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Who Will Join Me This Time?

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We finally reach the whipping posts that are located in the town square. A bloody post is waiting for each of us. At each post is one of the executioner's henchmen waiting to do the honors. They are all big burly muscular men, except there is one big muscular woman waiting at one of the posts. I am dearly hoping she is for me. I have no desire to be man handled by these brutes.

First the fat slave girl is lead to her post. The burly brute, who is going to whip her, fastens her hands in the collar at the top of the post. He decides to have some fun, and grabs a handful of her large glutes, and tell her how he is going to enjoy blooding them up.
Next Barbaria is lead to her pole, and after the henchman has fastened her hands to the collar, grabs her heaving breasts, and slips a finger into her pussy, and smiles. Yes, he is going to enjoy whipping this beauty.
Messaline and Eulalia are next to be fastened to the whipping poles. The burly henchmen, who are assigned to whip them, decide to violate them. The large crowd that has gathered, roars their approval.

Next I am lead to my waiting whipping pole, by none other than the big muscular woman.
So I was right, she was for me. After fastening my hands to the collar, she laughs at my rock hard penis. She says that my hard-on must be broken, and she reaches for what looks like a billy club, and smacks by swollen member with one swift swing. I am now in intense pain, and my penis has become soft.

I believe the worst is about to begin for us...........
 
Hondoboot2 said:
We finally reach the whipping posts that are located in the town square. A bloody post is waiting for each of us. At each post is one of the executioner's henchmen waiting to do the honors. They are all big burly muscular men, except there is one big muscular woman waiting at one of the posts. I am dearly hoping she is for me. I have no desire to be man handled by these brutes.

First the fat slave girl is lead to her post. The burly brute, who is going to whip her, fastens her hands in the collar at the top of the post. He decides to have some fun, and grabs a handful of her large glutes, and tell her how he is going to enjoy blooding them up.
Next Barbaria is lead to her pole, and after the henchman has fastened her hands to the collar, grabs her heaving breasts, and slips a finger into her pussy, and smiles. Yes, he is going to enjoy whipping this beauty.
Messaline and Eulalia are next to be fastened to the whipping poles. The burly henchmen, who are assigned to whip them, decide to violate them. The large crowd that has gathered, roars their approval.

Next I am lead to my waiting whipping pole, by none other than the big muscular woman.
So I was right, she was for me. After fastening my hands to the collar, she laughs at my rock hard penis. She says that my hard-on must be broken, and she reaches for what looks like a billy club, and smacks by swollen member with one swift swing. I am now in intense pain, and my penis has become soft.

I believe the worst is about to begin for us...........
Click to expand...

The billy club thing :eek: ... in some ways, seems like the worst already happened to you :rolleyes:
 
The wood is rough and coarse against my naked skin. For a moment I worry about getting splinters, before remembering there'll be far more pain for me to worry about than a couple of tiny bits of wood stuck in my tits or belly.

A hard slap across my branded bottom told me I was prepared to the guard's satisfaction. My arms were stretched painfully above me, my toes only just touching the ground. Thick thongs had been tied around my ankles and knees either side of the stake, which forced my freshly-shaved cunt to rub against the wood. This wasn't just practical - the guards know I can't control myself under the whip, and want to make me cum right here, in front of the whole town.

I look across the line and see all the others secured in the same way. Hondoboot is making the most of his desperate situation, rubbing his massive erection against the stake, not caring anymore about the shame of wanking in public. He'll only get whipped harder, of course.

Most of us went to meet our fate with what dignity we had left, Eulalia even seemed to be relishing her journey to agony. Only the little blonde one at the end put up a fight, the one who'd already been worked over when she was thrown in the dungeon. It took two guards to subdue and bind her, but they managed it eventually. A hard punch to the gut, then a knee into her crotch disabled her long enough for them to truss her up.

I catch Barb's eye and smile weakly at her. She returns the smile, always so brave in the face of suffering. A loud crack behind us shocks all of us into twisting as far as we can. The Executioner is ready. Another theatrical practice flick brings a roar from the crowd. Now it's time for his whip to feast on its favourite dish - human flesh...
 
fat slave girl said:
The wood is rough and coarse against my naked skin. For a moment I worry about getting splinters, before remembering there'll be far more pain for me to worry about than a couple of tiny bits of wood stuck in my tits or belly.

