A PASSION FOR CRUELTY
A dark and sadistic tale set in England during the 1970’s

BY DICKINS
dickins22@hotmail.com

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 real events, locals or any persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

[ part 1 ]

Cruel Desires

Elizabeth Martin parked her Golf GTI in the space reserved for the Senior Social Worker. She had spent four years gaining a psychology degree, and then a further four years working as a social worker in Liverpool before being promoted to this position.

The post had been created to tackle the alarming rise in child abuse cases and she had only been in the job for a short while, but whenever she thought about the opportunities there were going to be to satisfy her passion for cruelty, a real sense of euphoria overwhelmed her.

“Daydreaming again?” came a demanding voice from the rear of the sports car.

Elizabeth lost her smile, as she looked into the rear view mirror and saw the ghost of her mother standing there, her cold dark eyes looking sternly at the brightly coloured dress she was wearing.

“Just what sort of rag do you call that? It's disgusting. We'll talk about that when you get home young lady!” the voice said.

“Mother! It's perfectly alright,” Elizabeth, murmured, as she lowered her eyes to consider the floral pattern that she thought was both professional, and yet feminine. It showed off her figure without being revealing and, with the long high heels, she was as tall as most men and taller than a few.

“Are you answering me back? How dare you! Just you wait till I get you home!” the voice told her.

“I’m Sorry!” Elizabeth murmured.

Her mother still had that affect; making her feel like a child, her strict and demanding nature always ready to inflict the cruellest of punishments.

As she stepped from the sports car her mother’s apparition faded, and once more she was the professional, but deep inside her inherited cruelty would soon be affecting the lives of the very families that she was there to help.

******

Her office was in a partitioned-off part of the building giving her a view of the car park and, beyond it, the railway sidings. Shortly after arriving that morning, Janet her personal assistant brought in a bundle of files.

“Richard Cross brought these over. Your predecessor left them unfinished and Richard had forgotten all about them,” she explained, her expression telling Elizabeth just what she thought of the man.

“Ok, Leave them! I'll do a quick assessment and then distribute them to the rest of the team,” Elizabeth said hopeful that one of the files might lead her to the perfect family.

The team comprised of four graduates like her, but with less experience. They all lived outside the city, commuting in early to avoid the crowds and to give them time to read the background material Miss Martin had sifted out for their attention.

John and Alec seldom saw eye to eye with each other, but they both got on well with Alison and Wendy, the two women on the team. They would work at their desks until Elizabeth handed them case files to follow up, then would go out on their visits to assess and record any evidence of child abuse.

Jan nodded and skipped to her notes to tell Elizabeth about a meeting scheduled for that afternoon and the two calls which she'd passed on to others. Elizabeth thanked her and pulled the first file off the top of the bundle to review it.

She scrawled the name of one of her team on the front cover and scribbled her observations on a note before stapling a coloured sticker to the cover so they could prioritise their caseload. When Janet took away the files to distribute them, only one remained and Elizabeth had selected this case for her own cruel purposes.

******

The trip to the Estate didn't take long. A model estate of the late sixties, it was far from being a model now. Kids played on a burnt out car and watched her drive slowly past, their eyes unfathomable.

Elizabeth parked her car and headed up the path towards the flats. The remains of a dozen toys lay scattered over the grass and the flower bed had long since gone leaving the hard paths of stamping kids. Colourful and elaborate graffiti on the outside of the building gave way to marker pen on the inside and the lift refused to work.

Walking carefully past the crumpled silver paper and matchstick tips, Elizabeth climbed the five storeys to the floor she wanted and knocked on the door marked 65, her nose wrinkling in distaste at the smell.

“Mrs Brenda Thornton?” Elizabeth asked as the door opened slightly.

“Yes!” the woman replied.

“May I come in?” She said, showing the woman her ID card.

The woman let her in, her dark eyes haunted within her pale face. Blond hair fell lax and unwashed to her shoulders while a housecoat hung loosely from her narrow shoulders.

“Has she been in trouble again?” Brenda asked, lifting a cigarette from a pack and lighting it with a shaking hand.

Elizabeth shook her head. “Not that I know of,” she admitted, her eyes taking in the worn carpet and the old and dirty settee. The ashtray was overflowing across a coffee table already littered with the remains of a takeaway meal, two crushed beer cans and the congealed remains of a coffee in an old mug. On the wall hung a velvet picture and a team picture of Liverpool FC two seasons previous.

“Is she here?” Elizabeth asked.

“Rachel!” Brenda called. Elizabeth looked at the new TV in the corner of the room turning towards the girl when she appeared.

“What?” the child asked sullenly.

Elizabeth could see the resemblance between mother and daughter. Perhaps the mother had been as lovely when she was younger. In her late twenties, Brenda looked tired and drawn, perhaps as a result of all the abusive clients she had entertained in order to feed her family.

In contrast, at eleven Rachel looked fresh and pink, her hair darker than her mother's with a fringe that half crossed one of her large brown eyes. With her large eyes, oval face and full lips, the child would be a real beauty one day she thought.

“We've had reports of child abuse,” Elizabeth said, watching their expressions.

The girl closed in on herself darting a glance to her mother who, more nervous than ever, gave an attempt at a laugh before licking her lips and shaking her head.

“You must be mistaken! I love my little girl,” she told Elizabeth, going to the child to put her arms around her.

“None the less, I need to be certain,” Elizabeth, told her.

“Well! I’m telling you I haven’t,” Brenda said, a little more firmly.

Elizabeth smiled. “I shall need to examine her,” she said. “If you try to stop me I will call the police and Rachel will be taken away while you are held in custody. Do you understand?” she asked firmly.

It was clear that Brenda did. The woman swallowed and clung more tightly to her daughter. “I love my little girl. You can't take her," she whimpered, her eyes begging Elizabeth to let them be.

“Right! Into the bedroom, both of you,” Elizabeth ordered. “You can watch,” she told the mother with some satisfaction as they both obeyed.

“Undress!” Elizabeth ordered the girl while her mother chewed her lip and took deep drags of her rapidly dwindling cigarette. She put down her bag on the small dresser and took out of pair of latex gloves, pulling them on as she watched the pretty child start to undress.

There was little point in waiting for her to undress fully. Rachel's body was covered with bruises, some quite old by their livid colour; others still quite pink and fresh. Pulling her arms back, Elizabeth admired the cigarette burns around her nipples, and the many welts that criss-crossed the child’s lovely little bottom.

“What caused these?” she asked out of interest, her fingers tracing the lines, stopping to stare at the girl as she jerked away.

“Don't know. Rachel's always falling over,” the mother told her, attempting to laugh it off through her nervousness. The laugh stopped when Elizabeth looked her way, her dark eyes warning the woman to be silent.

“Those burns weren't caused by falling over,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“Well, how am I meant to know? I'm not her bloody keeper am I?” Brenda retorted.

“Ah, but you are!” Elizabeth reminded her in a sweet voice.

Brenda burnt the cigarette down to her stained fingers, her eyes darting here and there as she tried to worm herself out of the problem.

“She’d done it cooking supper the other day,” she said.

Elizabeth hadn't waited for a reply. She had pushed the timid girl back onto the bed and, lifting one leg, had pulled her smooth lipped labia apart to look into the tender and sore interior where her vaginal opening was vividly sore and her hymen completely gone. Using her fingers she clawed Rachel's bottom cheeks apart and saw to her delight that the girl’s anus was just as inflamed.

“It's not my fault! I told him he shouldn't, but he would have left me if I hadn't let him,” the woman wept.

Rachel stared up, a vulnerable little doll with whom she could position in any way she liked, however revealing. The burn marks caught her attention again and she dropped the child’s leg in order to trace the little round marks around her tender nipples. Rachel watched nervously, blushing and licking her lips as her nipples started to harden painfully under the woman’s cruel caresses.

“Go to your room and wait there,” she told the girl. While the child gathered her discarded clothes, Elizabeth gazed at the mother, watching her grow more nervous with each passing moment.

“It wasn't my fault!” Brenda cried as soon as the door had closed.

Elizabeth leant against the door and stared at her, her arms folded and her face bleached of expression. She thought of her career and all the risks that she was taking, and weighed up what she knew about the family before doing anything that couldn’t be undone later. Whilst she thought and considered her position, Brenda was growing even more nervous and restless.

“Please! I promise it won't happen again,” Brenda pleaded.

“But it will, won't it?” Miss Martin replied. Brenda was brought up short, her eyes widening as she realised that Elizabeth was much better informed than the others had been.

