Melody Smith's Schooldays

Melody Smith's Schooldays

by Eve Adorer

Chapter 19 – The SGS

After leaving school, after finally leaving St Catherine's Academy for Girls, I had done well in life by most people's standards. I was a successful lawyer with a high chance of high office in the Public Prosecutor's Office in London, the town where I now lived.

Every girl has her strengths and weaknesses though. At thirty I was being talked of hitting the career heights; but at thirty I was also a "DZ", a disaster zone in the highly important matter to me, of affairs of the heart.

I am, and can acknowledge now, have always been, a lesbian. I make no apologies for my sexual orientation. Why should I?

People say the cruellest things. They say I only wanted Ming Si for her money. They also say I am exceptionally sexy, exceptionally beautiful, and exceptionally intelligent. When they say all three of these latter things together about me though, it seems always to include the sly inference that I am a gold-digger after money security and power using my lovely face and my divine body to gain vicariously, what I cannot earn and do not deserve in my own right.

I loved Ming Si. Okay, her mummy was worth zillions from oil, but I truly only wanted to be beautiful and sexy for Ming Si and we lived together as girl and girl for ten years, starting before our joint graduation from ******.

When Ming Si left me for another girl and threw me out, racists implied that Ming Si left me for Deng Tsu, because I was a white English girl and Ming Si would want ultimately to settle down with her fellow ethnic Chinese.

I knew, of course I knew, that my Ming Si had met Deng Tsu on the film set. My long-time friend Sasha ran a film company. To Ming Si, being an actress was just an indulgence. She was wealthy enough to work or not, just as she pleased. Deng Tsu had been the submissive in a number of 'spanking' movies Sasha had directed the pair of them in.

I suppose a girl who has failed in a relationship does not readily admit that it had not been working for years. I was no exception.

When Ming Si threw me out, I threw myself into work and into fitness training. I have been told often enough that I am exceedingly sexy with a stunning body, gorgeous features, and astonishing legs; to be proud of my five-feet eight, 37 D-cup, twenty-two, thirty-seven figure, my straight golden blonde hair down to the back of my knees, my electric-blue eyes, my slim pretty nose, the almost indiscernible cleft in my delicate chin, and my full strawberry-red passionate pouting lips, to wish to keep myself in top condition.

I had hardly let myself slip in this regard, despite being such a busy girl. But Ming Si's love being lost by me, made me doubt myself and thus throw myself harder into jogging the streets, pumping iron, machine rowing , stationary cycling and, I admit now, virtually starving myself to keep slim.

Using the sun-bed, I was always lightly beautifully all-over-tanned: such a contrast with my blonde hair, my gold locks shimmering and shining like a halo, and my kiss-red lips. But it took the real sun of summer to produce the pretty little freckles across my forehead, nose, and upper cheeks that made my face so compellingly adorably pretty.

I met Sasha in "The Lady Lawyer's Briefs", a wine bar near the law chambers where I practised. As girls together we soon got round to talking about relationships and my recent loss of the love of my life: Ming Si.

It was an all-girls wine bar. "The Lady Lawyer's Briefs" was a girls-only wine bar. Accordingly, we girls could feel wholly free to chat away on the subjects dearest to our hearts and even cry if we wanted to: and I wanted to: believe me, I wanted to.

Heads had turned when I had slinked in. I was dressed in black. I struggled to walk but still wiggled supremely sexily in eleven-inched-heeled black mules. Around my neck I wore a half-inch wide black silk choker. And, together with these, I wore a black velvet mini dress that clung to me like a second skin.

My "little-black-number" had a deep-swooping curved neckline revealing abundant cleavage between my heavenly heavily abundant frontal blessings. It was sleeveless, leaving my lovely arms, including my golden-downed forearms, completely bare. Its hem was but four-inches down my stupendous thighs from my breathtaking bottom's cheeky cheeks, and thus I flashed the whole length of my tremendously supreme-dream creamy-smooth-bare-tanned-legs as I walked.

I wore nothing else. I wore no bra and no panties no tights no suspenders or stockings. I was dressed as Sasha had instructed I dress for our interview and I was spellbindingly breathtakingly sexy. So heads turned and there were low whistles of adoration of my stunning sexiness, and many pairs of eyes looking me appreciatively up and down, as I wiggled into the all-girl 'Lady Lawyer's Briefs' wine bar, knowing my sexiness and my vulnerability, and desperate to espy Sasha, so I could join her at the table she had booked for our chat.

Sasha stood as I approached. I watched her eyes delight in the full length of my arousing arrogant gorgeousness. As I wiggled toward her, struggling in my eleven-inch-heeled flip-flopping mules, Sasha moved to the bar, as I knew she would, as she had said she would, and patted a tall barstool next to her, on which I was to have to sit in this miniest of micro-mini-dresses I wore.

A silence fell as I turned to raise myself onto the tall bar stool. The collective breath of all the girls in that bar was being held, as their selective eyes focused upon me, and saw my crimson blush as I raised myself with my lovely arms, backwards onto that bar stool, backwards facing outwards from the bar, and my hemline rose slowly; inevitably but slowly; showing bare leg to lust for, and thigh to sigh for, until a ripple of applause confirmed I was precariously prettily perfectly perched, and the girls could return to their chatter, whilst turning many times and often to look once more at my stunning bare legs: legs held with knees tight closed together: legs I could not cross one over the other because I was obeying Sasha's emailed instructions forbidding me ever to do so.

"Hi Sasha" the sexy topless redhead barmaid, with bar wiping cloth ever at the ready in a pretty bright-red-fingernails-painted hand, greeted the familiar to her face of my companion.

"How's it going, and what can I get for you and your lovely friend?"

"The house's white wine for me, and Natalie will just have water" Sasha replied with a smile.

The barmaid slinked sensuously away, looking back over her shoulder to enjoy looking once more at me as she went, and Sasha turned to me.

"You look absolutely knock-dead gorgeous!" Sasha whispered.

I lowered my head and blushed once more.

"You've dressed the dress, but are you really sure you want to go through with this?"

I was a girl with a broken heart: but I was also a girl for whom a broken heart was not enough.

"Certain sure" I answered oozing the sincerity I wanted to convey through my prettily-creased freckled brow, the intensity of my electric-blue hugely-wide black-pupilled stunning eyes, and the pursing of my naturally proudly pouting provocative lips.

"I said I'd do anything to get Ming Si back, and this is my 'anything'" I sighed, near to tears once more as I thought of my lost love.

"You know its no holds barred and nothing will be done to stop it going all the way?" Sasha reminded me.

I changed the subject slightly. "Does Ming Si know I'm in it?

"Yes" Sasha answered, hoping that by saying the minimum she could save me the maximum of hurt.

"Is she pleased: has she asked after me? I interrogated intensely, my universe-sparkling-electric-blue eyes looking for some small token, the smallest speck of cause for joy from Sasha's face or demeanour.

"I'm sorry sweetheart" Sasha answered without looking at me.

Had I had any doubts about going ahead, this would have decided me anyway. What was another splinter in an already smithereened heart?

I lowered my head, chin to my chest, as I realised the desperate state I was in in my quest to win Ming Si back.

