index


Message-ID: <31196asstr$994025402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Pedro Vila <PedroVila@MailAndNews.com>
Subject: {ASSM} "The Replacement" final parts (ped, n/c, bond, whip, slow and painful)
Date: Sun,  1 Jul 2001 18:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


This is a work of pure fiction.
The author does not condone any
of the actions taken by the
fictional characters in this story

If you are offended by the
above subject matters, or
are under eighteen, or it
is illegal to read of such
where you are,
      you should leave now!






_______________________________




      "THE REPLACEMENT"
       by Pedro Vila


<1st attachment, "The replacement pt05.txt" begin>

          HEADLINE:
       WOMAN FOUND DEAD
       DAUGHTER MISSING
       (AP)A woman was found strangled
       in her home when police responded
       to a missing persons report filed
       by the husband, who is serving time
       in jail for a manslaughter charge.
       The 9 year old daughter is currently
       missing and has not been seen by
       friends or family members for several
       days. Police are looking into a
       possible kidnapping and residents
       are encouraged to look out for a
                           cont. page 12



  The next day was just as hard and Heather was still getting
dirty despite her constant cleaning. Mr. Stafford had been laying
out instructions for different meals in English and she did not
anger him in anyway. He didn't feed her down her underwear, but
she was still eating on the bare table without a plate.   Heather
bathed him after washing herself off at the toilet, which she was
making an extra effort to keep sanitary for her own use. He
didn't make any moves on her and it was becoming less stressful
to be touching a full grown naked man all over.   She still cried
herself to sleep that night, this time because she was having a
hard time remembering what it was like back home.

