Puppet on a Rope
by Jennifer Harrison
Part 7 - Holiday
I walked into the airport terminal rather nervously. I hadn't seen Bethany since the end of term, and we had only exchanged a couple of texts since then, so I was worried what her reaction would be. I certainly felt very guilty about what had happened, and was sure that she was going to be terribly pissed with me for getting her into this situation.
So, when I saw her just completing baggage check-in, I gave her a weak smile and waited for her to make the first move. I was astonished when she ran over and clasped me in a huge bear-hug, and several other passengers close by looked rather surprised when she planted a kiss full on my lips.
"Hi, honey, how have you been?" she asked, still holding me.
"I-I've been good," I replied, rather overwhelmed by her welcome, "aren’t you still annoyed with me?"
"Don't be such a silly!" she exclaimed, linking arms with me, "let's get you checked in, and make sure we get seats together!" As we queued up, she told me all about her early summer, gossiping away on inconsequential stuff as if we had nothing important to talk about. Once we had checked in, we went to a Burger King outlet and got a coffee.
"How are your…?" she whispered, leaning forward and pointing at my breasts.
"They’re fine," I replied quietly, "actually, they're better than fine. It seems like my nips are permanently erect! Whenever I don't wear a bra, every slight movement stimulates them. They’re so sensitive, it feels incredible!"
"I know!" she giggled, "I had a real problem with them at first, it really hurt getting them done - I thought it was going to be just like getting my ears pierced, but it was fucking awful! Then, they were terribly sore over the next couple of weeks - I even got an infection! But then, over the last few weeks, they finally healed up, and ever since, I've felt horny as hell!"
"Oh, thank God!" I said, heaving a huge sigh of relief, "I felt so bad about getting you involved in all that."
"Don't blame yourself, honey," Bethany smiled, putting her hand on mine, "it's not your fault and, anyway, maybe it'll be fun - it's certainly been fun so far! And with the two of us, maybe we can help each other through any bad times, can't we?" I smiled and nodded, and we exchanged another hug.
Our flight was pretty uneventful, and by the time we touched down, we were as excited as any other teenage girls arriving in southern Spain for sun, sea and sex. As we made our way into the main terminal, my clothing - or lack of it - finally felt like it was not that far from what everyone else was wearing, although I suspected that most girls and women in the airport were at least wearing knickers!
"Now, your Master - I mean our Master - said he would send someone to meet us," Bethany said, "so keep your eyes open for someone holding up a card with our names on it."
It turned out that the card had ‘PUPPETS’ written on it, which I found rather humiliating, but Beth thought was a bit of a laugh. Both of us thought that the tanned young man with the ripped jeans, open shirt showing a muscled, hairy chest and a fashionable five o'clock shadow despite it being 11 AM, was rather gorgeous. As we walked up to him, he smiled and lazily ran his eyes over both of our bodies, making no effort to hide the fact that he was checking us out.
"Hello, ladies," he said in a thick but understandable Spanish accent, "I am Angelo, so good to meet you. Follow me." He turned and began to walk towards the exit, not waiting for us to introduce ourselves, or to help with our suitcases.
He led us to an open-topped Jeep and, once we had loaded our bags and climbed in the back, drove off at a terrifying pace out of the airport and off into the countryside. We drove inland towards the mountains, and the road began to climb more and more steeply, with lots of twisty turns, which threw us from side to side so violently that we were hanging on for dear life and squealing like we were on a fairground ride. This only seemed to encourage him, as he put his foot down with a broad grin on his face.
We had gone about ten miles, and the road had changed from a well-tarmaced dual carriageway to a dusty single lane mountain road. We passed through a few villages and a small town, but the houses dotted by the side of the road had given way to trees and vines. I looked back as we screeched around one corner and saw just how far we had come and how high we had ascended, but just then the car veered off the road onto a bumpy track through the trees, and I could see nothing, concentrating instead on stopping myself being thrown from the vehicle.
