SUMMARY JUSTICE

BY LOWLIFE
lowlife_@fastmail.fm

Funny how you do things on the spur of the moment; things you'd never normally contemplate. I mean, I would never have done anything like that back home, but something just snapped in my head and one thing led to another and... well, it happened. Can't say I'm proud of what I did, but it was a few amazing hours I'll never forget.

And nor, I am sure, will she.

My contract had finished and I was all packed and ready to fly home. Four months in the back end of nowhere. And I'd worked my nuts off in that Godforsaken place, putting in hundred hour weeks to more than earn my bonus, though the project had completed on time and within budget, so I was doubly happy. We engineers take pride in a job well done. It had been interesting, if monotonous, living in that dangerous and backward country, with its crowds and sights and smells and strange customs, but I had no desire ever to return. Work and sleep - not much else. I looked around my small portakabin bungalow, empty and ready to hand back to the company, and remembered the few waking hours I'd actually spent in it, reading, listening to the BBC World Service, and bemoaning the lack of decent draught beer. Shit - I had hardly left the site in all that time. At least it had been quiet and safe in this little temporary home of mine, set as it was in a small cul-de-sac backing on to the main factory construction site towards the edge of town. My oasis of calm, less than ten minutes from the mayhem and poverty of the city centre.

My cab wasn't due until late that night and I was killing time. The packing cases had only been collected and there was just my suitcase, hand luggage and me in the spartan little building that had been my home for the previous sixteen weeks. In twenty-four hours' time I would be enjoying a decent steak, a few glasses in the Stube by the Hauptbahnhof and, please God, the prospect of an accommodating tart afterwards. I resolved to splash out on a whole hour with some obliging Natasha. Life was good.

I was in the bathroom when I heard the creaking floorboard. I zipped myself up and listened. There was someone else in the bungalow.

Damn! I had handed my automatic in to the company armoury first thing that morning - all ex-pats carried them as a matter of course in that lawless place - and I felt extremely exposed. Crime was such a fact of life there, but this was the first time I had experienced it at first hand. What shitty luck: on my last day, too.

Silently, I twisted the handle and peered through the crack in the door. I just caught a glimpse of a small figure slipping into the bedroom, where I had left my case.

I stepped out into the hall just as she came back out, clutching my laptop case to her chest. A small, coffee-coloured girl, with a mass of wild black hair framing her small face. Cheap dress in lurid orange and pink and tatty trainers on her smooth, skinny legs. Holding my bloody precious laptop.

We stared at each other for a second and then she tried to dash past me.

I yelled and made a grab for her, somehow snatching a handful of her dress as she swerved and ducked. I felt the thin material rip, heard and felt the tearing, but it had been enough to snare her and I swung about and managed to loop my other arm around her tiny waist.

She cried out and dropped the computer. I lifted her off the floor and her legs and arms flailed wildly and she was squealing and I had to lean well away to avoid her flying fists. I can remember looking down at my laptop case and feeling the red mist of anger well up - it had better not be broken, you little cunt!

I saw the front door still ajar and I guiltily realised that when the movers had taken away the packing cases, I had not checked it was shut and locked. A stupid lapse on my last day.

What else was on my mind at that point, I have no idea. Her hands were beating my face and shoulders and her heels were bruising my legs and so all I wanted to do was put her down. But no way was I going to let her get away. Crossly, I kicked the front door closed, hefted the squirming child under my arm and carried her into the bedroom and slamming that door closed behind me too, then literally threw the wriggling girl on to the bed.

She bounced and I glimpsed the flash of white pants at the top of her legs. Her dress had torn from shoulder to waist and her tiny, immature little breasts were on display, barely standing proud of her bony chest, with soft, spongy, nut-brown nipples at their tips. I would put her at eleven or twelve years old, thin yet muscular, and no more than half my weight.

Yet she was a thief and she had tried to nick my stuff, which really pissed me off. The hurt look she glared at me when she looked down and tried to pull the torn flap of her dress back up over her chest really got to me.

How the fuck dare she look so fucking indignant? With my laptop probably in bits on the hall floor?

