Enslaved on an Alien World Ch 02
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Frantically Julia fought to check the pull of the iron collar about her neck. She pulled on the chain, she tried to dig in her heels... yet remorselessly Miss Judith strode on before her.
„No... no... please...“ Julia kept choking out, „it wasn’t my fault... I... couldn’t help it... please... please understand.“
Miss Judith strode on... her victim in tow. It was time for those ‘on Report’ to be dealt with.
The double doors of the Punishment Room came in sight. The lettering above them was stark and clear.
„NO!“ shrieked Julia. „NO... OOO... MERCE... EEE... I’LL DO ANYTHING... ANYTHING YOU WANT...“
Miss Judith strode on, the collar cutting into Julia’s neck. The doors opened and Julia was lugged mercilessly in. Virtually dragged in. But that made no difference. She was in. To receive what, in terms of the regime of the Paradise, was justly regarded as ‘her desserts!’
Two naked women were already linked to a side wall by collar and chain. Julia, weeping hysterically, joined Miss Mara who was already seated on a leather chair alongside a wooden dais. At the back of the dais, stood Jason and Ahmed, faces impassive, arms folded. There were two seats on the dais. Both were empty. They awaited Madame Vesta and Miss Kaufman, who was her chief assistant.
The stage, one might say, was set. And, on the `Paradise´, it was a very familiar stage and a very familiar setting. The performance began regularly at seven o’clock in the evening precisely.
A minute before that time, the double doors opened again and the two black clad figures entered. Menacing, remorseless, and as inevitable as doom. Julia, still weeping, crouched like a desolate c***d against the wall; the two women alongside her, though silent, began to tremble.
Madame Vesta and her chief assistant took their seats on the dais. There were a few seconds’ tense silence.
„I will now deal with those on Report,“ announced Madame Vesta in a sepulchral voice.
„You’ve got very good tits,“ said Gordon Crane, his voice a little thick.
„Thank you... master,“ responded Melissa. She was now kneeling between Gordon’s thighs, having removed her tiny bra and panty set, as ordered. Gordon, too, was naked, and solidly in erection.
Yes, two lovely handfuls, thought Gordon hotly, as he felt the nipples firming involuntarily. Although she was temporarily his ‘slave’, Melissa had more ‘class’ about her than any woman he could remember. That made it all the more enjoyable.
„Do you like me doing this?“
„I am your slave, Master...“
„But do you like me doing this?“
„Y-Yes... Master... it is an honour...“
One of Gordon’s hands slipped down and he began to fondly Melissa more intimately. To his surprise and delight, she did not recoil but, if anything, proffered herself to his touch.
„And that?“
„Ah... y-yes... Master... I am your slave...“
Gordon’s fingers delved.
„And that?“
„Yes... yes... Master... I am here to please you, Master...“
My God, this is the life, thought Gordon. And I’ve got this beauty as long as I stay here. He couldn’t imagine
Diana - his wife - ever being made to behave like this. Still, what did that matter at that moment. You never knew anyway.
„Suck me,“ he said, with a sudden urgency.
A warm, wet mouth instantly slipped over his rigid organ, with lips and tongue working at once to perfection.
She certainly knows what she’s doing, thought Gordon happily, as he lay back on the bed... yes... oh yes... indeed.
It was just a question of how long he had the will-power to go on letting her do it.
As he enjoyed the exquisitely sucking mouth... so expert... so zealous... he let his mind review the images of the day. Of the kneeling Julia in particular... of her sweating body on the deck... of the strap falling repeatedly on her shapely bottom.
Delightful... oh... oh... yes... quite delightful...
He looked down to see Melissa’s deep auburn head rising and falling rhythmically.
Mmmm... pure joy... pure joy...
And his ... yes ... his!
What was more, this was but a beginning to his pleasures.
In the Punishment Room, a young, fair-haired woman knelt on a wooden stool before the dais. Though well-developed, she could scarcely have been more than twenty or twenty-one years old. Beside her, one hand on hip in easy arrogance, stood Miss Mara.
„Jennie on Report,“ said the Overseer.
Madame Vesta inclined her head gravely. Miss Kaufman stared impassively ahead.
„This is not a matter of disciplinary punishment, Ma’am,“ said Miss Mara, „but a directive from her owner...“
„Ah yes,“ said Madame Vest, „I recall the mail.“
Julia’s sobbing wails continued loudly. She was huddled to the wall. Madame Vesta signed to one of the black assistants behind her. Ahmed stepped forward.
„Gag her,“ came the command. Madame Vesta’s finger pointed to the cringing figure on the wall.
Ahmed stepped off the dais, took a rubber-ball gag off a bench and moved towards Julia.
„NO... OO...“
The cry was cut off in mid-air as the gag went into her mouth and the straps which were attached to it were buckled behind her head. The wails were at once reduced to whimpering snorts.
„That’s better,“ said Madame Vesta. „Please proceed Miss Mara.“
Julia’s eyes bulged wildly as she gazed upon the unbelievable scene... and heard the equally unbelievable pronouncements.
„The directive is,“ said Miss Mara, „that Jennie receive ten strokes of the birch... on three alternate nights. No
reason is given by her owner.“
„No reason is necessary,“ pronounced Madame Vesta majestically.
„Quite so“, smiled Miss Mara in return.
The kneeling figure remained with fair head bowed, shivering delicately.
„Was the type or weight of birch specified?“ asked Madame Vesta.
„No, Ma’am...“
„Hhmmm... then I think a normal, medium weight birch would be appropriate,“ said Madame Vesta. She signed behind her again. „Jason, put this slave over the Birching Hurdle.“
The huge Negro descended from the dais. Momentarily Jennie shied away, but was immediately gripped by the neck and carried rather like a chicken to one side of the Punishment Room. There stood a stout wooden pole on two equally stout supports. Jennie was d****d over the pole... and her ankles locked to her wrists by manacles. Her toes just touched the floor. It was at this point that her shoulders began to heave with sobs, though she made no actual outcry or protest.
