanks for asking us to come in," the oldest said to her father cheerfully while leaving the house. "Her," he finished, just outside the door. The other boys laughed.

When all the boys were gone, Jim briefly considered watching the Tonight show, his longtime favorite since Johnny and Ed, but picked up the new remote instead. He knew of a much more entertaining show to watch.

2 -Hr -Hr -Hr -Hr -Hr -Hr Play...

"-even need to be tied." "Yyyaaaaayyhheee! Yyhhhhl!!" "Get busy with her ankles. Is there..."

He paused it and moved his recliner closer to the television so he could hear better without making it louder. He also wanted to see it better. He hit Play again.

"... any place to tie them to?" "Aaauuww! Aaahhh!! Aahh iihh! Ohhhhh aahhAAayyy! EEeee!" "Cool! Check these out, down here! Same on the other side?" "If you mean the hooks, then yes." "Perfect! And we can use these for her wrists when you're ready." "AAUuuuwww!!" "Careful with the nightie. It's caught on her chin." "OOoohhhh!! Ohhhww ohhh ohhhhhww!" "Keep fighting us, and we'll just rip it to shreds. That what ya want?" "Oohhhoooh!" "Got it. Someone take this. Those wrist cords ready yet?" "Here's one of 'em." "Make sure they're tight." "AAUUUHHwwwhhh!!" "Here's the other." "YYAAUUhwwwhhh! UUuhhhww! Uhhhaawww!" "I get her first today, you said!"

He picked up the remote control again. Oh how he had wished he could watch. Rewind... Play...

"-ool today, right guys? I bet she's not wearing any-"

Rewind... Play... Pause... Play... Pause... Play... Rewind... Play...

Now...

BR&T date: Tuesday, 9 April 1996

The screen, accompanied by soft whimpers and crying, showed a girl stretched between the sides of a very wide canopy bed, picking at the threads of twine binding her wrist to an upside-down hook. Under bright but soft and even light all around, her naked body filled the view, centered on her wide open pussy. "Uhh- uhhhn..." she moaned. Rewind, Play. "Uhh- uhhhn... awhhw..." she moaned and cried.

Jim thought. 'It looks like I can replay anything, even six hours earlier, from any of eight different views. I doubt very much that all of that is on a recording here in this house. That cable Ken said was for the lights did seem pretty thick. How many other guys are watching her right now? How many will watch her later, and how much later? How many of them know her? How many guys enjoyed watching her open her mouth to let the boy shove that gag in, while others worked on getting her nightie off, as much as I did?' He looked thoughtfully at the remote control. 'Can this be the only one, or are there others? Of her? Or of other girls?' He briefly examined the control, looking for buttons he hadn't tried.

The girl on the screen squirmed, sobbed quietly, and kept picking at the twine on her wrist. She broke the last strand of twine and got one hand free, but couldn't reach her other wrist with it. Trying to stretch that far pulled the cords on her ankles tighter, making her wince and whimper until she gave up. She looked down at her nakedness on display under the perfect lighting from her father's gift, sobbed, and twisted her other hand around to start working on the next cord one strand at a time.

'I'll try them later,' her father decided.