Chapter 8 - wherein Nancy kindly removes some clothespins, Jenny
provides the family some more interesting television viewing, and the
"British Schoolgirl" makes her appearance.
If anything, her begging had the opposite effect of the intended. Nancy
gave a little yank, pulling the pin roughly from the tender skin and
apparently sending and extremely sharp message of pain from the breast
to Jenny's brain.
"Auuuugggh!" Jenny threw her head back and yelled.
Yank! Another pin came off, this time from the other breast.
"Aggggghhhh!"
"Well, Jenny." said Nancy, "What do you prefer? Should I keep going
slowly, or should I get it over with and pull them all off really fast?"
giving playful little tugs on the second clothespin on the left breast.
Jenny was almost in too much pain from the previous two pins being
pulled off to hear what Nancy was saying, but finally she got the gist
of it.
"Ohhh! No! No more! It's TOO MUCH! PLEASE!" she begged, looking so
cute in her wooden bra, pleading shaking her head back and forth.
"Since you didn't choose, I'll take that to mean you don't care. Hmm,
let's see, I think we'll try the fast method for a change."
"Nooooo, don't!"
But it was no use. Nancy first dropped the left string and then pulled
long and hard on the right string, hand over hand, pulling in extremely
rapid fashion all of the pins from the poor, pained, left breast right
up to the small ones on the aureole. Jenny just about jumped out of her
skin, and would have I guess if it had been anatomically possible. Her
screams of anguish were awe inspiring and rose, admirably, in pitch as
the pain neared her nipple area. I began to think she might have
operatic potential.
Jenny yelled and moaned and cried for a good ten seconds as the pain
remained extremely intense for that long after the most recent
clothespin had been pulled off.
"There!" said Nancy, "That must be quite a relief!" at which we all
shared a laugh at poor Jenny's expense.
The newly depinned left breast was looking very interesting. Each
clothespin had left an angry mark of a deep, almost purplish, red, over
the general flush of the entire surface that came from the "pink boobie"
treatment. The pain resulting from having them suddenly yanked off
seemed to be quite persistent, as Jenny couldn't seem to stop moaning
and sighing.
Nancy relinquished the string she was holding and picked up the one
attached to the right breast. She lightly tugged on the first
clothespin attached at the base. Jenny faintly moaned, "Noooo¡.Noooo¡"
Yank! "Aggh! Ow! Ow!" One pin popped off.
Yank! "Owwww! Ohhh! Stop!" The second.
With a glint in her eye Nancy continued, popping off one clothespin at a
time, allowing enough time between each for Jenny to fully appreciate
the very interesting sensations she was being treated to. With each
yank Jenny reacted with agonized exclamations of sudden, sharp pain.
After a few, Jenny started begging desperately, anytime she could find
her voice, for Nancy to stop - in vain of course.
At last the last of the string of regular sized clothespins was cruelly
yanked off, leaving Jenny's right breast in more or less the same
situation as the right - that is with nothing but the very cruel little
clips on her aureole and nipple, looking like some kind of bristly
blossom. The breasts themselves were in fairly pitiful condition -
basically a flushed bright red decorated with polka-dots of dark
purplish red. Jenny looked with horrified eyes at the altered
appearance of her beloved bosom as she continued to sigh and moan with
the burning, aching pain.
Nancy picked up the string attached to the aureole of the left breast
and, holding both like a set of reins, she proceeded to pull lightly on
them until each of the two clothespins that they were attached two was
pulled out tautly from the breast, cruelly pulling on the sensitive skin
that it was biting into. Jenny squealed and moaned pathetically.
"Well, Jenny, old girl, I guess you know what's next¡the best part!"
said heartless Nancy as she began lightly shaking the two strings,
causing the breasts to bob up and down and causing poor Jenny to yell in
pain and beg pitifully for mercy.
Gradually Nancy increased the force that she was exerting on the two
strings, stretching even further the sensitive aureole skin and bringing
Jenny's moans a notch or two higher in pitch.