„Miss Mara,“ said Madame Vesta, „since Jennie is primarily in your charge, you will apply the birch.“
„Yes, Ma’am...“
Miss Mara moved to the opposite wall. There stood three tanks in which the three different weights of birches were kept constantly in brine water. The light birch was composed of eight supple, green birch slivers... the medium of twelve ... and the heavy of sixteen. Miss Mara removed her birch from the middle tank and swished it through the air, sending the brine water flying.
Then she took up a position several feet behind Jennie.
She eyed the young white flesh which was already beginning to quiver and quake. Jennie’s whimpers grew louder.
With accustomed expertise, Miss Mara took two paces forward, raising the birch at the same time. Then it came slashing down... delivered with maximum force.
A howl of pain came from Jennie and she threshed wildly along the length of the Hurdle. A multiple blaze of weals striped her buttock flesh. Then Miss Mara stepped a pace or two back... and, as she stepped forward, the birch came slashing down once more.
Julia closed her eyes to the terrifying scene. She slumped down so that the iron collar bit cruelly into her neck. She couldn’t bear i ... she couldn’t!
But though she did not look, she could not stop herself hearing.
Again and again... at rhythmic intervals... there came the deadly hissing-whistle of the birch slivers... the
slashing sound of them across naked flesh... the agonised howls of torment from Jennie.
Ten times did she endure this torment.
Because it had been directed by her owner.
A mass of thin weals lacerated her hindquarters when Miss Mara replaced the birch in its tank. The girl’s moaning cries were pitiable... as, unceremoniously, Jason released her from the Birching Hurdle, carried her back to the wall and re-chained her alongside Julia.
There she hung, still sobbing, having received but the first of three such ‘directed; punishments from her owner!
It can’t be... it can’t be... Julia’s mind was screaming!
It can’t be... it can’t! Oh god... they can’t be going to do anything more to me! It’s not possible... no... no... no... surely I must die first!
„Next...“ said Madame Vesta coldly.
With long striding grace, Miss Mara moved towards the girl who was chained next to the weeping Jennie.
Julia was to be kept until last. That, understandably, was a most salutary experience for new-comers!
For to watch and to wait was a torment in itself.
Gordon Crane was really beginning to enjoy himself. He had had another brandy and was even more relaxed. And he was getting used to the idea of having a lovely woman as a ‘slave’... whom he could order to do what he liked and he could do whatever he liked with. A unique experience and a uniquely satisfying one.
„Let’s have another look at you,“ he said. „Like in the cabin. You made a pretty picture.“
He couldn’t help grinning with lascivious delight as, without delay or demure, Melissa knelt on all fours, pushed her nose to the carpet, thrust up her hindquarters in a high curve and then parted her thighs.
„Mmmm...“ he said, „very pretty...“
He slipped his hand between the widened cleft and began to finger the pouting sex lips.
„I’m going to frig you,“ he said, a finger going to the clitoris, „you’ll like that, won’t you?“
„Y-Yes, master,“ whispered Melissa.
She gritted her teeth to endure the marauding touch... that touch which she knew would ultimately bring her to a climax. A climax she did not want but which Nature would force upon her. That was one of the things she hated most.
Giving a man that satisfaction.
Gordon’s finger moved faster and faster as he gazed down at the lush white curves before him. He played for some two or three minutes, feeling Melissa getting wetter and warmer all the time.
„Liking it?“ he asked. Somehow he sensed what an effort it was for Melissa to maintain her self-control under such treatment... and thus enjoyed what he was doing all the more.
„Yes, master,“ answered Melissa in a tight voice.
Gordon saw the soft flesh begin to quiver slightly; noted the little jerks of the haunches. What fun it was to have a plaything like this! He grinned again.
„Tell me when you’re going to come,“ said Gordon.
Melissa’s haunches began to jerk faster. The inevitable was happening to her, try and resist it as she might. She hated it... she hated herself... she hated the b**st who was doing it to her. But there was nothing she could do about it.
„Ahh... ahh...“ she gasped suddenly. „I’m c-coming... I’m coming... you’re making me... c-come... Master...“
„Good... good...“ smile Gordon happily, his finger moving even faster, „enjoy yourself, my pretty.“
Melissa suddenly twisted squirming to the floor, uttering a loud moaning cry.
„Now... now!“ she sobbed out breathlessly.
Gordon removed his finger from between the still twitching cleft and gently slapped the delicious curve of Melissa’s bottom.
„Good girl,“ he said.
His lust was intense but, somehow, he wanted to put off the moment of taking Melissa for the first time. Perhaps the fact that he knew he could do so whenever he wanted, and as often as he wanted, enabled him to control himself.
„Kneel up.“ he said. He was getting used to giving orders already.
Melissa obeyed, a bleak despairing look of humiliation in her eyes. This b**st had witnessed her inner lust.
„Tell me about yourself,“ said Gordon Crane, sitting back on the bed, „your background“... who sent you here... how long you’ve been here. I’m interested. You see, I’m thinking of sending someone here.“
This was another thing Melissa particularly hated. Having to go back over old ground... to recall a life that now seemed an unimaginable dream. It was a mental agony.
But she had to do it. She had done it before. Potential clients seemed to like to find out as much as they could. So she had her story off pat. Occasionally Gordon would interrupt her as she went along.
„This man James wasn’t your husband then?“
„No, Master...“
„But you were unfaithful to him?“
„Yes, Master...“
„With one man or many?“
„Only one, Master...“
„You certainly paid for that,“ grinned Gordon.