I wasn't aware of thinking anything in particular. It was my instinct that decided she needed to be taught a lesson.

Summary justice.

I turned the key in the lock and pocketed it.

As I walked towards the bed, her attitude changed. Not so cocky now, eh? She began to mutter platitudes in her sing-song native tongue. And that was genuine fear in her eyes.

I felt a hot shudder pass through my entire body, rich and exciting. A sense of power. Primeval pleasure. I looked down at the tiny girl, curling up defensively on the bare mattress, eyed her pretty, scared face and her soft, naked legs and the way her slender fingers tugged at the edges of her ripped dress, and the raw lust surged through me. My cock hardened in an instant.

Oh yes, I would teach her a good lesson.

Her thin, sculpted lips quivered, and her tongue flitted between her large, perfect teeth. She was so small, and fragile and vulnerable.

I wanted to hurt her.

God knows where my thoughts were coming from. Never before had I been conscious of any such feelings. I was no sadist. A good screw was always enough for me. Nothing adventurous, nothing kinky. And as for underage girls - no way!

Now it was something very different. There could be no doubt where my subconscious was taking me. I was being compelled to do it.

I reached down and pulled her wrist away from her chest. I yanked her to her feet and before she could get her balance, I had taken hold of the torn dress and wrenched it apart, tugging relentlessly until the cheap garment was completely torn down the front. Ignoring her protests, I pulled the remnants from her shoulders and down her arms and tossed the rag aside. She looked up, terrified, one hand instinctively reaching down across the crotch of those little white pants.

"Steal my stuff, would you?" I yelled into her terrified face, "Well I'll show you what becomes of thieves who try to run off with my property..."

I don't know if she understood my English, but since I towered over her and had my face only inches from hers, she was suitably intimidated and silenced.

Grasping her sinewy shoulders, I turned her to face the bed, then shoved her roughly forward, pressing the down on the small of her back.

"Be still, you little bitch!" I shouted. She understood that all right.

I stood close against the backs of her legs.

The sight of her slim little bum, the contrast of the brilliant white of her panties against her perfect, dark skin: it was intoxicating. I leaned over her, hardly aware of what my hands were doing, but my eyes feasted on the delicate hollows in her pert buttocks and the deep cleavage of her little bottom, and, as the roll of her panties progressed in my fingers down her hard, young thighs, the first tantalising glimpse of her cunny, neat lips squeezed between the tops of her thighs and the rough calico of the mattress.

Until that moment, I don't think I had any consciousness of what I was doing or where this was leading, but as I stared hard at the cleft of her sweet young cunt, studying appreciatively the way her labia had parted slightly, right at the opening to her vagina, it became clear that retribution would certainly involve my fucking this little kid. I was at once scared, surprised at myself, and overwhelmingly, incredibly horny.

But first things first. I tugged on her knickers and as I pulled them to her ankles, I ripped off her dirty trainers too.

I kept one shoe in my hand, and half knelt, half crouched, so that my knee was pressing down on her back. With my free hand, I gathered her wrists and held them over her spine so that she was pressed hard over the side of the bed, her feet still on the floor mat and her face and body squashed, immobile, into the mattress. Her narrow, hard bottom was bent over the edge of the mattress, and simply begging to be beaten.

Her tiny body snapped taut immediately the sole of the trainer smacked down on to the stretched flesh of her left buttock, with a clearly audible crack and leaving a small patch of pink that flushed deeper as I watched.

I swung the trainer down again and treated her right buttock to an identical blow. This time, her response was an angry, muffled scream from the depths of the mattress.

When the initial shock receded, replaced by a relentless throbbing pain deep in her backside, the girl's yell turned into a throaty, plaintive wail, punctuated by gasps and helpless sobbing between each measured smack. She struggled and I had to pin her wrists under my knee and use my spare hand to push down on her shoulders, to keep her properly in place in order to continue her beating. I must have brought the trainer down a couple of dozen times on each side of her bum - I had no sense of time, nor did I want to stop, for I was transfixed by the way those two wonderful orbs of soft brown flesh had turned first red, then almost purple, under the stream of blows. The skin became puffy and dimpled and where I had concentrated my aim, the bruises were already forming.

