Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 

   THE DEVIL'S PIT

   Ida Knowles, or as she was generally known to her classmates, Idunno,
because she sometimes did seem to be clueless, stood by the fence
surrounding the entrance to the Devil's Pit at the amusement park.  She was
waiting for her friends, but she was beginning to think they had stood her
up, again.  She had been waiting for nearly an hour.

   That wasn't anything unusual.  They often left her in the lurch, finding
other, more interesting, more fun things to do, with which they would later
torment her mercilessly, though seemingly innocently, with the tantalizing
details.

   Ida wasn't extremely popular.  In fact, she wasn't very popular at all,
but she kept trying to fit in and always ended up wondering why she
couldn't master it.

   Not an ugly girl, her looks could, at best, be classified as
"attractive", a benign term meaning...  well, not ugly.  She had reached
the age for desiring female friends just to compare tips about boys, and
share makeup tips, hairstyles, tips about boys, companionship, fashion
tips, and tips about boys.  Yet, she always seemed to end up by herself.

   There wasn't much going on around the Devil's Pit that day.  A big sign
on the ticket booth read "Closed - Out of Order".  But a tall, muscular man
had been standing there the whole time she was, just leaning against the
booth, and when she had just about reached the point of giving up and
striking out on her own to try to salvage the evening and have a little
fun, he walked over to her.

   "Waiting for your friends?" he asked, his voice was mellow, almost soft,
not exactly what she expected at all.

   He was fairly good looking for a carnival man, with arms as thick as her
legs, thicker, really.  In an instant her mood of dark despair changed to
one of butterflies in her stomach and her heart began to flutter.

   "Yes.  How did you know?" she asked, tucking an errant strand of light
brown hair from in front of her eyes and behind an ear.  Clasping her hands
in front of her she swayed from side to side, demurely, but unconsciously.

   "You've been standing there for an hour by an out of order ride.  It
stands to reason you were waiting for someone.  Your parents would have
been on time, so it had to be friends," he laid out his path of reasoning.
"And you're bored and ready to leave," he added.

   "Yes," she said with a sigh, nodding her head.

   He stepped closer to where she stood, leaning over the railing.  "Now,
there I might be able to help you out," he told her, his voice dropping in
volume.

   "How," she asked, innocently.

   "The only thing wrong with this ride is one of the monsters doesn't pop
out on time.  Other than that it's fine."

   Ida didn't know what to say, but it seemed as if he was waiting for her
to say something.  "Really?" was all she was able to summon up.

   "That's right," he answered.  "If you don't mind missing out on one
monster you can take the ride."

   "Oh, I don't mind that, but...  I dunno," she hesitated, using her
famous catch phrase.

   "I'll even let you ride for free.  You deserve a break after waiting so
long." He stood back and eyed her from top to bottom.  "You must be tall
enough to pass the minimum height.  You're what, five foot four?"

   "Four feet ten inches," she corrected him, with a coy smile.

   "Well, that's still tall enough.  What do you weigh, ninety pounds?"

   Ida didn't know what that had to do with anything, but she answered,
"No," she scowled, wondering if he thought she was fat.  "Seventy eight,"
she said pointedly.

   "I was just joking.  I knew you weren't that heavy" he laughed.  "All
right.  Let me try your age.  Sixteen?"

   "Eleven," she blurted out, kicking herself after for not lying and
making it higher.  She questioned in her mind if he was still joking.

   "Well, you look older," he grinned and she still didn't know.  "How
about it?  Do you want to ride?"

   "Thank you and it's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I would
be too scared to ride it all by myself.  They say it's really frightening,"
she told him.

   A big grin broke across his face.  "Ohh, it is," he asserted, separating
each word for emphasis.  "I designed the whole thing myself.  It's
terrifying." His eyes got a wild look in them.  Then he smiled again.  "I'm
quite proud of it, actually".

   He seemed to be genuinely sincere, and she hated to disappoint him, he
seemed so nice, but the thought of riding a really scary ride all by
herself made her uneasy.

   Her hesitancy was noted by the man who said, "If you like, I'll go with
you.  Then you won't be alone at least, and if you get really scared you
can squeeze my arm.  I won't mind." Then he laughed.

