Chapter 5
Bonnie was determined to take her sweet time with the whipping, making sure that all the attachments on the board where Crissy was attached were sharp and menacing. What fun!
This was meant to be punishment, and the longer and more agonizing it was, the more he felt the punishment would be effectively administered.
There is a form of whipping known as " striping," or " crucifixion," that Bonnie had been eager to try on a victim. She'd first come across it in one of the novels she kept stashed in her special drawer at home.
Striping involves using the whip to create a series of marks on the victim's body, so that the pain will crisscross, and increase in tension, as the skin reacts at so-called cross purposes. The term crucifixion comes from the more right-angled crossing of the whip marks.
Bonnie meant now to give Crissy a severe striping. She had tried to escape from her, and after using the vibrator on her, she was sufficiently warmed up so that she would be able to withstand the most severe of punishments.
She began by snapping the whip in the air several times, creating a crackling sound that sent fear shooting into Crissy's veins. She knew that there was no way she was going to be able to avoid what was surely to come. She was worried that her tender skin wouldn't be able to take the severe physical abuse it was about to receive. She closed her eyes, tried to brace herself as best she could, and waited for the inevitable.
It began from behind.
She was unable to twist around to watch, because her hands were tied to the cuffs in an almost upright position, so that the turning of her head was blocked by her upper arms.
There was no mistaking the force or the pain that followed.
THWACK! The first blow crossed her ass smoothly, hitting both cheeks as it laid down an intense, red. pouting smack. It forced Crissy to jump forward, emitting a quick, soft, " mmmfff" through her now ungagged mouth.
"That's right," Bonnie said. " I'm going to let you have it real good now."
THWACK!! Again, the whip came down, this time at a slightly different angle, so that the marks appeared to cross each other.
"Please, Crissy pleaded, but it was no use. She was working herself up into a lather now as she continued to bring the whip down, blow after blow, on her delicious bottom, until there wasn't an inch left of unmarked skin.
Crissy was twisting and turning on the chains that were holding her extremities. She was blathering and pleading and nearly incoherent with the pain she was feeling. When she left her ass she went down to the backs of her thighs, determined to mark those up as well.
She did this methodically, constantly turning the whip so that the blows would overlap, yet continue to hit new skin.
"Please...." Crissy sobbed, begging her, as she came around front, to have mercy on her, that surely she wasn't going to survive such a thorough beating.
But her pleading fell on deaf ears. She began by laying down three hard smacks across her tits, causing her head to flail back and forth, and for her to cry out again and again for her to please, please stop.
Now, she started to push the whip up the front of her thighs, and she stopped her pleading, making noises only as she cried out with the slapping of the hard leather lash on her skin. But when it finally came home, when she finally started to lay the lash into her so that the tips kissed the inner lips of her pussy, she screamed at the top of her lungs, reverting to a form of primitive hate and fear that she thought she wouldn't survive.
"I can't...." she sobbed, over and over again. " Oh God, I just can't take this...." she screamed, and finally, in a burst of agony unlike any she'd ever experienced before, she fell forward into a death-like faint.
She was finished for now. her arm was sore from handling the whip. She hadn't done this much physical work since she'd earned pick-up money last summer chopping wood.
Now, though, she surveyed her work. She was even more beautiful now as she was slumped over in a temporary faint than she was when she was struggling. Her naked body glistened with her own sweat, the sweat of sweet torture that showed no signs of letting up.
This was Sunday, there was a full day to go before her parents would even think about returning home. She had lots of time to do things to her that she'd only dreamed about in the past.
She got the next sets of implements from her bag.
She reached in and pulled out the candle. Nothing like a little more wax! This was the first instrument of the next phase of her torture. She also retrieved the special harness that she had purchased, just for this occasion.
She began to come to just as she was attaching the harness to her tits.
"What ... what are you doing to me now?" she asked, a note of terror in her voice, alongside a certain breathlessness that told Bonnie in spite of everything, she was being turned on by her relentless manipulations.
She tied the harness around her so that her tits were made to protrude, even more than the overhead hanging of her arms made them. She was so perfectly formed that in this position, the nipples of her tits actually pointed upward. Beautiful, Bonnie thought to herself. Beautiful and all mine.
