THROUGH THE ROUND WINDOW

BY LOWLIFE
lowlife_@fastmail.fm

Look up. Look up here. Please.

Oh why won't you look up?

Don't go. Why can't you look in my direction? See me here? Tied up like this?

Oh please!!

I always see people walking by down there - why doesn't anyone ever see me? Nobody knows I'm here. I don't even know where “here” is; where I am. All I know is that I don't want to be here. I want to go home. To Mutti and Vati and my horrible brother and my warm, cosy pink bedroom and my computer and I want to see my mates and listen to my iPod. I don't want to be here.

I want to go home. Please.

Here comes someone else. Look up - I'm here!

I'm trying to make a noise but that horrid big ball thing in my mouth makes it impossible. All I can do is squeak a bit and there's no way anyone outside could hear me. And if I try too hard it just makes my throat even more sore. I'm always so thirsty.

Please look up here. I'm trying as hard as I can to wriggle and move. Even though it really hurts now. I've been tied up like this for... I've no idea but it must have been hours. I don't know about time - I can see it's still daylight outside but I don't know what day it is. For a while I kept a secret record - I scratched a little mark on the wall behind the mattress every day but then the man found the marks and he tied me up to the pole in the big room and used that nasty whip thing on me.

It hurt sooo much!

He took all day and I think all night. Hit me all over, up and down my arms and legs and all over my body. A few hits and then he would leave me and I cried and it hurt and then he would come back and do it again. For hours and hours. I couldn't stand up the next day.

I hate that whip. It was bad enough when he kept hitting me with the bamboo cane at the beginning but now he uses the whip most of the time. It hurts much more. Those leather thong things curl around my legs and sometimes they hit me right between my legs and it really stings.

But the more I scream the more he hits me. He told me right at the beginning that he enjoyed hurting girls and that's why he had kidnapped me. He is very nasty.

Why me? Why did he pick me? I'm only eleven.

He shouldn't do those things to me. It isn't right. I hadn't done anything wrong. I didn't even know him. Why me? All I was doing was taking a shortcut home from school. I can't even remember properly what happened - one minute I was in the underpass, the next I was in the smelly boot of a car and there was tape around my hands and legs and over my face. It really hurt when he ripped it off.

What happened to my bike? Vati will be angry - it cost a fortune.

The man promised he wouldn't hurt me but then he did. All the time. I don't believe what he says.

He's a pig - he always hurts me and I don't know why.

I'm not going to cry again because he likes it when I cry. I hate it when he puts his face up close and licks the tears off my cheeks. It's disgusting.

He could see I was scared but he kept me tied up to that pole for hours. He kept saying scary things and touching me and he just laughed when I begged him to let me go. He said no-one would ever find me here, that even if they searched for ever, they wouldn't think to look here. I think it might be an old shop, because the people down in the street look like they're doing their shopping. But I don't know where I am. I don't even know if this is my town. It can't be very far from home because the number plates on the cars are the same. I've never seen anybody I know.

Why doesn't anyone ever look up and see me in the window? I can see them all right.

He thinks it is funny. Sometimes he ties me over the radiator in front of the window and stands behind me and sticks his thing inside. I can see people out there, going past, and nobody knows what he is doing to me. If they would only look up at my window, they'd see. See him thumping against me, squeezing my boobies and twisting my poor nipples and pulling my hair as he does it to me.

It's disgusting, what he does. I feel so dirty all the time.

And the radiator hurts my tummy and the fronts of my legs.

My legs ache so much. He leaves me like this most days. When he isn't here. Tied up tight on this table, lying on my front with my feet bent right back behind my waist and my hands pulled behind me and tied up with my ankles. He puts a big cushion thing under my tummy but my shoulders hurt and my legs have gone all numb. I try to wiggle my fingers and toes, because if I don't, I get pins and needles or like the other day, cramp in my calves. That was agony. I did cry that time and he came back and found me and watched me when the cramp came back and just smiled and rubbed between my legs and licked my face as I cried. The cramp hurt so bad. I wanted to stretch my legs straight but he kept me tied up and pinched my private place and pulled me about and I was hurting but he laughed and just went on doing it.

He says he likes it when my private place gets all wet. It's so disgusting. It just happens sometimes - I don't make it happen. I don't want him putting his fingers and things inside me.

I hate him.

He is always so nasty. And I just don't know why. Why is he doing this to me? He says he won't kill me, but I don't trust him. He says if I do what he wants, he'll let me go later. But how long? How much longer is he going to do this to me? I'm tired and cold and I want to go home.