Melissa’s features twitched. How bitter to be reminded of that!
„Are you often whipped here, Melissa?“
„Not often actually whipped, Master.“
„But you have other punishments, yes? What are they?“
„Mostly the strap, Master.“
„That would be the strap the overseers carry?“
„Yes, master.“
„What else?“
„Mostly the cane, Master. For what are considered more serious offences. Sometimes the birch.“
Gordon nodded... and took another swig of brandy. It was astounding to be talking to this woman in this fashion and to be getting such replies. Replies stated with complete frankness; as it they were the natural order of events.
„What was your last punishment, Melissa?“ he asked.
Melissa brow puckered. „You mean a punishment on Report, Master? That is to say, an ‘official’ one, as against the overseer’s strap?“
„Yes,“ nodded Gordon. It was amazing, that vicious strap scarcely seemed to rank as a proper punishment!
„Eighteen strokes of the cane, master.“
Gordon’s eyebrows went up. „Whew...“ he said, „that must have been rather painful, eh?“
„Yes, Master.“ Melissa’s voice was a whisper. Of God, how long was this hideous interrogation going on!
„What was that for?“
„I... I... it seems... displeased one of the overseer’s assistants...“
„How?“
„Sexually, Master...“
„Oh... they can have you too, can they?“
„Anyone can have me, Master. That is what my owner has decreed.“
Gordon nodded again. „Would you say eighteen strokes of the cane was a severe punishment?“ he asked.
Melissa shook her head. „No, master. About... perhaps... average...“
„Well, what’s the most strokes of the cane you’ve had?“
„Thirty-six, Master...“
„My God!“ How the Hell could a woman endure such a thing, he wondered.
„I was ordered forty-eight, Master... but fainted after thirty-six.“
„I’m not surprised,“ said Gordon. He was not, at that stage, aware of the special stimulants which were employed.
„I got the remaining twelve the next day,“ said Melissa.
How could she say such a thing so calmly, wondered Gordon Crane? It was quite incredible. Madame Vesta’s methods and regime certainly were remarkable.
„Well,“ he smiled benignly, „if you’re a good girl, I won’t have to cane you, will I? Maybe I’ll just smack your
bottom for fun. It’s an excellent bottom... and I’ve never smacked a woman’s bottom before.“
„Thank... you... Master... „ replied Melissa, her mouth twitching.
How nice, reflected Gordon, to have a woman thank you when you’ve just told her you’re going to smack her bottom!
Gordon lay back on the bed.
„Alright,“ he said. „Now come and suck me again, girlie. You’re very good at that. Afterwards I think I’ll simply
have to fuck you. I’m sure you’re very good at that as well.“
Melissa made no reply.
Submissively she ingratiated herself on to the bed and, sliding between Gordon’s thighs, took his half-flaccid penis into her mouth.
The second girl in the Punishment Room had been dealt with. She had not been punished there but had been sentenced to two hours on the Treadmills which were situated in another part of the vessel.
When she had been taken away, Miss Judith stepped forward.
„Julia on Report, Ma’am,“ she said.
Madame Vesta signed to Jason to bring the cringing figure forward. She was literally dragged to the stool... and then kept there by Jason’s vice-like grip on her neck. The highpitched sounds of terror never ceased to jet from her flared nostrils.
„I know about this matter, of course, Miss Judith.“
„Yes, Ma’am...“
„A serious offence, of course. Most serious,“ went on Madame Vesta. „But we must make allowances for Julia’s inexperience.“
„I suppose so, Ma’am.“ By her tone, one could guess that Miss Judith was not particularly in favour of ‘leniency’ for newcomers!
Madame Vesta swivelled her black eyes back to Julia, and Jason yanked the girl’s head back by the hair so she had to look directly into that dread face.
„You will receive eighteen strokes of the cane, slave,“ she said. „And, while you are getting them, I want you to remember one thing. If ever you are guilty of disobedience of than nature again, you will get thirty-six!“
It seemed for a moment that Julia’s eyes would bulge right out of her head. She shook her head slightly. She reckoned twenty-four would have been nearer the mark. Still, as she would be giving them, she intended to make sure Julia really felt every one ‘loud and clear’.
„Ahmed... bring up the Whipping Pillory,“ ordered Madame Vesta. „Jason you will put this disobedient wretch into it...“
The two Negro assistants hastened to obey.
„You, Miss Judith, will administer the punishment,“ went on Madame Vesta. „Use a four foot six medium weight rod.“
„Yes, Ma’am...“
Miss Judith was glad of the choice of instrument. The one specified was the longest one employed and thus one could get the maximum whip-lashing effect out of it. Certainly more than the other lengths, which went down in six inch decreases until three feet was reached. She turned and stepped to the rack from where the rods hung, each held by a small loop attached to the leather handle-grip.
It was at this point that Julia, who had slumped forward after Jason had released her, realised she had powers of movement. Making a last frantic effort, she forced herself up... stumbled this way and that... then began to run wildly hither and thither about the Punishment Room. She had the panic-stricken, darting motions of a rabbit being chased by hounds.
Madame Vesta seemed quite unmoved.
Then Jason, who had helped Ahmed move the heavy Whipping Pillory into a position in front of the dais, loped across the room... and, in no time at all, it seemed, had pounced.
Julia was brought kicking and struggling back. Once more she was forced to her knees on the stool.
Madame Vesta regarded her stonily.
„You will receive six extra strokes for resistance, slave.“ she said.
A brief smile flickered over Miss Judith’s lips. She now had the cane and was flexing it experimentally. It seemed in very good condition to her. All the rods were kept in a mixture of water and vinegar to maintain their suppleness... and were only hung up when required for use. She ran her fingers along the smooth length. The rod was of willow, a very pale yellowish colour. Miss Judith swished it once or twice through the air. Yes... it felt very good. She hoped she was in accurate mood for she wanted to overlap as many weals as possible. Those were the truly memorable ones!
