index


Message-ID: <41363asstr$1048126203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Content-Disposition: inline
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
MIME-Version: 1.0
From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm>
Subject: {ASSM} Fairies 02: Karen's Regrets {Georgie Porgie} (b+/g pedo nc bond)
Date: Wed, 19 Mar 2003 21:10:03 -0500
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

         Don't skip over this disclaimer!  It's important!

      This and other stories by Georgie Porgie can be found at:
                http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"If the First Amendment means anything, it means that a state has no
business telling a man, sitting alone in his own house, what books he
may read or what films he may watch."  -- Justice Thurgood Marshall

Never let anyone try to tell you that you're not allowed to READ A STORY
because you're under some stupid arbitrary age that changes from country
to country, and year to year.  But if you're under the stupid arbitrary
age at the particular time and place you read this, keep quiet about it.

And never let anyone try to tell you that you're not allowed to READ A
STORY because some people currently in power in the place you live (no
matter if that's your country or your home) have decided THEY don't like
to read what YOU like to read.  But if they've 'banned' this story, then
keep quiet about it reading it.

The author does not condone abuse of any person, by any other person,
regardless of the ages, genders, heritage, or political or biological
relationships between any of the persons involved.  Abuse includes any
activity done without the willing participation of everyone directly
involved, unless done to prevent other abuse under this definition.
But it also includes using force or threats to interfere in, disrupt,
or prevent the activities of others NOT committing abuse under this
definition, by others who are NOT directly involved.  Any person guilty
of abuse under this definition should be arrested to prevent such abuse.

"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.  Books
are well written or badly written.  That is all."  -- Oscar Wilde

Fantasies are fantasies, and are not real life.  This story is a FANTASY
and if it involves abuse of anyone by anyone else, then nobody should
act that way in real life, nor tolerate anyone else acting that way in
real life.  But neither should anyone object, in real life, to anyone
else's FANTASIES, let alone try to justify real-life abuse because of
them.  In over 30 years of reading and writing stories like this, the
author has NEVER hurt any real person, nor tolerated anyone else doing
so.  Enjoying FANTASIES like this DOES NOT and NEED NOT not make anyone
a monster in real life, as long as they understand that real people are
not to be treated this way.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

This story is Copyrighted (C) by Georgie Porgie.  All rights reserved.
It may be FREELY reposted to any appropriate newsgroup providing all the
following conditions are met: 

1. This header remains attached to the story unchanged.
2. The full disclaimers below remain unchanged.
3. The subject line is unchanged, allowing potential readers to decide
  to avoid the story if they wouldn't like it.
4. The story is posted unaltered, either by addition or deletion. 

People who flood the newsgroup with a hundred stories, none of which
have story codes, are obnoxious morons wasting the time of everyone
reading the group, and providing nothing of value.  I don't want any
of my stories to be posted by obnoxious morons. 

It may be FREELY archived on any appropriate web site providing all the
following conditions are met: 

1. The web site links ONLY to: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www
  rather than rudely BYPASSING all of the descriptions and disclaimers
  that would otherwise be required.
or
1. The web site provides FREE access to the story without restriction
  (including, but not limited to, 'registration' or charging a fee),
2. The link title includes enough description to allow readers to decide
  to avoid the story if they wouldn't like it, and
3. The reader is required to SEE, if not read, the full disclaimers and
  description prior to deciding whether to read the story, just like it
  is on the aforementioned author's web site.
4. The story is archived unaltered, either by addition or deletion. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

                                Fairies

Caution! Just because you liked the first chapter does not mean you will
like the following chapters, and vice versa.  Take note of the story
codes, and avoid reading chapters that take these girls places you don't
want to follow.

As always, this story is not real, has never happened, and I hope will
never happen, and any resemblance to any real or imaginary person,
character, structure, or place is purely an unintentional coincidence.

                       Chapter 2: Karen's Regrets

The fantasy took off in a completely new direction. Four
neighbor boys blackmail, kidnap, and tie up Karen, against her will.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

                                Fairies

                            by GeorgiePorgie
                               2 May 1998


                       Chapter 2: Karen's Regrets

     "I'M COMING!!!  LOOK OUT!!  HERE I COME!!!!!!!" Karen yelled, her
braided blond pigtails wobbling and bouncing delightfully as she turned
this way and that, trying to catch a glimpse of her friend, Tina.  She
was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't surprising, since Karen had counted
to the highest number she knew, sixty-nine, before uncovering her eyes
to begin searching.

