Salvation Ch. 11 Amy Jennings

Greta Foulds fell in love with Amy the moment she set eyes on her and she
just knew that she had to spend some time alone with her. Greta had
developed a real passion for abusing and punishing little girls in her
position as governess and Amy Jennings was now about to find out just how
much.

She had mentioned this to Alice a while ago, but it wasn’t until now that
Alice decided the time was right. Still angry that Amy had interrupted
her much-needed orgasm, she arranged for Miss Foulds to spend the
afternoon with the girl in one of the private dungeons, prior to Betty
bringing her to the special punishment room later that evening.

Apart from Amy being at that awkward age, the time when her body was
growing so quickly she was always fumbling and tripping over things, she
had a look of real cuteness about her and that excited Greta’s passions.

She had waited, dreaming of the child. She had visited St Saviour’s and
watched her, asking the staff about her so she became more than just a
faceless victim, like so many of the children there. No, Amy Jennings was
different. She had come to St Saviours orphanage through its association
with the Navy after her parents died in a boating accident two years ago,
when she was just 8 years old.

Greta smiled at the girl whenever they met or passed each other. She
stroked her hair and complemented her on how fine and silken it was,
growing excited when the child blushed. Weeks after meeting her, she told
the girl to lift her kilt and watched excitedly as the little girl
obeyed, such a pretty little blush on her cute face as she did so, the
training she’d received preparing her perfectly for her new mistress’s
demands.

Such meekness and obedience brought out the dominant streak in Greta and
she had to inhale and control herself against ordering the girl to be
tied down then and there and spread for her pleasure, her little cunt
held apart by the tendons of her slender thighs and her little nipples
brought hard by the rough and repeated handling of her mistresses
fingers.

Greta had waited, but the waiting was worthwhile because, as she entered
one of the private dungeons Amy Jennings was waiting for her, struggling
not to cry as she stood in front of the woman she’d had been told to call
Mistress. All around them the screams of other children who had been
brought there to pleasure their sadistic masters and mistresses, echoed
throughout the dungeons.

Matron had brought Amy to the dungeon, drugged with her skin already
sensitised by rough massage, though this wasn’t immediately noticeable to
Greta as Amy was wearing her uniform.

Amy knew what mistresses did; they hurt you before giving you pleasure.
Miss Marchant did that, making her friends weep and sob, then making them
scream with delight so they adored her afterwards, willing to go through
the pain time and time again, if only for the overwhelming pleasure she
gave them afterwards.

Miss Foulds had waited for this unique opportunity and nothing was going
to stop from enjoying herself now. Looking around the small dungeon she
was pleased to see that all the equipment she had requested was in place.

Greta approached Amy with a smile, stroking her tear stained face and
making her turn with her back to her. Slowly, but with conviction Greta
lifted the child’s kilt to stare at her pretty bottom and thighs, before
turning her around again to gaze for a few long moments at the child’s
delicious little cunt.

“You are a very pretty little girl,” Greta told her.

“Thank you Miss,” Amy replied, her blushes betraying her nervousness.

Greta was on fire; her cunt was starting to moisten as she stared at the
child’s delicious little body, safe in the knowledge that whatever she
did, nobody would interrupt her.

“Are you ready to please your mistress?” Greta asked.

“Yes Miss,” Amy replied without hesitation.

Looking directly into Amy’s large dark eyes, she released her kilt and
led her to the couch that was placed for the adult’s comfort.

“Take your uniform off, NOW!” Greta shouted.

Amy obeyed without hesitation and in a matter of seconds her sailor
uniform was discarded and Greta was able to see just how pretty Amy was
by the light of the braziers.

“We feed you, we clothe you, we keep you warm and safe. The least you can
do is obey us in return!” Matron had often told them, often when leading
them to the whipping horse, sitting them astride it and then selecting
one of the punishment instruments hanging on the wall.

Amy had a strange fascination for watching other children being whipped,
whether it was a girl or a boy. Their punished bottoms were often enough
to catch her eye and wondered if it was the same for all of them, but
watching them struggle when the whip fell, the lines rise and brighten;
there was the real fascination.

