Wedgie Mastery: Candy Cane

Rebecca Welsh (who from now on will go by her wrestling name), was walking from the wrestling gym, full of confidence in herself. She ignored the fact that most guys were gawping at her curvy physique: she had no time for men, and was used to this fact. As she walked down the street, a large caught her eye: it was decorated with many colours and was advertising a fight of some sort. The 17-year old walked over and read the description: an address was written, offering fighters of all sorts to challenge a mystery man at this small dojo. Candy Cane smiled to herself, and wrote her name on the challengers list with an attached pen.

          ‘I’ve got first shot at him. And I’ll be the only one to fight him. He won’t last against me,’ she said to herself, and walked away. As she lost sight if the poster, someone removed it from the wall, and walked in the opposite direction.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

          As 10pm came into existance, Candy walked to the address, a small building just outside the business sector of Tokyo, next to a building site. She was dressed in usual wrestling gear: white shirt tied around her breasts, red and orange chequered short skirt, white boots, black fingerless gloves and elbow protectors. A thick red belt wrapped around her waist, and her red hair was done up in two short tails. She walked up, with confidence and sex appeal to the doorway, and swung it open.

          It revealed a medium sized room, a pillar in each corner and a doorway at the other end. A man in dark blue pants and top was seated in the centre of the room, his head down and his eyes shut. As she walked in and shut the door, he looked up: his face was mostly covered with a dark fabric: only his eyes were visible.

          ‘Are you Candy Cane?’ he asked, his voice muffled slightly.

          ‘Who wants to know?’ she responded, ‘I need to know the name of my victim.’

          ‘You’ll find out when you beat me.’

          ‘Then let’s not waste time. Come on!’ she yelled, and charged, her arms ready to grab any loose limbs. The mystery man calmly held his ground, and opened his right hand – revealing a small blade. Candy saw this, and stopped just as the challenger swiped upwards. She felt no pain, and promptly backed off, not bothering to look down as there was no wound. If she HAD looked down though, she would’ve noticed that it had cut through the knot in her white top. It split apart, revealing her impressively huge breasts. The masked man had done so on purpose, and now was in complete control. They circled each other for a minute, and then he said ‘Are you afraid?’

          ‘Of you? No way, you look really weak. There’s nothing you can do to me. I’ll humiliate you.’ She readied another charge, but the man stopped her: ’I’d say the same to you, but it’s too late for that.’

          Candy Cane stopped with a bemused look on her face, and then looked down. On seeing her ‘guns’ on display, her arms immediately covered them up and her face turned a colour similar to that of her hair. While distracted, the man rushed forward, and held her arms behind her back. A rope trailed down from the ceiling (in an overly coincidental moment) and he tied her arms folded behind her back. The female wrestler was now at the mercy of the stranger, and she knew it. She tried flailing her legs towards him and moving as far away as possible, but the man made no reaction. It was only when she drew back a breath to scream that he stopped her, gagging her with a white cloth. A second rope trailed down, this one with a carbineer attached to the end of it (even more coincidental) – this he attached to the back of her white panties. With a signal to an unknown associate, the rope jerked upwards, bringing the redhead with it, putting her into a hanging wedgie.

          The man paused for a minute or so, listening to her muffled cries of agony as the tense fabric found its way between her rounded tushie cheeks. Candy cane felt humiliation like never before: not only had she lost, she had her more intimate areas on display to someone she’d never met. The man decided to move into stage 2: he walked over to her and tore off her checkered skirt and white top: after a pause, he got her white boots to wiggle off as well. Stepping back, he signalled again to his invisible companion, who gave a response: the rope slowly moved upwards, taking the humiliated popstar with it. For ten seconds it did this, and then suddenly stopped. A pause – then it dropped back to where it was prior hand.

 As its descent ceased, there was a massive CREAK from Candy’s underwear, and a long groan from underneath her gag. Her eyes then widened with horror – as she felt the rope start to move upwards again. The stranger spoke: ‘It’ll keep doing this until you hit the floor.’ The girl then started talking from underneath the cloth, and he decided to hear her out; he untied it to hear a stream of garbled English. ‘Slow the f*** down, and start again.’

          ‘I’ll never hit the floor,’ she said desperately (or that’s what he could understand), ‘My undies are made from polyester, they’ll never give.’

          ‘Well then,’ he said slyly, replacing the gag, ‘It’s going to be a long night for you.’ He gave the signal again, and the rope started pulling her up once more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘234... 235... 236...’

