CROSS-COUNTRY DUNGEON

BY LIRCROWFALL
Lircrowfall@yahoo.com

Steve rang the doorbell of the massive suburban mansion and was greeted at the door by 11-year-old Samantha, the captain of his cross-country team.

“Come on in, Coach. Everyone’s downstairs.”

He stepped inside and was immediately taken by the splendour of Samantha’s house, which even exceeded the outer ostentation of its size. He didn’t know what Samantha’s parents did for a living, but they sure weren’t primary school teachers like himself.

Sam lead him downstairs, her dirty blonde hair bouncing along in front of him. He hadn’t wanted to call this meeting, but after the last cross-country meet, he knew he had to do something to inspire team unity. The nine girls on his team -- three of them nine years old, three ten and three eleven -- had the ability to be league champions, but not if they kept acting the way they did toward each other in practice and at meets, and especially the way they acted toward Tabitha, a nine-year-old runner and the newest member of the team. They treated the poor girl as if she was below them, when in reality Steve knew -- and he suspected the other girls knew -- that she was their best runner.

The small furnished basement was in sharp contrast to the size of the rest of the house. The girls had set up several chairs around a coffee table in the middle of the room. They were all there: 9-year-old Tabitha, his best and quietest runner, looking -- as always -- unsure of herself. Siobhan, 9, the most artistic of the bunch. Her hair was a bright shade of blue on this fall day (it changed constantly). Frighteningly intense 9-year-old River, their youngest team member, who Steve always suspected of some sort of undiagnosed manic-depressive disorder. Veronica, the 10-year-old tomboy and naturally most athletic of the nine. The identical 10-year-old twins, Sarah and Tarah, with their hair pulled back in identical ponytails. Bookish and mathematical 11-year-old Matilda. Haughty and superior (this girl must come from money too, Steve thought) 11-year-old Miranda. And finally,11-year-old Samantha, their captain and social leader, who handed him a glass of water as he sat down.

“Thanks, Sam,” he said. “Where are your parents?”

“Coach, it’s 3 o’clock on a Friday,” she said, with a wry smile. “They’re still at work.”

“Right,” Steve said, and took a long sip of the water.

He began to talk then about team chemistry, about how they needed to come together and support each other, about how he thought the only one actually being a team player among them was their newest member, Tabitha. The 9-year-old looked horrified and somewhat frightened as he said this, no doubt, he thought, because kids these days were terrified of being seen as yielding to any sort of authority.

Steve’s throat felt dry as he spoke. He reached for the rest of the water Sam had given him, downed it one gulp, and began telling the girls how he wanted them to act at practice and at meets. He felt suddenly dizzy. They seemed to be listening. All nine were watching him intensely, hanging on his every word, absorbing his wisdom. Or at least it seemed to him, though he couldn’t tell because he felt so warm and stuffy in the tiny basement. Then the room started spinning. He thought he heard stuck-up Miranda say something about “It working,” but he couldn’t focus on source points of noise. His last memory was a close-up view of the carpet.

Steve awoke with a frigid shock, as of plunging into icy water. He looked around, his eyes adjusting to being awake and to a diffuse, soft reddish light that was around him. His mind was still cloudy but he could clearly make out athletic Veronica standing in front of him holding an empty bucket.

She was naked except for what appeared to be a black leather loin cloth and knee-high black leather boots.

His mind cleared instantly.

“Veronica? What the hell is go--” he tried to move toward her as he spoke, but soon realised he couldn’t. His arms were secured over his head, spread wide, his wrists locked into a pair of thick black leather cuffs that were suspended to some sort of pulley contraption on the ceiling. He gave a swift jerk on the chains.

“That won’t help.” It was Samantha’s voice. “Those are much, much stronger than even a muscular 30-year-old man like you.”

He looked around for her, and realised that some sort of collar was on his neck, another set of cuffs were on his ankles and were anchored to the floor about four feet apart, keeping his legs spread wide. Other than that, he was totally naked.

“Sam?” he said.

