Ron Smith - Marina girls

The inside of the bag was fetid. The scent was stronger than the compartment she'd lain in had been. Peggy pulled her body into a tight ball. She still had to piss, but there would be no chance for a while.

Bill and Sherry rolled Peggy onto her side. Janet brought armsful of sheets and dirty towels. They stuffed the. bag with unwashed laundry until Peggy had to press her face against the canvas bag to breathe.

In minutes, the sail bag was so full that Peggy couldn't move. She felt herself being lifted, and Bill and Sherry carried the bag the length of the boat.

Her captors grunted and puffed, lifting her up the three steps to the cockpit. She knocked her elbow painfully against the gunwale when they set her down on the dock.

Janet wheeled a dock cart, like a luggage platform, over to the mildewed bag. Peggy felt tears running down her cheeks. It seemed her bladder would burst. The pretty girl couldn't move a muscle, and the tight fetal position put pressure on her belly. With all the other things that had happened that day, Peggy was horrified at the thought of the further shame of wetting herself.

Lifted onto the squeaky-wheeled cart, Peggy felt every bump and joint in the dock's planking. She had to breathe through her nose, with the wadded gag in her mouth. The sail bag and its contents smelled like the underside of a locker room.

"Hello, Mr. Gibson," Bill said. "Have you had any word about your daughter?" Peggy's heart jumped, then dropped into a canyon of depression. She strained to kick out in the bag. Her legs didn't move. A short spurt of piss escaped. "No, we haven't heard a thing. The bar tender from the club lent us his phone, though, and the police have promised to call as soon as they know anything."

"We were awful sorry when we heard she was gone," Sherry said. "I hope they find her soon."

"Thank you." Ed Gibson's footsteps trudged off. Peggy's tears welled up in her eyes.

The kidnapped child choked on dry sobs as she was loaded into Bill Green's van. They aren't going to let me go. They're going to sell me to some man and he's probably going to keep me locked up forever, Peggy thought. She went limp in her bonds and cried all through the twisting ride.

When the van stopped, an exhausted Peggy came alert. She could hear surf when Sherry opened the door. Bill came around and grunted when he slung the sack over his shoulder.

The bumping of Bill's back was agonizing. Peggy was sure she would have to cut loose and soak herself with piss while he trotted to the house. She saw specks of brightness between the fibers of the bag. They were the blue-green of the streelights. Peggy tried to guess how far Bill carried her, but the bumping and swaying disoriented her. She heard a door latch click. The bag spun around and she fell on a hard floor.

There was a light burning and very little furniture in the room. The echoes of Bill's footsteps sounded hollow. Peggy lay huddled and cramped on the floor while her three captors went in and out.

She had no idea of how long it had been since she'd been caught on Bill's boat. Her throat was dry and hunger gnawed at her belly. Stationary on the floor, Peggy felt dizzy. Peggy's once pretty brown eyes were open. The lively glow had fled. The dark orbs stared dully, unfocused, at the cloth that pressed her face.

The front door of the unseen house closed with a final click. Janet said, "Raoul will be here in twenty minutes. We don't have to do anything after he comes until one o'clock. Why don't you put the kid in the bedroom and get her ready?"

Ready for what? What are these crazy people going to do to me? Peggy gave up and pissed all over herself. The salty, hot fluid burned the split skin of her rectum. Her muscles went limp. She flopped in the sack like a broken doll when Bill tugged it across the floor.

Peggy was too worn out to be frightened when Bill opened the sail bag. Her legs were inert as two bags full of dead mice when he untied her ankles. Bill started to wipe the piss off of her with a sweat-spotted shirt from the bag, but after two quick dabs at the naked cunt, he stopped. "Maybe Raoul will like you better this way," he muttered.

The peculiar fittings of the room didn't register on Peggy's fatigued brain at first. Two black-light tubes cast a purple glow against tinfoil-covered walls. An umbrella stand full of different sized sticks and switches stood next to a rough, splintery table. A large, straight-backed chair with straps and buckles dangling from it dominated the center of the room. Handcuffs hung down from huge black-iron hooks in the ceiling and along the walls. An ancient electric heater and photographer's flood lamps had captured a long-handled buggy whip in the tangled coils of their cords.

Bill led Peggy to the table. He untied the cords on her wrists and pulled her maroon sweatshirt off over her head. Peggy felt the table move as she sat. She realized that it had wheels.

Bill pushed the naked young girl down on her back. Her arms and legs molded like clay in his grip as he shackled her limbs to the table.

At least the wood isn't cold. I don't mind the splinters that much. I hope they feed me soon, Peggy thought. Each idea had to struggle slowly up from a numb bog, deep in her mind.

The shackles kept her legs apart. The piss dried slowly in Peggy's cunny, making goose bumps crawl along her soft skin. She was already accustomed to the stinging in her rectum. Her arms were at her sides. Peggy could have raised her head if she'd wanted to watch Bill, but she didn't care to use any effort at all.

This place must be pretty old. They don't use carved doors like that any more. And they don't have molding up on the ceiling. Why did they line the walls? That reflection hurts my eyes.

I like hardwood floors. I don't care if they squeak I sure would like some water. Peggy lay limp, letting her mind wander. The rope that held her gag chafed her lips. The wad of cloth tasted worse and worse, but it had dried enough that she could breathe through her mouth again.

Peggy fell into a trance. Her eyes half -closed and her breathing slowed. No sounds registered, though the trio in the other room spoke in low voices.

After a long wait, Sherry walked into the silver-lined room. Her long, ash-blonde hair trailed over her shoulders and onto the tips of her breasts. She wore only a corset. The stiff black garment was inky in the purple light and the busty blonde's teeth glowed greenish.

Sherry's huge titties were pressed upward from beneath. Her nipples showed in the cutouts at the front. The abbreviated girdle ended in a flare of spiky-looking lace above her loins. She walked to the table where Peggy lay.

"Raoul will be here soon. You want to look good for him, don't you." It wasn't a question. The tone snapped the gauzy strands of Peggy's trance.

"The first thing is to get rid of that gag. If you make one sound before I say you can, I will kill you. Painfully." Sherry's blue eyes shot icy sparks right into Peggy's soul. The twelve-year-old trembled.

Peggy raised her head to follow the meaty rolling of Sherry's buttocks. The tall, cruel blonde opened the foil-wrapped closet door. She pulled out a wide leather band that glinted in the light.

Sherry brought the device closer. The long strap had a loop on each end and was studded with metal buttons like a dog collar. She tightened one loop around each of Peggy's knees, then passed the strap under the table and jerked it tight. Peggy's thighs spread wide. The tendons pointing to her crotch stood up like ropes under her skin. The tension was hard enough to spread the hairless lips of the little brunette's cunny.

Peggy bit her lip. Her eyes rolled with terror. She wanted to scream, but Sherry's threat had taken her voice away. A final golden drop of urine leaked from her pussy as the slender young captive's sphincters lost control.