          The masked man had grabbed a chair and sat down, resting his feet while Candy Cane’s underwear was continually pressurised: he expected it to end after a minute or so. After ten minutes however, the girls’ prophecy stating that the polyester panties would remain intact seemed to be correct. So he decided to count the bounces, stopping when either the white fabric tore, or when she reached 250 bounces – with the latter looking more likely. Said underwear had driven itself seemingly as far as possible between the redheads’ round globes that were her ass cheeks. She had stopped trying to cover herself up, and had hung her head and arms in defeat and humiliation. What made it worse was the fact that people recognised her from her career – and guestimated that he was filming her torture.

          ‘248... 249...250. I think that will do for phase 1.’ From her position, Candy Cane stared in horror: phase 1??!

          The man stood up, and gave a signal to his unknown associate. He bounced the girl one more time, and then let her drop to the floor. Candy let out a moan of relief as the thin strip of cloth relaxed. Her relief was short lived, when the stranger kicked her in the head: out like a light.

======================================================

          The wrestler began to stir after a while, and partly opened her eyes. From what she could tell, around her was the interior of a van. The back doors opened, and the outline of the man could be seen. Slinging the girl over his shoulders he walked away from the vehicle, towards a darkened building site (can you guess what will happen? :P) Candy could not see anything a foot in front of her face. A sudden rise above the ground and bumpiness suggested to her steps. Just as it started, it stopped, and she was thrown to the ground. She tried to get up – only to flop on the ground like a half-dead seal. Her bare legs were tied together at the ankles, as were her arms by the wrists, in the folded-behind-the-back style. The stranger then (in a peculiar fashion) cut free her legs and stood her up. Candy tried to run but he held her arm firmly. With the other, he pulled down a large carbineer that was attached to the jib of a small crane. Just like in the dojo, the back of her panties ended up attached to the carbineer. Leaving Candy on her tip-toes (to prevent the wedgie) the masked man walked back down the platform and into the cabin of the crane. He rubbed his hands together and reached for a switch.

          Knowing her escape wasn’t going to happen, Candy tried once again to scream through her gag. Her attempt was cut off by the sudden jerk of her polyester underwear into her crack. Her feet left the floor in an instant and she let out another groan of pain. The man steered the crane away from the platform and swivelled 100 degrees to the right, halting abruptly. Candy felt the front of her waistline climb up past her belly button, and moaned as the tense fabric slid with ease between her noticeable pussy lips. The man walked out and watched her hang from the heavy machinery. He then spoke from under his mask: ‘Just so you know, this is being recorded, as was the time spent in the dojo. If I were you, I’d not show up at the training sessions for a while. You know, to give yourself a break...’ Candy had no idea what he was getting at, but all that mattered to her at that moment was getting down. ‘Anyway’ he continued, ‘I’ll leave you up there to think to yourself. See you at dawn.’

          DAWN???!?

          The humiliated girl tried calling out after him, but whatever sound came out made no difference. He has gone. Candy groan in misery, and hung by her aching ass, staring down at the floor which she had no idea what it looked like or how far away it was. The time was 12:04.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

          As the hours rolled by, the surroundings got darker and duller and the fabric of Candy’s tough polyester panties got more stretched, she wondered who did this to her. As the clock struck six, a light bulb seemed to go on in her head: she remembered hearing a rumour about two high school girls getting supreme wedgies in a changing room – by a masked assailant. 'Could it be the same perv?'

          Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice. ‘Well now, it seems you’ve been hanging around here for a while now.’ The masked man came into display. ‘I think I’ll let you off for now. Enjoy your trip back.’

          The redhead saw he was carrying a stepladder; he walked over to her and climbed up it – it turned out she wasn’t far from the ground after all, though that was due to stretched knicker fabric. He stood atop and looked at her for a minute, and then reached into his pocket – and pulled out a pair of scissors. He had one more humiliation to lay on her.

         

          With a snip, he cut through the arm bindings and the two legholes. Candy cane fell for a second, and landed with a splat into a pool of mud. For a minute she didn’t realize her predicament from holding her crushed pussy. When she looked at herself, she covered herself in sheer embarrassment and stood up. The man stuck out a foot as she ran, and she fell into the mud again. Crawling away with a face again the colour of her hair, she then got up and ran out of the site – a challenge for someone who had her underwear becoming a taste in her mouth. The sun came out from the horizon: she had a long way to run.