Throughout my being, I had an exhilaration that dried my throat and swelled my cock: that I had such power to desecrate the purity of that gorgeous young body was such an overwhelming sensation that I had not noticed how she had gone limp and her writhing and screaming had subsided to a low moan. She had yielded to the pain and her own helplessness and her small body had grown floppy, bucking mechanically each time the trainer struck, absorbing the blow yet showing little further reaction.

"No, please..." was all she could splutter between sobs and the inevitable whack of trainer against skin,

Finally my mind registered the change in her demeanour - her total capitulation - and I stopped. My own lungs ached from holding my breath in excitement! I could almost feel the fiery heat of the raw red skin of her buttocks. I stood up and she remained slumped over the edge of the bed, and I watched her skinny body shudder as she continued to cry softly, self-pityingly.

Now I found myself breathing heavily, only partly from the exertion of swinging the trainer against her. The adrenalin was coursing through me. I became aware of my cock uncomfortably tight inside my trousers.

Lifting her legs by the ankles, I swung her around, so that she was now lying in the centre of my bed, her feet just proud of the end of mattress. I bent over and rolled her over on to her back. She moaned and her big, dark eyes flashed briefly from her tear-streaked face before she threw her arm across them and groaned miserably.

She had no fight left, and when I pulled her knees aside and bounced her legs wide akimbo, she made no effort to move. The chafing of the mattress against her agonised bottom sent her into another exhausted fit of sobbing and moaning. I ignored her, although the sounds of her distress were truly music to my ears. Where were such feelings coming from? Even now I can't fully believe the way in which I was getting my rocks off, watching and listening to this little girl in such misery, but the fact is I was loving every second, and when I knelt between her legs and felt the hot softness of her pubic mound on my fingertips, I thought I would cum there and then.

There was the merest hint of feathery down, pale and fine, fanning out over her belly from the top of her pubis, but her labia were perfectly smooth and hairless, and felt so tiny and vulnerable in my fingers as I eased them open and stroked the little flap over her clitoris. I pulled her wider open and ran the tip of my finger down the smooth pinkness to the tiny black opening and probed a few millimetres.

She winced and squealed in protest and her knees instinctively tried to close. She tried to sit up, but to my instant surprise (although I felt no shame at the time) I without thinking swung the flat of my palm hard against her cheek, sending her crashing back to the bed, where she remained, her hands pressed hard over her face, crying almost silently. She offered no more resistance.

"Don't move, you little thief!" I spat, "You tried to take my things, now it's my turn to take something of yours. See how you like it!"

And so I had free rein to explore her beautiful young cunny, to tease and tweak and prod and stroke and I salivated on my fingers and pushed aside the hood and massaged the miniscule white hardness of her clit, whilst the tip of my finger tormented and stretched the aperture of her vagina. There was resistance inside when I pushed deeper and I knew I had to fuck her right then,

Reparation for her crime.

It was only fair.

Her spirit was broken, overcome by the pain and defeated by the superiority of my size and strength. I have little doubt she knew full well that I was about to rape her, but she seemed to accept the inevitable with silent resignation.

For a moment, her eyes flickered as she stole a glance at me, perhaps curious why I had got off the bed, but as soon as she saw my own nakedness and the incredible crimson hardness of my eager cock, advancing upon her, she threw her head to the side and pulled her arms hard across her face.

I toyed with her cunt for a couple of minutes, ensuring my saliva had made her wet, then I pushed my knees under her thighs, lifting her crotch upwards and I lowered my rock-hard cock to the tiny little hole and pushed as I leaned forward over her.

Fuck, she seemed so unbelievably small! But now entirely compliant. Yes, she grunted and moaned and even thrashed weakly about when I shoved hard and forced half my length into the reluctant tightness. I pulled out, applied some more saliva and entered her again. She stiffened and suppressed a yelp and suddenly it seemed as if the grip around the end of my cock relaxed and I fancied I felt a new hotness caressing the engorged bell end. I pushed and her body accepted more of me and after a few more uncomfortable moments, I was into a slow, steady rhythm, not fully buried inside her, but sufficiently so for the velvety grip and slickness to generate wave after wave of exquisite tingling, that eddied through me and made me close my eyes with the sheer pleasure of it all.