We finally slowed to a halt outside an impressive villa, coughing and choking on the dust which Angelo’s madcap driving had thrown up. Bethany and I tumbled out of the Jeep and went to the rear of the vehicle to retrieve our luggage.
“Don’t bother with that,” Angelo said gruffly, “I’ll deal with it later. Come!” We followed him up to the villa and he led us inside. It was all marble floors, white walls and tasteful art, but we didn’t have time to check it out as he walked through to the back and out onto the veranda. Here was a large patio, with sun loungers and table and chairs, leading to an Olympic-sized swimming pool, which looked so inviting! I was ready to put on my bikini and dive in, as I was already hot and sticky, but I had to resist the temptation.
"They're here, Senor,” Angelo said, and a figure appeared from one of the loungers. It was Master, wearing only a small Speedo, his muscular body tanned and lean.
"Thank you, Angelo," he said with a smile as he approached us, "welcome, girls, so glad you could make it. I've been dying to see your new jewellery, why don't you show us?" I glanced over at Angelo, wondering if we should wait until he had gone, but he made no move to leave, and I knew how much Master hated to be kept waiting. I pulled my top off, keeping my eyes on the floor, and saw Bethany do the same.
"You might as well take all your clothes off now," Master said, "you have nothing to hide from Angelo." Feeling my cheeks redden, I slipped my skirt down, removing it as I stepped out of my shoes. It hadn't taken long for us to get naked!
Master stepped forward and toyed with my nipple rings, gently twisting and pulling on them slightly, examining the effect on my breasts as well as on my face. He repeated the exercise on Bethany before gesturing for the driver to check them out for himself. To my complete embarrassment, he not only played with my breasts, but stuck a finger between my legs, sniffing the resultant moisture and giving a sly smile. My face was burning by now, and I was immensely relieved when he moved on to my friend. She got a similar ‘goosing’, and then he stepped away.
"I've always fancied having a couple of slaves to wait on me hand and foot while I’m here," Master went on, "and now, here you are! However, I can't be bothered with all the business of training you and disciplining you, I'm supposed to be on holiday! So, I have passed those duties on to someone else. On your knees, girls, and welcome your new Mistress!"
Bethany and I exchanged confused and worried looks, then got down on our knees, wondering what was going to happen. I think we were both shocked, but not greatly surprised, when Miss Maria walked around the corner and stood in front of us. She looked amazing, her tall, willowy figure clad in a pure white single-piece swimming costume made out of, I realised, latex. Half her face was covered by a pair of designer sunglasses, and she wore a gauzy wrap around her waist which protected her legs from the sun. Her long legs were accentuated and elongated by the strappy high heels she wore, exposing her perfectly manicured toes. In one hand, she carried a small parasol to shield the delicate skin of her shoulders and face, and in the other, somewhat predictably, was a riding crop. Even dressed for the beach or the pool, she looked every inch the dominatrix.
"Good afternoon, sluts," she said with her usual tone of contempt, "it's good to see you again, now in your proper positions - kneeling, heads bowed." She was carrying two dog leashes, which I assumed, correctly, were for us. She threaded the lead through the ring on my left nipple and then clipped it to the ring on my right nipple. Once she had done the same to Bethany, she flicked them and pulled upwards, forcing us to our feet.
"If you don't mind, Sir," she said to our Master, "I'll take these two away to get on with some work." Master smiled and nodded his assent, before turning away and returning to his sun lounger. Meanwhile, we were forced to jog along behind Miss Maria, whose stride was astonishingly long, as she led us away from the villa towards a small, ramshackle barn, barely more than a shed.
She spoke to Angelo, who had followed us from the terrace, addressing him in perfect, fluent Spanish. It sounded like she was giving him some instructions, and he went into the barn while we waited outside. When he came back, he was weighed down with shiny metal chains and manacles.
