


Codes: MF+(g* b*) ped inc bd ws




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*   WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING  *
*        WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING        *
*                                                                              *
*                                                                              *
* For the love of SPOONS no one under the age of twenty-one (21) or the age of *
* consent for their geographical location (whichever is HIGHER) needs to be    *
* anywhere near this.  This is a story meant for legally-adult readers.  Don't *
* let your kids read this.  Don't let your dog read this.  Don't let your      *
* religious leader within the same postal code as this.  You know, really, YOU *
* probably shouldn't even read this horrible, nasty, terrible story.           *
*                                                                              *
* Hopefully it goes without saying, but if you ever even vaguely ponder the    *
* SLIGHT idea that MAYBE you would CONSIDER doing anything even REMOTELY like  *
* anything depicted herein--GET HELP.  NOW.  Therapy is a wonderful thing.     *
*                                                                              *
* This story can (and probably does) contain one or more of the following (bet *
* your last nickel on "more"): Incest, pedophilia, watersports, extreme female *
* domination, bestiality, psychological torture, and who knows WHAT other      *
* sick, perverted, dirty, terrible, and disgusting things I can come up with.  *
* Really, you ought to stop reading.  Right now.  I'm serious.                 *
*                                                                              *
* ...still here?  You sure?  This is bad-bad mojo.  Last chance...             *
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*        WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING        *
*   WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING    WARNING  *
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                               THE TIES THAT BIND
                                       by
                          Forbidden Fantasy Storyteller




        It's art, almost.  The naked thirteen-year-old chained to the bed.  
She'd been there for almost two and a half weeks, and it's ALMOST time.  Time to
see if there's hope for her.  The chains had just enough slack so she could move
a little, but not so much that she could remove the gag that kept her mouth
tightly covered.  Not that anyone would hear out here, but that's not the point.
The point is her.  She's bathed, daily, her bedpan dealt with often.  After the
first time, she learned to eat quietly.  Her face was sore all day--at least, it
was red all day--but she learned.  He'd feed her if she didn't scream.  He never
fucked her, as tempting as it was.  That would come later.  He never wore
clothing, as there was no need, and she'd have to get used to him being naked
anyway.

        She stopped struggling the fifth time he wiped her after using the
bedpan.  The eighth time she actually widened her legs for him, to make it
easier.  He thanked her and praised her, saying she was a good girl.  He stroked
her face and smiled at her.  The only time she needed discipline was that first
time she tried to refuse to eat, but now she earned praise, being told she
shouldn't need discipline anymore.

        As he tended to her, he taught her about her body.  This is a cunt or
pussy, those are your tits, that's your asshole; that sort of thing.  She
actually seemed to be paying attention, or at least showed recognition when he
would mention that he was going to wipe her asshole and pussy.

        The infamous "four conditions of Stockholm Syndrome":  Suggest or imply
a threat to physical and/or psychological survival and the willingness to carry
said threat out (the swift discipline for not eating, given without warning and
only held back enough to not do any more than bruise, though strictly controlled
to sting for the rest of the day).  Present small kindnesses (food and water,
bathing, tending to the bedpan; not so small, so they're more powerful).
Isolate from perspectives and views that aren't yours (they live--very, very far
away from anyone; easier here than it is for most).  Enforce their perception
that escape is impossible (chained to the bed for now; the best implementation of
the step would come soon).  Four steps.  Knowledge really is power.

        A nice routine was soon settled into, and soon she didn't need the gag.
He'd bathe her in the mornings, letting her lay on fresh towels, then feed her.
If he didn't check in time, she'd politely tell him she used the bedpan,
raising her hips and spreading her legs so he could wipe her.  One day, he was
absent for about thirty minutes longer than normal.  Usually he checked in on
her at least every fifteen, twenty minutes.  This time, she grew worried,
calling for him--she had no name for him, she was only told he was "sir" or
"Master" to her.  She grew quite worried, rustling and calling for him.  Finally
he came in, and she calmed immediately.  He stood near her head and stroked her
hair, feeling the way she leaned into the touch.

        "You're mine," he told her, not unkindly.  "All mine.  Do you
understand?  I gave you your life back."

        "Yes, Master," she said, knowing he prefered that to "sir" and,
especially now, desperately wanting to please him.

        "That's my good little toy," he whispered, kissing her forehead so
tenderly.  She looked like she couldn't be happier.

        The next morning, she awoke to him sitting on a chair next to her bed,
the cuffs gone.  She laid there, sincerely not knowing what to do.  She rubbed
her wrists but kept her eyes on the man, saying nothing yet.  "Come, toy, come
see my home.  Can you stand?"  With his help, she managed it.  And she even
managed to teeter naked out of the room, the plain white-walled room that had
been her dungeon, her home, for now almost four weeks.

        It was a small cottage; the living room flowing smoothly into the
kitchen as there were no doors anywhere, the only walls being the wooden ones
set up around the bed for her isolation.  Everything was open, nothing was
hidden at all.  The shower, such as it was, was outside.  A jury-rigged pipe
system led to, and up, a tree, where it was strapped.  They lived on a lush
island, you see.  In a semi-bad part of the Caribbean tropics.  Out of the way
of shipping lanes, no one would fish all the way out here, warm literally
year-round.  The girl would be nicely tanned in a month.  

