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Subject: LESSONS IN CHILD MODELING
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===================
LESSONS IN CHILD MODELING
BY X-FILE
Vanessa stood rooted to the spot by a mixture of fear and fascination. The
man, who she guessed was her new employer stood beside an artist's easel
calmly surveying his subject, a girl about Vanessa's own age - twelve - who
hung by her arms, her thigh-high booted feet barely touching the parquet
floor.
Her arms were held stretched above her by a slender, yet obviously strong
cord, which at one end was fastened to a ceiling beam and at the other was
clipped onto a pair of leather cuffs that bound the girl's wrists close together.
Apart from the high black boots the girl was quite naked.
Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat Vanessa hardly dared breathe
as the man, his back still turned to her, took a few steps back from his
easel and regarded his subject. He stood, feet apart, hands on hips then
ran the fingers of one hand through his short dark hair.
"Hang your head back like I told you yesterday," he ordered, his voice as
cold and hard as iron. The girl whose head had been lolling forward, her
long tousled hair covering her face, which in turn was obscured by her up-stretched
arms, obeyed the instruction.
Her hair fell clear of her face to reveal that she wore a black velvet blindfold
and a black leather covered ball gag that filled her mouth, forcing her jaws
painfully wide. Vanessa caught her breath and hearing her the man swung around.
His gaze swept over her, anger flaring in his eyes, then recognition and
a smile slowly flickered across his face.
"You must be Vanessa."
"I'm sorry if I..."
The man shrugged, waving aside her attempt at apology. He was no more than
forty, clean shaven, tall, wearing black jeans and black polo neck. He calmly
regarded Vanessa and when her glance flickered to the little girl hanging
behind him he allowed himself a smile of satisfaction. Her cheeks flushed
as her eyes and the man's met again and they read each other's thoughts.
"I made it very clear to your parents that I wanted a nude model." The subtext
of his statement was a question for Vanessa: was she now afraid of the summer
job her mom and dad asked her to do?
"I know." Vanessa nodded mechanically. Her heart was racing now, her palms
clammy. Inside her she felt a tide of panic swell and rise.
"And I gave your mother photographs to see my type of work."
"Not... not... like..." Vanessa glanced at the little girl and it was an
effort to tear her gaze away. There was something strangely hypnotic about
the spectacle.
"Not quite like that?" suggested the man, finishing Vanessa's sentence for
her. "I had a commission come through and Michelle was very willing..." Vanessa
nodded dumbly.
"Take a look," the man smiled disarmingly, gesturing for her to inspect the
sketches on his easel.
Vanessa gingerly moved into the room and pushing her long blonde hair clear
of her face she bent forwards to scrutinise the sketches.
"This was the first." The man was beside her, lifting one sketch aside to
reveal another.
"This came later."
In both the child had her head hung backwards, and was blindfolded and gagged,
but in the second her tiny young breasts were distended from weights that
hung clipped to her swollen nipples.
Vanessa wanted to recoil in disgust from the images but she found herself
spellbound. Looking at the girl hanging before her, she imagined herself
in her place and she experienced the first stirring of sexual hunger in her
loins.
"You see Vanessa, my pictures and photographs are sold to collectors around
the world who have, shall we say... a penchant for seeing female children
in some degree of distress. The photograph I sent your mother to illustrate
my style of work, which was it?"
"A naked girl standing at a window with her hands tied behind her back,"
Vanessa answered mechanically, her gaze flicking from the sketches before
her to the girl in front of her.
"Yes. Very restrained. But you surely got the message?"
Vanessa nodded her head.
"Good. I'm looking forward to working with you."
The man reached into his back pocket, took something out and strolled up
to his subject.
"This is Michelle's last session. She's been with me since April." Speaking
quite matter-of-factly, he nonchalantly cupped the girl's left little breast
with one hand and with the fingers of his other hand he began toying with
her nipple. Vanessa watched as the girl tried ineffectually to twist herself
away as her nipple was worked until fully erect, then, her breast held firmly
with one hand to prevent her from pulling away, the man clipped a small,
black, tear shaped weight onto her nipple. Vanessa heard the girl give a
short intake of breath through her nostrils and murmur something that the
gag made incoherent. The man withdrew his hand from supporting the weight
of the little girl's breast, then calmly, almost casually, he dealt with
the other breast in a like fashion before standing back to regard his handiwork.
"Michelle darling, try to keep still."
The child was writhing more and more frantically even whilst they watched.
Her muffled cries became more and more urgent but because of the ball gag
they remained no louder than the creaking of the leather around her wrists
as she twisted and pulled against her restraints.