"These are your slave chains," Marie said as Angelo locked the cuffs around our wrists and ankles. “You need to come to terms with your status here quickly. This is not a game we are playing. You are nothing but slave labour and objects to be used for sex or general entertainment. You are property now – if you don’t satisfy your Master, he may choose to sell you.”
“Sell us, Miss Maria?” Bethany asked, the shock obvious in her voice. But then the crop flashed out and she screamed, clutching her breasts where the blow had landed.
“I am your Mistress now, and you will address me as such,” Maria hissed, her face like thunder, “show respect, you worthless cunt!” I stared at her, shocked by the violence of her language and the obvious contempt she held for my friend and, I’m sure, for me as well.
"And yes, your Master may sell you if I tell him what a stupid, useless piece of shit you are," she spat, inches from Bethany's face as the terrified girl cowering back to try and escape her ire, "I'm sure if we took you down to the nightclubs in Benidorm, we could find some drunken Brits or German perverts to take you off our hands!"
She turned away and barked a command at Angelo, who dashed into the barn and returned carrying two heavy steel rings, each hinged open, and I recognised them as collars. He took off my leather dog collar which, bizarrely, I had become accustomed to wearing, and placed one of the collars around my neck. He fastened it with a large brass padlock, and the weight of the thing made me have to strain my neck to keep my head up and my back straight. This was real macho bondage - I was going to know I was wearing it every moment of the day!
I heard Bethany let out a pained yelp, and turned to see that Mistress had grabbed her hair and was pulling her head back quite viciously.
"This has got to go," she said, and I heard the unmistakable sound of electric clippers starting up. As Bethany whimpered, her beautiful blonde hair was soon falling on the floor around her. A few minutes later, she was completely shaven, and I could see the tears glistening on her face.
"You need a trim too," Mistress said, and it was only a few minutes before my hair, which had grown to a length where it could just about support a style, was blowing away in the warm breeze. The trauma wasn't as bad this time - I suppose I just expected it.
Mistress removed the dog leads clipped to our nipple rings and replace them with silver chains which joined the two rings loosely together. The chain wasn't too heavy, but I could feel it pulling on the rings all the time. She tossed a bottle to each of us.
"Make sure you cover every part of you," she said, and I looked down to see that she had given us factor 50 sunscreen, "help each other. And make sure you keep your fluids topped up - I don't want you going down with sunburn or heatstroke, that would be… inconvenient." Yes, I thought as I rubbed the cream on my body, wouldn't it be terrible if we had to lie down and recover, rather than work like - well, like slaves, I suppose.
Mistress gave Angelo a new order and then walked away, clearly finished with us. Angelo pulled my arms behind my back and clipped the manacles on my wrists together. The chain between them was just long enough so that, with my arms locked behind me, the chain was pulled tight across my belly. He picked up a length of rope and tied it around my waist, with the knot in the small of my back, then pulled it through between my legs and passed it under itself by my tummy button, giving me a crotch rope. While he did the same to Bethany, I tried to make the rope comfortable, without a lot of success as it was very rough and rather prickly. He then led us out to the front of the villa, using the ropes as a lead, stopping when he reached the jeep and tying the end of each rope to the rear fender.
"Oh shit," I murmured as he climbed into the car and started up the engine, "this could get very painful very quickly!" I glanced over at Bethany, who looked as nervous and frightened as I felt, pulling uselessly at the cuffs on her wrists.
Suddenly, the jeep leapt forward and, before I could react, the rope had pulled tight and I was yanked forwards, squealing as the rope rasped painfully between my pussy lips. Quickly trying to recover, I started to run to catch up, desperate to keep the rope slack and not repeat that horrible experience. Soon I was running at full pelt, with Bethany alongside, both of us staggering along the dusty track, trying to ignore the sharp stones beneath our feet and fighting to stay upright as the jeep motored over the bumps and hollows. Within a few minutes, I was gasping for breath, my lungs bursting, a sharp pain in my chest and, despite my best efforts, the pain between my legs getting worse as the rope repeatedly dragged me for a few metres before I could get my footing again. It was buried deep between my lips, rubbing me raw.