At first, I tried to be nice to him and hoped he would let me go.

I did all the disgusting things he told me to do. But he still tied me up and hit me with the cane and then he started putting his finger in my private place and in my bottom and when I asked him to stop, he got so cross. Slapped me a lot and tied me up with rope and stuff.

It hurt a lot at first, but now when he puts his horrible big thing in me, it doesn't hurt so much, though it still feels huge in my tummy. He's done it so many times now, I've lost count. I don't like it, but it doesn't hurt bad most of the time. I just close my eyes and hope it will be quick. I wait until I can feel his sticky stuff, all warm, and then I know it's nearly over. It was a lot worse the first few times. He was very rough and even when I told him how much he was hurting me, he kept on pushing it in and out and pulling me closer to him until I thought his thing was going to make my tummy burst.

I’m only small - he shouldn’t do that to me.

Sometimes he puts his thing in my mouth and I have to lick it and suck it. I really hate that. I have to smile when I do it, he says.

He says I'm a dirty little Schwanzlutscher. I'm not - he makes me suck it!

I did try to stop him; I did, I did!!

He says I begged him to do it to me. I didn't, I swear! Only because he said he'd cut my face if I didn't take off my clothes and ask him to, to... He made me say the 'f' word.

I’m a good girl. I’d never…

But he tied my hands to my legs and pushed my legs apart and then he lay down on top of me. On the bed in the big room. I couldn't stop him. He just kept on saying horrible things about what he was going to do to me. I was so scared, Mutti. He made me bleed, from my private place. Afterwards he tied me up to that pole, with my hands above my head, and sat there and watched as the stuff and the blood came out and ran down my legs. I needed a wee but he wouldn't listen and I had to go. It was dead gross - weeing down my legs. And it made him shout at me and he turned me round and kept hitting my bottom with the cane and I couldn't stop him because of the pole and even though I was screaming he did it more and more. Then his thing got big all over again and he said unless I put it in my mouth again, he'd keep on hitting me, on my front too, so I did it.

Oh, Mutti, it was horrible! But I swear I didn’t ask him - he made me do it.

I’m not a dirty girl.

He says he likes to look at me with his thing in my mouth. Geiler Wicht!

Now I have to do it whenever he snaps his fingers. That's what it means: he snaps his fingers and I have to kneel down with my mouth wide open, holding my tongue nice and flat so he can put his knob on it.

He taught me how to do that right at the very beginning. Straight after he had made me take my clothes off and ran his clammy fat hands all over me: he made me kneel down and lick it. It felt gross, having that great big hot thing filling my mouth. It's disgusting. It took me ages to realise what I had to do and now I do it as fast as I can, to get it over with. I can tell when his stuff is about to come out and I hold my breath and get ready and then as soon as it squirts, I can swallow it without having to taste it. There's always more though and sometimes he makes me just suck the end slowly and lick the stuff off a bit at a time. It makes me feel dirty and I want to brush my teeth. But he doesn't usually let me do that until he's ready to leave in the morning.

Hey you! Girl with the blue jacket like Frau Weber next door! Look up here.

Here! Please.

Oh up yours then! You only had to look up, you stupid woman.

Why the heck am I thinking all this? I don't want to think about it but I need to tell someone. I once watched a programme on WDR about mind reading, with that English hypnotist man, Derren something, and some people say that if you think in a special way, other people can understand it. 'ESP' it was called, I think, though I don't know what that stands for. I don't think I believe it, but it is worth trying isn't it? Just in case? Maybe one of you down there will hear my thoughts?

Why can't you hear my thoughts, mister? Or you, woman with the baby buggy? I'm up here, behind this round window. Look up and you'll see me. You can't miss me - I'm the little girl with no clothes on and something strapped in my mouth and rope around my wrists and ankles. You can't miss me.

Please, someone - look up.

He'll be back soon. I wish he would never come back.

Or do I?

But how would anybody find me? I'd be stuck here, tied up. I'd starve. He brings me things to eat and drink.

I need to go. I knew I shouldn't have drunk all the water in my bottle before he tied me up this morning. But I'm so thirsty. My throat always hurts. I think it is because I cry a lot.

Oh God. I must have a Pinkel.

He'll be so angry if I wee myself. Must keep it in. Think of something else.

Oh shit - I can't!

