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Subject: Re: A Young Girl�s Play n thing (gggggggFF/F, gdom, ped, nc, bd, sad, rim, ws, scat (where is part two)
Date: Thu, 13 Jan 2005 22:37:07 -0500
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===================

Anyone have part two

On 12 Jan 2005 22:02:34 GMT, "Nikki@P.U." <@> wrote:

>
> A Young Girl’s Play n thing (gggggggFF/F, gdom, ped, nc, bd, sad, rim, ws,
>scat
>
>
>
>by Sarah J.
>
> 
>
>  
>
>Warning: The narrative deals with underage persons;
>
>if you find this offensive, then please don’t read it.
>
> 
>
> 
>
>The following story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to any
>real person living or dead is absolutely coincidental.  The narrative deals
>with underage persons and the author in no way condones or promotes sex with
>minors, nor any of the other acts depicted in this work – but… Sarah thinks
>any adult who enjoys reading about such things should be free to do so.
>
> 
>
> 
>
>Summary: A piano teacher is abducted by her young, pre-teen female students,
>then kept as a sex-toy and subjected to continued abuse, torture, humiliation
>and degradation by the girls and their friends.
>
> 
>
> 
>
> 
>Part One: The Licking-Pony Game
>
> 
>
>Jenny sat with her feet, in their pretty lace-topped white ankle-socks, between
>the grown woman’s boobies. She had taken off her panties and sat her little
>eight-year-old ass right down on the sobbing woman’s face. Now she was busy
>wriggling her butt so her helpless slave’s nose and mouth went deeper into
>her butt-crack. Jenny wanted her actual butt-hole kissed and that’s all there
>was too it. When the girls wanted something from their grown-up toy, they
>always got it.
>
> 
>
>          ‘Kiss my butt-hole toy,’ Jenny giggled, ‘an that is sooo gross
>but I’m gonna make you do much worse stuff after’.
>
>          Then the eight-year-old went back to lashing her captive’s breasts
>with her riding-crop. Emily Devallier, at thirty-four, was enduring a sudden
>and unexpected career change. From respected piano teacher, to a real-live
>toy, used solely for amusement by a gang of spoilt prepubescent girls. She
>was naked, and bound so skillfully that movement, let alone escape, was impossible.
>She could barely breathe now, then she felt her lips touch the horrid girl’s
>anus – and she kissed it. Then the next instruction came.
>
> 
>
>Jenny squealed with delight as she felt her plaything’s tongue wriggle and
>squirm its way deep into her ass. Even though Jenny was only eight, she had
>masturbated about making Miss Devallier do this to her since her first lesson.
>She even talked to some of her friends about it. Stephanie, who was ten,
>said it was sick and disgusting, but only: IF YOU WERE THE ONE THAT HAD TO
>DO THE LICKING!! And then they all laughed. But Jenny now owned the useless
>thirty-four-year-old bitch, and she was helpless and couldn’t say no - in
>fact, she couldn’t say no to anything Jenny wanted anymore. Which was just
>sooo cool. So the poor wretch squirmed under the little girl’s ass cheeks,
>desperately trying to jam her tongue deeper into her pre-teen owner’s butt-hole
>all the while trying to avoid the evil sting of the crop as it sliced at
>her breasts. The toy’s pitiful screams and begging moans were muffled by
>Jenny’s little ass as the sadistic young girl bounced happily on her new
>slave’s face.
>
> 
>
> 
>
>Jenny was a very naughty girl, and she knew it. But she had always gotten
>away with everything – so why should now be any different? Life’s very simple
>when you’re eight, mostly divided into what you can do and what you can’t
>do, what you’ll be allowed to do, and what you wont – and – what stuff you’ll
>get into trouble for. It seemed to Jenny that piano teachers were boring
>and useless, so that was okay, and Miss Devallier had no family or anything,
>so she was just being wasted really. Well Jenny had solved all that. Now
>Miss Devallier was being very useful, giving all the girls so much fun –
>much better than her stupid piano lessons. And, although Jenny couldn’t be
>sure, maybe mom didn’t mind. After all, when that man came asking about Miss
>Devallier mom had told him that she never arrived for the lesson. That was
>odd. Anyway, this was the best game Jenny ever thought up, and that’s all
>that mattered.
>
>Teasing was always fun, so every now and again Jenny would lift her little
>sweaty butt off Miss Devallier’s silly mouth just long enough to listen to
>her begging and crying. Jenny loved to hear her do that, she never answered
>though, she just giggled and sat back down again. Now her butt was all slippery
>and squelchy from Miss Devallier’s licking and from sweat – it was hot work
>riding the licking-pony (that was Lisa’s cool name for this game).
>
>Jenny reached for a Diet-Pepsi on the table by her bed. As she rolled sideways
>there was a slurping sound as the licking-pony’s face pulled out from her
>butt-cheeks – Jenny laughed, nearly choking on her Pepsi, and some even came
>out of her nose. And Miss Devallier gasping for air was funny too, but it
>didn’t last long as Jenny wriggled her hips and settled down to play licking-pony
>some more. It was a totally cool game and she would play it for hours.