"Boy, these little ones really hold on tight!" Nancy observed, "I'll bet
they REALLY hurt when they finally come off!" Suddenly she yanked quite
hard on the string attached to the left breast, pulling the mean little
clothespin loose and drawing a long, loud scream from darling Jenny and
leaving a little purple mark on the wrinkled aureole flesh.
"Ahhhhhghhh! Oh no! Nooo! Owwwww!"
Yank! Another little clothespin popped off and Jenny's begging was
replaced by another high-pitched scream. I became very thankful that we
were quite far from neighbors or any curious ears. The tears were
simple flowing our of her eyes and her sobs were heart-breaking. I
couldn't help being very proud of my daughter Nancy. She was making
great use of Jenny's fine breasts to impart a serious,
not-soon-to-be-forgotten lesson
Nancy again indulged herself with a few little teasing, tormenting tugs
on the right breast, producing little grunts of pain from the teary
victim. Yank! Suddenly the pin popped off and we were treated to
another operatic high note from Jenny as she writhed with the sharp
pain.
Before pulling off the next one, back on the left breast again, this
time Nancy tried a little swinging action as she tugged, causing the
suffering breast to be swung around, causing some apparently very
disagreeable sensations, perhaps caused as much by the flopping around
of the very tight pin on Jenny's poor nipple as by the tugging on the
aureol.
This went on, of course. Nancy knew how to take her time and enjoy
herself, and I have to say that none us became bored. Jenny seemed to
have an endless supply of yelps, screams, yells, cries and moans, of
infinite variety, and we appreciated them all; and Nancy exercised a lot
of creativity herself - sometimes suddenly yanking loose a clothespin,
sometimes giving playful tugs before hand, sometimes pulling gradually
harder and harder, increasing poor Jenny's pain, until the clothespin
pulled loose. Also greatly enjoyed by all were the ceaseless gyrations
of Jenny's stunningly beautiful, almost naked body. Eventually, however,
all of the small clothespins had been pulled off and there only remained
the two "super-grippers" on her nipples. By this time Jenny was close
to hysterical with humiliation and pain. Her aureoles were now gaily
decorated with many painful looking purplish red marks.
"Almost finished, Jenny, dear!" announced Nancy as she tightened both
strings, causing the fiercely biting clothespins to stand out from the
centers of Jenny's much-abused breasts. Jenny moaned and cried as she
felt the pain in her nipples increase, but she seemed to be beyond any
rational discourse at this point.
Nancy started pulling harder on both strings, with the apparent
intention of causing both clothespins to pop off either at once or close
to it. But these were really on tight. The effect of her pulling was
for sadly mistreated nipples to be stretched most cruelly out from the
breasts, until they were almost twice there normal length. Nancy was
pulling at just about full strength and was leaning backwards.
Effectively, she was being held up by Jenny's nipples! Alas, it
appeared that the clothespins were more than a match for Nancy's
strength.
They seemed to be also more than a match for what little fortitude Jenny
may have possessed. The poor girl began screaming hysterically with the
intense and increasing pain, looking quite lovely as she did so, I might
add.
But there was no reason to worry, because we are a family that believes
in teamwork. One nod from Nancy and the rest of us rose, approached the
scene of action and pitched in. The result was that Nancy and I
commanded the string attached to the right breast and Dave and Timmy
took charge of the other. It didn't take long before the much
anticipated event occurred, or, I should say, events. But it was really
just one EVENT, because both clothespins popped off, after some very
hefty pulling, at the same time.
Jenny shrieked like a banshee, and fainted, hanging limply by her
wrists, her body glistening with sweat and tears. It seemed wrong to me
that she should be missing out on the full appreciation of this
experience, so I quickly obtained some smelling salts from the shelf and
held them under her nose. In no time she awakened and shortly
thereafter became reacquainted with the painful condition of her breasts
and nipples, and began crying hysterically.
To ensure that she drank in the full experience, I thoughtfully flicked
her nipples with my forefingers, drawing anguished yelps. "Are your
little nips sore, darling?" I asked. She didn't seem desirous of
entering into conversation.