It was unbelievable - an experience I find it hard to describe, looking down and watching my penis forced up between the legs of this tiny, dark-skinned young girl. I had to pause and stroke those soft young breasts and run my fingers over the tiny, hard nipples. She seemed so small, her waist so tiny that she looked in danger of snapping in two, the outline of her stomach muscles clearly evident as her body flexed when I resumed my slow fucking, my hands so huge about her waist and hips when I pulled her body to towards me and held her tight as I fucked her.

No words were spoken. It was as if we had a mutual understanding - she was paying for her crime. Well, if that was how she reconciled it as I increased the pace, building up to my climax, then she was sadly mistaken - this was only the first part of the punishment I had in mind for her.

I wanted to look into her face when I came, so I leaned right over her, bearing my weight on my arms and holding her wrists into the mattress either side of her head, so that I could stop her turning away.

I shall never forget watching the tears trickle silently from those beautiful big brown eyes as I humped into her without mercy, each thrust producing a wonderfully rewarding fresh twist of pain to her lips, and as I ground hard against her pubis, my cock exploding and pumping my semen gratefully deep inside her, I smiled with hitherto unknown malice at the mask of deliciously agonised resignation that distorted her stunningly beautiful young face.

That she had been a virgin was patently obvious when the final twitches of satisfaction had been spent and the very last drops of semen had oozed warmly from the glowing tip of my cock, and I clambered off her.

Both our crotches were smeared bright red.

But still I felt no sense of remorse. Whatever dark feelings that had been dredged up from beyond my consciousness were still firmly in charge and there was still plenty more moral outrage to be avenged. Another shudder of anticipation pleased me. I looked down at the miserable girl, rolling on her side and slowly curling her bloodied legs up into her lap, and all I felt was excitement that I still had unfinished business with her.

The chill of the air conditioning on the wetness at my crotch prompted me to want to clean up before I had a further session with the unfortunate girl.

Such was the wanton thrill of dominating that tiny body and so deep was the seam of latent sadism into which I had tapped - I just had to have some more fun with her. Though I might attempt to justify it as retribution or punishment, I suspect that by now I was simply driven by the very basest of my desires. My mind raced.

On the chest of drawers was a reel of gaffer tape left over from my packing and I made short work of dragging her up the bed and binding her wrists tightly to the posts of the headboard. Miserably, meekly, she let me do whatever I wanted.

I checked my watch and decided I had plenty of time to nip down into the market to obtain a few extra toys for part two of her ordeal. Confident that she was secure, I dressed and was about to leave when I noticed her little panties on the bedside mat and I almost chuckled out loud when I held her jaw and stuffed them slowly into her mouth, placing a peace of tape over the lot to keep her from spitting them out.

"Make the most of the next few minutes, you dirty little cunt. Spend a little time thinking about what I have just done and then try to imagine what else I might be about to do to you. I've by no means finished with you yet. I'm going to make sure you regret the day you tried to steal from me."

I unlocked the bedroom door and stepped out, locking it again behind me. It was my good fortune that all internal doors in these prefabricated bungalows had mortise locks. But then this was a crazy day of mixed fortunes. Placing the key in my back pocket I went down the hall towards the front door.

And came face to face with another girl.

I couldn't believe it. The door was open - when I had booted it earlier, in my anger I hadn't bothered to check it was properly closed. And fuck me; another bloody kid had come in!

Even smaller this one, wearing tiny shorts and a grubby t-shirt and sandals, she was a reduced-size replica of the girl I had just raped so satisfyingly.

I gave her no time to react. Before she had the chance to turn and run, I had bundled her into the bathroom and pushed her into the far corner. But not before I had closed the front door securely.

"Who the Hell are you? Are you alone? Are there any more of you?"

I loomed over her and raised my hand as if to strike her.