There was a long silence between Sasha and I.

"I've done everything you asked me to as a signal. Everything you asked me to do: everything in your email. You know I would never ever normally dress like this!" I all but sobbed to Sasha, as if Sasha could get Ming Si back for me.

The barmaid was coming back with our drinks. She sensed the silence between Sasha and I, and showed the diplomacy innate in even the most occasional casual employee in the bar trade.

Facing out as I was, I was unaware of her presence behind me, as with my head lowered I added emphasis to my 'I've done everything asked' statement, by whispering to Sasha: "I've even shaved it. I've shaved myself like you told me to".

"Oh my god!" the barmaid gasped out loud, very loudly, unintentionally at what she had just overheard.

"Sorry! sorry! sorry!" she stage-whispered with her pretty hand near her lips apologising for the shock of pleasurable joy the thought of a beautiful girl like me being shaved totally bald between her legs had just given her.

I gasped as I blushed never so ever so deeply at what I had been overheard to say.

When I dare raise my lovely head again, Sasha asked, "When are you due on?"

I lowered the heavenly soulful lanterns that were my eyes, and passed my pointed pink tongue unselfconsciously over my lips to wet their dryness and make them even more made-to-be-constantly-kissed than they always naturally were. I then took a stray of my stunning blonde hair in a delectable hand, and lifted it back over my flawlessly soft-complexioned shoulder, and lightly slightly shook my lovely head to settle my gilded glistering glory. "I'm due about the week after next" I whispered dry throatedly.

……………….

Ming Si and Deng Tsu ignored me. We were on the film set. We had flown out to the heat of the ****** jungle. Everything was prepared for the filming to begin, but Ming Si and Deng Tsu ignored me.

I had known it was a desperate last throw of the die to come out here and be in the film that was to be made. I had read the script, I knew what was to happen, and I still thought, despite all the very clear evidence to the contrary, that I would win Ming Si back through my role and her participation in that role. But Ming Si and Deng Tsu ignored me.

I was having a heavy period. I was bleeding quite profusely. I was enduring that most feminine of feminine glories, her monthly bleed.

I was to be the star in one of Sasha's erotic movies, a fantasy made reality. The fantasy was in the story: the reality was in the action.

Silence was called for. Sasha was to do a voice-over introduction as the camera panned around the jungle scenery. Of course, this introduction could have been recorded after the film was electronically cut and spliced, but Sasha liked the immediacy and risk of doing her voiceovers contemporaneously: it gave her a buzz and her words an urgency and an extra-sexy edge she thought.

The clapperboard snapped shut with an echoing crack, and Sasha began proceedings:

"You will never have heard of the Special Girl Service, yet the 'SGS', as they were and are still known, served well beyond bravery in World War II, Korea, and Vietnam. It was an SGS operative that worked her way into Hitler's Berlin bunker by seducing Eva Braun. That brave agent shot the evil dictator after poisoning Eva. Of course, history has been re-written so as not to record SGS involvement. Even now the SGS officially never existed and does not exist; except that it did and it does."

"Among the brave and beautiful women employed as volunteers in the SGS was Natalie Paris. Natalie's parents were forced to leave their native France by Hitler's invasion in World War II. They made their way to London, where they raised a family including youngest daughter Natalie. Once adult, Natalie, a brilliant pupil at St Catherine's Academy for Girls, volunteered as an SGS soldierette to fight the war against communism, which her parents told her was equal in evil to the fascism her parents had been forced to leave France to escape."

"Our American allies were desperate to locate the women's concentration camp being run in North Vietnam by an evil commandant, in which several of their own girls were being held captive. Natalie volunteered to go in. Natalie knew she would be alone and that her membership of the SGS must at all times remain secret. This film is dedicated to the brave young women of the SGS and tells you, honoured viewer, of the representative story of Natalie Paris, the brave French beauty who fought for our liberty in the heat of the ****** jungle in the Vietnam War".

At this point the camera focused upon me as I prepared to be lowered from a helicopter into the jungle on my mission. I was dressed as an SGS soldierette and it was this that the camera wanted to see and have the eventual viewers of the DVD see.

As the camera moved in on the character 'Natalie Paris' a French Jewish girl that this English girl: me, was playing, I was on my very sexy haunches about to leap from the rear door of the 'helicopter' that had flown me in over the jungle-clearing that included the evil Girl-Camp that the North Vietnamese authorities had erected just over the north / south border of that divided and unhappy land.

The 'helicopter' was, in fact, just a high platform with a side and slide door made to look like the side and door of a helicopter in flight.

The camera lovingly caressed my lovingly carressable body as I squatted. It showed that I was in full SGS soldierette's uniform. My bright-as-the-sun golden hair had been swept up of my sweetly slim neck and was held under my American style World-War II steel helmet, which was strapped at my little chin.

Around my lovely swan's neck, at the top of each of my slender arms near my armpits, and around my stunning bare midriff, I wore tight-gripping olive-green bandoliers full of shiny 'gold' bullets for my SGS weaponry.

As a top garment, I wore only a torn-off olive-green vest. This vest was ripped-off just below my thirty-seven inch D-cup overwhelmingly beautiful frontal feminine glories, which were braless.

Below my bandolier belted, otherwise bare slinky-slim midriff, I wore an olive-green suspender belt, with front suspenders decorating the exposed topmost of my orgasmically huge sweat-sheened, sweat-smooth, sweat-lubricated, thighs, and rear suspenders over, impractically but surrenderingly sexily, over my bare sweaty bottom.

These suspenders led to my olive-green stockings, the tops of which my suspenders stretched to two inverted Vs front and back of each leg. On my feet I wore black platform-booties with ten-inch stiletto heels: booties laced up strongly from near my toes to their tops above my shapely ankles.

On my left wrist I wore a watch-cum-compass-cum-vanity mirror. On my left wrist, I wore a strap holding a mini-comb, a mini-hairbrush, a mini-razor for my fabulous legs, and to keep my naughty bare, and a choice between two lipsticks.

On my stupendous right thigh I wore an olive-green garter that holstered my pistol, and a bag containing a towel, soap, shampoo, three choices of scent, two of eyeliner, two of blusher, four of eye-shadow, nail clippers, nail file, needle and cotton, toothbrush, toothpaste, and dental floss. On my no less stupefying left thigh, I wore a garter scabbarding my dagger, and another bag holding, reserve lipsticks, six choices of nail varnish, a battery-powered hair dryer, depilatory cream for my legs and my love lips, and sanitary towels. In my pretty hands I cradled a black Tommy gun

Again around my hips, I wore a sanitary-towel hook-belt, and this held between my orgasmically erotic thighs, an olive-green stained camouflaged sanitary-towel, into which my monthly bleed was silently slowly seeping.

I wore no makeup bar olive-green lipstick. My face and all my gorgeous tanned fit body glowed with the moistness of sweet perspiration. Despite my fitness, I shone with pretty pearls of trickling girl-sweat from the humidity of the genuine jungle we were filming in, and from my fear at what was to come next.