          The man took off his mask and smiled: there was no mistaking that ginger hair.

          ‘I love my job,’ said Hwoarang with a smirk, and he too left the building site.

Wedgie mastery: Ling Xiaoyu (part 2)

Wedgie Master. Victim 2: Ling Xiaoyu

(part 2)

          There was no mistaking it: Hwoarang had seen a flash of someone go towards the girls changing rooms. ‘Who was it though?’ he said to himself, ‘OK think about it... female, looked seventeen-ish, red hair... Miharu!’ Hwoarang knew she would help Ling down. Then he realised something... and smiled wickedly. ‘Oh this will be fun...’

          Meanwhile, Miharu was walking to the girls changing rooms, wondering whether or not Xiaoyu would be ready to go. As she pushed open the door, she opened her mouth to call out to her best friend – only for it to remain agape in horror of the sight in front of her. Ling was stripped down to just her pink Hello kitty panties, hanging from a coathook by the back of her legholes, her mouth gagged and her arms taped behind her. Tears were streaming down her childish face.

          ‘Xiao!’ cried out the red-head, and rushed over to her. Xiao looked with desperation in her eyes, as if to say GET ME DOWN THIS HURTS LIKE F***! Miharu reached for the hook Ling was on, but couldn’t reach. As she did this, Hwoarang came quietly back into the changing room, and saw her doing so. ‘Now or never,’ he thought, and stepped towards her. Miharu suddenly turned to the left and walked over out of view. ‘She’s gonna get a chair,’ were his thoughts, and moved as quickly and stealthily as possible. The girl hurried to the corner to the chair source. Xiao, from her perch, saw the masked Hwoarang coming, and immediately started grunting and shaking her legs (further deepening the wedgie).

          ‘Give me a minute, Xiao!’ said Miharu, bending towards the chair, oblivious to the fact that Hwoarang was right behind, two more pieces of duct tape ready. With one, he covered Miharu’s mouth – which immediately put her hands to his arm. Just as before, Hwoarang got out of her grip and taped her arms behind her back, leaving the sixteen year old as helpless as her equally aged friend. Deciding to play a bit longer, Hwoarang took hold of her chequered skirt and tore it off, revealing her purple cotton panties, which had a yellow flower on the front and back.

          ‘Another girl with childish underwear,’ he said to himself, ‘Humiliation is all you deserve, bitch!’ He turned her around to face her, took hold of the front of the undies, and PULLED. Miharu let out a muffled squeal, as she was immediately garnished with a huge cameltoe. The fabric stretched upwards as it sliced her pussy lips in two. Hwoarang put one hand on her shoulder to keep her on the ground, all the while pulling her ridiculous panties further towards her hair and harder against her clitoris. Xiao looked on as her friend was forced closer and closer into an atomic Melvin. And in a brisk movement, Hwoa snapped them onto the back of her head. He then immediately grabbed hold of the crotch part of her creaking panties and lifted her off the ground. Miharu groaned, and shook her head furiously, in hope they would snap off. Hwoa, grinning with glee, carried her over to the coathooks next to Xiaoyu’s, and hung her from the thin front of her panties.

          There was a great creak as Miharu had all support firmly placed on her ****. She waved her legs furiously – which made Hwoarang realise she still had most of her clothes on. ‘Nothing personal, Miha,’ thought Hwoarang. He grabbed hold of her legs and pulled off her shoes and knee-socks. He then took hold of her school top, and slowly tore it off, first down the middle and then the arms. Once this had gone, he considered leaving on her bra, but screwed that idea. It came off in two pulls, leaving the tortured red-head as clothed as her black haired friend. Hwoarang then got out his camera again, and photographed her 13 times also: 6 front, 6 back, one full figure. He then just stood there, and contemplated his work, watching the two girls struggle with their underpants. The front of Xiaoyu’s undies was putting pressure on the bottom of her breasts, and had ripped slightly around the sides. Miharu’s were in perfect, albeit stretched, condition. Blood talon looked at them a few moments longer – and had his third brainwave of the day. He went out through the changing room doors, and came back two minutes later. Xiaoyu and Miharu (just from her position) saw what was in his hand, and immediately felt the terror once again go through them.

          A sturdy piece of rope, about ten feet long.

