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DELIVERANCE This story is a work of erotic fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used here fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. [ part 5 ] Cruel Passions Charlie Reed woke up as he always did, a few minutes after his wife, his cock rampant. Rolling over towards where Mary had been laying, he groaned softly into her pillow, as he smelt the fragrance of lavender and that something else she always wore. The radio was on in the kitchen, but he was able to hear a knock at the door and the faint voice of a child from the Priory talking to his wife. He rose and walked over to the window to try and glimpse who it was, but by then Mary had already invited them in. Charlie wasn’t annoyed that a child was visiting them so early on a Sunday morning. He had learnt long ago that Mary was always full of surprises. A visit from a child like this usually meant that he was in for a treat. The bedroom door opened and Mary popped her head round, a cheeky grin on her face. “We have a visitor!” Mary said, stepping aside to push a nervous but pretty little girl forward, her eyes all blotchy and red from crying, and her mouth turned down into a pout. “This is Molly Jenkins! Miss Baker has sent her to me to be punished, isn’t that correct,” Mary asked. “Yes, Miss!” Molly replied, in a whisper. Charlie looked at the child guessing that she couldn’t be much older than ten and thinking that her lovely curly hair, which was parted to one side in the latest fashion, did nothing for her round face and little mouth. “How old are you Molly?” Charlie asked. “Ten, Sir,” Molly answered. As Charlie turned from the window, Molly caught sight of his large erect cock and wailed, immediately turning in an effort to run, but Mary caught her and held on to her tightly. “Molly was invited to Miss Baker’s room last night, but she was very rude and refused to give her any pleasure, isn’t that right?” Mary asked curtly. “Miss! It was horrible. I didn’t want to!” Molly said, starting to wail and cry. “Miss Baker wasn’t in the mood to punish Molly this morning, so she has sent her to me,” Mary explained. “Would you like to help?” Mary asked teasingly. “Does that mean that I can relieve this?” Charlie replied stroking his cock, and staring at the pretty little girl wondering just what she would look like naked. Molly turned her head away in disgust, struggling with Mary but she was unable to escape her strong grip. “I think that can be arranged,” Mary said, with a smile. “No please! You can’t make me,” Molly screamed. The sound filled the small bedroom and had both adults wincing with pain. “Really! We’ll see about that,” Mary replied. Mary, unable to cover her ears like her husband, pushed the screaming child down onto the bed. Charlie sat down beside her and forced his hand across her mouth, stilling the awful noise. “Now what?” he asked. Molly’s kicking and squirming had lifted her dress, and the sight of her young thighs made his cock pulse with new life. His eyes drifted up and down her slender body, wondering what sort of punishment Mary had in mind for the pretty little girl. Mary grinned sadistically as she showed Charlie the gag she was going to put into her mouth. Molly cried out, but the gag went in easily to stifle her screams. Mary then produced some flex to bind the child’s wrists – not to each other, as Charlie would have done, but a wrist to each ankle, forcing the girl to become bowed. Charlie enjoyed binding her and grinned into the child's tear filled eyes as he finished. His hands itched to stroke her thighs and inch her dress upwards. He also imagined just how her tiny breasts would look and feel, too small to need support or even require restraint. “Any ideas?” Mary asked him as she stood and stretched her back. Charlie shook his head, more than willing to go along with anything his more experienced wife might have in mind. Her lazy grin told him that she had some ideas of her own though. “Remove her clothes! While I go and fetch some things,” Mary said with a sadistic grin, passing him a pair of sewing scissors before leaving the room. Molly whimpered behind her gag, as Charlie now turned his attention towards her, his smile as feral as his wife’s had been, as he began to contemplate her punishment. “You're going to be very sorry that you didn't pleasure Miss Baker last night you little tart,” Charlie told her. He groaned as he saw that her struggles had caused her little white panties to be crushed deep into her anal crease, leaving her lovely little bottom almost bare. She continued to struggle, mewing into her gag and staring up at him, horrified by what he was doing. He didn't care. It was so easy just to take her knee and lever it from its twin, then to lift her dress to see just how tightly her little white panties stretched over her pouting pubis. Weeping, she tried evading him, yet it was impossible with her wrists tied to her ankles. It only served to excite him further, and he took a few moments to roughly fondle her while she struggled, feeling how smooth her little limbs were. Her muffled cries rose an octave and her struggling grew, yet nothing stopped him baring her flat belly, nor sliding his large hands across the pale skin, then inhaling her scent whilst he kissed and tongued her little navel. Tears ran freely down Molly’s face, but the sounds she made through her gag only served to heat Charlie’s blood as he used the scissors to cut away her dress and expose her little breasts. While she wept, unable to do anything to stop him, Charlie roughly pinched her tiny nipples, licking his lips as they darkened and swelled. He moved so her thigh would touch his cock and when she moved, moved with her, grinning down at her obvious discomfort. Prying her knees wide apart, Charlie stared at the outline of her labia through her stretched panties. Breathing heavily, his eyes hot with lust, he picked up the scissors and eased them under the cotton gusset, his breath now shortening as Molly wailed into her gag and trembled in fear. Charlie took his time, running the scissor blade under the cotton while his cock dribbled with excitement. Then, at last, he cut the fabric at its top so it would fall and leave nothing in the way of his view. Sobbing her little heart out, Molly tried closing her thighs and then twisting to one side, anything to hide herself from the horrible man with the large hands and the hot, scary eyes. Yet as soon as she did, his hands were on her knees, stretching them apart again, not seeming to care how much he was hurting her. He had eyes only for the smooth curve of her labia and the delicate fold of skin inside that cradled her clitoris, and below, unlike his wife’s, her enticingly tight and hairless little cunt. Mary returned and laughed. “Getting to know her, are you Charlie?” she asked, a stout pole, rope and leather goods tumbling out of her arms and onto the bed. “I didn't think you'd mind,” he murmured, blushing as he let go of the child’s