0 comments/ 60246 views/ 3 favorites The Selling of Amy By: Katherine English 2 Slowly I turned my head…my eyes fouled and blurry with tears, and watched as a bug skittered past my cheek across the dirty linoleum of the bathroom floor. My body, used and naked, cried out for the touch of a human hand…any hand…even the vile and humiliating hand that had left me in this ravaged condition. How long had I been here? How long since the carefree coed life I’d come to know and love had been so brutally stripped from me? I had no idea. All I knew, was that my ordeal wasn’t over…not yet. * * * * * Chapter I Previously: 11:30 P.M. Somewhere over the Pacific Dimly my eyes scanned the darkness for a glimpse of the lights of Kimpo International, my one connection point on the long trip from Anchorage to Hong Kong. For a while I’d wondered if I was ever going to get here with all of the weather and mechanical delays holding us at bay during the Christmas rush in Anchorage. But here I was, and finally after a long 10-hour flight…four hours behind schedule…the pilot was at last announcing our approach into Seoul, Korea. Once more a slow sinking feeling invaded my mind as I thought about the connecting flight, the one that would have taken me into Hong Kong, but which had long since departed for my far away destination. My fingers tensed on the armrest. “Asian Air” had promised to make good on its word to get me there safely …and tonight. But was that possible, I wondered? It was so very late! Somehow, deep down I knew that it wasn’t the hour, or even the lost connection that had me squirming in my seat. It was the fact that I was alone. For the first time I’d asserted myself and assured my parents that finally, as a freshman in college, I was old enough to travel on my own. I was no longer a child to be guided and coddled…but a competent and mature woman of 18. I needed my freedom…my “space”, I’d said. And now I had it. A voice broke the stillness…kind and consoling…the flight attendant. “Miss Carlisle?” I turned, smiling. “Miss Carlisle” she’d called me…not “Amy, or “A.C.” as my friends at school did. I was “Miss Carlisle” now…grown…adult. “Yes”, I replied, clearing the dry rasp from my throat. “I’m Amy Carlisle. Any word on my connection?” “That’s what I came to see you about, Miss Carlisle. I’m afraid that a connection isn’t possible tonight. Hong Kong International is closing at midnight…there won’t be enough time for a connecting flight to get there until morning. I’m really sorry,” she said, trying her best to soothe the panic-striken look from my eyes. Her patented "flight attendant smile" in place, she lay her hand over my own… retrieving my attention once again from the muted fear which filled my mind. “But don’t worry, Miss Carlisle. “Asian Air” has taken care of everything. We’ve made arrangements for you to stay at the Royal Regency, one of Seoul’s finest hotels, until morning, all expenses paid. As soon as we arrive, a representative of the airline will meet you with your vouchers for meals and lodging, and a limo driver will take you and your luggage to the hotel. You’ll be sipping champagne from room service in no time!” She smiled and stood beside my seat, her hand resting on my shoulder as if to ascertain my state of mind. Did I look as frightened as I felt, I wondered? My hand grasped the loose flap of my seat belt…twisting it nervously…wishing I were anywhere but here…anything but alone. But I was a woman now, wasn’t I? Mature. Assured. Confident. This was merely a brief setback…a momentary break in the flow of my journey. I was going to take full advantage of my “vouchers” and enjoy my evening…courtesy of “Asian Air”… or die trying! “That’ll be fine,” I replied finally, my voice attempting to spin an illusion my eyes were unable to confirm. “It can’t be helped…not a problem.” “We’ll be landing in 10 minutes then, Miss. Is there anything I can get you before we touch down…anyone you’d like the airline to contact for you?” Visions of my parents flashed through my mind, sitting around the Christmas tree, waiting for my call…they’d be frantic by now. I should have called hours ago, but here I was, still airborne. I turned to relay the number to the flight attendant, then thought better of it. I’d wait…and put it on my hotel bill. It would be a long call…expensive. “Asian Air” was going to pay dearly for disrupting Amy Carlisle’s vacation! Closing my eyes, I leaned back in my seat, smoothing the time-pressed wrinkles from my pale linen shift. It had looked so good back in the dorm…so adult, a contrast to the bright red strands of my long and riotous profusion of curls. A little eye shadow to highlight the blue/green of my eyes, a pale yet tasteful shade of lipstick, and one would never know that only moments before I’d been prancing around the dorm in my panties, borrowing a flight bag from a dorm-mate. Such are the illusions of life, I mused. Child to woman…where does the true transition take place? The lights beyond the small porthole grew brighter as we made our final approach into Seoul, until finally the silvery wing of the plane shone with a lightness that belied the lateness of the hour. One by one the passengers disembarked, leaving only myself and a few other tardy souls to wrest our carry-ons from the overhead compartment and make our way toward the exit. By the time I reached the terminal itself, all but one tired traveler had already departed in the direction of the baggage claim area. I was alone again, or so I thought. Then, from behind a door labeled “employees only” appeared a man dressed in “Asian Air” colors, sporting a small sign with the word “Carlisle” lettered carefully on its surface. Quickly, as though he too wanted to be done and on his way to hearth and home, the employee approached and handed me a small envelope containing my vouchers. “If you’ll just follow this concourse to the baggage area, Miss Carlisle, you’ll be able to claim your belongings and be on your way to the hotel. I’m sure you must be tired. “Asian Air’ would like to apologize for any inconvenience this delay may have caused,” he finished in perfect corporate-speak. And then with a quick glance that spoke of interest beyond the call of duty, he gave a final wave in the direction of the baggage claim, turned, vanished once again into the depths of “employees only” and was gone…leaving me to once more fend for myself. Tired and confused, I made my way toward my destination, the small envelope clutched in my hand as though it meant my very salvation. I arrived at the luggage carrousel to find my bags following the solitary circuit alone…traveling in endless circles…crying out for my attention. And where was the limo driver I’d been promised? Probably home in bed, where I should have been! Quickly I searched for an empty luggage carrier, and found none available. So, sliding my purse-strap high on my shoulder, I tucked my carry-on under my arm, and began to drag my two large and weighty suitcases from the carousel. Why had I brought so much, I chastised myself for the fourth time today. My parents had always taken care of the necessities of travel before. I suppose I’d been afraid of “being without” at the last minute. Well…too late to repent, I decided as I tugged the impossibly heavy cases across the carpeted concourse in the direction of the nearest