index


Message-ID: <41909asstr$1050628204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
Content-Disposition: inline
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
MIME-Version: 1.0
From: "Georgie Porgie" <georgieporgie@fastmail.fm>
Subject: {ASSM} Twins Club 01-02 {Georgie Porgie} (B+/g+ pedo nc humil spank)
Date: Thu, 17 Apr 2003 21:10:04 -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

          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 http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www
4. The story is archived unaltered, either by addition or deletion.

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

                                The Twins Club

This fantasy involves four boys age 13 to 15, several twin girls age 4
to 7, spanking and humiliation, with more activities in chapters not yet
available.  The four teenage boys take control of a girls playgroup,
causing the girls much anguish and terror.

I'm not into gore and grossness, so the only bodily fluid you'll find in
the following is tears, and there is no physical injury described.  (If
you want that sort of thing, you'll have to imagine it yourself.) If
that doesn't sound like a fantasy you would enjoy, then either don't
read it, or blame yourself.  I'm not forcing anyone to read this
fantasy.

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.

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

                                The Twins Club

                               by Georgie Porgie



                          Chapter 1: New Babysitters
                                 19 April 1998

     "Hi, girls!  Your regular babysitters couldn't be here today.
They're tied up, and don't ask where.  Your parents saw our notice on
the church bulletin board, and called us to babysit you.  I'm Jeff, and
these are my friends, Mark, Curt, and Robert.  We're going to have a lot
of fun today."

     Mark stepped forward.  "This is the Twins Club, they said, and I
can see why, since you're all twins.  Two of each, how nice!  Which
reminds me, there are only two rules when we babysit you."

     All the girls cheered but one.  "What are they?" she asked.

     "The first rule: you do everything we want.  The second rule: we do
everything we want.  It's that simple.  Anyone who breaks a rule will be
in a world of trouble.  Don't worry if you don't understand, we'll make
sure you understand."

     "Now let's find out your names.  Stand up so we can see you and
tell us your name.  You first," he said, pointing at a girl in a short
yellow sundress and bare feet.

     She stood.  "I'm Sadie," she murmured, bashfully.

     "Hey, what a coincidence!  We're sadies too!" Curt quipped, with a
wink at Jeff.  Jeff elbowed him sharply in the ribs and whispered in his
ear.  "Sorry," Curt mumbled back, "but I doubt they understand the joke
anyway."

     "You look like you're four years old, am I right?" Mark asked
Sadie.  She nodded her head.  "Sit down.  You next," he ordered, turning
to a girl obviously Sadie's twin, wearing a light pink leotard and a
white sweater, her bare feet tapping nervously on the plush carpet.

     "I'm Sandy," she murmured, just as shyly as her sister.

     "I'll bet you are.  Then stay out of the sandbox, kid.  Sandy is a
boy's name, so we can't call you that.  Is that short for Sandra?"  She
meekly nodded.  "Are you in gymnastics, Sandra?"  Another nod, with a
little smile.  "Great, I'll bet you have a really pretty body under that
leotard, don't you?  Nice hair, too, long straight blond hair, just like
your sister.  Sit down."

     "You," Mark pointed, and a girl set aside the kitten in her lap and
stood, smoothing out her red velvet skirt.  She wore a white ruffled
long-sleeved blouse with it, knee-length white socks with tassels, and
well-polished saddle shoes with buckles.   She kept her curly blond hair
out of her blue eyes with a jeweled headband and two silver hairclasps.

     "I'm Tiffany, and this is my sister, Heather.  We're seven years
old.  We got a pony for our birthday last month, and we ride it all the
time," she said, looking around the room to make sure the other girls
were paying attention.

     "We didn't tell you to introduce your sister.  Shut up and sit down
right now," Robert scolded her harshly, "and don't do anything unless we
tell you to do it."

     Tiffany sat down quickly, blushing in embarrassment.  The kitten
squealed and screeched until she moved aside.  She shifted back into her
place, blushing more.

     "Don't hurt that pussy," Mark growled.  "That's for us to do."

     Curt gave Jeff a glance, as if expecting him to do something to
Mark, but he was disappointed.  Tiffany just hung her head a little
lower, and blushed even deeper from embarassment.

     "Get up and tell us who you are," Mark demanded, looking right at
Heather.

     She quickly stood, said "I'm Heather," and sat down.

     "We didn't tell you to sit down!" Mark barked.

