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Subject: {ASSM} Escape From Buggery Ch. Five (5/20) {Bradley Stoke} {FF (caution)}
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Title: {ASSM} Escape From Buggery Ch. Five (5/20) {Bradley Stoke} {FF (caution)}
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 5 of 20
Keywords: FF (caution)
Short Summary: Sharon and Tracey are entertained by Primrose and her friends.
Escape from Buggery
===================
Synopsis of whole novel
======================
Sex tourism is an adventure, but for Sharon and Tracey their
trip to Buggery was rather more of an adventure than they'd
anticipated. And certainly more than the brochure advertised.
This is a dark disturbing novel in a world the sex tourist
would rather not know about.
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
Previously
==========
Sharon and Tracey are attempting to escape from buggery, but get
exhausted walking through the countryside. They are helped out
by Primrose, a school teacher
Chapter Five
============
"Who the fuck are you?" were the words by which the two
girls were woken just a few hours later. They raised up their
weary heads from the hard straw pillows which had come to
seem so incredibly comfortable, and blearily focused on the
towering figure of a woman dressed only in leather boots and
leather shoulder-pads. This in itself made the woman a
formidable and intimidating sight, but this was reinforced by a
body which was more muscular than either Sharon or Tracey
were sure a woman's body should ever be. But she was clearly
a woman, and one who shaved her vagina as well. Although
nearly naked, rather a lot of heavy iron and leather decorated
her, dangling from pierced nipples and vagina. She wore a
leather belt around her waist from which dangled a long holster
for a truncheon and a collection of buckled leather bags.
"We're friends of Primrose," explained Sharon wearily.
"They're tourists, Tiger Lilly dearest," added Primrose who
entered the room at that moment. "I found them lying under the
baobab, absolutely exhausted and suffering from heat stroke. I
don't know how they'd got there, but it was obvious they
couldn't stay there forever. So I thought I'd bring them back
home to keep them away from trouble."
"By bringing trouble here to our fucking cottage, you mean!"
"Tiger Lilly, what harm does it do? As long as they're on their
way soon we'll be alright."
"It's not for us to harbour foreigners. They might be fucking
spies or something! We should hand them in to the authorities
so that they can be properly processed."
"Like processed meat, you mean, Tiger Lilly. Do you want then
to be raped and humiliated by the police. It's obvious they're
not spies. They're just ignorant tourists. They probably just got
lost going to the beach." Primrose smiled indulgently at the
pathetic sight of Sharon and Tracey's peeling sunburn and raw
red marks on their upper chest. "I mean, I know you're police
yourself, but if we took them in you don't think your colleagues
won't give you a bit of rough interrogation as well. Once the
police get their hands into anything, they usually leave more
battered bodies and corpses around than there were to start off
with. They'd suspect the heir apparent if he happened to be
passing by. No, Tiger Lilly sweetheart, things'd only get worse
if we took them to the authorities. Leave them to relax. No
one'll tell the police, and you know it."
Tiger Lilly snorted reluctantly, and let Primrose escort her out
of the bedroom, leaving the two girls slumped on the bed.
Sharon was feeling ever so faintly sick and Tracey had a
persistent burning sensation on her shoulders and on the top of
her bum which just didn't seem to want to go away. Within
seconds, they collapsed back into a feverish sleep, their naked
bodies intertwined to stop themselves falling off the edges of
the single bed.
It was about an hour later that Primrose returned to the
bedroom with a faint smile. "We'd best get you two tidied up!"
she said, handing the girls sleeveless white cotton blouses which
would come down to the base of their breasts and no further.
They had no chance to put them on, as she then produced a
small tin bowl in the warm steamy water of which was floating a
large sponge. Then with no evidence of ceremony, Primrose
started vigorously scrubbing Sharon's face, body and limbs. It
was like scrubbing a floor dry. Every few seconds she would
squeeze out the moisture from the sponge into the bowl, and
then began scrubbing other parts. As soon as she'd judged that
Sharon was clean, she started scrubbing Tracey with just the
same vigour. When her attention came to the area between
Tracey's legs where all her rings were dangling from her
reddened and sore stubbled vagina, she paused as if in thought.
She then leant forward and briefly kissed Tracey's pierced
clitoris.
"That's a lovely ring!" She said smiling. "That would cost me
more than a month's wages."