A hard slap across my branded bottom told me I was prepared to the guard's satisfaction. My arms were stretched painfully above me, my toes only just touching the ground. Thick thongs had been tied around my ankles and knees either side of the stake, which forced my freshly-shaved cunt to rub against the wood. This wasn't just practical - the guards know I can't control myself under the whip, and want to make me cum right here, in front of the whole town.

I look across the line and see all the others secured in the same way. Hondoboot is making the most of his desperate situation, rubbing his massive erection against the stake, not caring anymore about the shame of wanking in public. He'll only get whipped harder, of course.

Most of us went to meet our fate with what dignity we had left, Eulalia even seemed to be relishing her journey to agony. Only the little blonde one at the end put up a fight, the one who'd already been worked over when she was thrown in the dungeon. It took two guards to subdue and bind her, but they managed it eventually. A hard punch to the gut, then a knee into her crotch disabled her long enough for them to truss her up.

I catch Barb's eye and smile weakly at her. She returns the smile, always so brave in the face of suffering. A loud crack behind us shocks all of us into twisting as far as we can. The Executioner is ready. Another theatrical practice flick brings a roar from the crowd. Now it's time for his whip to feast on its favourite dish - human flesh...
Click to expand...

After hiding in the shadows avoiding capture myself, I feel all attention is on the condemned. I slowly move through the crowd and take my place directly in front of FSG staring at her nakedness. Her breasts scraping the wood and her glistening cunny as she gets more aroused. I so want to lick her as she is lashed. I know what fate awaits her and so want to give her one more release before she meets the cross. My own cunny starting to moisten as I lick my lips.

Sheila
 
cpl4pain said:
After hiding in the shadows avoiding capture myself, I feel all attention is on the condemned. I slowly move through the crowd and take my place directly in front of FSG staring at her nakedness. Her breasts scraping the wood and her glistening cunny as she gets more aroused. I so want to lick her as she is lashed. I know what fate awaits her and so want to give her one more release before she meets the cross. My own cunny starting to moisten as I lick my lips.

Sheila
Click to expand...

Stretched against my post, arms over head and locked in the iron cuffs dangling from the top, I watch in fascination as this newcomer, steps forward from the crowd and plants herself in front of the fat girl, and begins to lick her. The crowd, aroused by the loud crack of the practice whip snaps, and the sight of the fat girl being licked, begins to chant, calling for the whippings to begin. I brace myself against my post, trying unsuccessfully to press and protect my breasts against its surface from the lashes to come.
 
I'm scared of course, really scared - that's why my legs are shaking, that's why I'm desperate to pee...
but there's no point in putting up a fight, the French girl's only making things worse for herself -
even the fine brunette beside me is co-operating now. We girls know...

There's laughter as the stake creaks when the fat girl's chained up,
louder laughs - and a horrific shriek - when they do something to the one boy in our little band,
I can't see what, but I can guess...

anyway, stretch my arms up - "Sorry, Sir," I say instinctively, when my shaky wrist slips briefly out of my Guard's grip,
he spits with a curse, the gob splatters on my cheek, dribbles down over my lip...

the big iron ring's so high, meant for a tall man, even with chains on my manacles as long as my forearms
I'm going to stand on tiptoe, or swing freely -
the metal bracelets are already biting cruelly, he screwed them on till my bones crunched.

I'm ready, breasts warm against the wood, the scent of oak imbued with sweat and blood fills my nostrils,
I even taste it in my mouth, I rest my forehead against its hardness, my eyes close to a deep russet stain - blood, I know...

Suddenly, my burly Guard seizes me, my body's crushed against the stake, my face flattened on it -
he's clutching at my breasts with his foul, jagged fingernails, his teeth are gnawing on the sore ring left by the iron collar,
as I squeal I sense his hard cock driving up, forcing through my soft fleshy folds -
my bare legs kick helplessly, rubbing my thighs against the rough edge of the stake -
I'm sobbing, squirming, but it's useless to struggle,
I let myself go soft and malleable, like a sack of wool,
dangling in my chains, and whisper "S-sir, take me sir - please - no need to hurt me Sir, please...'
My body lifts and sinks in time to his fierce thrusting,
his nails dig into the soft flesh of my breasts, his teeth torment my neck,
the gang of crooks and whores who are watching urge him on, clapping and chanting to the same rhythm,
"Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her!"
His weapon has invaded, conquered me, I feel it explore its newly-captured realm -
suddenly a strange thrill of horror mixed with ecstatic pleasure surges through my nakedness,
I let out a wild cry that seems to echo not just from the houses round the square but from heaven itself,
I'm boiling as his juices erupt to meet mine,
I'm gasping, licking, even biting the wood of the stake,
as he slowly withdraws, pauses for a second, then kicks my leg and spits on my back.
"Thankyou, Sir," I croak...