          First, he went over to a set of locker beyond the two girls, and tied one end to the higher set, then dropped the rest of it. He then went over, and lifted Xiaoyu off her perch, went over to Miharu and did the same. He dropped them too: Miharu came out of her atomic Melvin with a snap. They both lay on the floor in quiet agony, their underwear still rammed up their special areas. Hwoarang then picked up Miharu, and weaved the rope through the back of her legholes, while forcing her to stand (she did so with great pain). He then turned his attention to Ling, picking her up and weaving the rope around the front of her legholes. He then pulled hard on the rope, making Xiao’s pink panties and Miharu’s purple undies jerk upwards, forcing them straight on their tip-toes. He gave a second pull – this lifted them for a second time off the ground by their underwear. He wrapped off the other end of the rope to the opposite lockers, before revealing a second piece of rope: this he tied from the middle of the first rope to the lightbulb, to separate the two. He then stood back, and marvelled.

          Miharu was now in a regular hanging wedgie – due to the force of the Melvin she had received, her panties were already pushing against her breasts (which, like Xiao’s, were only a B-cup): her limp toes were about a foot away from the ground. Xiaoyu, on the other hand was now in the hanging Melvin, and had her pussy lips split open. She also had stretched underwear, leaving her flailing feet around 14-inches off the ground. Hwoarang smiled – and couldn’t help notice the lump in his trousers. He took his camera, and took six photos of them - three from one sides and three from the other. He then gathered up his gear, took Miharu’s clothes and threw them in Xiao’s bag, took her bag and went out the door. He locked it with a copy of the school master key, and left the two girls in their own torture room.

          

           Epilogue: At six-fifteen, he returned to the school, unlocking as few doors as necessary, and went back into the changing rooms. Both their panties had ripped, although it was obviously recently, as they hadn’t got up yet. Both were lying on the floor, groaning underneath the duct tape. They didn’t even look up when he came in. He grinned and said, muffled under his mask, ‘Enjoy the walk home ladies.’ He then turned and left the school again. As he walked past the flats Xiao and Miharu lived, he smiled at a large throng of people at an outside party on the other side of the road. He put his hand in his pocket, and withdrew the several hundred dollars: Ganryu was very impressed with the photos he had taken, as well as a video he had hidden in the changing room.

          ‘You know what,’ he thought, walking over to his bike, ’I think I’ll do the sumo a couple of other favours...’ He mounted the bike, and added ‘Just if he needs some help.’ With that, he drove off.

Wedgie Mastery: Ling Xiaoyu (part 1)

          Two weeks had passed since Julia Chang’s humiliation wedgie: the pictures Ganryu took went on the net with his return home. She couldn’t show her face for a week after that, staying at home with Michelle. This worked out perfectly for Ganryu: it seemed to soften her up, and she finally accepted one of his date requests. At the moment in time, he felt very good about himself. He walked almost with a swagger down the streets (a dangerous thing for a sumo to do), and was perfectly content and guiltless with what he did: it almost felt good for him.

This feeling happened for the third time after the wedgie, and left him unaware of his surroundings when he walked down the street. This came back to get him, when he accidently knocked someone over:

          ‘Hey, watch it jerk!’ came a high-pitched voice from the ground. Ganryu broke out of his trance and looked down. A young girl, in the Mishima School uniform, was angrily getting to her feet, with a second girl in the same attire helping her up, who looked equally angry. The one he knocked over looked familiar: the small black pigtails had been seen before.

          ‘Watch where you’re going fatty!’ said the other girl, ‘Xiao, are you ok?’

          Ling Xiaoyu! thought Ganryu, She entered the last tournament... thats right.

          ‘I will be, when I kick his fat ass!’ yelled Xiaoyu, which brought Ganryu out of his thoughts with a jolt. Before he could react, she sent the sole of her right foot into his chin. He barely felt it, but it unsteadied him. Without a pause, Xiaoyu drove her other foot in his balls.

          THAT, he did feel. He doubled up, clutching his crown jewels. A few other students saw this, and started to point and laugh. Both Xiaoyu and Miharu gave the scene its finishing touch, and sent their palms into his chin, spiralling him backwards into the wire fence behind him. The crowd cheered, and the two sixteen year old girls high-fived.

          ‘Thanks for that, sumo-boy!’

          ‘Jeez, he’s dumb. Doesn’t he know you were in that tournament...?’

          The voices went out of audibility, leaving Ganryu humiliated in the dirt. He lay there for a minute, before a man walked up to him.