     "Sorry!" she said, standing up.

     "We didn't tell you to stand up again!" Mark shouted furiously.

     She almost sat down, but caught herself in time.  "I'm sorry, I'm
sorry!" she pleaded, trembling.  Her blond curls shook on the sides
where they escaped her silver headband and flowery hairclasps.  Her
hands nervously rubbed along the thin black leather belt holding up her
blue velvet skirt.  She stood waiting.  Nobody else moved or spoke as
they all stared at her.

     "For that you get a spanking, just so you all know what you'll get
if you give us any trouble.  Turn around, bend over, and put your hands
on the sofa."

     "I said I was sorry!" Heather protested, not believing they would
actually spank her for something so small as sitting down.

     "I mean now!" Mark insisted, grabbing her shoulders and roughly
twisting her around and shoving her over.  She landed face down on the
cushions.  Mark picked her up by her waist.  "Stand up.  And leave those
hands on the sofa or you'll really get it," he warned.

     Trembling, she obeyed.  "Oh please, don't spank me, I won't do it
again, oh please!" she pleaded.  Mark reached around her slender waist
and unbuckled her belt.  He slid it out of the belt loops on her skirt.
"Why are you doing that?" she asked, her voice quavering.  The other
girls sat in shocked silence as Mark lifted Heather's skirt up to her
waist.  He took her frilly sky blue silk panties by the waistband and
yanked them down to her mid-thighs.  "Oh no, don't do that!" Heather
pleaded, "not on my bare bottom!"

     Curt leaned forward and Jeff and Robert moved in close, all of them
intent on the view.  Mark folded Heather's belt in his hand and said
"Here goes!"

     Heather winced, ready for the belt to hit, but nothing happened.
She looked back over her shoulder.  Mark was holding the belt high, and
smiling at her.  She relaxed and smiled back a little.

     WHAP!  He brought the belt down faster than she could blink, in a
hard smack on her tender flesh.  "OOOWWWieee!" she screamed, "Oh! oww
oww oww!  Oh pleeeease don't spank me any more!" she whimpered.  "I'll
be good, I really will!"

     WHACK!  The belt struck her again.  The other girls screamed little
screams of sympathy as Heather's tears began falling.  She didn't dare
move her hands, but her shoulders shook.

     SMACK! her belt stung her again, across both sides.  "AAHAAHahiie!"
she wailed, screaming from the pain.  Heather stood there, bent over
with her hands on the sofa, her panties down around her thighs.  She
waited for the next blow, sobbing uncontrollably, not daring to resist.
She waited and waited, but the blow never came.  "Is it over?" she asked
no one in particular, between her sniffles.

     CRACK!  "YEEAHahAhowOWww!!" she screamed, crying anew, her whole
body shaking as the sobs wracked her.

     "We didn't tell you to speak, did we?" Mark asked her through
clenched teeth, pulling her head back by her curly golden hair.  She
shook her head, unable to speak.  Her tears streaked her face and
dripped off her chin and her cheeks.

     Heather bit her lip, not daring to move, not daring to speak.  The
other girls in the Twins Club sat stunned, also not daring to speak for
fear of being next for a spanking.  After a minute, Jeff said "Turn
around and sit down, Heather."

     She stood, reached back and pulled her panties back up, and began
to turn.  Mark's grip on her arm stopped her, jerking her and shoving
her until she was bent over again.  "Oh no, what now?" she cried, "I was
doing what you said!  Ohh, don't, don't, don't, oh pleease don't!  Why?
Oh why?" she whimpered.

     "We didn't say you could pull your panties back up, did we?  You
get another spanking for that!" Mark smirked, jerking her panties down
to her knees this time.  She was already sore beyond her tolerance, so
the next blows made her scream even worse when the belt struck her.

     "AHEAh! YAahEOW! OHOHWWiee!  Oh oh please stop it! OHHWEEE!  No!
NO oh please doOOOWWWHaaie!  WAAAH WWAAHH! oh stEEEEOWW! hucWWWAAAOOWW!"
She choked and gasped for breath as the sobs tore the breath from her
frail body under Mark's relentless assault with her thin leather belt.
Finally, he stopped.

     "Now!  Turn around and sit down!" Mark yelled.

     The trembling little girl obeyed instantly, without so much as a
gesture toward her panties.  She sat with them still around her knees,
her skirt up in back.  Her crying quieted down to little whimpers of
"oww, oh owwie, ow, ow" in between sniffles.  The other girls gave her
nervous glances but didn't speak to her.