Ahmed raised the top of the Whipping Pillory and Jason placed Julia’s neck (the iron collar having been removed) in the lower semi-circles alongside the larger one. Then Ahmed lowered the top of the Whipping Block, bringing down the other halves of the circles. Julia was most effectually entrapped. The padlock on the latch at the side clicked home.
A small ‘horse’ was now manoeuvred into position. It had a rounded, leather bolster-type top and was placed parallel with the back of the Pillory. Then Jason picked up Julia’s body and d****d her over the bolster... so that her belly and flanks rested on it.
„I want her tight,“ said Madame Vesta. „As tight as possible.“
The reason for this directive was that punishments were administered in two fashions. One with the victim left loose, as Julia was at the moment, and the other with her ‘tight’... which meant that the thighs were pulled under the ‘horse’ and secured, thus curving the buttocks and stretching the skin taut.
This latter method, as will be understood, was a more painful fashion in which to receive the rod than the first!
Jason and Ahmed each took one of her long white thighs and pulled it under the ‘horse’. Then leather straps were buckled about the lower part of the thighs. From each of these ran a leather thong, which went through an iron eyelet set in the back of the Pillory. These thongs were then pulled until Julia’s thighs were stretched as much as possible.
Miss Judith stood watching with sadistic pleasure as the curve of her bottom became more tightly rounded... the flesh at its tautest... the cleft widened.
Jason and Ahmed stepped back and Miss Judith stepped forward into position. This would be the first really good hiding she had given Julia (but surely not the last!) and that was always enjoyable.
„Remove the gag, Jason!“ ordered Madame Vesta, „and let’s hear this nightingale sing!“
„Oh you beauty... y-you b-beauty... I knew you’d make a lovely fuck...“
Having enjoyed his various hors d’oeuvres, Gordon Crane was getting down to his main course.
Part of those hors d’oeuvres had consisted of giving Melissa a manual spanking. That was something she could take in her stride. Certainly the humiliation of the thing was far worse than the pain. For his part, Gordon had much enjoyed the shapely bottom bouncing and quivering under his repeated slaps, and getting redder and redder. As he had told Melissa he had always wanted to smack a woman’s bottom... and he
found he enjoyed it more than he expected. Perhaps he would use a paddle on her later.
„Mmmm... yes... work it, my girl... mmm... yes... that’s good... good...“
Melissa was in the same position as that when Gordon had first inspected her. That is to say, kneeling with hindquarters raised, thighs splayed... and Gordon was taking her from the rear, Roman fashion, as it is sometimes called.
Others like to call it dog fashion.
Gordon gripped her flanks and was looking down at his rigid member gliding in and out. He couldn’t have been enjoying himself more. This luscious young woman was liquid hot and she was giving him all she could. Gordon could feel that. Melissa, of course, had to. She worked her haunches in rhythmic reactions to Gordon’s thrusts, undulating and squirming to give him maximum pleasure.
Soon she began to pant...
That was not simulated. Nature had taken over again as the solid organ drove relentlessly in and out.
„Are... are... y-you... coming, my b-beauty?“ panted Gordon in return.
„Y-er... ess... y-yes... Master...“ gasped Melissa.
Gordon began to thrust harder and faster.
„M-Me... ee... t-toooo...“ he said.
Whimpering, knowing yet another defeat for her pride, but lost in the irrepressible surge of her orgasm, Melissa squirmed convulsively with lust.
Julia could not squirm.
Not even with pain.
For her hindquarters had been so tightly and tautly secured, she had hardly an inch of play.
Yet in her mind she squirmed. Frenziedly, but never able to escape... while she howled like a demented banshee...
She had received twelve strokes from Miss Judith... and, at each one, Julia had felt she would rather die than receive another. Yet steadily they came at about five second intervals, biting with an agonising bite beyond true description.
Six fell from her left hand side...
Six fell from her right hand side...
So, in turn, each flank felt the full whip-lashing effect as the rod whistled down under the full flailing force of
Miss Judith’s arm. Skillfully she was concentrating her attack on the central six or nine inches of Julia’s curving buttocks. This was made easier, since her victim was unable to writhe this way or that. Something that was, perhaps, a more pleasurable spectacle; but on the other hand, this was a more effective punishment.
A punishment that was but half over.
Miss Judith stepped back to the left hand side again.
There was a sadistic brightness in her eyes. She was enjoying herself hugely. Julia would not forget this in a hurry!
Especially the second half.
Miss Judith brought the rod slashing down, overlaying a weal already raised.
One would have expected Julia’s awful shrieks to be even louder and more agonised... because of the even greater intensity of pain.
But not so. Such had been the terrible strain on her vocal chords, they had lost their resilience. High-pitched piping, croaking and rattling sounds came from her throat... and something like the hissing sound made by a steam train.
Seen from the front - the view of those on the dais – at each new stroke Julia’s eyes gaped blazing wide and her mouth became a letter-box red maw of excruciating torment.
Yet the faces on that dais were impassive. This was no unusual spectacle for them. It was simply part and parcel of any punishment of any severity. All the same, deep down, throbbed the sadistic delight at what they saw; at what they had organised, and had the power to decrease or increase at will.
Eighteen strokes completed, Miss Judith stepped to the other side again. That had been Julia’s original allotment.
Now there were six more to come for her ‘resistance’. Those six would be the worst of all. So Julia was unlikely to ‘resist’ again. That was the purpose of punishment. The rod whistled and bit into the weal-striped flesh... and the inhuman sounds continued to jet from Julia’s throat.
