ATONEMENT

ATONEMENT

This is a story just possibly based on reality.  A story of a betraying wife, her circle of manipulating, cheating friends and their influence on her.  Forming a pact to separate from their husbands, the consequences of her breaking the vow is painful; humiliating as she struggles with her own conscience, chooses the wrong path, passes the point of no return and pays the price in more ways then one. The first chapter of the story begins with Bonnie submitting to a discipline session for breaking her promise to her supposed friends.

Chapter One

       Maneuvering onto the brick laden circular driveway from the gas-lamp lined street, the steady mist of rain leaves a shadowy haze in the early autumn evening air of the upper scale neighborhood.  The gas lights lining the curbs just beginning to flicker on, Bonnie glances through the slowly sweeping wiper blades toward the well kept house behind the abundance of trees, the meticulously manicured shrubbery and lawn.  An older Buick, Christina’s car, Christina’s driving as the pair’s been silent much of the half hour or so drive across town.

       In her late thirties, more then attractive, Bonnie’s actually still quite stunning.  Tanned, the firm, curvy body of someone barely more then half her age, she’s a dark eyed, dark haired beauty.  On the other hand, her friend Christina’s a couple years her elder, suggesting she’s just on the ‘big boned’ side’s generous and she’s certainly not nearly as attractive as she sees herself.  Both married, and along with Christina’s sister Charlene, the trio all are going through marital discourse of their own accord, the sisters having used, manipulated her.  In fact, Bonnie has been enticed by the sisters to leave her husband after being guided into adultery and the out of hand usage of her bank account and multitude of credit cards without his knowledge.

       A temporary separation agreed to but still willing to see one another as she tells him she just needs time, wants to sort things out in her own mind, she’s already being passively blackmailed by the sisters (For her own good, they tell her) being threatened that her indiscretions, some embarrassingly documented, will be exposed to him.  Now, under considerable pressure, she’s been forced to agree to be disciplined after spending what turned out to be an intimate night with him.

       The car slowing to a stop behind a parked, dark sedan, the wipers still swiping back and forth across their fogging up windshield, Cristina slides the column shift into park, stares straight ahead momentarily before speaking in a scolding tone.  “I can’t believe you Bonnie.”  She admonishes while slowly shaking her head back and forth.  “After we’ve discussed this after the last time, you still didn’t keep your word, your vow with us.”  Slipping the key from the ignition, glancing over toward her, Christina nods toward the parked car in front of them in the driveway, continues.  “I see Charlene’s already here with my brother and Tim.  They’ll be waiting inside for us… When I told them what I found out you did!… Let’s just say they were really upset with you… Oh, well, let’s get on in the house… Get that punishment you agreed too, started!”  Turning toward Bonnie, reaching across the seat, Christina palms her right hand under Bonnie’s left breast, giving a light squeeze. “You’re not wearing any underwear… Right?”

       A slow affirmative nod, glancing out the passenger window up toward the draped second floor window as she reflexively arches her back, slips her hand on the door handle, Bonnie barely whispers in an annoyed tone.  “No underwear… Chris… Just like you told me too… No underwear.”

       “You understand this is for your own good Bonnie.”  Christina scolds, dropping her hand down across Bonnie’s skirt, patting her fingers across her crotch before opening her door. “Shaved too?”

       “I said I’m shaved… And not wearing any underwear… Okay Christina?… Damn!!”

         “You have to leave him behind… Like we all promised each other.”  Keeping her hand between Bonnie’s legs, staring toward her face, her teary eyes, she continues.  “You’re going to be punished tonight for your own good Bonnie… You’re going to have welts on you that you can’t explain if you even think of being intimate with him again!”  Leaning toward Bonnie, squeezing her thigh, she almost rasps.   “It’s for your own good!... Damn-it!”

       Turning away, opening the car door, stepping out, Cristina walks around the front as Bonnie, still silent, opens her door, shuts it behind her as she again glances blurrily toward the house, again up at the pitch dark upper window centered under the peak of the dark stoned Tudor.  The pair walking through the mist, across the cobblestone walkway to the side entrance, the porch light flicks on as the door’s opened.  Charlene, Christina’s sister with the same physical characteristics, just a couple years younger, stands with her arms crossed before slowly moving aside as Christina steps up the couple flat slate slabs in front of Bonnie, leading her into the kitchen.

