1 comments/ 23743 views/ 0 favorites Leak Ch. 01 By: NastyPierre by NastyPierre & colleen Chapter One: Greeding I shall reveal to you the most unimaginable tale of woe ever conceived, a story of perversion. It is one of grief and overwhelming anguish woven into a fabric of sorrow. The fabric is worn by Mother Nature's own manifestation of surrender, a virgin without equal, Laura. I shall begin my story behind the ivied granite walls of the magnificent six hundred and sixty-nine room fortress, Chateau Paines Manor. Its twenty-three hundred acre estate is nestled ingeniously, high atop the steep man-made terraces of the otherwise jagged Black Mountains. It's a secluded citadel located in the southwest corner of North Carolina, at an elevation of fifty-seven hundred feet. From its side of the mountain the chateau has a splendid view, a panorama if you'll imagine. Let's begin in the north with Mount Mitchell, a majestic peak rising to sixty-seven hundred feet. This natural rock pinnacle is covered in beautiful spruce pine, a wondrous rolling sea of greens, or ocean of white snow. To the west and in the distance, the Appalachian Mountain Range crinkles by. It's an old gash with a long scar healing slowly on the bosom of mother earth. Its pearl, the Great Smoky Mountains, floats on its own sea of bluish gray clouds. It's a dreamlike scene from an almost unreal place. To the south, at a greater distance, one can see the steeply rising Orchard Mountains, and on a clear day, all the way to Montgomery, Alabama. This eighth wonder of the world was planned and built by the late Mr. Bigg Paines. He was a fire and brimstone bible thumping women's undergarment tycoon, libertine and insatiable voyeur. He died quite unexpectedly at the age of one hundred and thirteen. It happened while locked together with his female companion and wet nurse, in a complicated sexual position invented by the Chinese about 500 BC. His last breath was his granddaughter's first. His granddaughter, Laura, was born in her mother's bed, on that unseasonably cold and storm-laden night of April first, nineteen hundred sixty-nine. She emerged twixt a blinding flash of lightening, a deafening roar of thunder and the last gasp of her grandfather, Bigg Paines, before the end of midnight's first chime and morning's first moment. Keeping with a faith practiced by half the world's perverts, Laura was baptized. She was christened, Laura 'Lottsa' Paines, by Father Fransic Balonni. This sixty-nine year old ex-communicated Catholic priest was the toe-sucking slave to Laura's mother, the late Mrs. Betsey Paines. Laura was christened in October, baptized in the wonderfully dank chapel of Saint Judas Iscariot. The chapel is situated deep in the mountain, somewhere under the chateau. It serves as the entranceway to the winding catacombs of the Black Mountains and Paines Manor. Reele Paines and the late Betsey are Laura's parents. Reele is the late Mr. Bigg Paines only acknowledged male offspring. He's a devilishly handsome spoiled brat and utter cur, born with several silver spoons jammed down his throat and a silver butt plug jammed up you know where. He's had every worthless little thing handed to him from immense silver platters, supported and transported on the crooked backs of naked female peons. Indifferent to everyone, Reele is impassive with women, a drunkard and incurable gambler. You will find him lounging about at horse races and living in the gambling casinos of the world. He's dressed and scented by valets of impeccable taste, but is a connoisseur of revelry in his own right. Though he often can't find his way out of a john without help, he's a famous world traveler. He lives in denial and total excess, off the large trust funds left him by his father. Reele never knew his wife Betsey and met her only a few times. The first time was on their wedding day, the night Laura was conceived. Reele simply married when it was expected of him, meeting Betsey at the altar. While his mind wandered with the carelessness of a teenager, he closed his eyes and proceeded as father planned. He went through every motion and helped with conception. He fulfilled all obligations, and then disappeared as if nothing happened. Betsey Paines, nee Betsey Parton, was the daughter of Abigail Von Parton, a well poised but deeply passionate woman. Abigail came from a very old and established family from Kentucky. It was a family of haughty aristocrats, early settlers, freedom loving moonshiners and colorful statesmen. Abigail just happened to be one of Bigg Paines favorite mistresses, and together they spent many months, years, in deliciously scandalous debauchery within the comfortable confines of Paines Manor. Betsey considered herself a love child, a soiled flower, a weed in the Garden of Eden and lucky as sin. Like many females born to Paines Manor, Betsey grew up on its ether, in a dream, a fairy tale. She learned to dread venturing from the comforts and safety of its surroundings. Her fears endured through eighteen years of tender care and continued after she'd answered the door of opportunity. It was the 'tap-tap' of destiny and Betsey swung the portal open on the first knock. Then and there, without hesitation, she accepted Mr. Bigg Paines' unbeatable offer. She would marry his son Reele and bear him a grandson, or die trying. In reality, she delivered a granddaughter he'd never see. After that, her life became sweet and messy. Betsey died quite capriciously, while caught in the throes of passion. It was during one of her many secret trysts, with one of her many clandestine lovers. She developed the habit of acquiring and discarding men like shoes whenever Reele was absent, which was always. Seems Betsey was on her knees, in her favorite position, praying to Eros. It was the gardener this time that bucked and bobbed in her grasp while fidgeting around at his work. Betsey was looking forward to drowning in the mother of all orgasms, when the giant earthmover of a man suffered a charley horse of sorts. The very muscle Betsey devoured with so much greed exploded in spasms of violence and pain. The killer root lodged in her throat, suffocating the poor woman before its owner could extricate himself. This was on Christmas Day, nineteen hundred eighty-four. Betsey was buried on the first of January, in Barabbas Cemetery. The cemetery, like all the grounds, is beautifully manicured and well kept. It's situated on a small shaded terrace along the lower east forty acres of this vast mountain estate. Betsey had left Laura, her poor bewildered daughter, alone and at the mercy of wolves. A frightened child left teetering on the wrong side of a dark abyss, without a light, answers, or means of escape. Alas, poor Laura. Every horny fellow and madam who's heard of her loss wishes to possess this sweet delicious fifteen year old, alone with no knowledge of the world, its vices, lurking dangers and grotesque avenues. She's an innocent child in dire need of a mother's gentle advice now more than ever before, while adrift on a stormy sea of anguish and doubt. Laura was left alone to her own devices and those consisted of prayer. So she prayed as never before. She prayed day and night, through every meal, round laughter and tears, while relaxed and while nervous. She prayed and she prayed again and again, and always for the same thing. She prayed to be saved by a real life fairy tale knight in shining armor. She prayed for a conqueror who would appear out of nowhere riding a noble white charger that snorted aloud and galloped to thunder. A champion who'd rescue her from the cold, lift her from where she now knelt stunned and immobile, just a very small step from womanhood. She kept her hand extended for her hero to find, as she floundered alone in an ever changing array of emotional melee. She prayed while being sucked into a black hole devoted to extinguishing life. Problems aside, Laura's an authentic southern belle, plucked from the pages of Gone With the Wind, complete with the cutest southern drawl. She's a delicate flower petal of femininity, a whisper of a thing. She has long shimmering golden blond hair, brilliantly translucent green eyes and a tiny cut of a mouth with small thin lips, soft fillets in salmon pink. She has a dainty point of a nose and peaches and cream complexion. At just over five foot tall, Laura is a sleek slender creature, a frail object you could easily break. Her long limbs taper into thin delicate wrists and ankles. Now, before your imagination writes this lady off as a twig, rest assured she is yet a deliciously majestic figure. And that's because this poor girl's petite torso has been created by the masculine god of her religion. A maybe jealous, but surely devilish deity who's endowed her with a big round bouncy behind and an extremely firm, overly proportioned pair of breasts. The poor child carries these massive attributes around in noticeably piquant trepidation. In and around the Manor, when you meant to say, "tits and ass," you said "Laura." For fifteen years Laura had been overly protected, kept safe and sound. She'd been wrapped in bliss, ignorance and a false sense of security, sheltered from the cruelties of real life. While hidden from Mr. Vulgarity's titillating warm embrace, Laura's languished more comfortably than any other person in history. Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile, couldn't have had it better. Laura's lived in a very pretty world of the finest everything. She's enjoyed the most exotic flowers and most exquisite foods. Her clothing is hand-stitched finery of imported silks, chiffons, wools, satins and lace. Even her servants and handmaidens were chosen because they were born to serve. And the entire time she has lived as a prisoner in a large gilded cage of a room, under the authority of her mother's iron thumb, somewhere within the confines of Paines Manor. As a mother Betsey was stern, and raised her sworn virgin daughter to be poised, graceful and polite. She'd taught her to be feminine beyond all measure and unfortunately for Laura, obedient without question. Obedient without question or fault, and as pure and blameless as a newborn lamb. In this way, Betsey had hoped to preserve in her daughter, for her daughter and through her daughter, that which she herself had surrendered so many years earlier. 'Twas harsh repentance and a hopeless endeavor by a desperate hypocrite who hoped to provide her daughter the opportunity of meeting and marrying a real, hard working man. A gentleman who would appreciate, love, honor, and care for her daughter by providing her a real home, raising normal children. A family man, in a down to earth family neighborhood, far, far, far from Paines Manor's gentle intoxication. But now, Laura is to be pitied. She is one of a multitude stuck to a strange web. She's one of life's unfortunate victims, awaiting the spider and its casing, a cocoon from which none escape. She's left with a father she's never known, virtually without family and definitely without friends. She's lost somewhere in a giant fortress she knows nothing about, catered to by troops of faceless, nameless servants. Her continuing situation leaves little reason to seek answers, though she did at first. She tried venturing from her room a couple of times, but each time found herself followed continually. She was harassed by very aggressive individuals who thought nothing of approaching her while speaking in vulgarities she had no understanding of. She never ventured from her room a third time. Left with no other choice, Laura was forced on her father, the aloof, arrogant, give-a-damn Reele. Reele had neither the time, the appetite nor inclination to help, and came up with the easiest remedy he and his buddies could think of on the spur of the moment. It was only natural of Reele to act this way whenever he found himself burdened with what he considered an extremely bothersome task. The only difference was, this time the responsibility was thrust on him by his father's very powerful attorneys. Though he was forced to consider the problem and legal constraints, his mind stayed half way around the world, moving about constantly. The simplest answer for Reele was his sick aunt, Thelma. Though he was scared to death of her and always had been, everyone agreed the old crone would never pass up such a splendid opportunity, and the lawyers would imagine he'd made an honest attempt. Everything would be over by tomorrow and he'd be off to Monte Carlo. It was a perfect plan, and a messenger was sent to Thelma's room, while Laura was notified as well. Leak Ch. 02 Chapter Two: Tears for Two All fears are learned, taught without good reason, and irrational. The unknown ignites suspicions, fears and hatred in men. Problem is, almost everything does. Laura'd never met her father's aunt and for good reason. She could remember her mom mentioning the woman a couple times, maybe three times in all their years together, and the recollection of those moments still sent a shiver up her spine. On each occasion the name was blurted out with alarm, and rancor. Her mom may have intended for it to go over Laura's head, but it didn't. Instead, it made a lasting imprint and Laura learned to fear a person she'd never met. Now she was saturated in suspense, bound to the anxiety of that earlier age. Hatred was, of course, an impossible alternative for this sweet innocent child. Frightened and sobbing uncontrollably, Laura acted out of desperation and darted for the elevator leading to her father's penthouse. She then ran the short distance to his study and tapped lightly on the door. She took a breath, made to snivel instead of cry, and entered politely. Though she'd rarely been allowed entrance, it was a warm cozy den that left a lasting impression, and she discovered little changed. It had a high ceiling, the finest wood paneling and deep bookcases that reached to the sky. The shelves were crammed with books and a layer of dust so thick it looked like freshly fallen snow. Her eyes found and lingered on the single window still draped in material of royal blue that glowed to the sun's light. To her right was a chair and large desk littered with the appropriate items- a lamp, a notebook, papers, pens, and such. Before her, across the distance of a Persian rug, was another door, probably to her father's more private rooms. The light was sufficient and she found her dad sitting in a chair to the left. Laura wiped another tear from her eye, and moved through a room dominated by male aromas of cedar and lingering spices. She moved through a masculine world and stepped up to the cold beast posing as a father. Without so much as a glance from him, Laura fell to her knees and hoping to melt a heart of stone, began blubbering in despair. "Oh please father... oh please," she sputtered nervously while staring at her own hand between stolen glances of him. "How can you be so cruel? Am I not your own flesh and blood? Am I not?" Though hysterical, she sobbed with control and hoped for the best. Even when in despair this poor girl could do little more then whimper, but Reele never moved. In desperate attempts for a response, Laura began tugging nervously on a small crease between two folds in the fabric of her father's trousers. She pulled along its length in gentle pleas for some recognition. Looking up, she sought bearing from the stone sire, a glimmer of light, a star from which she could navigate. Any slight acknowledgment would suffice, but she searched in vain, her gentle siege accomplishing nothing. Laura realized all was for naught and decided to leave before causing more of a problem. Dejected, she bowed her head and made to rise and run away, until she felt it. The cold breeze filled the room in a rush, along with a foul wind. It moved, he moved, Reele moved. He'd been sitting back, burrowed into the plush leather cushioning of his over-stuffed walnut armchair, from the Italian Renaissance. He was enjoying the taste of an imported hand-rolled Cuban cigar. His eyes were following the smoke's curvaceous, swirling, gently expanding plumes into Einstein's world of an ever expanding universe, and the odds of playing to an inside straight. He looked down at the figure on its knees before him like one would an annoying insect and rolled his eyes. Appearing bemused and being the foul-natured cur he is, he began a long boring dissertation. His blabber was unintentionally meant to boggle the confused minds of the foolish and the clear minds of the innocent. "Girl..." Reele began. "Huh," Laura returned in a stunned way. "...Er, daughter..." he continued carelessly. "Laura," the sweet fifteen year old choked out in a sputtering offer of disbelief, in reaction to his ignorance. She was introducing herself to a stranger. Yes, a total stranger! Her own father did not remember her name and likely never knew it. For sure he'd never keep it in mind. How cruel, heartless and cold, how bleak her world became. How ominous indeed, as the long heavy veil of loneliness blackened the sky, engulfing her in darkness. Laura knelt in tears before a man who continued spewing meaningless dribble. As if clearing his conscience with the aid of rationalizations, he drove her mind to run and hide. With despair and hopelessness, her brain slammed the psychic doors of awareness and reason closed, locking them shut. Unconcerned, her father continued between puffs of smoke. "You need to understand... 