NESSA'S PUPPY

BY LOWLIFE
lowlife_@fastmail.fm

[ part 2 ]

Though Nessa had been warned enough, she still cried out.

Stifled into the tangy mustiness of Viktor's stale sleeping bag, her words were barely discernible.

"Stop! No please, you mustn't! Don't do that..."

He had lifted the hem of her skirt half way up her bottom, pausing briefly to admire the juicy halves of her little girl’s cunny squeezed between her clenched thighs. He bunched the corduroy around her waist. Amazing: she was so very small and thin there and yet her hard rear-end was beautifully proportioned too, slim, with slight dimples to the outside of each buttock. Her hip bones jutted through the paleness of her skin and conveniently helped to hold back the roll of skirt around her middle. He pressed his strong hands to the side of her, under her hips, and lifted her so easily, nudging her bare legs partially beneath her so that her backside was thrust up into the air. Her face remained pressed into the sleeping bag.

She had felt so light, so tiny.

"That’s it, cunt!" he growled angrily, "I told you to shut the fuck up but no, the precious little bitch has to have her say. I was just going to tan your ass, a few smacks for letting your doggy piss on my stuff, but now I'm going to give you the biggest thrashing of your life."

He knelt beside her and took hold of her wrists, where they were crossed and bound tight with the dog lead, in the small of her back.

He rested his other hand over the curve of her bum. Her skin was hot yet perfectly smooth: it was impossible not to stroke the pair of delicious young buttocks exposed and awaiting their fate. He swallowed as his eyes roved down to the tops of her legs, to the darker softness of her crotch. His fingers ached to explore, but that could wait.

She had to be spanked first.

The small girl prised her mouth from the quilting and screamed at the top of her voice immediately his palm made contact. It was such a satisfying slap too, and so loud in the dusty silence: his huge palm and calloused fingers seemed to spread right across the whole of her tiny backside and the shockwave shook her small frame and seemed to drive her right down into the soft sleeping bag. The sound of flesh on flesh was exquisite, a sharp, dry crack in the thick stillness of the loose box, but the crescendo yelp that it provoked was altogether much too piercing.

Viktor was cross. The girl's incessant screaming detracted from the pleasure. If he was to beat her properly, it had to be contained.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he grumped, reaching out for the cold, wet pair of panties she had left over the side of the bucket after she had scrubbed the dog piss from his rucksack. He squeezed the excess water with his claw of a hand.

"Fuck!" he added, realising that he had nothing to hold the briefs in place once he had put them in.

Then he remembered her bra.

"Sit up!" he ordered.

Her face was flushed red and wet with tears; a string of spittle fell from the corner of her mouth and her expression was one of fearful indignation. She was lucky he did not backhand her to wipe it away. With difficulty, she wriggled upright, unable to use her hands as they were tied behind her back.

The roll of skirt tumbled back over her hips.

The tramp held her chin roughly and lifted her head to look into her eyes.

Suddenly he spat a tiny sphere of saliva into her face - it hit her forehead. The shock stopped her blubbing and she shrank back, her eyes hollow with horror.

"You stupid little bitch - you think you're so fucking great don't you? With your fancy clothes and stupid fucking dog and the way you look down your nose at the likes of me? We'll I'm going to show you what happens to stuck-up little cunts..."

He leaned down until his face was almost touching hers.

"They get well and truly fucked," he added.

And with that, he grasped the top of her blouse, just below the collar and ripped it open, pulling the sides apart until the buttons had popped or been ripped off right down to her waist. With a second tug, he pulled the rest from the bunched roll of her skirt and disposed of the last button, so that the flimsy chemise fell open, exposing her stomach and the little cotton bra she was wearing over her tiny breasts.

All Nessa could do was squeak, and she fell to silent trembling when Viktor produced the knife from his back pocket.

Drained of all colour, her face was a picture of total terror, those big, pale green eyes focused on the wicked-looking stiletto that snapped open before her with a sinister click. Towering above her, Viktor sizzled with power, his cock engorged, a cruel sneer across his lips.