>
> 
>
>Emily tried to concentrate. She was struggling to hold on to her sanity,
>she knew instinctively that she had to reduce her new world to manageable
>chunks if she was to survive. ‘The small picture,’ she repeated over and
>over in her mind. Emily focused on pushing her tongue out further, (ignoring
>the aching pain in her jaw). She also concentrated on twirling her tongue
>as it went deeper into… well… just deeper. Where her tongue was buried, and
>what was pressing down onto her face making her struggle for breath, well,
>that was the big picture – if she thought about that she would go mad. So
>she concentrated on the task at hand, and stopping that whip. It was all
>about stopping that whip.
>
>Three lessons was all she had given the children. They had seemed nice; attentive;
>polite even, just as you would expect of girls from wealthy families. The
>eight year-olds had asked her questions – was she married? Did she have any
>children? Any little girls like them? Emily patiently explained that she
>lived alone, and had no family, but that she wasn’t lonely or sad, because
>she loved her work. And no (in answer to Jennifer’s unrelenting questioning),
>she didn’t have many friends. She was just too busy, that was all.
>
>Everything had seemed normal. Twenty minutes into the third lesson the girls
>had said they were thirsty. They ran through the large house to the kitchen
>and came back with a glass of soda each, and one for Emily. It was hot so
>she readily accepted, sipping at it while she explained the importance of
>Middle-C, and then ran though the basic scales again.
>
>After a while the keys blurred and Emily felt a little light-headed. It was
>a hot day, but the house was well air-conditioned – perhaps it was something
>she ate? Emily remembered asking one of the girls to fetch Jennifer’s mother,
>but they seem to just stare at her, smiling. Then she just sort of slid gently
>sideways from the piano stool and lay on the floor. The girls helped her
>to her feet and said they were taking her to see Jennifer’s mom, so she went,
>leaning on the little girls and struggling to take each stair at a time.
>Why were they going upstairs? Why didn’t Jennifer’s mother come down? Perhaps
>she didn’t understand how sick Emily was. The last thing Emily remembered
>was being lowered onto a bed; then she passed out.
>
>Emily floated in and out of consciousness. She was dimly aware of being handled,
>someone was loosening her clothes – that was a good idea when someone faints…
>wasn’t it? There were sounds of giggling – young girl’s giggling – which
>was strange.
>
>Emily came round slowly, at first confused, and then frightened. She thought
>she was paralyzed, she couldn’t move her arms or legs, there was something
>in her mouth. Then she was fully awake and her conscious mind pulled all
>the pieces together that her sub-conscious had treated as a hazy dream. She
>was tied. Emily could feel the thin cord on her wrists, which were behind
>her back. She could also feel it around her ankles, and she was gagged; cloth
>of some sort. As she jerked her head forward she could see she was naked.
>Then panic set in and she began to thrash, tugging at the rope, but that
>just made it tighter. Then Emily saw the girls, looking down at her with
>smug, pleased smiles.
>
>‘Hi Miss Devallier,’ said a grinning Jennifer, ‘guess wot? You aren’t a boring
>piano teacher anymore, you are gonna be our new best toy’. With that they
>all laughed.
>
>The idea that this was a sick joke wore off after a few days. Emily was kept
>naked and tied in Jennifer’s closet, amid a jumble of shoes, clothes and
>toys. The girls used extra rope to bind her to the lower rail of the clothes-rack
>so she could barely move – and the gag (which they had told her with much
>amusement was dirty, white school sock) was very effective. The only person
>(apart from the girls) who ever came into Jennifer’s bedroom was the maid,
>she never went in the closet, and if she ever noticed the muffled sounds
>she ignored them. Still, Emily felt this couldn’t go on long, by now she
>had left any ideas of punishing the girls behind and would just settle for
>an end to this humiliating prank, but things took a turn for the worse, not
>better.
>
> 
>
>They started beating her. At first it was on impulse – Jennifer, Lisa and
>another girl Emily didn’t recognize had dragged her out of the closet and
>were staring down at her grinning, which had been the routine for several
>days. Then they dragged her to the base of Jennifer’s bed, tying one ankle
>to the bed. Jennifer hesitated, as if she was just making this up as she
>went along, then she quickly untied Emily’s ankles. Emily tried to make her
>move but her legs were numb from not moving, and besides, her right ankle
>was still tied to the bed. The girls moved quickly, pulling their captive’s
>left leg wide, then tying it to the other side of the bed. Emily felt different
>almost immediately, acutely aware that things had taken a decidedly different
>turn, with her legs spread and her naked vagina completely exposed to the
>stares of the little girls the sexual overtones were hard to miss. Jennifer
>stepped between the helpless woman’s spread legs, and just stood there as
>if unsure what to do next. She was wearing white running shoes with pink
>stripes, and white ankle socks – then she just lifted one foot, and kicked
>Emily in the groin. The toe-punt caught Emily just below her vagina and she
>groaned in agony, lifting her shoulders off the carpet. The girls just laughed,
>which was worse then the pain and humiliation – they were enjoying it. Jennifer’s
>second blow was a stamping action, as if Emily’s genitals were a bug she
>was squishing.
