In the shadow of the skating rink, Mia Chung didn't try to scream until it was too late. By then the disgusting pliant penis-shaped plastic prod was filling her mouth.

Her head reared up, her lovely almond-shaped brown eyes bulging in shock, but it was already filling her cheeks and pressing down her tongue. Her delicate hands reared up to fight, but they were plucked from the air and wrenched behind her back.

Mia leaned forward, eyes squeezing shut in pain, a moan escaping her thick, pink lips-which were crushed by the thick pad in which the base of the pens-prod was secured. Then her mane of heavy black silky hair slid down on either side of her elegant neck and the gag was buckled viciously tight.

Mia grunted, stunned when she felt her arms embracing her attacker behind her, then heard as well as felt the handcuffs clicking solidly around her slim wrists.

She tried to scream again, but the sound was cut off when two hard, hot hands slipped into either side of her low-cut, spaghetti-strapped, velour skating micro-mini dress.

She bleated in shock as his hands were filled by her breasts and his muscular fingers squeezed them like a grapefruit juicer.

Mia screamed uselessly one more time as she was dragged further into the shadows. As she went her thoughts were a terrified jumble.

Incredibly, her mind flashed to the moment Mia had found herself inadvertently looking down the blue velour bodice of her countrywoman, Michelle Kwan, as she won the nationals. In a shameful flash, she remembered thinking that, yes, Michelle was the better skater, but, at eighteen, I have the better face and body.

They were both born in America, but Mia's mother was an American, and a beautiful one at that. From her Mia had inherited her body; five-foot-three, 35-21-33, with wonderfully smooth and shapely legs. From her mother, too, had come her small, cute nose-the nose that now flared above a lip-crushing, mouth-filling gag.

NO! she screamed to herself and anyone else who could hear as she was pulled inexorably back, her covered skate blades thudding into the thick carpet of the dark entry hall. THIS COULDN'T BE HAPPENING!!

But it was. Mia found herself spun back in the empty locker room, propelled directly to the storage room. She watched it all in horror, as if trapped on an amusement park wild ride that was out of control. Hairy hands still yanking at her round, high, firm tits as she was slammed inside and down onto one of the many bulging laundry bags.

NO, she screamed again uselessly-the sound a muffled mewl. WHAT DO YOU WANT? But she already knew what he wanted. That much was obvious by the vicious scratching between her legs.

No, not "he." It was "they." While ten fingers were curling beneath the micro-miniskirt, ten more were tearing at her skates' laces.

"Yeah," she heard grunted into her ear. "We know what to do when told to stop a skater ... no crowbar to the knees for us ... no, we know something better to slow you down ...!"

Mia reared up, screaming uselessly into the sound suffocating gag. But then the hands popped off from her breasts, and five fingers gripped her throat while a fist slammed in her solar plexus.

The shock was stunning. She doubled over, beads of sweat popping out of every pore. Suddenly grey fuzz swept across her eyes.

When her vision returned so did her horror. Sue was on her back on a pile of filled laundry bags. Her arms were behind her, her wrists bound cruelly to their opposite elbow with tight, thin cord. Her forearms were lashed together in the small of her back. Her dress' spaghetti straps were lying at her elbows, her sweet, round, buoyant breasts exposed.

That wasn't the worst of it. Her ankles were crossed and tied. Her skates were gone, in their place were amazing, old-fashioned, high-heeled, lace-up ankle-boots. Four inches high. they were also gold velour-matching her skating outfit! Her attackers had made sure her humiliating new footwear matched!

But that still wasn't the worst of it. There was a pole between her knees, tied above and below that joint, keeping her legs spread wide. And beneath her skirt, nothing. The panel that protected her cunt was gone, as was the panty-hose. The skating outfit's skirt just barely covered her soft, silky, slim Asian snatch.

Mia tried to scream again, only to gasp. Thin rope was choking her. Thin rope was crushing her chest, her little pink nipples just managing to poke out of the hemp. Rope cinched her tiny waist.

There was a gargling noise far in the back of Mia's throat. The prod was gone. Instead a huge, round ring was under her teeth, prying open her mouth to a jaw-cracking aperture.

She just got a dim glimpse of two hooded figures in the gloom when they fell on her ...