exit. Then I stopped. Before me stood a man, small in stature, wrinkled beyond belief…his hand outstretched as though to give assistance. A grin broke the nondescript features of his wizened walnut skin as he closed his hand around the handle of first one and then the other of my suitcases. “I help you, Missy? I’m taxi-man,” he said as though he was about to change clothing in a phone booth and return as a superhero. “I take you anywhere. Ok? You follow?” I was relieved…my deliverance was at hand! Gratefully, I allowed the little man to deal with the luggage and followed him to the exit where his dusty, battered conveyance sat waiting. “You sit, Missy. I take care,” he directed, nodding his head in the direction of the back seat. Back to sitting, I groaned inwardly as I plunked my tired “tushy” once again in the oh-so-familiar posture and waited for my erstwhile Gallihad to finish loading the luggage. Then, in no time we were off. The streets of the city, still bustling even at this hour, sped quickly by then thinned as we turned onto a secondary street and made out way through a warehouse district crisscrossed with cobblestones and railroad tracks. “How far is it to the hotel?” I asked, the fatigue evident in my voice. (silence) “I said…how much further do we have to go? I thought it was nearby.” (still no answer) I began to become nervous… panic once more filling the pit of my stomach. (a click) The plungers on the door locks slid into place… immovably…locking me securely in the back seat. Frantically I began to pound on the heavy sheet of plexiglass that separated me from my driver. “Driver! What’s happening. Why is my door locked!” I called, my voice rising in volume with each syllable. “Not to worry,” he replied finally, his voice now more a dry, sing-song monotone. “I keep you safe, Missy…must lock. It just stuck. I fix.” Reluctant but helpless, I sat uneasily in the back seat. And so we traveled in silence for another five minutes, each turn taking us farther and farther from the beaten path until he finally stopped the cab in front of the garage entrance to a remote warehouse somewhere along the waterfront. “Driver! I know damned well this isn’t the Royal Regency! I want you to start this cab and take me there immediately!” I asserted, drawing from my dwindling reserve of false bravado. Once more I was greeted by silence, until finally he leaned forward and delivered two quick honks of his horn into the stillness of our surroundings. Immediately, the garage door began to rise, and the taxi made its way slowly into the dimly lit interior of an empty and dilapidated storage area. Fear…suppressed until now, rose full-blown in all its glory. This was wrong…so wrong. The child I’d hidden so carefully in the garb of a woman came trembling to the surface. “Why am I here?” I whispered, my voice a frightened hush in the muted silence of the back seat. “Please…I need to get to the hotel! I’m expected,” I lied, hoping that my fabrication would make a difference. Quietly, the little man opened his door and stood in the entryway…waiting as a second man… pale with chestnut hair and an expensive business suit approached our location. Bending over, he stared through the window as though selecting a loin of pork. “What have you got for me?” he questioned without preamble. “She looks young…a little thin. How much?” “Three hundred dollar,” came the tentative reply, a starting point in an apparently well-worn process. “Fifty,” came the counter offer. “She may look good, but she won’t last. Not big enough.” “Two hundred,” the little man replied with conviction. “You see her body,” he countered, gesturing crudely at his own nipples. “Big enough! This one a bargain at two hundred!” “Not a chance,” came the reply. “I’ll go as high as one hundred, but that’s it. She’s got to be broken…she’s untrained…she’s not worth more than that.” The driver set his jaw, then spat in disgust upon the oily cement floor. “You take…one hundred. But if she has cash…it belong me!” “Deal,” replied The Suit. Then, opening the door with a key, he gestured for me to disembark. Desperately holding back my tears, I'd listened as my freedom had been bartered away for a handful of dollars. How could this be, I wondered as I cringed against the far wall of the taxi, avoiding the eyes that so flatly demanded my obedience. I wasn't possible! “You don’t want me to have to come in after you, Bitch,” he snarled. “Move your ass, or I’ll move it for you!” He paused, and then as though he’d been hoping for a confrontation, he grabbed my ankle and began to drag me from the back seat, my dress rising to my pantyline, his knee between my thighs as I struggled against his large, muscular hands. Finally…with a sadistic smile, his palm rose and came crashing down on the right side of my face…then the left as my eyes filled with tears, my head ringing from his assault. “You done yet, Bitch…or do you want some more?” he smiled, his hand rising once again. “No…I’ll come,” I whimpered, remembering the pain of his blows, then slowly began to slide towards the open doorway. “Hurry up!” The Suit snarled, his hand grabbing the front of my dress, dragging me, his hips pinning me against the right front fender of the taxi. “I want your passport, ticket and reservation! Where is it?” he demanded. I hesitated, my body trembling…knees shaking. “I m expected, I’ll be missed,” I whined. “If you let me go…I won’t tell anyone…I promise!” Once more his hand left a livid mark across my cheek as I cried out in pain. “Passport! Ticket! Reservation!” he demanded loudly! “Not bullshit! Where are they…NOW!!” Again my voice broke the stillness…no longer that of a woman-to-be, but that of a child begging to be spared punishment. “In my purse,” I whispered, “…all but the passport. It’s in my b-b-bra.” Slowly, his eyes traveled downward toward the scoop-neck of my shift, as though he’d been given an early bonus. Smiling, he thrust his hand down my cleavage and began fumbling around inside of my bra. I cringed again, my hands automatically batting at his until he once again raised his free palm into the air for another blow. Fearful, my arms dropped futilely to my sides as he grouped my breast, his fingers digging into my tender flesh, cruelly twisting the nipple as he felt me writhe against him. He smiled…a smile that turned the last of my hope to ashes… his hips grinding against me as he grasped the passport and removed it from my bra. Slowly, he opened the tiny folder and scanned the picture before him. “Amy Carlisle, huh. Eighteen. Anchorage. Well, Bitch…say good-bye to Alaska,” he laughed as he tossed the document into a nearby drum, his fist once more closing on the neckline of my dress. Quickly dragging me across the floor, like a dog on a leash, he forced me face-down upon a heavy metal table that sat isolated, in the center of the room. There, pinioning my body against the edge, he grasped my left wrist and tied it securely to a leg on the far side. With my last ounce of defiance I lashed out with my heel, connecting painfully with what I assume must have been his shin. I heard a groan, and then felt myself turned and thrown roughly on my back upon the table, his blows raining heavily left and right across my face. I was stunned… throbbing with pain. In a daze, I felt myself once more spread-eagled, face down as my