  Her fourth day was a nightmare.
  Mr. Stafford told her she was to clean up the shed out in the
yard and he provided her with an old brown, torn dress to go out
in the sunlight with along with an old pair of shoes. He also,
however, give her a leather dog collar that he demanded she wear
around her neck at all times outside. Heather weakly protested
thinking it was just a cruel trick, but a glance to the table
made her comply.   He helped her strap it on and calmly
explained, "This is for your own safety. Without it, somebody can
take you as unclaimed property and I would have no legal recourse
to get you back with. You understand?" Heather didn't. The yard
was fenced in and she could see somebody trying to climb it
before they would get her.   Still, the thought that she was
property gave her chills and she wasn't keen on the idea of being
out there alone. Would somebody really try and grab her?   Mr.
Stafford seemed to be getting impatient with her and she stepped
out into the bright sun and was momentarily blinded. After an
adjustment, she made her way to the shed and felt herself again
as the feeling of wearing clothes gave her some confidence.   The
shed was darker inside and there was no light except for the
window facing the house. Dust started to stir and it made her
sneeze. Heather opened the door and started to sweep quickly to
empty the dirt out. Then she stood there coughing and tried to
catch her breath. When the dust cleared, she swept slower and the
shed started to feel real hot inside.   Heather was sweating in
no time.
  Then she was to clean the layers of dust from the shelves too.
It took hours and she was dry and parched from the heat and dust.
A jug of something heavy almost slipped out of her hands as she
tried to put it back on the shelf and the cap wasn't on tightly.
It turned out to be some dark motor oil and it ran down her arms
and then dripped off of her elbows and on to her dirty dress and
lower legs.   Heather looked down at herself and was shocked to
see that her legs were almost black with dirt. It wasn't the oil
though, she could see were it had left lines down to her shoes.
No, her legs were almost black from the dust and dirt sticking to
her sweat. She wiped sweat from her brow with her arm and stopped
in shock as she realized that she'd just wiped black oil onto her
face. How many times had she done that?   In panic, Heather felt
like she was having a hard time breathing. She had more work to
do too. She thought, I could take the collar off while I'm in
here. Just so I don't choke.   There was a pocket and she slipped
it in. It was better.
  Heather then started on the window. It was caked with dirt. You
almost couldn't see anything through it. She wasn't given water
to clean here, but instead a razor on a handle for scraping. It
was sharp and though it was hard work, it cleaned the window off
fairly quickly.   The window was still very dirty. Heather found
that most of it was on the outside. She peeked around outside and
didn't know what she was looking for. Timidly, she stepped out
and around until she found the window. She worked with her back
to the fence and had most of it scraped off when she cut her
finger on a small piece of cracked glass. Her finger hurt and it
was too dirty to put in her mouth.   She sat on her ankles and
held it, hoping it would stop.
  Somebody yelled by the fence.
  Heather turned and saw a dark, angry looking man pointing to
her and yelling. She froze only for a second and then got up to
walk quickly back to the house. Then she remembered the collar
and took it out to try and put it back on. The yelling man was
now running around to the front gate and still yelling. Heather
got to the door first and shut it just as he started to pound on
it.   She still couldn't get the collar on though.
  The pounding and yelling brought Mr. Stafford there instantly.
He saw her trying to secure the collar and his face screwed up in
fury. Heather started to cry and babble. He held her up and put
the collar on her roughly, and a little to tightly, and then
flung her to the table and opened the door for the yelling man
outside.   The man made strait for Heather and she shrank back in
terror. Mr. Stafford held him back though, and heated words
followed.   Heather understood none of it but could tell the mans
fury was on her directly at all times. When the man appeared to
calm down a little, Mr. Stafford let his arm go. Only the man got
past him and started to slap Heather on the face. Two missed, but
one landed smack on the cheek and Heather was momentarily
stunned.   When her senses came back, the men were talking a
little more calmly, though still heated. Mr. Stafford was not
holding the other man back now and he didn't try to hit her
again.   Mr. Stafford then turned to Heather and ordered, "On the
table! NOW!!" Heather was scared out of her wits, but got on as
quickly as she could. Something inside told her that Mr. Stafford
was preferable to this other man.   She was then belted down to
the table like before, but much tighter and she had very little
room to wiggle. Then her dress was pulled all the way up over her
head as well as her undershirt. Then the panties were pulled all
the way off as well and hung over her toes., held there by the
buckles.   Then the whipping started. She tried to stay conscious
of it all but lost count at thirteen. This was much harder too,
and Mr. Stafford aimed at her from the top of her back to her
calves.   When he stopped finally, the man stated to yell again
and Mr. Stafford turned her onto her back. Heather was feeling
the pains from her back touching the wooden table and only became
aware that she was exposed fully in front just as the strap came
down on her belly, hard.   Heather felt herself jerk
uncontrollably as she was whipped from her chest to her knees.
The last few swings hit her smack dab on her private and she
screamed so loudly that Mr. Stafford had to stop and hold her
mouth.   She must have blacked out then because all she
remembered next was Mr. Stafford standing over her and sponging
her clean gently. She was still tied down on the table, but the
angry man was now gone.   She looked at Mr. Stafford and
whispered, "I'm sorry." in a choked voice.   "I know you are." he
said with some regret. "You should have kept the collar on. That
man came to claim you as his own. Pretty young girls such as
yourself are scarce around here, understand.?"   "I..." Heather
felt so dry that she couldn't speak. Mr. Stafford held a freshly
soaked sponge of water over her mouth and let it drip into her.
Heather never felt water taste so good in her life. There was a
calm about her too. She had endured the worst of it and came
through.   "I would have never hit you so hard. I had to do it to
prove you were my property." Heather wanted to say sorry again,
but the property part still upset her. Mr. Stafford rolled her
onto her belly and washed her gently.   Her wounds were stinging
but the washing felt nice. She didn't try to fight the bonds, but
lay there totally in his hands.   After what seemed like an
eternity, he undid her and helped her up. She was naked and
looking down at her legs, covered with red stripes. She looked
back at the table, It was covered in dirt and little smears of
blood. She turn back to him with sadness.   "Go clean yourself up
first, then you can clean the table." He motioned her away, and
Heather padded gently to her toilet to wash the underwear he
handed her.   She was emotionally numb as she washed her body
with her washcloth and then her underwear. Heather didn't cry.
She didn't even feel like herself. She removed the collar and
didn't notice she could breathe better.   Then it sunk in. She
was thankful that she was still here. Suddenly, this place wasn't
the worst place she could be. Not by a long shot.   Heather
looked around the bathroom. It didn't seem so foreign now.

  Once the table was clean, he let her clean it with a sponge,
Heather started on their dinner and kneeled on the very table she
had been brutally whipped on only hours before. She watched Mr.
Stafford eat his meal and then she ate from the table from the
same spot.   When she was done and had licked her place clean,
Mr. Stafford leaned back and said, "We should talk now that
you've settled in."   Heather stayed kneeling and felt like a
good dog awaiting instruction from her master. It wasn't as ugly
feeling as she thought it would be.   "First. That man who wanted
to claim you will be back. He will bring the local councilmen and
try to claim that I am not treating you correctly. He is right
too." Mr. Stafford took another breath. "The only way I can keep
him from taking you is for you to be my wife. That means I should
beat you everyday. It also means that you can't be a virgin when
they show up.   "They will all examine you to see if you are. You
are, I take it?" Heather was frozen by his words. "A virgin?. You
are a virgin, is that correct?" Then Heather snapped out of it
and nodded fast.   "I see." Mr. Stafford thought for a moment.
"Well, that will have to be rectified. Which brings me to my next
point." Heather felt the world tilt when he said the next point.
"Your number one chore here is to replace my child. When you bare
me another daughter like the one I lost, then you may go home
again."

