Each of these eleven short stories delves intimately into the pain-wrought realm of sadomasochism. Each with a different sadoerotic nuance, these stories detail the trials and torments of those who engage in such games as bondage, caning, oral sex, anal sex, humiliation, etc. Each is a compelling, sensual story of discipline as it is related to sexual practices.
CONTENTS
The Punishment
The Polish Dancer
The Mirror
"Dear Abby-"
"The Russians Are Coming-"
Fragments From a Diary
The Runaway
The Feast of Lambda
The Bride
I'll Never Understand Women-
Vae Victis!
THE PUNISHMENT
I listened with the keenest of attention as Carlos started reading to me out of the leather-bound book he had brought with him into the room-
"For the enjoyable punishment of the culprit, there shall be fashioned an apparatus after this wise:-
"A stout board shall be taken, wide enough to support the culprit's body firmly, when she be laid upon it. It shall be padded; and its length shall run from the top of her head to the commencement of the cleft between the two cheeks of her butt.
"The nearer end of this board shall be affixed to a metal framework set firmly in the floor; and this framework shall have two vertical members and a horizontal cross-bar connecting them at the top; the height of the cross-bar above the ground shall be the same as the height of a man's crotch above the ground; and the nearer end of the board shall pivot freely around the cross-bar.
"The farther end of the board shall be furnished with two stout hook-eyes, one upon either side; and to these hook-eyes shall be attached wire ropes, running upwards to the ceiling of the room and there passing through pulleys set vertically above the metal framework. And in this wise it shall be possible to maintain the board at will in the horizontal position, by loosening the wire ropes to lower the farther end of the board: or in the vertical position, by drawing the wire ropes upward to the ceiling.
"And the board shall carry restraining devices to immobilize the body of the culprit:-
"Item At the farther end of the board shall be affixed a vise to clasp the head of the culprit around the forehead and the temples, so that she may not move her head in any wise.
"Item At the appropriate distance along the board shall be affixed two padded lugs or pins, one upon either side of the board, these being set to lie in the armpits of the culprit; and the purpose of these lugs or pins shall be to uphold the culprit's body when the board be set in the vertical position, so that she may not slide downward towards the ground.
"Item A stout leather strap shall be affixed to the board in such a position that, when closed, it shall hold the culprit very firmly across her stomach.
"Item At the nearer end of the board shall be affixed a circle or hoop of stout metal, set almost at right angles to the surface of the board, but inclining somewhat to the farther end of the board; thus, when the board be set horizontally, the circle of metal will stand nearly vertical, and when the board be set vertically, the circle will lie almost horizontal. And the diameter of the circle shall be four feet; and the circle shall carry two ankle-cuffs, set one on the right and one on the left, each lying at two-thirds of the distance between the bottom of the circle and the top.
"The culprit shall be affixed to the aforesaid apparatus in this wise:-
"She shall be brought naked to the place of her punishment and laid upon her back on the padded board, which shall be set in the horizontal position. Her body shall be adjusted so that the padded lugs or pins lie properly in her armpits; then shall the leather strap be drawn very tightly across her stomach.
"Then shall her arms be brought behind her back, underneath the board upon which she lies, and there joined together with cords, the wrist of the one to the elbow of the other, and vice versa, so that she must perforce embrace the board behind her back.
"Then shall the vise be tightened upon her forehead and her temples, so that all movement of her head be denied to her; and a gag shall be set in her mouth. And the gag shall consist of a wide-necked funnel of metal, leather-covered, which shall be forced down into her mouth, thus causing her to open her jaws to the widest; and a solid plug of leather shall be set in the mouth of the funnel so that no sound may issue forth from her mouth; but the removal of the plug shall leave the funnel in situ, to offer unrestricted access to the culprit's mouth-
"And the culprit's legs shall be drawn up at right angles to her body and there spread wide, that her ankles may be confined in the ankle-cuffs set on the right and on the left of the metal circle.
"And when the culprit shall have been affixed in this fashion, it will be found that she is vulnerable to her tormentors in all ways:-
"Item Her mouth must perforce accept the pricks of her tormentors, provided only that the leather plug be withdrawn from the mouth of the funnel; nor can she move her head to the one side or the other to avoid the penetration of her mouth, by reason of the vise in which her head is confined.
"Item Her breasts lie vulnerable to the whims of her tormentors; nor can she twist her body aside, to save them from the birch or scourge, by reason of her arms being tied behind her back, and by reason of the strap across her belly.
"Item Save for the area underlying this strap, the whole of her belly lies vulnerable-likewise.
"Item So too the fronts of her thighs.
"Item So too, from the nearer end, the backs of her thighs, the soles of her feet, and the two cheeks of her butt.
"Item And in this position she may be whipped on the insides of her thighs and so down into her open cunt, without hope of surcease save at the discretion of her tormentors.
"Item And she may be taken at will in either cunt or arsehole; nor can she escape by the twisting of her legs, by reason of the ankle-cuffs which hold them stretched and widely-parted, so that she must display her secret treasures openly and without defense. Her tormentor may remain standing as he enters her, be it in the cunt or in the butt-hole; or-should he desire it for his greater pleasure-he may bend forward through the circle of metal to press himself onto the softness of her body as he serves her.
"And should her tormentors desire to take her in the cunt and in the arsehole at one time, then it will be convenient to raise the board to the vertical position; one tormentor may take post behind her, to enter her by her arsehole, while his companion stoops to rise within the metal circle, that he may stand between her parted thighs and so penetrate her in the cunt--. "
Carlos looked over at me. "Seems to make sense so far, wouldn't you say, Victoria?" he asked. His eyes held mine for a long moment; but I could not answer him. I found myself torn by conflicting emotions; first, a clearly-defined and understandable feeling of horror and disgust at the situation described in such intimate, explicit detail by the dispassionate instructions that Carlos had been reading out; but underneath-(and not so far underneath, I found myself admitting) was a subtler feeling, of almost sickening fascination; my mind's eye saw the two big stiff pricks sinking slowly into the well-stretched cunt and arsehole, simultaneously; I could imagine the leather plug being withdrawn from the funnel-gag, and then the slow, deliberate frigging of a swollen cock so that it must discharge into the helpless, gaping mouth. I felt my cunt go moist at these thoughts, despite myself; and I shuddered with pleasure at the sensation-
"Well, I know you'll want to hear about the actual punishment!" Carlos went on. He began reading from the book again:-
"For the punishment of the culprit there shall be assigned three tormentors; and they shall carry out their task in this wise:-
"They shall commence by whipping the culprit upon the backs of her thighs and upon the cheeks of her butt, with smacking-straps of stout leather; two of the tormentors shall so whip her, one on either side of her body; and the third shall play cunningly upon the nipples of her breasts meanwhile, so that she be visited by mingled pain and pleasure at one time-
"And she shall receive one hundred strokes from the smacking-straps-viz, upon each thigh thirty, to be delivered in three sets of ten, one upon the outer aspect of the thigh, one upon the central aspect, and one upon the inner aspect: and each set shall run from mid-thigh to the springing of the butt-cheek; and upon each butt-cheek twenty strokes, to be delivered ten horizontally, and ten vertically; and so shall the whole surface be turned an even red by the strokes of the smacking-straps-
"Then shall her discomfort be increased by the application of a birch of fresh stinging-nettles upon the surface reddened by the smacking-straps; she shall be whipped in this fashion ad libitum by her two tormentors, and she shall be visited with nettles between the two cheeks of her butt, and upon her open cunt. And the third tormentor shall continue to frig her nipples skillfully, so that they stand hard upon her breasts-
"And when her tormentors tire of birching her with the nettles, they shall take her together; the one shall bugger her within her arsehole, while the other shall withdraw the leather plug from the gag which is in her mouth, and take her in that place. And while she is being served in this fashion, the third tormentor shall mount upon a stool and whip her across the soles of her feet with a thin cane-
"She shall be brought to orgasm copiously at this time; the tormentor within her arsehole shall frig her with his fingers upon her clitoris until she give down her juices; and when the contractions of her arsehole upon his prick do signify that she is in orgasm, then shall he plow her vigorously back and forth, that the sensation may be multiplied within her, and she be made to spend more freely thereby.
"And when her orgasm is at an end, then shall they replace the plug within her gag and proceed further with the punishment of her body; and her tormentors shall change roles among themselves by mutual agreement, so that each may punish her in diverse fashions, and enjoy her in her three orifices, before the punishment be ended-
"Now the culprit shall be whipped upon the fronts of her thighs and upon her belly with the leather smacking-straps as before; she shall receive eighty strokes at this time-viz, upon each thigh thirty, under the same conditions as before, namely ten upon the central aspect of the thigh, and ten each upon the inner and the outer aspects; and twenty strokes upon her belly, ten to be delivered across the belly, and ten upward along the belly, these last being given from below, between her parted legs.
"Then shall she be whipped upon the open cunt and in the cleft between the two cheeks of her butt, with a little scourge of six thin cords, each cord bearing six hard knots along its length. And this shall continue until she be in danger of fainting; and at that time the punishment shall cease, and the plug be removed from her gag, and she shall be taken by two tormentors together, the one fucking her in her cunt, and the other in her mouth. And while she is being served, the third tormentor shall whip her upon the calves of her legs with a switch of whalebone.
"At this time also she shall be made to come freely; and if the fucking of her tormentor's prick within her cunt be not sufficient to bring her juices down, then shall he frig her with his fingers upon her clitoris until she arrive at her orgasm.
"And when her orgasm is at an end, then shall they replace the plug within her gag once more, that they be not deafened by her cries; and they shall punish her further. "
Carlos paused in his reading and looked over at me with a knowing grin. "Now we come to the really sexy bit, Victoria," he said, "where they use the birch! That should be fun to watch, don't you think?" His question was rhetorical, and I made no attempt to answer. He took up the book again:-
"Now shall the culprit be birched very thoroughly upon the backs of her thighs and the cheeks of her butt, and upon the insides of her thighs-likewise; and for this birching two tormentors shall arm themselves each with a rod containing six switches, each two foot in length and fresh cut from the tree, and each furnished with hard buds a-plenty, not yet come to flower.
"And the third tormentor shall play with the nipples of her breasts during the time of her punishment with the birch rods; for the pain will be severe, and will try her sorely-
"The birching of the culprit's thighs and butt shall continue until her flesh be well-flecked with spots of blood, where the hard buds upon the switches have broken the tender skin; then shall the board upon which she lies be raised to the vertical, by drawing up the wire ropes attached to the farther end, so that the culprit is brought to a sitting position, with her legs spread very wide before her-
"Now shall her two tormentors, freshly inflamed by the birching of her naked body, take her in the arsehole and the cunt together at one time; and while she is being served in this fashion, the third tormentor shall birch her with nettles upon her legs below the knees, and upon her feet.
"All of the culprit's body having been by now well punished, save only her breasts, which have remained until now free of harm and hurt, it shall be fitting for the tormentors to concentrate their final efforts upon these fair globes, in this wise:-
"Item She shall be whipped across the breasts with light smacking-straps until the whole surface be brought to an even red.
"Item The nettle-birches shall then be brought into play, till the two breasts dance upon her body in the frenzy of their itching.
"Item Then shall the tormentors whip her naked breasts with the little scourge of knotted cords, making pretence that they would soothe the itching of her globes; but she shall not believe them, as she feels the hard knots biting into her tender, swollen nipples.
"Item Now she shall be whipped across the breasts very smartly with ten strokes of a leather thong; and care shall be taken that the thong fall plentifully across the swollen buds of her nipples, till they be two fiery coals of pain upon her breasts-
"And at the last her tormentors shall withdraw the leather plug from the gag within her mouth; and one shall mount upon a step, till his crotch be at a level with her mouth; and he shall fuck her in the mouth till the spunk pour from his prick, so that she must perforce swallow him down within her, as with the others before him; and at the same time the other two tormentors shall enter her body together, in cunt and arsehole; and the three of them shall serve her simultaneously-
"Thus shall the punishment of the culprit be concluded; and she shall be released, to continue in the service of her Master. "
Carlos closed the book with a snap. Then he leaned forward and tweaked one of my nipples with his left hand; with his right, he gestured to the three huge Negroes who had been patiently waiting to one side during his reading from the book. As they padded forward towards my naked body, pushing their trolley with its load of pain-the birches, the whips and scourges, the fresh green nettles-I struggled desperately to escape; but I was powerless against the stout leather belt around my waist, nor could I free my arms from their forced embrace of the padded board on which I was lying. I screamed full-throated behind the leather funnel-gag that forced my jaws apart; but the solid plug was firmly in position, and I could hear only a plaintive whimpering "Nnng-nnngg!! "
For a few moments, Carlos fingered my cunt skillfully, till I felt myself all moist with desire, even in the midst of my terror; I would have thrown my head back in abandon, but the vise at my temples held me firm, and I could only gaze pleadingly at my Master, who stared impassively back at me.
His lips twitched in a brief little smile of satisfaction as he ran his eyes over my helpless body; he gave a last devastating flick at my erect and sensitive clitoris; then he stepped away, and nodded to the Negroes to begin the punishment.
* * *
THE POLISH DANCER
Major Ernst Wessel smiled with satisfaction as he ran his eyes over the dozen officers seated at the well-appointed dining-table. Camp Unterwald was not, perhaps, a glamorous command; but it was safe-Major Wessel appreciated safety; he had lost his left foot on the Russian Front; and he would always feel that the enameled Ritterkreuz hanging on its silk ribbon round his neck was a poor exchange-even though the Fuehrer himself had placed it there. That signal honor, of course, had been done him because of his kinship with the famous Horst Wessel-'Cousin Horst', whom the Nazis had elevated to the status of a legendary hero. Major Wessel had despised his cousin as an uncultured boor and a bully; and he derived a certain sardonic satisfaction from being able to make use of him after his death. He hummed the first few bars of the "Horst Wessel Lied" under his breath-"Cousin Horst's song," as he called it mockingly:-
Die faline hoch, Die reihen fest geschlossen-"
Senior officers were reluctant, he found, to take too firm a line with Horst Wessel's cousin, who had been decorated by the Fuehrer in person; thus, he could-and did-permit himself a most rewarding latitude in the running of Camp Unterwald-
Not only was Camp Unterwald safe, it was also-since Major Wessel had assumed command-reasonably amusing on occasion. The Men's Camp occupied perhaps two thirds of the total area; separated from it by a double barbed-wire fence of formidable proportions lay the Women's Camp, where some 500 of the Reich's female political prisoners were incarcerated. Major Wessel had introduced certain innovations into the administrative set-up of the Women's Camp-the formation of Block C, for example. Into Block C had been concentrated the cream of Camp Unterwald's female crop-some 25 to 30 of the younger women, who still retained their good looks. The women of Block C had one single role in life-the sexual gratification of Major Wessel's officers; and as long as they continued to find favor with their masters, they were well fed-to keep their bodies soft and rounded-and well cared for medically. Few lent themselves willingly to the vile excesses to which they were subjected by their captors; but all forced their bodies into some show of cooperation-for dismissal from Block C led to a sojourn in Block K-(another of Major Wessel's innovations)-where some 50 women served the animal lusts of the camp staff. Life in Block K was even more unspeakably brutal than in Block C-but it was still infinitely preferable to the living death of the other blocks, which were but transit stations offering a brief pause before the final, irrevocable outrage of the gas oven.
The first women selected for Block C had been hand-picked personally by Major Wessel and Captain Heinrich, the head of the SS detachment at the camp, from among the 500 inmates of the Women's Camp; and as each new shipment of prisoners arrived the two officers inspected the female element carefully, finding each time a fresh young blonde Resistance worker, or a dark-haired Jewish beauty, to replace an older and more jaded woman from Block C.
Ten days previously, the new intake had yielded the Polish dancer-a young girl from the Warsaw Ballet, some 22 years of age. Major Wessel had been struck by the high-cheeked sensual beauty of the flat, Slavic face, and the breath-taking curves of the slim, well-rounded body-for the girl had but recently been arrested, and had not yet grown haggard and emaciated from the starvation rations of the Reich's concentration camps-
The Polish dancer's youthful beauty made her an automatic selection for Block C; but so far none of the officers had seen her. Since her arrival she had been under Dr. Wirtz' care in the infirmary receiving inoculations, vitamin injections, strengthening foods: being deloused, and checked for disease. Now she was ready to make her debut in the tasty programme for her.
He glanced at his watch; for the last half-hour, Dr. Wirtz' aphrodisiac injection would have been at work within the Polish dancer's body, inflaming her sexual appetite, deadening her inhibitions. She was as ready now as she would ever be.
The mess-waiters had cleared the table; his officers began glancing at him as he sat at the head of the table, awaiting his formal permission to leave the dining-room. In the corner of the room, the string quartet had started their selection of after-dinner music. They played beautifully-as indeed they should; all of them were musicians of the first rank-one even had a minor international reputation. It was, literally, a matter of life or death that they should play beautifully; for all of them knew that only Major Wessel's love of good music stood between them and the gas ovens. They were yet another of the Major's little innovations at Camp Unterwald; it was easy enough to keep them reasonably well fed, and clad in clean, well-fitting prison uniforms. This evening, they had been briefed as to their role by Major Wessel in person; and now, like the officers, they kept glancing at him, anxious not to miss his signals.
Major Wessel's knuckles on the polished table-top brought conversation to a halt, "Gentlemen, we have a very special surprise for you tonight!" The officers were all attention at these words. He went on-"Captain Heinrich and I take pride in presenting to you our latest acquisition for Block C-from now on, we in Camp Unterwald can look forward to interesting results when we wish to feel like Oriental potentates, and cry-'Bring on the dancing-girls!' " His voice rose to a shout on the last words; and the officers round the table started in surprise as the high double doors of the dining-room flew open, to reveal the Polish dancer, held firmly in the grip of a huge Feldwebel. "Bring her in, Sergeant, bring her in!" said Major Wessel cheerfully. The grinning sergeant pushed the girl violently forward, so that she tripped and stumbled to her knees; then there was a cheer from the officers as he stopped and ripped the flimsy prison uniform from the smooth golden body, leaving her naked before her appreciative audience.
Terrified by the unexpected turn of events, the Polish dancer stared helplessly at the German officers, her eyes wide with fear. "Dance for us, bitch!" said Major Wessel softly; and the girl climbed shakily to her feet, blushing furiously as her hands moved to cover the nakedness of her private parts. Major Wessel turned to the musicians sitting motionless in their places, their faces frozen into impassive masks-not daring to show pity for the girl, or disgust, lest such an imprudent reaction might bring them to their deaths. "Play!" he said firmly; and without hesitation they broke into a fast, gay czardas. "Dance, girl, dance!" shouted the officers; and slowly the Polish dancer's reluctance melted, as Dr. Wirtz' aphrodisiac combined with the exhilarating music to set her feet tapping on the floor.
She danced modestly at first, being still embarrassed at the thought of the officers watching her breasts as they swayed and bounced, and peering lustfully between her legs as they opened in the dance, to see if they could mark the movements of her naked cunt; but as Major Wessel signalled to the musicians to play faster and faster, her movements became less inhibited, her body more elastic. Soon a sheen of perspiration began to show on the graceful curves of her body as she whirled and undulated in the dance; and the aphrodisiac spread through her veins like fire as her rapid movement set her heart beating fast and strong.
Despite herself, she began to smile with pleasure as the rhythm of the dance took hold of her. Her lips were set half-open in a formalized stage smile; the officers could hear the breath panting in and out of her mouth as she whirled near the table, her tangled black hair now swaying to and from in front of her face, now sticking to her cheeks and shoulders, all moist with perspiration.
Before long she was dancing furiously, in utter abandon, as Dr. Wirtz' drug released and magnified the desire within her body. She approached the table again, and offered herself to each of the officers in turn as she danced naked in front of them, pushing her firm breasts out at them with sensuous stroking movements of her hands, rolling her softly-curving belly round and round as though she were in orgasm, turning round to stoop with parted legs and offer the spectacle of her fresh crimson cunt thrusting back and forth in open invitation.
Overcome by the Polish dancer's abandoned frenzy, one of the young lieutenants rose from his chair and took a long, purposeful stride towards the girl's naked body; but Captain Heinrich barked his name out savagely, and the young officer stopped in mid-stride and regained his seat, his face haggard with desire as he watched the girl's breasts bouncing to and fro.
In an agony of lust-for the aphrodisiac was now inflaming her body from head to heels-the Polish dancer threw herself to the floor, her legs spread wide apart and bent at the knees. Then she began to raise and lower her buttocks, as if to meet the cock-thrusts of an invisible lover; her hands went to her crotch; and in full view of the delighted officers she began playing with her cunt, holding the pouting lips apart with the fingers of one hand while she tickled herself on the clitoris with the other.
Soon she began crying out, breathless words in Polish; and one or two of the officers who had a smattering of that language grinned to hear herfor she was begging, quite shamelessly, to be fucked. Then she arched her back in a paroxysm of lust, so that her foaming cunt gaped open towards the watching officers; and now one hand stole up her body, to tease the pretty coral nipples on the firm golden breasts.
As the girl writhed voluptuously on the floor, Major Wessel turned to Captain Heinrich and whispered in his ear. The tall SS officer grinned and nodded, then went swiftly to the doors of the dining-room and threw them open to reveal a round dozen of the younger camp guards standing naked in the doorway, eyes sparkling with anticipation and pricks erect against their flat muscular bellies. There were gasps of delighted surprise from the officers seated round the dining-table as they realized the additional treat that was in store for them. One or two of them turned to Major Wessel, laughing and clapping; he acknowledged their applause with a sardonic smile and a wave of his hand.
At the door, Heinrich gestured towards the Polish dancer; there was no need for a spoken command. The men laughed and whooped as they ran eagerly to where the girl lay, fighting among themselves to settle who should be the first to take her.
A big blonde Prussian succeeded in elbowing the others out of his way, and threw himself down on top of the girl, working his muscular buttocks purposefully between her parted thighs, and kneading her firm young breasts with his hands. He pierced her immediately, his big stiff prick sliding easily into her brimming cunt, and began fucking her with deep, powerful strokes. The Polish dancer started creaming almost immediately, so inflamed was she by the aphrodisiac she had been given. She threw her head back, mouth open in a soundless shriek of ecstasy; then she clutched the big hard body closely to her, crossing her legs tightly above the rhythmically-jerking buttocks and raking the broad back with her hands clenched into talons. She seemed to ignore the weight of the guard's body, bucking underneath him like a mare being served, so that he was shaken from side to side as he fucked her. The wet slap of their bellies meeting together could be heard clearly throughout the dining-room.
As spasm after spasm ran through her body, the girl squeezed her furiously-working cunt round the Prussian's eager cock, so that he felt as though he were being masturbated by a skillful hand wearing a warm, moist glove of velvet. She was shouting out loud now, wordless cries of pleasure; and her heels began to drum on the guard's tensed buttocks with increasing vigor. Under the urgent kneading of the hot young cunt, the guard's prick swelled and lengthened till he almost swooned with the sensation. Suddenly, he gave a great cry, and burst into an orgasm of such intensity that his copious flood of rich, milky spunk overflowed from the Polish dancer's cunt, to glisten pearly-white along the in-sides of her slim silken thighs.