thighs. Mary blushed, her eyes catching sight of his cock. She embraced him and kissed him hotly on the mouth, loving it when his arms came round her, a large hand planting itself on her bottom. “Anything to keep you happy my love!” she said softly. Then smiling she pulled away to pick up the stout pole she had brought with her. “Shall we get her ready?” she asked pointedly. Molly screamed and cried, and when to exhausted to scream, she just cried and begged with her eyes. None if it changed what they did to her. The pole was fastened behind Molly’s knees to keep them apart, and then a stout rope was attached to the middle of the pole and cast over a hock in the ceiling. With Mary supporting the girl, Charlie had no trouble pulling on the rope until they had her suspended upside down, her thighs wide apart and her hands still tied to her ankles. Mary’s face glowed as she stood behind the upturned girl and gently caressed her smooth little cunt, tracing the rounded labia and long clitoris hood. Charlie stood close to the child, his cock nudging her upper chest to leave a trail of his excitement across her smooth skin. His large and rough hands joined those of his wife in caressing the child’s smooth little cunt, marvelling at its tenderness as much at how small and tight it was. Slowly, without having to urge each other, their soft touches became much rougher. Fingers that had delicately spread flesh to part the sticky opening to her dark little cunt now forced the flesh further apart. Husband and wife peered into pink darkness and panted. Fingers that had gently probed the girl's resilient little labia, now gathered the puffy flesh between finger and thumb and squeezed, not stopping until the girl squealed into her gag and contorted in an effort to escape. Mary slid the tip of her finger into her little cunt and licked the flavour from it. Charlie, his eyes glazed with excitement, pressed his broad index finger in, forcing her to squeal and stiffen as it stretched her apart, then he removed his finger, thinly coated with her virgin blood, and licked it. Mary grinned and returned to the bed to take up the leather strap and a short flail. Giving her husband the flail, she took the strap and began laying it hard across Molly's pert little bottom. Charlie smiled and used the flail on the child's front. Husband and wife alternated, Mary striking Molly on her bottom to bring a scream and a lurch from her, then Charlie striking her, anywhere from her budding little breasts to her inner thighs, grinning proudly when she screeched in agony and, again, swayed. Then it was all change, as they walked around the child so Charlie was now at her back, using the flail on flesh recently striped by Mary's strap. Then she in turn began to use the strap on the flesh made a burning pink by the many strands of Charlie’s flail. Molly wept, the overall burning flowing into her masking all but the harshest strokes the couple sometimes used on her. Aching from her attempt to escape, she hung there weeping, taking stroke after stroke until a halt was called. Charlie stood back and looked excitedly at the suspended child. Her skin glowed tenderly from her punishment and now contrasted vividly against the area they'd not yet punished; her sweet little cunt. “Ready?” Mary asked, her eyes gleaming excitedly. Charlie licked his lips, his cock bobbing up in eagerness. “You go first,” he offered, always the gentleman. Swinging the strap so that it wouldn't hit the pole that suspended the girl, Mary struck with force through the child’s parted thighs and grinned with delight as it hit the cunt square on. Immediately, Molly screamed and swayed, contorting herself in an effort to relieve the agony and escape her tormentors. Charlie was awe struck, and massively excited. It was his turn, and he stared at the little girl suspended upside down her little cunt now gleaming with the first stroke from Mary’s strap. Now it was his turn, and he swung the flail, making sure that the pole didn't interfere. The strands whipped into her cunt and Molly screeched in agony again, each screech short as she tried to breathe and sustain her twisting body, her only way to protect herself. As Molly twisted and squirmed, sobbed, panted and screeched in her agony, Mary and Charlie took turns to bring the child’s tender little cunt to a blazing pink, her flesh decorated with the marks of the two punishment tools. They stopped only when the slap of the strap brought a fountain of pee spurting from the crimson folds of her cunt. Molly cried out and wept, but the pee continued like a fountain, to pour down her body. “My god!” Charlie groaned, never having seen anything so exciting. “Do you want her to suck your cock?” Mary asked him excitedly. “Oh yes! I’ll do anything,” he grinned, his cock jerking upwards. “Anything?” she asked. “Will you lick and suck her pee drenched cunt for me?” she begged, her eyes dilating at the very thought of it and sending her excitement shooting upwards. Charlie grinned, and looked straight into Mary’s eyes and licked his lips suggestively. In moments, he had the girl hard up against him, his arms around her waist, holding her tightly as he leant back. Mary was at his knees, slipping the weeping girl's gag from around her mouth to replace it with his aching cock. Without the need to be told, Charlie dropped his mouth to the girl’s pee stained cunt, and eagerly licked and sucked on it, his roughness bringing a fresh scream from Molly, this time vibrating around his cock. Excited beyond anything he'd previously felt, Charlie dug his tongue into her salty little cunt, sucking harshly for the blood he knew was in there and, at the same time, thrust his overexcited cock down her gullet. With a cry that rivalled her own, he was coming. Like a steam train, he shot white steam from his cock head and cried out with pleasure, as he tasted her virginity. Jerk after jerk forced his cock along her gullet before he could finally drag himself away and let her retch and cough, weeping uncontrollably at the way she had been used. They untied her and lowered her gently down, watching with relief as the colour returned to her face and her coughing eased and let her breathe more deeply. Slowly, her crying ebbed and became sniffles, her thighs closed, a hand placed between them coyly protecting herself as her eyes looked nervously from one adult to the other. “Well, have you learnt your lesson?” Mary asked, her arms folded and a stern look on her face, despite all the pleasure she had recently enjoyed. “Yes Miss!” Molly whimpered, chewing her lip nervously. She timidly glanced at the cock and, despite it now being soft and limp, wondered how she'd managed to have so much of it forced down her throat. “Will you be obedient now? Or do I have to punish you again?” Mary asked. “No, no, I'll be good,” Molly quickly answered. “I think that needs to be tested,” Mary told the girl, then turned to her husband to take his cock and squeeze it. “I bet you need a good pee yourself after such a big spend,” she