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This is story is fantasy and is only intended as such. It is writen to
be read by adults that can tell the difference 
between fantasy and reality.  


MORNING WELCOME (Chapter 3)
 
Mrs. Jones woke up at 6 AM but she didn't get out of bed right away.
Even though she 
knew Rebecca was suffering terribly she didn't allow herself to betray
her eagerness to 
release her daughter show.  For an hour she just lay in bed and fingered
herself while she 
watched her daughter suffer on the monitor. The sheets beneath Darcey's
hips were wet 
from her her own lubricating juices. Although there seemed to be nothing
dramatically 
active on the screen at the time the agony of the position showed on her
daughter. After 
coming 2 times She got out of bed and began her normal morning routine.
Mrs. Jones knew 
Beck would here that she was up because she wore her outrageous steel
toed stiletto 
slides. These are a high heeled shoe with a five inch heel, fashioned
after the basic pointy 
toed pump only they were backless. They also made a lot of noise on the
wooden and tile 
floors and Rebecca would hear it. She knew that Rebecca would be hoping
to see her right 
away since her mother was the only one that could release her before she
died and 
Rebecca didn't think she had much time left.
Mrs. Jones prepared herself a cheese and egg omelet along with buttered
toast and a cup 
of hot black coffee. She had earlier went outside to get the morning
paper and read it while 
leisurely eating and sipping coffee. After finishing with the paper Mrs.
Jones went to her 
bathroom and began toying with her make up and her dress.  She decided
that she would 
make herself look as dirty and whorish as she could pull off without
making a mockery of 
herself. She figured it would be the right look to separate her as much
as possible from her 
old image of mother, to her daughter. After a while it came to her that
the easiest way to do 
this was to wear minimal cloths, always wear the same cloths and never
wash them. A pair 
of black, seamed stockings worn with her deadly slides (mules) and a
beige garter belt 
would do the trick for her clothing. Mrs. Darcey Jones loved the idea
that in reality she was 
bare naked but wearing items that would draw the eye to her private
parts. Her breasts 
would always hang free from the restraint of a bra while at home. 
Conversely she would have Rebecca wearing a bra just about all the time
but her 
brassieres would give her udders no rest at all from pain. She had
already handcrafted four 
different types of brassieres, that  Rebecca would have to wear, that
filled this criterion. One 
was a very basic pin cushion bra which was an ordinary full cup brassier
lined with sharp 
thumb tacks. There were no less then 60 in each cup all attached with
epoxy glue. 
Rebecca's soft tits would be carefully positioned in each cup and then
the back and 
shoulder straps pulled tight driving the pins hard into the breast
tissue and skin. The large 
number of tacks would keep most of them from puncturing her skin but
that only made them  
more painful. If Mrs. Jones really wanted to see them sunk into
Rebecca's tits she would 
have to hammer them in. An old wooden dust broom she had would be
perfect in 
hammering in the tacks. Maybe she would use the breast cincher bra first
though. That one 
would begin the process of stretching her daughters young tits while
making them ever so 
ready for a bit of torture. Darcey enjoyed thinking about this decision.
For makeup Mrs. Jones would keep things simple with the traditional
bright red lips, a very 
pale foundation and some rouge on the cheeks and blue eye shadow.  Some
work with a a 
black eye brow pencil and mascara would complete the face. Using black
lacquer for her 
finger and toe nails added a bit of a wild twist to her trashy
appearance. 
Darcey had put a great deal of thought into the care and feeding of her
slave daughter. 
After a lot of research into what foods would keep Rebecca in top
condition she came up 
with a mixture of grains, fruits, vegetables and legumes that was very
inexpensive to make 
and would provide all the vitamins, minerals and proteins she would need
for optimal 
health.  She had used the largest stock pot she had to mix up and cook
enough of the gruel 
to last for 2 weeks and then bagged it into 14 freezer bags, one per
day. This would be the 
only real food she would feed Becky from now on but she would be sure to
add some 
special flavoring to it when served.  She would serve it cold, but fully
defrosted, twice a day.  
