12-Year-Old Amber

[ MFg, ws, spank, mast, pedo ]


Published: 19-Jan-2013

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This work is Copyrighted to the author. All people and events in this story are entirely fictitious.

"Ohhh, I don't want to," Amber said. She sounded, curiously, like a child in a candy shop, I thought, disagreeing with the choice of candy but not with having a sweet tooth. Erika gazed at her, Bridget too. Then they glanced at each other.

"I can see we'll have to take care of you first," Erika said, looking again at Amber. She said it in a soft, knowing voice. It sounded not the least bit threatening, just a statement. But it was one she fully intended to carry out. Amber shrank from her gaze. Bridget licked her lips.

"Alright, little Amber," Bridget said. She tossed back her jet-black hair. Her sumptuous tits swayed, elegantly, as she walked with long-legged grace to where the 12-year-old neophyte stood. Gently Bridget cupped the girls' breasts. They were so young, so tender, I wanted to dash forward to protect her from Bridget's grasping hands. Amber, her hands tied securely behind her back, her bosoms ripely displayed, uncovered, unprotected, gave out a small wail as Bridget suddenly squeezed down on her tits.

"Yes, little one. Sex can hurt as well as being pleasurable," Bridget breathed. She kissed the girl directly on her unwilling lips. "Here you will learn, I hope, that it is a mixture of the two that gives one the greatest pleasure. Hmmmm?" Bridget concluded her statement with a question mark, directed her gaze at Erika even as she held Amber's tits tightly.

"Mmmmm," was all Erika said in reply. She dipped her right hand into the front of her bikini panties. She touched herself. I watched as her nipples became stiffer. Her fingers played in her slit.

"I'm going to put you in the corner," Bridget said to Amber.

The girl stiffened. Bridget smiled. "Unspanked. With a white bottom," Bridget assured her. She let go of Amber's breasts. She glanced at the rest of us, both male and female. All of us who were captives. "Please turn around," she said to us. Walk to the wall and face into it. The girls and I have some preparations to make." She fixed her gaze on me. "Do not think your little race will be forgotten," she said. She glanced at Larissa, then back at me. "In fact, as you stand facing the wall, think of me, squeezing vaseline up your ass, for your own good, your own protection." She laughed. "And you thought your health class was a pain-- in the ass."

Erika took hold of me. She turned me around so that I faced the wall. She brushed back my blonde hair and, leaning in to me from behind, whispered, "Don't worry, I'll see that Bridget doesn't mistreat you."

I was shoved forward then, by Erika, as if to make up for what she'd just said. So that Bridget wouldn't suspect? I stumbled and made my way forward across the bare floor to the wall. Something fell into the water outside, beyond our big stone cell. I listened to the splash, wondered at it. Did something live in the water we'd just crossed through? We still had to go back. And we had nothing on, save our soon-to-be-removed little panties.

The men, already naked at the hips, had the straws pulled from their cocks. Bridget assured the men that they'd soon be bedecked by the straws again. At the moment, though, more important matters beckoned.

"Be submissive for a little while, and let me handle all our affairs," Bridget said to the men. They complied. I felt it was strange to see them so visibly eager, yet so docile. But they were, and that sealed my fate. Only they knew I was being held captive here. But I could hardly be rescued if they were going to let themselves be made into slaves. If they were submissive, I must be too. I tried to accept my fate. I stared at the stone wall. It was implacable. Facing it, I could see back into the centuries. But at the same time I was prevented from seeing what was happening in 'real time', right behind me!

We were put in a straight line, like soldiers at revielle, against the wall. Three males stood to my left, presenting their erections to the bare stone. The girls made them press the tips of their penises to the wall. Nick, who'd brought us, farthest from me. Then Jim, whom I had a crush on. And finally, uselessly close, since I had no interest in him, was Walter. Perhaps I'd have sex with him, given our undressed state, but it would not be 'making love'. It would simply be sex.

Next to me, on my right, stood Larissa. She shivered at what lay ahead for us. I watched, briefly, her boobies, her bottom, as she stood facing in to the wall. It was like gazing at fresh jello. She was curvy and cute. Beside her stood the ever-desirable Amber. She was placed in one of the room's four corners. She stood contritely, her legs straight, her back stiff. She was being reprimanded for nothing, save her desire to preserve her innocence in the face of such awful depravity. I admired her courage in speaking up. Then, with her hands softly grasping my neck, Erika turned my head so that I was forced to look at the wall in front of me.

"Behave," Erika told me. "Don't give Bridget an excuse to spank you. God knows, she's good at inventing reasons. You dont need to provide her with extra incentives."