'Laura', did you say? Yes, Laura... and yes... Mmmmm where was I... yes, yes... you need to understand..." Her father droned on without thinking of what he was saying, as Laura listened without hearing. The poor girl had given up trying to understand what he was saying, and prayed for deliverance. She'd come up to complain, to meet and to beg. She'd come to ask forgiveness without knowing why, or from what. What had she done to deserve this sudden terrible change? Things were happening so quickly, so soon after her mom's death, that she was overcome. All she could do was cry, and pray. As suddenly as he began, Reele finished. Though he'd muttered nothing coherent he ceased his oration, took a puff, and smiled in smug satisfaction. He then said good night and ordered the girl to act her age, go to her room and behave herself, which she did as if in a trance. With knees weak and head bowed, Laura exited, leaving a trail of tears in her wake. Laura's life was becoming a nightmare, a long scary road. It was not a winding, gently curving yellow brick road, but a narrow and straight forkless road. She'd find no talking scarecrow in need of a brain here, nor companions willing to help her find a wizard. Mr. Reele Paines watched the door close behind his daughter and then rose to his feet. He walked to a nearby shelf, picked up a decanter and poured himself a glass of Scotch. "Fucking brat, just like her fucking mom," he hissed to himself. "Now where's Thelma, that wicked witch, Thelma!" Leak Ch. 03 Chapter Three: Thelma Rottenbutski Like all 'Paines', Reele's aunt Thelma was provided a magnificent penthouse somewhere in the upper levels of the manor. It wasn't the very top, because she was an adopted family member and the youngest Paines. But in Mr. Badd's eyes, she'd always been as important as Bigg. She's a crude swinish woman, who looked like a street fighter and back alley brawler, yet came on like a sweet old lady, everyone's favorite grandmother. Reele feared, more than hated her. She appeared to be in her late fifties, but Reele knew she was older. She kept the last name of her late husband just to irk the other Paines'. Reele sent for Laura once Thelma arrived. Thelma's an intimidating woman at six feet tall, with broad shoulders. A heavily stocked matron with a big mouth, rough worried features and mildly callous hands. Her general roughness is in sharp contrast to her lush black hair, which she wore brushed back and piled neatly in a tight bun atop her head. She was an eccentric, dressed in a gray English tweed suit, snug and sharp as a tack. It was clean and crisp, and as severe as her expressions and tone. Everything about her bothered Reele but he stuck to the business at hand. Auntie Thelma knew what it was she was being offered and controlled her temper because of it. Laura was her brother's, the late Bigg Paines, luscious granddaughter, the one everyone was talking about. Thelma had been adopted by Bigg's father, the powerful Mr. Badd Paines, a year before Paines Manor was erected. Thelma had hated Bigg and saw this a fitting finale to their sibling rivalry. Laura was the Manor's precious princess and would fit in nicely with her plans. Thelma was short with her frightened nephew, explicit and very loud. Before Laura arrived, she'd cowed the poor man, who wanted nothing to do with the woman to begin with. Laura balked as she entered her father's study to meet her great aunt and future governess. She was dumbfounded by such a frightfully garish woman whose appearance commanded attention. Thelma's eyes exploded with flashes, not unlike those produced by camera bulbs ignighted by eager photographers. They nearly popped from their sockets and her heart began beating faster and harder then ever before. When she saw Laura, she saw her 'Blue Ribbon' and realized her prayers had been answered. Like an asp with an apple, she approached the trembling teenager seductively, with a keen sense of the girl's unease. She was sly, evil, pure serpentine. She smiled broadly and began talking to Laura as a kindly mother might, with an even, quiet tone. She asked generic questions, touching on subjects she couldn't have cared less about, education, hobbies and such, calming fears and affording the child an extremely false sense of security. In moments things were progressing to Thelma's satisfaction, and Laura was lulled back to her world of fantasy. The teen sensed neither the unmitigated guile, nor the dangers lurking behind the woman's forced sweetness. Laura's fears were brushed aside by Thelma's manipulations of innocence. Laura found herself quite taken by the glib silver-tongued woman and almost at ease. Like a timid mouse after a bit of peanut butter, she cautiously stepped up to a well-placed trap, unaware of its nature. From some distant place only Reele could hear, the starting gun went off and someone yelled, "place your bets please." So eagerly blinded by selfish desires was Mr. Paines, he didn't take notice of Thelma's twin sons standing in the shadows. Actually he wished not to, because the less he had to do with his aunt the better. The boys were off to the side waiting quietly, but alert. These two rouges were genuine imps if there ever were, demons who'd slipped under the walls of Hades. Yet they followed an almost abnormal obedience, a military style regime, when around their mother, or whenever she so much as looked in their direction. One wouldn't say they behaved so out of fear, but rather out of an unusual eagerness and pride. Laura's extremely graceful beauty and breath-taking attributes were not wasted on these two. Like a couple starving vultures sitting in wait on the crooked limb of a nearby tree, they watched their prey's every movement. They studied her every breath, every blink, every nervous twitch, in wide-eyed salivating enthusiasm. They waited for a peek at something, anything, hoping to simply catch the girl's glance, as their hands busied themselves on what appeared to be thick Genoa salamis stuffed down their pants. Standing behind them was another extremely interesting creature Mr. Paines chose to also ignore, Fifi. Fifi stood behind the boys, silent, poised and bald. She's thirty years of age, blind and mute, almost five foot tall, pleasingly plump and very playful looking. She has a round sullen face, thick pouty lips and an olive brown complexion. She wore a well starched maid's uniform. It was snow white and trimmed with yards of lace, obviously tailored to her body, leaving her voluptuous form well-accented. One couldn't help noticing, while admiring the utter size of her breasts, their weight dragging them down to below her waist. Each nipple strained to push through the milk-soaked satin material, which molded to each mammary like a tight rubber glove. She also wore a pair of dainty white laced gloves that came to her wrists, a wide lacy neck collar and a pair of outrageously steep white high heeled pumps, sans nylons or undergarments. Her nose was pierced and threaded with a small silver ring. Thelma had met and befriended the woman about seven years earlier, helping her escape an abusive deaf mother. It's not hard to feel sorry for the late Mr. Bigg Paines granddaughter. But like good Christians slaughtering American natives, rounding up slaves, or flocking to enjoy a good old fashioned hanging..., Or like Puritans who enjoy watching people stripped naked, jabbed with pitch forks and burned alive while tied to a stake... Or like newspapers and television reports that thrive on depravity, lies and injustice for sustenance: feeling sorry for anyone is just that... feeling sorry. Hey! Too bad, tough luck, we're Americans and don't give a damn about anyone until they're dead. The excitement and thrills received from watching another suffer are beyond human comprehension. It's an unreachable itch caused by a genetic flaw