CAMP XV

This is a simple tale of just one of a number of prison compounds, it being the consummative female labor camp for young women.  The particulars of the reason for this small, isolated camp, why and how the young women became inmates, the politics, the time frame and even the nationalities of the prisoners and administrators are all irrelevant to my story.  Suffice it to say it’s just a bunch of good looking late teen to mid twenty age women in an isolated part of the world held captive and subjected to painful and humiliating degradations by the villainous prison staff, the only male contact being the Commandant of the cluster of camps, who also determines at which camp the prisoners are incarcerated.  Lucky him, huh?  Who knows to what extent it will all lead… At this point, even I don’t. 

Chapter One Synopsis

An aborted escape attempt is dealt with.  According to the Commandant’s rules the camp’s inmates are assigned in groups of ten, responsible for their actions singularly and collectively.  As the pair of thwarted escapees pays the steepest price, the other eight members of their group that weren’t involved are punished on another level, with the rest of the compound yet on another.

Chapter One

       The torrent of rain beats down across the rustic metal roofs of the group of barracks in wavering sheets as the weather front pounds through.  The raw mid autumn weather quickly turning colder, the compound’s dirt and gravel grounds are transforming into a quagmire off its narrow stone pathways.  Bright searchlights crisscross, scan the electrified barbed-wire fencing from the flat rooftops of the open windowed wooden towers spaced evenly around the compound as the last signs of daylight from the already dreary day have faded hours ago behind the vast forest of trees to the west.

       Toward the far end of the grounds directly across from the couple of isolated administration buildings, one being the Captain’s single story quarters mounted on pylons by the rear gate, a separate fenced in yard stands out, lit up through the rain.  The discipline area, its barb-wired enclosed inside perimeters are dominated by a group of wooden crosses mounted in a large sweeping circle.  A like number of wooden racks and stocks are positioned inside the ring under the fixed rows of lights illuminating the entire pen.

       A good number of the apparatuses are occupied, mounted with the bodies of women prisoners tautly hanging or stretching in the weather, bare naked.  Pelted by the current cloudburst, the roped prisoners hanging from the crosses are soaked; their whip marred cold bare flesh glistening under the bright lights reflecting through the downpour.  A like number of women are tautly stretched on the racks, facing upward in the drenching pounding of the rain.  Also the recipients of the bullwhip, their reddened welts reflect the torrents of water draining off their prone naked bodies.  Exposed nude to the elements, this is just the initial day of their punishment, the second still awaiting them.

       Tolerating the night, at daybreak tomorrow they’ll each be bullwhipped another dozen lashes in front of the camp’s remaining prisoners who will be lined up in rows for roll call on the other side of the barbed wire.  Those prisoners also are receiving a lesser, but still uncomfortable camp discipline.  Stripped of all clothing for the duration of the camp’s punishment, they’re also forced to also face the elements naked.  Head count taken, formed into work gangs, half the prisoners will be paraded past the whipped women and led to the fields to harvest what’s left of the last of the crops, the other half to the production line inside the warehouse.

       Again at dusk the work gangs will be paraded in front of the disciplined women still hanging, still stretching, rain or shine.  Another head count as the returning prisoners are lined up, another bullwhip session in front of them for the unfortunates inside the pen before the work groups are released to their barracks.  Tonight though, the disciplined group in the pen struggles just to survive the dropping temperatures and torrents of rain along with the agony of their whipped naked bodies being stretched and exposed.

       Having just arrived at the camp after being officially notified of the escape attempts earlier in the day, the Commandant parts, glances out the bamboo curtained window of the wood framed headquarters.  The rain pattering across the corrugated metal roof, its rhythm mixes with the fire crackling behind the grate of the fireplace dominating the back wall as he imperturbably counts the women in the punishment zone barely visible through the slackening rain.  An even eight’s a good number to be punished in front of the rest of the prisoners, he thinks to himself.  Glancing back, turning toward the security standing to either side of the pair of traumatized prisoners kneeling drenched and naked in front of the aged wooden desk, he strolls to the Captain’s chair behind it, slips back into the stuffed leather as it reclines on a creaking swivel.

       He can sense the tenseness, the utter fear surrounding the black haired girl, close but not quite the same with the other, the brunette.  Her fear’s noticeable but with maybe just a hint of defiance, then again their nude bodies aren’t just trembling from the raw elements.  Glancing toward the pair of female guards in wet parkas, nodding back toward the Captain as she’s in the process of removing her wet coat, he asks.  “So… You found them just before dark?... They didn’t make it very far… Did they?... What, just a few hours?”

       Leaning back, rocking silently as the chair barely swivels he glances back and forth toward the pair of bound women bowing their heads in front of the desk.  Glancing back toward the Captain then down toward the naked brunette prisoner to his left, he leans forward sliding his arms across the desk, his hands shuffling through the loose papers, finds her file, her photograph.  Glancing her over, under the remnants of mud and grim he’s pleased, knowing that she’s someone he recently assigned just last week to the compound, young, defiant and quite beautiful, and just recently incarcerated.   The chair stops rocking as his stern voice orders.  “Turn her.”

       Reaching behind the bound brunette’s shoulders, gripping the strand of hemp rope binding her elbows tightly  together, lifting her up off the floor the Captain twists, turns her naked body a hundred and eighty degrees.  Youthful, ripe firm breasts swaying, larger then normal for her slender frame, actually quite a bit larger as the round globes stand out above the washboard appearance of her ribcage, her curvy hips twitch as her loosely bound ankles twist above her muddy feet on the hardwood floor.

       Her heart pounding, barely grunting while still glaring toward the fireplace through her matted hair she feels herself shivering, her bare breasts trembling.  Still soaked from her time in the pelting rain, the pain from the scrapes and bruises across her arms and legs from her romp through the brush and creeks are minor.  The wrapped strands of rope though, wet and shrinking burns as it digs into her elbows, forcing her bare breasts to remain jaunting obscenely outward in front of everybody.  