grinned, knowing his habits after two years of marriage. Charlie grinned and nodded, his smile making little Molly quiver and whimper, her eyes lowering to his cock again, staring at it as Mary drew back the foreskin of her husband’s large cock to bare the hole through which he would pee. “Oh no, please don't please,” Molly began to cry. Charlie licked his lips, once more in awe at how much a sobbing young girl could excite him. Yet, with willpower, he made his cock remain flaccid as he approached the child and held his cock for her to suck. “Come on Molly. You know you have to,” he breathed. “Be good, and I'll pee slowly so it doesn't choke you,” he offered. Molly cried all the harder, knowing she had no choice. Tears running down her cheeks, she took the warm but soft cock in her hand and drew her mouth towards it. Charlie gritted his teeth against the urge to let it harden again as the little girl looked up at him, her eyes large and round, brimming full of tears while her little mouth timidly closed over his cock. “That’s it!” he whispered. Mary hung on to him, watching spellbound as, with a sigh, Charlie let his water flow from him and Molly rapidly swallowed. “Ah yes!” he hissed, his bladder easing as he continued to pee, Molly swallowed rapidly, as if by doing it quickly she wouldn't taste it so much. Coming to an end, he drew away and had her hold her mouth open for the last few spurts, grinning at her revolted look at it forced her to fully taste the tang of his water. Satisfied with her punishment, they stopped and let the child recover before sending away. “Now! Remember Molly, next time you are sent to me to be punished it won't be so easy,” Mary warned, as she stood at the door and watched the crying girl walk slowly and painfully back to the Priory. ****** Charlie didn't see the children from the Priory very often. They were not allowed anywhere near the garage, as the equipment and the cars were considered far too dangerous and valuable. While he worked on the estate’s cars, his mind often wandered to the Priory, wondering just what abuses and punishments the children were receiving, whilst he was stuck in the garage, working hard, ignored by all. As always, when she was able, Mary popped over at lunchtime, to bring him some refreshment. They talked about the news from the war front, the weather, the car that was half out the garage, the bonnet off and the motor half dismantled, and of course what had happened earlier that morning. “You enjoyed punishing Molly, didn’t you?” Mary asked. “Yes! You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, with a worried look. “No! Just as long as these little treats don’t interfere with your ability to pleasure me,” she told him, grinning teasingly. He growled and looked at Mary, admiring the fullness of her figure and the thinness of the dress that she wore. “I’ll show you some real pleasure, tonight!” he promised, his cock starting to stir as he thought of her succulent cunt fully upon him as she rode him, her breasts swaying, flushed by all the excitement. “Good!” she teased. “Just for that, you can have another treat,” she giggled. “What, just like that?” he asked incredulously. Mary laughed at the dumbfounded look on his face and reached across to kiss him. “Charlie! When are you going to realise, that the children have been brought here to Birchwood Grange for only one purpose; to satisfy the sadistic pleasures of their masters and mistresses,” she argued. “So! I could choose a girl, punish her, and then ravish her?” he asked, open-mouthed. Mary nodded. “Boys too!” Mary said, looking at her husband shrewdly. “Boys! Me?” he gasped, his face turning florid. “Haven't you ever wondered what a boy would be like?” she asked him softly. “To be able to punish him, roughly fondle his cock and balls, and then bugger him until he screams,” she murmured. “But I'm a man! It’s not natural,” Charlie told her, his eyes turned away. “But you do want to Charlie, I know you do,” Mary grinned. Charlie took a deep breath and steadied himself. Looking around at the isolated setting he wondered just who apart from his wife would ever know? He shook once more as he began to think about how much of a welcome change it would make. Mary came to him and held him, looking up at his face as she gauged his willingness. “Did you know? That in order to ensure that their anuses are clean, they are given regular enemas,” she explained. “Jesus!” he breathed. “Yes Charlie! Many of the boys are already well practiced in using their tight little anuses to give pleasure,” she whispered, urging him on with thoughts of watching him bugger one of the boys, that handsome big cock of his, forcing the boy’s anus to stretch wider than it had ever done before. “They wouldn't mind. Them up at the Grange?” he asked, his breath having quickened with the thought of doing it. “No! They'll even enjoy abusing him after you’re finished with the little tart,” Mary grinned. She might even invite Victoria to, but she decided not to tell her husband that as yet. Later on perhaps, when he felt more open about his pleasures, then perhaps he would consent to putting on a display. “You can find a boy that easily then?” he asked breathlessly. “Yes! Do you want me to go and fetch one now?” she whispered hotly. Charlie gulped and nodded. “Go on then,” he panted. Mary hurried to the Priory and, finding Miss Park in her office, she explained exactly what she wanted. Whilst Amy was off looking for a suitable boy, Mary contacted Victoria and invited her to the garage to watch the boy’s ordeal unobserved. It didn’t take long for Miss Park to return with a handsome young boy. “This is Paul,” Miss Park said. The boy had no idea why Miss Park had chosen him, and was certain that he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Has he been trained?” Mary asked. “To a certain extent! We wouldn’t want too much training to take away the element of surprise, now would we?” Miss Park said, with a smile. “No! We wouldn’t want that,” Mary replied, with a sly grin. Going over to the filing cabinet, Miss Park took out Paul’s journal and spread the photographs over the desk. Standing close, Paul stared wide-eyed at them, his mind busy trying to come to terms with what he was seeing. There were photographs of him masturbating and in the act of cleaning his anus after an enema. There were others of him being made to ride the punishment horse and sitting astride the masturbation bench, in fact all the naughty things that he had been made to do since coming to Birchwood Grange. “You’re not going to show those to my parents, are you?” Paul asked nervously. “Oh no,” Miss Parks reassured him, clearing them away. “But we might, if you aren’t a good boy!” Satisfied with what she had seen, Mary marched Paul out into the hall. “Where are we going?” he asked. “For some special training,” she told him, hurrying him out into the courtyard. “You're not going to hurt me, are you?” he begged. “Not if you're good,” she spat, her face flushed as she imagined the boy’s