The harness had two bases that came out, between her tits, so that when properly attached, they forced the fleshy gloves to be even more spread apart than they already were, with little wooden trays acting as holders, between them.
It was to these trays that Bonnie attached the two tall candles.
"Don't hurt me anymore," Crissy begged. " Please...."
"You have been a bad girl to me," Bonnie finally said, after maintaining her silence for so long. "I really don't want to hurt you. I'd much rather be making love to you."
"Yes," she said, sounding as enthusiastic and honest as she did. "Why don't you. I'd love to feel your cock in my...."
She was cut off by the slap of her hand across her face.
"Don't speak to me anymore unless you are spoken to. Do you understand that?"
She shook her head, not being able to hold back the tears. Sometimes, a slap could be more severe than a whipping. She was brought up so that her parents had never lifted a finger to her, and now she was being brutalized by this ... this beast, she told herself, and for no reason. She could withstand almost anything, she knew, but not slapping. She hated slapping.
Now, she stood at mute attention as she watched, from her position of being trussed and hung from the ceiling and spread out from the floor, as Bonnie held a match to the bottom of the candles, to soften them up and make them more easily attachable to the bases between her breasts.
That was it. She was going to make her a living candelabra. She didn't understand why. What was the big charge about hanging candles off a harness on her chest?
She was soon to find out.
Once the candles were in place, she warned her that she wasn't finished with her whipping, and that any untoward movements on her part would result in her being badly burned.
Now she got the picture. She tried to brace herself as best she could, but because she'd taken a break with the whip, it was now more painful than ever to endure.
She went behind her and came down with the first whack.
"OOHHH...." she cried out, and the sudden impact of her lashing made her entire body shudder. What happened next was to impossible for even her to conceive. The jerking of her body sent the candles vibrating, causing them to spill their hot burning wax, just beneath their flames. The wax went spilling onto both of her tits, sending an excruciating sensation of burning flesh into the very bowels of her soul.
"NO ... DON'T DO THAT ANY MORE...." she screamed, but it was no use. She was determined to teach her a lesson she wouldn't forget. Again the whip came down, and again she involuntarily jerked her body, causing more wax to spill on her flesh, and to sear through it like a branding iron.
"I CAN'T TAKE IT ... I CAN'T ... OH GOD, I JUST CAN'T...." she cried, and with that, she began to piss, right where she was standing.
She reveled in the delight of actually having tortured her to the point where she was pissing from the pain. She watched, as she let out a long, golden stream of her magnificent water. She ran to the corner of the room where a flower holder was standing. Reaching in, she pulled the fresh flowers out and dumped the water on the floor.
She ran back to her and put the vase right up to her pussy, so she could catch as much of her stream as she could.
They were both able to hear the loud tinkling of her piss against the side of the vase as it rapidly filled up with her water.
When she was finished, Bonnie gently blew out the candles, careful not to let anymore of the wax hit the girl. She'd accomplished all she'd wanted to with this bit of torture.
Crissy's head was slumped forward as she finally went behind her and undid the harness that had been keeping the candles in place.
She yanked on her head from behind, to lift it. She studied her face. It was a conglomeration of agony and twisted expressions. She looked to be the victim of a very severe torture session, and that pleased Bonnie a lot. it was a testament to her prowess of a real motherfucker.
Now, though, she had yet another form of torture on her mind. She lifted the vase to Crissy's face.
"Drink it," she said simply. " Open your mouth and drink it."
"No." Crissy said, staring once again to weep, in spite of the fact that she knew it would do no good to be crying. "Please, mistress, have mercy ... please...."
But it was no good. She knew that her pleadings would fall on deaf ears, as they had for the entire night. She was so sorry now that she had even thought about escaping. If she hadn't, she might now be lying in bed receiving again and again the pleasure of her mistress's big prick, instead of having to endure the most severe, heartless punishment and torture that she could imagine.
Never, she told herself, never again would she disobey her. If only she would give her another chance. If only she would show some sign of mercy.
If only....
"I said drink it...."
She was hysterical now. She just couldn't, she told her. She just couldn't.
