The Taking of Pamela Harris

"Not much in the tits department," sniffed the girl they called Bandit, pointedly eyeing up the flat-chested blonde. And once again, Pamela felt an onrush of embarrassment sweep over her.

"I dunno. Let's see 'em," the Cap demanded. "Straighten up. Stick your chest out and show us those pretty little titties of yours," he ordered.

Pamela did as she was told, holding herself erect, she raised her chin and drew back her shoulders, standing at loose attention, her eyes on some distant horizon.

"Yeah, they are kinda tiny, but I like 'em," Cap declared.

"Maybe if we had her play with them a little? Do you think that would help...give 'em, you know, a little exercise?" Maggot asked with a sly leer. Pamela felt distinctly uneasy. The repulsive creep made her flesh crawl, but she kept her pose, her expression blank, her smooth slim chest arched outward.

"Yeah, let's try it. So come on, Cum-Bucket, play with your titties for us. Show us how you do it."

They waited. No one spoke.

Pamela closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she bit down on her curled lip, and the small audience watched in rapt attention as, slowly, both hands rose up. Flattened fingers pressed in on the gentle mounds, indenting the raised pads of pliant flesh that defined that maidenly bosom. For a few minutes she fondled herself, pressing on the little disks to move them in small circles.

"Pull on them, Cum-Bucket. See if you can make 'em stick out," she heard Maggot say. Growing excitement crackling though in his voice.

Obediently, she plucked the fleshy tips, stretched them out, gently tugged on them. Even with her eyes closed she was aware of the gang looking at her, like she was on stage -- watching her playing with herself! The wicked thought sent an erotic thrill shooting through her.

With eyes still tightly shut, she brought two extended fingers to her mouth, moistening the tips. She did this with both hands. Then she plucked the rubbery nipples, holding them in a pincer grip between two fingers, tugging on them, pulling the pliant flesh outward, and letting the taut elastic breasts snap back.

"Hey man, this is great!" Maggot giggled. "Do it some more."

Her nipples were definitely swelling, thickening between her toying fingertips. She rolled the fat nubbins between thumb and forefinger, gently pinched the excited tips, which we definitely blossoming under all this attention, and soon she had her hardened wet nipples sticking out in stiff salute. Pamela was having trouble standing still: her shoulders shifted in a tiny wiggle, and she tried to stifle a low moan.

"Open your eyes! Look at me! Feel yourself up!" She heard the iron commands of Cap, and her eyes fluttered open to look down on his sprawled form and find those deadly snake eyes.

Pamela looked down on her captor with heavily lidded eyes as she resumed the slow, circular massage, pressing firmly, moving the thickened disks around, as waves of pleasure rose up in her. The healthy young woman struggled to keep her eyes open, to keep her eyes staring into those gray, hypnotic eyes. But she lost that battle. Her lashes fluttered, her eyes slid closed; she arched back and squirmed upward, all the while fondling herself. They watched her sway, caught up in rising lust.

"She loves it! It's turning her on!!!" Maggot crowed. "Lookat them sexy little nipples, sticking right out there."

The blond girl blushed; ears burning furiously. She knew her nipples got quite prominent when aroused, and she felt ashamed, that they would betray her like this, yet she felt curiously proud at the same time-- to be flaunting her sexuality like this before these randy men. She was torn, agonized by powerful conflicting emotions. What was she doing!

"Stop!" the command rang out loud and clear. Her hands froze in place, protectively covering her slight bosom.

"That's enough." Open your eyes. I TOLD you to keep your eyes open, Cum-Bucket.

Pamela quivered with a tiny aftershock and gulped for air. Her shoulders were heaving and she was panting like a racehorse. She was flushed; her brow damp. Suddenly it struck her! She became acutely aware of her situation: how she must look! Standing there in her panties, her stimulated nipples wet and gleaming, her hair a mess with the dried cum still on her flushed face. 'What was she doing!!!' An inner voce screamed the warning. Her eyes fluttered open to find him staring at her.

"Now the panties; take 'em off."

For some reason the words shook her; hit her like a sledgehammer. The girl stood paralyzed; standing straight and tall, rooted to the spot; a woman wracked by indecision.