Time passed. I heard activity behind us but only managed half-glances to my left or right. I didn't wish to be punished. Not any more, at least, than was already planned. I shivered. I felt the cheeks of my bottom press together. My ass crack became a slim, delicate line. Oh, how I wished I could take everything back now. Both my promises to them and to myself. I would be little again, just a small girl, in the swing in her front yard. Alone. Protected by her daddy. Strangely, thinking of my father made me more aroused. I wished, suddenly, to fling myself upon the floor and dare Jim, despite his restraints, to plunge himself into me. But the party was all about waiting. Denial. We were being inflated like balloons, stretched, teased. Last night was for fun, today was for something else. I wasn't sure what. Penance... for our fun?

We were permitted to turn around. Or perhaps we were commanded. Bridget's clear voice sounded in the quiet room. We obeyed. When we faced out into the room, I saw some things had changed. Bridget was without panties. Her pussy showed its soft curls. Lightly she stroked within it, using her fingers. They were gloved. The gloves covered just her fingers, her hands. Nothing more. They were made of black silk. It was patterned with designs. There was a large silk bow attached to the back of each of her gloves. Upon her thighs, stockings rose above her knees. They were of the same material as the gloves. Each had a big bow on it, hung from the outside of her stockinged thigh, at its apex, as if she were a Christmas tree in need of decoration.

Except for a scarf, tied tightly around her throat, matching her gloves and her stockings, Bridget was naked. I gazed at her lily-white skin with amazement. Her cherry tits poked up at me from across the room, inviting me to sample them. Involuntarily, I licked my lips. She caught the movement of my tongue and smiled.

"Come, we must have our afternoon tea before you are punished," Bridget said to me. Her voice was gay. She was in total command. I was but a leaf, blown by the wind. Larissa was the head of a dandelion. Amber was but a puff of pollen. Bridget, despite her nudity, held a big, demanding-looking horse whip in her hand. It had multiple thongs. Each bore, at its tip, a small jewel. I wondered if they were real, or fake like the gems hung from my nipples.

"Oh, this whip is quite valuable," Bridget said. "Much more so than your ass, I can assure you."

Assured that we would be punished with only the finest of implements, we allowed ourselves to be led over to a table set out for tea. The china pot holding the tea looked delicate; blue with swirls of bird-shaped color on it. The cups, exactly the correct number for our group, matched the pot. Bridget seated herself at the table and put me on her knee. Erika took Amber. Sherry, better endowed than any of us, sat Larissa in her lap. My friend, inexplicably, snuggled up against Sherry's big mother-like tits and seemed to wish to nurse at them.

"Oh, she wishes to have milk with her tea!" Sherry laughed. She guided Larissa's mouth to her nearest teat and began suckling the girl. Of course, she wasn't pregnant, Larissa could get nothing but comfort from Sherry's tits. But she sucked lustily anyway, and I envied the relative safety of Sherry's lap, compared to the lap I sat in, that of the Vampire-like Bridget.

"Would you like a taste of my tit?" Erika asked Amber. She took the girl's chin and pressed it close to her bosoms.

"No, I--" Amber began. But then, seeing how relaxed Larissa looked, despite our situation, she suddenly grabbed Erika's nearest tit begween her teeth and began sucking furiously.

"Oh, hungry baby!" Erika said, startled. She gasped out a sigh. "Yes, feed, suck all you please," Erika said. I did not pay Bridget the same compliment.

How embarrassing it would be for one girl to suck another's tits in the normal, everyday world! Yet here all was different. I was being served tea, in delicate cups, yet my bottom must be scourged, and plied with vaseline, so I could partake of wicked games ramming dildos up my unwilling ass. I gazed at the men. They knelt round the table, showing us their penises. Their nude promise was my only reason for not screaming out at once that I must be let go, released, sent home like the little girl I felt, deep down, I still was. Oh, to be impaled on such cocks! Even Walter's took my breath away, if I let myself concentrate just on his member. They were all well-hung, and desperate, and I was wet to receive them. It's most unfeminine to discuss one's feelings in such matters but, reduced to a pair of wet panties, I couldn't help but think of giving myself to their lust. They would take me, in any case. I had no doubt of that. Bridget's games were only a way station to a ravaged fulfillment at their hands.

"You must drink your tea in a ladylike manner," Bridget advised me. I sipped. I gasped, not at the heat of the tea, but because as I leaned forward to take a sip, my breasts tinkling with the bells hung upon them, Bridget pressed a finger between my legs. She began massaging my slit with it. "Keep your legs open," she reminded me. "Always you must be ready for whatever might transpire."

It was difficult to drink my tea with Bridget diddling her finger in my slit. Beside me, I heard Amber gasp as the same trick was performed on her sex. And Larissa, who had found Sherry's breasts so comfy, so reassuring, nonetheless was suffered to entertain her host's digit in her pussy.

