Chapter 3

Norman went out and the two terrified girls were left with Ian, just leaning against the wall, grinning at them. "Wish you hadn't stolen those things?"

"Y-yes," Queenie wept.

He laughed. "You're gonna wish it a lot more before we're through with you. You won't be thieves after this."

"P-please, we won't do it again," Queenie wept. "Please let us go. We won't tell, honest we won't."

Ian just laughed again and zipped up his pants. He picked up the little white slip and the baby doll nightie that had started the whole problem, and put them into his pocket. "Verna'll want these."

Norman came back in, carrying a pair of very expensive fur coats.

"What the fuck?" Ian said.

"Don't worry, Ronald'll explain it to his boss," Norman said with a grin. "It's only two fur coats." He grinned at the girls again. "Put 'em on, we gotta get you out of here."

The coats were luxurious and Justine felt the sensuous caress of the fur on her flesh as she put it on. It was almost exciting wearing nothing under an expensive fur coat, had things not been as desperate as they were. Justine shuddered and snuffled with fear.

"Come on," Norman said and grabbed Justine by the elbow. "Now behave, you fuck this up and you'll be sore for a week, got that?"

"Y-yes," Justine whispered.

In truth, there was little fight left in the girls as they stumbled up some stairs and out through a back entrance. Nobody looked at them as they were bundled into the back of a police car. Once inside, Norman blindfolded them and they had to sit in horrified silence for what seemed like almost an hour before the car crunched up a gravel drive and came to a halt. The blindfolds stayed on as the policemen hauled them out and up a flight of stairs. A door closed behind them and the blindfolds were taken off. It was a large room, tastefully decorated, with luxurious sofas and chairs all around. At the far end a door opened.

"My," said a woman's voice, "are these the two you promised me?" It was a dark woman, with a square, beautiful face, strong jaw and hard, clear eyes.

"Yup," Norman said, "you got it, Verna. And better than that, this one's cherry."

"What?" Verna looked astounded. She walked up to Justine and stared at her. "Open the coat!"

Justine was trembling all over as she opened the sides of the fur coat and waited, her soft lovely body open, helpless.

"Well," Verna said slowly, "this is a find." She ran her hands over Justine's still red and sore tits. "You must have been a naughty girl." She gently closed her fingers over Justine's nipples.

"Yes, miss," Justine said, fear filling her, "we stole some clothes."

"Yes," the woman said, "I know. You're a virgin?"

"Yes." Justine's voice was shaking with fear. "Open your legs," Verna said.

Justine was choking in shame and fear as she opened her thighs and waited.

Verna ran her hands over Justine's thighs, and up to the soft lips of her pussy. She stared at Justine as she gently probed and pushed her finger into the tight dry hole of Justine's terrified cunt. It pushed in, farther, working up until she touched the tight drum of Justine's cherry.

"Well, I'll be fucked," she said. "This'll go over real well." She pulled her fingers out of Justine's trembling body. "Good price on this, particularly as the rest of the superstructure is so good." She surveyed the two girls. "This one's gone already, I suppose." She pointed to Queenie.

"Yup, all busted out," Norman said with a laugh.

In a very few moments the door opened again and two women came in. One of them was a sultry brunette, the other a pouting, nasty-looking little blonde. They were both in little dresses that were cut at the top to reveal most of their thrust-up tits, and drawn in tight at the waist. That made the shiny black material flare over their swelling asses, while the hems scarcely covered the girl's stocking tops. They paraded in on high-heeled shoes, their shapely legs sway­ing, their tits thrusting out of the top of their uniforms.

"Get these two ready for tonight," Verna said.

"Yes, Verna," the brunette said, curtsying.

"Leave those coats here!" Verna snapped. As the two trembling schoolgirls slid the coats down their arms and stood naked, Verna walked over to the wall and opened part of the paneling. She took out two thin rods, four or so feet long. As Justine and Queenie stared at the rods with rising terror, she came back and handed them to the two girls she had called in. "You see them? Any misbehavior and you'll be whipped, got that?"

"Y-yes, miss," Queenie said.

"This is Karen." Verna pointed to the brunette. "And this is Diana."

"Yes, miss," Queenie said.

"Come along," the brunette said, slapping the thin rod on her leg.

The two girls scurried to obey, following the two black-dressed women down a corridor and into a massive bathroom.

"Get in," Karen said. She pointed to a sauna and the two girls rushed to obey, sitting on the hard benches, too terrified to speak as the heat came up.

The next hour was strange. The girls had to go back and forth between the sauna and the cold pool, but, at the end of it, their whip marks had gone down a great deal.

Then they were taken out to have their hair done. With the makeup that Karen and Diana put on them, both girls looked highly desirable by the time they were made to stand and look at themselves in the mirror.