***
The wind relentlessly threw the rain against the large plate glass window.
Scarcely visible through the rain, the sea surged, foaming waves twenty feet
high pounding the glistening black cliffs unceasingly. The sky was bristling
with ranks of storm clouds that closed menacingly over the lonely house.
Scarra stood at the end of a mile long pot-holed track that led from the
nearest road, itself one of those narrow, seldom used, twisting lanes that
thread the wild peninsulas of the far north west coast of Scotland. Her parents
drove her all the way from London. She remembers gazing around her, the wind
flicking her hair across her eyes when they arrived to their destination.
The road stretched desertedly in both directions and on either side of the
road the moor yawned empty, punctuated only by pools of black water. They
had stared down the track but no house was in sight, though in the distance
she could see the sea. The damp wind had begun to eat into her clothes but
it was more the thought of what lay ahead that had made Vanessa shiver despite
her mother's assurances.
Now though, inside the studio, it was pleasantly warm which was a comfort
for her as she discarded her jeans and tossed them over the chair where her
T-shirt already lay.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Yes. It's really quiet here. I mean, the only sound is the wind. It's strange
after London."
"Sasha organised you breakfast?"
"Yes, thanks."
"Okay, now turn around."
Vanessa obeyed, glancing from the man to the window and then around the room.
Surreal, she thought, she was really here, after so many talks with her parents
and weeks of anticipation. The day she'd read the magazine advertisement
seemed an age away now. School, London, her friends, her whole life up to
yesterday suddenly seemed so distant that she now felt it almost beyond her
grasp.
"So your favourite singer is Britney Spears?"
"Yes," Vanessa answered, forcing herself to keep still as the man slowly
circling her drew closer and closer.
"You're shivering, would you like the heating turned up more?"
"No. No. I think it's just nerves. Sorry."
"Don't apologise. It's natural. The first session is always the most difficult."
No kidding, thought Vanessa, forcing herself to stand obediently still as
the man circled her. She felt his hand stroking over her shoulder and down
her arm as if she was some puppy he was inspecting. Her mind replayed the
words her parents made her write her first letter to him... I'm four feet
seven, blonde with blue eyes. I enjoy swimming and gymnastics to keep fit.
I'm in year six and like going to school and would be really interested in
your vacancy for a summer model.'
"Take your training bra off."
Vanessa smiled to herself. The man stood patiently waiting; the atmosphere
was tense with anticipation. Vanessa reached behind her, one of her finger
nails flicked the frail hook of metal free from its clasp and the straps
loosened across her shoulders. She couldn't resist looking sideways at the
man as she allowed the gossamer material to slacken from its caress around
her budding little breasts.
She tossed the bra onto the chair, furtively glancing as she did so to the
man's crotch. To her delight there was the telltale bulge against the black
denim. She'd have him begging for her, she mused, just like the boys at her
school she enjoyed using for her own pleasure.
The man's gaze lingered on her little breasts. Slowly, thoughtfully he licked
his lips and nodded approvingly. Vanessa remembered how he had calmly caressed
Michelle's breasts. His thumb brushing over her nipples to harden them before
he had clipped on the weights. A shiver of expectation ran through her and
Vanessa glanced down to see that her own nipples were becoming erect as her
mind replayed what she had witnessed the other girl being forced to experience.
"Now your pants."
Vanessa hesitated for only a second. She had been rehearsing this moment
for weeks and had fantasised about the pleasure she would extract from being
this man's submissive model. Each day they worked together he would be having
to force himself not to touch her but all the time she'd be subtly teasing
him, provoking him, until he was gagging for it.
In her mind she imagined him sat reading her second letter, probably smiling
to himself as he examined her photograph more closely...
"Dear Mister Marshall, thank you so much for your reply to my letter of the
11th and for your explanation of the type of work you are expecting from
your model. I am quite prepared to model naked and my parents have no objection
for me to role-play as you describe it, "the submissive female child". I
understand that you would wish to paint and photograph me bound and restrained
and me and my parents give consent to this. I hope you will regard my application
favourably. I would be your most willing subject.
Yours sincerely, Vanessa Richardson, age 12."
Vanessa held her gaze straight ahead as the man circled her, then the door
opened and the man stood back, nodding as if satisfied with what he saw.
Vanessa glanced sideways at the young woman who'd entered.
"I saw Michelle onto the bus. It's foul out there today." The young woman
glanced at Vanessa as she lit herself a cigarette, then she asked the man;
"So how's your new recruit shaping up?"