“What's your other daughter's name? Karen isn't it?” Elizabeth probed.

The girl had been taken into care when she was seven, and is still receiving counselling for the physical and sexual abuse she had suffered.

“That was Bradley's doing. I'm not with Bradley anymore,” Brenda said sullenly.

“That's because Bradley is in prison,” Elizabeth argued. “Who is it now?” she asked idly.

Unfolding her arms, she crossed to the bedside table and opening the drawer smiled as it revealed amongst other things a small pair of pincers, leather bracelets, ball gags and beads. Brenda quivered and hugged herself, her eyes heavy and leaking tears as she slowly forced herself to look at Miss Martin.

“Please don't take Rachel away!” Brenda pleaded.

Elizabeth felt a glow of pleasure trickle through her as she emptied all the contents of the drawer onto the bed and looked at them, wanting to remove her latex gloves to fondle the thick anal beads, the oversized dildo and the anal vibrator, but resisting just in case they hadn’t been cleaned properly.

“Where’s the rest?” Elizabeth asked, knowing there would be more, somewhere.

Still weeping, Brenda pointed under the bed and then wept all the harder as she watched Elizabeth retrieve an old case from underneath. Inside were the larger items, the ropes and masks, the flogger, the tawse, the crop, ruler and cane, all of which had been well used.

“Quite a selection,” Elizabeth said, as she rummaged through the old case.

“What are you going to do?” Brenda asked nervously, suddenly starting to realise that Miss Martin’s visit, was turning out to be anything but a normal visit from Social Services.

Elizabeth felt the warm trickle become a rush as she caressed the short leather tawse. Her mother had loved the twin bladed leather instrument and would often use it for up to half an hour at a time, to tenderise her bottom before moving on to the cane or the lash. Brenda stared at it, her eyes large and round, her mouth falling open, as she remembered the last time she had used it on Rachel.

“Undress!” Elizabeth ordered.

“What?” she replied, half stammering as her nervousness for her daughter turned to terror for herself, the same terrible feeling she got when client’s grinned evilly as they told her just what they were going to do to her. Elizabeth stood and grinned down at the fickle woman, no humour in her eyes as she repeated her command.

“Undress! It's about time you paid for being such a lousy mother,” Elizabeth explained, her smile growing.

“But!” Brenda said, hesitantly.

“Do it now! Or I will leave, taking Rachel with me!” Elizabeth told her sharply, her eyes hardening and her smile melting away.

Still confused, Brenda rushed to obey the woman, her eyes often returning to her in an effort to understand what she was about. Blushing, she exposed her shaven sex, a dark patch of bristles loudly proclaiming her need to use the razor on her prominent vulva once again. Sagging breasts showed Elizabeth their bruises, large brown nipples growing in the cold of the room.

“Kneel! Your arms pulled behind you,” Elizabeth told her. “I'm sure you know the position,” she chuckled.

“I, I, don't understand,” Brenda muttered, dutifully getting down onto her knees and drawing her shoulders back, presenting the standing woman with her breasts.

Elizabeth grinned. This was the bit she loved. Power swept through her arms and swelled her breasts. There was now a furnace between her thighs, trickling into her panties to soak them with her excitement. Not answering her, she reached out with the tawse flicking the woman's nipple, watching as she began to comprehend and came over with a rush of colour.

“Be still!” Elizabeth demanded as Brenda began to shake.

A whimper broke her lips as she started to understanding, then without any hesitation Elizabeth drew her arm back and swept the end of the tawse down across Brenda's left breast.

Brenda gasped and closed her eyes, shaking as the lighting shock sped like a knife through her breast, sending tendrils of incredible excitement down into her cunt. Elizabeth watched Brenda sway, knowing the thrill she had received, and swung the tawse with a backhanded sweep to catch the same breast but from the other side.

Brenda gasped again, her belly sucked in as the lancing pain shot into her.

Elizabeth laughed. “Such a pain-slut, aren't you?” she teased, already knowing the answer.

The woman opened her eyes to look at her tormentor, the beginnings of devotion mirrored in her eyes as, shaking, she held her position, offering her breasts, one burning, the other not.

“Does he abuse her while you're there, or is he alone with her?” Elizabeth asked as she swung the tawse down again towards Brenda's other breast. The tip of the leather stung the peak, flicking it outward, the nipple suddenly engorged, flesh burning while she whimpered with the intensity of feeling sweeping into her.

“Well?” Elizabeth asked, caressing the tawse for a moment.

“He begins while I'm there, then takes her to her room,” Brenda answered.

The tawse landed more fully across on her right breast and the woman cried out and shook. The breast bloomed with the mark of the tawse, a flaming imprint. The nipple swelled and the woman sobbed, her trembling making her breasts start to wobble uncontrollably.

“What does he do while you're there?” Elizabeth asked, her breath starting to shorten with the excitement of using the tawse on her breasts, her meekness and her willingness, inflaming her pleasure.

“He likes to punish her in front of me,” Brenda explained.

“How?” Elizabeth probed.

“By pinching her nipples, smacking her thighs and then spanking her bottom hard until she screams,” Brenda admitted.

“I bet you get off on that!” Elizabeth spat, swinging the tawse in along arc that connected with her left breast, a full arc that impacted harshly into the heavy gourd, pushing it aside as it swung onwards. Brenda cried out, erupting into tears as the vivid mark of is landing swiftly lifted and brightened the soft flesh.

“Don't you?” Elizabeth snapped.

“Yes, yes!” Brenda screamed, her hands rising to grip her breasts, pinching the nipples in an effort to bring her more pleasure.

“Shall we bring her in then? Shall we let her watch her mother being punished?” Elizabeth asked. The woman wept and shook her head. “I bet that would make you even wetter still,” she laughed. She lifted a foot onto the bed just in front of where Brenda knelt, weeping on the floor. “Kiss my shoe,” she ordered. “Come on, let me hear you beg me not to let Rachel see you like this,” she grinned.

Elizabeth's lust grew as the weeping mother lovingly brought her lips down to the polished leather and kissed it, her eyes turned up, looking beseechingly up at her, her eyes just momentarily slipping under Elizabeth's skirt. Elizabeth laughed and pushed the toe of her shoe fully into the woman's mouth, relishing her submissiveness while looking forward to her total cowering.

“Ever been with another woman?” she asked. Brenda shook her head, her eyes even more fearful and Elizabeth grinned into the dark coals.

“Lay yourself over the end of the bed,” Elizabeth told her. She moved her grip towards the end of the tawse, so more of it could bend as it struck. She ignored the woman as she got hastily in position, probably well versed in bending over items of furniture to have her bottom punished, then fucked. “This first, then we'll see how good the crop is,” she murmured.

Brenda clawed at the rumpled sheets, looking back fearfully over her shoulder as Elizabeth took up a suitable position and raised the tawse. Her back arched as the thick leather blades impacted heavily on her bottom, sweeping across both cheeks to bring a wail of agony from her lips and a drumming of her feet on the carpet.

“Please! Derek will see the marks!” Brenda cried.

“And what will he do?” Elizabeth asked, laying on a second hard stroke.

Brenda squirmed without control, screaming onto the soiled sheets as the pain swept over her.

“Please!” Brenda wept. “He'll kill us!” she cried.

“Who's Derek?” Elizabeth asked while she leant forward to pull the woman's firm bottom open, pulling flesh from flesh to spy the thick wetness coating her upper thighs.

“He's my latest. He's the one who punishes and then abuses Rachel. I told him he shouldn't. I mean, she's only eleven, but that seems to make him want her even more. Please, he'll murder me when he sees someone else has marked me,” Brenda explained.

“Stay here and don't move!” Elizabeth ordered. Elizabeth marched out of the room and across the passage to the one other room, a small room with an old bunk bed, a small wardrobe and a desk up against the wall. Rachel stopped her colouring and looked up at Miss Martin, her young eyes full of misery.

Elizabeth looked about her and felt drawn to the squalor around her. The room needed painting, the carpet was threadbare, the sheets needed changing, and many of the clothes strewn around the room needed washing. The window was grimy and the netting that hung limply in front of it was grey. Mould was starting to run up the wall beside the window and the ceiling was stained from an old leak.

Elizabeth knelt down beside Rachel and smiled. “I bet you have lovely hair when it's washed,” she remarked, stroking her hair.

“Mummy doesn't like me using the hot water, because it costs too much,” Rachel explained.