       Moisture crisscrossing her naked flesh drips across her bare feet as he takes in her backside.  Long athletic legs stretching upwards to her high rounded butt cheeks, the darkened slit between her thighs exposes just a hint of the puffy mounds of her labia.  With her shoulders arched back by the rope binding her elbows, the rounded curves of the outer portions of her jiggling breasts are quite visible from either side just beneath her broad shoulders, her back forming a ‘V’ down toward her slender waist.

       “All the way.”  The harsh order’s followed with a visual twist of the Commandant’s finger.

       Her elbows roughly jerked; again she feels her heavy breasts swaying as they spring from one side to the other.  Separating, smacking together as she’s harshly twisted the full circle, she’s again positioned to face the desk, toward the Commandant, the only man in the group.  Eyes still glaring, but lowered, she senses the goose-bumps covering most of her nude body, as glancing across her symmetrical globes her eyes catch both areolas, nipples standing embarrassingly out, hard as rocks, their tan surfaces glistening under the swaying overhead light.   Her hips forced outward by the Captain’s tight grip on the bindings behind her back, her quivering stomach repeatedly slopes inward, slants outward with each raspy breath. 

       “Not the worse for wear… Yet!”  The Commandant forebodingly smirks, enjoying the moment, the humiliation she’s obviously being forced to feel.  “Just a few bruises, scratches… Looks like the thunderstorm cleaned her up pretty good.”  Again he glances toward the Captain, their eyes momentarily locking, their pleasure with her obvious.

       “Okay… The other one… Completely around, same way.”  He orders with a nod, another twisting circle of his finger.

       Lifting, twisting her by her bound elbows, she also grunts as her short black hair mats to her forehead, neck.  Also drenched, slightly bruised, her flesh likewise covered with goose-bumps, her nipples stand thick off her heaving breasts as she makes her complete circle without stopping.  A quick survey of her naked body, hers nearly, but not quite a match for the brunette’s, he stands, glancing back and forth at both prisoners while sliding the chair back.

       “Take them back to the room… Unbind them, facing the wall.”  He quietly orders the pair of guards as he nods toward the door to his right.

       One guard gripping their arms leads them toward the door, the other swings it open, shuts it behind them as they walk through.

       “Let’s take a walk.”  He orders as he stands, slips the raincoat from the coat rack, slides it on.  Reaching for his riding crop, bending it between his hands before flicking it across his knee, he glances out the curtained window once again through the slackening rain.  Stepping out the door onto the covered porch, slipping the hood up over his head as he glances toward the Captain, he mutters.  “Good job… They’re perfect Cap!”  Taking a step toward the yard, he turns, adds.  “Temperature’s really dropping tonight... That’s the remainder of their group, huh?... Come on; let’s see what the rest of the best looking girls in the camp looks like now.”

       Dodging the now vacant wooden stocks on either side of the steps, also used as corner posts for the railings on the edge of the wooden platform, they step through the torrents of water streaking off the rough metal edges of the weathered porch roof.  Carefully stepping down the seven wooden steps to the flat stoned surface encompassing the first few feet in front of the quarters they walk briskly out into the dark wet weather toward the wire enclosed pen.  Feeling the chill of the steady breeze as the rain pelts across their covered heads and shoulders they quickly close in on the barbed-wire gate.  Swinging it open, stepping onto the submerged crushed gravel beneath their feet, past a couple vacant crosses toward the closest rack with a mounted, drenched prisoner quivering in her bindings, the Commandant continues to reflexively flick the already wet crop back and forth across his knee.

       Glancing across her young face, late teens at best, her tautly stretched body flexes in the straining ropes binding her wrists and ankles as her eyes stare pleadingly toward him.  Sliding the tip of his crop around the overflowing puddle of water in her hollowed belly button, again the sense of power over the girl is stimulating as he can feel her stomach twitching through the crop.  Gazing into her watery eyes, down toward her heaving chest, he watches the firm round mounds of her breasts being pelted by the rain, the cold water stiffening her puckered nipples.

       Eyes squinting as water bubbles from her mouth, her knowing grunts are barely audible above the constant pattering of rain across the wooden rack and her naked flesh as he slowly lifts the crop, flicks the length of it straight across her uplifted areolas one at a time.  “Swish… Thwack!......... Swish… Thwack!!”

       “Aaaggghhh!”  A gurgling grunt, water spewing from her lips, the corners of her mouth as the wet leather slices across her cold wet breasts.  Jerking, bouncing under the blow, red welts instantly rise across her cold, shriveled nipples as her body reflexively arches upwards.  Waiting a moment or so, tracing the welt across her left nipple with the end of the crop, forcing the tip into her flattening tit flesh, he holds the crop steady in his right hand as he reaches down, grips the tip with his left.  Flexing the crop slowly back into a semi-circle until it almost touches, releasing its tip, again the willowy leather snaps across her cold, bare breast, sinks into the reddened nipple.  “Thwack!”

       “Aaaggghhh!”  Another anguished cry resonates through the yard as her body bucks upward, her wet, welted breast searing from the springing crop.

       Glancing toward the Captain with the slightest of a smirk, a final glance at the girl’s welted breasts, he takes a step toward a cross baring another naked prisoner.  Ignoring the whimpering of the first girl as he glances over the hanging girl’s soaked body; his eyes focus directly level with her inverted navel.  Letting the crop slide up over her trembling calf, he slides its flexing tip ominously across her outer thigh, around and into her dripping vulva between her stretched legs.  Shoving and probing, he lets the leather bend, twist and finally flip into the wisp of hair circling her vagina as her loosely bound ankles scrape across the sides of the square wooden post as her roped arms lift, raise and drag her bare back against the flat wood.

       Glancing across her heaving breasts dripping water from their shimmering nipples, then on up into her exhausted but still pleading eyes, he momentarily holds the crop motionless before slowly twisting, revolving it around inside her moist slit.  Feeling her hips twitching, hearing her groans above the falling rain, slipping the crop back out from between her thighs, he flicks it briskly back and forth across her swaying breasts.  “Swish… Thwack!…… Swish… Thwack!”

