Chapter 7
"George, you axe dismissed. I want you and all of your things out of the house and out of my sight in an hour," Aunt Helen said.
"Yes, ma'am," George said. His cock was still semi-erect and sticking out in front of him. It was wet and shiny from a combination of semen and cunt juice.
Aunt Helen was not interested in George or his cock. She wanted him to disappear. It was
Marina that Aunt Helen wanted to get her hands on.
Aunt Helen changed completely when she was angry, and Marina discovered this quickly. There was a crazed look of ire in the woman's eyes. She was on the verge of going berserk, and Marina could tell.
"Okay, you little slut, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I'm sorry, Aunt Helen. I wanted to know what it felt like."
"You wanted to know what it felt like. You stupid fool."
"It felt very good, Aunt Helen. I was having a good time."
"Don't you know that a girl can get in trouble that way."
"Y-Y-Y-Yes," Marina stammered nervously.
"You are going to be punished, Marina. I'm sorry," Aunt Helen said.
"I promise that it won't happen again," Marina said.
The little girl had never been so frightened in her life.
"That will not be enough. You will give yourself a douche and you will meet me in the master bedroom," Aunt Helen said. Marina was slick with sweat as she returned to the house without putting on her bikini. She washed out her pussy in the bathroom and returned to
Aunt Helen, who was waiting for her. Aunt Helen had changed her clothes. The black-haired woman was wearing the outfit of a dominatrix. She was clad in leather. Black leather.
"Aunt Helen!"
"There are things about me that you don't know," Aunt Helen said.
The large woman was holding a riding crop in her right hand.
"I can see that," Marina said, looking through wide, watery eyes.
"I once worked as a professional dominatrix bitch," the woman said.
"I'm not sure I know what that means," Marina replied.
"It means I was paid, and nicely too, to sexually abuse masochists."
"But why use those skills on me, Aunt Helen?" Marina said.
"Because I don't want you to be a slut. I don't want you to be a whore," Aunt Helen said. She tapped the horsewhip against the inside of her slightly cupped left palm.
"What exactly are you going to do to me?" Marina asked.
"You will be bound to the four bedposts," Aunt Helen said. "First on your belly so that your ass can be whipped. If I am feeling particularly mean, I may whip your back and the backs of your legs as well."
"And that will be it?"
"That's all you need to know about for now," Aunt Helen said.
"Then there will be more?" Marina asked fearfully, her voice quivering.
"I may have a few surprises up my sleeve," Aunt Helen said.
The woman had no sleeves. Aunt Helen was wearing a black leather corset which enhanced her perfect hourglass figure. There were cups at the top of the corset that lifted her tits even higher on her chest than they would have rested normally.
She was wearing a garter belt, black stockings, and black high heeled boots. She looked very savage. She even looked as if she had put on some extra make-up during the short time she and Marina had been apart.
"Please don't hurt me, Aunt Helen. I can't stand pain," Marina said.
"You will learn to love the pain," Aunt Helen said. She sounded very sure of herself.
"No I won't! I'll hate it. I will. I'll hate it every second," Marina said.
"We shall see. I think you want to be my sex slave," Aunt Helen said.
"No, I just want to be your niece. I want to go home. Send me home."
"Your mother and father put me in charge of you, Marina."
"But they won't want you near me if they know you are having sex with me."
"And who is going to tell them. Not you. Imagine that conversation."
It was true. There was no way Marina could muster the courage to admit she was having an incestuous relationship to her mother and father.
"Now get on your belly on the bed. Pronto!" Aunt Helen said.
Marina knew that she had no choice but to do what Aunt Helen said. The woman was bigger than her and faster, and stronger. Aunt Helen was going to beat the shit out of Marina whether she resisted or not. The little blonde decided that it was probably best not to waste the precious energy.
So Marina did as she was told without a squawk of protest. Aunt Helen produced four pieces of rope and used them to tie the little girl's limbs to the bedposts.
Marina was bound at the wrists and the ankles so that her elbows and her knees were locked in the straight position. There was no slack to her bondage.
It was stringent.
The little girl soon lost sensation in her hands and feet. Marina Cockerham's thighs were opened to a perfect ninety-degree angle.
Her ass cheeks and her pussy lips were forced open a little bit in this position.
Aunt Helen wasted no time getting the whipping started. She still held the riding crop in her right hand. She gripped the horse whip tightly.