Fuck, this was so much better than he could ever have hoped.

Just like the old days.

He lay the flat side of the blade against her cheek. She flinched and the cool metal flashed with the wet of her tears.

"Now perhaps you'll behave. It would be such a pity to slice your pretty face. Understand?"

She nodded with her eyes, too frightened to move her head lest the knife cut into her cheek.

Viktor's hard expression softened slightly, breaking into a thin smile of satisfaction.

He carefully prised a strap from her shoulder - the sharp blade made light work of it. And the second one. He could have unfastened the backstrap, or even cut the elastic, but it was much more fun to slide his fingers down between the small cups and wrench it viciously from her body. The speed and suddenness made her cry out, her skinny torso arched and flexed as the hooks and eyes tore from the elastic and the little white scrap of cotton was ripped from her, revealing at last the two fleshy points of her tiny tits, and the oversized, almost swollen pink circles surrounding her nipples.

The big man gave her no time to compose herself, he dropped the knife behind him, and swept up the soggy panties and pushed her down on to the sleeping bag, straddling her and trapping her with her arms crushed under her back. Holding her head roughly, his fingers forced her jaw open and he stuffed the wet cloth into her mouth, pushing it in deep and gripping her hips hard between his legs as she tried to struggle.

She choked and coughed and squealed and although he did not spare his strength, it was proving difficult to keep the wet pants inside, as she whipped her head from side to side.

"Keep still, you fucking dumb bitch!"

His words had no effect - she was fighting back with all her might, so he reached for the flick-knife and only when he had pinched her right nipple really hard and she felt the hard steel on her skin did she finally lie still, her chest heaving. Through his knuckles, he could even feel the rapid drumming of her heart.

"Move and I'll cut your tit off," he snarled over the sound of her desperate nose-breathing. "Don't think I won't."

Her tears streamed freely down the sides of her face.

But she was still now, and it was easy to stuff a good wad of damp panties between her teeth, then wrap the remains of her bra around her head and tie the elastic tight across her mouth, to keep the improvised gag in place. For good measure, Viktor reached behind her head and yanked the velour scrunchie from her ponytail, stretching it tight and lowering over her head so that it too pressed the wet fabric into her mouth. She made the occasional whimper of terror but the sound was muffled and quiet and would barely be heard at the other end of the loose box, and certainly not outside.

Thank fuck for that.

Viktor sat upright, the girl still trapped on her back beneath him.

Now he could look properly at those cute little tits, stroke the subtle curves beneath those ripe young nipples, and toy with the hard little knobs themselves, teasing and pulling with his fingertips. He played for a couple of minutes, privately enjoying the throbbing inside his jeans. Before he climbed off her, he again took up the knife and grasped a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and stretched it tightly away from her chest, He ran the dull side of the blade carefully against the distended flesh.

"I might just take this with me as a souvenir," he grinned into her terrified young eyes.

"But not quite yet - I haven't punished you yet have I?

“Don’t fret, dear,” he laughed, “I haven’t forgotten.”

He rolled her on to her front.

"Let's get this stupid thing off and then we can take a proper look at you before I start."

His chunky fingers fumbled with the button at the waist of her skirt and the small zip and then he almost lifted her legs clear of the sleeping back whilst he wriggled it down her thighs and over her feet and tossed it to the side.

In the cage inside the horse stall, Kimmi had stopped chewing his tail and had settled into the hay, watching what the human beings were doing on the floor in front of him.

Viktor stood up and rubbed ache in the small of his back. He looked down at Nessa and sighed with excitement. Now entirely naked, the small eleven-year-old's white body looked so clean and innocent, half-curled against the grubby blue of his old sleeping bag. With the gag of her underwear about her face pressing her straight blonde locks tight to her head, and the length of red leather dog lead wrapped tight around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her, she was subdued, accessible, and at last suitably prepared for some serious fun.

He stroked the soft skin of her bottom, circling his thick fingers across the small pink patch where his solitary smack had landed.

