BEYOND TIED FOR PUNISHMENT

BY YOCOPYCAT

[ part 6 ]

Tuesdays 3

Seeing Betty and Gregory's cruel treatment of their twin nine-year old adopted daughters, the same age as Jessica, had a very bad effect on her, and haunted me. I wished she had never seen Robin's brutal beating and rape, nor Wren's utterly distasteful subservience. I wanted my Jessica exactly as she had been, open and friendly, accepting unjust punishment with reasonable fortitude because she knew she could not avoid it. What I had now was a sullen withdrawn little creature with no joy in her.

Her Tuesday visits to me, despite the beatings I gave her, had become something she treasured, contact with the one person in her life who loved her, an escape from a brutal home. Anyway, the rest of this Tuesday seemed to have gone sour. Even playing with Kitty and feeding that delightful scrap of fur did not cheer her up much. I know she was brooding on what she had seen done to Robin and Wren rather than what happened to her at home, though her own treatment was quite harsh and just as unloving.

Of course seeing her walk around the house in the jacket with her arms bound up behind her back so neatly and securely was a bonus. She was really erotic like that, specially as she was naked from the waist down, succulent little buttocks wiggling as she walked, inviting the strap. I could have her go around completely naked at any time, of course, but this was far far better.

I had her stand in front of me. "Smile," I said, "or I will beat that miserable expression off your face."

It didn't work, but taking her over my lap with her arms so completely out of action was quite a new thrill. And the way her little buttocks juddered under the angry slipper, and her perfect little body squirmed upon my stiff prick, was really good. I slapped her harder and longer than I would normally have done, but it was no good. This form of restraint gave me a splendid feeling of power over her, but the spark was gone. I gave up and released her arms so that she could go and cook our evening meal, still wearing the jacket only.

As we ate I tackled her about her new attitude.

"Well," she said, "you are going to fuck me tonight."

"I am," I said, "but not like Robin was fucked. That was very nasty. I will fuck you lovingly. It will be quite different."

She pondered this. "I don't think it is fair," she said at last. "I may be the same age as Robin, but I am smaller. I don't want to be fucked yet."

"I think nine is OK," I said. "I think Robin was being fucked when she was smaller." It was entirely the wrong thing to say. Jess just clammed up after that. Another severe beating did nothing to help, so I played my trump card.

"Here is the key to the mystery door at the top of the stairs," I said. "You may open it now. And you may use anything you find there."

She scampered off, the gloom lifting a little. The mystery door had intrigued her from her first visit to me, the first time I paid her awful parents for the no-questions-asked use of her on Tuesdays. The door led to another wing of the house, a suite of rooms used by my sister when she was home. I have two nieces, one just older than Jessica and one just younger. There would be lots of toys, but I fancied that Jess would go for the clothes..

And what came scampering down those stairs half an hour later? A vision. An angel in jersey and jeans. My Jessica with a wide grin on her face. "Oh Uncle Matthew, thank you thank you," she said, leaping into my arms. "Oh it's so lovely to have proper clothes! May I wear them every time I come to see you? Panties as well? I am wearing panties! I am wearing panties!" She had a handful of panties with her and threw them in the air in exhilaration.

"But what if I want to spank you?"

"You can do it with my jeans and panties on, silly." She placed herself over my lap. "See?"

So I took advantage of the situation. I whacked her real good and hard, but it wasn't the same, even though the jeans were very tight. Not the same feel as bare flesh at all. The excitement was not there. I shook my head as I put her down. "No good," I said.

"Well I thought you did pretty well." She was rubbing her bottom ruefully.

"We will need a new command for when I want to beat you. Here it comes. Jeans off!"

A flurry of activity. In an instant she stood before me in the jersey and panties only, hands behind her back head at that slight angle she uses when she is quizzing me, the cheeky little brat.

"Jeans on!" The reverse process took longer of course, and the panties slowed her down, as they were unfamiliar to her. "I think panties are not necessary with jeans," I said. "You may wear them with dresses only, not jeans or nighties."

"OK spoilsport!" When she had finished dressing she came and gave me a lingering kiss. Delicious.

"Think of something nice for to do after clothes off," I said. "Clothes off!"

This time she was quicker, and she came to me and knelt down and started to undo my zip, then began to lick my balls. That was something she had never done before. And I did not want it so early in the evening. I am no go-at-it-all-night stud. I pushed her away roughly.

"Oh," she said. "I thought you would like that! I saw Wren licking her Dad there like her life depended on it."

"It is something I planned for later," I explained. "I want to fuck you first. It was a good idea, we will use it later. But now," I said sternly, "look at the mess you have made. Clothes all over the place."