   Again she hesitated.  She didn't know this man, but he seemed ok. 
Despite his body builder physique there seemed to lurk the heart of an
artist looking for the approval of an adoring crowd (of one...  her). 
Plus, by being the only person allowed to take the ride, a special command
performance, so to speak, by the designer himself, would give Ida something
to rub in her friend's noses when she saw them.

   "Ok," she answered.  "I'd like that."

   "That's the spirit!" he said.

   He ushered her into the enclosure by a more isolated side gate.  Pulled
back the black curtain far enough for her to enter, and before closing it
took special notice of the throng to see if anyone was paying any
attention. People milled along the midway, talking, laughing, and gesturing
with all the gaiety of a carnival crowd, but no one gave the out of order
ride the slightest thought.

   Inside the corridor was dimly lit and narrow, with a track running far
ahead into the darkness.  They stood beside a number of carriages resting
on the tracks.  The man took her hand, which startled Ida, but she did not
resist.  His grip was gentle and his skin warm to the touch.  Once more the
fluttery feeling gripped her chest and her knees felt weak.

   "Car three is the most comfortable," he told her.  When they reached car
three he stepped in first and assisted her in beside him.

   It was a comfortable car, heavily cushioned, but the vinyl covering was
cold.  The light cotton dress she wore was fairly short and when she sat
rode high up in back, nearly to her panties exposing the entire length of
her long skinny legs to the chilly fabric.

   He draped his arm over the back of the seat behind her head, but not
touching her.  It seemed an innocent movement of relaxation, and, rather
than alarming her, made her more at ease.

   "Are we ready to be terrified?" he asked putting an obvious pronounced
tremor in his voice.

   Ida laughed.  She was becoming more tranquil with everything he did. 
"I'm ready," she said.

   The man stretched his free arm out of the car and pressed a button.  The
car jerked forward.  The excursion began.  They disappeared into the
darkness, the carriage moving with starts and bumps common to any amusement
park ride, clicking and clacking as it ground along the tracks.

   Soon, objects began to drop down from above, making Ida jump, then
giggle at the fright induced by imagination as much as unexpectedness. 
There were weird noises and animated monsters, and cold drafts.  It was
amazing.  It was terrifying.  It was fun.

   At one point she burrowed herself into his body.  His arm dropped to her
shoulder in a protective embrace.  She wanted to remain there, it felt so
good, but in the same respect it was awkward, so she sat back up.  In
another frightful instance she grabbed his thigh and squeezed.  Two
thoughts raced across her mind simultaneously; his legs are so muscular,
and that she was merely inches away from touching a place she had never
touched on a male before.  Immediately she released her grip.

   His laughter let her know he thought nothing of it.

   After about ten minutes she noticed the man reach under the narrow dash
and flip a switch.  She didn't see he had covered his mouth and nose with a
handkerchief.  In an instant a spray of cold mist hit her in the face, the
suddenness causing her to inhale deeply.

   She didn't remember losing consciousness.  She didn't remember her body
going limp.  That is not all of what she didn't remember.

   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

   The man reached between his legs and flipped another switch.  The ride
came to a halt.

   Ida lay slumped forward in the seat, her head resting on her chest.

   The man gently shook her shoulder.

   "Little girl?" he said quietly.

   He shook her shoulder again and repeated his inquiry, this time a little
harder and louder.  There was no response.

   The man knew if she was not entirely out his next move would verify it.
He placed his big hand on one of her knees and squeezed a little, rocking
her leg back and forth.  If she was not completely unconscious she would
react, but he could always claim he was just making sure she was ok, that
she had appeared to have fainted.

   No response.

   He slid his hand slowly up the length of her leg, under her dress until
he felt her panties.  Her crotch was warm, even a little moist.  He smiled.
Fear often induced the same bodily responses as sex.

   He wished he had the time right then to fondle her all over, to explore
her body with his fingertips, but he knew this drug would only work for a
few minutes.  He would have to administer the second one before she started
to come around.

   The carnival man twisted her upper body toward him and bent forward. 
Grabbing Ida under the buttocks he hoisted her onto his shoulder and lifted
her off the seat.  Rising, he carried her from the car just a few steps to
a door, hidden so well with painted scenery that, in the dark of the ride,
it was virtually undetectable.  He opened it, entered, and shut the door
behind him.

   "She's not as heavy as the others," he thought.  "That makes it a little
easier."