in human DNA that transcends all reason and all religionist precepts. It pervades all politically correct systems and what little value they possess, all nationalities, all men and all women alike. So let's enjoy Laura's suffering, shall we? Reele was itching to escape, working his way to the door, nodding in approval and agreeing to every demand made by Thelma. By the time Reele had disappeared out of the door, even poor Laura realized she had been given away, passed off to this strange woman. She'd been handed off like a piece of jewelry, a trinket or some worthless curio, and saw no alternative. As Reele made some last minute preparations, Thelma Rottenbutski, her two boys, along with Fifi and a very saddened Laura, strolled off to Laura's room. The ogling crowd Laura had found following before were absent, replaced with the less obvious, but more curious peekers. Laura didn't want to look at the boys, who already revolted and embarrassed her. But in the elevator, as the group descended, her childlike curiosity and the boys' heckling caused her to steal a quick glance in their direction. She turned her head in shame when she found them lifting the skirt of the blind mute, revealing the maid's nakedness. She listened to them slap the big behind and wondered why Thelma did nothing. After exiting the lift, Thelma found a room for her boys and Fifi, just down the hall from Laura's. Much to Laura's sadness, Thelma decided to occupy Betsey's old room, which adjoined both hers and the boys'. Leak Ch. 04 Laura had closed the door to her room and paced until she collapsed onto her bed in a state of panic. Her poor mind was filling with the nastiest images and most confusing thoughts. Nothing made sense and she couldn't imagine what was to become of her, and didn't want to try though she couldn't stop. The world was crumbling in around her and then it exploded. Thelma entered Laura's very pretty and extremely private world abruptly. She came charging uninvited through the door between their rooms catching Laura by surprise. In a bellowing voice she ordered the startled girl, who was lying curled in a tight ball on her bed sobbing, to the middle of the room. "Up princess! Get up right this second and stand over there," she roared while pointing to the spot. "Stand right there! And stand erect, with arms at your sides!" In shocked hesitating movements, Laura obeyed, as Thelma urged her on with another shout. Poor Laura found the authoritative voice impossible to ignore, much less disobey. She proceeded as expected and lowered her eyes under woman's weighted gaze. Once in place, Thelma approached her like an alien invader and while scanning, took a slow orbit around the trembling figure. Thelma admired Laura's substantial bosom and round behind, apparent even under pink chiffon. In this bewildered young adult, Thelma saw something wondrous. Not only would Thelma pay Biggs back by punishing Laura, Laura was to be her ticket to stardom. Every one of Thelma's dreams was about to come true. Laura, who wavered on the verge of becoming a butterfly, was about to have her immature wings plucked. But first, Thelma intended to enjoy Laura in this larva stage, as a grub kept under foot, a caterpillar on a stick in a jar on a shelf. Here was a plaything awaiting examination, ripe and ready to be poked and prodded. The ogress controlled her desire to reach out and touch, to grab a handful of this frightened animal's smooth pristine flesh, simply to verify what she knew to be true. She took a breath in hopes of calming down and decided to wait until the girl's father left Paines Manor. She felt that wise, though it was true she'd been granted complete authority over this splendid creature. Thelma then shocked Laura again, by asking in a crude but gentle manner, if she was yet a virgin. "Ma'am..." Laura blurted out thinking she'd misheard the woman. A quick glance told her otherwise, and she answered in a sputteringly quiet, embarrassingly tiny voice. "Yes, ma'am." She was visibly disconcerted by such blunt inquisition. Thelma, gloating inside, frowned sternly and demanded the timid girl speak up, and Laura started again. She fidgeted, swallowed hard, and bit her lip nervously, knowing she had no other choice. "Yes ma'am," she again stammered, not yet to Thelma's satisfaction. Thelma handed to Laura a beautifully decorated sheet of parchment, framed in smooth shiny black leather. "Miss Paines," Thelma said in a somewhat calmer voice, as Laura took and held the frame in both hands. "I expect you to answer all my questions in a clear voice and loud enough for me to hear. Am I making myself clear?" Thelma moved her face closer to Laura's and raised her voice again. "Do you understand what I am saying?" Laura was taken back and looked up at the woman with eyes wide. "Yes ma'am," came Laura's reply, the words rolling off her cute southern tongue in a nervously brave attempt to please. Thelma stood tall and made to tower over the smaller figure, and with intent most wicked, continued her assault. "Now..." Thelma said while glaring down at the girl, indicating the framed parchment. "...These are the rules. The ones you will follow from this day forward. Recite each of them to me in a clear voice." Thelma stopped only long enough to put her hands on her hips and expand her chest. "And speak loud enough for me to hear, this time." With a perturbed look, Thelma stepped back and waited for the poor child to begin. Laura brought the plaque up while clearing her eyes and throat. But she was too slow for Thelma. "Well" the hag shouted in anger. Laura jumped, nearly dropping the plaque. "I'm waiting young lady!" Laura's eyes rose and fell to the words, in quick movements. "Yes ma'am," Laura offered with a gulp. She began reciting aloud the words written on the parchment. "Rule number one: I will be obedient at all times. I will never hesitate to obey, nor question an order." Laura swallowed the words in a moment's reflection, thinking the words absurd. Disobedience was simply out of the question for her. She looked up to Thelma for approval and found the old woman glaring. Thelma nodded for Laura to continue. "Rule number two: I will never speak unless spoken to." Here again she found nothing unusual. Her mother had taught her to never speak unless spoken to, so she continued. "Rule number three: I may never..." Laura's words broke in mid-sentence, her mouth falling open, eyes darting to Thelma's. The woman's intimidating expression chased Laura back to the parchment and she was compelled to continue in a softer voice, her body flushed in newfound warmth. She'd never thought of these things before and tried wondering about the meaning of the words. "...I may never touch myself in any way, at any time, without permission." Laura finished with a gulp, the words leaving her in stuttering confusion, crimsoned-cheeked and dazed. "Miss Paines," Thelma bellowed in a voice Laura would come to fear. "I feel it my duty as your governess, your mother and your trainer, to keep you informed. In fairness to both of us, I must tell you of the punishments for breaking any of these rules." Thelma was iterating her words with care, and flourishing each with punctuations meant to provide the greatest effect. Laura kept her eyes lowered and listened. "If you're caught disobeying me, you will receive spankings or whippings as needed. They will be administered by hand, paddle and birch rod, or whatever implement I deem suitable." She brought her face closer to Laura's and almost whispered. "You'll be surprised at the outrageous instruments I can find. You can rest assured Miss Paines." Laura paled to terrible visions evoked by Thelma's words. Her immature mind was a virgin wilderness, fertile and yet incapable of understanding corruption. Faintness came to her, and a deep-seated need to hide. She was caught between fear and confusion, left unable to understand the simplest of thoughts. Her mind became as shaky and unsteady as her knees, as Thelma went on as loud as before. "I will not tolerate even the slightest infraction of any rule. Note this well young lady, I mean business!" Thelma caught Laura stealing a quick glance and continued the assault. "And yes, there will be more rules for you to follow in the future. In fact, your life will become a book of rules. Rules for you to learn, to memorize and follow at all times. You will no longer have time to think of anything else. This