With the door to the box closed, the sun higher in the sky, and the effort of conquering the little fucker, Viktor felt hot.

The air was stuffy and dust motes drifted in the shafts of light from the small windows. He stripped to his boxer shorts. Nessa eyed him nervously, her eyes flickering away each time he looked at her. After years on the road, finding casual labour in the farms and vineyards and building sites, he was broad and muscular and must have weighed at least twice as much as the tiny girl.

Kimmi the retriever shuffled inside the cage and settled back down, watching eagerly as the big man lowered himself next to his owner: this was fascinating for the puppy, seeing what funny games humans did.

The girl's taut thigh was smooth and hot to the touch. She too was feeling the warmth, though the gloss of sweat was as much the result of her continuing horror. She was easily rolled over again on to her back. With her hands behind her waist, her body was arched up and when Viktor lifted her legs apart, her gorgeous little quim pouted towards him.

"Mmm, what have we here?" he teased, letting his fingertips alight over the long cleft that curved away between her legs. The girl flinched at his touch but remained still.

Viktor crouched lower, to examine closely Nessa's immature pussy.

He deftly pulled aside her labia, each side at a time, savouring the shiny, delicate pink folds of her tiny inner lips. He held her open and revealed the tiny dark aperture of her vagina - small and black and inviting. He stroked along the soft length of her clitoral hood and teasingly brushed the highly sensitive flesh at its base. Nessa squirmed.

Viktor marvelled. Quite beautiful, the cunt of a little girl - so simple and uncluttered and delicate.

"Like that do you, Nessa?" he grinned. He pressed a shade harder between her labia.

“I bet you do this all the time, don't you, you little slag? Eh, that's right isn't it? In the bath or alone in your bed at night, eh? Lift up your nightie and spread your legs and frig your pretty little cunt? Yeah, I bet you do, you horny little bitch."

His finger roamed down further between her inner labia and he curled the tip and slipped it into the hotness of her vagina.

"And I bet you put your finger up yourself and move it in and out like this. What do you think about, Nessa? When you're playing with yourself? Do you try to imagine what it's like, having a great big cock banging away into you, eh?"

His finger slipped a tad deeper and he began to slide it in and out, revisiting her clitoris every three or four strokes.

"Yeah, I bet you do, you dirty little slut. I bet you imagine a fucking great cock between your legs, ramming up into you. Do you play with your tits too?" he continued to taunt, reaching up with his spare hand to caress and cup her soft young breasts, his rough fingers toying with her nipple, trying to see if he could put some life into it, make it swell and lengthen.

"Or maybe you think about Kimmi?" he chuckled. "Yeah I can see that, you lying on your bed with your legs splayed and Kimmi's wet tongue lapping at your dirty little cunt. Is that what you do, Nessa? Dream about Kimmi and his big floppy tongue and his hard pink cock?"

The girl snapped her head from side to side, snorting and grunting into the foul, wet wad of cotton filling her mouth. She felt she was choking; saliva kept clogging her throat and she had to cough to breathe. The taste was horrid - in her imagination at least - the bitter tang of dog piss. She could do nothing, nothing to stop this massive scary man as his hands pulled her open and pinched and touched her. She tried to scream when he put his finger inside her but all that happened was that the panties tried to fill her throat and she retched.

Viktor stopped. He was no gynaecologist but he had found something there: in the way of his fingertip. He shivered. She might ride horses but she still had at least something in there.

A sweet little cherry, ripe for the picking.

This just got better and better.

Never in her worst nightmares had she faced anything like this. At the back of her mind, she tried not to think what he was going to do - strangle her, cut her throat?

And at the vanguard of her consciousness, she was completely overwhelmed by him - his fingers on her body, the heat of him so close, his scent, and the terrible things he was saying about her. His finger. There.

What had she done to deserve this? He was a nasty, bad, scary man, but she had said sorry hadn't she? And promised not to report him. But he was still so angry and she hated so much what he was doing.

Yet she could do nothing to stop him.

