The Whipping Girl

Act 2-Pain

Chapter 14-Raison d’etre

He decided to savor his treasure. He could not stand the thought of losing control in front of the cunt again. Even tied up and helpless, she had overcome his will and coerced him into succumbing to his rage. He still had to find out why she was here in the first place. He hadn’t been able to finish questioning her yet. He waited and watched her on the camera.

Her wrists were still cuffed behind her back but the rest of her was unfettered. She managed to get to her feet and was exploring her new boundaries. She found the dog bowls in one corner and stared at them curiously for a moment. She also found the toilet sitting isolated against the wall, seemingly out of place, along with a plastic container full of wet wipes that were probably dried out by now. He hadn’t needed them since his grandparents passed and had forgotten they were in there. She used the bathroom with some difficulty due to her awkward hand placement. She struggled to clean herself, and eventually pulled off an awkward-looking maneuver that placed her hands close enough to their destination to wipe.

After relieving herself, she started walking around again. She looked at the lock mechanism on the cage door for a long time, but realized she had no hope of doing anything with it while her hands were cuffed behind her. She kept looking down at the raw, blistering brand mark on her thigh then bursting into fresh cascades of tears. Her self-pity eventually morphed into rage, and she repeatedly kicked the wall with one leg. He sympathized with her until he realized that she wasn’t just fruitlessly venting her anger, but rather practicing the kick so she would be able to maintain her balance without her hands. He chuckled.

When she felt that she could pull it off consistently, she resumed her nervous pacing around the large cage’s perimeter. There were no windows in the cage, and three of its sides were formed from the solid walls of the basement. The fourth was a single panel of bars with a single locked door offset toward the right wall. The bars were welded to the walls seamlessly. She even managed a closer look at the ceiling by climbing the cage bars. It was quite a sight to watch her pull that feat off. She turned to face away from the bars where they were attached to the wall and grabbed on with her cuffed hands. She braced herself as she lifted a single foot and blindly felt for the crossbar. When she had her footing, she slowly lifted herself onto the cross bar by inching her hands up the bars. She wobbled there uncertainly for a moment, then very slowly repeated the procedure to get up to the second crossbar. Finally, she was high enough that her head touched the ceiling, and she used it to push all around the area, evidently hoping it was a drop ceiling made from loose fitted panels. She was disappointed to meet house-like resistance with her head, but continued peering around the area for a few minutes, looking for any inspiration, before she carefully began sliding back down the cage wall. She lost her footing and her grip on the second step down and ended up sprawled on her knees and face in a pose reminiscent of one from Puppy’s elaborate dance.

After the fall she didn’t do anything else of interest for a long time, mostly crying and shouting. He stopped paying her camera much attention, only glancing over occasionally to stroke himself while he thought about the victory spoils that he would soon enjoy.

Angel’s ride pulled up and he saw her rush into the house. He didn’t find her on any of his cameras, but could just barely hear her movements from one of the mics. She had just come into the dining room and onto camera when Sabrina’s Mustang pulled into the drive.

By the time Sabrina was into the house and unloaded of all of her work trappings, Angel had popped the cork on a bottle of wine and had soft music playing over the PA system. She was carrying wine goblets and fruit out into the fragrant yard, which was finally free of the skunky smell of weed. The sun was still playing peek-a-boo with the clouds that rested on the horizon, casting long purple and pink-hued shadows across the yard like a Thomas Kinkade painting. He could hear frogs in the stream calling out to one another in the late spring warmth, trying desperately to find that special someone to get slimy with. The women settled into the swing against the far fence, but he could clearly hear every word of their following conversation thanks to the new audio system.

“What’s the occasion?” asked Sabrina curiously. Angel happily thrust a goblet of expensive wine into her hand and clinked her own glass against it, then upended it in one enthusiastic gulp.

Angel let Sabrina wonder while she refilled her glass, then pulled her phone out of her pocket and played his message. It sounded perfect. The horn's blast occurred right in the middle of her line about having to go because the ship was leaving. When the recording replayed Kali’s voice saying “Enjoy your vacation away from me...” Sabrina said “Oh, we will!” exuberantly.