is the life I have chosen for you, your destiny." Deep down inside, where Thelma hadn't yet penetrated, Laura was screaming her lungs out. Here she wailed in desperation and spun in complete bewilderment, while a small piece of her struggled to stay in Thelma's terrible world, alert. Sub-consciously, she listened to the voice of her new governess, her new mother, this dreadful woman who'd come out of nowhere. Like a lightening bolt from heaven this monster appeared, snatched her from life and took over. Through thoughts most frightening, Laura heard her name shouted. "Miss Paines! Miss Paines! Miss Paines!" Laura found Thelma yelling in her face, the words hitting her as gusts of hot wind. She was yanked back to reality, as if from a daydream and looked up long enough to apologize. "Sorry ma'am," Laura offered, only to be rewarded with a stinging slap across her face. It came with Thelma's right palm and sent her reeling to the side and back, knocking her off balance. She tumbled onto her bed, landing face up. "Ma'am," Laura queried in a squeak, her hands moving instinctively to her face with aid and comfort. Thelma moved quickly to stand over the cowering figure, as Laura's hands touched the warm cheek. She leaned over the frightened girl and slapped again. First the right cheek, then the left, Thelma slapped with the palm and the back of her hand, again and again, and again. "Daydreaming while I attempt to explain something important to you! Touching yourself! Touching your cheek without permission! You just read the goddamn rules, ya stupid bimbo! How dare you! How dare you," Thelma shrieked, spraying her words directly down into Laura's face. Her own face was red with anger, eyes bulging with hatred, and Laura saw a beast. Laura dropped her arms to her sides immediately, the prisoner of a fairy tale dragon. A princess recently plucked from the safety of mommy's castle. Laura caught the monster's hot breath on her flushed cheeks, breathing in a foul odor. Its words rained down on her in a warning she took seriously. She felt the fire and sensed the creature's ability to breathe it. Surely she was to be kept in a high tower, there for the pleasure of the dragon. But what is it the dragon wants of her? What do lady dragons want? And where, oh where is her fairytale knight in shining armor? 'Where indeed', Laura thought, blinking through tear flooded eyes. "Tonight you will receive your first punishment and I hope and pray for both our sakes, it will be your last," Thelma screamed further. Laura's mouth fell open in disbelief. The dragon then calmed down, its eyes returning to normal. Thelma's cool returned and her attitude changed completely. She began speaking to Laura again like a concerned mother. "Come, come now," the kindly old woman said. Her hand reached down to comfort the girl's red cheeks and she acted as if nothing had happened. "You're a big girl now and everything I do, everything I expect and everything I will take from you, is for your own good. I know it isn't easy being a young lady in this crazy world now days. Life takes a certain type of character. The type of character I will help you develop. You'll see. I hope you understand," she stated with confidence, as if Laura was expected to consider otherwise. Laura nodded readily, as if in understanding, afraid to think, speak or feel anything other then what Thelma wished at that moment. Thelma looked down on a tender morsel with just enough self-control. "Good girl," the old woman said proudly. "Very good girl. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. Now let me dry your tears and we'll hurry downstairs to see your dear father off." Thelma used one of her thick dry fingers to sop up Laura's tears, then ran it between her own lips and smiled. After a few wipes Thelma smacked her lips, licked them clean and made to rise. Laura struggled to stand with Thelma's help. "Mmmmm. That's it, like a good girl now," Thelma said, bringing Laura to her feet. She finished drying the girl's face with a hanky and the two made for the door. Thelma stopped them long enough to straighten Laura's dress and remind her one more time. "And dear, do remember the rules." Leak Ch. 05 Chapter Five: Bye, Bye, Father. Hello Shame. Laura stood meekly in front of her new governess and between her twin boys. She stood watching and waving timidly, but was unable to smile. She was positive she'd never smile again. She didn't know what to think as her father's car disappeared through a gate in a wall, on the far side of a courtyard. It drove swiftly out of sight and out of existence for Laura. Her heart was broken from having just missed saying good-bye to that strange man. Laura's heart was broken crystal spewed across a floor people went out of their way to grind under foot. Though he treated her with complete indifference, he was her father. Sure she'd just met him, and she'd probably not see him again for quite sometime, if ever, but she loved him. It was her nature to love without reciprocation. She stood torn and shredded, her stomach tense and bloated with worry over the punishment Thelma had promised her later that evening. Her mind was cornered, mouth incapable of speech, body unable to move. She was a desperate mouse in a convoluted maze, seeking a tiny glimmer of hope, the exit. Suddenly Thelma spun Laura around, bringing them face to face. "Miss Paines, listen to me and listen to me well. I will not repeat myself. You are to go up to your room and undress completely," Thelma stated in a sweet but stern voice. She was loud enough for her boys, a strolling couple, some longing individuals, the busybodies, and a few housekeepers to hear. With arrogance and pride, she looked around the room with a smirk on her face and continued. "You will hang your clothes up neatly and stand facing the door, with your arms at your sides. You will not touch anything! You will not make a sound! You will stay perfectly still until I arrive. Do you understand me?" The last word came down with a gavel's finality. Even without looking, Laura saw the people around her and felt them staring in amusement. "Yes ma'am," Laura answered, her face bright red with shame, anxiety wrenching her gut. She stood aquiver, wishing she could run away, dart upstairs and disappear into her room. Maybe she could hide from everything, escape this entirely bizarre affair. Thelma turned away, as if allowing Laura to pass and her sons seized the moment. One rouge reached up and grabbed Laura's left breast in his two hands. He squeezed it hard and yanked the teen to her toes, while pinching and twisting her nipple. At the same instant, the other imp ran a hand up the shocked girl's skirt. He grabbed a handful of her right ass cheek, dug his fingers into the meaty globe and squeezed as hard as his brother. Both tested the girl's resiliency in their own way, nearly lifting the startled female off her feet as she squealed in reproach. Thelma spun around to find her two sons standing quietly upright, grins on their faces and halos overhead. She found Laura regaining her balance, one hand clutching the sore breast, the other her ass. Laura's eyes glanced around the great foyer, at the laughing onlookers, at voyeurs who'd come to ogle her openly. She felt mortified, until her eyes met Thelma's and her heart stopped, the blood drained from her face and mortification turned to horror. Her arms dropped to her sides and she made to stand tall, though something told her to run. She moved to point, but didn't. She made to speak, to blame, but stayed mute, checking herself before each mistake. The rules dominated the moment, the rules, her nature and the promised punishment. "There'll be several more lashes this evening," Thelma said in a severe tone. The couple holding each other tight whispered to themselves in giggling interest. Laura's blood turned cold and she began shivering as tears welled up in her eyes. "Now Miss Paines, you will face the boys and apologize to them for attempting to bring them trouble. Then, you will repeat for them, in a clear voice, what it is I've just instructed you to do..." Laura stared in wide-eyed disbelief, listening with mouth agape. "...And then, you will ask for their permission before leaving." Again Laura couldn't believe her ears, it was all so unbelievable, but she also couldn't disobey. The room was so quiet Laura heard a pin drop to the floor and bounce before rolling to a stop. Laura