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The Punishment Master

Tom Young

This page copyright © 2007 Olympia Press.

CHAPTER ONE

When Ellie Brighton first heard the sound of people talking, she was lying naked by the side of a pool. She had thought herself alone; had, in fact, stripped down to the skin to sunbathe next to the pool, where she had been swimming; and when she heard voices she jumped up and stood there for a moment, looking confused.

Her heart pounded. Her clothes were on the other side of the pool, near a sycamore tree, draped over a fallen limb. For a moment she stood there and looked across the pool helplessly. The voices were so close! Someone was coming up the stream, someone from the camp, and when they saw her here, alone, naked—well, she would never live it down. The people at the camp were all so proper, so decent—that was why Ellie had gone there, after all. And to be found like this—!

She ran around the pool and grabbed up her clothes, but even that one moment of hesitation had made it impossible for her to escape. The voices were almost up to the pool; she had to hide, to hope that whoever it was would keep going, would pass the pool, never even seeing her.

She crept behind a drift of wood that had caught up against the trunk of the sycamore during the spring rains. There she was hidden for the moment, lying motionless in the dappled shadow of the sycamore, clutching her clothes.

She felt scared. A few moments ago, warmed by the hot sun, she had felt herself growing excited, sexually excited. She had noticed suddenly that she could smell her own body. It smelled of sweat, a deep, musky odor that was strangely exciting to her. She had done nothing bad, of course; she had not touched herself down there. But, as often happened to her lately, she had felt herself growing liquid down there, had become aware of a tantalizing itch that she knew to be sinful. It was perhaps this itch, this lusting, that had made her take off her swimsuit—a modest, one-piece suit, quite old-fashioned in comparison to the bikinis of the other girls at the camp—and lay in the hot sand on the other side of the pool, her legs spread, feeling the warm breeze wash over her body and, tantalizing her, explore every part of her young body.

Then she recognized the voices. The one—smooth, controlled, the voice of a man—was that of Burt Conroy, a prosperous salesman, quite young, who had most of the girls in camp panting after him. Tall, strongly built, he had a way about him that made a girl feel helpless. Ellie had avoided him, recognizing this force, this curious strength. She had seen Burt beckon to a girl and wait casually, with a sort of regal grace, for the girl to approach. He gave orders to all the girls, orders that were obeyed. The girls fetched things for him, took his messages—often messages to other girls!—and, according to Cindy Wheeler, Ellie's friend, they did other things for him as well, with equal willingness, behind closed doors. But Cindy had that kind of imagination. The other voice was that of Liz Dodson, a strikingly beautiful girl whom the other girls disliked because of her flirting, which was constant and had all the men—including, apparently, Burt Conroy—hanging around her from morning to night, waiting for their chance to talk to her.

Ellie got down lower. She fumbled with her swimsuit, trying to get it on, but realized quickly that she couldn't possibly get it on without attracting attention. And anyway it seemed unlikely that Burt and Liz would stay around very long. They didn't swim, either of them, although they did spend most of their time around the pool in camp.

“Is this okay?” said Liz. She was only a few yards away. Dressed in nothing but a purple bikini—the bottom of it was skimpy and dipped down right to where her pubic hair must be—she was tanned and lovely, with golden hair that tumbled over her shoulders and around large breasts that hung heavily in a straining bikini top. She reached behind her as Ellie watched. Ellie gasped as she saw her unhook the top of her bikini.

“It's fine,” said Burt. “I seem to remember being here.”

“I wonder when,” said Liz. “I don't suppose you went swimming.”

She let the bikini top fall to the ground. Her breasts, lush and golden from the sun fell out, drooping in a nice curve, the nipples large and angry red in color. Burt was watching her, leaning against a boulder.

“Well?”

“I'm in no hurry,” he said. “We've got all afternoon.”

“You may not be in a hurry, but I am,” she said. “Take this off for me, I don't want to get my fingers sticky.”

Ellie gasped, thinking that she couldn't really be saying that; Liz was a nice girl, really very pleasant, whatever Cindy said. But in the next moment Burt actually went over to her, grabbed the fastener of the bikini, and pulled it loose. Then he pulled the bikini bottom down her legs to her feet.

She kicked it free. The curling blonde hair of her pubic region was wet and sloppy clear through, and even Ellie, as innocent as she was, knew the significance of this. Liz was in heat, like an animal, like a bitch; her vagina was inflamed, loaded with a sticky secretion that testified to her passion. Liz stood there for a moment letting Burt look her over. She brushed the golden hair out of her face, and Ellie could see the hungry look there, the parted lips, the color in her cheeks. She could see that Liz was breathing heavily as she stood there, legs parted, the pale hair of her pubes in sodden curls underneath a flushed and ready vagina.