"Is it?" wondered Tracey, who had actually thought it
remarkably cheap compared to how much such jewellery
would have cost back home. Of course, she'd not actually paid
for it, but, even taking into account the cost of the piercing, she
knew it was substantially cheaper than any of the countless
fucks she'd had in Throb.
"It's beautiful!" Primrose continued, picking up the sponge and
proceeding to scrub the dust and dirt off Tracey's legs. "But
you tourists just don't know the value of things do you? At least
that's what we hear. That you're all stupid and sex-mad, but
ridiculously wealthy." She paused thoughtfully. "Is it true, that? I
mean, that you're wealthy?"
"What do you fucking think!" snorted Sharon. "Do we look like
we're rich?"
"I don't know," said Primrose sadly. "I don't know what rich
people look like. I've never seen one in my life."
Primrose finally finished her cleaning and squeezed out the filthy
water into the tin bowl. "You're clearly pretty na<ve, aren't you,"
she continued. "Things in Buggery are quite different to
wherever you come from, I can see that. I'd better give you a
bit of advice on what to wear here. It's very important you do,
otherwise you'll be picked up by the police, and, believe me,
that is the very last thing you want to happen. In fact, it could
well be the last thing that does happen to you. Fortunately, the
police are relatively lax in this district, but you've still got to be
pretty careful about your appearance. If you look too much out
of place, you'll be arrested and then ? Well, I don't know
what, but when the police get hold of you, it'll be lucky if you'll
survive their interrogation. You mustn't wear anything from the
knee to the midriff. The punishment for non-observance is
arbitrary and cruel. So, if I were you, put on these old blouses
of mine and, if you don't want to attract attention keep your
jewellery down to just one ring about here." She fingered the
ring she had joining the two flaps of her vulva.
"Who decides what people wear?" wondered Sharon as she
detached her earrings and nose-stud, and placed them on the
rickety bedside table. She glanced around the room, having
recovered sufficiently after her scrubbing to comprehend things.
Not only was it very small, but it was very bare. The only
decoration was a faded portrait of the king.
Primrose followed Sharon's gaze. "Him, of course. The King.
And he changes his mind all the time! Not long ago, people
were allowed to wear shorts or little skirts as long as they
covered less than two inches of inside leg. But then he decided
we all had to have little cunt-rings, and to make sure we were
wearing them we were proscribed from wearing anything down
there."
"What happened to all the shorts and skirts?"
"Oh they were publicly burnt. There was a big festival, which
everyone had to attend. Everyone had to express their love for
the King and his wisdom and burn their clothes. If the police
suspected that you were holding back on any clothes, then you
risked having your house burnt down and your genitals
mutilated."
Primrose stroked the tangled hairs of Tracey's cunt. "My gosh!
This has been well used!" she commented looking at a cunt torn
inside out after years of promiscuity. "You'll have to keep this
cut short too. They don't like pubic hair obscuring anything.
That's also illegal."
"Should we shave it all off like you and Tiger Lilly?" wondered
Sharon who quite fancied the idea.
"Well, we're teachers and we're expected to shave our pubes.
Different classes and statuses have different rules, you know.
Most peasants in this country are never allowed to shave their
pubic hair, and no way could you pass off as a peasant. You're
too well-fed for a start, and there are no calluses on your
fingers. And you obviously wear shoes most of the time,
judging from your tender soles."
After the girls had put on the blouses, which were slightly too
tight, Primrose took them down to the small dining room where
they met Tiger Lilly again, and Chrysanthemum. She was the
other teacher who lived in the cottage. The two teachers were
watching the flickering black and white pictures on a small
television. It was, of course, screening Buggery Broadcasting
Television.
Chrysanthemum was stunningly beautiful, but she wore no
clothes, her straight blonde hair reached to her bottom and like
the others she had shaved her pubic hair, but also everywhere
else as well. When she stood up, she revealed that she was
quite tall and sported an unbelievably perfect set of teeth.
"Welcome to our humble home," she smiled broadly and
reassuringly.
Tiger Lilly was holding Chrysanthemum's hand, but looked
rather less beautiful than her lover. She had a broken nose and
long crooked scar across her stomach. She smiled with rather
less warmth than either of the other two. "What do you think of
Buggery?" she asked.
"The television's funny," commented Sharon.
"That's almost entirely for the benefit of the Royal Academy,"
laughed Chrysanthemum. "The moral centre of our society, if
you like. It's only at the Royal Academies and their grounds
that anyone is ever really like the people on television in the
way they dress. And nowhere in the Kingdom is real life like
what they show."