        The island was held in the family for generations, since a small
privateer vessel crashed there.  One of the survivors was not all that bright,
truth to tell, and quickly lost his share of bounty of a recently-captured
pirate vessel in trade for the island (which technically was owned by the
captain since it was his vessel, so that should say something), then the poor
sod lost it the same day he was given an official deed.  A simple game of dice
cost him that island, and granted it to the forefather of this Master.

        Fresh water came from a system of pools and rivers inland, and over the
years there had been painstaking efforts to get water closer to the cottage.  It
kept the few crops irrigated, provided water for the shower system, and such.
It was also naturally a bit on the warm side.  This made bathing a rather
pleasant experience, all things considered.  And the goats that inhabited the
mountainous region inland had plenty of water (these ones being descendents of
the livestock left behind by the privateer vessel), which in turn let them be
just prolific enough to be a food source for the cottage.

        He chose the perfect time of day--mid morning, when the blue ocean
sparkled in the distance, the breeze light and carrying a hint of the sea with
it.  He could tell she loved what she saw out of the doorway.

        "Master--it's beautiful!" his toy exclaimed, voice a soft whisper.

        "And we're all alone," he said, watching her.  "Look out there--no ships
ever come here.  No other land.  No planes in the sky, nothing.  There is no one
else.  Do you understand, toy?"

        She looked around, half-marveling, half fearing, and finally looking
back to him.  She looked in his eyes and could see it was the truth.  "Yes,
master..." she whispered.

        "Good.  You know I care about you, right?"

        "Yes, Master."

        "And you love me, right?"

        "Yes, Master."

        "Are you prepared to prove it?"

        She nodded, right then believing in her heart she needed to prove it to
him.

        "Good.  Follow me."

        He led his prize back into the cottage and removed the wooden walls.
They were light; merely plywood.  He had his toy wait with her hands behind her
back while he took the plywood outside and leaned the pieces against another
tree.  When he returned, he laid on the bed, beckoning her over with a gesture.

        "Lean over and take my cock in your hands," he instructed.  Her eyes
widened, but she stepped closer, if timidly.  "That's okay.  Take it in your
hands.  Yeah, that's a good girl.  You need to prove you love me, and that means
first getting me ready for you."  He paused to make sure she was paying
attention.  "Now move your hands up and down--slowly at first."

        She pumped his cock slowly at first, unsure.  Bottom lip quirked out
from being bitten, she watched his reaction.  

        "Yeeeaaaah, that's good.  You're doing good, my toy..." he muttered,
smiling at her.  She smiled back, the tension starting to ease.  She was
pleasing him!  She started to pump faster, actually starting to enjoy this.  It
made her Master happy, and she learned that's what mattered.  Making him happy
was important.  Watching him, the child's mind made a leap--his happiness was
her life.

        "Good, baby, good..." he murmured, then reached down to lightly place
his hand over hers.  "Good, you're doing good.  Now comes another test.  Can you
do it?"

        "Yes!"

        "Good.  Coome on up here.  Climb up so your feet are on either side of
me."  He held her hands to help her onto the bed.  "Good.  Now squat--that's
right.  Got your balance?"  She nodded, though had to place one hand on his
chest.  "Good.  Now reach down with your free hand and take my cock--that's
right.  Now sit down on it, so it goes into your tight cunt."

        She paused, figuring out what he meant but still unsure.  All he had to
do was raise an eyebrow and she gulped quickly.  She managed to make the head
of his cock nestle against her pussy folds, and started to ease down.  She had
to stop when he reached her hymen.

        "Here's the test, baby," he said, watching her carefully.  "You've got
to shove your hips down, hard, as far as you can.  It'll hurt, but you have to
if you really love me."

        His toy just nodded, biting her bottom lip again.  She slammed her hips
down to his, crying out in pain as her hymen was torn.  Tears leaked from the
corners of her eyes, and she let out a choked sniffle.

        He let out a gasp, then managed to smile at her.  "Good, good--now,
slowly pull your hips back up, but not all the way."  Sniffling, she nodded and
dragged her hips back up.  She whimpered softly as his cock dragged against her
inflamed inner walls, but she did as she was told.

        "You're doing great, baby.  Now, up and down, okay?  Come on, you can do
it."  Still whimpering and sniffling, she moved her hips up and down, hands
placed on his chest.  "Faster, my toy..."  And faster she went.  He laid back
fully and just enjoyed the feel of her tight cunt gripping him.  Up and down she
moved, the sniffles only very slowly starting to end.

        After a few minutes, he reached out to lightly touch her hips, smiling
at her again.  "Alright, that's enough.  Lift yourself off of my cock, then get
on your hands and knees."  Nodding mutely, she lifted herself off, squealing
softly as his cock was pulled free.

        As she turned around and got on her hands and knees, he moved off of the
bed, saying, "You're learning quickly, baby.  You're going to hurt, but this is
a good hurt.  This means you love me.  Can you take the next test?  Answer me."