After maybe ten minutes of this torture, the vehicle in front of us came to a halt, and I fell to my knees, wheezing like a fifty-a-day smoker, my body covered in sweat and dust. Bethany didn't look too much better next to me, her mouth gaping and her chest rising and falling as she tried to suck more oxygen out of the hot, fetid air. I heard a noise and looked up, to find that Angelo had stopped, not in consideration for us, but to talk to a man on a tractor going the other way! They seemed to be chatting away happily, occasionally glancing down at the two of us, but certainly not showing any concern for our condition.
When the tractor finally moved on, Angelo came back to us with a couple of bottles of water, which he squirted over our heads and into our mouths, which felt like the sweetest rain you have ever experienced. To my dismay, he then walked back, got into the driving seat and started the engine again. We scrambled to our feet and immediately had to begin running for our lives - or at least for the skin on our pussies!
He didn't go as fast this time, or very far, before we pulled in to a field covered with rows of grapevines. He untied the ropes and released our wrists, before handing each of us a small hand fork. He went over to one of the rows of vines and indicated a small weed with his boot, gabbling away in Spanish by way of explanation. When neither of us moved, for the simple reason that we had no idea what he wanted, he came over and grabbed the ring on the front of my collar and dragged me over, pushing me down on my hands and knees, gesticulating at the weed again. I guessed he wanted me to dig it up, which I did, and he left me alone, pushing Bethany towards another row. More Spanish and gesticulation indicated that he expected us to work our way along the row, digging up all weeds. I looked along the row, estimating it to be a couple of hundred metres long, and then how many rows that were across the field - this was going to be a long, hot afternoon! Angelo clearly didn't appreciate my delay, and he encouraged me to get started by kicking me hard on the arse - which definitely worked!
It was, indeed, a very hard, hot and sweaty afternoon. Angelo doused us with water every quarter of an hour or so, but it didn't help much. Down at ground level, amongst the vines, there was no breeze and, seemingly, no air. After a couple of hours, I was feeling totally out of it, just able to crawl forward until I saw my next target, and then dig it up. At one point, Bethany collapsed, seemingly fainted, flat out on the ground, and had to be resuscitated with plenty of water splashed in the face, and liberal application of the boot. Eventually, she very unsteadily got back on her hands and knees and continued. The sweat was dripping off my nose and I could feel it stinging my eyes, but there was no respite, Angelo was a real slave driver, literally!
When he finally called a halt, my addled brain thought with horror about the trip back to the villa, and I couldn't conceive of making it without falling flat on my face and being dragged along. Thankfully, Angelo must have realised how exhausted we were, and he made us climb into and stand in the back of the jeep, where he locked our wrist manacles to the roll bar and drove us back at his normal, ridiculous speed, throwing us from side to side like rag dolls. I was actually glad that I was bound to the vehicle, because otherwise, I'm sure I would have been thrown out.
When we got back, we got out of the Jeep and followed him back to the barn, where he hosed us down with beautifully icy water from a garden hose. As we dripped dry, I could feel that, despite the sunscreen, I was very crispy across my shoulders, and my breasts felt very warm - they weren't used to being exposed to the sun, and they had clearly burnt a little. When he had finished, Angelo just walked off, leaving us standing there, wondering what we were supposed to do now.
"Are you okay, Beth?" I asked, wondering if she felt as bad as I did.
"Oh God, kill me now!" she groaned, "every part of my body hurts, I'm still dying of thirst and, fuck, I don't think I've ever been this hungry before!"
"Shit, I hadn't even thought of that!" I moaned, and my stomach growled right on cue.