Undressed, Amy took the usual step forward, her thighs parted enough so
the eye could slide between them and gauge the breadth of her cunt. In
her case it was quite broad, lips rounded and full towards the front.
Doctor Stevens had always complemented that she had a pretty little cunt.

He had spread her with his fingers and licked her, nodding his head then,
as if the taste of her had said something to him. His fingers had gone
everywhere and the memory of them still brought a tingle to her flesh.

She liked Dr Stevens, although some had come back from him crying and
telling of terrible devices that had been pushed into them, or attached
that had brought aches and cramps. New children often cried when first
going there, but like her, they grew used to the attention he always gave
to their privates.

“Over my knee,” Greta demanded.

Amy was familiar with the position. She had been spanked many times and
knowing what was to come, she meekly obeyed, unaware of how exciting she
looked, sliding her pale naked body over the thick cotton of her
mistresses skirts. Greta felt excitement like a rush of opium, sweeping
through her.

Her hands slid over Amy’s small and slender waist and came to lie on her
sweet young bottom, nicely round and firm, so much more alluring when it
was presented to her to spank in private.

Her heart thudding with pleasure, Greta began to spank the girl, spanking
her cruelly in her eagerness to hear the young child scream. Soon Amy was
writhing, screaming and kicking her legs wide apart after each slap, her
lily-white bottom taking on a whole new glow and parting erotically.

Greta’s hand grew sore and she stopped. She drew Amy erect and smiled
into her tear-wet face, crooning lovingly to the poor girl while she
rubbed and pinched her sore bottom. Comforting Amy gave Greta the chance
to stroke her smooth young skin, to feel her little curves, her budding
breasts, her smoothly shaven pubis and her seductive anal crease.

“Can I go now please Miss,” Amy asked hopefully.

“Oh dear no!” Greta gasped.

“It was very rude of you to interrupt Miss Marchant,” Greta told her
standing up so she could pull the child towards the whipping horse, the
stout frame ready to hold her tight for a cruel punishment, the type of
punishment Greta Foulds had always dreamt about administering. Amy began
to cry and struggled, not quite stopping herself from being pulled
towards the horse, but she did try to resist.

Greta loved the sheer nerve of the girl and forced her stand at the side
of the horse ready to mount. Soon her widely parted bottom would be well
presented for the martinet, the instrument she planned to use on Amy’s
already sensitive skin.

The punishment tools were arranged on the wall, all sorts of instruments
made of leather, wood and bamboo, to open her, mark and hurt her. The
sheer choice took Greta’s breath from her. Each one brought dark and
wonderful new visions in her mind, things she’d never considered
possible, now available for her exclusive entertainment.

“If you want me to go easy on you, then you will masturbate for me before
your whipping,” Greta breathed.

Still weeping, Amy shuffled her thighs apart and pushed her hand under
herself, her little nail bitten fingers curving to push into her puffy
cunt and work the fleshy folds back and forth the way she sometimes did
when no one was watching.

“Oh yes,” Greta gasped, a new rush of excitement sweeping over her.

“Go on, push those fingers in further,” she panted, breathless with
desire.

Amy did as she was told, anything to ward off the whip that her mistress
had taken down from the wall. She winced as she scored her tender flesh,
pushing a finger inwards before she’d moistened enough.

“Place your thighs further apart!” Greta screamed.

Amy flexed her legs and whimpered as her thigh muscles complained. She
panted with the effort of trying to do both things at the same time,
whimpering with the threat of a whipping hanging over her. Struggling,
Amy lost her balance and ended up in a heap on the floor.

“You just don’t listen, do you?” Greta said, calming herself, pushing
down the heat in her loins and denying it the release it craved.

“Now mount the horse!” Greta shouted.

Helping Amy to mount the horse, Greta left her wrists unattached so she
could continue to masturbate and placed her feet in the stirrups.

Satisfied that the child was suitably mounted, Greta walked around the
little rider, enjoying the view now presented between Amy’s widely parted
bottom and hardly listening to herself, took a firmer grip on the leather
martinet whip she had selected.