The men had accepted being bound and facing into the wall. Now, kneeling before us, watching us have tea, I could guess at their reason for remaining compliant. Just beyond the tea table lay a large bed. It was a bed on wheels and our Mistresses of Crime, Sherry and Bridget and Erika, had taken advantage of the wheels on the big bed to roll it right up to our tea table. It waited, like a promise, its covers already drawn back. It was beautifully outfitted, with satin sheets and matching pillows. But I saw, as did each of the other girls, gazing at it, cords upon the bed. They were black. There was one tied to each bedpost. I could guess their use; one of us, at least, was to be tied into the bed after we were done with our delicate tea cups and our feminine party. We might sip like ladies, but we would howl, I surmised, like banshees on that bed. Would we be tied face down? Face up? I guessed it would be with legs wide apart, for the cords at the bed's footboard were widely separated. The cords at the headboard had the same amount of distance between them. Spread-eagled. That was it, I saw. But still I didn't know whether it would be belly-down or pussy-up. I trembled. My trembling made the bells on my breasts shake.

"Oh, my! It's way past little Amber's bedtime," Erika said with a smirk when we'd all drunk our fill of tea. We girls, those of us who were captives, had been made to drink tea till our tummies were sloshing. The men got nothing, just watched, on their knees. Amber, hearing her name, sighed with relief that she would have to drink no more tea. But at the same time her head shot up, worriedly, her neck straightening out, for she had seen the cords.

"I'm not sleepy!" Amber said. "But I will have to pee soon."

"Then tonight's a good night for you to learn bladder control," Erika said. She patted Amber's head solicitously.

"Indeed," Bridget agreed. Frantically Amber looked at me, then at the men. I was sympathetic but the men were not. Their eyes glowed at the prospect of seeing little 12-year-old Amber tied down to the bed with a tummy full of tea.

"Yeek!" Amber cried. She struggled. It was no use. Erika was tawny and athletic and handled the girl easily. It only made Amber look more childish to protest. A minute later, Amber was tied to the bed. Her back pressed to it, her face looked pleadingly up at us. Bridget, standing over the bed, admiring her, reached out and stroked the girl between her split-apart legs. "Oh! You shall make me have to pee!" Amber said. I marvelled out how, despite her full belly, her tummy actually sank below the level of her ribs. She was young, thin, with long, coltish legs, slim thighs, a childish face. Only her bosoms gave her away as being something other than a girl in primary school. They ballooned on her chest like ripe, round fruit, a twin pair, each sprouting a nipple at its tip. I found myself desiring to lick her cherry-tipped nipples and lick her cunny with my tongue until it wet me.

It was good that my hands were tied behind me. I would have fingered my slit, impulsively, gazing at such a young, tender creature, spread out before me. Erika wasn't restrained. She indulged herself with a finger up her cunt. Bridget did the same, as did Sherry.

"Oh, how sweet she looks! I should wish to nurse her and protect her and make her my own child!" Sherry exclaimed, both her motherly and sexual instincts aroused simultanously as she looked at poor vulnerable Amber. The men, wickeder in their plans, were kept from massaging their aching pricks, or from pouncing upon her.

"At least I still have my panties on!" Amber said. Her voice was rueful. She didn't like being tied up and yet, I sensed, she was not utterly averse to being the center of attention. We were all staring at her, admiring every curve of her young, newly grown body. She had no reason for embarrassment, she was tied up, and could no more have prevented our admiration than if she'd been a babe in a crib. We blew kisses to her, we complimented her, we spoke of her tits as if they were mounds of delight and wished for a body as slim as hers. Despite her bonds, she blushed. Then she wiggled and complained that she needed to visit the toilet.

"Oh, I'm afraid they forgot to put one in down here," Bridget said, with false sadness. "Morning's not too far away. Sleep tight. And don't pee in your nice new satin sheets or Daddy will give you quite a whaling for ruining them. Not to mention your Mommie."

"I can't-- I have to go NOW!" Amber declared. She wriggled her hips violently. Erika laughed. Bridget smiled, and displayed the multi-thonged whip to the girl's eyes. "Please!" Amber cried. Her eyes grew big as saucers. Her pretty thighs tried to clamp upon each other but they were wide-spread and firmly held by the cords. "Ohhh, this is awful!" Amber said at last, resigned to her fate and knowing it would cost her dearly when her pee came spurting from her panty-clad nether lips.

"Tickle! Tickle! Tickle!" Erika said. She didn't even have to touch the girl to make fear run up her spine and her mouth gape. When she did, Amber writhed like a small snake on the bed and howled.

