BEYOND TIED FOR PUNISHMENT

BY YOCOPYCAT

[ part 4 ]

Tuesdays

I was out innocently bird-watching when all this started. It was seeing my target spiraling down to its nest on the other side of a low garden wall that drew me over the wall as a trespasser on private property and to the startling sight of a little girl lying spread out on her back on a lawn, naked.

WOW! I am a timid man, but I gathered up my courage sufficiently to creep nearer and nearer, hiding among the shrubs that flanked the lawn. I am a voyeur by nature, and I freely admit that little girls are my passion. The highlight of my humdrum existence thus far had been seeing my nieces in the bath, and that had only happened once, and even then I did not dare reach out that little way and touch their glistening wetness as they splashed around in the bath with no idea of the turmoil they caused in my head...

I was close enough now to see that the child on the lawn was not just lying there - she was staked out, held down by wrist and ankle cuffs looped over tent pegs, unable to move. Her arms and legs had been spread out as erotically as was possible, like a four-pointed star. Spread-eagle, I think, is the correct term. She had a beautiful little body and an interesting face. Faces are very important to me. This face was rather Oriental I would say, and the body was already quite brown. Surely she would not be left out in the sun alone for long? I determined to make the best of this unexpected treat while it was there. The lawn was some way from the house, separated by a paved yard, and I thought I could perhaps touch the child and still escape over the wall again if I was seen.

I crept closer still. I wondered if she was being punished or browned, because her little-girl legs were stretched wide. Really tightly wide. I could see - well, everything, like when my nieces stood up in the bath for my sister to dry them. So there she lay, pegged out, unable to move, almost within touching distance. Only my own fear held me back. I could even touch her THERE, except she was sure to scream. I think she was eight or nine years old, but I am no expert on little girls despite my unhealthy interest in them, so that is only a guess.

Then I saw that she was gagged! Was that just so her Mother would not be disturbed if she cried? Or was this some sort of punishment? In any case, the Mother or whatever must be very cruel or very unfeeling towards this unfortunate child. All the safer to touch, as her screams would not be heard. In fact, my evil mind suggested, I might even lie on her and rub up and down, pretend I was fucking her.

She had seen me now. She was frightened. I felt the pressure at my crotch tightening. Then I saw her look towards the house. She had sharper ears than me. I was back among the bushes before her Mother could see me.

The woman who approached was tall, slim and quite attractive. She stood hands on hips looking down at the child. "Half way done, Jess," she said, "time to tenderize you." She was carrying a plastic bag and a little strap, or maybe it was a small belt, and flourished it before the child's eyes. Maybe it was a razor strop. Something like that. Then she emptied the bag out onto the grass and I saw it was pieces of broken crockery.

The woman slipped the wrist and ankle cuff cords from the pegs and pulled the child to her feet by her long black hair. Then she clasped the poor creature to her and beat her exposed bottom with the strap! The blows went relentlessly on and on and on, producing only splutterings from the child because of the gag, but judging by the solid sound of the thwacks and the child's frantic struggles they were very painful.

I confess that seeing a helpless young girl being beaten turned me on far more powerfully than I had anticipated. I presumed it was part of a legitimate parental punishment session for breaking valuable crockery, none of my business. Anyway, I remained hidden. To tell the truth I was too scared to do anything else.

When at last the woman had finished beating the child, she pegged the poor thing down again, this time with her reddened little bottom up and squirming. Now she picked up a piece of broken crockery and pushed it under the girl's crotch, despite her frantic squirmings. And another and another until the twitching little bottom was actually raised from the ground. Then she marched away back to the house, humming to herself, pleased, as if she had done something clever.

I came out and knelt beside the little girl. She looked round at me in unspoken appeal. She was in real pain from the crockery. The join in her legs, where she was spread so wide, rested on it. And it was quite jagged. Her - you know - her little slit stood out, exposed as it could be, raised up and open, inviting my fingers...

Yes, I reached out and touched her, depraved creature that I am. To my eternal shame I took several minutes exploring her intimately, just as she was. I delighted in her wriggling. Then at last I took the crockery from under her and scattered it around her as if it had worked loose, which it would never have done however much she struggled. She gave me a grateful look. It was absolutely undeserved. I knew very well that if I stayed there I would molest the poor child shamefully, maybe even…

So I jumped up and ran. I ran from my wicked thoughts. I ran off home in shame and came twice in my trousers in the car on the way, and several times later. I could not get the image of a naked little girl pegged out on green grass out of my mind. I knew I should have released her. Maybe I could have brought her to my lonely country estate and hidden her here and treasured her. Shame on you, Matthew, you rotten coward. And used her. Shame on you Matthew for a rotten pervert.

After a fortnight of erotic images and remorse and solitary masturbation I determined at last that I had to do something. But what?