When the Prussian's orgasm finally drew to a close, he lay panting on top of the girl's sweat-soaked body, nuzzling almost affectionately at her neck and ear. Little tremors ran across his buttocks as the shrinking of his prick dragged his sensitive glans slowly down the girl's still-pulsing cunt.
Dr. Wirtz' injection was still working powerfully within the Polish dancer's body; and it was soon made very obvious that hunger was not to be assuaged by one man's ejaculation, however powerful. With an inarticulate cry and a jerk of her beautifully-muscled stomach, she drove the blonde guard's spent prick out of her body; then she turned immediately to a short, wiry, dark-faced man with a big seven-inch cock standing up almost past his navel. With a smile of complicity, he brought his head down to the firm, dancing breasts and started sucking the hard little acorns of her lust-swollen nipples, tonguing first one and then the other; his two hands went down to the girl's freely-offered crotch, to begin a maddening teasing, one stiff-held forefinger plunging in and out of the elastic ring of her arsehole, the other gliding up and down the length of her cunt, all slippery with the spunk of the Prussian guard.
The Polish dancer moaned with pleasure beneath him, bending her head to thrust her tongue within his ear as he sucked at her rigid nipples, her two hands playing gently with his stiff prick and swollen balls. With a purposeful grunt, the dark-faced guard abandoned the firm young breasts and rolled the girl over onto her stomach; then he seized her round the waist and raised her to her hands and knees. Immediately, she sank her torso forward and down, so that her butt jutted provocatively at the guard as he took his post behind her; then her slim hands came back between her legs, spreading the lips of her cunt for him so that the mouth of her vagina opened and released a thin trickle of spunk.
The muscles of his athletic body rippled as he seized the Polish dancer by her hips and drew her back onto him until his big prick had completely vanished into her eager body; then he jerked forward, so that his heavy balls were thrown upwards against the crimson button of her clitoris, before falling back to swing to and from between her widely-parted thighs. The girl shuddered all over her slim body at the prickly feel of the guard's crisp bush pressing between the cheeks of her butt, to tickle the sensitive lips of her half-opened arsehole at the end of each thrust of his powerful loins. As her orgasm built up within her, she reached back between her legs, one hand fondling his heavy scrotum, the other playing with the base of his thick cock as it shuttled in and out of her foaming cunt.
She was on the brink of orgasm, twitching all over her sweat-soaked body, when a huge Colossus of a Bavarian, too impatient to to wait his turn, knelt at her head and put his hands under her shoulders, raising her till her face was at the level of his crotch. Winding one hand into her hair, he held her head immobile; then with the other hand he forced her jaws open and drove the stiff club of his cock into the warm cavern of her mouth. The girl moaned in ecstasy at the feel of the two pricks inside her body; her muscles stiffened into the tingling rigidity immediately preceding orgasm; then she was spending violently, her face contorted into a mask of lust, eyes rolling aimlessly from side to side, and full lips pushed forward into a tight "Oo-shape" round the throbbing shaft of the huge guard who was fucking her steadily in the mouth.
Without warning, the dark-faced guard behind her burst into a shuddering, strangled "Aaargh!! " of ecstasy, and seized the girl's swinging breasts in his hands, twisting and kneading at them in a paroxysm of lust. His mouth set in a rictus of pleasure, he pumped into her like a stallion, spending so forcefully inside her body that his spunk spurted in floods into her pulsing womb. The feel of his orgasm inside her sent the Polish dancer half-frantic, and increased the intensity of her own spend; she lurched forward onto the stiff prick of the kneeling Bavarian, who drew his breath in with a hiss as he felt his glans thud against the back of her throat. Then her hands were behind him, working urgently at his buttocks, forcing them apart, so that her long forefingers might have free access to his sensitive arsehole-As he felt the two fingers opening his hole, to press inside and tease the soft lining of his rectum, the big Bavarian threw his head back and howled like a dog, so intense was his pleasure. Then he started pumping his loins back and forth with redoubled vigor, fucking the girl's avid clinging mouth until the hot spunk burst from his prick, to slide rapidly down her throat into her writhing belly, as if to complement the dark-faced guard's violent ejaculation in her cunt. As she felt the spunk pouring into her from both ends, the Polish dancer burst into an orgasm so shattering that her limbs buckled beneath her and her body fell to the floor; there was a loud, wet, schlurping sound as the two fleshy tubes of her mouth and cunt were dragged violently off the creaming pricks of the guards; then the girl was writhing on the floor, her body jerking like a netted fish in the delicious ecstasy of her spend, now rolling forward to crush her lovely breasts almost flat beneath her, now spreading her legs involuntarily as a fresh spasm ran through her, so that the fascinated officers had a perfect momentary view of her brimming cunt opening and closing as if trying to recapture the blobs of creamy spunk that were leaking from it in copious profusion.
The huge Bavarian and the smaller swarthy guard moved away from the rutting body, mouths open and panting with the intensity of the sensations they had experienced. Immediately half a dozen others moved forward, hands and tongues busy as they kissed and licked at her sweat-moist, shuddering body, sucking at her breasts, kneading her springy buttocks with greedy fingers, prodding into her cunt and arsehole, now with their tongues, now with their fingers. At one moment, two of the men each had two fingers buried in her cunt; and when they fell to frigging her out of phase-one hand going up while the other went down-the girl cried aloud in ecstasy-and on the instant a big firm prick lodged itself in her open mouth-
Then two guards frigged her on the nipples with the knobs of their rigid cocks, while two more doubled her legs over her head and fingered her half-open arsehole till it twitched at them invitingly-
At last, the guards seemed to agree instinctively among themselves that they had played long enough with the girl's naked body; and they began taking her two and three at a time, each striving to outdo the other in inventing some new and curious position in which to pour his spunk into the body-hole of his choice. One man stood up and had his companions lift the Polish dancer's body up along his own, facing him, so that she embraced him round the waist with her long slim legs; and when his prick was lodged deep within her arsehole, they bent her back till her head and shoulders were on the floor; and there she was straddled by another guard and forced to suck him off, while the first man frigged her on her defenseless clitoris as he buggered her. Then she was held spread-eagled in mid-air by wrists and ankles, like a starfish, while two guards fucked her in the mouth and cunt-
Under the influence of Dr. Wirtz' drug, she seemed to be almost perpetually in orgasm, sobbing and laughing as she spent, sucking avidly at the constantly-changing pricks offered to her mouth, fondling the heavy balls in the big hairy sacks, driving her pointed tongue deep into mouth or arsehole.
To their delight, the guards found that her supple dancer's body could adopt the most unusual and revealing positions. Twice running, they put her in the splits, supporting her only by her heels; one of the guards lay down on his back beneath her, and they lowered her down onto his upstanding cock; and then they imparted a rhythmical series of little jerks to her heels, so that the "spring" in her parted legs made her whole body bounce up and down on the impaling prick. They rolled her into a ball of naked flesh, so that her mouth almost met her cunt; and the big blonde Prussian who had had her first shuttled his prick between the two gaping mouths lying almost side by side, but at the end, he drove deep into her butt-hole for his orgasm. They made her play 'wheelbarrow', walking on her hands on the floor while a man pressed forward into her open crotch, holding her two thighs one on either side of his body-his prick thrust deep inside her, sometimes in her cunt, sometimes in her arsehole. They made her kneel on the floor and bend backwards till her head lay between her heels and her whole body formed a circle, belly outwards; and in this position one man fucked her so deeply that she felt his knob must be prodding against the prick thrust down her throat by a second guard; and two more of them frigged her on the nipples and the clitoris till she came very violently-
Even Dr. Wirtz' drug could not remain potent for ever against the effect of the continuing orgasms that racked the body of the Polish dancer. The end came when two men entered her cunt simultaneously, one from the front and one from behind, and fucked her till she fainted from sheer exhaustion. Even as she lay unconscious on the floor, the guards continued to possess her; one man would pull her legs high above her head and hold them wide apart while his companion took her in the gaping cunt or half-open arsehole-
Finally, when every guard had had her four times, and the slim naked body was covered with a haphazard pattern of pearly-white blobs of solidifying spunk, Major Wessel whispered in Captain Heinrich's ear. Heinrich rose to his feet and ordered his men to leave the senseless girl; when they had withdrawn, grinning self-consciously at the round of applause from the officers at the dining table, he touched a bell; two mess-waiters came in, carrying a light stretcher; they rolled the naked body of the Polish dancer onto this, and bore her slowly from the room.
The removal of the unconscious girl terminated the first part of the evening's entertainment-the "public orgy. " From now on, the officers would take their pleasures not collectively, but singly-or at the most, in pairs. Major Wessel knew that as soon as he released them, they would hurry over to the Women's Camp. The gate piquet would pass them through with knowing, half-envious smiles; and then they would make for Block C. He smiled inwardly as he pictured the scene there, when a dozen rampant pricks burst in, eager for cunt and mouth and arsehole.
For himself, more sophisticated pleasures were in store. When he reached the privacy of his quarters, he would find the Polish dancer waiting for himRestored to consciousness by a whiff of one of Dr. Wirtz' special concoctions, she would be lying spread-eagled on his bed, face down, her wrists and ankles strapped firmly to the four corners of the bed, and her spunk-streaked butt cocked up into the air by a hard pillow stuffed underneath her pelvis. She would be gagged; for the dignity of his position as Camp Commander demanded that the screams of women under torture should not be heard issuing from his quartersAnd balanced across her beautiful firm buttocks would be waiting the slim birch-rod-six thin whippy switches bound together, each plentifully bedecked with little buds as hard as stone-which he would use so carefully and so thoroughly upon her naked flesh. Major Wessel knew that the girl's reserves of strength had been almost completely exhausted by her orgy with the guards; she would suffer deliciously under his birch-rod; and in her anxiety to bring the agony to an end, she would be eager-eager-eager when he suggested a few amusing little preliminaries-a thorough tonguing inside his arsehole, and between his toes, perhaps; and then he would bugger her very forcefully, his hard belly smacking painfully against her martyred buttocks, all raw and bleeding from the birch. Within his uniform trousers, his stiff prick twitched against his stomach as he savored these delights in his mind.
The hum of conversation ceased as Major Wessel rapped on the table and rose to his feet. "Gentlemen, you may leave the dining-room!" he announced formally; then, with that air of easy camaraderie which made him an object of hero-worship among the younger officers, he added banteringly-"Have fun, boys!" Laughing and joking, the officers rose from the table and made their way out of the dining-room, calling out-"Goodnight, Major!-Goodnight!" in cheerful tones. He acknowledged their salutations with a wave of his hand, still standing in his place-"Goodnight! Goodnight!"; then he limped slowly towards the door, on his way to birch the Polish dancer's butt-
Yes, life at Camp Unterwald was not without its compensations, Major Wessel decided, as he imagined the Thwick!' of the thin switches biting home into the naked buttocks; and later, the rhythmic dancing of her arsehole round his impaling prick, drawing the last drop of spunk from his bursting balls-
As he left the room, he was humming another stave of 'Cousin Horst's song':"S. A. marschiert Mit ruhig festen schritt-"
* * *
THE MIRROR
Kirsten realized, with one part of her mind, that Raoul must have given her at least two drugs. She knew herself to be in a state of unnatural and artificial euphoria, where everything that was done to her seemed pleasant and amusing. Raoul had already birched her-not hard, but enough to set her butt on fire, so that even now, some thirty minutes later, the reddened skin throbbed and tingled when she clenched her buttock-muscles; but she felt no animosity towards him-it seemed right and proper that he should have done this to her. She knew that later in the evening she would be whipped again, much harder, and that this time her breasts would be punished also: she knew too that at the very end he would set her in the whipping-frame, upside down in an open X position, and flog her between her parted thighs with a little scourge of thin knotted cords. She knew that these things would happen, because Raoul had told her so, very explicitly. But she did not mind; the drug persuaded her that if this was what Raoul wished, she wished it too.
As for the other drug, there could be no doubt that at some time in the evening she had ingested a powerful dose of Spanish Fly, or yohimbine-she did not know exactly what Raoul was using these days. She could not recall when she had felt so deliriously randy, and even the memory of her two previous orgasms was enough to set her cunt twitching, most and velvety with the secretions of her lust.
She turned to her lover lying stretched out on the bed, and thrust her lithe body hungrily against his, rubbing her firm breasts vigorously against the crisp black hair on his chest, until the coral nipples hardened into little acorns of desire. She moaned, and fought her way into his mouth, her tongue urgent and probing.
Raoul smiled to himself as Kirsten writhed on top of him, her hands now tugging insistently at his prick. The bitch was really hot tonight! The blood surged steadily into his cock at the thought of what he was about to do to her, until he was standing stiff as a bar of iron, with his balls beginning to ache deliciously.
He rolled her gently to one side and got up from the bed. Kirsten's hands went instinctively to her rigid nipples, and the mane of ash-blonde hair rippled alluringly as she flung her head back; then tbe gray-green eyes closed in a frown of concentration as she teased the sensitive buds of her breasts, mouth half-open in a pant of desire.
Now Raoul's hands were on her body again, raising her to a sitting position, turning her towards the foot of the bed. She felt the old familiar gut-thrill in her loins, half lust, half fear, when she saw what he had done; the pier-glass was now standing like a sentinel at the foot of the bed, leaning slightly forward at the top as if anxious to get a better view of what would happen on the bed. Whatever it was, she knew that she was to be made to watch it; and again her stomach moved involuntarily as the gut-thrill gripped her.
"Kneel upright"-Raoul's whisper was more a suggestion than a command; but it seemed unthinkable that she should question his wishes in any way. Then the firm hands bent her slim body forward and down from the hips, until the ash-blonde head lay on the surface of the bed, and the pretty butt jutted up into the air, naked, defenseless, open. She shuddered when she felt Raoul's strong fingers at her arsehole, then cried out softly at the cold contact of the vaseline as he worked it inside her body; for now she knew what was going to be done to her. Again she was gripped by the gut-thrill as her imagination let her feel the strangely disturbing fullness in her rectum, as though she were endlessly voiding a large, smooth, comfortable turd; and then, at the end, when she began to cream, there would be that delicious inability to close her sphincter properly, and the maddening friction of the stiff prick sliding up and down her sensitive, twitching passage, prolonging her orgasm until she was ready to blow her mind.
Now Raoul was posing her, making her kneel at the edge of the bed, facing the mirror, knees wide apart. She raised her head, and found herself staring into the eyes of the Kirsten in the mirror; they were glittering with desire, and the open mouth was panting in the flushed, pretty face. Kirsten thought she looked very beautiful, and gave her a slight, almost imperceptible smile, which the girl in the mirror returned in friendly fashion. Behind her, Kirsten could see the mirror-Raoul; she knew what he was going to do to the girl's slim naked body, and again her loins thrilled, for she knew she would find the spectacle highly exciting.
Then the hands were at her shoulders again, bending her body forward so that she and the mirror-Kirsten almost bumped their heads together. She felt the bed shake as Raoul slid his body in from behind, moving feet first through the arch of her parted thighs, till his knees were just past her own, with his lower legs hanging down over the end of the bed. Then he was fussing with the mound of pillows behind him, arranging them at his back so that he could lie comfortably, half propped up.
Now she felt the hands on her hips, pulling her gently backwards, pressing her loins down as if to make her sit on her heels. Then the hard prick was stabbing blindly at her buttocks; and she could see the eyes and mouth of the mirror-Kirsten opening into round O's of alarm. But the hands were skillful, and went quickly to the lovely buttocks, holding them open to disclose the arsehole all slippery with the vaseline, guiding the knob of the hungry prick up to the little puckered hole, pulling the slim body down firmly onto the impaling rod.
There was a momentary twinge of pain, and she saw the girl in the mirror jerk her head back in discomfort; then the scratchy, prickling feeling of Raoul's wiry bush against her birch-reddened buttocks told her that he had buggered her to the hilt. She found herself shuddering with pleasure as the damp sheath of her rectum accommodated itself to the intruding rod of hard flesh; the mirror-Kirsten seemed to be enjoying it too-her nipples were standing hard and pointed on her small, firm breasts, and she was watching Kirsten intently through her big gray-green eyes.
Raoul's hands came round her body, to cup both pretty breasts; then he drew her back against his chest, and settled himself more comfortably against the mound of pillows at his back. He moved the ash-blonde head gently to one side, so that it rested against his shoulder; then he murmured "Watch!" and Kirsten knew that the delicious degradation of her body was about to commence again.
Raoul had judged the forward tilt of the pier-glass nicely, and she found that she could watch the mirror-Kirsten quite easily, without having to bend her head forward too uncomfortably. The slim white body looked most appealingly helpless in its widespread kneeling position astride Raoul's dark, muscular thighs, and bent right back so that the girl's whole front was offered defenseless, as if for sacrifice. The backward bend had combined with the spread of the thighs to open the pretty cunt most indecently; Kirsten could see the parted lips quite clearly, with their fringe of ash-blonde hair, and between them the fresh, deep pink of the interior, with the mouth of the vagina yawning half-open. The cunt was all moist, and looked most inviting; she pictured it as it would be shortly, writhing and twitching in a lovely long orgasm; the thought made her shiver deliciously, and she could have sworn that the cunt in the mirror twitched back at her in sympathy.
Raoul's arms had altered their position; one of them now lay across the lithe young body just below the breasts, clamping it firmly to Raoul's own; and as Kirsten watched in the mirror, she saw the other hand move down to part the ash-blonde bush, so that now the cunt was really naked and exposed. Then the forefinger came out, to play briefly along the length of the open, brimming slit, before moving up to the top to frig the defenseless clitoris, gently, steadily, inexorably, with almost clinical skill.
As the sensation mounted in her own body, she watched the mirror-Raoul working away diligently at his girl's naked body. Ah! but she must be finding it absolutely heavenly to be frigged like that, in that revealing position-see how the little mouth of her cunt was opening and shutting, as if it were shouting "Harder! Harder!" to the frigging forefinger! As if in answer to this thought, one of the mirror-Kirsten's hands left her breasts (she had been playing with her stiff, taut nipples in a completely abandoned fashion) and moved down to her open crotch, pressing Raoul's hand more firmly onto her twitching cunt. The girl seemed to want a closer contact, for she arched her loins upwards momentarily; and for a brief instant Kirsten could actually see the distended arsehole stretched like a pinky-brown mouth round the swollen shaft of the prick. Then she sank back onto her lover's body again, and the momentary glimpse of the actual penetration was cut off; now all that could be seen was, as before, a foreshortened view up the two pairs of thighs-the mirror-Raoul's inside, ending in the big hairy balls (now drawn up within the tightened scrotum, in readiness for the coming ejaculation); and outside, the girl's slim, nervous thighs, running back from the widely-separated knees to the red gash of her cunt (now in constant motion, and noticeably wet with her juices); above that, the rhythmically-moving hand-now with the girl's on top of it; then further back, and higher, the two firm breasts, and finally, above and beyond them, the pretty face with the mouth all twisted in the delicious agony of approaching orgasm, and the ash-blonde hair tossed every-which-way as the girl's head moved to and fro in her pleasure.
When he felt Kirsten's hand on his, Raoul moved his other hand down from her torso; carefully, he bent the slim fingers and thumb inwards to form a fist, leaving the pointing forefinger outside. Swiftly withdrawing his own frigging finger, he clasped Kirsten's hand under his; then he resumed the frigging of her clitoris-only now it was Kirsten's own finger that was in contact with her throbbing button. She appeared to have noticed nothing; very cautiously, he raised his hand from hers. To his delight, she continued mechanically at her task. With a satisfied smile, he returned his arm to its original position round her naked body, while his newly-freed hand went to the nipple that Kirsten had vacated.
There could be no doubt now that the girl in the mirror was close to orgasm. The gray-green eyes were staring back at Kirsten with a look of agonized expectation; the beautiful mouth was fixed in an open "O". Kirsten could hear the wordless cries of passion quite clearly now. The slim body was all damp with sweat, and in constant motion-she could see the mirror-Raoul using both arms now to restrain the sinuous writhing that threatened to wrench the impaled arsehole off his throbbing prick.
Kirsten found it very exciting to watch the girl in the mirror frigging herself with her finger. By now, the imminence of her orgasm was making her erk her loins up and down; and though her pose allowed little movement, she was managing to achieve perhaps half an inch of travel up and down Raoul's prick. Sometimes, when her loins went really high, Kirsten could just catch a glimpse of the arsehole as it shuttled to and fro on the big fleshy rod. She knew that the lips of the hole were being alternately sucked inwards and then pushed out in a pout: and for a while she tried to confirm this by inspection; but every time the exposure was too fleeting.
But now the cunt was clamoring for her attention, almost literally; the whole open gash seemed alive, rippling and twisting as she watched, fascinated; in addition, the open mouth seemed to be calling to her-it was going "Schlurp! Schlurp!" in an obscene, squelchy fashion as high up in the body the womb began opening and shutting under the influence of the coming orgasm.
The sound excited her unbearably and suddenly she knew she was about to take wings and fly off and in the mirror she could see the body all rigid now with the muscles standing out on the insides of the thighs and the cunt very red and frozen motionless-waiting, waiting, waiting and then everything exploding into violent motion, and she was away and up and up and up, and there was nothing to see now only to feel, to feel, to feel and it was very beautiful, yes, Raoul, Raoul, very beautiful-oh God, oh God, oh!
* * *
"DEAR ABBY-"
Dear Abby, I am in rather a quandary over something that's happened at home, and I'd be very glad of your advice.
My father died last week; and after the funeral, while my step-mother's attention was taken up with relations and visitors, I went to his study and opened up the little secret wall-cupboard hidden in the paneling, that only he and I knew about.
Not really to my surprise, I found five or six pieces of my mother's jewelry, all neatly boxed, and each carrying a little label in my father's handwriting, and signed by him, reading "To go to Jo Ann. " There was also a personal letter from my father to me; and this, too, I had been more or less expecting to find.
What I had not been expecting was one of those black plastic albums for Polaroid photographs, the sort with a string of eight transparent "envelopes" inside, designed to take the prints from one complete color pack; and there they were, all eight of them, running in sequence. They showed a man and a woman together, in most explicit detail; and Abby, I'm afraid I'll have to describe them to you, or else you won't be able to advise me properly.
In tbe first one, the woman, quite naked was sitting on a couch, being made ready for torture by the man (also quite naked, and in a state of high erection). She was wearing black leather cuffs strapped around her wrists and ankles; these had metal snap-hooks built into them, and he was using them to attach her to a metal spreader-bar some three to three and a half feet long. The bar carried steel eyelets at either end; and the man had already attached her ankles and one wrist, by snapping the hooks onto the eyelets; the left ankle and left wrist at one end of the bar, and the right ankle at the other end; and he was just drawing the woman's right hand into the proper position for attachment.