        "...y-yes, Mas-Master..." she managed to get out, breathing starting to
get back to normal.

        He looked at her, pleased with the view.  "Okay, here comes the next
test.  Remember, you are nothing without me--you need to prove you're worth my
love."

        Easing onto the bed on his knees, he positioned himself behind her and
spread her tiny ass.  Positioning the head of his dick against her asshole, he
pushed in suddenly and shoved in as far as he could go, making her scream
loudly.  Tears flowing once again, much more freely.

        "Good girl..." he rasped out, grabbing her hips.  "Such a good, good
girl..."  He pulled her back and forth along his cock, only somewhat lubricated
by her pussy.  There was no build-up--he pulled her tight ass along his cock
quickly enough to make his balls slap against her cunt.  Her sobs and whimpers
went ignored.

        "Oooohhh, you're--doing very--good, baby girl..." he groaned out, not
stopping the movement.  She barely had the presence of mind to nod to signal
that she heard him, bottom lip quivering through the sobs.

        He couldn't keep that up for long, as much as he rather wanted to enjoy
it.  Slowing down, he finally pulled out of her, the act making her squeal
again.  She collapsed onto her side, trickles of blood coming from both holes
between her legs.

        "Two holes down, baby girl--you need to give me the last.  Suck my dick
clean."  She opened her eyes though didn't move right off.  He gave her two
seconds, then CRACK went his hand on her cheek, jerking her head and leaving a
welt.  She screeched and hurried to her knees, ignoring the pain in her asshole
and pussy.

        "Need to move when I tell you to..." is all he said, leaving the rest
for her to imagine.  The stern tone certainly colored her thoughts.

        Nodding more vigorously, she stammered, "I-I'm so-so-sorry, Mas-Mas-
Master..."

        Tone friendly again, even said through a smile, he replied, "I believe
you.  Just a small slip, right?"  She nodded so hard it's almost a surprise she
didn't give herself whiplash.  "That's what I thought.  Now, suck and lick it
clean, like a good girl.  But remember, no teeth."

        Without even thinking about it, she took his moist cock in her hands and
brought it to her lips, almost inhaling it.  Her eyes stayed locked on his face,
noting every reaction, every expression.  She messed up, she knew that--and she
knew she couldn't mess up again.

        Tilting his head to the side, his hissed out, "Now lick it, all over..."

        Obediently she took her lips off of him, extending her tongue to run it
up his shaft like a lollipop.

        "Mmmm--bathe it, my toy.  Run your tongue all over, not just up and
down."

        She did her best, noting his reactions.  Finally she started to calm
down, realizing she was pleasing him again.  Another impressive leap, her mind
made--pleasing him was the most important thing.  Somewhere in her child's heart
she resolved to do nothing BUT please him.

        The sniffles were dying down, the tears were starting to ebb.  Her
Master gritted his teeth and leaned his head back, simultaneously reaching out a
hand to guide him back into her mouth.  He started moving his hips, too,
nudging his cock into her throat.  For a moment, she almost gagged, but managed
to overcome it when he stopped thrusting quite as deep.

        As far as she was concerned, he took just this side of forever, fucking
her mouth like that, but she found she couldn't complain.  One look at him and
it was obvious he was enjoying it--and that's what counted.

        Lightly he pushed her face off of his dick, the head popping out of her
lips just audibly.  Smiling again, and panting rather hard, he murmured, "Last
test, baby...  Take--take my dick again, and point it at your face--yes, just
like that.  Now pump again--hard.  Grip it--grip it tighter... Yeeessss, like
that.  Almost..."

        She pumped for all she was worth, staring up into his face.  After mere
moments, his eyes almost rolled back into his head and his cock throbbed quickly
in her hands.  Thick jets of milky fluid shot out, hitting her in the eye, on
the mouth, the cheek, even some in her hair.  It dribbled slowly down, joined by
more spurts of cum.

        By the time his orgasm faded, her face, neck, and chest were adorned in
his cum, but she made no move to do anything about it.  She promised herself she
would be a good girl for her Master, doing only--ONLY--what he said.

        "Keep--keep pumping, my little--little slut...  Not so--so hard,
though...  Yeah, like--like that...  Slower..."  He slouched a little, watching
through slitted, glazed eyes as a few droplets of cum escaped and dripped onto
her arm.

        Lifting a hand, he gasped out, "Oka--okay, stop--stop..."

        Still keeping her eyes on his face, his pet toy dropped her arms,
staying on her knees and staring up at him.  He just sat on his heels, smiling
slack-jawed at her and still breathing rather heavily.  Her eyes almost
glistened, the anticipation tempered, if a little, by how obvious it was that he
enjoyed her.

        "That..." he rasped out, motioning vaguely to her face, "...that means
that you were very, VERY pleasing, baby doll.  That means you love me, and I
love you."

	Her asshole still hurt like HELL, and her pussy was no better, but she
found herself smiling.  The last tears rolled down her cheeks and mixed with
his cum, her eyes now glistening from her cemented devotion to her Master.