Last time was so bad, when he got angry at me for weeing. I don't want that again. I kept telling him I was sorry and I cleaned it all up properly but he still tied me over that bench thing with my legs really wide apart. My back hurt so much, being pulled back like that. He had a horrible look in his eyes. I remember it was very dark outside. And windy. I was so frightened. He didn't put a gag on me: he said he wanted to hear me. He meant hear me scream. I don't think I've ever hurt so much. And it just went on and on. I just wanted to faint but he wouldn't let me. He'd do something like push those needles into my boobies and then stand there, rubbing his thing as I screamed.

Oh God, it was awful.

Then, whenever I had got my breath back, he'd do something different, like putting those metal clips on my Scham and pulling it open. He wouldn't stop, even though he could see how much I hurt. He had that jiggly thing - the electric jiggly thing that looks a bit like Mutti's toothbrush, except it has a sort of rubber Pimmel-shaped bit - and kept pushing it into my private place and my bum. And then he'd pull it out quickly and push those ice lollies inside. He went out and bought them specially. It was agony! And he made me suck the lollies. And his thing. It just wouldn't stop.

Orange.

And strawberry. I used to like strawberry lollies.

My throat killed, and my eyes hurt from all the crying. He kept wiggling the needles in my boobies and it hurt more and when he pulled them out, he rubbed some smelly cream stuff over them and it stung like Hell and my skin felt like it was on fire.

He made me kiss him while he did it - tongues and all. Igitt! I hate kissing him. At least I could keep my eyes shut then.

Whenever he went away to get a drink or something, I tried to go to sleep. I shut my eyes and tried to pretend I was somewhere else. But he whipped me awake. All over the front of my body, up and down my legs, on my boobies and then he stood between my knees and flicked it down on to my Scham, trying to hit my poor Kitzler.

It was so unfair - all I'd done was wee myself.

I couldn't cry any more. I just lay there, not even bothering to pull on the ropes any more. Again and again I could feel the whip stinging and I couldn't do anything. Just whisper 'Thank you' each time, like I have to. Then he laughed and I could see him putting a Gummi on his thing - he never does that, so I knew he was going to do something nasty. He put more of the smelly cream on the rubber and started rubbing it on my Scham and pushing his fingers in my bum.

I thought I was going to die.

All my skin burned. My bum was on fire and I was scared I might do a poo. But it was a lot worse as soon as he put his thing inside my private place. I screamed and screamed, until he pushed it all the way up me and then bent over and kissed me while he fucked me. Oh God - I used the 'f' word again. See what he has done - I use his words now? Lots of bad, dirty words.

I was shaking with the pain. Usually he does... he fucks me quickly - he likes to ram his thing hard up inside so that it hurts me right up there at the top, right inside my tummy, but that time, he made it go on for ever, letting his thing come right out and then slowly sliding it in me, all the way, so that I had to keep trying to push myself up, or else it hurt too much. Every time he pushed it in, my Scham felt like it was being split open. I had to keep my eyes open or else he would hit me - he looked so evil. He kept kissing me and calling me all those nasty names.

No, I'm not going to cry. That's what he would want.

It's not fair. I've always been a good girl. I'm not any of those things he calls me. Why does he want to hurt me all the time?

Hey! You lot! I'm up here. Stop fucking about with your Handys and look at me! See me and help me! I'm more important than some bloody text message!

Please. Don't just go away,

Too late.

I think it might be Friday. This is the fifth day since he was here all day. With that video camera.

God, that was weird. He's never had any sort of camera before.

Made me dress up in those clothes and he took loads of pictures. I didn't mind: it made a change. Some of it was fun! In the morning, there were those funny foreign clothes that looked a bit like the sort of uniform Mutti wore when she was at school. I hope I didn't look as funny as she did!

Actually, I didn't mind that bit too much - it was nice to wear clothes for once. How long have I been locked up here? It was funny, wearing pants again. They were very small and tight. Glad I didn't have to keep them on too long! Stupid man must have bought the wrong size! It was nice spending a long time in the bath afterwards though. He didn't seem to mind. I still don't know what camel's feet have to do with anything.

He says some weird things.

I suppose that could have been the very first time I've ever been in the big room and he hasn't made me cry. In all this time. He was in a strange mood, wasn't he? Quite nice most of the time, provided I was doing what he wanted. I think I might like to be an actress when I grow up. He seemed pleased with what I did.

