Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2014 15:50:03 +0200
From: Marie Brook <marieboss@gmx.co.uk>
Subject: Marie Brook Remembers Beatrice Part 4

I spent a day or two progressively working Beatrice's mind around my
proposal.

She had to become resistant to the pain that her mother might inflict upon
her.  Once she had acquired that resistance she would be able to control
how she reacted, and so her sisters wouldn't have the satisfaction of her
humiliation as they mocked her tears. That way she could endure the
punishments. That way she was sort of winning.  Sort of.

That was the theory anyway.  At least that was the theory I was suggesting
to Beatrice.

In reality it was a fabrication.  A wicked ruse to allow me to torture her.
With her willing approval.

God, the duplicity of it all made me wet. Little Alice understood
immediately.  Poor, trusting Beatrice however, didn't.  She was such a
delight.

Once Bee had fully accepted the principle of what I was proposing, I told
her to find another cane as similar to her mother's as possible and to
bring it to school in her hockey bag.

The next day when we convened in the library, Beatrice very ostentatiously
heaved her hockey bag along with her and my heart beat with eager
anticipation.

I was waiting for her at the usual table but I wasn't alone.  To her
obvious consternation also waiting were my three favourite little girls -
Alice (of course) and also Gemma and Carol. They were all grinning.
Silently mocking her.

She made as if to sit but I stopped her. "No need to sit Bee. Let's go to
the old shower block. Bring your bag."

The little girls enthusiastically jumped to their feet, grinning happily.
They knew what we were going to do.  We had discussed it at length in
Beatrice's absence. They had all expressed their particular fancies - what
they would like to do to this pathetic creature.

There is a lot of truth in the belief that little girls can be cruel.

Little girls can be very, very cruel.

It took us just a few minutes to get to the deserted, derelict building.

Once more I took immediate control.

"Show us your cane then Bee.  Get it out".

She looked tearful and scared as she fumbled with the zipper on her hockey
bag.  With obvious reluctance she drew out the cane.

The younger girls' eyes widened with delight.  It was like they were
looking at a golden sword rather than a garden cane.

"Here Bee.  Give it to me".

She meekly handed me the cane.

It felt light in my hand.  Just a straight piece of cane.  Thin but
firm. It felt good.

I took a few practise strokes in the air. I tried different things. Short
staccato hits and long, full arm swings.  All aimed at some invisible
point.  Each one made different sounds; with different intensities.  The
menacing "*whoosh*" however was distinct each time. From the corner of my
eye I could see Bee flinch with each stroke. I turned to her with a
satisfied smile.

"Get undressed then Bee.  Let's do it properly".

"Undressed?" she looked horrified.

"Of course" I said "it's got to be as much like the real thing as possible.
Gemma and Carol will pretend to be your sisters and Alice and I will take
turns being your mum. Come on. Get undressed.  Take your clothes off.  It's
not like we haven't seen you before".

Beatrice looked from one to the other of us.

The younger girls couldn't hide their malicious lust; their broad grins
seemed more like leers.

Beatrice turned to me with a pleading look. I managed to soften my
expression and smiled sympathetically. "I know it's going to hurt Bee; but
you've got to do it; you can't let them get away with it. Come on.  We're
trying to help you".

She lowered her eyes and meekly asked "Have I got to take everything off?
Can't I just lift my skirt up?"

"Did your mum let you just lift your skirt?"

"No" Bee replied sullenly "I had to take it off".

"You've got to take it off now then" I said "but *I* want you take
everything else off as well".

"*Why*?" she whined.

She sounded so pathetic then that I felt annoyed.  I wanted to humiliate
her even more.

So I pretended to be thinking of her.  I knew she would trust me.
Perversely that knowledge, and the further knowledge that I would almost
immediately betray that blind trust, aroused me.

"Because I *like* to see you like that.  I like to look at your little
titties and your hairy pus; and anyway, we're going to give you a good
fingering before we cane you so it won't feel so bad.  We're trying to help
you remember... *we're your friends*...."

I put on my sweetest, kindest smile and ran the fingers of my left hand
gently through her hair; pulling it away from her face. My right hand
though gripped the cane with steely determination.  I could hardly wait.

With her hair pulled back we could all clearly see the confused expression;
the flushed cheeks; the watery, docile eyes.