The first bag was waiting in the fridge ready to be doled out.
Darcey spooned out roughly half the contents of the bag into a new steel
doggie bowl and 
with spoon, bowl and a pair of scissors in hand she unlocked the door to
the basement and 
turned on the light. 
"Good morning Becky!" she exclaimed in a cheerful tone. "This is going
to be a big day for 
you and me so I hope you got a good nights sleep." 
At first Rebecca was blinded by the sudden harsh light and could barely
make out the 
brazen figure clip clopping down the wooden stair case. A mix of relief
and dread flooded 
her mind as she had both hope that this ordeal might be coming to an end
and fear of what 
her mother might have planned for her. Surely it had to be better then
the agony she was in 
right now. 
When she got a better look at her mother her feelings of fear were
increased. Why would 
any normal person make herself look the way she had to see her daughter?
It was all so 
incredibly sick.
"Please let me go mamma," she whispered. Her voice was gone from all the
begging and 
screaming she had done throughout the night. 
"I'm sorry  honey, I can't do that and I will never do that,  you see
things have already gone 
beyond the point of no return," was the response. Your going to have to
learn that your life 
permanently changed last night and you're my sex slave know."
"You must be starving so I brought you breakfast."
"Nooooooo, please don't say that." Rebecca begged with as much feeling
as she could 
express.
"I won't do anything, I won't tell anyone. It will be our secret.
Please, please o God please 
let me go."
Mrs. Jones went on as if she hadn't heard a word that was said.
"I bet it awfully uncomfortable having your hair tied to the cage that
way.  Let me fix it."
Mrs. Jones then reached through the bars of the cage with scissors in
hand and began to 
cut away all the tied up hair just above scalp level. She continued to
ignore Becky's sobs. 
After cutting through the last strands her daughters head dropped and
she cried out in pain 
from the sudden release. Becky jerked on her wrist cuffs to try and
bring up her hands to 
support her head but that just brought more pain and a few trickles of
blood from the raw 
skin. 
"There, that must feel better."
"Now lift up your head and see what I brought you for breakfast. It's my
own concoction with 
everything you need to stay in peak health. It has oats and barley and
corn, a lot of soy 
powder, Carrots, onions 5 kinds of beans, sauerkraut, dried eggs, all
the minerals and 
vitamins you'll ever need. I hope you like it because it's all you'll
ever get. I have to buy in 
bulk to get the best prices for the ingredients. Don't worry though. As
boring as it may seem 
I'll be adding an extra ingredient or two  before I serve it to you.
Here Rebecca, see how it 
tastes in pure form. "
Mrs. Jones then dipped the spoon she had brought with the dog bowl into
the gruel and 
brought a mouthful to Rebecca's lips. 
"Open your mouth Beck or you'll pay for it."
Grudgingly Rebecca opened her mouth and took in the food on the spoon.
It t didn't taste 
as bad as she thought it would. The tastes were mild and if anything it
was very bland. She 
could stand this she thought. 
She lifted her head up again to see what her mother was doing.
Mom was squatting over the dog bowl. 
Rebecca closed her eyes and turned her head away when she saw her mother
release a 
torrent of her piss filling every crack in the mound of food and
surrounding it with a golden 
moat. 
"I think you may have noticed I was upstairs a long time and the toilet
never flushed. This 
really is a delightful sensation almost orgasmic. You don't know how I
bad I had to go. " 
Mrs. Jones sighed as if in ecstasy. 
"Wait till you see what I have for you for dinner." She said this as
though it were an inside 
joke.
Mrs. Jones was right, Rebecca didn't get the joke at all.
Mrs. Jones  began stirring up the mess into a cool soup, her warm pee
having taken the 
chill out of the gruel. 
"You probably don't remember how I used to feed you as a child, how we
would pretend the 
spoon was am airplane and your mouth was the hanger door. Open wide." 