Wasn't that difficult really: just leaning around that desk, pretending to be in a lesson at school, then taking some clothes off when he said. And being 'sexy'. Touching myself, which was a bit disgusting.

I don't think I like that part. But I didn't dare say so. I would hate to think that anyone else would see me with no clothes on. God, I hope he doesn't show the video to anybody.

Funny that he wanted to make a video though: he's never done that before. What I'm really worried about is that he said there were some men he knew, who wanted to see me. That's disgusting. They must be pervs: I don’t think men really want to see young girls like me. I mean, why? Then he said it might be fun, letting them come here to play with me. I don't know exactly what he meant but I don't think I want them too. What if they are like him, and want to hurt me and do dirty things?

I'm scared, in case that's what he meant. But maybe they would tell the police about him? And the police would rescue me? I wish I knew.

I don't want to think about that any more. Other nasty men? No - that would be very bad.

Anyway, why would they want to be nasty too? They wouldn't know me or anything would they? Think of something else.

But he’s nasty to me and he didn’t know me. I really don’t understand.

I still need a wee.

No!! Something else!

Look! There's that big dog again, down there, by the trash can. I see him most days. Oh look - he's managed to climb up and pull that bag out. Go on, doggy! Yes! He's found some food. Poor thing was hungry. He must be a stray.

He's seen the doggy too. The other evening. Over my shoulder, the last time he bent me over the radiator...

Oh, it was disgusting, what he said. That he ought to fetch the dog up here and see if he could train it to… fuck me. Oh God, what a terrible thing to say! Then he leaned down and kept whispering in my ear, describing what it would be like, with the doggy licking my face and scratching my back with its claws. He said dogs have funny shaped thingies that swell up inside... No! That's revolting! I don't want to remember what he said.

I can't remember nice things any more.

I want to be at home. Don't care about my stinky brother being horrid to me - I just want to be home. Mutti, why haven't you come for me?

Ooooh - the backs of my legs really hurt. He's tied me specially tight today. It's worst at the top of my legs, where he used the cane yesterday.

He has been acting strange all this week, since he brought the camera.

What about last night? Stockings! He said he'd forgotten to get me to wear them for the first video, so we went into the big room and I had to put them on and roll around on the bed with my legs apart while he recorded it. I had to take them off slowly: three times! Very strange. They were nice - pretty black ones. Then he said he wanted to cane me for the camera and he made me put them back on again and bend over for ages, while he messed about with the tape. I don't believe he had really forgotten to press record, like he said - I think he just wanted to make me cry all over again and that's why he caned me on the tops of my legs twice. I'd almost forgotten how horrible that cane was. I felt the back of my legs this morning; they're covered in swollen lines.

I hate him.

I'd never worn stockings before. Tights and socks of course, but never proper grown-up stockings. Or those funny suspender things. They were really fiddly to do up. I think they looked weird, but he said the men would like it. Why? Why would men like to look at a young girl wearing stockings? Surely men like pretty pop stars and models? I don't understand it. But then, there's so much I don't understand.

And I don't want any pervy men to see me in any stinky video.

Will he ever let me go?

Still, he hasn't hit me much this week, apart from that. I don't know what he's up to.

But I don't think anything I say or do will make much difference.

Being super-good didn't work and then that time when I tried the opposite, to refuse to do what he said, he really flipped. I won't try that again. God, I thought he was going to kill me.

Oh. The dog's gone. It's getting dark. Not many people around now.

Bye-bye, doggy. See you tomorrow.

Nobody looking up to my window.

He'll be here soon. I hope he'll let me use the bucket straight away.

Think of something else!

I'm very hungry, because he didn't bring me any proper food last night. Too busy with that horrible camera. Just the dog food. I was lucky I wasn't really sick or he'd have gone mental. It wasn't really dog food in that bowl, he said, but it was a real dog bowl and he made me eat from it, with my hands tied behind my back. It was cold meat and it smelt foul. He showed me that bit on the camera. I didn't think it was funny: I think it was cruel and horrid. I had the gravy all over my face. And I had to wear that stupid big leather collar again, the one with the metal studs, and those leather strap things on my arms and legs. Not my little night-time collar. I don’t mind that. Then he kept taking close-ups of my bottom, which was disgusting. I don't want anyone to see that video.