     Even though Karen had unknowingly skipped over the thirties, Tina
still had had plenty of time to find a hiding place.  She knew lots of
good hiding places, and being the smaller of the two, she could fit in
places Karen wouldn't even look.  A moment before Karen finished her
count, Tina's head disappeared into the old tractor tire surrounding the
sandpile in her back yard.

     When she began searching for Tina, Karen went the wrong direction.
That was her first mistake that Saturday morning, but it wouldn't be her
last, by anybody's count!

     She went the first place she would have gone to hide: her bedroom
in her own home.  She looked under the bed, behind the door, and in the
closet (pushing aside a dozen lacy pastel-colored dresses and moving a
large stuffed unicorn), but Tina wasn't there.  "Frizzy, have you seen
Tina?" she asked.  She put the unicorn's mouth to her ear and listened
a moment.  "No?  Well, keep your eyes open!" she told it, as she dropped
it back down by the closet door.  As if the unicorn would close its eyes
now anyway!  It lay there obediently looking up Karen's dress as Karen
stood and thought.  The lucky unicorn got a nice long look at a pair of
light pink frilly panties decorated with curly pink bows of ribbon at
the top and sides.  It also got several peeks at a cute belly button and
even a glimpse of the girl's titties as she turned away, her long white
pleated dress twirling out.

     Karen looked behind the door again just to be sure, and left her
bedroom.  As she walked down the hallway, she passed her father's study
where he sat absorbed in work at his computer.  She paused at the door
and considered asking him if he had seen Tina, but decided against it.
He never played with her, hardly noticed her except when she disobeyed
some stupid rule or other, and then only long enough to punish her.  She
knew better than to interrupt him in his work; it would be like asking
him for another spanking.  He treated her best when she was nowhere near
him.

     As she turned away, the doorbell rang.  "Get that," he commanded
her, without looking up.

     'He always makes me say 'please' to him,' Karen grumbled to herself
but she knew better than to point out her father's inconsistency.  She
ran to the front door before the bell could ring again.  Making a caller
wait at the door too long was another way to get a whipping.

     When she opened the door, to her surprise there were three boys
standing on the porch: Bob, from across the street, and his friends Ken
and Jeremy from down the block.  "We don't need the lawn mowed, come
back next -- " she began, but Bob interrupted her.

     "Shut up and listen, Karen, and listen good," he said, leaning
toward her with a strange smile on his face, speaking in a hushed tone.

     Suddenly nervous, but not understanding why, Karen waited for him
to continue.  She looked at Ken, and then Jeremy, and they were both
smiling also, like they knew something she didn't, and liked it a lot.

     "Remember what you did yesterday?" Bob asked.

     "I played with Tina all day, why?" Karen replied, confused.

     "Sure, but where?" he pressed.

     "In the back, um..." she thought, "and..."  She paused, her feeling
of nervousness growing worse.  She knew where else.

     "And in the front, right?" Jeremy teased, with a smirk, pulling out
a photo.  He held it up for her to see.  When she reached out, he pulled
it away.

     She'd seen enough though, to recognize herself, naked, on her own
front lawn, raising her arms high.  She and Tina had run across the lawn
twice yesterday, the second time stopping for a moment to tease the boys
with a little peek at a couple of pussies before covering up again and
running off to hide.  She hadn't realized they had a camera, hadn't seen
it yesterday, and hadn't imagined they could have taken a picture of her
in that brief moment.  She was aghast.

     "Give me that!" she demanded of the boys, reaching for it again.

     They laughed.  "Sure thing, we can always make more of them, you
know!" Ken smirked, holding it within her reach but pulling it back at
the last second.

     "Like, one for every boy on the street!" Bob added with a grin.

     "Noooo!" Karen pleaded, reaching out desperately but futilely as
the boys passed the picture back and forth higher than she could jump.
They laughed at her antics.

     "Shut up and listen, Karen," Bob continued in his hushed voice.

     She gave up her futile attempts to snatch the photo and stood
meekly listening.

     "This one's for your Daddy, Karen!" Bob threatened.

