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JODI’S TRIAL
PART FOUR
The stark light reflects down across her face, her naked body. Eyes blurry, squinting, she groggily lifts, tilts her head. Feeling her arms, legs, tautly stretched, spread-eagled; her eyes are attracted up toward her wrists, down toward her ankles. Heart pounding she realizes they’re shackled by leather cuffs to the corners of a black, square shaped wooden frame mounted to the floor in the center of a stark, stonewalled room.
Shaking her head, she glances out across her chest toward a pair of silver chains stretching upward from her nipples, also connected to the upper tier of the frame.
Staring closer, she realizes the gold nipple studs have been replaced with larger, silver “O” rings secured to the glistening chains. Tilting her head forward, between her stretched breasts, she sees a third “O” ring being stretched out from her sore clit by a similar chain connected to the floor.
Frantically glancing around, starring toward the whitewashed walls, she tries to think, to understand. Flexing her fingers, tiptoeing, she feels the muscles, tendons in her stretched arms, legs burning as the shackles prevents her any other movement from the neck down.
Relaxed in front of his monitors, watching a couple in particular with interest, he leans back in his recliner, slowly rocking. Seeing her movement as she regains consciousness, he adjusts the camera in just a little closer, enough that the entire front side of her naked, stretched body fills the screen. A similar vision of her backside fills the other screen as he quickly adjusts its camera.
He’s allowed her to have her first night’s sleep since her abduction. After her bath last night she had slept soundly for the better part of ten hours in the master suite, barely budging, even as he quietly, carefully applied a small amount of chloroform with a saturated wash cloth across her face less then an hour ago.
Now that he’s prepared her for a morning session of discipline, and he’s allowed his breakfast to settle while he relaxed, watched her hanging there, he thinks to himself, it’s time to slip on the mask, turn her world upside down again.
Mind still groggy, she barely recalls the past surreal 24 hours or so. Being whipped, performing oral sex, to having sex, to being allowed to bath, to even having orgasms, all scrambled, race thru her mind. Now, she’s being stretched, tugged, and twisted from every angle of her naked body. As she squirms, twists, a small part of her feels it’s a nightmare, the rest of her knows better, especially as she hears the door open, slam, behind her.
“Swish!” The sound split’s the air. “Thwack!”
“Agghhhh!” Jodi’s screech fills the room, the black, willowy riding crop snapping above her left butt cheek.
He watches thru the slits in his black mask, silently, holding the crop in his right hand as her head jerks back, her long dark hair flailing across her oiled back. A thin, red welt instantly appears horizontally across her taut, rounded rump, barely stretching across the spread of her butt cheeks, just below the dimples in the small of her back.
“Swish!” Hearing the familiar sound, she reflexively tenses, the shackles, chains holding her rigid. “Thwack!”
“Oomph!” Another slashing blow glances across her right butt cheek, a little lower then the first. Another thin, red welt instantly rises as she jerks, the chains tugging at the “O” rings of all three pierces.
“Ohhh… Gaaaddd!!!” Tears streak down her cheeks, drip across her spread, lifted breasts as they’re tugged apart by the top set of chains.
Jerking her head from side to side, she tries to glance around, to see what’s stinging her naked flesh. Her mind races, she realizes she’s again helpless, again being administered a painful session with the crop.
Positioning himself behind her just to her left, he takes aim, repeatedly flicks his wrist. “Swish… Thwack!…… Swish… Thwack!… Swish… Thwack!!!” The riding crop curls, flexes, flicks rapidly back and forth, time and again.
“Agghh!…Aggghhhhhh!!!… Aggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!” She instantly feels the repeated stings of the first lashing across her left butt cheek, followed closely by the second across her right, the third, just as quickly, vertical, upward from the floor, directly between her gapping slit, glancing off the clit ring.
Head jerking, nipples stretching, her clit burns pulses, tinged with a speck of blood oozing from the piercing, mixed with a spurt of urine. Gasping for air, her eyes swelling, reddening, roll upwards in her head.
Quickly stepping directly behind her, with barely a moment’s respite, he flicks the crop back and forth, side to side a couple more times.
“Swish… Thwack!” “Agghhhh!” “Swish!… Thwack!” “Oomph!” Another pair of stinging blows find their mark, this time the crop bending, curling, circling under her glistening, hollowed armpits, the first slicing across her left breast, the second flicking across the tip of her right nipple. The chains flex, tautly stretch, flex again as her breasts bounce, sway under the lash, only to instantly stand solidly up off her arching torso, her nipples tugged, stretched upward in the “O” rings affixed to the chains.
“Ooooohhhhh!!!!… Ooooohhhhh God!!!!” Sobbing, moaning, her body reflexively quivers, feels as if it’s on fire, breasts, buttocks, vagina. Her head slips forward, downward, her chin making contact, quivering on her heaving breastbone.
