NESSA'S PUPPY

BY LOWLIFE
lowlife_@fastmail.fm

[ part 3 ]

Nessa's pale, scared, watery green eyes darted nervously from side to side, trying to see what the horrid man was doing.

Even doing that seemed to hurt.

Her throat was raw, like her bottom, and her lungs ached from all the crying and gasping in the hot, dusty air inside the loose box. She was shivering, though her body was hot and her skin was bathed in a satin glaze of sweat. Her arms had been tied over her head for only about a quarter of an hour, but already they were heavy and uncomfortable, and the tight cord wound around each wrist dug in if she let them relax, so she had to keep her fingers wrapped around the taut lengths that were attached to the rafter over her head.

She had to keep her back straight if she were to keep her weight firmly on her bare feet. The floorboards were gritty beneath her soles. If she moved her feet very far, or lost her balance, as had already happened a few times, her arms wrenched and the ropes cut into her.

At least the horrible man had taken out her gag. That had been awful - she could still taste the wet cloth of her own pants, tinged with the sourness of dog pee from where she had had to wipe down the man's backpack. But almost as bad was the tingling, greasy aftertaste of the peach brandy he had forced down her throat.

Her head was pounding and she felt terribly sick. As the alcohol began to take effect, the eleven-year-old's head felt thick - she had to frown and concentrate; will herself to keep her wits about her, and try not to lose heart.

She could see Kimmi, her retriever puppy, curled up in the feed basket on the wall of the horse stall. He was safe - the man had threatened to wring his neck earlier on. Perhaps the man would let her go. Maybe he wouldn't hurt her any more. He liked to scare her, but he had already hurt her so much, surely he didn't need to do any more. She was so sorry for making him cross.

Neither she nor the man - Mister Ziggi she had to call him - had spoken for about ten minutes.

She could sense him behind her. He had smoked a cigarette and the smell of the smoke had made her nose wrinkle. Smoking was a bad thing. He was a very bad man.

When he came into view, she could not help herself looking at the great bulge in the front of his shorts. It worried her. He said terrible things: he swore and used bad words and he touched her private parts. What if he...?

Nessa drove the thought from her mind. There were plenty of other fears to take its place.

He was rummaging in the tack cupboard again.

There was no warning.

He had said nothing and she had heard only the floorboards creaking like they did when he came close.

The pain took a moment to register. Then it took her over - more complete and overwhelming than she could ever have imagined. A whole new level beyond the spanking. Her legs lost their strength and she slumped forward, propelled by the force of the whip as it bit deep into the already throbbing flesh of her small, narrow young bottom.

The tiny girl hung from the ropes, her mouth wide open, her eyes popping and she began to scream. Yet the second blow, lower than the first, across the back of her right thigh, interrupted her, choking the breath from her and she coughed and spluttered, trying to form the words, to plead with him to stop.

"No, please, Mister Zi..."

Viktor almost danced over the floor, trying to line up the third stroke. The tiny girl was flopping and squirming from the ropes, twisting and rubbing her thighs together as the excruciating pain took hold. Already two livid red marks were plain to see, even over the already raw flesh of her bum. He judged the angle well and as she rocked back into range, the thin plaited leather of the ancient whip swung low and parallel to the floor and snapped across the back of her thighs, right where they joined the curve of her buttock. And best of all, the leather kept on going, descending across the crack of her cunt, for her wriggling had squeezed her fleshy labia out between her thighs, and so the effect was truly magnificent.

She made a yelping sound that was cut curiously short, then she coughed and grunted, and hung, half-choking and limp, and Viktor watched, fascinated, as the stream of urine spluttered and bubbled from between the top of her legs and trickled down her thighs.

He waited until the flow stopped.

"You filthy, dirty little bitch!" he snarled and swung the whip, low and upwards, though not as hard as before, but it found its target, smack on to her protruding cunny, across the soft, downy lips, where almost immediately an ugly red line bloomed over the smooth white skin, almost down into the dark crevice itself. Nessa's head snapped back, her fine blonde hair shimmering, her mouth wide open and eyes closed tight.