>
> 
>
>Jenny had thought about hurting her new toy a lot, she had even sat with
>Lisa and Hannah drawing pictures of how to hurt a grownup. But now she was
>actually doing it… well… it was even more fun than she thought it would be.
>Watching Miss Devallier’s eyes roll back, and that stupid moaning noise was
>just too funny, and she burst out laughing. The prepubescent terror stomped
>her helpless victim’s cunny bits several times, then ground them with the
>serrated sole of her running shoe.
>
>‘Cool,’ said Lisa, her eyes all wide and excited, ‘we should get a whip or
>something’.
>
>‘Yeah,’ agreed Hannah. ‘Maybe we could train her to do stuff, like a pet
>or something.
>
>Jenny laughed, and stomped menacingly to her closet, where she opened a drawer
>and took out her riding crop.
>
>‘This will do nicely for toy training I think,’ she said, swishing the crop
>through the air. The girl’s new pet shut her eyes tight. ‘No!’ shouted Jenny,
>lashing the woman’s legs, ‘never shut your eyes less we tell you to, you
>got to look at us when we play wiv you – understand?’ The toy nodded and
>opened its eyes. Jenny gave the stupid woman her best angry stare, right
>in the eyes, with her cheeks puffed out and everything. ‘Good,’ the eight
>year-old said. ‘Now… what shall we teach her to do?’
>
>‘Something gross,’ said Hannah.
>
>‘Yeah, really gross,’ added Lisa. ‘Like… kissing our feet’.
>
>The girls took off their shoes and socks and stood over their toy, who had
>started trembling and crying as she looked up at the three evilly grinning
>little faces. This just excited Jenny even more, it was cool knowing the
>toy was scared. Scaring her was nearly as much fun as hurting her – but not
>quite.
>
>‘If you make a noise we will kill you an bury you in the woods,’ said Jenny
>in her most menacing voice. She wouldn’t really kill the toy, that was wrong,
>but it shut her up. Jenny bent down and untied the long sports sock from
>around the toy’s head, and pulled the little white one out of its mouth –
>it was wet and horrid so she threw it in the laundry basket. Then Lisa placed
>her foot over the toy’s mouth, Miss Devallier was whimpering a bit, but she
>wasn’t shouting or anything, just like she’d been told.
>
>‘Kiss my foot toy,’ said Lisa, and the woman did. ‘Again!’ said Lisa, giggling.
>
>‘Yuk that’s gross,’ said Hannah, ‘I would hate to be a slave’.
>
>‘Let me have a go,’ said Jenny excitedly. She placed her naked little foot
>over Miss Devallier’s mouth and made her kiss the sole. Jenny wriggled her
>toes looking at the glitter-pink nail polish. It had taken her ages to put
>on, and she’d done it very carefully, it hardly went over the edges at all.
>Without warning Jenny shoved her toes in the toy’s mouth. ‘Suck them,’ she
>giggled, ‘suck my pretty toes toy’. Miss Devallier started making noises
>like when she had her gag in, but she just lay there with Jenny’s foot in
>her mouth. Jenny just grinned and whacked one of the toy’s boobies with the
>crop. ‘Suck!’ she commanded. ‘Suck your owner’s toes you loser’. The woman
>did as she was told and the other girls clapped and laughed.
>
>‘What’s it like,’ asked Hannah excitedly.
>
>‘Really cool,’ said Jenny, ‘it’s all warm an squishy, an you can wriggle
>your toes while they’re in there’.
>
>‘Can I have a go,’ Hannah asked, placing her naked foot on Miss Devallier’s
>cheek.
>
>‘Sure,’ said Jenny casually, ‘we can do it as much as we like – I’m gonna
>do it every day so my feet are always nice an clean’. She pulled out her
>wet little foot and dried her toes on the toy’s hair. Hannah stuck hers in
>so quick the toy hardly had time to let out a little moan. Miss Devallier’s
>mouth was full of little toes again and she looked really miserable about
>it, which made sense to Jenny because sucking little girl’s feet (especially
>when they haven’t washed them) was totally gross. But she liked it that her
>toy wasn’t having fun, that was how it was supposed to be. Toys weren’t allowed
>to have any fun at all, they were for having fun with.
>
> 
>
> 
>
>To be continued…
>
> 
>
>Ó Sarah J. 2004
>
> 
>
>The rest of this series and my stories are at:
>
>http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Young_Lesbian_Femdom
>
> 
>
>And you can email me on:
>
>sarahs_socks@hotmail.com
>
>An Sarah says… moan, moan, moan… :-) gotta have feedback or I wont write
>anymore… yada, yada, yada…
>
>So write me okay??? But put something proper in the title okay,  or I will
>think it’s a virus an delete it by mistake.
>
> 
>
>Thanks.
>
> 
>
>Sarah x©x©
>
> 
>
>
>_______________________________________________________________________________
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