“But you would look much prettier if you washed it more often,” she explained, pulling Rachel to her as she began to cry, and rocked her gently while looking about her, murmuring softly until the tears eased.

“Will you be a good little girl for me Rachel?” Elizabeth asked. Rachel nodded and wiped at her tear-stained cheeks.

“I will need to tie you up. Will you let me?” Elizabeth asked.

“Are you going to hurt me, like Derek?” Rachel asked.

“No! Not like Derek. Differently,” Elizabeth told her.

Rachel showed her the thin cord that Derek used. “Sometimes he uses it to tie me up, and other times he whips me with it,” she explained, handing it to the older woman.

Elizabeth tied the child’s wrists together, then pushed her onto the lower bunk before pulling her knickers off and tying her knees to the wooden sides of the bed, forcing her thighs wide apart.

Rachel wept as the woman roughly pulled her top up catching her nipples still sore from the burn marks, then flicked her skirt up to bare her puffy young cunt, the labia made bright by their soreness. Elizabeth looked about her for objects she could use and selected the cheap biro from the desk along with a pencil and a torn piece of paper.

Sitting between the child’s parted thighs Elizabeth began to tickle her with the paper. She stroked the child's inner thighs with it and smiled as Rachel began to squirm in an effort to evade the sensations sweeping into her. She began to laugh and giggle, her squirming growing even more intense as she tried begging the woman to stop.

Elizabeth smiled and continued to torment the girl, the paper fluttering close to her lovely little cunt, yet never close enough to excite, only close enough to maddeningly tickle it.

“No, no, please!” Rachel yelled as uncontrolled laughter took her breath away and her body gyrated madly.

“Please Miss!” she yelled.

Elizabeth stopped for a moment then, taking the blunt rubber end of the pencil and inserting it into Rachel's anus, slid it in a couple of inches to leave just enough against the sheets so that, as she squirmed, the pencil would act like a lever and move back and forwards in her tight little anus.

Then, once again, she began to stroke Rachel's inner thighs with the torn paper, her smile cold and sadistic as the girl quickly lost her breath, squirming and panting as now two very different sensations shot, swarmed and spiralled up her young body.

“Please Miss!” Rachel screamed, using the last of her breath as she tossed and turned, the sensations so intense that she was forced to gyrate uncontrollably within her bonds. Elizabeth judged the moment ripe and discarded the paper to pick up the pen. As Rachel slumped exhausted on the bed, Elizabeth leant over the child’s pelvis and wrote on her smooth pubis with the biro.

“Little Tart,” is what she wrote, crossing the smooth bulb from the top left, then across the fleshy mound and down towards her labia where the skin yielded to the nib more easily and it was harder to write. “Ripe and Ready,” she added, crossing Rachel's pubis directly above the smooth turn of her cleft.

Rachel sobbed and jerked, her breath now quickening as the sensation of having the pen tip moving in script-like circles invaded her cunt. Her struggling now caused the pencil to move deep inside her anus, the rubber tip pressing on the front wall of her rectum sending even more strange sensations storming through the child.

“Miss!” she panted, not knowing what else to call the woman.

Elizabeth chuckled and pulled on the outer labia to create a better writing surface, but the warm wetness flowing from the child was making the writing difficult.

“Please Miss!” Rachel gasped, her eyes widening now as the fierce sensations threatened to engulf her.

Elizabeth drew Rachel’s labia apart, exposing the child’s prepuce to her eyes and pen. “Little Slave!” she wrote, her fingers having to hold the flesh still for the pen. The exclamation mark she used to push the tip of the biro into the gaping hole at the tip of the shroud of thick flesh, to ferret for the child's clitoris and smiled as Rachel’s pelvis sudden exploded.

Rachel’s high-pitched squeal confirmed that she had found the girl’s clitoris, and that as a result she had caused her to orgasm. Idly, Elizabeth wondered if it was her first orgasm as her young body went taut as a board, with her head thrown back in wild exaltation.

Rachel seemed held there forever, her muscles sculptured beneath bruised flesh, then she collapsed and sucked in a much needed breath, her eyes wildly staring at the ceiling as she came to terms with what had just happened. Elizabeth drew her into her arms and Rachel encircled her arms around her mistress’s neck and pressed her flushed face into her bosom.

“Get dressed,” Elizabeth, told her after a few moments, patting her back and drawing the child away with a smile. She returned to the mother who was where she had left her, her eyes mad with worry.

“What did you do to her?” Brenda demanded.

“Well! I showed her that there are many more ways to inflict pain than Derek uses,” Elizabeth replied. She doubted that Brenda would understand, but then, women like her just needed to be badly treated to feel comfortable.

“Derek would that be Derek Cooper?” she asked the distraught woman.

Brenda nodded, her eyes haunted by the man's sadistic nature. “He'll kill me when he finds out,” she whimpered.

“What's Derek up to?" Elizabeth asked.

She'd heard his name before. It was hard to work in local government and not know of the hardened crooks. Derek was certainly one, a weasel of a man who thought nothing of scaring those who got in his way.

“I don't know. He doesn't say,” Brenda panted, her nervousness doubled with the very thought of what Derek would do to her if he ever found out she had grassed on him. Elizabeth smiled and picked up one of the nipple clips that lay on the bed and sat down beside the shaking woman. She caressed her shallow cheek with the cold metal, smiling coldly into her mouse-like eyes as she whimpered.

“I can be just as mean,” she murmured. “You see I know just how a woman's body works, and I know how much you can take, and where,” she whispered teasingly.

Brenda whimpered still louder, shaking violently as Elizabeth drew the clip down her neck towards her breasts. Circling each breast in turn she smiled knowingly as the engorged nipples stood stiffly from their broad areoles as she slowly ran the cold metal along the broad tender lines the tawse had left, roughly flicking the nipples, teasing her and making her shake.

“I can hurt you so sweetly,” Elizabeth whispered, her hand slowly guiding the metal clip downwards, over the curve of the woman’s shaking belly towards her crotch. “Are you wet?” she asked casually. “I bet you're soaking,” she giggled, the sound holding no mirth.

Her hand pushed the metal clip between Brenda's thighs and found the woman soaking in her hot juices, the sheet she sat on wet with the overflow. She pressed the clip between Brenda's forgiving labia and opened it against the little mouth to her urethra.

“Tell me about Derek! Something that I can give the police, and you and Rachel will be out of here, off to another part of the city, to where only I'll know. And I'll come visiting, and I'll bring my own toys,” Elizabeth told her, her grin promising her long periods of agonising pain and ridicule while the metal clip slowly and agonisingly closed over her urethra.

Brenda clutched at the hand at her crotch, holding it against her with feverish passion as she came, the exquisite pain, together with Elizabeth's words having stimulated her beyond her control.

“The Wallace Street post office, tomorrow at three,” she gasped, the excitement receding leaving a glow within her, and a tingle that remained with the thought of what was to come.

******

The property they had been relocated too was an old bungalow on the outskirts of city. The hedge was over-grown with neglect, the grass needed cutting and the flowerbeds were overrun with weeds. The walls were weathered and stained, but the inside was warm and dry. The furniture was basic and old, but all of it well made if not matching and it was clean, which was more than could have been said for their previous property.

Brenda walked around in a daze while Rachel took a quick look around, then came hurrying back to take Elizabeth's hand, holding it impulsively while the woman finished making arrangements on the phone.

“The utilities have been paid for, so don't worry about using the electricity or hot water,” she explained. “A lady will arrive shortly with a couple of sacks of used clothes. They'll all be clean, so just help yourself,” Elizabeth explained.

“Derek doesn't know, does he? I mean, he won't find out, will he?” Brenda asked urgently.

“No! He'll not find out, just as long as you continue to please me,” Elizabeth told her.

“Where’s the television?” Rachel asked.

“There isn’t one! You won’t have time to watch television,” Elizabeth promised, her cold smile emphasising her words and making both mother and daughter lick their lips and glance nervously at each other. Now they had a new master, and it was a woman, not a man, the change adding to their fearfulness and submissive excitement.

******

Elizabeth left them browsing through the clothes and returned to work where she attended meetings and ran her department while the memories of Brenda and Rachel constantly intruded with images of what she'd already done and what she planned to do to them. She made plans to take the next day off, warning everyone of her pending absence and passing work to others in the team while dreaming of the things she could do to the mother and daughter.

After work, she returned home, a list of items she'd need, growing in her head as she drove. Brenda, she had decided, would be marked, a reminded of her new mistress. The thought of doing the same to the daughter, ignoring the risk that someone at school might see, shortened her breath and quickened her pulse.