anus being prised wide by her husband's large cock. The thought of licking Charlie's cock as it slid in and out of Paul’s tight anus came to her and her step faltered with the sensation blooming in her cunt. “Are you all right Miss,” Paul asked nervously. Mary seemed ever so breathless for such a short walk, and now she stumbled again while her face raged, like she had a fever or something. “I'm fine Paul, let's just hurry along now,” she urged. Victoria would have had plenty of time to get there by now and her husband would be waiting for them impatiently, chewing his nails as he sometimes did. When they arrived, Charlie was as she'd left him, sitting on the mudguard of a car. He stopped when he saw them, but for a brief glance at her, his attention was full on the handsome young boy beside her. Mary smiled, imagining the thoughts that must be going through his mind following the years of suppressed fantasies and longings. “This is Paul,” she told him, drawing the boy in front of her and roughing his hair until he complained. “Paul! This is Charlie, my husband,” Mary said, with a smile. “I’m pleased to meet you Sir. Do you work on all these cars?” Paul asked, his hand extended. “Yes, all of them,” Charlie nodded, smiling as he shook the boy’s hand. “How old are you, Paul?” Charlie asked. “Twelve, Sir,” he replied nervously. “I suggest that we go into the garage. It will be much more private in there,” Mary said. Anxious that someone might call, so she put up the closed sign. Following Charlie into the garage, Mary marched Paul over to stand in front of a small grubby window at the back of the garage. This window had a small hole in it, through which she knew Victoria would be able to watch. The action would be reflected through mirrors strategically placed around the garage. Kneeling down in front of Paul, Mary quickly drew off his shorts in a well-practiced manoeuvre, taking the boy by surprise, and leaving him naked from the waist down. Then she pinched his bottom causing him to squirm and rise up on his toes. Placing her arm through his dancing thighs she squeezed his balls and roughly fondling his cock until it became erect. “Turn around!” Mary ordered, slapping his bottom to emphasise her command. “Please, Please! That hurts!” Paul cried out. “Are you going to obey? Or am I going to have to punish you?” Mary asked curtly. “Please, Miss! I’ll obey,” he whimpered. “Good! Now masturbate!” Mary ordered, a harsher tone in her voice. Paul started to masturbate and Mary let him build up a steady rhythm and waited until he was just about to come. “You aren’t going to come yet, are you Paul?” Mary warned. “I can't help it Miss!” he gasped, his eyes wide with the sudden realisation of what was going to happen. “I order you not to come!” Mary said, grabbing hold of his cock and squeezing his balls, but it was too late. Paul squealed, much like a girl, flinging his loins forward and ejaculating into Mary’s hand. “I told you not to come!” she scolded the boy, her brows lowered in mock anger, wiping his little bottom with her sticky hand. “Please Miss, I didn't mean to come!” he said, beginning to cry and shuffle back from her. “You need to learn self-control,” Mary told him, marching him over towards a workbench near the window. “Please, Miss! What do you mean?” he asked, anxiously. “What I mean is! You are going to try again, this time with much more control,” Mary, said. Paul looked dumbfounded. “Masturbate!” Mary ordered. Mary watched as he built up a steady rhythm. “Faster!” she ordered. Charlie, hovering nearby, his trousers bulging with the anticipation of seeing Paul being punished, surged forward to clear a space on the workbench, and then stopped as a thought occurred to him. “What about this?” he suggested. He reached for a vice, turning the heavy metal bar that would unwind the wooden edged jaws and create a space between them. Mary looked at it for a moment as if at first not understanding him, then a smile crept slowly over her face, her eyes gleaming as she looked up at him lovingly. “You're stronger than me, so you can hold him in position while I close the vice,” she suggested. “Stop!” Mary said, interrupting the boy. They changed positions, Charlie panting as he got to hold the naked boy in front of him, steering him towards the vice while he fought with growing hysteria to keep away from it. Finally though, panting with exertion and his ears ringing from the screams of the flaying boy, Mary closed the jaws of the vice around Paul’s excited cock, until a new type of squeal told her that he was firmly secured. Paul immediately tried turning the handle, so they tied his wrists together with flex, tying it off to a hook on the wall so it also served to force his young and pale body forward. “Oh, doesn't he look divine!” Mary cried, reaching for her husbands cock to feel how hard he had grown. Paul did look beautiful; there was no doubt about that, his tears were dripping onto the workbench while he looked beseechingly over his shoulders at his tormentors. His wrists worked to try and get free while his loins did the exact opposite; remaining completely still, his cock sandwiched tightly between the wooden jaws of the vice. “What now?” Charlie asked. “Now! We warm up his bottom!” she told him, reaching for the first tool that came to hand. It was a length of flex similar to that they used to tie his wrists, which she tested in her hand while licking her lips. They both stood back, Mary to give her arm room to swing, and Charlie to watch the boy’s lovely bottom being whipped. Watching Mary swing back held him spellbound, and then the arm came down and the flex landed solidly on his out thrust bottom, pushing his pale flesh inwards with its weight before his bottom cheeks bounced it away. Paul was a picture as he howled in pain, yet he remained still, his tortured cock held tightly in the vice. The look of the boy’s anguish and suffering couldn't have been any more exciting, and across his bottom, was the lovely mark of the flex, a vivid and sore red. “Now! You try,” Mary suggested, rubbing her shoulder. The flex looked that much thinner in Charlie's meaty grip, but he held just the tip so that most of it would land heavily against the boy's bottom, once more impacting deep to bring another bright mark beside the first and leave the boy shuddering and breathless and pleading to be forgiven. Stopping only long enough to ease the cramp in his cock, Charlie bent his arm back and delivered another searing strike, his eyes attentive on how deeply the flex sank into his bottom before springing back out again. Paul was squealing again, and squirming like a girl, his imprisoned cock holding his loins still, but not his thighs or arms. “You poor boy!” Mary crooned, rubbing his tender bottom and licking the tears from his face. “Does it hurt?” she asked, her fingers now darting between his bottom cheeks to feel the smallness of his anus. Paul sobbed as he nodded his head, no words coming from him as his crying continued. “What you need is