turned and stood before the terrible boys. Both goaded her with quiet comments while ogling her ripe body. Their eyes were openly devouring her breasts, trying successfully to bring her ever more shame. Laura closed her eyes and in her sweet Southern accent, apologized. Then she was made to repeat herself, a few times. She then forced herself to explain to the monsters what it was she was about to do. Her words caused the boys to begin drooling and the front of their trousers to undulate like bags containing frustrated boa constrictors. After getting the boys' permission to leave, Laura turned to Thelma, who nodded in approval. Almost in a run, Laura passed the enraptured couple, the gloating individuals and giggling housekeepers. The frightened teenager ran off to her room, a degraded, dejected soul. Trembling with anticipation, Laura stood facing the door to her room as Thelma had instructed. She was completely naked, her arms hanging nervously at her sides. She was afraid to move, to speak or even think. All she could see were the glaringly ugly faces of the boys. She still felt their terrible hands on her breast and buttocks. No one had ever touched her like that before. No one had ever been so rude. Their rudeness made her sick and the names they'd called her, the words they'd used to describe her, names and words she had never heard before, upset her to no end. She saw the boys standing in front of her, laughing in her face and goading her into tears. She couldn't understand any of it. Why had Thelma made her ask the boys for permission to leave and why in front of so many others. Why did the boys make her beg over and over again...? Why? Laura wanted to put it all out of her mind, pretend it wasn't happening and that everything was as it should be. She wanted to look around her lovely room, at all the pretty things that made it her special place. She wanted to be the princess again. But her mind came full circle, the rules returned, the faces, the hands and the punishment Thelma promised. But no one could be serious about such a terrible thing, not even this strange woman whom she now awaited in the nude. 'No one could be so mean,' Laura pondered. Her thoughts turned to hope just as the door from Betsey's room flew open and cold reality entered like the frigid north wind, slapping her in the face. Thelma entered, slamming the door behind her and came to face the trembling teenager. She nodded in approval and satisfaction at Laura's obeisance. With arrogance and an aura of absolute authority she crossed the room while casually scanning its prettiness with disdain. Laura watched the woman move to a chair and sit down. Thelma cast a cold unsympathetic eye upon Laura and with a snap of her fingers, motioned the teen to come stand before her. Shaking, Laura obeyed. Thelma looked up at a pristine virgin, born for a Victorian era, as pure of heart and mind as ever was conceived. She saw an amply endowed female, with a pair of breasts that dangled from a frail torso like two overly ripened, flesh-colored watermelons. Each was capped with a long pink nipple surrounded by delicate aureole. Here was a fine porcelain doll with a pear shaped belly, deep whorled button and long tapering limbs. Her mons was covered in a blond down fur, through which Thelma could see a pair of dainty flower petal lips and an enlarged, well-developed clitoris. Here was a springtime bud awaiting its first lessons in sweet misery. Without warning, Thelma's arm shot up and her large crude hand grabbed Laura by the crotch. Her fingers rustled through the unsoiled moss sending the teenager high into the air, up onto her toes. Laura's eyes opened wide in alarm and shock, her mouth opening to protest and scream, but she could only muster little 'ohs'. Her own fingers fanned out, her hands moving and then retreating. Thelma smiled smugly. "Miss Paines," Thelma began tersely. "Are you a virgin?" "Yes ma'am," Laura muttered just loud enough for Thelma to hear. She imagined answering that question earlier, but that didn't seem to matter. Laura peered down at Thelma, who held her as one might a hand puppet, and listened to the woman's words. "Very good. Now I want you to stand absolutely still while I examine you for myself. You're a big girl now and as my charge it is my duty and obligation to familiarize myself with your body. You're now at that age when great temptations arise from dark places. A young lady such as yourself is always in great danger and in need of a mother's protection and advice. Therefore I am obliged to learn all I can about you. Only then can I help you defend against the evils you are about to encounter. As I've explained, it's improper for you to be touching yourself. You should never touch yourself and I am here to ensure you never do again." Laura looked into the woman's eyes. "Your grandfather would have wanted it this way," Thelma lied. She liked suffocating her victim in layers of confusion. Laura listened, watched, and felt Thelma. She wavered uneasily, tensed and in shock, as a big finger wiggled itself between her thin squishy nether lips. The digit stirred up strangely new emotions, causing a greater wetness and warmth then Laura had ever experienced before. Thelma studied the teen's responses with keen interest. "Tell me, tell me truthfully, Miss Paines. Have you ever touched yourself? Have you ever touched yourself in the way I'm touching you now," Thelma asked, knowing the answer. All children needed to explore themselves at one time or another, we all do. But she wished to break Laura down and get inside of her. She wanted to hear Laura confess. She wanted Laura to accept a simple childhood curiosity as a terrible sin. She wanted the teenager to bare her soul and develop a guilt she could manipulate. Laura closed her eyes and bit her lip in confusion. "Yes ma'am," Laura whispered with embarrassment. Thelma could sense and feel the girl's shame at being made to admit such a personal, yet innocent secret. "I see," Thelma said in a startled tone, acting surprised while playing the shocked, concerned puritan. "Well I never! How disgusting! I was right all along, temptation has already bitten. Oh, I pray to God almighty that I'm not too late. Truly you are in need of my help, poor dear. You have no idea what dangers you've put yourself in." Laura's head was spinning to the hand's exploration and the words of feigned disdain. Thelma was playing her well, using reproach and promises of salvation. "Rest assured it shall never happen again dear, as I, or someone I elect, will see to all your more private daily activities from this day forward. It will be for your own good." Thelma looked up at Laura expecting a proper answer and wiggled her embedded finger to ensure it. "I hope you come to appreciate all the time and effort I am about to spend on your education." Laura stared at the floor completely bewildered, her head spinning, body flashing both hot and cold, and barely caught a bit of drool that seeped from the corner of her mouth. "Yes ma'am," she whispered in a bated breath. Thelma was very pleased. "One thing we should take care of immediately is actually a harmless fetish of mine. For reasons you can't possibly understand, I do not tolerate a girl of your stature, under my care, to be adorned with hair. So in a short while..." Thelma continued, while keenly aware and quite taken by the arousal her finger was eliciting from the teenager. Though confused and ashamed, Laura began to enjoy openly the hand and its finger. Her body thrilled to a growing electrical storm, while her mind enjoyed a fireworks display. She soon perceived her surroundings as no more than a blur, and heard all words and sounds as simple mumbo jumbo. She accepted everything without question. She stayed up on her toes, a ballet dancer in her hero's arms, swaying slowly, straddling Thelma's large callous paw as it milked her sex. Thelma sported a grin as Laura's weight shifted and her hips moved faster. Soon, Laura was driving her sex around on the rough hand in an ever-increasing frenzy. It was a thrill watching the teenager arouse herself on the palm of Talassio, wiggle onto the deep probing finger of Hymenaeus and its long jagged fingernail. The nail scraped itself deliberately along Laura's imperforate hymen, causing the teen's body to jump and wiggle erotically. Laura, awash in physical and emotional sensations, experienced her first real orgasm. It