Chapter One

 

My name's Barney. And I've got a couple of rules that I live by. One is that pain is the price of pleasure. The second is that a whiplash works two ways.

Without doubt life, when it's lived fully, is a stinging sensation. This is how I've always felt. I won't describe her except to say that she was tall. She was beauty personified, if you know what I mean. She had long hair. She always wore spiked high heels. She had a soft tummy. She had dainty feet. She had long fingernails.

Her name is Lynn. Maybe you wanted to know her name?

She was a torture chamber all bundled up in charm. She was like a hornet's nest when she wasn't cuddly. She was cold as a fish when she slept, that's why sleeping with Lynn was a bore. So much for the description!

Lynn is a mean one! But when she flashes you that smile, you'd never guess just how mean she could be. She had a voice, petal soft, seductive, tender, and then she has another voice which is cruel, vicious, edged with acid.

And her father made her the way she is. He's totally responsible, and that's all there is to that!

I'll tell you about it. May as well. You'll find out eventually.

He raised her on a houseboat out at Yacht Cove. The mother took off. She flew the coop! For good reason! The old man, his name's Archie, used her only to spawn the kid. And that's all he needed her for. Sure, she did a little washing and cleaning up and like taking care of Lynn when she was toddling, but that's about it. Little more she did.

And Archie began to spank her when she was just over her sixteenth birthday. He'd been planning the day when he'd give it to her. He would jerk off his cock waiting for the day. He would stroke his long, fat cock and scratch his balls and wait for the day. It had to come, and it did.

Archie lived with a lot of phantoms. Demons, actually! They swam around the tied-up house-boat. They came down at night. They lived in the marshes and whispered at night, fierce whispering which wouldn't let the man sleep.

And he knew these voices, the voice of the turtle, if you wish, was speaking to his young, lovely daughter.

He heard her answering back one night. This was his signal. He rushed toward her room. This was in the stern of the houseboat, ninety feet exactly from the old man's cabin forward. In his haste, Archie almost tumbled over the side, but he caught himself and made it safely aft.

And there he saw it. He not only heard it, listened to the voice speaking, but he saw the speaker, he saw the demon, finally.

He kneeled down on the deck of the old houseboat and watched! The porthole framed a magnificent view.

Lynn was stark naked! The intruder had tied her tight to one of the centre stanchions, a slim, lean but very strong pole in the centre of the cabin. Her ankles were bound. Her wrists were tied in back of the pole. She was gagged, her own panties stuffed down inside her mouth and a leather belt making certain she couldn't spit out her panties. Her eyes were closed, Archie saw. He couldn't believe what he was looking at! He couldn't believe it!

But he decided to enjoy it! He took out his cock and fondled it, leering into the porthole. He could see that Lynn was terrified and he wondered. How did Mack get her into the position? Mack owned the little store up at the clearing, the place where the boatmen and others did their emergency shopping.

And Archie envied old Mack. He didn't know him well enough to hate him ... that is, until maybe now ... but he always envied him.

Mack was a bruiser! Tall and stony hard, strong and wiry. In the quiet light of Lynn's cabin, Mack was nude. His brawny muscles gleamed as he circled around and around. His eyes tugged at Lynn's young, virgin pussy, her cunt hairs soft and messy, her pussy lips still new, her young breasts firm and proud, her nipples a blushing pink.

Lynn was speechless as Mack plumbed his thumb into her tender belly button, running his thumb nail down towards her soft snatch.

Her eyes opened and closed spasmodically.

When Mack circled around in back of her and began to pinch and squeeze her pink buttocks, Lynn sighed. From Archie's point of view, she seemed to be enjoying the scene. Archie saw her grin when Mack used the tip of his dirty finger to toy with her tight asshole. He saw her flinch when Mack slapped her bottom, his open palm flailing her tender buttocks, his palm hitting hard, whipping and then petting, alternating as Lynn strained and Archie could see her trying to think how to get out of the bonds.