"It's all a fantasy world," added Primrose, who was aware of
the girls' confusion. "It's just to tell us what the ideals of our
society are supposed to be. Nobody's really like that!"
"But what about the people who appear on it?"
"What about the people who service tourists at Pederasty and
all the other tourist centres in this country?" retorted Primrose.
"There are a lot of different trades and professions. Some of
those like acting, or serving at the Royal Palace, or working for
the police force, or entertaining tourists, are so specialised that
they have different schools, different ethics, different places to
live, different expectations and so on."
"Like teachers," suggested Tracey.
"Well, almost," conceded Primrose. "I can only teach in the
kind of school I was taught in, though I do have the unusual
freedom to mix with people who teach in different schools, and
who were themselves taught in those kind of schools."
"Most of the people round here in this borough are what you
might call ordinary people," smiled Chrysanthemum. She was
always smiling. Tracey felt a curiously warm feeling and was
wondering whether she was already falling in love with the
woman. "This is a very ordinary area."
"80% peasant, of which 50% are given the opportunity to
progress at school to the extent that they will always be
dissatisfied with their lot. 20% middle-class, of which 50% will
be automatically demoted to peasant if they aren't seen to
conform sufficiently. Within each group, slightly different
standards of dress and behaviour so you know exactly what
you're standing is in society."
"That's all fucking well, Primrose," sniffed Tiger Lilly. "What are
we going to do with these tourists? Chain them down and rape
them? Tether them to fucking stakes?"
"Don't be so vulgar, Tiger Lilly dearest," exclaimed
Chrysanthemum, but with an indulgent smile. "I'm sure the girls
will be quite happy to have sex with you without being forced
to."
"We'll just give them a night's sleep and set them off to
Gomorrah," explained Primrose.
"Gomorrah!" gasped Sharon. "Isn't Buggery at war with
Gomorrah?"
"Who fucking isn't!" expostulated Tiger Lilly.
"If you go back to Throb, you risk being arrested, raped and
mutilated for straying out of the tourist areas. If you stay here,
you'll eventually be found, arrested, raped and mutilated for
being terrorists. If you try to get to the Embassy districts, you'll
be arrested, raped and mutilated as spies. You're probably
going to get killed whatever you do! Buggery's not a very good
place for foreigners. The Royal Government doesn't want the
rest of the world to know what the country is like, except
where its attracts tourism, and then almost exclusively to sell
sex. They'll kill you to prevent you telling anyone what it's like
here. They would prefer to continue to be criticised for the
questionable nature of the sex on offer, than for how most
people live here. If you get to Gomorrah, you might at least be
protected as a propaganda weapon by the Gomorrans."
Sharon shivered. This was worse than she'd feared. "Is it really
that bad?"
Tiger Lilly smiled grimly. "I don't know what you thought
Buggery would be, but Paradise it fucking well isn't!"
The teachers prepared a dinner for the five of them which
consisted mostly of vegetables and rice. "All local produce!"
announced Chrysanthemum proudly.
"Well, actually local produce is all we can buy," qualified
Primrose.
The television was left on with the sound turned down. It was
screening a scene of a man masturbating into a cup: an exercise
somehow associated with a cookery programme.
"I teach at the local Secondary School," Primrose went on, "so
I get the best selection of local produce from my pupils. They
seem to think that if they give me things, they might do better in
their exams; but since they all bring me things, none of them
could possibly have an advantage over another."
"What's the school like?" wondered Tracey, who hadn't really
attended school very much when she was a schoolgirl. She'd
spent most days playing truant with the boys, with whom she'd
wander the streets or go somewhere to indulge in drink, drugs,
cigarettes and sex.
"It's a fairly ordinary school, by Buggery standards. But I
imagine it's quite different from where you come from. The
central doctrine of Buggery society is that all the people of
Buggery be in a state of humiliation imposed on them by the
King. It is an expression of the people's utter obedience and
servility to the Crown and is instilled from the earliest age. Part
of the humiliation of course is that it is progressive, so before
the children come to Secondary School they have never known
sexual humiliation or indeed cruelty of any kind.
"Primary schools in Buggery are kept quite separate from the
rest of society, and no adults (except teachers) are ever
allowed there. Most of us can only ever remember them
distantly, and as we start secondary school education at eight
our memories of them become disjointed. All I know, is that
children who leave Primary School are totally unprepared for
Secondary School. Not everyone joins Secondary School, but
those who do are well and fit. When they leave Primary School
they are allocated to 'parents' according to eugenic principles.
