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From: "XtremeInk" <XtremeInk@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Replay 3 (final) (f/f ffff/f multi scat horror torture SM)
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Date: Tue, 22 Mar 2005 03:10:04 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

XTI Stories are all extreme.  They usually involve young teens,
and can have almost any subject matter.  Except snuff, which I
don't really like.


Don't try this at home.  If you're too stupid to understand that
it's a fantasy, you should be locked up.

Replay
Chapter 3

     	When school started, I thought I'd get a reprieve from my
sister's torture.  I was wrong.  In a big, big way.  Every single day,
for the next four years, she made my life hell.

     	You see, she liked pretty things.  Pretty things that she needed
money to buy. Mom didn't have money to spare and told Lisa to get a
job.  But my sister never needed to work --  she just rented me out.

     	Once again, it seemed as if reality ceased to exist when Lisa was
involved.  You'd think that _someone_ would notice that that there was
an eight year old girl in the high school being used as a sex toy by
anyone who could pay.  Especially since that included the faculty as
well.  But no.  Aside from getting bitched at by my mother for getting
a D in every class I had, no one said a thing.  My lunch periods, gym
period, and any other time of day Lisa wanted me, were spent servicing
her clients.  Why, I don't know, since she had sex with them for free.
Maybe it was the fact that they got to torture an eight year old, I
don't know.

        When I got called to the principal's office in my school, I
thought that he'd found out about what was going on and was going to
say something.  Nope.  Lisa was there waiting with him.  He stripped
me, then beat my backside with the edge of a metal yard stick until I
bled.  Next he flipped me over and put me on the top of the desk and
used my other hole.  I was wet from the beating, of course.  I always
got wet from pain now, and some of it provided lubrication in that
other hole.  The blood provided more.

        He slammed in and out of my small body while Lisa held my hands
over my head.  He used the ruler on my chest, cutting it and my
nipples, as he beat me until he came.  Afterward I licked his cock
clean of my blood and dirt --  and his cum, while Lisa noisily sucked
more out of my ravaged hole.  She opened her mouth to show him it was
filled with a brown-red sludge which she slowly drooled into my waiting
mouth.  I came about six times that day.

        That wasn't the first time I was used at school.  Neither the
principal in her school or the one in mine ever paid Lisa.  But
everyone else did.  My first time being used as Lisa's whore I had to
be carried home afterward.  After that, she charged them extra if they
wouldn't give me us a ride back to the house and I couldn't walk.

        After school that day, instead of walking back home, I found
myself crossing the large field to the high school.  Once there, I
found my way to a gym that I'd never been in before, and there, three
seniors from the football team waited.  With my sister, of course.  At
the time, I had no idea that I was going to be Lisa's whore, because it
was only the second day of school and nothing had happened there yet.

        It was the gym where they practiced gymnastics, so there were
plenty of things to tie me to.  And with, since my sister had
thoughtfully brought a bag for her clients which contained a lot of
rope and whips nd stuff.  I never did find out where she got all the
stuff she used to torture me with.

        The boys were all on the football team and all really big.
Especially compared to my small body.  They certainly had a lot of
stamina though, and each one came at least three times.  I couldn't
count the number of times I came.

        "Okay, that's thirty a piece," said Lisa.

        They smiled as they handed her the money.  As much as I wanted
to flee in fear, all I could do was stand there with a welcoming smile
on my face.

        "What're we allowed to do?" asked one of them.

        "Anything short of killing her," replied my smiling sister.
"She's loves it rough and blood's a turn on for her, so feel free."
She paused for a second, then said, "Don't kill her though.  That might
be awkward."

        I didn't get to remove my clothes.  They did.  And they weren't
very gentle about it either.  Within ten minutes, I had one in each
hole and was able to watch my sister masturbate out of the corner of my
eye.

        They smacked me around a lot, and my holes, despite repeated
stretching by Lisa, were very small.  They ripped my back hole and I
was pretty sure that they ripped my cunny too.  My nipples they all but
pulled off, and they were bruised and bleeding, when they finished.  Of
course, a lot of me was bruised and bleeding when they finished, since
after they got tired of fucking me, they found other ways to use up
their time.

        When one of them needed to go pee, Lisa told him not to bother.
 I'd be happy to drink their piss --  something that still revolted me
-- and of course, my smile and the fact that I eagerly opened my mouth
made them sure that I was a totally perverted slut who should drink
piss.  They all used me for that.