Perhaps she fainted just before the end, for her eyes closed and her head slumped forward. All the same, she virtually escaped nothing.
„No... no... please...“ Julia kept choking out, „it wasn’t my fault... I... couldn’t help it... please... please understand.“
Miss Judith strode on... her victim in tow. It was time for those ‘on Report’ to be dealt with.
The double doors of the Punishment Room came in sight. The lettering above them was stark and clear.
„NO!“ shrieked Julia. „NO... OOO... MERCE... EEE... I’LL DO ANYTHING... ANYTHING YOU WANT...“
Miss Judith strode on, the collar cutting into Julia’s neck. The doors opened and Julia was lugged mercilessly in. Virtually dragged in. But that made no difference. She was in. To receive what, in terms of the regime of the Paradise, was justly regarded as ‘her desserts!’
Two naked women were already linked to a side wall by collar and chain. Julia, weeping hysterically, joined Miss Mara who was already seated on a leather chair alongside a wooden dais. At the back of the dais, stood Jason and Ahmed, faces impassive, arms folded. There were two seats on the dais. Both were empty. They awaited Madame Vesta and Miss Kaufman, who was her chief assistant.
The stage, one might say, was set. And, on the `Paradise´, it was a very familiar stage and a very familiar setting. The performance began regularly at seven o’clock in the evening precisely.
A minute before that time, the double doors opened again and the two black clad figures entered. Menacing, remorseless, and as inevitable as doom. Julia, still weeping, crouched like a desolate c***d against the wall; the two women alongside her, though silent, began to tremble.
Madame Vesta and her chief assistant took their seats on the dais. There were a few seconds’ tense silence.
„I will now deal with those on Report,“ announced Madame Vesta in a sepulchral voice.
„You’ve got very good tits,“ said Gordon Crane, his voice a little thick.
„Thank you... master,“ responded Melissa. She was now kneeling between Gordon’s thighs, having removed her tiny bra and panty set, as ordered. Gordon, too, was naked, and solidly in erection.
Yes, two lovely handfuls, thought Gordon hotly, as he felt the nipples firming involuntarily. Although she was temporarily his ‘slave’, Melissa had more ‘class’ about her than any woman he could remember. That made it all the more enjoyable.
„Do you like me doing this?“
„I am your slave, Master...“
„But do you like me doing this?“
„Y-Yes... Master... it is an honour...“
One of Gordon’s hands slipped down and he began to fondly Melissa more intimately. To his surprise and delight, she did not recoil but, if anything, proffered herself to his touch.
„And that?“
„Ah... y-yes... Master... I am your slave...“
Gordon’s fingers delved.
„And that?“
„Yes... yes... Master... I am here to please you, Master...“
My God, this is the life, thought Gordon. And I’ve got this beauty as long as I stay here. He couldn’t imagine
Diana - his wife - ever being made to behave like this. Still, what did that matter at that moment. You never knew anyway.
„Suck me,“ he said, with a sudden urgency.
A warm, wet mouth instantly slipped over his rigid organ, with lips and tongue working at once to perfection.
She certainly knows what she’s doing, thought Gordon happily, as he lay back on the bed... yes... oh yes... indeed.
It was just a question of how long he had the will-power to go on letting her do it.
As he enjoyed the exquisitely sucking mouth... so expert... so zealous... he let his mind review the images of the day. Of the kneeling Julia in particular... of her sweating body on the deck... of the strap falling repeatedly on her shapely bottom.
Delightful... oh... oh... yes... quite delightful...
He looked down to see Melissa’s deep auburn head rising and falling rhythmically.
Mmmm... pure joy... pure joy...
And his ... yes ... his!
What was more, this was but a beginning to his pleasures.
In the Punishment Room, a young, fair-haired woman knelt on a wooden stool before the dais. Though well-developed, she could scarcely have been more than twenty or twenty-one years old. Beside her, one hand on hip in easy arrogance, stood Miss Mara.
„Jennie on Report,“ said the Overseer.
Madame Vesta inclined her head gravely. Miss Kaufman stared impassively ahead.
„This is not a matter of disciplinary punishment, Ma’am,“ said Miss Mara, „but a directive from her owner...“
„Ah yes,“ said Madame Vest, „I recall the mail.“
Julia’s sobbing wails continued loudly. She was huddled to the wall. Madame Vesta signed to one of the black assistants behind her. Ahmed stepped forward.
„Gag her,“ came the command. Madame Vesta’s finger pointed to the cringing figure on the wall.
Ahmed stepped off the dais, took a rubber-ball gag off a bench and moved towards Julia.
„NO... OO...“
The cry was cut off in mid-air as the gag went into her mouth and the straps which were attached to it were buckled behind her head. The wails were at once reduced to whimpering snorts.
„That’s better,“ said Madame Vesta. „Please proceed Miss Mara.“
Julia’s eyes bulged wildly as she gazed upon the unbelievable scene... and heard the equally unbelievable pronouncements.
„The directive is,“ said Miss Mara, „that Jennie receive ten strokes of the birch... on three alternate nights. No
reason is given by her owner.“
„No reason is necessary,“ pronounced Madame Vesta majestically.
„Quite so“, smiled Miss Mara in return.
The kneeling figure remained with fair head bowed, shivering delicately.
„Was the type or weight of birch specified?“ asked Madame Vesta.
„No, Ma’am...“
„Hhmmm... then I think a normal, medium weight birch would be appropriate,“ said Madame Vesta. She signed behind her again. „Jason, put this slave over the Birching Hurdle.“
The huge Negro descended from the dais. Momentarily Jennie shied away, but was immediately gripped by the neck and carried rather like a chicken to one side of the Punishment Room. There stood a stout wooden pole on two equally stout supports. Jennie was d****d over the pole... and her ankles locked to her wrists by manacles. Her toes just touched the floor. It was at this point that her shoulders began to heave with sobs, though she made no actual outcry or protest.