I knew what I must do. I put down my Tommy gun and reached for two leather hoops at ether end of a strap I was pulling around my back , noose-hoops which, having lifted up my vest, I put over my two beautiful, too beautiful, plus-beautiful heavy breasts until they were tightly around their respective bases, and then clasped the catch together in my cleavage to hold the hoops in place. I then picked up my Tommy gun and prepared for my next action.

Sasha's voice-over broke in at this stage: "Because of the speed and accuracy with which it could deliver an SGS soldierette to her action station, SGS soldierettes would often jump in by titwire. Her titwire enabled a soldierette to drop-in silently swiftly straight on target………"

Trembling from head-to-foot in fear, I took up my Tommy gun, stood up and leant myself at an angle, body to attention, leaning out from the platform as they filmed me. I was sweating with fear as the hoops of leather around my breasts tightened and tightened. And then I kicked my lovely legs off the platform and screamed inside my head as I fell thirty whole feet toward the jungle floor, and then bounced, suspended two-inches from the ground by the savagely strangling nooses throttling my breasts.

I had jumped thirty-feet, and I gasp-choked, winded as my body's whole weight, deliciously only 120 pounds of pure girl as I was, was taken by my titties, and I bounced up and then down on the ends of the straps that were strangling my enormous endowments: my enormous endowments performing as shock absorbers for my fall.

My silent inside-screaming stopped as I realised I had done it: I had made the drop. I held my Tommy gun in one hand as I released the press-button catch in my cleavage that enabled me to break the hold of the strap around my titties. I then slid slowly to ground: my tensioned tits slipping out of the nooses. The nooses pulled my titties hard out opposing sides of me and tightening as they pull-slid down my super-stretched breasts, as I lowered to ground, tips of toes first to touch terra firma.

My tits had served as shock absorbers for my thirty-foot fall on the end of a wire rope from the mock helicopter. My tits had absorbed the momentum of 120 pounds of hurtling girl, stopping me crashing into the unyielding ground. In cushioning the velocity of my otherwise unstoppable descent to mother earth more effectively than any parachute on a NASA probe seeking to land safely on Mars, my tits had saved me from the certainty of breaking a beautiful leg.

The cameras watched my every deeply extremely femininely sexy move, as the painfully tight straps eased from around my breasts, and I then wiggled in my ten-inch-heeled booties over to where I could squat thighily to hide. The evidence I had dropped-in by titwire was then hidden by the wire being pulled back up to the platform, which was now mocking a helicopter flying away to leave this SGS soldierette alone in the savage jungle.

Now the cameras watched delightedly as my extremely pretty hands and delightful fingers caressed my huge breasts to ease the pain their strangulation had caused me, and to bring the blood into circulation around the myriad of delicious blue veins just visible beneath the immediate surface of my absolutely flawlessly complexioned skin.

Having caressed my fulsome breasts fulsomely and unavoidably exceedingly sexily: everything I did was steeped in sex: steeped in girl, I was so sexy and so sensual and so sexual and so feminine and so girl, I pulled my vest back over my supremely ample extremely handsome bosom with my delicious delicate fingers.

My breasts were still throbbing as this supremely sexy SGS soldierette rose on her ten-inch heels on her lovely steepled feet on her startling shapely strong girl-confirming legs.

Of course I knew that the cameras were ravishing me. Of course I knew that the cameras were raping me. I wanted to be exposed, ravished, and raped by the cameras, so that Ming Si would see the astonishing beauty of the girl she had bedded this ten-years past, and know that I was to be had and would obey and adore her, if only she would have me back.

I had never been adventurous in bed. I was shy. I also came so readily. Another pair of pretty hands upon me, peaked my nipples in milliseconds, and had my naughty moist in the twinkling of one of my electric-blue eyes. I had always thought Ming Si loved me because I was so sensitive and so responsive, and surrendered so beyond-completely to my lovers.

I knew that my unrestrained squeals, passionate squeaks, and abandoned screams, could be heard next door, as the young housewife living there had told me as much one day, when I had gone around to ask if she minded my car being parked outside her home for a while, and she had tried to kiss me.

Where had the love between Ming Si and I gone wrong?

I had tried so hard to please her. I suppose my private school upbringing had inhibited me. Even so, I had gone along with it when Ming Si had sent me around to the same young housewife next door to be spanked by the housewife and her thirteen-year-old daughter.

My thoughts and memories echoed around inside my head as I played the sexy SGS soldierette, wiggling in my ten-inch-heeled booties my bare bottom flashing side to side mesmerisingly as I tottered along on my supremely sexy legs.

Now, as per the film's script, I squatted behind a bush on my full-thighed haunches. Looking around over the bush to ensure I was safe; as safe as I could be behind enemy lines, I lowered my Tommy gun to the floor.

Having done so, I followed the script I had rehearsed in my head endlessly. I once more looked around to check all was clear. Then I lifted the olive green vest off my wonderfully huge left breast, lowered my head, lifted my breast to my gorgeous lips and began to kiss my delicious raspberry pink nipple, holding my huge breast up so that I could suck myself. Then I made out as if I were sucking milk from myself, occasionally raising my head to lick my goddess' lips, before returning to kiss and suckle on my nipple as I mimicked a girl feeding herself from her own tit.

Sasha's explanatory voice-over broke in here: "Now we see the skilfully trained Natalie demonstrating the complete self-sufficiency of the SGS soldierette, who carries her own supply of highly nutritional liquid and food. Every SGS soldierette was given the necessary hormonal treatment to facilitate this. The side-effects of this treatment was to make the soldierette even more feminine. To be so feminine was not necessarily an advantage in war. But the balance of benefit is clear: total self-sufficiency."

"In World War II, many SGS soldierettes served in the North African desert where they could, as if human camels, survive for endless days behind enemy lines without any need for allied aircraft to fly over and drop supplies to them, thereby risking their positions being given away to the enemy. That was a definite wartime asset."

I gave a little girl fart of fear because I knew what was coming next. I had just replaced my firm soft breast behind my olive green vest, when the film showed two bayoneted rifles pointing directly at my bosom. Ming Si and Deng Tsu had come into the film. At his stage, these two very attractive ethnic Chinese-Americans were supposedly North Vietnamese soldierettes, in green jackets, green mini-skirts, black six-inch heeled booties, and green bush-hats.

As scripted I reached my lovely arms for my Tommy gun, and it was kicked out of my reach. I now sought to get my pistol from my lovely right thigh, and Deng Tsu put her boot on that very thigh and pushed me over into the dust.

As I lay in the dust guarded by Deng Tsu's bayonet, Ming Si, my adored Ming Si, took my pistol from its thigh garter-holster and my knife from my left thigh garter, and ordered: "Stand"

I rose to my divine stretched and tiptoed legs and my bare-bottom, with the impractical but extremely sexy suspenders stretched over them from my suspender belt to the rear tops of my stockings, wiggled rhythmically before my captors, as they drove me at the threatening ends of their bayonets, toward the prison camp, where I was taken before the supposed governess, played by Ming Si once more, but with some epaulets to make her look like an officer.

My mission was, of course, as scripted, a complete failure.