Home was a townhouse overlooking the old canal. It was modern and bright with a large lounge and a similarly large bedroom. As Elizabeth took off her coat she wondered what to use to carry all the equipment she would need.

Preoccupied, she wondered into the lounge, stopping suddenly as she saw the ghost of her mother sitting on the settee, a cold smile on her lips, one that Elizabeth had seen many times before.

“Mother,” she nodded and swallowed.

“I see that you have finally come home,” the apparition murmured, glancing at her little gold watch on her liver spotted wrist.

“I've been at work. I always get home about this time,” she explained. She went across to the curtains and closed them, trying to break the spell that was now on her and dispel the ghost of her mother. When she turned, it was still there, the eyes fastening on her own.

“Answering back again darling? I shall have to rid you of that bad habit,” she murmured with a low and threatening voice.

Elizabeth knew it was a ghost. She knew that her mother had died ten years ago, and yet the apparition seemed to hold all the power it had once held when she'd been alive. So, when it pointed at the carpet in front of her, Elizabeth found herself moving towards it, stopping to stand nervously in front of her mother, hands meekly clasped before her, her head bowed.

“I'm sorry Mother,” Elizabeth murmured, her body beginning to tremble.

“Are you? Show me how sorry you are,” her mother demanded.

Elizabeth took off her jacket and got down onto her knees, her eyes never leaving the ghosts polished shoes, as she got right down onto her arms and pressed her lips to the cold leather.

“I'm sorry Mother,” she murmured again.

Cold hands swept down the back of her skirt, tracing her bottom before lifting the hem to draw it onto her back, baring her bottom and the thong she'd chosen to wear. Her ears burning she heard her mother's tut of dislike and knew she had earned herself an extra harsh punishment this time.

There was a long moment of silence, each additional second marking the harsher punishment that was to be bestowed upon her. Elizabeth could feel it with each beat of her heart and sobbed, just as she had as a little girl, her bottom now presented to her mother in the same way, her thoughts agonising over what cruel punishment that she would have to endure.

“Fetch the stool!” she was told.

Elizabeth scampered to obey, her mind full of shock as she retrieved the seldom-used stool. The ghost of her mother was still there when she returned, her face hard and cold as she tapped the crop she held up against her leg. It wasn't one of hers, therefore it was as ghostly as her mother, and despite looking real and hard, the patch of leather at its tip added a painful slap wherever it landed.

“All the way child,” her mother told her.

Feeling breathless, Elizabeth knelt beside the stool and reached under the seat, pushing the dildo all the way up through the hole in the base. Eight inches of hard coated rubber now protruded, the apex fashioned to stretch both anus and vagina alike.

Along its length lay a series of small nylon hairs, each designed to lay flat when stroked downwards, only standing when the reverse was applied. The small nylon hairs didn't feel any more than slightly ticklish to her fingers as she stroked it, but to the tender walls of her anus or vagina, the soft hairs felt like barbs, tearing and ripping, cutting her to pieces.

“Mother, please,” she begged, breathless with nervousness.

“Get those stupid clothes off!” her mother spat, her eyes ablaze.

Elizabeth blindly fought to get her clothes off, her eyes smarting from her hot tears as, once again a child; she knelt in front of her mother and succumbed to her harsh punishments.

Her mother stared and Elizabeth whimpered.

The crop tapped her knees and she coyly parted them, struggling to remain still as the leather fold at the crop's tip unfolded her labia and tapped her swollen and extended prepuce.

“Mount!” her mother snapped, her thin lips telling Elizabeth that she had seen the gleaming mouth to her cunt and seen the excitement gathering there, beyond control and beyond reason.

Naked, cold outside and burning inside, Elizabeth scrambled onto the stool to then grip the dildo and hold it still as she rose to hover above it, panting as she prepared herself for its entry. She stared up at her mother's cold and impassive face, hoping for some sign of acceptance or pride as she began the slowly slide downward onto this special punishment stool.

Half way down, she sobbed with the feeling of stretching that it caused within her. Three quarters of the way down she panted as she felt it push against her cervix, threatening to broach it as her thighs quivered in their efforts to settle her slowly upon the stool.

“Thighs apart!” her mother spat, each word punctuated by a sharp slap of the crop on each thigh. Elizabeth cried out and did as she was told, spreading her thighs and whimpering up at her imperious mother as the ghostly figure smiled cruelly at her exposed cunt and its gleaming wet coating.

“Now ride!” the apparition ordered.

Elizabeth tensed her thighs in readiness. Her memory helped prepare her, but never enough to stop a cry of pain as the little hairs bit into her flesh and tears came to her eyes and overflowed down her cheeks as she rose up, pulling herself screaming from the dildo.

“Again!” he mother spat.

Catching her breath, Elizabeth sank once more upon the dildo, her imagination converting the wetness of her cunt to blood from her torn vagina. She gripped her breasts and pinched her nipples, offering them up to her mother, welcoming the sharp slap of the crop upon them as a counterpoint to the sharp lancing pain of the slight hairs on the dildo as she rose again. She screamed afresh, begging for her mother's love as she tried to prove her obedience.

“Again!” her mother ordered harshly.

Sobbing, Elizabeth found herself sliding smoothly down onto the long dildo, her cunt clenching the hard rubber, while anticipation of the pain to come made her jerk and shake. The strike of the crop made her flinch, the sharp sensations invading her breasts and adding to the heat that now enveloped them from her mother's pervious strikes. Amid all this, her thighs tensed and lifted her again, the sharp and all-engulfing pain in her vagina forcing another long agonising wail from her. Then at last, her mother grinned.

“Good girl. Let me see,” she offered tenderly.

Weeping with relief, Elizabeth slid off the stool and lay back on the carpet, her thighs widely spread. With her knees bent outward and her vulva left gaping, her cunt was open to her mother's detailed inspection. Only she was no longer there.

“Mother,” Elizabeth wailed, her own fingers going to her cunt, pinching and pulling, and lifting her pelvis high in a plaintive offering for the ghost to return.

“See?” Elizabeth said as she kneaded her pudendum well after her first, second and even her third orgasm, forcing herself to continuously rub until numbness overcame her tenderness and there was no feeling left. Exhausted, she crawled into bed and dreamt about Rachel.

******

The next morning Elizabeth remained in her flat long enough to put the things she wanted into a suitcase, then headed to the supermarket to stock up on food for her two captives.

The sky was grey and threatening when she arrived, the curtains had been drawn and it was silent. Elizabeth let herself in and smiled at the relief that showed on Brenda's face as she came hurrying out of the lounge.

“You gave me a real fright!” Brenda complained, her face still pale from worry.

Elizabeth smiled and herded her back into the lounge, closing the door behind her while smiling at Rachel, curled up on the settee and still dressed in her nightclothes; a loose shift thin enough to let her white panties show through the material. She didn't have to ask if they had both bathed, it was apparent from their hair and faces that both had done so.

Pleased, she smiled and placed her suitcase on the spare armchair, opening it so both could see the various restraints lying beside the coils of fine rope. Under the ropes lay crops, paddles, floggers and other smaller items, like pincers, larger clamps, needles and finger-gloves. Elizabeth grinned as Brenda and Rachel stared at the items, licking their lips and looking increasingly nervous as they slowly unravelled the purpose of each one.

“You owe me,” Elizabeth told Brenda, leaning into her to stroke her hair and inhale her soap scented body. “And what better way to educate Rachel, than to let her watch her mother being tormented!” she purred. “Please don't hurt me too much,” Brenda whimpered, her mind pulled and pushed by all the horrifying tools. The rough cruelty of Derek and her previous lovers was now going to be replaced by a woman, something she had never experienced before, and yet could still grow excited by.

“Oh, you can't begin to imagine,” Elizabeth told her.

“Undress!” she ordered.

Rachel remained seated, the careless way she sat exposing her panties crushed between her thighs. Elizabeth reached into the case and brought out a brightly coloured ball to which a broad piece of elastic had been attached, and a soft leather strap through which soft rope had been threaded.

Sitting beside Rachel, she kissed her brow, then dropped her mouth to tenderly kiss her lips, savouring their nervous flutter before she drew her head back to smile into her expressive eyes.

“This is to make sure you don't touch yourself,” she explained to the fretful young girl, taking her slender wrists and drawing them together behind her, fastening them together with the leather band and cord. She then captured her young face and kissed her again, enjoying the added excitement of knowing the girl couldn't defend herself, even if she had wanted to.