"Do you like this then, little Nessa? Do you like having your tits played with and having someone diddle your clit? Eh?"

She squeaked weakly and shook her head and he just laughed.

It was certainly impossible not to get turned on by her cunt. And her sweet little tummy was so tight and flat and the mound between her legs swelled and stood so proud, just right for holding in his palm, all hot and exciting, and then as he pushed her thighs even wider apart, he could watch his fingers pry and tease and the helpless confusion and fear in her sweet young face.

Fuck! He needed to take time out! A n experience like this could not be rushed,

"That's enough, you filthy little whore," he chuckled, rolling her back over on to her front.

"You were getting turned on by that, weren't you?"

He wiped his finger along her spine.

"Well don't think I've forgotten your punishment. Pushing your hot little fanny at me didn't work, you slut. I still want to make you suffer."

She was strangely relieved, though the small girl's body was still taut with nerves, knowing that he had only slapped her the once, and if he was going to do it again, it was really going to sting.

Oh God, please don’t let him!

She felt his rough, dry hands push under her stomach and thighs and she looked back to see what Viktor was doing. She could see the way something was stretching the fabric at the front of his boxers and although she was quite innocent in such matters, she had a very good idea what was doing it and she shuddered, realising that if he were that aroused, he might well do something really ghastly to her.

Especially after he had already poked and pulled her down below. Please, please God, no!

He lifted her body and pulled her towards him, laying her down at right angles across the top of his thighs. She could feel that hard thing pressing into her side. Gross!

But her desperate, wild imaginings were cut short. Viktor had something entirely different in mind, when he laid her in his lap.

Her body snapped and fell back to the sleeping bag. And as the sharp sting from the slap registered in her brain, she screamed into the wad of cloth and snorted hard and fast through her mouth and nose as she rode the indescribable pain. Again his hand landed on her bottom, lower this time, across the fold where it met the top of her thighs. And again, on the outside of her buttocks, then once more on the opposite side.

This time he could appreciate the wonderful sound of his palm cracking across her firm little arse. Her yells and cries were reduced by the gag to an arousing moan, through which he was able to judge the effect of each and every delicious smack.

The onslaught was relentless. No sooner had the sharp flash of pain shot through her, and she fought to steady her breathing, than Viktor's palm swung down hard again, each time subtly different in its aim: sometimes at the top of her buttocks, then almost as low as the back of her thighs. But always, every third slap was directly on the firmest, fleshiest apex, which was soon bright red, fiery and in constant agony.

Nessa soon lost count of how many times he had spanked her. Several times, she felt herself going under, then suddenly realised with nauseating horror that she was still draped over his lap and he was still hitting her.

Her strength deserted her and she no longer flinched or bucked when his hand made contact. The pain was so great and continuous now, that each subsequent slap hardly registered. Her throat had no reserves and she sank beneath a black blanket of total, agonised misery, her senses overwhelmed by the endless torrent of smacks.

Her bottom was almost numb, so total was the pain and only the rocking of his legs under her and the sickening ‘thwack, thwack’ told her that he was still raining blows down on to her.

Even when he paused for a breather, to massage his palm and to stroke the red raw puckered skin across her bottom, the pulsating, bubbling fire still roared inside her buttocks.

It was fantastic.

The way she seemed to lose her spirit before his very eyes. And to watch her soft, pale little ass turn pink then red and even, across the middle of each side, to some fetching shades of purple as the bruising began to form. It was better on her right buttock - he could make out the distinct shape of his fingers at the edges.

He loved how her little naked body rubbed against his cock each time his slap reverberated through her.

And the low, helpless wailing sound from the back of her throat, and the dribble of snot from her nostrils as he spanked the very breath from her.

"That'll teach you, you stuck-up little bitch. Not so fucking holier-than-thou now are you, cunt?"

He spanked her another half-dozen times - goodness knows how many blows he had placed on her tiny body but now there was hardly any reaction at all - the young girl was so exhausted, so drained, that she could barely maintain the soft, instinctive, self-pitying whimper that at least showed she was still conscious.