I lifted a sexy arm to salute my senior in rank, and my shorn-off vest lifted to reveal the absolute beauty of my right breast, and its impertinently pointing perkily-peaked pink nipple.

"You SGS!" Ming Si, in her role as the camp commandant, accused

"Name rank and number only" I replied, my dainty nostrils flared and my fabulous chest heaving and throbbing and bobbing with my fear.

"You SGS!!" Ming Si repeated.

"Name rank and number only" I replied again.

"You SGS. We whip SGS see how brave!" the 'commandant' ordered.

"It is against the Geneva conventions to torture soldierettes taken prisoner on the battlefield. You must report my capture to the appropriate authorities" I gasped out, as my breasts juggled jiggled and joggled with the hyperventilation I was experiencing from my rising fear.

I was still held at bayonet-point as the commandant drew her knife from her belt, walked slowly up to me, and cut the holster and scabbard garters off my thighs, threw my waist belt and amulet bandoliers on the ground. Sliced through my suspenders, so that my stocking began to slide down the superbly smooth flesh of my thighs. Cut off my suspender belt itself, and sliced open my stockings so that she could tear them down to my ankles, and thereafter bare both of my legs.

I gasped with genuine pleasure as Ming Si, in her role as the North Vietnamese commandant, put an exploratory hand on my naked left thigh.

"SGS have beautiful leg" she averred in her role-play.

"If I were SGS I would be highly trained and highly skilled in the ways of love commandant" I gasped in short breaths, my gasping showing my still rising fear.

"It is not against Geneva Conventions to take me to bed if I am willing" I tried to persuade.

At this point I lifted off my helmet with my gorgeous hands and shook down my bouncing cascade curtain of down-to-the-back-of-my-knees-length shining straight glistening golden blonde hair.

"SGS whore!" Ming Si shouted, and slapped my lovely face.

Tears seeped from my magically seductive light-blue eyes. Doe-like, calf-like, my eyes showed my gentle loving lovely girlness, as my salty tears trickled down and gathered on my sensuous succulent upper lip.

"Whip SGS whore!!" Ming Si ordered.

Ming Si must now do a quick change of jacket to become in the film being made, once more the private soldier she had been when I had been captured at bayonet point.

This done, I was dragged outside by both girls and suspended by my wrists from the midpoint of the crossbar on a soccer-style goalpost erection, so that my still booted toes were barely on the ground.

To further strip me and add to the prolongation of my anticipation of torture, Deng Tsu used her knife to cut and then tear off my vest, and then to slice my laces and remove both my boots, and the residue of olive-green stocking that had been in them.

As I dangled by my wrists barely able to touch the ground with my big-toes, my legs were being ogled and admired by the cameras, which also drank in my huge bare breasts, high-lifted by my suspension, and my firm bottom.

Under the strain of this stance, my head fell back and my hair, my lovely golden hair, was on the backs of my tremendously shapely calves, as I moaned with the pain of the strain on my delicious arms from being suspended this way.

Ming Si now unhooked my sanitary towel from its belt, and showed how soaked and red with my monthly-blood it was, by dangling it before the camera. Now grabbing my hair cruelly hard, she forced my head forward and ordered me to lick my towel, to lick my menstruum.

I turned my head away despite the pain from my hair being gripped so hard, so she grasped my nose, to make me open my mouth, and then gagged me with my sanitary towel. She pushed by blood-red, blood-soaked soiled sanitary-towel into my mouth, and I could do nothing but taste my own menstruum, as my mouth was stuffed with my dripping-monthly -blood-soiled cunt cover.

Ming Si next showed the camera the whip that was to be used on me. It had a one-and-a-half foot long round wooden handle, near the end of which, a hole was bored through. Through that hole was passed a two-and-a-half-foot long single strand of wire, pliable bare steel wire, which was knotted at the one end to stop it going through the hole in the handle, and at the other end to kiss my bare skin.

This was what I had wanted to be in this film for. I wanted to show my love for Ming Si, by showing her that I would do anything for her. I wanted Ming Si to whip me, so that I could show how far my love for her went and would always go.

But oh, horror of horror of horrors for me, as I shook my head as I watched it happen. I shook my head as my titties waved side to side in opposite motion to emphasise the negativity I and they wanted to convey, even though I was helpless, because this was not meant to happen. I shook my head and thus waved my titties as Ming Si passed the whip to Deng Tsu!!!

Deng Tsu made the whip whistle through the air once and then twice to get a feel of the handling of it, and then it began. …….

"THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped the outside of my gloriously beautiful left thigh and I danced like a dervish with the agonising pain. Sexily seductively I danced on my bare tiptoes dangling from the rope by my wrists as I was, as blood ran down from the cut in my whipped thigh: my salty crimson blood trickled from the curved stripe that followed the heavenly outside curvature of my fabulous thigh and even more from the wicked cut in my supremely soft smooth skin, where the knot at the end of the wire lash had given me the kiss of the darkest devil.

Oh god had I known it could and would be so painful?!!

"THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped the outer side of my right thigh and I flexed the lovely muscles of my extremely erotic legs lifting my legs to point down my toes to try and ease the terrible pain, I was seducing and sensuous and deeply sexy in all I did and in this even more so. I was displaying and disporting my legs wickedly. I was made sexual and sexy by my wonderful muscles shaping my lovely legs wantonly abandondly erotically as the whip made me dance the decadent dervish dance of the dirty devil.

"THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped my left thigh's outer side yet again, and my eyes rolled to the heavens as I winced and sobbed with the unbearable pain as my sexy legs danced and pranced and kicked and posed themselves eye-compelling erotically.

And as I danced the dervish dance, trickles of my warm crimson blood rolled down my legs, following their supreme curvature to run round my smoothness, and find gravity drawing their trickling escape from the pain of my crimson stripes, by running down the glory of my calves.

I was being given a sexual whipping. I was being whipped to make me dance erotically. I was being whipped to make me dance orgasmically.

My gorgeous bloodied legs were dancing the dance of the devil-girl, exciting and inviting, inducing and seducing in their extreme supreme girlmuscular shapeliness, my extreme supremely shapely girlmuscled legs. legs that would have god herself fall head-over-heels in love with me.

Between the lashes I was dancing and prancing in fear: flinching and lifting my lovely legs, dancing on my tiptoes showing the total glory of their erotically charged compelling shapeliness and my muscular power to reshape them and re-pose them unintentionally, each pose being no less, and more often more erotically compelling than the one that preceded it as I fought to avoid my wonderful thighs being whipped again.

"THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped my right thigh yet once more and I cried out with agony and more blood ran down my right leg. And "THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped my beautiful left thigh as soon as my sexy dancing to try and relieve my horrible pain stopped.

"THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped my right thigh and once more cut my lovely soft skin with the wickedly cruel wire whip. And each stripe of the terrible wire whip applied with the fullest fearsome force across my bare legs, was cutting my skin and ending in the ripping kiss of the deliberate knot at the end of the wire lash, the knot that gave it the weight to whistle the more wickedly as it burnt the air in its rush to kiss my lovely nude body and to cut hard into my flesh as it bit me with the maximum force that the end of the lash was flying at.

