A VISIT TO PP3

BY NAP

[ part 2 ]

Note: This story is a fantasy for adults only. The author utterly condemns any form of actual abuse – physical, sexual, psychological and emotional – to any person of any age.

 

I awoke early next morning refreshed from my labours of the evening before. I had left no instructions for Julie, who slept in a small annexe alongside the villa, and who I knew would not arrive for duty until summoned. I left that for the moment and switched on the screen and selected the cameras in the cellar. I focussed on the two girls, nine-year-old Chantou and eleven-year-old Anastasia. Both were still asleep on their lightly padded shelves. The cellar was kept tolerably warm and the naked children were allowed no coverings. The Cambodian was curled up on her right side and was rather endearingly sucking her thumb. Anastasia, on the other hand, lay on her back, one slim arm thrown back over her head. Her long right leg was bent and her left was spread wide, giving her a look of sexual abandon that was all the more erotic for being completely unconscious. I stared at her very obvious naked quim and felt myself harden. It was too early for this sort of thing as I had plans and wanted to save myself for later in the day. I swivelled the cameras to look around the girls’ cells. Both had used their pots, I noticed.

I switched away from the cellar camera and chose to view those in the annexe. I saw Julie neatly dressed in her uniform of short blue skirt, white blouse and knee-high socks, and obviously awaiting my summons. I left her and searched the memory for the automatic recording in Julie’s bedroom of the night before. As I had recognised at the time, my sexual shenanigans with the two girls had all but overwhelmed her. As soon as she had reached the false privacy of her bedroom she had hoisted her skirt, pulled off her panties and masturbated furiously. She had cum almost at once, such had been the intensity of her frustration. After that she had hurriedly taken off the rest of her clothes and had settled down to along session of self gratification.

At sixteen, Julie was almost too old for me (I am thirty-eight!), but I enjoyed seeing her teenage body writhe from self-induced delight. Her breasts were not too large and very firm, her belly was flat and her hips just wide enough to be shapely while retaining something of the juvenile. She had pubic hair, of course, but no-one’s perfect! Anyway, I quite enjoyed watching the teen work away at herself , but of even more interest to me was that she had had such a strong sexual response to my own abuse of the girls. Finally, though, I became a bit bored so I switched back to real time and pressed the signal to call upon her to attend to her to her duties. I watched on the screen as she hurriedly obeyed my summons and a few moments later she appeared in person. She blushed when she saw her own room on the screen and guessed that her masturbatory marathon of the night before had been recorded for my pleasure. I told her to make me a pot of tea and she said “Yes sir” and obeyed.

By the time Julie returned with my tea I had the girls’ cells back on a split screen. “Go and wake the girls up with a good spanking,” I instructed, “and then see to them before returning here.”

“Yes sir,” Julie acknowledged with a glint in her eyes. I watched the screen as she appeared down in the basement She unlocked Anastasia’s door, entered, shut the door and sat on the sleeping shelf. She pulled the sleeping girl over her knees and before the dozy child knew what was happening, Julie was spanking her tiny bottom very hard. I had the volume switched on and so I could listen to Anastasia’s increasingly strident screams of pain and pleas for mercy in both English and Russian. However, the cells are completely soundproof, so it was amusingly odd to watch and hear this while at the same time being able to see little Chantou curled up sublimely asleep in the next cell.

Julie was knowledgeable enough to realise that this spanking was only a preliminary for the day’s activities and so she kept it sharp but short.. She then left Anastasia crying loudly and went through to Chantou. The little Asian girl’s plump bottom may still have been tender from the hairbrushing I had given her the evening before – she certainly kicked and screamed as if she meant it when Julie turned her over her knee. Soon she too was left howling .

Julie opened both cell doors. “Right you two, stop your stupid noise. First you need to empty your piss-pots.” Doing their best to control their sobbing tears, the girls carefully picked up the pots – they must have guessed the obvious rule that spilling urine on the floor going to lead to severe punishment. The carried them to the tiled ablution area where there were a series of toilets and sinks. They emptied the pots and washed them carefully, before using the lavatories themselves. Later Julie would give them an enema, but viewing that was not among my fetishes. The girls next went into the shower – cold, of course. They dried themselves on coarse towels, but Julie took time and trouble drying and brushing their hair. They cleaned their teeth, which were in excellent condition and Julie instructed them where to find plain cereal, milk and orange juice for their breakfasts. As the two little girls sat naked on their sore bottoms on the plain wooden forms ant the deal table the scene took on a homely look.