Then Burt began to undress. He was wearing nothing but shorts and a tee-shirt, and when he took off the tee-shirt Ellie saw the mass of curly black hair on his chest. She turned away for a moment, trying not to look, but the temptation was irresistible. When she turned back she saw that Burt had slipped off the shorts, revealing a huge, hoselike cock, heavy and thick, with a bulge of black hair at its base. It was half tumid, but growing larger every moment, and Ellie groaned softly to herself as she saw it. She'd had dreams about such a penis, horrible dreams, threatening dreams in which she was attacked and split open by the monstrous thing, while feeling a terrible attraction to it, at the same time as she struggled to escape. And now to see this, out here in the open; to see Burt Conroy—he had been so pleasant to her, so kind!—undressing in front of a woman, casually, as if this were an every day occurrence.

He and Liz were both still standing there, looking at each other. Then Liz reached up and cupped her own breasts in her hands, in a languorous movement, very slow. Ellie could see Liz touching, her thumbs to the nipples, making them stiffen and rise. Her own breasts, hanging to the sand below her, responded; her nipples tightened and grew, at the same time as the squishy feeling in her thighs increased, until she became aware that the moisture was dripping down her leg. She squeezed her legs together, then parted them when the twinge of feeling in her vagina increased until she could scarcely stand it.

“Go down on me,” said Liz. She had a confident, even arrogant look on her face, a look that revealed how aware she was that her body was supremely lovely, perfect in its parts, flawless as a whole. She brought her hands down to her crotch and stroked the stiff curls of pubic hair between her legs while Ellie watched, breathless, and tried not to move.

But Burt held back. “You first,” he said.

Liz shrugged haughtily. “Not me. I've never gone down on a man in my life, and I don't intend to start now.”

He smiled and reached down to stroke his massive cock. The head flowered, spreading out, until it looked like a huge purple plum in the bright sunlight. Then, shrugging, he reached for his shorts. Ellie felt a profound sense of relief mingled with disappointment.

“What are you doing?” asked Liz tightly.

Burt began to pull his shorts on. He didn't answer.

“Come on, Burt. You know I'll fuck you.”

He still didn't say anything.

“Oh, shit,” she said finally. “If you're going to be that way I'll do it.”

He looked at her for a moment, calm and satisfied, then stripped off his shorts again.

“Over here.”

She came to him, her body golden and lovely in the sun, and Ellie saw the way the sun glinted on her mass of sodden pubic hair, where her sexual excitement was obvious.

“Get down,” said Burt.

Liz got down dutifully, eyeing his huge cock with obvious doubt in her mind. But when he swung it over near her, her gaze became fascinated, she couldn't stop watching the thing. When he let it touch her lips, she didn't draw back, but opened them slightly and looked startled as his heavy cock jammed forward suddenly into her mouth.

At once she was sucking greedily on it, uncontrollably excited, while feeling for her crotch and the warm lips of her cunt with both hands. Her fingers sank deep into them, into the soft, mushy patch of wet skin, while Ellie watched from her hiding place.

Ellie felt nauseous as she watched, but even so she let her hand touch her crotch, then settle in the full, swollen lips of her vagina, in the sticky secretions that had gathered there while she lay in the hot sun. She felt dreamy, abstracted, and didn't let herself think about what she was doing. The breeze was warm, flowing over her body, and in the mottled shadow of the sycamore she felt peaceful almost. Her breath quickened. At one and the same time she was indignant at Burt and Liz and wished that she was the girl who was doing this to Burt, that she could experience what Liz was experiencing.

But it was disgraceful, it really was. How people could let themselves behave like animals, in heat, was beyond her. She herself would never do such a thing. Never!

Burt groaned suddenly, and Ellie, hearing him, looked up in surprise. He had his eyes shut, his head lifted, and looked as if he was having a heart attack. Watching him, Ellie was frightened. It seemed to her obvious that he must be punished for what he was doing, that the two of them must somehow reap the rewards of their sin, but that retribution could come so swiftly! She whimpered, wanted to cry out. But then she saw that Burt was thrusting his hips forward, and Liz was sucking hard on his cock while something white and thick boiled out of his cock and out of her mouth in a copious flow. The sticky substance rolled out of the corners of Liz's mouth, down onto her naked breasts. Ellie, watching, wondering, was appalled and disgusted at the sight. It was sickening. She hadn't known about this, that men secreted something sticky like that, although far in her past—

She shut off the thought. Liz was sucking greedily at Burt's cock, sucking up the thick juice that boiled out of it. Lying there, Ellie closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to think about what she was seeing. But then she opened them again. Burt's thick cock was again half tumid as he stood above Liz. He was holding her thick, blonde hair in his hand and forcing her mouth farther over the head of his cock. Ellie could see that Liz was uncomfortable—could see her struggling, pushing away from him. But he ignored her discomfort—indeed, he increased it by wrenching at her hair, hard, until Liz revealed by the screwed-up expression on her face that the pain was intolerable. He seemed to be deliberately hurting her, doing everything in his power to make her feel pain, to respond to it. Then he let go. His cock, limp now, hung down toward the ground, wet from his jism and Liz's saliva.