Sasha, Vanessa guessed, was in her mid-twenties. She had introduced herself
that morning as 'Michael's partner', whilst helping Vanessa to cereal and
toast as they sat at the kitchen table. As Vanessa ate, the older girl sipped
from a mug of steaming, freshly ground coffee and intermittently inhaled
on a Gauloise that she toyed with in her other hand. Chatting, she'd seemed
amiable and Vanessa quickly felt at her ease with her.
Vanessa's mother had done some research on Michael Marshall and found a couple
of brief references to him in some more obscure modern art books. The most
detail was in one book published in America that commented; 'Michael Marshall.
Trained Saumur Academie d'Art and the Vellaris School Amsterdam. Mostly female
nudes. 'The Subdued Vixen' auctioned New York 1996 sold for £26,000 was roundly
criticised and by the Herald Tribune described as 'Pure pornography dressed
up as art.'
There was a picture of the painting and the model was 11-year-old Sasha.
Naked, she knelt secured to a table leg by a collar and lead and was captured
by the artist whilst she drank like a cat from a bowl of milk.
Now 19, Sasha wore black leather trousers tucked into black boots and a loose
fitting, red, turtleneck cashmere jumper and it was Vanessa who was completely
naked. As Sasha walked behind her, Vanessa caught the scent of her French
cigarettes and expensive French perfume.
"Right Vanessa, come over here, I want you to try some things on."
Vanessa quickly followed the man across to a large old walnut wardrobe from
which he was already handing her a pair of white socks.
Beside the wardrobe was a footstool and balancing her feet in turn on this
she pulled on the calf length socks.
"Try this skirt on - it'll be a bit tight but see." Vanessa smiled enthusiastically
as she wriggled into the short, navy blue pleated skirt.
"How does that look?" she asked, smiling hopefully.
"Short enough to almost show your bottom off. Just perfect. Now put on this
shirt."
"I think it may be too small," Vanessa eyed the white cotton shirt dubiously
but slid her arms into the sleeves and managed to fasten the buttons at her
waist.
"Leave the other buttons undone. Put this tie on but inside the collar of
the shirt."
"This is meant to be a school uniform isn't it?"
The man nodded, an enigmatic smile flickering across his face as Vanessa
eagerly slipped the blue and white striped tie inside the collar of the shirt
and knotted it around her neck so that it hung over her bare chest, it's
pointed tip dangling between her budding nipples. When she bent from the
waist to fasten the straps of the black high-heeled shoes she was given to
wear, her perky breasts pointed down from the skimpy cotton shirt and Vanessa
felt deliciously lewd. She was loving every minute of this.
"Okay Vanessa, let me talk you through how I work and what I want. Follow
me."
Vanessa came quickly to heel just behind her new employer as he strode across
the study and threw open a door to a room that was new to Vanessa. For a
second Vanessa hesitated in the doorway, taking in the contents of the room.
Behind her, Sasha, with one hand between her shoulder blades and the other
against her waist, pushed Vanessa into the room, putting her own back against
the door until it shut with an ominously heavy thud.
"This is where we start," Michael stepped sideways to afford Vanessa a clear
view of the room, "It's here that you learn to feel your part. My clients
pay for realism and that has to show in the subject's eyes. What's the point
in having a picture of a girl tied up, maybe about to be whipped, when the
expression in her eyes is one of boredom and ambivalence, because she knows
that nothing is really going to happen and that she's just modelling, just
pretending..."
"But... I'm willing to be tied up and I can pretend to..."
"That's just my point Vanessa. I don't want to see you pretending. You see,
you're going to have to learn to fear what we're going to do with you."
"I... I don't understand," Vanessa stammered.
"No, I think you do."
The man smiled grimly, moved across to a table and unscrewed the lid from
a small bottle." You've guessed well enough what's really expected from you
and that's why you came here. You want this."
"No, I..." Vanessa shook her head.
"You'll be perfect," Sasha reassured, stroking Vanessa's shoulder, "just
relax and trust us."
As the man walked back up to her Vanessa saw he held a thick pad of cotton
wool in the palm of one hand. He was smiling disarmingly.
"You see Vanessa, when one of my clients looks at pictures of a disobedient
little school girl who is being punished, the expression in her face has
to be right..."
"I'm sorry, I think maybe..."
"Don't think baby, just let us look after you," Sasha whispered from close
behind her. Vanessa caught a chemical smell in the air then for a moment
it was masked by Sasha's French perfume and cigarettes. The woman's hands
reassuringly stroked down both her arms.