   Beyond the doorway was a metal landing which stretched downward into the
depths of the building the ride was constructed around and through.  He
took his time, making sure of each step as they descended.  A severe fall
would be hard to explain.  Each footfall made a hollow ringing.

   A short distance from the base of stairs was a table about the size and
height of a morgue slab, but made entirely of wood.  He gently lowered her
onto it and stood back to admire his catch.  There had been only two
others, both college age girls.  They had been practice.  This was the real
thing; the age he really sought for his pleasure.

   She looked so lovely lying there.  Nothing seemed as sexually
provocative to him as a preteen little girl; the traces of puberty barely
beginning to show themselves in the slight mounds of her breasts through
her shirt.

   He needed a little more time to prepare before bringing her around. 
Popping the cork from the top of a beacon of clear liquid he saturated a
cloth with its contents and spread it carefully over her nose and mouth.  A
few moments later he removed it and set to work.

   He slipped the flip-flops she was wearing from her feet.  Rolling her
slightly onto her side he unzipped the back of her brown, purple, and tan
dress, with its irregular pattern of vertical bands and zig-zagged stripes,
then let her back down on the table.  The shoulder to mid upper arm puffy
sleeves he tugged down just past the elbow so he could maneuver her arms
out of them.

   She was wearing a training bra which for some reason pleased him, a
subtle reminder that she was about to start the journey from child to
woman. He reached behind and unfastened the snaps, then removed it.  He
quickly worked her dress over her hips, down the legs, and off.

   The panties she had on were tan, with a mild camel toe apparent.  He
made himself remove these slowly, fighting against the urge to tear them
off.

   Now, he stood back to marvel at the pure beauty of this child.  Her long
light brown hair, with touches of bronze, extended beyond her shoulders in
soft, gentle curves, highlighting the oval shape of her face and long,
slender neck.  There was not an ounce of fat on her body.  Her arms were
skinny and essentially muscleless.  On her chest two small elliptical
swellings, crowned by pale pink aureoles and tiny nipples teased him.  She
had a flat tummy that dipped down to a swollen mound, split in the center
by a barely visible flap of skin.  Her long, lean, legs, one with a knick
attesting to the fact she had begun to shave them, completed this splendid
example of a little girl's charms.

   His previous two conquests he had raped, penetrating both their vaginas,
and the asshole of one of them, as well.

   With an arm behind her knees he lifted Ida's legs towards her chin,
exposing her precious parts for his inspection, and spread apart her pussy
lips with his fingers.  Just as he thought, her hymen was intact.  Well, it
would be safe from him.  He had other scenarios.  He knew that someday some
young prick would bungle his way inside her, taking her virginity and
probably making her not want to repeat the act for some time, due to his
clumsiness.  He felt envy.

   There was so much he envisioned doing to her as she lay naked and
unconscious, but then there would be no response of terror; no look of fear
in her eyes.  He wanted that.  He needed that.

   These thoughts made him anxious to get started, and there was still much
to do.  He retrieved a syringe and a small vial labelled
Lidopraxxis/Scopolamine-chloralose from the same table that held the
beaker.

   [Narrator's note: The carnival man got his start when he ran away from
home at the age of fifteen to join a carnie.  He apprenticed with a master
mesmerist who made a living doing carnival work, but, because of his renown
and ground-breaking work in narco-hypnosis (trance producing drugs that
allow the subject to accept suggestions, regress for memory access, or
create mood and personality changes; a process that proved successful in
treating multiple personality disorders, especially in subjects with
violent tendencies).  Scopolamine or chloralose were two trance inducing
drugs used.  When the subject "came to" there was amnesia concerning the
suggestions, but the personality pattern changes were effective.

   The carnie man experimented on his own and discovered by combining both
drugs in specific amounts, plus tiny amounts of lysergic acid diethylamide,
and speeding up the trance entrance duration with lidocaine he could bring
the subject to awareness, create intense emotion through sensory
stimulation, then make the "suggestion" of amnesis for all specifics of the
session, except the emotional response.  The process being a praxis (or
applying of an idea), he dubbed it lidopraxxis/scopolamine-chloralose.  End
note]

   Inserting the needle into the vial he drew out a specific quantity,
according to his calculations of height, body mass, and age (all acquired
from innocent banter), tapping out the bubbles with a finger and squirting
out a jet of liquid.