" Go on, drop your drawers!" Cap urged hotly. He was not a patient man.

Still the blonde girl didn't move a muscle.

Abruptly, Cap shot to his feet, his sudden lunge startling the still-woozy girl who fell back before him. Before she knew what was going on, he had grabbed her, dragged her around the back of the couch, then shoved her over the padded back.

"Maggot!" he call for his assistant.

Instantly, the wiry guy sprang into action, grabbing the struggling, shrieking Pamela by the wrists and pulled them downward, forcing the girl to bend way down over the couch. Without releasing his grip, he squatted down in front of the squirming girl to hold her folded over the back of the couch, his evil-grinning face just inches from hers, half-hidden by her fallen hair.

The bent-over pose pulled Pamela's panties tight, the legbands riding up so that a good portion of her sleek haunches and her pert cheeks escaped from the tautly-drawn silk of the panties' seat. Upended, the tall blonde burned with humiliation, well aware that the mandated pose was one of lewd offering, with her bottom served up in the air like some lascivious whore.

"Noooo," it was a long, wavering, pitiful moan.

It was ignored.

"Now listen to me Cum-Bucket, Cap said bending down to bring his lips to within inches of her right ear. You failed to obey. More than that, you tried to escape. And we can't allow that. It's time you were punished -- just so you see we mean business. And every time you fail to do what we say, even if you just hesitate a fraction of second, you're gonna be punished again. See, that's just the way it is, and you might as well get used to it. You're gonna be here a long time."

With that he eased back, and turned to look over his shoulder at Bandit.

"Go get a paddle."

Pamela waited uneasily, held tight in the awkward pose, her fear growing by the minute. She shut her eyes to avoid looking at the weasel's grinning face. She felt a hand come to rest on her pantied bottom. It patted her lightly, then cupped her tight buttocks. The hand began to caress her, sliding the slippery silk all over the rounded domes of her jutting ass. She felt the man clutch a handful of the back of her underpants and yank up She grunted involuntarily as he hauled up on her silken underwear, forcing the gusset of her stretching panties deep into her crotch. He playfully tucked the silky strip in back into the valley of the girl's tight-cheeked young bottom, creating a thong that fully exposed her buttcheeks; laughing when he poked a finger in her crack and her butt clenched instinctively, trapping the rude intruder.

As he amused himself with his captor's ass, Bandit returned with a paddle, an ordinary ping pong paddle its thin wooden blade covered with a textured rubber facing. Behind the bending woman, she handed it over ceremoniously. Cap took it in both hands and bowed elaborately.

Now he went about restoring the panties to their proper place and took his time with this pleasant diversion, delighting in the feel of the girl's slick pantied seat.

"Nice panties," he mused, straightening them out, smoothening the thin silk over the provocative curves of Pamela Harris' sleek butt. "But they're gonna have to go. Way too much protection. Bandit, do you want to do the honors?"

Pamela felt small fingers slip into the waistband of her underpants, felt them being peeled down from behind, baring her butt to anyone who cared to look.

"Lookat that ass! Nice ass, huh?" Her shut eyes tightened, but she couldn't cut out the scalding words that made her cringe.

For a moment no one spoke. Pamela knew they were appraising her bare bottom: the smooth white cheeks pulled taut, the narrow crack that tightened spasmodically with the lewd exposure. They were struck by the sight of the beautiful heiress with her panties down; displaced underwear slovenly left spanning her thighs.

"Not bad," the woman gave her opinion.

"Bet you'd like a piece of that, wouldn't you, babe?"

"Well..."

"Well, you're gonna have to wait in line. Maybe we'll draw straws. But plenty of time for that later on. Right now, we got a job to do."

Now, with the others gathered around to watch, Cap fingered the paddle as he stood admiring those tautly-drawn curves of that lovely feminine behind. He seemed in no particular hurry to get on with it, knowing that the anticipation increased the girl's growing apprehension.

Tucking the paddle under one arm, he placed both hands on his prisoner's properly presented behind. A whimper came from the girl's inverted head, as he ran his hands lovingly over the tautly elongated rearmounds.