"I'm sorry Mister Marshall but..."
"Michael. Call me Michael."
He stood close in front of her radiating calm. Then he smiled disarmingly.
"Don't worry Vanessa. If you don't enjoy the work after the first session
we'll stop and call your parents to pick you up, all right?"
"Okay then." Vanessa nodded.
"Good girl."
"This will make everything easier for you the first time Vanessa. Just trust
us," Sasha said, her hands tightening around Vanessa's biceps and drawing
her arms backwards.
"But what...'
Vanessa was never able to finish her question. A thick pad of cotton wool
was suddenly pressing against her face and although she wanted to pull free
from it Sasha was firmly grasping her arms, thwarting her efforts. The chemical
smell assailed her, giddiness overtaking her immediately. Oh God, she thought,
they're going to drug me! Got to get free! She tried twisting her face away
but a hand was behind her head. Let me go! She shook her head frantically
but she couldn't tear herself away from the chemical soaked pad that pressed
against her face. To her dismay she felt the strength suddenly evaporate
from her arms. Wide eyed, she implored the man to let her go but he merely
smiled his apology, one hand firmly pressing the pad of wool against her
mouth and nose, his other preventing her from pulling her head back. She
felt her body go weak and her eyelids grew heavy, sleepiness stealing over
her even as she knew that she had to resist. For a few seconds Vanessa started
to struggle again in one last frantic bid to save herself. Her strength was
gone though and she was doing no more than wriggling in the arms of the girl
who held her. The man was smiling with satisfaction. For a few more seconds
she floated giddily between awareness and unconsciousness.
***
Sasha lit herself another Gauloise, inhaled deeply and gazed out of the window.
The rain had washed the colour from the landscape. Sea, sky and land were
shades of slate grey. The wind, which was still rising, echoed up from the
cliff caves like a banshee and the only other noise was the dull grinding
of sea against rock. A faint murmur behind her made Sasha glance back over
her shoulder. She smiled to herself seeing Vanessa weakly lift her head.
"Enjoy your little sleep Vanessa?" Sasha asked, forcing her voice to sound
concerned, her words dripping with honeyed sweetness, "...does our baby have
a little bit of a sore head? Don't worry, it'll wear off. What's wrong darling,
you look so concerned? Is something the matter?"
"Please... what... ugh... I feel sick..."
"Poor little lamb. It's just the after effect from the chloroform. You just
lie still now," Sasha said, stubbing out her cigarette. "Don't worry Vanessa,
I'll take good care of you. We won't do anything to you that you don't like."
She watched Vanessa testing her restraints. Three-inch wide, supple leather
cuffs. Well worn on the inside but still shiny black on the outside. Brass
double buckles closely fastened so the leather was snug around Vanessa's
wrists and ankles.
"What a pleasing sight," Sasha commented dryly.
They had put Vanessa on what Michael referred to simply as 'the bench'; a
sturdy pine table that Michael had bolted onto the studio floor, it had leather
straps fixed to two of its solid legs. On its top at the other end two brass
rings were fastened to the corners and down the sides of the table were spaced
several broad, long, leather belts, fixed through straps of leather screwed
down into the table. On the other side of the table were more straps to feed
the belts through, these likewise screwed onto the wood. The belts, for the
present, dangled unused down over the floor.
Vanessa lay, bent from the waist, face down over the tabletop, her arms outstretched
above her, her wristcuffs clipped onto the brass rings. The leather straps
around the table legs were threaded through the rings on her ankle cuffs
and by this means her legs were held securely against the table's legs.
Vanessa was gazing at her outstretched arms, her expression slowly changing
from curiosity to concern as she twisted her wrists ineffectually trying
to free herself.
"Michael, she's awake."
Sasha removed her cashmere jumper, smiling at Vanessa who was now lifting
her head and trying to take in what was around her. Sasha toyed with the
stud in her belly button then ran her hands over her black lacy Valentino
bra, licking her lips thoughtfully and glancing across to Michael who was
adjusting the tripod height and focus on the second video camera.
"Not quite as sexy as yours, are they Vanessa? I envy you... I was like you
once. I think your little tities got you the job, you know." Sasha gently
stroked herself, feeling her nipple harden under the silk, then she dug in
the front pocket of her leather jeans and pulled out a silk scarf in the
same school pattern as the tie which Vanessa wore. This she folded into a
triangle and drew across her own face as a mask. Knotting the ends at the
back of her head she reached into the back pocket of her jeans and fished
out a delicate black eye mask. "Just lie there and enjoy it Vanessa." Sasha
settled the mask over her eyes then nodded to Michael who switched on both
cameras. Sasha smoothed her hands down over her leather-trouser covered hips
and walked slowly around the table, aware that, as best she could, Vanessa
was watching her.