She stepped in front of him then, his team captain. Her shoulder-length, dirty-blonde hair was loose around her tanned face. She wore a silver latex long-sleeved top that only ran across the top of her chest and didn’t cover the preteen breasts that were sprouting there. She also wore silver latex hot pants, silver thigh-high boots and a thick silver belt that a had a coiled silver bullwhip from it.

“No,” she said. “For the next 48 hours, there is no Sam. You will call me ‘Goddess,’ but you will speak, of course, only when you are ordered to.”

Steve finally took note of his full surroundings. He was in a type of bondage dungeon, lit only by fake torches in the stone walls. The room was large. Far off to his left, he could make out what appeared to be a cage or series of cages against the wall. The ceiling was, so far as he could tell, at least 15 feet high.

“Your parents will be home soon, Sam,” he said.

“My parents will be home Monday afternoon,” she said. “They go away for four days every other weekend. They trust me.” Several of the girls snickered.

“My parents don’t think I know about their little playpen here. They don’t know that I have a key. They don’t suspect that the eight of us all take sewing and fabric and fashion design classes at school because make our own fetish outfits. And they certainly don’t know that we come down here every other weekend to punish your favourite little cross-country star.”

She motioned to the other side of the room, and kneeling there was Tabitha, hands behind her back, wearing only a thick black leather collar with metal studs and rings on it. A chain went from the collar to the hand of Miranda, the spoiled rich girl. She wore a red latex cat suit and knee-high, platform black leather boots. At her waist was buckled a thick black leather belt, and hanging from it was a two-foot long cat-o-nine tails with tight barbed knots on its ends.

Steve struggled to maintain control, but it was no use. He could feel his cock stiffening at the site of Tabitha, her strawberry blonde hair spilling over her naked shoulders, kneeling before Miranda.

“I suspected you would enjoy this,” Samantha said. “Looks like I was right.” She walked over to him then, reached out and stroked his cock very lightly with her fingernails. Steve drew a sharp intake of breath, closed his eyes and shuddered. Someone breathed on his chest. He opened his eyes to find the top of Siobhan’s blue-haired head leaning into him and licking his nipples.

Metal clanked and people shuffled across the room. He looked up and saw the twins and Miranda hauling Tabitha to her feet. Each twin grabbed an arm of the 9-year-old and held it high above her head, spread to the sides. He noticed a pair of shackles -- exactly like the ones he wore, only smaller in circumference for Tabitha’s tiny wrists -- hanging there. Miranda shackled the girl’s wrists in place, and then the trio moved to her ankles, where another set of cuffs was waiting to make sure Tabitha’s legs would stay spread wide. Miranda then leaned down toward the chained, naked Tabitha. She reached out with her tongue and licked Tabitha’s right nipple. Tarah, one of the twins, stroked Tabitha’s left nipple, while Sarah, the other twin, walked around behind the now-spread-eagled girl, grabbed Tabitha’s hair, pulled her head back and kissed her long and deeply on the lips.

Meanwhile, Siobhan kept up her assault on Steve’s nipples and Samantha kept oh-so-lightly touching his now-rock-hard cock. Someone was behind him, leaning in close, rubbing her preteen body up against his muscular frame. He couldn’t tell who it was, but he had the sensation of Matilda, the math whiz, with her eyeglasses and soft little fingers. Steve was coming close to climax. He wanted to shout, THIS IS WRONG, but every time he opened his mouth, someone -- usually Samantha -- touched him in just the right spot to make him lose his presence of mind. From across the room, he heard chains rattling and Tabitha moaning.

“That’s enough.” It was Sam’s voice again. The girls stopped touching Steve, and he quickly recovered enough to speak.

“Sam, this is insane,” he said. “Let us go now, and no one will get in trouble.”

“The two of you are already in trouble,” Samantha said. “I have to punish you, rather severely, for refusing to call me ‘Goddess,’ as I instructed you to. You will also, by the way, call all of the other girls ‘Mistress,’ except, of course, for the little whore over there in the chains. You can refer to that slut any way you’d like, as long as it’s degrading.”

“Sam--”

“You might want to cut that out now,” she said. “You see, we’re not just going to torment you, stupid. Every punishment you get here will be shared by the little cum-dumpster over there. The more you disobey, the more your star runner gets tortured.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest again, but thought better of it.