I noticed that Nancy was standing beside me, quietly observing Jenny and
her gaily colored boobs with and air of placid satisfaction. We shared
a mother/daughter smile, and I said, "You did a wonderful job, Nancy."
"Thanks, Mom!" and she gave me a wonderful hug.
Meanwhile, Dave and Timmy were unfastening Jenny's wrist cuffs. As soon
as their support was removed, Jenny's knees gave out and she collapsed
into my arms. Unfortunately for her this caused her very sore and
tender tits to be crushed against me and she gave out a weak little
yelp. With a little help from Dave I managed to flop her down into and
easy chair.
"Mom, why don't we put some soothing salve on Jenny's poor little tits?"
Nancy asked.
"I believe I have just the right stuff for young Jenny." I answered as I
got a jar out of a drawer in the wall. What was in the jar was a
special concoction of Dave's. It looked just like cold cream, and, at
first, that's just what it felt like - very soothing no doubt to a pair
of mistreated breasts. I suspect that not many of your readers, dear
professor, expect that this special concoction is as innocent as it
seems. I confess that they are right. About a minute after application
the treated area starts to become very hot, and the heat grows in
intensity until it is all but unbearable. Naturally, areas with lots of
nerve endings were especially susceptible.
I put on a pair of rubber gloves and applied the cream to Jenny's
breasts. I had to use a lot of the stuff because there was such a great
deal of surface area. Jenny really was kind of out of it, because she
didn't really seem to fully aware of what I was doing, although she did
seem to enjoy, in a dreamy way, the initially soothing effect. I
applied the cream very thoroughly, because that's the kind of person I
am, especially on Jenny's nipple areas, taking care to rub it well into
the skin. This last operation woke Jenny up a bit as I rubbed and
massaged her sensitive and sore nipples. I'm afraid I couldn't resist
giving each of them a sharp little tweak, producing an amusing yelp,
before leaving them alone.
Gradually, Jenny began to come to her senses, about the same time that
the salve started getting a bit nasty.
"Ohhhh! They're burning! Ow!" were the first words out of her lovely
mouth. She began to rub her breasts in a vain attempt to comfort them,
but this only accelerated the effects of the salve. As the burning
increased she started panicking.
"Ah! Ahhh! Ohhh! Ohhh! Oh, help! They're bur-r-r-rning!" she began
to shake them about - it seemed that the air gave them just a little bit
of relief. The effect was quite amusing and satisfying. She rolled out
of the chair and onto her back on the floor, writhing in agony, her
scarlet and purple breasts flopping back and forth with her gyrations.
Gradually the burning and her strength waned and she again passed into a
sort of faint.
We helped her up to her room and dumped her on her bed, a forlorn young
girl who now had boobs that were almost a colorful as her bottom had
been two nights before. And her bottom was still pretty colorful in its
own right. She rolled right over on her back, to take pressure off of
her sore tits.
We "tuned in" on the TV monitor downstairs, not expecting much since
Jenny hadn't done any "self-pleasuring" since before the first session.
However, we were pleasantly surprised. Even as she wept for the sad
state of her twin "big treasures", her right hand stole down to her
furry, plump "little treasure" and began softly caressing it. It wasn't
long before she was moaning and groaning in ecstasy instead of pain. It
was a great show, which we dubbed "The Purple Breasted Mattress
Thrasher". Naturally it was recorded.
After her orgasm died down the pain in her boobs seemed to reassert
itself and she massaged them oh so tenderly as she gradually fell into
an exhausted sleep. The family went to bed as well, but I can
definitely tell you that Dave and I did NOT go to sleep for a long time.
I suspect that Nancy and Timmy were awake for a while at least. Yes the
evening had been quite stimulating! And it was wonderful to realize
that there was so much fun still to come.
The next morning Jenny found a slightly different costume to wear.
Similar to the days before, there were two items of clothing, but,
instead of a g-string and a halter top, this time it was a g-string and
a pair of shorts - nothing to cover her beloved breasts. I provided the
shorts simply to emphasize by contrast the nakedness of her breasts.