“Well, I’ll certainly drink to two weeks without Kali around! No one to drive away my clients, or leave incriminating drugs on my porch, or give us dirty looks every time we touch each other for two whole weeks!” Sabrina sighed happily.

“Maybe longer,” said Angel, wistfully. “You heard her, maybe she will fall in love with some dark-skinned Caribbean prince who will take her off my hands for a lifetime. Still, she was pretty helpful in setting up for the parties. It looks like she already did most of the work for this week, but she won’t be here tomorrow or next weekend to help you. Will you be alright?” Angel asked her, concerned.

“I think I can manage. I know someone who might be willing to help me out with it tomorrow if I ask her just right.” Sabrina said with a wink.

“Tenshi, I presume?” asked Angel in a would-be nonchalant voice that failed to hide her jealousy.

“Yea,” said Sabrina, completely missing or ignoring the tense note. “I think she might enjoy being put to work, and it will give me a chance to repair the damage Kali caused yesterday before Sumiko cancels her performance tomorrow. Two birds with one stone and limited time, you know?”

“So it’s just a business thing, then?” asked Angel, while busying her hands and eyes with the wine again.

“And what a business thing,” started Sabrina excitedly. “Not only is the most prestigious club owner in town sending me a flood of rich and eager women, she is also giving lessons to my customers about rope work and safety. I am so sure it will move my entire stock of rope that I’ve already put in the replacement orders.” After that, Sabrina was lost in her own money-grubbing schemes, leaving Angel to idly run a delicate finger over her goblet's rim, eliciting a heavenly note that emanated from the sweet wine to drown out Sabrina’s avarice.

After a few more glasses of wine, they started heavily petting one another, but to his extreme disappointment they decided to go inside to Sabrina’s bed for the night.

He switched his gaze back to the cage camera to watch Kali propping herself up in a corner, trying to find a semblance of comfort for the night. He decided to share her loving family’s reaction with her to see what sort of response it provoked.

He migrated to the basement with his iPad and a hot plate full of dinner. He sauntered down the steps slowly, letting the echo of every boot fall fade out before taking the next step. He wanted his entrance to affect her, and it seemed that it was. She struggled to her feet hurriedly to stand aggressively close to the cage door in such a way that she would get a clear shot at him if he was stupid enough to open it without thinking first.

He cleared the stairs and slowly brought a chair over to sit near the cage, dragging it loudly across the floor for dramatic effect. She didn’t speak, just stared at him like a cat watching a stalking dog at the base of the tree. He casually sat down and slowly ate his dinner, watching her watch him. He enjoyed the building tension, and could see the nervousness start to affect her. She began shaking after a few minutes, tears threatening to spill from her eyes soundlessly. Still, neither spoke. She had finally wised up enough to learn that every time she opened that cunt mouth of hers she brought trouble down on herself. About halfway through his meal, he feigned boredom and turned to his iPad for entertainment. He selected the footage he had just captured of Angel and Sabrina’s reaction to Kali’s message and started it playing. He turned the volume up all the way so she would hear everything clearly, even the clink of their wine glasses as they toasted the good fortune of her absence. When it finished he played it again, and again, and again, enjoying the pained look of betrayal that crossed the slut’s face every time she heard her sister’s voice cheering her departure.

After he finished his meal, he calmly walked over to the laundry sink to slowly and meticulously scrub the plate and silverware clean, dragging out the chore until the water ran cold. He discreetly tucked the blade of the heavy silver butter knife into his pocket and walked over to the cage door. She tensed and looked like she was readying for him. Pretending not to notice, he gave her a threatening look and told her to back up. She complied, but where she moved to was still within kicking range.

He suppressed his anticipatory smile and unlocked the cage door carefully. He gave it a push to open it so his hands would be free for her surprise attack. Right on cue her foot came flying at him and he deftly caught her ankle in both hands and lifted it as high as her leg would go, making her hop on the other foot to hold herself upright. He could no longer suppress a grin at his own cleverness, and even let slip a few moments of sincerely mirthful laughter, which seemed to frighten her more than the hate-filled whipping she had received at his hand. He was delighted to see that she had kicked out with her branded leg, and he gave the blistering symbol a hard smack with the flat of his hand. That made her shriek in pain, which was the first sound she had made since he had entered. He basked in this small victory.