„Miss Mara,“ said Madame Vesta, „since Jennie is primarily in your charge, you will apply the birch.“
„Yes, Ma’am...“
Miss Mara moved to the opposite wall. There stood three tanks in which the three different weights of birches were kept constantly in brine water. The light birch was composed of eight supple, green birch slivers... the medium of twelve ... and the heavy of sixteen. Miss Mara removed her birch from the middle tank and swished it through the air, sending the brine water flying.
Then she took up a position several feet behind Jennie.
She eyed the young white flesh which was already beginning to quiver and quake. Jennie’s whimpers grew louder.
With accustomed expertise, Miss Mara took two paces forward, raising the birch at the same time. Then it came slashing down... delivered with maximum force.
A howl of pain came from Jennie and she threshed wildly along the length of the Hurdle. A multiple blaze of weals striped her buttock flesh. Then Miss Mara stepped a pace or two back... and, as she stepped forward, the birch came slashing down once more.
Julia closed her eyes to the terrifying scene. She slumped down so that the iron collar bit cruelly into her neck. She couldn’t bear i ... she couldn’t!
But though she did not look, she could not stop herself hearing.
Again and again... at rhythmic intervals... there came the deadly hissing-whistle of the birch slivers... the
slashing sound of them across naked flesh... the agonised howls of torment from Jennie.
Ten times did she endure this torment.
Because it had been directed by her owner.
A mass of thin weals lacerated her hindquarters when Miss Mara replaced the birch in its tank. The girl’s moaning cries were pitiable... as, unceremoniously, Jason released her from the Birching Hurdle, carried her back to the wall and re-chained her alongside Julia.
There she hung, still sobbing, having received but the first of three such ‘directed; punishments from her owner!
It can’t be... it can’t be... Julia’s mind was screaming!
It can’t be... it can’t! Oh god... they can’t be going to do anything more to me! It’s not possible... no... no... no... surely I must die first!
„Next...“ said Madame Vesta coldly.
With long striding grace, Miss Mara moved towards the girl who was chained next to the weeping Jennie.
Julia was to be kept until last. That, understandably, was a most salutary experience for new-comers!
For to watch and to wait was a torment in itself.
Gordon Crane was really beginning to enjoy himself. He had had another brandy and was even more relaxed. And he was getting used to the idea of having a lovely woman as a ‘slave’... whom he could order to do what he liked and he could do whatever he liked with. A unique experience and a uniquely satisfying one.
„Let’s have another look at you,“ he said. „Like in the cabin. You made a pretty picture.“
He couldn’t help grinning with lascivious delight as, without delay or demure, Melissa knelt on all fours, pushed her nose to the carpet, thrust up her hindquarters in a high curve and then parted her thighs.
„Mmmm...“ he said, „very pretty...“
He slipped his hand between the widened cleft and began to finger the pouting sex lips.
„I’m going to frig you,“ he said, a finger going to the clitoris, „you’ll like that, won’t you?“
„Y-Yes, master,“ whispered Melissa.
She gritted her teeth to endure the marauding touch... that touch which she knew would ultimately bring her to a climax. A climax she did not want but which Nature would force upon her. That was one of the things she hated most.
Giving a man that satisfaction.
Gordon’s finger moved faster and faster as he gazed down at the lush white curves before him. He played for some two or three minutes, feeling Melissa getting wetter and warmer all the time.
„Liking it?“ he asked. Somehow he sensed what an effort it was for Melissa to maintain her self-control under such treatment... and thus enjoyed what he was doing all the more.
„Yes, master,“ answered Melissa in a tight voice.
Gordon saw the soft flesh begin to quiver slightly; noted the little jerks of the haunches. What fun it was to have a plaything like this! He grinned again.
„Tell me when you’re going to come,“ said Gordon.
Melissa’s haunches began to jerk faster. The inevitable was happening to her, try and resist it as she might. She hated it... she hated herself... she hated the b**st who was doing it to her. But there was nothing she could do about it.
„Ahh... ahh...“ she gasped suddenly. „I’m c-coming... I’m coming... you’re making me... c-come... Master...“
„Good... good...“ smile Gordon happily, his finger moving even faster, „enjoy yourself, my pretty.“
Melissa suddenly twisted squirming to the floor, uttering a loud moaning cry.
„Now... now!“ she sobbed out breathlessly.
Gordon removed his finger from between the still twitching cleft and gently slapped the delicious curve of Melissa’s bottom.
„Good girl,“ he said.
His lust was intense but, somehow, he wanted to put off the moment of taking Melissa for the first time. Perhaps the fact that he knew he could do so whenever he wanted, and as often as he wanted, enabled him to control himself.
„Kneel up.“ he said. He was getting used to giving orders already.
Melissa obeyed, a bleak despairing look of humiliation in her eyes. This b**st had witnessed her inner lust.
„Tell me about yourself,“ said Gordon Crane, sitting back on the bed, „your background“... who sent you here... how long you’ve been here. I’m interested. You see, I’m thinking of sending someone here.“
This was another thing Melissa particularly hated. Having to go back over old ground... to recall a life that now seemed an unimaginable dream. It was a mental agony.
But she had to do it. She had done it before. Potential clients seemed to like to find out as much as they could. So she had her story off pat. Occasionally Gordon would interrupt her as she went along.
„This man James wasn’t your husband then?“
„No, Master...“
„But you were unfaithful to him?“
„Yes, Master...“
„With one man or many?“
„Only one, Master...“
„You certainly paid for that,“ grinned Gordon.
Melissa’s features twitched. How bitter to be reminded of that!