Mrs. Jones seemed to genuinely enjoy playing this scene from the past,
her voice soft and 
encouraging but Rebecca wanted no part of it keeping her mouth clamped
shut.
"Becky, I know this isn't that easy for you yet but you have to try. I
will not throw away good 
food and you will eat this sooner or later just like you will eat
anything else I tell you to. In 
fact you will do anything at all I tell you to do. That's one of your
biggest benefits Beck. You 
don't have to ever decide again about what you  are going to do and what
you won't. From 
now on you simply follow instructions. The only thing you do without
being told is breath. 
Everything else you wait to be instructed to do. That includes
discharging your bodily 
wastes. I have a special interest in that process. Too bad about you
pissing last night. That 
will be punished shortly. "
Mrs. Jones pushed the spoon of pissy gruel against Rebecca's lips.
Rebecca wouldn't open 
her mouth.
"This will be the only time I will ever give you another warming before
actually punishing 
you, but maybe it's only fair I let you know what will happen if you
don't hurry up and eat 
every last bit of scrap that's in this bowl. "
"First I'll move the bowl aside like this and leave it there until your
next feeding. For that 
period of time whatever is in the bowl will begin to fester. At your
next feeding time you will 
again be offered the same bowl. If you finish it the evening meal is
prepared and you have 
to finish that as well. Two meals in one sitting. Now if you don't show
me enough eagerness 
in opening your mouth then I will spend the remaining time that I would
have spent feeding 
you I will open up your cage and spend that time flogging you.  I don't
think it will ever take 
more then one flogging for you to remember your place. If you still
don't come around after 
you get your second flogging then the next day a feeding tube will be
inserted going directly 
to your stomach. You will be force fed all of the food you should have
eaten while being 
tortured. "
Mrs. Jones continued know to jostle the spoon against her daughters
lips.
"Let me be very clear about this girl. Not only are you expected to do
what you're told I also 
expect you to show enthusiasm. I can punish you for lack of enthusiasm
as much as for 
disobedience. It's wise to learn how to fake it."
"I've warned you!"
Rebecca couldn't get her mouth to open until she saw her mother begin to
push aside the 
dog bowl. At that point reality set in and Rebecca popped open her
mouth.
"I'm sorry dear. You had your chance. We will see if you have a better
appetite tonight 
when you will have 2 bowls to finish. I'll be back as soon as I fetch
something to beat you 
with."
Rebecca let her head drop till her forehead touched the metal floor pan.
She was already 
thinking of how much easier it would have been just to eat her
breakfast. Her stomach 
began to turn again. Rebecca began to heave but she was empty so nothing
came up. Too  
soon she heard the clipity clop of her mothers shoes coming down the
stairs. She was 
carrying a piece of rope and a length of electrical cord with her.

PAINFUL LEARNING (Chapter 4)
  
Mrs. Jones squatted on her heels as she entered the combination into the
large lock that 
secured the cage. This was what the cage was designed for, to open up as
wide as 
possible without risking anything from the slave inside. She soon had
the latch unfastened 
and the sides and top of the cage folded back. She heard the retching
sounds coming from 
Becky and felt somewhat sorry for her. She told herself that if she was
to be a good 
Mistress she had better learn to ignore that feeling.
Mrs. Jones picked up the short length of cord and tied one end of it
around Becky's neck 
and the other around the top bar of the front cage panel.  Here head now
overhung the top 
bar and protruded beyond the front panel. Her shoulders would now have
to be at least 2 
feet above the ground.
"This is to make sure you cant slump all the way down to the ground and
stop me from 
wrapping this whip around you and sticking your belly. I want you as
vulnerable as possible 
when your whipped."
"I want  you to learn as much from the whipping as you can. Remember
that you don't 
make decisions any more but just do as your told."
"Please don't do this mom, pleeeeeeeeeeeeessss." 
Mrs. Jones rose from her squat doubled over electrical cord in hand. 