"Come on Bee" I cajoled again "strip off.  We haven't got much time".

We all stood back and watched as Bee undressed.

She took her skirt off and this time folded it and neatly placed it on an
old stool in the corner of the room. I smiled inwardly as I saw she had
already removed her pants. The other girls giggled throughout as Bee
continued to undress.  Her blouse and bra quickly followed and she came
back to stand in front of us.

But I hadn't finished with her yet.

"What about your shoes and socks?" I demanded "I want you take everything
off".

Whining again, she protested "but my feet will get dirty.  I might tread on
something sharp..."

"Don't be a big fat baby!" I sternly reprimanded her.  "Can't you just do
it?  For me?"

She bent over and took her shoes and socks off.

I watched with a certain level of joyous glee.  Somehow that final act of
submission - of complete compliance - having her totally naked and
vulnerable - made me even more aroused. That simple act of removing her
shoes and socks was, at that moment, more erotic than anything else she had
done for me.

I was slightly hoarse in my arousal as I said "well done Bee. That's
nice. Now put your hands on your head while we have a bit of fun first".

Without thinking she put her hands on her head and we four moved in like
vampires to a kill.

I instructed her to open her legs while simultaneously grabbing her
buttocks and spreading her cheeks "Come on Alice" I instructed "you first;
get your finger up her bum."

Alice didn't need any further encouragement.  She moved in straight away,
grinning madly, and without further ceremony pushed her index finger deep
into Bee's anus.

We all bent to watch as Bee gasped in shock. Then as Alice started to work
her finger around Bee made this strange noise as though she couldn't make
her mind up whether it was painful or pleasurable "ooooooo...oh ...oh..ooh"

We giggled even more at that and Bee's face got redder and redder.

I then put my hand on her cunt and worked my fingers between her hairy
labia.  True to form she was soaking. Like Alice I didn't waste any time
either.  I pushed one, two, three fingers deep into her vagina. I could
feel Alice's finger working away in her anus; pressing against my knuckles
through the membrane.

I didn't hesitate to tell the others. "She's soaking again".  Piling on the
humiliation.

The girls all giggled. Feigning good-natured humour I observed "I think
she's probably a slut. She loves it." Then turning to Bee and withdrawing
my fingers to tickle her clitoris said "are you Bee?  Are you a slut?"

Bee didn't actually respond directly.  She squeezed her eyes closed and
pressed her lips together. "Mmmmmmmmm" was all that came out.
Non-committal; ashamed; humiliated.

Laughing, I took my hand away. Looking at Gemma and Carol (Alice was still
busy tormenting Bee's anus) I offered "do you want a go?"

The two younger girls took it turns then to give Bee a good fingering -
commenting again about her wetness; about how they could feel Alice's
intrusive finger.  I meanwhile tweaked and pulled on her erect nipples and
then started to caress her naked breasts with the cane.

I couldn't wait any longer; and I thought Beatrice was about to cum --
which would have spoilt it -- so I told the girls to stand back and then,
to Beatrice, who shuddered and moaned as the girls pulled away, I said
"Bend over. Put your hands on your knees.  Open your legs a bit."

All four of us where standing behind her, watching her bend and spread
herself in submission. We exchanged looks.  Grinning.  Alice had to stifle
her laughter by pushing her fist into her mouth.

Then with more relish than I could have thought possible I drew my arm back
and whipped the cane hard across those inviting buttocks.

Oh my dear God; it was such bliss.  The screaming response from Bee was
more than I could have hoped for.  She instantly released this agonised
howl and leapt forward - jumping up and down.  Her hands came behind her -
kneading and squeezing her anguished behind.

The girls were leaping and dancing too; with joy. They embraced each other
in a frenzy of cruel lust as Bee hopped about -- crying "Ow! Ow! Ow! noooh!
Ow!"

As for me I nearly came on the spot.

We all calmed down after a few moments and I was able to speak to Beatrice
who had slumped onto her knees -- oblivious to the dirty floor -- sobbing.

"So did it hurt Bee? Was it as bad as when your mum does it?"

She looked up at my `kind, caring' face. Tears ran down her cheeks as she
replied "y...y...yes. It was..." and she started to sob again.

"That's OK; it's OK" I comforted her.  "That's how it's supposed to be.
Come on, get up.  Only another nine now"