The whole place has suddenly gone quiet,
I can only hear my heart pounding like a drum-call to battle -
"Crack!"
my body leaps, instinct provoked by the very sound,
"Oh God, if I must be tested, give me strength..."
I mouth, and kiss the harsh wood holding me
as if it were some holy relic...
 
Eulalia said:
I'm scared of course, really scared - that's why my legs are shaking, that's why I'm desperate to pee...
but there's no point in putting up a fight, the French girl's only making things worse for herself -
even the fine brunette beside me is co-operating now. We girls know...

There's laughter as the stake creaks when the fat girl's chained up,
louder laughs - and a horrific shriek - when they do something to the one boy in our little band,
I can't see what, but I can guess...

anyway, stretch my arms up - "Sorry, Sir," I say instinctively, when my shaky wrist slips briefly out of my Guard's grip,
he spits with a curse, the gob splatters on my cheek, dribbles down over my lip...

the big iron ring's so high, meant for a tall man, even with chains on my manacles as long as my forearms
I'm going to stand on tiptoe, or swing freely -
the metal bracelets are already biting cruelly, he screwed them on till my bones crunched.

I'm ready, breasts warm against the wood, the scent of oak imbued with sweat and blood fills my nostrils,
I even taste it in my mouth, I rest my forehead against its hardness, my eyes close to a deep russet stain - blood, I know...

Suddenly, my burly Guard seizes me, my body's crushed against the stake, my face flattened on it -
he's clutching at my breasts with his foul, jagged fingernails, his teeth are gnawing on the sore ring left by the iron collar,
as I squeal I sense his hard cock driving up, forcing through my soft fleshy folds -
my bare legs kick helplessly, rubbing my thighs against the rough edge of the stake -
I'm sobbing, squirming, but it's useless to struggle,
I let myself go soft and malleable, like a sack of wool,
dangling in my chains, and whisper "S-sir, take me sir - please - no need to hurt me Sir, please...'
My body lifts and sinks in time to his fierce thrusting,
his nails dig into the soft flesh of my breasts, his teeth torment my neck,
the gang of crooks and whores who are watching urge him on, clapping and chanting to the same rhythm,
"Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her!"
His weapon has invaded, conquered me, I feel it explore its newly-captured realm -
suddenly a strange thrill of horror mixed with ecstatic pleasure surges through my nakedness,
I let out a wild cry that seems to echo not just from the houses round the square but from heaven itself,
I'm boiling as his juices erupt to meet mine,
I'm gasping, licking, even biting the wood of the stake,
as he slowly withdraws, pauses for a second, then kicks my leg and spits on my back.
"Thankyou, Sir," I croak...

The whole place has suddenly gone quiet,
I can only hear my heart pounding like a drum-call to battle -
"Crack!"
my body leaps, instinct provoked by the very sound,
"Oh God, if I must be tested, give me strength..."
I mouth, and kiss the harsh wood holding me
as if it were some holy relic...
Click to expand...
soon it will be my turn keep strong
 
I should be furious. Who the fuck does this bitch think she is, that she can just walk up to me and start licking my cunt without asking? But I've long since given up any idea of ownership of my own body. It belongs to whoever wants it, to use and abuse for their amusement.

Besides, I've just seen two of my fellow prisoners being raped, one being punched and kicked and the fourth having his cock whacked with a heavy club. At least I'm not going to get filled with some ugly fucker's cum and having your genitals licked has to be better than having them kicked or thumped.

And she's good, fucking good. As the excitement rises in my gut, I look down at her. She's gorgeous, too. The only problem is her clothes. As in, she's wearing them. As she drives her tongue in deep, hitting my clit, I'm overwhelmed with the thought that I really, really, really, want to see this girl stark naked. Wickedly, I wish for the guards to seize her, once she's finished me, of course, strip her and bind her to a post alongside us.

And that's the image which fills my mind as my legs turn to jelly, and my delicious orgasm overwhelms me...
 