       “Oomph!... Agghhhh!”  Her tortured backside jerking across the harshly hewn wood, her head tilting downward as water streaks down from off her face, down off her naked body, off her bobbing breasts, the welts instantly rise across her heaving globes, taut nipples.  “Swish… Thwack!...... Swish… Thwack!”  Another backhand, forehand as the supple crop flexes, springs across her jerking breasts yet again.  “Aaaggghhh!!”  Head twisted against the post, legs jerking, back arching, another couple welts streak across her nipples as the rain continues to pound across her battered chest, her limp body reflexively contorting from her outstretched arms.

       Glancing around the fenced in yard, stepping past that cross toward another mounted rack, his chest pounds with excitement as the rain drips off his hood, down over his face.  Glancing at the barely conscious prisoner stretching in its creaking ropes, he slides the crop between her large, flattening breasts as he forces them to separate, spread one at a time toward her armpits.  Her muscles, tendons outlined beneath her taut flesh flex as she repeatedly blinks through the raindrops, her hazed eyes swollen almost shut.  He can feel her welt covered  body trembling as he places a flat palm across her sternum, slides it down across her ribcage, down across her pubic mound, between her quivering thighs as the raindrops patter across her bare flesh.

       Glancing at the Captain, around toward the group of exhausted but equally terrified youthful women being pelted by the storm, he loudly rasps.  “We found the other two… We have them back in custody.”  Slowly turning toward each girl as he speaks, he rises, continuously flicks the tip of the riding crop across the prone girl’s bare breasts as he places his free hand across her mouth...  “Your punishment will still continue through tomorrow.”

       Glancing toward the Captain, smacking the girl’s breasts a little harsher, back and forth, back and forth in rhythm, still in a loud voice he continues.  “Each gets another dozen strokes in the morning in front of the rest… Just like I ordered when you contacted me yesterday… Understand?”

       “Yes Sir!”

       “Then a dozen more in the evening again?”  He continues, turning his head toward the tortured women for them all to hear as his flicks of the crop become even harsher across the flattening breasts being buried with bright red welts.

       Again nodding back, the Captain answers.  “Yes… Another dozen, Sir… As we do a head count with the other fifty prisoners.”

       “Then they’ll be rotated…  Correct?”  He again loudly asks, glancing off into the darkness surrounding the camp as he awaits the answer he already knows as he holds the crop upright.

       “Yes… Sir.”  Rack to cross… Cross to rack.”  The Captain advises.  “Then another day of the same before their punishment’s over… For now.”

       “Swish.”  A quick flick of the crop, the leather snaps between the prone prisoner’s legs. “Thwack!”  Sinking into her spread slit, his spread hand drowns out her muffled cries as her naked body jerks above the flat wood, the red welt raising across her wet, cold pubic mound.

       “Okay… Back inside.”  He orders as he grips the girl’s left breast, gives it a final smack as he stares around toward the other occupied crosses, racks.  Turning, walking toward the still open gate, the Captain follows behind him as the girl’s raspy cries echo in the pen.

       Retracing the wooden steps, slowly walking across the porch, slipping the hood down, the raincoat off, he hands it to the Captain as he glances back toward the pen, steps through the doorway.  “Let’s see if they’re ready… Hang our coats up and come on back.”  He quietly directs as he steps toward the fireplace, rubs his hands together.  “Getting brisk out there isn’t it?”

       “Yes Sir… Wet too… Might even see some sleet… Not a good night to be bound naked out there, huh?”

       Turning his back toward the fire, rubbing his hands together behind his back, the Commandant grins.  “Not a good night to be in that back room either… Especially if you’re those two… Now then… They must be best looking in the camp, aren’t they?”

       “Hand picked Sir… Just like you wanted…. That last one you sent me and the other… Also barely more then a kid… Big tits and nice ass though.”  The Captain elaborates as she also rubs her hands in front of the fire.  “The eight out there make up the best of the camp but the rest are all more then decent as you know, after all, you assigned them all here, this being the ‘chosen’ camp for the best looking younger women… This is where you’re known for sending only the most attractive… And young prisoners…  And, those two are certainly the crème de la crème.”

       Stepping beside the desk, picking up the receiver of the rotary phone, the Commandant’s finger patiently spins the dial in brief flicks.  Waiting a moment, then another, hearing the phone picked up on the other end, he asks.  “Doc?... How long?... Fifteen, twenty minutes?... Okay.”  Hanging up, glancing toward the Captain, he nods toward the door.  “She’ll be here soon… She knows her way in, come on…. And by the way… I’m sure you also appreciate the quality of the girls I send you!”

       Stepping past the desk to the door, the Captain swings it open, follows the Commandant toward the pair of prisoners.  Both still naked but unbound kneel spread eagled on the floor with their hands interlocked behind nape of their necks.  Their shoulders arched back, they focus on the wall just inches in front of their faces.  The Commandant and Captain are quickly attracted to the brunette’s torment as her nipples scrape across the wooden surface of the wall with practically every breath, her guard’s knee pressing against the small of her back.

       “So then, these are the two!”  The Commandant directs, more then asks as he steps behind the pair, between the guards as they step back in regards to the silent nod of his head.  “They’re why the rest of their group is out in the rain right now being punished huh?”  He adds as he glances toward the bruising rope marks circling their elbows, arms from the removed bindings.

       Sliding his still wet crop across the one’s shoulders, then the same slow tease with the other, he slowly paces back and forth behind the pair as he watches their naked bodies respond.  “Two days of beatings for the other eight.  Two days of the cross and the rack for the others in their group because of these two.”  He adds, just a little louder, sterner.  “Those eight punished in front of the entire camp of stripped naked prisoners for the indiscretions of these two.”

       Slipping the crop up into the brunette’s crotch to his left, letting the cold, wet leather slide back and forth between the folds of her labia, he watches her buttocks quiver, her shoulders arch as she unsuccessfully struggles to remain motionless.  Stepping behind the other girl, sliding the crop’s tip between her buttocks, he watches her naked body also tremble as a small pool of water spreads across the floor between her thighs.