     "So, where were we?  Oh yes.  Get up and tell us who you are," Mark
ordered, pointing to a girl in frayed white shorts and a faded halter
top that left quite a lot of skin exposed between them.

     She quickly stood, not wanting to give them the least excuse to
spank her.  "I'm Karen," she said, and bit off what she was about to add.

     "Except for the hair, you look like you could be twins with Tiffany
and Heather, Karen.  How old are you?"

     "Seven, and a couple of months," she answered promptly.

     "Who's your twin?" Robert asked.

     Karen looked at Robert, then fearfully back at Mark, wondering,
before saying "Sam" and pointing at a girl with shoulder-length wavy
black hair.  She was sitting on the recliner with her knees drawn up
to her chest.  She wore a cheap plaid dress, faded from much use, and
frayed at the hems.  Faded ribbons dangled from the sides.  The dress
may have been pretty once, but not for years.  It hid little in that
position, showing her even cheaper yellow panties to anyone who cared to
look.  There were a few who cared to, whenever they didn't think there
was something else better to see instead.

     "Oh great, another boy's name.  If you've got a prick we're going
to demand triple the price for babysitting you," Curt blurted out.  Jeff
gave him a stern look and he shut up.

     "Stand up," Mark ordered the girl on the recliner.  She put her
bare feet down on the carpet and stood, eyes downcast, twirling the
loose ribbons on her dress between her fingers.  "What's your whole
name?" he demanded of her.  "And look at me when you say it!"

     She lifted her chin and stammered out, "Samantha Elisabeth Sexton."
She dropped her chin back to her chest and stood waiting on his demands,
meekly submissive.

     "Cool!  Only one letter off!" Curt snickered, prompting another jab
from Jeff.  "Ouch!  Well, it's true!" he added in his defense.

     Mark ignored the interruption and walked up to Samantha.  Taking
her chin in his hand, he raised her face to his, and grinned down at
her.  "Well, Samantha, you're seven years old and a couple of months,
right?"  She nodded.  He released her and stood back.  "Tiffany says she
got a pony for her birthday.  Tell us what you got for yours."

     Samantha stood silent, too ashamed to answer.  "Tell him!" Karen
whispered desperately, not wanting to see her twin sister get the belt.
As an afterthought, she hoped that she wouldn't get it for whispering
without permission.

     "Um, I got a dress," Samantha finally stated, her cheeks tinged
with red.

     "Oh, a new dress?  What's it like?  Is it real purty?" Jeff teased.

     "No, not a new dress.  Just a dress.  This is it."  She blinked
back tears.  For her, this was almost as bad as getting spanked.  She
was used to being spanked, but in her mind, this was the worst torment
there could be.

     Sounds of giggling captured everyone's attention before the girl
could stifle herself.  Everyone looked over at Tiffany.  She sat on the
sofa beside her twin, her hand over her mouth, staring back at the hard
stares from the boys.  She held as still as a mouse under the gaze of a
hawk.

     "You!"  Jeff pointed.  "Get over here!"  He pointed to a spot
beside Samantha.  Tiffany still didn't move, frozen with terror.  By the
time she saw two angry teenage boys coming for her, it was too late to
amend her error.

     "I'm coming!  I'm coming!" she squealed in fright, struggling and
kicking her legs, as the boys picked her up between them, their fingers
digging into her frail arms.

     "That's the last time you'll ever say that, while we're around!"
Curt promised her, earning him another stare from Jeff.

     The boys deposited her where Jeff was pointing.  "You better not
move from that spot until we tell you to move," he threatened her.
"You know what will happen if you do."

     She gulped.  She knew.  She wondered what she was in for now.

     "Before we deal with this one, hadn't we better find out who these
other two girls are?" Robert suggested.

     "Good idea," Mark agreed.  "Sit down," he told Karen, and gestured
to the last two girls.  "Both of you, come out here."

     Two cute little girls, obviously twins, came out from behind the
sofa where they had hidden when Heather's spanking began.  They were
dressed in matching pink dresses, trimmed with bright pink ribbons
weaving back and forth up the front, and topped by lavender jackets.
Each girl had wavy blond hair, shoulder-length if let free, but held
in pigtails today by long shiny pink ribbons.  Their pretty white socks
had pink trim.  They wore no shoes.