“Masturbate yourself!” Greta shouted.

Sweeping the martinet down in a long arc that was brought up short by the
impact on Amy’s pert little bottom, Greta inhaled as the child wailed,
her eyes bright as she squirmed on the horse, fingers unknowingly
flattened to frantically rub her little pink cunt, flattening her rounded
vulva as she fought to minimize the soaring pain sweeping through her
bottom.

Licking her dry lips, Greta swung the whip again, listening and watching
the girl scream and cry, jerk and squirm, she swung it again, and then
again. After every sharp landing, she admired the new bright lines it had
made, and how much brighter the flesh was where the lines crossed, and
how urgently Amy was rubbing herself, even as she cried and sobbed and
squirmed in pain.

“Like it, don’t you?” she asked breathlessly, spitefully aiming to cross
as many previous whip marks as possible to then feel the surge of
pleasure as the child bounced on the horse, squealing and rubbing herself
madly as she tried absorbing the lancing pain.

“Yes, you’re loving it,” Greta murmured, her corset now hurting her as
she tried to breathe past its constraint.

“Obviously you need something harder,” she said, her hand shaking as she
drew down the studded paddle and admired the craftsmanship of it.

No larger than her hand, the supple leather had been riveted with little
metal spikes, none looking exceptionally wicked in themselves, but as a
whole, a tool that was going to land with some force against flesh
already made tender, it would bite in, score and mark. It would be
deliciously painful.

Amy looked particularly lovely, looking back over her shoulder to stare
at the punishment tool that had been selected for her. Her expression
told Greta she knew what the innocuous little paddle could do to her, how
the supple leather could even be brought up between her legs, scoring her
thighs or even her full lipped cunt.

With a feral grin, Greta raised the paddle and swung it down to land
painfully on one of her little bottom cheeks and the young girl squealed
and thrashed, tossing too and fro as the hot pain lanced deep into her
withers.

Before she’d had a chance to settle, the second one had landed,
distorting Amy’s little bottom and leaving puncture marks that swelled
with points of blood. Amy screamed through her tears and frantically
lifted herself in the stirrups. Her fingers pulled madly on the apex of
her smooth cleft, violently stimulating her clitoris in an effort to
escape the fire shooting deep into her bottom.

Greta stopped to stroke the child’s bottom, her breath shortening as she
felt the little indents left by the rivets and drew the blood into little
smears across the tight curve of the girl’s rear. She put down the paddle
and pulled Amy’s cheeks apart, sobbing with delight as she spread the
pink and tender flesh that protected her little anus and cunt.

Both little holes exposed, one quickly clenched and knotted in worry
while the other pouted and gleamed, burning hot when they were touched.

“So, you like it then?” Greta breathed. She was wetting herself with
excitement, shaking on her legs as she suffered one orgasm after another.

“No, no, no!” Amy screamed, thrashing about in an attempt to evade
whatever punishment her mistress had dreamt of next.

Greta found the restraints hanging from each of the wooden legs and took
the time to fasten and tighten them, her breath quickening as she used
them to pull Amy’s slender thighs wide apart.

She also took her time to stroke the crying girl’s little body,
delighting in the dampness of her skin, in the way it trembled and shook,
tensing the closer she got to stroking her privates.

“Please, I’ll be good, I promise,” Amy wept as her hand was drawn from
between her legs and fastened so her little body was pulled further over
the crown of the horse’s back. Greta hummed as she placed her face closer
to the child’s pretty cunt, inhaling her special fragrance and devouring
the pretty little folds with her eyes.

“You’ve been a very naughty little girl,” she whispered, her eyes and
fingers rising to her bottom again, drinking in the savage indented
holes, the coloured stripes and the small, slender cheeks.

There was only one way to teach girls like Amy Jennings, Greta reflected,
rising to stretch for the highest of the instruments hanging on the wall;
a willow rod some three feet long and only a quarter of an inch thick. It
would raise and cut the flesh of anyone’s bottom, scoring it for days to
come.