Lowering the crop, remaining silent, he carefully inspects the quick but painful damage he’s inflicted on her from behind. Taking interest in how her stretched muscles, tendons, glisten from her spread eagled arms, legs, he watches as they sporadically twitch, bathed in a fine coat of body oil, perspiration. Tracing the thin, crisp, red welts crisscrossing her butt cheeks with his index finger, he circles the pair of stripes across the outer globes of her breasts with the tip of the crop. Just glancing toward the single welt parting her slit, he slowly steps around in front of her.
“Well slave! Got your attention?” He states in a low, barely audible tone. “Look at me!”
Glancing upward thru her tear laden eyes, raising her head, she silently stares into the dark eyes behind the black hood.
“You disappointed me. Didn’t I treat you well last night?” He asks in the same tone.
The pain still pulsing thru her whipped flesh, her arms legs aching, her nude body tautly stretched, she’s confused, struggles to find words, the words he wants to hear. “Ye… Yes Sir! You… You were… But… But… How did I… I disappoint you? I don’t know… I’m… I’m sorry!!” She stutters, pleads.
Glancing down between her thighs, silently, slowly, he lets the crop glide upward from the floor, along the glistening silver chain.
Feeling the tension between her legs, the chain being tugged, she tilts her head forward, stares with wide eyes toward the tip of the crop as it reaches the “O” ring.
“Look at me! Head up! Keep it up there!” He orders, again beginning to feel the satisfaction of his complete control over her, both physically and mentally, his eyes locking with hers.
For a few seconds he lets the crop flick back and forth, stretching the chain, flicking the “O” ring, gently, softly as her clit stretches, twists between her puffy labia lips.
She stares back toward his mask, whimpering, fearing the hard leather flicking back and forth between her unprotected thighs, her exposed vagina. The ring tugs, twists at her stretched clit, still stinging from the single stroke she’s already received between her slit.
Again glancing downward, he lets the tip of the crop slide beside the chain, into the parting split of her vulva. Sliding the crop gently back and forth, slowly in and out, two, three inches, he can feel her reflexive twitches thru the handle of the crop.
She also feels a tinge of the sensation, the tingling, as the leather glides in and out, just barely, just enough to grind across her engorged, stretched clit, each stroke painful, yet also somehow, strangely stimulating. Biting her lip, she suppresses her moans.
Sliding the crop off the chain, lifting it, he lets its glistening tip tap across her sternum, below her chin. “Open your mouth… Part your lips.” He directs as he slides the tip of the crop up against her left cheek.
Instantly obeying, she feels the tip of the leather press against the side of her mouth, slide between her lips. She tastes the bitter sweet sensation across her tongue, she tastes herself.
“Lick it! Suck it dry like you mean it!” He directs as he watches the glistening two, three inches of the crop disappearing between her lips. “Now!”
Glancing back toward him, she slowly begins to slide her mouth back and forth, sucking, circling the hard leather tip with her tongue. Closing her eyes, tiptoeing, clinching her fists, nodding her head back and forth, she forces herself to suck her own juices off the crop.
Watching, enjoying the site of his beautiful slave humiliating herself, performing fellatio on the crop he whips her with, heightens his sexual urges. Letting his free hand slide down across her thigh, his index finger, and thumb flick across the “O” ring, he feels the dampness of her moist slit across his fingertips. Sliding his fingers back out, away from her twitching flesh, raising his hand slowly to his mouth, he slides the tips of his fingers, thumb between his lips, also tasting her fluids.
“Okay! That’s enough.” Pulling the crop from between her lips, dropping it to the floor, he cups his palms underneath her firm, round globes. Pinching each “O” ring between a thumb and forefinger, leaning toward her face, looking directly into her eyes, speaks. “What’s the rule about touching yourself?”
“Wha… What?” She stammers, feeling her nipples twisting in his fingers.
“The rule! The rule about touching yourself, Slave!” He scolds, twisting, tugging.
“Ohhh!” Whimpering, glancing down toward her aching nipples, she whines. “Not… Not allowed! Master! I’m not allowed! Right?”
Releasing her nipples, still cupping her breasts, turning his head, he quietly asks. “Have you?”
Her heart skips a beat; dread builds in her chest, her mind races. “Have I… Hav…”
Cutting her off, again feeling the excitement, personal pleasure of dominating her, he states emphatically. “Think before you answer! Lying is unacceptable! Totally! The consequences are unimaginable! Understand?”
He can feel her body quivering, her heartbeat pounding in her breasts as the firm globes rest in his palms. He feels the stiffening between his thighs, his own escalating heartbeat as he stares into her welling, pleading eyes, asks again. “Well?”
“Ohhh, I’m… I’m sorry Sir! I’m sorry!” She whines, lowering her eyes, a tear streaking down her cheek.