One fateful Tuesday I plucked up courage enough to park the car near the front of her house and sit there pretending to read a newspaper. It was only a couple of hours before she and her mother came out and starting walking towards the bus stop. The child looked ever so erotic in a very short coat and sandals. I noticed that she had not one but two collars round her slim neck, and wondered why? She also still had on the wrist and ankle cuffs that I had been used to peg her out on the lawn: these, taken with the collar, made for a very erotic look, and I did see a few heads turn. Her carriage was superb - had she been taught ballet, I wondered? Altogether a most enticing little bundle, and she was in dire need of a friend if what I had seen already was anything to go by.

I followed the bus, and they dropped off by the supermarket. I had no idea what to do next. I parked the car where I thought they would pass me when they came out, and waited. I just wanted to see the child again. I had quite an erection, thinking of her in the supermarket, her long slim brown legs beneath the short coat and the peculiar collars round her neck. And the cuffs, because I knew what they were for. And knowing that her mother beat her. Maybe beat her hard and often, tied down and helpless. It was only later that I learnt that her Mother seldom beat her. It was usually her Father.

I was daydreaming and nursing a shameful erection when they walked past me. I opened the car door in that instant of panic without a thought of the consequences - and knocked the little girl down! As she lay there on her back her coat slipped a little and I caught a glimpse of naked genitals - was she naked beneath that short coat?

She covered herself quickly but I very nearly exploded! I don't think her mother noticed my strange behavior but it must have been a near thing. I had a big damp patch now, and was confused and, I suspect, blushing deeply.

As the child scrambled to her feet, her mother was looking me up and down, taking in the car and my suit and my expensive wrist-watch and everything. "Well," she said, "poor Jessica is crying, look. How could you do that to her, you callous brute? Have you no feelings for children? The least you can do is give us a lift home and kiss her better where you hurt her bum."

I was astounded. And hooked, of course, as, I now realize, that evil woman had intended from the start. The bit about kissing the little girl on the bum had really got to me. Would I really be allowed to do that? She was still crying and I could swear she actually remembered me, but if so she said nothing and neither did she. I nearly gave myself away by driving to their house without asking where they lived, I was so much on edge.

Anyway, they directed me to the back yard, between the house and the big lawn. I parked there and escorted the ladies into the house.

The mother put her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "Now Jess," she said, "this kind gentleman -"

"Matthew," I said.

"Uncle Matthew will kiss your sore bum better while I make him some coffee." With that she thrust the child into my arms and left the room. A soft rosebud mouth was turned up to mine, ready to be kissed, so first I did that. She kissed me back really nicely, using her little tongue as I fancy she had been taught already. I was amazed, but it could not go on without an explosion. I stood her up.

She took her coat off shyly, without being told. I was really enchanted. And when the coat was off I found that the flimsy little dress she wore was terribly short and she had no panties. I was unable to speak, I just tugged her over my lap, delightful little bottom up, ready for my kiss. Or a smack! There were faintest traces of previous beatings, an absolute turn-on. My lips touched that warm flesh and my tongue came out. A jolt ran through me. I was totally disgusted with myself! I jumped up, spilling her in a heap on the floor just as he mother walked in.

"Jennifer!" she shouted. "You ungrateful little brat! To reject your Uncle Matthew when he is only trying to comfort you! Corner, this instant! Your father will be very angry."

She scrambled to her feet and scampered to the corner, then stood there very upright, facing us, feet apart, her hands clasped on top her head, shockingly exposed to our gaze, sobbing.

"I better go now," I said. "I am ashamed of my dark desires. I will never come back and upset her again."

"Quite so," the dreadful woman said calmingly. "So you go and her father will beat her tonight. He will be really angry that she has driven you away and give her a real good thrashing. I think she would much prefer you to beat her."

"Me?" I said in amazement. "Me beat her? Like that, do you mean, no panties? Would you allow that?"

"Of course!" she said. She actually said that, with the poor child listening. "You can take her home with you right now," she continued, "and do whatever you wish to her. Anything! Absolutely anything. The little bitch deserves everything she gets. It is just a matter of coming to an arrangement about her."

"An arrangement?" I still had not understood the plot.

"It is just a matter of money," she said

Just a matter of money! What a monstrous thought. What a tempting thought. Money is what I have an excess of. Money, yes. Dark desires about little girls, more than I had realized before. Beating her? I realized how much I would like to, beat her, kiss her, fondle her, fuck her. Courage to do those terrible things? I had none whatever. But looking at it as a matter of money? I could go for that.

"Five hundred dollars," she depraved woman said. "Every Tuesday. On Tuesdays Jess will belong to you. In term time you can pick her up from school and take her back next morning. No restrictions, she is absolutely yours when you have her. If beating her is what you want to do, just do it."

She saw I was tempted. She had me weighed up real good. I realize now that she had done right from the time I opened the car door and saw Jessica sprawled at my feet. "Three months in advance," she said. "Do you have your check book with you?" It sounded like rent. I suppose it was. I was about to rent the body of this sweet innocent child with intent to abuse her.

