Return to Avondale

Pamela and Donna had never seen nipple-screws, but they had heard of them. They were ancient devices, born in the medieval period, for the ultimate hurt of female nipples. It was assumed that there were few left in existence, but it would be correct to guess that there were still a few about. They watched spellbound as Ravan and her partner at bridge applied the punishment of "pen- alty bridge."

The devices were iron clamps which were tight- ened by a small strew-head. At first there was no reaction from the two losers at bridge, then sud- denly their heads fell backwards and their nostrils flared. There were no cries of pain, or loud moans, but there were whispered "ohhhhs." When the nipple flesh began to protrude through the hollow opening of the circular metal, the women whisked their hair from side to side. Yet still the two winners turned the screws. The tortured nipples squeezed out of the clamps like wet clay, fully an inch long now. Ravan and her partner still turned the screws with no particular expression on their faces, small droplets of blood now oozing from under the metal. The two women thrashed in their chairs and now their throats gave forth with the howl of an animal.

"We'll have tea now, girls," said Ravan to

Pamela and Donna. "You'll have to serve it to their mouths, I'm afraid. They do have to stay like this for an hour."

Pamela and Donna were in a state of utter numb- ness, their sex shamefully wet, but somehow they got themselves moving again. They brought back the tea with Kiki happily trodding beside them.

The moppet had no reaction at all to the tortured nipples she saw.

"Oh, good! You've won at bridge again, mother!

You're ever such a good player."

"Thank you, Kiki. By the way, Pamela and

Donna are done serving now. I think it would be nice if they took you up to their room and taught you a few things. You're getting old enough now to begin understanding things. You'll find them ex- cellent teachers. Girls, take Kiki upstairs. She's yours for the night. Anything goes, of course, but do your hurting things before twelve please. I'm a light sleeper and I don't want to hear her yelling after I go to bed. You'll find all the things you might need in the top bureau drawer. Kiki, be a good girl now."

Pamela and Donna looked at each other. Pamela said, "Geez."

Pamela and Donna led Kiki by the hand to the bedroom, and explored the miscellaneous items in the bureau drawer. The ceiling had hooks, as did most of Ravan's rooms.

"Well, snippet," said Pamela, "the first thing we better do with you is teach you that you're a girl rather than an it. Strip, 'cept for your pants."

"Ho hum," said Kiki, and peeled off her clothes.

Kiki was hung like a turkey from the ceiling hook by her thumbs, and the two sat down to watch her squirming antics.

"Never knew girls were hung by their thumbs," said Kiki. "Hey, I've been up here for a few min- utes now, 'bout time for this game to end, isn't it?"

"You see!" said Donna. "A real girl can hang by her thumbs all night without fussing. You're just an it. Let's see, Pamela, I think the nipple screws might not work. She just hasn't got much nipple to work with. Those clothespins might do fine, though."

The springy clothespins stuck out like beacons on Kiki's dainty breast tips.

"Whoops," piped Kiki, "makes me know I've got nipples, doesn't it! Very clever."

"Perhaps just two across her back with the whip," said Donna.

Pamela swung and the whip made a delightful crack across the slim back. A pink streak appeared on a long diagonal direction.

"Ow," said Kiki. "Rather uncomfortable." . The second lash crossed the first making a per- fect X on her bare back. Kiki swung her face from side to side in pain.

"Only eighteen to go, muffin," teased Pamela.

"Real girls can take twenty without much fuss."

Kiki pondered.

"Oh, okay, you win. Guess I'm not a girl after all, just an it. Don't really think I can take any more of a whip. Darn it, growing up is so slow.

Teach me to be a girl. I surrender."

Kiki was released and her clothespins removed.

"On the bed, kitty-cat," said Pamela, "and take those silly little panties off! Souvenir of Majorca, of all things! Girl games are played bare butt, y'know."

Kiki flung her pants across the room, trying to hit the chair, but missed. Pamela and Donna bounced onto the bed beside Kiki and spread her legs.

"Well. What.now?" chirped Kiki. "All I can see is a bunch of nipples and pussies everywhere I look. What's so great about that'?"

Pamela bent to her task.

"Hey," squeaked Kiki, "what the heck are you doing, Pamela, stop licking me down there, that

'doesn't do much for me, girls aren't supposed to lick like kittens, this is so silly, how can girls make love, they don't have a 'thing' to stick into a girl like boys do and what's your tongue supposed to do, turn me on or something, Donna, slop sucking on my nipples, Pamela, don't lick so hard down