"Arrrgh! No! Please… Sir! No, no, no more!"

Viktor moved behind her and slid his hands around her bony ribcage and lifted her until she could find her feet again. He rested his head on her shoulder and cooed in her ear, his fingers toying with her tiny hard nipples.

"Shh, there, there, Nessa, my sweet child. There. All stopped now."

He fondled her breast and pushed his crotch along her spine.

"You are a pair of bad little ones, you and your naughty doggy," he oozed, "neither of you able to stop yourself pissing all over the place."

Her chest was heaving and she could not control her shaking, nor the quivering sobs stuttering up from her throat. Her head was swimming. She moaned and her head flopped against his.

"Now I shall have to clean you up, won't I, you dirty little girl?"

She grunted incomprehensibly.

"That was bad, to wee wee like that, without asking for my permission. Are you sorry?"

Fuddled, she nodded.

Viktor gripped her nipple tightly and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Her body tensed.

"I didn't hear that."

She slurred, "Yes, I'm sorry."

Nessa gasped. He was pinching her so hard, pulling her nipple hard and twisting it painfully.

"You are so disrespectful. Sorry what?"

Her brain could hardly work out what he wanted, through the pain and the fuzz as the brandy took effect. Willing it to make sense, to stop him hurting her, she forced out the words, slowly and deliberately.

"I am sorry, Mister Ziggi. I am sorry I wee'd, and I'm sorry I made you cross and I'm sorry Kimmi wee'd on your bag and I'd like very much to go home. Please don't hurt me any more. I'll do what you say but please no more..."

Viktor released her and rubbed her stinging breast tenderly. He stroked her hard, flat tummy, tracing the muscular groove up and down from her chest to the delicate dimple of her navel.

"That's better; that's a good, girl. It's much nicer when you remember your manners."

Then he kissed her shoulder. And held aside her long, soft hair and nuzzled her ear and licked the sweat from the delicate hotness at the back of her neck. She was so warm, with a clean, subtle fragrance to her skin and hair - healthy, pure, innocent. Debasing this kid was pure ecstasy.

"Better fetch some clean water," he said.

Nessa was in a quandary. Though her head was spinning, and her throat was dry and sore, as if there was something large and rough trying to rise up inside it, she tried to focus on what was happening, to find a way, any way, to stop this torture. She stared at the wide open door of the loose box, beyond the bright sunlight that was stinging her eyes, and out into the warm day and the paddock and the woods.

If only…

Anyone in the clearing, who looked towards the loose box, would see her, strung up naked, hanging from the beam in the centre of the stable. Should she yell? Cry out in case someone were walking their own dog in the woods? She had not been gone long enough to be missed at home, but surely plenty of other people from the village came up here?

It was a test wasn't it?

He had done that specially: left the door open whilst he went around the back to fill the bucket from the outside tap. He was waiting out there wasn't he? Just around the corner so that as soon as she opened her mouth to shout, he could come in and do something terrible to her. He had that knife - the one he had used to cut off her bra, the one he threatened to use to cut off her nipple.

Oh God! Nessa shuddered as she remembered her blind panic.

That was it. He wanted her to try something, so he would have another excuse to hurt her? She could not bring herself to make a noise. She stared at the fence around the field, at the trees. She heard the wind rustling and the sound of birds in the distance.

But she could not find the courage to make a sound herself. Outside, in the real world, there might be someone to see her, to call for help, or rescue her. But for the tiny, beaten girl, the only thing that mattered was the nasty man, who was coming back inside with a bucket of water and who smiled and slid back the door and sealed her back inside her nightmare.

Her body jolted as he poured half the bucket of cold water over her stomach and crotch and down her legs. She felt herself shaking as he rinsed out the screwed-up rag that had been started out as her panties, then became a cloth to wipe down his bag, and then served as her horrid gag as he spanked her mercilessly. He crouched and very slowly and thoroughly washed her down, rinsing away the urine that had chilled on the skin of her legs and feet.

He poured the rest of the bucket over her then dabbed her dry with what was left of her blouse.

"There. All clean. That feels better doesn't it?"

Automatically she replied.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Ziggi."