Breakfast was yet another ordeal for the poor, sensitive, modest girl.
Her breasts had become two Technicolor beacons, covering almost the
entire color spectrum, every color, it seemed, except for their original
white. They also appeared to be quite sore, since she winced whenever
any movement of hers caused them to bounce or jiggle in the slightest.
Her nipples especially were swollen and purple, along with the aureols.
If you remember, the day after we attended to Jenny's big bottom Nancy
and Timmy were given permission to torment it through the day in various
ways. Well, this day was the same for her boobs. Timmy and Nancy were
allowed to pinch and tweak them as much as they wanted. Dave helped
them rig up a little "leash" with some light leather strap and two clips
for Jenny's nipples. Even though these clips were not terribly wicked,
Jenny's sore and swollen nipples could barely tolerate them In
addition, they tightened when pulled, to ensure that Jenny would
instantly follow wherever she was led. The kids made her crawl around
the house on all fours, yanking cruelly on the leash whenever she
dawdled. Sometimes Timmy would walk behind her and encourage her with a
playful toe tapping her between the legs. It was pretty clear where his
interests lay!
I could tell that Timmy was getting more and more excited, because the
next night was to be HIS night. Yes, it's true that he already had had
a wonderful time tormenting his sister Nancy on two other occasions, but
for him it was ten times more wonderful to think of having his lovely,
unattainable, cousin Jenny at his mercy. Now he was like a kid that
couldn't wait for Christmas. My guess was he probably wouldn't sleep at
all this coming night, the poor kid. I really felt for him!
After supper, during which Jenny ate hardly a bite and the rest of us
enjoyed looking at her most interesting breasts, Timmy and Dave retired
to the workshop/punishment room to make final preparations for the
following night.
We made Jenny wash the dishes, thinking it might be amusing to have a
topless dishwasher, and Nancy and I stayed in the kitchen to watch her
at her work. After she finished I gave her permission to go to her
room, but she seemed to want to talk, and I sensed that she very much
preferred it to be between just her and me. I sent Nancy off to watch
TV and I said, "What's the matter, Jenny?"
As she fumbled for words I indicated a chair at the kitchen table. She
sat, but winced a bit as her bottom made initial contact. Evidently
four days wasn't quite enough to heal from the rather rough treatment we
had given it! Meanwhile I enjoyed the thought of having a
heart-to-heart talk with a bare-breasted niece.
"I¡I¡.w-well, that is¡Oh, Aunt Marge, I know I've deserved to be
punished, but I've been punished already - haven't I? And I've been so
embarrassed in front of Timmy and Uncle Dave. I know that I am supposed
to, to, to h-have another session..but¡haven't I had enough? Couldn't
you PLEASE let me off? I promise I'll never steal anything ever again."
I thought for a second, "Well, Jenny, do you really think you've been
punished enough for what you've done to your family?"
Jenny seemed to realize that she had to be careful. If she said that
she HAD had enough, she knew that I might take this as evidence that she
didn't realize the seriousness of her crimes.
"Ohhh! I know it was VERY bad, and I deserve a great deal of
punishment, but it's just that¡that¡"
"Out with it, girl!"
"Oh, I-I'm afraid of, what you'll do to me next, and I'm a-afraid that
you'll make me be completely naked. Oh, please tell me you're not going
to make me completely naked? Not in front of Timmy and Uncle Dave. Oh,
please, Aunt Marge!!"
"Why, Jenny, dear, you've already been just the next thing to completely
naked. What are you concerned about - a couple more square inches of
skin? Oh really, now!"
"Ohh, I just c-can't let them s-see me¡d-down th-th¡you know, see
my¡Ohh!"
"You mean your pussy, Jenny, dear? You don't want Uncle Dave and Timmy
to see your pussy?"
Jenny blushed furiously at this, and stared at the table, "Y-yes, that's
it."
"Well, Jenny, dear, I'm afraid I have to continue with our policy here.