She was of course sitting with her legs drawn up, since her wrists and ankles were pinioned together; and they were widely parted, because of the length of the bar; thus she was exposing herself quite fully. She was looking at the man with her eyes and mouth wide open; and for the life of me I couldn't decide whether she was crying out in horror, or just looking at him in stunned surprise, or saying "Oh, goody! goody!" with a sly half-smileit was that sort of expression. About the man there was no doubt-he was grinning with a mixture of lust and self-congratulation-a look which marred his otherwise quite handsome features.
In the second picture, she had been rolled over onto her back, and then pulled to the edge of the couch so that her tightly bent buttocks jutted out a couple of inches over the edge. The photo had been taken frontally, so that her sexual parts were staring at one out of the picture, all wide open and distended. Her face was foreshortened; but it seemed to wear a look of anguish, and again the mouth was open. This time it looked as if she were crying out in protest; but to offset this, the nipples of her breasts were quite noticeably hard and erected, as though she were obtaining sexual gratification from her humiliating position. A small trolley had been pushed up close to the couch; and this clearly carried the instruments that were to be used on her naked body.
The man appeared to be talking in a gloating fashion to his victim; he was holding a leather strap which he had just picked up from one end of the trolley, and was pointing to it with his other hand as he spoke-doubtless extolling its virtues as a pain-producer. Next to it, ranged in an orderly row, lay a red rubber glove, a bunch of fresh green stinging-nettles, a small scourge consisting of six thin knotted cords springing from a stout wooden handle some six or eight inches long, a leather thong, loosely coiled, which looked to be about two feet in length, a jar of vaseline, and what looked like a black and white silk flag, perhaps four inches by three, mounted at the top of a foot-long 'flagpole' made from a smooth wooden rod about half an inch thick-
In the third picture, the punishment had started; the man was flogging the woman's thighs and buttocks with the short leather strap, and she was displaying her pain and anguish in unmistakable fashion-the head thrown back and to one side, to show her face all contorted in a grimacing shout, the hands and feet writhing and twisting in fruitless efforts to escape their bonds. Her tormentor had dealt effectively with her left thigh and buttock, which were a startling, angry red against the pale creamy ivory of the rest of her body; and when the picture was taken he was perhaps halfway through the task of reddening the right buttock. He was quite startlingly male in his erection, standing legs a-straddle and knees slightly bent, his left hand on the spreader-bar to hold his target steady. Once again, her nipples were quite clearly standing erect, as though she were enjoying herself; and Abby, it's perfectly possible to produce the same angry red effect by using theatrical rouge (I know, because I tried it on my own body, on the front of my right thigh; and then I hit myself very hard on the front of my left thigh with a leather strap like the one the man was using in the photograph-and both thighs looked exactly the same).
So far, then, there was nothing to say the punishment wasn't genuine; but equally, nothing to say that it was-
However, the fourth picture must have been genuine. This time, the woman was being birched with the bunch of stinging-nettles; and although her thighs and buttocks were an even red from the strap, somehow there was no difficulty at all in discerning which part of the target had been visited by the nettles. The 'light and shade' effect of the little bumps produced by the nettle-rash was quite unmistakable. And as far as I can see, there's no way of faking that nettle-rash, nothing but an actual sting from a nettle gives those angry hot-looking little bumps; so I'm convinced-albeit somewhat unwillingly-that the woman really was being nettle-birched. Now here's the puzzling thing, Abby! Once again, her nipples were swollen and erect, as if she were sexually aroused; and the expression of agony on her face really looks no different from that in the previous picture, where I'm satisfied that the strapping could have been faked.
In the fifth picture, the man was using the little scourge of knotted cords; and once again, the woman appeared to be in the greatest of pain, which would be perfectly natural if the scene were genuine. This time, the picture showed a stroke actually landing on the woman's body; the man was whipping her from the left-hand side of the picture (her right, as she lay on her back) and had just delivered a stroke not quite directly into her crotch; four of the six thongs had fallen high up on the scarlet, nettle-rashed thigh, with their ends curling round the thigh and running out of sight; and the other two little knotted cords ran across her open vulva, with the ends disappearing into her pubic hair.
If the blow were genuine, she would have been screaming at the top of her voice-as indeed she appeared to be. But I proved to my own satisfaction and on my own body that the whole scene could easily have been faked. A grease-paint pencil duplicated the thin streaks made by the cords hissing down onto the naked flesh, and little dots served perfectly for the marks left by the knots. As to the impression of the cords actually biting into the flesh, I found it was possible to tape the six ends down to my skin (remember, these ends were out of sight in the picture); and then a slight downward pull in the right direction would make indentations in the soft flesh that looked exactly as though a severe blow was actually landing.
In the sixth picture, the woman was being whipped with the short leather thong; half a dozen blows had been delivered across her buttocks, and the man was now working down the inside of her right thigh, obviously with the intention of whipping her on her private parts, and then up the left thigh. Once again, she was depicting extreme agony-head raised, eyes bulging with horror as she stared urgently at her tormentor, mouth opened in a screamed plea for mercy. Once again, the whip was shown actually biting into the flesh of the naked inner thigh; and once again, Abby, I convinced myself by experiment that this particular effect could have been produced by 'anchoring' the tip of the thong deep in the fold between the woman's doubled-back thigh and her belly, and then pulling gently downwards to indent the flesh as the picture was taken; while the welts from the eight or ten whip-strokes already delivered were easily duplicated with grease-paint.
That ended the flagellation part of the series; the remaining two photographs were purely sexual.
In the seventh, the man had plunged the wooden 'flag-pole'-well-greased, if the open jar of vaseline were to be believed-deep into the woman's rectum. The little silk flag now proved to be a pirate's skull and crossbones, which looked most bizarre, projecting from the woman's well-whipped, scarlet buttocks. I would guess, from a comparison with the second picture, that at least six inches of the pole lay within her body. The man was holding the top of the rod delicately between thumb and forefinger; and one could almost swear that he was rotating it gently back and forth inside her. With the forefinger of the other hand, he was teasing at her clitoris, which was standing rigid from his attentions. The woman's face was flooded with lust, and she looked quite beautiful in a most obviously earthy way; there could be no doubt that she was on the point of bursting into orgasm.
In the eighth and final picture, the man was possessing the woman. His big stiff member was sunk halfway into her vagina, and the coating of shiny mucous secretion on the visible part of his penis showed clearly that he was plumbing her to the very hilt (the penetration was only visible, of course, by virtue of his being halfway out of her body; nothing would have been seen in the picture if he had driven fully home within her). With his right hand, he was holding her steady, gripping her firmly round the ankle; his left hand had stolen forward between her parted legs, and was busily engaged in teasing one of her nipples as he copulated with her.
Abby, the whole series had been most skillfully done; and the progression through the various stages of the whipping, to the final abandon of the sexual possession, looked utterly convincing. But (as I have tried to bring out in my description) I am left with the big question, 'Was the punishment genuine, or faked?' You may ask me, "What does it matter, Jo Ann?" My answer merely uncovers a fresh enigma, even more horrid than the actual pornographic photographs themselves. Abby, though the man in the pictures is a total stranger, the woman is my stepmother, Nicole! There can be no doubt about this, no doubt whatsoever; and it is equally certain that the series was taken within the last six months, for about that time Nicole had a verruca cut out of the sole of her right foot, and the little scar is clearly visible in all the photographs.
Leaving that particular conundrum aside for the moment, how did the album come to be in Father's safe? Some very disturbing questions arise here. Obviously, he knew that his wife had been sexually tortured (either in earnest, or in sham) by another man-the eight photographs would show him this. Now, if the thing had been done without his knowledge or approval, I would have expected him to have flown into a violent rage with Nicole when he found out about it, and thrown her out, or at least given her a good hiding-and to have beaten up the man as well. But there was no sign of any discord between them in the past six months, Abby, so I don't think that can be the answer. Certainly, he would never have accepted the thing as a fait accompli, and just suffered in silence, saying nothing; he simply wasn't that sort of a man. Nor do I see him holding the photos as evidence against her-as a lever, perhaps, with which to blackmail her into giving him the same license as she had done to the unknown stranger; for in this case I don't think their relationship could have remained as easy and friendly as I saw it to be.
Furthermore, the photographs were the originals, straight from the Polaroid camera, and not copies; so how would Father have got hold of them? Nicole would hardly have given them to him-nor would the man. This postulates an unknown camera-man, taking sexy pictures of Nicole and her lover, with their full approval-merely to hand them to Father. That simply doesn't make sense!
I can only conclude, Abby, that Father knew all about the torture-session; and the simplest explanation of his possessing the photos is, I'm afraid, that he took them himself. And if he took them himself, then I think that he probably arranged the session; and I think, too, that Nicole must have been a willing victim-(for she was obviously happy with Father, which surely she wouldn't have been if he'd had her whipped against her will?)
I don't suppose the identity of the man who whipped her matters much; and obviously I shan't find out why Father let a stranger do those things to her, unless she tells me herself.
And this is where I want you to advise me, Abby. How do I approach Nicole? How do I find out whether her whipping was genuine or faked? Please tell me as fully as possible how I can broach the subject to her without embarrassment. Truly, this is of the greatest importance to me; for ever since I saw those wonderful photographs, I have known that I SIMPLY MUST HAVE THE SAME THINGS DONE TO ME; and clearly, Nicole is the indicated place to start.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Yours sincerely, Jo Ann.
* * *
"THE RUSSIANS ARE COMING-"
"The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!" The news spread like wildfire through our village; and we of the Red Youth Brigade donned our armbands and set about our appointed tasks.
The Chief of Police was Georgi's uncle-a decent old stick really; and we had little trouble persuading him that he and his five men were sadly outmatched even by us boys of the Brigade, let alone the detachment of Russian troops who were scheduled to arrive within the hour. They must have been expecting something of this sort; for all of them had brought suitcases and civilian clothes to the police station; and less than twenty minutes later the battered village police car clattered out from behind the station and turned west, towards the capital where officials of the regime that was being overthrown could perhaps hope to sink into anonymity, and evade the eyes of the country's new masters.
The Mayor had already left-wisely; he was hand in glove with Count Tatarescu up at the Castle, and nothing could have saved him from a hanging. We told the Village Councilors that they had nothing to fear, either from us or from the Russians-they were harmless figureheads, mere puppets in the hands of the Mayor and his evil genius, the Count.
That left only the Castle to be dealt with; and even the most headstrong among us knew that the Russians wanted that family kept alive. No drumhead court-martial for the Tatarescus! No, for them a full-dress ceremonial trial as 'enemies of the state', 'tools of Western imperialism', 'capitalist hyenas'; the usual set of unflattering accusations (but in this case, all true to the very last letter).
So Mihai gave us our instructions-a road-block at the Castle gates, to deny the possibility of escape by road, either in the Count's powerful Mercedes, or in young Carol's blood-red Ferrari; and a cordon round the Castle grounds, to prevent an escape on foot. This latter task strained the Bridgade's resources severely-for the grounds were very large-until a young under-gardener (who was one of us) came out with the news that the Count had left for the capital the night before; young Carol was dead drunk in the salon with his mistress; the Countess and her two daughters had locked themselves into a bedroom; and all the staff had already slipped out and disappeared, fearful lest mere association with the hated Tatarescus might earn them a one-way ticket to Siberia when the Russians came.
When we heard this news, we drew in close round the Castle, watching the doors and windows in case any of the occupants should attempt to escape. But no one did, and very soon we heard the harsh clatter of tracked vehicles coming up from the village, and three armored personnel carriers swept into the Castle courtyard. The Russians had arrived-some three dozen of them-short, Asiatic-looking men with squat, sullen faces; only the two officers who led them-a Captain and a Lieutenant, from their shoulder-boards-were European in appearance; in our innocence, we thought them less dangerous than their men.
Mihai told the Captain what we had learned from the under-gardener. The news of the Count's flight clearly angered him, but he dealt with us civilly enough. Six of us were to stay at the Castle, he said, the others were to return to the village and set up a twenty-four-hour guard over the railway station, the granary, and the general store in the square, where the telephone was. Then he took a squad of men in through the side door which the under-gardener had left unlocked; and so the Russians took possession of Castle Tatarescu. But not unopposed, for as I followed the Russian soldiers in towards the front of the Castle, with Georgi at my side, we heard a loud altercation ahead of us; then there were two shots, and a woman's scream.
Count Tatarescu's son Carol had heard the arrival of the Russian soldiers, and when he realized they were actually in the Castle he sprang up in a drunken frenzy, produced a pistol, and went out to meet them, shouting out insults and ordering them to leave. Then he had raised his pistol and fired at them, only to be immediately and scientifically drilled through the shoulder by the Russian Captain. He staggered back, and fell to the floor, while his mistress screamed in terror.
The Russian was quiet unperturbed. He had two of his little Tartar soldiers pick the now-unconscious Carol up from the floor, then he ordered one of us to accompany them as a guide and within a few minutes one of the personnel carriers was on its way down to the village to deliver the wounded man to a Russian Field Hospital.
Now there were just the four women left in the Castle: Countess Tatarescu, her daughters Elena and Maria, and her son Carol's blonde mistress. A word to the Lieutenant sent him up to the locked bedroom with a handful of soldiers. There was a thud, a crash as the door went down, a chorus of screams, and then the Tatarescu women were being shepherded downstairs by the grinning soldiery and driven into the salon where we were waiting with the terrified blonde girl.
Mihai had gone back to the village, leaving me in charge of the half-dozen of us who had stayed at the Castle. Now the Captain looked at me with a not unfriendly grin. "We shan't want this one," he said, flicking his thumb contemptuously at Carol's girl. "We shall be about an hour interrogating these Fascist bitches," he gestured at the Countess and her daughters, "and I suggest you take the opportunity of enjoying her. She's been making her living with her body up to now, and after Intelligence have finished with her she'll go into one of our Field Brothels. So you'll be doing her a kindness, boys, she's got to get used to being fucked by more than one man at a time!"
We needed no urging. Carol's tart was no friend of ours. She had a habit of complaining to the Count, every time she drove through the village, that one or other of us had insulted her with an overbold look, an indecent gesture, a whistle; and Tatarescu made trouble for us for he despised us as much as we despised him. So now, when the Russian Captain waved us towards the Count's study lying off the salon, the six of us crowded happily round the unfortunate girl and drove her before us, eyes sparkling with lust. Inside the study we fell upon her as one man, and stripped her naked as the day she was born; and she was a beautiful girl! She was a true blonde, with lovely long slim legs and a trim little waist, and a pair of firm springy breasts that would have put a cock-stand on a statue.
For a while, we amused ourselves by playing with her, forming a circle round her naked body and making her run from one to another of us, pinching, fondling, slapping her as she passed, till she was sobbing with pain and shame, and her breasts and thighs and buttocks were marked with red splotches where we had been less than gentle with her.
I had formed a healthy respect for the Russian
Captain; and when he said 'one hour', I imagined he meant just that. I did not want the whole of our time with the blonde to be taken up with pinching her on the bottom, so I called a halt to the proceedings and suggested we should move on to more intimate attentions.
This pleased all of us, and it was agreed that we should each have her once, and then we would get down to punishing her for her past behavior to all of us in the village, Andrej, the under-gardener, knew where to find cord to bind her, and thin whippy canes that were used to train the vines.
I was still worried about the clock, so I proposed that we should take her three at once; everybody laughed and cheered at this (except the blonde, who seemed to find the idea distasteful-but who cared about her, anyway?)
Georgi and Andrej and I went first. None of us bothered to strip; we just dropped our trousers and our underpants-and there we all were, more than ready for action! The sight of the three erect pricks waiting for her seemed to bring the reality of the situation home to her (though I didn't see what else she could have expected, after having been forced to run the gauntlet between six young men all reveling in the feel of her naked body); for she put her hands over her face and started to sob, until I lost my patience and gave her a resounding slap across the firm, elastic flesh of her butt, so that she jumped in the air with a cry of pain, and I was left with stinging fingers and a throbbing cock.
By now, Georgi had pulled the Count's day-bed out from the wall and was lying on it on his back, his stiff cock standing upright and twitching gently. The rest of us lifted the terrified blonde and installed her in a kneeling position, her long legs straddling his body so that when she was made to sit back on her heels she would impale herself neatly on his waiting prick. She looked very lovely at that moment, with two of the lads holding her arms twisted round behind her back, and playing with the hard little nipples of her breasts, and Georgi's hands at work in her silky blonde bush, smoothing it away to each side to leave the road clear for his cock to penetrate her cunt.
Then I stepped forward, and stood by the side of the couch. "Wet me, bitch!" I said curtly to her, and held my cock out towards her. Hesitantly, she bent her head down to it (for she knew very well what she must do. Being mistress to Carol was no job for a blushing violet!); but she stopped just above my straining ruby knob, and began moaning, "No! No, please--. " I slapped her once across the face, hard, and that was enough. Her pretty mouthed worked as she made saliva, then her tongue came out, and she was moistening me all along my length in a most delightful fashion.
I let her keep working at me even after I was fully ready; but then the other two started to grumble, so I stepped away and swung myself up onto the couch right close behind her, kneeling astride Georgi just as she was doing. Then I signed to the two boys holding her, and they bent her torso forward and down, so that her butt opened to reveal the little puckered hole I was going to plumb. My cock was all slippery with her saliva, and when I pushed the head against her arsehole it slipped inside easily enough, though the blonde cried out in protest; but I put my hands on her trim hips and drew her back onto me, corkscrewing my loins at the same time so that I moved deeper and deeper into the tight elastic sheath of her rectum. Then I sank back onto my heels, and drew her back and down with me; and Georgi's prick was waiting for her. She gave a wail of despair as she felt herself being penetrated, for the presence of my prick in her arsehole reduced the space available for this new intruder, so that Georgi's penetration felt to her like a brutal rape. I myself nearly came as his hard rod pushed up into her cunt and rubbed along my own prick; and then he was fully home inside her, and I could feel him twitching through the thin, well-stretched membrane that lay between her cunt and arsehole.
Then Andrej mounted the couch, and knelt astride Georgi's head, facing us; and I pushed her down by her shoulders until Andrej's big stiff prick was jabbing her in the face. She tried to resist this last indignity, but in vain, for I leaned forward and put my arms round her, and grasped her breasts; then I hissed in her ear, "Suck him, bitch!" twisting her firm tits and pulling at her nipples until she obeyed.
And then I pulled her upwards by the nipples, so that she had to raise her body to ease the sudden pain; and the movement dragged her two holes six inches up along our pricks, and simultaneously Andrej moved his loins back so that his cock shuttled outwards between her lips. Then I pulled her nipples sharply downwards; and she sat back onto our cocks, and I could feel her body shudder as cunt and arsehole slid down our two hard rods. Andrej thrust his pelvis forwards at the same moment. Up! Down! Up! Down! In! Out!-on and on we went, till I could feel my prick growing ever more and more rigid; then it began to tingle, and I knew I was about to come, and the tingling spread like a rising tide all over my body. Finally I shuddered all over as my spunk burst from me, and I was spending-spending-spending deep inside the blonde's fresh young arsehole; and I could feel Georgi's prick jerking rhythmically just the other side of the thin membrane as he too shot his spunk high into the lovely body of our unwilling captive.
Although the bodily pleasure of Carol Tatarescu's tart could not have been further from our minds, I was rather glad to find that her orgasm happened to arrive at the same time as ours; for it was more exciting for us to be spending into a body that was itself twitching and jerking vigorously as a result of our attentions to it.
Then we withdrew from her, and her body was all pink-flushed and moist with perspiration, and she was shuddering from her orgasm, and there was a little dribble of Andrej's spunk running down from one corner of her mouth; and below, her thighs were wet from Georgi and myself, and she smelt deliciously of spunk and sweat, all over; and when our three mates had finished with her, we were going to cane her on her naked butt! I licked my lips at the thought.
We wiped our limp pricks dry on the blonde's silk underwear, as the other three moved forward to take their turn, then we pulled our trousers up, and prepared to watch the fun. I asked Andrej to fetch the cord and canes. As he left, he beckoned me to one side and led me to a pair of ivory miniatures on the wall. He moved one of them aside, to disclose a small peephole.
"I used to look after the flowers on the ground floor," he said, "and one day I caught the Count looking through this. He flew into a rage with me for coming in without knocking, but I pretended I hadn't seen anything. It goes through to the salon, and I reckon he was watching Carol fuck that blonde bitch back there," he jerked his head towards the couch, where the girl was uttering little cries as the other three took possession of her body.
I looked through the peephole and obtained a perfect view of the two Russian officers seated at a table, before which Countess Tatarescu was standing between two of the Asiatic soldiers. Though she was little more than 40, she looked an old woman as she struggled helplessly against hre pitiless inquisitors. Behind her, her two daughters waited their turn, pale-faced with anxiety. They were pretty girls, red-haired, with green eyes that slanted ever so slightly upwards at the outer corners. Elena must have been 19, no more; and Maria a year younger, perhaps two.
I could hear little through the peephole. Once I heard the Countess cry out vehemently, "No! No, I did not!" and then the deep voice of the Russian Captain continued, though I could not distinguish his words, or even the drift of his questioning. He spoke our language perfectly; and one thing I knew, I was glad I was a member of the Red Youth Brigade, and not a political prisoner being interrogated by him!
I turned back towards the scene in the study, and watched the girl being taken in mouth and cunt and arsehole by our second three, and suddenly, for the first time in my life, I found myself wishing I had as much money as Carol Tatarescu, so that I might buy a pretty blonde girl to serve my lusts, as he had done.
As she started gulping down the jetting flood of spunk from the prick thrust deep into her mouth, Andrej returned with a length of cord and half a dozen thin, springy, fibrous canes, freshly cut, each about three feet in length. I hid these behind the Count's desk, until such time as we had her securely bound; for I felt we had no time to waste in the futile struggling which I was sure would take place if she knew what was in store for her.
When the other three had recovered from their satisfying spend, I explained what I wanted a certain special 'tie' I had discovered in a French pornographic book, which seemed to me to offer excellent possibilities. Then we advanced on the slim body lying exhausted on the couch after the two triple rapes we had inflicted on it.
The girl stared dully at us as we raised her to a sitting position on the couch. Then we drew her heels up to her crotch, crossing her legs at the ankles and pulling her knees apart, so that she was sitting in the traditional 'tailor position'. Next we took her arms, and fed them down inside her parted thighs, making her hunch her shoulders together and drop her torso forward so that she could pass her hands and forearms out to the front, underneath her calves; we pulled them well out forward, so that her crooked elbows fitted snugly behind the angle of there knees, and then we drew her hands together, above her crossed ankles.
Already she was almost completely helpless-for in that particular position, it is quite impossible to exert any muscular leverage, but she did not know this yet, and it was not until I cast a clove hitch over her left wrist that she attempted to struggle. Her efforts were of course in vain, and my mates held her firmly while I threw a second hitch over her other wrist; then I worked the loops along until the connecting cord had gone as short as I could get it. Her wrists were now within two inches of each other, and I wound the cord a few times between them in a figure-of-eight, to make the binding stiff, and then tied the ends in a good firm reef knot.
