'UNCLE' BARRY'S VAN

BY PENNY LEE
penny_s_lee@hotmail.com

Kim was still on a high from her thirteenth birthday, two days ago. A teenager at last. Half way through her first year at secondary school, Some new clothes from Mum, to wear at the weekend and impress her posse of new mates. Even lessons today hadn't dragged. For a change, she was happy.

She had been idling along, chatting to some classmates, and was turning the corner of the street, when her jaw dropped and her mood changed instantaneously.

'Uncle' Barry's van was parked at the side of the road. She could see him reflected in the door mirror and he would have seen her too. So there was no escape, no pretending she hadn't noticed him, no chance of running off and hanging around at a mate's place until Mum came home so that she wouldn't have to be at home with Barry around. Why today? Why bloody everything? Why couldn't Mum see through this bastard and get rid of him for ever? Why did she let him bully her around? Why couldn't she just tell that Barry was abusing her daughter?

She made excuses to the friends walking with her, and let them go on without her, taking as she took as long as she dared to approach the van. For she knew she had no choice.

This was becoming a regular occurrence. Once or twice a week, at least when he wasn't away for the week on contract glazing work (how she looked forward to those weeks). It was over four months since he had first forced himself on her in her own bed, on one of the awful Thursday nights when Mum worked late at her second job, and she was left alone in the house, at the mercy of her Mum's sadistic live-in boyfriend, 'Uncle' Barry. But she had no answer to him. She was terrified of the consequences for both Mum and her, if she didn't do what Barry demanded of her.

Kim checked to see that none of her friends were watching, then climbed into the passenger seat, dumping her bag beside her, significantly forming a barrier between her and Barry in a trivial gesture that was lost on the large, burly man behind the wheel. No words were spoken. The van moved off.

She knew the score. What 'Uncle' Barry expected. First off, the initial declaration of her subservience.

When they were in fast-moving traffic, she slipped her hands up beneath her uniform skirt and tugged down her panties as unobtrusively as she could. She could feel her ears burning in humiliation and hated herself for her inability to defy the pig. Barry smirked when she hung the small, limp garment on his gear stick.

Plain white cotton, machine-washed until they were wearing thin and the elastic was going on one side.

"Shame I missed your birthday," said Barry at last, swerving into a bus lane to pass a line of queued cars. He was horny and wanted to be there quickly. "And I missed our usual Thursday too - so I thought I'd knock off early and give you a nice surprise."

Kim stared ahead. She recognised the route. Not the yard, nor the back of the industrial estate - he was taking her to the waste ground beyond the airport.

"Got you an extra present," he added, indicating the glove compartment.

Kim opened the flap and lifted out the gift-wrapped package. There was a tag, on which Barry's clumsy hand had written 'To Kim, Happy Birthday from Uncle Barry xxx'. She tried not to sneer.

"You can open it, if you like," he grinned, "I've put the batteries in, so you can use it straight away."

Kim tore open the wrapping and with trepidation, lifted the lid from the small box. Nestling in pink tissue paper was a chrome-plated vibrator, about six inches long and an inch in diameter, with a narrow, pointed tip.

Barry was enthusiastic.

"Go on, Kimberley, switch it on. When we get off the main road, hitch your skirt up and give it a try."

She couldn't do that! Bad enough the bastard should give such a disgusting thing to a young girl, but expecting her to use it on herself in the front of his van, in public! She glanced sideways. He was watching her. Her flesh crept. She had to do what he wanted.

Her cute face was a deep shade of red, and her big brown eyes were already moist with tears of shame. Barry pulled over to the side of the deserted lane: he wanted to see this. Having been forced to watch his porn videos on Thursdays, and wank him, and suck him and have his ugly great thick thing rammed up between her legs, she was no longer the naive virgin of a few months back, and so she knew precisely what she had to do to entertain him with it. She found the slide switch and the shiny tube suddenly emitted a low buzz, which took her by surprise and it slipped out of her fingers and landed in her lap. He chuckled. She slid her bottom forward on the rough, greasy seat and pulled back the hem of her grey pleated skirt, just enough to expose her soft, smooth pussy, nowadays always kept freshly shaved as Barry preferred.

Gingerly, Kim touched the minutely vibrating tip between her labia. She caught Barry's bulging eyes ranged in on her crotch. She moved the tip up and down the crack, gently prising herself open. Barry licked his lips. This was swful!