I looked down at Jess, who had stayed where I had dropped her. She looked up tearfully.

"Well?" said the woman. How I despised her for selling her daughter. And any man who would enter into such a bargain… I raised the child to her feet. "Go sit in the car while I talk with your mother."

"Can I bring my kitten?"

I looked at her mother. "Take the bloody thing," she said, "and don't bring it back."

So there I was at the wheel of the car, my hands shaking so I could hardly drive. Besides me sat a little girl dressed an indecent dress, holding a mewing kitten in her arms. A girl who was mine for the night, with permission from her Mother to beat her - or, she had said, anything else! Knowing me for the pervert I am, she had still arranged this. It was unbelievable, until I glanced at the child beside me and realized it was true.

"Uncle Matthew?" she said timidly.

"What is it, my dear?"

She was quiet for a moment. I do not think she was used to being addressed kindly. "Can we afford some cat food?" she ventured at last.

"Sure," I said. "Anything else we need?"

"Well a collar for Kitty would be nice. One with a bell in case we lose her. She is the bestest friend I have."

So I did a little shopping for the kitten on the way home. I was touched that she had asked nothing for herself. I determined to buy her some decent clothes - but not today. I would enjoy her as she was today. How much more depraved can you get? I am not proud of these things I am telling you. Far from it.

"Maybe you should buy a belt?" she said. "Unless you have one at home. The one Daddy uses on me is on the wall in my bedroom. He says it should be the last thing I see every night and the first thing in the morning." She was developing into quite a chatterbox, none of the stammering I had heard at her house. "Shall I have my own room in your house? Or shall I sleep in your bed? I forgot to bring my nightie."

"You shall sleep in my bed," I said, ”and as you have no nightie I won't wear pajamas."

"Right then," she said cheerfully, "that's fair but where will Kitty sleep? Oh, is that your house." We had just swept round the last curve of the tree-lined estate road. "Oh, isn't it pretty!" Just like that. She was to sleep with me, it seemed, no nightie, no protest, no fuss at all, the matter of a belt to beat her with forgotten. No wonder I had a hard-on as we pulled up at the front door.

"Shall I keep my dress on?" she asked as we entered the hall. "Or do you want me without it, ready for the beating?"

"Keep it on for now," I said. It made little difference, it was so thin and so short, but I thought it a little more erotic than having her naked. I was glad I keep a warm house. I locked the front door behind us, put the key in my pocket, and took her by the hand. She came down the passage with me without any sign of resistance. "Let's find a nice place for Kitty to sleep first, and give her her dinner. This is the kitchen, will it do?"

"Oh yes, Kitty loves kitchens, but Mother won't allow her in ours. Ooh, isn't this one lovely? Much bigger than ours. Shall I cook for you tonight? I can cook all sorts of things." She started opening drawers and cupboards. "Wow, I do like your house so far, Uncle Matthew."

"You can cook for us," I said. "If you would really like to."

"Yes," she said doubtfully. "But how hard will you beat me if you don't like it?"

"Oh Jessica!" I exclaimed. "What sort of monster do you think I am?"

"A nice one, I think," she said, finger to lip, head on one side. "the sort of monster who might not beat me if I break something … why you are quite cuddly, Mister Monster." She was laughing at me. I am rather the plump type. "Can I explore the rest of the house?" she asked in sudden fright, as if I might be cross.

"Sure. Nobody else lives here."

"Just one person except two people on Tuesdays! Lovely!"

"Wait till I beat you, young lady. I am going to, you know, after your bath." I had paid enough for the privilege and intended to enjoy it. I intended to put away my scruples and be merciless. I intended to wash her slowly all over, especially her private places, and then thrash her until she was really sobbing. And then I would comfort her in bed…

"Look, Uncle Matthew," she said. "I know that people enjoy to beat me. But I don't mind with you, because you are different, you don't call me bad names, I think you might even get to like me one day. So beat me as much as you like. I can take it, you know. There is no way you can beat me the way my parents do, because they hate me!" She burst into tears. "I am a hateful little cunt, a rotten worthless little half-caste slit-eye, they told me, they told me and told me and told me, nobody will ever love me, never, never, never!"

Her earnest little speech was a revelation. She hit me right in the heart and it opened a doorway in my mind. "Oh Jessie!" I said. "essie1 Jessie! I love you! I do - I do - I love you already - come here you gorgeous little brat!"

She jumped into my arms and her sobbing turned quickly to smiles as she kissed me frantically. Lovingly! She had believed me, as she should. She truly had someone to love her at last and she would love that person back, beatings or not, abuse or not, so starved had he been of affection! I knew that she was mine, mine to cherish, mine to command, mine to enjoy to the full. To the full? Oh yes, but not today, if I can resist the temptation. It would be better if Jess and I have time to develop what looks like being a most interesting relationship a little further first.

Is there really no limit to my depravity? Perhaps I shall report again later, or in a few weeks.