       “The rest of your group out there knows we found you!”  He almost quietly speaks to the pair.  “As the rest of the prisoners know… They’re all being punished for your botched escapes.”  Leaning between them, pressing his palms forward between their shoulder blades, he flattens their breasts against the wall as he practically whispers in their ears.  “You’re both mine to do whatever I want with you, either of you two.”  Standing, glancing toward the pair of female guards, then toward the Captain, he exclaims.  “The Doc will be here any moment… It’s going to be an interesting… Long evening.”  Glancing toward the Captain and the couple guards, back toward the two girls, he orders. “Escort them to his lab next door.”

       Stepping between the kneeling girls, gripping their wrists as she jerks them to their feet, the Captain twists them around and leads them to the door.  The guards following, the girls are pulled down the rear steps into the rain, their naked bodies quickly soaked as they’re rushed the few feet between the buildings.  Keys in hand one of the guards unlocks the rear door, swings it open.  The Captain, her clothes also soaked drags the stumbling girls in behind her to a holding cell in the rear of the building, slams the bars behind them.

       “Wait with ‘em till the Doc gets here.”  She orders as she glances toward their raincoats, down across his own wet clothes.  “I’ll be back.”  Out the back door, shutting it behind him she practically jogs across to the Commandant’s quarters as the rain’s picked up again.  Heading for the fireplace, again briskly rubbing her hands together she hunches above the crackling flame.  Reaching out,  stirring it with the wrought iron poker leaning against the hearth, she turns toward the smiling Commandant leaning back in the swiveling chair slowly shaking his head back and forth, obviously glancing toward the twin hard mounds of her areolas, nipples pressing through her soaked shirt.

       “Think those tits are cold and wet… How’d you like to be one of those cunts out there all night, Cap?”  He grins.

       “No thanks… I wouldn’t even want to be in the guard towers tonight.”  She answers as she feels the heat of the flames soaking through her wet shirt, presses the palms of her hands flat across her damp breasts.  “You can help warm these up though if you like… Now what’s up with the pair next door?”

       Leaning toward the desk, glancing toward the phone, he answers.  “Doc will be here in a few minutes… She can keep an eye an occasional eye on the bitches outside between those girl’s workouts… Don’t want anyone in the pen to get frostbite, now do we?”

        Standing, stepping toward the fireplace, he turns her toward him while reaching his hands across her shirt.  Slipping his hands beneath hers, squeezing, melding her cold but firm breasts as she lets her hands slip down toward her sides, he continues.  “Got the camp thinking those big tittied bitches had a plan to escape when all you did was help set them up.”

         “Yes Sir… The guard got them separated apart from their work group and told them to go get the water bucket back in the jeep like they’d agreed.”  The Captain nods as she leans toward him, pushes her breasts forward, into his hands.  “They didn’t realize we’d be waiting for them on down the road when they ran out of gas.”

       “Yea… Just a few miles was it?”  The Commandant smirks as he slips his fingers, thumbs across the thick buds of her nipples, slightly twists.  “They thought the guard was actually going to help them get away, dumbasses… Thought they had her bribed… Didn’t think a thing about the jeep being nearly empty of gas huh?… Yea, a good lesson for the rest of the camp… They know the rules about escape attempts… Now they’ll know the consequences!”

       “Ye… Yes… The… The whole group gets punished.”  The Captain’s voice changing as it becomes just a little raspy, her hand at the same time sliding across the front of his crotch.  “Groups of ten… Liable for… For the actions of one… Just like your procedure orders.”  She mutters as she gently squeezes, tugs the swelling bulge beneath his trousers.

       “Or two.”  The Commandant smiles as his hips press forward.  “And those two are going to pay the price tonight!... Along with their uncomfortable group outside… And you’re going to help punish those two next door with me.”

       “Yes… Oh yes… Yes!”  She mutters as she feels one of his hands sliding off her breast, slipping between her flattened stomach and loose band of her wet trousers.  “Yes, I want to… To...”  She stammers as his fingertip slips between the tight folds surrounding her damp vagina.

       Footsteps on the porch, the knob turning on the door, the Commandant slips his hands from the Captain’s clothes, steps back a step as he feels one firm final squeeze across his crotch.  The door opening, the Doctor and another pair of guards step into the office, their parkas dripping.

       “Doc!... Good timing!”  The Commandant acknowledges her arrival as he steps toward his desk.

       “Yea… Yes I see!”  She smiles back as she glances toward the Captain’s partially unbuttoned shirt exposing the upper curves of her round globes as she begins buttoning it back up.  “Just in time.”  Glancing toward the guards, the Captain, back toward the Commandant, she adds.  “Where’s the two that’s going to be needing my services tonight?... I’ve already seen the pen’s half full.”

       “Next door… The back half of the building, behind your office in the holding cell.”  He answers.  “They’ll be tried, convicted and sentenced… Then the punishment begins, as soon as you’re ready.”

       “Ready!... Let’s go.”  The Doc answers, heading for the back door.

       Following her, the rest briskly trots in a single file from the rear of the building to the next.  Entering the doorway, spreading around the room, the door’s shut as the slumping pair of naked girls glance nervously toward the group from behind the bars.

       Stepping forward, pacing in front of the cell, the Doc glances the girls over.  Recognizing both, instantly realizing they’re a couple of the best looking in the compound, the brunette having just recently been assigned, she has more then a hunch what’s going on.  Glancing toward the Commandant, back toward the girls, she slowly nods.  “The punishment for attempted escape’s severe, isn’t it?”  Glancing into black haired girl’s pleading eyes, into the brunette’s, she adds.  “Better start with a thorough cavity search on them since they escaped… I’ll need to stretch their orifices… Reach in with my fists.”  Glancing back toward the Commandant, she asks.  “Who’s first… Which one gets strapped to the table first?... Her?”

       Nodding toward the brunette hunching down in the cell, her arms defiantly crossed, she glances back toward a guard as the cell door’s swung open.  The girl’s wrists gripped on both sides, she’s lifted from the floor, led with just a hint of a struggle from the cell into the next room.  Glancing at the remaining girl, she nods.  “You’re got a little wait.”