„Are you often whipped here, Melissa?“
„Not often actually whipped, Master.“
„But you have other punishments, yes? What are they?“
„Mostly the strap, Master.“
„That would be the strap the overseers carry?“
„Yes, master.“
„What else?“
„Mostly the cane, Master. For what are considered more serious offences. Sometimes the birch.“
Gordon nodded... and took another swig of brandy. It was astounding to be talking to this woman in this fashion and to be getting such replies. Replies stated with complete frankness; as it they were the natural order of events.
„What was your last punishment, Melissa?“ he asked.
Melissa brow puckered. „You mean a punishment on Report, Master? That is to say, an ‘official’ one, as against the overseer’s strap?“
„Yes,“ nodded Gordon. It was amazing, that vicious strap scarcely seemed to rank as a proper punishment!
„Eighteen strokes of the cane, master.“
Gordon’s eyebrows went up. „Whew...“ he said, „that must have been rather painful, eh?“
„Yes, Master.“ Melissa’s voice was a whisper. Of God, how long was this hideous interrogation going on!
„What was that for?“
„I... I... it seems... displeased one of the overseer’s assistants...“
„How?“
„Sexually, Master...“
„Oh... they can have you too, can they?“
„Anyone can have me, Master. That is what my owner has decreed.“
Gordon nodded again. „Would you say eighteen strokes of the cane was a severe punishment?“ he asked.
Melissa shook her head. „No, master. About... perhaps... average...“
„Well, what’s the most strokes of the cane you’ve had?“
„Thirty-six, Master...“
„My God!“ How the Hell could a woman endure such a thing, he wondered.
„I was ordered forty-eight, Master... but fainted after thirty-six.“
„I’m not surprised,“ said Gordon. He was not, at that stage, aware of the special stimulants which were employed.
„I got the remaining twelve the next day,“ said Melissa.
How could she say such a thing so calmly, wondered Gordon Crane? It was quite incredible. Madame Vesta’s methods and regime certainly were remarkable.
„Well,“ he smiled benignly, „if you’re a good girl, I won’t have to cane you, will I? Maybe I’ll just smack your
bottom for fun. It’s an excellent bottom... and I’ve never smacked a woman’s bottom before.“
„Thank... you... Master... „ replied Melissa, her mouth twitching.
How nice, reflected Gordon, to have a woman thank you when you’ve just told her you’re going to smack her bottom!
Gordon lay back on the bed.
„Alright,“ he said. „Now come and suck me again, girlie. You’re very good at that. Afterwards I think I’ll simply
have to fuck you. I’m sure you’re very good at that as well.“
Melissa made no reply.
Submissively she ingratiated herself on to the bed and, sliding between Gordon’s thighs, took his half-flaccid penis into her mouth.
The second girl in the Punishment Room had been dealt with. She had not been punished there but had been sentenced to two hours on the Treadmills which were situated in another part of the vessel.
When she had been taken away, Miss Judith stepped forward.
„Julia on Report, Ma’am,“ she said.
Madame Vesta signed to Jason to bring the cringing figure forward. She was literally dragged to the stool... and then kept there by Jason’s vice-like grip on her neck. The highpitched sounds of terror never ceased to jet from her flared nostrils.
„I know about this matter, of course, Miss Judith.“
„Yes, Ma’am...“
„A serious offence, of course. Most serious,“ went on Madame Vesta. „But we must make allowances for Julia’s inexperience.“
„I suppose so, Ma’am.“ By her tone, one could guess that Miss Judith was not particularly in favour of ‘leniency’ for newcomers!
Madame Vesta swivelled her black eyes back to Julia, and Jason yanked the girl’s head back by the hair so she had to look directly into that dread face.
„You will receive eighteen strokes of the cane, slave,“ she said. „And, while you are getting them, I want you to remember one thing. If ever you are guilty of disobedience of than nature again, you will get thirty-six!“
It seemed for a moment that Julia’s eyes would bulge right out of her head. She shook her head slightly. She reckoned twenty-four would have been nearer the mark. Still, as she would be giving them, she intended to make sure Julia really felt every one ‘loud and clear’.
„Ahmed... bring up the Whipping Pillory,“ ordered Madame Vesta. „Jason you will put this disobedient wretch into it...“
The two Negro assistants hastened to obey.
„You, Miss Judith, will administer the punishment,“ went on Madame Vesta. „Use a four foot six medium weight rod.“
„Yes, Ma’am...“
Miss Judith was glad of the choice of instrument. The one specified was the longest one employed and thus one could get the maximum whip-lashing effect out of it. Certainly more than the other lengths, which went down in six inch decreases until three feet was reached. She turned and stepped to the rack from where the rods hung, each held by a small loop attached to the leather handle-grip.
It was at this point that Julia, who had slumped forward after Jason had released her, realised she had powers of movement. Making a last frantic effort, she forced herself up... stumbled this way and that... then began to run wildly hither and thither about the Punishment Room. She had the panic-stricken, darting motions of a rabbit being chased by hounds.
Madame Vesta seemed quite unmoved.
Then Jason, who had helped Ahmed move the heavy Whipping Pillory into a position in front of the dais, loped across the room... and, in no time at all, it seemed, had pounced.
Julia was brought kicking and struggling back. Once more she was forced to her knees on the stool.
Madame Vesta regarded her stonily.
„You will receive six extra strokes for resistance, slave.“ she said.
A brief smile flickered over Miss Judith’s lips. She now had the cane and was flexing it experimentally. It seemed in very good condition to her. All the rods were kept in a mixture of water and vinegar to maintain their suppleness... and were only hung up when required for use. She ran her fingers along the smooth length. The rod was of willow, a very pale yellowish colour. Miss Judith swished it once or twice through the air. Yes... it felt very good. She hoped she was in accurate mood for she wanted to overlap as many weals as possible. Those were the truly memorable ones!