"All right, then. I guess I'll have to get the candles back on you. I promise you it won't be as easy as it was the last time...."
Easy? The last time she thought she was about an inch away from death. What could she possibly have in store for her now?
"All right," she finally said. "If my mistress wants me to drink my own ... water, I will do it...."
She'd given up all hope now. She was trapped, and she knew it. If only she would get this over with.
"That's more like it," she said, lifting the vase to her lips.
There was nothing she could do now. She'd said she was going to drink it and that's what she had to do. Closing her eyes and trying not to breathe, she opened her lips slightly, and felt the cool ceramic lip of the vase being brought up to it. She felt her hand going on the back of her neck, to help her get it all down.
She tilted back a little and felt the first acrid mouthful filling her up. It tasted surprisingly tart, almost lemony, with a husky odor to it, coming from the very insides of her womb. It was feminine and not altogether unpleasant, and she began gulping at it, taking longer and longer swigs, until finally, she was able to drain all that she had let out, that she had captured in her vase.
"That's right, finish every last drop," Bonnie said, as she gulped down the very special potion.
When she was finished, she took the vase away and dabbed at her chin, where some had ran down. Then she made her lick and suck her fingers dry.
When she was finished, she looked at her with sparking eyes. Maybe it was the slow buildup of the fire that was inside of her. Maybe it was that somewhere in her family's background they had come from a group of slaves, but whatever the reason, in spite of the heartless cruelly she had shown to her, she was now once more, perhaps more than ever, enamored of the man who held her prisoner. She had enjoyed being humbled, having to drink her own liquid, and it only made her more aware of how much she really liked all that was happening to her.
"You deserve a little break," she said.
The words came as a great surprise to her. Not that she didn't agree a break would be most appreciated. She just didn't expect to get one from her. From anyone else, yes, but not from her.
"Thank you," she sighed, as she let her hands out of the cuffs, and her feet off the bar.
It was the first time that night, except for the debacle with the bathroom, when she'd been totally free of any sort of restraint.
She rubbed her arms and legs with her hands. It was as if she hadn't been free for years, the way she felt now.
"You are going to bathe," she said to her, leading her to .the bathroom.
"Fill the tub with water," she commanded her, and she did so, letting the hot and cold water run together. She explored her medicine chest, and found the Parisian bubble solution there.
"Here," she said, "Use some of this."
Obediently, she leaned over the tub and let some of the crystals fall into it. In a while, the bubbles cascaded over the edge, filling the tub with the blue and reddish tinted bubbles.
"Get in," she said, and Crissy, unaccountably blushing now, stepped into the water.
The heat and the liquid felt so good against her abused skin. It was what she needed, to relieve the hurt she'd received from her. She put her head back and let the waters work their magic on her.
She leaned over, a wash rag in her hands, and began to wash her down.
She was taken with her care now, almost as kind she thought as she was cruel.
With the same intense concentration she had when she was punishing her, she now applied the loving care, almost of a father, as she washed every part of her body, paying special attention, naturally enough, to her pussy.
"That's right, daddy," she said, with her eyes closed, "Wash my little pussy, so it will be so clean for you...."
She laughed. She thought that was very funny. She was playing a little game with her, and she enjoyed that. She gave her a light kiss on her lips, and she opened her eyes to look at her when she did.
Staring at her for several seconds, she then put her dripping arms around her neck and drew her very close to her.
"Come here, mistress," she said, and brought her hooded face to her mouth. She planted her lips on her and gave her a deep, tonguing kiss, to let her know that no matter what she did to her, she was happy that she could be her victim.
"You've made me very happy," she said, as she licked at her mouth. " I love the things you do to me." she was blushing as she made this confession.
"I know," she said.
"I have something else to tell you," she said, as she leaned back and continued to let her work on her this lovingly.
"What's that?"
"I have a friend coming over this afternoon."
"A friend?"
"Yes. Linda. Linda is from the same school as I am. We were going to study together. Biology." That last line made her laugh. If Linda could only see her know, she'd get a biology lesson she'd never get in school.
"How interesting. Do you think she needs to be punished?"