        Eventually, I ended up hanging upside down from one bar of the
uneven bars while they took turns smacking and punching me.  They also
used their belts and one broke a rib I think.  I heard something crack
when he hit me and it hurt real bad to breathe after that.  Of course,
since I was cumming my head off, I was breathing pretty hard.  They
tore my cunny by forcing the wide end of a bat into it and fucking me
with it.  Each time the bat went in, it slammed into something inside
me that really hurt bad.

        Eventually, I came so many times I passed out.  I don't
remember getting home, but the next morning, as usual, there wasn't a
mark on me.  I still felt like my insides had been damaged though and
that kept me in a constant state of arousal.

        My sister rented me to anyone for almost any price.  She never
spent the money on me, just bought clothes, CDs and other stuff for
herself.

        I had lost hope when I was called to the office in the high
school to see their principal.  There was just a glimmer of it, when I
walked in, but it didn't last.

        "Strip," said the woman, without even looking up.

        I was no stranger to menstrual sex, but really, she was a mess.
 Lisa made be suck her out all the time when she had her period, but
this woman was in the middle of a very heavy flow.  Her dark, thick
hair was matted with blood and, I think, some cum.  I cleaned it all
with my tongue, my shame incredibly great because all the while I was
cuming, I knew it was because I was enjoying drinking her monthly
discharge.

        She was cruel, though not as brutal as the other principal.  He
just beat me.  She did other stuff, like sliding thick needles behind
and through my nipples.  She slid them through the soft skin of my
belly, pierced my tongue with them and slid them through my little
pleasure button.  I came so hard that I thought I might pass out.  I
didn't though --  I rarely escaped that way.

        She really enjoyed pushing needles into my feet and under my
nails.  It was excruciatingly painful, but my screams, quiet as they
were, were of ecstasy and she knew it.  She never even used my name or
addressed me other than to tell me to move to a new position.

        She also used my mouth for a toilet, in every way possible.
She peed in it, spit into it, made me actually eat a tampon, then
slowly packed it with her waste, making me chew the yellowish muck
thoroughly before swallowing.

        I was the school slut, although to be honest, I was Lisa's sex
slave.   I grew to really enjoy being fucked.  At least I got paid in
pleasure.  Sort of.  I mean, being abused really hurt, and the
disgusting things that were done to me were really sick.  But I came
like gang busters.  I was also astonished at the number of people who
were more than happy to use my skinny, eight-year-old body.  I mean,
how sick can people be?

        Time went on with me barely making it through school, but never
being left behind, all though I should have been.  I got a D in every
class.  It wasn't that I was stupid or anything.   But I was pulled out
of classes every day to earn my sister money.

        As time went on, Lisa got more creative in coming up with ways
to torture me.  And I got more and more addicted to it, even though I
knew that most of the time, the reactions weren't really mine.  Well,
for the first half year or so.

        Some days were worse than others, but each day I could be sure
of two things: Lisa would hurt me, or cause me to be hurt by someone
(usually both) and I would cum.  What was almost worse was the fact
that somewhere along the way, I lost the ability to figure out if I was
cumming because Lisa was making me, or if I really liked what was
happening.  Eventually, the pain was all I needed to have an orgasm, no
one even needed to touch my cunny.  The more intense the pain, the
harder I would cum.  Finally, I was unable to cum without pain.

        Still, despite all the things that she did to me, there was one
thing that she did that stood out.  It was just after I turned eleven.
My birthday had been all but forgotten from the day that Lisa had taken
control of me.  No presents, and my mother only rarely bought me
anything that I didn't really, really need.  My clothes were always
falling apart, but no one cared --  especially since the thin cloth
displayed my developing body quite nicely.

        	My period hit on my eleventh birthday.  It was my only
present.  I'd know I was getting toward puberty since, in the last few
months, I'd started growing underarm hair.  Cunny hair too, but Lisa
usually found some painful way to remove it.  Usually with hot wax or a
dull razor (no shaving cream, of course) followed by a strapping or
caining on my sex that would leave me bleeding.  And cumming my brains
out.  For some reason, I never grew any leg hair.  Ever.

        	Because the other kids humiliated me and teased me about it,
she let the hair, thin as it was, under my arms grow.  She also didn't
let me use deodorant and, to be frank, you could tell.  The kids teased
me about that too.  Especially the ones that paid to fuck and abuse me.
 They commented about what a whore I smelled like.  Didn't stop them
from using me though.

        	Apparently Lisa loved how I smelled.  She'd keep me from
showering for days at a time, then masturbate while sniffing and
licking my armpits.  I would have complained, but she seemed to know
that I liked the smell too, so despite the embarrassment, I never got
the words out.