        "Now, usually you should leave it, never wipe it off," was told to her
as he shifts to lay down and prop his head up on his fist.  "But right now, you
should take a little and taste it.  Leave it on your face; take it from your
tits--your chest.  And next time--and remember this, so I don't have to tell
you again--you need to swallow all of it.  Sometimes you'll wear it like a
badge, and sometimes you'll swallow it, and sometimes it'll be in your pussy or
ass."

        Almost eagerly, she took a dollop from her chest, resting it on her
middle and index fingers, and brought it to her lips.  Without hesitation, she
sucked his cum off, keeping her eyes on him.  "Salty, Master," she said, more
conversationally than anything else.

        "Good little sluts need to feel it on them and in them constantly.  Can
you remember that?"

        "Yes, Master."

        "Such a good slut.  Come here."

        He reached his arm out for her, and she squealed again, this time in
happiness.  She was cuddled in his arms, and she found herself whispering, "I
love you, Master..." almost dreamily.


                               TWO YEARS LATER...


        A bright, sunny afternoon.  The Master returned from a trip, dragging
the dinghy up the sand.  His boat is off-shore, anchored in safe water.  As he
nears his cottage, his fifteen-year-old toy bursts out, running to him.

        "MASTER!" she screamed, giggling and leaping into his arms.  "You were
gone since morning, Master!"  He kissed her deeply, though barely managed it
through laughing in delight.

        "You're right, my cute little cunt," he said through a beaming grin.  "I
was.  But I had to, and you well know it."

        Still grinning from ear to ear, she looped both of her arms around one
of his, walking with him back to his home.  Piss suddenly runs down her legs,
though neither of them notice.  She'd been un-potty trained.  She no longer had
any control over her bladder, and pissed at the slightest urge.  After her
Master gave her her nightly fuck, she slept on the floor in some palm fronds.
When she wakes herself up, she knows to--very quietly--go gather more.

        She had been thoroughly psychologically conditioned.  Her place was at
his feet, as his fuck-toy, and she didn't want anything else.  She knew to wake
him at dawn with any of her holes working his cock, and she had not let him down
yet.

        When they got to the cottage, he stopped and waited for her to stop
pissing, then they continued inside.  Once in, she let him go and nearly danced
around the small room.  In a sing-song voice, she said, "Ohhh Mas-ter...  Guess
Wha-at..."

        Her jubilance was catchy, it really was.  He couldn't stop grinning as
he watched his bronzed little slut dance around.  He'd trained her in how to
move, to accentuate her body, and she took to it well.  He enjoyed watching her
move as he discarded the shorts and shirt.

        Still grinning, and still in the sing-song voice, she answered, "My
blee-eeding... it hasn't star-ted..."  He realized that she was past-due.
Usually her monthly bleeds started by now.  This morning would have been the
latest, but apparently it never started.  "I'm going to have your baby, Master!"
she cried out, jumping up and down.

        He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, reaching behind her and
fondling her asshole.  By now it was literally instinct--her legs parted and her
sphincter loosened.  Her asshole was special, and it was very well-trained.

        "Your slut finally is good enough for your baby!" she continued, while
her Master just grinned.  "I hope it's a girl!  Yes!  I could train her, myself.
I bet she could take your cock in a month!  A week!  Oh, Master!  I hope it's a
girl.  She'd be the best little pussy you ever had!"

        He playfully slapped her ass and laughed, then said, "We'll see, toy.
We'll see."  A beat's pause as he pondered, and she recognized that look in his
eye.  Her favorite look of all--it meant he was going to please himself with
her.  Ever since her first orgasm at around fourteen (she no longer had
birthdays, so it's a guess) and was taught that she was finally worthy to feel
good, as her orgasm meant she was becoming a good little fuck toy, she looked
forward to her Master using her to please himself.  At first, she orgasmed a
little over half the time, from sheer pleasure at pleasing him as much as the
sexual stimulation.

        Though, she never wanted for that, either.  He kept her juices running,
kept her wanting, ready, and waiting.  That let him condition her to only orgasm
on command, with the added benefit of the command inducing orgasm no matter what
she was doing.

        She eyed his hardening cock and knew he was about to pick how he wanted
her to please him.  Finally, her Master decided.  "Ankles," is all he said, and
in the blink of and eye, she turned around and bends at the waist, grabbing her
ankles.  Without any waiting, he plunged his cock into her asshole, though as
well-abused as it was, it barely offered any resistance.  Even if it hurt, she
would never show it.  Sluts owe their Masters pain, so they can prove their
love.

        After quite a few deep thrusts, he grunted and pulled out just as
suddenly as he thrust into her.  He said--nothing, actually.  His cunt knew
better than to need direction.  Again without the slightest hesitation, she
almost twirled around and got onto her knees.  Her hands on her thighs, she
eagerly swallowed his cock, moaning as she did to give her Master more
stimulation.

        Her tongue bathed the head, and she tasted her ass on his shaft--a taste
she had come to enjoy.  Everything he did to her, every single thing she
experienced at his hands, she knew to love and embrace.

        She could feel his cock start to pulsate, so she looked up at him,
silently asking the question.  His response was equally silent--a single, small
shake of the head, but that's all she needed.  She gulped his cock, burrowing it
into her throat and massaging the head with swallowing motions before returning
to bobbing along it and tongue-bathing it.