     "Oh!  Ohhh, nooo!  No!!!!  He'll whip meeee!!" Karen whined, fear
making her voice tremble.

     "Yea!  We know!!" Jeremy laughed.

     "We can hear it every time he whips you, or didn't you know that?"
Bob added.  "Owwiiee!  Owwieee!  Waahh waaah!  Oh stop, I'll be good!"
I will!!" he mocked in as girlish a voice as a boy could manage.

     Karen blushed crimson in shame and humiliation.  Those were her
exact words the last time she'd been whipped, when was it?  Not too long
ago, anyway.  She had left the screen door open, and got ten hard swats
for it.  "Oh please, please don't give it to Daddy!  Please!!"

     "As long as you do what we tell you to do, we won't give him this
picture, understand?"

     Karen nodded, but she didn't really understand the full meaning of
Bob's words.  Her nod made the boys' grins broaden, she noticed, and
that made her even more uncomfortable, somehow.

     "Good.  Turn around!" Bob barked.  Karen hesitated, but didn't
resist when he put his hands on her shoulders and started turning her.
The little girl turned the rest of the way around without further delay.
"Put your arms behind your back," he demanded.

     Meekly she obeyed.  She felt hands take her elbows and forearms and
pull them further back, holding her wrists against each other.  She felt
something rough wrap around her wrist.  She looked over her shoulder in
vain, trying to see what they were doing.  When she felt the roughness
pull tight, she realized Ken was tying a rope around her wrists as Bob
and Jeremy held her arms for him.  She trembled in fear.  What were they
going to do?

     "WELL?  Who was it!?" an impatient voice called from inside.

     "Tell him it was a salesman, or we'll march in and show him the
picture right now," Bob hissed in her ear.

     "Ju- just a salesman!" Karen squeaked.  Bob poked her in the ribs,
making her squirm.  She repeated it louder so her father could actually
hear her.

     "Now tell him you're going over to Tina's to play," Bob continued,
his tone conveying the unspoken threat.

     Karen obeyed, hoping her father would hear the fear in her voice
and come out to rescue her, until she remembered what would happen if he
did.  She didn't think anything the boys could make her do would be any
worse than what she knew her father would surely do.  Another mistake!

     Bob pulled Karen backwards onto the front step and Jeremy shut the
door.  "Turn around and come with us," Karen heard from behind her.  A
jerk of her braid started her turning, and she went along.

     She pulled a little with her arms, and discovered that her wrists
were tied securely, but not tightly.  They didn't hurt, but she knew she
couldn't get her hands free in a million years.  "Where are we going?"
she squeaked.

     "You'll see," Jeremy told her, and they started off down the walk
to the street, the boys moving into position to keep her surrounded.
They turned right and headed down the block, Jeremy leading the way.
When they got to Steve's house, they stopped her while one boy went to
the door.  She waited, unable to do anything else, as the boy knocked
and asked for Steve, who came to the door a minute later.

     Steve looked her way, following the other boy's gesture, listened,
and suddenly grinned broadly.  He stepped out and eagerly ran out to the
street.  Tugging Karen's arm, he spun her around and yanked on the rope
holding her wrists.  Then he laughed loudly.  "Count me in!  This'll be
a lot of fun!" he declared.

     Karen nervously wondered what he meant.

     "Get moving!" Bob commanded, and shoved her.  Karen obediently
turned to follow Jeremy.  He kept a brisk pace, and with her shorter
legs, Karen nearly had to run to keep up with him.  The boys behind her
pushed and prodded her insistently whenever she slowed down.  They soon
approached Jeremy's house, the oldest and largest house on the block,
hidden behind shrubs on a largely overgrown lot.  He led her down the
long driveway, opened a wooden gateway, and stood aside.  Karen knew if
she went in, she'd regret it, but she didn't have much choice.  When Bob
gave her another rough shove, she passed through the gateway.  Three of
the boys surrounded her and kept her moving, while the other boy latched
the gate behind them with an ominous click.

     "Mission accomplished!" Ken gloated.  "That went perfectly!"

     "Is everything ready?" Bob asked Jeremy.

     "Everything, just like we planned!" came the cheerful response.

     The boys led her and pushed her along, against her feeble but
increasing resistance, to the middle of the lawn.  "On your knees!"
Bob ordered.