"Oh shit!" It sounded great to me, coming from that delicate little mouth as she scrambled over my lap. Was that her fourth or fifth spanking of the evening so far? We must surely be heading for a record, I thought, as my fingers caressed those beautifully rounded little buttocks that waited all tensed-up for the slipper. They were faintly pink, still, and warm to the touch.

When I had finished she jumped up, not quite crying. I had been fairly severe, but nothing like what she receives at home. "May I go and put on a dress please?" she asked, and I sent her off happy.

She came back even happier, pirouetting in the dress she had chosen. It was a little small for her, I was gratified to see. She held up the hem to show me her panties - pale blue to match the dress. Clever girl.

"Now I am really your little niece," she said, twirling round proudly. "You can take me anywhere! Parties! The Zoo! I am niece number three."

"Number two," I said. "You come in the middle, Janet, Jessica and Janice, and I am proud of all three of you."

"I wish I could play with them. And Robin and Wren too. What a party we could have."

"Yes - but you can't keep the dress on today. You haven't earned it yet. It is nearly time for me to fuck you."

"I shall fight!"

"Well," I said, "I could whip you if I wanted, you know." I took a vicious bull whip that she had not seen before out of a drawer and showed it to her.

"Oh God, you wouldn't whip me with that?"

"I might, if you make too much fuss when I fuck you."

"Oh well!" She brightened up. "I must be good, then. Are you going to fuck me every week?"

"Yes," I said, "but we will go out and show off your dress as well and maybe have some parties… now, what shall we do until your bath time?"

"Snakes and ladders!"

"But that might go on for hours."

"Well, it might."

"I think I shall read to you," I said. I opened up my computer and read from the screen, a bondage novel I had downloaded easily and discreetly from bdsmbooks.com. It was Erica, from the Saviour library:-

Paint was peeling from the woodwork of the dingy inner-city terrace house at the end of the pathetic strip of unkempt garden. The family might well have gone away after all that publicity: neighbours get very militant when youngsters are abused, even in this foulest of London slums.

The front door was ajar. I thought I heard crying from inside, or perhaps this was an abandoned kitten. Nobody answered my knock. The noise that had disturbed me stopped abruptly, that was all.

I pushed open the creaking door. It led to a bare narrow uncarpeted passage. In front I could see into a cheerless kitchen with unwashed dishes piled high in a sink with a dripping tap. A door was half open on my left. I went in, and there she was, lying naked on her stomach on a shabby green couch, her slim body shaking with inner sobs, her face turned away from the door into a mass of gorgeous long red-gold hair, or was it auburn, it seemed to change tint with the light. Her legs were apart and bent up at the knees by the shortness of the couch, ankles crossed over a luscious little bottom.

Her arms were held high up behind her back, bound in such a way that each hand held the opposite elbow!

She drew up her legs as she turned over and sat up in alarm, an extremely pretty girl, extremely frightened. For a moment big bewildered blue eyes peeped through glorious long red hair, now falling over her face in a haze, then she jumped to her feet and scampered to a corner as far away from me as she could get, turning to face me shyly, shaking her head so that the hair swung behind her.

She had a perfect little figure, slim but nicely rounded. With her arms secured behind her so tightly she stood unnaturally erect, which drew attention to those budding breasts, so high and firm.

There was no heating or comfort in that bare room, apparently no one else in the house.

"Are you Erica?" I asked.

"Yes." It was almost a whisper. She was shrinking into the corner as if she would like to vanish into the woodwork, and she was shaking all over. She had the wide sort of mouth that so easily shows the upper teeth, and hers were good, regular and very white.

A very kissable mouth!

"Where's your step-Mother?"

"G-gone to the pub."

"Does she always leave you like this, no clothes?"

"That's so I don't run away."

"Why would you run away?"

"Because -"

"Because what?"

"Oh God!"

It was the first time I heard her blaspheme, but I decided to overlook it. This was no time to upbraid her, even for so serious a fault.

"Because what?" I asked again, gently, easing my trousers where they had tightened very inconveniently at the crotch.

"Uncle Willie -"

"Yes?"

"He's - he's coming to punish me -"

I stood up, and as she cowered away from me, caught in the corner, my eyes dwelt on her skin, so very smooth, a beautiful light brown, maybe olive, verging on golden, inviting the fingers to slide over it, all over it, to explore its shyness and secret recesses slowly and at leisure...

I licked my lips. "I think I'll wait for your step-mother," I said. After all, there are limits. "Will she be long?"

"What - what time is it?"

