ATTENTION ALL LAW ENFORCEMENT PERSONNEL

This is Janet Reno. My hand is shaking again. I feel like whacking someoneÕs hiney. It is my understanding that this newsgroup, a.s.s., is the Armed Saviors of Society newsgroup, a law enforcement newsgroup. Very good. I have here, below, a Òstory.Ó It not ÒParadise Lost,Ó I can assure you. This story is proof that we need a MORAL man to lead us in 1996. We need Bill Clinton. After all, values matter most. Right, Bill?

All quiveringly she was then, bare-bottomed, awaiting her fate. I could almost hear her little gulps, anxious, her teats quiveringly heavily. I wanted to run to her, to put my small hand over her bumptious bottom, to protect it from the heavy belt that dangled in her masterÕs hand. Yet my excitement stayed me. I was as eager as the man himself, I think, to see this darling girl brought butt-wriggling to the heights of torment, and of inevitable passion. He would fuck her, I knew, when her bottom was red and her cries howling, indriving he would pierce her, spike her with his tool. Holding her to him he would pump out his spermy essence.
Did I wish the same for myself? I felt suddenly as tremulous as this girl, my own breasts moving up, down, up again with my every halting, uncertain breath. In my cunny I felt a new wetness, so exquisite. I felt empty, desperately empty, and wanted to be filled. The man, so near to me, his cock was out, Alex. Out and rearing.
Holding AlexÕs hand I turned to him. Our palms were wet with sweat. The room was muggy. ÒOh, Alex, would you do that to me?Ó I saw Kali glance at Cybil. I did not know myself whether I was asking Alex if he would be so evil, or so good to me.Ó Fascinated we watched hand in hand as the deliciously bent over girl stood with hovering bottom, with hanging breasts and fallen mane, before her master. My nipples were erect, my clitty fully budded, my pubic hair stood revealed to wandering eyes. And Alex too, beside me, stood nude as Adam. We were Adam and Eve, come with Virgil to visit Hell, to see the penitents at their work.
The belt was drawn back. The girl must have heard its slither, snake-like for her legs stiffened. Her knees grew taut.
THWACK! Across her bottom the belt was sweetly laid, a full, juicy stroke, catching both her darling hemispheres, making her cry out at its stinging touch. She bit her lip, she did not cry out as I thought she might. Good girls must be quiet. Mommie must not hear. Sister must not be awakened. Brother must never know (though he be, in fact, lying with his Newton under the bedcovers, reading of such things on iNet even now).
Manfully ÒMasterÓ (I knew not what else to call him) drew back his belt. He was a fisherman, reeling in his rod for the next fling.
SWAAACK! A harder stroke. Deeply it impressed itself into the girlÕs cheeks. She wiggled, her perturbation increasing now.
ÒKeep still, your legs wide!Ó the woman instructed. Her words were toneless, words of impeccable command. They neither chastised nor reproved. They merely expected. She would behave. She would do as she was told. She would receive her punishment, which I knew to be richly UNdeserved.
ÒOhhh, it hurts!Ó my heroine, my young companion, fellow-traveler in love whined.
ÒOf course it does, darling, as it should. Thou shalt not commit adultery.Ó
WHACKCK! A double salute flamed across the girlÕs upturned ass then, cheek juddering. Zeus blinding a slim, full-bottomed Earth with his bolts.
ÒWhooo-ooooh!Ó the girl cried out. Her bottom rolled, gyrated. She could not still its motions now. Round and round she ground it, reminding me of little Becky in the yard, wilfully moving her little ass so sexily.
ÒTell me that you will never try to have my husband again,Ó the woman called out to the girl. There was silence, despite the girlÕs obvious agony. She coughed, she bit her lip, she sobbed out little sobs. But she did not say should would not tempt the very man who now reproved her. ÒYou may have others,Ó the woman said to the girl. ÒWhy do you think we brought you here? Do you think I want a sex-starved slut inhabiting my husbandÕs office? Do not worry, my dear, I will see that you get your fill of cock, just not my husbandÕs that is all. Is that agreeable to you?Ó
ÒNoooo,Ó the girl sighed, sobbed.