       Led into the examination room between the two guards, her arms twisted behind her back, the brunette senses the Doctor’s hand on her butt cheek as they’re followed by the Commandant and Captain.  Forced to sit, then straddle the narrow stainless steel table as she’s lowered on her back she feels herself bowing as the guards quickly spread, shackle her wrists and ankles to the far corners.  Glancing up toward the bright light glaring from its stainless steel casing, blinking, turning her head, she feels her arms, legs uncomfortably stretching, her naked body slowly arching upwards. 

       Having reached down beside the table, cranking a lever, the Doc slowly begins to adjust the controls.  The top and bottom half of the table beginning to spread smoothly apart, slowly forming an ‘X’ as the brunette’s arms and legs spread with it.  As her body stretches, the shackles gripping, tautly tugging at her extremities, the Doctor grips both hands on the wheel and firmly twists it another couple turns.

       “Oomph!... Agghhhh!”  The first real grunts escaping the brunette’s lips resonate across the room, the first of many to come as she feels the searing pain in her joints.  The leather shackles already tightly secured dig into her wrists and ankles as she feels her shoulders, butt barely scraping against the flat steel surface, her body slowly, painfully, embarrassingly stretching.  Biting her lip, twisting her head to the left she watches as the Doctor gives one more harsh twist, practically lifting her entire naked body from the metal slates, the spasms rippling across her tortured flesh.

       “Aaaggghhh!!”  A harsher groan as her fists tighten; her toes curl.  Struggling to fight off a scream as her naked body flexes, the stress mounts unbearably in her joints with her head twisting back and forth against the flat metal table.

       Stepping around the table, sliding her hand across the still wet flesh of the girl’s glistening body, the Doctor reaches under the table for another set of adjustments.  Slowly turning it with one hand, her other hand remaining on the girl’s flattening stomach; the table slowly begins to rise in the middle.

       “Aaaggghhh!”  Another loud grunt, almost a whine as the brunette feels her spread-eagled arms and legs slowly bowing backwards, her torso arching, lifting painfully upwards as the center of the table rises beneath the small of her back.  Another cranking of the wheel, her head slipping back into the opening in the table’s spread top, she feels her breasts spreading, flattening as she contorts into a semi-circle above the cold steel.  The bright light still glaring into her eyes, she reflexively squints, turns her head as the mounting pain sears through her body. 

       “Just about ready.”  The Doctor smiles as she retrieves a jar of gel.  “This is medicated... With alcohol.”  She adds as she swabs a glob on her right hand.  “Slip that gag in her mouth for now and let’s see what’s in there.”

       Standing beside the table, the Captain takes the cloth rag and stuffs it in the girl’s mouth as she lifts her head in her free hand.  Waiting, then sliding the palm of her left hand flat across her hollowed navel, the Doctor slips three fingers of her right into the spreading slit between the quivering thighs.  Sliding in and out first to her knuckles, then to the web of her thumb, she continues to probe as the girl’s hips reflexively jerk while her head hangs down back between her stretched shoulders.  Letting her thumbnail slip into the rim of the exposed rectum, squeezing the forth finger together with the others, she rocks her hand using her thumb for leverage as all four fingers disappear between her thighs.

       Her moans becoming constant from beneath the upper end of the table as she feels the Captain’s hands holding her head, momentarily pressing her face against her crotch as she’s forced to struggle for breath.  Abs glistening, rippling as her body jerks, straining her hips as the Doctor’s hand thrusts deeper, harsher between her thighs, she senses the surrounding group leering at her, at her naked body being obscenely probed as she’s spread-eagled naked on the table.

       The Commandant stepping closer rests his hand on the girl’s thrust out left breast as the nipple flattens between his fingertips.  Resting his other hand on a thigh he feels the tremors as the Doctor’s thumb plops free from the girl’s rectum and presses inward with her fist.  A couple forceful jabs, the grunting girl’s hips visibly flexing and he watches the Doctor’s hand disappearing to just below her stiffening wrist.  Another harsh jab and he continues to fascinatingly watch the hand squeezing completely in, well past the wrist.

       Glancing toward the Commandant, then the Captain, the Doctor gives a mock concerned look.  Twisting her wrist, probing a little deeper between the spasms of the girl’s trembling thighs she mutters.  “Let’s see what’s in there… See what we can find.”  Pumping, pumping, twisting, the Doctor’s arm slides back and forth between the jerking thighs.  Holding onto the flattening tit flesh, he can feel the pulsing of the girl’s heartbeat as her torso practically vibrates against the arched table, her grunts raspy as her vagina’s painfully probed.

       “Okay.”  The Doctor smiles as she momentarily hesitates.  “All clear… Now for her asshole.”

       Feeling the Doctor sliding, reversing her burrowing hand’s movement, the girl reflexively tries to squeeze, press her thighs together.  The Doc uses one hand, the Commandant another to stretch her hips even further apart as she grunts with pain, humiliation.  Twisting in her shackles she feels the Doctor’s cropped thumb and fingers ‘plop’ free, the suctioning audible above her muffled grunts.  Biting at the gag, keeping her eyes closed, she tries to ride out the humiliating examination, tolerate the pain.

       Her glistening hand free, slipping her index finger, then three fingers into the puckering rim of the tight rectum, spreading her fingers apart, slipping the forth finger in, the Doctor watches the girl’s body twisting, jerking above the arched table.  Jamming inward, twisting her fingers, she can feel the sphincter muscles tensing, contracting.

       “Oomph!!!... Oomph!!!”  Raspy grunts, her hips flexing, the brunette feels the stiff fingers digging into her puckered orifice.  Barely opening her eyes, the stark light blinding her, she squints, glancing between her twin mounds spreading apart, her stomach, navel arching upwards as the doctor’s hand grinds between her flexing thighs. “Aaaggghhh!”