Ahmed raised the top of the Whipping Pillory and Jason placed Julia’s neck (the iron collar having been removed) in the lower semi-circles alongside the larger one. Then Ahmed lowered the top of the Whipping Block, bringing down the other halves of the circles. Julia was most effectually entrapped. The padlock on the latch at the side clicked home.
A small ‘horse’ was now manoeuvred into position. It had a rounded, leather bolster-type top and was placed parallel with the back of the Pillory. Then Jason picked up Julia’s body and d****d her over the bolster... so that her belly and flanks rested on it.
„I want her tight,“ said Madame Vesta. „As tight as possible.“
The reason for this directive was that punishments were administered in two fashions. One with the victim left loose, as Julia was at the moment, and the other with her ‘tight’... which meant that the thighs were pulled under the ‘horse’ and secured, thus curving the buttocks and stretching the skin taut.
This latter method, as will be understood, was a more painful fashion in which to receive the rod than the first!
Jason and Ahmed each took one of her long white thighs and pulled it under the ‘horse’. Then leather straps were buckled about the lower part of the thighs. From each of these ran a leather thong, which went through an iron eyelet set in the back of the Pillory. These thongs were then pulled until Julia’s thighs were stretched as much as possible.
Miss Judith stood watching with sadistic pleasure as the curve of her bottom became more tightly rounded... the flesh at its tautest... the cleft widened.
Jason and Ahmed stepped back and Miss Judith stepped forward into position. This would be the first really good hiding she had given Julia (but surely not the last!) and that was always enjoyable.
„Remove the gag, Jason!“ ordered Madame Vesta, „and let’s hear this nightingale sing!“
„Oh you beauty... y-you b-beauty... I knew you’d make a lovely fuck...“
Having enjoyed his various hors d’oeuvres, Gordon Crane was getting down to his main course.
Part of those hors d’oeuvres had consisted of giving Melissa a manual spanking. That was something she could take in her stride. Certainly the humiliation of the thing was far worse than the pain. For his part, Gordon had much enjoyed the shapely bottom bouncing and quivering under his repeated slaps, and getting redder and redder. As he had told Melissa he had always wanted to smack a woman’s bottom... and he
found he enjoyed it more than he expected. Perhaps he would use a paddle on her later.
„Mmmm... yes... work it, my girl... mmm... yes... that’s good... good...“
Melissa was in the same position as that when Gordon had first inspected her. That is to say, kneeling with hindquarters raised, thighs splayed... and Gordon was taking her from the rear, Roman fashion, as it is sometimes called.
Others like to call it dog fashion.
Gordon gripped her flanks and was looking down at his rigid member gliding in and out. He couldn’t have been enjoying himself more. This luscious young woman was liquid hot and she was giving him all she could. Gordon could feel that. Melissa, of course, had to. She worked her haunches in rhythmic reactions to Gordon’s thrusts, undulating and squirming to give him maximum pleasure.
Soon she began to pant...
That was not simulated. Nature had taken over again as the solid organ drove relentlessly in and out.
„Are... are... y-you... coming, my b-beauty?“ panted Gordon in return.
„Y-er... ess... y-yes... Master...“ gasped Melissa.
Gordon began to thrust harder and faster.
„M-Me... ee... t-toooo...“ he said.
Whimpering, knowing yet another defeat for her pride, but lost in the irrepressible surge of her orgasm, Melissa squirmed convulsively with lust.
Julia could not squirm.
Not even with pain.
For her hindquarters had been so tightly and tautly secured, she had hardly an inch of play.
Yet in her mind she squirmed. Frenziedly, but never able to escape... while she howled like a demented banshee...
She had received twelve strokes from Miss Judith... and, at each one, Julia had felt she would rather die than receive another. Yet steadily they came at about five second intervals, biting with an agonising bite beyond true description.
Six fell from her left hand side...
Six fell from her right hand side...
So, in turn, each flank felt the full whip-lashing effect as the rod whistled down under the full flailing force of
Miss Judith’s arm. Skillfully she was concentrating her attack on the central six or nine inches of Julia’s curving buttocks. This was made easier, since her victim was unable to writhe this way or that. Something that was, perhaps, a more pleasurable spectacle; but on the other hand, this was a more effective punishment.
A punishment that was but half over.
Miss Judith stepped back to the left hand side again.
There was a sadistic brightness in her eyes. She was enjoying herself hugely. Julia would not forget this in a hurry!
Especially the second half.
Miss Judith brought the rod slashing down, overlaying a weal already raised.
One would have expected Julia’s awful shrieks to be even louder and more agonised... because of the even greater intensity of pain.
But not so. Such had been the terrible strain on her vocal chords, they had lost their resilience. High-pitched piping, croaking and rattling sounds came from her throat... and something like the hissing sound made by a steam train.
Seen from the front - the view of those on the dais – at each new stroke Julia’s eyes gaped blazing wide and her mouth became a letter-box red maw of excruciating torment.
Yet the faces on that dais were impassive. This was no unusual spectacle for them. It was simply part and parcel of any punishment of any severity. All the same, deep down, throbbed the sadistic delight at what they saw; at what they had organised, and had the power to decrease or increase at will.
Eighteen strokes completed, Miss Judith stepped to the other side again. That had been Julia’s original allotment.
Now there were six more to come for her ‘resistance’. Those six would be the worst of all. So Julia was unlikely to ‘resist’ again. That was the purpose of punishment. The rod whistled and bit into the weal-striped flesh... and the inhuman sounds continued to jet from Julia’s throat.
Perhaps she fainted just before the end, for her eyes closed and her head slumped forward. All the same, she virtually escaped nothing.
Marisol
- 27.07.2022
- 16
- 0