"Remember Rebecca, don't waste the experience. Learn from this to just
do as your told. 
There's no need to think about anything anymore except to do as your
told.."
Mrs. Jones had practiced cracking the rubber electric cord across a
pillow that she had 
visualized as Rebecca's back. She got very confident that she could
control it quite well. 
She would lay down a row of stripes from shoulders to the back of her
knees and then start 
curling the whip around her sides to strike her tender underbelly.
She held the 6' length of electrical cord folded in half with the ends
in her hand. Mrs. Jones 
didn't want to cut her up as she knew she would if struck with the ends
of the cord. 
"One thing you might think about while I whip you is how you will
apologize to me after I've 
finished. I think apologies are a very important part of any punishment
and if I am not 
impressed with your apology I'll just repeat the punishment over from
the beginning."
With her head bound over the top of the front cage panel Rebecca
couldn't see what her 
mother was doing but she clearly heard the whistle and then the crack of
the rubber cord as 
it smacked into the back of her left shoulder. It was hard enough to
crack the skin where the 
end struck. Like a photograph developing in a darkroom the shape of the
electrical cord 
slowly appeared on her back  first just light pink and then growing
progressively darker as 
the skin swelled up to form a raised welt. The crescent shaped area at
the end darkened all 
the way to purple with a few drops of blood oozing through to the
surface. All this occurred 
while Mrs. Jones brought down her whip at a steady pace each time
bringing her arm all the 
way back behind her shoulder and putting all she could into each stroke.
Rebecca went hysterical, finding new energy where non had existed
before. Furiously she 
pulled at her restraints trying to break free, trying to do anything she
could to get out of the 
way of the whistling electrical cord. She no longer even perceived pain
from her raw wrists 
and knees as she pulled against the bonds with all of her strength. Her
back was aflame 
with pain and the fire just continued to move all the way steadily down
the right side of her 
back. When it reached her ass it seemed to pause, not with regard to the
time between 
strokes but that now the same spots were struck repeatedly. Rebecca
believed all the skin 
there was being systematically removed.
Mrs. Jones was quite certain that her daughters perceived pain was being
perceived by her 
as much worse then the damage actually being caused. Rebecca was not
being torn apart 
with only some of the strokes breaking her skin except for the ones
landing on her well 
padded fanny where there were many spots that they overlapped. Here
there were a lot of 
bloody trails
After 50 or so strokes on her right buttock the whipping progressed down
the right thigh.  
Here Mrs. Jones didn't merely work her way down the back of the right
thigh but came a bit 
closer so that the cord would wrap around the thigh striking the outside
front and finally 
curling all the way around and hitting the soft inside part of the
thigh. No matter how hard 
Becky struggled it did her no good at all.  She began to believe that it
was now just a matter 
of time before she died.
"There. not a bad start. How are you doing dear, I hope you've been
thinking about your 
apology for being willfully disobedient to me."
The words made Becky's heart sink further as in her agony she had
completely forgotten 
about the apology. Her mother hadn't been joking and was actually
expecting am apology. 
How could she possibly do something so humiliating and apologize for not
eagerly opening 
up to eat her piss gruel. 
Mrs. Jones stepped back in front of the cage her body now glistening
with sweat, drops of 
piss still clinging to the dense hair of her cunt.  She squatted on her
heels so she could look 
Becky in the eye.
"Since this is just the first day of your new life I'm going to tell you
something else that you 
might still not understand. When I say something to you, you better know
that I mean it. I 
have not and I will not joke with you or tell you things I don't really
mean. You are no longer 
required to make those sorts of decisions like is she serious or isn't
she. As far as you're 
concerned I'm always serious and if I say something will happen you know
that it will. Now 
while I take a short break I'll let you give me a practice apology. Spit
one out."
Rebecca was tongue tied, she started to shake from the fear of having to
speak to her 
mother knowing she was completely unprepared. Afraid of incurring more
punishment for 
not speaking Rebecca started to blurt out an apology.