remaining wrist was secured to the far right leg of the table. I lay my quivering cheek against the cool surface beneath me, cringing as a low chuckle erupted from my persecutor. His hands… ever so ready, now slid between my thighs, separating them, stroking them, then binding my ankles…one at a time to the remaining table legs. My tears… my tiny sobs seemed to energize him, and smiling once again he crossed to the taxi and took my purse from the back seat. He thrust his hand inside, and I saw my wallet, bought only last week at the local department store, appeared in his grasp…open…violated. “A driver’s license. Are you a good driver, Amy?” he taunted, then tossed the license into the drum with the passport. "Answer me, Bitch!" Tears of fear and frustration welled up behind my eyelids. "Y-yes," I whispered, my voice small and vulnerable beneath his scrutiny. Satisfied, he smirked and continued on…“Student I.D… Did you get good grades, Amy? I hope you’re a good student…my exams are brutal!” he laughed, amused at his own choice of words. Again, the small rectangle was swallowed whole by the large rusted drum in the corner. The Suit was having fun, and it showed in the distorted hang of his tailored pants. “Credit card…credit card…credit card. My, we’re a high maintenance little Bitch, aren’t we, Amy? Not anymore. And cash,” he added, tossing the wallet, travelers checks and the remainder of the contents into the barrel's void along with the rest. “Three hundred dollars! Well, Amy, you just bought yourself for me, little girl,” he laughed. Slowly he peeled a hundred from his fist, then tossed the remainder to the waiting taxi driver. “Get the hell outta here…I’ve got work to do,” he said squirting lighter fluid into the barrel and tossing in a match. “…but tell Samantha to come on down before you go,” he ordered. Quickly the driver disappeared up the rusted metal stairs to the second floor, then returned with a severely stunning blond in an expensively tailored red suit. “Call her hotel,” Suit ordered. “You’re Amy Carlisle…and you’re canceling… you’ve decided to stay the night with friends instead. Understood?” Samantha gave Suit a cold smile, then watched as he rounded the table and placed his hand on my protruding buttocks. “We’re friends, aren’t we Amy?” he crooned, his fingers stroking the flesh beneath my hemline. “And…as your friend, I’m warning you to be very, very quiet while Samantha is on the line,” he whispered threateningly, his hand stroking idly as he watched the blond complete her call. Her voice, blurred by the continuous ringing in my ears, suddenly ceased and she flicked the cell phone closed in her palm. “They’re going to charge the airline anyway, Amy…because YOU didn’t cancel early enough!” she laughed, pleased at her own joke. Then she approached the table and took my face roughly between her palms. “Tony! What the hell happened to her! She’s a mess. We can’t deliver her like this! It’ll be ages before these bruises fade enough to do business. What in hell were you thinking!” “She needed a lesson,” Tony grumbled angrily, “...so I gave her one. You want one too?” The blond was immediately subdued, and turned her attention to me instead. “Well…maybe we can have some fun with her while we wait anyway. Is she a virgin?” Tony smiled. “Don’t know…haven’t checked yet. No time like the present.” The blond rubbed her palms against her thighs and murmured “No…let me. It’s my turn. You’ve had all the fun so far.” I cringed, a low whimper escaping from my throat as I felt her position herself between my outstretched legs. “So…are you a virgin, Amy?” she murmured against my neck as she pressed her body atop mine, her long nails tracing dull red marks along the back of my thigh. Panicked, I held my silence, hoping that “Samantha” would become bored and leave me alone, but such was not the case. “Someone needs a little coaxing,” she continued, sliding my dress upward until it reached my bra, exposing my black lace panties to her gaze. I jerked against my bonds…struggling to avoid her probing touch, but my futile gesture only amused her. “MMM…nice,” she commented as she slipped her fingers beneath my waistband and slowly peeled my delicate covering down to my quivering knees. “So…I’ll ask again, Amy. Are you a virgin? Tell me sweets...I want to know…everything,” she murmured seductively as her fingers probed unerringly between my thighs. I whimpered once again as I felt her long piercing nail press painfully into the tender flesh between my anus and vagina. “Yes!” I cried, then…”…no, not anymore.” “Well…which is it, then? Yes or no?” she questioned, her nail digging ever deeper. I whimpered once more, drawing a sigh from her bright red lips. “N-no,” I confessed. “My boyfriend…he…I…did it once.” Again she leaned atop my body, whispering in my ear. “Tell me, Sugar…I want to hear about it…all about it. Understood?” she ordered, her nail drawing a tiny trickle of blood where it dug incessantly. The Selling of Amy I flushed…the memory painful and humiliating…but no more humiliating than her ministrations between my tortured buttocks. And so I began. “W-we were at the drive in…Randy and I. I was watching the show, and he wanted to kiss me. That was okay…I mean…just kissing, but then he wanted more. He wanted to undo my blouse.” Samantha’s free hand began to caress my bare buttocks, her nail still pressing painfully below. “OOOOO…nasty boy. And then what, Sweetie? Did you let him?” I paused, the pain building unbearably. “N-not at first," I whined, "but then he was kissing me…and his hand slid under my blouse…and it didn’t seem so bad anymore. So when he reached for the buttons again…I let him. He said I was beautiful, and he started kissing my breasts with my bra on." I hesitated. "Then he reached for the hook in the front. 'You’re so beautiful,' he said, 'I want to see more… please. It’s ok…I would never do anything you didn’t want. I swear.'” I turned my head. Samantha’s free hand had slid to her own breasts, her fingers massaging slowly between the opened buttons of her suit. “And then?” she whispered, breathlessly. I cringed at the memory, the pain of her nail forcing me onward. “He released the lever on the car seat and lay it way back…all the way. Then…he started touching me…stroking my nipples… sucking them into his mouth…groaning as he began to slide his hand under my skirt.” “And you let him, didn’t you Amy. You let him put his big sweaty hands on your pussy, didn’t you?” Samantha panted, her fingers quickening their pace, her nail digging ever harder. I wailed in frightened indignation. “No! Not at first. I told him to stop…and he did. But then he started licking my breasts again…sucking…and his hand was back again. This time I felt him pressing…you know…his ‘thing’ against my leg.” Samantha smiled sadistically. “His ‘thing’, Amy? Say it Dear…I want to hear it. What thing?” she persisted, her nail drawing yet another drop of blood. “H-his…his…” I stammered… “COCK! It’s his cock. SAY IT!” I shivered in pain as she drove her nail home once more. “Yes…his…cock, “ I whispered, ashamed at what I was saying. “Continue,” Samantha purred in satisfaction. “I want it all.” Crying softly, I continued. “He kept stroking my thigh, and I kept asking him to stop. Finally, he started running his fingers underneath the crotch of my panties. I started to