Moaning with agony, I lifted my lovely left leg running with rivulets of my blood from the terrible horizontal crimson stripes it had been given, and in its raised toes pointed down in a muscularly beautiful girl-leggy pose: "THWICK!" Deng Tsu whipped my exquisitely beautiful left thigh once more.

Moments of extreme agony later, I fell with a thump to the dirt ground as the rope I been hitherto hung by was cut.

The cameras moved in on my lovely legs stretched out by me to try and ease the dreadful pain of my seven sexy sexual agonising crimson-red stripes: the cruel stripes that cut my perfect skin on my exceptionally wonderful legs, to only enhance my erotic loveliness, my girlness, my goddessness, as I panted with pain and coughed and choked from the horrible menstruum soaked sanitary towel: my blood filled sanitary towel that had been forced into my mouth to gag me. And the blood still flowing from my naughty to mark my supreme femininity: the blood of my monthly cycle still trickled from my girlmost part.

"You SGS whore", Ming Si, my lost love in real life, spat out at my tortured body.

The blood soaked blood soiled sanitary towel was forced further into my mouth, and I was made to stand, as I heaved for breath, my bountiful breasts were swinging and swaying wildly both from my girlhandling and from the heaviness of my breathing in supreme extreme pain panic and fear.

Beaten and defeated; and defeated by having been so savagely cruelly beaten, I obeyed without dare of protest as my captors made me crawl on my bloodied bloody beautiful legs, over to where what looked like half a tree-trunk was suspended between two supporting trellises, with perhaps three-feet of clearance underneath the log.

This was not in the script! I had read the script cover to cover so many times I could even tell you how many wine stains there were on my copy. This log, whatever was to happen with this log, was not in my script.

I knew Sasha wanted some immediacy in her films. I had been warned by some of her submissives, several that had appeared in Sasha's spank-movies, that she could be very inventive and cruel,

"You SGS whore", Ming Si in her role of one of the North Vietnamese soldiers torturing me, spat out once more. "You SGS whore: you no subject rules of war!"

I crawled for fear of being whipped even once more: I crawled under the log, and then, at my captors bidding, squatted on my huge hugely erotic orgasmically spellbinding massive and massively femininely shaped masturbation compelling thighs. My thighs made massive by my squatting, my red striped beautiful bleeding cruelly savagely whipped girl-thighs: the thighs of a goddess on earth: thighs to dream on: thighs to cream on; thighs to sigh for; thighs to die for: the thighs of a beautiful woman in the full flower of full thighed womanhood: thighs so wonderfully beautiful that they could only ever have love made to them by another beautiful girl, or by a cruel whip. Thighs too massively beautiful not to have love made to them by a whip. Thighs that should have been whipped every day twice per day since they had taken on the loveliness of teenage girl, with the whipping increased to four-times per day as they had grown to mature woman: thighs that commanded awe or cruelty: thighs that commanded awe and cruelty: thighs to be worshipped: thighs to be kissed: thighs to be adored: thighs to be strangled by so that one would be in heaven before death and mere tertiary heaven, as their two too total magnificence throttled the life from all but your multiple multiple orgasms in the wondrous wonder of their throttling grip, as your eyes rose not to heaven's rapture, but at the rapturous crushing power of the two heavens wrapping you in their massive capture: my thighs: my very very beautiful thighs.

My torturers now tied rope around my pretty wrists, and then stretched my arms out, before tying the rope around the massive log, and thus my girl's slender wrists to the log, and thus the log to me, poised above my shoulders.

With considerable skill Ming Si, back as per the script now, now put a silk rope slip-loop noose around my waist, drew its loose end between the cheeks of my bottom, passed that same loose end through the rope around my firmly flat belly, and then pulled it up unmercifully hard between the still menstruum seeping lips of my naughty. Then she tied this rope, as was not in the script, around the log, in the middle of the log, just above my sweetly soft bare shoulders as I squatted, and tied it off to the log.

"SGS whore stand", Ming Si ordered.

For fear of the wire whip on my goddess' thighs yet once more, I struggled the all but impossible struggle to rise and lift on my shoulders, my lovely soft girlskinned shoulders, the truly massive weight of this half tree trunk.

"SGS whore stand!!", Ming Si shouted, as she readied herself to whip my poor thighs to drive me to the super-girl effort even Supergirl herself could not have achieved: the lifting on her shoulders, the lifting on my soft shoulders, of the huge half tree trunk

"SGS whore stand!!!" Ming drew back the wire whip to lash my lovely thighs, and the power and the beauty of my orgasmic legs came to my rescue as their superbly feminine muscularity slowly raised me up in the staggering agony of the huge log's weight, as I gasped and moaned and sweated and panted in the sultry jungle heat with the massive massive log, its rough bark grazing the supremely soft and smooth dreamy creamy skin of my delectable slim girl's soft shoulders and arms, pulling on my pretty arms and incredibly curvaceous spine agonisingly.

My long blonde golden glistening hair was so caught up under the cruel burden I was under the crushing weight of, that I could barely raise my head to point my pain contorted face forward as I stood on my incredibly gorgeous legs, with my knees erotically sexily dimpled, locked back as they were: my supreme legs bending bowed back to hold my brutally weighted body barely standing, clearly staggering, under the more than Olympic mass of the huge log on my pristine shoulders.

"Mercy!" I inaudibly begged: it being impossible for me to talk for the menstruum saturated sanitary towel I had had shoved cruelly down my poor sweet sexy contralto's throat, so that I was choking and gagging on its absorbent horror, even as I could taste the thirst making salty blood, hours of my drying copious crimson-red monthly bleed, in which the bloodied towel was deeply steeped: my essence of girl: the ultimate evidence of my never ever anyway at anytime questioned let alone doubted for one-split-millisecond femininity. "Please have mercy!" my eyes would have begged were their glory not filled by the tears from my pain.

Ming Si and Deng Tsu, then fixed a rigid steel spreader-bar between my ankles to part my legs some three feet one from the other. This made me almost stagger and fall, as only by having my lovely legs two feet apart fore and aft of me, could I prevent myself from being crushed, or crashing to the ground, under the horrendous burden on my poor girly-soft, girly-slim, girly-pretty shoulders.

I was too all consumed by the agony of this huge burden, not to show the pain in my pretty face and not to have the dehydrating perspiration from carrying this huge log, run down my lovely girlsoft body, sheening me like a mirror, a mirror needing beauty the equal of my own if it were to condescend to reflect anything other than my own unmatchably miraculous girlness.

"Walk SGS whore!!" Ming Si shouted.

Oh to walk! Oh god, how was I to walk!?

I shuffled one bare pretty foot, and then heard the bitter whistle of the violence with which the air was being cut and seared, such that it was a wonder that lightening was not sparked and thunder did not clap, as the wicked wire whip whistled up between my purposely parted legs and slashed the tender flesh of my nakedly obvious, obviously naked, shaven nude naughty, splitting my naughty's innocent lip, as it pouched out blatantly between my thighs as I bent under my burden, with the savagery of inhumanity, so that my muffled scream of horrendous pain, burst the needle on the films sound recording, as I was compelled by the compelling message that my cunt was to be whipped without let hindrance or mercy if I did not carry my burden as ordered, to stagger my excruciatingly agonised next step forward.