He was pleased to feel that the butter knife in his pocket retained the frigidity of the rinse water. He gave the leg another little tug upward and twisted the ankle to make her rebalance with her legs parted a little further. He held her firmly with one hand while he used the butt of the cold metal knife to invade her vacuous depths. She twisted and hopped to try to get away, or at least protect her well-used cunt from the wintery intrusion. He roughly probed her loose pussy with the knife, using it like a lever to gauge how wide the hole opened. She let out pain-filled moans and yelps from his rough examination.

“You’ve certainly been put through your paces whore,” he said casually, as though he were checking out a prized horse for sale. “Do you buy all that pot you smoke with your pussy?”

He returned to his probing and let the question hang for a full minute before he gave her a sharp reminder of his power over her with a second open handed crack against her brand.

“I asked you a question,” he said calmly. “I expect you to answer me.”

Still she didn’t answer at first, but bit her lip while tears welled up in her eyes again. A third smack brought the sobs bursting out of her, and when they were through, her shaking answer.

“No sir. Sabrina pays me to clean the yard, sir,” she said in a flat voice that sounded well-rehearsed.

He was thrown off his game for a moment. He already knew Sabrina funded her drug habit to keep her as cheap labor, but he hadn’t expected the style of her response. He tried another question, letting the knife slide out of her, forgotten.

“Why were you trespassing in my house tonight, cunt?” he used the most menacing voice he could muster, but it did not seem to have an effect on her response, which was given in the same flat tone.

“I found the microphone you hid in our yard, sir. I came over to confront you about it, sir,” she confessed readily.

“Did you tell anyone else about it?” he would watch the tapes to confirm her story later, but with the way she was always snooping around the yard, he guessed this was probably the truth.

“No, sir.”

“Why didn’t you just call the cops?” Any smart person would have immediately called the authorities rather than going over to the potentially dangerous suspect’s house to confront them. Even Kali wasn’t really that stupid, was she?

“I…I…I wanted an excuse to talk to you again, sir.” He let her wallow in her own stupidity for a moment.

“And, pray tell, why did you want to talk to me again?”

She swallowed hard, but eventually said, “I felt safe talking to you, sir. I thought that you were the first person that actually seem interested in who I was and not just having sex with me, sir.”

Then he burst out laughing. It was a mean, mocking laugh that made Kali cringe.

“You thought I was some lonely, shut-in virgin or something, didn’t you? Someone you could coerce into fucking you so you could exploit me for my weakness?” he accused.

“No, sir. I just needed a friend, sir,” she sobbed.

“Is that why you were dry humping my grandmother’s chair and throwing come fuck me looks all over my dining room?” he demanded harshly.

She looked stung and shameful. “It is what guys expect from me, sir. It is the only way to get a man to look at me, sir.”

He hadn’t expected such a candid response. He suddenly felt silly standing there holding her ankle while she continuously hopped on her other leg, now panting with the exertion. He threw her to the floor where Kippers' doggy bed was and backed up a pace to see if she would try and retaliate. She did not, but rather gathered herself up into the bed and tucked her traitorous legs underneath her, leaving the painful looking brand enticingly exposed. He stared at her for a long moment, unable to solve this new puzzle of her behavior. He had expected a feisty, go fuck yourself attitude, and had almost sketched out an entire module of behavior modification through punishment to fix that in his fantasies. He had been looking forward to it, actually. Finally he would have a focal point for his fury that truly deserved it, even needed it. But now he felt somehow deflated. One badly planned outburst and now this docile, respectful attitude. Was she just trying to mess with his head? Deprive him of enjoying his spoils?

“Why do you call me sir?” he asked suspiciously.

“It is a sign of respect, sir,” she answered stupidly. Did she really think he was so dense that he didn’t know what sir meant? He kicked her thigh with his booted foot, sure that he would be able to enjoy the bruise from it later.