For a while, nobody realized the beauty of this devilishly simple tie and my companions began to voice their puzzlement at seeing the girl just sitting there, apparently at her ease. Then I put one finger in the centre of her forehead and pushed gently, till she rolled over onto her back. Now they saw!-and there was a spontaneous outburst of laughter and clapping from my boys, while the blonde's eyes and mouth opened wide in shocked surprise at this new and highly dangerous predicament in which she suddenly found herself.
She was holding her own legs doubled right back, and widely opened, so that her cunt and butt-hole stared brazenly at us from between her parted thighs and buttocks; and strive as she might, the highly efficacious tie denied her all possibility of useful movement. She could flap her hands, wag her feet, and move her head to and fro, but that was all; nor was there the slightest chance of her being able to release herself (though it took some time before this fact sank in).
I signed to Georgi, and together we took her by the hips and dragged her to the edge of the couch, so that her butt jutted out an inch or so. The lovely curves of her thighs and buttocks were now beautifully displayed, and for a moment or so we all stroked and fondled the warm smooth flesh, now tickling her half-open arsehole, now nipping gently at her exposed clitoris, till she started shivering and moaning in her excitement. Then I drew out the bundle of canes from behind the desk, and held them up in front of her-
Her eyes grew round with horror. "No-, " she whispered. "No-no-please, no-no!" She was screaming at the end, and now she really tried to free herself from the 'tailor position' tie. Each of us drew a cane from the bundle; then I positioned myself to one side of her, with the others forming a line behind me. I raised my arm-
Zzzlllkkk! I felt my prick leap within my trousers as the exciting springy feel of the rebounding cane traveled up my wrist and arm. I had hit her right at the top of the thighs, about half an inch below the sudden swell of her buttocks, and already two lovely red welts had formed on her naked flesh. Even before she began to scream, her cunt seemed to contract, and twitch vigorously two or three times. There was no extra flesh on her slim thighs and her legs were so widely opened and so well doubled back that her cunt was insufficiently protected; my blow had sent the cane biting down into the elastic flesh of her thighs, which had been depressed sufficiently to let the cane catch her painfully across the cunt lips-not, of course, with the full force of my stroke, but enough to make her writhe with pain at the very centre of her womanhood.
Zzzlllkkk! Andrej's stroke hissed home squarely across the beautifully-rounded buttocks, and the girl's body jerked violently on the couch as two burning weals sprang up on her trembling butt.
Zzzlllkkk! Her face contorted in a grimace of agony as Georgi's cane bit down into her thighs, just below where I had hit her; she burst into a paroxysm of tears, sobbing bitterly and uncontrollably on a descending scale of, "Oh-oh-oh!" as the pain washed over her-
Zzzlllkkk! Zzzlllkkk! Zzzlllkkk! The rest of the queue moved forward, each in turn using his full strength to whip the beautiful naked body lying helplessly in the highly-vulnerable 'tailor position'.
The first round of six strokes was now complete and Carol's cool, haughty, blonde mistress no longer looked so self-composed-though I had seldom seen her look so inviting! She was shuddering uncontrollably under the pain that surged through her body and her hands waved feebly in a ceaseless weaving pattern above her crossed ankles; around the six double welts across her thighs and buttocks, the flesh had turned an angry red, and had swollen so that it looked all shiny where the light fell on it. Her eyes were red and puffy from weeping, and her nose was running.
I ran my fingers lightly over the hot lumpy ridges on her naked flesh. She cringed under my touch, and once again I felt my prick stiffen. I gave my instructions quickly-we would frig her into orgasm while she sucked three of us off. I knelt down beside her body and waved the others to the couch, except for Georgi, whom I beckoned to my side. The boys needed no further urging; and I grinned to see the eagerness with which the first one vaulted onto the couch and knelt with knees widely parted astride the hunched-up body of the girl, facing away from her, and positioning himself so that when he dropped his buttocks down and back, his prick thrust imperiously against her face. Willing hands forced her jaws open and thrust the stiff rod into her mouth; and then he was fucking her vigorously in the face, while she voiced her protests in feeble "Nnngnnggs" that were half-stifled by the big pistoning rod of flesh.
I signed to Georgi to tickle her clitoris, then I put out a probing forefinger, and slid it gently into her half-open arsehole. She jerked violently at the sudden delicious intrusion; as I started a steady in-and-out movement, she repeated this unconsciously with her head, jerking it up and down on the couch-and of course doubling the sensations of the boy fucking her in the mouth, so that he came with a gasping cry of ecstasy, flooding her mouth with spunk and almost choking her as she struggled desperately to swallow his copious spend.
She herself came just as the second boy was approaching his climax. Her cunt had been growing steadily moister as Georgi and I played with her, and its color had darkened and become a richer red as the blood suffused the whole area in preparation for the coming orgasm. We saw it twitch purposefully, two or three times; and as I felt the elastic ring of her arsehole biting at my forefinger, I pushed my hand down till it could go no further between the quivering, whip-marked buttocks. Then she went rigid for perhaps five tense seconds and we could see her hands and feet 'freeze', toes and fingers widespread in an ecstasy of sensation as the electric tension gripped her body. She was spending gloriously, jerking and shuddering on the couch as the waves of pleasure coursed through her.
Above, the lad fucking her in the face exploded with a startled cry as he felt himself violently attacked by the urgently-working mouth moaning "Nnng-nng!" with lust around his big swollen prick. Below, Georgi and I watched fascinated as the red gash writhed and twisted under our eyes as if it had a life of its own, the soft vagina-mouth opening and closing rapidly as it dribbled its musk-smelling liquid out over the plump cunt lips with their fringe of blonde hair, while the warm sheath of her rectum contracted rhythmically around my forefinger with seemingly boundless energy.
She was still coming when the third boy pushed his exhausted companion out of the way and straddled her to thrust his prick into her mouth, but the frenzy drained slowly out of her, so that by the end she was lying passively in her bonds, her sweat-soaked body shivering from time to time as the kneeling youth pumped his loins up and down above her face. And when he came, she swallowed him down almost mechanically, with only a faint moan of protest at the back of her throat.
"All right, lads!" I said. "Pick up your canes and form line again!" Her mouth opened in a wordless cry of protest, and she writhed helplessly on the bed; then she was screaming very loudly. Andrej's cane had whipped in across her butt with a satisfying-zzzlllkkk! She had shifted position just as he was delivering his stroke, so that the cane struck her at an angle. This new welt crossed the three stripes left on her buttocks from the first whipping, (the other three being on her thighs) and in the three places where the marks crossed two on her left buttock, and the other, lower down, on the right-the skin had been broken so that the bruised flesh glistened red and moist with oozing blood.
Zzzlllkkk! Zzzlllkkk! Two more strokes drew two shrieks of agony from our blonde victim. I nodded my head approvingly; for I myself had been whipped six times on my bare butt by Georgi's uncle's grinning apes of policemen, after a specious complaint from the blonde bitch who now lay naked on the couch before me, and I knew from experience just how painful a whippy cane can be, across the naked flesh.
Zzzlllkkk! Zzzlllkkk! I had put myself at the end of the queue this time, and now, as I stepped forward to take my turn at the panting, pain-racked body, my five companions gathered round to watch me deliver the sixth and final stroke of the round. I inspected my target carefully. The whole surface of her butt and thighs was crisscrossed with angry red welts and the skin had broken in another half-dozen places, but it seemed to me that my original first stroke had escaped attention during this second round of whipping. I decided I would remedy that.
Zzzlllkkk! My cane hit her at quite an angle from the horizontal, for I had delivered my stroke with my hand as low as possible, so that the welt ran more or less upwards, from midway on her right buttock, to finish up on her left thigh. This time, I had caught her really smartly across the cunt; and already both lips had puffed up into angry red lumps where the cane had hit.
The girl screamed like one demented under the atrocious pain, till I said to Georgi, "Get up there and stop her!" He jumped onto the couch and plunged his prick into her open mouth, thus muffling her piercing cries. Then, just as I was giving Andrej instructions about the way I wanted her frigged, the door opened and the Russian Captain strode into the study-
"Bozhe moy!" he said in Russian, "what are you young devils doing to her?" He broke off as he saw the naked body doubled up in the delightful 'tailor position' that I had copied from the pornographic book. His eyebrows went up at the sight of the bruised, bleeding buttocks, and the canes, and Georgi kneeling over the girl's head with his prick thrust deep into her mouth.
"Well, well!" he continued in our language, as he examined the cord around her two wrists. "Highly ingenious, I must say!" He patted the girl's butt gently. She jumped with apprehension, so that Georgi drew in his breath with a hiss at the sudden movement of her mouth upon his prick. "Yes, highly ingenious-but that's enough with the cane, I'm afraid. I'm sorry to spoil your fun-but we do want to use her ourselves and if you knock her about any more, she won't be fit for work for a week!"
He stooped and collected the canes into a bundle. "Anyway, this solves one problem," he went on. "I was going to send this lad here"-he pointed to Andrej-"to see if he could find me something just like this"-he took a cane in his hand and made it sing through the air. "The old Tatarescu bitch won't talk, so I thought I'd try the effect of making her puppies yelp a little, right before her eyes. I don't imagine they know anything worthwhile themselves, but we'll see how long their mother will last out when they start howling! Besides, why should you young buggers get all the fun?" He grinned at us in a friendly way, then he raised the cane he was holding, and poked gently at the girl's arsehole with the end of it, so that she cried out in sudden ear. "Delightful!" murmured the Russian. "And I do congratulate you on this-" he tapped his cane against the cord holding the girl's wrists together. Then he picked up the rest of the coil that Andrej had brought in, with the words, "I'll need this too," and went over to the door. With a wave of his hand, and a cheery, "You've got about another half-hour-have fun!" he was gone.
"Half an hour," I said. "Come, lads, we must hurry!" I signed to Andrej, who started rolling the girl's clitoris artfully between his finger and thumb, while one of his mates thrust a forefinger into her arsehole and a thumb into her cunt, so that he could massage the thin membrane separating her two holes. Then the other youth who was due to be sucked off with Georgi and myself joined me in replacing Georgi's prick into the girl's reluctant mouth.
She had not yet come when Georgi shuddered all over and shot his spunk deep into her mouth, but her cunt was beginning to twitch ominously round the intruding thumb, and I wasted no time in pulling the reluctant Georgi away from the lovely flushed face and replacing his prick with mine.
Her mouth was like soft velvet round my cock and I knew I could not hold out very long against the tremendously exciting sensation of her tongue lapping around the sensitive skin of my glans. As my two companions worked her to the brink of her own orgasm she grew more and more abandoned-no longer a captive victim being forcibly assaulted by her tormentors, but a willing participant in a shared act of mutually-satisfying lust; and once again I found myself envying the worthless Carol Tatarescu for his possession of this lovely piece of female flesh.
I could feel her whole body shudder as she came and then she was tormenting my prick with her furiously-shuttling tongue, sucking fiercely at me till I was deeper inside her than I would have thought possible, crooning a wordless song of "Mmmmmm-mmm" round my throbbing cock till finally I burst into a mighty orgasm that had me sobbing with ecstasy as I pumped my spunk in great jets deep down her throat.
Then the other lad was pulling at me with strong, insistent hands, and I felt myself curiously weak, and could not resist him as he rolled me unceremoniously to one side so that he might kneel in his turn astride the blonde head of Carol Tatarescu's mistress, and fuck her in the mouth.
When he too had been reduced to shuddering, gasping limpness, we released her from the 'tailor position' tie; she groaned with relief as she eased her cramped limbs. But I was not about to allow her any respite and despite her pleas and protestations, she soon found herself pinioned once again in a position equally as revealing, and almost as crippling, as the one from which we had just released her.
This time, we took the length of cord that had bound her wrists together (fortunately, I had used rather more than was really necessary in forming the 'figure-of-eight') and cut it into four portions. Then we made her kneel at the foot of the couch, facing the head of it, her knees wide apart and her feet at the two corners. We used two pieces of cord to tie her ankles firmly to the couch legs, then we forced her torso forward and down, so that her scarlet whip-marked butt jutted up into the air. We immobilized her in this position with the other two cords, using them to tie her right wrist to her left knee, and vice versa-the crossed arms depriving her, once again, of most of her normal muscular leverage, so that she had no option but to kneel there, her face against the surface of the couch, and her butt and thighs parted shamelessly to offer her cunt and arsehole unobstructed.
We had just agreed among ourselves that we would each take her twice in this position-once in either hole-and were forming ourselves into a queue for the first round, when our ears were assailed by a dreadful long-drawn-out scream from the salon next door. "Good God, what was that?" said Georgi, and I hurried to the peephole, equally curious.
The Russians were carrying out the Captain's plan to make Countess Tatarescu talk by torturing her daughters before her eyes. The Countess herself was being held down in a chair by four of the Asiatic soldiers. She had been gagged with the petticoat of one of her daughters, both of whom had been stripped naked. Maria, the younger, was standing rigidly, as though frozen with fear, in the grasp of two more soldiers; she too had been gagged with her own stockings. Her young body looked very beautiful as she waited her turn to be tormented. Both mother and daughter were staring with horror-widened eyes at the tableau in the centre of the room, where the two Russian officers were occupying themselves with the naked Elena.
They had bound her wrists together, and run the cord through the stout hook in the ceiling that supported the big cut-glass chandelier; then they had pulled the cord tight, drawing her arms up over her head, and continued till her feet were some twelve inches off the floor, then they had tied the cord back to her wrists. And there they had whipped her, as she hung suspended beneath the chandelier. The cruel red welts across her soft breasts were visible enough, but there were two canes lying discarded on the floor, and I was in no doubt that her pretty young butt had also felt the wicked bite of the whippy cane. She had been gagged during this torture, so we had not heard her cries of agony, but the gag had now worked loose, and had slipped down to lie like a cloth necklace round her slim neck.
The two Russian officers had taken her simultaneously and she was still screaming with the burning pain of the rudely-shattered virginities of cunt and arsehole. The Captain was behind her, buried deep in her rectum and as I watched, his hands came round her body and seized the martyred globes of her breasts, twisting and kneading them cruelly as he shuddered in the grip of his orgasm.
The Lieutenant was fucking her vigorously in her cunt. He had removed his trousers, and I could see every movement of his muscular young buttocks as he jerked his pelvis up and down against the naked belly of the girl. He had caught up her legs behind the knees, and spread her thighs on either side of his waist, holding them up and widely parted, so that he and the Captain could penetrate the helpless body as deeply as possible. And thus the unfortunate girl had lost both virginities at once, and was screaming full-throated with pain and revulsion as the double rape drew to its conclusion. The Lieutenant rose on tiptoes to drive his stiff cock deeper into the shuddering body hanging from the chandelier. His hands came up and dragged the screaming mouth down to his own; then his buttocks tensed, and started jerking rhythmically, as he joined his Captain in a long, powerful orgasm that would leave Elena Tatarescu dripping mingled spunk and blood from both her tortured holes.
Behind me, Georgi asked impatiently, "What's going on. "
"The Russians are coming!" I said with a grin, and waved him to the peephole. He guffawed with delight at the exciting spectacle in the salon; then he joined me in the queue at the foot of the couch, and we settled down to the pleasant task of fucking Carol Tatarescu's blonde mistress.
* * *
FRAGMENTS FROM A DIARY
Author's Note
Jennifer Warren, one of America's top fashion models, was discovered dead in her New York apartment on June 1st, 1968. The cause of death was an overdose of sleeping-pills; and at the ensuing coroner's inquest a verdict was returned of 'suicide while of unsound mind'.
Her diary recently came into my possession, and in these pages I reproduce excerpts which disclose, for the first time, the true facts underlying the tragic death of this talented and lovely girl.
For obvious reasons, the names of all persons mentioned in the diary have been changed.
FRAGMENTS FROM A DIARY-
Wednesday 8 May: Dr. Morgan's death is major tragedy for me-He was so understanding of my problems-could feel myself beginning to become a real person at last. Dr. Hart is a cold fish in comparison! Cannot see myself establishing a meaningful rapport with him. Example:-In recent dream, was kneeling naked at foot of tall pillar of shining gold, running upwards out of sight. Arms clasped tightly round it, could feel the surface warm and comforting against my naked breasts; but did NOT feel sexy. Surely two completely different interpretations possible? One-worship of phallic symbol (but why not feeling sexy?). Two-escape from day-to-day problems (nakedness throw everything aside) up ladder to better life ('up' signifying improvement: smooth slipperiness of shaft-difficulty of achieving success). Simply and honestly, DO NOT KNOW which is correct-(perhaps neither is?! ) Morgan would have helped; but Hart only went "Hm-hm," and said-"Now Jennifer, you must guard against this tendency to unload all your problems onto me! You are old enough to do without your father now--. " Fool!-can't he see I don't want to be somebody's daughter-want to be a woman, and don't know how. Suppose some people would say I'm making out quite well. The magazine-covers show me actually quite beautiful; have no financial problems; and most girls jealous of me over Martin--Friday 10 May If nowhere else, must be honest in this diary! Have realized for some time Martin is my real problem. He has always acted as if he 'owns' me; and am finding it harder and harder not to feel myself 'owned'-KNOW THIS IS WRONG, but every time am with him have actual physical reaction-loins go liquid, and nipples feel all sensitive; and mentally, am beginning to accept slave-role-
Quite honestly consider myself forward-looking about sex-have always enjoyed self with Martin. But lately he has been getting more and more unusual in his demands. Peculiar positions, not uncomfortable in themselves, but somehow humiliating in their raw crudity-(last night he made me look in the mirror after he had posed me-cannot accurately describe my feelings when he whispered-"Look, Jennifer! You can see right up to your womb!"-curious mixture of shame, pride, disgust, fascination, fear-acceptance, too, I noticed). Then, dressing-up: was astonished to see how sexy I looked wearing black velvet neckband, long black gloves, and black velvet high-heeled shoes. Put them on and off two or three times in front of mirror, trying to discover why sexy effect caused; then felt Martin's blue eyes on me, and went to him like moth to candle flame.
Is very shameless lately with his mouth-uses it everywhere on my body; against my conscious will, find myself opening up to his tongue, almost greedily. Now he has begun to demand same from me; and even amidst my shame and revulsion (for he says I must not merely kiss him with my lips: I must take him in my mouth-and worse, push my tongue into his body as he does into mine) I find a horrid fascination, and am eager to accept the degradation he so obviously enjoys. When he gazes into my eyes, smiles at me, touches me, I am lost; and he knows it, and I know it; and we both know the other knows it-How will this end? Tuesday 14 May Hart no help to me-am convinced he has decided I am making everything up. Wasted whole hour yesterday describing how Martin insists I use coarse language. Used to say 'your thing', 'my place', 'do it to me now'-things like that. Now he makes me use the actual words, like 'prick' and 'cock' and 'twat' and 'fuck me in the cunt' and 'arsehole'-It makes me feel all sleazy, Somehow(in my mind's eye I see a gum chewing henna-haired harlot in a motel bedroom, with cheap nylon stockings wrinkled down below her knees). But I become-half to my horror, half to my deepest satisfaction-more and more randy as he strips my dignity away. My body revels in the shattering orgasms he produces in me-while inside my mind I do not know whether to smile at him in loving gratitude, or cry out in horror at the degradation he forces upon me in increasing measure-
Think Hart regards me as the typical sex-starved spinster of the psychiatric case-books, whose experiences exist solely in the realms of fantasy. Offered to bring Martin with me next visit; he just smiled, and murmured, "Oh, Jennifer-, " as though to a child whose game of 'Let's Pretend' has gone too far-
Friday 17 May Dear God, what has come over me? Martin defiles me in unspeakable fashion; am ashamed to put down the things he does to my body-but far more ashamed to admit the fierce, animal pleasure I experience at his hands-which I know I shall seek again, only too willingly. Am being turned into a NYMPHOMANIAC WHORE: and Hart is useless-
Dined at Martin's apartment last night. Before dinner, each had two pleasant-tasting, unfamiliar cocktails-(later he told me openly he had doctored them with Spanish Fly-). After dinner, soft music as we lay on the sofa in the dimly-lit living-room. Felt myself more and more ready for love(the Spanish Fly, though did not know it then)and could not control myself when he stripped me naked and started stroking my breasts. Heard myself, like some stranger, whispering urgently, "Fuck me, darling! Fuck me!" But he smiled at me with those wonderful blue eyes and made me kneel at his feet as he sat there on the sofa; then he pulled my head down to his groin and said quite softly-"Suck me--. "
His prick was warm in my mouth, and hard; could feel him shudder as I teased him with my tongue. Then he pushed me away, and got down beside me on the floor, and laid me on my back; could feel myself going wet with anticipation-for instinctively I knew he was going to suck me till I came. But did not know I was meant to do the same to him-
He swung himself over my naked body, in the inverse direction, and knelt astride me; I felt my thighs being spread and jerked forcefully up and back, till I was stretched wide open; and suddenly his head went down and I felt his tongue running over the very centre of my being, so that I cried out with pleasure, and with the knowledge of the greater pleasure yet to come. Then he dropped his loins, and I saw his prick right before my eyes; and suddenly it seemed natural that I should take it into my mouth and play over it with my tongue. And so we enjoyed each other-
Then Martin thrust a finger into my arsehole; and within seconds I knew that I must come; and as I stiffened, he raised his head and cried urgently-"Swallow me!"-and then I went into my orgasm, and simultaneously his prick started jerking rhythmically, and there was a gush of warm, salty, slimy liquid into my mouth, so that I had perforce to swallow for dear life-
At the time, did not mind his coming in my mouth, for I was inflamed by the Spanish Fly, and felt a great lust for his body; but after I got home, I wept for shame, and could not sleep until the early hours this morning.
DO NOT LIKE recent events-but seem powerless to control them.
Monday 20 May Martin forces horrors on me that must surely unhinge my mind; he is evil-but I cannot resist him-
Last Saturday he asked me, as a favor for a friend of his, to model some underwear-figure only, for of course my agent must not see my face in some unscheduled publication. Went round with him that evening to this friend's studio-equipment simple, but adequate. Handsome, middle-aged Central European, with charm and pleasant manners; found myself chatting easily from behind screen as I put on first set of underwear.
Before starting work, Boris served small glasses of Rumanian plum brandy. Twenty minutes later, knew that once again I had been given aphrodisiac-When Martin came over and removed my bra, saying-"Now we'll have some 'topless' shots," felt surge of pride, and pushed my breasts up with my hands--. (In the distance, could see a distraught Jennifer shaking head and wringing hands; but she seemed unimportant and uninteresting. It was fun being admired by Boris; hoped he would make Martin jealous-).
Boris took several shots, both close-up and middle distance. Then Martin took my panties off and posed me naked in various lewd poses. He undressed too, joined me in several quite explicit poses-but I didn't care-not even when I saw Boris changing to a movie camera; the aphrodisiac made me want it all to happen-
Then Martin made me lie down, and gave me 69 until I cried out and came; but he left my mouth before coming himself, though I was eager to drink him down. Boris moved right in while I was coming-Knew he was taking close-ups, found myself longing to see myself in orgasm-
Next Martin made me kneel, butt propped up in mid-air and head on carpet. Felt him greasing my arsehole; and then, for the first time in my life, found myself being buggered-
I pushed out, as he told me; and he was gentle with me, so that it hardly hurt at all. Felt very proud at being so sexually unconventional; and when he teased my clitoris, I came again, quite beautifully. Could hear Boris' camera whirring away all round our bodies-but simply didn't care.