My heart was totally broken. My hope to seduce my lover back to me had failed. All the beauty of my body could not win her back. Or was there still hope?

I was now being driven along by the unmercifully brutal cutting slashing striping wire whip being used on my girlmost part, my tender loving, love loving, love giving, cunt. One vicious stroke between my gorgeous legs had been enough to drive me to the superhuman, super-girl effort of carrying the huge log that bore down on my lovely girl's lovely body more heavily than the world on Atlas, and I was but 120 pounds of gentle feminine girl and no muscularly manly Atlas.

One lash, that one lash that has cut my left girl-lip in an instant, kissing my poor lippy with the savage devil-evil kiss of the wholly wicked knot at the end of the steel wire the whip whirled unmercifully onto my girl-softness. My super-soft, super-sensitive nude lippy had been split and now dripped pearls of crimson agony to the jungle floor as I carried my brutal burden on slender girl's shoulders rubbed raw and also bleeding from the roughness of the terrible weight of the huge tree-trunk I was being driven without mercy to carry to torture me.

My journey was short in distance, but my travails were long in time and sheer unrelenting agony, as my incomparable achingly lovely legs, shuffling pretty feet wide parted by the spreader bar, being grazed and bruised on the raw jungle floor. I bent under my burden, to present my roped-through naughty easily readily to the eager lash of the wire whip were I to show any hesitation, or even if I obeyed completely should the whim of my torturers Ming Si, and Deng Tsu will it.

My left sex lip was bleeding, and the rope within my sex's lips was being soaked from within my gentle cunt by my monthly bleed. And my spilt left girl-lip, savaged by the wire whip, was now the epicentre of my beautiful terrible pain.

And as my incredibly wonderful body bent forward under the pain of my weight, the literal weight on my shoulders, my shuffling bleeding feet being rubbed and robbed of their tenderness by the rough stones, rocks, and ripping roots on the route I was being driven, my unclean state, my menstruating-girl state, was being forewarned to any who might be before my seemingly endless path of tears, as my warning bells, my bounteous bountiful belling breasts beat my steps with their silent bouncing into and off each other, swinging like the warning bells of a leper, their exquisite nipples the heavenly ever-silent clappers of the unbearable beauty I bore so proudly on my chest.

I was a girl given by god. She had gifted the world with the most beautiful of beautiful creations she could make in her own image, and she had awarded me not one but two medals of honour to proudly wear on my chest for the world to see and know that I had been honoured by her.

My stupendous body had been her gift to the world. My character, my charm, my alarming disarming attractiveness, my gentleness, my grace, my sweetness, my loving loveableness, were of nurture as much as nature, and insofar as they were of nurture, thus equally so far did god in her wisdom decide that I was deserving of medals to show that I had helped her achieve her aim, of affording yet another perfect girl to the world: and so I had been awarded my two breasts, the medals that only god could award, my rewards for my unsurpassable loveliness.

No medals of honour could honour a girl more than the awards of heaven on my heaving chest: the god given awards fixed to my chest and waving wildly like wanton sirens, silently swinging out and in, and apart and together, and bouncing off each other's sweaty sweet succulent suckable swaying natural heavenly heaviness. These medals I wore so proudly, proudly prominent pertly pointing on my chest, my glorious breasts, were the award god had given me for being the beautiful girl I was.

My two torturers were totally without mercy as I was made to wiggle my sexy naked body at the supreme command of the threatening ever-unmerciful wire whipping of my totally naked body.

I had to be whipped. I had to be whipped, as it was the only way to make love to a girl as impossibly beautiful as me.

Other girls had loved me. Other girls had taken me. Other girls had forsaken me. For me to be loved by other lovely girls was the only alternative to whipping me. Now I had been forsaken by lovely girls, I must be whipped, as it was the only remaining way in which to make love to a girl as beautiful as I was.

To whip my beautiful body and cut my glorious skin was to do god's work: Her work. For to whip my beautiful body was to kiss me and crisis me and my pain would drive me to even greater beauty as my lovely face contorted and my tears poured and my heart and spirit were broken by the relentless lash on my naked body, so that I became even more unbearably beautiful: the more unbearable the pain of my whipping: the more unbearable my beauty. Beauty must bear the marks of the Beast on her bare body. I was Beauty; the whip was the Beast: Beauty must be whipped by the Beast.

Beauty must be whipped by the Beast. Beauty must be scourged by the Beast until the unbearable bloody stripes she bears, whip her to orgasm. And the whipping must not stop with her orgasm. Beauty must be whipped by the Beast until her body is striped and stripped raw, and she orgasms from her orgasms from her orgasms from her orgasms from her orgasms and from her orgasms from her orgasms.

Beauty must be whipped by the Beast until she IS orgasm. Although her skin is stripped right off her, although her blood flows and her nerve-ends are exposed; Beauty must be whipped by the Beast until she is one endless eternal orgasm, a raw red flayed five-foot-eight inch 120 pound 37D-23-37 inch red raw clitoris with a clitoris and, even then, she must be whipped as many times more.

Beauty must be whipped by the Beast until she has no flesh. Beauty must be whipped by The Beast until she has her nerve-endings exposed burning to air. Beauty must be whipped by the Beast until she herself is one red raw nerve ending: until she is raw and roars with the agony of the ecstasy of being one epic eternal endlessly everlasting orgasm.

That was the only way left to make love to a girl as beautiful as me: that was the only way: I must, but must, be whipped and whipped endlessly and endlessly, and endlessly eternally whipped: whipped without let hindrance and, least of all, mercy.

We were approaching a very firm upright wooden post. We were approaching a very firm but slim upright wooden post with flying buttresses at its base, angled to support its rigidity, and a forked top, forming, for some reason, a 'V', thus making the post as a whole into a 'Y' with its elongated tail standing erect and its very bottom deep in the ground.

The unbearable heaviness and my struggle to carry that unbearable heaviness, the unbearable heaviness of the log I nonetheless bore on my pretty shoulders, had, as intended, broken my spirit. I was on the verge of collapse. My spirit had collapsed: my physical collapse was about to follow. My spiritual collapse had broken my heart and my will: my physical collapse would have broken my bones.

My back felt as if a red-hot poker had been fed through every link in my backbone. My knees were agonising me. My lovely strong and fit legs were beginning to shake with muscular contractions from the strain of the brutally huge horrendously heavy weight on my girl's soft shoulders. The shaking and quaking of my legs under the burden I bore, reverberated to my bosom, and my breasts, my bountiful breasts, were juddering unstoppably erotically.

I was on the verge of total collapse as I shuffled my bruised and bleeding feet to stand before the upright wooden 'Y'. I was on the verge of total collapse, but Ming Si and Deng Tsu cared not one jot. Were I to collapse they would merely whip me turn and turn about until I stood up with my burden on my shoulders once more.

This was as true for the film being made as it was true to the real, and real life, hell I was suffering. In the film I was an SGS soldierette being broken to make her confess to being SGS, and to make her spill all and every item of information about the American and South Vietnamese armies. In real life, I was Ming Si's former lover, and she and Deng Tsu, her new lover, were beside themselves with joy and pleasure at having full let to torture me.