Nobody really knows who their real parents are, as breeding
centres, like Primary schools, are hidden away somewhere out
of sight.
"The 'parents' send them to Secondary School and are obliged
by law to give the children as much care and attention as they
can. The 'parents' are officially only allowed a certain degree of
parental abuse (but that's one of the few things that isn't very
well enforced) and these must only take place at certain
festivals. The children stay at school until they are in a position
to either graduate, in which case they leave the district, or to be
turned to work. Most (perhaps 80% of them) will become
peasants in this area and in turn become assigned 'parents'. If
they become pregnant, they will be sent to the breeding
centres, and as often as not they never return.
"School children must dress according to strict dress
conventions, which must reflect the general dress code of the
district and their position in class (which is often different to
those of their parents). The main criteria of distinction are
clothes, hair-length, pubic hair and jewellery. Girls and boys
are dressed and treated identically. No allowances are made
for their different sexuality, even during sex classes. In my
school, and I'm sure there are similar rules elsewhere, the
higher grading a child has then the longer the hair, the shorter
the pubic hair, the more clothes and jewellery. The top pupil
then has very long hair, no pubic hair, plenty of jewellery and
the maximum amount of clothes permitted within the rules of
this district. The lowest grade pupils, of which there are several,
have their heads shaved, an untidy bush of pubic hair, no
clothes and only a large steel cunt-ring.
"The pupils are evaluated according to a number of factors
which include physical appearance, physical fitness, academic
brightness, good behaviour and sexual performance. The top
pupils are granted special privileges such as a more generous
food allowance, exemption from certain of the daily humilities
such as arse-licking and orgy practice. The lowest pupils would
almost consider such humilities as privileges. They can be, and
are, treated badly by all pupils with the teachers leading by
example. They are to be shat on, pissed on, buggered, beaten
up, whipped, etc. The justification is that this is to encourage
these pupils to pull themselves together. Instead most leave the
school altogether and some kill themselves. This is not
considered to be a cause for much regret or sorrow.
"As teachers we are obliged to conduct the daily humiliations,
which include random buggery, cold showers and the ritual
tearing up of pupils' clothes. Any excuse for punishing the
pupils must be taken enthusiastically, and punishment will only
stop after the requisite amount of blood has been shed. Pupils
try to avoid punishment because if their physical beauty is
impaired in any way they may drop a grade and begin the long
slide towards the bottom.
"The reason for all this humility is to show respect towards the
King. This is best illustrated during the festivals on national and
local holidays, which can be quite frequent when the country is
deemed to be doing particularly well at the war. Otherwise,
they mostly mark birthdays and anniversaries associated with
the Royal Family. For each festival, there is usually a specific
ceremony or rite which must be performed. In many cases
these are just species of orgy. In some cases, pupils have to
demonstrate their sexual skills to other pupils, which may
include being buggered by fellow pupils or giving blow jobs to
members of staff. One not very pleasant ceremony to mark a
victory over the Sodomites in the last Sodomite War involved
pupils eating each others' turds and drinking their piss. There
was a lot of illness the following day; and inevitably some of it
was fatal.
"The King is praised during formal ceremonies at five intervals
during the day. On arrival at school, the pupils must close their
eyes and masturbate the pupil nearest to them to show their
desire for the King. The next occasion is when the pupils listen
to a Television Broadcast given by a representative of the King
which outlines any new duties and responsibilities. They must
meditate on this. The third occasion is the arse-licking
ceremony where after cleaning their bottoms, they must lick
clean the arse of another pupil. This demonstrates the need for
thorough arse-cleaning. Some pupils are not popular for the
state of their arses. The fourth occasion is the school orgy,
where selected pupils have sex with each other and the rest of
the school observe. This is important for the pupils, as their
grading depends on their sexual performance. The fifth
observation at the end of the school day is to kiss the penis of
the statue of the King outside the school as they leave. Some to
show their greater love, will, of course, insert their anuses or
vaginas over the penis.
"The academic classes are much like those in the schools in
your country I imagine, though the pupils are obliged to take
their clothes off in Regal Studies, Physical Education, Sex
Education, Games and Biology. Regal Studies is where they
learn about the events in the King's life, the history of the Royal
Family and are taught about his great wisdom and sayings.