cry, but he said it was okay, that I could trust him…to relax, that nothing was going to happen that I didn’t want to happen. “And did you want it to happen, Amy? Did you want his big nasty cock inside of you?” she questioned breathlessly. “No…I didn’t,” I wailed. “But suddenly he wouldn’t stop! He took his…cock…out of his pants, got between my legs and tore my panties off! I tried to scream, but he stuffed them into my mouth and tied them there with a piece of cord from the floor. He held my wrists! He wouldn’t let me go!” Once more I turned my head. Samantha was in a frenzy now, her free hand working frantically beneath the waistband of her skirt. “Was he hard? Were you wet…did you want it? Did he hurt you, Baby…did you bleed?” “Ohhhhh…” I wailed, sobbing against the cold metal surface. “Yes…it hurt! So much…it hurt! But he just shoved it into me…pounding harder and harder while I tried to get free. He had his eyes closed…and his face…like someone I didn’t know. I didn’t want him to! I kept struggling, but he had me pinned…I couldn’t move. Then he…” “Then he WHAT?” Samantha yelled, her voice harsh and urgent. “TELL ME!” I gasped at the guttural intensity of her voice. “He---he started to shake and make all kinds of noises…and I could feel him…hot and wet….inside of me…all over my thighs.” “Oh, yes…YES!” Samantha gasped, her nail jabbing uncontrollably now as her body shivered beneath her red suit. “Oh Baby…and you liked it…didn’t you…you loved it…it made you so hot…” she moaned, laying her body atop mine, her tongue tracing my spine. I was wailing now…the pain…the pain! “No!” I sobbed “I didn’t! He promised he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to! I trusted him! But he said I was 'wet'…that he knew I really wanted it. He said that he hadn’t broken his promise…and then he was hard again. He reached for me and I jumped out of the car. I walked home. I broke up with him the next day, and I never let anyone ‘touch’ me again.” Broken and ashamed, I cried uncontrollably against the cold unyielding surface. My tears bringing a slow smile to my tormentors' faces. I would find no solace here, I knew…only pain and debasement. Weakly, I lowered my head and sobbed. Chapter II Tony, for that appeared to be the Suit's name, had been more than a receptive audience to the whole scene. His pants, now distorted immeasurably, stood out in crude relief before him… his hand rubbing slowly against the ominous bulge between his legs. His smile, cold and menacing, now took on new dimensions as he crossed to the far side of the table and began to untie my wrists. With a grunt he reached forward, and with rough jerking motions, yanked my bra and dress over my head and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor at his feet. Then, circling behind me, he took a roll of Duct tape and bound my arms…hand against elbow…tightly behind my back until my shoulder blades creaked in pain. I felt his tongue against my right buttock as he bent low, and in short order I found my ankles once more free, my panties hanging limply between my thighs. "On your knees, Bitch!" he ordered, his hand twisting painfully in my hair. Relentlessly he forced me downward until I found myself on the cold cement floor, my face pressed against the metallic teeth of his zipper. I cringed. Did he want me to… He reached down, taking my painfully bruised cheeks in his hands. "Open your mouth, Bitch. I've got something for you," he laughed. "And you'd better play nice...no teeth, or you'll wish you'd never been born!" My stomach began to revolt. I couldn't! Even when Randy had asked, I hadn't placed his (that word again!) "cock" in my mouth! Oh please…let me be wrong…let me be wrong…. But I wasn't. Slowly Tony slid his zipper downward, reaching inside with his right hand and releasing his huge, heavily engorged sex. "OPEN YOUR MOUTH!" he ordered once more, mashing my closed and trembling lips against his hardened flesh. "NOW!" Again he twisted my hair, tearing at the roots until I felt that surely it would all come away in his hand. My lips parted, an exclamation of pain escaping into the room…and that was when he entered me. Roughly he forced me against him, his swollen member thrusting savagely into my throat, the musky smell of him filling my nostrils. I gagged, my body revolting under his assault, the gorge rising into my mouth. Suddenly, uncontrollably, I began to vomit, the foul smelling offal flowing from my lips down the front of Tony's pants…across my breasts…down into the panties cupped between my knees. "You fuckin' Bitch!" he screamed, backing away from my quivering form. "Look what you did! Do you know how much this suit costs? A hell of a lot more than you do!" He lashed out with his right foot, catching me squarely in the stomach, and I fell against the floor, lost in a world of airless anguish. Livid with anger, he tore the panties, fouled and rank from my helpless body and shoved them into my mouth, securing them with a length of duct tape. "You're gonna pay for that, Bitch! He snarled, wiping the flecks of my vomit from his suit with my dress. "I'm gonna make you beg to suck me next time…and you will. Believe me. Before I'm done you'll think this prick is the best thing that ever happened to you!" he grinned sadistically. "Throw her in the box," he ordered. Suddenly I felt myself being dragged to my feet…slender fingers forcing me forward until I was bent over and shoved abruptly into what appeared to be a packing crate about five feet high and eight feet long. The "door" was then slammed shut behind me, and I heard a lock click into place. It was dark inside…a world of blackness, the air stale and thick. I tried to stand, but found the height too confining…the naked flesh of my back abraded by the rough, slivered surface of the wood above. And so I sat…my cowering form pressed into a corner…my mind searching the inky blackness for a glimpse of light…the sound of humanity beyond…but it seemed hopeless. Time passed. How long? An hour? A day? Longer? My mouth, fouled by the taste of my panties became pasty, my throat painfully dry…the air around me stifling and heavy. I closed my eyes. Would they return? Had I been left here to die? Was this, then, the revenge to which Tony had alluded? Fitfully, I slept, moaning softly against the gag which tormented my lips and tongue. When I awoke, I found that something, either the moisture from my tears or the occasional dampness of saliva had loosened the tape over my mouth. Frantically I worked my lips against the adhesive until, finally, I felt it give way and fall limply to one side. Choking, I spat the remains of my once-favorite panties onto the floor of the crate, their allure now tarnished and forgotten. "Hello?" I called, the sound of my voice dry and strangled. "Is anyone there? Please…answer me…" I cried. I sat in silence…listening…listening…until finally from out of the void came a sound. "Hello?" it taunted. "Is anyone there…there…there?" The Voice, hollow and remote, echoed through the gloom, sending unknown fear throughout my body. My skin prickled. "Hello?" I called again, almost fearing the response. And again the unearthly echo resounded around me…"Hello?" (a low chuckle). "Hello…hello… hellooooo…" I pressed my body against the back of the box, struggling once more against my bonds, defenseless against