She began to burble and I grabbed and shook her and spoke harshly and she froze in panic. I relaxed my grip a shade, then haltingly, in broken English, she eventually explained. I was relieved - in my haste to deal with the older girl, it had not crossed my mind that she might not have been acting alone. Christ! There might have been a gang out there. I was chastened. A small dose of rationality returned.

But my evil thoughts were undiminished. In my temporarily-deformed logic, I just accepted that with the arrival of the smaller girl, all I had was a minor added complication. No problem - she too simply demanded some of my instant justice.

My reward - twice the satisfaction? Bring it on!

The terrified little girl told me that there were just two of them and they were sisters. She had been outside, acting as lookout, whilst her older sister had crept into my bungalow, believing it was empty. They were street kids and had hoped that they might squat in the place. So trying to pinch my laptop was pure opportunism, I concluded, but that didn't diminish the imperative to teach the girl a lesson did it? And, as I glowered down with stage menace at the even tinier little creature cowering on my bathroom floor, my lust-driven logic judged her to be an accomplice to the crime, equally deserving of punishment.

Just as well I hadn't yet done my impromptu shopping, for I might now need extra things to deal with two thieves.

She was visibly shaking in fear. I ordered her to sit in the shower cubicle. I told her that I had captured her sister as she was trying to rob me, and that I was still deciding what I was going to do with the both of them. Summoning my greatest acting abilities, I tried to be some evil monster and warned her that I would be back in just a few minutes and that if she set foot outside the shower, I would chop off her sister's hands. She certainly believed me, for when I returned after my half-hour dash around the market, she was in exactly the same position in which I had left her. She hadn't even tried to slide open the shower door.

I had found corroboration of the girl's story when I returned from the market: half hidden in the bushes opposite my bungalow I had found a battered shopping trolley, stuffed with bags containing the girls' few worldly possessions. But this wasn't the time for compassion. They had wronged me and had yet to pay fully for their crime.

I wheeled the trolley out of sight and unlocked my door with renewed determination.

I was quite looking forward to bullying her. Yes, this was indeed a time of madness on my part.

"You are a very bad girl, aren't you?"

I crouched to be level with her. More tears welled up - her eyes were already puffy and red and I expect she had been crying all the time she had been locked in the bathroom. She nodded. I didn't expect any trouble from her.

"Your sister is a bad girl. She is a trespasser and a thief and she has received some of her punishment already. You helped her and so you are a bad girl and must be punished as well. Mustn't you?"

I pulled her firmly from the shower cubicle. Her hand was so small in mine.

She had the same huge, dark eyes as her sister and they looked back at me so pleadingly as she nodded. I would have put her at about ten-years-old, although I'm no expert. Certainly, when I had removed her t-shirt and pulled off her shorts (no pants), and made her stand with arms in the air and her feet apart, there was little evidence of puberty: an entirely flat chest and lovely smooth pussy, entirely devoid of hair. I slipped my hand between her legs and curled my fingers firmly over the prominent mound, letting my knuckle slip and wriggle between the delicate fleshiness of her labia.

"That's good. Do exactly what I want and maybe your punishment will not be so harsh."

Her lips quivered and she burst into tears the when she nodded to my next question. For I was holding a nice new fly whisk before her face and had asked her, "But bad little girls still have to be punished. Some very bad little girls deserve to be whipped, don't they?"

Her skin was a subtle shade paler than her sister's and glistened with the cold sweat of fear. I pulled from my shopping bag the reel of thin nylon rope that I found on the market and she obediently held her wrists out for me to fasten a length securely to each. It was such a jolly colour too - bright pink; so very appropriate for binding little girls, don't you think?

Only then did she lose composure, falling to her knees and clutching at my leg and begging me for forgiveness in her native language. I hauled her to her feed and slapped the side of her buttock, which shocked her into silence.

"Be quiet. Say any more and I shall double your punishment!"

That was enough.

She hardly grunted when I pulled the cord so hard that it almost lifted her off her feet. I had wound it around the top rung of the towel rail and she staggered closer to the bathroom wall, stretched fully up on her toes, facing into the room.