Their breakfast over, the little girls washed and dried their dishes, and then Julie took them through to an open space and instructed them in a series of vigorous exercises. The girls performed these well and I guessed that they were routine at PP3. Still, it was amusing to see their little bodies jumping, bending and stretching actively under Julie’s critical supervision. But by now I had drunk two cups of tea and was feeling in need of my own breakfast, so I signalled Julie to attend me. When she arrived, leaving the girls still exercising energetically. I told Julie to make me a full English breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages, and so on, with porridge with cream and sugar before that, and plenty of toast and marmalade to follow. All this was full of fat and calories, of course, but I needed to eat well if was to maintain myself at a level of vigour to take full advantage of my visit.

After breakfast I allowed Julie to fetch the girls up and they were set to work cutting the lawn with nail scissors, a tedious and unnecessary task, but one that kept the girls occupied and quiet while the sun and air got to their bodies; I was very concerned for their health. While they were thus engaged, I sat on the terrace enjoying the morning and every so often casting an eyes on their upturned bottoms. A little later I told Julie to send Anastasia off on a run to fetch my newspaper, with a tight time limit set for the completion of the task. Much to Julie’s disappointment, Anastasia returned flushed, sweaty and gasping for breath just within the deadline. With her long legs she was clearly a good runner. While Anastasia was racing for my newspaper, Chantou was set to work cleaning the windows with warning that the merest smear would not be tolerated. Chantou polished the glass as if she thought a genie might appear. No such luck, but she did achieve the miracle of Julie’s reluctant approval

So the morning went on, with Anastasia and Chantou busy about various tiresome chores around the house and garden that I shall not describe in detail for fear of boring the pants off you (the girls did not have any pants, of course, so they could be as bored as I liked!).

After lunch, they were taken downstairs and sat at desks in the schoolroom. Each was given educational exercises individually set up and downloaded from the Administrative Centre’s computer. These would be returned to be marked and the girls punished for any failures. However, that was in the future, for now it was enough that they were secure and busy while Julie and I went on another expedition in the electric cart.

As we buzzed along we saw quite a few of the more than three hundred, seven to eleven-year-old girls within the Park. Most of these were engaged in some kind of activity as it was a general rule that the girls should be kept busy. But there were exceptions, such as the little girl we saw tied to a post and unable to do anything very much. I cannot give you much of a description of her as her head was entirely covered by a thick maroon hood that hid her features and must have effectively blindfolded her, but to judge from her small, immature body she was one of the youngest girls. She stood in a small pool of what must have been her own urine as dried streaks could be seen on her small thighs. Exactly why she was there – as a punishment or on someone’s whim – I cannot guess. After pausing for a look, we buzzed on.

Some of the girls were in largish groups, like the one of thirty odd from which I had selected Anastasia and Chantou the day before. These were generally supervised by a monitor similar to Julie. The smaller groups – from two or three individuals to a dozen or more – were usually left to themselves, although clearly still under strict discipline. We came upon one such group of four girls digging a large oblong hole. As we halted they stopped and stood to attention facing us. Their eyes were wary; I suppose Authorised Visitors usually meant trouble for someone. All four looked to be of a similar age – about ten. I asked them what they were doing and one, a black girl who presumably had the best English, answered that they were digging a hole. I smiled. This answer by another child in a different place, in other circumstances might have been impertinent. But not here.

“I mean, what is it for?” I asked.

“I do not know, sir,” she replied with a scared, wide-eyed look. I think she believed an unsatisfactory answer would earn her a thrashing. She had an accent I could not place – not British or American, anyway She was certainly attractive. She had tiny breasts, a definitely bulging slit and a very prominent bum – even more so than Chantou’s. I considered taking her.

“Scan her,” I ordered Julie.

Julie pointed the handheld scanner at the girl’s eyes and took a reading of her retina. “She’s from Nigeria, sir. A Yoruba girl named Bejide. (She pronounced it Beh-JEE-deh). She is ten-years-old. She speaks very good English and is an excellent athlete.”