Yet Miss Foulds didn’t intend to use it on Amy’s bottom. Amy had shown
herself very capable of taking punishment on her bottom. No, Greta was
going to use it where the girl would feel it most, on her cunt.

Greta strode to the dungeon door, checked the bolt then turned and stared
at the weeping girl again, so beautifully presented astride the horse for
a whipping.

She fed on the sight as she undid her dress and climbed out of it. She
rapidly undid her corset as she thought of what she was about to do,
released from it, gripped her breasts and pulled on her nipples,
squeezing her legs together as fresh excitement spiralled inwards to the
core of her being.

“Right!” she gasped.

The willow branch in her hand, Greta measured it to land along the crease
of the child’s bottom and then bend downward to whip into her tender
clitoris. Greta grinned through her quick breaths. Amy shook her head and
wept, begging her mistress not to hurt her any more while tears dripped
freely from her face onto the stone floor.

“Please, please!” she wept, her voice rising as she felt the cold touch
of the slender rod against the crease of her bottom.

Greta waited until the child’s voice had risen to its peek of pleading,
then brought the slender rod downwards, making a keen whistle as it sped
through the air to whip along Amy’s anal crease. The resulting scream
thrilled Greta to her core.

She shook with her pleasure, drinking in the sight of the child thrashing
in her bonds, rocking to her screams and wailing as the one stroke sped
into her and filled her with its mighty flavour. There was the mark to
prove it, slightly off of the centre of her bottom crease, bisecting one
plump labia and lifting an angry welt that gleamed so perfectly.

Greta then approached the still screaming girl and knelt behind her,
lifting her face to lick the welt and croon into that soft flesh that had
accepted it. She put her fingers between her legs and spread the slippery
wetness seeping from her, anointing herself in her pleasure while licking
the sweet wetness of the child. The girl’s efforts to escape died and she
lay there, accepting the tongue into her crevice where she was sweetest,
her crying slowly ebbing.

“Just two more,” Greta murmured into Amy’s firm lipped cunt.

“Oh, please no, please Miss,” Amy, begged, her trembling and crying
returning as the dread of the next stroke seeped into her.
“Two more,” Greta vowed, rising and positioning herself, her sex gaping
between her legs as she held the rod out and tapped the crease of Amy’s
little bottom.

Amy began to squeal well before she was struck and her body was already
taut, fighting her bonds as the rod rose into the air. When it struck,
when it slid between her legs to mark her other labia, her voice reached
a new crescendo, echoing around the small dungeon.

Greta didn’t feel the pain of her knees striking the cold stone floor.
She was flooding into her hands, spilling her delight before her mouth
had reached Amy’s plump little sex. When it did, she felt the swollen
line the rod had created, she sobbed ecstatically yet again, her cunt
mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, searching for a cock
to fill it.

Once again Greta licked the new welt running so lovingly along Amy’s
labia. Her sex was swollen now, gleaming dully with beaten tenderness and
Greta’s tongue was urging the lips apart, spreading them so the child’s
cunt was revealed along with the rest of all her precious little sex.

Amy was panting, delirious with pain and pleasure.

“No, please don’t, please mistress,” mumbling tearfully, weeping
uncontrollably while swivelling her hips to the mix of pleasure and pain
that was diving deep into her body. The licking left her and she cried
louder, knowing what was to follow. The cold tip of the rod was oddly
pleasant, until she recalled what it meant, then her mumbled words fell
over each other in the torrent to get them out in time.

Greta’s strike was perfectly aimed, the rod slicing down between Amy’s
bottom cheeks, between her thighs, between her cunt. Her body tried to
bow. Her scream filled the dungeon. Pee spurt uncontrollably from her
bruised urethra and Greta stepped into its golden arc, crying out with
delight as the burning hot water slid down into her pubic hair, then her
crotch to be massaged into her cunt by her busy fingers.

Satisfied at last, she called for an assistant to take Amy to the
infirmary. She knew that Amy’s was to visit the special punishment room
later, but that was no concern that hers. Greta had enjoyed every moment.