  Heather was about to pass out. The room was in chaos for her.
This man had brought her here, not to clean for him, but to get
pregnant by him. But she was only nine years old! How could he?
Heather found the courage to speak finally. "But I'm not old
enough to get pregnant."   Mr. Stafford smiled. "You would be
surprised. Your young, it's true, but your chances of getting
pregnant go up if you are sexually active." Heather was about to
shake her head, but he stopped her. "Would you rather stay until
you feel you are old enough? The quicker you do this, the quicker
you can go home again."   Heather bit her lip. That was her worst
fear about him. That he would try to rape her. But she saw no
choice if she was to get back home. Home! She hadn't thought
about it all day. The memory came back like a barking dog that
startles you near a fence.   "They will be back very soon."
Heather snapped back to right there. They would be back to try
and take her for that other man, and then she would never see
home again in her life. That meant she would have to have sex
with Mr. Stafford quickly. Right away!   She felt her body sway.
Her heart was pounding right through her chest. Her knees felt
like they would give out any second.   Heather's voice was barely
audible. "I'm scared." she said.   "I know. This isn't how we
were to start." Mr. Stafford set her on the table again. "Are you
ready? Lay down now."   He helped lay Heather onto her back and
then secured her arms and legs like before when she was whipped.
Heather felt herself tremble all over as Mr. Stafford pulled her
underwear up to her wrists and down to her ankles.   She felt
sweat drip down her ribs even though she felt like shivering.
Then he was on the table and on all fours over her. He was naked
and his penis was large and pointing strait at her face. She
couldn't watch any more and closed her eyes as her then lowered
himself onto her small body.   She felt a warm, slimy pole slide
between her legs and up to her private where it then pushed
against her bone. Mr. Stafford adjusted himself and the pole
slipped down a bit and she felt it enter her private area inside.
It felt much too large and the beginnings of a new pain down
there made their presence known.   It started to hurt badly and
Heather tried to grimace as she felt his large hands grab ahold
of her arms and push the huge pole into her deeper. She could
tell that it was going to really hurt and she started to say,
"No. Please stop. I can't do this."   Mr. Stafford put his hand
over her mouth and held her tighter with his other arm. Heather
felt like she was suffocating. The he thrusted himself hard up
into her and Heather felt herself rip somewhere inside.   The
pain became visual and blinding points of light seared into her
sight as the massive intrusion into her body stretched her in
ways she never thought possible. Her eyes felt a sudden rush of
water as tears streamed down her burning cheeks as she screamed
into Mr. Stafford's hand.   Heather felt like a bus had been
driven into her body and was about to park into her heaving
chest. Then she felt her torn insides sting as Mr. Stafford
pulled himself out of her and she was thankful that it was over.
 Mr. Stafford stopped and thrusted back into her, though. There
wasn't a ripping feeling this time, but she was still acutely
aware of where it registered before as he drove himself back into
her fully.   Now she became more conscious of how stretched she
was becoming inside and thought it was still extremely painful,
the worst of it was around her entrance. Heather could no longer
cry anymore. She was so racked with sobs that her lungs could not
coordinate enough to breath in.   Mr. Stafford pulled out yet
again and this time, Heather knew she was about to be impaled
once more. She gasped as much air as she could and then he
plunged into her tiny body again.   All of her pains were coming
together as a large ache from her hands to her toes. Her insides
hurt deeply but she also found that her wrists and ankles hurt
from trying to pull on her tight bonds. Her lungs ached from
trying to breath and her face hurt from it contortions.   The man
on her felt much larger to her now and he started to get a rhythm
going into her. Heather was dully aware of her making huffing
noises with each thrust and realized his hand was no longer
covering her mouth anymore.   Time stood still. Her pains became
dull and her awareness dimmed. She could almost see herself being
raped from across the room. She saw herself stretched out naked
on the table with red stripes up and down her body and a
grotesque look on her face. Mr. Stafford was supporting himself
with his knees and elbows so as not to relax his full weight on
her while his bare butt made thrusting motions into the much
smaller child that was her. She thought from across the room,
that was nice of him not to crush me.   Then he made a final
thrust and his own body seemed to quiver. Heather found herself
back in her own body as a new sensation that felt like strings
being pulled around inside tickling her obscenely.   Heather
remembered her biology and thought that it must be the sperm
entering her. That was how babies were made. It felt strange and
scary and she felt it again, this time more like a hot liquid
being pumped into her. It made her stop crying for a moment.  
Then there was no movement and it gave her more time to come to
grips with what it was like to have a man inside of her. People
liked this stuff? It was horrible feeling. This was the most
personal place anyone else could touch and Mr. Stafford forced
his way there against her will.   She felt a shame and
humiliation like nothing ever before.
  The pounding on the door startled Mr. Stafford more then it
startled her. Right then, she couldn't care about the world. He