Later, Martin stretched me on the carpet, held my hands firm, and kissed my mouth, while Boris fucked me very slowly and sweetly, so that I came again, tongue probing hungrily in Martin's mouth-
I slept then, till Sunday noon-awakening in Boris' big double bed. The aphrodisiac had worn off; and I was embarrassed to be naked before two men-but they just laughed, and handed me the proofs of Boris' photographs. Felt myself dying of shame as each new still showed my naked body in some more revealing pose. Then they ran a five-minute color movie of Martin disporting himself with me. Cried out in horror as I saw myself coming in close-up-and last night, had actually wanted to see this obscenity!!
Then for four hours they took me as they wished, in cunt and mouth and arsehole, sometimes separately, sometimes together, till I could come no more.
Saw Hart today, and BEGGED for assistance in breaking Martin's spell. He told me Martin has consulted him, as my fianc', professing worry over my 'sexual hallucinations'. Asked him if dark shadows under my eyes were 'hallucinations'; he shook his head in exasperation, told me I was masturbating too frequently-
Thursday 23 May Martin and Boris visited last night. Tried to threaten them with police. Martin laughed. Hart has agreed to speak to Precinct Captain if I file complaint; shall find myself committed as mentally unstable-
They had me several times again; my body loved it, and I loathed myself-am more than ever Martin's spineless slave, and commit the most frightful obscenities at his command. Friday 24 May Today Martin told me I am to spend weekend at Boris' studio, 'to rehearse'. Asked what for-answer, making half-hour 'action' film of self and three Negroes. Told him-never! He shrugged, said casually I would be whipped, naked, till I agreed-
He ignored my tears; I was still weeping when he buggered me-
See no hope. Hart USELESS, hoodwinked by Martin. Imagine myself in hands of Negroes; and get sensual thrill at thought of Martin watching-
Perhaps I am unstable-
Monday 27 May Repulsive, bestial weekend. Was unwilling receptacle for OVER THIRTY emissions from the three huge Negros, Martin, Boris. Made me come so many times, can hardly stand-
Scenario for Boris' film beyond all description. CANNOT, will not, lend my body to such multiple defilement-
Thursday 30 May The Negroes arrived, unannounced, last night, 'to run through latest script changes'. They gagged me, to stifle screams; then each had me three times-
I CANNOT face next weekend.
Friday 31 May Martin has just phoned; will pick me up at noon tomorrow for afternoon filming at Boris' studio. Just the sound of his voice made me play rabbit to his snake. Cannot stand the thought of my body all slimy with the Negroes' spunk, their stiff pricks in my mouth, my cunt, my arsehole-
HOW CAN I ESCAPE? How? How? HOW?
* * *
THE RUNAWAY
They had caught Nicole less than half a mile from the gates.
Miss Jameson, with Miss Baxter sitting by her side, had driven the big station-wagon past her as she pedaled along for dear life on her stolen bicycle, and then slowed right down so that she was forced almost to a halt. For a moment, she had thought to turn and flee the other way, but then, to her horror, she had discovered the Headmistress' old-fashioned limousine right behind her. She had gone white with fear then, realizing she was trapped and even before the three women had closed round her, she had dissolved into tears of supplication which she knew all too well would move them not one whit.
And so it had proved. "Put her in the Lower Gymnasium!" the Headmistress had said. "Let her think things over on the horse for an hour, while we have dinner. And then we'll come and give her a lesson she'll remember the rest of her days!"
She was waiting now in the Lower Gymnasium-the Headmistress' euphemism for the basement punishment-room with its terrifying collection of torture implements and apparatus. She was sitting motionless upon the horse, stark naked-no longer sobbing, though her eyes were red with past weeping, and the marks of her tears were visible on her cheeks down to the harsh line of the cord that ran round to the back of her head, to hold the big rubber gag pressed deep into her mouth.
The tear-tracks ran down her cheeks at an angle, for her head was drawn back, so that she was staring wild-eyed at the ceiling; a leather skull-cap affair had been strapped round her temples, and from it a wire ran taut to a vertical bar rising from the rear end of the horse. Lower down on this bar a second, shorter wire ran to hand-cuffs round her wrists, stretching her arms painfully behind her. Nor dare she attempt to relieve the aching muscles of her neck and shoulders by leaning backwards to reduce the tension; for little padded clamps had been screwed tight onto the coral nipples of her firm young breasts, and cords running to a bar at the front end of the horse were pulling the breasts themselves painfully forward into the shape of two elongated pears.
But these brutalities paled into insignificance before the agony of the horse itself. Nicole was straddling the big leather cylinder of the 'body' with legs stretched well out to the sides, and held there firmly by cords running from her anklets to ringbolts in the floor, so that she had no possibility of gripping with her knees. She must sit squarely on the horse, with her weight taken by the undersurface of her butt, the insides of her thighs-and by her open cunt.
Once Nicole had been immobilized in this position, her tormentors had wound the handle at the front end of the horse and slowly, inexorably, the curved metal segments lying hidden in the body of the horse had been forced upwards, till the little metal spikes had poked inquisitively through the grille of holes in the leather surface-and gone on rising, so that the softness of her secret parts had been visited by a dreadful fiery agony, as though she had fallen prey to an army of fiercely-stinging soldier ants. The spikes were sufficiently close together to bear her weight without causing real puncture wounds, but the pain was enough to set her screaming behind the rubber gag till her throat was hoarse-nor could she ease the position of her body in any way, for her feet could find no purchase to let her relieve her weight, and she soon found that any movement of her torso merely increased the martyrdom of her aching nipples.
She drew her breath in with a snort of terror as she heard the roor open behind her; then the three women entered the room, chatting gaily among themselves. Nicole shuddered helplessly on the cruel horse, for she knew the hour of her torment was upon her.
They moved round in front of her, and she could see them well enough by looking down her nose. As she watched, they divested themselves of their robes and she saw with fascinated horror that all three were naked underneath. Miss Jameson, the Games Mistress, was tall and sleek and superbly muscled, the black triangle of her bush stood out boldly against the firm ivory flatness of her belly, to disappear between the powerful but beautifully proportioned thighs, and Nicole sensed that when she made a more intimate acquaintance with Miss Jameson-as she knew she must-she would find the cunt clean and fresh against her mouth, and smelling of unscented soap. Miss Baxter was petite and blonde and plumply rounded, and somehow Nicole knew that she would be as harshly severe as Miss Jameson, but far less pleasant-for while there might conceivably be something to be said for surrendering oneself to the tall dark Games Mistress, the idea of intimacy with the soft-looking blonde was curiously repugnant.
But it was the spectacle of the Headmistress that made Nicole's heart lurch with terrified revulsion. She was older than the two under mistresses, fatter, flabbier. The sagging pot-belly pressed down onto a thick matted bush of auburn hair plentifully streaked with gray, which looked both unaesthetic and unsanitary and poor Nicole caught her breath in horror at the thought of being forced to suck the hairy, thick-lipped cunt which her imagination pictured for her between the plump and unattractive thighs.
"Now, my love!" said the Headmistress in soft and falsely honeyed tones, "we've been a naughty girl, haven't we?-running away like that! And so we're going to be punished, to teach us not to be naughty in the future!" She signed to the others, who moved swiftly over to the horse; Miss Baxter wound down the terrible biting spikes, while Miss Jameson released Nicole from her bonds, then together they lifted the trembling girl down from her seat of little ease. Nicole could barely stand after her long sojourn on the horse, and leant weakly against Miss Jameson's strong arms as the gag was removed from her mouth, then she started a series of babbling pleas for mercy which fell unavailing on deaf ears.
At the Headmistress' signal, they dragged Nicole to a whipping-bench, and forced her to stretch out on the padded leather. Her arms were drawn above her head, and her wrists locked into leather cuffs set at the two top corners. Then the two under-mistresses each seized her by an ankle, and together they bent her thighs back to her shoulders, forcing her lower legs on down to the surface of the bench so that her loins were lifted into the air. And there they pinioned her ankles, alongside her wrists, so that she was quite helpless, doubled up in two. Her tight-stretched buttocks, which now formed the high-point of her body, offered no protection to the plump, gaping cunt, or to the well-exposed rosette of her arsehole; and the doubled-up position stretched the flesh which had already been so painfully martyred by the wicked little spikes of the horse, so that tiny little pin-points of ruby appeared in profusion over the soft inner thighs and firm, springy buttocks.
The Headmistress moved round into Nicole's field of vision. The unhappy victim cried out as she saw the weapon in her tormentor's hand-such a simple weapon, but, as Nicole knew from painful past experience, one that made the recipient dance with pain. It was made from three cheap Wool-worth's skipping-ropes, the kind with thin rubber tubing as the 'rope'. These had been cut to three-foot lengths, laid side by side, and doubled in the middle, so that there were now six rubber thongs each eighteen inches long. Then the uncut ends had been bound round and round with thick, hard cord, to make a handle five or six inches long, and the result was a scourge with six thin, whippy thongs a foot or more in length-which was now being handed to Miss Baxter, with an exhortation to "give that naughty girl a whipping she'll remember!"
Nicole was screaming even before the rubber lashes had hissed down into the V of her parted thighs, biting the exposed cunt-lips mercilessly, stinging her cruelly along her open slit and on the sensitive bud of her clitoris, bringing excruciating agony to the whole area already throbbing with the pain of the spikes.
She could see Miss Baxter quite clearly, beyond the little pyramid of her own parted buttocks writhing in agony on the whipping-bench. The little blonde's eyes were glittering with pleasure and her big soft breasts wobbled jelly-like as her arm went up again, to bring the rubber thongs hissing down once more onto the rapidly-swelling cunt lying at her mercy.
Six brutal blows left Nicole's quim a red, palpitating pool of pain, and Nicole herself at the threshold of unconsciousness. But now the Headmistress intervened and with obvious reluctance, Miss Baxter laid aside her scourge-but only to move round to the other end of the bench, which she straddled at the level of Nicole's head, then she lowered herself down onto the captive face, saying tersely, "Suck me!"
Realizing she had no alternative, Nicole started gamming the soft, fleshy cunt pressed firmly onto her mouth, gagging slightly at the acrid taste of the blonde's juices coupled with the scent of the powerful perfume which Miss Baxter wore in a misguided attempt to make herself attractive for Miss Jameson. Fortunately, whipping Nicole's cunt had excited Miss Baxter, so that her orgasm was not long delayed. She jerked and twisted on her victim's face for fully half a minute, while her come-juice trickled down into Nicole's unwilling mouth. Then her cries of pleasure died away, she sighed, shook herself, and got up from the bench.
But the unfortunate girl's respite was of short duration, for now Miss Jameson stepped forward, and the horrified Nicole saw that the Headmistress had equipped her with a thin, whippy, whalebone switch some eighteen inches long, which she knew would hurt atrociously-especially if Miss Jameson hit up and down, along her crack, instead of across her buttocks in the traditional manner.
Nicole moaned as she saw the Games Mistress take up her position at the end of the whipping-bench, for she realized at once that Miss Jameson was not in the 'sideways-on' position called for by a traditional flogging across the buttocks. She was 'end-ways-on', looking directly at Nicole over the twin humps of her quivering, blood-flecked butt. The nipples of her firm ivory breasts were standing out like two little thimbles, and she was humming pleasantly to herself as she contemplated her helpless target. Her hand went up-
Nicole started screaming, the noise was almost terrifying in its intensity and urgency. All the strength seemed to have drained from her body; she could not even struggle any longer against her wrist-cuffs and anklets, so great was the pain which now gripped her very being-
Phwtt! Phwtt! Phwtt! Phwtt! Miss Jameson was not hitting very hard, really; more of a feathering of the wrist than a serious, deliberate blow. But she was hitting very rapidly and with terrible effect, for the thin biting rod was shuttling to and fro over a very limited path. It started on the crest of Nicole's right buttock, moved down the soft, tender inner surface of the widespread crack, paused for two or three agonizing strokes on the half-open arsehole itself (which bounced uncontrollably in and out under the pain of the unwelcome visitation) up the other side of the crack, and so to the crest of the shuddering left buttock-to start immediately on its return journey-Phwtt! Phwtt! Phwtt!-down to the pain-soaked arsehole and up beyond, while Nicole writhed in agony on her bench and uttered scream after scream.
Again, the Headmistress had to intervene when Nicole was on the point of fainting under the hail of rapid stinging little blows across her sensitive arsehole. Miss Jameson appeared not at all put out by this curtailment of what was obviously a pleasure to her and there was a faint smile of satisfaction on her handsome face as she straddled Nicole's whipping-bench and lowered her loins onto the tear-stained face.
As Nicole had anticipated, the Games Mistress' cunt was fresh and clean upon her lips and she was so relieved by the cessation of the dreadful pain caused by the whalebone switch that she set to almost eagerly, reaming her tongue over the erect clitoris and up into the rapidly moistening vagina till Miss Jameson's cool facade cracked, and she started gasping and writhing in ecstasy as Nicole's frantic gamming took effect.
Miss Jameson was more skilled in the Lesbian art than her little blonde girl-friend Miss Baxter and suddenly Nicole leapt in her bonds as cunning finger-tips started tickling the naked soles of her upturned, pinioned feet. She heard Miss Jameson murmur, "Headmistress, would you help her along--? " Then she felt fingers teasing gently at her sore, swollen clitoris and soon she was twitching and shuddering with pleasure, her toes opening and closing involuntarily as Miss Jameson scratched the soles of her feet, and the red puffed-up cunt beginning to swim with her juices as the two women drove her up the ladder of pleasure. Finally she burst into an orgasm of shattering intensity, shuddering and jerking with pleasure so that the bench shook beneath her, while above, Miss Jameson's ivory body writhed in a long-drawn-out spend that filled Nicole's mouth with juices, and had Miss Baxter leaning forward with shining eyes and parted lips as she watched her lover quivering in ecstasy.
And then the crisp black bush was lifted from her mouth, and Nicole groaned in relief as she felt her ankles freed, allowing her to bring her legs down from their doubled-up position. But now the soapy voice of the Headmistress sounded in her ears, "Nicole, dear! You were riding a bicycle when we found you, weren't you?" She stammered in her nervousness as she replied, "Ye-yes-Yes-I be-beg you, Madam, please for-forgive me. "
"Have no fear, darling, you can tell me. You like to bicycle, don't you?"
"Ye-yes, Madam, but-"
"Well then, pet," the hypocritical voice was almost purring now, "I'm going to let you have a nice ride on this lovely machine over here. " She signed to the two under mistresses, who released the anxious Nicole-totally unconvinced of the Headmistress' good intentions-from the wrist-cuffs which held her to the whipping-bench; then they dragged her over to the corner where the Headmistress was tugging at the dust-sheet covering a squat hidden object.
Nicole cried out in horror as the sheet fell to the floor. "Oh, my God! No! No! I ca-can't. " She was looking at a big sturdy tricycle, exactly like an ordinary machine in every way-save that it had no saddle. In its place there rose a monstrous dildo of black ebonite, like the prick of some gigantic Negro.
"Have a nice little ride, my love," said the Headmistress. She was holding a long carriage-whip now, and as the unhappy Nicole struggled in the grip of the two under mistresses, the thong flashed out and caught her smartly on the naked breasts, so that she cried out in pain. Finally, after several more slashes from the whip, Nicole's resistance collapsed, and she climbed onto the pedals, sobbing bitterly, but the Headmistress had to whip her quite vigorously before she could be persuaded to impale herself on the gleaming black spike. Miss Baxter held the cheeks of her butt apart, and the unhappy girl lowered herself carefully until the big plum-shaped head of the dildo was prodding at her arsehole, already sore and swollen from Miss Jameson's long, painful whipping. Then she was crying out in pain and revulsion as the shaft slowly disappeared into her rectum, while the three women watched avidly from behind until eight inches of the black prick had entered her body, and her buttocks were resting against the two little safety-flanges at the bottom of the shaft.
Nicole sat very still, attempting to avoid all motion on the dildo, but to her horror the Headmistress ordered her to cycle round the room. Two cruel slashes across her naked body persuaded her that she must at all costs avoid a further whipping while the big prick was up her butt, but she found it almost as painful when she started pedaling. Each thrust of her foot moved the soft sheath of her rectum round the big hard rod in agonizing fashion, so that when the Headmistress finally allowed her to come to a halt, she was crying out with the pain of her doubly martyred arsehole.
Dismounting from the big dildo was almost as painful as mounting had been, but at last she was on terra firma-only to find that her punishment was not yet over. Before she could collect herself, the two under mistresses had dragged her over to a couch where the Headmistress was lying in an abandoned posture, like a young girl awaiting her lover; legs widespread and knees drawn up, to reveal a cunt almost exactly as Nicole had pictured it-fat, and gray, and hairy. Almost gagging with revulsion, Nicole was forced to her knees; then Miss Jameson's strong hand pushed her head down to the unlovely target. She knew that if she refused to pleasure the chief of her tormentors, she would be given short shrift indeed. With a stifled cry of despair, she closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and set about her loathsome task.
Five minutes later the hateful, honeyed voice was saying, "That was very nice, darling! You see? We've all forgiven you, you naughty girl. Now you can go to sleep. Being punished makes you tired, doesn't it, pet?"
Nicole suddenly realized that she was in fact utterly weary. But there was little sleep for her that night. When her tormentors finally left her, she was lying spread-eagled on the couch, both legs and one arm strapped to the corners, and the other hand tied tight against her butt with one finger inserted into her swollen, aching rectum; her whip-marked breasts were burning with the intolerable itch produced by a handful of fresh green stinging-nettles tucked inside her brassiere and she was screaming herself hoarse into a thick cloth gag.
And so she lay and suffered for upwards of an hour, until merciful Nature intervened and extended the gift of oblivion to the wretched runaway, whose only fault was to have been recaptured.
* * *
THE FEAST OF LAMBDA
Denise smiled gently to herself as she turned the invitation card over in her hands. Of all the new acquaintances she had made since she had moved in to live with Martin in his villa at Cap d'Antibes, the quiet dignified Indo-Chinese couple with the huge Rolls-Royce and the retinue of liveried servants were perhaps the most intriguing. And now it looked as though they sought a closer, more personal relationship.
The card opened like a Christmas card. On the left-hand side, in curious, hand-drawn, semi-Oriental lettering, were the words:
"Yeng and Mai request the pleasure of your company at the Feast of Lambda, at the third hour of the full moon. Then the lotus flower will open, and the ripe fruits will glow under the soft caress of the bamboos, and the song of love will rise upwards to the stars". On the other page was a line drawing, beautifully executed and delicately colored. It showed a naked woman, standing with her legs apart, her ankles shackled to the ground. Her arms were drawn together, straight up above her head, by a rope running upwards from her wrists. She was facing a big bronze statue of Buddha, who smiled enigmatically down upon her.
Denise knew that the woman was standing in the shape of the Greek letter Lambda, which is written-; and she understood the meaning of the invitation. So too did Martin, when she showed it to him; he told her he had had a note from Yeng, saying that the Rolls would call for them at nine o'clock that evening. Her eyes widened when he instructed her how she was to dress herself, she found herself breathing a little faster, and the tip of her tongue stole out and caressed the centre of her upper lip, very delicately.
At their host's villa, an impassive Oriental manservant opened the door to them and took their coats. Martin looked Denise over carefully before they left the foyer. She was wearing a short black miniskirt that showed her beautiful legs to perfection; she wore no stockings, and her feet were in high-heeled black glace kid shoes. Above the skirt was a silk blouse that clung tightly to the perfect contours of her bust. She wore no other clothing but the miniskirt, the blouse, the high-heeled shoes. As he had instructed, she had cut two star-shaped openings in the blouse, at the level of her firm breasts, and the coral nipples were peering through these holes in provocative fashion. The contrasts between the gold of her tanned flesh (for she sunbathed regularly in the nude, and her breasts were the same golden brown as the rest of her body) the dark pink of her nipples, and the pastel gray of her blouse, were most appealing. Martin nodded his approval and they followed the manservant into the room where Yeng and Mai were waiting.
It was a large room, beautifully appointed, with silk hangings on the walls and rare Chinese carpets on the floor. Many colored streamers were hanging from the ceiling, delicately painted with motifs of flowers and dragons and these were repeated on the silk cushions strewn everywhere in lavish disarray.
The most striking feature of the room was a huge bronze Buddha sitting against one wall. Around its base was a half-circle of little lamps; these provided the only illumination in the room and it took Denise a moment or two before her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Then she saw the two Indo-Chinese rising from their knees in front of the Buddha, and coming over to greet their guests.
Denise was surprised to and them so young-looking. Somehow, she remembered them as older than she now saw them to be. She was surprised, too, by their costume. They were dressed alike, in long black silk pants and short bolero jackets of the same material. Mai's breasts were quite openly displayed; they were small and hard-she was a slim, petite woman-with firm dark nipples that were thrusting proudly upwards from her body.
They bowed before their guests and drew them over towards the Buddha, and for the first time Denise noticed the colossal phallus on the statue of the god. It was in full erection, and gleaming in the flickering light of the lamps, and for a moment, Denise thought that she could see it move and twitch. She looked quickly at the Buddha's face, but there was no response from the sightless eyes, and the little secret smile on the full lips remained unchanged. When she looked down again at the huge standing prick, the illusion of motion had disappeared.
At Yeng's invitation, Denise sat down on a big silken pouffe. Mai placed herself in front of the girl, and leaned forward to gaze at the lovely breasts protruding from the two holes Martin had made her cut in her blouse. Mai's head came down and Denise shivered with emotion as the smiling mouth planted two soft kisses on her hardening nipples.
Behind her, Yeng bent down and kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, then his hands came round her body, very slowly, so delicately that she hardly noticed it, he unbuttoned her blouse, then Mai moved forward, and eased it off her body. Denise blushed a little, but she felt a warm flush of pleasure coursing through her veins. She closed her eyes in ecstasy as she pictured herself surrendering to the strange whims of the two Orientals; thus she did not see Yeng roll back a corner of the carpet to reveal a mirror let into the floor, with two shallow foot-holes, one on either side.
Gently, Mai led the girl over to the mirror and stood her on the gleaming surface. Then she lifted Denise's arms and pinioned them, one on either side, with streamers hanging from the ceiling. Somewhere a switch was turned and a soft pink light came into being round the edge of the mirror, growing until the long slim legs, poised so beautifully on the gleaming high-heeled shoes, were illumined very clearly.