Suddenly a car appeared up the lane and Kim instinctively yanked her skirt down to her knees.

"Jesus Christ, Kimberley!" complained Barry. "I didn't say you could stop. Get your fuckin' legs open now! I want to see your new toy in action."

The small girl lifted her skirt after the car had passed. She kept the device pressed between her outer lips, with her free hand shielding it from view from the windscreen, in case another car came by. She rubbed the end over her pubic mound, and sensing Barry's impatience, gave what she hoped would be interpreted as a girlish sigh of pleasure. She had learned a lot in the past few weeks.

That was indeed enough for Barry, who restarted the van and set off for the quiet place he knew.

It was ideal - a clearing in a copse atop a small hill, with nothing close by and just the single track leading to it. He had often used it as somewhere to have a nap when he was skiving from work, but as a place to hide a van for an hour whilst he had some fun in the back with the girl, it was hard to beat.

She followed him to the rear doors, dreading the time she would be spending inside. He always seemed to find something new and disgusting.

For such a slob, he kept his van spick and span, all his tools and bits and pieces neat and tidy in racking down one side, window frames and extrusions and accessories carefully strapped to the other. And against the bulkhead and over a low chest bolted to the floor beneath, he had arranged a layer of thick foam, forming a seat and padded back. A number of steel eyelets had been bolted into the bulkhead itself. The whole van smelt of rubber gasket and adhesive and solvent and she already felt sick.

Barry sat on the chest and waited for her to undress.

Kim took her time, even though it just postponed the inevitable, carefully folding her white blouse and laying it over her smoothed out skirt on the small work bench. She could feel his eyes boring into her slim, young body. She peeled off her white socks and tucked them into her school shoes. And finally, she slipped down the shoulder straps of her plain white bra, turned it around her chest and unclipped the elastic. The gritty floor was cold and hard.

Barry surveyed her slight boobs, as if he could tell if they had swelled at all in the past week.

"Nipples," he said.

That meant she had to lick her finger and rub and flick the ends of her breasts. It was supposed to make her nipples stand out, but Kim wasn't ever convinced it made much difference. She just felt degraded.

"OK, enough. Put them on."

She knew which drawer in the tool rack contained the leather cuffs he made her wear on her ankles and wrists, when she was in the van. And the horrible collar. She wiped her finger on the side of her leg, then strapped the cuffs on herself, pulling the straps tight and tucking them in neatly as she had been shown. Next she knew to kneel in front of him, holding the collar up as an offering. It was like some foul ritual, and woe betide her if she got it wrong. He had gained plenty of experience in the past few months of beating her without leaving telltale marks that might raise eyebrows in the school changing rooms. They always hurt though.

He had been looking forward to this all day: it was always one of his favourite moments, looking down at her as the stupid little bitch held up the collar for him to fix around her neck, her lip quivering and her tiny little pointed tits rising up and down on her bony chest. Those gorgeous brown eyes lifted up, so sad, so helpless, with her knowing that he was going to abuse her tiny body any moment, and that there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

Made him rock hard every time.

Of course the bondage stuff wasn't really necessary - the small girl knew full well he had to be obeyed, she rarely struggled much any more and wouldn't have the nerve to run off. But, Man, it all looked so good on her tiny body - a scrawny little kid with proper leather gear on; and it did her good to have the odd reminder that she belonged to him.

It was Friday night. Two and a half days for any marks to fade away. He could risk a bit of rough. His jeans were already uncomfortable over his thickening erection.

"Have you missed me, Kimberley?" he asked sarcastically.

She nodded automatically.

"How?"

She was stuck for an answer. Thinking quickly, she mouthed, "I like being with you, Uncle Barry."

He guffawed. The stupid little cunt.

"You lying piece of shit!" he spat. "You know I won't have you lie to me. Get up here!"

He moved to one side, so that Kim could adopt the position. She knew she was in for a pounding. But what could she have said? She began to cry, silently.

Kneeling on the padding over the chest, she pressed her face and body against more foam, against the bulkhead. She began to raise her arms spontaneously as he would require her to do but Barry was impatient and had already grabbed her wrist and was clipping the cuff to one of the eyelets. He attached the second one, so that she was firmly fixed flat against the upright panel, with her arms held away from her body, above shoulder height.

