Katrina's Taming

KATRINA'S TAMING (by Eve Adorer)

Chapter 8 – The Day Dancer

I had been made more than a little ill by my experience on the spiked torture chair and had lain abed for many a day and night, perhaps even for weeks, nursed in Jackie's London home. And, I will swear even now, that it had been Jackie's lovely lips that had kissed me gently on the forehead each night and morning.

Despite, or was it because of all the terrible torments I had endured at her hands, my love for Jackie still knew no bounds. Therefore, imagine the leap my heart took when full consciousness of my surroundings returned to me, and I reached out an arm stretching in the double bed in which I was supine, to feel a still warm patch next to where I lay naked.

I immediately sat up fully awake to look and see. There was nobody there, but the state of the bedding, and its fading warmth, and the hollow in the pillow told me that there had been. And then joy of joys for me, I found a hair on the pillow. This hair was undoubtedly Jackie's colour or was it Jackie's colour? I so wanted it to be Jackie's colour that it was Jackie's hair to me denying the flash of doubt that had gone through my hyper-state mind.

My beloved had lain with me in my bed. I had shared a bed with Jackie the love of my life. Jackie must love me too. It must be so mustn't it?

Even though the curtains of the room in which I was abed were drawn shut, I could see that it was light outside. I could not lie there for evermore I told myself, and decided to ready myself for an awakening session in Jackie's gym.

Jackie would be the last to take exception to my using her gymnasium and the last to object to my being there wearing only the tiny white micro-panties I had put on, not being able to find any other clothing, though I had grabbed the towel and shower gel apparently left out for me.

Then I noticed a light fresh-fruit based meal and fresh orange-juice on a tray, which must surely have been left for me. I sipped my drink and nibbled at an apple slice. All who know me have always remarked on how little I seem to eat. A girl has to look after her figure of course.

Without really thinking about it, as I shuffled about the bedroom aimlessly, yawning and stretching a little, and inspecting my flawlessly pretty face and oh so kissable lips in the mirror on Jackie's dressing table, I became aware of deep rock music coming through the walls of my room.

It got louder, and I now became all too aware of the thumping bass that penetrated through the bedroom door and walls and was accompanied by an occasional crack of what I could only assume, knowing Jackie, was a whip, followed by moans from a husky feminine voice, and loud laughter and giggles from several other women.

The music got louder and satisfaction of my awakening curiosity correspondingly more irresistible.

To this, I knew, or at least my instincts told me, Jackie was likely to object.

In respect of what was going on, I had no equal part to play with Jackie or the young sounding women who even now were emitting the laughter of astonishment as another crack of a whip had produced another pleasure-pain gasp and moan from whoever the poor girl was on the receiving end.

My role in the world at that time, though I would never then have admitted it, even though I mentally accepted it, was only the equal, if indeed that, of the poor girl with the sexy husky voice that somehow rang a bell with me even though she had not spoken a word as such.

If you had asked me there and then who the sexy voiced husky voiced girl was that was crying out in pain and pleasure, I would have answered Mi Li, the lovely Korean photographeress who had kissed me the once so passionately after a session we had done for a photo spread in “SapphFire”.

“SapphFire” was the gay-girl “pin-up” magazine chief rival to “Pink Girl”. My manageress had had a falling out with “Pink Girl” over outstanding payments for photos of me they had commissioned. This dispute caused a falling out, even though “Pink Girl” and “SapphFire” were both in Jackie's publication stable, and my manageress was Jackie's employee.

Another crack of whip on victim another cry from the poor victim more thumping music starting the same tune, if tune it could be called, over again, more amazed pleased and sniggering laughter from young women, what was going on? I just must find out what was going on!

I had been Jackie's friend and occasional guest long enough and often enough to know the layout of this, her London apartment. It sounded clearly to me that the “entertainment” was taking place in Jackie's downstairs lounge which could be easily overlooked from the balcony that one of the two doors of the first-floor room I was in, opened onto.

As if nobody were likely to see this door of my room being opened, and indeed they might well not do if too distracted, I got onto my knees to keep myself, as I thought, out of sight and sneaked onto the balcony keeping head low, startled initially by the music getting ear drum threateningly louder still as I opened the bedroom door to be hit by its full reverberating noise.

Rising from squatting on the stupendous thighs of my beautiful legs, I daringly popped my pretty head above the balustrade to see what was happening below in precisely the location I had assumed something to be going on in. And I watched totally transfixed.

I soon took in that my beloved Jackie, looking truly stunning in cowboy style boots, very tight jeans filled wondrously by her gorgeous little bum and an even tighter sweater, showing off her voluptuous upper body, was standing to one side from three pretty businesswomen.

At least, I assumed they were businesswomen from the way they were dressed. Just now they were stripped to their uniformly white blouses and two had their sleeves rolled up above their elbows, but they also had standard pinstripe skirts and looked, for all the world, as if the were from some bank or other financial institution taking a lunch break with added excitement.

The added excitement was being provided by Jackie. Or, it would be more accurate to say that the added excitement was being provided by Mi Li. Because it was indeed Mi Li, the gorgeous Korean photographeress who was on the receiving end of a cruel whipping down below me, and down below on her gorgeous body.