So that I could whip her chest. And maybe her cunt. She danced about and squealed like a pig each time the fine leather strands of the whisk lashed the area around her nipples. I didn't have to hit her very hard, for the wickedly supple lengths, thinner than shoelaces, curled and bit into the smooth, stretched flesh, stinging and reddening the skin. When they snapped right on to the nipple, she gave out a distinctive shriek that seemed to evoke both terror and pain, that inspired me to try again and again to hit the same spot, hoping to reproduce the result.

It was hot work, so I stripped off and she stared with teary fascination and horror at my super-rigid cock, still bloodied from her sister, for I hadn't actually cleaned up as I had first intended.

And that gave me the idea.

As I stood right against her and stroked her burning little tits and rolled her screaming nipples between my finger and thumb, I whispered in her ear.

"You see my cock?"

She seemed not to understand, so I pointed to my groin and repeated the question. Through her pain and terror, she gave a tiny nod. I reached up and untied the cord as I continued.

"That is your sister's blood. I fucked her earlier. My cock must be made clean. Use your mouth and your tongue to make it clean."

I wiggled my own tongue to help her understand. But she knew enough English to be utterly horrified. Yet when I guided her on to her knees and placed the end of my knob at her lips, she paused only momentarily before I felt the gossamer touch of her tongue: terror prevailed.

Yet no sooner had she closed her trembling lips deliciously around my penis than she suddenly leapt away from me and threw her head over the bath, retching noisily.

That spoilt the moment - she would pay dearly for that later.

I left her to it and went for a shower, and when she had finished throwing up and was lying, panting and snuffling on the bathroom floor, I had the inspiration I needed. For she was stretched out and in profile, I was astounded quite how prominently her sweet little cunt jutted out,

"Oi!" I called, beckoning her to join me under the shower, where I washed her down. She was just too young to arouse me sexually, simply by dint of being naked with me. Whereas her sister's body was slim and athletic and immensely fuckable, and her budding tits were just begging to be felt and licked and nibbled, this girl was too small and her puppy fat made her too childlike, even for me in my moment of lunacy. I left her in the shower whilst I dried myself, then led her out, dripping, by the soggy cords still attached to her wrists.

My big idea worked a treat.

With a little encouragement, she was soon bent completely backwards over the heavy hardwood footstool in the lounge, her wrists tied nice and tight to her ankles, her head thrown back and her gorgeous little pussy thrust way up into the air. From the side, her labia protruded a good inch above her hips, exactly as I had hoped. I returned to the bathroom to collect my bag of goodies.

I took my time, fetching a glass of water from the kitchenette and sitting beside her as I sipped it. Eventually her curiosity overcame her and she turned uncomfortably to look at me and the look of panic that flashed across her face when she saw the cane I was tapping idly against my thigh was utterly fabulous, more than enough to encourage my flaccid dick to begin to harden. I smiled at her and reached across to stroke the tip of the bamboo gently across her unprotected little mound.

She cried out in fear, knowing exactly what I was promising and beseeching me not to do it. Which was music to my ears. The more she struggled and begged, the greater would be my pleasure.

I put down my glass and took up a steady position, so that I could aim the first stroke precisely, perpendicular to her cleft, right across the highest, fleshiest portion of her cunt's lips.

How she screamed! It was by no means a hard blow, but the thin cane landed precisely where I had intended, and judging by her reaction, the pain must have been excruciating. She was still panting and groaning a full minute later. When I landed the second blow, almost on the same spot.

That's when she peed herself.

A shaky stream of piss arced from between her legs. I watched in amazement. She was still yelping and bucking and she managed to get her urine all over her legs and the stool.

"Dirty little bitch," I commented and hit her twice in quick succession, the first lower down, just below where the last of her wee was trickling out, and then high, right over her clit, at which her screams hit a new high. I let the volume subside and hit her once more, then repeated the process three or four more times, patiently waiting as she gulped for breath and tossed her head from side to side, until she calmed and glanced anxiously at me. Her suffering, and her total horror each time she saw me poised to bring down the cane again, was a whole new thrill. Her agony was of no concern to me.

Once more, the rush from beating the defenceless girl brought an even greater hardness between my legs.

If I needed sexual relief, then it was again time to attend to my other young reprobate. I returned to the bedroom, leaving the small girl whimpering in her own piss.