       Reaching across the girl’s arched chest, gripping both breasts, the Commandant enthusiastically joins in, melding and  twisting the supple flesh between his fingertips as he watches the girl’s abs rippling while her pubic mound thrusts upwards from the Doctor’s prying fingers.  The moans, grunts are just garbled mutterings through the rag as the Captain presses the brunette’s face again across her trousers as the doctor continues her examination, now with all four of her fingers pressing inward, up to the web of her thumb.

       “That’s about it.”  The Doc mutters as she twists, rotates her hand back and forth.  “Any further, I’ll tear her apart… That’s a tight ass!”

       “Okay… Lift her head up.”  The Commandant orders while continuing to grip the girl’s breasts, giving a firm twist as he nods toward the doctor.  “Might as well slip that hand out.”

       His orders followed, the girl’s teary but still defiant eyes glance toward the Commandant as she feels the Doctor’s fingers slipping out from between her thighs.  Frustration, pain, humiliation all intermix as the shackles grind against her wrists and ankles, her spread hips trembling above the flat metal surface as the Captain rips the rag from her mouth.

       “Tomorrow morning… These are going to taste the cane in front of the compound’s inmates.”  The Commandant threatens as he taps her firm breasts with an index finger.  “And the next day they’ll feel the cane again!”  Turning to the Captain, he orders.  “Let’s get her back to the cell… Get the other one in here on the table.”   Slipping his hands away, he steps toward the door looking for a couple guards as the brunette’s unstrapped from her bindings.  Lifted, helped from the table, her knees weak, she’s led by guards on either side of her back to the holding cell to switch places with the other girl.

       Another inspection on the table after it’s adjusted to stretch the second girl’s naked body, another probing of her tight orifices by the Doctor with the Commandant and Captain looking on and after a few minutes, the black haired girl’s just as brutal examination’s done, but not her treatment.  Glancing toward the Doc, then the Captain as he straddles between the girl’s spread thighs the Commandant smiles as the Doc reaches down for him and unzips his trousers.  The Captain reaching over follows the lead as she grabs and slips his swelling shaft out and across the girl’s quivering pubic mound as she continues to struggle for breath.

       Ignoring the girl’s grunts, feeling the Captain’s fingers caressing, melding his scrotum with one hand as she slips her other hand gently back and forth across the foreskin of his swelling cock, he feels her forcing the thickening head of his shaft between the puffy folds of the girl’s  spreading labia as he rocks his hips forward.  Ramming his manhood deep between her jerking thighs in a single thrust, his throbbing cock stretches and tears at her tightly gripping vagina as the Captain slips her hand away.

       “Oomph!.... Oomph!... Oomph!... Oomph!... Oomph!!!”  The startled girl’s muffled, pleading groans echo in the room as she’s mounted, harshly pounded.  Feeling him thrusting in and out as his cock slams repeatedly between her trembling thighs, stretching, ripping at her pulsing vagina, her head twists, flails back and forth with each grunt.

       Another half dozen or so thrusts, feeling the Captain’s hand still manipulating his testicles, he reaches across, grips the girl’s trembling thighs.  Shoving, spreading them even wider apart, he watches her tautly spread body quivering, trembling as his cock pulses, his sperm exploding deep inside her womb.  His own legs twitching, his hips jerking, he feels the multiple ripples of his own orgasm as his throbbing shaft burrows, stretches her youthful orifice.  A moment’s rest, he steps back and lets his cock flip free before turning, carefully zipping up his trousers.

       Another couple minutes pass as her body trembles across the table, her stomach and breasts heaving with each rasping breath until she’s finally unshackled.  Leading her through the Doctor’s office in the front of the building, she’s barely able to walk as she’s taken directly onto the front porch, under the metal roof still taping out the sounds of the rain.  The vacant wooden punishment stocks on either side of its steps, she’s positioned by a couple of the guards with her back against one of the posts facing the compound.  Her arms raised, spread apart with her wrists and neck forced back into the open rounded slots, the top half of the stock’s shut down over her.  Her ankles tugged, spread apart and cuffed, her legs are spread so she’s forced to tiptoe on the rounded bottom rail, her naked body arched, bowed outward, pelted by the continuing downpour as she’s forced to stare upwards at the bottom of the corrugated porch roof.

       Hearing the commotion outside, the brunette waits, defiantly watches as the guards approach.  The cell door swinging open, she hunches over, legs crossed with just a hint of crimson glistening between her thighs, the palms of her hands cupping her breasts as she twists back against the wall.  Trying to remain rigid, she feels her arms gripped, twisted as she’s jerked upright.  Led out from the cage, she forces the guards to drag, carry her out onto the porch, to the remaining vacant stock.  Feeling her arms stretched and held spread-eagled against the bottom rail of the second stock as a couple more guards pitch in, her naked breasts and bare torso’s forced to thrust out into the still steady rain, the water dripping from the ends of the roof’s corrugated metal across her bare chest as her head’s forced back, the upper wooden rail of the stock slamming down, securing her neck and wrists.

       Frantically searching for the round mount on the bottom of the stock, her toes grip the wet wood as her naked body arches, her wrists and neck scrapping the harsh wood cutouts of the stock.  Glaring through her matted hair up toward the bottom of the metal porch roof, feeling the hands of a couple of the guards groping, pinching the bare flesh of her arched body exposed to the dripping rain runoff, she struggles not to chock, to let her feet slip off the bottom rail. 

       Watching out the parted, closed blinds from the warmth of the office, the Commandant finally steps out onto the porch.  Checking both girls, sliding his hands up and down their drenched torsos as the cold water constantly crisscrosses their naked flesh; he’s satisfied with their positioning.  Glancing from one to the other, watching them struggle to balance on the slippery rounded wood beneath their toes, he smirks.  “Better be careful, slip off your footing and you’ll choke yourselves.  Nodding toward the Doctor, the Captain, motioning them to come outside, he turns toward the foursome of guards and excuses them to their duties for the evening, mainly observing the other prisoners being punished in the night’s weather.

       As the rain briefly slackens, the temperature lowering, the Commandant and the Captain retreat to his office as the Doc strolls over to the enclosed pen.  Entering the warm, toasty room as the fire continues to crackle; he raises the blinds on the front windows giving a perfect view of the pair of stocks on the front porch and in their background, the wired pen lit up across the yard with the Doctor spot checking the unfortunate eight being punished in the elements.