"Noooooo! You'll make me peeeeeee!" Amber begged. The men laughed at the outrageousness of it all.

"Don't wet your panties!" Jim cried.

"Perhaps she'd prefer that I eat them for her?" Walter said.

"No! Panties are for wearing, not for eating!" Amber shouted. Erika continued to tease her. The girl wrestled against her cords but couldn't escape.

"Tinkle, tinkle, Little Star-let," Erika sang in a lilting voice. At the same time, Bridget, reminding the girl of what awaited if she gave into her natural impulses, dangled the gem-encrusted whip over the girl's face.

"Oh! The jewels are so beautiful!" Amber cried. She gazed at them with childish wonder. And then it happened. Staring at the whip, working her hips against the diddling intrusing of Erika's fingers, Amber suddenly began peeing. We saw the crotch of her panties suddenly wetten. Then the fluid escaped her lovely, stretched-tight garment and flooded the bed between her legs and under her bottom.

"Ooooooeeeeeek!" Amber blurted. I don't think she could believe, any more than I actually could, that she'd wet the bed. She wriggled, trying to stop. It was no use. Her legs were tied in a wide vee and she, feminine creature though she was, had tea in her belly that was yearning to get out. And so it did. She made a big, wet spot right in the center of the satin-covered bed. When she finally shuddered to a conclusion she lay gazing at us with fear-struck eyes.

"Oh, my. My, my. Poor Amber," Bridget said. "Such a mess you've made, girl!"

"I didn't know a little girl like her could hold so much pee in her bladder," Erika remarked.

Amber began crying.

"Shhhh, we are only playing," Sherry said. She leapt onto the bed, next to Amber's head, where the pee had not, fortunately reached. She glanced at the girl's hips, where there was a big stain, then back at her face. She stroked the girl's cheek. Amber's sobs softened. She began to hiccup.

"Hold your breath," Sherry told her. "No hiccuping allowed in the dungeon."

"You must put sugar under my tongue if I'm - hiccup! - s'posed to stop -hiccup!- hiccuping," Amber told her.

"Lick my cunt. It's sweet," Sherry said. She straddled the girl. I watched as her big bottom settled over Amber's chin. It swallowed it up in its divide, leaving only her neck showing. I watched as Amber's neck strained and then, to my surprise, moving forward slightly, I saw Amber sticking out her tongue to lick the woman's snatch. A hiccup seized Amber. Then, when it had passed, she began to dutifully lick at Sherry's slit.

"Oh!" Sherry cried, delighted. Her large bosoms shook on her chest. Amber's body sighed. Perhaps she hoped to avoid a whipping by bringing plasure to one of her tormentors. Sherry clapped her hands behind Amber's head. She lifted it from the bed. She begged the girl to tongue her more deeply.

Amber obeyed. She licked for all she was worth as we gazed at her slim, alluring form, at its suppleness, its lightness, and at the pee-soaked panties which wreathed her hips. Mostly she was just skin and bones, save for her sumptuous young titties. She was a perfect, albeit junior-sized Barbi, laid out for our pleasure, naughtily wet between her flamingo-like legs.

"Ah, if only we could all be as young and innocent as she," Bridget said in the very first of her heartfelt statements of the evening. She let the whip dangle aimlessly from her fingers.

"She is truly lovely," Erika agreed. "Young, but lovely all the same."

The men made less gallant comments. You'd have thought you were in a restroom, listening to them.

When Sherry had taken her pleasure, she dismounted, rather blushingly and awkwardly, from Amber's face. She stood beside me. She kissed my cheek. "One to be punished, and the other yet to be tested," she said, apparently in reference to Amber and myself. Larissa, forgotten, shrank back from the women, hoping not to be missed. Jeff grinned at her.

"Don't forget Larissa," he said.

"Ohhhh, you!" Larissa scolded. Sherry laughed.

"So many newcomers to be put to the test, I forgot my favorite nurseling." She walked over to the girl, oblivious to her own wet, post-orgasmic snatch, and pressed my friend to her. Larissa resisted, then relented. She tilted her head down and kissed Sherry's right bosom.

"Please, help yourself. My body is yours," Sherry offered.

"Mmmmm, thanks," Larissa replied. She nibbled at a tit, perhaps thought of biting it, then finally settled on sucking it instead. Sherry gasped with pleasure. The men, watching, made desperate comments about our beauty and their need to fuck it.

Amber was untied from the bed. Gently she was helped to her feet. She stood contritely, eyeing the many-thonged whip. She let the women pat her head. I admired her panties. They were still lovely, despite being peed in. I looked at the wet spot in the satin sheets of the bed. It was her mark. Her sign that she had been there.

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This is a very well done story, but I feel like I came in in the middle. Are there other parts? Please?

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