the Voice that invaded my mind In desperation I tried one last time. "Who are you?" I whispered. "Can you help me?" This time the Voice was close…whispering in my ear…caressing my quivering flesh. "Who…are…you…" it mimicked. "Who…are…you…help…me…help…me…" Again I whimpered. Was I going mad? Had I lost my mind? How long had I been here…how long since I'd had anything to eat or drink? Was this what it felt like to die? Time wore on…how long I never knew. Eventually a small portal appeared within the dim recesses of my tomb, a tiny opening through which a crust of bread and the hard, metallic nozzle of a hose were thrust, its cold offering drenching me, but keeping me alive. Throughout this ordeal the voices, ever present, mocked me incessantly… decrying my lack of human contact…reveling in my terror as they whispered vile torments against my quivering flesh until I was certain that I must once again join the living or lose my mind. During this period, my body, starved and dehydrated, had failed to function in it's normal capacity, and I was at least spared the ignominy of having to relieve myself in the black confines of my prison…but this was not to last. Eventually, even that became a torment as the need to urinate became more and more a demand, fairly screaming in my ears, causing my stomach to cramp and tiny trickles to escape down my thighs. Again I braved the darkness…the voices… and leaned against the doorway, my parched lips pressed against the wood, hoping for a miracle. "Please," I whispered, "Please…I have to…pee. Please…can you let me out!" (silence) "Please!" I begged, as my stomach began to cramp painfully…"PLEASE…let me out…I can't…." A sound? Could there be someone out there, or were my voices playing tricks on me once again? I shivered at the thought, another tiny gush slipping between my thighs and pooling on the floor between my knees. Finally, I heard the rapping of heels on the pavement beyond. Stephanie? Could it be the sadistic woman in red who had so painfully degraded me upon my arrival? Suddenly I heard the lock click…the door being wrenched outward, and I was at once blinded by the light of the outside world. The glare, painful at first, soon became secondary as I was dragged to my feet by my captor, her hands grasping my hair, slipping a vile-smelling hood over my head, leading me painfully from the box. She spoke not a word as she lead me across the floor, until final a door opened and I felt the coldness of ceramic tile beneath my feet. Again I was propelled forward until her hands, long-nailed and chill, forced me down upon the seat of a toilet. I wanted to pee…needed to pee, but suddenly the vision of Stephanie, her hand down the front of her skirt, filled my mind, and my body refused to obey my command. Was she watching? Was I again a source of …amusement? Dare I ask for a second's worth of privacy? "I-I c-can't, " I whispered. "Could I be…alone…for just a second…please?" I whined. Stephanie (for that's who it was), chuckled, her voice low and seductive. "What's the matter, little girl? Can't do it with an audience? Here…let me help you…" Suddenly I smelled her perfume…close…against me… her hand thrust between my legs…her fingers parting my auburn thatch…probing…violating… "In my hand, Amy…NOW!" she demanded. "It's that, or you can do it in your box, Bitch! DO IT!" At the mention of my 'box' my muscles released, and in a hot, steaming gush my urine flowed into Stephanie's hand. "Come on, " she urged, "I know you have more…keep it coming, you nasty girl…I want it all." I felt a flush of humiliation creep across my face beneath the hood. I'd been used again…once more fodder for this sick, sadistic woman's desires. Would this ever end? Would Stephanie ever…" "Playing nicely, girls?' a male voice commented. Tony! I'd have known his voice anywhere. He chuckled, his voice dusky with intent. "Why this little girl is filthy, Stephanie! We need to keep our merchandise in good condition. Get me the hose." Dimly, I heard the staccato of Stephanie's heels against the tile as Tony removed the hood and grasped my hair, pulling me from the toilet cubicle. His hands, large and brutal, propelled me across the room, pressing me face-first against the cold tiled wall beside a urinal. The light… glaring and painful, pierced my consciousness as be began stripping the tape from my arms. Finally, free at last. I gasped at my good fortune. I was being released…or was I? "Hose her down," he ordered, and immediately I felt the icy blast of the hose once again…this time shooting full-force against my tender flesh…tearing in thin cutting streams against my face…my breasts…between my legs. I turned against the wall to protect myself, and felt the force of the stream penetrate savagely between my buttocks. I gasped…a scream of both shock and pain permeating the tiled chamber. Then Tony, his clothing folded and laying neatly on the countertop on the far side of the room, approached me once more. "Are you a dirty girl, Amy?" he murmured against my hair, his hands pressing me against the cold wall, my breasts squashed painfully against the tile. "Shall I clean you up…or would you like to go back to your box now?" he asked, his voice mocking…taunting. I shivered…THE BOX! I couldn't! The voices…the darkness… "Yes," I whispered through my chattering teeth. "…clean…me.' "Then ask me nicely, Bitch!" he grumbled. "Or better yet…beg." I cringed, a small revolution being waged within me…but I couldn't go back...I couldn't. The black desperation of my confinement whispered in my ears. "The Box, Amy…The Box…", and I knew what I had to do. "Please, Tony…please. Clean me…I'm begging you…I want it. Please…help me." A pause. Then, from somewhere nearby I heard the tear of paper, then the smell of something familiar. Soap? Irish Spring? I whimpered…something from home…here…in hell. How could it be? His left hand against the back of my neck, Tony pressed me once more against the wall and began to roughly slide the soap over my shoulders and down the length of my back. Then he came to my buttocks. "Spread your legs, Bitch," he ordered, forcing the bar of soap along the crack between my cheeks. "And smile…I'm doing you a favor!" Visions of the box began to taunt me once more as I slid my right leg to the side and allowed his vile fingers to thrust deep within the crevice of my body, a grim smile pasted across my ravaged face. "Nice ass, Bitch. I like," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Now turn around and keep 'em spread." Trembling, I turned to find Tony, his massive "cock" ( for I had ceased to think of it as anything but "cock" at this juncture) fully erect and straining for release. I shivered. Could I do what was expected of me…could I? Again Tony began to slide the bar of Irish Spring across my body, massaging my breasts, sliding his brutal hands over my nipples…pinching and twisting beneath the thin guise of hygiene. Then, a sadistic smile curling his lips, he shoved the bar of soap between my legs once more, first lathering my curly patch, then thrusting savagely deep inside. I cried out both in surprise and humiliation. "NO! DON'T!" I screamed, attempting futilely to suppress the words as they escaped my lips. But it was too late. "Don't?