“Do you love me?” Miss Martin asked.

Rachel licked her lips, and then nodded. Elizabeth grinned and pushed the ball into her mouth and fastened the elastic behind her head.

“That's to make sure you don't interrupt,” she explained. “You see! I'm going to hurt your mother very much, but she's going to love it. Do you understand?” she asked.

Rachel shook her head. “You will,” Elizabeth assured her, stroking her hair and gazing lovingly into her dark eyes. “Because, after I've hurt her, I'm going to do the same to you,” she explained, running her fingers through the child’s fine hair, savouring the nervous look on the girl’s face.

“You see! I won't be using the same things,” she explained, as she imagined the smaller dildos she would be using on Rachel, in contrast to the larger dildos she would be using on her mother who waited to one side, quivering and panting.

Rachel wasn’t able to reply, but her eyes spoke volumes of how she felt, and Elizabeth inhaled the scent of fear that emanated from the child, her hands stroking the soft cotton shift and feeling the firm young flesh beneath quiver in fright.

“Trust me! I'll make you love it!” she whispered, then stood up and turned her attention on the now naked, shaking, and whimpering mother.

Elizabeth looked at her with the same cold and unloving look her mother had often reserved for such moments. She knew the cold look would drive into the woman, making her shake and worry all the more.

Calmly, hiding the excitement that threatened to engulf her, Elizabeth walked around the woman. Then as if checking a horse, she pulled the woman back and forth, turned her head to and fro, squeezed her breasts in turn and thrust two fingers sharply into her cunt, scowling when she found her already hot and wet.

“What a slut you are!” she said, shoving her fingers deeper in order to hear her gasp before she slipped her fingers out again and then wiped them on her flesh.

“Hands on your head!” Elizabeth ordered. Brenda did so, steadfastly ignoring her daughter as her position now raised her breasts and offered her engorged nipples to her new mistress.

Elizabeth returned with pieces from her case. First there was a leather wrist restraint to fasten Brenda's wrists together on her hair. Elizabeth smiled past the gasping mother as Rachel stared in wonder at her mother. Then there was the thigh-spreader; two leather bands to fit on each of her thighs just above her knees, and a two foot long wooden bar to hold them apart.

Brenda shook and panted and would have spoken, begging for leniency, but for the ball gag that Elizabeth now inserted into her mouth, held by elastic tape that kept it firmly in place.

“There we are, all prepared!” Elizabeth smiled. Her hands ran over the woman's skin, delighting in its texture and often rising to squeeze Brenda's breasts, or squeeze her vulva together.

Stopping over bruises, she would press her thumb inward over the tender flesh grinning as Brenda cried out through the gag her body contorting as Elizabeth casually caused fresh pain within her. Despite her pain and nervousness, her nipples swelled and her skin grew flushed. She panted and quivered for various reasons, yet it was excitement that held her cunt open, gleaming wetly within.

“So eager to be hurt!” Elizabeth marvelled aloud as she slipped her fingers between Brenda's thighs and marinated them in the hot wetness that seeped so liberally from her cunt.

Brenda begged with her eyes for it to be mild, yet Elizabeth's smile promised otherwise. Her wet fingers travelled deeper, slipping past the mouth of her now open cunt to anoint her dry and tightly clenched anus with her slippery juice.

“I'm sure I won't be the first in here, will I?” Elizabeth chuckled, the anal ring feeling tight and unforgiving as she thrust a finger past the tight ring and felt the heat surround her fingertip. “Yes! I'm going to love taking you back there,” she promised with a smile.

Brenda whimpered into her ball gag, her body shaking and weaving, balanced on her far-flung legs. Elizabeth pulled at one of her breasts and showed her the little nipple clamp, the serrated pads open, ready to close over her offered nipple.

Brenda cried through her gag, shaking all the more as she looked in horror at the dreadful clamp.

“Come now!” Elizabeth teased, her fingers like claws as she pulled the woman’s left breast still further from her body. Brenda's eyes rose from the clamp to stare pleadingly at Elizabeth, her eyes large and sorrowful.

Elizabeth laughed into them and let the clamp hover over the thick brown teat, teasing her with the open jaws and watching her break down and begin to cry.

“Crying already?” she crooned. “You have to have a reason to cry,” she argued, grinning excitedly as she snapped the clamp closed.

Brenda jerked as if electrified, then screamed through her gag as the serrated edges bit into her tender nipple and punctured the flesh. Blood seeped out into little drops that clung to the meeting of metal and skin tissue, pooling sweetly and bringing new moisture to Elizabeth's mouth.

“Lovely!” Elizabeth breathed. Brenda's sobbing shook it and the drop of blood broke from the clamp to dribble slowly down and leave a slender path of drying blood behind. Smiling sadistically, Elizabeth gripped Brenda's other breast and was presented with thick flesh already engorged with the knowledge of what was to come.

“Are you ready?” Elizabeth asked excitedly; as she showed her the open jaws of the other clamp and let her see the serrated edges that would soon cut into her tender teat.

Brenda shook her head and snorted loudly, her eyes never larger as she stared at the cold metal that was coming closer and closer to her extended nipple.

“Say please!” Elizabeth demanded, the edges of the clamp now hovering over the precious little teat, its touches only serving to make it swell still further.

Gurgles and whimpering came from around Brenda's gag while her eyes pleaded to be let off.

Elizabeth smiled lovingly at the sorrowful face, and let the jaws close.

Brenda jerked once more, squealing in agony, as her second teat was punctured, bright blood appearing to then run smoothly down the curve of her bust and hang there for a moment, before dropping to the carpet.

“It's all right! Nipples grow numb very quickly,” she told Brenda knowledgeably.

Elizabeth smiled towards Rachel, her excitement flaring as she saw the look of horror on the child's face and then sat down beside her for a moment, caressing her and murmuring into her ear.

“You haven't got breasts yet, have you?” she teased.

“No Miss” Rachel replied, as Miss Martin caressed her chest, feeling her tiny nipples under the thin nightdress and smiled as the girl jumped and panted as she pinched them roughly.

Rising, Elizabeth went to her case and brought out her favourite tool a nice piece of leather, two inches broad and six long, that had a braided handle eighteen inch’s long attached to it.

The unbending handle meant it could swing through the air much more fiercely than a full leather belt, and yet the end mirrored that of a belt, producing the same broad impact mark.

Without being as limp as a belt, it could be used with much more precision too, like between a girl’s thighs or on the underside of a boy's cock, even on their anuses or, as in this case, to swat the clamped tips of breasts, tearing the clamps away so that the assaulted nipples could then be excruciatingly slapped while they slowly bled.

Brenda watched as Elizabeth approached her and began to whimper and squirm, her breath quickening, her eyes remained fastened on the evil weapon.

Elizabeth grinned. “You know what this is for don't you? I can see it in your eyes,” she giggled.

Brenda began to cry anew, tears flowing down her cheeks as her lips tried to form words around the gag in her mouth. Elizabeth listened, excitement heating the sodden gusset of her panties. Then she reached out with the tool and touched the tip to Brenda's abdomen.

Brenda jerked forward, sucking in her stomach as she tried defending herself, her muddled brain unable to understand how that shoved her chest forward, presenting Elizabeth with her breasts. They hovered before her, the weighty clamps pulling downward to bring a new flair of sensation across her chest.

“Ah, yes!” Elizabeth hissed, and her arm quickly moved.

Before Brenda could move, Elizabeth had drawn her arm back and swept it round.

The leather end of the implement landed soundly on the pinnacle of her right breast tearing the clamp off, and sending it across the room. The reality of the moment hung still for a second, then Brenda arched backwards, a shrill scream escaping her gag as her torn nipple bled freely over her breast, running down the underside to then slide in rivers down her ribcage.

Elizabeth and Rachel stared, their expressions completely different. Elizabeth exalted over the mother’s agony her eyes and cunt ablaze, and Rachel whimpered her arms working in an effort to free herself before it became her own turn.

“Now!” Elizabeth whispered, as she reached out with the implement to gauge the distance to the woman's remaining clamp.

“No, please!” Brenda cried through her gag, her far-flung thighs trying to move her back and away from her tormentor.

Elizabeth smiled and reached back.

For a moment she was still, inhaling the marvellous sensation she felt as the woman cringed in front of her. Then her arm swung round and the leather tip swept across her other breast, slapping into it forcibly before ripping the clamp off to send it sailing across the room in the other direction.