     Karen hesitated, tears welling up in her eyes.  She felt helpless
and alone.  "Can't I please go home?" she pleaded without much hope.
"Please just give me the picture and let me go, please?"

     "We told you, Karen, but apparently you weren't listening.  As long
as you do everything we tell you to do, we won't give your Daddy this
picture.  I just told you to get down on your knees.  Now!  Do you need
some help or something?"

     She found it was a little awkward getting on her knees without her
hands to catch her, but she managed it without falling.  She looked at
the boys around her, looking back at her with evil smiles.  A shiver ran
down her body.  Her braids shook, exaggerating every little tremble,
much to the boys' amusement.

     "See those pegs in the ground beside you?" Jeremy pointed.  Karen
nodded.  "Move forward a little," he waved.  Karen obeyed, knee-stepping
awkwardly.  "That's far enough.  Move your ankles apart.  Wider.  Wider!
A little wider!  Stop."  Karen opened her legs wide enough to satisfy
him, hopping her cute little body side to side to move her knees.  Her
dress swayed side to side with her.  The boys grinned in anticipation.
"Now back up," he ordered.  Obediently Karen tried to move back, and
found it even more awkward than moving forward had been.  Gradually she
made progress while the boys waited.  "Stop.  And stay there, or else!"
Jeremy said, waving the photo before her face, giving a clear message.

     Eagerly, Bob and Ken knelt beside her.  Karen felt her shoes jerked
past her heels and off.  The boys hadn't even taken the time to unbuckle
them, and she heard a rip as one of the straps broke free.  The ruined
shoe hit the ground in front of her, where she could see the damage.
Bob tossed her other shoe aside, and Karen glanced over to see it laying
bottom-up in some muddy water beside the walkway.  Both of her new shoes
were ruined, and she knew her father would blame her for it.  They were
supposed to be for church tomorrow, not for play.  They were worth sixty
swats, maybe more, she figured, probably on her bare bottom.  Cringing
at the thought, she felt a little teardrop trickle down her cheek.

     Chill air on the soles of her feet brought her attention back to
her current problems, and sent another shiver through the frightened
little girl, as Bob and Ken slid her lacy white ankle socks down and
tugged them off.  "These will come in handy later," Bob told her, with
another sly smile and a wink, but he didn't explain further.

     Jeremy reached into a box and pulled out a long coiled rope.  With
a grin, he waved it once in front of her face, then tossed it on the
ground behind her.  Bob and Ken each took an end of the rope and tied it
tightly around her nearest ankle.  She twisted around, looking back over
her shoulder, first at one boy and then the other, as they worked on the
knots.

     "Owww!" she screamed, as Bob tugged his knot tight on her ankle and
forced her foot up and over the peg, spreading her strained legs even
further.  He began a quick series of wraps around the peg, left one turn
slightly loose, made a few more tight wraps around the peg, and tucked a
final loop of the rope through the loose wrap.  He left the last loop
hanging out.  Ken was a little slower, but finished his knot on Karen's
other ankle.  "Owwwwwie! OwwOwwwowiee!! It hurrrts," Karen whimpered as
her other ankle leaped the peg and landed on the other side in Ken's
grip.  He imitated Bob, leaving a loop of rope hanging down.  Her knees
were in torment and she couldn't move them.  "It hurts, it hurts, oh it
hurts!" the little girl moaned.

     "Oh really, ya think?" Jeremy mocked her.  Everyone laughed except
Karen.  "Now, Karen, we have something to demonstrate to you.  The knots
on your ankles come out with a little tug on the rope to pull the loop
out.  Watch."

     Karen twisted around to see her ankle.  Bob pulled slightly on the
rope, and she saw the loop shrink.

     "All you have to do to get loose is to pull the ropes, got it?"

     Karen nodded, wondering what this was leading up to.  Were they
going to go away and let her untie herself?  She held that glimmer of
hope.

     "Try it," the boy urged.  When Karen tried to lean back to get her
hand anywhere near her ankle, she found it impossible, because of the
ropes on her wrists, keeping her arms centered behind her.  The glimmer
of hope left her, and her tears welled up further, threatening to break
out and flow.  She swallowed.

