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FOUNDLING: AN EVENTFUL WEEKEND [ part 1 ] It was Friday. For the working class it was time to cash the inadequate paycheck. And after paying all the bills, hope for enough to pick up a "Two Four" of beer to eke through the weekend. For the rich it was simply another day of clipping coupons, lining up the perfect golf game and deciding which tax deductible corporate box to plant their well tanned bodies in with the right people on side. For students, especially the students of that particular strict downtown middle school in that particular strict town. It was sports day. The boys in their white "T" Shirts, blue shorts, white socks and black running shoes it was the manly sports of football, lacrosse, track and field, baseball and soccer. The girls in their white blouses, white pleated skirts, white ankle socks and white tennis shoes it was track, archery, javelin, field hockey and the pistol range. "You must be joking" Foundling thought as her class lined up behind the concrete embankments of the outdoor pistol range. "They are going to let these little girls shoot guns? As she studied her classmates. I thought it was a boy thing" A female instructor, who reminded her of Mavis appropriated one girl per concrete archway and instructed them to put on the large plastic earmuffs and check their weapons. Foundling finally managed to get the big plastic things to stay on her ears, but had no idea what to do with the automatic pistol lying on the wide concrete wall in front of her. "Clear" And foundling heard metallic clicks "Load" And more clicks "Aim, Fire one round" And Foundling jumped as nineteen pistols fired. "Aim, Fire one round" And jumped again as nineteen pistols fired again. "A red flag caught her eye from the white square about a half a football field away. "Number seven, why did you not fire?" Someone inquired. Foundling stepped back from the archway, removed her ear pieces and said; "Because I have no idea how, Mam" The instructor walked back up to were foundling stood and said; "We have been teaching little girls to shoot in this town since the First World War. Why do you not know how?" "Because I just arrived in town last Friday. Mam" Foundling respectfully replied. The instructor looked surprised; "You are Commander Evans new little girl?" "Yes, Mam" Foundling replied, face downcast. She hoped her inability to shoot a pistol had not brought any shame on her new master. "Then we will have to make sure your pistol skills are worthy of our Police Commander" She smiled and rubbed foundlings head. "I will arrange for you be at the range for the entire day every Friday" :"Oh, wonderful" thought Foundling. "And if they discover Mavis, the crack shot, is to be his wife, I will be here every day" But Fridays to not always work out Working stiffs can climb the money ladder, and the rich can find them selves out on the street with a corporate shakeup or an unwise investment in an Enron debacle. And a school sport day can be brought to an end by an errant backhoe digging into a gas main were a leaking water pipe was supposed to be. Just before lunch a line of uniformed police swept across the sports fields herding the students away from their school and towards a line of yellow school buses. Foundlings class was directed to their own class numbered bus with its metal screen covered windows. Climbed aboard, the driver's aid handcuffing each girl behind her back as she entered, as usual. As they were shackled by their ankles to their seats, as usual, Foundling looked out the window and realized two important things. Every one of the policemen was a female and only their bus had screened windows and chained passengers. "She was in a very unusual town, in a very unusual school, and in a very unusual class" But then again, her master was the Chief of Police, her fellow sex slave, his assistant and she was actually having a relatively great time. These minor inconsistencies could be ignored, as she was, for the first time in her young life. Well-clothed, well-fed, well chained and well fucked at the same time. Just then a very pretty taller young blond girl was chained up beside her. When the aid moved back to the front of the bus, she turned and in a softly foreign accent inquired. "You must be Foundling" I am Sylvettia, the new girl in your class. My mast, I mean my Parents have just moved in to the area. He is an importer of goods from Russia and we will be living in sunny California from now on." "You must live near me as we are chained according to our being delivered home" She went on. Foundling turned to look at the pretty round face topped by a head of very blond hair wrapped up in pigtails and the rest swept into a bun on top of her head. She wore a brand new school uniform instead of the sports day one. "Dam, this is the prettiest little girl I have ever seen" Thought Foundling, and I'm supposed to be a beauty" "My name is Foundling and I live in the big old stone farm house on Nebo Road with the red Dutch stile roof" "Yes I live in the newly built Adobe style dacha about a mile before yours" The little girl smiled. "And I'll bet you are a sex slave just as the rest of us in Mistress Vicki's class are too I have discovered" Foundling thought as she smiled back. "This entire area or some very influential members of it are fully aware of our status. Females are both property and gun carrying enforcers of the law here. I wonder if it is at the same time." She mused. Eventually they arrived at Sylvettia's new home. Were an older version of the new girl awaitted her just inside the fancy wrought iron gate set in an imposing wrought iron fence. This one wore a simple Russian peasant outfit of white long sleeved top gathered at neck and wrist, and dark, ankle length skirt. As the two moved off, foundling saw the older girl had bare feet. "That one is an older sister, not a mother, unless she had her when she was three" Foundling thought. "Last, but not least" Remarked the bus guard as he first unlocked Foundlings ankles then, just before she stepped down, her wrists. There is someone home so you had better get your pretty little ass inside" He chortled, swatting her on the rear as she started to disembark. Foundling turned her head, smiled and provocatively wiggled her tight little ass as she walked off. Foundling strode up the long drive to the Victorian wood front porch and applied her thumbprint to the plate beside the black painted doorway. Next she withdrew a triagonal key from the chain hanging between her slightly swelling breasts and opened the steel front door. She repeated the procedure on the inner door Finally inside; Foundling was greeted by silence. Puzzling since both adults unmarked police cars were in front of their respective garage doors. Foundling checked the kitchen, dinning room, living room, and actually was elated when the bedroom was empty too. "Where could two reasonable, well as far as I an owner and one of his two submissive female sex slaves are concerned, be?" She