"What are you going to do?" Vanessa asked plaintively. Sasha smiled to herself
knowing how pleased Michael would be: what a perfect opening line. The less
cuts he had to do the better and the smoother the whole film would come together.
"Now Vanessa you've been a very naughty little girl and as Head Girl, it
falls to me to punish you." Sasha stood at the side of table, idly stroking
loose strands of blonde hair around Vanessa's earlobe. She saw Vanessa glance
at Michael, then at one of the cameras and sensing she was about to speak
she caught hold of her hair and sharply lifted her head back. Vanessa yelped
in alarm.
"It's punishment time baby." Sasha lightly struck her across one cheek with
the back of her fingers making her grunt, then more forcefully she slapped
her palm against the girl's other cheek. The look of anguish in Vanessa's
face was perfect, thought Sasha, releasing her hold on the girl's hair. She
walked across to the wardrobe and picking up a tawse, swung around and grinned
wickedly at Vanessa who immediately began twisting her arms in an attempt
to free herself.
Lifting the girl's skirt clear of her backside and letting it drape over
the small of her back, she glanced at Michael who nodded his approval. She
brought the leather tawse down hard against the exposed rump. Vanessa let
out a cry of pain. She brought the tawse down again, this time harder. "Ugh...
No..."
Sasha glanced up to see Michael walking around to the head of the bench,
out of camera shot but from where he had a good view of Vanessa's face. She
knew he liked to watch their pretty little faces become contorted with pain
and humiliation. After half a dozen strokes every girl began to cry or plead.
Sasha had seen plenty of little girls put on the bench. It was the initiation
to the weeks ahead at Scarra. Most put up a determined struggle to free themselves.
It was amusing to watch. Their slim limbs soon glossy with sweat as they
twisted and writhed, pulling and struggling against the broad cuffs of leather
she and Michael had fastened around their wrists and ankles. Their young
faces soon filled with fear, glancing over one shoulder then the other as
they realised that there was nothing they could do to control what lay ahead
for them.
Sasha brought the tawse down again and Vanessa grunted with the sudden pain.
Michael nodded his approval and walked away.
"How are we feeling now, Vanessa? Beginning to regret being such a bad little
girl?" Sasha stroked her hand over the girl's rump, feeling her trembling
as she traced the red marks the leather had made on her soft flesh.
"You know this is how bad girls get treated don't you?" Sasha let her hand
linger on Vanessa's bottom.
"Let me go! I want my Mommy!" Vanessa cried.
Sasha laughed throatily and as one palm gently stroked the bound girl's bottom
her other hand reached between the globes of soft flesh. She pushed one finger
inside. Vanessa grunted. Sasha rubbed her finger into the folds of warm hairless
flesh. They were moist and again Vanessa grunted. Sasha smiled to herself.
"Tell me you know that you're a bad little girl."
"Leave me alone! You are molesting me. You will go to jail!" Vanessa breathed.
Sasha stepped back and again brought the tawse down hard on the exposed rump.
Vanessa groaned. Once more Sasha found the girl's vulva and stroked slowly
against it with one fingertip. Vanessa sighed, twisting against the leather
restraints.
"Tell me you're a bad little girl or this will go on until you won't be able
to stop crying."
Vanessa muttered something under her breath. Sasha smiled to herself and
hit her again with the tawse. Vanessa gave another anguished groan.
Sasha and Michael exchanged glances. Usually by now the girls were screaming
and shouting to be freed, pleading to go home, claiming that this wasn't
what they'd wanted. Most, but not all. There were a few like this one. Haughty,
arrogant but underneath that veneer they were different. They behaved like
this one. Yes, this little blonde beauty with her beautiful tiny breasts,
pouting lips and wide innocent eyes was a natural submissive. Michael, had
chosen well this time...
Sasha brought the tawse down again hard on Vanessa's rump then she walked
slowly around the bench, for the benefit of the camera, looking down disdainfully
at her captive. Standing at the head of the table Sasha meshed her fingers
into Vanessa's hair.
"How are we feeling now Vanessa?"
"Please... I want my Mommy..."
"Yes?" Sasha lifted Vanessa's head back, her silky blonde hair tousled and
damp with sweat, the young girl looked up at her, tears pricking her eyes.