She sensed him close behind her and before she could react, he was stuffing something dry and thick into her mouth, covering her nose until she gasped for air then shoving the cloth inside with his strong fingers. She saw a flash of pale colour and realised it was her own pants he was forcing past her lips. Barry completed the job with a piece of gaffer tape. Her heart was pounding - he didn't normally gag her. In fact he often taunted her that he liked to hear her cry and scream. Her mind raced - what was he going to do, that warranted her being gagged?

The electric sting flashing across her bottom provided the answer. The pain was so sharp and immediate, it threw her against the foam and her hips bucked wildly as the subsequent wall of hot agony engulfed her lower body. She bit hard into the fabric of her panties and screeched long and hard, which translated into an anguished girly growl by the time it reached Barry's appreciative ears.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

It was only an offcut of uPVC extrusion, small profile and very light, but highly flexible. The manufacturer would have no idea how impressive it was when applied to the slim, taut young buttocks of a thirteen-year-old girl. Barry had swung it as hard as he could, within the confines of the van, and the bitch was still writhing about and groaning two minutes afterwards. There was a prominent deep red stripe right across both cheeks, but the skin wasn't damaged in the slightest - just swollen and clearly very painful. Must be something to do with the surface area.

Barry lifted his shoulder and swung another stroke, to complement the first. It seemed to come as a surprise to him each time, the rush of pleasure he found when he hurt the little cunt.

After a dozen, she was slumped low against the bulkhead, her head twisted with her cheek against the foam and unable to kneel properly upright and writhing in pain. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were soaked in tears. She was breathing rapidly through her nose and an unattractive film of snot had covered her top lip. Her pale, velvety face was flushed, her cheeks and brow glowing and damp with perspiration. The tight wrist cuffs attached to the bulkhead were the only thing keeping her from collapsing on to the gritty floor of the van. She was shivering with the onset of shock.

He finished his inspection of her lower cheeks. The skin was hot and embossed with a haphazard grid of throbbing red welts, but remarkably, there were only two or three small patches where a number of blows had found the same place and the skin had broken. Kim moaned as his fingers explored her burning skin.

She shouldn’t have done that.

His windpipe was tight with the thrill of making her feel pain. He had to have another fix.

Barry decided to aim lower. He yelled at her to kneel up properly and once she had exposed the backs of her thighs, he let her have it again, sparing nothing. Even the sounds of her punishment were delicious - the brief whistle as the plastic arced across the van, the dull snap when it found its target, and the truly pitiful screech as the bitch screamed into her knickers.

He had not quite managed ten to the back of each leg when she passed out.

He pinched her nipple hard to see if she was faking. No reaction: she wasn't.

Releasing the cuffs, he supported her limp little body and half carried, half dragged her to the back of the van, then opened the doors and lifted her out into the mild late afternoon sunshine. He laid her on a grassy bank, on her side and tapped her cheek gently. He remembered the gag and ripped off the tape and fished around in her mouth, to extract the damp wad of cotton. The little bitch was just about breathing and his moment of concern passed quickly when her eyelids flickered. He sat beside her, smoking, as she recovered without his help.

Her distracted moan and a fit of dry coughing proved she was OK.

"Back with us, then, Kimberley?" he remarked as she opened her eyes in a look of innocent disorientation, before the raging fire in her bottom overwhelmed her senses and she became aware of her tormentor gloating at her discomfort.

"You needed a good thrashing, didn't you, you little cunt? A few days without me and you slip back into your old, naughty ways."

Kim suddenly realised she was naked and outside and despite her pain, was immediately terrified that someone might see her. She sat up and looked hurriedly about. Barry laughed at her. Something hard pricked her rear and she squealed in agony and threw herself down on her side.

"Don't worry, Kimberley. There's only us here. Nobody will see you. Or hear you. So when I fuck the arse off you in a minute, do feel free to moan as much as you like."

Barry stubbed out his cigarette and took her by her wrist cuff. He looked around the clearing.

"This is a nice spot. Come the summer I might bring you out here and fuck you alfresco, but right now, the van will do just fine. Get in there!"

He propelled her through the doors. Her narrow arse was totally red, in stark contrast to the ghostly pale of her back and lower legs, almost glowing luminescent in the odd light cast by the translucent roof panels.

"Sit!"

Kim lowered herself painfully down on to the chest, this time with her back to the inner wall, grateful for the meagre covering of foam that took the edge off the agony in her throbbing cheeks and backs of her thighs. Barry took her hands and attached the wrist cuffs to the same shackles above her head. Her head was lowered and she was still sniffling. He lifted her chin, shaking his head, and pulled out his handkerchief to mop up her face. He couldn't fuck her looking like that.