Mack's prick was monster-hard now. He began to whip her belly with it, aiming it at her belly button, then weaving frantically from side to side, his cock in his hand, whipping it at her thighs, wishing he had something to stand up on so he could smash at her young tender breasts with his strong prick.

Lynn was whimpering now. Her eyes remained closed. Her toes were wiggling as she balanced back against the cold pole.

Mack bent his head and closed his teeth over her left nipple. Then he bit it and Lynn screamed! Her young body was writhing and her pelvis thrusting out as Mack chewed on her breast, his tongue lashing and swishing over her soft, tender flesh.

Then he kneeled again and began to nip at her thighs. There was no escape for his daughter, Archie saw as he now stood, his feet astride, his eyes glued to the porthole.

When Mack began to kiss her pussy, Archie's prick grew longer. He was whacking his cock now, his fingers curled around his thick staff, his fingers milking his cock as he looked at the back of Mack's head as Mack's tongue dipped up into his young daughter's wet cunt.

Lynn, oh, that pretty, sweet, young girl, she was weaving and rocking her body as Mack's tongue ploughed up into her pink pussy, laving it, his tongue and lips sucking her juices, his tongue stabbing deep up inside her virgin cunt, his vicious teeth chewing her fleshy clitoris.

Then Mack began to whip her body. He used a coil of rope, bending it out, and flailing her as she winced and cringed, unable to protect her soft breasts, unable to use her hands to cover her beautiful pussy, unable to even protect her armpits as Mack wielded the rope which was biting into her flesh.

Archie was astonished! Why didn't Lynn call out? What was the matter with her? Didn't she realize that her father was in calling distance? Didn't she realize that?

Obviously not!

Or she didn't want it. She liked what was happening to her. She was only sixteen years old. And she liked this kind of flagellation. She liked what old Mack was doing to her, calling her honey and darling while he used the rope all over her body, the thongs cutting into her buttocks, crisscrossing her breasts and her face and her pussy and her legs, whipping and bruising her flesh as she undulated on the pole, She wanted his tongue back up into her pussy.

And Mack knew what he was doing. That was for sure. Archie stared with disbelief. His young daughter, his very own prize, hung up on the pole, unable to escape and his very own friend, Mack the storekeeper, whipping and teasing her body with the whip and his tongue and prick.

Mack took a breather. He sat down in front of Lynn and lit a cigar. Then he got up and got a beer and returned to sit in front of her. Lynn opened her eyes, staring down at his hot prick which Mack was stroking as he looked up into her pussy, his eyes directing Lynn, telling her to spread her thighs apart - and she did.

Archie could see that she loved it! She loved all of it! She was a brazen slut, that was all! That was that!

And only sixteen years old. Mack stood up and poured the can of beer down over her head. He glanced around to see if he was safe. He felt his danger, but he didn't know where it was. He knew that he was being watched, but he didn't know who was the watcher.

Archie bided his time.

Mack took the rope again. He began to switch it across her breasts, aiming at her erect nipples, whipping and thonging her titties, then down to her belly and then back up to the inside of her white thighs, and then back up to her neck and on her shoulders, whipping and thonging her body and alternately licking her nipples.

This was what Lynn liked, Archie could tell. She liked everything, writhing and seducing, and lowering her head and then fluttering her eyes as Mack would stand up in front of her and rub his cock over her bleating pussy.

Lynn wanted to touch his cock. She wanted to hold it and feel it. She wanted to kiss it. She wished that Mack hadn't tied her up. Why did he want her tied up all the time? Why did he come onto the houseboat when her father wasn't around and why did he always have his fly open?

Mack held his cock again in his palm. He leaned forward and kissed her gagged mouth. He raised up the belt so he could tongue her mouth.

Then he went again in back of her. He rubbed his cock between her young buttocks, the head of his prick leaking. He kissed down her back; he ran his tongue down to her asshole and teased her. Then he took the rope and began to work on her back, lashing it, then trailing the rope up and down, again teasing her, making Lynn shiver when the rope glazed over her buttocks, when the rope went between her thighs and when the rope ripped across her open cunt.