“About?” He asks, sounding stern, harsh, while inside, chuckling to him self, enjoying her misery. “I said about?”
Looking back toward him, directly into the slits in his mask, she shakes her head back and forth, stutters. “La… Last… Last night… Master! I… I took the bath after you had… I mean… I mean we had… Had sex!”
Squeezing both breasts firmly in his grip, their eyes interlocking, he calmly states. “Go ahead! After we had sex, what?”
A lump in her throat, her stomach tightening, she blurts. “Ohhhh!… Ohh Master! I touched myself in… In the bathtub! Master, in the tub while I took the bath! I’m sorry! Really! I… I couldn’t help myself! The water… The pulsing water!”
Trying his best not to smile, enjoying every second of this insane conversation, his mind works overtime thinking of different angles to take, different ways to embarrass, humiliate her even more as her incredible naked body’s stretched obscenely out in front of him, with her still trying to carry on some sort of dialogue.
“What?” He scolds. “You mean I wasn’t good enough for you? I couldn’t satisfy your animalistic urges?” He asks, sarcastically, shaking his head while thinking to himself how pleased he is of himself, coming up with that ridicules line, knowing that the amount of GHA she’s consumed the past few days would keep her cravings at a nearly impossible level to satisfy! “Ohhh! No!!… No Master!!!” She pleads, whines, shaking her head back and forth. “You… You were wonderful! Really… Really!! You were Master! You really were!”
Reaching, thinking, wondering just how far he could go with this head game, he again firmly squeezes her breasts, leans toward her, stares directly into her pleading eyes, asks. “Did you?”
“Wha… What Master? Did I What?” She moans, pleads, her eyes flicking back and forth toward his mask, not knowing what to say.
“Did you cum?!” He demands, more of a statement then a question, still staring unblinkingly back at her.
“Ohhh! Yes… Yes!… Master! I did! Yes!” She blurts, hoping, praying her answer will not displease him. Besides, she thinks to herself, she did cum with him!
Sliding his hands from her breasts, he leans over, picks up the crop. “When?” He sternly asks, of course already knowing the answer. Matter of fact, knowing he did too!
“When… When we made lov……I mean, when we had sex, Master!” She answers, her heart thumping, her arms legs, almost numb, the chains twitching from her breasts, clit.
Proud of himself, excited, his shaft twitching, swelling in anticipation, he taps her across her left breast with the tip of the crop while remaining in his stern outershell. “When we had sex, huh! How ’bout in the tub?!!” Again more of a statement.
Her face instantly looses color, turns ashen, tears trickle off her cheeks. Lowering her head, flustered, barely audible, she whimpers. “In… In the tub? Ohhh Master! Ohhh! In the…. Yes… Yes in the tub too!… I… I.”
Flicking the crop under her chin, he lifts her face upwards, again stares into her eyes. “What should your punishment be? Slave!”
What?… Wha… Ohh Master?” Whimpering, shaking her head, lowering it, she visably goes limp in her restraints, sobs.
Briefly, fleetingly, he almost feels a tinge of sorrow for his slave, but then decides this is too fun to quit now! Gently flicking the crop, tapping her left nipple, right nipple, the ring in her clit, he tries with a great amount of difficulty to sound upset, stern. “I said. How should you be punished! But know what? I think I’ll help you decide!” Again winging it, he talks as he thinks. “I think your pussy needs whipped! Yes… Yes a good whipping right across those bare cuntlips with this crop!” On a roll, he continues. “The question is, how many? Well, what do you think, Slave?”
Glaring thru her tears at the crop flicking across her bare flesh, she tries to comprehend, to grasp what to say. “Ohh God! Please No! Plea…” Probing the tip of the crop into the “O” ring stretching her clit, he butts in. “It’s not up for discussion, Slave! Pick a number, and it better be a good one! Or, I’ll triple it! Or more! Now pick or I’ll pick for you!”
Watching her mentally wilt in front of his eyes, especially spread eagled, quivering naked in her restraints, excites him even more. “Answer slave! Now!”
Twitching, almost surreally, she lowers her swollen, reddend eyes, stutters hoarsely. “Si… Six… Six Master! Six? That enough? Please? Okay?”
Again the rush, again the feeling he could cum right now. Surprised, thinking to himself he’s in Utopia!…This incredibly beautiful, naked woman is begging to be whipped across her bare pussy with a crop!…Now, just a little more humiliation for her, just a little.
“Look me in the eyes. Beg to be hurt Slave! Enthusiastically, how many strokes! Where? Cuntlips! Your bare Pussy! And why! Give me a good description too and maybe I’ll consider it. Beg me, or otherwise?” He orders with his last ditch effort not to show his amusement.