came from deep inside and was released in a fine spray that drained her essence and coated the hand of her knowledgeable governess. Thelma took her sweet time, allowing her finger to squish around in the tightness. Laura vibrated from an intense rolling spasm. Together they stirred feminine juices into a thick froth. Thelma watched Laura's face contort to the submission and her own hand coat with warm cream. When the wicked woman finally withdrew her paw from Laura's now sopping sex, the poor girl nearly fell to the floor, its loss leaving her with an aching void. Flushed, weak kneed and exhausted, Laura was kept standing by the strings of Thelma's terse commands. She swayed uneasily, gasping in air, bathed in the heat of newly discovered sensations. Laura struggled to keep her arms and hands from leaving her sides, from rushing to fill the vacuum left by Thelma's missing hand. She wished to continue the unbelievably wonderful pleasures she'd just experienced for the first time in her life. She needed to reach down and feel for herself the moistness, her own juices that now coated the insides of her thighs. She wanted to scratch the itch Thelma left biting her, but for the rules! The rules. Leak Ch. 06 by: NastyPierre and colleen Chapter Six: Love Nips Laura was slowly coming out of her dazed state and regaining focus. Thelma held out her hand for Laura to see. It glistened with juices threatening to drip free. She moved it to Laura's lips and ordered the confused girl to take it into her mouth, to clean it with lips and tongue. Laura hesitated, and then hesitated about hesitating, unable to bring herself to accept the syrup-laden hand, as a finger pressed itself to her pursed lips. Laura stayed frozen in her spot as the thick sticky digit with the jagged nail began worming its way between her thin lips and into her unwilling mouth. Afraid to turn away, afraid to speak up in defiance, Laura allowed herself to discover the gentle fragrance and taste of her own juices. She let her lips separate slowly around the thick moist finger, allowing two, three and then four of them to wheedle their way into her small warm cavity. Laura considered the taste. It was salty, sweet and tangy all at once. The texture rich, thick as molasses and as if in a dream Laura found her little mouth sucking on the short coarse fingers like a small child would a Popsicle. She found herself enjoying the taste, actually savoring it. Her tongue was soon lapping along merrily, her mouth making quiet slurping sounds that whispered about the otherwise quiet room. "That's a good girl," Thelma finally whispered to compliment the suckling teen. Laura's eyes were closed as her mouth continued slurping contentedly. "Make it all clean for Auntie Thelma. Show Thelma you can be an obedient spaniel," the sinister woman encouraged, and the teenager's mouth doubled its effort in a sign of her enjoyment. Thelma's cleaned hand pulled out of the teenager's mouth with a soft 'pop,' leaving Laura's mouth, cheeks and chin noticeably sticky and as damp as her thighs. Then Thelma seized the startled girl by the hips and toppled her face down over her ample lap. Laura allowed herself to be draped like a fine linen napkin over the matron's heavy knees. She was placed with her ass high in the air, her hands reaching the floor one side of Thelma, her legs spread wide on the other. Her toes strained and vibrated on the floor nervously, as her breasts dangled from her chest like a couple giant pears, their nipples almost brushing the rug. With Laura in this position, Thelma examined the girls round behind. "Don't move a muscle Miss Paines, not a muscle, understand," Thelma warned. Laura strained her neck around to look up at the smiling old woman and nodded, not knowing what to expect. "Yes ma'am," Laura replied in a trembling voice. Thelma's hand glided over the baby smooth globes of Laura's plump bottom, hefting and squeezing the angelic gifts, amazed by their unearthly shape and resiliency. Then she parted Laura's cheeks gently, spreading them wide so she could peer into the deep crevice. With thumb and index finger she pried Laura's little hole open, pulled the little cockle apart enough to see into the darker recess. "Very, very nice. Such a superb behind, Miss Paines. You can be very proud of yourself and I find you quite suitable to my plans," Thelma said while peering into the girl's rectum. "Now, just stay relaxed. Don't fight me young lady, and this won't hurt," Thelma warned, while glancing down at the innocent face she found craned round in concern. One of Thelma's fingers nestled itself into the dank tightly clenched hole, the puckered little anus. It was smaller and tighter then the eye of a needle, and her finger caused it to pucker and clench even tighter. "What did I just tell you Miss Paines? Relax the muscles around my finger, or else," Thelma ordered the frightened girl, who was yet staring back over her shoulder in wide-eyed fear, mouth agape. Laura dropped her head and tried to relax, her mind attempting to locate and control the necessary muscles, but this was all new to her and she couldn't figure what to do. She felt the large invader throbbing confidently at the entrance to what she imagined to be a one-way street. Thelma was quietly satisfied with the girl's attempts to relax, not really expecting her to succeed at this point, so early in their little game. From Thelma's throat came a gutter-like sound and she spit a large warm wad of saliva into the crinkled rosette. She worked it carefully into the tight virgin orifice, not wanting to ruin this treasure for her two boys. Her thick-calloused finger sunk to its first joint, and Laura's body tensed further. Laura squirmed uneasily, never having experienced anything like it before and yet strained her neck to look up at Thelma. She gave a little start as the finger sunk to its second joint. Thelma looked into Laura's puppy eyes and smiled. "Miss Paines," Thelma said with a breath of satisfaction, as she sunk her digit into the tightly clenched muscle, as far as it would go. The warm deep channel gripped her finger with strong little spasms, driving Laura out of her mind and Thelma into heat. "Now, now, Miss Paines," Thelma said with a breath of satisfaction, "In time you will learn how to accept the finger without fidgeting so, it's so unladylike. You must allow yourself to let go. You must accustom yourself to the fact that for the rest of your sweet life, there are going to be a great many things, both big and small, I shall allow the use of this most exquisite hole," Thelma said with another sigh. She emphasized her point by stirring the finger around, while watching Laura's eyes roll and her head come back in abandon. Thelma finally allowed her finger to slip from the warm tight confines and Laura's little aperture to close tight once more. Thelma had no intention of stretching any of Laura's holes. She was intent on saving that pleasure for her two boys. Laura lay panting, draped over the warm lap. Before Laura could catch her breath, Thelma provided her three swift swats. Whap! Whap! Whap! The swats made Laura's ass vibrate and left imprints on the snow-white hemispheres. Both moons were turned a pretty shade of pink. Laura jumped and uttered a tiny 'oh,' after each. Her hand came off the floor to defend her derriere, but stopped short in a duck flapping motion Thelma found adorable. "Miss Paines, I am about to administer ten spanks to your behind. You are to keep your hands and feet on the floor. If one of your hands, a finger, or even a toe leaves the floor, we will begin again from the first. Understand," Thelma asked. "Yes ma'am," Laura struggled to say. She was quite unsettled by the rapid developments and recent events, befuddled and almost incoherent. "What? I can't hear you girl," Thelma shouted. She was bent on destroying her niece's already fragile ego. "Yes ma'am," Laura stuttered louder, her voice cracking to the confusion. "What," Thelma asked again. "Yes ma'am, I do understand, ma'am," Laura choked out. She was already in tears and heaving in deep gasps. "Very good young lady. Maybe, just maybe some good will come of this. Although I deplore violence, I realize punishment must be swift and sure to be effective," Thelma lied. "I must admit to following the old school of thought concerning discipline, 'spare the rod, and spoil the child.' It's an adage I'm sure you've heard and can appreciate. It's right out of the bible you know." 