     "Aww," Jeremy teased, "Can't do it with your hands tied, can you?
Untie her hands and let her try it again."

     Ken took the end of the rope on her wrists and gave a quick sharp
tug, and to Karen's amazement, the rope on her wrists fell away.  "It's
just that easy!" he informed her.  "Your turn now."

     Karen's glimmer of hope returned threefold, and she leaned back to
reach for the rope that would pull out the loop on her right ankle and
set her leg free.  She found that even with her hands free, it hurt her
to lean backwards.  Still, she managed to get two fingers around the
rope and began to pull it.  Just then, Ken lightly tapped her wrist with
his little finger.  She lost her grip on the rope and had to start over.
Twice more, she got ahold of the rope, and a quick light tap knocked her
hand away.  Her slight glimmer of hope dimmed and died again.  Her eyes
watered, and she blinked away a tear.

     "See how easy it is for us to keep you here?" Jeremy emphasized.
"But you haven't seen anything yet.  Get the pole," he said.

     Karen could only watch fearfully and helplessly as Steve helped Ken
with a long pole.  Bob pushed the loop of rope below her right ankle,
and held it in place as the pole thrust through it.  Steve pushed as Ken
guided and Bob held the second loop.  In less than ten seconds, they had
the pole centered behind the helpless little girl, running through the
loops in the knots on both of her ankles.

     "Now, you see, it's absolutely impossible to untie the knots around
your ankles without taking the pole out first.  Right, Karen?"  She only
nodded, her pretty pig-tail braids bobbing in unison.  "Obviously.  So
go ahead, take the pole out."

     She expected the boys to stop her like before, but her hope came
back to tease her, and she tried anyway.  Her feeble efforts to push
the pole to one side or the other met only with chuckles and no success.
And then, Bob pulled the rope harder, tightening the loops around the
pole.  Once again her hope of escape was dashed to death.

     "The blocks."  Karen turned to watch as Ken and Bob lifted heavy
cement cinder blocks and carried them over.  The boys dropped one at
each end of the pole, and with difficulty nudged them into place.  She
didn't have to think hard to see she would have to move one or the other
heavy cement block by pushing sideways on a pole she couldn't move even
before they'd pulled the loops tight.  But as she thought about it, a
small glimmer of hope returned again: she could just lift the ropes off
the pegs!  She didn't have to move the pole sideways after all.

     The boys returned to the pile of cinder blocks, strained with all
their muscles to carry over two more, and dropped one on each end of the
pole.  Karen's shoulders shook with sobs.  Hot tears of despair began to
flow down both cheeks.  The boys looked delighted at their handiwork.

     "I take it you've figured it out by now, doll?  You're going to
be here until we feel like letting you go.  And we won't, until you've
done everything we want you to do, and we've done everything to you we
want to do.  Is that all clear to you?"

     "Yes," Karen cried.

     "And the longer it takes you to do what we tell you to do, the
longer you're going to be here, right?"

     "Yes," Karen repeated, wiping her tears away.

     "And you're going to do everything we want you to do, because you
don't want us to give this picture to your Daddy, right?"

     "Yes," Karen whimpered.  She knew she had no other choice.

     "Absolutely everything?"

     "Yes, yes," Karen confirmed.  "Everything!"

     "Great!  Now the real fun can start," Bob stated smugly.

     "Just a second," Jeremy mumbled, and reached into a box and pulled
out a camera.  He handed it to Ken.  He pulled out another and gave it
to Steve.  He took out a third and readied it for action.

     "Pull up your dress and show us your panties, girlie."

     Karen, kneeling on the ground with her legs spread wide, her ankles
tied securely with ropes and pegs and poles and blocks, looked around at
the boys gathered around her.  "No!  You'll take more pictures of me!"
she protested.

     The boys responded with laughter.  "She's smarter than we thought,
isn't she, guys?" Ken taunted.  "Didn't you just say you were going to
do everything we told you to do?"

     Bob reminded her, "The longer you wait, the longer you'll stay, you
know.  You will pull your dress up before we let you go, because we said
so.  Get it over with."

     With trembling hands, Karen reached down for the hem of her dress.
-- 
  Georgie Porgie
  georgieporgie@fastmail.fm

-- 
http://www.fastmail.fm - A no graphics, no pop-ups email service

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}|
|Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+