       “Do you believe she had sex with him again, Char?”  Christina rasps as she glances back toward Bonnie.  “I found out at work that she let him do her again a couple nights ago!”

       “I know… I know!... I couldn’t believe it either!”  Shaking her head slowly, nodding back toward her younger brother entering the room, Charlene smirks.  “She’s here… Might as well get upstairs… Tim getting everything ready up there?”

       “Oh yea.”  A nod, turning toward the steps, her borderline gothic appearing brother motions with his hand.  “Upstairs Bonnie!”

       Following, still silent, Bonnie counts the steps up toward the second floor, to a single large room, the room of atonement.  The landing leading to that singular, open room, its front window in fact covered with a heavy black drape, its walls soundproofed with similar heavy dark cloth, Bonnie reflexively crosses her chest with her arms as she enters behind the rest.  Glancing over toward the back wall, the discipline area with straps swaying down from eye hooks fastened in the peaked ceiling, dark leather cuffs dangle from their knotted ends.

       She can feel her stomach churning, her heart picking up a beat in the quietness of the foursome surrounding her.  Standing in the middle of the carpeted floor close to the steps, she glances around toward their eyes staring directly toward her as she presses her arms closer against her chest, lowers her head.

       Shuffling across a tray filled with assorted implements, Tim, the owner of the house, himself a long time divorcee is older then the rest.  Slender, somewhat distinguished looking with just a hint of a feminine trait or two, he shares his single bedroom house with Steven, has for some time.  Glancing up, nodding toward Steven, then back toward Bonnie as he handles one of a number of implements, a narrow bamboo shunt, he asks.  “Bonnie… You’ve agreed to be punished… That’s why you’re here tonight with us… Right?”

       A hesitant nod while still starring toward the floor, she whispers.  “Ye…Yes… I agreed.”

       “Okay… Then that’s settled!”  He smirks as he glances at the sisters, back toward Bonnie, swishes the willowy cane back and forth through the air.  “Now… Go stand over there with him where you’ll be striped naked so we can start by whipping your tits with this… Okay?”

       Instantly flushing a beat red, the warmth spreading across her face, glancing at the bamboo, then back down toward the floor, she barley nods her head in the affirmative as her forearms press even tighter against her tingling breasts, the thought of what he just said, the sight of the flailing crop being swished back and forth almost psychosomatically sending flashes of pain across her chest.

       “Do it… Now Bonnie!”  Tim orders as he lays that crop down, picks through a couple others on the tray.

       Before taking a step toward the dangling straps, looking up at them swaying from the ceiling, mouth dry as her lips slightly spread apart, she inhales deeply.  The concern, the humiliation on her face is obvious with the frightening thought of stripping naked in front of them, then the physical pain of her proud breasts being flogged.  But, somehow back in a corner of her mind, she realizes the physical pain’s not as much a concern to her as to the possible visible damage that one of those crops will leave behind, hopefully not permanently.

       Finally she almost mechanically obeys his command in cautious halting steps as she crosses the floor between them.  Her mind’s almost numb, willing herself to allow her body to be stripped naked in front of them, then to be bound, flogged.   Yet again in that same dark corner of her mind, she struggles with the thought that she really deserves her punishment, not for breaking her vow with them, but in breaking her vow with her husband.

       “Line her up… Strip her and cuff her wrists and ankles… Steven.”

       Gripping Bonnie’s wrist, a tug, a spin and a couple, three steps backwards and he has her in position, as ordered. 

       “Chris?… Char?… Want to give your brother a hand there?”  Tim mutters as he checks the feel of a couple more crops, switches.

       Christina quickly stepping on one side, Charlene on the other, Bonnie’s tan wool halter’s stripped off, her firm, symmetrical globes braless.  Her tan oval areolas spread flat,  the nubs of her nipples thick from rubbing against the wool material, her surprisingly large, firm breasts barely sway as her arms are lifted, her wrists cuffed, spread upward above her head.  Unsnapping her black wool skirt, sliding it down over her hips, her bare flawless flesh glistens, totally exposed.  No panties, no stockings, her sandals removed, just her bald pubic mound barely sloping outward above her spreading thighs as the sister’s cuff, tug her ankles apart.