"I - I - I'm s-s-so s-s-s-sor-r-ry mother. I'll eat anything you tell me
too from now on l 
promise.   I apologize it won't happen again I-I promise." Becky pleaded
in the most 
desperate voice that she could muster but couldn't think of anything
more to say. 
"Are you finished apologizing?"
"Yes , I'm sorry I can't think of what else to say. Oh please don't
punish me again, please."
"Punish you again? I have barely started with your first punishment. You
have a lot more 
time to think about the apology. You've probably noticed that I haven't
touched your left side 
yet, and I didn't make sure you couldn't hide your underbelly for
nothing sweetheart. There 
is still a lot of time. I'll give you another chance to apologize during
the next break in your 
whipping."
Mrs. Jones then got up and walked over to Rebecca's right side from
which she began to 
methodically whip the left side of her back.
Drops of blood now fell every few seconds from both of Rebecca's wrists.
She didn't notice 
this small pain at all as her back was again set ablaze and she just had
to escape.
Although Mrs. Jones enjoyed whipping Rebecca immensely, especially
watching the 
change that was happening, before her eyes, to her back, she did hope
that Becky would 
come up with some sort of acceptable apology and spare herself a repeat
of the whipping 
while showing her mother/owner that she was trainable. Mrs. Jones was
sure that 
eventually she could inflict enough pain on her daughter that she would
do anything to stop 
it but if her breaking point was very high she was afraid there might
not be much left to play 
with.
This time between laying down fresh stripes Mrs. Jones talked to her
daughter.
"An acceptable apology  has a minimum of 4 parts. Part one is self
deprecation." 
CRACK!!
"I expect to hear how low and unworthy of anything from me you are."
CRACK!!
"The second part is the expression of  genuine regret for what you've
done."
CRACK!!
"Next you express aggrandizement for your master and how high above you
your master 
is."
CRACK!!
 "And last, but by no means least, you express gratitude for your
punishment"
CRACK!!
"That spells DRAG: deprecation, regret, aggrandizement, gratitude.!!!" 
Mrs. Jones began to raise her voice as if to show her irritation at
having to punish Rebecca. 
She started to show anger and soon began to feel real anger, as the show
changed from 
merely an act to the real thing.
CRACK!!!
"Have you been listening slave? Have you heard anything I've said?!
CRACK!!!!
"Tell me you little shit, tell me what the 'G' in DRAG stands for!!"
CRACK!!!!
Rebecca just screamed. It wasn't much of a scream her throat as hoarse
as it was. Yes she 
did hear her mother talking but her mind had been so fixated on her
whipping that she had 
understood nothing. She had no reason to expect her mother to talk to
her while whipping 
her.  She only now realized that Mrs. Jones had been speaking to her. 
"Im sorry I didn't hear you." Rebecca pleaded with her mother. 
CRACK!!!!
"You didn't hear me or you weren't paying attention? Which one is it?
Was I whispering? Is 
that it? Or was  your mind elsewhere?!!"
"Please, please mother don't hurt me any more, please." 
"Don't be silly Becky. Punishment is supposed to hurt and be as
unpleasant as possible. 
That's the reason it works. If you know that you are going to get at
least a sever whipping if 
you do anything wrong you are unlikely to do it. If the punishment isn't
severe enough to to 
change you then it's been a waste of time"
"I am now the most important thing in your life. It's up to me if you
live or if you die. It's up to 
me how you live, what you do, where you sleep, CRACK!!!!!  .when you
sleep, or even if 
you sleep. You drink what I give you to drink and you eat what I give
you to eat."
CRACK!!!!!
The stroke of the whip was getting progressively harder as Mrs. Jones
level of excitement 
went up. There was now a sharp retort with every stroke. 
"This is the last time I go though this so pay attention.
Again the necessities of a proper apology, according to the DRAG
principle, were explained 
to Rebecca in between stokes of the electrical cord only this time, in
total terror of having to 
go through the whipping again the young slave girl listened as well as
she could. After 
finishing the striping of her left thigh Mrs. Jones again paused. 