   Picking up a small square paper envelope which he tore open with his
teeth he extracted an alcohol swab, which he applied to an area between her
neck and shoulder.  He carefully inserted the point of the hypodermic into
her skin.  Ida made no sign of having felt the puncture.  That was good. 
It meant he had plenty of time to prepare her, and himself, for the grand
performance before the chloroform wore off.

   He depressed the plunger, retracted the needle, and swabbed the area
again.  If she even noticed the spot, she would assume only that she had
been bitten by a mosquito.

   It was time to ready her for what would be the most terrifying
experience of her life, and it was time to transform himself into the
instrument of that terror.

  
*************************************************************************

   The first sensation she had when coming out of the chloroform was of
heat.  The air was hot and stifling.  It wrapped around her like she had
fallen asleep with the electric blanket on high.  She could feel sweat
beads on her forehead.

   The second sensation was of her arms.  They ached.  Ida could tell she
was holding them straight out from her body, but why?  She tried to put
them down, but they would not move.  In the cloudiness that still muddled
her brain from the drug she could not fathom why.  And, was she standing,
or sitting, or lying down?

   Slowly she opened her eyes.  Her head had drooped to her chest.  She was
standing.

   Confusion was foremost in her mind.  What had she been doing?  Where had
she been?  Where was she, now?

   She couldn't remember what she had worn that day, but now she was
wearing a long, silky, diaphanous gown that was much longer than she was
tall, extending far below her feet to the floor.  Was it really that long,
or was her perspective haywire?

   She knew the gown was a brilliant, pure white, even though the
atmosphere around it, around HER, wanted to color it red.  Why?

   Closing her eyes Ida slowly shook her head, hoping to bring some clarity
of thought.  However, with her eyes shut she became aware of the noises,
weird noises.  Had they been there before and she just hadn't noticed?

   Clanks of metal like a hammer against an anvil, chains rattling their
way through a winch, steam being exhausted from a pipe, whips cracking, and
the worst sounds of all; a woman's scream; no, more than one, many.  And
demonic laughter.  She was so frightened she almost pee'd.

   Slowly she opened her eyes.  With her head still down she tried to look
up and survey her surroundings.  Everything was red and hazy.

   With trepidation Ida cautiously raised her head.  What she saw horrified
her.  She seemed to be in a large cavern.  The floor was uneven, with
stalagmites jutting up from various places in diverse heights, and
stalactites hanging from above.  In many places they met forming pillars.
Against the far wall those pillars created grottoes.

   It took a moment for her to realize what those grottoes contained.  When
she did her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open.  Each one held an act
more hideous and grotesque than she could ever have conjured up in her own
mind.

   Ida wanted to tune them out.  She did not want to look, but she couldn't
help herself.  Her head snapped from side to side focusing on a new and
different atrocity for a moment then darting to another.

   All of them held naked women.

   In one grotto a woman was chained to a wall while a man in old leather
clothing lashed her with a cat-o-nine tails.  The cheeks of her ass were a
mass of stripes, and Ida simply knew, even without the red hue that tinted
everything, they would be red; blood red.

   Another held a woman whose breasts were bound with rope so tightly that
they were dark and discolored.

   A woman hung by her ankles with legs spread while a "leather man"
whipped her pussy with a stick, each stroke making Ida wince.

   There were sights involving women and animals.

   Ida looked at one just in time to see her branded.  The hiss of red hot
metal against soft, white flesh sickened her.

   At the farthest end of the cave was a huge transparent cone, in which
stood a woman on tip toes, craning to keep her head above the level of a
liquid that nearly filled it.  It wasn't until she noticed two "leather
men" standing on rocks jutting out near the top that she realized they were
pissing down on her.

   The whole scene finally got to Ida and she reeled, trying to get away,
but she couldn't move.  Looking to one side she discovered her wrists were
bound with leather shackles to velvet ropes extending to the ceiling of the
cave, holding her arms straight out from her body.  No matter how she
tugged her movement was limited.

   As she struggled a huge jet of flame erupted from the floor and a
massive cloud of thick red smoke obscured her vision.  She screamed.

   Then her eyes beheld a sight so frightening she couldn't scream.