Yeng had thrown some incense onto the lamps around the Buddha and Denise breathed in deeply as she stood waiting on the mirror, her thighs pressed tightly together under the short miniskirt that was her only garment. She felt him moving close in behind her, kneeling on a cushion, bending forward to stare at her private parts reflected in the mirror and again she shivered with emotion-
Then Mai began playing with the lovely, firm breasts, cupping the soft globes in her soft hands, stroking the nipples very softly and slowly. Denise closed her eyes as she felt pleasure mounting within her. Then Mai took a little red feather, from some brilliantly-plumaged Oriental bird, and started caressing the nipple of one breast with the very tip of the feather. Now the waves of pleasure began to flow more swiftly through Denise's body; her nipples hardened into little acorns of desire, and a soft moan escaped her lips, she offered the other breast, but Mai seemed not to notice, and went on tormenting the nipple till Denise started twisting her body in the grip of the mounting sensation. Behind her, Yeng smiled gently as he watched the undulations of the lovely butt in the mirror.
Now the sensation was becoming unbearable, and Denise was sobbing with emotion as she tried in vain to offer the other breast, but still Mai stayed on the same globe, now teasing at the nipple, now dragging the feather lightly across the sensitive undersurface of the breast: up-down-round went the wicked little feather, teasing, tickling beautifully, unbearably, till Denise was dancing like any belly-dancer on the revealing mirror, while Yeng smiled and nodded his pleasure at the sight.
Still the feather went on tickling the poor tortured nipple, which was now so hard that it was beginning to hurt her And then, just as she was on the point of crying out, Mai moved over to the other breast and the delicious torment was repeated, till Denise felt that her breasts must have doubled in size under the maddening caresses of the little feather. Now she knew the meaning of the sentence on the invitation card, "The ripe fruits will glow under the soft caress of the bamboos. "
Mai whispered gently to her, "Open your legs, and place your feet in the holes beside the mirror!" Slowly, Denise did as she was bid, spreading her legs till she was straddling the gleaming glass, and all the while Mai kept on caressing her breasts with the maddening little feather, so that Denise was writhing and twisting almost ceaselessly.
She knew that Yeng was looking at her cunt between her parted legs and somehow she could sense his pleasure, and see in her mind's eye his swollen prick standing stiffly in his black silk pants, but this did not seem important to her. Nothing was important any longer, save only her own pleasure. She could see Mai in front of her and Mai also kept looking down into the mirror, to watch the movements of the red mouth between the quivering legs, but this also was unimportant, as long as Mai continued to tease her swollen nipples so excitingly.
As her passion grew, Denise began to lose control of herself; once again she began to dance under the stimulus of the feather, only now she was dancing with her legs widely parted, and her cunt was in full view-twisting, opening, shutting, according to the movements of her body as she danced. She was nearing her orgasm now, panting with pleasure as she writhed over the mirror and her juices began dribbling from her swimming cunt. At the end, she brought her legs together, but Yeng leaned forward and drew her feet apart again. The touch of a male hand on her naked flesh seemed to drive her over the edge and she plunged into a violent orgasm, sobbing and gasping, head twisted to one side and eyes closed in ecstasy, shuddering and moaning as she came, her belly rolling furiously in great bumps and jerks till finally her legs seemed to collapse under her, and she would have fallen to the floor if Yeng had not supported her.
At last they let her bring her legs together, but this was only that they might more easily remove the short black miniskirt that was her only garment. Mai undid this, while Yeng still held her in his arms (and she could feel his stiff prick rubbing against the cleft of her butt, through the thin silk of his pants) the skirt rustled to the floor, and she lifted her feet obediently as Mai tapped each leg in turn. Then she was naked, and she could feel the eyes of everyone upon her, admiring, coveting: Mai in front of her, eyes shining with pleasure; Yeng behind her, his maleness very evident; Martin somewhere at the back; and towering above them all, the Buddha, with his enigmatic smile.
Yeng released her, and came round to the front. Then he bent down and sucked at her hard aching nipples for a few moments, very delicately, till she was shivering with reawakened sensitivity. But he stopped, and made a sign to Mai and Denise found herself being made to straddle the mirror, wider than before, only this time her ankles were shackled to the floor. Then Mai pulled at two special cords hanging from the ceiling, and the streamers holding Denise's wrists were drawn upwards, so that her arms were stretched taut, the hands together. She realized she was standing in the Lambda position, naked, like the woman on the invitation card and she felt her heart beating faster,. in growing apprehension.
She looked very beautiful as she stood there, waiting, with the pink light flooding up from the mirror-rim and washing over the golden flesh of her lovely butt, and the slim parted thighs, and between them the red mouth of her open cunt, the plump lips protruding slightly in a delicious pout. Above lay the dark triangle of her bush and then the shaded pit of her navel and above that again, the softly-illumined undersides of the firm breasts with their hard, pointed nipples.
Mai sighed with pleasure at the sight, then her voice came quietly in the silent room, "Now that you have taken pleasure from your breasts, you must offer their torture to the Buddha. Only then will he allow you to enjoy the more exciting caresses through which you song of love may rise upwards to the stars. "
Denise recognized the wording of the invitation, and looked quickly at Mai, then she gasped with apprehension. The Indo-Chinese girl had shed her bolero jacket; she was standing sideways on to Denise now and in her hand was a little scourge, with short lashes made of braided silk, with little knots spaced along them at regular intervals.
Mai's arm went up, and Denise closed her eyes. She shivered under the blow, tensing herself as she felt the lashes thud home on her right breast, but to her surprise there was no pain, beyond a small and not unpleasant tingling sensation. The lashes slithered over the firm golden flesh, and the little knots tugged gently at the rigid nipple, and then Mai raised her arm again, and began a methodical flagellation of the lovely globes. At first, the blows hardly seemed to hurt at all; there was just that warm tingling in her breasts. Then the strokes got harder, and she felt as though her breasts were growing bigger and bigger as they bounced to and fro under the silken lashes; but it did not really hurt-it was more like a fiery kiss, spreading through her whole body. Sometimes Mai hit the breasts straight across, so that they shivered from side to side and swung against each other, but sometimes she whipped them upwards, on the undersurfaces, so that they leaped up into the air, and then fell back again.
The two breasts grew slowly redder as the skillful flagellation went on and Denise began to feel as though she had two coals of fire resting on her bosom. But the hot feeling was very pleasant and her cries-for she was crying out hoarsely now, at every stroke-were those of pleasure, not of pain. Under the spur of the silken lashes she had started twisting and writhing in her bonds and Yeng's mouth opened in admiration as he watched the gaping cunt in the mirror, dancing obscenely as Denise moved her body to and fro.
Mai was hitting harder now and the two breasts were dark red, and turning purple. From time to time the knotted lashes hurt the nipples and then Denise would twist her whole body violently, and try to free herself from her bonds. Martin had joined Yeng now, and the two men gazed fascinated at the mirror, where the girl's moistening cunt was opening and shutting haphazardly as sensation mounted in the tortured body.
Now Mai discarded the silken scourge, and took up another, whose lashes were of harder cord, and thicker, and longer and with this new weapon the blows really began to hurt. But Denise was gripped by a perverse sensation so powerful that she did not realize Mai had changed the whip. She could not decide whether the burning heat across her bosom was causing her insufferable pain, or unspeakable pleasure.
The knotted cords made her breasts dance merrily to and fro, so that from time to time they slapped quite violently against each other. When the cords hit squarely across the nipple, they would push it in until it had completely disappeared into the soft flesh of the breast, then an instant later it would reappear, redder and harder and more sensitive than ever.
Denise was crying out quite openly now as the cords bit into her tender flesh. Her body kept arching to and fro, and Mai could see in the mirror that her cunt had gone all moist. She knew that Denise was suffering acutely now and she was rather surprised that she had lasted so long without fainting, for the whipping was quite severe. But she could see that Yeng was enjoying the delicious torture of the captive girl, and she kept on whipping the two swollen, purple breasts, harder and harder.
Finally, after a last half-dozen blows that had Denise screaming like a tortured beast, Mai brought the whipping to an end. Once again the room was silent, save for Denise's labored breathing, as she hung by her wrists from the ceiling, for her legs had gone limp, and would not support her. The two men drew closer; and for a moment each leaned forward and sucked gently at one of the burning fiery nipples. The soothing moistness of their mouths made her groan faintly with relief.
Mai moved away, to reappear a moment later pushing a wheeled trolley like a hospital stretcher. The two men released Denise from her bonds and supported her limp body over to the trolley, where they laid her gently on her back. Then they drew her arms down over the sides of the stretcher and pulled them back, so that her aching, swollen breasts were thrust boldly upwards and there they tied her wrists with strong silken cords. Then the two Indo-Chinese raised the long slim legs and fixed them by the ankles to leather cuffs attached to cords that were lowered from the ceiling and when these were drawn up again, Denise's legs were held in a widespread V, at right angles to her body.
In the dim light given out by the lamps round the base of the Buddha, her private parts appeared shadowy and mysterious. The lovely curving lines of thigh and buttock were easily distinguishable; something could be seen of the open cunt glistening redly at the bottom of the V, but the little puckered arsehole was hidden in the shadows.
Then Mai switched on a soft pink light, shaded to produce a ray like a searchlight and this she directed full onto Denise's yawning cunt. Now everything could be seen-the plump, hairy lips, parted to disclose the red button of the clitoris and the open mouth of the vagina and lower down, the wrinkled brown bud of the delicate arsehole.
Denise jerked violently on the stretcher as she felt a sudden tickling at her cunt. Mai was using the little red feather again. On her knees in front of the girl's parted thighs, she was teasing delicately at the unprotected clitoris. The sensitive bud of flesh grew swollen almost immediately, and rose up from between the protecting cunt lips, so that Mai's feather could work freely all over the little red nub. Denise, whose body was already tense from the torture of her breasts, became violently excited and they could all see her thighs straining farther apart, and her belly beginning to writhe with pleasure. The red mouth of her vagina began opening and shutting as Mai continued her teasing of the defenseless clitoris.
Then she was crying out, wordless cries of pleasure, as she was driven into orgasm by the delicious masturbation of the little red feather on the most sensitive part of her body. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and her muscles went rigid for a long moment; then her cunt seemed to open, and twist from side to side. She came very violently, although the feather's touch had been so delicate. Mai was quite surprised by the convulsive jerking of the girl's butt and belly, even though she had been expecting the orgasm. As the convulsions continued, the cunt got redder and redder, and gaped more widely. Denise's juices began welling over, to trickle down towards her arsehole, and Mai amused herself by playing with the little stream, first with the feather, then with her finger.
At last the magnificent orgasm drew to its close, and the heaving body fell still. Almost reluctantly, Mai abandoned her contemplation of the swimming cunt, still twitching spasmodically in the aftermath of the exhausting spend. From a shelf beneath the body of the stretcher she drew a beautifully-fashioned ivory dildo, about the size of a man's prick. She placed the head against Denise's puckered arsehole-all moist now with the juices from her spend-and pushed it gently in. Denise cried out in mingled pleasure and surprise as the dildo sank slowly into her rectum, till Mai's fingers were pressing against the skin of the firm golden butt.
The two men bent down to watch as Mai's long slim hand worked the ivory dildo in and out of Denise's arsehole. But the girl had been buggered so many times that her sphincter was relaxed, and the dildo moved back and forth too easily. When Mai realized this, she worked the ivory rod from side to side for a few strokes, to widen Denise's passage and with her other hand she picked out a bigger, fatter dildo, which had a bump in the middle of its shaft. She took the smaller dildo out of the girl's body, and replaced it with the bigger one, pushing it firmly till it slid in with a wet, sucking noise. Denise's arsehole seemed to open like a mouth and swallow the big rod, till it had all disappeared within her body.
The girl guessed what Mai had done, from the sudden stretching of her arsehole, but she was enjoying herself so much that she gave herself up to the increased pleasure, without thought of protest. Then Martin saw Mai take a third dildo out of the box, and hold it up towards Yeng with an enquiring look. He shook his head and murmured, "No-not tonight-another time, and she nodded, and put the dildo away. Martin felt his loins go heavy with lust, for this dildo was simply immense and he could not imagine how Denise could accept it in her body, but he knew that he would gladly watch the spectacle when Yeng decided that the time was ripe.
Meanwhile, Mai was working the dildo up and down in Denise's rectum and the two men watched fascinated as her arsehole bit ceaselessly at the sliding rod like a little mouth. The two lips were drawn out by the big dildo on its out-stroke, and then they were pushed in again with a little sucking noise as Mai drove the dildo back inside.
Soon Denise realized that she was about to come again. She no longer cared about the shameful way in which her body was displayed; as before, she thought only of her own pleasure. Once again her muscles went rigid and her buttocks hollowed themselves appealingly as she clenched them, like a young girl's. Her thighs quivered and jerked against the constriction of the cuffs imprisoning her ankles, as Mai worked the dildo in and out, driving Denise slowly, inexorably, towards her climax.
Suddenly she burst into a mighty orgasm, bucking and heaving in her bonds as she came in streams. The rhythmic contractions of her arsehole tore the dildo out of Mai's hand and all of them watched the big shaft waving to and fro in time with the jerking of her spend. At last the sweating, babbling body relaxed on the stretcher, and the juice-soaked cunt lay still, shaken only by a few last dying twitches that set the dildo waving feebly in the distended arsehole. Then Mai withdrew the ivory rod from the girl's body, and released her from her bonds.
But her freedom was only temporary and Denise soon found herself standing once again on the mirror, with her arms drawn up above her head, and the pink light striking upwards to illumine her tired thighs and butt, all streaked with the juices which had leaked out of her brimming cunt.
"Now you must dance a little, in honor of the Buddha!" Denise heard Mai's whisper in her ear, but she was too exhausted by her shattering orgasm even to protest the order, and she just stood there panting heavily and supporting the weight of her body on the cords about her wrists.
"You refuse to dance? Or perhaps you do not know how? See, it is very easy!"
Denise cried out in sudden pain as the leather lashes of a cat-o'-nine-tails swished through the air to land across her naked butt. Before she could collect herself, another stinging blow landed on her springy buttocks-and another-and another. Mai was very expert with the whip and almost at once the pain-crazed girl was dancing under the cruel lashes, twisting and turning in a fruitless attempt to avoid the stinging blows, and displaying her body to the two men in an obscene, lascivious belly-dance that was duplicated shamelessly in the mirror underneath.
Under the stimulus of the leather thongs her belly kept undulating, gyrating, twisting, in a thousand different ways. As she drew her stomach in, her navel opened and closed, like a little mouth in the middle of her belly. Down below, her cunt was opening and closing too, as she shifted from one leg to the other. One might have fancied that it was crying out for mercy from the cruel lashes-
Denise's whole butt was an angry red by now, but Mai kept on flogging her, very violently, so that the thongs bit right into the flesh and disappeared, and then bounced out again, leaving more angry marks. Denise was shouting at the top of her voice, and tears were running down her face. None of her lovers had whipped her as hard as this for a very, very long time.
Finally Yeng saw that she was reaching the limit of her resistance. He gave Mai a sign, and after two more terrible strokes, she brought the whipping to an end. Yeng came close and examined the flaming, scarlet butt. He ran his hands over the aching flesh, and said quietly to Denise, "Now you must come and make your peace with the Buddha, and offer him your body in atonement for your sin of disobedience. "
He released her arms and the two Indo-Chinese helped her across the room-for she was so weary she could scarcely walk. They took her over to the Buddha and she shuddered as she saw the enormous prick standing out from his belly, but they passed by the statue, and opened a little door hitherto concealed behind the body of the god. Denise found herself in a small dimly-lit room, without furnishings. Here there was another Buddha, made of some sort of translucent amber glass, and lit from the inside by a faint light, so that the statue seemed almost phosphorescent. The effect was quite beautiful.
Yeng drew her forward a little, and for the first time she saw the front of the Buddha. He was in a sitting posture, with his legs wide apart and his pelvis jutting forward; and from the bottom of his belly jutted a prick so big that Denise moaned with terror for she knew that her body must accept this huge rod. For a long moment she gazed at the luminous amber phallus as if hypnotized. The Buddha seemed to be waiting to enjoy her body in some strange forbidden embrace. She shuddered at the thought and tried to break away, but Yeng held her firm.
He turned her body round slowly, and thrust her into the Buddha's arms. The big glass prick butted up against her well-whipped butt, and she shuddered at the contact. The prick was pleasantly warm, at body heat. She looked round at the others, but she could not catch their eyes. The Indo-Chinese were kneeling before the statue, adoring it while Martin's burning gaze was concentrated on the inner surface of her slightly-parted thighs.
Suddenly she felt as if some mysterious force were drawing her into the arms of the smiling statue and her nipples went hard and stiff on her breasts as she realized, almost with a shock, that she had decided, deep down in her mind, to make love to the Buddha. Again she looked round at the others, trying to make out their faces in the dim light, but all she could see clearly was Mai's small firm breasts, standing proudly on her beautiful slender torso. They were very still-indeed, the whole room was still, for they were anxious not to disturb Denise, or frighten her in any way, for it was necessary that she should go to the Buddha of her own free will, and they did not yet know that she had already decided to give her body to him.
Then she squatted down and opened her legs. The tip of the huge phallus slid softly between her buttocks, into the cleft between the two burning, whip-marked globes. Denise found herself as excited as though it were a real man taking her and she wriggled her loins until she felt the glass rod touch her puckered arsehole. Once again she tried to catch Martin's eye, but he was staring, hypnotized, between her legs, watching the Buddha's prick approach her cunt.
Denise shifted her position slightly, and caught hold of the Buddha's outstretched arms to support herself. Her movement brought the glass phallus between her cunt lips; the sudden sensation made her shiver with pleasure, and she realized her cunt had gone all moist. She lowered herself gently, shuddering all over as she felt the big rod slide slowly into her vagina Although her cunt was being almost painfully stretched (for the Buddha's prick was really too big for her) she wanted, for some perverse reason, to feel herself utterly raped, to experience the sensation of the glass rod prodding the very mouth of her womb.
Across the room she could see Martin watching the spectacle with avid interest, mouth open and eyes glued to the big glass rod slowly disappearing within her body. The realization that her lover was watching-and enjoying-her rape by the Buddha's prick made her feel suddenly very lustful. She felt the muscles of her vagina relax, and the glass rod-now all slimy with her juices-slipped another inch into her body, so that she caught her breath at the delicious sensation. Soon the huge cylinder had been swallowed up within her body, and her aching buttocks were pressed tight against the smooth, warm rotundities of the Buddha's stomach, while at the centre of her being, the rounded glass hump of his pubis was flattening her cunt lips on either side.
Denise was now completely impaled on the idol's monstrous prick. She rested there, her whole body palpitating with the lascivious sensation, until Mai rose to her feet and came over to whisper in her ear, "Give yourself to the Buddha now, and let your song of love rise upwards. " Again, Denise recognized the wording from her invitation. With her hands on the Buddha's arms, she lifted her body up until the glass prick was on the point of sliding completely out of her cunt, then she let herself down again. The renewed penetration brought such a wonderful sensation within her that she almost swooned. Her head went back and a cry of ecstasy burst from her; as Mai had foretold, her song of love was rising upwards to the stars.
From somewhere another pink spotlight came to life, focused neatly between Denise's parted legs to illumine the Buddha's prick and the fresh young cunt impaled upon it. As she realized that her fucking by the statue was being revealed in all its intimate detail to the three watchers in the room, a fresh wave of lust swept over her. Her last shreds of inhibition vanished, and she gave herself over to the pleasures of her body, enjoying herself like a rutting animal as she drove her body up and down on the glass prick. The phallus made a soft, wet, silky noise as it went in and out of her cunt-it sounded a little like a sticky, syrupy kiss between two pairs of moistened lips.
Denise could feel her orgasm drawing closer. She started twisting her body as she went up and down on the Buddha's rod, so that her breasts swayed and jiggled from side to side, like a lascivious Oriental dancer's. The room was very still; there was no sound but the panting of her breath and the squeak of her wet cunt against the glass, and every now and then a raucous cry of pleasure as the Buddha's prick touched some new sensitivity within her vagina.
Towards the end, her body was literally bouncing up and down, and she was crying out almost ceaselessly, but she was very weary, and the constant reaming action of her body was visibly exhausting her. Mai came to her assistance, anxious that the offering to the Buddha should not be marred, and held her underneath the arms, to help her fuck herself into orgasm.
Denise cried out very loudly as she came, writhing ecstatically on the Buddha's huge prick, and biting at one of Mai's breasts as she jerked and shuddered through a spend more exciting than she had ever experienced before. At the end, she collapsed limply against the outstretched arms of the statue, all her consciousness drawn downwards into her tired, twitching cunt.
Then Yeng's strong arms lifted her from the Buddha, and she felt herself being lowered in a kneeling position to the floor. He bent her body forward and she was glad to rest her weary head on the soft rug. Then he was kneeling behind her and his long, stiff prick was pressing urgently against her arsehole. She was quite limp with fatigue, and hardly felt him penetrate her. She thought to herself that she was too exhausted to feel further pleasure, but his skilled hands came round her body to play cunningly with her clitoris and her nipples. Nearby, there was a sudden cry of pain from Mai as Martin thrust himself inside her slim little body. She did not know where, but knowing Martin, she guessed that he was buggering the Indo-Chinese girl and his cock was very large.
The combination of Yeng's artful titillation and the knowledge of Mai's pain was enough to send her once more up the ladder of pleasure, until they all four came together in a symphony of inarticulate erotic cries that bore testimony to the intensity of their orgasms.
So ended the Feast of Lambda, with Denise utterly spent by her experiences. The two Indo-Chinese supported her in their arms back to the main salon, and dressed her in her miniskirt, her silk blouse with the breast-holes, and her high-heeled shoes. Then Yeng looked at her gravely, bowed to her ceremoniously, and said softly, "Other Feast-days will be celebrated in this house, to which it will be our pleasure to invite you. " Denise looked at him out of her tired, dark-circled eyes; her hand stole unconsciously to her throbbing, well-whipped butt; then she said quietly, "I shall accept your invitations-always. "
Then Martin put her coat around her, and together they went out to the waiting Rolls-Royce that was to take them home.
* * *
THE BRIDE
She struggled a little as they brought her to where Count Albrecht and Father Xavier were waiting, but she was more than half-tipsy from the wine she had drunk at the wedding-breakfast, and the three burly peasants were too strong for her.
Instinctively, she glanced over at Count Albrecht, who was leaning against one of the pillars. She found herself comparing his lean, dark, handsome features with the good-natured peasant's face of her husband beaming foolishly at her throughout the wedding-ceremony. How Jan had shamed her afterwards at the table, falling forward like that right at her side, face down among the dishes! (She did not know that his wine had been well-laced with narcotic, so that he would know nothing till the dawn. )
Father Xavier stepped forward. "You know why you are here," he said softly. "In accordance with the tradition of the Castle, Count Albrecht will transform you into a real woman. But first, you must confess your sins!"
He moved a stool close to her and sat down, but the young bride cried out, "No! Not here-not in front of these men!"
The monk rose and took a supple cane from a table at his back. "If you are not here on your knees before me within thirty seconds, I shall chastise you on your bare buttocks, as you deserve!"