       Momentarily stepping back, Bonnie’s left under the shackles alone.  The room’s quiet as she’s finally completely naked in front of them.  Her dark hair tightly wrapped behind her head, her dark eyes glancing downward toward the floor between her global breasts, her washboard stomach gently rippling on her near perfect hour-glass form.  Tautly stretched in a spread-eagled position, her face, just a hint of makeup, flushed, her separated breasts jaunts outward, nipples hard and pointing apart, ready to be disciplined.

       Steven breaks the silence, approaches her, stuffing a rather smallish bright red ball gag into her mouth as he stands behind her snapping the black strap beneath her braid of hair fashioned above the back of her reddening neck.  “Just to help squelch your screams Bonnie… It’s going to hurt… A lot!”

       Sliding his hands palms inward down against her sides, the curves of her hips, he reaches back up, cups her bare breasts as her stomach quivers, her abs flex beneath her navel.  Pressing his trousers against her bare buttocks as he manipulates her breasts, agitates her puckering nipples, feeling her firm rump press against his thighs, he whispers in her ear.  “I see why Tom still likes to fuck you… We’ll just have to make it hard for you to let him…. Okay?”

       Barely nodding her head as she feels him step back from her, trembling, jaws already aching, practically chocking, even on the smallish ball gag almost loose in her mouth, she watches the others approaching, surrounding her.  Her face flushed, hot, the humiliation unrelenting, she closes her eyes as she lets them see her, feel her, discuss her total nakedness, tell each other, her, how she’s going to be punished.

       Stripped, secured, ready to be flogged, the sisters and their brother collectively take their time stepping around her, the women obviously enjoying the moment as well as the men as for the next couple minutes their hands roam across her bare flesh under the pretense of checking the tension of the stretching bindings.  Cupping her breasts, sliding their fingers, thumbs across her tan, flattened areolas, nipples, spreading her freshly shaven labia, exposing the nub of her clitoris, slipping their hands across the rounded cheeks of her buttocks, they work her naked body, explore her curves, her crevasses as Tim chooses his first implement for her.

       Standing by the tray, he picks out the same slim, willowy bamboo cane, decides to use it first.  Less then three feet in length, the tip narrow enough to bow, he flicks it back and forth, the swishing sound almost a whistle in the silence.  Stepping in front of Bonnie’s tautly stretched body, nodding toward the women to step back as he slides his left forearm tightly up under her bare breasts, he nods toward Steven.  “Stand behind her Steven… Spread her breasts out for me… Spread ‘em apart… Wide apart so I get a good aim at those nice dark nipples.”

       Following his instructions, reaching around and under her up stretched shoulders, Steven palms, grips both globes, squeezing as he separates, forcing her areolas, nipples to spread, the tanned ovals to swell as they lay fully exposed across Tim’s forearm.  “Okay?”

       Holding the stock of the cane in his right hand, Tim mutters.  “That’s good, yea… Squeeze a little tighter… Puff those nipples out… Perfect!... Hold them right there!”

       Staring directly into Bonnie’s widening eyes, he quietly asks.  “Ready Bonnie?... Ready to feel this cane across those titties?... Now I want you to watch… Don’t take your eyes away or I’ll have to do it again… Understand?”  Sensing barely a nod, a muffled grunt, he glances toward Steven.

       Okay then… Ready Steven?... Now let go… Watch your hands!”  Flicking the cane back and forth, he lets it curl into an arc, slicing inward directly in front of, then into the targeted left breast.  “Swish… Thwack!”

       “Oh my God!”  Bonnie gruffly grunts through the gag as the cane slashes into her tit flesh, glances off, leaving a crisp red welt horizontally across her outthrust globe, her shriveling nipple as she lurches forward in the ropes.  “Ooohhh!”  Blinking her eyes, the pain searing through her breast, she tries to block the pain, surreally accept the beginning of her penitence as her teary eyes focus on the instantly rising red welt.

       “You’ve not kept your word, Bonnie.”  Tim scolds as he glances down toward the cane ominously again positioned just a few inches from the center of her other breast, being squeezed, resting securely on his forearm.  “You know you have to be punished… Don’t you?”