…DON'T!" he roared. "I'm sorry…" I cried. "Please…I'm so sorry!" But Tony was no longer listening. Instead, Samantha began rinsing the soap from my body and attaching a heavy collar to my neck…leather with steel rings inset into the center. Then, turning me once more toward the wall, she bound my wrists behind and attached a short leash…securing it to the collar above, twisting my hands painfully upward until they throbbed in misery. "So…you still think you're too good for all of this..." Tony murmured, his voice bare and naked in the echo of the room. "We'll see what another tour of duty in the box will do for you…but first…" Frantic, I began to plead…beg for another chance. I turned, and falling to my knees, I opened my mouth hoping that the act I had so reviled would prove to be my salvation. But Tony was not to be placated. Instead he stood before me, his hand working slowly along the length of his cock…murmuring "…too late, Bitch…too late." Suddenly a flood of hot slime shot forth from his cock, filling my eyes, covering my nose and mouth…dripping from my chin onto my breasts. Once more I cried out in humiliation, but he only laughed. "Take her to the other box," he ordered, "…and leave her there." Chapter III Already the voices called to me as Samantha dragged me across the floor, her hand clutching the short length of leash which stretched taut against my spine. The box, the new one, was smaller than the first…more coffin-like in appearance, measuring approximately four feet tall and six feet in length. A fitting place to die, I considered as the voices drew me in once more…or to go mad. Again time began to fade, replaced by the taunting murmurs of my constant companions. "Why didn't you let him touch you?" they hissed. "Would it have been so bad? Would it have been worse that this?" I shuddered….how could I shut them out? Would I ever be free of them again? Would I ever be free at all? "Do it, Amy…beg…plead," they urged. "Do whatever you have to do to survive…to live. Do it…do it….do it…" An anguished cry tore from my lips as I spotted the hose, thrusting through the tiny aperture at my feet… beginning to drip into the box. "Tony!" I screamed, throwing my body against the door. "Please…ohhh..please! Let me…let me! I'll do what you want! I'll do anything! I'm begging you…please!" (a pause) "Tony," I howled once more…"Please…oh, please!" I whispered. I…want it…I want it. I'm begging you, Tony…let me!" The Selling of Amy "Let you…what, Bitch," he growled from beyond the darkness. "Say it…SAY IT!" I cringed…but the words flowed freely, unstoppably from my lips. "Let me…suck…you…your…your cock, Tony. I want you in my mouth, Tony…please. PLEASE!" "Then show me," he mocked. "Put your lips on the hose and show me, Bitch!" Frantically, I lowered my head and began to suck, the flow increasing from a tiny trickle to a massive flood that drenched my breasts and body as I tried in vain to prove my intentions to my captor. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the hose was gone…the aperture closed. I opened my mouth to cry out…to renew my pleas, but found it unnecessary. In a few moments I heard the lock snap, and the door was once more opened, the bright light of a single bulb piercing my vision. I squinted into the glare of the room, a shadow looming before me…a large shape…Tony. Eyes wide, I watched as he silently released his belt… his zipper…then pushed his pants and boxers down to his thighs. "Prove it, Bitch." He said simply. And I did. Hungrily I ground my face against his crotch…taking him into my mouth as far as I could, as far as my lack of experience allowed…sucking…sucking as though my life depended upon it. Again I felt his hands in my hair, forcing me forward, hard against his body. "All of it, Bitch. Open your throat! Do it!" Then, giving a savage yank, he drove the last of his massive cock deep into my throat, his pubic hair crushed against my lips and face, his flesh choking me…strangling me as I struggled against my bonds, my wrists growing chaffed and raw. "Harder!" he demanded. "Harder! You love it, don't you, Amy! Tell me…I want to hear it…beg Amy…beg!" Frantically I tried to please him, sucking harder and harder, my voice muted and pleading as he rammed heavily deep within my throat. Then, with a final ferocious thrust, he groaned and I tasted his salty cum fill my mouth, running down my throat, spilling between my lips, down my chest. "Swallow it, Bitch! All of it! Lick it dry!" he commanded. I closed my eyes and began to swallow, images of The Box swimming among my tears as I hastened to obey. Finally, the flow ceased, and I sank back upon my heels, thankful that my ordeal was over. But apparently Tony had other ideas. Stepping out of his pants, Tony tossed me over his shoulder, the bared, rounded orbs of my body jiggling in the air, and carried me to the table in the center of the room once more. There he perched me, my buttocks on the edge, and pressed my back flat against the cold, metal surface of so long ago. This time he pulled me forward and brutally spread my legs, tying my ankles wide apart…my legs to those of the table in an obscene display. Without preamble, I felt his hand thrust crudely between my thighs…his fingers probing deep inside my auburn curls…invading my most intimate recesses. Again my wrists sought their freedom…a release from the abrasive binding which cut into my tortured flesh.. My body screamed out in torment as he plundered my tight passage, twisting and probing until I had to stifle my screams or risk The Box once more. And then I felt his thumb…thick and callused, forcing the heavy ring of muscle between my cheeks. "OOOHHHH!!" I cried, the anguish escaping my lips. He paused. "What is it, Amy?" he taunted. "Don't you like this?" he asked, savagely jabbing the fullness of his thumb once more between my quivering buttocks. "Something to say to me, Amy?" he threatened…"So, say it, Bitch!" "I-I like it, Tony," I wailed, as he once more plundered my narrower passage. "Please, Tony…don't stop," I begged, the tears flowing in torrents down my cheeks. "Please… OH…PLEASE!" I fairly screamed as he thrust deeper and deeper. Then, in an instant, the hand was gone, and I felt my legs being spread wide as his roughened thighs pressed hotly between my own. "I've been waiting for this for six days", he groaned as he forced my 'lips' apart and pounded full length into my quivering core. I screamed as visions of Randy filled my mind. But this was no boy in the front seat of his Dad's car…this was a man…full and heavy…massively appointed…tearing at my near-virginal channel with brutal and punishing thrusts. He laughed…loud and long, then fairly howled in his guttural tones, "Say it, Amy! I want to hear it. Tell me to fuck your pussy, Amy…beg me…DO IT!" I quivered, almost pausing, but still The Box loomed in my memory…anything but that! And so I obeyed, the words slipping between my lips like foul sewage, like the taste of his cock upon my tongue. "Yes, Tony. I want it. I want you to…" He lunged again, lancing me with a savage blow…" "Say it all! What did I tell you, Amy…SAY IT!" "FUCK MY PUSSY!" I screamed as the pain shot through my hips deep into my belly. And with that he groaned, obscene mutterings keeping pace with his massive thrusts as he lunged over and over, his body growing rigid as he shot his thick cum deep inside of me. "OOOHHHHH…YEAH, BABY! Take it all…Take it all! FUCK! FUCK!!" I