Liz fell to the ground, gasping and choking. “You don't have to be so hard on me,” she said.

“You like it.”

“Not when you hurt me like that. Anyway, I want more than that. I want you to eat me out.”

“Sure,” said Burt. “Get over to the side of the pool.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I just want to make us comfortable.”

At the edge of the pool was a smooth boulder that he seated her on. He stepped into the water and came around to where she was perched precariously on the edge of the rock, with her legs apart. She was watching him thoughtfully. She had her breasts cupped in her hands and watched Burt with a hungry, eager look when he came close. He reached out and took one hand away from her breasts, then, with a sudden motion, pinched the nipple hard. Liz screamed.

“That hurt?”

“You know it did. Why'd you do it?”

“You like it, baby, that's why.”

“Oh God, you know what I like. Why won't you do it to me?”

He was directly in front of her now, his face inches away from her swollen vagina.

“Do it to-me, eat me out, I can't stand this anymore.”

“Sure, baby, I'll do anything you say.” He leaned over, laying his head in her lap. Ellie saw him moving slowly, casually, then suddenly stuffing his face deep into Liz's crotch. His head jerked upward in fitful, eager motions. It was as if he was out of control, as if in his eagerness he had gone into a kind of fit, as his head bucked up against her crotch, while Liz let herself sink backward until she was lying on the rock in the hot sun, spread-eagled, her legs wide and moist with sweat.

Ellie heard a kind of groaning sound, but couldn't have said who was making it. She found herself feeling giddy, as if on the verge of fainting. Her breasts were swollen, as if with milk; her vagina throbbed and squeezed down on itself, slippery and disgustingly liquid. Her hand was still down there. It was as if it had a life of its own, the way it kept moving inevitably toward her crotch, toward the liquid patch of stiff hair down there, toward the little passionate button that made her whole body shiver with ecstasy.

Liz shuddered suddenly. It was a tremendous movement; her entire body convulsed, the muscles flexing, out of her control. She doubled up, grabbing for Burt's head, yanking at his hair and ears, pulling his head against her crotch, against the slick, wet lips of her vagina. Her breath came in shuddering gasps. Burt was struggling angrily, trying to get away.

And then it was over. Liz, her muscles suddenly flaccid, let herself fall back onto the rock. Burt came away from her crotch, his face slick with her secretions. He was angry and short of breath. Liz was unaware of his anger, unaware of everything but the delectable twinges of intense feeling that were still going off like sparks in her vagina.

He grabbed her suddenly, taking hold of her ankles, and slung her into the pool. Shrieking, she went under, and he held her there for a moment. Coming up, she screamed, “You bastard, you bastard, I'll kill you for that, goddamn you!” She clawed at him, trying to get at his face.

He hit her once. She took the blow on her cheekbone and sagged, a stupid, doltish look on her face. Subsiding into the water, she was aware of nothing as Burt lifted her and carried her to the side of the pool, where he laid her down in the hot sand. She was only semi-conscious, lying on her belly. Ellie held her breath, thinking that Liz must be dead, that he must have killed her, that this was the way these things happened, these incidents that you read about in the papers, where a man beats and rapes a young woman, then stuffs her body in a shallow grave, or in some brush. Ellie felt chilly as she thought about what she was seeing.

But then she saw Liz move. Liz raised her head slightly, moaning, and tried to look back to where Burt was doing something to her, something that Ellie couldn't make out. Burt's cock was again tumid and heavy, pointing upward at an angle, and he was dipping it briefly into Liz's crotch, soaking the massive head in the sticky secretions there. Ellie could see everything from where she was. She found that her hand had made its way to her vagina again, where it stroked her clitoris gently, causing little ripples of feeling to flow through her crotch.

Then she saw what Burt was doing. He had his massive cock in his hand and was shoving it up against Liz's anus, very gently, just shoving the head across the surface. Gradually he shoved harder, with a twisting motion. His face was grim and determined. The head of his cock, as he shoved on it, would slip sideways, missing the hole, or, half in, would be diverted and spring out again. But Burt refused to quit trying, and Liz, groggy from the blow on her cheekbone, was in no condition to prevent him from doing whatever he liked.