       Barely a nod, glancing toward the cane as she can feel the heartbeat in her breast awaiting the release of the cane’s tip again, she mutters, barely audible through the gag.  “Ye… Yes… I’m sorry!... I’m sorry!”

       “Swish… Thwack!”  The curling tip of the cane flicks forward, snaps across the bud of her other nipple, the bamboo burrowing into her flattening breast as Steven leans against her, forces her forward, arching her back, thrusting her breasts outward across Tim’s arm.

       “Aaaggghhh!”  The rasping screech emits from the ball gag, her head jerking, instant tears welling from her darting eyes as the instant welt is traced with tiny dark splotches, the willowy cane almost breaking the flesh as she forces herself to focus on that welt.

       “Now.”  He begins to speak to her in a soft, gentle tone as he again lifts his forearm up under her breasts pushing her bruised nipples even higher as they peek out over his arm.  Aligning the tip of the cane with her left areola again, he gives it’s nipple a couple gentle taps as he continues.  “I think the only way to make sure you keep your word with Christina, Charlene… Is to make sure you don’t want him to see you naked… To have to explain these welts I’m administering to your tits.”

       “Swish… Thwack!... And your ass!”

        “Oomph!”  A guttural groan’s emitted from the mouth gag as Bonnie twists, the cane’s imprint standing out barely above the first welt on her left breast, streaking across her flattened areola as she reflexively tilts her head forward, glares down through her instant tears toward her flogged breasts.

       “Swish… Thwack!... And your pussy!”

       “Ooohhhh!!!”

       “Swish… Thwack!... And anywhere else!”

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!... Damn… Damn it to Hell!!!”  She curses through the gag.    

       “Swish… Thwack!............ Swish… Thwack!............ Swish… Thwack!!!”

       “Uuuummmmppphhh!!!... God!!!... God!!!!... No more!…. Stop!…. Please….  Oh… Please Stop!!!!”  Grunts, screams, pleadings emit from the ball gag as Bonnie twists her naked body, jerks her chest back and forth as her breasts flail across his forearm, the cane slashing across her bare breasts, her swelling nipples as she struggles through the pain, tries to accept it.

       Stopping, holding the cane down toward his side, lowering his forearm, Tim lets her welted breasts drop, bounce, gently sway off her heaving chest, the half dozen or so welts evenly distributed across her firm globes glistening under the ceiling light directly above her stretched body as her tears drip off her chin, across her bare, striped chest.

       “Wipe her breasts down Christina.”  He nods as he lays the cane on the tray.  “Then rub some lotion across her butt cheeks too... They’re next.”

       A white cloth, some alcohol from a plastic container, Christina swipes Bonnie’s tortured breasts back and forth, swabbing under, over, across her raw, bruised nipples while also pressing against the crisscrossing welts scoring both globes.

       “Ohhh!… Ohhh God!…. That hurts!… Oh… My…… God!!!”  Bonnie’s head jerks back as she mutters through the gag, feels the alcohol rubbing, soaking into her raw flesh.  “Aaaggghhh!... That burns… That burns!!!”

       “Oh hold still!… You brought this on yourself… It’s all your fault!”  Charlene scolds as she steps next to Christina, grips Bonnie’s chin in the palm of her hand as she continues.  “Quit whining… Your punishment’s just begun Bonnie!”  Leaning around, smacking Bonnie’s rump with the palm of her free hand, she smirks.  “Your Butt’s next!”  Glancing toward her brother, turning toward Tim as she continues to grip her chin in her fist, she asks.  “We… You going to… To flog her between her legs too… You know... So he can’t do her… You know… Whip her… Her thing too?”

       “You mean her twat… Cunt… Pussy… What?”  Tim chuckles… Yeh… I think she needs her pussy flogged too.”  He smiles.  “We’ll whip it good and hard so it stays swollen for awhile…. That way she might want it, but won’t be able to have sex for awhile… With anyone!... I guarantee that!”

       “Hear that?”  Charlene grins, virtually face to face with Bonnie as she squeezes her chin, her cheeks just a little firmer, harsher.  “You hear that?... We’re going to burn up your… Your pussy up, too Bonnie!... That’ll work for me!... How ‘bout you?”