I hang helplessly, the iron cuffs chafing the skin on my wrists and drawing blood. My companion to my left (the fat girl) and to my right (the one from the distant north) are being sexually humiliated, but seem to be enjoying it. I begin to envy them. I feel so aroused, and as my hard erect nipples keep brushing against the rough surface of the post, I find it stimulating and exciting. I don't want to, but I feel it welling up inside me. I must have release. I move my feet forward and straddle the post, pressing my sex hard against it and moving my hips. The crowd has noticed and have begun to mock me. "Look at the brown-haired one....she is so turned on by the fat girl being licked and eaten and by the one on the other side of her being raped, that she is starting to fuck her post." A woman's voice shrieks over the din. "Whip them, Make them suffer and bleed....let's get on with it!" The crowd joins in, and begins to chant. "Whip them, whip them, whip them!"
 
"Aaaaaaghh!" A line of fire scorches diagonally across my back, from right shoulder to left buttock. The first stroke of the bullwhip has landed, and the flogging has begun. I barely have time to draw breath before the second lands, a few inches below the first.

I can feel blood trickling down my back, down my legs, over my bum. This is bad. This is agonizing. This is getting a great reaction from the crowd. They cheer and whoop at every stroke. The executioner is strong, accurate, and totally ruthless.

Just as I think I'm about to pass out, he stops. I think I've had a dozen, although maths is difficult for me right now. I know this is just a temporary reprieve, that he'll be back for more. But for now, it's time to move along the line. It's Barb's turn. My heart sinks for her...
 
i have just been dragged to where you,are i tried to escape but got caught just spent couple hours with the guards being knocked about and beaten i think i probaly get savage flogging as well keep strong
fat slave girl said:
"Aaaaaaghh!" A line of fire scorches diagonally across my back, from right shoulder to left buttock. The first stroke of the bullwhip has landed, and the flogging has begun. I barely have time to draw breath before the second lands, a few inches below the first.

I can feel blood trickling down my back, down my legs, over my bum. This is bad. This is agonizing. This is getting a great reaction from the crowd. They cheer and whoop at every stroke. The executioner is strong, accurate, and totally ruthless.

Just as I think I'm about to pass out, he stops. I think I've had a dozen, although maths is difficult for me right now. I know this is just a temporary reprieve, that he'll be back for more. But for now, it's time to move along the line. It's Barb's turn. My heart sinks for her...
Click to expand...
 
The fat girl has suffered so.....I recoil at the sight of her blood-streaked backside and at the viciousness of the crowd.

But now it is my turn. The executioner can sense my terror, and he plays to the crowd. He comes up behind me, jerks my head back by the hair and hisses menacingly in my face .... "my whip is hungers for a bite of your naked flesh." I shiver and wretch in revulsion at the putrid stench of his breath in my face. He caresses my bare back with the handle of his whip, tracing my backbone down to the small of my back, pausing and then following the crack between my ass cheeks until the handle slides under and presses up tight against my crotch, working its way in between my labia. He pulls it out swiftly and I jump and squeal involuntarily.

The crowd erupts in hoots and whistles. Turning my head, I watch as he bows theatrically to the crowd and retreats to his position behind me and slightly to one side. His muscles ripple as he flexes his whipping arm and a little flip runs the length of the long whip laid out along the pavement until the tip flips and snaps against a paving stone. I shudder and press my forehead against the hard, splintery surface of my post. I close my eyes, tense my body and wait.

He takes his time .... the crowd noise lessens to whispers and mutterings... then it comes with a force I could hardly anticipate .. the lash strikes me low across my shoulder blades, the course braid of the whip ripping across my back, and the devilish tip wrapping around and grabbing at my nipple, neatly slicing through it. I scream louder than I have ever screamed in my life, and jerk my body half around as I raise one knee high in the air and let it drop. Blood runs down the underside of my breast and the searing sting across my back is unbearable.

"One" someone calls out from behind. I try to recall how many lashes the fat girl received, knowing I am probably condemned to endure the same. Was it ten, or a dozen? I am not sure. While contemplating that, the second lash strikes home without warning ... this time across my buttocks, which shake and quiver under the force of the lash as the tip wraps around and cuts the skin on my hip. I yelp and react by slamming my tummy into the post. More pain, more blood. Someone calls out "two", and the crowd repeats the number, the sound of it echoing off the facades of the buildings surrounding the jam-packed square.