A few minutes later, Mistress - the woman who, less than twenty four hours ago, I had thought of only as Bethany's teacher, and now I couldn't even think, never mind say, her name- appeared, having changed out of her swimsuit and into a cool, white summer dress. The contrast between her and us could not have been more stark.
She had the dog leads with her, and she clipped them to the chain between our breasts, dragging us along behind her as she strode into the villa. The change of light left me blind for quite a few seconds, but the coolness of the interior was a very welcome change. She led us into the kitchen, where we saw a black haired and very tanned woman, possibly in her forties, wearing a floral print dress - she looked very Spanish.
"This is Isabella," Mistress said, "she will feed you, and you will be working for her tonight. Now, down on your knees and show her the respect she deserves." Bethany and I knelt down on the kitchen tiles, both perked up by the mention of food. Meanwhile, Mistress turned on her heel and walked out.
The Spanish woman turned to look at us with a mixture of contempt and annoyance, as if we were causing her unnecessary and unwelcome work. She searched in the cupboard under the sink and pulled out two metal bowls, which she tossed on the work surface. She took a pan off the stove and slopped what looked like some kind of stew into the bowls, then put them down on the floor, turning back to what she had been doing earlier, before we rudely interrupted her.
Bethany and I shuffled over to the bowls, each picking one up and looking at the lukewarm contents suspiciously. It was difficult to tell what was in it, but it's smelled good and, with no utensils being offered, we used our fingers to bolt the food down as if someone was going to steal it from us which, in this crazy place, was always a possibility. After licking my fingers clean, I decided dignity was not worth missing out on some calories for, and I got my nose in there and licked the bowl clean. After a nanosecond’s delay, Bethany followed suit.
When we finished our ‘meal’, we weren't sure what to do, so we just knelt in the corner, out of the way, hoping no one would ask us to do anything else. The tactic seemed to work, as Isabella ignored us and no-one else came in. It was cool, quiet, and restful, to the point where my head was nodding forward as I dozed.
I was woken by the sound of voices in the villa, many voices, male and female, speaking Spanish, what sounded like general conversation with the occasional bout of laughter. They moved through the building and out onto the terrace, although we saw none of this. Bethany and I looked at each other, confused about what was going on, but both worried that it was going to involve us soon.
Isabella began babbling at us in Spanish, but I could see that she was loading up a couple of silver trays, one with glasses which she filled with champagne, and one with hors d'oeuvres. She pointed towards them, shouting at us, and we got to our feet, each picking up a tray. She waved towards the terrace and, reluctantly and rather nervously, we made our way outside.
There were about thirty men and women on the terrace, standing in groups and chatting. They were all in suits or smart dresses, and looked like the great and the good of the local area. Trying to forget the fact that I was naked and in chains, I started to circulate around the groups, offering them the drinks on my tray, while Bethany followed sheepishly behind me with the food.
I had to refill the tray a couple of times, but eventually, I approached the group to whom Master and Mistress were talking. I handed out the drinks and was just about to move on, when Master touched my arm.
"Kelly," he said quietly to me, "this is the mayor and mayoress of the local town. I'd like you to show them how much I respect them by kissing their feet." I looked at him in astonishment, but he had already turned away to talk to someone else. I wondered for a moment if he was serious, but I knew, from previous experience - he was always serious. I knew I had to do it.
I placed the tray on a nearby table and got down on my knees in front of the mayor. I noticed that there was no surprise or shock on the round face of the fat little man, but a look of the expectation, and I wondered if he was used to such treatment here or, indeed, at other residences around his fiefdom. Had Master had slaves here before? Did other people keep girls as slaves? I shook my head and concentrated on what I had to do, placing my lips against the laces of his leather shoe and kissing.
"Do a good job, slut," I heard Mistress’ voice from above me, "lick it to make sure it's clean and to give it a nice shine." I felt another wave of humiliation wash over me, and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I did as I was told.