     	For my birthday Lisa did something special.  My periods, from the
very first one, were always painful.  Cramps would slam into my belly
hard enough to make me come.  I also bled like a stuck pig, which, as
time progressed, Lisa took advantage of.  She loved to drink my flow.
She also loved to suck it out of me and spit it into my mouth.  But
that was later on and it didn't last, as you'll see.

     	Anyway, I wasn't allowed to eat for two days before my birthday.
Even though anything that was done to me during the previous day healed
overnight, not eating was not eating.  I was very, very hungry when
Lisa came for me.

     	My bedroom might just as well have been called the dungeon.
She'd outfitted it with all kinds of things to tie me to.  Since I
didn't have any friends, I guess it didn't matter -- no one was ever in
my room but me, Lisa and the people who she decided to let torture me.

        	Anyway, it was early on a Saturday morning when she came in.
I was laying in a pool of sweat on my bed because she'd left the
heaters on in the room.  I hadn't showered in longer than I hadn't
eaten and, quite frankly, I stunk.  Lisa didn't care, of course, and
truthfully, neither did I.  I liked the smell of my sweat and often
found myself wishing that Lisa would shower less often so that when I
licked her body clean I could enjoy it more.

        	It took her very little time to position me how she wanted me,
which was tied in an X between rings set into the wood floor.  It was
tight but not too bad.  She fit a ring gag into my mouth, forcing it
open.  I don't know why, since I was sure that it would stay open as
long as she wanted it to.  She pulled a floor mirror out and hung it
over me.  That always made me nervous, but it was up there pretty well,
and I had a great view of my stretched out body.  It was arousing.
Then she opened a bucket that she'd brought in with her.  As soon as
she opened it, I knew what was in it.  The smell gave it a way.

        	Soon, she was using a scoop to feed the contents of the bucket
into my mouth.  I swallowed as best as I could, and my stomach began to
fill with shit.  Just to make sure I didn't get too thirsty, she pissed
in my mouth.  It wasn't long before I felt like I'd burst if I ate any
more, but she managed to fill me until my concave little belly was
pooching out.  Then she started at the other end.

        	She pushed a wide tube up my butt and smiled at me.

        	"You're gonna love this," she said.  "It's a mixture of Vix
vaporub, Bengay, pure ginger extract and fresh ground jalape�os pepper
seeds."

        	She backed my bowels with it.  I was screaming my head off
long before she finished.

        	You'd think that I'd have been overwhelmed with pain at that
point.  That it would all just meld together into one big misery.
Nope.  I felt every agony that she inflicted on my body almost as a
separate sensation.  The pain of a stomach overfilled with shit.  My
menstrual cramps.  And most definitely, the three quarts (she told me
how much it was) of that evil mixture in my bowels.  My skin was
stretched so tight I thought it was going to burst.  I couldn't cum
either.  But it was going to get much, much worse.

        	Next my loving sister decided to stretch me out a little.
She'd put in these little crank things, one at each ring in the floor
and, after putting a 4x4 piece of wood under the small of my back,
cranked them down, tightening the ropes until I screamed.

        	Now I could barely breathe.  The pain in my back and in my
joints was amazing.  My back hole refused to open up and release the
burning mixture that had filled it, and even though I felt as if I
could puke a river of shit, I was denied that as well.  The wood cut
into my back, adding to my woes.  But my pussy was swollen with lust
and my clitty was thick and fully exposed from its hood.  Lisa licked
and bit at it for a while, until the agony of denied release grew to be
almost unbearable.  Of course, I had no choice but to bare what she
did.

        	Stepping away, she picked up a thick sweat sock.  I though,
since it was dirty, she was going to stick it in my mouth.  I wish I
hadn't been wrong.  Lisa had filled it with something, sand, I think,
and she proceeded to beat my belly and lower abdomen with it.  I
thought for sure I would pass out, but it seemed that she quickly tired
of that game and stopped.

        	She left the room for a while and I lay there in complete
agony.  Not only was this worse than almost anything else I'd endured,
but I don't think I'd ever needed an orgasm so badly.  Finally, after I
don't know how long, Lisa returned.  She had a bowl in her hands and
some sort of tube in the other.

        	She set the bowl next to my head, and I have to tell you, even
over my own smell, and the smell of the shit I was burping up, it
smelled horrible.  I wondered if she was going to make me drink it.
Again, now I wish she had.

        	She took out a the dull razor that she usually shaved my pussy
with and proceeded to shave my mons.  It was painful, and I know I was
bleeding in a few places when she finished.  Then she shaved my
armpits.  That stung like hell, I can tell you.  All the salty sweat
that had coated them for the last few days made every stroke of the
razor burn like hell.  Of course, I was only starting to learn about
burning.