       Twisting her head back and forth, her arms, legs tautly stretching in their bindings, her naked body past glistening, heavily perspiring as the searing alcohol from the soaked clothe streaks across, drips off from her bare flesh onto the floor between her spread feet as she tiptoes.  Stretching as she can only grunt through the saliva soaked ball gag, her drool slings down from the gag, clinging to her shimmering breasts.

       Picking through, choosing what could possibly be a leather barber’s strap from the tray, folding it evenly and snapping it through the air, Tim steps behind Bonnie, motions for Christina and Charlene to position themselves to either side of her.  “Hold her hips back… I want a good shot at those round rumps!”  He sarcastically orders.  “I think maybe a half dozen before we center our attention between her legs.”

       Charlene, standing to Bonnie’s left, presses her left hand across Bonnie’s navel, her right hand down across her thigh just below the fold of her butt cheek as Christina’s open palm slips across Bonnie’s pubic mound, her fingers of her other hand sliding against her sister’s just below Bonnie’s buttocks.

       “Ready?”  Tim asks, the tan strap dangling, swaying back and forth as he centers himself, glances toward Steven, nods toward Bonnie.  “Steven… Grip her tits again… Hold her tight.”

       Stepping in front of Bonnie, palming both glistening, welted breasts, twisting, squeezing, Steven holds firm as he spreads his legs, his shoes scuffing against her bare ankles, braces himself.  “Ready!”

       Encircled by the group, her breasts, buttocks firmly griped, Bonnie glares straight ahead through her watering eyes, over Steven’s shoulder toward the stairwell as she braces herself.  “Thwack!”

       Jerking, barely moving in the others tight grips, she virtually bites the gag as she grunts. “Oomph!”

       Stepping back a step, inspecting the long, wide five inch wide welt almost horizontal across her thrust out rump, he again slowly positions himself, this time slightly to the left.

       The strap flexes, elongates as he flicks his forearm.   Twirling through the air, flattening against, sinking into the bare flesh of her right butt cheek, the flat leather’s smacking sound resonates throughout the room. “Thwack!”

       “Aaaggghhh!!”  Another grunt, higher pitched as Bonnie’s head jerks forward, her chin pressing against her sternum between Steven’s gripping fists tugging at her bulging breasts as her hips flex, the ropes binding her spread limbs creaking, twisting.

       Another quick inspection, another wide welt appears at a slightly tilted angle overlapping the first stroke on her right buttock.

       “Grip tighter.”  He almost quietly orders, glancing individually from one to the other as he lets the strap sway back and forth beside his right calf.  “Grip whatever you can to hold her still… Whatever you want to use to hold her by.”

       Glancing toward one another, sharing smirks, Charlene slides her left hand downward, pressing her palm into Bonnie’s inner thigh, letting her thumb jam inward until the tip disappears inside her spread slit.  Following suite, Christina slips a hand across Bonnie’s backside, rams her thumb upward, past the puckered rim of Bonnie’s rectum.

       Hoarse, muffled grunts mix with Bonnie’s saliva as Steve joins in, lessens the tension, grips firmer and harshly twists her shimmering globes, watches the swollen nipples bulge even more.     

         “Okay… Ready?”  Tim asks as he aligns himself in front of Bonnie, her toes barely touching the floor.  “Let’s nail her pretty good here… Then it’s on to her cunt!”

       “Thwack!... Thwack… Thwack…………Thwack!!!”   Three quick, crisp lashings, followed hesitantly by a forth.  Backhanded, forehanded, another forehand, finished with another backhand as Bonnie’s body quivers, twists as she’s held tight by her breasts, orifices.

       “Aaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhh!”  A seemingly endless shriek, guttural, hoarse echoes across the room as the trio holds her firm while Tim flexes the strap back and forth, steps over to the tray as he quips.  “Okay… Let her go for a few minutes… Take a break for awhile… Let her think about what’s coming next, huh Bonnie?”

       Releasing Bonnie’s breasts, watching them bounce, sway in front of her arched chest, Steven steps back as his sisters also slide their hands away, their finger, thumb slipping out from between her twitching thighs.  The trio steps over toward the tray, Tim.  Letting her hang spread-eagled in her restraints, the balls of her feet resting on the floor as moisture beads, streaks down off her bruised bare flesh while the foursome head for the steps together, down to the kitchen.