Viktor felt the electricity sizzle through him. Her spontaneous gratitude: she was learning at last.

He stood and admired his work. Jesus, her cunt was amazing - sculpted and pure, and even despite the livid red streak across those spongy lips, it looked good enough to eat.

Well - why not? She was nice and clean.

Viktor reclaimed a couple of empty hessian sacks from a corner and lay them at her feet, so that he didn't have to kneel in the wet.

"Good girl, Nessa. I like it when you are polite to me. You get a reward for that. Would you like a reward for being a good little girl?"

Her eyes betrayed her misgivings, but nevertheless, she croaked quietly:

"Yes please, Mister Ziggi."

He could barely prevent himself from giggling. The little bitch was putty in his hands.

He squatted and holding her hips, pressed his face to stomach, his tongue brushing the damp, warm skin. His lips brushed the downy patch of fine blonde curls over her pubis, then passed tenderly down, to suckle her clitoral hood. Nessa braced herself. What was he doing, for Heaven’s sake?

His tongue pushed the small warm flap aside, pressing down on the delicate, glossy surface of her clitoris, slithering down between her tiny inner labia and seeking out the entrance to her vagina, where it paused and pushed and wriggled.

She gasped, the inquisitive tip of his tongue curled and pushed the tiny hole open but then he flattened his tongue, licking upwards, pushing her labia aside and flicking up over her clit again. Viktor rubbed the flat of his tongue firmly up and down her, pulling her gently by her hips against his face. He salivated, moistening the hot, silky flesh and probing again the small, slowly yielding aperture below her labia. Then once more, his tongue slipped up her crack and danced about the tiny glossy surface of her immature little clitoris.

She fought the drowsiness, struggling desperately not to let the tender weirdness between her legs lull her. He was putting his mouth all over her private parts - disgusting but it did not hurt and while he was doing that, she could forget for a second the dreadful things he had already done.

Briefly, she could ignore the strain in her arms, and the throbbing in her bottom. She looked down at the top of his head, moving about slowly next to her stomach.

How could he be doing such a thing to a little girl like her?

Would he now be satisfied enough to let her go?

Please?

Viktor stood up.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Delicious little pussy,” he leered and she tried to control her swirling brain, to study his grinning face, and look for any indication that he was sufficiently pleased to release her.

"Shame I’m pushed for time, I would have liked to see if I could get you going, but we’ve a busy schedule this morning, Nessa. Did you enjoy that by the way?"

Her heavy-lidded eyes struggled to look at him. Even her lips needed concentration in order to speak, it seemed. She was quite drunk.

"Yes, Mishter Ziggi."

"Do you like lollipops, Nessa? Can you suck them slowly and make them last for ages?" Viktor spluttered: it was so funny.

"Mmm, yes," she replied sleepily. Then she remembered her manners. "Mister Zi...Zick, Mister Ziggi!"

"Oh good. I have a special lollipop for you and I want you to suck it very, very carefully."

Viktor had to stand on an upturned crate but the height was just about perfect. The comic way her tired, watery eyes almost popped out of her head when he dropped his shorts right in front of her face, gave that special impetus, and his already hugely swollen cock twitched, as if delighted to be granted its freedom after all that time constricted inside his underwear.

"Your turn now. That's what you wanted, wasn't it Nessa? You've been taking sneaky peeks at it all morning and now you can take a good look. Big isn't it? Tell me, have you seen a cock all big and hard before?"

She was too stunned to answer straight away.

"Nessa, dear? I asked you if you have seen a big erect cock before?"

She shook her head, unable to take her eyes off the knobbly, swollen length of hard flesh almost touching her chin. It was unlike anything she had seen - all hairy around the base and the end that was wiggling around was a great big shiny purple dome, with a hole in it. It was hideous, yet she was fascinated as much as she was repulsed. And there was so much of it. She genuinely did not realise that men's thingies did that - got so thick and long. She knew what her Dad's looked like, from that time when he had to use her parents' bathroom when Gran was staying, but it never looked like this.

"You do want to lick it, don't you, Nessa?"

Her eyes flicked up momentarily. He couldn't mean that, surely?