ÒGive her harder blows,Ó the woman told her husband. ÒShe is utterly wilful. She would destroy our marriage and run off with you and make you her very own. Show me your love by whipping this girlÕs bottom properly!Ó
ÒYes,Ó the man agreed. But there was a smile on his face, and his wifeÕs. They were co-conspirators, I thought, playing out an elaborate game. I could see that the man was delighted at the girlÕs faithfulness to him. If anything, her suffering for him was making their bond stronger. He measured out his belt again, weighed it in his palm. Then he drew back and fired in a ghastly blow, making me lift my hand in fright. The belt swung in, fast. It caught the poor girl on the undersides of her quivering hinds. It lifted her up on her toes even as it thundered with a clap across her tenderest portions.
ÒAaaaaaa!Ó the girl screamed. Her voice echoed throughout Hell, rousing even the slumbering Indians, staying the hand of the butt-whipping domme in the far distance, her own victim weeping.
Up leapt our own pretty girl, dancing on her tip-toes now, forgetting her posture. I clapped my free hand to my cunt and squeezed it, wondering if a ripple in the belt had stung her pouch. Alex grabbed his cock and frigged himself freely, desperately. The girl herself clapped her hands to her ripe bottom. Briskly she rubbed it, trying to ease the sting. Her titties wobbled on her chest, stiff-nippled. Her skinny legs hopped about, knees bending, lovely thighs arching, calves stomping the floor with her pretty spiked feet. I watched her ribs as they indented themselves into her skin. She was lovely as a model, and suffering so sweetly. I did not know I had such thoughts in me. Perhaps it was my surroundings. ÒHell does that to you, dear,Ó Cybil might tell me. I found my cunny moist and fingered myself shamefacedly. Beside me Alex spouted a tribute to the delicious maidenÕs torment.
She turned. She made to take off her blindfold but the woman was upon her, bending her over again, facing her away from us once more. I looked at Alex, down at the floor. There, spilt on the stone, was his manhood. A small white puddle, all goopy, lost sons, daughters.
ÒAlex!Ó I heard Cybil cry. Kali was upon him. I took my hand from my dell and stared at him. We were peevish. He had spoilt our fun.
ÒIt was only the first load,Ó Alex explained. His cock lost its iron firmness as his words came out, softened. His testicles, so balled-up and tight moments before, now sagged, drooped.
ÒYou are not here to enjoy yourself, Alex,Ó Kali scolded him. ÒAt least, not until you earn that right.Ó She took him by his cock. Scornfully she pulled at it, bringing a yelp from Alex. Cybil opened the dungeon door for us and we went out, me following, unknowing, stealing a glance over my shoulder, seeing the players in Hell return to their tasks. The girl was bent over again, her sobs open and free now, still resisting, still certain of her heretical love. The girl with the Indian lovers was being raped again, the domme with the gartered beauty was once more at work. Cybil shut the door. I glanced away. I was not to look anymore. I would be like JobÕs wife if I lingered, turned to look again. Cybil would lock me in with them and I would toil the night away, fucked and raped and beaten too, all with love, no doubt, but relentlessly, unceasingly. They would delight in having such a new, innocent virgin in their midst. I would have no protection, no master. I would be alone, naked, my cunny wet, my nipples rigid. Truly it was Hell, entering in bare-skinned, seeing those couples at their unholy work. Worship of the flesh it was, where high-born and low-born mingled like farm animals, peeing, farting, mating and pooping. All together, without regulation, arms and limbs and necks and bottoms all rubbing freely, exploring, seizing, thrusting. And receiving. Most of all, for me, receiving. In all my private places. I would be pillaged by morning, Troy after the sack, my hair disheveled, my makeup trashed, my arms and legs aching, my cunny sore. My nipples would perk painfully, hating their stiffness. My mouth would be filled with drying cum. My bottomhole would bubble like some gurgling geyser at Yellowstone. My hands would be sleek with caked sperm.
Ah, how I shivered, walking away from all that. Cybil treaded softly behind me, seeing my hips sway, knowing my wants, my wretched needs. Here in this amazing place new thoughts came to me, unbidden. Thoughts from girlhood dreams, but more vivid, of hunters on the chase, of little fawns running, of Paul Bunyan stooping down and grabbing me up from my woodland rabbithole. His cock bulged in his trousers. His axe threatened to rend me if I did not obey. I would be his bedmate, or his dinner. It was my decision, yes. Either way I would have to spread. To be stuffed in bed, or in the kitchen, turkey-like, for his evening meal.