          ‘You alright?’ He was a fairly muscly, red haired teenager. He also had on a Mishima School uniform. Ganryu recognised him immediately: Hwoarang the Blood talon.

          ‘I’m fine,’ said Ganryu shortly, getting to his feet.

          ‘Do you need anything? Asked the Korean.

          The bruised sumo looked at him slyly, and asked ‘What do you think of Ling Xiaoyu?’

          ‘I don’t like her, she’s really annoying. She’s sixteen, but acts like a ten year old. Why?’

          ‘You can do something for me. You can do me a favour...’

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

          As the final bell of the school day tolled at 3:30, all day students swarmed out of the school. Ling had plans of her own – she had decided to go for a swim in the school’s pool – mainly because it no-one else did, and the school didn’t officially close until five. Miharu would be back at the school at 4:15, giving her a good chunk of personal relaxation, as well as peace of mind – although she didn’t know it.

          After about half an hour, she got out and went to the changing rooms. As she slid out of her dark blue two-piece, Hwoarang steathly snuck in from the pool area, his head covered by a Ghostface mask. He watched for a couple of minutes, one hand in the front of his pants unintentionally (she was drying herself). She then clipped on her pink bra, which seemed to have a pattern on it, and slid into matching panties. This was his cue: he quietly walked up towards her, and as she bent down for her skirt, he took one of two pieces of prepared duct tape, and covered her mouth with it.

          Xiaoyu immediately grabbed one of his hands in defence, but Hwoarang was stronger and released her grip. He then forced her arms behind her back, in a folded fashion, and with the second bit of duct tape tied them there.

          ‘What are you doing?’ cried Xiaoyu – at least that’s what she planned to say. It was beyond comprehension. Hwoarang then calmly took hold of the back of her panties, and yanked upwards. Xiao let out a muffled squeal as she felt the cotton between her small cheeks. Hwoarang smiled to himself: ‘God, this is easy. I should do this more often.’ He bounced her for a bit, listening to her creaking underwear - and noticed the pattern on said underwear. He stared in disbelief: ‘Hello Kitty underpants?!’ There was no mistaking that white face. And i thought she just acted like a ten year old. ‘I think i’ll have some fun.’ With a hidden grin he grabbed the front of her embarrassing undies and gave a hard jerk*. She let out another squeal, and then a groan: the Melvin had lifted her off the ground. Hwoarang then proceeded to steadily squeaky-clean her, pulling one end then the other, leaving Ling with a very hurt peach and crack.

          For about ten minutes he tormented her, pulling with a bit more intent every minute. Finally, he stopped and paused to relax his arms, letting her toes brush the floor. He held her in a Melvin for a few moments, thinking how to humiliate her further. Suddenly it clicked to him: a perfect finishing touch. With his free hand he ripped off her bra, putting her B-sized breasts on display. He then carried her to the coathooks opposite the door to the pool, and hung her off the highest one by the back of her slightly stretched panties. Xiaoyu, red with utter embarrassment and sobbing from the pain, went limp, in hope that it would decrease the agony. Hwoarang didn’t care if it did or didn’t: he took hold of her skinny legs and pulled. The Chinese girl let out another set of pained moans, and hung her head. Hwoarang stopped, smirked to himself, and took out his camera. After about six butt shots and crotch shots each, and one full figure pic, he left her hanging. ‘I can’t wait for my payment’ he said to himself as he re-entered the pool area 'I might even think about – ‘wait, who’s that?’

To be continued...

Wedgie mastery: Julia Chang

This is my first ever story, written back in July 2011. Enjoy this bite of nostalgia.

Through the trees of a fairly dense deciduous forest, walked a young Native American fighter. She was dressed in her usual attire: blue denim jeans, red tennis shoes, reddish-black skimpy t-shirt and fingerless gloves. Her hair, braided in a ponytail, bobbed out behind her. She gazed around her surroundings in awe: her love of the beauty of nature was all too evident. She closed her eyes and let the wind blow by her: I will never get tired of this, she said to herself. Julia reopened her eyes, and walked to a small patch of flowers in the corner of the clearing.

          Meanwhile nearby, something wandered along that would ruin the moment for her. A hugely fat man, dressed in a black jacket and striped trousers trudged through the woods – the rather pathetic sight of Ganryu.  The sumo was feeling pretty down – he had another rejection from his dream woman Michelle Chang:

          ‘Please, Michelle, give me a chance!’

          ‘How many times must I say no before it gets into that thick skull of yours!’