He said I made a good bitch. I don't like to be called a bitch. My name is Kristin. He has never called me Kristin. He knows it's my name, but he doesn't call me anything. Sometimes Schlampe or Fotze or words like that. Mostly though, he just shouts or points or uses his 'special signals'. Snaps his fingers for me to kneel and lick his thing; when he whistles, I have to scamper across the floor on all fours. 'Sit', 'beg'. He does treat me like a dog. Yes, he really does.

Like I have to sleep in that basket. It's a dog's basket, isn't it? We don't have a dog at home, but now I think about it, that's exactly what it is. Tante Ursula has one in her kitchen.

Tante Ursula has a cute little terrier - Fritz - and he has a nice little tartan collar. My night-time collar is boring old black.

That's so horrid, though - making me sleep in a dog basket. I wouldn’t mind too much if I could sleep in the bed in the big room, even if it meant being next to him.

Why is he so cruel to me?

Why can't I go home?

There's a policeman down there. Hey! Up here, mister! No. There he goes. Why haven't the police been looking for me? I've been missing for a long time. Weeks and weeks, I'm sure.

Ooow. My knees hurt. And my shoulders. It wouldn't be so bad if I could go to sleep when I’m stuck here, but if I did, my head would fall forward and then the chain would get tight and I'm frightened it might strangle me. He calls it a 'choke chain'. I have to wear it when he's not around, and he fixes the other end to various places, so I can’t move around. During the day, it's fastened to that curtain rail above my window. I could shut my eyes I suppose, but if I still have to keep my head up for hours, at least it's more interesting, looking out the window.

This is sooo boring!

It’s not a very busy street. Always people during the day but not so many in the evening. I’m glad I have my window.

Except nobody ever looks up at me.

Oh whoops! I nearly forgot what I was doing then; nearly started to wee.

Think of something else, think of something else!

I can't even squeeze my legs together, tied like this. Just push down on to that cushion thing and hope the feeling goes away. I don't want him to come, but then again, I need him to come soon, so I can use the bucket.

He wouldn't really bring other men would he?

Trouble is, just about everything he's said he's going to do, he eventually has done. He teases me for a while perhaps, gets me worried or scared, so I imagine all kinds of nasty things, but he does do what he says. Unfortunately. Like the 'ennimah' thing. That's what he called it. Ugh, that really was disgusting. And my bum hurt for days afterwards. It's too small for a man's Schwanz to fit in it, so why did he do that? Absolutely gross. I'm glad he doesn't do it to me much any more; I really, really don't like it.

And then there was that box of spiders...

No I'm not going there. Change the subject.

Come on, come on. I'm going to burst soon.

I hope he's in a good mood tonight. I hate it when he's really grumpy. That's when he hits me extra hard. For no good reason. I try to stay out of the way, but if I'm chained or tied up, I can't get out of the way, can I?

If I'm lucky, I'll get away with a blow job tonight; I don't even have to think about it any more. But he hasn't whipped me for three nights. Not tied to the pole. That new one he got last week is much worse than the old one. And I think he hits me harder with it. I try to make it sound really bad though, screaming and begging, and I don't think he can tell I'm putting some of it on. It still stings and hurts, but if I put on a bit of a show, he seems to get worked up quicker and then he wants to fuck me instead, which is disgusting, sure, but doesn't hurt anyway near as much.

I’m sorry, Mutti.

Perhaps that's all I'm good for - to be fucked and whipped?

Stop that, Kristin! Don't ever think like that, you idiot!

Rice pudding. That's what I'd like.

I hope he brings me rice pudding. I was a good girl about the video; did everything he wanted, so I deserve a reward. Even that really disgusting bit when he said I had to masturbate and make it look good. It was awful, doing that in front of a camera, because I’m not a dirty girl.

Sometimes when he says I've been a good girl, he lets me have a chocolate drop.

I hide it under my tongue and make it last ages before it melts. It's a secret but I know how to get a lot more chocolate drops. He doesn't know.. I play a trick on him! It makes him very pleased and then gives me a whole handful. Know what I do? I pretend to have an 'organism'.

I know about those, because I read about them in a magazine Sophie brought to school last term. It said women often pretend to have organisms.

And I saw on those dirty DVDs he sometimes makes me watch, so I know what to do. When the woman or girl makes those noises at the same time as the man squirts his stuff from his thingy. That's what they call 'having an organism', isn't it? So I do it too. Not very loud or anything, but I close my eyes and make my mouth go like this, and make funny little grunting sounds. You have to make them get a little louder and a bit closer together and when he's nearly ready to squirt, you pretend you're short of breath and make a sort of groaning noise in the back of your throat. Tee hee. He doesn't know I do that. Ha! Kristin 1, Nasty Drecksack Man 0!