       Watching them descending the stairs, her stretched body aches, her wrists, ankles chaffing in the leather cuffs as the group leaves her sight.  Glancing down across her bare breasts, toward the stinging red welts, her swollen nipples, the alcohol’s remnants still burn as it mixes with her perspiration.  The welts aren’t as harsh as she thought they could be, she thinks to herself, hopefully just a few days of bruising before disappearing altogether.  Left alone for awhile, the warmth from her back side isn’t quite as painful, the wide strap lashed across her butt more forgiving then the cane slashed across her boobs.  Her real concern now is what’s next, what she’s going to be punished with between her legs, her shaven vagina when they come back upstairs to continue.

       Minutes pass, even longer as she occasionally hears them downstairs.  Wondering when they’re coming back up, realizing that even more severe pain’s still in store for her, still in a way she almost wishes they’ll hurry up, get it over with. The aches, pains becoming more of a discomfort as her arms seem to becoming partially numb, the burning sensations passed, the sting of the flogging more a dull ache as she again thinks about her punishment, dwells on the atonement for her indiscretions.

       Glancing again down toward her welts, knowing she’ll have more between her thighs, she still can’t help worrying about going home, concealing her body for the next few days, its bruises, welts for at least a few days, maybe even a week or more.  Trying to think of ways to insure her deception, to hide the unexplainable, the metal anguish seems even more painful then the physical abuse being heaped on her.  She’s forced herself to believe she deserves the pain, yet how to conceal it from the very person she’s receiving it for, for deceiving him gnaws at her.  Closing her eyes, trying to breathe, she lets her body go limp; gently sway under her taut arms as she listens for the footsteps on the stairs, tries to let her mind go blank.

       More minutes pass, the quietness of the room surrounding her as she barely sways back and forth, the feeling now completely gone from her arms.  Feeling her drool dripping across her breasts, her chest, she tries to wipe her chin on her shoulders as she hears the footsteps, their voices.  Opening he eyes, staring toward the stairs, she silently watches as each finally enters the room in single file.

       “Get her ready.”  She hears Tim’s voice as he steps behind her, watches as Christina and Charlene step toward her, each with a vial of salve.

       Feeling their hands sliding between her thighs as they kneel in front, behind her, her body reflexively jerks before trembling, quivering as their fingers spread the cold lotion into the crease of her buttocks up to her pubic mound.  Their fingers spreading, massaging, manipulating her sensitive flesh between her legs, she feels her labia folds stretched apart, her vagina, rectum probed front and rear, fingers sliding in and out as the salve mounts, builds between her thighs, is packed deep inside her orifices.

       Biting into the ball gag, chewing, gnawing on it  as her body responds to what amounts to her being masturbated, she begins to grunt, her hips begin to flex.  Staring downward between her breasts, toward her hardening nipples jiggling, on down at the kneeling sisters working her, she feels her face continuing to flush as the familiar stirring deep inside her womb becomes obvious with her reflexive tremors.  The pleasure overriding her pain; she struggles to block the sensations.  Biting the gag, clinching her fingernails into her palms, she centers on that pain as her thighs tremble, jerk.  Just as her stomach’s tremors become a steady ripple, the sister’s finish, and step back.

       Her body tingling, twitching, she tenses as she hears a click, senses a flash, another click, another flash.  Glancing across her shoulder, at Steven with a camera in his hand, stepping around, in front of her, snapping, snapping, she reflexively jerks her head away.  Twisting as she realizes she’s being photographed, she grunts through the gag, glares over at Tim, the sisters.

       “Just a record of your little discipline session Bonnie!”  Christina smiles.  “Something to help you keep your promises to us in the future.”

       “Yes Bonnie.”  Tim smiles as he steps in front of her, an ominous dark leather riding crop in his right hand as he kneels, spreads her labia folds apart with his thumb, index finger.  “There’ll be more when we get done flogging that tight little wet pussy of yours with this!”  Flipping his wrist, the crop slices forward.  “Thwack!”

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!”   Shrieking though her ball-gag, the searing pain jolting like an electrical shock through her womb, she bucks in her restraints as the crop’s tip borrows into her exposed clit.

       “Thwack!”

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”

       “Thwack!”

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!”