   Out from the fog stepped a man, but not a man.  His skin appeared red.
Ida wasn't sure if it was the light or his real color.  He was bald, and
had two shiny black pointed horns, one on either side of his forehead.  His
ears came to a point.  The pupils of his eyes were pure white.  They
reminded her of a snake, particularly when he tilted his head to one side
and smiled an evil smile.

   Ida shook where she stood petrified.

   He held her gaze hypnotically.

   After a long moment she blinked, then immediately looked down to escape
his trance-like stare.  The sight that met her eyes terrified her even
more. He was naked.  His chest was muscular, his abdomen taut and rippled,
and jutting out from his groin area his cock was reared in an erection.  A
wrinkled ball sack, devoid of hair hung loosely beneath.  It almost
appeared to Ida that she could see a tail flowing to the floor behind him.

   Gathering her wits about her Ida cried, "Where am I?"

   The man smiled again, "Why, you are in the Devil's Pit, little one," he
said, his voice mellow, almost soothing.

   A reluctance to ask the next question entered her mind, but she was
powerless to stop.  "Who are you?"

   The smile vanished.  His face took on a serious demeanor.  "I am Satan,"
he said simply, his voice full of resonance, "your Master."

   Ida swallowed hard and shut her eyes before asking the next question. 
"Why am I here?" Her voiced trembled as she asked.

   He moved nearer to her.  "You are here, little one," he snapped his
fingers and the gold ties supporting the gown on Ida's shoulders magically
untied.  The gown dropped to the floor like it was made of lead.

   Ida noticed two things immediately.  She had been standing on a
pedestal, which was why the dress appeared out of perspective with her
height, and, she was naked.

   "To sample the pleasures of Satan's Pit," he finished.

   The images of what the other women here were enduring raced through her
mind.  Ida tried to wrestle free from the bonds, unsuccessfully.  "Let me
go," she sobbed.

   "Nooo." The word was uttered slowly, with a sense of power and control.
"I am tired of grown whores," he said.  "It's time I played with a little
one."

   A feeling of anger swept over Ida.  "My name is not little one!" she
screamed.  "My name is...."

   Before she could finish he bellowed like a bull, "Your name is whatever
I want!" the words echoing through the chamber.

   This frightened Ida so badly she totally lost control of her bladder. 
Piss cascaded to the pedestal, splashing every which way as it met the
surface.  Some traced a path along the inside of her leg.

   She cried hysterically as he shouted, "Your name is slut!  Your name is
pig!  Your name is CUNT!!" he paused.  "And what a little cunt you are."
Then in a more moderate voice he said, "Yes.  That's it.  Your name is
CUNT."

   He stood, waiting for her to regain some semblance of composure.  When
her sobs deteriorated into hitches of breath he said, calmly, "Now, think
carefully before you answer, what is your name?"

   A panic rose in Ida's chest.  She considered for a moment and thought
she understood to what he was referring.  "My name is...cunt," she said
quietly.  This was a word she had never in her life uttered before.  It
left a sour taste in her mouth.  She felt guilty for even knowing what it
meant.

   A thick black eyebrow rose in a sinister fashion.  "Louder," he said,
"and addresses me as Master."

   Whimpering, her chin quivered fiercely as she replied, only a little
louder, "My name is cunt, Master."

   "I said LOUDER!" he roared.

   Several more drops of piss trickled from between her legs.

   "MY NAME IS CUNT!!!, MASTER!"

   "Much better," he laughed.

   The pedestal on which she stood put Ida at eye level with the demon.  He
brought a large red hand up and caressed her budding breast.  The tender
little nipple grew hard and erect under his touch.

   He raised his arms and the tethers attached to her wrists began to move
upward, pulling her arms heavenward.  When they were directly above her
head they continued, lifting her.  She tried to maintain contact with the
pedestal until the tips of her toes no longer touched.

   The pedestal retracted down into the floor, but Ida continued slowly
upward.  When she reached the height of her chest was parallel to his face.

   The demon wrapped an arm around her and began to suckle her nipples.

   She closed her eyes, not to try to escape the horrifying situation, but,
inexplicably, the sensation made it an involuntary act.

   After spending some time sucking, coaxing, and teasing them to their
fullest potential he stepped back.

   Her small developing breast, barely larger, on her chest, than a fried
egg, boasted fully extended nipples.  She was so confused by the feelings
his actions had invoked.  Her insides tingled.  She sighed heavily.