“Oh yes!” she cried, watching the bound woman toss her upper body back and forth as the agony of her torn nipples surged into her. She blindly reached into her case and extracted the small bottle of vinegar. With eyes locked on the woman in front of her, she dashed the dark liquid across her chest and grinned broadly as it entered the woman's wounds and made her scream afresh with new agony.

“Isn't that good?” Elizabeth asked, swinging the woman round so she could press herself up against her rear and swing an arm round to capture a breast and rub it. More vinegar entered the torn flesh and Brenda jerked and arched, whimpering as she felt Elizabeth's other hand slide down between her thighs.

Knowing fingers delved in the pool of wetness sitting within her vulva and, in freeing it, brought hot waves of pleasure shooting up her body. She arched into the knowing fingers and cried out in bliss, spending as fingers closed on one of her nipples, twisting and turning it with the same intensity as the ones pulling and twisting her prepuce.

******

“Did you see your mummy have an orgasm?” Elizabeth asked Rachel with a smile.

Sitting beside her she fed one finger after another so she could timidly lick her mother's nectar from them. Rachel burnt, trembling with a new awareness within, wanting to be loved, and yet knowing that she would have to undergo some painful lessons first.

“You see! Your mummy pretended not to like it at first, but she does really, doesn't she?” Elizabeth asked with a smile.

Rachel stared at her mother, who was sitting astride an armchair, her thighs, still fastened apart, lying across each of the arms leaving her cunt in plain view. Meaty lips gleamed and glowed, her long and thick prepuce still standing proud of her wet fleshy cunt.

Looking up, Rachel gazed at her mother’s sagging breasts and squirmed with the strange feelings that rippled through her at seeing the bright marks and the torn nipples.

“I think its time we took your panties off, don't you?” Elizabeth asked Rachel, pulling her shift up until she was no longer sitting on it, and then sliding her hands along the outside of her thighs until she came to the band of thick white cotton.

“Lift your bottom!” Elizabeth ordered. Mesmerized by her naked mother, Rachel obeyed and felt her cheeks grow warmer as the fabric was slowly drawn downwards.

“Oh, what a pretty little girl you are!” Elizabeth cried, pulling the garment from the child's thighs before spreading the scuffed knees to more amply view the puffy young cunt before her. Washing had removed the wording she had placed there the previous day and once again it looked young and virginal.

Delicately easing Rachel's labia apart, Elizabeth gazed into her glowing flesh, spreading the little hole of her vagina to smile at the wetness dribbling slowly out of her.

“What a lovely little cunt,” she murmured. Fingers pulled it further open and the hole opened with them, spreading in a way only a well-used cunt could open.

Her dark anus beckoned. “Soon,” Elizabeth murmured to herself.

She kissed Rachel once more on the cheek, and then left her with her thighs apart and her lovely little cunt on display, returning to her mother to smile down at the whimpering woman.

“Rachel clearly likes seeing you being hurt,” she told her, standing over her as she calmly began to take off her clothes. “So I think we should give her a show, don't you?” Elizabeth asked. She came to her bra and undid it, letting it fall from her arms before lifting her hands to her tight bust to stroke the sensitive skin and smile as her nipples swelled with feeling.

Brenda whimpered behind her gag and shook her head, begging not to be hurt any more. Elizabeth laughed. She so loved it when others whimpered and trembled before her. It was nearly as pleasing as hearing them scream and seeing them strain in their bonds after being hit.

It was nearly as good as watching flesh rise after being struck, or seeing soft skin tenderised until it glowed. She stepped from her trousers and stroked her pubis through her panties, smiling knowingly as Brenda's eye’s slid down to gaze at her.

“Inquisitive, aren't you,” she purred.

She reached lower and felt the wetness on her gusset just as the pressure of her fingers caused swirling pleasure to float into her chest.

“Oh, I'm going to hurt you so nicely!” she promised.

Stepping away, she slid her panties off and replaced them with a pair of red latex pants, ones that had a double dildo attached to the gusset, three inches inside and six inches outside.

The weight to the external dildo placed pressure on the internal dildo so, as she moved, the bobbing up and down caused a pleasant rhythmic movement within her cunt. Rachel stared at it, the young girl astonished by it and feeling even stranger as Elizabeth smiled at her and stroked it.

“See how nice it is?” she asked the child.

Rachel whimpered again, her thighs quivering in their desire to close and tense and protect her from the thing in front of her.

Elizabeth giggled. “I have other things for you,” she told her. “This is for your mummy,” she chuckled. Picking up a length of cord, Elizabeth returned to Brenda to find her panting through her nose, her flushed face staring at the dildo that extended from Miss Martin’s tightly fitting latex pants.

Elizabeth placed the looped cord behind Brenda's head, then wrapped it around the pole that held the woman's knees apart, pulling on it until it pulled the rod towards her head, lifting her thighs to expose her cunt and widely parted bottom cheeks.

Tying the rope off and ignoring Brenda's whimpering, Elizabeth walked round to admire the woman's displayed privates. Her cunt now faced upwards, moist and heated, a wet and meaty coral from which to feed from. Just below was revealed the dark ring of her anus, her bottom rising steeply from the crevice of its home before sliding tightly away towards her thighs.

“First! Some preparation,” she told Brenda, picking up the leather implement she'd used earlier and caressing the tip lovingly, just where Brenda could see.

Elizabeth tapped the end to the apex of Brenda's cunt and grinned as it brought a wail from the bound and gagged woman. Fresh tears poured from her eyes as she stared down at Elizabeth, pleading with her from around her gag and weeping all the more because she knew it was all in vein.

“That's it!” Elizabeth teased. “Watch it rise and fall,” she urged, the taps becoming light slaps as she lifted the end higher and higher to bring the tip down with gradually more and more force.

“Argh!” Brenda screamed, her body arching and tossing.

None of this stopped Elizabeth from continuing to slap the swollen and bright prepuce standing proudly from Brenda's tenderised labia. The leather dropped to slap loudly onto her flesh and the woman jerked and shook, her pale and bruised body beginning to gleam as the tensing of muscle and the effort of rolling from side to side produced a fine sheen of perspiration upon her.

Elizabeth stopped to reach out and stroke Brenda's labia, running her fingers over and through her labia, pulling on her tender flesh while the woman panted for breath and pleaded for relief.

“No! Not yet,” Elizabeth told her in reply to her pleading eyes.

She lifted the leather and let it slap lower, first on the soft inner thighs bordering the hollow of her vagina, then on the under-swell of the woman's bottom, brightening the skin as she tenderised it.

“Please!” Brenda screamed, struggling in her bonds, her eyes staring wildly as she realised just where the leather was destined.

Elizabeth slid two fingers into Brenda's cunt and added a third when she felt how hot and open the woman was. “You’re really enjoying this, aren't you,” she grinned, her gleaming fingers making a show for Rachel, letting the young girl see how they slid so smoothly in and out, gleaming with the excitement of her mother.

With a grin of evil excitement, Elizabeth wiped her hands and then picked up the leather implement again. As Brenda screamed through her gag, Elizabeth began to sharply slap her anus with the leather tip; her concentration focused on hitting the dark corrugated anal ring and watching it flinch and tighten with the pain.

“Oh yes!” Elizabeth breathed as wetness trickled down to make Brenda's freshly burning anus gleam. The strange conflict within the woman was at its height; pain engulfing her nipples, cunt and bottom, while at the same time her total submissiveness excited her.

The urge to open up to the wicked leather rod fought against the urge to escape and protect herself, leaving her a quacking mass of womanhood who, bound, could not escape even if she’d wanted to. The tongue at the end of the rod continued to slap painfully against her defenceless anus, the pain driving deep and hard into her bottom, like the anal rape she so adored yet could never admit to.

Each additional slap only served to drive her deeper into the myriad of pain and pleasure she had spent her life oscillating between going towards and trying to escape from.

“Yes! It looks ready now,” Elizabeth told her breathlessly, her fingers drawing wetness from the open trough of Brenda's cunt to smear the bright and sore ring of the woman's anus. She shuffled closer to the bound woman pushing the rubber cock downwards, making her groan as the angle pushed the smaller dildo inside her slip forward.

Bright red rubber met with Brenda's glowing anus and hovered there for a moment as Elizabeth looked along the woman's bruised body to take pleasure from her blood encrusted nipples and the agonies expression on her face. She then surged into her bottom, gasping with delight as, on top of the physical pleasure she felt from the clever latex pants, she saw the pain of Brenda's face and heard her agonised squeal.