        	"This is going to be the most painful thing you've ever
experienced," she said.  "You'll be dying to cum the whole time, but I
doubt I'll let you.  Well... maybe I'll let you, but if I do, I promise
you, you'll never have another orgasm again unless you're in pain.  I
know you think you're already there, but you're not.  I'll let it be
your decision.  If you beg me enough, I'll let you cum."

        	She gestured toward the bowl and said, "In this is a special
mixture I made just for you.  I started it a few days ago by getting
little sister's piss, mom's and mine and slowly boiling it down to
almost a jell.  That means it's very concentrated uric acid.  Then, I
added in a little more salt, oil from habanero peppers and ginger
extract.  Let me show you what it feels like on unbroken skin."

        	She dipped the end of the brush in the stuff and dabbed it on
one cheek.  It seconds it started burning like hell.  If she put that
on my already bleeding mons, or under my arms, I was sure I'd go crazy.

        	Then she picked up the tube, opened it and slid something into
her hand.  It was a knife.

        	"This," she said, "is a very special knife.  It's sharp, but
the edge has very small barbs that tear the skin when its used.
Because of that, the cut it makes is quite painful and a lot wider than
just a narrow blade would make."

        	I started to get very afraid.  Was she going to kill me?  I
mean, after all these years, I had to wonder if anyone would even
notice.  I could just see her telling mom:

        	"Hi, mom," she'd say.

        	"Hi, honey."

        	"I killed Kimmi today.  Tortured her, then slit her throat."

        	"Oh dear," my mother would say, "and I was planning dinner for
four.  Well, I guess I'll have the left overs tomorrow for lunch."

        	After all that had been done to me, it just didn't seem so far
fetched.  Then Lisa started.

        	It was every bit as excruciating as she'd promised.  She
started with my swollen belly, humming under her breath as she cut the
soft skin around my bellybutton.  She was working in some design, and
it didn't take long before the blood started to ooze from the cuts.
She didn't work long though, perhaps just ten minutes.  The pattern
wasn't all that big, not yet anyway, and I could see it clearly in the
mirror.  Watched as the blood pooled in my belly button as she sliced
into it.  It hurt like hell.

        	After waiting for a few minutes, she took out the brush and
started applying her special mixture to the cuts, following the pattern
exactly.  I started to scream, and she looked in my eyes and smiled.
Then she left.

        	I don't know how long she was gone, the fire in my belly
adding to, multiplying, all the other torture she'd inflicted on me.
And my clitty, throbbing and begging for a relief that I knew might not
come.

        	She did my torso, avoiding my breasts, nipples, sex and
underarms.  That was painful enough, but when she finally started on
those, I was almost hysterical.

        	The feeling was indescribable when she started on my breasts.
They'd started to get bigger, but in the position I was currently in,
they were real flat.  She cut them, must have taken a half hour, then
painted them with that stuff.  She left again, and I was in agony.
Each beat of my heart spread the fire over my skin.  I could feel the
blood slowly dripping off me and my clit was pulsing and begging for
release.

        	Next she did my underarms.  That was even more painful than
when she'd cut my beasts.  I could no longer cry --  it seemed as if my
tears were dried up, and my throat was just too raw to scream anymore.
It was when she started in on my nipples that I finally broke.  I
started begging her for an orgasm.  I no longer wanted to stop the
pain, I didn't even want her stop cutting me.  Not even when she sliced
an X across each nipple, almost cutting the swollen nubs in quarters.
Lisa ignored me.

        	Eventually, she started on my cunny.  She cut each of my cunt
lips, slicing first _between_ the lips.  Not deeply -- none of the cuts
anywhere on my body were deep.  She even cut a channel from just inside
my tunnel to my exposed back hole.  When she painted those cuts, I felt
for sure I would go insane.  Nothing I said could induce Lisa to give
me my orgasm though.

        	Lisa's finale was the only thing left untouched: my clit.  She
showed me a much smaller knife than the one she'd been using.  It was
almost like an Xacto knife.  She slowly used it on my hood, splitting
it so she could get to the protected base of my clitty.  Then, she
continued to cut my swollen organ and I went out of my mind.  When she
took up the paintbrush she looked at me.

        	"Remember what I said: if you get an orgasm now, you'll never,
ever be able to cum without pain again," she said.

        	"I don't care, I don't care, please Lisa, I need it.  Even if
you kill me, I don't care, please let me cum !"