There I stood shaking uncontrollably with strain, all my muscles spasming, and my glorious breasts juddering and joddering and joggling and boddlering on my chest to mesmerising erotic orgasmic masturbatory unwritten unheard music.

The St Vitas' dance of my breasts end-echoed the uncontrollable twitching of my exhausted body. My breasts quivered so compulsorily compulsively compellingly, that my nipples were dancing a zigzag of hypnotic enticement that no stripper or pole dancer or lap dancer could hope to emulate: my nipples zigzagged as eye-compellingly as the 'eyes' in the tail of a Peacock. But I was no cock; I was hen, and this poor tortured hen's St Vitas' reverberating uncontrollably vibrating and dancing breasts, with their nipples conducting wild unheard St Vitas dance music, was enticing her cruel fate and not lording over a mate.

Then my spreader bar, the bar that rigidly led my ankles three-feet apart, was unstrapped and removed from me. Was this mercy?

Then next, as I thought, and as I therefore thought wrong, mercy was really being shown me as my cut and bleeding wrists stretched out horrible painfully cruciformly to help balance the huge log on the top of my shoulders, by the girly gentle muscles of my slender pretty arms struggling to take some of the massive weight: my bleeding slender girl's wrists were being untied, so the only rope now tying me to the log, was that noosed around my waist, and its 'loose' end then pulled between the cheeks of my bum and the lips of my naughty, before being tied around the middle of the log: my log.

If this was mercy it was some mercy! For now they were, the two girls were, my two torturers were, two-girl-struggling to lift what this one poor girl had been made to carry wholly alone, and I swayed more in crisis of falling now, almost more in crisis of falling now, than when I had borne the log, so light headed did I become in the instant of the log being lifted of my back.

But, if this too was mercy, it was some mercy, for the girls carried the log so that the rope that ran up through my sex was passed through the 'V' at the top of the 'Y' upright, the rigid upright post I stood quivering nakedly in front of, and let go the log so that the burden that had been on my shoulders pulled so hard on the rope in the 'V' and within the inverted 'V' of my naughty, that it instantly ripped me to agonising tiptoe, slapping my naked body hard up against the pole, so I howled with shock and horror and agonising burning pain in my naughty as the rope attached to the huge log pulled me onto the tip-top of my big toes, the big toes of my feet, launching my lovely legs into heaven-in-heaven of shape, and heaven on earths pose, on the very tip of tiptoed toes.

The rope through my bum cheeks and my sex was ripped up as the log fell, and I was therefore thereby ripped onto my tiptoes, thus holding me facing the 'Y' post on the tips of my toes, glorious legs and savagely whipped thighs both hard together.

Now I heard the chink of two or three metal objects and the clatter of some wood behind me and turned my lovely face, now showing my total exhaustion at enduring unendurable torture, my face pale from adrenalin pumping to keep me going in hope that my hopelessness was not hopeless.

In truth I was helpless and hopeless and I turned to face the post in submissive surrender as Deng Tsu began to push me forward hard against the post, with both of her pretty hands. Leaning so as to apply all the pressure on my trunk that she could, Deng Tsu was pushing me hard up against the upright of the 'Y' post before which I stood high-stretched on high tip of tiptoe.

Ming Si, now put a leather strap around my waist and pulled me by it very tight, to hug me to the upright post, the very rigid upright wooden post.

My head was back as my chin was pressing on the post, so I could only feel Ming Si arranging my breasts. Ming Si was playing with my thirty-seven-inch heavenly heavy huge heaving chest. She was arranging my breasts either side of the post that ran up through my cleavage. Ming Si was arranging my bare breasts, and loving what she was doing as she made sure they were cleaved by the post, and none of their exquisite soft firm girl-heavenly lovely skin was caught in any way.

I heard the chink of two or three metal objects behind me once more.

I moaned with my pain and my contentment and my love and my lust, as Ming Si ran her thumbs casually across my nipples. Casually she ran over both my nipples again with her bent forefingers and watched my all-girl body react as I sighed my wanting and my pleasure and my continuing pain: the pain from my whipped thighs, my whipped love-lip, my agonisingly red-hot burning backbone, and my burning wrists, wrists which were once more being tied, this time at bellybutton height in front of me and behind the upright of the 'Y' post I stood facing.

I listened to the musical chink of metal on metal again, as Deng Tsu increased her push on my back.

But his pushing eased for the moment as Ming Si began to play with my nipples. And oh god how my nipples betrayed me! A menstruating girl in my tortured distress should have been extremely difficult, if not impossible to arouse, but in the instant of even a non-insistent touch from Ming Si, my traitorous nipples, my lovely rosebud nipples, peaked and throbbed, and, as they were rubbed gently, then pinched hard, and then flicked I was hard nippled: my nipples pointed out like flashing red beacons as they throbbed to the arrival of my sexual arousal.

Ming Si had teased my nipples huge, and now she kissed them in turn, and they grew harder still. And then she bit my right teat and gripped it in her strong white teeth and pulled it out hard, stretching my nipple an inch out with her teeth biting down hard and unmercifully, as Deng Tsu joined in the fun and showed me why I had two teats: it was to double the enjoyment of making them hurt. And both girls chewed my nipples in their teeth and licked them, lashing the end beyond their biting down teeth side-to-side with their tongues. And I waved my head in hot agony as my nipples were being bitten so incredibly hard and tongue lashed so lasciviously. And in unison, my nipples were let go and snap slapped back from their inch-long stretch whilst being bitten, and they were bleeding, and they were throbbing and they were pulsing and they were hugely painfully hard erect and hurting from my ever gathering deep-high sexual arousal.

Then behind me I heard a noise of metal and wood and my head turned to see long nails, steel carpentry nails, being tapped through two wooden battens, in which holes had been pre-drilled to receive them, and then the pointed ends of the nails tapped back, so that only the very tip of the point of one nail each, was through each wooden batten

What was going on? What was going to happen. I watched round the post as the first batten was brought around in front of me, by Ming Si. Deng Su's forceful pushing on my back increased. I was being hard forced pressing to the upright, the rigid wooden upright of the 'Y' post.

In one hand, Ming Si held a two-inch wide, six-inch long, half-inch thick, wooden batten, with a six-inch-long quarter-inch diameter flat headed shining steel nail introduced into the hole running right through the middle. In her other hand, Ming Si held a ball-paned nail hammer.

Oh god what were they going to do!?

Whatever they wanted to do they could do: I was broken and helpless!!

Then I felt the sharp end of a pointed object on the side of my bare left breast. I tried to flinch away, but Deng Su was ready, and applied equal, and then more than equal and opposite pressure on my back to keep me in place.