He squatted in front of her.

Barry had always been fascinated by her tiny tits. He couldn't keep his hands off them. Even when her silly cow of a mother was around, he would sneak a grope any time Kim was near.

He reached out and cradled the small, soft cones of flesh, stroking the nipples with the edges of his thumbs.

"Haven't given you a nice fuck for over a week, have I, Kimberley? I bet you're really hot for it. Is your pussy nice and wet?"

He reached down, sliding his middle finger between her labia and crooking the end to seek out her vagina.

"Oh dear. Not very moist at all. What's the matter, Kimberley? Not looking forward to a nice poke from Uncle Barry? Tell you what, why don't we use your nice new pressie?"

He fished in his back pocket for the vibrator.

Frowning at her, he added, "I think we need a bit more room to play. Lift your leg."

She groaned as the foam chafed her bottom. As the skin on the back of her thigh tightened, yet more waves of pain raged in her rear. He took her proffered ankle and swung it high above her shoulder, attaching the cuff to a second eyelet below the one supporting her wrist. Much better. And when her other leg was similarly raised, he had her just how he liked, with her thighs spread wide and the two dark little holes of her anus and vagina completely unencumbered and accessible. She reminded him of a little pink bat, the way she was suspended from the bulkhead, her head slumped miserably down on her chest.

She met his eyes briefly, with a resigned, mournful expression.

"If I didn't know better, Kimberley, I'd say you weren't enjoying yourself," he remarked with leaden irony. "So ungrateful - not many girls your age are lucky enough to have a man ready to spend time looking after their physical pleasure. Maybe we'll have to warm up that dear little pussy of yours first?"

He reached for the length of PVC and brandished it against her unguarded crotch. Kim's mouth fell open and she muttered a faint 'no', in a broken, plaintive and childish voice that had Barry's heart skip a beat. He had a sudden mental picture of an even smaller, much younger Kim, and for a moment pondered how much fun it would have been if he had known the girl when she was, say, seven or eight. She was undeniably a great little fuck now - but what would it have been like then? So much smaller, tighter. Bet she would have screamed a lot then.

But the absolute terror in her eyes was reward enough and his mind returned to the real world. He was a past master at this game. For weeks, he had kept the little cunt on the edge, terrifying her enough to keep her quiet, and totally compliant. Never going too far, and always leaving her guessing, letting her own nightmares do the work.

He smiled and put aside the offcut.

"I wouldn't do that to you, my love. Oh Kimberley, how could you think I would be so horrid as to hit your lovely little cunt, just when I know you're desperate for me to give you a nice hard fuck? Now, where were we?"

Barry held the tip of the vibrator to her lips.

"Oh yes - show me some the nice things you sometimes do to my cock."

The frantic crease in her brow relaxed. Kim opened her lips and her small, wet tongue lapped the smooth chrome.

"Well done. Show me how good you are. And make it nice and wet, because in a minute, we're going to let it explore... down there," he joked, gesturing comically between her legs.

The small girl closed her eyes and let her mouth perform on the unresponsive cylinder. He loved to see her shapely lips and athletic tongue in action, preferably on the end of his dick, but this was getting him going. When he judged the vibrator was sufficiently moistened by her saliva, he flicked it on and immediately held the tip in the centre of her dark, puckered anus.

No way! Despite everything, that actually felt good. She was at the same time disgusted and intrigued. At least when she kept her eyes shut and didn't have to see bloody Barry and his stinking van. Sometimes it could feel nice for a while, even when she was being made to do things against her will, and although at first she condemned herself for any positive feelings whatsoever when Barry was abusing her, Kim had eventually found a compromise with herself. The deal she struck was that if ever had a nice feeling, it was her own business, a way at sticking two secret fingers up to Uncle Barry. She didn't think he wanted her ever to be happy and so what the heck? Why not make the most of any nice feeling she might have?

The vibrator tickled and as he pushed it against the resistance of her sphincter, the buzzing feeling replaced the aching throbbing in her buttocks and she found herself squeezing her vaginal muscles. The thing was so smooth, and not too big and it wasn't particularly unpleasant when Barry eased it deep into her rectum. The vibrations were right inside her, and she thought she could feel them in all sorts of hidden places. Her bottom felt good again. Her clit was tingling. She squeezed inside once more, rippling her private muscles and that too was very nice.