"Let's review. What does the 'G' in drag stand for?"
Becky, still in tears managed to stutter out, "g-g-gratitude,
g-g-gratitude for having my 
master correct my behavior."
"Very good Becky. There is some hope for you yet. Now what about the
'D'?"
"D-d-deprecation. I must say how unworthy I am." 
Rebecca burst out into renewed bawling as this further indignity began
to sink in.
Mr. Jones came back in front of Rebecca, squatted down and began to
stoke what was left 
of her filthy hair. 
"Hush Becky, hush. Your punishment will be over soon enough and one day
you will look 
back on this as a relatively minor event in your new life.  After it's
over we'll get you cleaned 
up and out of the cage for a little while.  Now just try to rest for a
minute before we go on."
Mrs. Jones actually did take a minute to rest. After a couple hundred
hard strokes her arm 
was tiring. Becky didn't yet realize that the break wasn't working to
her advantage and knelt 
in position hoping it would go on longer. She started composing an
apology in her head. 
She knew she'd have to do it but found it so horribly humiliating. How
could she apologize 
for something that was not at all wrong, and to do it to her monster
mother. If she could 
have she would have probably chosen death as a more palatable
alternative but 
unfortunately it wasn't a choice she had. As soon as she got a few words
put together her 
bind would draw a blank as if finding it impossible to go on. "I'm sorry
for disobeying you 
mother. I am not worthy to be trampled by your feet.", then there would
be no more and 
she'd start the apology over again in her mind. 
Whhhhhhhhump!!, was followed by a scream and convulsion as Becky
literally jumped into 
the air as far as her restraints allowed. The first stroke to her front
side, which was now her 
underside, had curled right around her left side and come across to
strike the right side if 
her right breast. Composing her apology would have to wait With her head
lowered Becky 
could see clearly the line of the doubled over cord and the dark welt
that immediately began 
to rise.
Mrs. Jones had planed a strategy that would allow her to whip Rebecca's
front with fewer 
stokes but elicit as great an effect by speeding up the strokes so they
would fall quickly one 
right after the other leaving her no opportunity to prepare for the
next. She would give her a 
minute of pure hell but leave her in a condition that would allow Becky
to be whipped again 
if her apology didn't come, or was very bad. 
She made sure she covered her entire belly and breasts with angry lines
lacing into her like 
a demon possessed. 
Whhhhhhhhump!!, Whhhhhhhhump!!, Whhhhhhhhump!!.
The blows rained up at the frantic slave girls underbelly till she
almost lost her mind, then 
suddenly they stopped.
Becky's once clear, smooth skin was history. There was barely a spot on
her body an inch 
away from a bruise or a welt. She was soaked in sweat, the salty water
running down her 
skin and adding their own sting to that of her wounds.
Mrs.  Jones walked back to the front of the cage and to the wall eight
feet ahead of it. She 
hung the electrical cord up on a nail in the wall right in Becky's view.
Mrs. Jones believed it 
would be easier to maintain proper order if her young slave was
constantly reminded to 
about what happens to slaves that make mistakes. The dungeon would take
e shape 
gradually with new objects entering it at irregular intervals. Mrs.
Jones was very curious 
about how it would look in a few years. She would add to the dungeon
gradually waiting till 
she had spent many hours thinking things through as to what would be
most effective in 
training and disciplining Becky.  There were a few things that Mrs.
Jones thought essential 
and she would bring those in today. The objects had been purchased a
while ago but she 
thought it would be more fun installing them while her slave watched. 
Once again Mrs. Jones returned to squat in front of her daughters
restrained head. Again 
she petted the filthy strands of hair on her daughters head.
Occasionally she brushed away 
Rebecca's tears. 
"Do you know what you're going to say when you apologize yet dear? It's
almost time you 
know. Oh. and just one little thing that I will not remind you of again,
you had better have 
an apology ready after every single punishment."