“Your whole team is here, Coach,” Samantha said. “All nine of us. Minus slut-puppy over there, that leaves eight, which means four each to torture each of you. Oh, and one more thing. When we’re done whipping you, you will have to pleasure all eight of us in a row. If you fail, slut-puppy will get two hours of her favourite: electric shock torture.”

“NOOO!!,” Tabitha pleaded from across the room. “Please, Goddess, no. Anything but that, please.”

Samantha just laughed.

“Shall we begin, girls?”

There was a sound of unbuckling and rustling as each girl picked up her chosen torture implement or unhooked it from her belt. For the first time, Steve took in fully what each girl was wearing. The twins, Sarah and Tarah, had on matching leather corsets, leather panties, leather boots and thick leather belts. Sarah was dressed all in white; Tarah, in black. Each of the twins had two floggers hanging from their belts, one at each hip, and even the four leather floggers matched the colours of their respective outfits. Siobhan, dressed only in a leather harness, picked up a long bamboo cane and gave it a good swoosh through the air before taking up a position behind Steve. River, the youngest team member at 9, wore only leopard-print latex panties and black leather boots. She held an enormous black leather bullwhip that, when fully extended, had to be taller than she was. Mathematical Matilda wore skin-tight black leather pants and a black leather bikini-like top. She held a long-handled horsewhip. Athletic Veronica, in only her black leather loincloth and boots, held a paddle that must have been 16-inches long. It was covered in little silver metal studs, and spelled out “PUNISH” in studs on one side. Miranda unhooked the cat-o-nine tails that had been hanging from her belt. And Samantha, their leader and Goddess, unhooked her long, silver bullwhip from her hip and let it unfurl on the dungeon floor right in front of Steve.

“Miranda, do the honours.”

Red-latex clad Miranda raised the cat-o-nine tails high over her shoulder. There was a loud whistle as the nine leather strands and barbs hurtled through the air. Tabitha closed her eyes, and her muscles visibly tensed.

THWACK!

The vicious whip connected right across the girl’s chest. She tried not to scream, but couldn’t help a loud grunt. Steve opened his mouth again to protest but was stopped short as something long, thin and stiff -- it must have been Siobhan’s rattan cane -- connected with his ass.

Then the melee was on.

The dungeon was alight with the flash of leather and aflame with the screams of Steve and Tabitha. They were each being tortured by four girls, all expertly wielding brutal implements of torment. On Steve were Siobhan with her cane, Matilda with her horsewhip, one of the twins with her dual floggers and, of course, Samantha with her bullwhip. She was snapping it down repeatedly onto Steve’s hard cock. Within minutes he’d given up on trying to avoid the blows and was grunting with each crack of a whip.

But mostly he watched what transpired 15 feet away.

They’d arranged themselves so that he could see everything. One of the twins and Veronica, holding that enormous studded paddle, stood behind the little girl whipping away. Veronica wielded the implement with two hands, delivering its blows as if it were a baseball bat to Tabitha’s sweet ass. In front of the chained girl stood red-latex clad Miranda with her cat-o-nine tails constantly flailing at Tabitha’s nipples and tummy. Opposite Miranda was River, wearing only her latex leopard print panties, lashing away with a bullwhip that kept snapping, with expert precision, on Tabitha’s hairless pussy. The helpless little girl screamed with every blow that landed.

THWACK!

AAARRRGGHH!

THWACK!

AAARRRGGHH!!

THWACK! THWACK!

NNNNRRRAAAAGGGHHH!!!

But soon, the whipping was coming too furiously. The strokes were incessant. All Tabitha could do was writhe in her chains, the muscles of her taught 9-year-old body contracting as she was lashed mercilessly and incessantly.

THWACK!

AARR--

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK-THWACK!

NNNNRRREEEAAAGGGHHH!!!!

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK-THWACK!! THW-THWACK-ACK!!

NNNNRRRRAAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!!!