     Hesitantly, they approached and stood before the boys, looking up
at them with frightened eyes.  They were not much more than half the
height of the boys.  They cowered down, emphasizing the differences.

     "What's your name?" Mark asked the first girl.

     "Rhiannon," she whispered.

     "Speak up, or pay the price," Robert warned, since he hadn't heard.

     "Now that's a good girl's name," Mark said, "but tell us your whole
name, and say it louder."

     "Rhiannon Serenity Fontana," she piped, loud enough to clearly
reveal the fear in her voice.

     "Now you, same thing," Mark demanded of Rhiannon's mirror image.

     "Melinda Compassion Fontana," came her timid reply.  She had to be
prompted twice more before she finally spoke loud enough for all the
boys to hear.  Curt looked disappointed that she wasn't going to get a
spanking.

     "Where are your shoes?" Jeff demanded to know.

     "Out by the door.  We're not allowed to wear them in here," Melinda
squeaked.

     "Why not?" he pressed.

     "Because they're not good enough!" Tiffany interrupted.  "They're
just ordinary shoes.  Not like my shoes," she added, showing off her
shiny elegant footwear.  "That's why they have to leave them out there
when they visit me."

     "Oh yes, fancy little Tiffany, in her fancy little shoes, and her
beautiful velvet skirt and silk blouse, laughing at Samantha's birthday
present.  I guess it's time for a change."  Jeff and Mark, the tallest
and strongest of the boys, casually returned to Tiffany, who had not
moved from her assigned place beside Samantha.



                           Chapter 2: The Trade-Off
                                 19 April 1998

     "You two, sit down!  You, get up and get over here!" Jeff gestured,
and the twins in pink sat while Karen jumped to attention. "And you two,
don't you move a muscle unless we tell you to move.  Got that?"

     Tiffany gulped and nodded.  She knew she was in trouble, and didn't
want it to be any worse.  Samantha just nodded, meekly.

     "Samantha, how would you like to have Tiffany's pretty clothes?"
Jeff asked.

     "No!  you can't do that!" Tiffany protested immediately, before she
realized what she was saying.  "I mean, um..." she stammered.

     For her part, Samantha just stood silent.  She nodded a little,
unsure how she was supposed to answer.  She looked over at the girl who
could have been her twin, and noticed the fancy clothes, and wished just
a little that they were hers.

     "Tiffany, put your hands behind your head and stay that way.  And
I'll be the one spanking you if you move," Jeff warned.  "Karen, Tiffany
has such a pretty white leather belt with her skirt.  Take it for your
sister."

     Karen moved up to Tiffany, looked her in the eye, and let a smile
cross her face.  She, too, had received a dress for her birthday, one
not quite as threadbare as Samantha's dress, so they shared it, taking
turns wearing it to church.  She admired the white leather belt as she
drew it out of the belt loops on the red velvet skirt.  She noticed with
some amusement that the skirt slid down a little, held up now only by
the ruffles in Tiffany's silk blouse.  Tiffany looked uneasy, and she
didn't smile back at Karen.

     "Now the skirt, Karen.  See how pretty it is?  Feel how soft it is?
I'm sure Samantha would love to have it."

     "No, please," Tiffany whispered, just a tiny little plea, which
brought only smiles and no sympathy from her audience.  She held still
as Karen unbuttoned one side of the skirt and let it drop to the floor
around Tiffany's fancy shoes.

     "Lift your feet, one at a time," Jeff told her.  She obeyed.  All
four boys, and all the girls as well, could now see her light pink silk
panties decorated with little red hearts.  Only the top was covered by
her blouse, as Karen took away the skirt and caressed it admiringly.

     "Now the blouse," Jeff said, and it was all he needed to say, as
Karen began unbuttoning from the top, working her way down Tiffany's
chest, until she was finished.  She drew the blouse aside, revealing
two pretty pink spots on a flat creamy background.  "Arms back!  Get
with it!" Jeff barked.

     "Oh please, please don't," Tiffany whined.  Robert and Curt took
her arms and twisted them behind her back.  "Eeeoww oh owwie, oh stop,
ohww!" the little girl whimpered.  They held her arms in place while
Karen worked the blouse down and off.  Tiffany stood in the center of
the room, the center of attention, wearing only her headband, panties,
hairclasps, socks, and fancy shoes.  She trembled, helpless and ashamed
and afraid in the grip of two unrelenting boys.