His sadist's radar detected her pleasure. Barry smirked patronisingly.

Why not? Let the little cunt have some fun for a change. But not too much.

He moved the vibrator in and out of her bottom, carefully searching her calm, beautiful young face for the tiny changes of expression that signalled her level of satisfaction. He let the tip roam further, down to her pussy, and over the spongy softness of her labia, over the trim, taut thinness of her inner lips. Pushing her hood aside, he let it sit lightly on the shiny pale outline of her little clitoris, pausing until her mouth slackened and her breathing sharpened and her eyebrows twitched in response to the arousal that was building up inside her. Then he inserted in her vagina.

This was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Kim didn't masturbate much any more. Barry's attentions had put her off that sort of thing, but sometimes in the wonderful solitude of the bathroom, or under her duvet, she would occasionally let her hand stray and imagine how good it could be. Without Uncle Barry. But this was quite different.

She could sense her own wetness, even without peering down her own folded and curled body to see for herself. In the silence of the van, she could even hear it - over the constant buzz of the vibrator, a sticky ticking each time the thing pushed and pulled at the moist membranes as it slipped easily in and out of her cunt.

It was weird. How could she feel so good, when it was bastard Barry doing this to her? She shivered. Just a tad. Her whole vagina tingled and felt so wet.

Barry shifted forward. The girl had opened her eyes part way. Her glazed expression was intriguing, trancelike.

She could smell her own juices! It was driving her mad - she so wanted to squeeze her thighs together, but her ankles were clamped to the damned van. Put it back on my clit, you arsehole! For Christ's sake, I want to clamp my knees together! She was determined not to let Barry see her incredible frustration. He had angled the vibrator so that the buzzing was right against the roof of her pussy and was just moving it back and forth a little way, stretching the mouth of her cunt and delivering wave after wave of tiny vibrations right into the root of her clit. It felt alight! She willed the muscles in her vagina to embrace the hard metal, to crush it, and suck every last tingle it had to offer. She could feel them everywhere inside her body.

He had never known her so wet. Her whole cunt was glistening with it. She looked at him, but he knew she wasn't really seeing him. Her jaw was quivering and he could hear the short little intakes of her breath. Even Barry couldn't stop her now. Her heavy eyelids drooped and opened constantly. He could see the tip of her tongue, stroking her top lip.

Kim was aware of Barry, but she couldn't give a stuff about him. At that precise moment there was nothing of the slightest interest beyond the intense warm glow pulsating deep in her tummy.

The horny little bitch was about to come! A proper one. Fuck me!

She closed her eyes and rode the waves of pleasure. It didn't matter that she was naked and half-hanging from the end of bloody Barry's van, that she was only thirteen and a big hairy man was shoving a vibrator, uninvited, up her cunt. It didn't even matter that he had beaten her half-unconscious and was going to rape her any minute. All that mattered was the fantastic, mind-blowing explosion of sheer ecstasy that was consuming her body.

She shook. She gave out an almost inaudible long, breathy moan. She half-opened her eyes and her quivering lips almost smiled.

Barry nearly came himself.

He watched her climax, spellbound. Such a tiny little girl, rapt in total sexual pleasure. Incredible! She had earned his grudging admiration.

He eased the vibrator from her sopping wet cunt. Kim was still panting, her head on one side. No time like the present. Barry unfastened his jeans.

It was only when she felt his penis against her crotch that she was jolted from her reverie. He was going to enter her. His face was over her own, a big grin on it. Her groin was warm and tingly and the sensation of her pussy being filled by cock was not too bad.

No! What was she thinking? This was bastard Barry!

That felt so good. His cock just slipped inside, gripped lightly by her wet little cunt. A bit of pushing and yes, he had it all inside her tiny body. Fantastic.

Barry liked this position the best. Apart from the visual titillation of having her spread and defenceless, clipped to the bulkhead, it was just right for fucking her good and proper. He could get so deep inside her, so that when he pumped away, he could feel the end of his cock banging against her cervix. She would not have liked that, which was just fine by him. He wasn't in the business of making it good for her - normally pleasure was his right alone. Today was a one-off.

He could push down on her clit, crushing the base of his cock hard against it, with all his weight if he wanted.

And he could look at her as he fucked her. Enjoy the domination. Remind himself just how lovely and young and small she was.