The next ten, yes it is ten .. a full dozen lashes... break over my poor suffering body...each expertly delivered to scourge fresh flesh and torment my private parts. The executioner is a master of his craft....and the crowd applauds and cheers, marveling at his technique and at the intoxicatingly lewd dance I perform under his expert lashing. When it is over I hang limply against my post, my feet no longer supporting my body. I am bloody and covered with angry red welts, one breast on each side of the post, ribs extended, hair tangled and snarled, tears running down my cheeks.

I turn my head to the right, the show is moving on to the woman from the northern forest. I would rather do anything else, but something compels me to watch what the executioner will do to her.
 
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I feel the blood dripping down my calves, knowing it's forming a small pool on the dirty ground at my feet. I can see the same happening around Barb's filthy bare soles, and know how much agony she's in. And both of us know the agonizing pain the brave Scot's lass is about to endure. Wasn't it enough for her to be publicly raped.

"Poor bitch" I mutter under my breath, "good luck, lassie"....
 
I'm hanging by my wrists, my chain scrapes on the iron ring as my body sways...

I want to hug my lover, I want to cuddle my teddy, I want to suck mum's breast -
this oak stake's a poor comfort-pillow,
but my hot breasts rub it, its roughness teasing my tits,
my thighs, slimy with male-juice and my juice, embrace it, pressing its cruel corners...

I've that strange mix of feelings you get after sex of any sort, even the most kindly and consensual,
never mind being fucked like I've just been,
a kind of lightness, almost out-of-body...

"Aaaaaaghh!" that's the crack of leather on skin - the fat girl's skin,
that's the first scream -
the crowd are going wild, shrieking with excitement..

to me it's unreal, I'm floating in a dazed fantasy -
yet the fat girl's screams are real enough,
the crack of the lash cutting into her flesh,
followed at once by her rasping mix of groan and shriek
sound like great trees being felled, one after another relentlessly...

a pause, the mob's wild with delight,
their roaring sweeps towards me again and again like storm-waves...

he's with the tall dark-haired woman now,
I turn my head briefly, foolishly falling for the temptation to look -
the sight of him teasing and tormenting her nakedness with the crop of his whip
brings an involuntary shudder of arousal to my ravaged loins,
I seem to feel it touching me where it's touching her

and now he's going to strike -
I don't want to look, yet I can't look away,
my cheek's pressed against the wood,
my whole body leaps at the thrill as the long leather snakes through the air,
swoops on the girl, brings forth a scream that rings around the square -

at last I turn my head, press my face to the post,
let the claps and girl-shrieks and mob yells sweep over me,
knowing it's only moments now...
 
And now... he's stopped, she's still yelling
I glance at the crowd, they're looking at me now,
the sun's high, there's a gloss of silvery sweat on my whip-ready skin...

Ow! My hair's tugged, my head pulled back, I'm looking up into the grinning face of the Tormentor -
"A stinking Scot, eh? You highland cows fancy you're tough, don't you?
We'll see - just lift those legs, you're going to dance a fling for me!"

He spits on my face, then bangs it against the stake,
steps back off the pedestal that holds the post, holds me at a convenient height...

The moment seems endless, the whole square filled with expectancy -

Aaaah! I leap, wrapped round my ribs by a burning thong,
my whole body - wrists, shoulders, spine, down to my legs -
skips, swooping up against the wood,
like I'm jumping a rope in the playground -
but no scream, no more than a sharp yelp -

Another! I'm beginning to dance, my stretched body swinging,
my free legs flailing...

Third lash, this one slices my bum, I hear myself squeal -
no, I won't cry I' not going to cry...

Four! My muscles surge as I struggle to absorb the cruel pain,
the bite of a sea-snake tearing my flanks -
Five! Catches my sore, collar reddened neck,
whisks my hair, I toss my head,
my sweaty locks swirl round my burning cheeks...

Six! Screeeeeeeeeeeeam!
No more restraint, no more playing the heroine,
scream, scream all I can -
my soft vulva, still hot from its invasion,
now pierced by the snake-fang tip of the monster...

I press my forehead against the oak,
feel tears welling -

Seven! Across my thighs, I kick back instinctively,
but of course he's out of range of my young legs,
and my bare feet would hardly hurt him.

Eight! Fuck! The brutes caught a moment
when I swung away from the post,
tossing my breasts where he could prey on them -
now I thrust them and hurl myself,
maddened with the pain...

Nine! On my twirling, twisting rump -
the rabble's howling with glee, they're loving this...

