Cemented

M+F+/f, consensual, S/M, hair

Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.

Although there is discussion of a snuff film in the story, this is NOT a snuff story. If you need to be reassured, go to the last part of the story and you will find the heroine riding off to new and better adventures. The author is well aware that some folks really don't like snuff (personally, I think it is a waste) and so I am going to extra lengths to appeal to your curiosity.

Cemented Chapter 4

In this chapter, Valerie faces one of her death scenes. Will it be the end? Read on.

Valerie was confused. She had assumed she would be undone and released to await another ordeal on another day. This time things seemed to be different. She had been placed in a small building after the maid (in a full latex cat suit) had washed off the worst of the shit, but she was still bound in her smelly leather and secured to the push cart. And then some bright lights came on, and she immediately puzzled it all out. She was in a drying room. The bright lights were heat lamps and soon her leather would begin to dry on her and to her.

The heat felt good at first. The moisture in the leather was cooling her and the heat warmed her. But then, the heat became very hot and her leather was drying, and shrinking!!! The boots were getting tighter on her feet. The single glove containing her now fully asleep arms seemed to be tightening for her shoulders were being pulled back. So far, the heat hadn't penetrated the cloak but she knew it soon would and with it, the corset would tighten. She wished she could close her mouth but no way. The lights went off.

The maid, still clothed in the latex cat suit, entered and began to remove the straps holding her to the cart. Then she removed Valerie's cloak. After that, the single glove was removed. Valerie's arms just hung at her side as she was unable to move them. The maid began to vigorously massage Valerie's arms and very quickly the increased circulation brought first the tingling sensation and then movement. Her gloves were removed as was the corset. Valerie nearly collapsed, but the maid supported her until Valerie grew accustomed to the situation. The maid put leather cuffs on Valerie's wrists and then caused a couple hooks to lower from above. These were fixed to her wrist cuffs and very soon Valerie's arms were rising towards the ceiling. When her boots left the floor, all her weight was suspended by her wrists. She had liked this position when she and here husband had played, and she still liked it. She felt the maid remove her boots and hose. So there she hung. There was still a terrible odor but even that lessened when the maid removed her clothing from the building. The maid returned and fixed cuffs to Valerie's ankles, and very soon Valerie was in an X position as the ropes on her ankles drew her legs apart and the ropes on her arms were also pulled to the sides. Not too bad, yet, Valerie thought. Then the maid applied a soft brush to her body. It was soapy and the maid gently scrubbed her body. It almost tickled, but it felt grand, and the odor was becoming a bad memory. Because Valerie was suspended off the floor, the maid had to use a long handled brush to get to Valerie's face and bald head.

After rinsing her with a gentle, warm spray, Valerie was lowered and the ropes were removed. The maid removed the putty from her ears and nostrils, and the gag. Although a long soak in a tub filled with warm water and bubbles would have been her choice, Valerie had to admit she felt much better. And then the maid motioned for Valerie to follow. Out of the small building they went and began to walk towards the house, Valerie still nude.

When they reached the house, Valerie discovered the whole group gathered. But there was a major difference – all were nude except all wore hoods. The two women had average figures – nothing spectacular but still nice. The men were very different. The cocks of two of them were very tiny indeed. One was not circumcised. Two others had moderate sized cocks. One was a little larger and one was – only one way to describe it – horse sized.

She was asked how she felt.

‘You mean my stomach, don't you? Ugh But it was worth it - I had a nice cum.'

The Group laughed. ‘And I survived another ordeal,' Valerie added after she had lighted a proffered cigarette. Again, she noticed the members of the group looked uncomfortable. She again wondered what that was about.

One of the women interrupted her thoughts with another proposition. Our plan was to put you through one ordeal and then kill you. With your agreement, we increased the number of ordeals, and this morning you told us that were beginning to like what was happening to you. We will offer you an additional ordeal, with an appropriate additional payment to your sons, that will not be life threatening but you might wish you might want to die. We would like to whip you very severely. Are you interested?

Wow, Valerie thought, as she drew deeply on her cigarette. A whipping. Severe. It wouldn't be a death likely act but could she handle it? ‘When would you like my answer?' Valerie asked, stalling for time.

She was told to take all the time she wanted to think about it but that she had to give her answer within five minutes.

Why the rush, she wondered, and then she figured out they wanted to do it immediately while she was recovering from her shit bath and meal. So, she again drew deeply on her cigarette, snubbed it out viciously, and said, ‘Let's do it.'

So, shortly, she was secured on a whipping bench. The device had a curved upright so that when she was secured to it, her back bowed concavely. It was not extreme, but it would hold her fully open for a whipping. The one benefit was that the tip of the whip could not curl around her. She had been whipped before but, somehow, she figured this was going to be worse, much worse.