Hm, plenty of qualities there, but I decided to leave her. “Put her on the reserve list,” I told Julie. “We’ll take her another time.”

Julie made the necessary entry and Bejide looked on with a mixture of relief and foreboding, knowing that her confinement was not renounced, but only delayed.

We buzzed on and I looked out at the dozens of girls arrayed along the way. One of the great things about the park was the wide variety of girls there. Although they were all attractive in their own way, they did not necessarily conform to some stereotype of childhood beauty. The result was the illusion that these girls could have been selected at random from some unusually cosmopolitan High Street. However many were remarkably lovely in the most conventional sense and we now came upon one of these.

She was one of the older girls with a miniature figure that, although small, looked in proportion. She had cute little breasts that had she been wearing clothes would have demanded a bra. Her waist went in and there was only the vestige of childish rotundity at her tummy. Below this her hips had recently broadened to give her a properly feminine shape. Her thighs were round, full and firm, though below her lovely knees her calves were slim and shapely. But it was the intimate area between her legs that drew my eyes like a magnet. Her quim was very conspicuous as it bulged plumply and the vertical slit was very well defined. Better still, and to my own enchantment, there was no pubic hair to hide its obvious charms, though I thought that it would not be long before it was thatched.

But now to the head of this model of pre-pubertal perfection. Her hair, which fell in deep, soft waves to her lovely shoulders, was of that rose-gold colour I believe our American cousins call strawberry blonde Her face was heart shaped with huge grey/green blue eyes, a fine nose, rosebud mouth, dimpled cheeks and small, delicately cleft chin. I may add that her whole body was tanned a light golden shade.

“Scan that one,” I ordered Julie.

Of the twenty or so girls currently on display, Julie did not have to check with me which one I wanted.. She jumped out of the cart and got close enough to avoid any mistakes. “She’s called Ellerie,” Julie said excitedly – I think she was a keen on the child as I! “She’s from the USA – well, California, to be precise. She is eleven-years-old. She’s a very good athlete and swimmer and an excellent dancer.”

“OK,” I said unnecessarily, “let’s put her in a cage.”

I stepped from the cart myself to lend her a hand. Julie grasped Ellerie firmly by the upper arm. Ellerie’s wide eyes went even rounder with horror at being picked from the bunch, but as Julie’s hand firmly urged her forwards, she stepped nervously towards the cart. I unlocked the long side of the lower left rear cage. Ellerie looked at the small, uncomfortable space in shocked disbelief. I walked round behind her and had my first look at her bum. It was not a disappointment. I put my right hand on her superb buttocks to impel her forward. She jumped as though my fingers were electrified. This pleased me. I slapped her bottom quite hard and, startled, she stepped up to the cart. Julie took her shoulders while I supported her legs. We lifted her up alongside the cage and I pushed her bent legs forward so that she folded up into a more compact shape. She pushed out her arms in a panic at the looming cage.

“Fold your arms against your chest,” I ordered, “and keep your head bowed.”

Frightened and confused, the child automatically obeyed and we lifted her into the cage. She squealed as the raised wire grill bit into her knees and put out her hands to support herself. And squealed again when they hurt too. She tried to raise her head and bumped it on top of the cage that was also the base of the one above.

“Mind your fingers and toes,” I warned, and slammed the door shut and locked it. I stepped back to examine my captive. Although not as tall as Anastasia, she still fitted the cage very tightly. She was already trying to vary her position, but would soon learn that she could not turn around or over. I walked behind her and looked at her bent bum – Beautiful!

I turned around and the remaining girls shrank away slightly, each willing herself to be invisible. There were several girls there I am sure I should have enjoyed, but I decided not to take anyone else from this group. We got back into the cart and Julie drove on.

“Wow!” Julie said, unable to contain herself . “She really is a beauty.”

The cart bounced along the track and I heard a wail from the cages behind us. For once I decided to let Julie chatter on. “She’s never been in a cage before,” asserted Julie, “which means she is almost certainly a complete naïf.”

“Mmm,” I agreed neutrally, although exactly the same interesting thought had occurred to me.