During this class, the students have chains attached to their
cunt-rings which are attached at the other end to the teacher's
cunt-ring. I can tell you this is a very uncomfortable lesson for
me to have to teach."
"The contrast with the Royal Academy where I teach couldn't
be greater," smiled Chrysanthemum. "The girls, (and they are all
girls) are taught to worship the King, but are not taught
humiliation. Merely obedience. The world the Academy girls
are told about is one like that of the Buggery Broadcasting
Corporation TV programmes. In fact, the only place that I
know of where life at all resembles that shown on television is
at the Academy. All the girls at the Royal Academy are
groomed for future work at the Royal Court and consequently
they are amongst the few people in this country who stand
much likelihood of ever seeing His Majesty in the flesh. As
opposed to on the many billboards and in the form of officially
approved statues and portraits.
"According to the strict Eugenic practices of Buggery society,
enforced rigidly from birth, only the best girls are ever likely to
go to the Royal Academies. Even the primary schools they
attend are segregated from the rest of the country. The girls in
the Royal Academy know nothing about the rest of Buggery,
beyond what they see on television. I don't think they'd like it if
they did see it, but it's unlikely they would ever miss it. The
school grounds where they live are very large and very
beautiful. Most people in Buggery never get to see such
beautiful woodland, fields, lakes and gardens as those
surrounding the Academy. And although the girls are prohibited
from passing through the Academy's perimeters, very few of
them are ever likely to be tempted to do so.
"School at the Royal Academy is made as pleasant as possible.
The girls are kept innocent of many things that might seem
bizarre to you foreigners. They know nothing about clothes,
and as you can see from watching television they wouldn't
know about clothes from there either. They all have very long
hair and they all shave their pubic hairs. Only the very few
pupils of black or oriental origin shave their heads (and this is
mandatory) but they are not discriminated against and are
treated very kindly. If not indulgently.
"The girls are taught academic subjects, physical education and
Regal studies just like at other schools in Buggery, but Sex
Education is always only conducted between themselves. That
is, the girls are expected and very much encouraged to make
love with each other. The incentive for this is a certain
competitiveness to gain prestige and a good reputation, but this
is not reflected by any difference in how the girls are treated.
Certainly not in the brutal way they are at Primrose's school.
The black and oriental girls are particularly popular for sex
games because of their curiosity value.
"As a teacher I am expected to make love to the girls. This I
have to do several times a day: usually outside in the gardens
and always with other girls watching. I also have to make love
with the male members of staff. These are the only men the girls
ever meet. The men are not permitted to have sex with the girls
and are solely there to demonstrate heterosexual sex, without
which the girls would really have no idea what to do when they
attend the Royal Courts. I have sex with a man, in a variety of
different positions, at least twice a day, with the girls watching
and clapping. Unlike Primrose's school, there's not much anal
intercourse but I do have to provide the occasional special
performance. Although the men are not permitted to have sex
with the girls, they are expected to have sex with each other as
well as the women teachers. I can't complain about the men.
They are all very attractive and they are all very good at
making love. They are not allowed to do anything else, and
they sleep well away from the girls. The reason for this is that
the girls must be technically virgins: at least in the sense that
their maidenheads must remain intact when they leave the
school and go to the Royal Court.
"It's a very pleasant life for the girls at the Royal Academy. I
really cannot complain about the privilege I have of working
there. It's also of course the kind of school I went to. I don't
know what happens to the girls when they get to the Royal
Court, but they are certainly well-groomed for the status they
are expected to maintain."
"It's not so nice at the fucking Police School," commented Tiger
Lilly. "Not at all so fucking nice. Not even as nice as Primrose's
pissing nancy school. The pupils, girls or boys, come straight
from primary school and then we make them. We give them a
body they're going to be fucking proud of," she flexed her own
muscles, "we teach them respect for the King and how to get
others to respect the King.
"When I'm in the classroom, the pupils have to do what the
fuck I tell them. If that means a few bones get broken or your
skin gets torn, well fuck it! The pupils have to accept I'll fuck
them whenever I went, wherever I want, whether they're boys
or girls." Tiger Lilly waved her plastic truncheon which Sharon
could now see was in actual fact a double-ended dildo. "I
expect a good fuck from each of my pupils. There are no
fucking grades at Police School. You're either in or you're
fucking out and fuck you!
"We show them how to be good police. The ways to fuck
people and fuck them up if they're any fucking trouble. We
show them torture and we teach them the law."