'Punishment for what,' Laura pondered from a position that left little room for argument. "Now Miss Paines, you are to count out loud for us. Count each and every spank like this, 'Number one ma'am, thank you ma'am.' And do remember, if a finger or a toe leaves the ground, even for a split second, you are to begin the count over, from number one. And if you fail to do so, you will receive an extra thirteen lashes with the birch rod tonight. Remember, I'll be watching your every move." Laura, already hysterical, had every intention of obeying, because she knew obedience was always rewarded. She stretched herself out over the woman's lap as tightly as possible, her hands flat on the floor, fingers extended, toes bent, tense and ready, or so she thought. SWAT! Number one landed with so much force, all four of Laura's limbs lifted off the floor. Even her breasts jumped into the air and her head came back while she screamed to the pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks. The porcelain white cheek turned a bright red and Laura settled back down, crying. Thelma's eyes flashed along with the excitement, to a thoroughly heart pounding excitement. Here was a mean old hag, a vicious dowager. She'd had many a sassy tart over her knee and yet, her frail niece was reawakening thoughts of that first virgin conquest, some wonderful thoughts indeed. She continued playing the game for all it was worth. "Come now. Offer me your ass dear. Come on, stick it up in the air for me," Thelma said softly, ending in a scream as poor Laura wiggled and wobbled herself higher. With eyes wide and a wider grin, Thelma raised her arm again. WHAP! The second swat landed on the other cheek, again with enough force to send Laura into the air. But Laura's hands, fingers and toes stayed down though she screamed even louder then before and wailed into the air. Her cheeks were now a matching set of brilliant pink. "Number... one... ma'am, thank you... ma'am," Laura spit out between sputtering 'ohhhhhs and eeeeees.' Her face was awash in tears, her eyes searching the heavens for a savior. Thelma meant to make each slap a little harder then the last and the next one sent Laura's breasts bouncing. Laura caught the baby finger of her left hand leave the ground and looked to heaven. She called to god without using words. "Number one... ma'am, thank you ma'am," she choked out barely, through gasps and southern hollers. "Up again girl, keep your ass up in the air," Thelma yelled down at the girl. Through her pains, agony and humiliation, Laura moved to comply, arching in compliance. As Laura did her best to balance over Thelma's lap, Thelma allowed her hand to land gently onto the girl's behind. Laura stirred under the hand's slow movement as it hovered tenderly above the well-heated mounds. It moved down between the girl's legs, fingers once again combing quietly through the soft brush. Slithering like snakes, they slid into and along the girl's tight virgin slit, arriving to ravage. The fingers came to rest at the base of Laura's clitoris, an organ that stuck out farther then any Thelma had ever seen. It was truly a gem amongst gems. Laura felt her little bud responding and swell with blood. Somewhere from deep inside Laura felt the release of more juices, making Thelma's hand feel so much better. Laura tensed, she went up on fingers and toes and her head came back in a long gasp as Thelma took possession of the clit. Laura squealed when Thelma pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. Thelma's fingers closed slowly around the organ, gently. Then they began moving rhythmically up and down the organ's length, allowing it to squish between her two rough digits. Laura attempted and failed at catching her breath, but didn't care at this point. She moved her hips faster, and began bucking to those fantastic sensations so quickly overtaking her again. She dove into them with her heart, mind, and holes open. This time they arrived with more intensity and she surrendered, surrendered her soul while over Thelma's knee that hot afternoon. In abandon, she willingly rode her meaty bud between Thelma's rough collar, enjoying orgasm, after orgasm, after orgasm. She demonstrated her abandon with fine sprays and mists she released into the air in spasmodic bursts. Thelma watched each release sprinkle from Laura's pretty virgin sex, from between lips and thighs. They rose into the air and floated to the floor gently. She smiled, knowing she had been right all along. Laura was an orgasm addict just as she'd expected. Thelma allowed the teenager's thick rubbery clit to ride itself to ecstasy, for Laura to wallow in unadulterated bliss, waiting for just the right moment. Then Thelma drew her hand out from between Laura's thighs, raised it high and brought it down hard on the upturned buttocks. WHAP! Laura returned to earth like a meteorite, in a crashing scream. Her eyes popped from their sockets and tears jumped off her face. Her breasts bounced on the floor with loud plops, her tiny mouth stretched open wide and her fingers and toes drummed out their messages of despair. "N... Nu... Numbe... r... one... ma'am, thank... you... ma'am," Laura finally gasped out in several short breaths of sputtering incoherence. Thelma allowed the indiscretion, looking down proudly on her crimsoned achievement. The unblemished cheeks radiated heat and throbbed under her palm. Again Thelma's arm went up, and again her hand landed with a loud 'SWAT!' Again on the other cheek, and again Laura sputtered out another incoherent message. Then again, after the count of five, Laura caught herself. She caught a toe leaving the floor and in despair, began over, not that Thelma would actually have noticed. Fact was, Thelma's eyes rarely left the two bouncing hemispheres as she wailed away on them alternately, stopping only long enough to tickle Laura's clitoris. But Laura began over anyway, out of fear. On it went, for almost an hour, until Thelma's hand began to burn and she realized she might be there all night. By now Laura's tears had formed small saltwater pools in the rug under her and her breasts were sore from bouncing around, yanking at her chest. Laura had screamed herself hoarse and was reduced to whimpering for her governess to both stop and continue, until she swooned. She fainted, going limp over Thelma's lap and the woman stopped spanking, promising the unconscious girl that they would continue at a later date. Thelma wiped the sweat from her brow and wiped her hand off on Laura. She was proud, excited and tingling all over, thrilled by the virgin draped in surrender over her lap, a gift from god, a toy from heaven, her ticket to stardom. "You belong to me girl. You belong to me and you'd better get accustomed to it," she screamed down on the unconscious figure. Even unconscious, Laura seemed to nod in assent. After awhile Thelma helped Laura to stand, once again warning her not to touch herself. Laura's eyes were puffy and swollen, overflowing with tears that ran down her cheeks in sheets, dripping onto her heaving tits. She stood uneasily, teetering and exhausted. Thelma stood, straightened her own clothes and hair, wiped a bit more sweat from her feverish brow and ungracefully took hold of Laura's slender arm. The old woman received the finest present she could have hoped for at that moment, when Laura again swooned. She collapsed against the woman, allowing her huge firm breasts and firm belly to flatten against her. It was an acknowledgment of her surrender and affirmation of Thelma's dominance. Thelma led Laura to a mirror and had the girl look back over her shoulder, at the reflection of her backside. The child's lips quivered as she scanned her swollen, blood red cheeks. She wanted very much to reach back and soothe them, but knew better. She looked up to Thelma for solace and Thelma kissed her on the lips gently, smacking her lips afterwards like a fox in the hen house. Thelma led her virgin gift out the door and across the hall to another room. "My dear Miss Paines. In this room, we shall begin your lessons in humility. Humility is a very important virtue, very important to someone like you," Thelma whispered to the still shaking, sobbing Laura. By the time Thelma opened the door, Laura had fainted into the woman's arms. Thelma scooped her up, lifted her in triumph and carried her like a trophy across the threshold.