CHINA TEEN PHOTO SLAVES by Loren Ryder (Chapter. 1 Lights and cameras were set up around the suspension chain and harness. Aimee would be photographed while strapped into this harness. And the photos would be those of punishments and authentic whippings to be published for connoisseurs of the flagellation arts. 
This chamber of the mansion had once been a ballroom but now lay dismal and dusty save for the photo areas. A burly man, wearing a hood, led Aimee in, holding her by the wrist. The almost-nude Chinese girl cried out when she saw that she was being led to the harness and chain. "No, please do not put me in that!" she shrieked. The hooded man simply laughed at her efforts to resist. And when her bare feet slipped from beneath her, he simply dragged her along by her wrist. "Keep it up and you'll spend another night caged," he said to her. The girl's dusky body was covered only by a scant piece of white cloth, filthy and frayed. It had been wrapped around her hips and through her smooth crotch, loincloth style. Edmund Flint, the photographer, a tall man with grey hair, looked up from the lights he was adjusting when he heard the commotion at the other side of the ballroom. 
His eyes gleamed when he saw the young beauty being brought into this arena of horrors. Aimee, barely into her late teens, was fine of form and slender, but her body was becoming contoured. Her black and lustrous hair hung almost to her waist, and her round but smallish breasts gave her a nubile appearance. She had a finely chiselled face with large, questioning eyes that contributed to her childlike appearance of innocence. "Take no nonsense from that little whore, Lothar," Edmund said to the man who had charge of the girl.
 "She'll be harnessed whether she likes it or not." Edmund snatched up a hand-held camera and took a few shots of Aimee being hauled along. Realism was one of the trademarks of his work, and pictures of a girl being dragged to her fate would fetch a handsome price. Yes, Aimee had been fixed into the dreadful harness before, flogged and tortured while in its straps, tormented by both men and women, penetrated by complete strangers. She knew well how it felt to dangle helplessly at the end of the chain. Once the girl was in the photo area, Edmund lifted the harness from the hook at the end of the suspension chain. "Please don't do this to me," Aimee pleaded as Lothar pulled her to her feet. But the two men forced her arms into the leather device. The straps went behind her neck, crisscrossed her breasts, and then went under arms to fasten in the back with a buckle. They cinched this buckle an extra notch, causing the leather to bite into the tender flesh. Then they bent the girl's arms up at the elbows, crossed her wrists and secured them into a small leather belt sewn into the back of the harness. This buckle they fastened doubly tight. Edmund liked his models to wince with authentic pain. With the girl now harnessed, Lothar pushed her to stand by the chain. He looped the hook at the end of the chain through a ring sewn into the back of the harness. Aimee knew that she was about to be lifted. "Don't do this to me," she pleaded once again. But her pleas did her no good. Edmund was already at a large, wooden crank-handle mounted on a yellowing, marble column. When he began turning the handle, the ominous clanking sound of rusted gears came from within the high ceiling, and the chain began to tighten, lifting Aimee upward. Edmund didn't cease cranking until she was up on the ends of her nude toes. Her body was taut now, the sinews of her brown flesh strained and knotting beneath the skin while her toes skittered at the cracked marble of the floor. Edmund went to a tripod-mounted camera. "Strip her down," he said to Lothar. "Teen-girls need to be naked." The camera began clicking as the hooded Lothar took up a stance in front of the girl. The black hood revealed only his eyes, mouth, and nostrils, but Aimee could see that he wore a cruel expression that showed he was clearly pleased with his task. He undid the knot that held the ragged loincloth together and then pulled it slowly away, completely Aimee's nudity and exposing her smooth pubis. "I'm sure you'll be more comfortable this way," he said as he tossed the tiny piece of cloth away. He stood aside as Edmund took a few photos of the girl just dangling there. "Is she shaved regularly?" 
Edmund said from behind the camera, commenting on Aimee's hairless pussy. "No need for it," Lothar replied. "This young thing hasn't sprouted any hair yet. Some Oriental girls never do." "Didn't know that. I thought they shaved as a matter of custom." "Yes, most do. Some never have to bother." Resigned to her predicament, Aimee was now motionless. "Time to get this pretty thing moving about," Edmund said. "How about working on her?" "My pleasure," Lothar said as he advanced toward the girl. "What shall we do with her?" "Anything you like. I want some pictures of genuine suffering. Torture the little slut any way you have to." Lothar reached out a beefy hand and grasped the bare pubis before him, squeezing the outer lips tightly together until Aimee gasped. "Owww," she cried out. "Please." And then Lothar began doing what he loved best, tormenting a naked and helpless young girl. He used his hands on her first, pinching and twisting her bare flesh. He walked around her, agonizing her breasts, her torso, the buttocks. Aimee squirmed beneath his fingers, her body wagging from side to side in an effort to avoid this cruel treatment. Edmund kept the camera clicking non-stop, capturing each second of it. "What she needs a decent beating," Lothar said as he went to a nearby table and picked up a long lash-strap. The strap was well oiled and supple. Lothar doubled it over in his hands, preparing to whip the girl. He stood to one side of her, the lash held aloft. "I beg you to not whip me," Aimee exclaimed. "I've done nothing." "You work as a photo model, my girl," Edmund chuckled. "Taking floggings is part of it. Stop trying to shirk your duties." "But I didn't know about this," Aimee wailed. "I didn't..." But she wasn't able to finish. The whip sailed through the air and struck her shoulders with a loud smacking sound. "Owwh!" the girl cried. "No!" It was an unusual tableau being enacted in the antiquated ballroom, a grey-haired man taking photos of a hooded figure whipping a youthful female nude, the nude harnessed and suspended. After snapping the whip over the whole of the girl's backside, Lothar concentrated on the buttocks only, cracking the strap at them until the tawny flesh took on a deep red colour. This caused Aimee to arch her body, the pubis thrusting itself outward, and the breasts heaving high. Aimee was so very bare and so very helpless. She had no choice but to accept whatever they did with her. She was theirs to do with as they chose, and they were men who had strange ideas of pleasure. Both of them were relishing her suffering, their eyes agleam at the sight of her body twisting beneath the punishment. When Lothar ceased the flogging, Aimee's body continued to writhe about just as if she were still under the whip. Her breath was still coming quickly, her little toes wiggling at the floor. "I need a break from being in front of these hot photo lamps," Lothar said as he stepped out of the posing area. But, of course, Aimee was left to swelter in her bondage. From the other side of the ballroom, a woman appeared. She was dressed in a severe outfit of black pants and matching jacket. Her red hair was pulled straight back. And Aimee felt terror at the very sight of her. It was Vanessa, a woman who often helped in these posing sessions, a woman who delighted in the torture of young girls. "Is Aimee behaving herself?" she asked as she drew near. Edmund was busy changing the lighting, moving one of the lamp stands. "She's been easy enough to handle since we harnessed her," he said, "but she was somewhat less than cooperative on her way here." Vanessa went to stand before the bare teen-girl. "Did you like being in a cage last night, Aimee?" she asked. "No!" the girl gasped out. "Well, that's where disobedient young ladies wind up," Vanessa laughed. "Personally, I think you look rather appealing when you're caged, so you'd better not give me an excuse to put you in one again tonight." "No, I will do as I am told." On the day before, Aimee hadn't followed a command fast enough to suit Vanessa, and the woman had had her taken to the cellars of the old mansion and locked into a cage of iron not much bigger than a small bathroom. There, clad in her loincloth only, Aimee had spent the night, sleeping on a thin pallet of straw. Guards had taunted her off and on until dawn, reaching their hands in to fondle her. Vanessa was holding several iron clamps. "Can you hoist her up for a toe-clamping?" she said to Lothar. "Maybe having her feet fastened into some iron will cure her of being so frisky." Lothar leaned into the crank-handle, and Aimee was raised yet again. This time Lothar didn't cease turning the handle until her feet were about a yard off of the floor. Vanessa advanced toward the bare girl. She grabbed Aimee's left ankle and placed one of the clamps on the smallest toe of the foot, turning the screw that tightened the small torture device. "Awwh," Aimee sighed. This just made Vanessa smile. She grabbed the other ankle and tightly clamped the smallest toe of this foot. Finished with the toe clamps, she ordered the girl to cross her ankles, and, when Aimee complied, she cinched the ankles together with a short belt. Then, with a leather strap, she tied the ankles up to the harness, pulling until the girl's body was in a half-bow; the feet stretched upward, the legs spread open somewhat. The pain running through Aimee's toes was constant, and it caused her to sway back and forth, her long hair waving gently over her back. "I'm getting some great shots of this, Vanessa," Edmund commented from behind the camera tripod. He was photographing the entire scene, catching every second of Aimee's suffering. At a signal from Vanessa, Lothar lowered the girl until her pussy was at about the height of a person's waist. Then Vanessa walked to the front of the girl and grabbed at the nude pubic mound. She twisted the smooth flesh in a rough and intimate manner, stimulating the rounded hillock. "Just as I thought," the red-haired woman said. "This little whore's getting wet. She's able to cum while someone's beating her." It was so very true. Even at this tender age, Aimee was a highly sensuous being, her flesh sensitive to touch. The pain of the lash scorching across her buttocks could penetrate to her pubis and cause her to orgasm. Vanessa was now opening the outer folds of the bare pussy and pinching on the already-stiff clit, causing the nub to grow painfully swollen. "No..." Aimee murmured, but her body was moving at Vanessa's fingers. This was stark humiliation for the suspended girl. As she twisted in her agony, she was surrounded by three fully clothed people, all of them so much older than she, all of them enjoying her naked shame. "We don't want you to be so anxious, my girl," Vanessa said as she removed her fingers and walked away. The woman went to the equipment table and brought back a leather shaft that was shaped like a man's penis. "This is what you need, Aimee," she said as she held the leather tool up. Without ceremony, Vanessa began wedging the shaft into the opening of the Chinese girl's small crevice, pushing it in forcefully an inch at a time. Already, the girl's pussy had gone into surface orgasms that caused her to struggle at her bonds. And when the shaft was finally planted firmly into her, she went into small and rippling orgasms, one following another. "It's so...big," the girl mumbled. "So glad you approve," Vanessa smirked. "It's just like having a dick stuck into you, isn't it?" Aimee's body had begun pumping back and forth, her long hair falling forward and over her breasts. Edmund couldn't click his camera fast enough. The underground publishers were going to fall all over themselves to buy up these pictures. They'd pay a handsome price for them too. "That's perfect, Vanessa," he said. "Give her a fucking with that thing." The dangling girl was breathing heavily now, wagging in the harness as her juices flowed freely from her pubic slit. Her orgasms were making her flesh spasm even as the clamps continued to torment her wiggling toes. Vanessa pulled the shaft out and stared at it. "Goodness, look at this," she said. "This girl seems to have gotten my toy all wet. Well, she'll just have to clean it off." She pressed the shaft to Aimee's parted lips and pressed it inward. "Lick it off, you naked slut," she said. "Clean it." With the shaft being pushed at her, Aimee was forced to open her mouth. Fearing punishment, she quickly began using her tongue and lips to lick and suck her own cream from the leather tool. "That's a good girl," Vanessa cooed and then laughed. "Suck like a whore." When she was satisfied that the shaft was clean, Vanessa removed it and laid it aside. "Can I ask you to leave her harnessed once you're done with taking pictures of her," she said to the two men as she strode from the ballroom. "I want to her to learn a lesson or two in obedience." Edmund and Lothar said they would, but their attention was on Aimee. They had still more plans for her. As Edmund was reloading camera, Lothar went to stand in front of the bare girl, and her eyes grew wide when she saw that he was taking his large, erect member from his trousers. "But..." she said. "No buts about it," Lothar chuckled. "It's time for you to take a real fucking now." He reached around behind her and took hold of the upturned feet and pulled her toward himself, aiming his prong at the centre of her moist crevice. He jammed it at her, prodding until he'd buried himself in the warm folds. Aimee couldn't control her body. At the first touch of the man's member, her loins went into a fresh series of orgasms, these far stronger. The frightening hooded face was right next to hers, and she could feel Lothar's hot breath. His hands were squeezing her tortured feet, causing her to thrust herself at him. Lothar was so stimulated from lashing the girl and seeing her degraded with the leather shaft that he spent himself in her pubis almost immediately. "Such a tight little whore you are," he hissed at her as his fluids flowed into her. Done with satisfying himself, he removed his manhood from her dripping slot. "I'm finished with her, Edmund," he said. "She's all yours." "Thanks. I can take care of things from here on in." "Enjoy yourself," Lothar replied with a short laugh and left the room. Edmund came from behind the mounted camera. "Well, it looks like we're all alone," he said to the Chinese girl as he went to the crank-handle. Here, he raised her until her feet were high. Then he came over and released her from the ankle restraints and removed the toe clamps. Still, even when Aimee let her legs relax, her feet were well off the floor. Edmund returned to the handle and turned it. "Down you go, posing girl," he said. He lowered her until the tips of her toes were able to touch the hard floor. But Aimee's ordeal was far from over. Edmund was lifting a braided, leather quirt from the table. He was a man who loved his craft. Taking photos of bound girls was more than a vocation for him. It was his passion. He derived a tremendous gratification from inflicting suffering on the flesh of helpless, young girls. And he could hardly ask for more than a nude and harnessed Chinese teen-girl! He wanted to flog her himself rather than watch, to make her writhe beneath the leather punishment. "Your luscious titties seem to have been neglected," he said as he took up a stance in front of her, running the end of the quirt gently over the tender breast-flesh. "Well, I'll just give them a good whipping." Aimee flinched from the quirt. "But you're taking no photos," she whined. "Why must you whip me?" "You're in no position to question what I do with you," he said as he swung the leather instrument over her left breast. "You'll take the quirt, and you'll learn to like it." He whipped at both of the rounded fruits until they were red with stripes, the nipples becoming hard and swollen and causing Aimee to shriek. Her cries rang out through the deserted ballroom. "It hurts so much," she wailed. "Please stop." But Edmund flogged the girl thoroughly, striping her legs and the wet pubis, even striking at the flailing feet. Aimee thrashed at the harness, causing the chain to rattle. Her black tresses waved wildly about as she fought for escape, but there was no avoiding the cruel quirt. She was fully at Edmund's mercy. As he flogged his victim, Edmund's lust for her grew. In his way of thinking, a girl in agony was a most desirable object. When he was done with the whipping, he set the quirt aside and went to stand behind the twisting girl. After removing his stiff member from his trousers, he grabbed her by the hips, readying to invade the buttocks. "Not this," Aimee moaned when she felt his prong at the opening to her anus. "Your other openings have already been used this morning," he growled. "I want a fresh one." The little buttock opening was ever so small, and it was with a mighty effort that Edmund was able to penetrate it. But he managed and began screwing into the anus. "A good ass-fucking is probably just what you need," he said as he enjoyed this total mastery of his captive. Aimee's body responded with a mind of its own, and the bittersweet pain in her rump quickly spread to her pubis, tossing her into orgasms once again. These orgasms swept throughout her crotch region and into her backside. She'd gone into anal and buttock-orgasms that made her scream with both pain and a strange pleasure. "What are you doing to me?" she cried out. "You know just what I'm doing," Edmund chuckled as he unleashed his load of cream into the very centre of her buttocks. "I'm giving you just what a girl like you needs." Once he was done with using his cock on her, Edmund packed up his cameras and prepared to leave. He left Aimee harnessed, still suspended at the end of the chain. "You heard what Vanessa said," he remarked as he left. "Perhaps she's right. Staying harnessed for awhile might teach you some obedience." Then Aimee was alone, hanging limply in the harness, balanced on the ends of her toes. Juices oozed from her mouth and anus, and the liquid flowing from her pubis dripped to the floor. Her punished flesh throbbed and glowed in the gloomy ballroom. And the only sound in the cavernous room was her ragged breathing. She'd been used fully. ___ Chapter. 2 Aimee had been easy prey for the flesh merchants. Upon arriving in a new country, she'd looked for work for almost three days before deciding to go to the Chinese section of town, thinking that perhaps one of her own countrymen could help her. She needed a job, any job. What little money she had was almost gone, and she was desperate. Everywhere, the situation had been the same. "Do you have a work permit?" she would be asked, and she would have to say no. To get a work permit, one had to begin the naturalization process, and there was no way she could do this. She could hardly tell a prospective employer that, with the help of an unscrupulous boat captain, she'd smuggled herself into the country. People had wanted to hire such a bright and pretty girl, but they were afraid of the authorities. Even though she was from a poor village, she'd managed to educate herself in the basics, and, with the help of a missionary, she'd learned the limited amount of English she would need. She was surprised at the city's bustling Chinatown. It wasn't like her homeland at all. Everywhere in the chaotic bustle of people, she saw bright colours, dragons, and paper lanterns. Gift shops and restaurants abounded. But there was a certain furtive seaminess to the area, and Aimee felt as if something might be lurking beneath the surface of so much gaiety. But even here she couldn't find work, not even as a waitress. Everyone wanted a work permit. Aimee had just been turned down again, and she was standing outside a restaurant when the small and wizened Chinese man materialized at her side, seeming to appear out of nowhere. "You want to work, you go to Sam Fong," he whispered. "You are a pretty girl. He will hire you." "Where do I find him?" she asked. The little man pointed to a dark alley. "Down there," he said. "Door at the end." Then, with a cackling giggle, he melted into the passers-by. Aimee didn't like the looks of this alley. Growing up in a farming village, the city was a forbidding place to her, but she had to do something. Taking a deep breath, she entered the alleyway. At the end, she saw a door and a narrow window. In the window was a sign that simply said "Chinese Food--24 hours." She turned the knob and walked in. At the very back of the long, narrow room, Sam Fong was behind the bar, but even though the room was dim and filled with the pungent smoke of incense, he saw that the young girl coming in the door was just the kind he was always on the lookout for. She had a compliant air about her. If she were looking for a job, he would take her into his clutches. He would enslave her. He asked few question about her background. Fong was involved in many underhanded activities, and he could tell that she was an illegal immigrant. Aimee was a little unnerved by the gaunt-looking man. He had a long, drooping moustache and a sinister smile. And his slitty eyes were clearly appraising her body. She was wearing a short, maroon dress, but under his gaze, she felt almost naked. But Aimee forgot any misgivings she might have had about the man when it seemed as if he were hiring her on the spot. "You can perform downstairs, private lounge," he said. "You will be given lodging and food." "What do you mean perform?" the girl asked. "Dance with almost no clothes, sometimes naked," Fong told her. "Do you want to work?" At that point, Aimee probably would have accepted any offer, but the idea didn't put her off entirely. At home, she'd been used to bathing herself outdoors in streams, and she knew a few dance movements from participating in the festivals of her village. "Yes, I can do that," she said to the man. Fong gave her a wide smile that showed his yellow teeth. He'd found a new girl to use, and he might even be able to sell her. He'd sold many girls in his time. He led Aimee through the tiny dining room and down a dank hallway that was lighted by only a dim red bulb. At the end of this hall was a steel door. Fong opened it. "Come this way," he said, gesturing to a long and creaking wooden staircase that led into the deep cellars beneath the restaurant. Aimee descended these stairs, and, as she did, she took the first steps into sex slavery. The vast cellar was a private restaurant and cocktail lounge, but more importantly, it featured Oriental dance entertainment where naked Chinese girls were forced to perform in the most lewd fashion, girls, like Aimee, with no legal work permit. In these nether regions, Aimee would unwittingly surrender her clothing and everything she carried with her in return for a modest cot and food, rice and vegetables. She would dance nude before Fong's depraved clientele and see their greedy eyes devouring her young body. And she would do more than dance. She would work as a slave. Clad in nothing but a few scraps of ragged cloth, she would wash pots and pans and scrub floors on her hands and knees. Possibly, she was more easily lured into servitude than most girls her age. In the village where she'd grown up, many of the ancient ways were practiced. She'd learned subservience, to act upon order in silence. Within minutes after entering these underground chambers, she'd removed her clothing, and one of Sam Fong's assistants had taken her small tote bag and purse away from her. She was given a small piece of black cloth to tie on at her hip like a sarong skirt. The cloth barely concealed her smooth pubis and even left a bit of her buttocks uncovered. All she was given to tie over her breasts was a thin bandanna of the same colour. "You are ready for your tasks now," Fong said once the girl had tied these scant garments on. Then he stared at her, looking forward to seeing this fresh flower dance in the nude. And it wouldn't be long before he would have her under the lash for the pleasure of his customers. Oh, Aimee would soon suffer the whip. She would have no choice. Each night, shortly after midnight, Fong would choose one of his dancers for this special entertainment. The chosen girl would be forced into being hung naked before the audience, suspended by her wrists to have the lash used on her bare flesh. But Aimee was simply grateful to have a roof over her head and to have some sort of employment. She didn't care how menial the work might be. She was off of the streets and out of harm's way, or so she thought. There are those who deal in the buying and selling of female flesh and make fortunes from the bodies of young girls. Fong was one these people, and he did business with those like himself. Aimee had entered an inescapable web. ___ Chapter. 