Sbe looked at him, then shook her head. At his signal, two of the peasants seized her hands and lifted the white wedding-dress up at the back, till her plump little buttocks appeared, neatly moulded in her white silk panties. Then the third man rolled the pants down onto the white stockings.
Father Xavier whipped her six times across the naked butt, each stroke leaving a nice red welt on the soft flesh and drawing a cry of pain from the bride as she twisted in the grasp of the grinning peasants.
"Answer me now! Are you ready to confess your sins?" He stroked the naked, throbbing buttocks with the tip of the cane. The bride shivered, and cried, "Yes, yes! Please-don't hurt me any more!"
The monk set her before his stool and bade her bend forwards, hands clasped before her. Then he sat down and confessed her, fondling her bare flesh with his hands as he made her admit, little by little, all the sexual caresses that she had either given or received. Then he said, "For your penitence, my child, you will offer the sacrifice of your modesty. Then this impudent butt of yours will receive the punishment it so richly deserves. Then Count Albrecht will make a woman of you. "
The bride blushed at these words, but when Father Xavier ordered her to remove her dress she obeyed readily enough. Under her dress she was wearing only a chemise (her panties had fallen down round her ankles). It was almost transparent, and scarcely veiled the thick black fur of her bush, or the pinky-brown nipples.
"Lift your chemise and show your belly!"
She hesitated, staring open-mouthed at the monk; then she cried out in pain. Count Albrecht had whipped her smartly across the backs of her thighs, twice, with a leather thong. The chemise flew up and for a long time the men stared at the smooth round belly with its deep-pitted navel.
"Take it off. Your panties too. "
The bride shivered, as Count Albrecht's thong sang in the air. Then she was naked, save for her white stockings, her long white gloves, and her white veil.
The room was heavy with lust as the five men gazed hungrily at the voluptuous body. Count Albrecht gestured towards the ropes hanging from the ceiling. Two of the peasants seized the girl and fastened her wrists, widespread, in leather bracelets so that she made a pink Y suspended from above. Her pose made the firm breasts thrust proudly forward, towards the watching men.
They came over to her.
"No! No, please let me go! NO! Aaaah!-" She could not help crying out under the odious caresses of the hands on her breasts, on her buttocks, on her cunt. The men sucked at her nipples and caressed her between the legs. She kept twisting in her bonds, trying vainly to free herself. In her struggles, she kicked Father Xavier on the leg. He gave her two vicious blows with his cane across her thighs, then spread her legs and imprisoned them in two leather anklets attached to the floor. Now she was an X, completely open, defenseless against her tormentors.
Count Albrecht stepped forward, a little scourge of thin knotted cords in his hand. He waved the others aside, and raised his arm. The bride screamed shrilly as the little lashes bit into the soft, firm flesh of her naked breasts, which danced enticingly as she writhed under the sudden pain. The whipping continued until both breasts were an angry red all over. Then Count Albrecht leaned forward and took each of the swollen nipples in turn between his lips, teasing them with his tongue until they stood rigid on the aching globes. Meanwhile, his hands were busy between the girl's legs. She cried out while he was playing with her cunt in this fashion, when his probing finger bruised her maidenhead.
He smiled with pleasure at her cry, then he handed the scourge to Father Xavier, saying, "It's your turn now. Whip that naughty bottom well!"
The monk set to with a will and soon the bride was undulating in her bonds in a most lascivious way as the hard little knots bit relentlessly at her defenseless butt. Count Albrecht set a mirror on the floor between her legs, propping it up so that her cunt was fully visible; as the whipping proceeded, the little mouth kept opening and shutting, just as though it were begging for mercy.
When the whole surface of the lovely writhing butt was a nice angry red, Father Xavier laid the scourge aside. Count Albrecht kissed the panting mouth, while his hands played with increasing urgency over the scarlet breasts and widespread cunt, but the monk drew him back with the words, "Not yet, my son! This wilful sinner has not yet confessed all her sins. She must do so, and repent!" He stationed himself behind her, the thin cane once more in his hand.
"How many times have you touched your slit with your fingers?"
Dumb with embarrassment, she made no answer. The cane cracked home between her legs, catching her cruelly along the open cunt. She screamed, and jerked convulsively in her bonds.
"Well?" said Father Xavier.
Again she hesitated and again there was a shrill cry as the cane whipped her cunt.
"Enough!-Yes, I've done it-often--. "
"When was the last time?"
"The day before yesterday. "
"Who else has touched your slit?"
"Nobody--. "
"Liar!"-the cane landed in the moist cunt with a squelching 'Thwlck!'
"Yes, yes!" she cried. "Other people have-you, and the schoolteacher, and a boy from the city last year-and Jan--. "
"And--? "
"That's all--. "
"Liar!"-once more, the cane.
"Ayeee! No more-yes-I'll tell you-some girls at school-and Jan's father. "
"Ah! Now the slut admits it! And how many big fat pricks have you had in your arsehole?" Count Albrecht watched fascinated in the mirror as the monk teased the inside of the pretty cunt with the tip of his cane.
"Well-Jan's father. "
"Often?"
"More than once-and--. "
"And--? "
"And the schoolteacher, twice--. "
"Is that all. "
"Yes-I swear it!"
"You bitch!" shouted Father Xavier. "And you refused me!! " He caned her twice between the legs, very violently, so that for a moment or so she was absolutely paralyzed with the pain, and could not even cry out.
Count Albrecht motioned to the peasants, and they released the bride-but only to lay her down on a bench, with her thighs apart and doubled back so that her cunt gaped open. Count Albrecht's head came down and as the men held her immobile, he sucked the girl's cunt skillfully till she was groaning with pleasure. Finally she began to shudder helplessly, then her belly undulated rhythmically, and she came in violent jerks.
The five men undressed and made the bride stand with her legs apart and bend forward to suck their pricks, each in turn, while the others played with her burning butt, or frigged her nicely on the clitoris. Only Father Xavier wished to come in her mouth and he made her swallow all his spunk, till she had drained him dry.
Next they made her kneel on the bench, tying her knees firmly, wide apart; then she had to lean right forward so that they could tie her wrists to the legs of the bench. In this position her whip-marked butt was sharply bent, so that her cunt and arsehole were quite unprotected.
Count Albrecht stationed himself behind her, and put his prick against the puckered butt-hole. The bride screamed as he buggered her, but she was powerless to resist him, and the big rod penetrated her distended anus until she could feel his balls against her open cunt. The others leaned forward to watch as he started moving rhythmically in and out of her butt. Soon, he was shuddering on the brink of orgasm under the contractions of the little muscled mouth around his tool. He held back once, but the second time his spunk would not be restrained, and he came vigorously, deep in her entrails, his strong fingers kneading at her martyred buttocks.
After he had withdrawn, he nodded to the peasants. One after the other, they stepped forward and buggered the helpless girl, heedless of her agonized twistings and pitiful cries. As the third man plowed the tormented butt, Count Albrecht and the monk moved closer to watch the fleshy piston sliding in and out of the painfully distended sheath. The man's belly slapped against her butt as he buggered her, and his prick made a damp squelching noise in her rectum. His orgasm was very violent, and made the bride cry out.
Now it was time to take the bride's virginity. At Count Albrecht's signal, the peasants moved her onto her back and held her firm for him, her legs once again doubled back along her belly, wide apart.
Count Albrecht stroked the firm breasts, still an angry red from the scourge. He put the tip of his prick between the parted lips of the open cunt.
When he came to the girl's maidenhead, he stopped his inward push, and moved his prick gently back and forth in the mouth of her cunt until she grew moist. The movement made his prick hard as iron and suddenly, when he judged the time ripe, he thrust forward savagely and broke her maidenhead. The raped girl uttered a pitiful cry, and tried vainly to escape, but the peasants held her firm, and the prick went deeper and deeper until it reached the bottom of her vagina.
Count Albrecht rested a little while he played with her breasts. Then he began to fuck her, slowly, while the others moved in to watch his prick going in and out of her cunt, covered with her blood, and with her come-juices.
Gradually the bride's pain grew less, and she started to experience pleasure. As he felt her grow more pliant, Count Albrecht increased his tempo, till in the end he was fucking her very rapidly, with all his strength. When she began surrendering completely, he ordered them to free her arms. She flung them around him, and drew his body down firmly onto her own. Then, shuddering and crying with pleasure, she went into orgasm. Her fiercely twitching cunt worked so vigorously on Count Albrecht's prick that he could not restrain himself and he too burst into a mighty spend, shooting his spunk in long, hot spurts high into her throbbing womb.
When he had finished with her, he gave her to the peasants again. She did not want to be fucked any more, and tried to resist as the first man advanced on her, prick in hand. But the other two mastered her easily, and her cries were soon stifled by the thick lips pressing down onto her own. This man did not make her come, but the second one had a nice large tool, and in spite of her disgust she found herself taking pleasure, and at the end she came quite violently, at the same time as the man. She lay passive under the attack of the third peasant and when he had left her, Count Albrecht found his prick stiffening again at the sight of the ravaged cunt leaking a little dribble of spunk faintly tinged with blood.
He whispered urgently to the monk, then he lay down on the bench, and the others made the bride straddle over him and impale herself on his prick. Then Father Xavier stepped forward and before the girl realized it he had penetrated her proffered arsehole.
Under the double attack, she was soon moaning with pleasure. The two men worked vigorously at the little naked body writhing on their rigid pricks, to be rewarded in the end by a lovely triple orgasm that had all three gasping and shuddering in ecstasy.
Then they let her dress again and she became once more the young bride of a few hours before. Only now there were violet shadows under her eyes, and there seemed less innocence in her face. Father Xavier led her over to the door, and the peasants took her out and brought her to the bridal-chamber where her husband lay in his drugged stupor.
* * *
I'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND WOMEN-
I'll never understand women, he thought, watching the little blonde's butt jiggle provocatively as she walked upstairs in front of him. This one could surely have any man she wanted. Young, good-looking, chic-she was all of these things. So why the devil was she paying for it?
He wondered whether Erica knew the things he was going to do to her, under the very detailed instructions which they had given him. Presumably she did, since she was paying for his services-or so They said. (He had learnt early in his association with Them that it was not always sound to accept Their statements at face value. )
They were inside her apartment now, and it was time to establish his dominance over her-that was the object of the whole thing, wasn't it? He sat down in one of the comfortable overstuffed armchairs. The apartment was very plush. Clearly, Erica had money. He snapped his fingers, not looking at her. "Cigarette," he said lazily. She flushed at his tone, but moved over to him with an open box. "Light it! She came closer, the flame trembling slightly as she held it to his cigarette.
His hand went under her skirt and moved slowly up the warm softness of her inner thigh. Erica shuddered, and drew her breath in with a hiss. Her big gray-green eyes gazed into his, as if hypnotized, as the hand went higher, up over the exciting curve of a silk-clad buttocks, until he was grasping the top of her flimsy panties. The hand went to and fro across her trembling butt, drawing the elastic band downwards a little more each time it moved from side to side, till finally the panties fell to the ground, and she was naked underneath her skirt.
Her eyes closed as the hand explored her secret parts, pressing forward between the cheeks of her fresh young butt to play briefly with the warm, crinkly rosebud of her hole. She turned round at his order, and for a long moment his hand moved purposefully over her cunt, then he made her open her legs, and she gasped as he bent her body forward with his other hand. When the probing thumb and forefinger entered her body and began massaging the thin membrane between her two holes, she cried out softly; but she made no attempt to pull away, and he sensed that she was beginning to enjoy her humiliation.
He ordered her to the bedroom and there he stripped her, swiftly and efficiently, carefully avoiding all semblance of playfulness or affection, as They had instructed. He looked at her appraisingly when she was naked, noting the firm breasts with their little coral nipples-up-pointed now, and standing hard like tiny thimbles; the deep pit of her navel, set deep in the gently-rounded belly; and below, the curly blonde triangle of her bush, pointing downwards to the warm cleft with which he had already played.
When he thought of what he was about to do to her, his prick went hard with desire. The room was exactly as They had described it in their instructions and he knew which drawer to go to in the big chest. Even though he knew what he would find there, he gasped in disbelief at what he saw. Whips, dildoes, handcuffs, birches, gags everything piled in confusion; leather masks, whalebone switches, lengths of cord with loops and slip-knots.
He handcuffed her hands in front of her body, opened a cupboard door, and threw a cord over the top of it. He tied one end to the chain of the handcuffs, and pulled till Erica was straining upwards on tiptoes, face to the door, her slim little body elongated to the limit. She had not struggled, or protested in any way, while he was attaching her. Suddenly, this sheep-like acceptance angered him-she was too nice a person to behave like this!
He shed his clothes quickly and ran over to the drawer where he had seen a small leather tawse with three tongues, not too heavy. Before he started whipping her, he put his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth, thrusting his tongue fiercely against hers, but she would not respond, and this made him more angry with her. His cock was very hard as he started strapping her beautiful firm white butt; the red kisses left by the leather thongs spread swiftly over the surface and soon Erica was writhing and squirming against the door, crying out in pain, so that he grew excited and whipped her harder. Finally he threw the tawse aside, and took her in his arms again, working his prick up and down the crack in her well-smacked butt until he nearly came.
He untied her from the door, undid her handcuffs, and replaced them behind her back. The pose made her firm breasts jut out proudly from her chest. He sucked at them a little, till the nipples were hard, then he picked up the tawse and started smacking her. Her eyes opened wide at the sudden pain, and she cried out in horror, but the two lovely globes were an even angry red before he stopped tormenting them.
He made her kneel in front of him and for a moment or two he buried his prick between the hot, swollen tits, squeezing them together with his hands to make a deep, fleshy valley which he fucked urgently once or twice, while Erica groaned in pain. Then he pushed her to the floor and rolled her over onto her back with his foot. He stood over her, straddling her, then stooped down till he was squatting over her, with his open butt above her face. He went on down, till he was sitting lightly on her, his arsehole pressed against her mouth.
Erica made muffled noises of protest, but he knew that this was only part of the game they were playing. He tugged at the nipples on the hot, aching breasts, and said firmly, "Put your tongue in!" It felt wonderful, and he could have stayed there forever. "Deeper!" he ordered and the probing tongue reamed him desperately, till once again he almost came. But he knew it was still early in the programme They had laid down (or was it Erica?) and he held off.
Reluctantly, he got up from her, and sat down on a low stool, then he called her over to him, grinning at the awkward movements of her slim little body as she struggled up, hampered by her hands behind her back. He made her kneel in front of him, then he grabbed her by the hair and pulled the lovely face down to his stiff cock.
At first she would not gam him, and he had to pinch her smartly on the nipples before she would take his prick into her mouth. She gagged as he thrust deeper into her; then he ordered firmly, "Suck me!" and she began to work her soft mouth back and forth along his throbbing rod.
He felt suddenly very masterful, and decided he would whip her again before he took her. He got up, and pushed her before him over to the bed. He took stout leather wrist-cuffs and anklets from the drawer and strapped them onto her. Erica whimpered, "No!" as he made her lie face-down on the bed, but he tied her out to the four corners, and whipped her with a scourge of thin knotted cords across her lovely butt and the backs of her thighs, until she was hoarse with screaming. Then he fucked her very vigorously from behind, rolling his flat belly to and fro across the hot, swollen buttocks as he plowed deeply into her helpless body.
She came very copiously, just before he did and as he listened to her wordless cries of ecstasy, he wondered again why it was that she could not get satisfaction from being loved normally.
Now there came a tricky bit in Their instructions to him. He had to piss on her. He had never pissed on a woman before and though he wanted to piss very badly, he was not sure whether he would be able to do it on this pretty girl whom he had just fucked so enjoyably. He cursed Them silently, but he knew at once that that was worse then useless. With a sigh, he released Erica from her bonds and pushed her into the bathroom.
"Get in there!" he ordered, pointing to the bathtub, but she refused. He had to use the scourge several times on her sore, aching butt before she complied, and climbed in. Somewhat to his consternation, she lay down on her back. He had envisaged her crouching on her hands and knees beneath him, but now she was offering him the front of her body, watching him intently out of her big gray-green eyes as she lay there.
He followed her into the tub, and stood straddling the slim naked body with the scarlet breasts. She moved slightly, and rubbed up against his leg and the unexpected contact triggered something off inside him, so that almost before he realized it he was pissing steadily on her, while she squirmed below him. He realized, with a shock, that she was enjoying herself. He started back in surprise, and his movement drove the golden stream of urine steadily up her body, over her breasts. She wriggled lower, deliberately, and took some of the liquid in her open mouth-
Erica's enjoyment in her own degradation sickened him, and he finished pissing as quickly as he could. Then he turned on the cold water, feeling a childish satisfaction at her sudden shriek as the water hit her. He rinsed his feet under the running tap, went back to the bedroom, and threw himself down on the bed. For a while there was silence in the bathroom, then he heard Erica taking a shower. He was tired from his fierce orgasm, and he found the steady drumming of the water soothing, so that he dozed off quickly.
He woke suddenly, at the touch of her fingers on his body, feeling very randy. Erica was stooping over the bed, running her finger-tips feather-light over his stomach, the insides of his thighs, his prick and balls, so that he had a good hard cockstand on. In that position, her breasts were hanging down freely from her body, swaying with her movements. They were not in the least flabby, even hanging down like that and he saw that the angry red left by the tawse had faded.
She smiled at him when she saw he was awake and suddenly his heart went out to her, and he knew he was going to fuck her simply and naturally-no matter what They had said. Her eyes widened as he grasped the hanging breasts, gently bur firmly. Then he pulled her down on top of him, and rolled her over onto her back.
I might just as well be fucking a stone statue, he thought incredulously. Erica was simply lying there, her face set, enduring him. "Kiss me!" he said angrily, but she made no response. "Why can't you kiss me?" She moved her head sideways, her eyes blank, as if she were bored to tears by him.
His anger mounted, and he withdrew roughly from her lovely little body. The leather cuffs and anklets were lying by the bed, where he had dropped them after fucking her before. He put them back on her, then went over to the drawer and took out a leather dog-whip.
"Get up!" he ordered, but she just lay there, looking at him. He had to whip her twice across her unprotected belly before she would obey. The thong left long welts across the naked flesh and she was moaning with pain when he pushed her to the ground and clipped her wrist-cuffs to her anklets, so that she was kneeling hunched up into a ball. Then he whipped her, heedless of her piercing screams, till her back and buttocks were crisscrossed with angry red welts. Then he greased her arsehole thoroughly, with vaseline from a jar standing on her night-table, and buggered her brutally, till his spunk shot into her entrails in hot, urgent spurts, and he heard himself shouting out in exultation.
Later, he made her get up onto her feet. With her wrists still tied to her ankles, she found this very difficult, but then he ordered her to walk about, and this was even harder. He grew dissatisfied with her laborious progress, and picked up the little scourge of knotted cords. He followed on behind her, flicking the hard little lashes upwards between her legs, till she could stand the pain no longer and fell over onto the floor.
Whipping Erica on the cunt had given him a cockstand again, although it was not long since he had come inside her arsehole. He remembered Their instructions-he was to have her everywhere, so now he brought over the long, low footstool from the foot of the bed, untied her, and made her lie down on her back. Then he tied her hands and feet to the four legs of the bench, so that the front of her body lay defenseless beneath his hands. He played with her for a while, nibbling at her coral nipples and tickling her clitoris, till she was almost beside herself, and the red gash of her cunt was swimming with her juices. He picked out a good big dildo from the drawer and pushed it up her, while at the other end he straddled the bench above her face, and slowly lowered himself down till his prick was deep into her mouth and he fucked her with rapid in-and-out strokes, working the dildo in her cunt meanwhile, until they both creamed together. Erica was moaning in ecstasy as she sucked at his spurting prick. Her own orgasm left nothing to be desired-and again he found himself wondering why such a lovely girl could not enjoy a normal lover.
They were both tired now and they lay down on the bed and slept in each other's arms for several hours. He was happy while he was asleep, and had exciting dreams. Every now and then he would half-awaken, feel the warm little body in his arms, and fall asleep again, contented.
It was daylight when he woke. He felt himself growing angry as he remembered what he had to do to her now-angry with Them, angry with himself, angriest of all with Erica. I wouldn't have to do this if she weren't so bloody kinky, he said to himself (but he knew at the same time that part of him was licking its lips with pleasure at the prospect).
Erica was still asleep. He wakened her brutally with a savage rape, pulling her body to the edge of the bed and throwing her legs right up and back so that she was wide open and defenseless. Then he penetrated her till his crisp black bush grated against her blonde cunt-curls, and fucked her mercilessly till she cried out in pain even as she exploded into orgasm on his jerking, spending prick.
When they had finished coming, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her over to the bathroom. She knew what awaited her, and started sobbing, but he made her get into the tub, half-lifting her, half-pushing. When she was inside, lying passively, he got into the tub himself and straddled her, turning his back to where her face was and crouching over her.
Then he shit on her.
When he had finished, he got out of the tub and went over to the toilet to wipe himself. He went into the bedroom, not looking at Erica, and lay down on the bed, despising himself for having allowed his life to come to such a pass as this. . He could hear Erica in the shower and he wondered dimly what had happened to her in her life, to make her be the way she was. Then she came out, all naked and glowing from the shower, fresh as a young daisy, and very blonde and beautiful. The big gray-green eyes looked into his, filled with dumb devotion, like a dog's, an old childhood tag came into his mind-
"A woman, a spaniel, a walnut tree-
The more you whip 'em, the better they be!" and he knew he was going to whip her again, and then fuck her till she could hardly stand. He knew, too, that this was what she wanted.
He went over to the drawer and took out the tawse with the three thongs. Hell, he thought, I'll just never understand women.
* * *
VAE VICTIS!
For the Emperor's twenty-fifth birthday, I provided a special divertissement.
Though the cares of state make him appear to the outside observer to be a somewhat serious young man, he does in fact possess a perfectly normal capacity for enjoyment. Indeed, I find that the private spectacles which I arrange for him from time to time, in my capacity as Chamberlain, are becoming more and more immodest, at his oft-repeated personal urging. As he says, all men have their secret dreams, though few can translate them into reality. It would be foolish to pretend that he is not one of these fortunate few and who am I to blame him for his decision to profit from this fact? In his public life, he must of necessity be restrained and circumspect, by virtue of his position. His decisions can, and do, affect the well-being-even the very lives-of millions of his subjects. Thus I cannot find it in me to censure him for choosing to make his private life the colorful and zesty affair which it undoubtedly is. (Besides, I rather enjoy a good orgy, myself!)
He is fond of me-or at least I like to think so and I am always at ease in his presence, so I found no difficulty in discussing the evening's entertainment with him.
"May I suggest, Your Majesty, that you terminate your Birthday Reception no later than seven o'clock this evening? That would enable you to dine and bathe at your leisure and perhaps nine o'clock would be a suitable time to start the performance?"
"That sounds excellent, Julian," he replied.
"What sort of naughtiness have you arranged for me this time, I wonder?"
"A special private showing of an entertainment entitled 'Vae Victis', Your Majesty. "
"'Woe To The Vanquished', eh? What happens?"