Which is what he was now doing. Banging the crap out of her.

"You fucking horny little bitch, Kimberley. I never told you you could come. You randy little cunt!"

He was really thumping into her - the van rocked on its suspension. He punctuated his brutal thrusts.

"You... dirty... little... bitch!"

Both were panting. Barry from the exertion of slamming hard up inside her, Kim from the constant pressure of his huge bulk bearing down on her small, bent body. She grunted weakly with each stroke. He was ramming his thing high up into her tummy and it was hurting. The glow from her clit was replaced by shooting pains - she was so sensitive there that the constant grinding of his hairy cock was making her very tender. Kim shuddered as another sharp spasm tore through her. She prayed he would finish soon.

And to her immense relief, he did. He was into the short strokes, and the muscles under his balls were aching and ready to perform, when it dawned on him that in the excitement of bringing the little bitch to her first proper orgasm, he had clean forgotten to stick on a condom. The prospect of knocking her up was a constant nagging worry to him.

He cursed. Her face was creased in discomfort. His cock was slipping in and out of her tight, wet cunt like a dream. He felt so good.

And he had forgotten to put on a fucking rubber!

Angrily, he wrenched his dick out of her. He put his hands on the bulkhead and leaned over her.

"Suck it, bitch!" he yelled in frustration, tapping the side of her head when she failed to respond instantly. Hurry up you little fucker, I’m about to do it.

This would be a very bad time to upset him, she thought. She opened her lips wide and he stuffed the big, slippery thing into her mouth. The taste was strong: both his and her own distinctive flavours and smells. She closed her mouth around it and he immediately started thrusting back and forth. With her head trapped against the steel panel, she was worried that he would push too hard, and block her throat. But her fears were short-lived when a thick mass of liquid filled the voids in her mouth. He stopped moving and there was more and more of it, filling her cheeks, coating her tongue, oozing to the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and quick. Five or six times in quick succession, to get rid of it as soon as she could.

Barry would much rather have come deep inside the little cunt. But this had been a reasonable consolation. He was knackered. His balls felt drained, and the end of his dick was just too tender to leave in her mouth. He pulled out and stood up, stretching away the nagging ache in his back from being bent over her.

He could see some of his spunk still on her tongue as she gasped, open-mouthed. A thin dribble of semen and spittle crept from the corner of her mouth. Beautiful.

For a couple of minutes, both Kim and 'Uncle' Barry were separately occupied by the process of coming down from their post-coital euphoria, Barry leaning on his bench, recovering, watching his cock grow soft and dabbing it with tissue, and Kim suffering the return of her pain - the tenderness of her inflamed bottom exacerbated by the constant grinding of the heavy man, and now supplemented by the over-sensitised tissue of her clitoris and the unrelenting tightness of the cuffs, digging into her wrists and ankles. She moaned at the relentless assault on her senses. Barry looked over to her - she was in a state: hot, flushed, with a creased expression of resignation disfiguring her sweet face. Her vagina was still partly dilated, her labia puffy and red, and the entire surface of her crotch was glossy with her fluids.

Nice one, he admitted. Better than her bitch of a mother.

Barry needed a fag. He stepped out of the van and yawned. It was a great evening - mild and fine. He had a wad of cash in his pocket for tonight and his dick was hugely satisfied. Life was good. He paced about, smoking, then noticed a small rag screwed up in the dirt a way up the track. It made him smile.

The girl was relieved to have her cuffs released, although the circulation returning to her legs and arms throbbed and she developed pins and needles in her left leg. She felt so dirty, both physically and emotionally - particularly the guilt of having climaxed so wantonly in front of that scumbag, Barry. The taste of his semen was souring in her mouth. Her crotch was uncomfortable where the remaining sheen of wetness was rapidly drying with the back of the van open. The cuffs were tight. She ached all over. Barry was the ultimate bastard.

He reached for her collar and Kim had a momentary lifting of her spirits: taking these horrible things off meant she would be heading home shortly.

But he wasn't unbuckling the collar. Instead, he reached into the small drawer where her 'special kit' was stored and clipped on a long leather dog lead. Kim stared at it in disbelief.

Barry tugged on it and she stumbled and followed him outside. Please let there be nobody around. She found being naked in public as traumatic as having Barry rubbing his great paws all over her. The ground was hard beneath her bare feet.

"Down," said Barry, softly.

She frowned. What?

"On your fuckin' hands and knees!" he spat.