"Here," Diana said, "put them on, you wanted them."

It was the things they had stolen. Justine almost broke into tears. B "Cut that out!" Karen snapped. "Or you'll get a real reason to cry. Now, put them on."

They struggled with the clothes, remember­ing how they would have had fun in them that evening, playing in Queenie's house, pretend­ing to be all grown up and sophisticated. They stared at themselves in the mirror, Justine in the short slip and matching panties, Queenie in the baby doll nightie, flowing around her ass and pussy.

"Let me see," Karen said, "for this crowd we need a bit more." She took out white stock­ings and made the girls both put them on, keep­ing them up with fluffy garters. Finally high-heeled slippers with furry straps made the effect she wanted complete. "Not bad. You know how men are, love stockings." She laughed nastily.

Diana came in with the two fur coats. "Verna changed her mind, wear these."

"Come along," Karen said.

They walked down another corridor, to a large set of doors. There were sounds of laugh­ing and glasses clinking in the room beyond. Karen slipped inside and the girls waited, shak­ing, unable to even look at each other. Karen came back out. "Ready?" she said.

The door opened and Diana pushed the girls in. "That way."

It was a stage, set about a foot above the rest of the floor in the room. There were spotlights shining down on it and Verna stood there, in the center.

Verna wasn't dressed in a robe any more. She wore tight black boots, stockings to match, a short black leather skirt and jacket, both covered with heavy metal studs, a white shirt, and a black leather cap, pulled down over her eyes. She ran the tail of a thin, plaited leather whip through her hands.

"Gentlemen," she called out and the room fell silent. "These are the two delights I promised you. Stand there, girls."

Justine's head swam as she stood in the spot­light. Out, past the lights, were the vague shadowy figures of men. How many she didn't know, but there seemed to be at least twenty.

"This one," Verna said, tapping Justine with the handle of the whip, "is the virgin."

A round of applause broke out and Justine almost fell to the stage in a dead faint. She was going to be deflowered, right here, for the delight of these depraved men.

"If you'd like to inspect the merchandise," Verna said. She tapped the girls. "Walk down there and back. Do whatever they say."

It was a narrow catwalk, just above the floor, with the men at either side. It was horrifying to look at and both the girls hesitated.

"Move!" Verna snapped.

In a dream Justine wobbled toward the cat­walk. She stepped on, and walked down as the men stared at her. They were all well-dressed, in expensive suits, some even in tuxedos.

"Open those coats," said a voice.

Her heart in her mouth, Justine pulled the sides of the coat open, revealing her lovely body in the tiny slip, panties and stockings. Behind her, an equally terrified Queenie opened her coat.

"These are the clothes they were caught steal­ing," Verna said, "but don't rip them yet."

"Stand still," said another voice.

Justine stood there, her high-heels uncertain on the catwalk, her whole body trembling with fear.

At the back of the room, Justine could see Karen and Diana, moving through, running their hands over the men, teasing them, getting them aroused. On the other side there were two more dim figures of girls, doing the same thing.

Justine turned, almost choking with fear, the coat showing her luscious figure.

"Lean down," the voice said.

Justine bent until her head was almost level with her waist before he told her to stop. The man came forward and ran his hands over her tits, stroking them, playing with the soft flesh, pushing the top of the slip aside.

"Not bad," he said, "hey, have a feel."

He stepped away and another man came up, and ran his hands over Justine's tits.

Behind her, another man told Queenie to kneel on the sidewalk.

The little blonde went down, her legs unsteady, her eyes wet with tears. Hands came out, worked over her tits, pushing the baby doll nightie aside.

"So, you lost your cherry, huh?" one of the men said.

"Yes," Queenie moaned.

Instantly a hand whipped out and slapped her face. "What did you say?" he snapped.

"Y-yes, sir!" Queenie screamed, her hand up to her stinging face.

"Put your hand down!" he snapped. His fingers ran down her body, to the bottom of the baby doll nightie. Slowly he reached in and spread the panties aside, taking hold of Queenie's trembling pussy lips. "So who took it?"

"M-my boyfriend, sir," Queenie wept.

"Now that's bad, isn't it?" he said. "Fuck­ing before marriage, that's real bad." His fingers tightened on her pussy and Queenie gave a sudden scream of pain and pulled away.

"Let me go!" she screamed and tried to run for the stage.

She was grabbed instantly. The coat was almost torn off her, and she was bundled for­ward in the semi-darkness and flung over a table, face down, screaming and kicking in fear.

Verna came forward, stroking the whip. "I'm sorry for that, but some of our girls, as you know, need to be trained."