Except that's not the real score is it? He always wins. He is a total bastard.

And another thing he doesn't know.

Sometimes, at night, when he's gone, I do myself. At night, he thinks he's tied my hands so that I can't touch my Scham but if I pull back a bit when he does it, there's enough slack rope later for me to reach between my legs, if I curl up real tight. I do it nearly every night, before I go to sleep. It can be awkward but it's worth it, because when I rub my button it feels dead good and I even put my fingers in my private place and it feels so nice that I can forget where I am and forget that horrible man and for a little while, things are all right.

Ha ha!

Oh yeah - what about that time he left one of those little vibrating eggs on the floor by mistake and I was able to reach it in the dark and put it just inside me and I just lay there for hours and hours, rocking back and forwards in my basket and pushing down on my button with this thing buzzing away and I'm sure I had a proper grown-up 'organism'. My Scham got ever so warm and wet and it felt lovely and it just went on and on feeling nice. If I ever get out of here, I want to buy one of those jiggly eggs but I'm going to keep it secret in my bedroom.

So there - he doesn't control me all the time, does he? He can't stop me doing myself. When he’s not around Ha! Na na na na na!

He'll be here very soon. He usually comes soon after that streetlight turns on.

Hope he'll be quick. I need to pee and eat. I'll be especially good - crawl around and hang on to his leg, like he enjoys, and look up at him all affectionate. Whatever he wants, like a little puppy.

If he brings food.

I'd do anything for rice pudding. Or fries, like he brought last week, straight from the Imbiss stall. That was fantastic - fishcake and fries. Plenty of mayonnaise. I don't get hot food very often. I'd have preferred pizza; that's my favourite. I wouldn't even mind if he stuck his thing up my bum if he brought something nice like a Big Mac or some pizza.

What?

Did I think that?

What have I become? Thinking that I'd let him fuck my ass for pizza?

I am turning into a slag. I don't want to be a slag. I was a very good girl before he brought me here. Everyone said so.

I'm so hungry. I shouldn't think about food.

Bratwurst. The bastard brought wurst and fries another time. I never really liked bratwurst but now I never want to see one or smell one again.

He covered mine in mustard and shoved it in me. Made me lie on my back, with my legs wide open and pushed it in. It was hot and greasy and the Senf burned. He emptied the Fritten all over my tummy and I was only allowed to eat one at a time and then I had to nibble each fry four times and so it took ages. He watched me all the time, laughing. And then only when I had finished all the fries, did he let me pull out the bratwurst. He made me lick it first, like I have to lick his thing, and then I had to eat it all. Even though it had been up my private place and was still covered in mustard and sauce and stuff. I was nearly sick.

He doesn't bring me enough food. I'm always hungry. Some days all I get to eat is his horrible sticky stuff.

Oh I hate it when that happens: thinking of food has made me dribble down my chin.

I try not to dribble, but it's hard with this nasty ball in my mouth. Makes my chin sore. He goes spare if I get a spot.

It was worse when he was pissed off with me though, when I was being punished for ‘deliberate disobedience’.

I learned my lesson then and I won’t try that again. All those things he used were very scary. Like that horrid thing, he put in my mouth. Not a little plastic ball like this one, but like something you put in a horse's mouth. It made my mouth wide open all the time, and I mean wide. I couldn't swallow properly and my jaw went all numb and my mouth was dry and when he gave me some water I spilt it and nearly choked. Twice he gave me (I don't want to say those words)..., a face fuck. Makes me shiver. That was a nightmare. I thought I was going to die, with his great big thing shoved right in. He was holding my head and I could hardly breathe but wouldn't stop until he'd squirted his stuff all in my mouth and I was coughing and choking and gasping and every time I tried to breathe in, his stuff made me choke even more. So I tried to spit it out the first time and that made him so very angry.

That was a really bad time.

I won't be disobedient like that again. Ever.

I don't want to see those needles and clips and stuff again. Hours and hours he spent, making me scream and bleed and... Jeez, think of something else!

Be good, Kristin. Do what he wants.

Not long now. I'll hear him downstairs first, as usual. I've never been down there, so I don't know what he does first. I think this is the top floor, because the ceiling slopes in the bathroom at the back and there are only stairs down. I hear him on the stairs - two creaks, then the key in the door.

He always strokes my bum first. Always.