Crissy's eyes lit up. She hadn't considered that even a possibility. That she could have some sort of hand in opening Linda up to a whole new world of ... lust.
"Well, she's not as ... understanding as I might be...."
"All the better...."
"Yes...." Crissy said, sinking back into the water, and letting it come up to her neck.
"Of course, if you think she wouldn't be a good victim...."
"She'd be perfect," Crissy said, licking her lips. " I'd love to use the whip on her myself," she said, looking at Bonnie with pleading eyes. " Except, of course, there is one thing."
"There's always one thing," Bonnie said, dryly. " Okay, what is it?"
"Well, I think I have to see your face."
Bonnie thought about this for a long time. She'd been planning to expose herself sooner or later. She knew what she meant by having to see her before Linda did, if they were going to be allies in this little melodrama they were constructing.
"I'll think about it," Bonnie said, knowing that she had very little choice in this particular manner.
"Oh, please, mistress ... I would love to see your beautiful face...."
"How do you know it's beautiful?"
"I know ... because you are beautiful, mistress. I think ... I think I love you, mistress."
The words rang in her ears like bells on a Sunday morning. She was falling in love with her. That was apparent from the level of tolerance she had displayed these last night and days. But, did she know the other side of the coin? Was she aware that her feelings, also, had come full circle? That she was falling in love with her, also? That she had succeeded in making her feel like no woman had ever made her feel in the past?
She smiled at her and kissed her again.
"I want you to finish your bath, darling, and then I have a surprise for you."
Her heart bounced. Could the surprise be the unmasking? the unmasking that she was so desirous of now?
Her head was filled with that thought, as much as it was filled with the idea of seeing Linda naked and writhing before the two of them.
Crissy thought more about it as the waters cooled her skin.
If one person, Bonnie, could do this much to her single-handedly, she could only imagine what she'd be capable of with an assistant, namely hers.
On the other hand, what if Linda wasn't as receptive to this particular brand of somewhat kinky sex.
But wait, she asked herself. What's kinky? If someone wants to work someone else's body, to bring them to a place they'd never been before, is that so awful? Is that so terrible?
Anyone who thought so should be forced to spend a night with Bonnie, and then express an opinion. Yes, she thought to herself, that's the best solution in the world.
Linda, was one of the most beautiful girls in school. She was blonde, tall, with a great body that sent most of the guys panting. She was the object of a lot of lockerroom talk, both the boys and the girls, Everyone wanted a piece of her, and as far as Crissy knew, no one was getting any. Linda was mysterious about her private life, and Crissy had to guess that someone was fucking her.
Well, she figured, if she had any secrets, they'd pry it out of her. Bonnie was an expert at making people say things they didn't know they were capable of saying.
She giggled.
Bonnie came back into the bathroom.
"How you doin'" she asked the girl.
"Fine, mistress. Much better. Thank you for letting me take this delicious bath."
"You're welcome. It's time for you to come out." She did as she was told, stepping out of the water and into the waiting towel.
She stood there and allowed Bonnie to wipe her down. She was careful and thorough, getting every inch of her body.
Then she took some talc and dusted her off, so that now she as as clean and powdered as a newborn baby.
"Thank you, mistress," she said to her as she led her by the hand back to the bedroom.
She put her in her bed, under the covers. When she was comfortable, she pulled the sheets and spread back and got in next to her. She smiled and put her hands on her shoulders and offered to give her a back rub. "Would you like that, mistress?"
"All right," she said, turning over on her back.
She straddled her, her knees on both sides of her lower back, as her fingers began to do their work on her.
She enjoyed feeling her hard back muscles. She was marvelously built, she thought to herself, without an inch of fat on her frame. How lucky she was to be able to benefit from her fertile sexual imagination.
She worked her fingers deeper into her muscles.
Suddenly, she had this idea that she could grab hold of her mask and rip it off her head, exposing her identity.
What she would do to her if she did something like that! It made her shudder!
It might be worth it!
No, she said. She'd learned her lessons well. She'd be a good girl, and save her more delicious instincts for Linda.
She giggled to herself. If the gorgeous blonde only knew the kind of trap she was stepping into. If she only knew!