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

BR&T date: Friday, 11 August 1995

There was nothing she could do for her little sister, Ivana. The men on the bus would either leave her alone, or do whatever they wanted to do to her. Elisa felt almost certain it would be the latter, but she was as helpless with regard to Ivana's fate as she was with her own, so she tried to put it out of her mind.

Elisa barely squeaked when the hand on her shoulder shoved her into a seat. In the dark of the bus, in the coal-black night, she hadn't had any warning, but he had been counting the backs of other seats as they passed. With a tentative sense of relief, she found the seat empty. Sometimes it wasn't, and that was usually worse.

The man followed her into the seat, his hand sliding down her arm until he gripped her wrist, which he quickly twisted up behind her back. His other hand slid under her hair behind her neck, squeezed, and forced her forward, pushing her chin hard against the back of the seat ahead of her before she had a chance to sit.

She heard Ivana squeal abruptly, across the bus aisle. Her slim hope for Ivana's safety disappeared, but with her chin forced down on the seat, she couldn't call out a warning, and the noise of the bus drowned out even her despairing whimper.

She wondered which man would be going first this night, and what he would do to her. The empty seat had ruled out a few of the worst ones. The hand yanked up on her arm and slipped a cord tightly over her wrist, a loop of thin cord with no slack between it and the luggage shelf high above the seat. The cord held her wrist raised behind her back. Sharp pain stabbed through her shoulder. "UUuuww!" she squealed, raising herself up on tip-toe as far as she could, to slightly relieve the strain. The hand in the dark found her free arm, bent it back as forcefully as the first, and twisted another loop of cord onto it as before. Elisa found herself helpless within seconds, terrified, and tormented from pain in both shoulders, most of her weight on her chin, the rest on her outstretched toes and her slender wrists.

If only he would speak, Elisa thought, she might tell who it was so she would know what to expect. Not that it would help her much to know, of course.

She felt fumbling at the buttons on the back of her light summer dress. A second later, the narrow straps across her shoulders slid off and dangled loosely. An instant later, the dress itself began to slide down her chest, encountering no resistance, of course, since there was nothing to stop it or even slow it down. When the top of her dress made it to her waist, the hands pulling it slid back up, got another grip, and tugged it the rest of the way down to the floor. Elisa's stretched toes made no obstacle to the man yanking the dress away. She blinked as a rare streetlight peeked in through the window and leered at her, revealing the surreal scene to the silent man. Sobbing, Elisa hung from her chin and wrists, already naked but for her panties, socks, and shoes.

That was no surprise to her, and she still couldn't tell who it was, since any number of the men would have started on her the same way.

A hand forcefully bent her knee and another gripped her ankle and lifted her foot. Elisa moaned as her weight shifted to her one remaining tippy-toe, her wrists and chin pressed harder, her shoulders aching. As she expected, the hand pulled her shoe off in a quick tug, and her sock followed. As soon as he released her ankle, she frantically swung her leg back beneath her, so she could get her toe in position before he could pull up her other foot, as she knew for certain he would. She soon heard her other shoe slap down onto to the bus seat, and impatient fingers pulled off her other soft lacy white sock.

Only one thing left, and she had no hope of keeping that. Bawling, she felt the fingers pull away the waistband of her panties and slide them down, past her thighs, past her knees, past her ankles, and momentarily denying her even the meager support of her frail toes. "UUuuhhhhhhwww, uhhhhhwww, uuuuhwww," she whined. Though she was completely naked, completely helpless, and in agony, she still didn't know which one he was, hadn't even eliminated many, as most of the men on the bus loved to have her just that way.

She finally got a clue when the hand returned to her ankle and lifted again. But the second time, he stretched her leg to the side instead, and found pre-tied to the end of the bus seat another cord, ready for use. Elisa tried to pull away, but the strong adult arm forced the frail seven-year-old girl's leg onto the seat and slid the loop of cord over her foot. He yanked the cord extremely tight around her ankle, but otherwise left it slightly loose, rather than taking up all the slack to the seat.

Elisa kicked and kicked frantically but uselessly as the man forced her other leg up onto the seat and tied her other ankle likewise, spreading her legs wide apart. The naked bawling little girl essentially knelt on the seat, bent forward with almost all of her weight on her chin against the top of the forward seat, her arms twisted painfully high behind her back, her legs spread wide apart, ready for whatever the man wanted to do to her next. "AAAaaaawwwww!!" she wailed, "awwww, wwwww, uhhwwww, awwwwwhh!" She knew that whatever he wanted to do, no matter which man it was, she was going to hate it. "UUUuuuuhhhwww, uuuuhhwww," she sobbed, no louder than the steady drone of the bus.

The man stood beside her in the seat. Elisa felt a hand slide under her chest, rubbing her little titties. She felt it slide down to her soft stomach. 'No! Noooo! Ohhh nnnoooo! No! No! Noooooohhhh!' she screamed to herself, 'Anyone else! Please, please! Not hiiimm!! NNNnnnnnoo!' But her wishes were as unimportant to the cosmos as they were to the man beside her.

The hand slid to her soft belly... and pressed upward, lifting her ever so slightly, but more importantly, making firmer contact. Elisa tensed all over, and an instant later her whole body jerked in an involuntary spasm as a narrow rod struck her tender bare bottom. The hand pressed into her belly harder, the better to feel her body reflexively convulse as the rod struck again. WhacCCK! Elisa's arms tried to lift her away from the pain, only causing her greater pain in her shoulders and wrists. Her legs yanked inward, stopped within inches by the strong thin cords cutting deep into the tender flesh of her ankles. Neither act, of course, made any difference to the cause of her torment. She howled in agony, and tensed, and strained, but it did her no good. It never did. WWHHhhaaacck! the rod stung her again, and again, and again, and again, and again.

Her body involuntarily jerked with each sharp stroke, to the pure delight of the man who held his hand in perfect position to feel it, the man who swung the rod down against her for that reason.

Feeling the time was right for even closer contact, he moved his hand down her belly, to her pussy. He smirked at Elisa's desperate squirming. He loved feeling her try to avoid him; that's why he always left a little slack in the cords on her ankles. Not her wrists, of course. With her ankles slightly loose, she could still squirm wonderfully even while tightly and helplessly suspended by her wrists, so he had no reason to leave any slack above.

He found her soft delicate pussy lips with his fingers, and slid a finger into her, working it in deep. He could feel Elisa trembling, even sense her dread, and the moment of tense anticipation an instant before the rod struck her ass. CrrrackK! Even her pussy muscles involuntarily reacted to the brutal pain, squeezing his finger. WWwwhhhacccck!

"Eeeeeiiiiiiee!" Elisa squeaked, straining and twisting, sobbing out an unceasing thin squeal of anguish. She couldn't escape and she knew it: not from him, and not from any of the others, not ever, the same as always. If she listened, she could hear the sounds of Ivana's terrified whimpering coming from the seat beside her. She tried not to listen.

He knew that whenever he went first, everything else that happened to her for the rest of the night would be that much worse for her, for the lingering burning pain in her ass cheeks, and he knew that she hated him going first for exactly that reason. The other men also knew how much she hated it, and often gave him first shot at her just to increase her torment during their turns. He grinned, and made sure to do a thorough job.

He had plenty of time. He always had plenty of time for Elisa.