ÒCome, such fine equipment must not go to waste,Ó Kali teasingly told Alex. He was limp now. I saw his genitals as he passed a hallway mirror. KaliÕs voice was sardonic. Yet I knew her words to be truthful, for in his hardness he was amazing indeed. A cockstand fit for a champion, I thought. He had eaten Wheaties as a boy and they had grown him up tall as the wheatfields of Kansas. Where it counted. The third leg. A leg of lamb, or of cock, my dear. We shall stuff it up your turkey-twat.
Instinctively I touched myself. Cybil, behind me, saw my squeezing, noted the pressing juncture of my thighs.
ÒDo you have to pee?Ó she asked.
ÒA little,Ó I answered. We both knew, though, that it was passion that had impelled my hand. Our eyes met. I thought her pretty then, her full gypsy figure, bosoming into my bosoms, her hips wider than mine, full-formed. I felt a yearning as I had not ever before. A woman? Was I, a female myself, so impressed with a fellow female that I would...?
God, love is strange. It was the environment, I know. The big house, the echoing halls. From the outside it looked unimpressive but once within its walls new expanses seemed to appear. Dr. Who in his phone booth, traveling the lanes of love. Yes, I was the Good Doctoress, wasnÕt I? Exploring in the name of science.
Kali looked over her shoulder. There was a grin on her face. She squeezed AlexÕs behind reassuringly, impelling him forward. Lost in his loss he did not know of my imminent departure.
ÒI had a pet dog once,Ó Cybil began, gazing into my eyes. ÒA little dog. I lived in an apartment then. When it wanted to pee I took it outside for a little walk. The gentlemen admired me. And my little dog too.Ó Did I hear the voice of the Wicked Witch of the West? Was I in Oz now, threatened, or loved? Cybil turned me about. ÒIt frames your ass beautifully, but really, doggies do not need such things,Ó she said of my corset. She unlaced me. I stood quietly. I liked having the corset off. Why wear it, when I was otherwise naked? It seemed unfair. A kind of last remnant of civilization, of morality, in a world, a displaced place, that had freed itself of such cumbersome things.
Cybil eased the corset off my figure. I breathed easily. I found new freedom in the sleek hefting of my ribs beneath my breasts, expanding as I breathed. Cybil stroked my mane of blonde hair. Her hands flitted over my bottom. She turned me round. I faced her. My cunny tingling, my breasts thorn-like at their peaks, I let my eyes gaze into hers. They were mysterious, plotting.
ÒThe shoes are perfect,Ó she said. ÒBut you need a collar, a leash.Ó I let her fingers play over my hips, trace their outlines. I wanted to explore new frontiers with her. To go where no girl had gone before. We would go to places John Luc Picard never dreamed of.
Cybil took me into the kitchen. She opened a drawer. She took out a collar. It was made of rough leather. She buckled it on me. ÒToo tight?Ó she asked. I nodded. She loosened it a notch. I felt the leather against my skin. The inside of it had been softened somehow. It was not uncomfortable. She attached a leash to me from behind. I wore the collar backwards. The leash ran down my back and its tip settled in my bottomcrack. I felt as if I were being silently invaded by it. When I shifted my weight it moved, rustled. ÒSo pretty,Ó Cybil said, admiring me. ÒCome upstairs with me. I must dress. We must take a walk in the park so you can pee. Do you have to poop? Here, have these granola bars. Munch on them while you await me.Ó I looked at the bars. I could not believe her wickedness.
ÒYou could not,Ó I breathed. I wanted to obey, to be her friend, but it was so strange, so bizarre. It was the kind of thing you read about on a.s.s., saying to yourself, ÔOh sure, sure this would happen. Sure they would do this. Exon should ban stuff like this, it is so silly.Õ But, perhaps because of the impossibility of it in my mind, the utter nonsensicalness of it, I lifted the granola bar to my lips and bit into it. ÒMmmm, roasted chestnuts,Ó I admitted, smiling at the taste.