Rebecca had barely settled down enough to comprehend what she was being
told. 
Frantically she started putting together another apology in her mind. In
the background she 
could hear voices saying, 'just give me a little more time, just give me
a little more time.'
"Now for the last nasty little bit you are going to help me out Beck.
I'm going to release your 
wrists from the cuffs. When I do you are going to reach back and using a
hand on each ass 
cheek you are going to spread them as far apart as you can so I can whip
your girl parts 
and nasty bits unobstructed."
Mrs. Jones released Rebecca's wrists from the restraints easing the sand
papered straps 
from the raw skin on her wrists. Though a painfully brutal way of
toughening Rebecca's skin 
it was the mistress's choice. Eventually Mrs. Jones thought that she had
better be able to 
hang from her wrists for hours at a time. The image of a girl hanging in
mid air,  tortured, 
with no hope of escape, was a powerfully erotic one to her. This was
what was in her mind 
when she lined the cuffs with sticky backed sandpaper. Shortly those
wrists and ankles 
would be soaking in alcohol and the skin would get tough. In the
meantime there was 
another use that Mrs. Jones wanted to put her daughters hands to. 
Mrs. Jones took each of Rebecca's hands and placed them on her ass
cheeks so that her 
fingertips lay just slightly inside her crack then adjusted them so they
would spread her ass 
cheeks revealing her most tender parts to maximum advantage. Clearly,
however she did 
not lick what she saw. Even at age 15 Rebecca had far too much pubic
hair for a slave and 
Mrs. Jones decided it would be best to remedy the matter before the
final strokes of 
Becky's whipping. 
"Before I go any further I think I have to clean you up a bit. I just
didn't realize how closely 
you take after your mother and have so much hair down there. In your
case though it will 
have to come off, we don't want it getting in the way of the whip and
cushioning the blows 
and besides it could be dangerous because I can't see the extent of the
damage. Keep 
yourself spread for me while I clean that mess up."
Mrs. Jones picked up the scissors she had used to cut off a chunk of
rebecca's hair and 
used them on her bush to trim away as much as she could but before
finishing with them 
she also returned to the hair left on her head and snipped almost all of
it away. Becky had 
always been very proud of her beautiful locks but now they were gone,
just a pile of shorn 
locks on the basement floor. 
"Where your head is going to be for much of the time, long hair is not a
good think. It would 
be too much trouble keeping it clean. Just think, I won't be able to tie
it like I did last night 
again." Mrs. Jones almost chuckled as she said that because she had much
better means 
of fastening her head in any fashion she wished. She was also sure that
Rebecca couldn't 
imagine some of the things she would soon be doing. If she only knew.
Her mother had 
plans and ideas.
Mrs. Jones left the basement for a minute and walk out to the garden
shed in less then her 
birthday suite. She wanted the lawn hose and an old disposable razor
that she had found 
lying on one of the shelves. She picked up the shortest length of hose
and the razor and 
headed back to the house. She got the wooden scrub brush from the
laundry room and 
went down the cellar steps, locking the door behind her.  
Rebecca had spent the time in both prayer and preparation for her
apology. In the end she 
asked God to help her make up her apology and then felt that he had. 
The prayer calmed 
her a little and after all that she has already taken, how bad could
this last part be. She was 
so tired now, the whipping had taken every last once of energy and fight
from her. She 
needed to rest, to sleep. She needed to get free of her restraints and
lie down. The sound 
of her mothers distinctive footsteps coming back cleared her fogy mind.
She watched her 
mother screw one end of the lawn hose into a single, cold water faucet
and a sprayer on 
the other.  She watched her demented mother turn on the faucet and am
the sprayer into 
the drain a couple of feet from the cage. The sprayer sputtered several
times as the air 
trapped in the hose escaped out the end. In a moment a heavy stream of
cold water beat 
across her back, head, sides and especially her ass. Rebecca felt the
course bristles of the 
wooden brush scrub the skin between her legs as she held her vulva
spread wide for it. The 
brush hurt a bit but not nearly as much as she had feared.