He doesn't say anything, just feels me up. Makes my skin have goosebumps. He likes it if I make little noises when he touches me between my legs. Sometimes he licks me there too, like he does after my bath. He says he likes to taste my 'sweet Puderdose', which I think is disgusting but really I don't mind too much when he does it - it doesn't feel too bad, even when he sticks his right tongue up me and his finger in my bum.

I really am a bad girl aren't I?

I don’t want to be licked tonight though. Just need that wee. Hopefully he’ll just take out the thing from my mouth and then iIf I'm lucky, he'll undo the ropes and the choke chain quickly and let me get off the table straight away. I hope so - I don't think I can last much longer without using the bucket.

Oh my God! I’m going to have to ask him. For permission to use the bucket I hope he's not in a bad mood: I'm not supposed to speak unless he asks me something am I? But I really, really need to go!

I'll be dead nice to him if he lets me wee, I promise.

Where is he? He's usually here by now.

Look at those boys down there, hanging around in the doorway opposite. I never see anyone go in and out of that door. Why can't they stop messing around and look up and see me? It's too dark now, anyway, even if they did. Stupid boys!

The doggy hasn't come back, either.

Every day I think someone might look up here. But no-one ever does. Maybe tomorrow.

He can't keep me here for ever can he? I’ve missed so much school already.

My knees hurt. I can't wait to straighten them. I'm not allowed to walk or stand up when he's here, but I can stretch my legs and arms as soon as I can get off this horrid table. Wonder what he'll do to me tonight? I hope he just fucks me and leaves the whip and stuff in the toy cupboard.

It's funny - apart from the video, he hasn't done anything very new for a while, has he? Not that I'm complaining. At first, everything was new. He wanted to try things out, on me, didn’t he, but now he has his favourites, so at least I know what to expect. And I usually know what he wants me to do and he doesn't get so cross at me all the time.

But he doesn't realise that I pretend sometimes! Must keep that a secret.

I haven't seen myself in a mirror since I got here. I can see a bit of a reflection in the window when the light is right, but I can't see very much. At first I was covered in bumps and bruises but I don't have many now. Just the sore bits from the cane yesterday.

I think I’ve lost weight though. In those stockings, they didn’t look like my legs. Too skinny.

The holes from the needles have healed up properly. I'm glad about that. My boobies stung for days, especially after he painted that smelly stuff on. I could hardly move; it felt like my sore bits were melting, they were so hot. He was so nasty then, when hung me by my arms from that big hook and watched me dancing around in agony, on the end of the chains. That was one of the worst times.

This week hasn’t been too bad. Don't get me wrong - I still want to go home of course - but in a funny way, I've got used to it here.

I don't understand why I'm here. I don't know why he does this to me.

But it doesn't worry me so much now. After all, there isn't much more he can do is there? He's made me do sex - all sorts of disgusting things - and he's made me hurt more than I could ever imagine. That's bad enough isn't it? I'm not a little girl any more am I? Apart from killing me, what else could he do? No, I just have to do what he wants and it'll be OK. Won't it?

See - I have it worked out. I have a plan.

Of sorts.

I won't let him scare me any more. And I'll only cry when I have to. I'll be his 'little pet' and his 'bitch slave' and whatever else he wants me to be. Names don't count, anyway. I won't resist and I'll be good and quiet and, er... subservient - that's the word he uses. Then maybe one day, he'll get bored and let me go. Back home. Oh please!

Yep. That's what I'm going to do.

Because none of you stupid people down there will ever look up at my fucking window and see me!! Durps! Come back here and look up you... Verdammt - they've gone!

I don't think anyone is looking for me now. Not now - it's been such a long time. I don't know that anybody was looking for me at the start. I bet Vati did. He would have called the police wouldn't he? He would have looked for me. Oh yes.

No crying! Be brave, Kristin!

Oh where is he? He's late.

My button’s aching too.

It's started raining. I hope that stray doggy has somewhere dry to go. Not many people about. When it rains, they all keep looking down or hide under their umbrellas. No chance of anyone looking up is there?

So what’s new?

Owwww! My legs are really aching. Where is the fucking man?

I never used to swear. Mutti would go mental if she could hear me. Sorry. It’s his fault.

Come on!! My bladder is really, really going to burst.

Think of something.

I wonder what he did with those clothes from the video? He must have taken them with him. Perhaps he keeps them downstairs. I suppose there's room in the toy cupboard. I hate that name. It's not full of proper toys, just horrible things to hurt me. Wish I could burn it!