3 Orrin North lived well outside the city in reclusive splendour. He'd made a sizable fortune in the underground publishing of photos, photos of nude and captured Chinese girls in the most stringent restraint. The publications he sold to were the best of their kind as they depicted girls who'd actually been enslaved. The viewer couldn't doubt that the models within the pages of his magazines were undergoing agony of the most authentic variety. "These girls are to be tortured," he would often say to the photographer who worked with him, "and I don't care how much you make the little whores suffer. I want realism." Orrin was a tall man in his fifties with grey in his black hair, large in stature, lean and well muscled. But his eyes were what caught people's attention. They sat beneath thick eyebrows, dark-blue and hypnotic. In his isolated home, a 19th century, two-story structure of stone, he employed discreet servants, people who understood his peculiarities. These peculiarities were many, but the most prevalent was his love of taking mastery over girl-flesh, and it was Chinese girl-flesh he sought. Through his seductive charm and wealth, he was easily able to take unsuspecting China girls under his thumb, girls who were recent or illegal immigrants. Once he had control of his victim, she would find herself before the cameras of his photographers--nude, bound, and under the lash. His trips into the city weren't numerous, but they were memorable and sometimes productive. In this vast metropolis, Orrin North knew where to find what he wanted, where to procure the darker pleasures, where to buy slave girls. And he visited Sam Fong often. North had found Aimee during one of these excursions. During the afternoon, he'd gotten some of his more mundane business affairs out of the way, and then went to Chinatown. He didn't frequent much of this part of town. He had little use for the honest businesses, the restaurants and shops of respectable dealings. Rather, he preferred the underbelly of these streets, the alleys and secret dens, the hidden rooms of depravity. After stopping for a light dinner of moo shi pork, rice, and tea, he went to Sam Fong's place. He wanted to go into the private lounge to watch the dancing girls. Orrin had a particular fondness for the dusky girls of China, and Fong's dancers were always a joy. North often dealt with the sinister Chinaman. Fong rented his girls out and would sometimes release them from his employ for the right price. Orrin had bought girls from him in the past and used them as concubines and bondage models. Orrin kept his girls under control with the most devious of methods. They were subjected to harsh discipline and rigorous punishment. He would tie them to the rack and force them to ride the torture wheel, a tall and ominous structure of heavy timber. They were whipped, and, most importantly, they were sex-tortured. Orrin knew how to make a girl suffer the sort of excruciating pain that resulted in orgasm. His girls screamed in pain while their loins were whipped to sexual release. When he was done with a slave girl, he would simply sell her on the black market, usually at handsome profit. "Ah, Mr. North," Sam Fong whispered when Orrin came into the dingy little restaurant and approached the bar. "You've come to see the dancing girls?" Orrin nodded, and Fong led the way to the steel door and unlocked it. "Enjoy yourself," the Chinaman said. "I will join you shortly. I have a new girl you might like, maybe rent. She has never been whipped in front of the audience. Tonight will be her first time." For all his wealth, Orrin North was in his element in this dimly lit cellar of decadence. The room held perhaps a hundred people. The customers were mostly men, but there always several women present, women who enjoyed naked Chinese nymphets. There was little conversation, the only sounds being music. No one was here to talk. They were here to gaze at young and dusky flesh. Most of all, they were here for the midnight whipping of one of these unfortunate performers. The dance area was nothing more than a large, cleared space in the middle of the room, the tables ringed around it. After ordering a drink from a barefoot, Oriental waitress, North settled back to watch the dancer who was now performing. She was well contoured and of ample breast, her eyes aglow with the frenzy of her nude gyrations. Orrin was pleased to be in a place where he could watch and maybe even buy what he loved most, Chinese girl-flesh. In a small room just outside the lounge, Aimee and another girl, Kyo, waited for their time to go out and perform for these people. Both girls were clad in nothing but white loincloths that covered almost nothing of their lithe and youthful bodies. Aimee had been in Fong's employ for two weeks now, and she still became nervous when it was almost time to expose herself to so many people. These two weeks had been hard for Aimee, but she couldn't help but be glad to have some sort of home, Spartan as it might be. She was forced to labour in the kitchen, wearing only the little black skirt and the thin bandanna. And she found that she seemed to be the property of everyone. Not only did the patrons of Fong's lounge grope her freely, but his staff did as well, reaching under her skirt and fondling her body. And she didn't dare protest. Fong seemed to be always lurking about, his keen eyes taking in everything. She quickly learned that any insubordination was rewarded with corporal punishment. "Come here, Aimee," Sam barked at her the first time she questioned an order. Aimee scurried to stand before him. "Get down on your hands and knees," he said. With the entire kitchen staff watching, Aimee obeyed, and when she did, Fong removed his leather belt. "You do as you are told," he said to the kneeling girl. "If you don't, you take punishment." He lifted the little piece of cloth knotted about her hips, exposing her rounded buttocks, and gave the bare posterior two dozen licks of the belt. After being shamed this way, Aimee was ever so careful to follow commands quickly and to the letter, but this made no difference. Fong was a man who loved to see a girl shrieking with pain, and he was continually coming up with excuses to punish his slave dancers. Aimee learned to accept these beatings, her early training in submission serving her well. She'd asked to go out once and been flatly refused. "You stay here and work," Fong had barked at her. "Don't ask favours. I know all about you." Then she saw it. Sam Fong knew that she was in the country illegally! "I hope I am not the one to be whipped tonight," Kyo was saying to Aimee. Aimee only nodded. She'd wondered why Fong never chose her as the whipping girl, and she could only suppose that the other girls were under some special contract arranged by a seller or agent. The first time she'd witnessed one of these bizarre public floggings, she'd been shocked. Fong had pointed to a dancer named Soo, and two burly Oriental men had dragged the girl out into the dance area. There, they'd tied her wrists into a leather strap that hung down from the ceiling and whipped her until her skin was red with welts and stripes. Soo had screamed for mercy, but the horrid whipping had continued while the audience smiled with delight, some of them even clapping! The China girl with the ample breasts was just finishing up when Sam joined North at his table. "You will like this next girl," the Chinaman said. "She's the new one I spoke of." The moment Orrin North saw Aimee coming out to begin her performance, he became determined to purchase her and use her as a photo-bondage slave. She was so very young and limber, the lines of her tawny body chiselled, her hair hanging in disarray to her trim waist. The tiny loincloth she wore exposed an arced rump that appeared tight and yet tender. Orrin knew she would soon be naked, and he could hardly wait to have a look at her pussy. He saw that this girl's almond-shaped eyes had that mysterious Oriental gaze, but within them he saw an innocent sensuality. Photos of her in bondage would sell for a high price, and he meant to do just that! "You like her?" Fong said as Aimee began her dance. "Yes, quite lovely," North answered, trying not to let the Chinaman know just how enthused he was over this girl. He didn't want Fong to hike the price up. He intended to rent her first and then simply buy the rights to her employment. The first time Aimee had been so bare in front of an audience, she felt shamed, but she'd also been surprised to find that she rather enjoyed performing her native dances. The people seemed to appreciate her slow undulations, her sensual writhing, and she was always pleased to hear their applause. As she danced now, she saw Orrin North's eyes boring into her, devouring her body, and when she removed her loincloth to dance in the full nude, she felt as if he was staring directly at her bare pussy. Orrin was doing just that. He was impressed with the smooth little mound. It was so small and tight looking, just a bit of a V tucked so neatly between her sleek thighs. Sam saw the look on Orrin's face. "You want to rent her?" he said. "Yes, I'll take her for two nights," North said, not taking his eyes from the nude China girl in the middle of the room. "Very pretty," Fong said with his wicked smile. "Two nights is a high fee." But Orrin just told him to name the price, and when Fong did so, Orrin handed him the money. He wasn't going to quibble over price. He wanted this girl, and he meant to have her. "You can take her home after she receives a whipping at midnight," Sam said as he pocketed the cash. Orrin just nodded. He didn't mind waiting, as he was eager to see this girl under the lash. Just before midnight, Sam Fong entered the back room where the dancers waited. He wore a vicious grin as he surveyed the cowering girls. They knew he was there to choose the night's whipping girl. He pointed a long, crooked finger directly at Aimee. "You are the one," he said with a diabolical laugh. "You are the one to be whipped tonight." "No, not that!" Aimee cried out, shrinking from the man. She was back into her loincloth but was otherwise nude. Two burly Chinese men appeared behind Fong and advanced toward the girl. They seized her by the wrists and pulled her toward the door, but she resisted, trying to hold back. "Don't whip me," she wailed. "Please don't!" But she was no match for the two strong men, and they hauled her out into the middle of the dance area, Aimee struggling all the way. Fong's customers were delighted to see the almost-nude girl being dragged to her fate. To people of their bent of mind, a girl's beauty was enhanced when she fought her captors. And Aimee was shrieking, her bare feet making squeaking sounds on the floor as she tried to pull back. Her long hair swung wildly about as her small breasts jiggled. "I can't wait to see this girl flogged," one man in the audience said to his female companion. "Neither can I," the woman answered. "And oh how I'd love to kiss on those pretty boobies of hers." "I should say so," he said to this. "They're round and perfectly formed, not even fully developed yet." A long strap of leather had been lowered from the ceiling, and the two men brought Aimee to stand beneath it. One of them lifted her, and the other wound the strap about the girl's wrists, cinching them together and into the strap. Once she'd been secured, the man holding her loosed his grip, and Aimee dropped to simply hang. Her toes stretched to find the floor, but they were inches from behind able to touch it. She'd been suspended in the air. "That should teach you not to give us trouble," the taller of the two men said as he ripped the loincloth from her crotch, leaving her totally naked. As the two men walked away, Aimee looked around herself, and when she saw the many faces gazing at her, she wished desperately that she'd never left her little village. Hanging before all of these people, she had not a stitch of clothing on, and, worst of all, Sam Fong was going to have her whipped! She didn't know if she could bear such a thing, especially in front of an audience. But she had no choice. She was naked, and she was tied fast. It was Sam Fong himself who would administer the whipping. He was a malicious sort and enjoyed trading in the vulnerable girls of his own homeland of China. He liked to flog untouched girls; those who'd never tasted hot leather on their tender flesh. And he was advancing toward Aimee, carrying a short, braided whip with a large, wooden handle. This handle had been carved into a fierce dragon and painted with bright, red lacquer. He was brandishing the whip menacingly, swinging it to and fro. Aimee's eyes filled with a stark terror when she saw this instrument of pain, and she began fighting at the bindings as it fully dawned on her that this whip was going to be used on her naked flesh. Fong, with a leering smile on his face, bowed to the audience in a formal manner and then commenced to flog his victim. And it was a savage flogging. Fong knew that the patrons of his secret club paid to see females in suffering, and he intended to give them what they wanted. Aimee shrieked at the first lick of the whip, a red-hot stripe straight across her nude buttocks. "Awwh!" she yelled out. "It is so awful!" And this brought an immediate smile to the face of each person in the audience, Orrin North especially. He knew that he'd be taking this China teen-girl to his secluded mansion that night, and, if he had his way, she would never go back to Sam Fong. Fong walked around the girl, using the whip on her at random, swinging the tool forcefully. He punished her buttocks and back. Then he came forward and concentrated on the smallish breasts, whipping at the flawless orbs until the richly brown nipples swelled tightly and became engorged with a purplish colour. "No! No!" Aimee kept screaming with each crack of the whip, but her cries did her no good. She was the victim of the crowd, one suffering for the pleasure of many. Fong seared the leather up and down the girl's legs, and when he thrashed at the little feet, they flailed wildly, spreading apart far enough to give the audience a view of the inner folds of her most intimate crevice. Fong smiled with pleasure at this target, an open pubis. He began swinging the whip at it, expertly striking at the inner vaginal flesh and causing his victim's screams to grow still shriller. "Not there!" the Chinese girl shrieked. "You can't whip me there!" But, of course, Fong could, and he did so with a mad glee, punishing the pubis until it was red and pulsating with an unspeakable pain! When the evil Chinaman was done with whipping the dangling girl, her body was covered with red and purple stripes, and her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Her body quivered, each bit of her flesh quaking. Her head drooped forward, her hair falling over her punished breasts. With the eyes of a man who sells bondage photos, Orrin peered closely and saw just what he was looking for. There were tiny drops of moisture appearing on the surface of Aimee's smooth pubic mound. She may have suffered, but her inner loins had experienced at least some degree of arousal! Orrin North was a man who knew how to deepen that sort of arousal. ___ Chapter.4 The only sign of civilization anywhere near Orrin North's house was a small village, but this village was several miles away, giving North the seclusion he needed for the enslaving of young Chinese girls into photo bondage. Unbeknown to most, a second house existed on Orrin North's property. There was a long, rutted lane that bordered his vast estate. This lane led to a mansion that had been deserted in the late 1800's, hidden in the deep forest. For many decades, the residents of the village had thought the old mansion to be haunted. An occasional hiker or two had seen strange lights or heard eerie sounds, real or imagined, and that was all it had taken for the rumours to get started. Eventually, the ghost stories were told less, and as they faded from memory, they ceased to be handed down. Thus, the old mansion was completely forgotten. This was a perfect place for realistic bondage photography and for keeping girls captive. There was no one around for miles, no one to hear the screams that echoed through the dusty hallways. Much of the original furniture and decorations were still in it, portraits of military men and life-size statuary. In the deep cellars, there were cages and shackle-chains mounted to the walls and ceilings, a hint that the original owners might have been involved in some form of slave trade, and Orrin had filled a few of the upper rooms with torture equipment and the lights and cameras of the photographer's trade. Many an unfortunate Oriental girl had writhed in agony before these cameras. *** Lothar was without the hood he often wore, staring at the naked Chinese girl in the cage. His large head was shaved, his eyes beady and menacing. "We're going to let you out of that cage now, Li, if you think you can behave yourself," he said to her. "Are you ready to obey?" "Yes, I will obey," the girl replied in a shaky voice as one of the guards opened the cage door. She was a petite creature with globe-like breasts and traditionally longish hair that fell around her shoulders, now in disarray. Still, she hung back, huddled against the iron bars, frightened of Lothar. Her hands were fastened in front of her with a short, heavy chain with a manacle at each end. Lothar reached in, grabbed her by the elbow, and snatched her out. "You're going to be allowed upstairs now," he said to her, "and there you'll learn what happens to a girl when she doesn't follow orders. You're going to learn obedience, and you're going to be beaten, you little whore." "No, I do not want that," she pleaded in her musical, Asian voice. "Oh, you don't," Lothar said with a hearty laugh and shoved her down to her knees on the filthy stone floor. "Well, I'll just have to give you a sample of what you have to look forward to." As he spoke, he withdrew a leather riding quirt from his belt loop and swung it upward to bring it down squarely on the shoulders of the cringing nude. "Nooo!" the girl shrieked. "I will go. I will go!" But the huge man gave her several more swift strokes of the leather tool before he permitted her to rise. Only then did he tow her up the stone stairs that led to the main rooms of the deserted mansion. Li was truly terrified now. She'd been in this house for almost three days. Lothar and two of Orrin North's henchmen had brought her here directly from the hold of the smugglers' ship. Immediately upon her arrival, they'd taken her clothes from her, stripping her down to the nude. Then a woman named Vanessa had taken her outside and washed her with cold water and stiff-bristle brush. The China girl had only a few, faint wisps of pubic hair, but Vanessa had held her down and scalped them off with a razor, shaving Li to pure bareness. "Now get back inside," Vanessa had commanded. "We're going to take pictures of you immediately." "I do not want my picture taken while I am naked," Li answered. That's when she'd been caged. Two guards had held the girl while Vanessa used a wooden switch on the golden buttocks. Then they'd manacled the girl and locked her into the iron cage. She'd been in there for two days, and she had no idea of what might happen to her now. Reaching the main floor, Lothar hauled her up still another staircase to the second story and then to a large chamber that had been a parlour and sitting room at one time. Much of the century old furniture was still there intact. This was no photo session. Li was going to be disciplined into submission, and at this, Lothar was a practiced professional. "You're going to take a little ride," Lothar said to her as they entered the room. He was pointing to a block of wood in the centre of the faded, Persian carpet, one of Orrin's custom made tools of torment. The block was a foot square and stood about a foot and a half high, heavy and solid. A wooden phallus had been inserted and nailed into the top of this block, the phallus being in the very centre and covered with a sheath of leather. Iron rings were attached at two sides of the block, several inches from the floor. "Now you can kneel down in front of that," Lothar said as he brought the frightened girl near the block. "Before your ride, you're going to learn something of cock sucking." As he issued this order, he removed the chain and manacles from her slim wrists. Once she'd been unfettered, Li was quick to fall to her knees in front of the block. As she got to the floor, she saw that the leather-covered shaft was covered with a some sort of liquid. This liquid had almost magical properties. In addition to procuring girls from China, Orrin North was also able to purchase potions and elixirs from the Far East, strange mixtures of little known herbs and roots that produced miraculous results. The liquid that coated the shaft was a powerful aphrodisiac. When it was tasted or touched to the body's more sensitive areas, it could drive one to sexual frenzy. "Have you ever sucked cock before," Lothar said to the girl on the floor as he brandished the quirt. Li could only stare up at the man, a look of confusion in her dark eyes. Her limited English didn't include the terms he was using. "Suck! Suck! Suck with your mouth," Lothar snapped at her as he shoved her face toward the shaft. He pointed to the shaft and then to her mouth. "Put that in your mouth and suck!" Li now understood, and she put her mouth to the coated phallus, the liquid stinging her lips. Lothar pointed to the front of his trousers, where a bulge was now forming. The man was excited at the sight of a nude Chinese teenager on her knees with a cock-like shaft in her mouth. "Pretend it's this," he said when she looked sideways to see him pointing at the erection in the trousers. "Suck!" Timidly, the girl went to her assigned task, bending forward and slurping gently at the leather-covered phallus. She'd never done anything remotely like this. But the liquid began to take effect on her libido once it touched her tongue, and she felt an odd pulsation building within her loins. It was the pulsation of arousal, triggered by the imported potion. Vanessa was entering the room, resplendent in a dress of deep purple and tall black boots. Her red hair was pulled back tightly. "Well, I see our new whore is learning her trade," she said to Lothar when she joined him. "How's she doing?" "Off to a slow start, I'm afraid," he said, still staring down at Li, "but the potion's beginning to take effect. She'll be picking up the pace soon enough." "Oh, let's not mollycoddle this naked slut," Vanessa said in a quick retort. "The surest and fastest way to teach a girl is with leather punishment." She went to a closet, coming back with short, three-thonged whip. She stood behind Li, taking aim with the vicious instrument