ÒWith a mild laxative,Ó she replied. They were medicinal bars, but they tasted good. ÒEat your fill, I want you to make a nice poop in the park, in front of all the gentlemen. I have a pooper-scooper, donÕt worry. If youÕre too runny afterward I can give you something to stop you up again. But there shouldnÕt be any problem. ItÕs mostly just wholesome food. Fill up your tummy. I may lock you in the dungeon afterward and mightnÕt get anything more for days.Ó
I bit again. I felt like a fish. I was hooked. She had me, my cunny wet and tingling, my nipples poking up at her, my breasts uptilted in their fulsomeness. She watched me eat a moment, then turned, beckoned me to follow. Upstairs we went together. We held hands on the stairsteps and mounted them together. In the distance I heard a man groan and the cracking of a leather whip. Alex. Kali. I knew he was getting punished for spilling his seed. ÒHe deserves it,Ó I said smugly to Cybil. She smiled, said nothing.
Despite her arousal, Cybil encumbered herself with clothes. She put on panties first. Then stockings, drawing them tight, hooking them with the garters of a corset she made me tie her into. Then came a hooped skirt, eighteenth-century style. Lastly a bonnet, and a parasol. She repaired her makeup, then mine.
ÒCome, dear, we must have your walk now,Ó she said to me. I felt shiveringly vulnerable in my nakedness. At the door she donned gloves. A final touch of civility. Then we left her bedroom behind. Did I envy her her clothes? I did not know. Surely I would soon. It depended on where we went, didnÕt it? Were we leaving the house? Surely we could not!
Downstairs we went. Near the front door she stopped. She turned into a small bathroom. She took a towel from the towel bar there. She brought it to me folded over her arm. ÒHere, put this on,Ó she said. I took it from her. It smelled fresh. It was soft. Carefully I wrapped it around myself. It barely fit. I saw how it indented my breasts, leaving them bulging out, just covering the nipples. Below it just stretched far enough to hide my pubis.
ÒThey will think we are going to a public bath,Ó Cybil smiled. She took my hand.
ÒWhat about Kali?Ó I asked.
ÒNo matter,Ó Cybil replied. Alex has his hands full with her. He doesnÕt need another tormentress. He will wish soon he hadnÕt paid for her services, let alone yours.Ó We approached the front door together, hand-holding, girls going to nursery school together. Leaning against the front door I saw it. A pooper-scooper. Who had placed it there? Becky? Did she know of my fate? I blushed deeply, thinking she might. That such a little urchin should know...
We stepped outside. It was dark. Somberly the street lights lit the pavement with little pools of light. A police car slipped past, unseeing. We stood on CybilÕs porch, bathed in shadow. A limo pulled up. It was rented, I saw. The driver! He at least would see me! I could not bear the thought. Cybil pressed my hand firmly, drew me forward. I stumbled down the front porch steps. My heels were spiky, showy. They were not good for walking in. Tucking a finger into the top of my towel to keep it up, I walked down the frontyard walkway with Cybil beside me. I dared not glance to the left or the right. My hair hung alongside my eyes, hiding my face a little, disguising me. I thought I heard laughter in the distance, voices. Were people sitting out on their front porch? It was warm out. I prayed they were inside, their voices drifting out through open windows.
The limo driver got out, awaited us. He opened the limo door. Cybil made me get in first, followed. I smelled fresh leather, clean, newly polished. I was glad of it. My bare bottom made contact with it. I held the towel to me, clinging to it like some stricken passenger might hold a life preserver on the drowning Titanic.
We sped away from CybilÕs house, from Hell. But where were we going? Cybil took out a blindfold from some hidden place in her bodice. ÒYou must not know, dear, it is the rules,Ó she said. Quietly she tied the blindfold over my eyes. I sat still, feeling the soft swathing fabric bind me. I was blind now, a young Oedipus. When she was done Cybil stroked my nearest thigh. Shiveringly I sat beside her, anxious, uncertain. I was a fawn. I had submitted to the huntress. I did not have to be shot.
We rode. We arrived. I was taken from the limo. I was brought inside, still blindfolded, unknowing. I heard voices. We walked, me unsteady in my heels, Cybil firmly striding, guiding me.
My blindfold was unfurled. I blinked. I was in a backyard garden. My breath caught in my throat. My titties bobbed on my chest in surprise. I saw gentlemen, suavely dressed, women too, some attired like Cybil.