        He suddenly choked off a gasp, and she bobbed her head even faster.
Each precious spurt of his cum was swallowed--not a drop was wasted.  Eyes
closed, she continued to suckle his cock, hungry for the very last drops her
talented mouth could wring from his shaft.

        "Enough, cunt," he gasped, and she obediently let his cock slide from
her lips, though there was a hint of lament in her eyes.  He saw it, but forgave
it; how could he not, when it was from her genuine desire to please him?

        Over the next nine months, he took up woodcarving, spending some time
every evening by the fire in front of the cottage, working on this or that piece
of drift wood.  Pieces were shaped and measured by hand, sanded by hand,
lacquered by hand.

        His fuck toy's belly grew and her tits enlarged; both things she
squealed about in jubilation.  Almost every moment that wasn't spent servicing
her Master was spent with her rubbing her belly, murmuring to it.  For the last
trimester, he kept her off her feet, back to using the bed pan and such.  She
actually didn't want to, at first, saying that it wasn't right for him to wait
on her; she was supposed to wait on HIM.  He always countered with the fact that
she was carrying his child made it necessary.  That usually placated her.
Usually.

        When the time finally came for her to deliver, they both were ready.
She had carefully memorized everything he told her, and he gathered the towels,
blades, so on and so on.

        The delivery itself went fine; he carried her and the duffel bag of
related items to the fresh water pools a few hundred yards away.  There she went
into labor, and--long story short--a bouncing baby girl was eased into the
water, quickly brought up and wiped.  The child was given to his slut, and he
dealt with the umbilical cord, afterbirth, all that.

        As the baby laid between her tits and her Master dealt with cleaning
things up, she started fingering her daughter's pussy.  "So small..." she mused
aloud, smiling.

        The Master looked over and chuckled, turning back to the task at hand.
When he was done, he came over to her, saying, "Finally ready to feed the tiny
fuck toy."

        His slut reached out with her free hand, grasping his cock and stroking
it to erection.  "Mmm," she murmured, watching her child, "she's going to be so
lucky.  She'll never feel as unloved as I was before you saved me.  She'll know
her Master loves her--and her earlies memories will be of it."

        At the nod from her Master, his slut's hand began moving very rapidly
and his cock was brought to his daughter's lips.  She began nursing immediately,
suckling on his cock-head.  Emitting something like a choked sob, he orgasmed,
delivering to his daughter her much-needed cum.  She wouldn't swallow all of it;
quite a bit ran down her chin from overflow or was spit back up.

        "Help her..." he managed to wheeze, and his slut rested the child so she
could keep on hand on his cock to let the other be free.  Drops of slimy cum
were gathered and pushed into the baby's mouth, the mother smiling happily as
the baby suckled.

        "A natural," she observed, beaming.  Once there was no more cum for the
baby, the Master nodded, signaling to his slut that it was time for breast
feeding.  As the baby fed, her mother squirmed, orgasm being teased onward by
the suckling.  "...a NATURAL..." she hissed out, then forces her eyes to open.

        "Master--pl-please..."

        He chuckled, then said "Alright, since you did so well.  'Come for
me...'"

        The cunt's screams filled the island, and her Master actually had to
hold the baby against the tit.  He couldn't complain, though; he was actually
grinning.  He really did love what his little fuck toy had become.

        Naturally, they didn't bother naming the child.  She was her Master's
fuck toy.  She would be called that, or cunt, or slut--no different than her
mother.  After a few hours' rest, the slut felt well enough to make the trek
back to her Master's cottage.  In the meantime, the Master fashioned cloth
diapers for the baby's mother to use with her.

        When they got to the cabin, the Master brought out one of the things
he'd carved--a wooden box, a touch larger than a shoebox.  "I'm trusting you,"
he tells his little cunt as he brings the box over to the bed where she
reclines.  "You'll need to keep up with these often."

        "Master, I promise you can trust me."  She knew what he wanted her to
do, and she couldn't be more proud, more hopeful.  She wanted to start right
away--and it looked like he was going to.

        Sitting on the bed, he grinned as he noticed she could barely contain
herself.  She scooted forward, cradling the child.  A chuckle escaped his lips
as he opened the box.  Inside were dildoes of various sizes, all degrees of
tiny.  Half were miniature butt-plugs, and half were vaginal.  All had tiny
cords attached to them.

        Turning to face her fully, he grinned widely and said, "Would you care
to do the first one?"  Her eyes welled with tears, being surprised at the honor.
All she could do was nod.  He tilted the box toward her, and she picked out the
first butt plug that would be used.  Eventually her holes will be stretched to
let her father use them.

        The baby was repositioned, her tiny, chubby legs pulled up and propped
against her tit.  The diaper was removed, and the plug ungraciously inserted to
the hilt.  The baby cried a little, but it went ignored; her Master knew she'd
calm down once she got used to it.  Besides, a girl does need to be trained and
endure pain for her Master.  This lesson can never be learned too early.