"It's by having a brutal police force," Primrose explained
reassuringly, "that people in Buggery learn how to support the
Royal Government. You put a toe out of line and you're
tortured, mutilated and, if you're lucky, killed."
"Fucking right we're brutal," agreed Tiger Lilly proudly. "No
fucking bastard can say no to me. I'll fucking tear out his or her
genitals and eat them in front of them. I've done that before
now. I'll shove this thing so high up their rear end it pops out
their fucking mouth. I'll kick them and beat them so fucking
hard and then get them pleading for more. You can't keep
people down without a bit of brutality."
"Don't worry about Tiger Lilly," smiled Chrysanthemum. "She's
not going to torture you two, but, on the other hand, if she
wants sex with you I wouldn't argue."
"Too fucking right you won't!" Tiger Lilly agreed.
"There are other kinds of schools," elaborated Primrose.
"There are schools for actors, which are much more like
Chrysanthemum's school than mine. There are schools for
tourism. In fact, there's one not far from Pederasty where you
were, which teaches all the boys there how to do their trade."
"What happens," wondered Sharon, "to these boys if they
didn't feel like having sex with a tourist? You know because
they feel a bit off or something?"
"I'd be surprised," said Primrose a little grimly, "if there are
many occasions they actually do want sex with a tourist. It's
just what they're trained to do and if they don't do it well then
they're out."
"What happens to them then?"
"Nobody knows. I don't know what'd happen to me if it was
decided I couldn't teach anymore. All we know is that people
eventually vanish. They get arrested by police, they go to the
breeding centres, they get called up to fight in whatever war
there is, they go to hospital. And then they never come back.
We don't know what happens, but all the rumours are fairly
unpleasant."
Sharon didn't like the sound of any of these accounts of life in
Buggery, She glanced at Tracey, who was nervously clasping
and unclasping her fingers, and looking rather depressed. Her
head was down and her eyes seemed to be focused on the
ragged edges of the rug on the cottage floor. Sharon faced
Primrose, who she thought was the most sympathetic to the
girls' plight. "What are we going to do?" she pleaded.
"You're not fucking staying here," said Tiger Lilly bluntly.
"I'm afraid that's true," agreed Primrose. "You're going to have
to get moving. And soon! It'll be dangerous though. If you get
caught by the police you'll almost certainly be as good as dead
so you'll have to avoid being seen by them at all costs."
"Should we go disguised as something?" Tracey asked. "Are
there people who can wander anywhere in this country?"
"Well, yes," considered Primrose. "The Sodomite Pilgrims can
wander anywhere in this country and they're never troubled."
"So, should we dress as Sodomite pilgrims?"
"What a fucking joke!" chortled Tiger Lilly.
"I wouldn't," shuddered Chrysanthemum. "Sodomite Pilgrims
come from Sodom. They come here to visit the sites in this
country which are considered significant in the history of
Sodomy. This is usually as a result of their various wars with
Buggery over the centuries. I don't know much about Sodom.
And I don't think anyone in Buggery does. Sodom doesn't even
have the tourism you find in this country. But if the Sodomite
Pilgrims are anything to go by, Sodom is probably an even
more unattractive country than this.
"Sodomite priests are almost all women but some are men.
They wear no clothes but chains which are threaded into their
noses, genitals and other places. Their heads are shaved and
they have tattoos on their faces which seem to indicate their
status. They travel from town to town, village to village begging
for food as they go. When they arrive at a place of worship
they lie face down to the ground with their bottoms to the air.
They then invite passing people to bugger them or to insert
things into their anuses.
"Sodom must be a very brutal country. The women have their
vaginas sewn together so that nothing can enter them, and when
they piss it squirts uncontrollably down their legs. Many of their
rituals seem to involve drinking each other's urine and eating
their faeces which they mostly do when people are watching.
No one has ever heard them speak because they all have their
tongues torn out, and in certain cases they have their hands
removed so that they only have stumps at the end of their arms.
It's thought that this is done so they can't tell anyone what
they've seen in Buggery (and if they can write, not to write it
down), but of course it also means they can't tell anyone in
Buggery or elsewhere about Sodom.
"They seem to have a cult of violence. They always seem to be
beating and whipping each other. If it wasn't for the baldness,
tattoos, nudity and chains, a Sodomite pilgrim would be
identified by the broken nose, broken teeth, missing fingers and
toes, and all the horrible scars. Many of the scars seem to be
on the buttocks which they seem to be very enthusiastic about
beating with whips and sticks. They often seem distressed
when people from Buggery don't bugger them when they are
covered in blood, piss and shit.