“Try again, whore,” he commanded, feeling a surge of power course through him from the blow. He hoped her next answer was just as stupid so he could kick her again in the same spot.

“I have been taught to be respectful to men, sir,” she answered carefully.

“Taught?” he was intrigued, thinking of Sumiko’s training program. “Who taught you?”

“My father, sir,” she confessed in that flat, obedient voice, but at the word ‘father’ a hint of anger slipped though. He might not have recognized it if he were not so familiar with the symptoms of unbridled fury. He remembered Angel’s confession about her father’s abuse of her when she was just a young girl. There seemed to be more to their perverted dad than he knew. He wondered if Angel had gone through the same thing.

“Did your father teach Angel also?” he asked, his voice betraying his tender concern for his beloved.

“No, sir. Angel was his ‘good girl’ and in his eyes she could do no wrong, sir. He never punished her for anything, whether she deserved it or not, sir. He never even fucked her, though he obviously wanted to, sir.”

He was so relieved to hear it that he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Oh, thank God,” automatically rushed out on the breath.

“Did she know? Did she have to see you fucking her father?” he asked, worried that it may have affected her even if it wasn’t directed against her.

“Yes, she knew, sir. She always knew, sir. She liked to watch him beat me, sir. At first he tried to hide it from her, but she kept sneaking in to watch him take me, sir. So he stopped hiding it, sir.” Kali recited this in a flat voice, as though she were reading some bad smut story from the internet rather than revealing her own intimate secrets.

“What else did daddy teach you?” he asked, fishing for a clearer picture of Angel’s upbringing.

“He taught me to obey her and protect her, sir. I was taught to be Angel’s slave, sir,” and in that one line Angel’s whole life opened up to him like a book and he felt he finally knew her, understood her better than anyone else in her life. He even knew more about her than her own sister, who apparently wasn’t aware of the bedroom scene between Angel and her father. Angel loomed in his mind like a vision, and his love for her struck him like an earth-shattering epiphany. He needed to know every detail of her life, her movements, her thoughts.

He looked down at the pathetic slut as she huddled in the filthy dog bed, and he smiled.

Chapter 15-Transgressions

Friday dawned with a spectacularly multihued sky that laced every cloud with pink and gold to provide contrast for a perfect blue gradient that faded its way across the heavens. Birds were competing for best, loudest, and longest song all at once in the trees. The heat had already kicked on full blast even before the sun changed out of its fluffy white pajamas and really got to work scorching the land. He lightly pranced down the steps and made himself a full special breakfast, even taking the time to make his eggs and bacon into a smiley face like his mother had done for him as a babe. When he finished his fine meal and was happily sated, he mixed up some plain oatmeal and let it sit out on the counter for a while to chill while he fed Kippers. He felt bad for Kippers, but thought it prudent to chain him to the deck in order to prevent any more nosy neighbors from paying him a visit. It was a long chain made of thick links that spanned most of the yard, but did not quite allow Kippers to reach any of the fences. He cleared the yard of as many obstacles that could tangle up the chain as he could, and saved a particularly long, flexible stick for later. Kippers got an extra long coat brushing, complete with ear and tail scratches, as an apology for the cruel treatment. He was still at it when Angel left in Sabrina’s Mustang. Sabrina hadn’t yet emerged when he went inside, gathered some supplies from the bathroom and the bowl of nicely chilled oatmeal, and made his way downstairs to see how Kali had fared through the night. She was still sleeping, or at least pretending, when he came down. He loaded a video onto his iPad and then kicked the cage so hard that the iron bars rang from his steel toed boots. She stirred and struggled to her knees and said “Good morning, sir.”

“I have decided I don’t like sir. Call me master instead,” he directed arrogantly.

“Yes, master,” she replied in the same flat voice.

“Come over here and sit on the floor, I want you to watch a show with me before breakfast.”

She settled in as he had directed, looking neither curious nor frightened, simply blank.

He set up the video for them to watch together and pulled his cock out into his hand to stroke it while Kali watched herself climb into the hot tub with Blonde Spikes and Greaseball.