The 9-year-old’s sinewy body was covered in sweat within minutes. She flailed her head about, straining in her chains, clenching her teeth, trying to avoid some of the worst of the blows, but every time she moved another whip struck her in a sensitive spot. Every time River’s bullwhip connected with Tabitha’s pussy, River laughed out loud. Vicious red welts sprung up on Tabitha’s tiny body.

Steve wasn’t fairing much better. Samantha’s silver bullwhip kept connecting with his cock or his balls. Tarah’s twin floggers were reddening his chest. Siobhan’s rattan cane kept hitting what felt like the same spot on his ass, and Matilda’s horsewhip was dancing over his back like an enraged mare.

The whipping continued for 20 minutes. With eight mistresses, the torment never let up, only increased in intensity and power as time wore on. Occasionally, Miranda would stop whipping Tabitha long enough to lean in and kiss the quivering, sweating slave girl deeply on the lips while Sarah with her floggers and Veronica with her studded paddle kept hammering away at Tabitha from behind.

At one point, Tarah ceased using her floggers on Steve and kneeled in front of him, taking his rock-hard, tormented cock in her mouth. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as Samantha, Matilda and Siobhan kept punishing him.

“Open your eyes, slave. I want you to look at the slut across the room,” Samantha told him, as her bullwhip connected with his upper chest.

He watched. River was going down on Tabitha, her head between Tabitha’s sweat-covered and welt-streaked thighs. Around the two of them, the whipping of Tabitha continued relentlessly. Tabitha’s eyes closed in pleasure at the touch of River’s tongue on her pussy, but then flew open in pain. Steve, through the haze in his mind created by everything around him and by Sarah’s lips around his cock, barely registered what he was seeing. River was pulling down and away, slowly, from between Tabitha’s thighs, and she had Tabitha’s preteen clitoral hood clenched firmly between her front teeth. Tabitha froze, wanting to pull away, but knowing that River was not going to let go. The other three girls, meanwhile, continued to mercilessly lash Tabitha’s sweat-drenched 9-year-old body. River had Tabitha’s glistening clitoral hood distended about four inches from Tabitha’s body. Then River clenched her teeth harder and turned her head slowly from side to side, twisting the engorged, tormented little girl’s clitoris.

AAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Tabitha screamed louder than she had yet. Steve felt himself coming to climax, when suddenly Sarah stopped sucking on him and stood up.

“I think he’s about ready, Goddess,” Sarah said. Across the room, Tabitha screamed again as River opened her mouth, letting go of Tabitha’s clitoris, which snapped back into place between her pussy lips.

“Very good. Mount him.”

Sarah took off her white leather panties but left her corset and belt on, hooking her whips back into place on her hips before grabbing hold of Steve’s shoulders and hauling herself up. She eased her 10-year-old, waifish body down, impaling her pussy on Steve’s rock hard member. She lifted her face to his and kissed Steve deeply and passionately on the lips. With her boots on Steve’s thighs, she began to pump up and down, and he began to thrust in rhythm.

There was a lull in the action. Tabitha stopped screaming and just stood there, sweating, quivering, hanging in her chains, watching. All the other girls watched too. Miranda’s mouth hung slightly open. River licked her lips. Veronica, who was also sweating from the exertion of going to bat on Tabitha’s ass, stepped forward and stroked Tabitha’s hair as she watched Sarah mount Steve. The smell of sweat, leather and latex filled the dungeon.

“Tarah, come over here and whip your sister,” Samantha said. Sarah’s 10-year-old twin, physically identical in every way except that she wore black instead of white leather, obeyed without question.

Samantha, her bullwhip coiled in her right hand, then walked across the room to behind Tabitha. Samantha reached up and stroked Tabitha’s sweat-drenched face, then ran her hand down the punished girl’s side, touching every red lash mark that criss-crossed the skin over Tabitha’s rib cage.

“Start the torment again,” Samantha said.