"Well, girl? Ask me nicely if you may lick my nice hard cock."

Viktor held the sides of her head and inched his cock closer until the tip brushed across her startled lips.

"M..may I lick..." she stammered.

"Go on, girl, say it. Ask me very nicely what you want."

"May I lick your... c-cock?"

He squeezed her head between his huge paws.

"Again. Properly. Ask it properly!"

Nessa's lips trembled. Her eyes filled with yet more tears and his cock spasmed as she spoke.

"Please may I lick your big c-cock, Mister Zhiggi?" she slurred, blinking as she struggled with the words.

"Good girl," he responded, loosening the pressure on her head. He reached down and squeezed the base of his penis. Though he had given it a quick rinse when he filled the bucket, the head already gleamed from a fresh coating of pre-cum and now he milked a large droplet of clear liquid out of his urethra.

"First, let's give you some nice shiny lip gloss. Keep your head very still and purse your lips, like you're blowing a kiss."

His own heart hammering with excitement, Viktor very carefully and deliberately smeared the stickiness across the small girl's childishly puckered lips.

"Open your eyes, dear - I want you to see what you're doing. Now that looks lovely. Rub your lips together: get the nice sticky stuff all over them. Now you can lick them. Get used to the taste.

“Excellent. Well done."

Viktor raised his eyes to the ceiling. Fuck, this was something else! He just hoped he could hold off spraying her face with his spunk long enough to make her perform.

"Now I want you to pay your respects. Give my cock a kiss, right on the end. Good girl. Now kiss it all the way down, right down, that's it, little butterfly kisses, keep going - kiss my balls. Oh yes, that's right. Now lick it. Lick my balls first, all over. I want to feel your sweet little tongue everywhere. Oh yes. Nice, then up the shaft again - don't forget to lick it all round. Come on - plenty of spit, make it all lovely and wet all over. Slowly now: all the way up, then nice slow, long licks all over the shiny end. Yes, very good."

Nessa's neck was taut with concentration, and she still shook sporadically. His face was almost level with her wrists and he could see her fists clench and unclench about the rope, mimicking the movement of her mouth.

Although Viktor had told her to keep her eyes open, her lids kept falling shut, as the booze and exhaustion took their toll.

"That's very good, Nessa. Now I want you to stick your tongue right out, as far as it will go, and open your mouth really wide. I'm going to put my cock on your tongue and then I want you to curl your top lip over your teeth and slowly move your head forward until you've got it all inside your mouth. That's right. Open wider, good.

"Good girl! A bit more. And more.

“I want to feel the back of your throat. Go on - don't be shy - it won't bite. OK. Now squeeze your tongue up and suck in your cheeks. More. Very good. Fine, now slide your head back very slowly, a bit at a time and keep sucking.

"That was good. Now you try it, without my hands on your head. Slide forward... more - go on, don't stop - don't make me have to push your head. And suck and slide back. Keep doing that."

It was an incredible sight. Viktor looked down his chest at the tiny girl, watching her mouth stretched around his fat cock, slowly inching her face along it. He kept a gentle guiding hand on the back of her head, helping her when she stopped taking it inside too early and keeping himself inside her as he pushed his hips forward, forcing the end of his knob against the roof of her mouth and towards her throat until she tensed and began to choke.

He had to have a respite.

"That's very good, Nessa - you are a natural cocksucker!"

"Give it all a nice lick again. Tickle that bit just there with the tip of your tongue. Oh yes!"

After so much thrill, spanking and tormenting and dominating, and now having her making a reasonable go at a blowjob, Viktor was fit to burst.

"OK, Nessa, that's enough. Go back to putting it in and out of your mouth. A little quicker this time."

She complied. It was foul. Disgusting. But better than being whipped. If she could only keep him pleased, he might let her go. Before he had hit her with that whip thing, she noticed that he had put his backpack next to the door and she thought he was preparing to go. But then he had hurt her again.

Yet he said earlier he was leaving.

Maybe if she just did this nasty thing with his willy in her mouth he might go? The little girl's mind was in a whirl - she couldn't concentrate. And now she had to put her mouth around it again. Why wouldn't the horrible man just leave?