something to sooth you,” Mary suggested, kneeling the better to pull his little bottom cheeks apart and gaze avidly between them. His anus was all she expected from a twelve-year-old, tightly knotted in the depths of his anal crease. Paul looked over his shoulder, as he felt his bottom cheeks being pried apart and, at the same time, saw Charlie starting to undo his trousers. Slowly, he began to understand what was going to happen, and his whimpering started to fill the garage. Grinning, Mary eased her finger in and out of his anus, enjoying the feel of his tight passage and the overall look of virginity the young boy held. Her finger having done all it could, she used both hands to pry him as open as possible, dropped her mouth to lick him and spit saliva into his anus. Behind her, preparing himself, Charlie spat on his cock and rubbed the saliva into it before grinning at his wife. “Are you ready?” Mary asked, holding Paul’s bottom cheeks apart as she moved to one side to make way for her husband. Charlie stepped up behind the boy, his head hardly reaching his chest and, bending his knees, slid his cock forward. The bulbous head and thick long shaft looked obscene pressed up against the lily-white flesh of the boy's bottom. Mary drew it downwards and crooned as the head lodge up against the impossibly small anal ring. “Don't worry. I've seen boys produce stools just as broad as this fellow,” Mary told Charlie. Patting the veined shaft as it pulsed against the smooth and tender flesh of the sobbing boy’s anus, she pressed her mouth to the side of Charlie’s cock and felt it throb with desire as she dribbled saliva onto it. “Now!” Mary advised. Charlie took a breath and pushed. Paul’s head shot back, his eyes a mirror of his agony as he screamed in pain. Looking into his tear stained eyes, Charlie pushed himself into his anus, then having gained a toehold, used the full weight of his body to ease his cock past his tight sphincter. The boy’s screaming went on and on, stopping only long enough for him to catch his breath. Charlie's thrusts were shorter as each thrust buried that little more of his thick cock into the smooth hot interior where he bathed in the delicious feelings. He pushed, he panted and sobbed, then steeled himself to push again. Beside the boy’s thighs, still on her knees, Mary panted and licked what was left of Charlie’s protruding shaft, her eyes never wider than when watching his huge cock stretch the boy open. Manly groin met tender little bottom and Charlie groaned delightedly, holding himself still the best to feel the quivering, squeezing, and rippling sensations rising from Paul's rectum. It was a delight he'd never experienced before and he groaned with the pleasure, panting with the thought that there would be many more opportunities. With a groan, he eased outwards, his cock now surging with excitement as he saw it dragging the boy’s anal ring along its shaft. And Mary was there, looking up at him with a deep understanding as she licked the underside of his reappearing cock. Paul screeched afresh as the cock turned to be forced back into him, stretching and ripping him all over again, re-entering the space it had made for itself while all the boy could do was sob and weep and beg for no more. The passage made easier, Charlie slid inwards again, loosing his breath to the exquisite sensations. He soaked his cock in the boy's fundaments, certain he was protruding from his belly if he bent down to look. The passage was easing, the boy no longer screaming, but just weeping uncontrollably, his weeping passing through his colon to communicate with Charlie's cock. And then, with each slide outwards, there came the flutter of his wife's tongue along the tender underside, cleaning him and wetting him. Charlie's breath quickened with his pace and his hands gripped the young boy, pulling on his bottom so the child would screech with the pain of having his cock stretched in the vice. With the thrill of the boy screaming, Charlie felt himself explode, a surge of hot seed rushing through his groin, the time taken for it to reach the tip just long enough to push his cock deeper into his anus again, to release it in burning spouts. Exhausted, he slid out, and Mary was upon him, taking his softening member in her mouth to lick and slobber on it, gathering all of the flavour before releasing him to rise and kiss him. “You just wait until tonight!” she promised him with a grin before kissing him again, her mouth tasting earthly as her tongue invaded his mouth. ----- It had been arranged that ten more children would be arriving on the 14:06 train from London and Sir Cecil Morgan; Simon’s contact at the Ministry would be accompanying them. Victoria drove to the station, whilst Mary and Charlie travelled in the small coach that had been charted for the occasion. The train was on time and pulled slowly level with the platform. Sir Cecil Morgan was first off the train followed by the children he was accompanying, seven girls and three boys. “You’ve got your work cut out with this lot, Madam,” he murmured. Victoria smiled and nodded, certainly hoping so, as she helped Mary and Charlie to round them up. One of the girls caught Victoria’s attention because she was chewing and staring arrogantly at her. “Stop chewing please,” Victoria asked politely. “Why should I?” the girl asked, her label already missing. Sensing a challenge Victoria smiled, safe in the knowledge that there would be plenty of time to correct her impertinence later. Shrugging her shoulders Victoria moved on, organising the children onto to the coach, and then following in her car with Sir Cecil. As they travelled back to Birchwood Grange, Sir Cecil gave Victoria a quick résumé on each child. “These children have proved difficult to place,” he explained. “Some of them have been passed on to others as many as three or four times, and by now they're quite lost in the system. I don’t think any of my staff would mind one bit if they disappeared,” he chuckled. “The girls are all very attractive,” Victoria said. “Yes! I have a passion for little girls,” he admitted. “There isn’t one amongst them that I wouldn’t enjoy seeing punished, even raped,” he said, with a grin. “Wilma Brown for instance, the girl you asked to stop chewing, she is lazy and arrogant and in dire need of being taught a very painful lesson!” he told her. “We'll have to see what we can do,” Victoria grinned. “But you'll be competing with my brother. He's has similar passions,” she told him. “Well! Perhaps we could both teach her a painful lesson,” Sir Cecil suggested hopefully. Victoria just laughed and turned the car assuredly through the gates of the estate driving it straight to the garage in order to give the children time to disembark from the coach. After some refreshment at the Grange, Victoria escorted Sir Cecil down to the Priory. When they arrived the boys had drifted apart from the girls and the other girls stood well away from the girl who continued to chew her gum. They locked eyes, the girl's sly