“Gosh! I can hardly wait to see—” Julie began excitedly and then faltered to a stop as she realised there was no guarantee that she would see as her participation was entirely dependent on my whim. I said nothing. There was no reason for Julie to know anything I had in mind. I liked to see her wriggle in suspense.

We continued , passing more groups of children who were attractive enough, but again I made no selections. I was not sure what I wanted. I already had Chantou and Anastasia, who were two very different types, and now I had the excellent Ellerie, but to go with this paragon, should my fourth girl be imperfect, I wondered. And if so what form should the imperfection take? Almost all little girls were desirable to me, so how could any be faulty? However, I did not dwell too long on this philosophical pinprick when I had a multitude of naked little girls to scrutinize.

Then the sunshine glinted on something and I saw that I had found what I wanted. The girl was wearing spectacles. And she was a little beauty. I do not mean she was lovely despite the glasses, but including them and because of them. They suited her face so well that they seemed part of her; an impression confirmed when Julie scanned her retinas and informed me:

“Her name is Ophelie. She is French, but speaks fluent English. She’s ten years old and has an IQ of 164. So she’s very intelligent,” Julie added with a smirk, presumably believing this was not a factor of great interest to me.

She was wrong, but I suppose her error was understandable for Ophelie was very pretty. She had a rather slight build, but was in no way skinny like Anastasia. Her hair was so dark as to be almost black and hung down to the middle of her back in two long plaits. Her eyes were very dark too, and large, perhaps magnified by the spectacles. She had a serious little face, but she looked nothing like as scared as Ellerie had been. She had two tiny pointy little breasts with surprisingly prominent nipples. Her tummy was rounded, her small quim was naturally hairless and her bum small and round. She was, in fact, a fairly typical 10-year-old apart from her high intelligence. She was just right.

“Good, I’ll have her,” I confirmed to Julie.

Ophelie moved forward unresistingly towards the cages at the back of the cart. Ellerie was still crying in her cage and began pleading to be let out. I ignored her. I considered where to put Ophelie. When we had collected Chantou and Anastasia, I had used the two back lower cages, so the girls had been side by side. Now, with Ellerie in the lower-left-rear cage, facing forward, I decided to put Ophelie in the lower-left-front cage, facing the same way, so that bleating Ellerie could look at Ophelie’s cut little bum on the journey back to the villa to take her mind off her own predicament. Some hope!

I opened the cage door and as Ophelie was light and was being co-operative – perhaps a sign of her high intelligence – I let Julie lift her in herself. I knew my assistant enjoyed close contact with the small nudes. The little French girl grimaced as the wire pressed against her hands and knees, but again she was bright enough to realise that the more she wriggled , the more painful it would be.

Julie drove us back to the villa where we unloaded my two new victims from their cages. The lovely Ellerie still sobbed, as we lifted her out. She had been cramped for quite some time and she collapsed onto the ground. Julie glanced with a raised eyebrow at me and I gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval. We were beginning to work well together. Julie grabbed her arm, pulled her over and spanked her exquisite bum hard. Ellerie screeched like a banshee – goodness knows what she would do once we really started on her! Anyway, Julie reddened the bottom of the screaming child, but as always refrained from doing too much that might impinge on any later activities.

Little Ophelie, still enclosed in her cage, turned her pretty head to watch Ellerie’s spanking – though whether from boredom, pleasure or intellectual curiosity I cannot tell. Once Julie had finished spanking Ellerie and that child was standing – or rather, hopping – on the ground beside the cart, I unlocked Ophelie’s cage and Julie lifted her out. Ophelie stood stiffly, but she made sure she did stand, although, to be fair, she had not been caged as long as Ellerie. Nonetheless I flicked a nod at Julie who was delighted to bend the little French girl over and give her a good spanking too. I smiled; Ophelie’s behaviour had been entirely logical, but she was to learn that reason did not prevail here, only my own fads and fancies!.

We took Ellerie and Ophelie into the cellar down the steps and through the outside door. Anastasia and Chantou did not look up from their desks as they were scribbling hard, desperately trying to complete their academic exercises within the time allowed. I left Julie then to feed, clean and otherwise prepare all four girls for the evening’s activities and took myself off upstairs to listen to some Mozart.