"Turn round and face me, bitch!"
Oh no, oh God no -
"Turn round, I said, cunt!"

Slowly, I obey, crossing the chains that hold me,
turning my torso to face
his leering, sneering smile,
and the party of Important Persons
watching from the Town Hall balcony.

I lower my eyes, lift my breasts, wait -
Ten! Cut straight across them,
I throw my head back against the stake,
hot blood spurts, splatters my abdomen, my thighs..

Eleven! My lower parts, right across my delta,
scoring a hot red weal across the mount of venus...

A pause, a long wait, for the coup de grace -
despairingly, co-operatively, I part my thighs,
set my feet back each side of the post,
girl-instinct tells me what's in his mind...

Twelve! As the upward swing of the lash tears into my girl-parts,
my whole body hurls, thrusts about, swinging on manacles,
in a frantic ballet of all-conquering pain,
my howl echoes above the mighty applause of the delighted horde.
 
The Scotch girl's screams are pitiful to hear, but all they seem to do is drive the crowd's blood lust even further. "Skin the haggis muncher! Flay her useless jock hide! She'll have her freedom will she? Not fucking likely!"

All the time, I have to remind myself - she volunteered!!!

As the last cut of the bull whip hits her sex, I say a prayer of thanks on her behalf. Now she can rest. And so can the Executioner.

He hands the bull whip to the no-less muscular woman waiting beside Hondoboot, who's cock has begun to rose again, in spite of how he knows his erection will be dealt with. She takes the whip and turns it over in her hand, looking at it lovingly. Then she looks at the naked, terrified man chained to the stake in front of her....
 
fat slave girl said:
I feel the blood dripping down my calves, knowing it's forming a small pool on the dirty ground at my feet. I can see the same happening around Barb's filthy bare soles, and know how much agony she's in. And both of us know the agonizing pain the brave Scot's lass is about to endure. Wasn't it enough for her to be publicly raped.

"Poor bitch" I mutter under my breath, "good luck, lassie"....
Click to expand...

I stand up as the tormentor readies the lash. Kissing your cheek I whisper "be brave my love. It will be over soon. I then disappear into the crowd.
Sheila
 
Hurt and bleeding as I was, I couldn't take my eyes off the woman from the northern forest as the brute who had just finished scourging me now practiced his terrible craft on her helpless naked body.

As with me, he seemed to get off on jerking her head back and verbally abusing her and then slamming her head against the post before beginning to whip her. She kept here silence to begin with, which I admired, but by the sixth lash she was no longer capable of such stoicism and began to scream shrilly as she danced, as I had done, under his carefully aimed lashes.

But then he did something more to her than he had to me...he ordered her to turn around and face him...and she did!! I decided I couldn't watch that and turned away, pressing my forehead against my post and shutting my eyes.

Nonetheless I clearly heard the slap of the lash against the softness of her unprotected breasts, the smack of the lash against the downward slope of her belly, and the bone-jarring scrunch of the final upward lash as it cut deeply into her privates and elicited from her, to the absolute delight of the crowd, an almost animal-like howl of pain and anquish.

It's over now. She has taken her full twelve lashes. The action is moving down the line. Waiting next is the man with the erection ....
 
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For long moments, I'm delirious, the pain seems to be leaping up through me,
my eyes see flashes like flames -
maybe there really is Hell? Maybe I'm in it?

I cannot believe he's gone, even when I hear a whistle and thrash,
and a shrill scream, my body hurls -
but it isn't me, it's the boy on the next stake...

I hang my head, sobbing, still with my back to the stake,
too weak, too frightened, to turn again to face the wood...

The crowd's moved on, they're jeering with even crueller mirth
at a young man reduced to squealing and howling like one of us girls...

But a few youngsters on the edge of the mob
find they can't get a good enough view,
they scoop up filth - rotting fruit, mouldy meat-bones, even dog-turds,
and use me for target practice,
whooping when I fail to dodge and my face, my bleeding breasts,
my slime and gore-streaked thighs
get splattered...

mostly lads- let them have their fun!
I twist and skip about, pretending to be ducking and weaving,
but more just joining in their game,
strangely, it eases my agony, distracts my mind, brings back my life-forces...

there's girls watching me too, a huddle of friends, whispering and giggling,
they're fascinated, I can tell - look at their fingers slipping under their school skirts,
stroking their budding breasts...
they're learning something no-one has ever taught them
about the strangeness of womanhood...
 
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