smile telling Victoria that she didn't care less what the older woman thought of her. “It’s time to play a little game,” Victoria told Sir Cecil, passing him on to Simon as she went over to Charlie and Mary to explain what she wanted them to do. While Mary ran into the Priory, Charlie made his way round the group of children and waited at the back for Victoria's signal. It wasn't long in coming and Victoria called for their attention and told them she was in charge. “Now listen! Disobedience will be severely punished,” she told them. “Yeah, right!” Wilma Brown laughed, chewing her gum and looking at the others for support. It didn’t come, and the others who were fed up with her arrogant behaviour just laughed. Victoria gave the nod, and Mary and Miss Baker carried out one of the punishment horses from the Priory. Charlie quickly grabbed a hold of Wilma and, as she tried to escape, ripped her blouse. Then it was her hair and arms that he had to fend off as he dragged the girl kicking and screaming over to the punishment horse where Sir Cecil excitedly helped him to secure the girl. Miss Park who had been watching the spectacle brought the rest of the children from the Priory, and had them stand in a semi circle around the punishment horse. “You can't do this!” One of the new boys shouted angrily. Mary was there in a flash, her face showing her anger as she took him by the hair and pulled his face agonisingly backwards. “Do you want to ride the horse next?” she drawled. Whimpering, the boy shook his head and let himself fall backwards onto the ground. “You can't do this! I'm going to tell on you! You wait till I see a copper!” Wilma screamed, her face red with anger. “That’s it! Tear her clothes off, Charlie,” Victoria told him. The girl's face now turned to outrage and shock as those watching glanced at each other, their mouths suddenly dry as the situation suddenly turned much more daring and dangerous. Charlie stepped forward, and as soon as he touched her, she screamed and squirmed all over again, trying her best to evade him even though she was now bound to the punishment horse without any hope of escape. Even through her screams, the sound of tearing cloth came clearly to all who watched. Girls pressed their knuckles into their mouths in horror and the boys stared wide-eyed at the breasts of the girl that had quite suddenly been bared. Another tear and her dress were ripped away to reveal the fancy white knickers she was wearing. Wilma wailed, then turned angry eyes on her tormentors. “I'll get you for this, you see if I don't!” she spat, staring daggers at Victoria. “So you're Wilma Brown are you? You don't learn very quickly, do you my girl?” Victoria murmured, nodding to one of the boys who Mary had just brought out of the Priory and was holding fanned out, a number of punishment implements for her to choose from. Victoria chose a neatly prepared birch rod and waved it menacingly in front of the girl. “Have you any idea how much this birch is going to hurt?” she asked, her smile broadening as she watched excitedly as Charlie took a hold of her knickers and ripped them off. Wilma screamed as the pull on the waistband cut into her lower belly before tearing, then swung her tear-full eyes back towards Victoria, swearing and snarling at the woman in her hate. She screamed and squirmed, fighting to be freed, at least enough to try and hide her cunt and anus from being obscenely exposed between her parted thighs by the girth of the large wooden horse. “You’re all perverts! I'll get the lot of you, you see if I don't!” she told them, her head turning from side to side to look at the wide-eyed boys. “Tell me! Have you ever been birched, Wilma?” Victoria asked laying the rod against the tender skin and watching her tense the cheeks of her lovely bottom. “I'll kill you! You wait, I'll kill you!” Wilma screamed. Continuing to appear calm, Victoria swung her arm and swung it round with all the speed of a golfer at the tee, landing the birch swiftly across Wilma's exposed bottom. Her head flung back, Wilma screamed and danced, contorting herself in her bonds and weeping hot tears, either from her anguish or the pain, it didn’t matter, as Victoria didn't really care which. Whilst Wilma struggled astride the horse, her bottom parting widely, Victoria was drawing her arm back for a second stroke, to deliver it just as harshly as the first. Wilma screamed just as loudly, though her struggles were becoming less violent. The third stroke had landed and she was screaming and struggling, her voice sounding raw now while her scream ended in a broken sob that became a scream yet again as the fourth stroke landed. Wilma's bottom was now painted with lovely birch wields. Victoria passed the birch to Mary and the woman grinned as, left-handed, she approached the naked and bound girl from the other side. Younger than Victoria but with less experience, her strokes landed more powerfully, but with less accuracy. However, the result for Wilma was the same; more agonising strokes that had her sobbing uncontrollably, her pride forgotten as she meekly pleaded to be released. Victoria let the distraught little girl weep for a while, and then nodded to Charlie. He knew what was wanted and unwound much of the rope from the now limp girl before turning her around on the horse to face the audience, then quickly tied her again, a length of rope now wrapped around each thigh pulling and holding them wide apart. “Let me go! Let me go!” Wilma screamed, her growing fright giving her the strength to scream and fight her bonds again. “You didn’t think that your appalling behaviour would be so easily dismissed, did you?” Victoria asked while the rest of the children looked on in growing horror. “You've punished me!” Wilma screamed before breaking down and crying all over again. “You think that was a punishment?” she scoffed. “I'll show you what a punishment is, young lady,” she said, taking up a martinet whip from the boy and swinging it through the air. “Now! You are going to feel just what a punishment at the Priory is really like,” she murmured, swinging it backhanded across Wilma's budding breasts. The girl screamed and tried swinging aside as the martinet returned to sweep from the other side, the cords striking her tender breasts again and leaving the angry red lines of their passing. Forehand to backhand, Victoria continued swinging the many strands of martinet across her breasts, listening to her screams and cries and watching with pleasure as Wilma desperately attempted to escape the scorching strokes. When she guessed her ready, her once pale breasts now glowing with multiple whip marks, she lowered her aim, striking the girl's inner thighs. Wilma cried openly as she tried bending her body inwards to escape this painful new torment. “Please Miss. I'm sorry,” Wilma murmured sweepingly. “Yes! I'm sure you are,” Victoria murmured. Putting the martinet down and seeing Wilma relax thinking it was all over, Victoria smiled and picked a wicked looking riding crop from the little arsenal of implements the boy was holding out for her. Flicking it through the air, the tongue of leather at the end flashed back, ready to add a wicked scolding, in addition to all the pain the leather encased rubber crop was going to produce. Victoria caressed Wilma’s smooth little cunt and smiled, staring straight into her pleading eyes. A flick of her wrist, and the crop struck with well-practised accuracy that had Wilma screaming in fresh agony, her pelvis rotating astride the horse as she desperate tried to close her thighs. “Keep your thighs open!” Victoria demanded, with a smile. “Yes, Miss” Wilma replied. Victoria flicked the leather directly onto her cunt sending the girl into frenzy, her body vibrating with the tension sweeping through her. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” she screamed, fighting to escape any further pain. “What, already?” Victoria grinned. The crop landed again, another sharp blow to the young girl’s cunt the tip once again whipping in. The girl's howl and little dance proved she'd struck well. Mary appeared with a second riding crop and Victoria nodded, allowing the woman to strike from Wilma’s other side. She took aim and sent the leather tongue of her crop directly between Wilma’s thighs to land on top of Victoria’s previous strokes. Wilma's screeching grew, as did the little squirming she could do in her ropes as now two crops attacked her, one from the left, the other from the right, on and on unmercifully. Stroke followed stroke, then a pause before they choose some other part of her body to whip. When her thighs and cunt grew numb, they returned to her breasts, slapping the tender flesh with just the tongue of leather, or more artfully skimming it across her nipples until they too grew too numb to bring any shriek of pain from her. In the end, they both brought their crops down in unison across her lovely bottom, raising long and angry welts that left poor Wilma in agony. It was only when she peed herself, her head falling forward as she wept, did the two women relent and step back. Victoria's arm ached, yet only thirty minutes had passed since Wilma had first been bound to the punishment horse. She strode in front of the horrified children and stared each of them down before speaking. “Let this be a lesson to you all! We will not tolerate disobedience,” she told them, her eyes scanning their sorry little faces looking for any sign of revolt. “In a moment, you will be led into the Priory to be washed, examined, photographed and issued with your uniform. Anyone who misbehaves, who refuses to do as we ask, or does anything not asked of them, will be brought out here and, like Wilma, made to sit astride this horse and punished in front of all the others. Do you understand?” she asked. “Yes,” they chorused, their eyes fixed on the half unconscious girl as she was untied and left to fall into the puddle of her own urine. Victoria glanced over her shoulder at the girl and sighed. “Have her taken up to the Grange, Mary,” she said sternly. “I haven’t finished with her yet,” she murmured softly, so that only Mary would hear. ****** Wilma woke with a start, her head rising to look to the left and right of her, only then noticing she was naked and stretched upon a wooden board the size of a door, the surface angled back slightly from vertical. She flinched as her sore bottom came into contact with the wood, yet no amount of squirming eased the steady and irritating soreness that rose into her body. Trying to calm herself she looked about her, noticing she was in a long room with other strange furniture to the right and left of her while a carpeted path ran before her. On the side, facing her, were a series of windows that overlook a pleasant view, had she had the interest? Instead, while she twisted her wrists and ankles in an attempt to free herself, the door opened and Victoria entered accompanied by Simon and Sir Cecil who immediately started to devour the pretty child’s nakedness. “What are you going to do to me?” Wilma asked anxiously. “Just a little test! To see how obedient you are!” Victoria told her, stepping aside and nodding to Simon. “You're mad, all of you!” Wilma cried again. “You can't do this to me. You'll go to prison!” she told them, struggling all over again, frantic to escape. Simon placed what looked like a toy wooden fairground wheel on the board. It was only about a foot in diameter and, instead of little boats to hold the people; it had short lengths of leather hanging at regular intervals around it. Kneeling at her feet, Simon pushed the supports for the wheel into the prepared holes on the board, just below her cunt, and then slid the power transfer belt onto the end of what had recently been the motor from their sewing machine. He grinned up at her and received a spit for his efforts. “So spirited!” Victoria sighed, smiling at the angry girl and placed her foot on the footpad of the motor. The motor hummed, then turned. As it turned, it turned the wheel, and as the speed of the wheel increased, the short leader straps were drawn outwards. In moments they were whipping into Wilma's pubis, slap after slap all closely following each other. Wilma's face showed her initial shock, and then she was squealing in pain as she tried in vain to move out of the way of the unremitting slaps. “No, no!” she wailed, her bottom bucking frantically in an effort to escape the unceasing slapping of the leather. The audience looked on, flushed by watching her bottom bounce up and down, yet never escape the constant slapping on her cunt. When Wilma collapsed in her bonds, too exhausted to try escaping them anymore, Victoria pushed the pedal down so the rotating wheel would gain speed. Once again Wilma cried out and squirmed and contorted, now openly weeping again as the constant slapping tenderised already tender flesh and brought it to a burning red glow. When Victoria gauged the time right, she took her foot of the pedal and removed the toy to stand beside the child and pull tear-stained face back by her hair. “Learning?” she asked. “Please, please let me go,” Wilma begged through her sobbing. “What, so you can disobey me again?” “Oh, I won't, not ever again, never, I promise,” Wilma wept. Victoria pretended to contemplate the option, frowning for a moment while glancing down the pretty child. Her breasts were starting to mature nicely, each proud mound topped by a dark strawberry nipple. While sobbing the girl’s stomach had been sucked in, her labia now appearing to be much prouder with light brown curls half obscuring how sore it had become from the whipping. “I might,” Victoria teased. “Oh please, please!” Wilma gasped, her tears drying in the moment she thought she might escape from any further pain. Victoria ran her fingers through the girl's pubic hairs, smiling, as the girl’s tenseness started to drift away. “Of course, Miss Baker will have to remove these,” she told Wilma. “Right! I think she's ready now,” she nodded. The board was moved and Wilma found it tilting back, dropping