It WAS. She was on the special device as her ass was beat to what had to be a bloody mess. All seven of the Group had participated. They had used shoe soles, paddles, quirts, tawses, cains, even hickory sticks. And, yes, she had let them know how each stroke felt. Shit and piss were frequent descriptions but motherfucker, bastard, pervert were also heard.

After what seemed an endless ordeal with constant pain, she was released from the device and secured with her hands over her head. She could move but that was a mixed blessing. She was told the next item was a bull whip. She had never been whipped before with a bull whip and had no idea how it would feel. With the first stroke, she knew it would be a bitch but since her legs were not secured, she could dance around. Still the bull whip seemed to get her no matter what she did. If she did not move, the whip mostly got her back with the occasional wrap-around. If she danced, the whip went everywhere. She knew she was being heavily marked. Her howling had diminished to merely a whimper or a grunt with each stroke.

And then she exploded. She hadn't felt it coming, but when the tip of the whip hit her clit, she just erupted. She went off the ground. She spun. Thankfully, the Group just stared at her in amazement. They had all seen women under the whip have cums before but this was classic, a new level of sexual response.

When she finally calmed down, with both feet on the ground, the whipping resumed, relentlessly. Valerie had passed into another world. She knew the whip was falling on her back, her front, her legs and even her arms. She knew they hurt, but she was like a spectator at her own whipping. She observed herself react to each stroke – not with any vigor but more an automatic response as if saying I'm still alive. Your fucking whip hurts, but I can live through it. Keep it up. She had begun to arch her back outward so that the whip could strike more of her skin.

The Group had exchanged the whip among them so that each had applied several strokes. They too knew that Valerie was now challenging them, and they tried to meet her challenge. Each of them was now swinging with all their strength. Still, Valerie absorbed their strength and seemed to be drawing stronger herself. Intuitively, they knew she could not last forever, so they were not concerned that they couldn't whip her to death, if they chose. But they had to admire her spunk, her stamina, and her sexuality.

Eventually, the whipping did stop. She had been severely punished but she sensed they weren't done with her. Indeed, the Group still had other plans for her, and they wanted her to survive. Besides, her back now looked about like her ass. In addition, there were livid welts across her tits, and the front and back of her thighs.

She was lowered and helped to lie down, face down, on a chaise lounge. She startled them, saying, ‘Is that all? Well, if you're all done, I'll have a drink and a smoke.'

“You want more?” one of the women asked.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Valerie began, “I have been severely beaten before. I'm terrified at the beginning and I really can't handle the pain, but I know I have to as there is really nothing else I can do. And, as the beating continues, and the endorfins click in, I pass deeply into sub space. And that is when my body begins to tingle to the kiss of whatever is being used to punish me.”

Stunned silence for a while, and then the same woman asked, “So what do you want to do?”

Valerie rose and said, “String me up again.”

And it was done. This time, six of them watched while one of the woman handled the bull whip. She seemed to have more expertise. She pulled the whip back, snapped it and sent it forward to Valerie's back. It was a mighty blow, and Valerie felt the shock and re-bounded. After a few steps back and forth, Valerie became calm again, and just then the whip cracked again and touched her back like a red-hot poker. She screamed and wobbled on her feet, but managed to control herself again only to hear the crack and feel the whip again. This kept up for quite a while. There would be a stroke, and then Valerie would be trying to master her sensations, and then she would re-position herself. Valerie had begun to moan, sort of a low hum, but on a stroke, she screamed and just collapsed in her bounds.

One of the men rushed to her, but by the time he got even with her, she stirred and began to hoist herself into position. He looked at her anxiously and asked, “Enough?”

She shook her head, and the whipping continued. There was blood all over her back. Some places, where strokes crossed other strokes, blood was running in rivulets. But the whipping continued. The others had moved back because they had begun to be spattered with Valerie's blood.

A second time she collapsed. No one moved. This time there was no effort by Valerie to regain her feet. “Enough,” she managed to whisper, but her whipper hit her again and yet again. And then she coiled her whip.

Very tenderly, two of the men released her and laid her face down on her chaise lounge. Then, one began to gently soak the blood away with distilled water. The blood stopped flowing but her back was a real mess. With care, she was carried to her room and laid face down on her bed. The Group left but her maid entered and began to treat her wounds. She applied a yellowish salve very lightly to the whip marks, and then she left.

Valerie slept but woke up near supper time. She started to rise but quickly collapsed as her body was stiff, especially her back. Nevertheless, she made another effort and managed to stand. Fortunately, she had grabbed the chair for as soon as she stood, she got dizzy. She held on to the chair and the dizziness passed. She reached out for a nearby table and got dizzy again, although less. She hung on for a while yet, and then moved again. No dizziness this time. So she began the walk downstairs.

The Group was having cocktails and were utterly startled to see her when she entered the room.

“What? No drink for me?”

Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at: belted1@verizon.net

Comments and criticism are welcome.