shivered as his heat filled me, frightened at the pink-tinged flow that followed his thrusts and now coated my thighs. "Your boyfriend didn't do a very good job," he smirked as he forced my pussy apart and examined the red and ravaged aperture from which his now softening cock had slipped. "Not good at all," he laughed, probing the tender flesh with his finger once more. "Suck it," he ordered, pulling me upright by my collar. "This is what it tastes like when a real man does it!" Then, watching as I obeyed, he began to once more release my legs and drag me back to the crate from which I'd come. "NO!" I screamed. "I did what you wanted! I'll do more…ANYTHING! PLEASE! Don't put me back in The Box," I begged, my voice raw and rasping. Tony opened the door and forced me to me knees, his hand against my back…pushing me forward into the gloom…the taunting voices. Quickly I swung about, my lips seeking his cock once more…my eyes pleading for yet another chance. "My, my…you ARE a hungry Bitch!" he laughed. "Alright, Slut…if you want it so bad. Suck it dry…clean it off with your tongue." Trembling, I hastened to obey, the opened doorway taunting my every gesture…urging me to greater heights. Finally, I felt Tony begin to stiffen once more, his heavy presence filling my mouth…my throat. I sucked harder, deeper, hoping against hope that my efforts would win me a place outside of The Boxes' confines. But then, just as I began to taste the first tiny drops of his cum on my tongue, he withdrew, and turning me around, pressed my face and upper body down against the hard cement floor. Tony, his hand pressing heavily against the back of my neck, now reached beneath my hips and raised my posterior into the air, his knees insinuated tightly between my own. I whimpered. I'd heard about this…this painful coupling to which some men subjected their women, but I never thought that I… Immediately I remembered the horrific thrusts of Tony's thumb not so long ago. This would be worse…so much worse, a small voice screamed into my quailing mind. Tony was huge…at least twice the size of Randy…and this small, tight opening was no match for… "OOOHHHHHH!!!!!!" I screamed, my voice bouncing off the very walls. The Pain! Like a hot poker cleaving my body in two as he drove his thick, rigid cock full-thrust into my tight hole. My hands, still bound securely behind my back, clutched convulsively in the air as he rammed himself 'home' once more…and again. Tony grunted…his exertions powerful, his thrusts slowed by the incredible tightness of my narrow passage. Finally, after what seemed like eons in agony, he penetrated deeply into my belly with one last massive lunge, and filled me once again with the hot, sticky effluent of his sex. He groaned, his body falling atop mine, blackness overcoming me as I drifted into a world where pain and voices could no longer reach me. Time passed. When I awoke I was no longer in the warehouse proper, but once more back in a Box. This was a different box, however…much smaller… this time with a light and a warm blanket on the floor. Though my collar still remained, my wrists had been untied, and the short leash to which they had been attached was now absent. This apparently was the reward for my cooperation, for here the voices had all but vanished beneath the dim glow of the small bulb, and I could control the shivers that had wracked my body with the gentle comfort of a warm, soft covering. But it was still a Box. And I was still its prisoner. I curled into the corner, my blanket wrapped tightly about me…and sobbed. Chapter IV The passage of time lost all meaning in the days (or was it weeks?) that followed. For the first time since my captivity, I enjoyed the relative luxury of an occasional reprieve from my cramped confinement. I found, during these moments, that while total submission to Tony's every desire won me little more than I had already attained, any departure from this standard became the cause of great pain and mental anguish…dealt out by hands of the beautiful and sadistic Samantha. Sometime during this interval my hope of escape began to fade, and a will to survive at any cost became of paramount importance. The carefree and defiant girl who had boarded the plane in Anchorage was no more. Instead I existed at the whim of others, my life no longer my own…the most rudimentary functions of my daily passing dictated by those who held the key to my Box. Finally and at long last, my bruises faded, and I was removed from The Box for the last time. On this day Tony took me to the small, tiled bathroom that I had become so accustomed to using for my ablutions and toilet functions, and turned me over to Samantha for my final preparation. "Have her finished by six," he said, turning on the hose once more. "I'll be bringing him by to look her over at 6:30, and I want her ready." Nervously, I glanced from one to the other, wondering what all of this meant, but knowing that to ask would mean a punishment that I wished to avoid. Instead, my attention became focussed on the slow smile that crept across Samantha's face, the look of triumph in her eyes that could only mean disaster for me. I had been placed in her hands…and I was now hers to do with as she wished. Fearfully, my gaze dropped to the floor as Tony closed the door behind him and left me in Samantha's care. "We have a lot of work to do to get you in shape," she murmured, circling my naked form… caressing the quivering flesh of my breasts with her long and chilled fingers. "Yes," she repeated, tweaking my nipple painfully, "….a lot to do." Then, aiming the hose at my body, she watched the cold water sluice over my shivering flesh as it had so many instances before. This time, however, she had brought a chair into the room, and now sat idly by watching my discomfiture as she aimed the spray at my intimate areas, knowing that I dare not shield myself any longer. Finally, apparently bored with her momentary diversion, she watched as I shampooed my hair, then tossed me a tube of almond shower gel, and bid me to begin lathering myself with the aromatic concoction. Her eyes narrowed as I charged my palms and began to circle my taut nipples, her tongue wetting her lower lip, her free hand slipping beneath the hem of her skirt as she splayed her legs for me to see. She remained in her seat until I reached the juncture of my thighs, then rose, and taking something from the area of the sink, approached where I stood against the tiled wall. Reaching for the shower gel, she squirted a small puddle into her palm, then began to lather my pussy with sensuous and probing motions until a thick head of lather appeared and the excess foam was running down my thighs. "Squat," she ordered, handing me a small safety razor, "…and shave it. Don't miss anything, and no nicks!" Then, rinsing her hand in the water from the hose, she turned and settled into her seat to gauge my performance. Slowly I slid to the floor, my thighs parted, my hand trembling as I carefully scraped the area around my sex bare for the first time since puberty. I worked diligently for about ten minutes, then finally, and with great relief I was done, and my pink lips shown between my slit like the genitals of a prepubescent girl. Samantha, rising once more, approached and ran her fingers between my thighs, checking for anything that