        	My voice was soft and horse and I wondered if she'd even heard
me.  She did.  As she began to paint my clit, she looked at me with the
most evil expression I'd ever seen on her face.

        	"Cum."

        	I did.  I came so much that I think I finally lost
consciousness.  When I awoke, I was still cumming, my body covered with
symbols and blood, burning like I was on a funeral pyre.  Maybe I was.
This was the death of any pleasure I'd ever get from a gentle touch.

        	I don't remember anything but the most intense combination of
pleasure and pain I'd ever felt.  And it went on and on, maybe for
hours.

        	I woke the next morning in bed.  My stomach was still pretty
full of shit and I was covered with dried blood, afraid to move lest my
skin split and reopen all the cuts she'd made.  Finally though, I
dragged myself out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower.  The
water turned red, and I could see the faint tracings of scars all over
my body.  But everything was healed.  After I washed I was standing in
front of the mirror drying, and noticed that I couldn't see a single
scar in my reflection.  I could see them with my eyes, but not through
the mirror.  I wondered what everyone else would see.  What my
reflection showed, I supposed.

        	Later that week, Lisa came into my room.  She gently lay me
down on my bed, showered me with kisses and spoke to me like a caring
lover.  Even though my cunny was wet almost all the time, after a half
hour of her ministrations, I was dry as a bone, and, to be truthful,
somewhat bored.

        	Finally, she sat on my stomach and slapped my face so hard I
saw starts.  Before I could recover, she'd grabbed a nipple in each
hand, pinching them with her fingernails hard enough to draw blood.  In
seconds, I was as wet as a swamp, and panting in desire.

        	She spit in my face, laughed and walked out.  Lisa had spoken
the truth: I would never respond sexually to anything but pain again.

        ++++++

        	I got pregnant, of course.  I mean, what did you expect?  I
was fucked daily.  I remember when it happened though, oddly enough.
Our school had a football game and there was a party for all the
players.  I was the party favor.  Well, Lisa and I both, but I was the
one the players, most of them outweighing me by over a hundred pounds,
fucked the shit out of.  Of course, the rougher they were, the harder I
came.  When they finished with me, I couldn't walk.  My mouth was
bleeding, my throat raw and both my cunny and asshole were leaking
blood.  But I knew that I was pregnant.  It was three months to the
day, after my birthday.

        	I carried the baby to term, and gave birth in our house.  In
my room.  And my sister tortured me the entire time.  She beat my tits,
now swollen with milk, whipped the soles of my feet and as I was
delivering, drove skewers through my tits and pierced my clit.  In
fact, just before the baby was coming down my tunnel, she quickly sewed
my pussy lips together.  Needless to say, the child ripped the stitches
out.  My baby girl was born as I had a huge orgasm.  And she was born
on my birthday.

    	Lisa disappeared that day, and I never saw her again.

    	My life returned to normal, sort of.  I mean, people stopped using
me for a sex toy, at least the ones that I didn't offer myself to.  My
mother discovered me sliding needles into my nipples while I
masturbated and of course she freaked out.  I sat there, milk and blood
running down my breast wondering were the hell she'd been the last four
years.  But of course I knew.  She'd been under Lisa's influence.  Like
everyone else had been.  Mom talked about Lisa like she'd be back any
day.  That never happened though, and Mom never seemed to notice.

      	Anyway, she forced me into therapy.  It never worked and I
managed to either freak out or force each therapist to give up in a
matter of weeks.  When I turned thirteen, I finally found one that I
could stay with.  Actually, he and his wife worked as a team.  In fact,
I loved going to see them and I'm sure you can guess why: they were
expert torturers and the though of having a thirteen year old sex toy
pleased them to no end.

      	They were found out though, after six months.  Once Lisa left, I
no longer healed as fast as I used to.  I still healed really fast, but
not fast enough.  Mother saw the cuts and bruises on my tits, inner
thighs and cunt.  She managed to have the husband and wife arrested.  I
never forgave her for that.

      	The year passed, and I approached my fourteenth birthday.  I
still fucked with abandon, somehow I knew I'd never get pregnant again.
 I was right.  I went to sleep on the eve of my fourteenth birthday,
having earlier burnt my nipples and clit with a candle till they
blistered and having a mind blowing orgasm in the process, content and
happy.  Just before I fell asleep, I wondered where Lisa was.

      	I woke up the morning of my ... my sister's fourteenth birthday
feeling very strange.  There was a strong feeling of deja-vu:  I was
sure I'd felt this way before ... almost as if my body wasn't mine.
      
      End

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