I'm not going to tell you anything about what your session tomorrow will
involve. But surely you realize that Dave and Timmy have seen pussies
before, and I'm sure yours is no different from the rest."
Jenny seemed to wince at each use of the word "pussy". She was such a
modest girl!
"Ohhh, Aunt Marge, couldn't you whip my bottom some more? I'll be good
and stay in position and say everything you want me to say, and, and¡"
"Tell, me, Jenny, is that all you're worried about - whether or not
Uncle Dave and Timmy get a glimpse of your bush?"
"W-well I'm also w-worried about what you'll d-do t-to it¡me¡it. I just
couldn't stand it there, Aunt Marge. I just couldn't!!! It would hurt
too much!!"
"Well, dear, I certainly agree that a girl's vulva is a very tender
place, and if we did punish you there it probably WOULD hurt quite a
bit."
Jenny allowed herself a glimmer of hope. "You mean you w-won't punish
me there?"
"Oh, no, Jenny, I said no such thing. I'm not saying ANYTHING about
tomorrow."
Jenny burst into tears. "You couldn't! You wouldn't!" she cried
hysterically.
"Get ahold on yourself dear. There, there, get along to bed. Here,
I'll break the rules just a bit and let you in on some good news. Your
little cousin Timmy will be the master of ceremonies for tomorrow night,
and you know how much he likes you. So there isn't really that much to
fear after all, is there?"
Jenny was thunderstruck. Apparently she had never considered that she
might be subjected to the merciless cruelties of her young cousin. Any
teenage girl knows in her heart the dangers possible from twelve year
old boys. It stopped her tears and she stared at me in horror.
"N-no, n-not Timmy¡you wouldn't let Timmy¡oh you couldn't, could you?"
"Now, now, dear. No need to get yourself into an uproar. What do you
think Timmy's going to do to you anyway?"
"I¡he¡I d-don't k-know¡"
"See? Let tomorrow take care of itself, dear. Now, along to bed with
you. Go on¡good night." And I watched the demoralized teen slink slowly
from the kitchen.
I gathered Timmy and Dave from the workshop and we joined Nancy in the
TV room. We tune Jenny in, to see if there might be any fun. We had
the enjoyment of seeing the bare-breast youngster sitting on the bed and
crying bitterly, but, instead of comforting herself as she had on other
nights, she seemed to become lost in deep thought. I suspected that she
might be up to something.
Sure enough later that night we were awakened by the burglar alarm.
Dave and I rushed downstairs to find young Jenny, dressed in only her
shorts, attempting to climb out a window. We carried the desperate
girl, naked, mulitcolored breasts flopping, up to her room and locked
her in. Before we left her there I expressed my extreme disappointment
and let her know that she had just added greatly to her demerit count.
The despair painted on her face was wondrous to see!
When Jenny was awakened by the alarm the next morning, with me watching
from the kitchen TV monitor, I could tell that her breasts had a ways to
go to recover from Nancy's rather harsh treatment of them two nights
before. Bruises and discoloration abounded. As she pulled herself out
of bed, it was also apparent that they were still very sore and tender.
Almost any motion that caused them to shift or swing about brought a
wince to Jenny's lovely face.
The clothing Jenny found laid out for her was probably quite a surprise.
Instead of a couple of skimpy pieces of cloth, I had left her a complete
Britlish schoolgirl's outfit, complete with skirt, jacket, tie, white
socks, penny loafers, and regulation green knickers. She seemed to
hardly know what to do with this bounty, but finally she got the idea
and dressed. She looked absolutely scrumptious. I wondered if she
might have any idea of what kinds of evil ideas a costume such as that
could engender in the mind of a teenage boy like Timmy, or of a terminal
teenager in his thirties like Dave.
I figured she didn't have much of an idea, because her state of mind
seemed improved. I think that she was beginning to hope that her
session with Timmy wasn't going to be so horribly embarrassing after
all. She probably figured that even a family such as ours had some
limits to how improperly they might treat a naughty teenager. She
probably figured that all of her worries about the boys getting a look,
and maybe even a feel, at her feminine parts were overblown - that she
was perhaps out of the woods on that score.