          ‘I can change! What can I do to please you?’

          ‘Get out of my sight, and never get back in it!’

          ‘But I can’t do that...’

          ‘You will, or I’ll get a restraining order on your ass!’

With that, she stormed off, leaving Ganryu to hit a miserable mood.

That had been thirty minutes ago, outside the forest and it still pierced his heart. He didn’t understand: he tried so hard to win Michelle’s heart, all for nought. She just turned away every gift and every offer of his. And quite frankly he was fed up – of rejection and of Michelle’s thread of insults. I have to get back at her, he thought, and pondered for a few moments.

          As he reached the edge of the clearing, he looked and saw Julia, bending down to some flowers. So that’s Michelle’s daughter – she looks good, very naturally pretty. Wait... he slapped himself around the head: Why keep coming back to Michelle, she’s never going to fall for you. He stared with some contempt at the girl in front of him, trying to forget the past revolving around his woman. As he did this, Julia walked around the flowers slightly, and bent down again, her back to the sumo. It was here that Ganryu saw something out of the ordinary – a small patch of white fabric above her blue jeans. A sudden plan formulated in his head, consisting of something he’d never seen or done before.

          Wedgie time.

He slowly walked over right to the edge of the clearing, taking in his surroundings, the distance between them and his own position. Julia made his job a lot easier all of a sudden: she got up again, and turned herself with her back against the edge of the clearing, which was about four feet away from her. A blissful smile was etched across her face, no idea of the wrestler behind her. Ganryu, in position, slowly reached out his left hand, breathed deeply... and covered Julia’s mouth completely, pulling her upright. The 18 year old girl gave a cry of surprise, muffled almost completely by Ganryu, who calmly reached down to the struggling fighter’s waistline. He took the hem of her white panties in his right hand, and yanked viciously upwards.

The fabric moved with ease, wedging deeply between her sweet ass cheeks. The legholes around arched upwards also. Julia gasped in pain, and tried to force the cotton back into her crack: Ganryu was having none of it. He pulled harder on her underwear, lifting her off the ground by an inch. The victim let out a groan from underneath his left hand as she felt the back of her waistband touch her neck and the front of it crawl past her belly button. The sumo was thoroughly enjoying himself, and decided to humiliate the Native American girl a little more. Putting all his weight behind his gripped right hand, he pulled up, and up... and as smoothly as he could, snapped her durable undies over her eyes. He then grabbed onto both of her arms, and forced them out in front of her. Quickly, he took out a sumo belt (he always had one on him) and tied them up. He then stood back, watching her squirm.

Julia had never been so embarrassed in her whole life. Her panties, 99% of the time stationary, were wedged between her butt cheeks in a vicious and incredibly painful atomic wedgie. The feeling of the cotton fabric rubbing slightly against her crotch was also known to her. And with her hands tied, there was nothing to spare her from her torment. Ohhhh, this hurts so muuuuuch... what have i done to deserve this? However, Ganryu wasn’t finished with her. Oh no.

He pulled her over to him after a minute or so and slowly arched her underwear off her forehead. The sides of the legholes creaked and ripped slightly, but they were still intact. Ganryu then picked her up by her panties, and carried her over to a nearby tree (Julia, still in heavy pain, didn’t see this). There was a branch, about six feet up and about half a foot thick on said tree. The sumo smiled, bounced her couple of times (her groin was really under pressure now) then lifted her up and hung her by the middle of her panties*. He then turned and slunk back out of the clearing momentarily. It was too much for Julia: she let out a scream of agony, and hung her arms in defeat.

Still out of her eye line, Ganryu came back into the clearing with a camera around his neck. He then reached out, and tugged at the girl’s jeans, eventually sliding them down to her ankles. It was during this movement that the tense fabric finally slide between Julia’s soft, sensitive pussy lips, putting on view a supreme cameltoe and her reddening butt cheeks. Julia had tears running down her face, it hurt so much. Her stretching and slow-ripping underwear was creaking with her weight, and digging further still between her round buns. Ganryu, completely calm about the situation, took up the camera and photographed a dozen or so of her throbbing lady parts and ass. Then just before he left, he raised his hand and gave her one massive spank: Julia cried out, begging her torturer to let her down. But Ganryu had gone, leaving the young girl to hang by her white, taut panties, swaying slightly in the breeze. It was going to be a long seventy minutes for her before the sides of her underpants finally gave out...