pulled out of her gently and she felt like it left a gaping hole
in her. Before getting off of her, he put her collar on her neck
and told her right to her face, "You should be safe now." Then
the pounding grew stronger.   Safe?! What was safe about her life
here? This evil man treated her worse than a dog, and he had the
gall to tell her she was safe?   Mr. Stafford had opened the door
and the angry man from before had come in with three other
people, two older men and a woman behind them. The woman looked
down only and nobody spoke to her. Heather was still stretched
out naked on the table and was only partially able to see what
was going on. Her feeling of nakedness and vulnerability was
growing but she could hardly move around as she tried to struggle
loose.   Now she cared about what would happen. The dread that it
could be worse than it was made her little heart beat hard
through her ribs as they protruded and showed over her thin and
exposed skin.   The angry man started to talk first, fast and
with frustration. The older of his friends listened and nodded.
Mr. Stafford interrupted and sounded calmer. Both kept gesturing
to her. Heather wished she knew what they were saying.   They
talked like that for a while and Heather caught the woman's eye
for only a second, then the woman looked down quickly. Heather
saw pain and fear in the woman's eyes. She also glimpsed a collar
around her neck as well.   Finally, the older man spoke. He
sounded like some religious witch doctor or something and his
voice sounded old and chanting.   Then Mr. Stafford walked to her
and leaned close to her face. He said, "The councleman is going
to ask you some questions. Where you go will depend on what you
answer to him." Heather started to panic. "Remember what I've
told you before." and he straitened up and waved the older man to
her.   Heather wanted to cry again but she had no tears left.
  As the older councleman got closer, Heather could see that he
looked extremely old and he was wearing a strange looking
pendant. He smelled old to and he spoke to her in a slow, broken
English.   "What is your name, child?" he asked.
  "H... Heather.... Sir." she added just in time.
  "You are English?"
  "No... no, sir. I am an American." Heather stopped struggling.
She felt less threatened by this man.   The old man turned and
said something to the other younger man, but Heather didn't have
a clue as to what. He turned back to her. "You are with child?"
What? He was asking if she was pregnant. She was still a kid. How
could she be pregnant? "Um.... No. No, not yet." She added that
last part, remembering what Mr. Stafford had told her and hoping
it would keep her away from the angry man who wanted her.   The
old man sighed and nodded with his eyes closed. Then he asked one
more question, and it had an air of seriousness to it. "How much
did he pay for you?"   Property! She was property and they were
asking her price! Heather thought hard out of fear. What would
keep her away from the other man who would surely beat her worse
and never let her go? Mr. Stafford had given her mom money, but
wait, it was HER money he gave mom. She bit her lip and then it
came to her, the right answer.   "My father killed his family in
a car accident. I am their replacement."   The old man drew a
sharp intake of breath and straitened up quickly. He turned and
made a pronouncement to the group with his hands in the air. The
other old man said an "Ahh" and they started to turn and go.
Heather felt enormous relief but the angry man said something
else and pointed to her.   He repeated it and the group looked at
her again. Heather wanted to cringe. She wanted to run away from
this nightmare. She wanted to die before being given to someone
else.   The whole group approached her this time and Mr. Stafford
unbound one of her legs and pulled it away painfully. They all
bent in and examined her most private area. Heather scowled and
clamped her eyes shut tightly. Then her leg was brought back and
buckled up again.   She opened her eyes and everyone was now
looking at her face. Heather tried to crawl out of her skin.  
The older man again spoke to her. "Tell the truth, child. Do you
enjoy making babies?"   Did she enjoy making babies?! What kind
of stupid question was that? Did she enjoy being beaten and raped
by perverts? Heather almost yelled her answer. "NO!" and started
to sob, dryly.   The old man didn't like being yelled at, but his
reaction told her it was the right answer. He turned to Mr.
Stafford and said something foreign again and Mr. Stafford nodded
gravely.     Her legs were unbuckled again and Heather thought
they were going to give her to the nasty man anyway. But instead,
the older men held them widely and strongly apart and Heather was
exposed more then the last time.   Mr. Stafford then stood in the
middle with the strap and Heather looked up and pleaded with him.
"No, Please." she sobbed. "Please. I'll do anything. Please
don't. Plea...." Then the strap cracked hard across her private
and her body arched up terribly. Her mouth formed a silent scream
and the strap came down once again. The men were struggling to
hold on to her as Mr. Stafford followed each blow with another on
her most intimate and sensitive body part.   Heather again fogged
over and wasn't aware of when it stopped or when they let her go.
She laid there with her now very weak legs still wide apart with
her ankles out over the edge of the table.   Mr. Stafford was
seeing the other men out and the angry man looked peeved and
defeated. He tried one last time to call attention to Heather but
was ignored, then the door shut and Heather and Mr. Stafford were
alone once more.   He inbound her arms and pulled her to him. She
held him and cried everything out in his arms.   She didn't
remember going to sleep.