And his hand was fucking sore.

Viktor pushed her down his thighs and pulled his legs from under her body, which flopped untidily over the sleeping bag. Her bum was noticeably swollen, the skin roughened and ridged and every shade of red.

He had not intended to spank her for so long, or so thoroughly, but it was addictive. The more he hit her little body, the greater was the thrill. She was little more than a doll over his lap, and the sounds - of his hand landing on her flesh, and her bleating - were just incredible.

She lay still, breathing irregularly, her eyes open yet glazed.

Jeez - he was panting! Spanking the bitch was hard work!

He took the opportunity to stretch his legs, to walk over to Kimmi and ruffle the back of the retriever's neck. Kimmi licked his hand, perhaps tasting the sweat from his mistress's raw backside.

What Viktor needed next was in the cupboard. The slatted doors did not fit well and he had already seen the contents. A hefty tug and the cheap hasp was wrenched from the frame and the toyshop was open.

Viktor poked around: even better than he had expected.

Nessa became aware of hands lifting her up. She had almost found the sanctuary of sleep and now , cruelly, she was being denied it. Coming round, she moaned as the inferno at the top of her legs reignited and every slight movement of her body sent fresh waves of pain through her. The man's strong fingers could completely encircle her upper arms and he all but lifted her bodily to her feet. She swayed, and her eyes opened and he was staring right into her face.

"Hello again, Nessa," he grinned. Uneven teeth and stubble and stale breath, tainted with the sickly scent of peach brandy. She felt sick.

He guided her across the floor of the loose box, almost dragging her feet over the dusty boards when she lost her balance.

"That little spanking was just the Vorspeise," he whispered into her ear, bending low, for the top of her head was level with the grisly hairs on his chest. "That was just your punishment for being an arrogant, stuck-up little cunt, who can't control her fucking dog."

He spun her round and released the dog leash from her wrists.

For the briefest of moments she foolishly dreamed he might be letting her go.

Nessa yelped as he lifted her arms - the joints were so stiff, having been pinned behind her back for so long.

"Now we have the main course. No particular reason for it: it's just that I want to hurt you some more. I want to watch you in pain. Such a sweet little body you have. Let's have some fun spoiling it some more, eh?"

He lifted her wrists high above her head, and leaned her body against him as he tied the rope around the tender skin, already marked and pink from the leather lead. A metre apart, two short lengths of thick cord now suspended her arms from the main roof joist. He stepped back and she stumbled and panicked as she began to fall then grunted in pain as the cord bit into her wrists and she almost danced as she struggled to brace her legs and take the weight of her body off her arms.

Viktor cackled with delight. This should be good.

As she swayed, confused, and suffering, he watched the gorgeous dark crack of her fabulous young cunt, pouting at the top of her legs.

As the floorboards creaked next to her, Nessa was suddenly much more awake, and very, very scared. Her big green eyes bulged, watching his every move with nervous apprehension.

"Shall I take out your gag?" he asked pleasantly.

The girl nodded, her expression one of forced gratitude. She mumbled something but of course it just came out as a muffled grunt.

Viktor stood directly in front of her, nursing her left breast in his hand. He reached up and stroked her face gently, sweeping aside the strands of hair stuck by sweat to her forehead.

"If you make too much noise this time, I really will cut this off," he said mildly, his fingers returning to toy with her tiny nipple.

"Do you give me your solemn promise that you will not scream or shriek or answer me back, if I take it out?"

Nessa nodded vigorously.

He smiled pleasantly and tugged at the knot in the remains of her bra. It would not yield to his thick fingers, so he simply pulled it up over her head; it caught on her scrunchie, which wiped a string of saliva and mucus up over the bridge of her nose. Her long, fine, blonde hair fell loose over her shoulders, framing her flushed and tear-streaked face.

"Open wide," Viktor grinned and he tugged the damp white cotton ball from between her teeth, holding it at arms length then letting it drop to the floor.

Nessa gulped in air, and tried to spit out the few threads that remained on her tongue and lips, but her mouth was dry.