into a horizontal position so she now lay on top of it. Then suddenly the bottom fell away from it, swinging down to draw her legs with it. Staring at the ceiling, Wilma felt her cunt exposed over the edge and tears flowed uncontrolled as she heard to men undoing their trousers. Sir Cecil was first between her thighs, forcing her to watch as his fat cock pushed into her painful cunt. Wailing all over again, Wilma had no appreciation at how much her little audience were enjoying her pain and humiliation. Looking directly into her eyes, Cecil enjoyed the tightness of her cunt coming quickly but with full satisfaction. Then Simon grinned as he took the old man's place. Sperm helped oil his cock deep into the young girl and there he fucked her hard and long, gazing adoringly down at her pain racked face until he came too. “Right! Take her to my room,” Victoria said, with a sly smile. “No, no please!” Wilma wailed, finding the strength from somewhere to weakly battle with the two men as she was untied and taken upstairs. Once flung on the rug by the fire in her mistress’s room, she was too weak to do anything but weep, her mind conjuring up all the terrible things they had done to her, and ended up crying herself to sleep. ****** Wilma woke and groaned. Her little body ached from her efforts to escape her bonds and, as she moved, the hundred or so wounds came alive to make her sag and groan. With a little sob she began to cry, remembering what had been done to her. Slowly, because it hurt to move too much, even when slowly, she sat up weeping. “Good! You’re awake,” Victoria murmured. Her voice making the girl jump, then gasp with the pain it gave her. Victoria had decided to give the child some time to recover before going to her. “Would you like me to give you a massage?” Victoria asked. “I’m not sure, Miss,” Wilma, murmured nervously. “I see you’re learning!” Victoria said, with a smile. “Lie down, on your front,” she told her. Slowly Wilma turned onto her front and straightened her thighs, a gasp escaping her before she learnt to keep her bottom raised, at least enough to keep her sore cunt from touching the rough rug beneath her. Victoria admired Wilma’s lovely bottom and thighs for a moment before taking some of the cold salve she had made from her mother's recipe and started to rub it in firmly. Wilma sobbed with the sudden application of the cold salve, groaning as it took away all the aches and pains to leave just a glowing heat invading her skin. Victoria’s long fingers worked the salve into the child’s taut flesh then, once it had numbed the pain, she started to massage the muscles beneath, undoing the knots of tension as the child softly gasped and panted at the fresh invasion of sensations. As Victoria slowly soothed her bottom, Wilma dreading the thought of her mistress pushing her sore cunt into the rough rug, lifted it up and against the caresses. When the real kneading began, it wasn't to push her body down and against the rug, but to pull the her bottom upwards towards her back, and in doing so, to expose her anus and the pink mouth of the child’s cunt directly below. Wilma clutched at the rug and turned her head where it wouldn't be seen, her mind in turmoil as insidious pleasure made her want to spread her thighs and lift her bottom even higher. Moving still hurt – nothing had been done to take away the pain in her pubis or breasts and belly, yet the fingers and thumbs felt so good, sending electrical charges from where they kneaded her flesh directly with her cunt. When after some time, the kneading of her bottom stopped, Wilma almost wept with the loss. “Turn over,” Victoria told her, her voice sounding bored with what she was doing. Wilma blinked away her tears and obeyed, her eyes searching for some warmth in those of her mistress. Victoria kept her eyes dark and fathomless, her face showing none of the excitement she felt earlier. With her fingers covered with cold salve, she slid them over the girl's tender breasts and watched as the child arched her back and gasped. Wilma's breasts were firm little orbs that refused to flatten when she lay down. Once smooth, the flesh was now ridged from the whipping they had taken, a contour that excited Victoria and, by the way her nipples responded, aroused Wilma too as they were being massaged. Wilma started panting when Victoria's hands moved onto her torso to begin gently laying salve along the angry red lines that crossed her belly from both directions. She tried controlling herself, but her thighs tensed with a new rhythm, one that Victoria was well aware of, having seen it before in others. She panted, staring up at her mistress, her mind in turmoil as she willed the woman to show her some love. Cold salve reached her tortured cunt and was gently soothed into the raped flesh. It soothed and heated all at the same time and Wilma panted as she watched the still face of the woman applying it. A new heat raged into her flesh, so similar to the previous, and yet so different. With a long groan of total submission, Wilma parted her thighs, revealing her half wounded cunt, her labia already swollen through more than burning, her little slit shinning with dew filled excitement. Victoria reached for more salve while looking down at the morsel she was being offered; knowing the girl now sought her approval. “Open your thighs wider,” Victoria demanded, and there was almost a gasp of relief from Wilma as she obeyed. Her raw labia peeled away from each other revealing a pink and as yet untouched interior. Victoria anointed it with salve and slowly drew the lotion upward. She rubbed the lotion into her flesh and watched with interest as the girl’s breath quickened and her thighs began to quiver with a new urgency. Satisfied, Victoria stopped and wiped her fingers clean. Wilma lay gazing at her in disbelief, her eyes begging her mistress to continue. Victoria just smiled. “Masturbate!” Victoria ordered Wilma. Wilma swallowed and felt her face start to burn. She'd only recently found how to get pleasure from touching herself. Her mother had long told her not to do it, threatening her with a whipping if she ever caught her masturbating. Now, a woman knelt beside her, older than her mother yet ageless and perfect, waiting for her to do something she'd only dared do in the early morning, while her mother was asleep. “Now! Don't disappoint me,” Victoria murmured, her voice warning the girl of what would happen if she did. Gulping, Wilma let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling as she moved her fingers down to her sore cunt and started to pleasure herself. “Good girl! That’s it! Don't stop,” Victoria told her. Wilma whimpered, building a steady rhythm, arching and shuddering in delight, then burning hotly as she came to a glorious orgasm. “You can stay here with me tonight,” Victoria told her. “Thank you, Miss,” Wilma replied. It was her first day at Birchwood Grange, and Wilma had certainly made an impression, but would she be able to keep it up, Victoria wondered? |