and then striking the globes of the naked buttocks. "Suck on that thing with a bit of vigour," the red-haired woman said as she brought the whip down again. "You'll be lapping on the real thing soon enough, and you'd better learn well right now. If you fail to do it correctly with a man, I'll beat you senseless, little girl." The tall and sadistic Vanessa began flogging the buttocks to spur the girl on, but Li was already responding more in the fashion that was being demanded of her. The potion was effusing her young flesh with a strange sort of bliss, and she began to take pleasure in debasing herself as such. She lapped and licked with increasingly enthusiasm, gripping the phallus with her hands even as the searing pain of the whistling thongs invaded her wagging buttocks. "Uhhh," came from deep within the girl as she received an especially swift lick, the sound of the groan mumbling around the shaft buried in her mouth. "You're doing better, Li," Vanessa sneered. "Perhaps we'll let you ride our lovely prong." After whipping Li's brown back to a deep pinkish colour. Vanessa told her to stand. Then she and Lothar began working in unison. Once the girl had risen, Vanessa positioned her to stand over the block, one bare foot on each side of it, the sides with the iron rings attached. "Sit yourself down," the woman said to Li. "Let that prong go up inside of your pussy." Li looked at her aghast, her eyes beseeching the woman for mercy. "Do it or you'll take an all-day whipping," Vanessa said, her tone stern. Sensing that she'd best do as ordered, Li, in a gingerly fashion, sat herself, trying to let the prong into her pubis. But she was a girl with a taut crevice, and it was slow going. Vanessa hurried her along with a few well-placed licks of the whip until, at last, she was sitting with the shaft well up inside of her pubis. Lothar was coming forward with the necessary restraints. "Hands behind you, servant girl," he told her. When Li complied, he seized her wrists, crossing them and securing them together with a short belt. Her knees were bent and on the floor, forward of the block. Lothar took each of the ankles in turn and cinched them to the rings at the sides of the block. This left Li's feet lifted off of the faded, ornate carpet, the soles of the nude feet upturned. "That should hold her well," he said, "but we want our photo-whore to accustom herself to the rigors of bondage." In reality, the man simply enjoyed the act of rendering a naked, young girl helpless, the more helpless the better. Next, he clasped a leather collar about her neck. The collar had a steel D-ring sewn into the front of it, and to this, he attached a leader strap. There was another ring in the floor near the front of the block, and Lothar tied the free end of the leader strap into it. "I don't think she'll be going anywhere during her shaft-ride," he beamed as he admired the way he'd bound her up, rubbing his hands together gleefully. "No, she certainly won't," Vanessa said as she too stood back and surveyed the girl who was now so well secured. "Ah, there's just nothing like a bare young thing in restraint. So many possibilities suggest themselves." Li was fidgeting about involuntarily, unable to keep still as the prong and the liquid stimulated her. Already, the outer folds of her sex were going into surface-orgasms. Ohing sounds came from her mouth as the arousal in her pubis became mixed with the pain of the whipping she'd undergone, and this precisely what her captors wanted. They were training Li for bondage posing, and they needed models that could suffer and orgasm simultaneously. "Pump yourself at that shaft," Lothar ordered. "Fuck your pussy at it." Vanessa picked up the whip and slashed it over the back of the girl. "You'll do just that," she said. "You'll fuck that slutty pussy of yours at that thing inside of you. Now start fucking unless you wish to taste more leather." Li hardly needed urging. The potion had taken hold of her, and she began driving herself at the artificial cock with an ever-growing need. She cared not how she might be degrading herself at this point. Her need for sexual release was beginning to outweigh all else. "Orrin brought in a new girl named Aimee last night," Vanessa commented in a businesslike way as they watched Li's antics, "one of Sam Fong's whore dancers. She's delicious." "How soon before we can get her under the leathers?" "Shouldn't be too long," Vanessa said, her face glowing as Li became ever more animated. "He'll lull her into complacency for a few days and then make the necessary arrangements with Fong. After that, she'll learn too late what she's gotten herself into." Orrin laughed at this. He knew Orrin North's methods well. And as Li worked faster at the shaft in her, he, too, beamed at the nude girl's progress. He took a certain amount of pride in his ability to train a girl into servility. "We might just as well be enjoying some of the fruits of our labours," Vanessa said when it was clear that the Chinese girl was in full arousal and entering an orgasmic state. She walked over to Li and removed the leader strap from the collar. Then she stood directly in front of the girl and lifted her dress and lowered her undergarments. Li's mouth opened wide and let out a moan. She'd gone into full orgasm, and Vanessa took advantage of the moment to press her sex to the girl's parted lips. "Since you've been taught to suck so well, you can suck on my cunt," she said to Li as she pushed herself at the girl's face. Such was Li's abandon that she fell to the task eagerly, kissing at the woman's sex. Vanessa's crotch was covered with fuzzy, red hair, and Li's tongue went straight through it to begin lapping at the warm pubis. Vanessa slammed her hips back and forth, shoving her sex at the girl's mouth. "This whore's doing all right for a beginner," she said to Lothar. Within a minute, the red-haired woman was having climax on Li's face, her juices spattering out over the girl's lips and tongue. "Satisfactory, I'd say," she said when she was done. "I'll be off now. I'm sure you have plans for her mouth yourself." Lothar did indeed. Li was writhing at the block, her hands struggling at the belt that held them together, feet twisting in tight circles as she progressed through different levels of orgasm. Lothar was standing in front of the girl now, taking his erect member out of his trousers and pointing it at her mouth. "My turn," he said. "Let's see how much you've learned about cock sucking." Already, Li had begun to understand that it was best to obey, and she opened her mouth to accept the bulging dick into her wet mouth. Her pubis was drumming heavily at the shaft, the potion still spurring her on, and she sucked eagerly at Lothar's stiff manhood. "And you'll be photographed in bonds," he said as he closed his eyes and fucked her mouth. "We'll make you into a photo slave now, and you've no choice but to accept our wishes." But Li barely heard these words. Her loins were shaking through yet another orgasm. ___ Chapter. 5 It was clear to Aimee that Fong had rented her to Orrin North to be used a toy, but she thought little of it. She was happy to be to out of the clutches of the evil Sam Fong even if only for a few days. As a girl who'd grown up close to nature, Aimee found Orrin's house to be gloomy and antiquated, but, after sleeping on a cot in Fong's basement, she felt quite comfortable. Orrin allowed her a spacious bedchamber with a huge four-poster bed, and she was quickly lulled into a sense of ease. She had no idea that she was becoming ensnared into the slavery of photo-bondage. She would be taken to the deserted mansion out in the forest, and the dilapidated old house would ring with her screams. She'd left her belongings at Sam's club, and her clothing was taken from her as soon as she arrived at North's home. But she was given very short dress of thin, dark-blue silk to go about in, though no undergarments or footwear. Orrin was busy some of the time, attending to his paperwork or supervising photography sessions at the secret mansion, but he allowed time for Aimee and certainly enjoyed her presence. The Chinese girl looked beautiful against the backdrop of his antique furnishings, so fresh and young as she walked barefoot through the dim rooms. He used her sexually, gently at first, gradually becoming more demanding. Aimee was compliant, even enjoying his physical attentions somewhat, though she felt as if she were being used as piece of bought goods. "I'd love to have you stay on here, Aimee," North said to her on her second morning there. "You could act as my aide, a personal companion, if you will." It took a few moments to understand. "Oh, I cannot do that, Mr. North," she answered. "I work for Mr. Fong." "I understand all of that," he said, "immigration problems and all. Oh, yes, I know about that, but I can have you released from Sam and his threats. All I have to do is make a telephone call to him. And, of course, he'd want a handsome price for you, but I'm willing to pay it. I think you'd be well worth the money." Aimee saw that she'd gotten herself into a position where she could be bought and sold, owned by others. She was alone in a foreign country and becoming more frightened of the entire situation. But she felt as if it would be far better to be bought by Orrin North than to remain in the web of Sam Fong. "Thank you, sir," the girl said to him. "I would like to stay here." Orrin left the room and returned within minutes. "It's all settled," he said when he came back. "I called Sam Fong, and we agreed on a price for you. You'll stay here, and you don't have to answer to Fong any longer. You're mine now." As he spoke, his eyes roved over her bare legs, and once again, Aimee felt truly like a piece of goods, purchased by the highest bidder. Aimee wasn't exactly sure how she felt about this turn of events. It was if Orrin North owned her now, but anything seemed better than being under the thumb of Sam Fong. She didn't know that dancing in the nude and accepting an occasional flogging was little indeed in comparison to the ordeals she would soon be forced into. Someone so young and naive wouldn't imagine that she'd be compelled to be nude and bound for hours at a time or used for the darker sexual passions. She would be whipped for the entertainment of others, suffer endlessly, used as nothing more than an object of tortured. She would learn to grovel at the feet of her masters. "I thought the news that you were free of Sam Fong would make you happy, Aimee," North said to her. "Instead, you say nothing." His tone had changed to one of stern authority. "I am sorry, Mr. North," Aimee said, stumbling over her words in fear. "I thank you so much. Sam is a terrible man." "That's better, my girl," he said and began walking from the room. "I'll speak to you later about my way of doing things." That afternoon, Orrin's attitude toward Aimee changed still more. He had his houseman summon the girl to his library. There, for the first time, she was to see the forbidding-looking Lothar, and she gave a start at the sight of him. He was standing next to Orrin's desk, so large, his shaved head and beady eyes giving him the appearance of the cruel man he truly was. Orrin was sitting behind a wide, mahogany desk. "This is Lothar, Mr. Lothar or sir to you, Aimee," he said as he rose and came from behind the desk. "Lothar is one of one my closest associates, and, from now on, you will answer to him just as you would to me. You're in service to me now, you know." Aimee gave a quick nod of understanding, her bare feet fidgeting at the wooden floor. "Yes, sir," she mumbled. "I understand." "You'd better understand, my girl," he said. "I have very little patience with disobedience. Now you're to remove your dress." Aimee was taken aback at this. She been naked, of course, in front of Orrin, and in front of Fong's audiences, but to simply remove her clothing before a man she'd just met and in such an ordinary room seemed shocking to her. But the stares of the two men propelled her into action. She got out of her one garment and stood there in the nude as their eyes scrutinized her youthful figure. Lothar marched up to her, seized her wrist, and began leading her to the other side of the room where two wooden posts were mounted into the floor. "I don't tolerate disobedience either," he said as he hauled the girl along, "and you're going to learn something of how we deal with it." The posts were several feet apart and stood about a yard high. An iron ring was solidly affixed to the top of each post. Lothar stood the bare girl between them, tied leather straps to each of her wrists and then secured the straps' opposite ends to the rings, drawing her arms out tightly. She was forced to stand with her arms outspread. "That should keep you in one place," he chuckled, "but, if you're going to be beaten properly, we'll need more bindings, won't we?" Aimee gave a sudden tug at the straps. "Beaten?" she gasped. "What do you mean? Orrin came to stand before her. "You will not question, Aimee," he said, his tone flat. "You will simply obey. I was going to have only your backside flogged this afternoon, but that little outburst just earned your pussy a few well-deserved licks of the strap." "But I..." she began. "Your pussy just garnered several more licks," he said to this, interrupting her. "You have no say in what we do with you. You have no way out of here, and I can inform the proper authorities of covert smuggling activity just as easily as Fong can." With a sinking heart, Aimee stared at the man, wide-eyed in the realization that she'd fallen into the hands of yet another cruel master. Lothar was binding the girl up still more, fixing straps to each of her ankles and tying the opposite ends around the bottoms of the posts. Aimee was now held with her legs spread open, her pubis fully exposed. Orrin was still standing in front of her, several feet away. But when Aimee heard a snapping sound behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see that Lothar was holding a leather strap in his right hand, clearly ready to whip her with it. She turned to Orrin, her dark eyes pleading for mercy. But North simply snorted at this silent plea. "Don't act coy with me, my pretty little China girl," he said. "I saw what happened to your pussy when Sam Fong gave you a public beating. There was juice running from your slit. It's true, isn't it?" "You do not understand what I went through," she tried to tell him, but North paid no attention." "Begin her flogging whenever you're ready, Lothar," he said. "Let's teach her how we deal with young whore-girls. I want to stand in this spot and observe." Lothar pushed the girl's long, thick tresses over her right shoulder, then stood back and took aim with the strap. Aimee's youthful body had recovered quickly from the whipping she'd suffered at the hands of Sam Fong. Thus, Lothar had pristine flesh to work with, a faultless canvas upon which to create. He striped her back, drawing a crisscross pattern of strap marks across it, the instrument flashing through the air with a machine-like precision. "No...No..." the nude girl babbled as the first fiery strokes bit into her tender skin. But the lash continued to torment her unprotected flesh. Next off, Lothar gave the buttocks a sound and thorough thrashing, turning the light-brown skin a dull reddish hue. He was a man well versed in lashmanship, and he was using all his expertise to extract maximum anguish from his victim, a chore he was enjoying greatly. But now Aimee was rising up on her toes, her wrists straining at the bindings that held them, the smooth hillock of her sex pressing forward. She began a continual moaning, soft guttural sounds bubbling from between her full lips. And as her breasts became swollen, the nubs springing forth in stiff erection, she felt a terrific stirring deep within her pubis, the ancient arousal of the female sacrificed to ritualised agony. Her sex-fluids began flowing in a visible manner, the liquid oozing itself out from the taut line of her crevice. With the cunning of an experienced master, North saw clearly the state Aimee had entered and knew it was time to change method. "Hold up for a minute," he said to Lothar. "She needs to be readied for the pussy flogging I promised her. I need to sensitise her." From the drawer of a nearby table, he took out several implements. The first was a stiff penis-like shaft, covered with hundreds of hard and pointed leather spikes. He stood before the bound girl, spread her outer pubic lips, and ran the shaft up and down the inner slit." "Uh, what are you doing to me?" Aimee gasped out as the spikes scraped against her clitoris, causing the already-enlarged nub to swell even more. "Just giving your pussy the attention it needs," Orrin chuckled. Finished with the shaft, he picked up a piece of finely toothed sandpaper. With one hand he squeezed the folds of the irritated pubis together and then used the sandpaper on it, chafing the skin and causing Aimee to undulate her girlish hips in a circle. But Orrin held the pubis tightly, scraping the pussy down to his satisfaction. He had the Chinese girl writhing now. She was shifting her weight from one bare foot to the other, the little toes scrunching under. "My skin...it hurts," she moaned. Paying no attention to her, Orrin picked up his last tool, a set of tongs, the sort used to lift hot coals about in the fire. With these, he clamped her outer pubic lips together and squeezed the handles until cream ran from Aimee's slit. He twisted the tongs first in a clockwise motion, and then in the opposite direction, torturing the smooth flesh until it was pulsating. Aimee couldn't speak. She could only lean her head backward, groaning in her pain. Orrin set the tongs aside and held the pubis in the palm of his hand, cupping it firmly. "Just like a fresh, spring peach," he said. "The juices running so freely and warm. But it's time for her cunt flogging, Lothar. Take the strap to it. Whip it good." Still standing behind the girl, Lothar lowered the lash-strap to the floor and brought it straight up between Aimee's legs to strike the aggravated pubis. The air filled with the sound of leather crackling on nude flesh. Aimee screamed. "Yaa!" she cried out. "I have had too much." The girl had catapulted into full orgasm, the thrashing goading her into the odd bliss of pain and orgasmia combined. Her pelvis slammed itself back and forth as if she were being rammed by the strongest of men, her long hair flying about as she wrenched at the bindings that held her in place. Again and again she screamed her agony and pleasure. Lothar and Orrin exchanged knowing looks. They'd found their newest posing girl, a new slave to photo-bondage. Deciding to let Lothar be the one to reap the benefits of the state they'd driven the China girl into, Orrin departed, knowing well that his colleague would soon be inserting himself into the tawny folds of the girl's pussy. "You need the real thing," Lothar said when he was done with whipping her. The man freed his member and wedged it into the orgasming pubic mound. Within a few mighty strokes, he gratified himself, unleashing his cream into the girl while letting out the guttural groans of animal satisfaction. He glared down at his captive, revelling in taking this full possession of her body. But Aimee had lost all touch with the room around her. She felt only surge after surge of the orgasmic tremors that had been forced into her. *** That evening, Orrin met with Lothar and Vanessa, a business meeting to discuss coming photo shoots and the best way of working with their present China girls, Aimee and Li. Up to a certain point, North wanted Aimee pampered for a few days. "Of course, she's to be given daily floggings for the sake of her discipline," he told them. "We'll start her off on a system of rewards and punishments. Soon enough, she'll simply be beaten into submission." "Letting her have a look at Li's situation should help with keeping her in line," Vanessa remarked, even now relishing the thought of Li's body. "Indeed," Orrin agreed. "Take her out to the old mansion and let her see Li caged. I doubt she'll want to wind up in the same situation." North then went on to tell them about a short journey he was about to make. He was going up the coast to see a friend, a fellow dealer of China-flesh. "He's just smuggled in two new teenage slave girls," he told them, "and I want to have a...well, a look at them, if you know what I mean." Indeed they did. This fellow dealer, Kyle Waller, traded in the smuggling of Chinese girls and ran a very private brothel of sorts, a brothel catering to the most exotic of fetishes. There, Orrin could find fresh bodies to practice his deviant interests on. "If Waller's interested, I might work out some sort of trade as far as Li goes," North said to them. "I'm about ready to sell her anyway." "Until your return, we'll work with the pretty Miss Aimee," Lothar chuckled. "I'm sure you will," Orrin replied. "By the time I get back, she should be ready to go before Edmund's cameras." Their business was concluded. Such was the talk of those who bought and sold the bodies of unsuspecting young girls. ___ Chapter. 