Grabbing two handfuls of Pamela Harris' choice buttocks, he squeezed and jiggled the mounds, enjoying the way they wobbled -- soft, yet with an underlying firmness. Pamela grunted. Then she tensed up as she felt his thumbs being inserted into her crack, and holding her cheeks in two hands he pried her open. The captive burned with humiliation to realize he was holding back her straining buttocks, to expose her cringing anus to the world. She heard someone mumble something, heard them snicker. She whimpered. He held her like that for a long time, while Pamela barely stifled a plaintive moan. Then her captor seemed to tire of playing with her ass, and her rubbery cheeks were released to snap back into place. Pamela tensed in expectation.

For a moment nothing happened. She waited, still tense, not daring to allow herself to relax. Then she felt the paddle lightly tapping her bare bottom. It amused the man to see her anxious butt clench in fearful reflex, the coiled muscles tightening down, the crack drawn into a narrow slit as Pamela resolved to steel herself, waiting with closed eyes, her rigid body electrified with fearful anticipation.

Now the bearded man started in on her, spanking the pretty blond heiress with short, choppy strokes; delighting in each bounce of the paddle as it ricocheted off the firm elasticity of the slender blonde's attractive rearend. He worked slow and deliberately, pausing after each slap of the paddle so that the shimmying mounds could settle, and Pamela could fully experience the mild tingling he was generating in the her bottom.

Then, without warning, he hauled off and gave her vulnerable ass a quick decisive whack, crisply meeting the proffered rump, flattening the jutting curves with a solid smack of authority that sent the juddery mounds dancing and had the woman jacking up and letting out a squeal at the sudden shock.

WHAP!......WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!.

Again and again the wooden paddle bounced off the taut upraised cheeks of Pamela Harris' aristocratic behind. Her squeals quickly escalated into high-pitched yelps that rang out in the mostly bare room; cries of anguish punctuated by the crisp staccato of that thin wooden blade rhythmically re-bounding off those merrily bouncing mounds.

WHAP!...WHAP!...WHAP!

Soon he had his shrieking victim frantically squirming, hopping from one foot to the other in fiery agitation; her supple rearcheeks clenched, tightening down in futile defense. The wiggling girl was gyrating wildly, twisting her hips to try to avoid to avoid the relentless paddle. Cap's brow wrinkled in annoyance; he nodded to Wizzer who placed a beefy hand on the small of her back, pinning the tall blonde in place over the padded couch. Starting in again, Cap alternated between solid smacks and glancing slaps, fascinated by the bouncy resiliency of the wobbling mounds that danced under his punishing paddle.

WHAP!...WHAP!...WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

He couldn't help grinning from ear to ear, as he gleefully whomped the rich girl's gyrating bottom.

Wildly excited now, and sporting a tremendous erection, Cap tossed the paddle aside, and brought a cupped hand down delivering a hard whack to the frantic girl. Without pause, he established a quick rhythm, happily spanking Pamela Brice Harris' wiggling ass, savoring the bouncy feel of her naked rump as his cupped hand rebounding off those juddering cheeks. Their pinkish blush began to darken under this methodical assault, while the punished girl's squeals turned in plaintive whimpers. But he couldn't maintain the pace. Soon he slowed down to a stop, to stand looking down on the girl's well-punished ass with his palm tingling.

Between her quiet sobs, Pamela was gasping for air. Maggot released her wrists and they helped her righten herself. Pamela's bottom was on fire, ablaze with a surface tingle and the more pervasive, painful throb of a deep-seated ache; and yet there was this curious warmth that flooded through her and left her with a sexual twinge. As she stood with her bedraggled head hung low, sniffling, and gasping to catch her breath, Cap smiled at her. Her panties were still at half-mast, but as she numbly reached down to haul them into place, he stopped her.

Cum-Bucket, nee Pamela Bryce Harris, was to spend the most unforgettable night of her long captivity standing in the corner like a naughty schoolgirl, her panties lowered to expose her pink throbbing bottom; left to contemplate her fate.

The End

Copyright 2003, Don Winslow