might have been overlooked in my inexperience. Then, nodding her approval, she smiled. This was the moment she'd been waiting for, apparently, for now her eyes gleamed with sadistic anticipation as she forced me to my knees, my breasts upon the cold tile floor…hips in the air, and ordered me to spread my legs. I quivered, but I'd learned long ago that to disobey would only bring on greater displeasure, and ultimately the threat of punishment. And so, wordlessly, I acquiesced. It was then that Samantha retrieved the shower gel from the floor and dropped to her knees beside my shivering body. "You're going to love this," she whispered menacingly into my ear as she shoved the opened tube far into my newly shaved sex, squeezing half of the gooey contents deep inside of my vulnerable core. Then, withdrawing it rapidly, she parted my buttocks and forced the tube painfully past the tight ring of muscle and deep into my narrower passage, emptying the remainder into my body with animated glee. "This is where it gets good," she crooned, taking the hose once more into her right hand. And with that, she turned the water pressure up to a brutal intensity and jammed it deeply between my shaven lips, laughing hysterically as I screamed in pain. "Hold still!" she ordered as I squirmed in agony, the cutting stream tearing at my insides like the teeth of a buzz saw. Then, placing her knee in the center of my back, she suddenly removed the offending object, leaving me cringing on the floor beneath her. I howled in dread as I remembered where the other half of the gel had been deposited, and had just begun to whimper a plea for mercy when I felt my buttocks roughly parted and the nozzle of the hose forcibly penetrating the tight, tender bud of my anus. The pain was excruciating! Over and over my screams filled the air of the small room, my agony unsurpassed… her pleasure immeasurable, until finally it was all over and I lay almost unconscious upon the bathroom floor in the aftermath of my torment. Samantha rose at that point, and removing my collar and cuffs, she indicated a hair dryer and towel on the wash basin… directing me to dry myself and meet her in the main room at the metal table upon which I had experienced so much during my imprisonment. Then, turning, she walked from the room, leaving me to my own devices. Dimly I lay there, awash in a sea of pain and desperation and watched as a bug skittered across the floor by my cheek. Was his existence any better than mine, I wondered as I brought my palm down with a smack and took his life. If only my own could be over as quickly, I found myself thinking… one smack, and I would never find myself in fear again. But it was not to be. Already Samantha was waiting for yet another trial to being, and I had to hurry or face the consequences of my tardiness. Still in pain, and aching from every pore, I rose and began to dry myself as I'd been directed…wondering how much my fragile existence could endure My abuse, while tortuous and traumatic, had left no visible evidence, and as I stared into the grimy mirror of the small tiled room, I saw no tell-tale sign to mark my passage from innocence to degradation. I was amazed…how could that be? Amy, she who bore my youthful naivete was gone, of that I was sure…and in her place stood a woman for whom the essence of life was survival itself. And then I saw it…an almost imperceptible change…a hardness about the eyes that had never been there before. No longer wide-eyed with wonder, my gaze now held a guardedness that hadn't existed during my carefree days at school…but there it was. If the eye is indeed the window to the soul, then mine was now broken and desperate… stripped and left naked. Quickly I completed my task and hurried into the outer room where Samantha awaited me, her lithe body resting on a straight-backed chair, a small teakwood box in her lap. She tapped her toe impatiently in the air. It's about time!" she chastised. "We have work to do here…and it's almost 5:00 already!" Swiftly, she rose from her seat and began to circle me, apparently assessing what needed to be done. Then, satisfied that I was suitable to proceed, she sat once again and opened her small wooden box. "Approach," she commanded, her eyes bright with what was to come. "Stand here." Silently, she opened her legs and bid me to stand between them…so close that I could feel her warm breath on my flesh. I cringed…a response not lost on one so debauched. She laughed. "You're shivering my Dear…and I haven't even begun! One would almost think that you found my touch repulsive!" And with that she reached into her small chest and retrieved a tiny vial of amber-colored liquid. "Well…" she murmured, dipping her tongue into my navel, "…then I guess I'm the only one who's going to enjoy this…aren't I?" She smiled, a cold expression that never touched her eyes, and placed the box on the metal table to her right. Immediately, she proceeded to remove the stopper from the teardrop-shaped vial and the scent of jasmine filled the air, transforming the aura of the room into something delicate and exotic. "MMM…Nice," she murmured dabbing a drop on her fingertip. "Now lets see…where shall I begin?" Her eyes caressed my body, and finally came to rest on the pulsing hollow of my throat. "Here, perhaps," she began, her finger dabbing seductively within the gently throbbing indentation. "Yes…that's a good spot, I think….and here," she added, her long nail wetly tracing the outline of my right nipple. "Let me see your hands, "she ordered, waiting as I exposed the soft pale flesh to her gaze. "Yes…here as well…that's good...and of course we can't forget here…open your legs, Dear." Trembling slightly, I opened myself to her and immediately felt the press of her finger deep inside of me…probing… anointing…greedily insinuating itself in a place where it had no right to be. Dimly, I heard the sharp intake of her breath and closed my eyes. "I like you shaved, " she whispered, her thumb stroking the newly bared petals of my sex. "It's too bad you weren't more…cooperative. I'd have bought you myself…" Bought? Was this what was to become of me? Was I to be sold again…like an animal…like a piece of meat? Was this the cause of these preparations? Inwardly I shuddered. My life here had become a living hell…but it was a hell I knew. If I were sold… Turning back to the teakwood box, Samantha now removed what appeared to be a collar and cuffs…restraints…strong with the substructure of leather, but with the soft superficial allure of black velvet. Into each piece was set a heavy metal ring and steel lanyards by which they could be attached, if so desired. I shuddered. Up until now, I had been bound only during punishment. Was my fate this night to be so horrific as to require forcible submission? Quickly, Samantha buckled on the restraints, then ordering me to turn, she once more bound my wrists together behind my back and attached the short leash. My muscles revolted, cramping as the yolk was tightened…bowing my spine and thrusting my breasts outward…wrenching my hands between my shoulder blades as she painfully connected them to my collar, "Bend over, 'Little One. I need to see that nice, tight pink bud of yours." she motioned, her hands gliding over my hips as though I were unable to execute the maneuver without her physical guidance.