Rebecca Bolton the matron was there to receive Amy Jennings when she
returned to the infirmary. No worse than any other child that returned
from the dungeon she set about preparing Amy for Betty to collect her.
More drugs and the massaging of special oils into her little body soon
had the child ready again.

As Alice entered the Special Punishment room, she was pleased to see that
Betty Parker was already there with a refreshed Amy Jennings weeping at
her feet, nude but for straps that circled her upper and lower arms, her
neck, forehead, waist and thighs.

The straps were ringed to allow restraint, a useful device if a long
whipping was necessary. The girl’s whimpering could have got on her
nerves, but Betty remained still, waiting obediently with an air of
excitement and nervousness.

Smiling at Amy, Alice walked around both girls, her eyes making Betty
Parker uncomfortable.

“You were remiss in not controlling this child, weren’t you?” Alice asked
softly. Betty swallowed, her body beginning to tremble.

“Yes Miss,” she murmured with a rising dread.

“Had I been with any patrons, you would have shamed this whole orphanage
and everyone in it,” Alice told her. Betty whimpered, her legs willing
her to slide down to her knees and beg Miss Marchant’s forgiveness.

“Perhaps I should punish both of you,” Alice suggested. It would be
pleasant to have the teenager as well as the child. It had been a while
since Alice had the opportunity to torture a pair of well-formed breasts,
to fill her hand and dig her nails into the firm tender flesh.

“Take off your uniform!” she spat.

Betty panted as she obeyed, her mind growing numb as she prepared herself
for her punishment. So far, she’d escaped any serious punishment and only
suffered the paddle, strap and tawse as men and women from other
orphanages had ensured her docility prior to abusing her. She’d had
suffered this willingly; because the pleasure the adults gave her
afterwards, more than made up for the pain.

Kicking her uniform away she hurriedly stood, automatically taking up the
pose she normally demanded of others, her back straight and her hands
behind her head while her thighs were planted well apart for ease of
examination.

And yet Alice didn’t touch her, but continued her slow pace around both
girls, one shaking with worry, the other still softly crying, begging for
forgiveness.

She admired without the need to touch, her eyes doing her caressing, the
force of her presence causing Betty’s little nipples to grow erect, her
skin begin to glow and her sex fill with moisture.

“Put the middle harness on,” Alice told her, her mind made up.

Licking her lips, Betty moved to where the three harnesses lay and picked
up the middle one, the one that had a four inch rubber cock sticking out
from the cod piece while, inside the harness, a thick but smaller cock
protruded inwards, ready to be pushed into her own cunt and stretch her
sex apart.

She stepped into it, aware that her Mistress was watching her and drew it
up her thighs to wriggle it into place, the thick smaller cock making her
breath catch as it spread her apart and filled her tight entrance.

Alice watched without expression, none the less feeling aroused by the
girl’s obvious difficulty in pushing the cock all the way into herself.
Betty panting with the effort, her legs weak as Alice grinned and took
hold of the rigid cock, wriggling it about, knowing what the reaction
would be to its young wearer.

Betty gasped, her face flooding with colour as her excitement soared.

“Fuck her!” Astrid breathed.

“Fuck her hard, because if you don’t I’ll whip your pretty bottom
whenever you ease off!” Alice whispered, lifting a crop to show Betty
what she’d get if she didn’t obey.

An innocuous looking couch waited for them; plush leather to lie on, with
many restraining straps artfully disguised in the corners. Each step
caused Betty uncontrollably pleasure, as she dragged little Amy over to
it and fastened her down, several times having to stop for breath as the
cock holding her cunt open threatened to bring her off.

When Miss Marchant sensed Betty was close to orgasm, she lashed out with
the crop, wielding it cruelly on the teenager’s bottom and thighs in
order to keep her sane.

At last, Betty pushed herself between Amy’s slender legs and pushed the
rubber cock downwards, fitting it to the child’s slit before bearing down
on it. Amy screamed, her little cunt was still painful from her afternoon
with Miss Foulds, and then a blinding hot pain lanced her, as the cock
stretched her cunt to its limit.