  Heather awoke in her room.
  She lay there for a moment wondering where she was. Her body
ached and then the previous night came flooding back to her.
Heather pulled the blanket to herself tightly and curled up into
a ball.   She wanted to die. Strange men had argued over her like
she was a piece of meat and she was tied to that awful table,
naked. And she was beaten! More than once! More memories
assaulted her senses.   And something else, too.
  Oh, god, she thought. I was raped!
  Heather couldn't control herself. Her body racked with violent
shivers and sobs. She felt someone try to hold her and she was
almost in his arms when she realized who it was. Heather pushed
back from him sobbing, "No. No, don't touch me." The man tried to
hold her and it almost became a wrestling match.   Finally, Mr.
Stafford slapped her face once. Heather was stunned and looked at
him for a second, gaping. The look on his face made her shrink
away, but she stopped trying to fight.   "You will get a hold of
yourself." he said. "Like it or not, you are better off here then
out there right now. Unless you would rather go with Koelee."
Heather didn't understand. Mr. Stafford explained. "Koelee is the
man who demanded you belong to him yesterday, remember?"  
Heather remembered the angry man at once. She got the chills. She
shook her head quickly.   "Then we understand one another." Mr.
Stafford then let her go and she shrank back against the wall
beside the bed. "Do not worry about him. You will stay with me
and I will let no one take you away. Koelee is frustrated because
he cannot find a wife. He is a petty man and will undoubtedly try
to find a way to take you from me."   Mr. Stafford relaxed his
face some. "How do you feel?"
  Heather couldn't talk, her throat was so tight. She swallowed
and tried again. "I hurt." It sounded squeaky.   "Yes. I can
imagine. You were not ready and your foolish lack of your collar
forced the worst on you too soon." He sighed with regret. "I
didn't want to destroy you. I did promise you that one day you
will return home. But you are now going to have to accept some
things I was hoping to avoid with you, if you were to return in
one piece.   "First off, when any of the locals are watching, I
may have to beat you for no justifiable reason. If they thought I
was being lax with you, then you may be removed to someone who
will surely hurt you badly. It is the way here.   "Second, You
are not to look like you enjoy having sex. I can see from your
face that that won't be a problem. Still, I must warn you that if
you appear to like it, you will be hanged. That would make
getting you home difficult.   "Third, you will have to do
everything in your power to provide me with a girl child. If you
harm yourself or do anything to prevent my getting what you owe
me, I will sell you and it will not be a pretty life for you
then." Mr. Stafford stood up.   Heather's mouth was hanging as
far open as her shock at her situation would allow. "You should
get yourself cleaned up as well as your garments. You still have
work to do and I am hungry." Then he left for the kitchen.  
Heather was afraid to follow him. She was afraid to stay by
herself. Despite everything that had just happened to her, she
had to go on with her chores. Maybe if she worked hard she
wouldn't think about anything.   She sat up and found out that
she was still naked, but looking around, she didn't see anything
for her to wear. She started to pull the blanket to cover herself
with but then remembered that she was not allowed.   Defeated,
she padded out into the house naked. She could not let her own
arms go and hugged herself compulsively, In the bathroom, she
found her panties and undershirt draped on the sink and decided
to pee first. The urine hurt where she must have been hit and it
was difficult to finish. She flushed and got up to retrieve her
underwear.   Then she saw herself in the mirror. It was her
welted body that caught her eye. She turned this way and that to
see all the damage, but she was afraid to look between her legs.
She noticed the collar around her neck and tugged at it. Then she
saw her own eyes in the mirror.   With embarrassment, she turned
away. She couldn't look at herself after what had happened.
Heather went right to her toilet and started to clean her panties
and undershirt. She put them on while still wet and realized that
they had not been on her since she had been a virgin. She felt
different and worthless now.   Heather entered the kitchen and
Mr. Stafford was waiting at the table. He indicated the counter
and Heather saw everything laid out for her. She felt enormously
sad as she fixed their breakfast robotically. Then she brought
Mr. Stafford's portion to him and got on the table like she was
supposed to.   She focused only on Mr. Stafford's food and tried
not to think about what had happened to her last night on this
very table.   When Mr. Stafford had finished he brought a plate
of food for heather and dumped it on the table. Heather ate
numbly and licked the table clean where her food had been dumped.
A small voice inside her said that the table hadn't been cleaned
since she was beaten and raped on the very spot she had licked,
but she tucked it away deeply and refused to think about it.  
Then Mr. Stafford leaned back and Heather knew he was going to
tell her things again. She wasn't to plug her ears. She stayed
kneeling and waited instead.   "I want you to stay away from all
the windows today. You should clean as best as you can around
them but I fear souls outside who are watching us today, and they
will want me to continue punishing you." Heather said nothing.
Mr. Stafford went on, "I would like to give you a few days before
I am forced to hurt you again."   Heather spoke softly. "Why?"
and then a hastily added, "Sir?"   Mr. Stafford thought for a
moment. "You are a smart child, you've shown that last night
during your inquisition, so I'll tell you. This is a very
religious country. They believe that it was women who committed
the first sin and that mankind has been punished for it ever
since. It is the way to redeem ourselves to our creator. Women
must never be allowed to cause mankind to go astray again."   "Do
you believe it too?" Heather asked, and then, "Sir?"
  "Yes I do, a little. I think there is some truth to that, but
I'm not near as fanatical as many here. Of course, I've been in
your country for a while. That may have corrupted me. Some of the
locals are thinking just that in my lax treatment of you too."  
Mr. Stafford got up. "Come. I need to treat your wounds, lest the
get infected while your cleaning."   He led her to the bathroom
and took out a small bottle from the cabinet. "Strip." he
commanded and Heather complied. Then he used almost a quarter
bottle covering her body with it. Heather was disgusted when he
rubbed her private area with it but that passed quickly and he
had moved on.   The solution had a healing effect on her and it
actually felt good where she hurt before.   "Wipe that smile off
of your face." Mr. Stafford ordered. "That kind of look can get
us both into real trouble, though I'd say you a lot more than
me."   When they had finished, he told Heather her chores and she
set out to do them, taking care to stay away from any window in
the house.   The house was slowly becoming cleaner and she wasn't
near as dirty as her previous cleaning jobs. She was however,
still covered in sweat afterwards.   Then it was time for supper
and she washed herself thoroughly before entering the kitchen.  
Dinner was prepared and she watched him from the table first and
ate on it herself after. They didn't talk except for a goodnight
before being dismissed. Then she was alone again in her room.  
Heather didn't cry.