   Directly in front of her, he raised his hands and snapped his fingers.
Magically a clothes pin appeared in each hand.  These he pinned to each
nipple.

   There was a pain and severe pressure on her sensitive teats.  In spite
of the discomfort, the tingly feeling in her body extended to the area
between her legs.

   Again the demon raised his arms and Ida began to ascend.  Her weight,
even though slight of form, concentrated at her wrists.  She uttered a
tiny,"Ow."

   She reached a height that brought her navel even with his head.  He
stepped back even further to where she might get a good look at what he was
doing.  The devil reached between his legs, pulling his long slender tail
through.  Ida saw, at the tip what looked like the head of a penis; no
bigger than her thumb.

   "You must be sore from hanging like that," he muttered, fingering the
tail's end.

   "Yes," she replied, "I am, Master."

   The word came out without thinking about it.  She immediately wondered
why she had referred to him in that way.  In some respect it bothered her,
but it hurt her mind to think about it.

   In any event, it brought a smile to his lips and he said, "Let me help
you take some of the strain off." Stepping close to her he lifted one leg
onto one of his shoulders, and then brought the other one into the same
position on the opposite side.

   She still hung from her wrists, but a little of the weight was lessened,
with her knees hooked over his shoulders and her bottom hanging lower.

   He grabbed the end of his tail and dragged the tip between the cheeks of
her ass.  She squirmed and raised up trying to get away from it, but he
persisted.  One powerful hand pressed her forward until her pussy was
touching his lips.

   His tongue darted out and delved the recesses of her virgin fold.  It
found a place she had only recently found herself; a place that she
experimented with when alone; a private place that brought her private
pleasures.  And now, it was being assailed by something so bizarre, so
fiendish she wanted to scream and run away and hide.

   But the attempts to escape this attack soon weakened.  She discovered
his tongue could provide as much, no more, sensitive pleasure there than
she ever was able to manage on her own, making her eyes roll back in her
head.  Her throat was dry, though her mouth was watering.  Occasionally her
back arched when he hit a particular spot.

   She didn't even fight him when he brought the tip of his tail in contact
with her anus.  This he began to shove into her ass.  She stiffened with
the action and her eyes grew large, but she did not protest.

   It was such an odd combination of feelings Ida was experiencing; with
her nipples now aching from the clothes pins, the carnal gratification of
cunnilingus, and the invasive pressure against her ass hole.  The sensual
stimulation was nothing short of overwhelming.

   He pressed harder and her tiny hole started to expand, accepting a small
portion of it.  His tongue still probed her gash sending chills up her
spine.  The clothes pins bobbed on her nipples with every movement she
made.

   It was difficult for Ida to concentrate on any one thing, so much was
happening.

   The pressure against her asshole got more pronounced.  She had seen the
size of the dick shaped head of his tail, but this felt like it must be ten
times as large.  She began to worry that it might rip her apart before it
gained access.

   But the sphincter is a miraculous muscle that spends a lifetime
stretching open only to squeeze shut again.  All of a sudden Ida felt it
pop into place, and she gave a moan and a little jerk.  The head had passed
the sphincter and it settled around the narrow neck.

   He moved his mouth away from her pussy long enough to say, "I thought
you might like a little `cock tail'," and snickered.

   As he worked the tail deeper, then pulled it back, twisting it, fucking
her ass, he went back to occupation of tonguing Ida's clit.  She sighed and
moved her hips in direct relation that would achieve the utmost pleasurable
sensation.

   This wasn't right, she felt, in a wave of guilt.  He had found the place
she experimented with, alone, in the privacy of her bedroom, or the shower,
or, even better, the bathtub, and he was rapidly surpassing any feeling she
had managed to achieve.  She knew it felt magnificent, the manipulation,
the tender caresses, the fierce movement of her fingers in her twat as,
each time, she went a little further, wondering if there was more,
wondering what would occur if she pressed on just a bit more.

   She was past the point, further than she had ever been.  The unknown was
so frightening she never continued, but now there was no choice.  He had
reached and passed it.  SHE had reached and passed it and it did not seem
as if he planned on stopping.

   "Is this evil?" she asked herself.  "Is it a sin?"

   He struck just the right place and she lurched forward, her stomach
muscles contracting tightly, a surge of supreme pleasure tore through her
body.  "I don't care!" the voice inside answered to both questions.