She jumped at his sudden change in manner and threw herself down, ignoring the scratching of the gravel on her palms and shins. Barry flicked the end of the lead and she heard the crack as it landed on her sore bottom. The stinging flash of pain followed an instant later and her eyes smarted as she yelped.

He began walking. Kim scrambled to keep up.

"Please, Uncle Barry," she pleaded. Surely after he had had his way with her, he should be in a better mood.

She shrieked as the leash slashed down on her back. No amount of scurrying away would have prevented the rain of stinging blows he vented on the back of her thighs. She squealed and begged him to stop, but he shuffled behind her, slashing the lead down on her again and again.

She scrambled on to the grass at the side of the track but her elbows gave way and she slumped on to the grass, with her rump in the air. Barry pulled the lead back above his shoulder, and unable to resist the small, battered young backside exposed so defencelessly, swung a final heavy blow as hard as he could, aiming for the soft crease where her thighs met her buttocks.

Kim's scream pierced the near-silence of the copse, causing a flurry of activity above, as startled birds launched their escape from the branches overhead.

She lay on the ground, her little body heaving with sobs as the intense pain coursed through it.

It may have been two or three minutes that she pressed herself to the cool, damp grass, her body just an aching, throbbing mass beneath her exhausted and miserable head. She felt rain start.

But it was warm, and splashed only over her middle.

Startled, she began to turn upwards, only to receive a torrent of Barry's piss right in her face. She instantly curled up, and so he sprayed her balled-up body until he was spent. The degradation had set her crying again.

"Sit up, bitch," he smirked. "You've work to do."

Kim unfurled her arm, which had been wrapped protectively over her face, and squinted up at the huge man, still stuffing his cock back in his jeans, and grinning repulsively.

He crouched and pointed to a tiny white scrap fifty yards up the track.

"Fetch," he said, trying not to laugh.

Agonisingly, she forced herself up, but as she straightened her legs, he pushed her hard enough to send her flying on to the grassy bank.

"On your hands and knees, you stupid little bitch!"

Stifling a moan, lest she provoke another lashing, she started to crawl. Barry let the leash slack and ambled behind her at a distance. His urine was cooling on her skin, and she tried to wipe the worst of it on to the grass, although she could do nothing about the wetness in her hair. Grit stuck to her arms and feet where he had pissed on her.

It was tiring. Her hands and knees seemed to find every sharp pebble, but she had to keep going. Feet away from the pale object, she recognised it as the wadded remnants of her own panties.

Barry made her crawl back to the van, with them gripped in her teeth.

He checked his watch. It was time to get back, or else that stupid cunt mother of hers would be wondering where she was, and besides, he wanted his tea. A good bellyful to prepare for the night's drinking.

Kim wiped herself on some rags in the back of the van and pulled her school clothes gingerly over her tender body. She would have to go straight to the bathroom at home, before Mum saw her. It would be fine - Barry always went a few minutes ahead of her, whilst she waited in the side alley to the back garden, and he would distract her mother.

She sat in silence in the passenger seat, remembering to lift the back of her skirt so that her poor bottom was pressed against the dirty fabric of the seat. Her filthy, wet knickers were screwed up in her schoolbag. Her nose wrinkled at her own stench.

The scumbag kept looking across at her, half sneering, half smiling, mocking her utter despair and self-pity.

Barry pulled the van up a few yards short of the house, to let her out. When the van was stationary, he turned to her. She waited for his instruction to get out. He was fiddling in his pocket and held up the small chrome vibrator.

Despite herself, Kim's heart skipped a beat. Her present! The one good thing about the past couple of hours. She hated to admit it, but she was looking forward to consoling herself with it in the privacy of her own bedroom and was wondering where she could keep it concealed from Mum.

'Uncle' Barry was watching her reaction. The little cunt shouldn't ever try to play poker. That momentary twinkle in her eye, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Horny little fucker.

"OK, out you get, Kimberley. Give it five minutes."

Her eyes unavoidably strayed towards the gleaming tube.

"I think I'd better look after this for you, Kimberley. It wouldn't do for Mum to come across it and anyway - you should be saving yourself for me," he grinned, pleased with his tease and delighted at that unmistakeable flicker of angry frustration that swept over the young girl's sweet face when he dropped the vibrator into his shirt pocket.

She dared to slam the door harder than necessary.

You’re a total fucking bastard, 'Uncle' Barry.