Steve heard a whoosh and then a CRACK!, and then Sarah, who was still pumping up and down on his cock, convulsed as her sister connected with a flogger stroke on her back. Sarah squealed into Steve’s mouth. He drank in her muffled scream just before Siobhan’s rattan cane struck his ass. He didn’t cry out, but he found his body involuntarily flinching forward and up, thrusting him deeper into Sarah’s pussy. Matilda’s horsewhip then connected with his back, and he let out a muffled cry into Sarah’s strawberry-flavoured mouth. From across the room there was a whistling sound, and then two loud SNAP! noises in immediate succession as Samantha’s and River’s bullwhips connected somewhere on Tabitha’s soft body, and then rattling chains and a scream from the 9-year-old. In mid scream, Miranda’s cat-o-nine connected across Tabitha’s chest.

WWWHHHHPPPSSSSSHHHH!!!

AAARRRRGGGGHHH!!!!

WWHHPPSSHH! WWHHPPSSHH!

NNNNNRRRRREEEEEAAAAGGHHH!!!

THWACK!

AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!

THWACK-THWACK!!

NNNNNRRRRRRRRAAAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!

THWA-THWACK!

AARRRRGGHHHH!!!

Steve watched this as Sarah, meanwhile, kept pumping away on his cock. She grunted and convulsed every few seconds as her twin sister’s whips connected with her back just above her corset, or with her skinny little bum. After a few minutes she spasmed long and hard and then came with a trembling shudder and a scream. Steve couldn’t help but do the same, coming at the exact moment Siobhan’s cane crashed into him, thrusting his cum deep into Sarah. He wanted to go limp in his chains, but the whippings continued.

“Stop,” Samantha said. “My turn.”

She walked slowly over to Steve, her high-heeled boots clicking on the stone of the dungeon floor. Sarah peeled herself off of him. Samantha touched his sweating, burning chest and then leaned down and ran her tongue over his nipples. His cock, limp from its exertion with Sarah, began to stiffen again. He groaned.

“Very nice,” Samantha said. “You might even last for most of us.” She turned to face the girls clustered around the heaving, sweaty Tabitha. “Why isn’t the slave slut screaming in torment?”

Immediately, wordlessly, the Mistresses turned their attentions back to Tabby and Steve. Samantha took off her latex hot pants as the tremendous whistling sound of half a dozen whips in flight filled the dungeon. Two connected with Steve’s back at the same time. All four Mistresses connected with Tabitha at once.

NNNNRRRRRRRREEEEEEAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!

Every part of her tiny body was clamped in pain. She screamed louder than she had all day.

“Much better,” Samantha said as she mounted Steve. The sounds continued: the whistle of a whip through the air, the strike of leather on flesh, the rattle of chains as Tabby convulsed in pain, the agonised scream of the tortured little girl. The sensations continued: the whoosh from behind Steve, the SNAP! against his ass or back, the extra thrusting of his body up and forward into Samantha.

The process repeated over and over again.

Samantha, apparently, was expert not only at painful torture, but at pleasurable torment as well. She varied her rhythm, alternately bringing Steve to the brink of cumming and then bringing him back down, only to work him yet higher before easing off. This continued for almost twenty minutes. All the while the brutal whippings continued. Pools of sweat formed under Tabby and Steve. Then Samantha, in a magnificent crescendo of whips and pain and pleasure and lust, allowed Steve to come, and they came at the same time, both of their screams temporarily even drowning out Tabby’s tortured yelps.

The whippings and fuckings continued for more than an hour as each mistress in turn mounted Steve and fucked him until he climaxed. All the while Tabitha’s 9-year-old body absorbed blow after blow from the vicious whips. Occasionally a mistress would lean in and touch Tabitha in mock soothery, or give her a long, wet kiss on the mouth. In the end, the little girl merely hung there in her chains, her entire body, from her knees up to neck, criss-crossed with streaks, welts and trickles of blood. One stroke, delivered by River’s bullwhip, even caught her across the cheek. River tried to lick the trickles of blood off Tabitha’s body. The tortured slave girl moaned at the touch of River’s tongue.

“I think we need a group shower,” Samantha said.