        After making sure the tiny plug was as far as it will go, the cords were
lightly tied around the baby's waist, to make sure it stayed in.  Her mother
would have to check on her constantly to clean up any messes and make sure the
plugs were still firmly implanted, but she was so happy she didn't think of it
as a burden in the slightest.

        Bringing the crying baby to her face, she cooed, "Now your wonderful
Master will plug your tiny pussy, so you can show him how much you love him.
Yess.  Isn't that wonderful?  Pretty little pussy.  Pretty little pussy."  She
fingered the tiny clitoris until the child calms down, then spread the baby's
legs.

        Their Master selected the first vaginal plug, and slipped it in as deep
as it would go.  This caused another round of cries from the baby, though the
Master ignored these, too, as he fastened the cords around the baby's waist.


                          ANOTHER TWO YEARS LATER...


        The two-year-old was held by her mother.  The little girl had had her
ass and cunt stretched.  Couldn't quite take her father's full five inches, not
yet, but soon.  As it was, the girl was moved along her father's cock, a good
inch to two inches disappearing into that tight little ass and pussy.  Deep into
the ass, then off and she was plunged onto him by the cunt.  Back and forth, her
mother maneuvered her, the child wriggling only slightly.  The main difference
between this and the plugs was the movement, really, and she was past feeling
much pain.

        And by then she'd learned to play with her father's cock on her own, so
when she was finally taken off and sat between his thighs, she grabbed his cock
and pumped it through those last moments until orgasm.  It'd become almost a
game, she squealed as the cum shot out and soaked the front of her.  She knew by
then to not wipe it off, so once her father's cock stopped spouting, she nestled
into her mother to suckle.

        On the previous year's weekend-long trip, the Master stocked up on
certain fertility drugs.  The ones to help the actual process of fertility were
set aside for later.  The baby's mother got the prolactin, which would keep her
producing milk.  The Master strictly regulated it, keeping the risk of
anovulation at bay.

        The mother welcomed the child into her arms, offering up a breast for
the babe.  That her tits were continuously swollen, sore, and overly-sensitive to
stimulation was a small price to pay for what she was fortunate enough to do.
Picking the child up into her arms, she got up and headed into the common area,
cooing to the child.

        The child suddenly let loose a stream of piss, which hit her mother in
her other breast and rolls down her body.  Neither paid any mind.  It's to be
expected and encouraged, after all.  When the child was done pissing on her
mother, the young woman retrieved a towel and wiped the girl's pussy and asshole
thoroughly.

        Retrieving the newest plugs from where they were drying in the makeshift
sink, her mother firmly pushed them up into her.  This was the next size up; a
good stretching by her father's cock usually made her ready for the "graduation"
to the next sizes.  The girl squeaked in discomfort, but automatically spread
her legs.  She was well used to the exchange by now.  She even moved her arms so
the cords could be fastened.

        "That's a good little cute pussy," cooed the mother, rubbing the little
nub of a clitoris.  That calmed the daughter down from the pain of the new plugs
and made her settle.  When the child was done nursing, her mother settled down
lengthwise on the couch, setting the child between her legs.  She was already
becoming a good cunt-licker, but the child could always use more training.

        The younger slut insinctively started suckling on her mother's clitoris,
causing the young woman to start groaning and writhing.  She pressed her daughter's
head into her crotch, hips bucking.  A low, undulating moan escaped her throat
as she humped her baby daughter's face, trying to remember to coo at her and
urge her onward.

        The Master watched from the kitchen, smiling to himself.  The young woman's
glazed eyes silently pleaded with him, though that plea went ignored at first.
Just when the young woman thought she couldn't take any more, he murmured, "Come for
me..." and her body seized up in an explosive orgasm.  To her credit, the little
girl never let go, even trying to drink her mother's cum as if it were milk.


                               ONE YEAR LATER...


        One of the few celebrations in the girl's life--she was successfully
potty trained to shit in the little outhouse a ways away from the cottage like
the adults.  No more diaper and constant check-ups of the hole-expanding plugs.
Plus the girl was old enough to insert them herself; her mother had to often
stifle laughter at the cute displays.  The child would set the dildoes on their
end on the floor, and lower herself onto them.  She still needed help tying
tying the cords, but she was proud for being able to get them in by herself.

        This event also marked the last expansion--her holes were just widened
enough for her father, so he made use of them.  As her mother had taught her,
she took her father first in her cunt, grinding down as far as her tiny form
physically allowed, then plunged her asshole onto the shaft when directed.  One
area she positively excelled in was orally pleasing the Master.  She was, at
such an age, almost as talented as her mother.  Almost.

        The night of the celebration, both sluts were used simultaneously.  Two
sets of tongues and lips worked over that shaft, then her mother laid back with
her legs spread and laid her daughter atop her, so both bald pussies and
assholes were his for the taking.

        When he'd had his fill of that, he had his daughter suckle on her
mother's pussy as he pounded the little ass.  He came on the child and mother at
the same time as he allowed the young woman her own release.

        By the time it was all said and done, the little girl was so tuckered
out she fell asleep in her own mother's cunt.  The Master chuckled as he
inserted the dildoes and strapped them to her.

        Later that night, as the mother was shaving (strict rule--no hair on a
slut below the eyebrows), the Master came up behind her.