"Please... I'm sorry..."
"Of course you are. Now you just have to satisfy the Headmaster and then
we can maybe let you return to your dormitory." Sasha glanced up to see Michael,
already wearing the black robe, adjusting the black hood that he'd pulled
on. She smiled sympathetically at Vanessa who looked up imploringly at her.
She was trembling and Sasha could see blood where the girl had bitten down
on her lip.
"This is so unnecessary Vanessa, why don't you just admit that you've been
a bad little girl?"
"I'm sorry... I've been a bad little girl... please... don't punish me any
more." Her voice was choked, plaintive. Perfect, mused Sasha who bent to
retrieve one of the belts that dangled unused at the table's edge.
"Well now Vanessa, if you can satisfy the Headmaster, we can let you go.
You want to make the Headmaster happy don't you?" Sasha glanced to Michael
who now stood at the end of the table directly behind Vanessa's spread legs.
Vanessa lifted her head, following Sasha's gaze and she saw the hooded figure
motionless behind her, like some black robed member of a dark sect of demon
worshippers.
"Please..." she murmured, "I only..."
"Want to please us," said Sasha, softly laughing as she tossed the belt she
was holding across Vanessa's back.
She picked up the next belt and flicked it over her, then walked around to
the other side where the loose ends now dangled.
"You've been such a bad little girl, you have to be punished properly. You
must understand that." Sasha explained apologetically as she slipped the
belts through the straps fastened on the other side of the table.
"Now be a brave girl and don't cry or we may have to punish you even more,"
Sasha warned as she tossed the belts back again across Vanessa's prone body,
all the time aware of the two video cameras recording her every move, her
every word.
Unhurriedly she fed the first belt together and pulled it tight. The leather
came down across Vanessa's back just below her shoulders. Sasha pulled firmly
until Vanessa grunted in discomfort then she buckled the belt fast and attended
to the other. This one came over Vanessa's rump. Sasha edged the belt a little
higher, just clear of the girl's bottom and just below the base of her spine.
She pulled the belt tight and fastened it. Vanessa turned her head sideways,
gazing at her, her nostrils flared, her eyes wide with fear, looking like
some wild creature caught at bay.
Sasha went across to the wardrobe and selected two more leather belts, a
tie that matched the one Vanessa was wearing and a gossamer fine silk scarf.
She exchanged a questioning glance with Michael, her hand on an expanding
butt plug. Michael nodded, making her smile and she picked up the rubber
device and a jar of coconut butter.
"Does this feel good?" she teased, feeling Vanessa's legs trembling as she
wrapped one of the belts around Vanessa's right thigh and fastened the belt
so that Vanessa's leg was now held snugly against one table leg.
"You like feeling helpless like this, don't you baby? You enjoy this, this
is why you're a bad little girl isn't it?"
Sasha dealt with Vanessa's left leg in a similar fashion and smiled with
satisfaction as she saw how helpless the girl was now, her legs spread and
held wide, her arms outstretched and the broad leather belts taut over her
back.
Behind her Michael stood patiently, though when Sasha stood up having completed
her task she felt his hand settle on her hip then move up her ribs until
his fingertips brushed her right breast.
For a second Sasha stood allowing herself to focus on Michael's touch, his
fingertips now moving slowly over the lace of her bra until he found her
nipple which he gently rubbed with his thumb. However many times they initiated
a new child it never failed to arouse both of them and they had to discipline
themselves to focus on the job in hand and to wait until later for other
pleasures...
Standing now at the head of the bench facing Vanessa, Sasha nodded to Michael
signalling that she was ready. She watched him raising the tawse then bring
it down hard on the exposed rump. Sasha watched Vanessa's eyes smart with
pain.
"Such a bad little girl..."
The tawse came down again and Vanessa whimpered, pulling her arms hopelessly
and unable now even to lift herself a fraction from the table. Sasha watched
the young girl's face as the tawse struck again. She could sense the camera
to the side recording; she knew that it would be focused in close up on Vanessa's
face. The other camera on the far side, positioned a little to the rear captured
the whole scene: the child strapped down over the table, the man whipping
her and herself standing above the victim's head, her face, concealed by
the mask, smiling at their subject's discomfort and humiliation.
"Uh... God... no..."
Sasha saw Vanessa twist urgently now against the leather straps, she had
reached her point of tolerance. Now her little body was washed with pain,
she'd had enough, though she'd lasted a little longer than most. The tawse
hit her again and she cried out, shaking her head.
"Stop it... please... I'm sorry... stop..." Vanessa's voice was choked, plaintive.