“Ah, yes!” she hissed.

Elizabeth’s hands slid up to Brenda's breasts and mauled them while her hips thrust with manic need against the woman’s tightly clenched anus. Each thrust communicated directly with her aching cunt where the three inch extension inside the latex gusset was forced back and forth. A long thrust, pushed the gusset back against her own swollen clitoris, and the cock slid into Brenda's anus, filling her with unforgiving rubber dildo.

“Lovely!” Elizabeth gasped, taking hold of Brenda's nipples and pulling on them.

Brenda's wounded flesh re-opened and fresh blood seeped out over Elizabeth's fingers. Their owner wept, sucking breath in through her nose as she felt the hard and cold dildo being pulled and pushed in and out of her anus.

Elizabeth then moved a hand down to Brenda's cunt and forced three straightened fingers inside, flexing them while surging forward, an intense and brilliant pleasure sweeping up through her.

“Orgasm, you bitch!” she cried, pinching the sticky wet nipples, then pulling and twisting them.

“Agh, agh, agh!” Brenda cried with increasing need as her nipples, her cunt and her bottom were all assaulted. Her head thrown back she felt the terrible pain transcend to pleasure, an incredible sensation that swelled beyond her control and overwhelmed her.

Elizabeth saw the look of exaltation on Brenda's face and turned her half sunken hand to bring her thumb to the woman's swollen prepuce. Thrusting inwards with her hips, her nails biting into the firm flesh behind one of Brenda's nipples, Elizabeth also pushed down with the ball of her thumb, capturing the unforgiving flesh she could feel beneath the swollen hood and sandwiching it up against her pubic bone.

“Orgasm, bitch!” Elizabeth cried, her own pleasure spike sweeping up to explode within her. Shaking with the torrent of sensation, she blindly pinched on the woman's rubbery nipple while continuing to hurt her. Brenda screamed her own delight, giving vent to an explosive orgasm as a pleasure too intense for her carried her into oblivion.

******

Elizabeth stood and stretched, the marvellous euphoria of her orgasm spreading over her, leaving her glowing with pleasure and relaxed for the first time in days. Brenda was unconscious, her head hanging lax to one side while her cunt remained open and her nipple gently bled over the curve of her breast.

She then turned towards Rachel, smiling her kindest while surveying the nervous little girl. She looked particularly appealing with her thighs now obediently parted to expose her smooth young cunt, while her arms were gathered behind her with rope and a large and brightly coloured ball filled her tiny mouth.

“Did you enjoy that?” she asked, kneeling and pulling the girl backwards by her hair, her fingers diving between her thighs to unfold her rounded labia and to feel the warm wetness between. She grinned at finding her so wet and plugged the tight little entrance to her cunt with a finger, purring at it trembled about her, then opened.

“Taught you well, didn't they my darling?” Elizabeth purred. Her finger entered to her second knuckle, and then was drawn out to taste the flavour, groaning, as she tasted the sweet youth of it. Putting it back, she gently stroked the bulb of the child’s exposed clitoris, smiling into her young face as pleasure swept up from her groin.

“You like it too, don't you?” she breathed. “Do you love me?” she asked, her fingers expertly arousing the lovely young girl. Rachel nodded, her nose flaring as she urgently inhaled, her thighs parting as far as she could manage as the sensations spiralling into her increased.

Elizabeth grinned and continued to gently stroke the tender flesh between the young girl's thighs spreading the moisture that trickled from her little cunt and exciting her until the growing sensation caused the child to thrust her crotch forward in anticipation.

“Do you really love me?” Elizabeth asked in a soft voice, a finger delicately sliding the hood of her prepuce back and forth on her swollen little clitoris.

“Yes, Miss!” Rachel answered, her thighs quivering, right on the edge of an overwhelming orgasm.

Elizabeth stopped and looked down at the child’s charms, smiling at how sweet the young cunt had become, swollen and suffused with excitement, glowing like a ripened peach.

“I think you need something special for that,” Elizabeth said, drawing Rachel’s little bottom to the front of the armchair, and laying her back with a cushion under her lower back to help arch her trunk.

Finally, kissing the slope of her exposed bottom and inhaling the soft scent of her freshly washed skin, she slid her shift up until it was gathered under her chin, the little peak of her nipples exposed, the burn marks around them just little pink points of tender flesh.

Rising from beside the child, Elizabeth went to her case and peeled her tight latex pants off, groaning as the three-inch dildo extension within the gusset was drawn from her. The ghost of it stayed within her, a feint reminder of what she was missing as she threw the garment aside and rummaged for what she wanted.

It was a glove; a cotton glove that was soft on the inside, but on the outside, however, little nylon hooks had been sewn into the palm and fingers. Elizabeth pulled it tightly over her hand and smiled.

Approaching the little girl she laughed when she stared at the glove nervously closing her thighs, the slender limbs hiding all but the smoothly indented apex of her labia.

“Come on now! Be a good girl,” Elizabeth begged, kneeling at the child's feet and tugging at her scuffed knees. “Be good,” she urged softly, hoping the other ropes wouldn't be necessary. Then slowly and hesitantly, her thighs moved apart again.

Elizabeth smiled at her and felt her excitement build with the anguish she saw portrayed on Rachel's face. The young girl obeyed her new mistress and exposed herself, totally vulnerable and unprotected in front of the person who loved her, but aimed to hurt her. Just as slowly as the child’s thighs had parted, Elizabeth leaned her own naked body over the nervous girl and pulled the gag from her mouth.

“You do love me, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, Miss!” Rachel answered softly licking her lips.

Elizabeth ran her gloved hand lightly down the girl's small trunk, watching as the child's belly rippled and her thighs jumped.

“Will you let me hurt you?” she asked with bated breath. Rachel licked her lips again, her breath quickening as the rasping glove stroked her sinking abdomen and brought strong sensations darting through her little cunt.

“Yes Miss,” she finally answered, her cheeks heated while her heart thudded madly under her tense teat.

Elizabeth moved round, the better to bring her gloved hand down on the bulbous head of Rachel's young vulva and delivered the first light smack, grinning as Rachel's pelvis jerked. The child gasped, her eyes widening, and she smiled into them, promising her many more.

“Good girl,” she breathed, turning her eyes from Rachel's hurt expression to watch the pinpoints of colour rise across the child's young cunt, bright points against the otherwise glowing labia. Her hand rose and fell again, forcing the little nylon hooks to scour Rachel's vulva and lifting another sharp cry from the child.

Once more, little points of vivid colour rose on the tender and rounded flesh of the child's cunt, beautifying it for Elizabeth.

“Oh, how lovely!” Elizabeth gasped, continuing her smacking of the child's cunt, delighting in the girl's little strident cries, the sudden jerk of her slender hips and the quivering of her thighs as she fought the urge to close them and protect herself.

Rachel began to cry and Elizabeth stopped, long enough to lean over the child's small form and kiss her quivering young lips. Then she was holding the child's thighs apart with her body and with her free hand before continuing to careful smack the girl’s cute little cunt again with the special glove.

“That's it, cry!” Elizabeth offered, pressing the glove down upon her cunt and groaning delightedly when Rachel squealed and squirmed. “Does that hurt?” she purred, her gloved finger drawing the child’s youthful labia apart to graze the tender insides.

Rachel screamed, her pelvis arching high up as she tried escaping the tearing sensation that followed the finger as it ran from the base of her prepuce down, over her urethra, over the quivering mouth of her vagina, and down towards her anus.

“Such a lovely sight!” Elizabeth gasped, gazing at the young cunt, now raw and bright with tender marks. She held the young thighs apart, her own cunt melting with passion at the lovely sight before her.

“Just a few more!” she gasped, beginning to smack the girl's cunt again, her eyes alight as each smack brought fresh colour to the lovely sight before her.

Rachel couldn't arch any higher, yet each new smack made her jerk upwards as if, in doing so, she could evade the sharp and hot sensations that swarmed through her little body. Her screaming made her hoarse and her thighs quivered with overuse, yet nothing could diminish the fiery sensations each smack brought.

“No, please!” she whimpered, too breathless to scream any more.

Elizabeth plucked the raging labia apart and groaned as she surveyed the wetness gleaming in the mouth of her young little cunt. With a sob her mouth descended upon it, opening to let her tongue spear the child's vagina and savour the extra sweet wetness her spanking had produced. Her gloved hand continued to stroke her abdomen, her flank and her bottom, continuing to cause Rachel to jerk and gasp, but her cunt was lovely and tenderised, full of sweet flavour for Elizabeth to delight in.