        "Do you realize what today is, cunt?" he whispered into her ear.

        "No, Master...?"  The slut was almost afraid.  Had she forgotten
something?  The child was on her biggest dildoes; herself, she'd been dutiful in
taking her prolactin...  Nothing was coming to mind.

        "You're three days late..." he murmured, grinning.  After a moment it
"clicked" and the young woman squealed and turned, to hug her Master tightly.


                       NINE MONTHS LATER AND THEN SOME...


        A bouncing baby boy, the apple in his father's eye.  The boy's mother
was, of course, temporarily taken off of the prolactin for the birth, and as
soon as he could crawl he was off exploring everywhere.  His mother dutifully
let him explore every inch of her, something he seemed to never tire of.  When
the beach stopped piquing his interest, when watching the goats on the other
side of the island stopped being entertaining, touching and poking and exploring
his mother never grew old.  His sister learned to accept this, also, dutifully
going limp and letting him spread her legs, play with the dildoes, and so on.

        As the boy grew, the two sluts both suckled the boy's little penis,
sometimes taking turns, sometimes simultaneously.  When he started getting
tiny erections, he was encouraged to practice fucking his sister and mother,
though especially for the latter, that was all it really was.  He did seem to
enjoy trying with his sister, so he was allowed--as a matter of course--to try
with her whenever he wanted.

        When the boy celebrated his sixth birthday, the Master pondered.  One
time he was gone for almost three days.  The eldest slut was, sort of, in
charge, though she was not comfortable at all in the position.  Her role was to
please--to follow, not lead--a male.

        When he returned, it was with a little girl.  She had apparently only
recently stopped crying.  Eyes were red and puffy, sniffles, et cetera.  She
looked to be a year or so younger than his son, the Young Master.  He half-
dragged the little girl up to the cottage by her hand, taking her to the eldest
cunt.  Naturally, the little girl was stripped naked long before coming to the
island.

        Grinning, he said, "Think you can train this one?  She needs strict
handling..."

        The slut took the child's hand, nodding.  "Yes, Master!  Thank you!  I
won't let you down."

        The Master squeezed the slut's swollen tit, making milk leak out.  "I
know you won't," he said sincerely.  "She's going to be my son's personal toy.
Make sure she is trained appropriately."

        Nodding confidently, the eldest slut dragged the girl to the bed where
the Young Master lay.  He was in the habit of playing actively in the mornings
and afternoons, relaxing with the cunts in the evenings and nights.

        "Young Master?" said the woman, and the boy looked up.  His sister was
suckling on his cock and balls, and doing it quite well.  "Master said this
was to be your toy."

        The boy pushed his sister away and got up, looking at the girl from all
angles.  He pulled her ass cheeks apart, making the girl jump and pull away.
Swiftly the eldest slut smacked her across the face.  "Cunts do not pull away,"
she said firmly, staring the child in the eyes.

        The girl's eyes filled with tears.  "But-but-but he a boy..."

        "Yes.  That means he can do whatever he wants."

        The boy poked around the girl's ass again, and once more she started to
pull away, only to have the eldest cunt slap her again.  "No!  Bad cunt."

        It soon became clear that it was too instinctive for the girl to jerk
away, so there was only one thing to do.  While the Young Master watched, the
eldest cunt tied the girl spread-eagle on the bed, using the same chains she
herself wore so very long ago.  And a similar gag was used, to stifle the
girl's cries.

        The boy poked and prodded to his heart's content.  He knelt between her
spread thighs and pushed his cock into her, noting immediately how different
it felt.  Tighter than his sister, definitely.  When he wasn't using her--which
was inoften; he really, really loved using his toy--the slut had her pussy
suckled by the other sluts.

        It took almost a month for the cries to stop.  A week after that the
gag was removed.  She was silent, almost completely, from that moment onward.
She learned her role more easily, and only had to be disciplined twice.  Once
she didn't get between the younger slut's legs fast enough, so the Young Master
belted her, and the second time she refused to relax her asshole so the Young
Master could take her there, and the elder cunt smacked her for it.

        The only time she ever made a sound was when the Young Master lent his
father the new toy.  He wanted to see how well she was learning to use her
tongue on a cock, so had the girl try on him.  Before he could cum, he had her
stop, then he turned her around.  Without waiting, he thrust into her ass.  That
high-pitched squeal was the last sound she ever made, though no one thought that
was really a bad thing.

        It was, surprisingly, two months to the day that the newest slut was
brought home that the the Young Master's sister started showing a notable bulge
in her stomach.  They waited and it grew, so they held another celebration.  The
fertility drugs the younger--now middle, really--slut was taking had finally
worked.

        Plans were made immediately--such a young girl (though not as young as
was aimed for; well, hopefully next time) giving birth meant special
preparations.  The pregnancy would be handled as per usual--the slut expected
to take care of her duties until later in the pregnancy, and even then she could
lay there for her Masters.

        The birth itself was long and arduous, but a bright baby girl was
brought into the world.  The Master had already shown the Young Master how to
carve and finish the set of hole-stretching dildoes, so they were ready to go.


                               ONE YEAR LATER...