"So, I wouldn't recommend you cut out your tongue and so on
to pretend to be a Sodomite Pilgrim. Nor, for that matter,
would I suggest visiting Sodom. Not many people cross the
border except Sodomite Pilgrims and I think they do because
however awful Buggery might be, Sodom must be much
worse."
"You'll have to dress as an ordinary citizen from Buggery,"
recommended Primrose. "This means we'll have to do
something about your hair and I'm afraid you won't be able to
wear any jewellery except a single cunt ring."
"What'll happen to all our bangles and rings?" wondered
Tracey, who despite the pain they'd given her today had grown
rather fond of them.
"We'll keep them," announced Tiger Lilly brusquely.
"I'm afraid we will. They're no use to you. And you don't want
anyone finding them on you." Primrose concurred.
After dinner, Sharon and Tracey sadly discarded their
jewellery, leaving a row of small holes in their nipples and labia.
Primrose let the girls keep the blouses she had lent them, but
she still insisted that they take not put them on yet. These had
been left to her by school pupils who had been demoted and
therefore had no further use for them. Chrysanthemum brushed
their hair to a less wild state and attached a little chain to a
small plain ring she threaded into the vulva. The two girls were
given cloth bags to carry their few possessions in, which
Primrose said would be much was less conspicuous than their
beach bags.
The reason neither girl was allowed to put on their clothes was
because Tiger Lilly was insistent that she had sex with the two
of them. Chrysanthemum and Primrose agreed to watch, but
said that they'd had too much sex already that day to feel
inclined to participate themselves.
"I'm so sore!" complained Chrysanthemum, "otherwise I'd fuck
you like a real expert."
"I am a fucking expert," snorted Tiger Lilly proudly.
"But a bit rough, dearest!" complained Primrose. And Tiger
Lilly was indeed rough. Far more so than the boys at home.
She slapped them about the face and buttocks. Pushed her fist
right up their cunts. Pummelled their anuses with thrusts of her
muscular middle finger. Bit the nipples on their breasts so hard
that the girls wondered whether they might be bitten off. All the
while, Tiger Lilly grinned and occasionally plunged her fingers
into her own moist and cavernous cunt. Except for the odd
grunt and the occasional barked command, she said nothing to
the girls: especially nothing that could be construed as
comforting. Then she tied the dildo around her waist and
buggered the two girls so hard that they were pleading for her
to stop.
"Fuck no!" Tiger Lilly retorted. "I've only fucking started." And
indeed she had. When she had finished, Sharon's nose was
bleeding and one eye was swollen with the start of a bruise.
Tracey's bottom felt so red and sore, that she wasn't sure how
she could ever sit on it. The girls were then tied to a tree
outside the cottage, just by the well, near the goat who was
desultorily chewing on some hay. Their hands were tied
together behind them and their arms pulled up to a branch. One
end of a flexible rubber dildo was pushed unceremoniously into
each girl's cunt and their feet were tied together. It was cold
outside, but the girls had to stay in this uncomfortable position
for an hour or so. They were told to keep their tongues deep
inside each others' mouth on pain of being hit. By this time, they
were so bruised and battered that they gladly engaged in tiring
tongue kissing just to avoid the physical penalties which Tiger
Lilly was so keen on.
Eventually, Primrose came out of the cottage. She smiled
weakly while she untied them and then brought the two girls
into the house. She nursed their wounds and kissed the girls
tenderly. "Don't worry about Tiger Lilly. She's used to being a
bit rougher than that, but if she hadn't liked you I don't think
you'd be alive now."
Sharon fingered her bruise. "Won't this mean we'll be noticed
even more now?"
"Nonsense," Primrose laughed. "We've got you up as fairly
ordinary if relatively privileged natives, and a few bruises and
scratches are hopefully going to make you look rather less
remarkable. After all, tourists don't normally get beaten up in
this country so no one's going to think that's what you are."
"How far is it to Gomorrah?" wondered Tracey who was
wishing this day had never began.
"Not near enough for you, I'm afraid" smiled Primrose sadly.
She left the two girls naked on the bed where they were left to
feel the warm ache of their bruises and pains and the warm
moistness of their tears as they gathered in damp patches on
the pillow by their slumped and battered faces.
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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