Well, dear reader, what do YOU think? Do you think Jenny's future for
this day was to be quite so nice? I think YOU know our family better
than that! Jenny was an example of the condemned person finding hope in
the slightest thing - a drowning person clutching at straws. She was in
fact falling right into our plan, which involved repeated offers of hope
for reprieve which was only to be miserably disappointed.
To keep Jenny even more in the dark, everyone made and effort to treat
her very politely and with some deference. This SHOULD have raise her
suspicions, but it didn't appear to. Instead, her spirits improved as
the day wore on. However, during supper, it was clear that some of her
apprehensions were returning. After all, there WAS going to be SOME
kind of a session tonight, and we certainly hadn't been especially
gentle with her or especially protective of her feminine modesty on the
two previous sessions.
I said, in a calm voice, "Well, Jenny, dear, it's time for your last
session, except of course for your demerit session which will be two
days from today. Congratulations on being almost finished with your
training and punishment. Now, please come with us into the workshop and
will see about getting this over with."
Jenny's rose with difficulty. Her conflicting emotions caused her knees
to tremble. Her lovely dark eyes were wide as saucers and her lip
trembled. Hope and fear battled within her breast, or, breasts, which,
by the way, did a marvelous job of filling out her terrific outfit - in
fact the buttons on her shirt at breast level seemed in some danger.
And now they were rising and falling with fearful quick breathing.
We followed the worlds cutest schoolgirl as she walked unsteadily to
meet her fate - and what a fate it was to be!
The only item that was uncovered in the workshop was the famous
gynecological exam table that we had first used on Nancy, in "The Seat
of Learning", and then later had Jenny on, on her hands and knees, to
receive her caning from Nancy - the "hamster girl" session. This time,
however, the stirrups had been replaced, giving it that dreaded look
that any teenager who has been to that certain type of doctor recognizes
instantly. Jenny almost fainted, and in fact would have fallen to the
floor if I hadn't caught her.
All of her hopes were dashed in an instant!
"Oh no! No! No!" she screamed, trying desperately to escape. Dave and
I held her easily.
"Jenny, you're earning more demerits. Stop it!" I ordered.
This calmed her a bit.
Timmy and Nancy moved the table off of center stage, where the lights
were shining. I ordered Jenny to stand under the lights where the table
had been.
After everyone had grabbed comfortable seats, except for Jenny of
course, I began, "Now, Jenny, perhaps I had better remind you. You
have amassed quite a few demerit points up to now. I hope you
understand that your demerit session is designed to make sure that you
ALWAYS behave well under discipline in the future. Think what this
implies, my dear. A demerit session is not something you want to
experience, even though you ARE going to, so you had REALLY best do your
best to avoid MORE demerits, which will only increase the discomfort you
will experience then. Understood?"
"Y-Yes, ma'am." answered the tearful, ravishing, young British
schoolgirl.
"All right, then. Now, you'll be happy, I'm sure, because of your
rather obsessive modesty, to learn that at first you'll only be removing
one item of clothing."
She looked at me hopefully.
"Your underpants." I continued, and then enjoyed the look of confusion
and dismay this statement produced.
"M-my, my, oh, but I can't!" wringing her hands.
"Either that our we'll very happily remove all of your clothing and
assign you a large number of extra demerits. Come on, which is it,
girl? Quickly!"
Jenny quickly decided that obedience was the better course. She seemed
to also realize that she could remove her "knickers" without immodestly
exposing herself. Self-consciously she reach up under her skirt and
carefully worked her underwear down to her knees and then stepped out of
them. She held them in her hands awkwardly, not knowing what she was
supposed to do.
"Present your underpants to Timmy, Jenny, and ask him to do his best to
see that you are well disciplined this evening." I ordered, with a smile
at Timmy, who was beaming with cruel pleasure.
Jenny walked reluctantly to Timmy and held out the knickers to him. He
took them greedily. Jenny then said, very quietly, "Please discipline
me well, Timmy."