        The city.  Didn't matter which one.  The Master didn't much like any of
them, but what choice was there?  New blood needed to be brought into the
family, and a part of him enjoyed this sort of hunt.  Though after they were
properly trained is when he liked them best, the initial hunt had a certain
appeal.

        Money wasn't an issue for now; one of his sluts gave birth to a baby
girl, who was sold on the black market for a little over two hundred thousand
dollars.  That was enough to fund the hunt.  Staying in cheap motel at first,
doing a little reconnaissance, setting up the tools he'd need.

        Eventually he ended up as a tenant in a low-income apartment complex,
under an assumed name and little touches here and there to disguise himelf.
Most of it would be in acting, anyway.  Nothing would, in any conceivable way,
lead back to his island.

        One Wednesday evening, he was in the complex's laundry room, fiddling
with the drier.  A part of him found it humorous to do such tasks; there were
more than enough cunts to deal with such things for him.  As he was jimmying the
heat setting, a young girl walked in.

        She froze in the doorway, dragging a trashbag of laundry behind her.  He
looked at her, smiling, and introduced himself, then said, "I just moved in the
other day, and can't figure out how to work this thing.  Think you can give me a
hand?"

        The girl was all of ten years old, but still had that innocence of youth
about her.  She was so very, very trusting.  Just what the Master wanted.

        "Sure," said the girl, dragging her trash bag behind her.  Her mother
worked two jobs and still couldn't afford a sitter, so the girl had to help
take care of a five-year-old.  The first girl was a product of a marriage gone
bad, and the second a product of rape.  Purportedly the mother was trying to be
a "good mother" and raise them both by herself.  Also just what the Master
wanted.

        The girl came over and fiddled with the dial, then pushed it upward
before turning it.  "It sticks a lot," she said as the Master crouched beside
her.  "You got'a mess with it a little, s'all."

        "Can you show me again?" he asked, leaning his weight a bit closer, so
their shoulders almost touched.  The girl didn't seem to react.

        "Sure.  See, got'a first kind'a move it past the 'off' setting like
this, then push up like this, then you can move it."  As she reached up to
demonstrate, he reached up as well, so his hand was lightly on hers, as if to
figure it out.

        "Thank you," he told her, smiling as he stood back up.  "Least I can do
since you helped me is help you in return."  With that, he retrieved her trash
bag and picked it up, heading to the row of washing machines.


                             THREE MONTHS LATER...


        Her mother knew she made a friend in the apartment, but never really had
the time to think about it--the girl was happy enough, so there didn't seem to
be a reason to question further.  She started spending afternoons in his
apartment, with him tending to the younger sister while she tided up, or made a
meal.

        Originally she was going to do her homework, but he quickly coerced her
into thinking about her female duties.  These include taking care of her sister,
so he showed her how to calm the girl down when she was to take a nap.  He would
rub the little girl's slit, showing her older sister how to do it, and soon
enough she could do it perfectly.

        This led into wearing fewer and fewer clothes, until both girls became
quite comfortable naked.  Seeing him just after a shower made them both giggle
in a bit of embarassment, but it worked to make them comfortable.  He'd
carefully engineered a crush, so she would want to think of him as her
boyfriend.  This and certain conversations about sex led to the night she gave
herself and her sister to him.

        To test and make sure the girl understood they were both his, both
needing that love of a "boyfriend", he had her tie her younger sister to the bed
after carefully explaining everything that was going to happen--how he was going
to fuck both of them, and how it would hurt.  He then had her gag her sister,
before he tied and gagged her, also.

        That night he fucked both of them, taking exquisite pleasure in their
muffled squeals as each pussy and each ass was plunged into.  The next morning,
they were long gone before the sun rose.  He took what few, meager possessions
of his own he wanted, and the girls left everything behind.  That evening they
were home on his island.

        The homecoming was sweet, really.  He was almost tackled by his girls,
smothering his face and cock with kisses.  Some were even in tears, after having
not seen him for so long.  Introductions were made, the sisters separated for
the time being, so they could each receive their training.  They were swiftly
taught how to be good little sluts, and joined the ranks of the others.

        They never thought of individual names or personal desires again.  When
the newest rescue was old enough, she was sat down and told to write, with the
Master dictating this very missive.

 

                                        THE END




                             POST SCRIPT: TWO WEEKS LATER...


        One mid-morning, the younger Master had spied a boat on the horizon.
This was rather odd, since they were too out-of-the-way for pretty much
everything.  That's part of what made the island--centuries ago a joke of a
property--so valuable now.

        The elder Master was called to the beach, and when the ship got closer
they saw two people on board--a man and a very young, obviously naked, girl.
She couldn't have been more than five or six years old, but had a submissive
demeanor about her.

        The ship was anchored offshore a good ways, a dinghy lowered into the
water.  The man steered, sitting at the back by the engine.  When they got close
enough, he addressed the Master by name and introduced himself, then asked for
permission to come on land.

        A few of his girls were sent to help drag in the boat, and the man
introduced himself again, this time adding, "I represent a certain order, my
good man.  We think you would be definitely interested in us.  If I may have
just a little of your time..."