The crop was made of the finest bamboo encased in black leather. It was designed for jockeys to beat the shit out of the haunches of their mounts.
Aunt Helen raised her arm high over her head and then brought the whip down across both of Marina's ass cheeks at the same time. The little girl heard the sound of the whip striking flesh a fraction of a second before she felt the agony. The whip striking her flesh reminded her of the sound of a gunshot. The sound alone was enough to make Marina wince. Then she felt the roaring fire of the pain. Her eyes swelled and turned red. Tears of agony streamed down her face, tasting bitter and filled with despair when they dripped downward to the corners of her mouth and eventually onto his tongue.
"Not so hard. Don't beat me so hard!" Marina screamed.
"I'm sorry I have to do this, Marina. But I must," Aunt Helen said.
"Don't hit me again. The first one hurt enough," Marina begged.
CRACK! The whip came down across both buttocks once again.
"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!! ! ! " the little blonde hollered.
CRACK!
This time Aunt Helen brought the riding crop down across the back of Marina's left thigh, the thigh closest to her. Angry red welts were being raised across Marina's skin.
Marina was very confused. She could feel a strange stirring inside her belly, moving toward her ass and her pussy. She felt as if she were getting horny. But how was that possible? How could agony make her horny? Marina didn't have the slightest idea but she knew it was happening to her.
CRACK!
Aunt Helen brought the whip down across the back of Marina's left knee. She continued to whip the little blonde. Marina's screams were horrible to hear like something out of a bloc '; horror movie. She was being tortured, and she could feel her sexual arousal mounting more rapidly than before.
Marina could feel the hot blood of her passion pumping into her pussy lips. She could feel her clit swelling. She could feel her fig lubricating itself. Her juicy peach was aching something fierce. Her brain was now confusing her pain and her pleasure. Her pain and her pleasure were becoming all but indistinguishable in Marina's reeling brain.
Marina's screams changed. Her body continued to jerk with each blow but not as violently. Her screams were not as loud but this was more because of exhaustion than anything else.
Her screams changed into moans. This was just what Aunt Helen wanted to hear. They were moans of pleasure. Moans of desire. Aunt Helen knew that she had been right about Marina. The little girl was an intrinsic submissive. She did yearn to be dominated. One thing was for sure, Marina had come to the right place.
Aunt Helen had been telling the truth about once being a professional dominatrix bitch. The black-haired woman was not the sort to bullshit.
Aunt Helen whipped the little girl until her arm was tired. Marina was having a lot of difficulty thinking rational thoughts. Nothing made any sense.
Things that felt good hurt and things that hurt felt good. She felt as if she were on the other side of the looking glass. Aunt Helen was sending her into never-never land once again only she was using grossly different methods.
Aunt Helen set the riding crop back on the top shelf of her closet. She decided that she would untie Marina for a while. She wanted to see the little girl crawl on her hands and knees because she was no longer able to walk!
Aunt Helen massaged the little girls hands and feet so that the sensation would return, and this would be the last nice thing Aunt Helen would do for her niece for some time to come.
"Come kneel before me, Marina," Aunt Helen exclaimed.
"Yes, Aunt Helen," Marina replied, her voice filled with subservience.
"I want you to kneel so that your mouth is close to my pussy."
"Would you like me to give you pleasure, Aunt Helen?" Marina asked.
"No Marina. I want you to swallow my urine," Aunt Helen said.
"Please, don't make me do that. Anything but that," Marina begged.
"You want to act like a toilet, you will be treated like a toilet."
"You are so cruel," Marina said. The little girl sobbed with despair.
"You will thank me for it in the end," Aunt Helen said sternly.
Marina threw back her head and opened her mouth very wide. Aunt Helen reached down between her own legs and peeled her inner cunt lips open.
Aunt Helen had been telling the truth when she said that her bladder was full. The truth of the matter was that Aunt Helen had to take a wicked piss, the same kind of piss that a beer-drinker would have to take if asked to hold a six-pack inside his bladder at once.
Aunt Helen opened up the floodgates and send the pee spraying down onto Marina. Aunt Helen missed Marina's gaping mouth on purpose at first.
Then the beautiful black-haired woman re-directed her aim so that the golden fluid went directly into Marina's mouth. The diminutive blonde swallowed down every drop and she didn't even gag once.