"I'm going to cum very soon. Do you know what that means, Nessa?"

She looked up at him - those wonderful, sad green eyes said no.

Viktor smiled indulgently. She was such a sweet innocent. Made it so much more fantastic to be abusing her like this.

"It means that some spunk will squirt from the end of my cock. And when it does, I want it all to go in your mouth. But you mustn't swallow it. Not until I say so. I'll tell you when it is about to happen. Understand?"

She made a sound and tried to nod but it is not so easy with a huge cock making your cheeks bulge.

"That's very good, Nessa. Oh yes, yes. Get ready. Get ready, I'm going to cum... oh yes, oh fuck, Jesus, oh fuck!"

Though he held her head firmly as soon as the semen rose from his balls, Nessa was so unprepared for the sudden jet of hot cum that suddenly seemed to fill her entire mouth that she instinctively snapped her head back, fearing it would choke her. Consequently the second spurt landed on her lips and the third missed her mouth altogether, leaving a creamy trail down her chin.

Viktor almost lost his balance and had to reach out and grab the roof beam over his head, so as not to topple from the crate.

"Oh you fucking stupid, clumsy little cow! Jesus fucking Christ!"

He steadied himself and quickly realised what had happened.

"Stay absolutely still. Don't move a fucking muscle or I'll get my knife. Now open your mouth and hold out your tongue - if I don't see a mouthful of my cum you are in serious trouble!"

Nessa was suddenly fully alert. The taste and smell and warm feel of the sticky stuff that had hit the back of her mouth and coated her tongue, the desperation of her reaction and the sheer venom of Mister Ziggi when he almost fell off the crate: it had been enough to drive away her alcoholic fug. He was so angry. She stood petrified, holding her mouth open as he had ordered. She prayed he wouldn't do anything bad.

Viktor shook his head in sham regret.

His hand shot out and held her jaw very tight, angling her face up towards him.

"You are really going to regret that, Nessa. I thought you had learned your lesson - you were doing so well, doing what I told you. But no. You had to spoil it didn't you? I told you specifically that I wanted you to hold my spunk in your mouth and look at you! There's a bit inside but the rest of it is all over your fucking face!"

He could feel her begin to shake. There was absolute terror in those lovely eyes.

"Now lick what you can off your lips. Go on! Stupid little fucker! OK, now you can swallow it all. You ungrateful bitch."

He was laying it on thick: he wanted her very, very scared.

And he was succeeding.

Stepping down and kicking the crate aside, he paced around her, muttering and hauling his jeans up his legs.

"How could you? I kindly give you one of the greatest treats a girl can have - letting you suck me off and even... even letting you have the privilege of cumming in your mouth, and what do you do? Fuck it up that's what. Pull your head away. Jesus! I bet no other girls in your class have been as lucky as you, having a man actually let you eat his spunk, but are you grateful - clearly not! Well? Are you?"

She dared to reply. Only just. Quietly and she gave a little cough to clear the thick, cloying semen from her throat.

"Please Mister Ziggi, Sir, I'm so sorry. I did try, it was just..."

"Spare me your bleating," Viktor barked, cutting her off and storming over to the tack cupboard to collect the coil of rope he had made ready earlier. As he threw one end over the rafter, a metre or so beyond the existing ropes, he growled.

"Obviously there's only one thing you understand, so that's what I'm going to have to give you."

He took the loose end of rope and tied it quickly around her left ankle. Then, as she was still wondering what he was doing, he took hold of the other end and pulled and suddenly her leg was snatched sideways and she fell, so that she was suspended only by the cords around her wrists. She gasped. But Viktor continued to haul down on the rope until her ankle was up level with her waist and she was desperately trying to regain her balance enough to put her weight on her right leg.

Not until Viktor had tied off the rope and she stopped being pulled about could she achieve this, balancing inelegantly on one leg to take the strain from her poor, stretched arms.

"You just couldn't do as you were told could you?" he snarled at the stunned little girl, spreadeagled by the ropes on three of her limbs, watching his every move with increasing dismay.