The dress I wore in the afternoon was very pretty. Even if it did make me look like a silly little baby girl. It would be nice if he would let me wear it again. I wouldn't be greedy - I wouldn't have to wear anything else underneath if he didn't want me to - but it felt so nice being in a dress. It was a bit like my nightie at home: soft, white cotton, but more lacy. For just a few minutes I felt normal. Or I did until he put the handcuffs on and the gag and all the other stuff. Yes, it was lovely. Just for a while. When I was sitting there and he brushed my hair for me and let me plait it, before he started fiddling about with my tits and I had to suck his thing for the camera. It was nice to feel cotton between my legs and the chair. I wish I could wear a dress again. And those ribbons in my hair.

He’s probably had to wash it, because I let some of his spunk dribble out. Amazing that he didn’t seem to mind that time.

What happened to my own clothes, I wonder?

I'll need them when he lets me go, won't I? He said he burned them, so what will I wear? When it’s time to go home?

He's very dirty sometimes. He said he kept my panties and has them in his pocket when he goes to work and when he wants to think of me, he gets them out and sniffs them. That's really disgusting, isn't it?

I could wear that dress to go home in, if he lets me have it.

It's raining hard now. Mustn't listen to the rain dripping from that broken gutter. Press harder down on the cushion. Where is he?

I want to play with my button.

God! Did I really think that? Maybe I am a 'dirty little slut' like the Scheißkerl calls me. I could push down harder on the cushion like this and then wiggle from side to side just a bit. Mmm. Nice. He might be pleased if I'm wet when he gets here.

No!

What am I thinking? I'm getting as disgusting as he is.

He makes me sit on top sometimes now, I've just realised. Makes me do all the work. Maybe I am turning into a slut. It's nicer for me, because his thing doesn't go in so far. And I can rub my button on his thing if I lean forward enough. But I don't let him know that. He doesn't know I do that, to make it feel nice for me. He’d get mad at me.

Why am I thinking these terrible things? And why isn't he here yet? Normally by now he'd be doing something to me.

Is it wrong to enjoy it sometimes?

Shut up, Kristin! Never, ever think that!

The night before last, when he let me fall asleep next to him in the bed, that wasn't too bad. He gave me a nice hug and kissed me on my forehead when he carried me to my basket. That was nice, though.

And after my bath, when he licks my Scham! I always like that, don't I? I can shut my eyes and forget all the nasty stuff. When he pushes the flap away with his lips and tickles my button with the tip of his tongue…

Kristin! No!

Oh I want to touch myself. Damn these ropes!

Where is he?

It's dark out there, and rainy. Not much traffic. Is he coming tonight? He'd better - I still need a Pinkel and I'm starving hungry.

Ha! At long last.

He's here.

That was the door downstairs. Give it a minute, then the creaky stairs... yep, here he comes. Those stairs are getting worse - really creaky tonight.

Now the key in the lock. Aha! And any minute, I'll feel his hand on my bum and we can get on with it. Well come on then, man, or I really am going to piss myself?

Here he comes. Lie still.

Behind me now.

What the f..?

What's he doing? A blindfold? He hasn't done that for a couple of weeks. Heck - if he wants to mess about, I won't be able to get to the bucket in time. What is he up to? Where's he gone, the stupid man?

Oh do come on! Your slave needs a damn wee!

God in Heaven!! What the fucking Hell is that? On the inside of my leg. Cold and wet? Oh shit! That's a bloody animal, licking my Schwan. I can hear it slobbering; feel its horrid breath, all hot. Oh Jesus! Oh no!

"Hallo. How's my sweet little movie star? Had an interesting day, I hope, looking out of your window? Well, I've a treat for you: I've brought you a little friend to keep you company. It's that stray Labrador from downstairs. He's not so little in fact. Goodness me, he's rather keen to get to know you - look at that - tongue straight where it counts! He obviously likes the taste of you. I'm sure you'll be a good little bitch for him, won't you?"

"Ach, and you'll be pleased to know that the lads in my club really loved the video. So I've invited a few of them here, as they asked very nicely to meet you in person. We have all weekend ahead of us, so there'll be plenty of time for each of them to get to know you quite intimately. Show them your favourite toys maybe. You're going to be quite busy!"

"And do stop all that moaning and wriggling, bitch. Save your strength. You're certainly going to need all of it tonight."