"Oh dear, Nessa darling, I have been a dreadful host," said Viktor in a mocking tone, "here - let me get you a drink."

She listened to him go behind her, and she heard the metallic cap of a bottle being unscrewed. Then suddenly his hand was gripping her jaw from behind and lifting her face upwards and she could see the glint of a bottle before her eyes and his fingers were prising her mouth open and there was liquid pouring in her mouth and she could smell a strong fruity smell. Then the liquor stung her tongue and though she tried to turn away, he was emptying more of the thick, clear drink into her mouth and it burned her dry mouth then his hand closed over her lips and nose and she half coughed and the stuff went down her throat and it felt like acid, burning the tender walls of her gullet. She heaved and some of the stuff went down her nose, where it stung and the smell and the sickly taste and the way it gripped her tongue were unbearable. She was desperate to breathe. She had no choice but to force the rest of the brandy down, even though it hurt and only when she was grunting and wailing and she thought she was about to suffocate, did he take away his huge hand and she was able to suck in and fill her lungs.

“Prosit,” laughed Viktor.

Then he did it all over again, emptying the last dregs from the bottle into her mouth and compelling her to swallow the lot before she was again allowed to breathe.

He stood aside, laughing uncontrollably as she gasped and choked and coughed.

"That's strong schnapps, Nessa, but you'll be grateful for it soon. To dull the senses."

When he stopped laughing at her distress, Viktor again moved round and stood close to her, until the bulge in his boxers was almost brushing against her ribs. He waggled his finger and tutted at her.

"And where are your manners, Nessa? I didn't hear you say thank you, Mister Ziggi, for the very nice drink?"

The eleven-year-old was still trying to gulp down air, to soothe the fire in her mouth and throat. But she had no wish to antagonise her tormentor. With great effort she croaked a reply.

"Thank you very much Mister Ziggi for the (cough) nice drink."

He gave her an indulgent, sickly smile whilst his hand reached down, flattening over the muscular crease of her tummy and slithering a descent to encase once more the firm deliciousness of her prominent pubic mound. His fingers curled and brushed across the surface lightly. He stared down into her eyes, watching for any reaction.

The little girl swallowed hard and fought to keep her composure and even to maintain his gaze.

"You made a promise to me, didn't you Nessa? That you would be a good girl and not make lots of noise?"

She nodded, trying not to think about his hand, stroking her between her legs.

Viktor arched his eyebrow.

"I think you meant to say 'Yes, Sir, Mister Ziggi' didn't you?"

She blinked and quickly complied. Her nose was filled with the stench of the alcohol.

"Yes, Sir, I did."

"Well it's time to see how good you are at keeping your promise," Viktor snarled, and his fingertips tightened around the line of sparse, fluffy blonde down that was just beginning to sprout at the top of her juicy labia, so pale and fine he had not noticed it the first time he fondled her cunt. But this time he had managed to pinch between his fingernails a dozen or so of the curly hairs and as he stepped away from her, he tore them out with a snap of his wrist.

It was actually more in shock than pain, for only a few hairs actually came out, and it was nowhere near as bad as her spanking, but it was enough for her instinctively to squeal loudly and whip her body backwards, so that she lost her footing and swung for several seconds from the ropes at her wrists, wriggling and whimpering.

Viktor pretended to look shocked.

"Oh dear, oh, dear, Nessa. That was very naughty. You promised to be a good girl."

He walked around behind her, admiring the dark patches of bruising now mottling the redness of her bottom, running his fingertips over the swollen ridges where his hard hand had spanked her again and again and his fingers had left their mark. He curled his hand over the firmness of each buttock and let his middle finger slide down into the hot, damp crevice, where it inched slowly between the raw, inflamed mounds until it found the small, wrinkled indentation and he bent it at the first knuckle and wriggled firmly until the tip overcame the resistance and was snuggly nestled inside her smooth anus.

"You just don’t seem to learn, you silly child. I'm going to have to punish you all over again."