“Here, the temptress sheds her clothing to enflame their teenage passion. One of the young boys timidly confesses that he had never been with a woman before, and the whore ridicules him for his innocence. When she gets in, she cruelly rejects the vulnerable boy’s advances and throws herself into the arms of the richer boy.” He continued the narration cruelly, immensely enjoying her pain and shame. He came a few moments after Greaseball did, while she was standing naked pointing at the gate with her panties and self respect in tatters. He squirted his jizz all over her oatmeal, then slid it through the food slot.

“Eat it.” he commanded.

Kali stared at it and squeezed her eyes closed, then obediently knelt in front of the bowl and carefully balanced over it with her hands still cuffed behind her back. She reluctantly took a bite of the cold, semen-flavored mush and choked it down. She grimaced and balked after the first bite, gagging from the taste.

“If you eat every last oat in that bowl, I will let your arms free. I bet they are pretty sore and cramped by now,” he offered for incentive.

She steeled herself, her face went blank, and she closed her eyes tight. Slowly, very slowly, she ate the paste in front of her until the bowl was empty.

“Lick it clean like the bitch you are,” he commanded.

She complied wordlessly, her studded tongue flashing as it licked all around the inside of the bowl.

“Very good, little slut,” he said encouragingly, and for the first time she looked up at his face and into his eyes. He saw something in those shit brown eyes that he didn’t expect, gratitude.

“Thank you, master,” she said in that flat tone, but he thought that she really meant it.

This whore was still getting into his head, even when caged up, cuffed, and abused. He thought about what Sunflower had said about Sumiko. That she would beat the insolent Mary, but not her because she was too well behaved. He had expected and desired an insolent whore that he could feel justified in abusing. This obedient, whipped dog attitude was nice in a way - he did enjoy the feeling of power and control it gave him - but he would have preferred knowing that the attitude was a direct result of his guidance. His imagination hadn’t yet gone past the initial attitude training, and he felt at a loss for what to do with this obedient cum dumpster. He stared at her for a while, watching her fidget uncomfortably to try and get blood flowing into her hands.

“I made you a promise, and I suppose you would like me to keep it, huh?” he teased.

“Only if Master wishes, Master,” she responded automatically, even though she could not hide the discomfort.

“What if I don’t wish it?” he threatened.

“Then this girl’s hands will remain bound, Master,” she replied respectfully.

The way she said ‘this girl’ was interesting. More signs of her upbringing he supposed. He motioned for her to stand by the cage, far from the door and put her hands through the bars. He grabbed one wrist and held it firm, but it was boringly limp and unresisting. He held it for a moment, grinding the handcuff into her bones in what should have been a painful way, but she barely responded after the initial involuntary twitch. He unlocked the cuffs but didn’t release the wrist for a moment. She did not react except to let her loosed arm fall to her side. He examined her naked, dirty ass through the bars, and was pleased to note the bruise on her leg from his boot. Still holding her wrist, he reached his other hand through the cage and pinched the center of the bruise, thinking back to the scene he had witnessed of the key holder pinching the paddle welts on her maiden’s ass. Kali barely responded at all, which annoyed him. He released her in disgust, not sure if the feeling was directed at her or at himself.

He backed away from the cage and sat back down. Kali stayed where he left her, but moved her arms to get blood flow in them. He handed her the supplies from the bathroom, disinfectant, gauze, medical tape, and antibiotic ointment, and let her change the bandage he had inexpertly taped onto her last night. When she finished, he removed the supplies from her cage. He decided to test her to see whether her obedience was just an act to bide her time until she could escape.

He walked into the cage and locked the door behind him, wary of an attack that did not come. She was still standing where he had left her, but had stopped flailing her arms about when he entered and was now mutely staring at the floor. He approached her, but she didn’t react. He stood close enough to press his body against her, trying to tempt her to attack him. She did not take the bait. He snaked his hands into her hair and pulled her to her knees, a move she executed as though they had practiced the scene together a thousand times. He dragged her around the cage by her hair for a while until he grew bored with it, then shoved her with such force that she lost her balance and collapsed, landing face-first on the floor. She quickly righted herself and waited on all fours for his next command. It reminded him again of Puppy’s ass in the air pose, and he directed Kali to get into that pose for him.