Standing over them, Alice breathed in, loving the look of anguish and
pain Amy was giving her, loving the sight of Betty’s bottom as she pushed
aggressively into the child’s cunt beneath her. The older girl’s pelvis
dropped to the crotch of the younger girl beneath her, burying the cock
inside the little girl, then she rose to thrust down once more.

Unhappy with the speed, Alice flicked the crop out next time Betty’s pale
little bottom rose and she grinned as it had its affect, forcing the girl
to screech and push downwards, quickening her panting pace while Amy wept
beneath her. She watched for a while longer, walking around the two
girls, and then went into the adjoining room.

Alice removed her dress, then her tightly fitting corset. For a moment
she stood and stretched, glad of the release from her confining clothes.
She inhaled and stroked her body, rubbing her waist before sliding her
hands up to capture her full breasts and pinching the already stiff
nipples. She was already wet between her legs, flowing with excitement
that was sustained by the sounds of weeping and Betty’s breathless
grunting that came from the punishment room next door.

There was a viewing port here, a slit large enough to easily see within
without the occupants knowing who it was who watched them, or what they
did. In front of it was a reclining seat to let the secret occupant sit
in comfort.

Alice first went to a shelf and took down one of several rubber phalluses
that stood there, each riveted tightly to a flat base. Taking it to the
chair, Alice positioned it, then settled herself upon it, sighing with
pleasure as its tip threatened to enter her womb. Rocking forward
increased the threat and pressed the base to her clitoris. Leaning back
was a relief that almost immediately had her pushing forward again,
tempting her with total impalement.

To one side of her was the viewing port into the other room where Betty
panted and continued to push her pelvis up and down between Amy’s
trembling thighs.

“Enough!” she called, rocking back and forth, watching Betty rise and Amy
reach between her thighs to cup her swollen sex, nursing it with her
fingers while she continued to weep.

“Queen her!” Alice called.

Betty pulled the harness from about her hips, sighing with some relief as
she carefully drew the fat cock from her dripping cunt and sat astride
the weeping child, grinning down at her gleaming wet face before bringing
her bottom fully down upon it.

She squirmed, her head flung back as pleasure swept up her loins. She
reached back to help part her teenage bottom and rubbed herself on the
little mouth and nose she could feel beneath her, waiting a whole minute
before rising slightly to let the child breathe again.

Amy fought for her breath, her eyes wide with fright, certain she was
going to die between the thighs of the older girl.

“Pull her nipples while you do it,” Alice called out in an excited voice.

Betty pushed her bottom back down and grinned excitedly as she felt the
little mouth working, trying to find some way to breathe and yet only
achieving it by sending thrills up Betty’s body.

Then, conscious of her waiting mistress, Betty took Amy’s tiny nipples
between her fingers and thumbs, pinching them, pulling them upwards and
then dragging the flesh away until the child’s screams could be heard,
even from under Betty’s bottom. Her fingers slid off and the child’s
flesh returned to shape, now bright and tender.

“Harder, much harder!” Alice demanded, her voice sounding breathless.

Betty licked her lips and let Amy catch her breath, then settled on her
again, relaxing her anus as she put her whole weight on the girl’s face.
Then she took hold of the pubescent nipples again and cruelly twisted
them before she savagely pulled them upward. Amy erupted in agony,
arching and twisting, screaming loudly into Betty’s widely parted anal
crease.

“Now suspend her and whip her with the strap,” Alice panted. She pinched
and twisted her own nipples, and then pulled a breast up so she could
bite on her teat, sobbing as the electrifying sensations soared through
her.

“Quickly!” she gasped, rocking too and fro on the rubber cock embedded
deep in her own cunt.

Betty did as she was ordered and suspended Amy from the hook in the
middle of the room, a block and tackle helping her draw the young child
to her full height leaving just her toes curled into the carpet at her
feet.