Again the tawse slapped down on her bare skin and Vanessa gave a long, anguished
groan. She was panting hard now, perspiration running down her cheeks and
neck. The white cotton shirt clung damp about her, her hair was plastered
wetly across her pain-racked face and Sasha for a moment allowed herself
the pleasure of just watching.
Thighs spread forcefully apart by the belts, sweat shining on her skin, her
exposed rump red with from the beating, the blue skirt bunched up over the
small of her back which was held down by the broad leather belts, the black
leather contrasting so satisfyingly with the white blouse. Slender arms held
outstretched, twisting hands jammed against the wristcuffs, what a picture
she looked, thought Sasha, smiling with satisfaction.
She and Michael exchanged glances and Sasha felt her pulse quicken when Michael
gave her a brief affirmative nod.
"Lift up your head Vanessa, there's a good girl," Sasha coaxed, meshing her
fingers into Vanessa's tousled blonde hair then drawing her head firmly back.
"Ugh... please... stop..."
She stood on the left side of Vanessa so that the camera had a clear view
as, with her other hand, she began feeding the silk scarf into the girl's
mouth.
"No... uhh... stop... ughh..."
"Keep still baby. No don't try to spit it out, you have to let me..."
Vanessa struggled more vigorously but Sasha merely drew her victim's head
back further then stood close against her trapping Vanessa's head against
her hip.
"Now be a good girl and keep still."
"Uhhh... nnh..."
One hand across Vanessa's mouth, with her free hand Sasha dug in the pockets
of her leather jeans and pulled out the school tie.
"Nearly finished now..."
"Nnnngh..."
Sasha had the tie twice across Vanessa's mouth and was knotting it at her
nape.
"There we are now. How does that feel?"
Sasha stood back, watching as Vanessa tried ineffectually to shake herself
free of the gag.
"Ugh....uhh....nghh..."
Sasha thought to herself how perfect she looked now, the tie tight across
her cheeks, her long hair hanging free as she shook her head like some hooked
fish, her slim arms twisting and pulling ineffectually against the broad
leather that was tight around her slender wrists.
Vanessa lifted her head, straining to look back over her shoulder. The man
was caressing her bottom, his hands moving slowly over the swell of her little
buttocks. She saw Sasha watching her and looked questioningly at her.
"The Headmaster is now going to fuck you." Sasha answered simply.
Vanessa stared in disbelief over her shoulder as she felt fingers move between
her buttocks then slowly draw the mounds of flesh apart. She shook her head.
"Nnhh... nghh..."
"Doesn't this little schoolgirl want to make her Headmaster happy?"
"Nnhh..."
Vanessa shook her head as one fingertip moved slowly across the soft slit
of her sex, then several fingers were opening her sex, calmly invading her
body, peeling the folds of soft pinkness away to expose her for the fingers
of his other hand.
"Nnngh... nhh... uhh..."
Several fingers together were insinuating their way into her, forcing her
wide, then stroking. Vanessa to her shame felt herself nearing orgasm.
"She's very wet. Obviously been enjoying this too much. I won't add to her
pleasure by having her this way just yet."
Vanessa grunted through the gag as the fingers withdrew from her pussy. "Better
give me that jar."
"Certainly Headmaster."
Vanessa felt one hand against her rump, then fingers smeared with something
greasy were stroking over the crater of her anus. Vanessa grunted as the
coconut butter was massaged into her sphincter until it softened and yielded.
When a fingertip slid a little way inside her anus Vanessa sighed through
the gag.
"She likes that, perhaps we should give her something a little more substantial
to enjoy?"
"Every tried one of these, little girl?" asked Sasha.
Vanessa lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder to see Sasha holding
a butt plug, a wicked grin on her face as she squeezed the pump and the device
expanded. Two more squeezes on the pump which was connected to the plug by
a long tube and the plug had changed from a slender little dildo to something
thicker than a cucumber. Sasha gave the pump two more squeezes and the butt
plug had grown in thickness to the size of a grapefruit. Vanessa gazed up
at her, eyes wide with alarm and she shook her head begging Sasha not to,
but Sasha, smiling sympathetically, deflated the device, moved to behind
Vanessa's spread legs and gave a low taunting laugh.
"Now lie still Vanessa and just enjoy the feeling."
"Uhhh..."
"Hush baby, just enjoy it."
"Nnnhh!"
"A little more lubrication I think. Let's try again."
Vanessa felt Sasha's fingers smearing more of the coconut butter into her
anus then the rubber tip was pushed again against the child's sphincter this
time more firmly.