Slowly raising her head, staring thru her tears, again directly into his mask, she softly whimpers. “Please… Please Master! Whip me across my bare pussy with the crop! Whip me six… Six times across my cuntlips with that crop! Please Master! Hurt my pussy for touching myself! Hurt my pussy! Hurt me! Punish me!”
Sliding the crop’s tip from her clit ring, his heart thumps in his chest as he leans down, disconnects its chain, lets it drop to the floor. Standing, facing her, he softly speaks.
“It’s a good thing you were honest! You’re getting the six strokes though!” Flexing the crop in his hand, he adds. “Two across each cuntlip. The final two across the clit ring! Count out loud, you know the rules. Keep track!”
Glancing back toward him, she can already feel the leather assaulting her most sensitive flesh. Maybe she should have only said three…Or even two…She thinks to herself, reflexively shaking her head.
Almost anticlimactically, he positions himself to her right, slides the crop gently up and down her inner right thigh, gives it a flick, not gentle, yet, not harsh. “Thwack!” The crop flicks between her thighs, the tip stinging the bare flesh of her left labia lip.
“Ooomph!…. Ohh… One!… One across my pussy… Master! Th.. Thank you!” She grunts, realizing the pain’s not nearly as harsh as it could have been.
“Okay slave, five more! The next one’s across the other side.”
“Thwack!” Another flick, a similar stroke sinks into the moist fold of the right lip.
“Agghh!… Two Master… That’s two strokes across my pussy… Two… Thank you Sir!” She acknowledges, actually with a sense of relief as to the severity of the first couple strokes, neither nearly as severe as a few minutes ago.
Stepping directly in front of her he slides the tip of the crop across the glistening “O” ring, softly, gently, the tip almost caressing the engorged nub of her clit.
Biting her lip, she feels herself flinching, the hard leather flattening her sensitive nub, knowing that she’s getting closer to a couple of painful lashings across it.
“Okay!” He continues. “Count.” “Swish… Thwack!… Thwack!” Flicking the crop upward from the floor, its tip snaps across her right labia fold quickly followed by a flick across the left puffy flesh.
“Ohhh…Ouch!!” She squeals, twisting in her restraints. “Ohh! That’s three… And… And four… Across my pussy Sir! Thank you… Master!”
Stepping beside her, he lets the tip of the crop flick across the chains stretching up off her nipples, whispers in her ear. “Ready for your clit, Slave? Tell me!”
Stiffening, with a whimper, she glaces toward the mask. “Ye… Yes Master! I’m ready. For you to whip my… My clit!”
“Okay then, Here’s number five!” He calmly states as he again steps directly in front of her tensing body.
“Thwack!” The tip of the crop snaps a little harder between her cuntlips, sinks into her moist gash, and glances off the twisting “O” ring.
“Gaaadd!!!” Bucking, twisting, the pain jolts thru her womb like a hot brand. “Five!… Five! That one’s… Five Master!! And… And across my clit! Ohhhhhh!”
“That hurt much?” He asks while glancing down between her spread thighs, watches her perspiration beading, trickling down her quivering legs.
“Ohhh yes… Yes Master! My My clit’s sore! It hurts!” She whimpers, barely swaying in her restraints, glancing down between her glistening breasts, and then pleadingly back toward his black hood.
“Well, just one more.” He answers as he reaches down with his free hand, gently flicks the “O” ring, rubs, carrasses her twitching nub between his thumb and forefinger. Feeling her twitch, her pubic mound flutter, he softly squeezes, melds, and twists her swelling clit as he lets the tip of the crop press across her left nipple.
“After this lashing, I’m going to reclamp the chain on the “O” ring and leave you spread eagled like this. Until this evening!” He addresses her. “That’ll let you meditate. Think about the consequences of touching, satisfying yourself without permission. Understand?” He finishes, glancing into her hazing eyes as he continues to stroke, meld her swelling flesh between his finger and thumb.
“Yes Master! I understand, yes… Yes!” She answers, again hearing herself saying what he wants to hear, again feeling that stirring in her womb, that feeling in her pulsing clit, her twitching thighs. “Ohh Yes Master! Whip my clit now, please!
Lowering the crop between her legs, continuing to manipulate her swelling clit, feeling her reflexive response, he slips the crop’s tip between her spread slit. Giving it a subtle flick up across the sensitive, thin membrane parting her vagina walls from the rim of her anus, then rubbing it slowly back and forth, back and forth, her hips twitch, jerk in rhythm.
“That was six, Slave!” He whispers in her ear, finally lowering the crop, continuing to tug, twist and stroke, masturbating her pulsing clit with his fingertips, watching her glazed eyes rolling upwards as she bites down on her lower lip.
“Ohh Yeee… Yessss!” She moans, groans, twitching uncontrollably. “Ohh!… That’s… That’s sixxxxx???”
End Part Four
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