6 Those who engage in the desires of midnight require seclusion. Like Orrin North, Kyle Waller lived far from others in a manor house that could be reached only by a narrow, private lane. The lane wound its way through a dark and forbidding forest that bespoke the terrors of the unknowing China girls he victimized, girls without the means to escape his clever snares. Yes, Kyle Waller occasionally sold photographs of young Chinese girls. In these photos, the bound nudes seemed frozen in time, their screams endless, their struggles never ceasing. But the selling of photos was only a small sideline with Waller, a diversion. His chief business was in using his girls as slave-whores. For handsome prices, wealthy fetishists, both men and women, could rent a China girl for any and all indulgences of perversion. These were people who delighted in doing as they chose with girl-flesh. And the teen-nymphs under Waller's control had no recourse but to accept their fate. They were captive receptacles of lust, forced to writhe beneath the rod, the lash, and the cane. Waller would even sell a girl outright for the right price, and the buyer would then own a slave to use incessantly. Of course, Kyle and Orrin had much in common, and Orrin enjoyed visiting his friend and colleague immensely. It gave him the opportunity to practice his deviant whims on Waller's ever changing stable of Chinese girls. The two men would conduct business, but their leisure was spent in the torture of Waller's latest captives. "Yes, she's quite lovely," Kyle was saying as he looked through the photographs of Li that North had brought along with him. "Seems compliant enough as well." The photos showed Li in highly rigorous bondage, the hooded Lothar using a riding crop on her. "We've had a few behavioural upsets with her," Orrin told him, "but, of course she has little choice but to comply. It's that or take more punishment than she already does." As he spoke, a young Chinese girl entered the ornate drawing room where the two men were sitting side by side in wingback chairs. Her body was slender, her black hair hanging in loose strands about her shoulders. All that covered her was a leather thong tied low on her hips that had triangular, leather flaps hanging over both her pubic mound and a portion of her buttocks. She carried a coffee service on a silver tray. "Very good, Mei," Kyle said as the girl set the tray on a low table before the two chairs. Then he turned to Orrin. "Mei is one of the girls I just brought in," he said. "Thus far, she's working out well, been trained in servanthood in her homeland from what I've been able to gather. She's cooperative with my clients, taking her floggings well." With her lush breasts jiggling slightly, the almost-naked girl knelt and poured coffee into two cups and then placed the palms of her hands of her knees, eyes downcast, ready to serve if needed. Kyle and Orrin continued to discuss Li, paying little attention to the girl on the floor. She was a mere slave, not worthy their notice unless they were in a mood for flogging girl-flesh or using a female opening for sexual purposes. "And you're thinking of selling this girl?" Kyle was saying as he set the photos aside. "Selling or trading, working out some sort of arrangement," Orrin said. "Well, I don't see why you and I can't strike a bargain," Kyle said with a grin. "I wouldn't mind taking her in, for a while at least." The men had a bit of coffee and then Kyle was anxious to display the other girl he'd recently acquired. "She's being readied for punishment as we speak," he said to Orrin. The two men arose and left the room. A long, gloomy hallway led them to a door that opened out onto the neglected back lawn and gardens. After walking through a portion of the gardens, using a shaded pathway of flagstones, Kyle pointed to a clearing in the midst of grove of tall trees. "That's where Cho will be punished," he said, "between those two posts. She was a bit reluctant in following a command last night, and you know how I feel about making certain, right from the start, that these girls understand that they're to obey immediately and without question." "Indeed I do, and I'm in full agreement." Orrin could see two high and heavy timbers standing in the centre of the clearing. They were vine-grown, solidly embedded in the earth and spaced about two yards apart. Near the top of each post was an iron ring with long, leather strap attached to it. Two housemaids stood nearby plus about a dozen men. Most of the men were dressed in the clothing of workmen, the liverymen, and a few in the garb of butlers. Two were in guards' uniforms. "Where's the girl?" Orrin asked as they stepped out into the clearing and walked toward the posts. "She should be here any minute," Kyle told him. "They're coating the insides of her pussy with one of those sensitising potions you gave me. I want this chastisement to be a thorough one. She'll orgasm before all of these people while having her cunt whipped." Even as he spoke, two guards on horseback were riding into the clearing. The Chinese girl named Cho was being hauled along behind one of the horses, her hands bound together with thongs of leather, the thongs attached to a lengthy leader strap that one guards held in his hand. She was stark naked, her body scalped smooth, including the triangular cleft between her sinewy thighs. Every inch of her flesh was smeared with oil, and her dark hair was becoming disarrayed as she struggled to keep pace with the horses. "Oiled and ready it appears," Orrin remarked as the horses drew near. "Yes, full punishment," was all Kyle said by way of reply. Both men felt as though oil facilitated in the whipping process. It made the victim able to withstand more flogging without the skin breaking, but, even so, it caused the pain to become greater and more penetrating. As the horses drew closer the upright timbers, Cho seemed to guess their purpose and tried to halt. But this merely resulted in her falling to the ground as the horses proceeded on. Thus, she was dragged along through the ragged grass and dirt, twisting about and shrieking her fears. As soon as they drew up next to the posts, the two riders dismounted and leapt quickly to the struggling girl on the ground. Then, with both of them hauling on the leader strap, they towed her to the posts, positioning her between them. "Hoist her up into the inverted position," the taller of the two said. His companion lifted Cho by the waist, raising her ever higher and turning her so that her head was toward the ground, her feet up in the air and kicking wildly. "She'll take her cunt-flogging while hanging upside down," Kyle said to North. The taller guard tied Cho's ankles into the straps that were attached near the tops of the posts, spreading her legs. Once she'd been thus secured, the one holding her released his grip on her waist, and Cho was left dangling by the ankles, her pubis at about the height of a man's chest, the ends of her black brushing the ground. Cho's face was a mask of inverted shock and surprise. She flailed her arms about in the air as her ankles battled the straps that held her aloft. But the two guards weren't done with the restraint. They tied long, leather straps to her wrists and knotted the opposite ends low on the wooden posts, tugging as they did so and drawing the girl out into an X configuration. "Delectable body," Orrin said as the two guards finished the binding process. "Yes, and it's quite responsive," Kyle answered, not taking his eyes from the dangling nude. "The whip will probably drive her pussy quickly to orgasm, especially since her insides have been coated with that potion." Waller stepped before the audience. "I wish to thank all of you for taking time from your busy schedules to witness this girl's punishment," he said. He then went on to tell them of Cho's infraction, stressing that all of his China girls were to obey the members of the household staff. "Perhaps this will remind this girl of her new station in life," he said to them. The two guards who'd fastened the girl up were taking out short, six-thonged whips. One took up a station behind the girl, the other in front of her. "Proceed when ready, gentleman," Kyle said to them as he rejoined Orrin. "Flog her until you feel she's learned a lesson in good manners." As the two men readied their fiendish tools, the audience looked on in a mixture of fascination and lust. The males had bulges in their trousers, and many of the women had a lecherous glint in their eyes. It was a vicious thrashing. Before concentrating on the pubis, they gave her an all over body flogging. The man in the back whipped the shoulders and buttocks, the one in front working on the breast-mouldings. Cho cried out, her howls filling the wooded glen, as she was so painfully humiliated. "I will obey!" she shrieked out as the leather burned into her flesh. "Do not whip me!" "Once they're under the lash, they all claim they'll obey," Kyle laughed. "But it's the whip that ensures obedience," North said. North thought little of what he was saying. His enjoyment of this woodland flagellation was intense. Cho was wrenching at the leather bindings, her hair sweeping the ground as she fought the straps. Her breasts were becoming engorged, the brown nipples stiffening. And then the sex whipping began, the six-thonged instruments of horror striking the shaven, open pubis. The guards took turns at striking the girlish mound. No sooner would one lash be lifted than the next would fall. The man standing in front of the girl was especially expert at the craft of whipsmanship. Not only was he fond of inflicting punishment on the bodies of young girls, but also he did so in an overzealous manner. As he whipped at Cho's pubis, he lectured her as well. "You'll be taught to follow orders, you little whore," he spat out, "and that's all you are now, a whore, a whipping-whore." "That's Olaf doing the talking," Kyle told Orrin. "He's very good at teaching a girl subservience." Cho's sex was visibly pulsating now, the whips drawing moisture from out of the crevice, and her cries of suffering were becoming mixed with the guttural moans of arousal. Clearly, she was escalating toward orgasm. Her body was twisting uncontrollably in the leather straps, and she'd broken out in a light coating of perspiration. The perspiration mixed into the oil she'd been coated with, giving the brown flesh an even higher sheen. She began slamming her pubis back and forth, just as if she were engaged in sexual intercourse. "She's about to go into climax," one of the housemaids giggled to another. "How shameful." "All of the China girls that Mr. Waller imports are like that," her companion whispered. "I think they actually enjoy running around naked in front of others." The man behind Cho stepped away. Olaf would finish the flogging, using all of his expertise to extract a full measure of suffering from the victim while still forcing her into orgasm. "Everyone can see that you're about to cum," he barked at the hanging girl, "and I'll whip your cunt until you do." As he spoke, he delivered three well-aimed strokes that caught the area of the swollen clitoris sideways. "Uhhh," came from Cho's mouth. As Olaf escalated the pace of the pubic-whipping, Cho thrashed through orgasm. Juices were spurting out of her slit. Each time the thongs struck, they came away with a bit more sex-moisture on them. Her body spasmed with the pain and the pleasure both, her hands and feet fluttering in the air. "Awww!" she screamed when she reached her greatest peak. When it was done with, Cho went limp in the bindings, her pubis still twitching. The glen was quiet save for the sounds of the birds in the trees, a gentle wind, and Cho's rapid breathing. "Leave her hanging there for about an hour," Kyle said to the guards as the rest of his employees began drifting away, going back to their duties. "She'll think twice before balking at an order from now on." Then Waller and North left as well. *** But Cho wouldn't be staying long at the home and brothel of Kyle Waller. That night, over coffee and brandy, Waller and North worked out a deal whereby Li and Cho would simply be traded outright, each girl having her own particular value. From everything he'd gathered of Li, Kyle felt as if she would be extremely popular with those wishing to purchase girl-flesh, while Orrin was of the opinion that Cho would make an excellent photo slave. "It seems we're in agreement here, my friend," Kyle said once they'd talked it over. "And now I'm assuming that you'd like to have one of my girls for the night." Orrin's smile said that the answer was a most emphatic yes. ___ chapter. 7 Aimee's first session of bondage posing took place within the deep cellars beneath the deserted mansion. Two hours before the lights and cameras were even set up, Lothar walked her down the lane that led to the old and crumbling house. He'd allowed her to wear the dress of blue silk, but he'd manacled her hands together in front of her. She wouldn't escape into the dark forest. The house loomed ahead of the girl in a forbidding way. The sky had turned dark with threatening rain clouds, and the weathered structure stood against this backdrop, neglected, the grounds weed-choked. Shingles peeled from the high roof, and many of the shutters were hanging by one hinge. It's very presence seemed to mock Aimee, reminding her of when she'd been taken there the day before to see Li in a cage. She'd been horrified to see the poor girl being kept captive within those iron bars. Even now, as Lothar led her into the gloomy mansion, Aimee shivered at the thought. Vanessa came forward to greet them as soon as they entered the dusty foyer. The woman's unusual craving for Chinese teen-flesh, made her eager to get down to some serious work with this new girl. "Aimee is scheduled to go straight to the cellars today," she said to Lothar. "It's time for her to be caged." With Vanessa leading the way, Aimee was escorted to the wide and heavy portal that opened to the cavernous rooms below the house. The central chamber, where the cages were, had a high, dark ceiling. Long ago, hideous gargoyles had been carved into this ceiling, their tongues protruding in silent and diabolical laughter. The stone floor was chill beneath Aimee's naked feet, and the air was foul with the dank odour of decay. Two heavyset guards were near the cage where Aimee had seen Li. It was empty now, Li having been sent to the home of Kyle Waller. "Strip yourself to the nude, Aimee," Lothar said once he'd removed the manacles. When she took off the one garment, Lothar snatched it from her hands to leave her standing there with nothing, completely unprotected. Vanessa was coming forward, carrying a wooden box filled with a strange powder that had the properties of causing human skin to become inflamed and itchy. She dipped a finger deep into the box, and came it out dusty with the powder. "Spread your legs, my girl," Vanessa said, a sly grin on her lips. When Aimee did as she'd been told, Vanessa rammed the coated finger deep into the girl's smooth crotch, spreading the powder thoroughly onto the vaginal walls. Immediately, Aimee was seized with a huge and driving desire to reach inside herself and scratch at her inner pubis, and she reached a hand toward it. Vanessa twisted her finger cruelly within the mound. "Remain still, or I'll have you put on the torture rack," she said to the girl. Aimee had no idea of what the torture rack might be, but, with a great effort, she kept her hands away from her burning pubis. After dusting the outer lips of the mound, Vanessa strode away, leaving a frustrated Aimee to stand there with the powder's flame still growing in intensity. When the red-haired woman came back, she was carrying a leather chastity belt of sorts. She made Aimee step into it, then pulled it up. Thus, Aimee was left clad in a small pouch covering her pubis, a strip of the leather running between the globes of her buttocks. The belt fastened with buckles in the back and on the sides, and it was outfitted with locking clasps. Vanessa strapped the contraption onto Aimee's hips, drawing it tightly before securing the locks. Inside the leather pouch were tiny spikes of steel that Aimee hadn't been aware of until Vanessa began pulling the pouch so firmly into her private flesh. As the thing was drawn onto her, it spread the pussy lips and bit into the inner and outer portions of the sex-mound. Finished with the buckling and locking, Vanessa stepped back to survey the girl. "Such a perfect little outfit," she said. "And don't try to hide your discomfort, servant girl. I've given this same treatment to many a girl, and I know what it does. It makes you wish for a nice, big cock up inside of you. I can tell by the look on your pretty face how badly you need a fucking." It was true, and Aimee couldn't conceal what was happening to her. The spikes, combined with the inflammatory powder, were causing a tremendous frustration to grow within her vagina, and, not being able to touch herself, she moved her hips in an almost imperceptible back and forth motion, seeking relief. Vanessa laughed at this feeble effort as she raised her hand to one of the guards in a signal. The man came forward, grabbed Aimee by the wrist, and led her off toward the cage. Aimee's nightmare had begun. *** By the time Orrin North came down into the cellars of the old mansion, the photo shoot was ready to commence, Edmund Flint having arrived with his lights and cameras. Cho had been delivered the night before, in exchange for Li, and Orrin had spent much of the day with her, pampering her and soothing her into a false sense of security. Now he was ready to do what he loved most in the world--punish and dominate a helpless China girl. As he strode into the murky chamber of stone, he greeted the others, but his eyes were fixed on the caged Aimee. The girl was seated on the floor, feet curled up next to her buttocks. Her hands gripped the solid iron of the bars as she looked up at her captors. As North came closer, he could see Aimee's eyes pleading with him for mercy, her features twisted into an agonized mask of sexual need and frustration. The powder and the steel spikes were driving her to the brink of delirium. This outward display of inner suffering was a great source of delight to North. This teen-girl was his to use in any and all ways. He stopped several feet from the cage, placing his hands on his hips and stared down at Aimee in a most authoritative manner. "I provide photographs to connoisseurs of the exotic, Aimee," he said in a slow, stern tone, "and I'm paid handsomely for said photos because they're authentic pictorials of very real torture. You, my dear, are now going to begin posing for these photos. That's your value to me. Do you understand?" Aimee's limited English sometimes prevented her from grasping certain concepts, and she shook her head in a no motion. Her loins were still longing for relief, and her features were screwed into that same look of suffering. "We'll just have to demonstrate then," North said with a harsh chuckle as he waved the guards over. The two men knew what to do. They opened the cage door and hauled the almost-bare girl out, then began dragging her across the room. The photo lamps were set up around an iron ladder that was bolted horizontally between four stone posts that stood about a yard high, two at each end. Vanessa waited there. When the guards brought Aimee to her, the woman unlocked the chastity belt and removed it. Then she picked up the box of powder and told Aimee to turn around. "You're in for a rather warm time of it," Vanessa said to the nude girl as she dusted the buttocks, running her powdered finger between the orbs and even putting a dose on the anal opening. "She's ready to be laddered," she told the guards when she was done. Suddenly, Aimee was lifted and laid out on the long ladder, face up, the bars hard and unyielding beneath her tender skin. And then the guards were fastening her down. They pulled her hands out behind her head and cinched her wrists to each side of the apparatus with leather straps. Her ankles were secured similarly, but as they did so, the guards pulled at her, stretching her out. She gasped as her body was strained to maximum tautness. Once Aimee was strapped down, Vanessa came forward again and began applying more of the horrid powder, rubbing a fresh coat inside the pubis and then on the outer lips. The girl had already begun to writhe at the ladder, and more powder increased her movements. "Oh, I know your slutty cunt's aching for attention," Vanessa said as she daubed the powder onto Aimee's breast-nipples. "Don't worry. We'll attend to it soon enough." Lothar and Orrin were standing by ladder. Thus, the Chinese girl was surrounded by fully clothed people, all of them staring hungrily at her as she twisted at the ladder, her body bound and nude. Edmund began clicking away with a tripod-mounted camera, getting numerous shots of this odd tableau. As her onlookers drifted away from the ladder, Aimee looked to one side to see that the guards were standing by a long, shallow trough. And then, to her horror, she saw that the trough was filled with red-hot coals! North saw the terrified expression on the girl's face. "I won't keep you in suspense," he said to her. "We're going to use those coals to torture you. We're going to heat you while we whip your naked pussy." "But...no," Aimee whispered. "No..." Lothar had taken up a stance at the end of the ladder where Aimee's ankles were bound. He had a thick, braided whip in hand, and he ran it teasingly over the sole of her left foot. "Oh, yes," he said, his eyes shining with ardour. Before the whip struck even once, Aimee began struggling at the ladder, pulling at the straps that held her down, her buttocks scraping at iron. The braided flagellation tool sailed through the air and landed squarely on the bare pubis with a loud smacking sound, and Aimee shrieked with the pain of it. This made Lothar's eyes shine even brighter, and he began the flogging in earnest, flailing away at the smooth and captive mound with the enthusiasm of one who loves to see another suffer. The intense frustration that Aimee had been under for hours sent her pubis into immediate surface orgasms. The outer lips spasmed as the whip struck, the orgasms rushing out over her crotch as the powder continued to gnaw at her flesh. "Awhhh!" she cried out. "Nooo!" And as the nude China girl began a low and steady moaning, her back arched high enough to raise her buttocks momentarily from the ladder. Every sinew of her youthful flesh became knotted as she wrenched at the bindings, her sex-juices dribbling from her open pubic slit. Orrin and Vanessa stood to one side of the photo area, watching the proceedings with a perverted glee. "She'll have something to really moan about when we subject her to the coals," he said. "And I believe it's time we started just that." He nodded to the two guards, and they used a set of long, heavy tongs and a fire poker to push and pull the trough toward the ladder, the intense heat of the coals making their faces glow. As they were positioning the trough beneath the ladder, Lothar was changing his whipping technique. He brought the instrument down in a manner that spread the pubic lips still further, the leather grazing the distended clitoris and sending the nub into spasms. Aimee hurled into full orgasms, a strange rapture taking possession of her loins just as she felt the heat of the coals permeating her naked flesh. So caught up had she been in the punishment of the whip that she hadn't really noticed the trough being placed below the ladder. "What...?" she started to mumble when she realized what was happening. "Yes, the coals," Lothar said as he delivered a snapping stroke to the clitoral nub. "Now you can suffer, whipping girl." As the extreme heat of the fiery trough penetrated into her nudity, Aimee shouted her agony, her body going into an animated struggle to free itself of the leather bindings. Through it all, Edmund Flint was taking rapid-fire photos, catching every second of the action, the whipping, the coal-torture, close ups of Aimee's contorted facial expressions. The coals heated the ladder itself, causing the iron rungs to sear Aimee's flesh. She screamed. And as both the whipping and the coal-torture continued, she became delirious. Her body was in extreme pain and intense pleasure at the same time, and she couldn't help but become lost in the orgasmia of sexual servitude. Orrin came close to the ladder and stared down into Aimee's glazed eyes. When he spoke, he knew that she couldn't truly hear him. "Welcome to slavery, Aimee," he said. "Whether you like it or not, you belong to me." ___ Chapter. 