thought. The basement? It took about a dozen similar doors before Foundling located the one behind the main stairs that led down. But disappointment awaitted her as the large fieldstone walled basement. It held only piles of dusty boxes, a new furnace and water heater. Not a single shackle hung from the very inviting ceiling beams. Nor any torture devices in evidence. "What a waste of a perfectly good dungeon" Foundling thought. A mystified Foundling them climbed the main stair to the, as yet unused second floor. An empty dusty corridor led to empty dusty rooms. Confused, foundling climbed the narrowing stairs to the loft under the Dutch roof. She was greeted with an even dustier great expanse of open space created by that style of roof. "We could play basketball up here" She thought. Tired from the search, Foundling walked through the dust to a wide window looking out the back of the house. Across fields of rough grass was an ancient barn. A flash of remembrance struck Foundling. Mavis had been the one who recounted her whipping to Master Evans. She remembered a wry smile had crossed his face when she had described the structure. Foundling had been the only one he could use. As Mavis's body was just to sore from the event. He had literally fucked her brains out that night. Mounting her three times, and sending the little sex slave into throws of ecstasy. But Foundling shed a tear when she realized it had been the mental picture of Mavis's torture that had driven him, not Foundlings sexual ability that night. An angry Foundling raced down the stairs and using her key unlocked the two rear doors. Her worst fears were realized when she saw the path beaten through the rough grass towards the far barn. Running as fast as her little legs could drive her, she soon arrived panting at the ancient barn door. As her mind debated whether to open the doors or to discover if they were inside or slink away back to the house and have a good cry. The sounds of leather striking bare skin came to here ears. Whap! Whap!, Whap!, Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! A seemingly endless series of strikes echoed in her mind. Each punctuated by a female's voice screaming as loud as she could. Foundling cringed. She had forgotten how painful a master's whipping could be. Her age, size and sexual proclivity had so far exempted her from one. But she was getting older and no longer the only available sex slave. And obviously not his favorite. A devastated Foundling slunk along the old barn wall, heading back to the house, when she spotted a hole in the barn walls. The little distraught girl slipped through the rough hole and burrowed through a dusty pile of straw. Peeking out from under the pile she saw Mavis hanging just as she had that evening. Her outstretched limbs bound wide to a heavy double horse yoke strung from the rafters. Her pain racked body was sweating profusely as her master piled damp straw on the already heavy old wooden wagon wheel her outstretched ankles were chained to. But Foundling saw he had made an innovation. The wheel she was chained to was sliding over another wheel still attached to the shaft pointing straight up. But he had sharpened the shaft with an axe, but only enough so that it barely touched her sex. If he either lowered her down or stretched her down far enough, she would be impaled on it. He reached back and again the leather belt sang out. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! "I decide who gets to give me pleasure and who gets punished. It is never your turn. Only mine" Do you understand sex slave?' "Yes" Whap! Whap! Whap! "Yes What?" "Yes, my master" She screamed. Foundling very carefully withdrew back through the hay pile and out the hole in the wall. She then boldly marked up to the barn door and knocked loudly. "Are you two perverts in there?" "School was let out early for the weekend and I have searched the entire house for you. Is this really the barn we were captive in?' The door swung open and a disheveled Mavis was thrust out. "He is through with me and has ordered it is your turn" She haltingly told her in a croaking voice. Up close Foundling was ashamed she had spied on her torture. Mavis was holding her torn blouse closed with one hand and her torn skirt up with the other. He must have literally torn her clothes off. She had been traumatized by his hard usage and her eyes were swollen from both crying and the strain of his torture. Foundling trembling crept into the barn and slowly drew up to were the large wooden yoke hung. Her Master was no were in sight. Foundling looked up at the suspension gear and down at the impaling device her master had created. "Strip" His voice came. Foundling hurriedly stripped off her clothes and stood perfectly still. "Stand under the yoke, and raise your arms." Foundling obeyed. Her flat tummy was at the height of the rough-hewn stake just in front of her. She could see it was glistening with Mavis's vaginal juices. She felt his nude body against her back as he bound her slim wrists to the yoke with the same chains Mavis wore. His contact was gone, and seconds later Foundling moaned as she was hauled upward. The impaling spike disappeared from her view as first she was pulled up past and finally over it. He walked into her vision and she felt her ankles being chained to the upper wheel. Then she screamed out loud. A weight that was bearable for an adult female's body was nearly impossible for a little girls. "And I have not even begun to whip you yet, Foundling." His angry voice came to her ears through the pain. "If you ever try to spy on me again I will impale you on it" He threatened her. "I am not that stupid fool who was often too drunk to keep you in check. I never drink and I expect you to both fear and obey me. I alone decide when, with who and how I am to be pleasured" I have just had to teach a relatively inexperienced sex slave that lesson and am very angry I have to do the same with my very experienced one. . She screamed again as he dropped her two inches. The spike pushed up against her sex lips and the jolt of the bouncing heavy wheel almost dislocated both her shoulders and hip joints. More screams were torn from her poor mouth as his belt struck her six times. Between the pain from the whipping and the bouncing of the heavy wheel as her body jerked and strained from the whipping, Foundling almost lost consciousness. Only the extra pain from his hand holding a candle in front of her sex lips kept her awake. Some time later he let her down. And carried her limp body back to the house. Foundling awoke chained in her place at the foot of his bed. She rolled over and saw a small bowl of water beside a small bowl of food. A note was stuck in the food with a pencil. ''If you wake me tonight to unlock you so you can pee, I will have to fuck your brains out" He had written. A heart surrounded it. Foundling ate a little of the food and licked up every drop of the water. Rolled back on her side and fell into sleep with a satisfied smile on her face. |