The next two hours were a blur to Steve. The dungeon was equipped with a large, white-tiled shower room that had an enormous jacuzzi-style tub along one whole wall. His mind felt hazy and limp as he allowed the girls, all now stripped of their mistress gear, to bathe him and rub soothing oils into his welts and wounds. Matilda and Veronica tenderly washed Tabitha and rubbed healing ointments into the slave girl’s wounds. After drying off, Steve found himself with the nine little girls inside a subterranean bedroom off the dungeon. the bed was a massive circular mattress, easily 15 feet in diameter, with tall wooden posts set at intervals around it. From the tops of each post hung a pair of thick black leather cuffs. Cuffs also dangled from the posts at bed level.

Samantha drew Steve onto the bed and kissed him passionately, slowly on the mouth.

“You did well,” she said. “Tabitha is not going to have to undergo the electric shock torture -- not right now, at least.”

He looked around. On one side of the bed, the twins were cuddling with and caressing Tabitha’s tormented body. Along one of the posts, Miranda had Veronica kneeling with Veronica’s hands chained over her head. Miranda was strapping on a massive black rubber dildo that had knobs and stiff rubber barbs along its shaft.

“Punishment fuck me, mistress,” Steve heard Veronica whimper. The athletic girl thrust her pussy toward Miranda. “Please, Mistress, please punish fuck me ...”

Against one post, nearby to Steve and Samantha, River was chained with her wrists and ankles behind her back. She stared hungrily at the other girls, but made no attempt to struggle against the chains.

“Goddess, may I ask a question?” Steve said.

“You may.”

“Why is River chained to a post by herself?”

“River has ... trouble drawing distinctions between pleasure and pain,” Samantha said. “It’s not that she’s the most sadistic of us -- that honour goes to Miranda. And it’s not that we don’t want her to love giving and receiving pleasure and pain -- obviously. It’s that she simply doesn’t know the difference. If she is allowed free while still full of energy, we’re a bit afraid of what she might do. So when we’re in bed, especially when we’re sleepy, like tonight, we chain her up to keep her from hurting anyone. Still we love her. Would you join me?”

Eleven-year-old Samantha crawled over to River and began sucking on one of the 9-year-old girl’s nipples. Steve put his lips around the other. He reached down and put his hand on River’s soft, hairless pussy. River roared like a mountain lion, arched her body toward Samantha and Steve, and then began to purr as the two caressed her and licked her.

After a few minutes, Samantha pulled away.

“I must attend to Siobhan before she does something too creative with Matilda. Use little River here all you’d like. Just don’t get too close to her teeth.”

Steve rolled River’s dripping little clitoris around between his fingers and kept sucking on her tiny pink nipples. The girl started thrashing in her chains and was keeping up a steady stream of purring and moaning with occasional roars thrown in. Steve abruptly stopped at one point, flipped over onto his back, and pulled himself underneath River so that his mouth was positioned right below her hairless pussy. Then he went to work with his tongue and lips. After only a minute or two, someone put her lips around his cock -- unbelievably, it was hard again, despite coming eight times that afternoon -- and started sucking. He glanced down to see Siobhan’s blue hair dangling over his cock. She glanced up at him, green eyes looking through a net of blue hair, and hummed as she kept sucking. Across the bed, Tabitha was sound asleep in the arms of the naked 10-year-old twins who were dozing off themselves. Eleven-year-old Miranda had Veronica flipped over now and was thrusting the knobby, massive dildo into Veronica’s ass. The 10-year-old athletic girl was letting out a soft, high-pitched moan with each thrust. Bookish Matilda, 11, and Samantha were kissing and stroking each other’s hair.

Steve went in hard with his tongue on River’s pussy. He felt himself tiring, the day’s exertions having worn him out. He brought the little girl to climax in about 10 minutes, and he came into Siobhan’s mouth at exactly the same time. Siobhan shimmied up next to him so the two were holding each other, staring up at the satisfied River.

“It’s OK if we unchain her now. She should be too tired to cause any trouble,” Siobhan said. They undid River’s chains, found some pillows, and Siobhan and River slid their 9-year-old bodies next to Steve, their heads resting on each side of his chest. Steve drifted off to sleep, the gentle thrusting of Miranda and Veronica in his ears, the naked bodies of two gorgeous, exhausted little girls, taking deep, even breaths, asleep on his chest.