       Back and forth, the crop slices across one labia fold; the other as he releases his fingers, backhands the crop between her spread thighs.

       “Swish…Thwack!... Swish…Thwack!... Swish…Thwack!... Swish…Thwack!... Swish…Thwack!!!”

       “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!”

       One long constant shriek as Bonnie’s naked body flails in her restraints, the sound of the crop resonating in her mind as the concussion of the leather biting into her vagina ripples throughout her stretched body.

       “Thwack!”

       “Gaaaaaaaddddddd!!!!”

       One final slash, a harsh, vicious slash, directly across her battered clit, one last pitiful yelp as she goes limp, Tim stands, drops the crop on the tray.  Glancing down at his handiwork, toward the already swollen, purplish flesh of her vulva, he turns toward Christina.  “Go ahead, coat a glob of salve down there, she needs it.”  Turning toward Charlene, he adds.  “Take the gag from her mouth.”  Turning toward Steven, he nods.  “Pictures first, after her gags removed.”

       A few more clicks, flashes of the digital camera after Charlene slips the gag out from Bonnie’s slobbering mouth and Christina begins swabbing a palm of salve between Bonnie’s quivering thighs, across the warmth of her swollen, discolored vagina.

       “Well.”  Tim smiles.  “She won’t be fucking for awhile… That’s for sure… We made certain of that!”  Stepping in front of Bonnie, snapping a capsule, whiffing it back and forth beneath her nostrils, he glances into her blinking, reddened eyes as her head jerks.

       “All done… For now Bonnie… In a couple minutes you’ll be uncuffed and you can dress so Chris can take you home… Okay?”  Holding her chin in the palm of his hand, leaning across, again glancing into her hazed eyes, he asks again.  “Okay?”  Getting a slow, painful nod and he drops his hand, lets her head slump forward between her bruised breasts.  Watching as Christina finishes up, letting Steven help with the cuffs, Bonnie’s unshackled, assisted to a chair in the corner.

       Barely able to walk, bent over, she squats, barely groans with each obviously painful step as she keeps her knees spread apart.  Feeling herself wiped down with a couple terrycloth towels, her skirt, halter slipped back across her aching, bruised flesh, the sandals slipped back onto her feet, she finds herself still in a daze as she’s led down the stairs, Steven in front, Tim in the rear.  Fighting back tears, the pain excruciating between her thighs, yet the anguish of the thoughts of the consequences of the photographs already haunting her, she realizes the depth of despair she’s allowed herself to be led too.

       Led outside to Christina’s car, the mist more now a steady shower, her bare shoulders glisten as she’s turned to set back across the car seat.  Legs lifted inward, she’s left to slump back in the seat with her arms almost limp at her sides, her hands resting palms up on the seat cover.  Christina sliding into the driver’s seat, shutting her door, leans over toward Bonnie.

       “Ready to go home… Girl?”  She asks as Tim stands beside the open door, Steven, Charlene behind him.  “Want to see some pictures first?”  Glancing toward her brother, reaching for the camera, she holds it in front of Bonnie’s swollen eyes.

       Flicking its buttons, the vision of Bonnie’s naked spread-eagled body flicks by, picture after picture of her, close-ups of her breasts, her vagina, the expressions on her face.  Handing the digital camera back to Steven, she nudges Bonnie’s shoulder.  “He’ll have you some copies made for your scrape book too… Okay?... And by the way… Let me run this past you… Just to stay on the safe side… I think we’ll make this a weekly event … Maybe if you’re good all week… Before your discipline session… Maybe one of these guys here will fuck you if you want!... Or maybe we can use a nice dildo on you instead… I know that’s okay with you… Isn’t it!... Bonnie… I said isn’t it?... Damn girl… There’s all kind of possibilities now!... Isn’t there?... Shit… You just might learn to use every hole you’ve got there on all of us with enough practice!”

       Staring straight ahead into the rain across the windshield, Christina on one side of her, the others looking in the open door on her other, obeying, slowly nodding her head, a tear streaks down her cheek.  The door shutting, the car started, backed out of the drive into the rain pattering across the gaslight street, Bonnie watches numbly through the swiping wiper blades into the darkness, fighting back tears, suppressing the disgusting thoughts of her future.

End Part 1