It was done very swiftly. Five taps did it. With five taps of her nail hammer, Ming Si nailed my left breast through its side to the upright post running through my divine cleavage. Ming Si nailed my left breast to the upright wooden 'Y' post with but five taps of the hammer on the head of the nail. With five taps of her hammer as I screamed with the pain, Ming Si slowly drove a six-inch-long quarter-inch diameter flat headed shining steel nail into the side of my beautiful fulsome breast, my soft warm mothering mammary, by feminine glory, and nailed me to the post: she nailed my left breast right the way through, nailing my breast to the post

It took five taps of the hammer to nail me by my left breast. It took six taps of the hammer to nail me by my right breast. Six agonising taps to drive the six-inch-long quarter-inch diameter flat headed shining steel nail through my soft tit-flesh and thereby nail me by my right breast to the upright of the wooden 'Y' post cleaving my cleavage by my right breast. ……

…And it was done. And Deng Tsu let go her pressure on my back and the belt tying me to the upright of the 'Y' by my slender waist was removed.

And I was standing on my tiptoes nailed by my breasts, both of my voluptuous breasts, to a wooden post. I was nailed by both of my breasts to a wooden upright. I could not believe it had really been done. I looked down as best I could at my left breast and saw that indeed it had been done. A nail, a shiny steel flat-headed nail went through a hole in a six-inch long vertical batten of wood, and then through my breast. My breast was squashed where the batten of wood pressed on my lovely flesh, and the nail went on through me and into the wooden upright dividing my divine breasts' valley, to nail me in place. I was nailed in my place by my breasts: I had been nailed by my breasts to a wooden post: I had been nailed to a rigid upright rod of wood by my breasts: I had been breast crucified: I had been crucified by my breasts!!!

My already very pale face looked around in total astonishment to try and find any sign of mercy in the faces of my torturers, and then the real pain hit me. It was if I had been in shock and thus felt comparatively little pain before. But now it was literally excruciating, and I howled and screamed biting down on my menstruum soaked sanitary towel gag as I stood there, my glorious legs on their tip of tiptoes, brutally nailed by my breasts, crucified to a 'Y' post: to a wooden post, nailed to wood by my tits.

And I knew I could not move. I knew how soft my lovely breasts were, and that I could not move a millimetre without tearing them.

My horrible gag was pulled out of my mouth and I begged for mercy. I howled and screamed for mercy. "Yes, yes, I was SGS. Oh god yes I was from the Special Girl Service. Oh please god unnail me. Oh please, oh please, oh please unnail me. Have mercy on me. Oh god have mercy on me!" I howled.

Even in my blinding pain I recalled that it had been chosen to torture me whilst I was menstruating to avoid my torture in any way arousing me, and yet what was this feeling in my naughty? What was that fluid anointing the rope through my love-lips? Why were my nipples dancing with joy? Was that my erected clitoris rubbing on the rope? Why was I sighing now at my helplessness? Why was I no longer screaming, but now gasping sexy little girly gasps with my lovely mouth lips? Why had my tortured body never ever before felt so beautiful? Why had my tortured body never ever before felt so aroused? Why were my astonishing astonished beautiful lightening-bolt-light-blue eyes widening as my sexy gasps begun to get longer and less constrained and contained and more and more surrendered? What was that liquid that was trickling so warmly down the insides of my torsioned thighs? Was it my menstruum? Was it my girl-juice? Was it my menstruum and my girl-juice? Why was my mind sighing, "whip me", "whip me", "whip me", "whip me"? And why, now they were whipping me with the wire whip on my beautiful bare thighs to make me move and tear myself, was I moaning as if each stroke was a lover's kiss, as it cut my thighs and made me bleed? And why were my nipples rock hard as they whipped my bare thighs? And why was my clitoris dancing with joy as it rubbed on the torsioned tease-rope as they whipped my naked thighs? And why did my mind cry to them to whip me, and whip me and whip me!!? And what was this feeling at my complete and utter helplessness, nailed by my breasts to the rigid wooden upright so that I dare not move even as they cut my lovely bare thighs with bloody whiplash after bloody whiplash? And what was this feeling in my naughty? Oh what was this feeling in my naughty? Oh god what was this feeling in my naughty? What was this overwhelming me as they whipped my thighs with burning bloody stripe after searing burning bloody stripe with the wire whip as I hung by the nails impaling me by my breasts? Was I coming? Was I coming? Was I coming? Was I coming? Was I coming? I was coming! I was coming! I was coming! I was coming! I was coming! Oh why was I coming? Oh why? Oh why? Oh why? Oh why? Oh why? Oh why? Oh why? Oh why? Oh god whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!????????!!!!!!!!!!!

As I fainted with my cum, and hung by my crucificially nailed breasts, my naked thighs striped with one-hundred lashes of the wire whip, thighs stripped of flesh, blood pouring in tears from my wounds down my gorgeous calves, a tell tale trickle of my crimson menstruum seeped from my naughty, my slit, my split, my purse, my love-hole, my love-lips, my honeypot, my quim, my twat, my cunt, my pussy, my minx, confirming my extreme supreme girlness: a tell tale trickle of my crimson menstruum trickled invisibly. invisible among the blood from my whipping, a tell tale trickle of my crimson menstruum mixed with my copious carnal cream, as my lost love Ming Si took gentle hold of my head and kissed me on my forehead, whispering to me over and over "I love you!" "I love you!" "I love you!"………

……………..

………"I love you!" "I love you!" "I love you! Sasha sighed as she held me close in her arms.

"I love you, and I love you", she repeated

"Tell me another?" I begged sweetly all-girlishly, my innocent seventeen-year-old's fresh-freckled schoolgirl face imploring.

"No way!" Sasha teased, showing me the moistness of me drying on the second finger of her right hand, the finger on which I had just had the most heavenly cum, as Sasha had made love to me: the St Catherine's Academy School Slag, for the fifth time that night.

"That was me wasn't it? 'Natalie Paris' was me?" I eagerly enquired, trying not to wake up Mary, whose warm body lay on my other side as we three naked girls shared my bed that night.

"Might have been…" Sasha teased.

"Tell me another, Mary is fast asleep, you can tell me another, please, please!" I girlilly begged.

"You be careful: don't forget I have the right to spank you now young lady!" Sasha reminded me, smiling laughingly lovingly at me.

I cast my eyes down and then looked up at Sasha, so blue-eyes-flashing-instantly-green appealingly, that she just knew that her warning about a spanking had wet and whetted my nude-shaven naughty yet once more. I blushed with frustration as Sasha then jokingly wagged a 'telling-off' index finger before my face as she looked at me smiling mock annoyance, before touching her forefinger on the tip of my pretty and delightfully freckled nose.

I lovingly made myself go cross-eyed, and shyly put the tip of my tongue out at her, mock naughtily, before pretending to take a tiger-kitten's snap-bite at the end of her finger once it was safely out of reach of my pretty mouth and lovely white teeth.

Then I sighed contentedly and stretched my lovely naked sated body in my bed next to the sweet scented warmth of the lovely slumbering Mary, who had also earlier made love to me twice.

"You're such a hot little honey Melody! Sasha, one of my first two friends in class when I had come new to the academy, and now a newly appointed prefect along with Mary my other early classroom friend, mock complained. "And besides", Sasha teasingly observed once more, smiling again lovingly as she ran a gentle forefinger up the joints of my backbone, along the pristine soft skin of my completely naked body, "You really must just give me a minute to think up another story!"