Suddenly it went in. Ellie could see the look of release on his face, the sudden, thrusting movement of his hips. She watched as Burt, squinting in the bright sun, shoved his cock farther and farther in, until finally his belly was flat up against Liz's buttocks and his cock was thrust all the way in.

Eventually he settled down into a steady, silky rhythm of thrusting and pulling back, while Liz, still groggy, tried to figure out what was happening to her.

“Stop—”

“Cool it, baby. This is the way I want it.”

“Oh, God, it hurts—it hurts!”

Burt ignored her. His face was set in a grim, angry expression as he made a sudden, vicious thrust deep into Liz. Ellie saw her wince. Liz had her hands clasped together and was digging her fingernails into her skin, sobbing. The tears rolled down her cheeks. Then Burt came. With a sudden jerking movement he dumped a thick load of jism deep into Liz. His jaw fell; his face had a doltish, gleeful look to it for a moment as the jism poured out of him and into Liz. He let himself subside, lying on top of Liz.

“Get up, please get up! It hurts. I can't breathe.”

Burt lay there on top of her, heavy and motionless. He deliberately made her bear his entire weight, listening to her labored breathing, obviously enjoying her discomfort.

“Please get up, I can't breathe.”

Slowly, taking his time, he lifted himself off her. His thick cock, half limp, seemed attached to her. When he jerked back suddenly, ripping it loose, Liz shrieked with pain. The jism spurted out of his cock, whether left over from his last climax or from a new one was unclear. He let his cock flop down onto her buttocks. Liz was sobbing quietly, lying there on the warm rock in the sun. Ellie could see the tears streaking her face. She felt terribly sorry for Liz, terribly indignant toward Burt. If this was sex, then she wanted nothing of it, even when she was married. She had had enough sex in her young life. She remembered a scene like this, remembered—

But she put the thought away. Burt was milking his thick cock, stripping the heavy strands of thick jism out of it onto Liz. It was as if he was intensely excited by the sight of her in pain, as if stripping down his jism onto her bare skin thrilled him. He seemed to get an intense enjoyment out of hurting her, out of soiling her. And Liz, as much as she protested, did not make any real attempt to get away.

Now Burt had lain down, gasping, in the shallow end of the pool, while Liz got up, quite matter of factly, and walked to the upper end of the pool, evidently meaning to wash off. She didn't get that far.

Ellie, laying in the shadow of the sycamore tree, saw her glance toward the tree suddenly, her eye caught on the bright color of Ellie's bathing suit, which lay next to her.

“Burt! Burt, you motherfucker!” Liz swore.

Ellie jumped up, tried to hide behind the tree, clutching the bathing suit to her.

“Burt, you set this up, you set this up, you motherfucker,” Liz was screaming.

“What the hell—?” He got up out of the pool and came over. Ellie circled around the tree, away from him.

“You arranged this, you goddamn pervert!” Liz screamed. She threw herself at Burt, who, staggered, put up his arms to defend himself.

“What the hell's going on!'

“You set it up, just to get your kicks out of having somebody watch!”

“Please!” Ellie peeped out around the tree. “Please, it wasn't anybody's fault, I just happened to be here, I didn't mean to bother you.”

“You bitch!” Liz screamed. Now she let go of Burt, who stumbled backward and fell heavily into the pool. He lay there for a moment, feeling his back, evidently in pain, a disgruntled expression on his face, an expression that gradually turned gleeful as he saw that Liz was running after Ellie.

“Please, leave, me alone, I didn't do anything, I didn't mean anything!”

“You bitch!” Liz screamed. “You fucking bitch! I'm going to tear your eyes out!”

Her golden, satin-smooth breasts flopped back and forth as she ran after Ellie. Liz was sweating and puffing as she ran around the tree, then followed Ellie up the creek. Ellie was faster, but Liz showed a kind of fanatical determination that scared Ellie and made her feel weak and faint. She didn't think she could keep away.

Burt had forgotten his pains and was running after them. His cock was tumid now, a giant, clumsy staff growing out of his crotch and swaying heavily back and forth as he ran.

“I didn't do anything, I didn't!” Ellie was sobbing as she ran. She was out of breath and scared; Liz was so fanatical, so angry.

“Ill kill you, I'll—!”

Liz caught up with her where the stream came around a steep cliff. Leaping on her, she began to snatch at her eyes with her fingers, then, when Ellie protected herself, she beat at Ellie with her fists.