     "Hands back on your head!"  The command surprised nobody.  Tiffany
raised her arms high and spread her elbows, acutely aware how she was
showing her bare titties.

     "Now the shoes, which are too good for Tiffany," Jeff grinned at
her.  "Lift your feet, one at a time, or we'll lift them for you."  To
emphasize the alternative, Curt put his arms through hers and locked his
hands together behind her neck.  He stretched her arms back until she
squealed a little from the pain.  All of her ribs showed clearly on her
tightly stretched chest.

     Tiffany held up her left foot, letting Karen unbuckle the shoe and
pull it off.  She had no choice,  She knew it was either that or hang by
her arms bent behind her head while the same thing happened anyway, but
still she felt shame at helping them undress her.  She saw the stares of
the boys, and felt further shame at her uncovered titties and panties.
She let Karen pull off her right shoe, then held her feet up one by one
as Karen slid down the silky socks and tugged them off by their tassles.
Tiffany looked at the pile of her clothes on the floor, hoping vainly
that the boys would let go of her and let her put them back on.  When
Curt released her and stood back, she sudenly thought she was getting
her wish.  Her hopes were dashed immediately.

     "Nice headband, Tiffany.  I think it would look better on Samantha,
though.  What do you think, guys?"

     A chorus of agreement made Tiffany wilt in dismay.  "That's my
special headband, from my grammy," she protested.  "You can't have it!"

     "Wrong answer!" Jeff roared at her.  "Even if we had told you to
speak, which we didn't.  Do you remember what happens to girls who speak
when they aren't told to speak?"

     Tiffany cringed and cowered.  She sullenly stared at the floor, and
over at her pile of clothes, making no other response.

     "Answer me!  What happens to girls who speak when they aren't told
to speak?" Jeff demanded.  "Or who don't speak when we ask a question,
for that matter?"

     Tiffany swallowed hard.  "They get spanked," she mumbled, still
staring at the floor, hoping for some way out of it.  "I'm sorry," she
added, without much hope that it would help.

     "Well, you're not as stupid as we thought.  But that will come
later, Tiffany.  Right now, take off your headband.  Samantha, all of
this is just on loan to you today, you don't actually get to keep it, of
course."

     Tiffany brightened up a little at that, almost forgetting about the
spanking she was due to get, almost forgetting that she was standing in
the middle of the room naked but for her panties.  She remembered the
command just in time, and pulled her headband off, holding it out in her
hand, unsure what to do with it.  No command came, so she dropped it
with her other clothes rather than let Karen touch it.

     "Hands back behind your head," Jeff told her.  She obeyed without
comment.  "Karen, take her hairclasps out."

     "No!  Those are my -- uhh," Tiffany began, choking back her protest
a little too late.  She blinked away tears and held still as Karen stood
beside her and fumbled around with them.

     "I can't get them off," Karen finally admitted.

     "Maybe we'll just have to cut them off," Robert suggested, sounding
pleased at the idea.

     "Oh don't!  Don't!  I'll take them off!" Tiffany quickly begged,
looking over to Jeff for permission.  He nodded, and she found the catch
and took off the right one, then the left, and dropped them on the pile
with her headband.  She forgot to put her hands back behind her head
until Curt twisted her arm, making her scream.

     "Looks like she only has one thing left.  Do you want her panties,
too, Samantha?  Of course you do.  But you can't put her panties on
until you get your own panties off, right?"

     Samantha had been watching the procedure of the boys ordering Karen
to strip Tiffany, but she hadn't considered her own role in it.  Now she
understood, and blushed.  "I don't really want her clothes," she said,
"I want to keep mine on."

     "We didn't ask your opinion, Samantha.  Heather!  It's your turn to
help out.  Get over here."

     Heather painfully stood, wiped away a few tear tracks, and started
over.  Her panties fell from her knees down to her ankles, making it
hard for her to walk, but she didn't reach down to pull them up this
time.  The boys laughed at her as she stumbled over, shame-faced.

     "Samantha, raise your arms high," Jeff ordered.  Like a robot, she
obeyed, the only sign of disobedience being the frightened look on her
face.  "Heather, take her dress off.  And be careful with it, it's her
birthday present!" he laughed.