8 Unwittingly, Aimee had fallen neatly into one of the many traps used by those in the underground world of the slave trade. The silken dress was taken away from her, and she was forced to go about the house clad in rags, sometimes a scrap of a skirt, but usually nothing more than a tattered loincloth. And she was moved from the luxurious bedchamber and into a large but sparse room on the second floor that had nothing but two, iron-frame cots in it. Aimee was at the beck and call of everyone in the house. She was given the lowliest of chores, and anyone who chose to could make use of her body. Walking through the hallways, she might be accosted by one of the maids or butlers. All of them seemed to enjoy fondling her or making her accept corporal discipline on the spot. "You can suck on this, slave girl," a butler said to her one day while she was dusting in the library. Aimee turned to see that his stiff cock was protruding from his trousers. "Get on your knees and use your mouth," he ordered. And Aimee did as she'd been told. Always, she feared the punishment that might follow any disobedience. But Orrin North was a man who believed in routine discipline. Almost daily, Aimee was summoned to him and taught the rigors of the birch rod. She would have to strip herself to the nude and then get down on all fours for her birching. Orrin would lecture her on obedience while striping her bare buttocks to a bright crisp. It was in her sparse sleeping quarters that Aimee first met Cho. She was lying on her cot when the door burst open. Cho came tumbling in, naked, her shoulders and buttocks bearing fresh whip marks. Lothar stood in the doorway, lash-strap in hand. "This is where you'll sleep, Cho," he sneered. "I'll be back when it's time for your next whipping." Then he exited, slamming the door behind him. Aimee went to the girl's side and helped her to the other cot. Cho needed sleep, but when she awoke, the two girls exchanged the stories of how they'd wound up in the clutches of Orrin North. They used a combination of English and their native language. Cho's story was somewhat different than Aimee's. A smuggler had promised that she would have a job as a dancer waiting when she arrived in this new country. Instead, Kyle Waller had met the ship when it docked. "I was hiding," Cho explained. "Mr. Waller came in with the captain. They made me take my clothing off. Mr. Waller inspected me. Then he gave the captain some money. I still did not know what was happening to me." Of course, Cho hadn't been given a job as a dancer. She'd simply been taken to Waller's isolated estate and enslaved. "I do not know why I am here now," she said. Aimee thought this over. "There was a girl named Li here when I first arrived," she said. "You may have been traded for her." Cho nodded and then asked if there was any way they might escape. Aimee thought not. The house they were in was in a deep forest, and there were guards with dogs patrolling it. "And we have no clothing," she said. "We wouldn't get far." Cho nodded her understanding. *** The most gruelling thing Aimee had to face was being used a slave for photo-bondage. These posing sessions were both painful and degrading. For hours at a time, she was forced to endure the most stringent of restraint, flogged and sex-tortured unmercifully. Many of these sessions were more humiliating than painful. On one sunny afternoon, Flint and Vanessa escorted her into the woods. Here, they removed her one-piece of covering, a ragged, white loincloth. Then they inserted a leather prong deep into her pubis and tied the loincloth back onto her crotch and hips, wedging the shaft solidly into the flesh. Vanessa put a collar and leader strap on the girl and then told her to get down onto her hands and knees. When Aimee was in the prescribed position, the woman led her down an earthen path. Edmund took pictures all the while. The path came out at a clearing, and there, waiting by a tree, was Lothar, wearing the hood. As Aimee was led to the tree, still crawling, she saw that Lothar was holding a length of strong cord in one hand. His lips, visible through one of the hood's slits, were curled into a mocking sneer. She was allowed to stand, but as soon as she was upright, Lothar grabbed her and pushed her against the rough bark of the tree, facing it. Then he pulled her hands around to the other side of it and tied her wrists together with the rope. While he was tying the girl, Vanessa was picking a fresh bouquet of saplings, stripping them of leaves and twigs and tying them together with a red ribbon. "I see you've readied her for a good beating," she said when she returned to the tree, carrying the thin saplings. Lothar nodded, stepping out of the way so Edmund could take clear pictures of Vanessa in the act of flogging the China girl. After brushing Aimee's luxurious tresses to one side, Vanessa stood back and surveyed her target. And then she proceeded to give her bound victim a mean flogging with the flexible saplings, forcing the girl to prance in the grass. She drew red stripes across Aimee's back and shoulders and then began beating the almost-naked buttocks. "I'll wager you wish you had more clothes on now, don't you?" Vanessa asked as she administered a most awful beating. "Yes!" Aimee said. "You should try covering up more often," Vanessa laughed. "Oh, but I keep forgetting how much little sluts like you enjoy parading around without clothing." "I wear what I am given. I have no choice." "Perhaps, but you love showing your body to everyone," Vanessa said to her, still using the bundle of switches non-stop. "You're nothing but a barefoot little tramp, and that's the way I'll treat you!" After Vanessa had flogged the Chinese girl thoroughly, Edmund suggested that they remove the loincloth. "Give her a more active fucking with the shaft," he said. "I want some shots of her creaming on the tree." Lothar took care of it. As Vanessa walked away from the tree, he came forward and fairly tore the loincloth from the captive girl. Then he gripped the end of the prong and began driving it fiercely in and out of Aimee's crevice, viscously screwing it at her and driving her quickly into orgasms. Aimee shrieked as she was thus invaded. Her pussy slammed itself at the tree in rhythm to the shaft, but she thought little of how the rugged bark scratched. Her orgasms were so overwhelming that she was ignoring all else but the pleasure. "Just look at her," Edmund said to Vanessa as he continued taking photographs. "She's learning that her servitude is inevitable." Edmund's words were obscured by the sound of Aimee screaming out in an odd and painful ecstasy. ___ Chapter. 9 Some of the people who purchased photographs regularly from Orrin North received a bonus. He would allow them to spend a few hours or even a whole night with the girl who'd posed for the pictures. During this time, the buyers could do anything they liked with the girl, including thrashing her and using her for sexual purposes. Ephram Cliff was one such client. He was willing to pay small fortunes for the authentic flogging photographs that Orrin North offered for sale. "This girl is certainly delicious, Orrin," he was saying as he looked over two sets of photos of photos that he was considering buying, one of Aimee, the other of Cho. The two men were sitting in one of North's larger drawing rooms in wingback chairs, a small coffee table before them. "Since I can't seem to make up my mind," Ephram chuckled, "I suppose I'll just have to buy both sets of pictures." Cliff could well afford to make such a purchase. The 70-year-old white-haired gentleman was enormously wealthy, and money was no issue with him. "Perhaps a wise choice," North said to him nodding in agreement. "As you say, they're both delicious." This purchase represented a huge profit for him. "And perhaps you'd like to spend the evening with one of them. I'm assuming you'll be staying the night with us. It's far too late to be travelling." "Yes, I'd enjoy that," Ephram replied, "and I believe I'd like to have the company of this girl." He was pointing to a photo of Aimee. In this particular photo, the girl was tied out to a wooden scaffolding of crossed, wooden beams, nude and gagged, fresh whip marks lacing her youthful flesh. He certainly liked her body, but, more than that, he liked the sensuality behind her seemingly innocent eyes. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that girl," Orrin told him. "Later tonight, I'll have her brought to the suite you regularly occupy when you stay with us." "Has she learned to obey?" North laughed. "She'll do as you say or suffer the consequences," he said. "I've had that fact whipped into her. She's been given a fair share of floggings since I took possession her, including plenty of cunt-punishment." Ephram was still ogling the photos of Aimee, dreaming of having her under his control and already imagining the things he could do with her. The man craved the flesh of young girls, Chinese girls in particular. "How does she respond to discipline and punishment?" he asked. "About what you'd expect when it comes to the sheer pain of it, but her body always rewards in the end. She becomes terror-stricken at the very sight of even the lash strap, but her pussy creams like a fountain easily. Pain forces her into climax every time." Ephram Cliff was elated at the prospect of seeing just this. "I'll look forward to meeting her," he said *** Aimee was escorted to Cliff's suite of rooms wearing naught but a scant loincloth of white, but she was freshly bathed, her long hair washed and loose. "You may come and sit next to me, child," Cliff said to her once they were alone. He was sitting on a wide, deep sofa. The lights in the richly furnished were low, a fire burning. He adjusted his bifocals as Aimee came to the couch and seated herself in the place he'd indicated. The elderly man had his long, thin cane near him, and he was dressed in suit of dark grey, a sharp contrast to the so very young and almost-nude Aimee. Cliff didn't become overly demanding with the girl immediately. First, he made her kiss with him just as if they were on a romantic date. He had her curl her bare feet up onto the sofa and then took her into his arms, his cracked lips going to her full, moist mouth. He was hungry to taste her, to feel her, to devour her very youthful freshness. "How sweet your skin is, little girl," he said as he stroked a hand through her long hair and kissed on her breasts, occasionally sucking at one of the pert nipples. Aimee managed to relax and even enjoy the attentions of this very old man. She'd experienced nothing but mistreatment since being in the home of Orrin North, and this was a pleasant change. She had no idea of the horrors that Ephram was capable of meting out. "Are you enjoying my touch, Aimee?" Cliff asked as he reached down and took the loincloth from her body, completely denuding her. "Yes, Mr. Cliff," Aimee answered softly. He ran his wrinkled hands over all of Aimee's smooth girl-flesh, savouring her body's fine texture. He grasped the smooth pubis and squeezed on the round hillock until a bit of moisture leaked from it. "Your pussy is excited," he said, his tone taking on a note of stern authority. "Well, let's just see how you like the taste of my cane." He made her to crawl to the middle of the room on her hands and knees. Once she'd obeyed this command, he walked slowly to her side, leaning on his wooden cane, his eyes shining behind his thick glasses. "Being down on all fours like that leaves your rump in a perfect pose for accepting the cane," he cackled, "and it shall receive just that." Much to the old man's delight, Aimee trembled in an obvious fear of what was about to happen, her buttocks shivering as they awaited the cruel chastisement of the cane. Cliff loved to wreak suffering on the flesh of nude and helpless girls, and, at the moment, he had exactly what he needed, a nubile young creature that had no choice but to do his bidding. And the initial caning he gave her was swift and fraught with an intense pain that quickly turned the dusky hue of buttocks to a deep shade of crimson. "Ohhh!" Aimee cried out after only the third stroke. "My cane does the job," Cliff laughed. "I know how to get results from your sort. I was flogging girlish bottoms long before you were born." Yes, it was so very true. After all, the elderly Ephram Cliff was more than 50 years older than Aimee. He'd had much time to practice his flogging techniques, and now Aimee was the victim of this long experience. He was beating her naked buttocks in a manner that extracted a supreme suffering from her, yet this same technique was producing a strange arousal within her loins. "Spread your knees more," he said, his tone becoming animated with enthusiasm. Trembling still more, Aimee obeyed, and when she did, the cane came upward to strike her quivering pubis." "Yaaah!" she shrieked as her most private spot was struck. "Please do not do this to me!" But this merely served to excite the old gentleman still more, and he flogged at the sex-mound with an even greater vigour. "Crawl to the bed, my girl," he snapped at her. He wanted to see her writhe about while she was in a prone and available position. As Aimee made her way toward the tall four-poster bed, Cliff followed, goading her along by sticking the tip of the cane between her thighs from behind and probing her pubic crevice with the tip of it, twisting it into the moist, tender flesh. He made her lie facedown on the thick covers, her head buried in the pillows then he took up a stance at the side of the bed. Here, he gave her a still more thorough caning, using the wooden instrument on her buttocks, thighs, and the soles of her feet. Aimee's fingers dug into the covers, the pillows muffling her cries somewhat as she endured the horrible beating. Her body wagged to and fro, and her feet fluttered up and down as she was subjected to one painful stroke after another. "This is how naughty girls were kept in line back in my day," Ephram chortled with glee. "And just the threat of it kept them from misbehaving." It was to be a long night for Aimee. When the cane had turned the girl's buttocks the deepest shade of red, Cliff mounted the beaten globes and inserted his hard and wrinkled penis into her anal opening, screwing into the tight crevice with all his might. He didn't consider Aimee's discomfort. He simply gratified himself, using her punished body as the vehicle of his pleasure, her anus as the receptacle of his lust. But Aimee had grown highly susceptible to any and all manner of touch. At times, her body would even equate pain with pleasure, and now, as she was given this most degrading of penetrations, her pubis went into orgasm. And the orgasm spread backward and into her buttocks until her anus was going through the same climatic frenzy! "Mr. Cliff..." she babbled, but then her words became lost in her moaning. But Ephram was far too busy spending himself in her anus to listen. Aimee was to spend the entire night with this elderly man as his sex slave, doing his bidding no matter how odd or agonizing it might be. When Ephram finally allowed her to sleep, he first cinched her wrists together with a leather belt and then used a strap to lash the belt up to the bed's ornate headboard. She would be available through the night. When Aimee did manage to drift into slumber, her sleep was fitful. She knew she was the plaything of this man. He might awaken her with his demands at any time. And awaken her Ephram did. Fascinated with the young Chinese flesh so readily at his disposal, he couldn't keep his hands from the sleeping girl. Aimee would be awakened by pain in her nipples and open her eyes to find Ephram pinching at them, viciously squeezing the brown nubs. Or she might wake up to find him twisting the flesh of her pubic lips. She never knew where she'd be tormented next. And Ephram gave her more floggings. Beating the nude body of a young girl was a powerful aphrodisiac for him. Twice during the night he used a leather strap on Aimee's bare flesh, keeping her tied up to the headboard as he did so. He gave her breast whippings and flogged her smooth pubis until it dripped fresh juices. On both occasions, he drove his weathered cock into the youthful folds of her sex when he was done with the flogging. Ephram's wealth allowed him the leisure of never having to even think about money, but he knew many people in the slave trade and sometimes dabbled in it himself, not for profit but for the sheer joy of controlling innocent girls. And he always dealt with those who traded in Chinese girls. It was in the middle of the night that he made a decision concerning Aimee. As she slept, he gazed at her delicious light-brown nudity, thinking of how delightful it might be to have her as his personal pet and servant girl. He knew that Orrin North had a way of using a girl as a photo slave for a time and then selling her off. Perhaps he might buy this girl from North when the time was right. She was quite special, after all, and how he would love giving her daily discipline! He stared at the smooth, nude pubis before him, imagining the great sport of whipping this tender hillock to a raw redness whenever he chose! ___ Chapter. 10 When a girl became enslaved to Orrin North, she soon learned that the stone rooms below the deserted mansion were to be avoided at all costs. These rooms contained antiquated torture equipment of the most dreadful variety. Most girls learned to do anything possible to keep themselves out of these rooms, and they learned it very quickly. Others had to learn the hard way. "I see you haven't gone anywhere in my absence," Vanessa was saying to Cho with a laugh. They were in one of the cellars' more remote rooms, a high and spacious chamber that could only be reached by a secret tunnel. Cho was hanging on the side of a crumbling, granite column by two long chains; heavy, iron manacles encircled her wrists. Her feet could barely touch the rough, stone floor, and she had no covering save for a few rags tied about her crotch. Vanessa trickled the fingers of one hand over the Cho's torso, teasing the girl. Cho had been hanging there for over an hour. Her flesh was strained, and Vanessa's fingers made her squirm in the fetters. Vanessa smiled. She loved having a girl helpless and at her disposal. Just seeing Cho hanging in chains did something wonderful for her. Whenever she drove into the city these days, Vanessa saw lovely, young girls prancing about in the newer, more revealing fashions. These girls somehow infuriated the woman, and she always wished she could lure a few of them to the cellars and flog some manners into their insolent young rumps. And when she returned to North's remote estate, her anger would goad her into finding some excuse to give one of the slave girls a merciless beating. "You do understand why you have to take punishment today, don't you, Cho?" Vanessa sneered. "No I do not," the China girl replied, her voice beginning to tremble in fear. "I thought I had been punished." Vanessa laughed heartily. "That was just a preliminary," she said. Cho, even though she knew full well that she'd become the property of Orrin North, would still show signs of rebelliousness and sometimes be reluctant to obey orders she found distasteful. Each time she did this, she paid dearly. Vanessa was now going to tame the girl fully. "What was done to you earlier was just to drive the lesson home in an immediate manner," Vanessa said to her, changing her tactic and grabbing at Cho's clothbound pubis and squeezing it enough to make the girl wince. "You're going to be given a full measure now, something far greater than a mere flogging." Earlier, when Cho had shown a hint of disobedience, Vanessa had called two butlers into the library, the room where the incident had taken place. "Strip this whore to the bare and hold her down to the ottoman," Vanessa told the butlers. "She seems to need a dose of the crop." As the two uniformed men yanked Cho's loincloth from her and threw her facedown on the wide, mahogany-brown hassock, one holding her ankles, the other her wrists, Vanessa picked up a riding crop. There was no shortage of flagellation tools in the home of Orrin North. Vanessa, angered at what she considered insolence on Cho's part, proceeded to give the Chinese girl a savage cropping of the buttocks, beating the tawny globes raw. Even Cho's screams of pain weren't enough to deter the sadistic Vanessa. With her eyes afire with anger, she continued to flog the girl, lecturing her all the while. "You'll do as you're told, you naked little show-off!" she shrilled above the whistle of the crop. "All of you half-naked whores will do as I say!" When her anger abated somewhat, Vanessa stalked from the room. "Give her a fucking if you care to," she said to the butlers on her way out. "That's all she's good for." If Cho thought that this was the end of her chastisement, she was sadly mistaken. Vanessa had had her taken to cellars of the deserted mansion and hung by the chains. Here, Cho had remained alone, wondering what was to befall her. Now, as she twisted against the rough granite of the pillar, her pubis in Vanessa's strong grip, Cho sensed that her real punishment was about to begin. She was correct. Lothar and a guard by the name of Roland were entering the dim and musty chamber. They were there to aid in administering punishment of the most horrendous variety. Both men were smiling broadly in anticipation of inflicting suffering on the captive teen-girl. "Take her down from the chains," Vanessa said to them. "This impudent young slut will be put on the rack." Lothar and the guard released the girl and hauled her to the other side of the room where an ancient rack made of heavy timbers stood. At one end of the fiendish table was thick, wooden cylinder with long; leather straps attached and wound round it. This cylinder could be turned by a notched wheel at the side. The two men tossed Cho onto this platform, placing her on her back, and tied her wrists into the straps attached to the cylinder. Then they went to the opposite end of the table. "You're going to learn what true punishment is," Lothar said to the bewildered girl. As he spoke, they were grabbing her wriggling feet and pulling her out tight, then drawing her out and lashing her ankles into two straps nailed to that end of the wooden device. When they were done with restraining the girl, Lothar gave the crank-wheel a turn or two, and Cho was stretched out taut, her body strained in the leather fastenings. Roland turned to Vanessa. "Does the cunt need to be stripped of its covering?" he asked. Vanessa was staring down at the victim. "Oh, yes, it does," she said slyly. "Peel those rags off. I want her down to the full bare." Grinning, Roland peeled the scant covering from Cho's sex-mound. Cho saw that the three people surrounding the table were intent on making her suffer in the worst way. She pulled at the restraints only to find out just how securely she'd been strapped down. This effort amused Vanessa. "No, you won't be going anywhere until you've taken your punishment, Cho," she said. Vanessa went to the end of the platform and ran a fingertip up the sole of Cho's left foot, playing an evil game of cat and mouse with her victim. "We'll begin by giving her a tonguing, gentleman," she said with a grin. "I believe you know what to do." They did indeed. Each one picked up a set of long, iron tongs, the tongs flattened at the ends. Lothar stood on side of the table; while Roland took up a stance at the other, ready to torture the nude girl. Lothar began by working on Cho's breast-nipples. One at a time, he clipped the brown nubs into the tong's ends and slowly tightened the handles. This squeezed the nipples, making them erect and sending shock waves of pain into the flesh. Cho began worming at the platform. "Uhhh," she groaned as Lothar tormented her. And Roland had gone to work on the outer lips of her pubis, squeezing them one by one in the tongs he held, causing Cho still more suffering. "Let me make you a bit more snug, Miss Cho," Vanessa said as she walked back to the opposite end of the table and turned the crank-wheel another notch, stretching the girl even tighter. "Awwh!" Cho cried as the rack drew her out. "No!" "Yes, torture, my nude whore," Vanessa laughed. "You'll be tortured well." Finished with tightening her captive, for the moment at least, Vanessa picked up a candle mounted in a brass holder and lit it. Then she went to end of the table where Cho's twisting feet were. "Perhaps the pretty Miss Cho is a bit chilly," the woman said. "Well, I'll just have to warm her up." Cho barely heard her. Roland had pulled her labial lips together in the tongs, and he was pinching them together, forcing the juices out. And then the girl was struck by a sudden heat. Vanessa was holding the candle's flame to the naked sole of Cho's right foot! Cho screamed as the intense heat penetrated the foot's tender flesh. Vanessa didn't want to burn the girl, and she pulled the flame away. Her intention was torment. As soon as she saw the delicate foot cool and relax, she placed the flame to it again. "Please do not burn me!" Cho wailed, the music of her Oriental accent becoming shrill. Vanessa continued to flame the girl, first one foot and then the other. But the torture being given to Cho's sex was offsetting the agony in her feet somewhat. The tongs had begun to force orgasm from her inner pubis. And all the while Lothar was twisting at the nipples, sending sparks through them. The China girl was becoming a mass of suffering and bitter orgasm as she took the full measure of sex-torture, her tormentors mocking her, laughing at her nude contortions. Finally, the three of them ceased what they were doing and stepped away back from the rack, but still Cho writhed just as if she were still being actively tortured, her flesh throbbing, her fluids dripping out onto the wooden planking as she moaned. Each one of them stared at the China girl wriggling before them, each one of them enamoured of the sight of her youthful physique so strained and agonized. "Turn the wheel," Vanessa said to Lothar, her voice even and sinister. "I'm by no means through with punishing this slut. She'll pay for her insolence." Lothar turned the crank-handle yet another notch, pulling Cho still tighter. Every muscle in her body was now knotted beneath the delicate, brown skin. Her mouth opened in a silent gasp of surprise, her fingers splayed, the toes arced into taut points. Vanessa returned to the table and stood over her victim, grinning evilly and tilting the candle until a drop of the melting wax dripped onto the girl's left breast-nipple. "Awwwh!" Cho cried out. "You can not do that to me!" "Now she's telling me what I can't do," Vanessa laughed as she dribbled wax onto Cho's other nipple. "And just how do you plan to stop me, Miss Cho? Let me tell you something. I'll decide what's done here, not some bare-ass whore who's strapped out to the rack!" As she began letting the droplets of wax fall onto the cavities of Cho's underarms, Vanessa asked Roland to begin work on the pubis. "Stick the spiked shaft up into her cunt," she said. "Give her a full fucking with that thing." The shaft was of wood, covered with a leather sheath. This sheath had hundreds of leather spikes embedded into it, spikes that would cause orgasms of suffering. And Roland jammed it into Cho's open sex, wedging it in solidly and turning it around and around as he did so. And then Cho was agonized still further. Lothar turned the crank-handle, this time so far that Cho's was lifted, only the heels of her feet touching the platform. She was suspended in the air, held aloft by the straps, a shaft in her flooding pubis, hot wax dripping onto her flesh! The girl was screaming almost non-stop. She'd been tortured far past any level of human endurance, and her loins had gone into tremendous and bitter orgasms that slammed through her body again and again. Looking up through glazed eyes, half in delirium, she saw the grinning faces of her tormentors. She could bear no more, but there was no way to make them cease the torture. And then she heard Vanessa speaking of giving her a pussy whipping! "No, not that!" she pleaded. But Roland was removing the shaft from the pubic crevice as Vanessa came to stand at the foot of the rack with a lash-strap in her hand. The cruel woman was grinning, ready to administer a pussy flogging. As the leather flashed over the bare and moist pubic-flesh, Cho's body, still held aloft by the straps, twitched frantically, and her cries pierced the gloom of the dim cellars. And the girl's tormentors smiled the smiles of the victors. They were in triumph over Cho, taming her in the most complete sense of the word. ___ Chapter. 