  The next few days went pretty much the same, with Heather doing
jobs and staying away from windows. She made no mistakes and was
not beaten. Nobody came to the house to demand that she be
punished either.   But it wasn't too long before Mr. Stafford
informed her that he was going to start breeding her then.
Heather remembered the pain and despite knowing that she should
get it over with, she could not bring herself to get on the table
for him.   Then she was dragged screaming onto it and though she
started to cooperate, was brutally thrown on and belted down,
this time belly down.   Mr. Stafford then took the strap and hit
her a few times on her back before getting on and mounting her.
Heather was already crying badly and let out a soul wrenching
yell as he thrusted deep into her body once again. Heather wanted
to be out of her body again but she stayed where she was and took
the full brunt of it.   Mr. Stafford finished in her and she felt
him deposit his seed deeply within her body. He left her crying,
stretched out on the table and didn't release her until well
after she'd cried herself out.   When she was taken off the
table, she was told to finish her chores and wobbled out of the
room, not knowing where she was going. She didn't remember doing
any chores though she did them.   Despite her second rape, she
still didn't cry herself to sleep that night.

  The next day was no better. Heather was made to scrub the
floors in the kitchen and was sweaty and aching when Mr. Stafford
came in and ordered her onto her table. Heather tried to stall by
saying her chores weren't done but scrambled onto the table
before Mr. Stafford could grab her and do it himself.   He didn't
bind her this time, but instead made her take it on all fours,
with warnings about what he'd do to her if she didn't stay in
that position. Heather did her best but within a few thrusts into
her small body, her arms and legs started to give out. He ended
up forcing her face down hard onto the table while he rammed into
her bottom which he kept up and facing him.   It was the most
difficult position Heather had yet experienced. He went much
deeper into her immature body that way and Heather wished she
could have stayed on all fours.   Then he finished and held her
down for a while even after pulling out. "You must stay still."
he told her. "You must let my seed interact with your body. Let
it take hold of your egg and give me my child."   Heather could
only cry against the wooden table.

  The forth time he bred her, Heather didn't cry. She was bound
to the table spread eagle, but looser than before. Mr. Stafford
entered her without preamble and Heather bite her lip and grunted
hard with every thrust into her body.   This did not please Mr.
Stafford, and he pulled out without finishing to whip her body.
This made Heather cry and writhe on the table, and Mr. Stafford
then got on and entered her pained body again.   Afterwards he
told her, "You are not to enjoy this. I'm afraid I'm going to
have to punish you before every breeding attempt now." Heather
felt her face contorted into an ugly frown from her beating and
rape, but didn't say anything.   There was nothing to say.