Burt came running up, but, instead of tying to separate the two of them, he stood very close, growing excited, and cheered them on. Up until now, Ellie had been content just to defend herself—had not even tried to fight back. But now Liz tried to get to her genitals, to pinch them, gouge them, damage them somehow. She grabbed Elbe's fluffy pubic hair and tugged at it, making Ellie scream, while Burt, goggle-eyed, stared and jerked spasmodically at his long cock, making the jism dribble from it, trying to get it onto the girls. Ellie, beside herself with pain, began to fight back, thinking that it was all over now, for how could one be forgiven for such a scene, for such passions?

Liz remained latched onto Ellie's pubic hair; tufts of it came out. Bringing up her knee suddenly, Ellie knocked the wind out of her antagonist, caused her to let go for a moment. Then she began to strike out at her, to flail away at her. Younger, more energetic than Liz, she was able to hold her off. But even so the fight might have gone on for a long time, as determined as Liz was, if it hadn't been for Burt's interference.

Tugging at his heavy cock, Burt suddenly shot out a stream of coiling jism all over the two girls. The stuff flopped through the air in heavy clots, slopping over Ellie's face, hair, and breasts, while Burt hunched over her and aimed directly at her, ignoring Liz even though he wet her down thoroughly too.

Liz stopped fighting. She looked up, a hungry look in her eyes. Moaning, forgetting Ellie for the moment, she-leaned toward Burt and put her mouth to his cock,, sucking up the thick, sweet jism. Burt hunched over, grabbing her by the head and shoving her mouth farther over his cock. Both of them forgot Ellie.

Ellie ran. She raced upstream, away from the two of them; ran while feeling the presence of the white, sticky substance that Burt had spurted onto her; ran while her heart pounded and her breath grew short and she became aware of the scratches on her body, the fingernail marks across her white breasts. She ran and thought about how she was being punished for her brief sojourn in the sun by the side of the pool, where she had let herself think sinful thoughts, where her thoughts had manifested themselves by a visible display of lust between her legs, in the form of that sticky, clear substance that was secreted there.

Far up the creek she stopped running and hid under another tree, waiting, her breath coming in convulsive sobs. But no one came. It was quiet there, peaceful. There were only birds and insects around. A stellar jay, flaunting its crest, screeched at her; a grasshopper whirred in the dry, hot air. She became aware of a stickiness on her face, then looked down to see that her breasts were slick with the clotted muck that Burt had spewed out onto her. Horrified, she ran to the stream, neglecting to stay hidden in favor of washing herself.

There was a deep pool nearby, its waters green and cool. Ellie leaped into it, letting herself sink to the bottom, where she held her breath—if only she could just die right here at the bottom of the pool!—until finally, gasping, she broke the surface. She scrubbed for a long time at her face and hair, rubbing them with sand, washing herself until her skin was raw and painful. Then she ducked under the water again. She felt shattered.

Another girl, in similar circumstances, might have been mostly hurt, or angry, or both. But Ellie having been raised to believe that she was evil, that evil lurked about her, waiting for its chance, was mostly horrified. She blamed herself for the incident, in some way believing that she had brought it about, had put herself in the path of Burt and Liz through some subtle, perhaps unconscious desire to abase herself, to revel in the sexual experience that had always been forbidden her by her parents and relatives. Isolated from her contemporaries, insecure in her relations with them, she was in the habit of believing that they—in their self-assurance, their smooth confidence—were right in what they were doing, whereas she was invariably wrong.

She lay by the side of the pool, exhausted. Anyone coming upon her would have been astonished at her. Her body was firm and unflawed; the proportions were perfect. Full, firm breasts, rounded neatly out to plump nipples, were humped over her as she lay on her back. They were white, alabaster white, virgin white, for Ellie had never sunbathed except in her modest one-piece bathing suit; she would have been horrified at the thought of doing so, at least until today. And now she saw how swift her punishment had been, how quickly she had been forced to regret lying there in the sun, legs spread, feeling the heat of the sun, smelling the fragrance of the woods.

She looked down at her body. There were drops of water beading on her lovely breasts, and on her flat, white belly. A line was sharply drawn around the area covered by her bathing suit. There the skin was golden from the sun; here it was white and perfectly clear. But to Ellie her body was gauche and awkward, the body of a child. She wasn't even aware that everyone watched her when she walked through the camp, the women with jealousy, the men with desire.

She lay there for a long time by the side of the pool, no longer even crying, just waiting until she could go back down the stream bed to Fall Creek and then back to the camp. When she finally walked back to the hole where she had been found by Burt and Liz, they were gone. Ellie's bathing suit lay...

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