He stuck a booted toe in her cunt and wiggled it around for a minute, then gave her a sharp kick there to see if his boot would fit. It didn’t. He smacked her ass with his open hand and enjoyed the resulting crack that echoed through the basement. He spanked her again, harder this time, though the resulting thunderclap sounded muted compared to the first. He gave her three loud, hard spanks all in a row on the same spot, which was finally reddening at the abuse. His hand tingled nicely from the impacts. The white bandage against her dark skin drew his attention, and he gave it a hard tap that made her flinch. He gave her dozens of fast, hard smacks on the ass until his hands hurt too much to continue. When he finally stopped, her ass was the color of a rotten tomato.

His anger at her grew, and he fanned the flames of it by going through a mental checklist of all of Kali’s affronts against him. He pulled the long stick he had saved earlier into the cage to spare his burning hands. He stood straight up and walked around Kali, trailing the switch along the concrete behind him with an ominous scratching sound. After circling her twice, he came to rest standing on her hair, which held her face firmly against the dirty floor.

“First, your car is an eyesore in my nice neighborhood, covered in ugly graffiti, and it rattles like it desperately needs service” he accused, remembering his first glimpse at her stupid teen mentality. He brought the switch down hard, and delighted in the satisfying thwack it made when it connected with her back. The switch rebounded nicely and did not break from the force.

“Second, you ceaselessly pollute the entire neighborhood with that cacophony of tortured cats in a drum shop you listen to, and worse yet, you add your own off key screeching to the mix with no concern for anyone else.” He swung with his off hand, crossing the last lash to make a giant X across her back with red welts and scratches. The marks were barely visible in contrast to her darkened skin, though that would soon change.

“Third, you foul up the neighborhood with your stink. The smell of fresh flowers and sea air is overwhelmed by the skunk smell you carry around on you, and an overpowering smell of dead fish and rotting cum every time you open your whore legs.” He was particularly annoyed by her destroying the spring breeze that he waited all year to enjoy, and decided this was worth at least two of the hardest lashes he could muster. She sighed and gulped a fresh lungful of air.

“Fourth, You.” Thwack. “Moved.” Thwack. “My.” Thwack. “Bird feeder!” THWACK! The reminder of that seemingly mild offense was a surge of oxygen to the fire of his rage, and the memory that followed was the fuel.

“And tell me slut, why? Why did you have to put that piece of shit fucking podium Right Fucking THERE?” he screamed and lashed her furiously until his arm grew sore and her back was a lightly bleeding mess of scratches and welts.

His fury was escalating, and he was losing control again. This bitch always made him lose control. He had to take it back somehow. Beating her felt good for a moment, but didn’t seem to be getting quite the response he had hoped for. She was not fighting back, not sobbing uncontrollably, not begging for his mercy and forgiveness.

He contemplated his predicament while he watched her being boring. He had wanted to break her, but she was already broken. Hell, she was so broken that her pieces had been ground into a soft powder that no longer had the cohesion to resist. His wrath would not be appeased by her any more than it was by hitting soft pillows like his counselors had taught him. Again, she had taken away something he had excitedly coveted. He hit her again for that, but this time didn’t recite her offense, unwilling to give her even another ounce of power over him.

After he had been still for a moment, he could hear Kali speaking into the floor. He stepped back and yanked her head up by the hair to yell in her face, “I can’t hear your blabbering when your mouth is full of floor, whore. Speak clearly.” He was gratified to see that her eyes were wet, though she was not sobbing or gasping.

“Yes, Master,” she said clearly, but in that same soulless voice. “This girl moved the podium there so party guests would stand at the end of the runway, Master.”

It took him a second to realize she was answering the last question he had asked before going on a rampage with the switch. He felt deflated and wholly unsatisfied. She was a well-used whore, and her previous master was obviously better at it than he was. That could change, though.