“Oh, you're so lovely!” she gasped, lifting her mouth to suck in a much needed breath and then use her fingers to pull the child’s vulva wide apart.

“Mummy!” Rachel wept, struggling to get free as Elizabeth’s strong and clawing hands gripped the cheeks of her bottom and lifted her pelvis up, towards her mouth.

Brenda came round and looked across to them. The plight on her daughter's face made her groan and, despite herself, her hand burrowed between her legs to begin running her nail across her tender cunt, reawakening old pain and bringing a new wetness to her crotch.

“MUMMY!” Rachel screeched, shaking uncontrollably as the gloved thumb drew her prepuce hood back. Pain and pleasure erupted within the child, tensing every muscle, every fibre of her young form. Elizabeth fed on her pleasure, her mouth held wide to receive the little spurts of juice, coming off on it without having to be touched.

******

Elizabeth stood and surveyed the mother and daughter, the mother ceasing her movements as her eyes fell upon her, begging again with a new urgency as the eyes then turned on the young girl, even now her eyes fluttering open after her incredible orgasm.

“Awake again!” Elizabeth grinned.

She reached into her case, grinning as Rachel followed every movement with her nervous eyes. A quick rummage and her hand found what she wanted and pulled it out for the girl to see. The latex mask she held had its eyes and mouth sewn shut by zippers. It also sported a nose that reminded Rachel of Pinocchio; long and thin, but with bumps all down its length. Nothing like a real nose at all.

“Now Rachel! It's time you learnt how to please your mistress,” she said, as she undid the fastenings at the back of the mask.

Once again, Elizabeth was struck by the look on the young girl's face and smiled through her expanding pleasure as she moved to kneel astride the child and fit the mask gently over her head. A little whimpering sound escaped her, the sound darting down into Elizabeth's cunt as she slid the zip together at the back of Rachel's head, then opened the eye holes so the child’s frightened eyes could peek out and excite her even further.

“It's all right!” she purred, shuffling up the girl's slender little body and posing for the child to look between her thighs. She opened herself, drawing petal folds of flesh further apart so the young girl could look on her more fully, and felt herself shake with the excitement of the moment.

“See?” she asked breathlessly, a manicured nail drawing her prepuce back to let the child see the raw and swollen head of her clitoris. Rachel stared, her arms bound behind her, her own little peach-like cunt still gleaming from her orgasm, and puffy and bright from its recent smacking.

The knowledge made Elizabeth's heart race.

“Now! When I tell you, I want you to move your head up and down. Do you understand?” she asked the child.

Rachel nodded and Elizabeth giggled. “Yes! Just like that. I want you to nod your head when I tell you,” she breathed.

The moment was approaching and Elizabeth was ready for it, more than ready. The long, nose like dildo, needed no preparation for her hungry cunt. She could feel herself rhythmically pouting, dying to be filled, and rose up over it.

Holding Rachel's masked head still, Elizabeth placed the dildo at her cunt and let her thighs fold, sliding her down onto it. From under the mask's eyeholes, Rachel stared out, her young eyes crossing as her head was forced upwards, into the woman's crotch.

“Oh yesss!” Elizabeth sighed. The person who had crafted the dildo knew women, and the ridges along its length sent surges of pleasure swooping into her body as they travelled back and forth within her.

She took her hand from the back of Rachel's head and spread her thighs to offer herself up to the child, positioning herself with her hands on the back of the seat for support.

“Now!” she sobbed, fantasy and longing coming together in that moment.

Head lowered, she watched Rachel blink, then felt the cautious movement of the head, translated into a lovingly slow slide of the dildo partially out of her.

“Yes! Yes!” she gasped, the rubber ridges pulling at her vagina mouth. With all but the tip still within her, Rachel reversed her head movement and the ridged dildo pushed its way into Elizabeth's welcoming cunt, ignoring the tightening of her walls as her liquid wetness gave it fluidity.

The child's masked head met the woman's humid cunt and stopped for a moment, then slid back again.

“Oh Mother!” Elizabeth groaned, as she pulled at her pubis loving the extra pressure on the back wall of her vaginal mouth.

“Push that bottom out!” her mother's ghostly voice urged.

Elizabeth obeyed and gasped with delight as the surge of the dildo brought fresh pleasure. “Faster!” she gasped, her hand blindly finding Rachel's head to guide its speed. Sobbing soundlessly around the strangely flavoured knob in her mouth, Rachel obeyed, staring out at the woman's cunt as it moved near and far with the bobbing of her head.

“Faster, faster!” Elizabeth panted.

Rachel bit into the rubber knob and forced herself to rock her head back and forth, ignoring the pain in her arms and shoulders as she worked to please the woman who both hurt her, and loved her.

“Yes, yes!” Elizabeth cried triumphantly.

“Harder! Harder!” she all but screamed. Her body jerked with jolts of pleasure suddenly spiking within her and her breath quickened with the rage of another pleasure building like a flood tide inside of her. Rachel sobbed and thrust her head back and forth, blindly head-butting Elizabeth's crotch with every upward heave of her masked face.

Elizabeth's eyes widened as the sensations hit her. For a moment she was still, her mouth half open and her eyes widely staring at nothing. Then the full gale of her orgasm was upon her and her hands clamped upon the mask to hold it fully to her crotch, shaking with her delight and encouraging it still further with the dildo fully embedded within her.

******

Elizabeth rose off the mask, groaning with the departure of the lovely dildo from her clutching cunt. Her fingers automatically went to her crotch tenderly feeling the sensitive folds as the tingling aftermath of her orgasm slowly subsided.

Brenda stood to one side, a look of amazement on her face. Dried blood flaked from her stubby nipples while her vulva still glowed. Elizabeth smiled at her and leant down to pull Rachel's thighs apart. Her little vulva shone with its wetness, the little marks from the glove half faded and yet still evident.

“I want to see you suck your daughter’s cunt,” Elizabeth announced. Brenda swallowed and shuffled her feet.

“It's not an offer Brenda,” Elizabeth told her, her eyes hardening on the woman.

Brenda made a little noise in her throat and meekly fell to her knees in front of Rachel.

“Come on, slut!” Elizabeth urged. She stood over them and began rubbing her vulva, ignoring the complaints from her sensitive flesh as the rough handling brought shards of sensation screaming into her body.

Brenda eased her daughter's thighs further apart, until the full lips of her young labia broke apart and exposed the bright pink interior, then her head nervously slid forward until her extended tongue could just touch the thick folds.

“Do I have to make you?” Elizabeth asked, erupting from her self-pleasuring to stride over to her case. She returned with a short rattan cane and, without any preamble, brought it down across Brenda's bottom.

With a squeal of pain Brenda's head shot into her daughter's cunt. Half of her squeal was muffled against the young girl's flesh, the vibration of it causing her to rear up, into her mother's face.

“That's it!” Elizabeth agreed. She struck again, her eyes gleaming at the long red line her first strike had produced, and watched with satisfaction as Brenda screamed once more into her daughter's cunt.

Fresh tears flowed down the woman's cheeks as she sucked. Elizabeth watched to make sure that her weeping didn't detract from tonguing her daughter and from exciting her. Few sounds came from the masked girl, but her chest glowed and her narrow and childishly hips jerked upwards with fresh urgency, the tendons of her thighs standing out as she thrust her cunt up, into her mother's mouth.

“Faster!” Elizabeth ordered, using the cane again, firstly to deliver a sharp reminder to Brenda's bottom, then to pass it between her own thighs, rubbing it back and forth and then across her camel-foot vulva, gasping with the pleasure it brought her.

“Deeper!” she cried, bringing another swift stroke to Brenda's bottom, then watching the woman's extended tongue push its way into the mouth of her little daughter's vagina.

“Flick her clit!” she panted, delivering another sharp strike then quickly bringing it up between her own thighs. Her eyes stared at the tongue artfully flicking the long hood of Rachel's clitoris and her hand seemed driven by that of her dead mother's as she repeatedly slapped her own cunt with the cane.

“Yes, yes!” she gasped, speaking in time with the striking of her vulva and arching her thighs to allow the cane to slip between.

Rachel suddenly arched, her masked face jerking to one side as her belly rippled and her hips jerked from side to side. She was coming on her mother's mouth and Elizabeth stopped hitting herself to use the cane back and forth across her own inflamed clitoris, her eyesight dimmed and her passion for cruelty satisfied for the present.