       A few minutes, the Doctor swings the door open, enters as she slips off the soaked parka and hangs it on the hook next to the door.  Stepping toward the fireplace, rubbing her hands together, she glances toward the Commandant with a slow shake of her head.

       “Getting colder out there… Gonna be a rough night for them.”  She states, nodding toward the door, the windows.

       “Any chance any of ‘em can’t make it?”  He asks, rocking back in his chair, also glancing toward the windows.

       “No… Oh Hell no… Not at all.”  She answers, still slightly shaking her head.  “But they’ll literally freeze their asses off in that weather.”

       “They’ll get warmed back up in the morning… All of ‘em.”  He smirks, glancing toward the Captain.  “Won’t they?”

       “Yeh… The bullwhip tends to do that.”  The Captain nods back, glancing toward the front glass of the office, the rain again picking up, loudly pelting across the metal roof.  “I’ll warm ‘em up!”

       “Yea… The pair outside are in for a really long night too… But an even longer day tomorrow though.”  The Commandant quips.

       Not all that late, the evening to kill, the Commandant leans forward, stands in front of the swaying chair.  “Well, what you say we head for your bedroom, the three of us?”  He smiles as he steps toward the door to her living quarters.  Glancing back, sliding his hand on the knob, he nods as the door opens and he steps in.  The women barely hesitating follow him in, the Captain the last in shutting the door behind them.

End Part 1

        

       

       

       

         

        

       

         

                  

       

        

                       

CAMP XV

The night passing, a morning of punishment’s administered in front of the entire camp’s population while they’re exposed naked to the elements.  When all’s done, the brunette’s turn of individual treatment by the prison’s administrators become a reality.  

Chapter Two

       Daybreak, the weather front still passing, the temperature’s actually climbed a few degrees since midnight.  The early morning sun obstructed by the ominous cumulus clouds overhead, there’s a brief lull in the rain, a thick damp mist filling the air over the saturated grounds.  The wailing of the siren reverberates across the compound’s barbed wire perimeter as the doors are swung open to the small row of barracks by the compound’s guards, the prisoners hastily jostled out of the buildings.  More then a trot, hands behind their heads in their single files as they do every morning, their lone exception to the routine is of being naked, no clothes, no shoes, nothing.

       Trotted out through the muck of the compound’s parade ground to form their predetermined rows of groups of ten in front of the Captain’s complex, they quickly line up, stand at attention while ankle deep in mud.  The third row vacant, that of the group being punished, the rest keep their arms hoisted above their heads, hands interlocked behind their necks.  Standing at attention they silently stare straight ahead through the haze of the crisp morning air toward the pair of occupied stocks on the complex’s porch.  Cold and damp, their breath visible, the group’s bodies shimmer from the dew collecting across their naked flesh as they dare not to move, even as their soaking feet ripple the pools of water beneath them.

       The guards intermingling between the five rows of prisoners, posture and alertness are paramount to avoiding instant discipline.  The taste of the lash, especially on naked flesh in chilly, damp weather, possibly followed by a merit punishment witnessed by the entire prison camp after the workday has the defined rows of women well aware of the routine, and obediently adhering to the strict rules.

       The office’s door swinging open, the Captain with clipboard in hand’s followed by the Doctor as they step out onto the porch.  The Commandant, still inside watches out the window from his chair behind the desk, socks in hand.  Partially dressed, suspenders haphazardly strapped across his shirtless chest barely holding his trousers up while he’s recuperating from the past evening’s activities, he leans back in the desk’s chair to slip on his shoes.  Outside, stepping between the pair of mounted naked bodies obviously painfully straining in the stocks on either side of the steps, the Captain begins roll call as the Doc walks down the steps, past the rows of prisoners toward the barbed wire pen across the yard.

       A few minutes, an orderly roll call and the Doc returns, acknowledging the eight in the pen are still medically sound, just a little worse for wear even if in agony.  Glancing over the compound, making sure she has the individual attention of every prisoner, the Captain hands the clipboard to the Doctor.  Turning toward the sergeant of the guard, receiving a lethal looking black leather cat-o-nine tails, the Captain positions herself between the two stocks with the pair of exhausted women reversely shackled against them.  Again glancing over the yard, holding the lash upright she grips the short black hair of the prisoner mounted to her right.  Dragging the girl’s head even further back, scraping her neck in the stock, she glances into her agonized sleepless, swollen eyes.  Glancing around to the front of the stock, toward the girl’s bare torso arched outward, she lets the lash’s leather strands spread across the firm wet breasts barely swaying across her chest as her stomach ripples with each forced breath.  Tracing the flexing leather lower, the girl’s hollowing stomach quivers under her defined ribcage as a barely visible mist smolders across her naked flesh.

       “Ten across the tits and cunt shoved out there in front of the group.”  She threatens while raising the whip in her hand, letting the supple leather strands slide across the top of the stock, a couple strands dangling, again brushing across the prisoner’s thrust out breasts blocked from her sight by the stock’s horizontal wooden planks.  Staring across, toward the other stock, the brunette, the Captain adds in a louder tone.  “Same for you after I’m done over here… You count hers… Then she’ll count yours… Now you know the rules… You’ve seen it all before… Miss a count and it doesn’t count… If she whines, same results!... We can be here all day.”

       Glancing back toward the rows of cold, wet naked women, their shivers more then noticeable, she harshly orders in a loud voice.  “Arch and spread… Now!”  Collectively, almost instantaneously the women jerk to attention, their breasts thrusting outward in unison as their shoulders arch back, their legs spread apart in the splashing water.  “Maintain during the punishment!”  Her voice echoes across the yard as she slowly surveys the grounds, watching as the guards step between the rows while inspecting each woman, making sure their arms and shoulders are stretching and straining, their bare cunts fully exposed, accessible to the lash.  More then a couple flicks of the crops, the smacking of bare tit flesh combine with the lashing of spread thighs as the guards indiscriminately decide whose breasts are or aren’t thrust out enough, whose legs aren’t spread wide enough, until finally silence.