     Heather lifted the hem of Samantha's dress and pulled it up, higher
and higher, revealing a nice pair of legs the boys had already seen, a
faded pair of yellow panties likewise, a slightly rounded tummy, a nice
beautiful flat chest with tiny pink nipples for decoration, and finally
her slender arms.  The dress bunched up around Samantha's neck, making
it difficult for Heather to push it any higher.

     "Lean over!" Mark told her, and pushed Samantha forward.  She bent
at the waist and held steady as Heather pulled the hem of the dress out
and finally had it inside-out around Samantha's head and arms.  Samantha
shivered, knowing she was even more naked than Tiffany now, after just
one item removed, since her panties were torn and tattered, with several
large holes, while the other girl's panties were new silk.  She still
didn't dare to resist the boys, even when two of them held her arms,
making it easier for Heather to get the dress the rest of the way off.
They roughly pulled her back upright, leering at her nakedness the same
way they had with Tiffany.  She tried to cover her chest with her arms,
but Curt and Robert each took an arm and bent them back behind her as
far as they could bend.

     "Oww, owh, eie!" she whimpered, when the boys twisted her arms up
at a sharp angle and held them firmly.  They lifted her slightly, and
Samantha stood on her toes trying to relieve the pain.  "Oww, oh owww,
ahhaoww," she cried, tears flowing freely.  "Why are you hurting me!?"
she whined, "I didn't do anything!!"  They didn't answer, only laughed
at her, cruel laughter without humor.  Nor did they release her.

     "Panties now, Heather!  On your knees first, then pull them down
and take them off."  Heather had a difficult time getting on her knees,
with her own panties around her ankles, but she managed without a word.

     As she reached out to take Samantha's panties, Samantha began
struggling and squirming.  "No!  Let me go!" she pleaded.  "OWWoowwow!"
she screamed as the boys lifted her full weight by her bent arms.  She
kicked and twisted, but nothing stopped the pain.  Her foot knocked
Heather over, and everyone got a quick glimpse of her bare bottom again
before she got her skirt back down.  Heather was angry now, and grabbed
Samantha, holding the struggling girl's legs with both arms, and got a
handful of her panties in back.  She ripped them downward quickly, but
instead of the panties coming down, they tore worse, leaving a gaping
hole in the back and halfway around the side.  Seeing what she'd begun,
Heather continued the work, ripping Samantha's panties the rest of the
way around so that only the waistband remained.

     "Stop it!  Stop it!" Samantha screamed as she felt her panties
being torn off of her, but her kicking and struggling only hurt herself,
making no difference in the end.  Heather jerked the remains of the torn
yellow panties down Samantha's leg and pulled them off.  Only a small
band covered Samantha's belly, with a few shreds of yellow cloth waving
free as she squirmed.  Heather took the waistband and jerked it down and
pulled it off.

     "Well now you've done it, Heather.  You realize those are the
panties that Tiffany has to wear, don't you?" Jeff grinned as Tiffany
bit her lip and Heather looked at her apologetically.  "Now," he
addressed Samantha, "You better stand there and shut up from now on.
You've earned yourself a really good spanking.  Don't add to it.  Your
turn, Tiffany.  Karen!  Over here!"  Curt and Robert followed her over
when they saw that Samantha was no longer resisting, but standing naked
trying to cover as much as possible with her small hands.

     Tiffany went white.  "Oh come on, you can't do this to me!" she
screamed, as they took her arms and bent them back.  She screamed louder
than Samantha had, when the boys lifted her off the floor by her arms.
They each grabbed an ankle and bent her legs back at the knee so she
couldn't kick.  Tiffany shrieked and struggled frantically.

     "Get her panties, Karen, but don't rip them or you'll regret it."
Karen carefully slid down the soft silky material, working it past the
crying girl's hips and down her thighs to her knees.  The boys dropped
Tiffany's ankles to let Karen take the panties off the rest of the way.
By then Tiffany merely hung in their grip, sobbing from the pain in her
arms, letting them finish stripping her completely naked.  When they
dropped her back down, she just hugged her sore arms and cried, not
trying to cover herself at all.

     "Alright, we have two more spankings to give, then you can put on
your clothes.  Tiffany, lay across this footstool.  And if we hear any
argument, your spaking will be that much worse.  Samantha, you're next,
so pay close attention, in case you missed anything with Heather."

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

      This and other stories by Georgie Porgie can be found at:
                http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www
-- 
 {Georgie Porgie} georgieporgie@fastmail.fm
 http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/GeorgiePorgie/www

-- 
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>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+