11 Aimee accepted the fact of her enslavement a bit more readily than many girls of her age might have. She'd been schooled in many of the Orient's ancient traditions. Subservience to her elders and to males had been ingrained into her at an early age. In the home of Orrin North, she easily learned to follow his strict rules and thus avoided some of the punishments that would have otherwise befallen her. She, however, dreaded the photo sessions, always. Whenever she saw that she was being led to a location where the lights and cameras were being set up, she would balk, often struggling with her captors. She couldn't help doing so as she knew she was being taken into hours of rigorous bondage and severe torment. Once some of the photos had been published in private journals, Orrin showed them to the girl, and she was entranced by what she saw. Some of these photos, especially those taken in black and white, were artistically done, and she felt she looked quite pretty in them. Others were starkly realistic, depicting her suffering and humiliation, and these were a source of deep shame to her. There were times when she felt something akin to security in her life of servitude. Following rules came naturally to the young China girl. It was something she'd done since childhood, and doing so gave her a sense of order and even meaning. She wasn't always treated cruelly. Orrin found that he genuinely enjoyed her presence. He liked her sweetness and docility, and he would occasionally allow her to spend the evening with him. On these evenings, he would use Aimee as his servant and handmaiden, his personal pet. Aimee would be summoned to North on these occasions, usually by one of the housemaids, but before reporting to him, she would have to bathe herself in a most thorough manner, washing her hair, and scrubbing her smooth body with a fine brush and scented soaps. She would be allowed to paint her lips a light pink and be given several ribbons of white to weave in and out of her extremely long, black tresses. Then she would be handed a piece of silk to tie onto herself as a loincloth, that and nothing more. The silk was a deep burgundy colour and so small that it barely covered her pubic mound. Usually, North would be in one the larger downstairs parlours. Aimee would report to him, pausing in the doorway to await his instructions. He would beckon to her, and this was Aimee's signal to kneel next to his chair, her almost-naked buttocks resting between the heels of her delicate, bare feet, hands resting in her lap. Aimee was there to serve and usually nothing more. She would remain silent as North caught up on his reading and correspondence. The chair-side lamp would be low, highlighting the girl's dusky flesh. She kept perfectly still, her back straight, her eyes downcast, available if needed. Orrin greatly enjoyed the very idea of fully controlling the girls he ensnared so deftly into his web of leather and chain, of owning a girl and being able to do anything he chose with her. As he was in the act of reading, he might absentmindedly run his fingers through Aimee's hair or stroke her bare shoulders, fondling his possession. Aimee would have to fill his cup if so needed or perhaps fetch a book from the shelf, but, for the most part, she simply had to be present and available. North would sometimes pamper her a bit, giving her a sip of sparkling cider or a small piece of chocolate, putting the candy into her mouth with his fingers. "Do you like that, Aimee?" he might ask. Aimee would nod and murmur her thanks. She would glance sideways, peeking up shyly at her master and see the pleased look in his eyes. In moments like these, Aimee found an odd joy in her slavery. She was too young to understand why she was able to give others such pleasure through her subservience, but she was gratified by this fact. She would sometimes experience this same gratification when bound and under the whip. The looks of lust on her tormentors' faces and the bulges in the men's trousers made her feel desirable indeed. Orrin could see Aimee's halting delight in the giving of herself. He saw that she was that rare sort of girl who could learn to love kneeling in chains before those who sought to torture her flesh. *** "So frisky, aren't they?" Orrin North was saying to Lothar. The two men were standing at an upper window, watching Cho and Aimee scampering about on the east lawn. The girls were in matching loincloths of white cotton, playing a game of ring toss. North believed that giving his girls regular periods of outdoor exercise aided in keeping them fit and ready for posing and, of course, service. "Indeed they are," Lothar replied, "and so young and fresh." "Aimee has worked out quite well," North remarked, not taking his eyes from the two little teen-girls skipping about in the grass, "and it looks as if we'll realize quite a profit on her. Ephram Cliff has his sights set on her, and money is the least of his concerns. He'll pay whatever I ask." Ephram had telephoned just the night before to inquire when Aimee might be up for sale. He knew that Orrin was constantly in need of fresh bodies for photo posing and thus had to regularly change his stable. "We won't let her go just yet," North went on. "We'll get full use out of her as far as photos go. Then I'll sell her to old Ephram." Ephram Cliff would be coming there that very evening to begin the preliminary bargaining for ownership of the Chinese teenager. Orrin, in order to increase Aimee's value, wished to put her on display. "Can you truss her up in the west drawing room before Ephram arrives?" he asked Lothar. "She'll look attractive on the velvet platform." "With pleasure," the huge Lothar replied. "Do you have a pose of restraint in mind?" "Yes, tie her up into the triangular bow position." "You'll want her nude, I trust?" "Oh, yes!" Orrin answered enthusiastically. "And after Ephram's had some time to view her as such, I'll need you to come in and demonstrate the degree of her subservience. Give her a full shaming." Lothar smiled, greatly looking forward to the evening. Cho was leaping into the air to catch the ring, her brown feet leaving the ground entirely, her hair flying about, and the two men at the window began speaking of her. They agreed that Cho would probably never reach a state of total submission to others. Some rebellious part of her personality wouldn't permit this state of affairs. "Still, we've had far less trouble out of her since giving her a session of the rack," Lothar observed. "No doubt," Orrin said even as he stood there lusting for Cho's youthful body, "but I fear she's the sort to attempt escape." Lothar chuckled. "Well," he said slowly, already dreaming of punishing Cho for such a deed, "she won't get past the guards in the forest, and I pity her rump when she's captured." "In the interest of keeping the lovely Miss Cho in line, give her a dose of woodland discipline this afternoon," Orrin said. "Strap her out in the stakes for a few hours." "And this, too, will be a pleasure," Lothar said with a low laugh. *** Thus, in a wide clearing deep in the forest, Cho suffered being tethered out to the ground. Lothar and one of the guards, a swarthy man by the name of Roland, half-dragged the loincloth-clad girl there. The two heavily booted men, each holding one of her wrists, marched steadfastly along the path, while Cho struggled to keep pace on nude feet. She would sometimes falter and even stumble. At these times, they simply hauled her along. In the centre of the clearing stood four thick, wooden stakes. Years ago, someone had driven these stakes into the ground for purposes of restraint and punishment. The stakes were spaced wide in the pattern of a large square. Once they reached the centre of this clearing, Lothar tore Cho's single piece of covering from her. "You won't need any clothing for what we have planned for you," he growled at her. "You'll go fully naked." The two burly men fairly threw her to the ground and forced her to lie face up in the middle of the stakes, her hands and feet stretched outward. Lothar had a satchel over his shoulder, and he drew four very long straps of supple leather from it, handing two to Roland. Each man tied a strap to one of the girl's wrists and then tied the free end to one of the stakes. As they did the same with her ankles, they drew her tight in the straps, pulling her out into a taut X before securing the loose ends to the other two stakes. And then Lothar drew a lash-strap from the satchel. He stood and smiled down at his nude captive, letting the whip dangle ominously before her. The sight of this cruel instrument made Cho pull at her fastenings, straining at the tight strapping, her body worming itself into the grass. She could see that the lash had dozens of tiny, metal spikes mounted into it. "These stakes are intended strictly for use in punishments, Cho," Lothar said with a grin on his broad face. "Girls who try to escape this estate are fastened here for very thorough whippings. And they're left here overnight. Would you like to spend the night right where you are?" The man's very words made Cho tremble with fear. "No, sir, I would not," she answered meekly, still tugging at the leather fastenings. As often happened at this time of day, fog began rolling across the grounds of the estate. The grey vapours wafted around Cho, making her darkly golden body appear all the more striking. "Then let this beating be a lesson to you," Lothar said as he took up a stance in a spot where he could swing the lash up between the girl's thighs to land straight on her open pubis. It was a mean and vicious flogging Cho endured that day. The two men were intent on degrading her, to drive home the fact that she was no more than a servant girl, a vehicle to be used for others' enjoyment. Lothar whipped the pubis in a forceful manner, causing the bound nude to shrill out her pain as the spikes bit into her most sensitive flesh. She thrashed at the hard ground, the fog swirling about her as the fire of leather fire blazed over her crotch. While Lothar was giving her this first instalment of the flogging, Roland went to a nearby stream and came back with a jug of very cold water. "Yes, cool this whore down," Lothar said to him after he'd given his victim about two dozen searing strokes. Roland threw the water all over the girl's naked and beaten crotch area. The temperature of Cho's sex-mound had risen dramatically, and when the icy water splashed over her, it shocked her flesh. She shrieked in pained surprise. "What are you doing to me?" she managed to ask. "Giving you the sort of treatment that slave-whores need," Lothar chuckled. "And you'll take your full measure." The two men became obscene with their captive teen-girl. As Lothar continued the crotch whipping, Roland would occasionally douse the girl with icy brook water. The sheer physical stimulation of this agonizing ritual created turmoil within Cho's loins. She certainly had no means to conceal what was happening to her, and thus could only turn her gaze sideways when her sex-fluids began leaking from her flogged crevice. Lothar saw this turn of events as an opportunity to humiliate his victim further. "Just see our naked slut creaming herself," he said to Roland. "She gets excited by any touch. Even being beaten makes her aroused." This amused Roland. "Perhaps we should have her tell us what a whore she is?" he said. "It might do her good to simply confess to it." Lothar swung the spiked lash-strap down on the captive pubis with a special force. "Yes, Cho," he sneered at her, "confess to us. Confess to what you are. You'll tell us you're a whore! Say it!" It took a few moments for Cho's reeling mind to comprehend what he was telling her to do, but once this understanding penetrated her thinking, she cooperated fully, willing to do anything that might stop the torture. "I am a whore!" Cho said, her cry ringing through the treetops. "I am a whore!" Again and again they made the writhing girl repeat this, Lothar whipping her all the while. Cho went into orgasms that she had no control over. She arched her back, her buttocks leaving the ground, her swollen breasts lifting skyward. The straps made creaking sounds as she struggled violently at them, her hands and feet wagging about. Both men were the kind who saw a punished and beaten girl as an object of great desire. They took turns with her as she continued to thrash about in haze of orgasm. Each one mounted the squirming girl and gratified himself in the inner folds of her pubis. "Yes, a whore you are," Roland snarled at her at the moment he began to loose his cream in her, "and such a delight you are to fuck." They didn't leave Cho tethered out for the night, but by the time they escorted her back to the house, she was fully subdued. ___ Chapter. 12 Ephram Cliff always derived a great satisfaction from his visits to Orrin North's estate. There were always China girls in service, and he knew he could count on a sexual liaison of the unusual twisted variety should he feel disposed to do so. He even enjoyed the trip to the estate. Sitting in the back of his chauffeur-driven limousine, he would stare out at the thick forests, the narrow and secret lanes, knowing that captive Chinese teen-flesh awaited him somewhere in the foggy dark. On this particular visit, he was especially enthused. Just the night before, he'd spoken with Orrin about the possibility of buying Aimee outright, and Orrin had seemed agreeable to the idea. Ephram knew, of course, that there would be the usual dickering over price, but that was of little concern to him. He had the sort of wealth that put anything within easy reach. By the time Ephram arrived, thick fog banks were scudding through the darkness, making North's tall and imposing house a beacon in the wilderness. In the west drawing room, Aimee was already prepared and displayed on a square platform. This platform was covered with a thick padding of midnight-blue velvet and stood about two feet high. The Chinese teenager had been restrained well, lying facedown, fully nude. Earlier, Lothar had used woven, silk ropes to tie her hands behind her back and her ankles together. After thus binding the girl, he'd used a third piece of this same cord to cinch her wrists and ankles together, drawing her tight until the toes and fingers were touching each other. A lengthy piece of the silk rope had been hung from the ceiling, and he drew this through the other bindings, pulling the girl upward into a taut, triangular bow. Only then did her knot the ceiling rope off and stand back to survey his handiwork. "Trussed up like a barnyard animal," he said as he smiled down at the wriggling girl. For a man of Lothar's tastes, Aimee made for an erotic picture indeed. Her restraint was uncomfortable, especially for a girl so young and tender, and the stringency of the pose she'd been forced into caused her to worm about at the platform. Her face was twisted into a grimace, though the velvet was tickling at her pubis. "Your friend, Mr. Ephram Cliff, will be visiting this evening, Aimee," he went on, "and we wanted to make a nice exhibit of you for his viewing pleasure." After enjoying a brief groping of the girl's naked buttocks, Lothar departed the room, leaving Aimee to wonder what the night held in store for her. Alone, she would twist in the rigorous bondage for over an hour before finding out. She could look out at the dimly lit room with its antique furnishings. Huge portraits of men of the olden military scowled down at her as the ominous fog swirled outside the tall windows. And the velvet stimulated her pubis all the while. *** "I've had Aimee put on display for you," Orrin was saying to Ephram Cliff when the two men entered the room through the wide, double doors. "As a potential buyer, I'm sure you want to see the merchandise at its best." Ephram, leaning on his cane, could only chuckle at this. He was already busy gazing at the bound, Chinese nude on the platform. The old man found her to be a most fetching sight and made up his mind to have her regardless of the cost. In the bowed position, the girl's flesh was strained to firm tautness, her fingers splayed, the little toes pointed tight. Her hair fell about back and shoulders, spilling out over the soft velvet. Coming to stand before the platform as if inspecting a piece of goods, the two men began discussing Aimee's value, speaking of her in terms of profit and loss, potential net gains, and value received. Aimee sensed that they were talking about her, but her limited knowledge of English prevented her from understanding much of what they were saying. She could only look upward at the two men, peeking through the hair falling over her eyes. Her gaze went from one man's face to the other as they spoke. And still she twisted in the severe restriction of the roping. "You know something of this girl, of course, having spent the night with her," Orrin was saying, "but she's made tremendous progress since that time. She's become a most valuable posing girl, and we've given her much disciplinary training." "I can see that," Cliff replied. "She seems accepting of her station." "Oh, she's that, all right," Orrin, told him. "I'd go so far as to say there are times when this girl actually rejoices in her slavery, and I've arranged for Lothar to demonstrate just this. He should be joining us momentarily." Orrin and Ephram seated themselves across the room in two easy chairs, a low lamp between them. They still had a full view the platform and Aimee. Orrin poured two snifters of brandy, and they relaxed, talking of business matters. But Ephram's gaze kept drifting to the bound China girl, thinking of how lovely she appeared in the bowed pose, thinking of how he simply had to have her as his own. Even from her awkward position, Aimee couldn't fail to notice Ephram's leering glances, and she was somehow pleased by this attention, flattered that he seemed to admiring her. The old white-haired gentleman had certainly been hard on her during the night she'd spent with him. But there had been many moments when he'd been quite tender, and she couldn't help but feel a certain strange affection for him now. She was oddly happy that he was enjoying the sight of her bare body. By the time Lothar arrived, Orrin had begun negotiating for the sale Aimee, hinting at how much money he might want for relinquishing the girl. Now would be the perfect time for a demonstration of Aimee's subservience. "Ah, Lothar," North said to his trusted colleague, "so glad you could join us. I'm hoping you'll be kind enough to put Aimee through a few paces, something to exhibit how well she's responded to training." Lothar merely nodded a yes and began advancing slowly toward the velvet platform. He was carrying a braided, leather quirt, and this bare China girl was now fully at his disposal. Reaching the platform, he loosed his victim from the ropes. "You'll get down onto the floor," he said her, "and I want you on your hands and knees." Aimee scurried off of the platform and hastened to assume the prescribed pose. On her hands and knees, the girl's rounded buttocks seemed to be almost inviting of the quirt in Lothar's hand, propped out and proffered as they were. And this particular quirt was one of Lothar's favourites. A thin, leather flap about three inches long was woven into its end, and this flap had been splayed into a dozen separate tiny thongs, each one a miniature whip. "You're going to take a little stroll, Aimee," Lothar said as he gave her hindquarters a quick taste of the quirt. "You're going to show us how much you need discipline in your life. Now begin crawling." Aimee was exhibited just as if she were livestock. Lothar, with the aid of his quirt, forced her to crawl back and forth before her potential buyer. As she moved along, he would stripe the leather instrument across her buttocks, sometimes snapping the whip-ends at the nude flesh. Aimee gasped at each stroke, but she managed to keep up the pace. Lothar was humiliating and punishing her both, demonstrating her ready compliance. And he forced her to voice her acceptance of her place in life. "You take your floggings regularly, don't you, Aimee?" he said. "Answer me!" "Yes, sir, I do." "Others know what's best for you. That's why you take your floggings, isn't it?" "Yes, sir." As the session progressed, Lothar's enthusiasm for chastising girl-flesh became more apparent, and his lust for whipping Aimee increased. The dusky skin of her buttocks was turning to a scarlet colour and beginning to visibly throb. "You're looking at a well-disciplined piece of goods," Orrin said to the elderly Ephram as the girl was paraded before them. "You've done a fine job with her," Ephram replied. "It's refreshing to see such obedience in a girl so young." Ephram knew that North was trying to justify the enormous price he was asking for Aimee, but he didn't care. He wanted this girl at any cost. He wanted to have her as a handy torture-toy and as a ready object of his sexual desires. Lothar finally stopped the girl in a spot several feet from her audience. She was facing them, and he ordered to look upward. Thus, she was staring directly at Ephram and Orrin. With the tip of the quirt, he nudged her thighs slightly apart. "You've obeyed well, Aimee," North said with a paternal smile "Our guest has been impressed with your performance." Then he looked at Lothar. "More flogging," he said. "I want her rump royally burnished." With a menacing grin, Lothar went eagerly to the task. He began swinging the quirt across Aimee's buttocks with even more force than when she'd been crawling, drawing an X pattern of stripes over the firm globes, sadistically doing what he loved best, punishing an innocent girl. Aimee could no longer contain her grief. At first, she merely emitted mournful little whimpers, but these soon turned to shrieks of true suffering. She was finding it hard to keep herself in the kneeling position as her arms and legs were beginning to tremble. "How would you like it if I had you flogged for an hour or two right where you are?" North asked above the sound of leather on bare flesh. "I would not, sir," Aimee managed to say between her shrieks of anguish. "Then you'll do as you're told, won't you?" "Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" North signalled for the flogging to be done, and this signal was also a cue for Lothar to display Aimee in a more formal sort of acquiescence. After setting the quirt aside and picking up a heavy chain with thick manacles at each end, Lothar ordered the girl to kneel before the two men who'd been watching her chastisement. He positioned her with her buttocks resting between the heels of her naked feet, her knees slightly open. "Lift your hands up in front of you, Aimee," he said to her. With her arms still trembling, Aimee obeyed, raising her hands in front of her face. "Once you're chained, you'll receive no further flogging, for now at least," Lothar said as he dangled the manacles before Aimee's face. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" "Yes, Mr. Lothar," Aimee murmured. "Then you'll ask to be chained," he sneered, "and you'll say please as you do so." Aimee didn't understand why she was being treated in this way, but she saw clearly that it would be best to follow Lothar's orders to the letter. "Please chain me, sir," she was quick to say. 'I ask you to chain me." "And that I shall," Lothar said with a grin of triumph. He clasped the thick manacles about the girl's delicate wrists, locking them securely and then allowing her to lower her hands to her lap. Done, he stepped aside. He wanted Ephram to have a full view of the enslaved nude. "Well, I can see you've done some very thorough work with this girl," Cliff remarked. "Her obedience seems unfaltering." Already, Ephram was daydreaming of owning Aimee. How perfect she appeared. In his way of thinking, there was hardly more he could ask for than a youthful and obedient China girl, a mere teenager kneeling and asking to be chained. Her nude flesh had been whipped, and yet she was grateful just to be allowed to wear the chain and manacles. As usually happened to Aimee any more, the pain the quirt had sent into her buttocks had spread to her loins, transforming itself into pleasure. The telltale signs of her arousal were already showing. There was a hint of moisture at the opening of her smooth and visibly pulsating sex-mound. This was something dear to Orrin; displaying a girl he'd established dominion over, forcing her to appear without clothing before others, having her flogged as entertainment. Now that he could see Aimee's arousal, it was time to debase her still further. "You may reward yourself now, Aimee," he said. "You may use your fingers on your pussy. Go ahead. We want to watch you stick your fingers inside of yourself." Aimee had become somewhat used to this sort of treatment, but she was still shamed at what she would now have to do, to manipulate her most intimate flesh while others sat calmly by watching her. The short chain make a clanking sound as her fingers went to the moist pubis, and she let out a soft moan the second she touched herself. The horrid quirting she'd taken amplified the euphoria between her slender thighs, and her buttocks drove forward and then began humping back and forth. Orrin poured brandy for himself and the other two men while they observed the nude China girl escalate rapidly into a state of orgasmia. He glanced at Ephram's eyes, and the pleased look he saw in the elderly gentleman's eyes told him that he would easily receive the price he was asking for Aimee. "Mr. Cliff may be taking you home with him, Aimee," Orrin said as the girl was just entering orgasm. "Would you like that?" Aimee looked up at Ephram Cliff. "If that is what you want," she answered. Her voice quavered, but her tone was unquestioning. "I'm glad to hear that, my little girl," Ephram said to her. "And I'm going to pay a handsome price for you, but I'm certain you'll prove worth it. You'll serve me well, won't you?" Aimee had entered into the odd and hazy state of the orgasms of submission, but she could hear what Cliff was saying, and she managed to nod in agreement before she was fully swept away. "Oh, yes," Cliff chuckled as she gave her nod, "you'll serve, and you'll serve well. There's no doubt of that. If not, you will suffer." The transaction was thus complete. There was the necessary formality of the transfer of funds and the contracting, but Aimee now belonged to Ephram Cliff, the elderly, white-haired man who was capable of being so very kind and yet so very cruel. All that remained to seal the bargain was Aimee spending the night with her new owner, a night where she would endure the rigors of the old man's cane and submit to his strange lovemaking. ___ Chapter. 13 As part of the bargain in selling Aimee, Orrin insisted that she be allowed to remain in his house for a few more days. He wanted to use her for one final photo session and thus garner maximum profit from his investment in this young China girl. In the final analysis, profit was everything to him. His career was in selling girl-flesh, and he knew how to keep profit margins high. This photo shoot took place in the crumbling, deserted mansion, and the appointed night was well suited to the sort of evil the pictures would portray. The skies were threatening to open into a downpour. Low thunder sounded over the deep forests, and the rooms of the mansion were occasionally illuminated my momentary flashes of lighting. Edmund was there to work the cameras, and Vanessa was in attendance, as well as Lothar and Roland. Orrin, of course wouldn't have missed it. As much as he was looking forward to picking out a new girl from the slave market, he was proud of the work he'd done with Aimee and felt certain reluctance at seeing her go. Oddly, Aimee wasn't placed in the strictest of restraint for this set of photographs. A low posing platform of rough-hewn polished wooden planks was used. The platform stood a little less than two feet high and had a thick chain of iron bolted to one corner. No photo lamps were used. Instead, several tall candelabra were placed about the room, the candles casting long shadows high on the ballroom's walls. An hour before the photo session, Lothar escorted Aimee to the old mansion's decaying ballroom. Here, he forced her to fully denude her ripe body, though she had only a few rags to remove. "Open yourself," he said to her once she was standing there with nothing on. "Spread your legs." Doing her best to be as cooperative as possible, Aimee stood with her feet about twelve inches apart, thus leaving her bare pubis open. "You're a feisty little thing to begin with," Lothar chuckled as he coated his middle finger with an oil that contained powerful aphrodisiac properties, "but this is going to make you positively animated." He rammed his wide finger up inside of the girl's sex, thoroughly coating her insides with the oil, and she felt its effects immediately. A huge sensation of burning desire ignited throughout her inner loins, an itching that needed attending to. Without thinking, she began moving her hands toward her pubic region. "Keep your hands away from your slutty cunt," Lothar barked. "You won't relieve yourself until you've been told you can." Lothar went still further in adding to the girl's frustration. He coated her outer crotch with the mysterious oil. Then he rubbed some of it between globes of her buttocks, even spreading some of it about and into the anal region. "Please," Aimee murmured. "It is so very warm." "And you'll be warmer," Lothar laughed as he pulled her hands behind her back and buckled a short, leather belt about the crossed wrists. It was now impossible for Aimee to touch herself. Before leaving the girl, Lothar forced her to sit on the wooden platform, her legs curled up beside her. Then he wrapped the thick chain at the platform's corner around her left ankle and secured it on with a heavy and cumbersome padlock. "That should keep you from going anywhere," he said as he prepared to depart the room, "and your pussy should be hot and juicy by the time we're ready to take pictures of you." Left alone, Aimee struggled frantically at the belt that held her wrists, desperate to reach her pubis and scratch at it to give herself relief. The oil was causing an increasing frustration in her entire crotch area. There in the old, dusty ballroom, with the flickering light of the candelabra casting wavering shadows over the room, the nude China girl wormed about, her pristine, youthful flesh in sharp contrast to the must and the hard stone. But her struggles were in vain. All she could do was tug at the belt that held her wrists, and as she did so, her delicate ankle pulled at the unyielding iron of the chain, causing clanking sounds to resound through the gloomy chamber. Aimee lost all track of the passage of time. Suddenly, she looked up to see herself surrounded by grinning faces--Orrin, Vanessa, Lothar and Roland, Edmund Flint. Once again, it was time for her to perform as a slave to photo-bondage. She would be photographed so fetishist voyeurs could have pictures to ogle in the night, pictures of a nude and helpless young, Chinese girl caught in the throes of frustration and forced orgasms. Orrin's hands were on his hips. "You seem pent-up with desire, Aimee," he said in an almost paternal tone. "Well, never fear. We're going to permit you much pleasure, though you'll have to suffer in the process." Already, as Vanessa loosed the girl's hands, Edmund was stepping back to begin snapping photos, and these would be odd photos indeed. They would depict a bare and fettered teenaged girl surrounded by four fully clothed adults, all of the adults so much older than the victim. "You may use your hands on your little pussy now, Aimee," Orrin said once the belt was removed. "Go ahead. Don't be ashamed of your desire. Enjoy yourself." By now, the burning between her legs had grown so fierce that Aimee was beyond shame. Her left hand darted to her pubis, fairly grabbing at the throbbing mound, clutching it frantically, one finger jamming into the wet inner folds. "Uhh," came from her parted lips as she sensed relief. So was so caught up in this sudden freedom that she didn't notice that her onlookers, with the exception of Lothar, were stepping out of the circle of candlelight. Lothar was still standing there with a three-thonged whip in his hand. He looked down at the fettered girl, content in the knowledge that he would now give her a severe flogging while she fingered her hungry pussy. Aimee didn't even look up to see that the burly man raising this whip into the air, and she was thus caught by surprise when the thongs came crackling across her back. "Oh, no!" she gasped out, looking up at Lothar in wide-eyed surprise. "I..." But she got no further in her protest. Lothar had begun beating her in earnest, causing her buttocks to leap about on the platform, her little feet scampering themselves. Still, she continued to satisfy the need in her dripping sex. She'd gone into an orgasm that overshadowed all else. The bliss rushing through her loins had taken full control of her. "Ah, see our nymph squirm," Orrin was saying, clearly pleased. "We shall beat her well for the finest of photos." They took turns with the bare captive, each of them stepping up to the platform to flog at her twisting body. They used different instruments of the flagellation arts, the birch and the lash-strap, the whip and the leather paddle. With her loins constantly going in and out of orgasm, Aimee was unable to keep herself still, and this gave her tormentors more targets to work with. She thrashed about at the platform, twisting this way and that, continually exposing different areas of her nudity, and her flagellators punished all of them. The leather and the birch scorched the hollows beneath her arms and behind her knees, her buttocks, her wiggling breasts, and her back, even the soles of her squirming feet. Through it all, Aimee fingered her oiled pubis and moaned in both agony and the pleasure emanating from her crotch, a pleasure the permeated her anus and buttocks and then rippled through all of her beaten flesh. She'd gone into full-body orgasm! Vanessa was the cruellest. As she often did when working on a photo model, the woman was thinking of the city girls who pranced about so haughtily in their revealing fashions. These girls angered her, and her pent-up wrath would now be vented on Aimee. Before even beginning to flog the girl, she tied a soiled bandanna of bright red cotton over Aimee's eyes, blindfolding her. She wanted her victim to wonder where next the leather would strike and burn. "What's the matter, slut-girl?" she laughed as she hefted a long lash-strap. "Are you curious as to which part of your body will be flogged next?" Aimee couldn't answer. Her moans were now mixed with whimpers and dry sobs. She'd been driven into the agony of delirium sexualis, suffering and orgasm pounding through her flesh simultaneously. As her entire body spasmed, her pubis drained itself, her cream spattering out all over the platform. "Don't answer me then, you bare-assed, barefoot little whore!" Vanessa shrilled. A long shadow of her with the lash raised was cast high onto the stone walls. "But you'll take your beatings! You'll take your beatings!" When the blindfolded girl felt the strap searing forcefully across her back, she began letting out shocked screams that echoed throughout the cavernous ballroom. As Edmund captured this bizarre scene on film, the crumbling ballroom took on the air of a medieval torture dungeon. The chamber was filled with the continual sound of leather blazing over naked flesh and Aimee's moans and shrieks of distress. Her hair had fallen forward across the blindfold and down over her swollen breasts. Writhing about as she was, she wasn't even able to keep her finger in her pubis. She fell backward, rolling from side to side, the orgasms continuing on without the stimulation of the finger. Her cream glistened on the wood of the platform, and when Vanessa was able to strike at the writhing pubic mound, the cream shone on the leather of the lash-strap as well. Aimee was finally reduced to lying on her back, a helpless mass of quivering flesh, her body spasming as if electrified. "Ephram Cliff is purchasing a well-trained girl" Vanessa gloated as she snapped the lash. "She's learned obedience." "Yes, she has," Orrin, said, stepping close to the platform and yanking the piece of cotton from Aimee's eyes. Then he stood and stared down at her, triumphant in his mastery of this lovely China girl. "You will obey your new master, won't you, Aimee?" he said to her. His tone was emphatic and commanding. Dimly, Aimee could hear his voice, and she knew she'd best answer. "Yes, I will obey," she murmured as her tongue lolled from her mouth. "I will...obey." *** At a later date, Edmund Flint looked at the photographs he'd taken of this scene of torture and shame. And he was convinced that these pictures represented his finest work. Apparently, the collectors of filmed perversion agreed with him. The photos of the bizarre flogging session commanded the highest in prices, and people were glad to pay them. The pictures were classic in their stark realism. In many a closed room, these photos would be lingered over for hours at a time, the viewers entranced at the sight of such a young girl being beaten into full submission. ___ Chapter. 14 The nearest point of civilization to the village Aimee had grown up in was a half day's walk away, and this was nothing more than a crossroads with a general store that also served as a sort of makeshift post office. There was an old black and white television set in this store. It received only one station, and the picture was almost always fuzzy. But, as a little girl, Aimee had stared at it, fascinated by what she saw. Mostly it was the buildings that held her attention, the houses of people in other lands. For a long time she'd thought that these were simply fabrications, fake scenery, but when she realized that people actually lived this way, she made up her mind to emigrate from her homeland, one way or another. It was only her naiveté that led her to an unscrupulous smuggler of young girls. When she first saw the huge house belonging to Ephram Cliff, she'd thought, once again, that it was a fabrication. It was far grander than anything she'd seen on the television in the general store. But when she was led inside, she saw that it was very real indeed. The secluded estate was behind high walls, surrounded by well-trimmed lawns and shady gardens. Here and there was a fountain. The vast house itself reminded her of some pictures she'd once seen of ancient Greek temples. There were floors and columns of white marble, high ceilings and hanging plants. Aimee had been transported from Orrin's house in one of Ephram's limousines. The windows of the car were tinted, making it impossible for anyone to see that a girl in nothing but a filthy loincloth was in the back seat. Immediately upon her arrival, two strong and sturdy German housemaids wearing starched grey uniforms took charge of Aimee, escorting her to a spacious bathing room of blue and white tiles. Here, the two women stripped Aimee of her one garment and put her into a deep, sunken tub of warm water. They were stern in their commands, but they handled her gently enough, both of them scrubbing her with soap and soft-bristle brushes. During this bathing process, Ephram and his right hand man, Carl, entered the room. Carl was a well-muscled man with thick eyebrows that hinted at his commanding nature. He served as Ephram's house manager and chief disciplinarian. The two men watched as the nude teen-girl was bathed, both of them enjoying the sight of her smooth and youthful body being scrubbed down. "This girl is somewhat special, Carl," Ephram was saying. "In his usual coarse manner, Orrin North has given her some highly effective training, but he resorted mostly to beating her into submission. We'll change that somewhat. She'll be given the punish and pamper treatment." "I'm assuming we'll start as soon as possible," Carl replied. Already, he itched to get his hands on a fresh China girl. "Yes. She'll be allowed some rest this afternoon, but this evening, have one of the housemaids, Ingrid perhaps, go to her bedroom and give her a mild crotch-birching. Nothing extreme, just enough to warm and agitate the girl's pussy. Then have her brought to the corrections room for her indoctrination." *** In this palatial dwelling, Aimee would be taught to serve without thought, to obey without question. Thus, she would learn something of servitude's attending ecstasy. She would be given light duties to "give her a sense of worth." And she would follow strict rules. Any infraction of these rules would result in the most severe of punishments. *** The large bedroom she was given surprised and delighted Aimee. The floor was of black marble, the bed tremendous, and the tall windows looked out over the back gardens. Here, she saw that Ephram's estate bordered on a wide bay. Aimee was refreshed when she awoke, renewed in body and spirits after the bath and a long afternoon's sleep. Even as she sat on the edge of the bed, blinking, still nude, a housemaid was entering the bedchamber, one of the women who'd bathed her. The woman carried a long, supple switch of birch. Midway across the vast room, she halted her steps. "Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me, Aimee," she said. "And be quick about it." With a sudden fear coursing through her, Aimee got down into the prescribed pose and began crawling to the woman, working her way across the hard marble. "Halt," the woman said when she was near. As Aimee complied, the woman took up a stance behind her. "I didn't introduce myself when I washed you earlier," she said. "My name is Ingrid, Miss Ingrid to you. You'll be seeing me regularly as I'll be giving you your routine daily disciplines. At the moment, I'm here to birch your cunt. You will now spread your knees." Aimee drew her knees as far apart as possible in the awkward position she was in, her pubis already trembling in fear of the birch. Ingrid was an efficient disciplinarian and highly practiced at the art of the birch. She warmed to her task by first drawing a few light X patterns over Aimee's bare rump. Then she moved on to the central task at hand, that of heating the nude girl's pubis. She'd flogged many a pretty teen-girl in her years, and she found this one to be very fetching indeed. She liked the clean lines of Aimee's figure, the gentle roundness of the buttocks and the breasts. She was bringing the birch switch up from the level of the floor and snapping it between the China girl's legs, the end of the switch biting into the smooth pubis. She gave Aimee an even two dozen licks and then reached down and felt her between her legs, finding that the girl's sex had become moist. "You must like being birched," she said sweetly. "Your pussy is all excited." Aimee said nothing, too shamed to speak. It was now time for Aimee's indoctrination. Ingrid stood her up and gave her a very short dress of flimsy cotton to wear. The dress was earth-brown and left one shoulder bare and simply tied on over the other shoulder. Aimee knotted the scrap of a garment on. It barely covered her buttocks and pubis, and Ingrid gave her nothing to wear beneath it nor any footwear. "Come along," the stern woman said as she steered Aimee out of the room by the elbow. "It's time for your first session in the corrections room." The dreaded corrections room was a spacious chamber of horrors on the ground floor with wide French doors that opened out to a flagstone patio. Standing by itself was a tall and weighty Georgian cross, two polished, mahogany timbers that formed an ominous, upright X. A small pillow was nailed down in juncture of these timbers. The cross was bracketed to the floor and had ringbolts at the corners. These rings were for the restraint of any girl unfortunate enough to find herself being bound to this apparatus. Four additional ringbolts were embedded into the floor, two on each side of the cross. These rings were intended for an even more rigorous brand of restraint, the restraint of sexual subjugation. When Aimee was ushered into this room, Ephram and Carl were standing near the cross; discussing the approach they'd take during this formal session of discipline. Ephram's goal was to let Aimee know straight off that she would serve and serve well. When Ingrid halted the girl several feet from the X-shaped timbers, Ephram turned, his face expressionless, leaning on his cane. "Remove your dress, Aimee," he said flatly. As soon as Aimee was down to the full nude, Carl seized her wrist and yanked her toward the cross. He bent her forward over the intersection of the timbers, her waist on the pillow. This left her buttocks and legs hanging over one side, her upper body and arms dangling over the other, her hands and feet swinging freely in the air. "How did she take her crotch-flogging? Ephram whispered to Ingrid while the nude girl was being positioned. "Very well," Ingrid replied in a pleased tone. "Her cunt is wet even now." Ephram thanked her and asked if she'd come back later to see the girl to her evening bed and bath. Ingrid simply nodded as she departed the room. Carl was now placing Aimee into restraint. He tied long straps of leather to her wrists and ankles and then tied