When she saw him pick up the long leather whip, she could not help herself crying out in a pitiful wail.

"Oh no, please, Mister Ziggi, please nooooo!"

He had to bend low to land the whip where he wanted: high up her inner right thigh, only just beneath her crotch. The skin there was so soft and tender and on top of the sharpness of the pain itself, the very proximity of the stroke to her cunny was an added source of horror for the exhausted eleven-year-old.

She shrieked.

"Any more screaming like that and I'll cut your fucking tit off right here and now!" yelled Viktor, swinging the whip low and hard, marking her pure white skin with a parallel red streak a few centimetres below the first.

The effect was spectacular. Nessa hopped on her unrestrained leg, writhing as best she could with her wrists and other ankle tied to the rafter. Her face was screwed up in agony as she coped with the excruciating pain and the dire warnings should she yell again. Her eyes were shut tight, and her teeth were clenched and her long blonde locks, damp with her sweat, shook and swirled about her head.

"Please, Mister Ziggi..."

The whip whistled, low and fast and flexed around her thin, muscular thigh once more.

The little girl danced, her wail escaping in breathy staccato grunts through her nose.

"Yeeowww! Stop, please. I beg,,,"

With a dull snap, the plaited leather swept upwards, missing her crotch by just a centimetre and crossing the rapidly-swelling scarlet welt of the first stroke. She stifled her moan courageously, chewing her bottom lip.

She tasted again the strong tang of semen.

In the hay cage in the stall, Kimmi paced around anxiously. The puppy could sense the little girl's distress; her stifled cries pricked up his ears and he began to whine, his floppy tongue slavering over his teeth. As the whip landed again and again, and her cries became yet more frantic, the dog began to bark and claw at the wire frame.

"Jesus fucking wept!" Viktor exclaimed, throwing the whip to the ground. He stamped over to the stall and addressed the animal. "Shut the fuck up, you damned mutt!"

The dog wagged its tail, grateful for the attention. Viktor growled and went back to Nessa.

He stared at her for a moment, hanging so helplessly from the ropes, entirely broken and silent, save for the sound of her panting for breath and the occasional pitiful sob as another shooting surge of pain pulsed up from her battered thigh. He came closer, picking up the whip and gloating at her misery, then stroked the tip teasingly up the crack of her pussy. Her eyes stared up, dull and imploring him to leave her alone. He patted her labia with the whip.

"No more, please," she croaked, almost inaudibly.

"No more? No fucking more?" echoed Viktor with faux incredulity.

He rubbed the whip menacingly up and down between her fleshy soft pink lips.

"I've hardly started. There's still your other leg yet. And then we might move on to here.”

The whip teased and he could taste her fear again.

"Oh yes, my dear, I haven't given your pussy a proper whipping yet have I?"

At that, he flicked the whip down and up again: not hard - more of a playful tap, but the speed and anticipation more than made up for it. She leapt backwards, and bounced and swayed from the ropes, yelping like her puppy. Kimmi answered her.

"That's it," announced Viktor, "I've had enough of that ruddy hound!."

He took the empty bucket and marched to the stall, and the feed cage, from which he grabbed the yapping puppy by the scruff of its neck and dumped it in the pail, then he angrily swept open the door and stormed out.

Nessa listened. Kimmi's barking grew fainter then suddenly stopped. Moments later, Viktor appeared in the doorway, carrying the empty bucket.

"Damned dog," he snarled, sliding the door closed behind him.

From the corner of his eye, he watched for her reaction. She was not to know that he had merely shut the dog in a small shed behind the loose box, where the owner kept the bits and bobs she used to make small jumps for the paddock. The puppy was delighted with so many new things to sniff and explore.

Despite her pain, despite her fear of the man, her humiliation and her despair, her concern was for her little dog.

"What have you done with Kimmi?" she braved. Then, as she realised he was not going to reply, her last reserves of courage deserted her. Her face crumpled, and she tossed her head back and gave a cry of disbelieving anguish.

"Noooo...!"

Viktor sidled past her. His guts twinged with the thrill of his deceit and the effect it had on the small girl.

His flaccid cock began to thicken again.