Mi Li was on the ground floor below the balcony, looking absolutely stunning. Her lovely little feet were shod in six-inch stiletto sling-backs, her hair, a good match for Jackie's in colour, was up in a ponytail, and she was dressed in some sexy garment that must have been devised by Jackie.

Mi Li was dancing to the heavy beat of the thumping music in front of the businesswomen. She had her pretty little hands cuffed behind her back.

Mi Li wore a dress down to her ankles. At least, it was down to her ankles and flowed in abundant lacy layers of red and white from her neck to her ankles at the back of her, but I could just tell that it was lifted away and open and exposing of her breasts and her sex at the front.

This lovely twenty-year-old Korean butterfly danced so very girlily and sexily and I could see from the look on a side view of her face, as she turned her face though not her body in her dance, that she was beside herself with pleasure: sexual pleasure.

The businesswomen were flicking out with their whips at poor Mi Li. They had three-foot long leather straps, which they were flicking in turn to whip poor Mi Li on her sex.

I caught sight of Mi Li's lovely legs and, from almost side-on, her beautiful firm pink nippled little breasts bouncing as she danced away rhythmically. And her businesswomen tormentors lashed out with their whips aiming at Mi Li's sex, aiming at what seemed to me, to be a curious and inefficient angle.

These would be torturers of Mi Li were pretty amateurish with cracking their whips, and the strange angle that they used seemed stupid to me as I watched and drank-in the lovely little Korean's sexy beauty, betraying my interest in what was going on, by the musky damp stain that was now very evident in the gusset of my tiny white micro-panties.

Unconsciously, I was dripping love-nectar into my panties at watching another girl being tortured. And I gave a little gasp as one of the whips flicked and I heard a loud smack and Mi Li stood stock still and moaned, and the striker with the whip jumped up and down with joy and her companions whooped with delight pointing arms outstretched at where the striking strap-whip had struck home on Mi Li, and then nudging each other to be sure they were all clearly witnessing that which was giving them such undiluted pleasure and overflowing excitement, as Mi Li recovered from the pain and began to dance once more.

The businesswomen speeded up the flicks of their whips and were getting better at it and the number of smacks on Mi Li's sex grew more frequent, and each one was greeted by Mi Li standing still moaning with pain and quite obvious husky voiced pleasure, and fighting the cuffs at her wrist in an understandable desire to use her pretty hands to sooth herself at front.

Two successive whip flicks then hit home on Mi Li and the businesswomen jeered as Mi Li nearly buckled at the knees as she cried out with the successive excessive pain. And the girls torturing her began to nudge each other and laugh and point and shout incoherently whoops of joy at their achievement of maximum pain for the little angel who danced displaying her exquisite body for their pleasure and, surreptitiously, mine.

Mi Li began her lovely body gyrating to the beat once more, and it was then that a particular hard and fast and accurate lash struck her from the side in the area of her groin, and she turned toward me and I let out an uncontrolled and uncontrollable squeak of shock pleasure and absolutely total surprise.

My uncontrolled and uncontrollable squeak of shock pleasure and total surprise was, in part from the huge squirt of nectar from my quim into my tiny little micro-panties caused by what I now saw.

What I saw, what turned toward me was the truly lovely shapely beauty of a Korean angel girl, with the exquisite features and almond shaped brown eyes, stupendously gorgeous little breasts, and supremely shapely legs of the gorgeous Mi Li, for indeed now I could see, even though I had no doubt before she had turned, that it was for absolutely certain, the stunning Mi Li who was dancing by day for the pleasure of these bank clerks, or whatever they were.

But what caused me to take in my breath suddenly and to let it out with a squeak that must have betrayed my presence, even though nobody looked up to where I was, was not just the squirt of my love-juice seeing Mi Li front-on caused me to produce, but the sight of what the torture had done to the deliciously sexy Mi Li between her legs.

For as Mi Li turned I could see with my full unencumbered 20:20 vision that this delicate doll Korean girl had in front of her, as part of her body, every bit as natural a part of her body as the rest of her porcelain doll delicately pretty perfection, and very much an extremely beautiful part of her body, the most enormous and stiffly erect penis I had ever seen.

Mi Li was a girlboy. Mi Li had an erect penis that looked swollen and painful in its own right, even without the whipping it must have been enduring for some thirty minutes by then.

Even allowing that Mi Li was but a little girl, no more than five-feet-one, her erect penis was massive. It stood stiffly upright unaided by any other factor than the state of Mi Li's arousal, at least nine inches, being above her belly-button as it mesmerically waved with the movement of her superb girlbody as she continued to try and dance to the beat.

Mi Li was a hermaphrodite. Mi Li had a penis and that penis stood upright proudly waving its joy-filled nine-inch-pleasure-erect state, its head further reddened and unnaturally swollen from the whipping it was getting, and Mi Li turned toward her tormentors once more, and one of their whips smacked the head of Mi Li's enormous erection with a vicious lash and an echoing “SLAP”, and Mi Li stood still and seemed to be having a fit as she went completely rigid and then shook uncontrollably. Fighting to free her hands to get them to her front, Mi Li uttered a deeply sexually sexy and almost inhuman grunt, followed by a long long groan, and the businesswomen cheered and jeered and whooped with pleasure, and then applauded as poor Mi Li's abundant semen spurted out of her sex's head, before running down that fiercely upstanding organ and dripping to the ground between her lovely parted legs.