I looked at my watch, the one I had won at Sunday school. The thought of that should have made me turn round and walk out of that evil house, because the sight of her nakedness was doing bad things to my mind. "It's just after three," I said.

"Oh God!" she said again. Her delicate face - elfin, perhaps, one might call it - her face screwed up. She had stopped crying, but now she began to whimper: she was still pretty when she did that, it was cute, somehow appealing, and I didn't want her to stop.

"They - they'll be back any minute!" she said despairingly. This was in the days when pubs had to close at 3 o'clock.

"And your Uncle Willie is coming to punish you?" It seemed incredible. "What do you mean, punish?"

She hesitated, quiet for a moment, biting her full lower lip, as I waited for her to go on. "He - he'll beat me first, I think, and then - yes, he'll beat me with the belt I expect, he usually does."

"THE belt?" I repeated, for that was the way it had sounded.

"Yes," she said, as if it was obvious, "the leather one, the one that hangs by my bed."

"Wow!" said Jessica, "go on Uncle Matthew. "She sounds a bit like me. It was just getting exciting."

"Sorry, it will have to be next week. It is your bedtime now."

When at last she had run off, I poured myself a whisky and contemplated the bullwhip. I decided to hang it over the mantelpiece. I had seen what an effect not punishing Wren had had on her. Maybe not whipping Jessica would have a similar effect. I didn't think I would actually ever use it.

When I entered the bathroom she rose like a nymph from the soapy water and stood there, facing me, almost knee deep, with her hands held high in the air as the water ran off her shining body, steaming. She peeped up at me slyly, knowing very well how much I would enjoy running my hands over her splendid little body.

After I had indeed enjoyed myself for a while I turned her round, brought her arms down, and fitted the harness. Now she stood in the bath with her arms strapped up high behind her - she looked from the front to have no arms at all, so cunning was the device.

"Are you ready for your fucking?" I asked, and she started to cry. What a delicious sight she was, standing armless in the bath and crying. I lifted her out, then carried her squirming form to the living room and dried her at my leisure.

"Corner!"

She stood there in the familiar legs apart, but of course she could not put her hands on top of her head, while I prepared rest of the equipment. It looked pretty scary and she looked pretty scared. When it was ready, I treated myself to a sip of wine, and then did as Gregory had shown me with poor little Robin - I took Jessica by the hair and marched her backwards into position, then tripped her into it backwards.

And there she was. It had worked splendidly. I secured the strap over her chest and stood back. She looked splendid like that, flat on her back, legs kicking, totally at my mercy, crying already. I worked the inclining mechanism until she was at the correct angle, then lay on her. Great. I could easily fuck her like that, and her struggles did indeed turn me on mightily, but I decided to proceed to the next stage.

Legs up! I did them one at a time, fastening them to the apparatus level with her head but wide, on the cross bar, as Gregory and I had done for Robin, and there she lay, trussed and finally ready for the fucking.

I stripped. My erection was excellent. I was not nearly as big as Gregory, fortunately for Jess. Greg had been huge. As I visualized him plunging into poor little Robin, I wondered again how it was possible. Unlike Robin, who had struggled and screamed into her gag, Jessica seemed quite resigned to her fate when I lubricated her hole, as Gregory had recommended but not, I remembered, done for Robin.

I had nearly forgotten the birching that was supposed to arouse the subject, as Gregory had called his daughter. As I stood over Jess with the birch she flinched away as far as she could, but still there were no shrieks or pleas for mercy. I brought the twigs down between her legs quite hard. Still not a murmur. I am proud to say that the brave child took quite a hard birching without a murmur.

I lay on her and looked her in the eye. "Now Jess dear," I said as I positioned my prick at her hole, "this is where you earn the right to wear a dress! It will hurt the first time. Are you ready?" She bit her lip and screwed up her face and nodded as I plunged in - one loud shriek and I was in and riding her…riding her… my orgasm was the greatest moment of my life so far.

Later, when we were both naked in my bed, I thought she would turn from me. But instead she came into my arms. She was still sobbing, but she snuggled up to me. "Dress AND panties?" she murmured sleepily, and soon she really was asleep.

What a way I had come since that fateful day not so long ago when a shy version of me had climbed a garden wall and seen a naked little girl pegged out on a lawn! Problem was, visions of poor little Robin being so savagely raped kept rising in my mind. I had been invited to book a session to rape her myself, and the temptation was with me even with my darling Jessica asleep in my arms. Tuesdays alone, I feared, were insufficient to slake the wicked desires that Robin had stirred up in the deepest recesses of my brain. Will you hear more from me? - I am not sure.