Leaving her turning there, Betty retrieved the leather strap from the
wall and sucked in a deep breath while her heart pounded. She’d never had
an opportunity to punish someone as strongly as this, and it made her
cunt wet with excitement, so wet it dampened her upper thighs and made
them slide along each other with every step she took.

“Do it!” Alice called, and Betty dismissed her own thoughts to attend to
those of her mistress, drawing her slender arm back to give the strap a
full sweep before landing and curling half round Amy’s slender little
waist. Amy arched and squealed, then panted loudly as she stared at her
tormentor. Betty grinned and delivered another, aiming high to decorate
the child’s flat chest with a broad line from its landing.

Amy hollered and screamed, twisted and turned and despite it all Betty
decorated her body with the broad red stripes of the strap’s landing,
each strike causing a new wave of pain to push into the child. When the
child thought she could hurt no worse, Betty proved her wrong, shortening
the length she held to concentrate on the child’s prominent pubis, making
it glow a vivid, bright pink before she heard Miss Marchant call to her
to stop.

Almost unable to speak, Alice caught enough breath to ask Betty to come
towards the viewing port and the child obeyed. Rocking back and forth
without conscious effort now, a number of pleasant orgasms behind her,
but the magical one still above her, still outside her reach. It tempted
her and called her, and laughed at her attempts to obtain it.

“Come closer,” Alice panted.

There was a small hatch below the viewing port, large enough to allow her
hand to pass through into the other room.

Betty licked her lips, a nervousness dampening her arousal as she looked
towards the hatch. Little spikes protruded from the wooden partition and
also the floor in front of it placed there to deter the children from
trying to see who was spying on them.

Yet, she inched nearer to the edge of the spikes, her breath shortening
as she guessed her mistress would require more. She did. “Put your
breasts through the viewing gap so I can suck them,” she panted.

Betty whimpered and stepped onto the little spikes, crying out and
twisting her feet as she tried to find a place of least pain. She got to
the oblong hole in the wall and carefully arched her chest to present her
nipples to her mistress, every muscle taut as she placed herself within
less than an inch of the spike filled wall.

Alice groaned as she looked at the pretty little nipples that were
presented to her. She leant forward to take one into her mouth, nibbling
it slightly to hear Betty’s breath catch and a groan escape her. And
while she did that, her hands went through the lower gap, one between the
child’s thighs to find her soaking with passion, the other around her
tiny waist. There, her hand stroked the smooth skin of the girl’s bottom
and Alice exalted in its youthful smoothness.

As Betty groaned with the pleasure her mistress was giving her, Alice
tightened her arm and pulled her tightly to the wall.

Betty screamed. Alice’s thumb and finger invading her cunt and bottom
were as nothing compared to the many punctures her body received as she
was pushed into the wall. Among it all she felt her nipples being bitten,
the sharp agonising pleasure of skin being broken and her mistress
eagerly sucking on them.

Similarly, as the spikes tore her shaking body, she wondered how deeply
the thumb had entered her cunt and with the index finger in her anus, the
finger and thumb rubbed against each other, pulling and tugging at both
her sensitive holes.

The agony of being torn by the spikes seemed subdued as she wondered at
the sensations spiralling inwards from her crotch and breasts, meeting in
the middle to confuse her, causing her to push harder towards her
mistress, twisting for her, even though it tore her flesh apart. Alice
reached forward for the other little nipple and with her teeth closing
over it, punctured the flesh for the sweet blood it contained.

Its flavour filled her mouth and she felt herself explode with the
pleasure she had sought after all day, the marvellous crescendo, the all-
consuming delight, the total abandonment to her body’s pleasures. Her
cunt was felt to spasm around the deeply embedded cock. Her fingers
tightened inside the girl just to hear her cry out one more time, then
the pleasure was draining away and she was still and calm.

“You’ve have earned yourself a blue badge,” Alice sighed and rose slowly
from the rubber cock and sighed as it left her empty. She would have to
dress first, before getting the girls to the infirmary for medical
attention.

Amy Jennings joined Alice’s little harem and soon earned the converted
“badge of honour” like Sally Mildrew.

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