"Surely you don't want me to spoil the surprise for you, Your Majesty! I must say no more than this: There is a contest. One side wins, one side is defeated. There is 'woe for the vanquished'. Your Majesty will watch the spectacle in highly novel and-er-comfortable surroundings and I am entirely confident that you will find the performance to your liking. "
"So am I, Julian," he answered, "so am I. You always do me proud, don't you, you old dog?" He grinned, and punched me playfully on the shoulder, then he swept out of the room, pausing at the door to look back at me and say, "Nine o'clock it is, then. "
He was all impatient and excited, like a schoolboy anxious for a promised treat, as I led him down to the Walled Court at nine o'clock that evening. He looked at me quizzically when he saw the oval arena I had had set up and his eyebrows went up in interrogation at the sight of the two 'hitching rails' set one at either end of the oval, each carrying a half-dozen wrist-cuffs dangling from short lengths of chain, but I merely shook my head at him with a conspiratorial grin, and drew him onwards to the door of the pavilion from which he would watch the spectacle.
The pavilion was quite small, some eight feet square, and as many high; and I had had it constructed midway along one side of the arena-in the correct position for what it in fact was-namely, the 'Royal Box'. Sides and roof were of thin plywood, masked on both sides with silk bunting.
Their only purpose was to ensure the Emperor's privacy within the pavilion. Once inside the door, one found oneself in a narrow catwalk some three feet wide, running to left and right along the back wall. This was there merely to give freedom of movement to the occupant. To the front lay a solidly-constructed wooden ramp stretching from wall to wall, and running up from the ground (three feet inside the door) to a level about five feet above the ground (at the front of the pavilion). There was a solid foot-ledge running right across the bottom of the ramp, and this made the thing look not unlike some vast reading-lectern set at a 45-degree slope.
It was clear that the occupant of the pavilion was intended to lie on his stomach on the sloping ramp, (which was comfortably padded with foam rubber, covered with white linen cloth) and the foot-ledge was at such a height that his head would be in the right position to see perfectly over the front edge of the ramp, and down into the arena below.
When the Emperor saw what awaited him in the ramp, he burst into a guffaw of appreciation. Four holes had been cut to my orders in the surface of the ramp and through these holes four girls were offered for his personal delectation.
Halfway up the ramp and lying centrally was an oval hole, which ran up and down the slope of the ramp, behind this hole (or 'under' it, if you prefer) I had had my men tie out a red-haired dancing-girl with a slim, athletic body. A wide metal bar underneath her buttocks kept her mons Veneris thrust tightly forward into the hole and her long legs were spread wide apart and secured with ankle-cuffs that held them firm against the underside of the ramp. Her arms were bound behind her back, and she was gagged (as were the other girls as I did not wish the Emperor's attention to be diverted from the spectacle in the arena by any cries or moans within the pavilion itself) and the upper part of her body was held tight against the underside of the ramp by broad leather straps. From above, all that could be seen was first the red triangle of her bush, at the top of the oval 'window' and then the lips of her cunt, parted as if in a smile of welcome to reveal the fresh red interior all ready for the Emperor's prick and then, disappearing out on either side, the smooth, white, creamy flesh of the inner thighs. As I have said, her body was slim and athletic and she had no trouble in achieving the somewhat acrobatic pose forced upon her by the bar behind her buttocks, which kept her pelvis pushed forward so that she seemed to be actually offering her open cunt through the hole and in this position the red button of her clitoris was perhaps the most vulnerable part of her whole body.
The Emperor was quite delighted. He saw at once that his own pubic region would sink down into the unoccupied bottom portion of the oval hole, so that his cock and balls would lie a little below the surface of the ramp; then a slight pressure of his feet against the footboard would send him upwards along the ramp till his prick was lodged deep inside the red-bushed cunt waiting helplessly for his penetration.
His eyes moved further up the ramp. Some two-thirds of the distance between the first hole and the top of the ramp lay two more 'windows'. These were almost circular in shape and I had had them located about three feet apart-just where the hands of a man lying out along the ramp would fall naturally and comfortably. These two holes held a pair of identical twins-eighteen-year-old coffee-colored octoroons from the Caribbean. They were not in fact very pretty girls (though they had lovely, breathtaking figures), but after all, it was not their faces that were being presented to the Emperor! Each of them had been hog-tied with her knees up to her shoulders, outside her firm young breasts, so as to show her cunt nicely opened and then she had been stuffed, butt-first, upwards into the hole, through which her doubled-up buttocks protruded to form an enticing mountain of coffee-colored flesh some five or six inches high. Special harnesses had been contrived to hold the girls firmly pressed against the under-surface of the ramp. They lay in these, bound and gagged, with their backs towards the arena and their bodies tilted forward as far as possible towards the 'toe' of the ramp, so that their private parts were at the most convenient angle for the Emperor's hands. In each round 'window', the trim brown arsehole lay at the top, towards the head of the ramp, then came the open-mouthed vagina, lying invitingly between the parted cunt-lips with their fringe of crisp black hairs, and finally the glistening red nub of the clitoris, peering out from the top of the curly bush.
Close to each girl, a small wooden stand was affixed to the surface of the ramp; this carried a choice of dildoes, should the Emperor tire of frigging her with his fingers-two cunt-dildoes of formidable proportions, one smooth, one fitted with a bristle-ring, and two slimmer arsehole-dildoes, a smooth one, and one made from a nine-inch length of knobby bamboo.
Once again, the Emperor was highly delighted at the prospect of the pleasures which lay before him. But there was still the fourth 'window' to be examined and when he saw this final offering, he turned and shook me warmly by the hand, protesting his gratitude and satisfaction in tones that were obviously completely genuine.
This last hole was somewhat smaller than the others. It was set centrally, right at the very top of the ramp-or, at least, as near the top as could be managed after making allowances for the curled-up body of a young fourteen-year-old blonde beneath the ramp. Her private parts were protruding from the hole, just like those of the two octoroons, only they would lie beneath the Emperor's mouth, not his hands, when he lay down on the ramp. The girl was young, and small, and fresh, and the sight of her cunt and arsehole, as presented through the 'window' ready for the Emperor's tongue, inevitably brought the word delicate to one's mind. They were so neat, and trim, and somehow fragile, and there was something almost poignantly beautiful in the thought of this virile young man licking, nibbling, sucking at those exquisite treasures until they were writhing and jerking in the throes of orgasm.
"Highly novel, Julian, and very comfortable. Just as you said! Thank you, old friend. " he murmured, his voice thickened with lust. Then he threw off his robe, stepped up onto the ramp, over the foot-rest, and lowered his body down. Within a matter of seconds he had guided his stiff prick into the redhead's open cunt and moved his body forward till he was penetrating her to the hilt. Then his hands and head came down and he started gently titillating the three captive cunts I had provided for his entertainment, while imparting a steady rocking movement to his pelvis by pushing rhythmically with his feet against the ledge.
" 'Vae Victis' awaits Your Majesty's permission to proceed," I said. "This is a whip-fight, Your Majesty, between two teams of naked girls-the Blacks versus the Whites. Each team will strive to render its opponents incapable, and attach them one by one to its 'hitching rail'-Whites at one end, Blacks at the other. At the end, the winning team admits a dozen of its own men folk into the arena, releases its captives one by one, whips them soundly, and hands them over to the waiting men, who sandwich them vigorously right in front of your pavilion. Then they take them away and wreak their lust upon them throughout the rest of the night. "
" 'Woe To The Vanquished' indeed, Julian!" He raised his head from the little blonde's private parts. He had been piercing her arsehole with his tongue, and already his chin was shiny with the juices from the child's twitching cunt as he brought her close to her orgasm. "Of course-let them start at once!" I saw him pick up the knobbly bamboo arsehole-dildoes as I turned to take my departure and I knew that the heavy scent of spunk and come-juices would soon be making its presence felt within the little pavilion. I raised my arm as I closed the door on the Emperor lying on his ramp with its four delightful 'picture windows' and the arena gates opened at my signal to admit the two teams at either end.
They made a fine spectacle as they marched in and formed up in a single line in front of the Emperor's pavilion-twelve superb young naked bodies-six Whites (who consisted of two blondes, two brunettes, a redhead, and a raven-haired Spanish beauty), and six Blacks (who covered the field from 'high yaller' to coal black). All were beautifully formed and bursting with healthy and vigor (I had of course chosen strong, robust girls who had some chance of withstanding the terrible biting pain of the rhino-hide whips, and I doubt if the six members of either team weighed much less than 900 lbs. together).
For a moment, they stood to attention, each with her wire head-mask under her left arm and her whip trailing in her right hand. Then, at a signal from my assistant standing to one side of the pavilion, the twelve right arms came up. His finger dropped, and the cruel five-foot thongs thudded as one onto the sand of the arena in a formal salute to the Emperor. Then the two teams drew apart, to don their fencing-masks and buckle the straps round their throats (the rhino-hide whips were quite capable of laying the bare flesh open and leaving permanent scars and of course we had no desire to mark their faces). Finally they turned to face each other, each team standing more or less in a straight line some twenty feet away from its opponents. I nodded to my assistant, who struck a resounding blow on a gong. 'Vae Victis' was officially under way.
First blood went to the Blacks. The two lines had been advancing slowly towards each other, whips twitching restlessly, like the tail of an angry cat. No. 6 of the Black line-the one at the right-hand end-had been edging almost imperceptibly to her right, so that when the lines were only six or eight feet apart she was well outside No. l of the White line-who was of course additionally handicapped by being right-handed, so that her unguarded left flank was dangerously vulnerable.
With an audible 'Hah!' of expelled breath, the statuesque Black girl sprang forward; her whip sang through the air, to land with a solid 'Thwick!' across the fine solid buttocks of the White No. l. The tip curled on round and down, to leave an angry red mark slanting downwards across the top of her right thigh, at side and front. She staggered back, with a scream of agony, and stood motionless, shuddering under the wave of pain that coursed through her body, while her adversary moved round even further, right arm going up to administer the coup de grace.
But the triumph of Black 6 was short-lived.
White 2, a huge muscular blonde Juno of a girl who must have weighed all of 200 lbs, had seen the dangerous predicament of her neighbor. Her own attack on Black 5 had driven her opponent back in confusion and now White 2 seized her chance, and wheeled round to aid White I. There was a horrid smacking thud followed by a high-pitched scream; then Black 6 was rolling in agony on the ground, a terrible red welt burning across her breasts and round under her left arm-pit, where White 2's whip had struck her. Still shaking with pain, White I stumbled forward. Her lash came down, to catch the unhappy Black girl across her unprotected stomach. She rolled over in her agony and once again the blonde Juno's arm came up to deliver a dreadful blow across the Black girl's butt, which broke the skin on the right buttock, so that a little trickle of blood oozed from the redly-glistening raw patch.
That was all for Black 6. She was completely crippled by the pain of the three savage blows on her naked body and her two conquerors shouted with delight as they dragged her across the arena to the White 'hitching rail', and snapped a handcuff round her right wrist to keep her captive.
They were to find to their cost that they had made a serious error in tactics. Only one girl could be spared to take a defeated opponent to the 'hitching rail'. For two to go, as White I and 2 had just done, meant an unnecessary-and dangerous-weakening of their team. The Black leader had grasped this very clearly and as soon as she realized that the absence of White I and 2 gave her team a temporary numerical superiority-5 Blacks to 4 Whites-she shouted out the necessary instructions without hesitation.
At her bidding, Black I and 2 embroiled themselves with White 4, 5, and 6, driving forward with superhuman energy and striving at all costs to swing the knot of five naked bodies away to one side. They succeeded reasonably well, and White 3 found herself left totally alone, to face Blacks 3, 4, and 5. The unfortunate victim-who was the raven-haired Spanish girl-realized her danger, and turned to run-but too late; a cunning whip-stroke caught her round the ankles and she fell screaming to the ground. Within six seconds, she had received as many whip-strokes, and was lying unconscious on the sand of the arena, blood oozing here and there from the frightful livid welts that now crisscrossed her olive-golden flesh.
With a cry of triumph, Black 3, the leader, tapped one of her panting companions on the shoulder as a signal to take the fallen Spanish beauty to the hitching rail, then she and the remaining Black girl hastened over to the assistance of the hard-pressed Black I and 2, who were rapidly weakening under the punishing blows of their three opponents.
Black 3 wasted no time-for already she could see the two missing White girls turning away from their hitching rail, and she did not welcome the prospect of the big Junoesque White 2 being back in action. She urged her team on to greater efforts, and the four panting Blacks closed round the now beleaguered Whites.
Suddenly, one of the White girls took a wild blow across the wire face-mask of her helmet. She staggered back instinctively, and tripped. As she fell to the ground, her legs flew apart in mid-air. Black 2 saw her opportunity, and sent a shrewd backhander between the waving legs. The White girl shrieked on an almost inhuman note as the cruel rhino-hide lash caught her a slanting blowup the inside of one thigh, across the open cunt, and out across one buttock. For a moment or two she flopped in agony on the sand, squirming like a freshly-landed fish; then she rolled over onto her back, groaning with pain, and brought both hands down to her martyred crotch. The movement forced her two breasts into prominence between her upper arms and Black 2 needed no urging. Her whip flashed down with terrible force-no backhander this time, but a carefully-aimed blow delivered with all her strength, which raised bleeding weals across the White girl's arms and breasts, and left her almost incapable of movement. For the moment, the Black team could not remove her to their hitching rail, for now they had to withstand the onslaught of the newly-returned and comparatively fresh White I and 2. But it was not long before Black 5 returned to the fray after attaching the Spanish girl, and then the Black team were 5 to the Whites' 4.
Slowly, the weight of numbers made itself felt. During a lull in the fight, when both sides withdrew to catch their breath, the incapacitated White girl was taken to the hitching rail and pinioned next to her companions. Shortly afterwards, a third White girl gave up the fight, unable to withstand the pain of the whips across her naked body, but almost simultaneously, the Black leader was felled by a vicious stroke from the powerful blonde. However, the Blacks still retained numerical superiority and Black 3 was able to withdraw temporarily, and recover her strength, while the White girl was kept hors de combat by an occasional back-handed blow from one or other of the Black team, until their leader was sufficiently strong to seize her arm and frog-march her over to the hitching rail.
Then it was 5 against 3 and, understandably, the White team began to show despair. First one, then another fell beneath the whips of the five triumphant Blacks and finally, only the blonde Juno was left, screaming in rage and pain as her enemies closed round her. The Black leader tangled her whip with the White girl's and as the big blonde struggled to free her weapon, four vicious blows landed as one on her defenseless body. She wilted under the sudden pain, and one could actually see the strength draining out of her. The black arms rose again and when they fell, the whip-fight was over at last. Ten seconds later, White 2 had joined her companions at the Black hitching rail, and was tugging fruitlessly at the steel cuff around her wrist.
The panting Blacks discarded their helmets and whips, and gathered jubilantly round their leader, to be joined a moment or two later by Black 6, who had been released from the White hitching rail by my assistant, as soon as the Black victory had been established. The dark naked bodies were all glistening with sweat under the powerful arc lights and the play of the rippling muscles was fascinating to watch.
Now my men brought in the whipping-frame, on which the vanquished Whites were to suffer the painful humiliation of a ceremonial caning from their conquerors. The frame was a simple device, consisting of three horizontal metal bars, some foul feet long, set into a frame at either end.
One bar lay at floor level, and carried at either end a quick-release clamp in which one of the victim's ankles could be pinioned, thus forcing her to stand with legs apart. The middle bar lay almost directly above the first, but set back a little. It was at crotch-height for a tallish girl (as all the contestants proved to be) so that when the victim was bent forward over it, it prevented her from pulling her butt in. The top bar was not very much higher than the middle one, but it was set back nearly three feet, so that when the victim's wrists were imprisoned in the cuffs at either end of the bar, she was stretched taut from wrists to ankles in a bending position, with the middle bar forcing her to cock her naked butt up-and thus form a perfect target for her opponents' canes.
The rest of the punishment equipment consisted of a sort of umbrella-stand, in which a dozen thin, whippy 'schoolmaster's canes' were waiting.
Then the Black leader waved her arm, and the twelve Black men came running into the arena, to form line in front of the Royal Box and salute the Emperor, with raised arms. Between them, they covered every shade from bronze to black and the big muscular bodies, naked, and glowing with health, looked most exciting as the stiff pricks, all glistening with grease, wagged to and fro with their movements. All of them were big men, but there were two huge giants, with great solid clubs of flesh springing upwards from their loins and there could be no doubt that these were the stallions chosen to serve the big blonde mare, White 2, who had lasted out longer than any of her companions in the whip-fight.
With a whoop, the six Black girls darted over to their hitching rail, to return a moment later dragging their first victim-the black-haired Spanish beauty. She cried out piteously as they stretched her across the whipping-frame-and with good reason, for she had already taken two whip-strokes across her firm, springy, olive buttocks, and she knew that six cuts from the whippy canes would turn her butt into a flaming hell of agony. The Black queue formed, each girl plucking a cane from the waiting stand-
Just over a minute later the White girl, still screaming loudly, was being released from the frame by her two Black ravishers. The six angry red stripes across her quivering buttocks looked very painful-especially where they crossed the previous welts left by the whips; for there the skin was broken in several places and little rivulets of blood had made their mark-a well-whipped butt indeed! The Spanish girl had been unable to control her bladder under the onslaught of pain, and had peed herself copiously-much to the amusement of the Blacks. Now her legs could barely support her, so that she tottered in the grasp of the two grinning, lust-crazed Blacks. Her cries redoubled as her lovely body was bent forward by four strong hands, permitting one of her ravishers to ram his stiff prick unceremoniously between her pain-soaked buttocks, and so into her protesting arsehole. Then he seized her by the breasts, from behind, and jerked her rudely upright, so that her feet left the ground. The second Black thrust forward, between her quivering thighs. A shrill scream announced his forceful penetration of her cunt and then they were bouncing her up and down between them, their bellows of lust forming a counterpoint to her cries of pain as her martyred butt was driven brutally up and down against the rasping bush and hard-muscled belly of her buggerer.
The two men's orgasms were not long delayed; and we watched them stiffen into rigidity as they shot their spunk high into the two holes of the shouting White girl, who struggled ineffectually, suspended as she was over a foot above the ground between the two bodies pressed closely together at her crotch.
When they withdrew from her body she slumped to the ground and lay there, limp and panting, until one of the big Blacks stooped and lifted her, then threw her naked body over his shoulder. Finally, the pair of them marched out of the arena to the ribald shouts of their companions, with the Spanish girl sobbing bitterly as she was carried off to face a night of savage sexual excesses at the hands of her two tormentors.
Laughing and cheering, the Black girls ran once again to their hitching rail and the second White girl was dragged forward to face her martyrdom and then the third-and then the fourth. The fourth girl was the big blonde Juno and later, the Emperor expressed surprise that I had not kept her till the last-for she was obviously the 'plum' of the collection (and indeed, the spectacle of that magnificent body being mastered by the two Black giants, with the huge pricks sinking slowly, inexorably, into her two distended holes, was almost unbearably exciting-). But as I explained to him, she was a very strong girl and I wanted to be sure that enough Black men were left in the arena to overcome her, should she struggle. In the event, my precautions turned out to be unnecessary, for the six biting cuts across her whip-marked butt reduced her to pain-crazed helplessness no less than her companions, but I felt it better to be safe than sorry.
As the high-pitched cries of the final White victim died away, the victorious Blacks took up their helmets and whips once again, and moved into line in front of the Emperor's pavilion. Again there was the ceremony of the formal salute, with the cruel rhino-hide whips thudding in unison onto the sand of the arena. Then the six naked bodies turned into file with military precision and marched smartly from the scene of their recent victory. 'Vae Victis' was concluded.
The Emperor answered me readily enough when I knocked at the door of his pavilion. I went in, at his summons. He had risen from the padded ramp, and was sitting in his robe on the foot-ledge, facing the door. He looked tired but happy, I thought, and when he saw me, his face split into a grin.
"What a wonderful entertainment that was, Julian!" he said. "I really must congratulate you. "
I made the appropriate self-deprecatory noises. "That big blonde girl," he went on, "she was simply superb! I'd like to see her again-some sort of endurance test, perhaps? Work something out, Julian, there's a good fellow! And speaking of endurance, I don't think I did so badly myself! I kept the score on that delightful little creature up at the top there. " He gestured to the ramp behind him and I looked up towards the protruding buttocks of the little blonde. Her private parts looked raw and swollen and the insides of her slim white thighs were all streaked at the top with the dried juices of her many spends. But it was the delicate mounds of her parted buttocks that caught my eye. On each side, where the gaping crack climbed up and became the firm, springy butt-cheek, there were two livid bruises-almost wounds, for the skin was broken in several places. The marks were circular in shape, and declared their origin only too clearly. As he came, the Emperor had bitten the helpless butt till it bled. Four orgasms, four bites! No wonder the ravaged body lay still and motionless behind its 'picture window'; under the pain of the four savage bites, the little 14-year-old had fainted.
I ran my eye down to the middle pair of windows, where the two twins were displayed. They at least were still conscious-for the dildoes protruding from their bodies were in ceaseless, quivering motion and occasionally there would be a big twitch on one side or the other, as one of the coffee-colored bodies reacted to the sensations produced by the penetrating rods. Obviously, the Emperor had wished to produce the maximum effect, for in each arsehole the knobbly bamboo rod had been plunged at least six inches deep, while I could see, from the presence of the smooth dildo on each stand, that both cunts were harboring the wickedly exciting bristle-ring. Both girls had obviously been made to come many times; around each tired, swollen cunt-still clutching convulsively at the big rod with its maddening ring of bristles plunged deep into the vagina-the juices of the "multiple spends had dried chalky-white on the coffee-colored thighs.
Finally, I inspected the redhead in the bottom 'window'. She too was conscious-(and indeed, there was no reason why she should not be, for apart from the basic discomfort of her position, all that had happened to her was to be rogered very thoroughly by a virile young man). As I watched, her cunt-still moist and glistening-opened and closed quite slowly, looking for all the world as though it was heaving a deep sigh of utter weariness.
"And how did you enjoy the redhead, Your Majesty?" I enquired.
"She was absolutely superb!", he replied, very earnestly. And indeed, I knew he was not dissimulating, for the girl was truly a most gifted performer, with that rare and startling ability to control the muscles of her vagina so that she could masturbate a prick to orgasm without any outward movement, either of herself or of the man fucking her.
"In fact," he looked almost bashful, "I'd like you to have her cleaned up a little, and sent up to my quarters. Will you do that for me?" I moved over to the door, to whisper the necessary instructions to my assistant. When I turned back, the Emperor was idly frigging the pretty cunt, flicking playfully with his forefinger at the little red button of the clitoris. I coughed discreetly, and our eyes met, then slowly we both broke into a grin; and then we were laughing together like old friends-as indeed we are.
He put his arm round my shoulders, and pushed me before him out of the pavilion and so we left the Walled Court and made our way back to the Private Wing of the Palace.