"Nnhh..."
"Let it all in, there's a good little girl."
"Nnhh!"
Vanessa tried closing her legs but the broad leather belts held her spread
as she felt the rubber device being pushed inside her body, her sphincter
being forced to widen to accommodate it's thickening girth.
"Uhh..."
She felt the flared end of the plug enter her, her sphincter muscle closed
around the narrow neck and then the broad flat base was pushed firmly against
her anus.
"There, how does that feel Vanessa?"
Vanessa glanced up to see Sasha looking down at her a cruel smile playing
over her face. In one hand she held the pump and Vanessa looked in alarm
at the thin hose that dangled from it and disappeared between her own thighs.
Urgently Vanessa squeezed her anus muscles to expel the plug. With all her
effort she was able to excrete the flared end of the plug and then the rest
easily followed.
"Oh, you naughty little girl, you mustn't do that."
"Nnhh..."
Vanessa wriggled in protest against the leather restraints as with one hand
Sasha firmly pushed the butt plug back inside her.
"Now then Vanessa, it's play time."
Before Vanessa could try again to force the plug out, Sasha gave a single
squeeze on the pump and Vanessa felt the device inside her expand. This time
when she struggled to expel it she failed and she was left, bathed in sweat,
exhausted and close to tears.
"Is that feeling good?" Sasha taunted, giving the pump another couple of
squeezes.
"Nnngh!"
Vanessa shook her head, it was filling her already and she was certain she
couldn't take anymore.
"Come on now Vanessa, just relax..."
Vanessa grunted as a fingertip stroked her vulva.
"So moist. You're enjoying this aren't you?" cooed Sasha as she continued
to rub her fingertip against Vanessa's sex.
"Nnnhh... uuhh... uhh..."
Now the butt plug was slowly vibrating and Vanessa knew she was going to
come quickly.
"Is that good?"
"Mmmh..."
The vibrations intensified and Vanessa screwing her eyes shut, cried out
through the gag as she climaxed. She was still shuddering in the aftermath
of her orgasm when Michael walked around the top of the table and lifted
her head by her hair.
"She enjoyed that. I think she'd like some more."
Vanessa gazed up at the man, her body awash with the afterglow of her orgasm.
"Shall I continue then Headmaster?"
"Certainly." The man nodded, glancing down at Vanessa, whose head he was
still lifting by his hold on her long blonde hair.
The vibrations stopped. Vanessa was gazing dreamily at the man when the plug
inside her expanded again.
"Nnghh!"
The man gave a nod and Vanessa felt the device inside her enlarge even more.
Now she really couldn't take any more and she jerked her arms and legs against
the leather cuffs and straps that held her down in a frantic bid to escape.
The man watched her expression with interest for a few moments then he let
go of her hair and walked back to the other end of the table.
"Switch it on again."
"Certainly Headmaster."
"Nnnhh..."
The vibrations intensified and for maybe a minute Vanessa lasted until her
second orgasm came.
"Uuhh... uuhh..."
"Enough: leave her like that. It's time."
Vanessa lifted her head weakly as she heard the man speaking. The vibrations
stopped. Then she heard the dull metal scrape of his trouser zip. The palms
of his hands settled over her rump, easing the mounds of flesh apart.
"The plug will make her feel nice and tight for you Headmaster."
"Nnhh... uhh..."
"Keep quiet little girl, it's time for the headmaster to conclude this punishment
session."
"Ngh! Nnhh... ugh..."
Vanessa, her vision now blurred by tears, screwed her eyes shut as she felt
the tip of his shaft slide down into the canyon of soft flesh her buttocks
formed. She shook her head, begging him not to.
"Nnngh... nnghhh!"
Her body tensed as the tip of his shaft slid into her pussy. Because of the
plug filling her anus the sensation of his cock inside her pussy was unbearable
intense. Vanessa cried out through the gag as she felt herself being stretched
to accommodate him. His hands stroked down her flanks and held her by the
hips. She couldn't take his cock in her as well... it was too much...
"Nnhh..."
"Hush now."
"Uhh..."
Vanessa felt his shaft forcing its way into her young body until the hilt
reached her buttocks and his swollen balls pressed against her soft flesh.
The sensation of both her passages being filled was too much and she cried
through the gag as she came again. She felt him draw back, her body convulsing
at the sensation, then he pushed again, harder.
"Nnnhh..."
She grunted through the gag as he forced himself into her again.
"Enjoying it, little girl?"
"Nnhh..."
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