ÒWhat a pleasant surprise,Ó a woman said, coming forward. She had red hair. It was piled atop her head. She wore a formal gown, all frilly, sequined. Without any introduction she took my chin, kissed me on my mouth. Her tongue drove into me and stabbed within my mouth. She released me. She drew back. She smiled.
ÒMay I walk my doggie?Ó Cybil asked. Her voice was sweet, plaintive.
ÒYes, please do,Ó the woman answered. Cybil took me by my leash. She lifted it off my back, out of the slumbering crease of my bottom.
ÒDown, doggie,Ó Cybil told me. She brushed my long hair with her hand as she spoke. Feeling awkward, almost wanting to laugh, yet mortified, I knelt onto the ground. It was soft grass, Japanese grass. It would not hurt me. ÒUp with your bottom,Ó Cybil said. She lifted her open-toed shoe, pressed her toes to my belly. I leaned forward and arched my butt up. I did not want to, knew I had to. ÒWiggle it, show it off,Ó Cybil urged. I waggled my butt like a dog, feeling ludicrous, blushing deeply. Right down to my toes.
ÒAh, delightful creature,Ó I heard a woman sigh.
ÒShe is not house-broken, though,Ó Cybil replied. ÒI must use your yard.Ó
ÒGo ahead,Ó the red-haired woman answered. She seemed eager to see my display. I felt my need then, knew I had suppressed it on the ride over. But no. I would not do it. I would not embarrass myself in front of these strangers by doing such horrid things. Peeing? Pooping? It was awful, truly!
Cybil toed my bottom. ÒGo,Ó she said. I hoped she meant to move, to crawl, for I pawed my way forward across the grass in response. ÒOh! She IS a doggie!Ó Cybil, evidently surprised, cried out. She followed. I pulled on my leash like an eager puppy.
The yard was bright as day. Overhead lamps lit my bottom-rolling four-legged crawl across the grass. I found a bed of flowers. Daffodils. Delicately I sniffed them. I liked their fresh scent. I kneed on. I met a man. He gazed down at me, quite pleased with my demeanor. I wagged my tail at him. I could not help it. I felt a fullness in my bladder, in my nether tube. I realized I had to go pretty badly. Could I hold it? Would they let me prance around a bit and then let me get up, like a dignified young lady, and go use the toilet? As I watched the man unzipped himself. His cock stemmed out. The garden party was sprouting new growth. A dozen penises soon burst forth from flies and stood quavering in the air, fully erect, all deliciously over-sized, long and wiggly, with perfect heads.
I lost my head, my manners. I squatted as neatly as I could and let my bottom hang behind my heels. I was grateful for their height, now. They would keep me aloft, above the impending puddle. Looking up at the man, I peed into the grass.
ÒAh, not housebroken indeed,Ó a woman said behind me. I shivered. It was the redhead. Lightly she caressed my back. When I was finished I stood. The game was over, wasnÕt it? I was heel deep in a puddle. I could not crawl out of it without splashing myself.
ÒCome here,Ó the redhead said. She took my hand. I thought she would lead me to the privacy of a bathroom for my number two. Instead she took me out to the daffodils. She turned me around. There was a whiff of lilacs in the air, from nearby bushes. ÒPlease fertilize my plants,Ó she said. She pushed my head down, a hand under my belly. Like a mechanism she bent me forward. I grabbed my knees. She pushed against my back and I let my hands slide farther down my legs in response. My long hair hung down. It wavered softly in the air.
The redhead separated my legs. I adjusted, letting her part me, knowing I could not do otherwise. Cybil appeared beside me, her pooper-scooper in her hand, but I guessed she would not get to use it. My shit was needed, according to the redhead.
ÒPoop,Ó the redhead commanded. I felt my titties flinch at that. My bottom quavered. I did not want to. I felt the enema at work, the laced granola bars. Their remains slid down my chute. I drew in my cheeks, trying to stop them. I felt fullness. ÒBear down, child,Ó the redhead said, stroking my hinds with swirling fingertips. In a moment I would be dirty.
I gritted my teeth. I flexed my cheeks, feeling a sliding within me. And then, then I knew. Something big was nosing its way out of my hiney. My virgin hole. Nothing had ever gone up it. But this one was big, coming down. Would it prepare me?
A plop. I looked between my slim, spread legs. At my heels, just beyond the spikes, a big turd lay upon the daffodils. It would nourish them. I felt another one coming.