  She worked the rest of the day and then went to her room after
supper. There was no breeding  that night, but Heather knew it
would be soon and dreaded when it would come.   That morning,
before breakfast, Mr. Stafford had a glass of something milky
brown and forced her to drink all of it. It made her gag going
down and she almost threw it back up. It was like drinking mud
and stick splinters.   "Good." Mr. Stafford told her when she
successfully held it down. "That will help speed up your
ovulation. Soon you will be able to bare me my child."   It was
some form of medicine, she guessed. It didn't help her keep her
stomach in check though, and Heather had to think random thoughts
to distract her from the queezy feeling it gave her insides.  
Then she had to fix his breakfast and she kneeled on the table
while he ate, hoping he would not force her to be taken by him.
He held up a fork full of french toast and when he didn't put it
down in front of her, she haltingly stood on her knees and held
her panties open for him. It was better then a whipping. She let
the elastic close and the syrupy egg bread ran into her aching
and now open private area. It would be difficult to eat knowing
what has been happening to her down there.   She wasn't allowed
to eat though. Instead, she was told to lay flat on her belly and
was then belted down with her legs together and arms above her
head. The squishy breakfast mashed into her panties and up her
crotch. Her heart started racing in fear and sure enough, Mr.
Stafford pulled her panties down to the bottom of her butt cheeks
and started to whip them.   Heather cried out with each blow and
her body was forced to mash her sticky hips into the table with
each one. She no longer cared about eating her food. It was some
cruel thing that he did to her so she wouldn't enjoy being raped.
Like that would ever be a possibility.   Mr. Stafford then got on
her back and entered her quickly. Heather cried as he thrusted
into her, bringing himself to his climax and depositing his seed
into her immature womb.   Heather was again humiliated and lay
sobbing, not bothering to move when he let her loose.   "You must
still eat, Heather." he told her. "I will not let you waste food.
get up and eat now." She stopped crying for a moment as she
looked up at him with disbelief, then cried even harder. A sound
of the strap still in his hand made her quickly get up and pull
her food soiled panties off and eat from them, choking down
swallows between her sobs and trying not to throw up.   Every
time she thought she could feel no lower, Mr. Stafford does
something to make her wish she were dead. She did her best to not
think about what she was doing and swallowed the last chunks down
that had fallen onto the table.   He made her suck from them and
then she was excused to start another cleaning project without
washing up first.   This time, it was behind drawers and dressers
and under beds. Heather cleaned and put herself into it to take
her mind off of her situation. She ended up very dirty where she
was still sticky between her legs and it started to feel awful
and brittle where it dried. It made her skin raw too.   Heather
worked hard and tried not to fidget while working, even though
she was itching where she had been repeatedly raped and whipped.
Once she had finished, she didn't ask for permission, but went
strait to clean herself up at her toilet.   While washing her
panties in the bowl, Mr. Stafford came in and Heather dropped
them and scrambled back away, knowing she was doing something
without his permission. Mr. Stafford looked at her then stood
over the bowl and proceeded to pee into it while her panties were
still in the water.   Then he zipped up his trousers and pulled
the plunger on the flush. He turned to her and said, "Better get
them quick." Heather hesitated a moment then scrambled back to
the bowl just as the water started to disappear with the panties.
Without thinking, she plunged her hand in and grabbed them just
in time. "Good." Mr. Stafford said as she looked at the yellowed
cotton with unease. "Wring them out before you put them on and
follow me." He stood there and waited for Heather and she had no
choice but to put the disgusting panties over her abuse private
area.   She followed him and felt trepidation as he led her to
the kitchen. Standing there in front of him, he picked up the
strap and ordered her onto the table. Heather broke down and
started to plead with him. She felt, what could she lose? He was
going to beat her and probably rape her again that same day. How
could it get any worse?   Mr. Stafford yelled, "Onto your table
now!!" But Heather just shook her teary head and cringed back
from him. He grabbed at her hair and she tried to bite at his
arm, but she couldn't get a good hold with her teeth.   He let
her go then and Heather thought that she had won. Then she saw
the look in his eyes and regretted it at once. Instantly, she
started to say "Sorry" over and over again and he grabbed her arm
with a strength she couldn't fight off.   Heather couldn't stay
on her feet as she was dragged screaming out onto the front porch
of Mr. Stafford's house. It was still daylight and people were
out everywhere. He motioned to a few men close by and they came
up the walk quickly and helped Mr. Stafford to haul little
Heather up the post of the front porch where some buckled leather
cuffs were already in place. The cuffs were on the house side of
the post and Heather was held to the street side and her wrists
were buckled over her head and back behind the post. The same
thing was done to her legs.   Heather screamed for help from
anybody in the gathering crowd but nobody understood, or if they
did, weren't about to help her. Her little body felt fully
exposed and thrusted forward with her arms and legs bound back
behind the post. She was reduced to racking sobs once more and
they didn't change much when Mr. Stafford ripped her top down the
middle, opening them to expose her chest, and then ripped her
panties completely off of her body.   She could feel her ribs
protrude out as her little flat chest heaved in the bright
daylight. Heather was once again humiliated beyond belief.   Then
Mr. Stafford took off his belt and folded it over once, forming a
loop. Standing to the side of her, he proceeded to whip her
brutally in front of the entire crowd. He started with her chest
and worked his way down to her upper legs. Then he aimed right
for her private area and continually landed blows there until she
couldn't feel anything anymore.   When he was done, she hung her
head in defeat and was only dimly aware of the applause from the
crowd. Heather was numb in every way.   She hung there until it
was dark.