Her sister's legs were drawn up to her chest, exposing her ravaged young cunt, the inner labia red and swollen, a telltale trickle of white cum glistening where it had seeped from her vagina down between her buttocks, covering the dark, puckered rose of her anus.

I swallowed hard. Such provocation, such temptation.

She had actually not bled that much when I tore her hymen, but the subsequent pounding I had given her had spread the small amount of blood all about her crotch and the effect was quite distasteful. I cut the tape at her wrists. She had clearly been struggling a lot in my absence for it had tightened into thin plaits that had bitten into her skin and left angry red marks.

Though released, she lay still, unable to think for herself, terrified of the huge foreigner who stood over her, his aching cock jutting provocatively out before him.

I took her hand and pulled her into the bathroom. We stepped over the laptop case on the hall floor - I no longer cared about it - this was infinitely more fun.

In a tiny voice, unable to look me in the eye, she asked to use the lavatory but instead I ordered her to squat in the shower and empty her bladder in my full view, whilst I doused her with icy water. I really find nothing erotic in basic bodily functions but I knew it was important to take any opportunity to remind her of her subservience, to strip away any possible shreds of self-respect. Plus I didn't want her to repeat her sister's 'accident' - ever practical, me! I made her take a quick normal shower whilst I unpacked more of my purchases, secretly relieved as the traces of blood washed from her thighs.

I had done well at the market, given that I had simply dashed from stall to stall, buying on impulse. For her throat, I had bought a proper dog's collar and lead, the free end of which came in handy to deliver instant stings whenever she failed to obey me instantly. More adhoc psychology, but it did add nicely to her sense of helplessness. And she looked fabulous with it on. More so when down on all fours and crawling like a dog.

I allowed her to dry herself on my towel and could not help but smirk when she dabbed so gingerly at the tender skin of her behind, still rather swollen and shaded in every hue of bruising. I was a little impressed that a few dozen slaps from a training shoe could have done all that.

Now this was going to be very interesting: the sisters reunited, to suffer together.

I desperately wanted to cum - my balls were throbbing, and I was very aware that the older girl had so far got off quite lightly compared to her sister, whose flat little tits were covered in a spider's web tattoo of welts from the fly whisk and as for her poor little cunt...

There was no time for anything fancy - she simply had to be fucked again. Without mercy.

The girls were allowed a few moments to share their shock and relief at seeing each other, to wail together in combined misery. The older girl forgot herself and scampered across the living room floor to hug her little sister, who wriggled pathetically across the stool, as much as the ropes would allow. Touchingly, the older one stroked the tears from her cheek and murmured some words of reassurance before the sting of the leash across her tender arse snapped her back into reality and released a shriek of pain.

Roughly, I tugged her away, wrenching at her collar and causing her to subside into a coughing fit on the floor beside her sister.

I used the moment to fetch a washing up bowl of water and some dish cloths and set them down next to the girls.

"Clean her up," I ordered.

I smoked a well-deserved cigarette, watching the snivelling girl rinse away the pee from her little sister's legs and mop the floor beneath her.

Her cunt beckoned me from between her skinny brown legs, as she bent over to finish her task.

Retrieving the bamboo cane, I knelt down next to the girls. I lay the cane across the smaller girl's cunt, over the ugly criss-cross of crimson welts that had swollen on her labia.

I looked square at the twelve-year-old. I chose to speak in their language.

"Shall I use the stick again? Or would you rather I fuck you?"

The girl looked aghast. Her lip trembled.

"Well?" I prompted her sternly, tapping the cane a little, which of course made the little one moan in discomfort and fear.

"Say it, girl!" I raised my voice. "Beg me to fuck you instead."

She closed her beautiful big, wet eyes and burbled incomprehensively.

"What?"

I snapped the end of the lead hard across the back of her thighs.

"What did you say, girl?"

"P p p-lease... fuck.. me."

"Again. Louder!"

"Please fuck me!" she blurted, subsiding into yet another miserable fit of crying.