Luckily, the shoe was merely dusty, and I licked it until I could see my face in it. I moved on to the other shoe, but the mayor lifted his toes, ‘helpfully’ giving me access to the leather sole as well as the upper! Trying to ignore what might be there, I licked the underside, getting grit and sand on my tongue but, thankfully, nothing worse.
Having finished with the mayor, I moved onto his wife, standing next to him. I saw that she had open-toed sandals on, and I hesitated, unsure what to do. Luckily for me (!), Mistress was there with useful advice.
"Suck the toes, slave, and lick between them. Give her a nice tongue massage!" Swallowing any pride or dignity I might have thought I still had, I did as she said, poking my tongue between her fat little digits, relieved to find that she had obviously washed them. She let out little giggles as I worked my way across both feet.
When I had finished, I quickly picked up my tray and scuttled away, my face burning with embarrassment. But it seemed like nobody else noticed or cared, the conversations carried on as if these people expected to be waited on in this humiliating way. As the evening wore on, the champagne was replaced by wine, but Bethany and I were kept busy serving, and we had no chance to talk, we just passed each other occasionally like ships in the night.
The soirée had been going for a couple of hours, and the noise levels were definitely going up as people got more and more drunk, when things took a rather nasty turn. I had felt the occasional hand on my buttocks as I went past, a little surreptitious feel here and there, but nothing serious. But then, I was just serving a rather ugly man, even fatter than the mayor, when he reached out and grabbed my breast, squeezing it painfully.
"Please, Senor! Don't! That hurts!" I complained, trying to keep my voice down so as not to disturb the other guests.
I tried to back away, to pull myself free, but instead he gripped my breast tighter and hooked his finger through the ring on my other breast and pulled me towards him. I let out a howl of pain, but he didn't care, his face split by an evil grin. I looked around desperately, but no-one paid any attention and I couldn't see Master. I felt the man’s hand on the top of my head, forcing me down onto my knees, and then I was facing his crotch as he unzipped his fly.
I looked around again, seeking some kind of recognition that this was unacceptable behaviour in a social situation. I caught Mistress’ eye, which looked rather angry, and she gave me a dismissive gesture which I interpreted as meaning ‘just get on with it’, before turning back to her conversation.
The man took the tray from my hands and put it on the floor, then pulled my head forward until I had no option but to take his small but very eager cock into my mouth. The musky smell from him was overpoweringly rank, but I knew I had to do this, so I set about blowing him hard and fast, to finish it quickly.
I bobbed my head back and forth, using my tongue and lips, sucking him as hard as I dared, and I achieved my aim in double quick time. His cum tasted awful, very salty and horribly lumpy, but I swallowed it all down as I had been trained to do. As he quickly shrank, I pulled back and wiped my lips on the back of my hand. He immediately zipped up his trousers, took a glass of wine from the tray, and turned to the group behind him, joining in the conversation, completely ignoring me. I had never felt so used! With a terrible sense of shame, I picked up the tray and moved away, returning to my waitress duties.
The party went on for another couple of hours and, while the groping became more frequent and more blatant, nothing like my forced blowjob happened again. Eventually, the guests made their way out, and it was just me, Bethany, Master and Mistress.
"I thought that went very well, Maria," Master said, as Bethany and I knelt on the patio in a corner.
"It certainly did, Sir," Mistress smiled, "if you're done with the slaves for tonight, I'll put them away."
"Please do, I'm not in the mood for sex at the moment," Master replied, glancing at us, "but please come back here afterwards, I’d like to talk to you."
"Of course, Sir," Mistress simpered, "I'd like that too." After giving him a surprisingly coy look, she turned and walked over to us, by which time the coquettish look had been replaced by her usual scowl. She grabbed each of us by the chain between our nipples and dragged us off the terrace towards the barn.