"No worry," the man said. He went to the other side of the small table, his crotch inches from Queenie's screaming face. "Take my cock out!"

"F-fuck off!" Queenie screamed, her face a mass of fear and fury.

Verna drew the whip back and cracked it through the air, her metal studs glittering in the light. The plaited leather lashed into Queenie's tight ass cheeks.

"Aaaghhhh!" she screamed, tossing, trying to turn, but two men held her ankles and another one held her down on the table, lean­ing on her back.

The whip landed again, getting another shriek of pain from the helpless schoolgirl.

"Stand up," one of the men said to Justine. She did as she was told. He came up behind her and slipped his hands, inside the coat, holding her tits as he watched and listened to Queenie's screams of pain. "Now you're not going to be stupid, like your friend, are you?"

"N-no, sir," Justine said, her throat constricted, her body pulsing with fear.

"Good," he said. He lifted her coat up and thrust himself at her. He was standing on the floor, below Justine, and she could feel his thick cock pressing into her ass through his pants and the thin material of her panties.

Justine shuddered and held herself tight as he continued to work her tits, pinching her nipples sometimes quite painfully, rubbing his cock into the crack of her ass. She wanted to moan and run away, but she could see what was happen­ing to Queenie and anything would be better than that.

The whip lashed into Queenie's ass, getting a terrible scream of pain from the helpless blonde. Around her, the men watched. Four of them had Verna's girls caressing them. The girls moved around, their hands running over the men's pants, giggling as their short dresses were lifted and their hot little cunts played with.

"Aaaaagghhh, uuurrrgggg!" Queenie wept and screamed over the table. Her body twisted, heaving helplessly in the grip of the men who held her. The one standing in front of her waited.

"Take my cock out," he said as another slashing blow lashed into Queenie's ass.

Her hands trembling feverishly, Queenie reached out and tried to pull down the zipper of his pants. It stuck and she screamed again as the whip lashed her ass. She heaved and the zipper came down.

"Take my cock out and suck it off," the man said. "The whipping stops when you've sucked up the last of my cum. Get on with it."

Verna curled the whip into Queenie's helpless ass again and the girl screamed, reaching for­ward, her mouth feverishly closing over the thick cock. Her body tossed as she rammed her mouth down the thick shaft, her hands playing with his cockshaft. The whip cut her flesh, driv­ing more deep crimson lines of pain into the struggling girl.

"Isn't that great?" the man running his cock up into Justine's ass gasped. His cock throbbed and heaved in her ass crack, making her squirm with disgust.

"Y-yes, sir," she whispered.

"Reach back and take it out," he whispered, "I like to have it caressed while I watch."

She felt for his zipper, worked it down and reached inside, feeling the thick hot cock spring into her hands. She took the man's cock out and let it run in her young fingers, feeling his lust throb in her fingers.

"That's nice," the man said. He thrust his cock slowly at Justine's hands, reveling in the feel of her forced caress. "Now take your hands away and run them into your panties. Work your pussy."

"Oh, God," Justine moaned to herself. She took her hands off his cock and felt him grip her tits tighter as he lunged his cock back between her ass cheeks. He thrust the tight material of her panties into her ass crack as she heaved at it, his cock rock-hard and throbbing over her flesh. Justine slid her hands into her panties, running her fingers over her pussy. She spread her legs at his command and stood there, on the stage, watching the horrible scene being played out on the table.

The man fucking Queenie's mouth grunted with pleasure. He took hold of her blonde hair and pushed her mouth deeper onto his cock, thrusting it to the back of her throat.

"Suck it!" he said. "Suck it, lick it all up, whore. You little thief, shop-lifter, you deserve this, don't you?" He suddenly pulled Queenie's tear-streamed face off his cock and up to him as he leaned down. "Don't you deserve it?"

"Y-yes, aaaagggghhhh, sir!" Queenie screamed.

"Then suck it!" he yelled and thrust Queenie's mouth back on his cock.

Queenie's helpless shrieks bubbled from around the stiff cockshaft as the whip cracked across her ass and her body heaved in agony.

Around her, the men gathered closer, Verna's four girls still teasing and playing with them. Only one of them was getting fucked, bent over another table as a man rammed into her pussy from behind. She simpered and grinned, her short black dress up over her back. Her brunette hair tossed as she watched the climax of the pain and degradation Queenie suffered.

For the man was heaving his cock at her face harder, grabbing her blonde hair as she sucked him.

"Yeahhh!" he yelled. "Almost there, whore, almost there! Ohhhh yeahhhh! I'm coming, whore, suck it all down!"

He wasn't the only one. With a flood of horror, Justine realized that the man ramming his cock into her ass was going to come as well. She sobbed with shame, wondering how much more horror she would have to face.