  She woke up in bed and it was still dark outside. She hurt
everywhere, but mostly on her private area. She did recognize the
smell and it was the cream that Mr. Stafford had used to heal her
before.   Heather didn't cry. She was beyond crying.
  She was wrong, there were worse things then being beaten and
raped. She would never disobey Mr. Stafford again. The only way
out of this and hopefully home, was to do everything he asked
without question.   This was a terrible thing to realize for her,
but there was a calm about it too. Her life was completely his to
do with as he pleased, yes, but he would provide for her. She
would do what she was told and he would also protect her. Keep
her safe from other people here. This was a whole country that
must have been around for a long time. The other women here could
survive it, so could she as hard as it was.   Mr. Stafford would
take good care of her like everything else he owned.   She lay
staring at the ceiling until she finally went to sleep again.

  The morning brought wakefulness, but no feelings. Heather
didn't feel the fear like she had been feeling for the past few
weeks. What would happen will anyway, anything she did to stop it
would only bring extra unneeded pain.   She got up and noticed
she was naked. Her body was bruised and raw in her private are as
well as various places including her wrists and ankles. Her only
reaction to that was that she had deserved it.   Her top, what
was left of it, was hanging by it's shoulder straps on the
doorknob. Her panties were nowhere to be found. Heather put the
top on and it hung loosely now that the front had been totally
ripped open. She held her hands together in front to keep it from
slipping off and padded to the kitchen.   Mr. Stafford was there
waiting for her. "You shouldn't neglect your duties no matter
what your punishment has been." he simply stated.   Heather's was
simpler. "I'm sorry, sir."
  Mr. Stafford got up and brought back another glass of muddy
looking water. Heather drank it quickly and despite her resolve,
choked for a few minutes. Mr. Stafford, "Hmmm"ed and sat back
down to wait for his morning meal.   Heather made it, eggs and
some potato thing, and served him before kneeling on the table in
front of him.   She watched him eat and felt little fear from
him. This time, Heather really looked at Mr. Stafford while he
sat in front of her. Before, there was always something coloring
her perception, like he had just lost his family or he that was a
cruel monster who loved to torture her. All that fell away and
she saw simply a man in front of her now.   Mr. Stafford didn't
look up at her while she really looked at him for the first time.
He had brown hair, cut short and a little thin on top, but not by
much. He wasn't built but seemed to have enough muscle to do
manual labor. His eyes were a light brown with not too bushy
brows above and his nose was not too large for his face but big
enough and strait. His mouth, thin lipped and always closed,
showed none of the expression his eyes would.   Heather decided
that he was not an ugly man like she was, until recently, seeing
him. He wasn't even that tall, but dwarfed her small pre-teen
frame by a good couple of feet.   She burped and covered her
mouth. The stuff he made her drink was still settling. Mr.
Stafford glanced at her for a moment and decided not to make a
big deal out of it.   He had tried to do what he could when that
angry man, Keehoo was it? Had tried to take her away, and he
really seemed to mean it when he said she would get to go home
after he got a baby out of her. He also really seemed to believe
in what he was doing to her, hard on her as it was, and this felt
different then piling on tasks just to make her miserable.  
Heather thought about her old home and a weird thought popped up.
Nobody she was going to school with before could have taken all
that she has with him. This made Heather feel... she didn't know
what to feel. Proud? No, nothing like that.   Her thoughts were
interrupted by Mr. Stafford getting up and bringing a plate of
food to scrape onto the table in front of her. Heather took a
moment to make sure that his potion stayed down, then bent over
to eat.   When she had finished, she looked at her master,
(Master? When did she start thinking like that?) and he spoke to
her.   "My home is pretty well in order now. You have done an
good job, so today we will work on cleaning you now. Stay on the
table until I get back."

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