   So much emotion; fear, joy, guilt, loss of control, desire, loss of
care; he was teaching her the lesson of carnal knowledge, and she was a
willing student.

   Where would it end?  Would it end?  Please let it end.  Please don't let
it end.  Please let it...  Let it what?  Please.

   She could feel the muscles of her entire body flex and relax each one at
odds with the other.  Then, the relaxation ceased and she felt herself
growing tighter all over.  She was terrified they would all reach a
breaking point and snap leaving her a gelatinous blob, but she was unable,
unwilling, and unwanting to stop it.

   Eventually she reached the point, and like a rubber band car, wound
until it can't be wound further, when the wheels are freed, release came.
Ida arched backward and screamed.  Then her body started jerking in
non-rhythmic paroxysms of ultimate release.  And with each flurry of jerks
and spasms unstoppable moans and cries escaped her.

   At this instant she was not eleven.  She was not a child.  She was a
woman.

   Tears flowed freely from her eyes, like purity fleeing from the corrupt;
the death of naiveté; innocence lost.

   The tremors began to fade, the frenzied jerks ceased, and Ida was
totally drained of energy.  Now, the guilt of what had just occurred came
racing back.  It wasn't important that she was helpless to prevent it.  It
was that she hadn't tried, and didn't want to.

   So absorbed in these thoughts, she didn't even realized he had slipped
her legs from his shoulders, until she found herself hanging by her wrists
again.  The complete dead weight of her body on the cuffs hurt, but in a
moment they began to lower her to the pedestal once more.

   As she stood on firm ground again the ropes continued until she was able
to lower her arms in front of her.  They ached from being above her head
for so long.  The pin pricks of returning circulation made her look at
them.

   She immediately noticed the thick red tail running from between his legs
also ran between hers and realized they were still physically connected.

   Ida's gaze moved up to look into his eyes, so deep, so powerful.  Her
chin quivered.  Her eyes were on the verge of further tears.  "I want to go
home," she said, simply.

   "And so you shall," he replied, "But first, you must give the devil his
due." Placing a big hand on the back of her head he tipped it downward. 
When he ceased, she was looking directly at the head of his big red penis.

   The little girl stared at it.  Her facial features did not change, did
not reveal the thoughts within her mind, which consisted of images glimpsed
in the grottoes, of women sucking cocks; leathermen cocks, dwarf cocks,
even animal cocks.  She didn't have to ask.  She knew what he meant.  The
sigh she gave signaled him that she was prepared to do it.

   Two small hands, still bound, came up to grasp the shaft.  They wrapped
around it.  She brought her lips to it.

   It was all she could do not to gag at the thought of putting her mouth
around it, but once her lips parted and she slid it inside, two thoughts of
motivation flashed in her mind.  She wanted to get it over with so she
could leave, but she also wanted to do it the very best she could because
of how he made her feel.  Both ideas were seemingly at odds with one
another, but such was the turmoil of her mind.

   His cock felt softer than she anticipated, smooth at the head, which was
large, and decreasing in girth around the neck, just like the small one she
had embedded in her ass.  Her first thrusts were tentative, getting an idea
of what to expect.  As she got used to it she made more pointed lunges,
experimenting, probing the limits of the depth at which it cut off her
breathing and choked her.

   Soon she developed a rhythm.  Never having done this sort of thing
before she knew little what would happen.  She knew about ejaculation, and
sperm from health class, and even about blowjobs from school banter among
the girls.  She never expected at age eleven to have to perform one.  What
would it taste like?  How much would come out?  How powerful would it be?

   These questions ran through Ida's mind.  It seemed to take forever, so
she had a lot of time to think about it.  How long would it take?

   And, finally, would she be expected to swallow it?  Really, she knew the
answer; yes.  It made her sick to think about having a man's sperm in her
mouth, let alone swallowing it.

   She was starting to get tired when he put one hand on her back, the
other on the back of her head.

   Sure that this was the sign of an approaching orgasm she tensed up and
began taking quick shallow breaths.  The level of fear and dread elevating
to new heights, she was almost hyperventilating.

   Despite this awareness, when he did come it took her entirely by
surprise.  With a more powerful thrust he held her head in place as sperm
rocketed from his dick.  By reflex she swallowed a massive volume, then
gagged and choked.  Unable to accommodate the second wave, cum spurted from
her mouth and ran down her chin.