I so wanted it, there was no time to lose. Snatching the seat cushions from the sofa, I pushed the girl aside and laid them on the floor in front of her sister's feet. Then I manhandled her on to them, until she knelt facing the little girl. I pushed her head down until her face was almost touching her sister's tortured little pussy.

"Kiss her better. Go on - lick her poor, sore little cunt and make it better."

I shoved the girl's face down between the small legs spread either side of her face.

"Lick, damn you or I'll whip both your cunts till you bleed!"

My words surprised even me. It was as if they were being spoken by someone else.

But as the older girl snuffled and dipped her tongue obediently on to her sister's raw cunny, and her own pussy presented itself in the air, it didn't matter a toss. I grabbed the tube of jelly from my obliging shopping bag and proceeded to apply a copious layer where it mattered. I knelt behind her, and looking down on the truly awesome spectacle of the skinny little girl's head dipping and twisting as she licked at her baby sister's gaping twat, I gripped her hips and drove my bursting hard cock into the tiny wet hole twinkling between her tender, reddened thighs.

It was never going to take long and she was unable to keep her face in the right place once I had found my stride. Her waist felt so small and she bucked and grunted with each and every stroke.

To lead up to orgasm, I settled back on my ankles, lifting her upright, my hands now reaching around her, kneading her lovely little tits and pushing her bodily down on the base of my penis. It seemed incredible that my whole cock was buried so deep up inside that scrawny little body, which gripped so tight and wet yet yielded to my frantic thrusting.

As I came to a much needed and very explosive climax, I held her tight against my chest and at the moment my cock sent its first pulse high up inside her, I smiled at the awestruck, horrified expression on the smaller girl's face as she craned her neck to watch, yet not watch, her sister's helplessness, impaled so savagely on my relentless cock. I kept eye contact, pulling the older girl hard down on me, holding her there until I was fully spent, then I lifted her off, letting her sprawl, exhausted, panting, across her sister's body, and I sat back on the cushions, elated, enjoying the echoes of pleasure in my crotch and observing with enormous satisfaction the tiny trickles of semen dribbling from the wet dilation of her cunt as it spasmed and twitched while she lay there.

---

It was dark outside now.

I had closed all the blinds and double-checked the doors and windows. All nice and secure. I put down my plate and slugged the last of my Coke from the can. There was food and drink for the girls in the kitchenette. For later, because they were a tad busy right now. Tied up.

Tied to my bed, to be precise. Side by side, on their backs, with their legs hauled up over their heads and roped to the top of the headboard. A pillow under their lower backs, so as to lift their bottoms conveniently off the mattress. Which made it so much easier to cane them there, and on the backs of their legs: the haphazard little red lines smouldering across their dusky skin evidenced such convenience so effectively.

I had given them a little light caning, just a few strokes each, on and off, for the past hour, after I had returned from a second trip into town. This time I knew exactly which sleazy shop to visit, down a narrow alley, two streets beyond the market. I was not disappointed with their stock. Nor with the pharmacy next door.

Whilst I made my phone calls, I had needed the girls to be quiet. To stop that incessant tearful moaning or the screaming when I had clipped their nipples or slipped the little dildos, coated with Pak Fah Yeoh embrocation, slowly and deliberately into each girl's reluctant anus. Smelly but so very effective, the strong liniment would irritate and burn the delicate tissue of their rectums for several hours.

So now they sported matching ball gags.

Just temporarily, for their little squeals and moans were such an important part of it all.

Laid neatly out on the dresser, like instruments awaiting a surgeon, were the results of my trips into town. I rang off and switched the mobile to silent, setting it down beside the assorted paraphernalia. I trailed my hand across the other items appreciatively, watching the feeble wriggling of my pair of bad girls and picturing delights yet to come.

Such bad little girls. I hoped that their punishment would dissuade them from recidivism. I simply had to make it thorough enough.

But at least I now could make a good job of it. A thorough job, worthy of a good engineer.

As a seasoned world traveller, I would ordinarily have been somewhat cross with Lufthansa, but for once, I greeted the news with resigned acceptance. OK, it didn't matter that they couldn't find me a replacement seat for 48 hours.

Never mind. I was sure I could find something to keep me occupied until then.