the free end of each strap to one of the rings embedded in the floor. "You're going to be snug and secure, servant-whore," he said as he was drawing the straps tight and stretching the girl down over the X-shaped contraption. When the binding was done with, both men stood and savoured the sight before them. They had Aimee at their mercy, a Chinese teen-girl, bound and nude. She was helpless, every orifice of her young body so very available, her buttocks propped in a perfect flogging pose. "I'll need a few minutes to speak with her," Ephram said, and Carl left the room. Aimee heard Ephram's footsteps approaching her from behind, his cane clicking at the floor. She clenched her buttocks tight, fearing that the cane was about to be used on her hind end. When the footsteps ceased falling, she felt the cane gently tapping on her buttocks. "Do you remember the night I used a caned your rump, child," Ephram said, breaking the silence. Aimee drew in a quick breath. "Yes, sir, I do," she said softly. "Well, this is my favourite cane," he went on, "and it's the same one I used on you that night." Without warning, Cliff began swinging the wooden walking stick, pounding the naked buttocks with a half a dozen cruel and powerful strokes. Then he lowered the cane and brought it upward to give her dangling crotch an equal number of strokes. "Uhhh," came from Aimee's mouth when she could no longer contain herself. "I subscribe to the methods of the old school," Ephram was saying as he walked around the cross and came to stand before his slave girl, "and I believe wholeheartedly that a good caning is always of great benefit to a girl of your tender years." Aimee looked upward to see that he was holding the wooden instrument before her face, perpendicular to the floor. "I want you to pay homage to my cane, Aimee," the elderly man cackled. "You will now lick it in appreciation of what it can do for you. Begin now. Lick my cane, and lick it well." When he held the walking stick to her mouth, Aimee's tongue came forth to obey her master's command. She lapped at it dutifully in what she hoped was an enthusiastic manner. Ephram lifted and lowered the cane, forcing her to lick the entire length of it. He grinned at Aimee's ready obedience, revelling at the sight of her teen-body and her eager pink tongue. The head of the cane was a small knob of ivory. When Ephram was satisfied with Aimee's licking of the stick itself, he turned it sideways and placed this knob at her dusky lips. "And now you will suck my cane," he said to her. "You will suck it just as if were a man's penis. Do it, my bare China girl." As he prodded her mouth with the ivory knob, Aimee began to worm about in her bindings, her hands and feet jerking at the leather, but she managed to comply, debasing herself by sucking as ordered, slurping zealously at the cane. "Very good," Cliff was saying as he stared at her mouth. "You are going to suck cocks tonight. And you are going to be beaten thoroughly." He pulled the knob out of her mouth and again went to stand behind her. And then he started in on giving the bound girl a pitiless caning, flogging her buttocks with a fever born of lust, not stopping until the ripe globes were scarlet. He wanted to make this scream for shriek for mercy, and he got exactly that. Aimee's cries rang through the corrections room. Coming around to stand in front of her again, he loosed his erect member from his trousers. "Now you will suck my cock, my pretty little thing," he commanded. "You will suck it just as you did my cane." Aimee's loins had responded to the beating of her buttocks, the pain in her hindquarters coursing into her inner pubis and transforming itself into a bitter but luscious pleasure that demanded her arousal and squeezed her sex-juices outward. Consequently, her mouth went eagerly to its task. She drew the old man's wrinkled member deeply into her mouth, sucking fervently. As Ephram moved his hips at the girl, he stared down at her, loving the sight of her leather-bound body and the way it was spread over the junction of the timbers, the punished rump being of particular appeal. He could see her captive feet fluttering, the toes wriggling, her long hair trailing down her back, the cane stripes throbbing on the rump itself. To a man of Ephram's warped tastes, this was an erotic picture of the most sublime variety, and, with his breath wheezing heavily, he spent himself in Aimee's moist mouth, hammering himself into her as he used her as the object of his lusts. He was done with her by the time Carl came back into the room. Carl was accompanied by one of Ephram's most trusted butlers, a man named Horace, a sadistic man with a thick, grey moustache. Each of them was carrying a braided quirt of oiled and supple leather. "I want this girl disciplined in the most thorough manner," Ephram said to the two men. "She's to learn that she is a servant to others and nothing more. Do whatever is required to this end. All I ask is that, when you are done with her, she is fully subjugated and accepting of her station as a slave girl." Both Carl and Horace nodded, smiling, exulting in the very idea of doing whatever they pleased with this bound and nude teenager. "She's all yours," Ephram said over his shoulder as he walked from the room on his cane. "Just leave her there when you're finished. Ingrid will be back later to see to her." Carl went immediately to their captive and ran a hand over her buttocks. "I see you have a well-scorched rump here, Aimee," he chuckled, "warm too. Well, you're going to be a lot warmer before we're done with you. Your evening's floggings are far from over." Aimee couldn't help but worm her buttocks about under his hand. The cane had left her sensitive to the slightest touch, and as the man's caress became more intimate, she emitted a soft whimpering sound. Carl was amused at this whimper. "You must be looking forward to your additional beatings, my girl," he said. "And we won't disappoint you." As Carl readied his quirt, Horace stood before the girl, taking his huge, erect cock from his trousers and shoving it at her mouth. "You'll suck me, you nude whore," he told her in a flat tone. "And you'll begin now." As he spoke, Aimee felt the quirt strike her already-punished buttocks. It sent fresh fire racing through her flesh, and made her act quickly. She took Horace's cock into her mouth and began sucking at it with a vigour born of fear. She wasn't being whipped and used as an object of lust for the purpose of photos now. She was being disciplined for discipline's sake only. When the quirt flashed upward from floor level to strike at her open pubis, she went into fluttering surface-orgasms that caused her to hump her buttocks up and down, and her mouth began slurping at Horace's cock in an even more enthusiastic fashion. Horace, enamoured of ramming his member into the warm, moist orifice of Aimee's mouth, began using his quirt on her back, and the very sight the braided leather punishing the girl's tawny flesh made him spend a load of cream into her. "Keep at it, slave girl," he rasped at her as he swung the quirt. "You'll do as you're told, you cock-sucking whore." Aimee was given no respite that night. The two men flogged her constantly and took turns at inserting their members into her various openings, her mouth, pubis, and anus. Aimee went off into a delirium, her pubis wrenching itself into non-stop orgasms that oozed throughout her naked flesh. She shrieked as she was penetrated over and again. And as she wallowed in suffering and the strange pleasure of forced subservience, her tormentors used their quirts on her captive body. She squirmed at the cross as they flailed her buttocks and thighs to a purplish colour. And they flogged her calves and feet as well, the quirts crackling over her nudity as she screamed. Her back, beaten to a crisp, was covered with red stripes. "You can expect to go through just such punishment or worse any time you fail to follow orders," Carl said to her. At one point, they demanded that she give thanks to the quirts. One by one, they held the leather flogging tools to her face and ordered her to kiss and lick at them. Both of the quirts had whipped at her soaked pubis, and, as she licked at the leather, she was also licking at her own juices. "Just see her slurping up her own cum," Horace was saying as he jammed his quirt at the girl's lips. It was an unusual tableau being enacted in the dreadful room of corrections, two powerful men flogging and tormenting a frail girl of tender years, using her nude body for base gratification. Calmly they went about administering this extreme form of discipline, quirting their bound victim and inserting themselves into her youthful flesh. Only when they were satisfied that Aimee was fully flogged and abused did they decide that their task was accomplished. "She'll know what sort of rule she's under now," Carl said as they laid on the final lashes. "Good bye, pretty thing," he said to Aimee. "Someone will be along to release you some time or another." Aimee heard them chuckling as they walked out. Then she was alone with her pain and humiliation. When Ingrid entered the corrections room, the sight of Aimee's tortured body made her groin lurch. How she loved feasting her eyes on bound and beaten girl-flesh. She licked her lips, savouring the girl's captive nudity, the red stripes, the spasming of the bare buttocks. "Well, it seems you've had a time of it," the woman said as she approached Aimee from behind. She could see the little feet twisting and stretching themselves, the fingers opening and closing. When she drew close, she paused to admire the lacework of red stripes woven over Aimee's back, and this made her groin ache still more. Each stripe represented a separate agony, and she loved seeing this luscious China girl in just such agony. Bending forward, she kissed at one of the stripes, tasting the skin and the suffering itself. "Are you in pain, my girl?" she asked in a soft and loving tone. "Yes," Aimee murmured. "I know. I can taste it." Then she let her kisses travel all over Aimee's back and shoulders, her mouth going to from stripe to stripe, adoring each one. She used her tongue on the quirt marks, tasting Aimee's punishment. And she sucked at the anguished flesh. The girl's skin was still warm from the quirting it had been through, and Ingrid revelled in this warmth. As a woman of warped passions, these acts were powerful stimulants to Ingrid, and her loins charged into an arousal that rapidly escalated to climax. Simply kissing and licking at the marks of Aimee's pain was enough for her to achieve full sexual gratification. Her orgasm was quick and powerful, and it left her completely satisfied. "Now then, Aimee," she said once she'd taken her pleasure. "I'll release you from these straps and take you down from this awful cross. And I'll give you a warm bath before tucking you into bed." Aimee mumbled her thanks. She was too exhausted to say anything else. ___ Chapter. 15 Ephram Cliff's pamper and punish approach to discipline was unique in its very contradictions. Aimee was assigned menial household chores, scrubbing floors and dusting, and she was given daily doses of the birch. The rules imposed upon her were many and strict, and punishment for disobedience was swift and cruel. But she was sometimes treated like a princess. Her bedchamber was luxurious, containing a private bath and a splendid view. When she wasn't engaged in duty, she was free to go about the house and the grounds unescorted. The grounds were well guarded, and there was no chance that she might escape. Aimee loved roaming the forested garden paths. She would explore and often come across hidden glens and even spring-fed fountains. She would take her one garment off and splash in the fountains, letting the chill waters soothe her oft-punished flesh. Sometimes, she would go as far as the bay. Here, she would swim and sun herself, lying nude on the sandy beach. There were times when Aimee didn't feel as if she'd been enslaved at all. She felt more like a concubine of the ancient times, a concubine who'd been fortunate in being taken in by a master who allowed her at least some comforts. Still, her days began with a dosing of the birch and ended in the same manner. For several days after her initial session of indoctrinary discipline, Aimee was given no corporal chastisement. Her body had time to refresh itself, and, owing to her youth, the skin quickly returned to its pristine condition, smooth and taut. Then her daily birching began. "Good morning," Ingrid said as she strode into Aimee's room on the first day of these floggings. She was carrying a long, thin rod of birch. "You will stand yourself up to this bedpost, facing it." She pointed to one of the massive and ornate posts at the foot of the bed. Aimee had just emerged from the bath. She was still nude and slightly damp. Ingrid had caught her by surprise, but she was quick to comply with the woman's command. After setting the rod aside, Ingrid had the girl raise her arms high above her head, and then she fastened Aimee's wrists to the artfully carved woodwork with a length of sturdy, tightly woven silk cord. She tugged at Aimee as she was binding her, raising the girl up onto the ends of her toes before cinching the knots. Aimee looked over her shoulder to see that Ingrid had the rod in her hand again. And when she realized that she was about to be flogged, her bare buttocks clenched themselves tight. And she began yanking at the rope, her nude toes dancing about at the floor. "You'll begin each day with a toasted rump," Ingrid said as she grinned at the fear in Aimee's eyes. "This will insure your devotion to your duties." The cruel rod whistled through the air and seared across Aimee's unprotected hind end six times in rapid succession. "Yiii!" came from the girl's mouth before she knew it. Ingrid liked the sound of this shrilling. "And you'll end each day with a birching," she said. "You'll sleep with fresh pain." And then she administered several dozen strokes to Aimee's bare and tender buttocks, rendering the tawny and girlish flesh-globes to a light pink colour. Before releasing Aimee from the bedpost, Ingrid grasped the girl's bare pubis roughly in the palm of her hand, testing the mound for moisture and excitement. She found that it was throbbing and slightly wet at the crevice. "Very good, my little whore," she said. "Now you'll be going about your duties with a needy pussy. And that's just the sort of condition a slave girl should be in." *** At least once a week, sometimes more often, Aimee was punished in the corrections room for some minor infraction of a rule. Ephram would sit in an easy chair and watch as the young China girl was subjected to the most excruciating of floggings and tortures. He enjoyed a detached observation of her suffering. This suffering was often great. Strapped across the apex of the heavy, wooden cross, she was forced through horrid and lengthy floggings of the most intense variety. And she was sometimes suspended by her ankles, dangling in the air with her long tresses waving. Or she might be strapped to the punishment ladder to be clamped before her whippings even began. And her ordeals would always consist of sex-tortures, unusual flogging practices designed to drive an agonized girl into orgasms. But Aimee was able to learn endurance, and there were times when she would even take pride in her ability to exist in little or no clothing and to be able to withstand the rigors of the lash. Dreadful as the punishments may have been, nothing terrified Aimee as much as going under the cane of Ephram Cliff. The old man usually meted out these particular chastisements within the privacy of his bed chamber, all the better to insert himself into her sex when he was done with the punishment itself. Aimee was rarely bound for these canings. She had to get down onto her hands and knees, obliged to hold herself still without restraint. Failure to remain in this position would result in additional strokes of the cane. "As you know, I feel that the cane is highly beneficial to a girl of your age," Ephram said to her the first time she was summoned for this brand of punishment. "You'll take your caning, and you will thank me for it, and you will thank my cane. After all, you're the one reaping the benefits." After he'd given her the flogging, he held the cane before Aimee's lips just as he had when she was over the cross. She was forced to lick at it while thanking it. "I give thanks to your cane, Mr. Cliff," she said, her words coming out as half-sobs. "Now say thank you to me," he chuckled in his cackling voice. "Thank me for giving you a caning." Aimee had to draw in a deep breath before she could speak. "Thank you for caning me, sir," she was able to say. "Thank you." And then he took her to his bed and thrust his cock into the anus of her flogged and burning buttocks, pounding and taking his pleasure in her teen-flesh, releasing the juice of his lust into the taut and tender opening as he grunted with an animal satisfaction. *** Oddly, Aimee found that the white-haired, elderly man was capable of being quite gentle and loving. He would sometimes display what seemed to be a genuine affection and concern for her. There were evenings when he would have her summoned to one of the drawing rooms. Aimee would arrive, almost certain that she was in for a flogging, only to learn that Ephram simply wanted her company for the evening. He would smile and point to a place next to him on a couch. "Come here and sit by my side, sweet Aimee," he might say. "I want to enjoy your pretty face, your smile." On these evenings he seemed to be revelling in the fact that he'd taken possession of her. "You may remove your dress," he said to her on the first of these meetings. She'd only just walked into the room, but she complied without question, slipping out of her one garment. "And now you may sit by my side, dear girl," he said to her once she was fully nude. As Aimee sat, curling her trim legs up beside herself, Ephram produced a long, thin piece of white silk and draped it over her pubis. It barely covered the V tucked between her legs. The ends hung out over her slender hips and flowed out onto the couch. "It's my belief that girls of your age feel most comfortable when they're allowed to run about in the bare," he said. "It gives them the freedom of movement that their youth seems to demand." Aimee loved the feel of the fine material against her flesh, but she remained silent. "But I also believe a girl of your tender years might feel the need for a bit of modesty when keeping company with a gentleman, especially a much older gentleman." He ran two of his fingers through her soft tresses and then laid his hand on her shoulder. Aimee shivered at his touching, but she was smiling. She found this gentle handling to be soothing. It gave her a sense of security and belonging. On that evening, Ephram seemed to want her in the romantic sense. He held her close and kissed her mouth, running his wrinkled hands over her youthful flesh, fondling her pubis in a loving and tender manner. Much to Aimee's surprise, Ephram made no overt demands on her that night. He seemed content to hold her and to talk with her. And she found herself being oddly stimulated by this treatment. At the end of the evening, he dismissed her without using her sexually. She was frustrated when she left his side, and, alone in her room, her fingers went to her sex, her pubis craving attention. *** It was on one such evening that Ephram showed Aimee a collection of photographs that had just been published and distributed through very discreet and private channels. They sat on a couch in one of the smaller drawing rooms, doors closed, and the lights low. After Aimee curled up near him, Ephram took her one garment from her, but he draped the piece of silk over her pubic mound. Aimee smiled shyly at this gesture. She liked being allowed this bit of modesty. For a few minutes, Ephram held the almost-bare girl in his arms, fondling her and kissing her lips. Aimee fell into his embrace. She made herself as open as possible to his touch and let her tongue come forth when he put his lips to her mouth. She even giggled when he gave her smooth sex a few playful tickles. Ephram smiled at this girlish display. There was a leather-bound book on a low coffee table near the couch, and, when Ephram ceased toying with the girl, he picked this book up. This was the volume of photographs. There was a fair amount of text on many pages as the people who purchased this collection were interested in reading about slavery and the flagellation arts as well as looking at pictorials of these subjects. "Have a look through this," Ephram said as he laid the book across Aimee's knees. Aimee thumbed slowly through the glossy pages, finding them filled with exquisite photos of naked and almost-naked girls in very strict bondage. Many of these bound girls were undergoing whippings and odd torture rituals, and she was reminded all too clearly of the photo sessions she'd been forced to pose for. As she recalled being flogged and photographed, her loins began to stir. "Let me help in your enjoyment of this book, Aimee," Ephram said as she was nearing the last third of the pages. He had a leather-covered vibrator in his hand. It was small and slim, designed to stimulate rather than ravage. He reached beneath the piece of silk and slipped it into Aimee's smooth pubis. Ever obedient, she parted her thighs. "Now continue on," he said as he clicked the battery-operated tool on. "I want you to see the rest of the photographs." When Aimee turned to the next page, she was greeted by photos of herself, photos she'd posed for under the cameras of Edmund Flint. She saw herself in the harness, hanging from the end of the suspension chain. Flogging marks were on her skin. She paused as a strange arousal washed through her inner loins even as the vibrator buried in her pubis hummed. "Turn the page," she heard Ephram saying as he put an arm around her bare shoulders. "The rest of this book is filled with pictures of you only." Aimee leafed slowly through the pages, seeing herself in all manner of restraint and punishment. These had been dreadful ordeals for her, but she couldn't help but enjoy seeing pictures of these posing sessions. She felt as if she looked very pretty in the photos, and she wondered who might be looking at them even now. "Thousands of people have bought this book," Ephram said as if reading her thoughts, "connoisseurs of the very best in erotic photography. And all of them have admired the sight of your lovely body captured on film. Many are probably gazing at your photos at this very moment." Aimee found this idea to be tremendously exciting. She'd just turned to the pictures of her final posing session in the deserted mansion. She saw herself writhing on the wooden platform, and her juices were plainly visible, leaking freely from her nude pubis. Her mouth was open wide in a scream, and Vanessa was flogging her. "People pay money to see me like this?" she asked. "A lot of money, Aimee," he answered. As he spoke, he reached beneath the silk piece and jiggled the vibrator just a bit, but it was enough to send Aimee over the brink and into a long series of rippling orgasms that seemed to spread full satisfaction all throughout her flesh. "Ohh," she whispered, as she looked at the pictures of herself being driven into suffering. "You see," Ephram said as Aimee's cream flowed from her crevice, "being a slave girl can have certain rewards." Aimee mumbled a vague agreement. "You can accept your slavery now, can't you, Aimee?" Ephram said with a triumphant smile. "You must tell me." Aimee turned to him. She was confused, but she was undergoing a certain joy, the joy of acquiescence. "Yes," she said softly as her orgasms went on, "I can accept." Ephram took the book from her and set it aside. He drew her trembling body into his arms and kissed her gently. In that moment, Aimee was exactly where she wanted to be. The End ??