   Ida continued to swallow.  His ejaculations began to taper off.  When
his orgasm finally finished he slowly withdrew his cock from her mouth.

   She allowed her gaze to rise to the level of his eyes.  Her mouth hung
open, tracks of cum ran from her lips down either side of her chin, which
quivered, and her neck.  Her eyes were big brown pools full of shame, fear,
and guilt.

   His eyes met hers and held them captive.  "Thank you for visiting the
Devil's Pit.  Please come again," he said, and laughed in a voice that sent
shivers down her spine.

   He placed a hand on her forehead and moved it downward, dragging her
eyelids shut as he commanded, "SLEEP!"

   Ida's head dropped to her chest.  When he was certain she was in a
trance he added, "When the spray of water hits your face you will awaken.
You will remember nothing of what happened to you in the Devil's Chamber.
You will only remember your fear, and associate it with how scary the ride
was."

  
*************************************************************************

   A cold spritz of water misted Ida's face.  She screamed - just a short
scream - and jumped.  Then she laughed at how foolish it was to be scared
by something so mundane.  But the idea of what may occur in a situation
where you do not know what to expect can make the most innocuous of
incidences frightening beyond belief.

   The man noticed her reaction and smiled.  His experiment was a success.
He also noticed, even in the partial light of the ride, her face blanched.
She glanced down at her legs.  Another accomplishment.  He knew she felt as
if she had been frightened enough to piss herself, almost as if it had
actually happened, and he saw a sigh of relief when there was no evidence
of it.  Then she giggled again, nervously, like something was going on
around her that she was unaware of and it made her uncomfortable.

   But that was a momentary feeling, passing as quickly as it had arrived.
Ida settled back and let the remaining two or three effects make her jump.
The ride came to an end passing through a cavernous portal, over which a
massive devil's head, that seemed somehow so familiar to her.  It spoke the
words, "Thank you for visiting the Devil's Pit.  Please come again," then
laughed the most satanic laugh.  This almost seemed the most frightening of
all.

   They alighted on the staging near where the ride began and she thanked
him heartily, telling how frightening it was and how much she enjoyed it.

   As she melted into the crowd, he murmured, "it's amazing what some stage
lighting, prosthetics, and a little makeup can do." Then added, "and the
right drugs, of course." A smile, one that could only be described as evil,
graced his lips, and he disappeared back inside to wallow in his success
and review the tapes.

   Ida checked her watch and was surprised to see how late it was.  "I must
have been waiting for my friends longer than I thought," she mused.

   ************************************************************************

   That night at home, she looked at herself in the mirror.  Her nipples
were swollen and red.  "Growing pains," she thought which was her mother's
answer to anything involving her adolescent development.  Her butt was
sore, as well, but she figured the seat on the ride wasn't quite as
comfortable as the man had said.

   Falling asleep was not an easy task that night.  Her mind kept shifting
to the ride and the carnie man.  He was very nice, muscular, and fairly
good-looking.  She found herself fantasizing about what it might be like
to, you know, fool around with a man like that.  Unconsciously her hand
wandered down between her legs and began to manipulate her clit.  She went
right to the exact place this time, not like other times, when she had to
explore a bit to find the correct location.

   This area was a bit swollen and tender, too, but she could not ignore
the burning itch that needed to be satisfied.  Thoughts sprang to mind that
had never entered her head before, naughty thoughts, wicked thoughts, dirty
thoughts.  But she didn't care.  It was her and the carnie man doing all
sorts of sexual things; things she never knew were possible; things that
were disgusting.

   All at once the muscles in her entire body contracted.  Her knees jerked
upward toward her head which was also raised off the bed.  She quickly
grabbed a pillow and buried her face in the soft feathers, biting down hard
to stifle the moans that emanated from it.  Her body jerked in
uncontrollable spasms.

   Ida kept on jilling until she was sure the "worst" was over.  Then she
lay back, basking in the glow, occasionally an aftershock, those
mini-tremors that frequently accompany a particularly potent orgasm, would
wrack her body, drawing softer, contented moans.  With a smile on her face,
Ida drifted off to sleep.  Her final thoughts before succumbing to fatigue
were, "What a little cunt I am."