Inside, she made us stand under a wooden beam in the middle of the room. I glanced around, but there wasn't much to see - a workbench, some cupboards, a couple of buckets, a pile of straw in one corner. Suddenly, Mistress grabbed my forearm and pulled it up in the air. There were hooks on the beam above us, and she put the D ring on my wrist manacle over one of them. Then, grabbing my other arm, she virtually lifted me off the ground to hook that one as well, leaving me dangling with my toes just about on the floor, as unable to free myself as if she had padlocked me there. Bethany received the same treatment, and we were both now stretched helplessly before our cruel Mistress.
"Now, the punishments you have earned today." Beth and I exchanged glances, both looking as confused and frightened as each other. Punishments? But we had done everything we had to! What was she going to punish us for? It was so unfair! We said nothing.
"You," she said, standing in front of me, "I saw the look on your face when that man wanted you to service him - a look of disgust and contempt. Who the fuck do you think you are?! I'll tell you - you're a slave, a big fat nothing, just there to satisfy your betters! And, in case you were unclear, everyone is your better! Punishment - five lashes."
"Oh, please, Mistress!" I begged. "My back is very tender, please can you let me off this one time?"
"Talking back?" she said with a sadistic grin, "double the punishment! But, in consideration of your ‘tender back’, I'll do them all on your front. Happy now?" I almost said something, but managed to stop myself and keep my big mouth shut.
"And you," Mistress barked, now standing in front of Bethany," you dropped several canapés on the floor, very slovenly work. Punishment - five lashes. Anything to say?"
"Thank you, Mistress," Bethany replied miserably, eliciting a satisfied smile from our tormentor. What a suck-up, I thought, why didn't I think of that?!
Mistress went to the workbench and opened one of the drawers, taking out a flogger and returning to stand in front of me. She waited patiently, cruelly, until I had worked myself into a real state, anticipating what was to come. Then she raised her arm and lashed me, hard, across the breasts.
Although I cried out, I managed to hold back the tears until after the third stroke, but then I lost it as the leather straps hit me directly on my stiff nipples, before moving down across my stomach and lashing me across the hips, on my pussy. Soon, I was blubbing like a baby, tears and snot running down my face, crying, sobbing, screaming. I was still wailing when she had long-since finished and moved on to Bethany.
"It seems rather pathetic that you are only getting five strokes," Mistress mused, "I know - open your legs." Beth stared at her in disbelief and mounting horror as it became obvious what she wanted to do. The poor girl hung there, hoping against hope that Mistress would relent and withdraw the order, but the German was implacable and, slowly, she moved her feet apart.
Her screams were horrible to have to listen to, but I can only guess at the pain she felt as Mistress expertly whipped the flogger upwards, sending the leather fronds up between her legs at speed, slapping loudly against the tormented girl’s pussy and inner thighs. The five strokes took a long time to deliver, as Mistress waited each time until Bethany had once more spread her legs, which had convulsively closed, for the next blow. It was incredibly cruel, and I could see from her face that Mistress enjoyed every second of it!
"Help her down," Mistress said to me after she had lifted me off the hooks, "then get some sleep - busy day tomorrow." With that, she walked away and out of the barn, switching off the light and shutting and locking the door behind her.
I helped Bethany to get free, and we held on to each other, both feeling traumatised and in pain, as we staggered over to the pile of straw and collapsed onto it, realising that this was to be our only bed. We hugged tightly together for comfort, both of us quietly sobbing and trying to come to terms with what had just happened to us.
We held each other like that for what seemed like hours. At some point, one of us - I think it may have been me - started to ‘Kiss it better’, gently applying my lips to the tender flesh on her breasts and, eventually, moving down to her badly abused pussy. Without a word, though with a mutual consent, we slid round into a 69 position and ‘comforted’ each other to a blistering climax, before once more cuddling and, eventually, falling asleep.
As my eyelids grew heavy, I thought about the day we had just endured - just this morning, we had been looking forward to this ‘holiday’, and now we were just praying that we could survive it…
End of part 7
Copyright© 2014 by Jennifer Harrison. All rights reserved.