Mrs. Jones had scrubbed down every inch of her slaves body before
putting away the brush 
on the floor under the faucet. Giving Rebecca's crack one last spray of
water Mrs. Jones 
began to scrape away every last bit of her daughters pubic hair. When
finished her cunt 
was an incredible sight; bald as the day she was born but plump, red and
inviting from the 
treatment it had just received. 
For Rebecca the loss of her hair from 2 such prominent places made her
feel a nakedness 
more profound then any she had ever felt before. Hard to believe as it
was, this was a 
whole new level of nakedness. 
Mrs. Jones inspected Rebecca again after finishing her shave and liked
what she saw 
much better. Rebecca was again a little girl still bald where it really
counted. She could see 
the smallest detail now every nook and cranny of her crotch. 
"Excellent. Excuse my while I go get the whip I have especially for your
cunt." 
Rebecca had never known such fear. On hearing the familiar footsteps
descending the 
stairs again she began to shake from fear of what was coming. She saw
her mother 
carrying a whip with a very long and slender handle and two tails
emerging from the handle 
both od tightly braided leather and a series of 4 knots on each of the
tails arranged so the 
knots on one tail didn't interfere with those on the other. Each stroke
would find eight knots 
speeding to make contact with Rebecca's crotch. 
"Look at the craftsmanship. One day you'll appreciate a fine whip like
this one. It's skinned 
many cunts before yours, brought many tears and it's still in fine
condition. Spread your 
cheeks like I showed you. Your going to have one amazing looking cunt
very soon. I will 
allow you to let go of your ass cheeks after each stoke, I know you
won't be able to help 
that yet, but they better be spread again in 15 seconds or the stroke
won't count. Have a 
whiff of this."
Mrs. Jones removed the cap at the top end of the handle and waved the
hole under 
Rebecca's nose. She jerked her head back. 
"Isn't that the most wonderful idea?, smelling salts where they are most
convenient. You're 
not going to pass out on me."
This time Mrs. Jones stood up and took a step back from the front of the
cage. Rebecca 
could clearly see her mother's arm lift the whip back over her right
shoulder and then bring 
it down hard, right over her anus. Immediately the turd lurking in her
ass shot out off 
Rebecca's ass hole hitting the metal floor of her cage with thud and
sending up a shower of 
piss from a puddle that had collected there.  Rebecca had lost her last
shred of dignity and 
didn't care. The pain was just too great.
"Looks like that one doesn't count. Spread your fuking ass cheeks like
you were told or 
you'll get an extra 3 you pig. I'll deal with your shit later"
Rebecca was now almost catatonic. She had stopped crying. Slowly she
reached back and 
complied with her mother's directions. What else could she do? She
watched as her mother 
brought the whip behind her shoulder again but closed her eyes as soon
as it began it's 
high speed journey to her burning crotch. This whip whistled at a much
higher pitch on it's 
flight through the air and before her mother cracked it, this time
sending the knotted tips 
crashing into her cunt at super sonic speed. Blood leaked from a half
dozen spots that had 
been struck by the knots. Instinctively Becky pushed her ass cheeks
together while writhing 
in pain as much as her restraints allowed but this time she composed
herself enough to 
comply with her orders. 
The whip whistled a third time striking Becky square on her cunt with
the very leading tips 
reached her exposed clit. This time she passed out and Mrs. Jones had to
use the smelling 
salts to revive her. 
"You didn't spread for me so that last one doesn't count either. If you
can take 2 more and 
do as your told that will be it otherwise we'll just keep going, now
SPREAD!!! 
At least with a goal to strive for Becky found the strength to expose
herself to the whip and 
stay conscious. After the second blow which left the length of her
crotch covered in blood 
Mrs. Jones let Becky squirm to her hearts content. She would give her a
few minutes before 
asking for her apology.

-- 
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