       Stepping down the first couple steps of the porch while the pair of exhausted prisoners glance frantically toward one another in the stocks, the Captain leisurely lines herself up with the arched out torso of the black haired girl.  Letting the tips of the twisting strands of leather scrape down across the step’s railing as she lets her arm drop down behind her back, briefly glancing back across the compound toward the lined up prisoners all obediently watching as the guards continue to step menacingly between them, she lunges forward with a grunt, her wrist flexing, her arm curling.  “Thwack!”

       “Oomph!”  The breath gushes from the girl’s lungs as the matted strands of twisting leather pounds across the naked flesh of her arched torso as her body jerks in the stocks.  Her breasts swaying, bouncing just above and out of touch of the flailing leather, the camp’s prisoner’s  can hear the muffled, not so defiant voice of the other girl from behind the horizontal slates of the other stock.  “One… That’s one!”

       Glancing toward the Doctor, back toward the crisscrossing red welts springing across the prisoner’s flexing torso stretching out from the stock, the Captain twists, backhands the flexing whip upward toward the firm globes, the cold hard nipples.  “Thwack!”

       “Agghhhh!”  More of a loud grunt then a groan with her next breath as both breasts flatten under the curling strands of leather.  “Two!”  Almost shouted from the brunette, her head tilted in the stock and watching wide eyed, now a tinge more of fear in her voice then defiance, obviously realizing that soon the same routine’s in store for her.

       A couple moments hesitation and the Captain takes another step down from the cover of the porch.  Reaching out with the whip, flexing it back and forth barely level with the prisoner’s waist, she feels the drops of rain, hears the echoes off the tin roof as it’s suddenly being pelted by thickening drops.  Flipping the whip upward, the wet leather slaps across bare flesh.  ”Thwack!” 

       “Umph!”  The snapping strands curl between the prisoner’s thighs, slashing between her spread legs directly across her exposed vagina lifting her straining body upwards.  More red welts across her quivering thighs, pubic mound as the rain begins to drip from the edge of the metal roof, splashing across, running down the front side of her bare torso.  “Three… Three!”  The voice behind the other stock, now harder to hear, muffled by the rain collecting across the roof.

       Again turning toward the compound’s yard, glancing out over the naked prisoners in their still neat crisp rows, the Captain watches the rain pelting down across their heads, shoulders as they know not to dare to alleviate their painful positions but to allow the rain to uninhibitedly splash across their naked bodies, their bare breasts.

       Glancing toward the incoming darkening clouds, nodding toward the uncoated guards, allowing them to break ranks with the prisoners, get shelter from the incoming downpour visibly approaching just outside the compound’s perimeter, the Captain’s the last to climb the steps behind them to stand under the metal porch roof.  A flash of lightning, the almost instantaneous clap of thunder, the rows of stark naked women left to the weather barely waver, obviously resisting their almost collective reflexive urges to cover themselves as they stare forward, toward the guards under their shelter from the rain.

       Staring back, watching the agonizing looks on face after face, row after row as their naked bodies are pounded in the sudden cloudburst, the Captain also glances past them, toward the enclosed pen, toward the various movements of naked bodies on the crosses, the racks.  Smiling to herself, enjoying the combined agony of virtually every single prisoner in the compound, she glances back through the door’s glass, at the Commandant staring back and obviously enjoying the view even more.

       Five, ten minutes pass as the cascading rain again comes down in sheets as it did the night before.  The deafening clatter across the metal roofs drowns out the whimpers; gasps of the camp’s group of prisoners as their ranks waver, still struggling to maintain their forced posture in the brutal elements.  Observing the overall situation, watching torrents of water from the sloped porch roof pouring down across the pair of mounted prisoner’s bodies in the stocks to either side of her, she again glances back toward the Commandant as he nods toward her and the Doctor at her side.   

       Stepping inside, along with the Doc, they follow the Commandant toward the desk as he sits behind it.  Glancing past the pair, out into the yard, he slowly rocks back and forth.  A moment of thought, he stops, leans forward.  “I’ve been thinking.”  He motions toward the outside.  “Might as well give each guard a whip and let them complete the punishment in the pen in unison.”  Standing, stepping toward the window, he continues.  “No need to rotate any of the cunts in this weather… Just beat them… Then get them inside.”

       “Okay.”  The Captain acknowledges.  “How about the pair out front?”

       “Just whip the shit out of the one you started with… Then solitary for her.”  He answers.  “I think we’ll spend the rest of the day letting the Doc here help us with the other… “Right there in her office with both of us… Okay?”

       Staring toward the Doctor, getting a positive response, he finishes.  “Then order the rest of the prisoners back into their barracks for the day…. After all it’s Sunday, it’s only a half day for them anyway.”

       “That’s generous.”  The Captain smirks.  “Giving them the whole day, huh?”

       “Well, it seems they’re all getting a good bath.”  He grins.  “For the rest of their punishment… Just keep them naked with no bedding until tomorrow before they get their clothes back too… Oh!... And be sure to let the rest of the ones in the pen be returned to their barracks too… Like I said… That’s after they’re whipped of course.”

       “Wow.”  The Doctor sarcastically smirks as she glances outside at the rows of drenched women wavering to maintain their ranks.  “You’re being really generous today… Aren’t you?”

       “I was last night too, huh?”  He chuckles before adding.  “Okay then, Captain … Get to work… Raincoats and whips for the guards… Let’s hear some pussies being whipped out there in that rain before they’re hoarded inside.”

       Heading out the door, the Captain shuts it behind her, the Commandant and Doctor casually watching through the glass as she approaches the sergeant with the group of guards huddling around on the porch.  Just a couple minutes, the appointed guards are entering the penned area, whips in hand as the Captain positions herself between the pair in the stocks.

       The sounds of the whips smacking across naked flesh along with the cries and shrieks of the punished women in the pen override the pattering sound of the metal roof above the office.  The guards with their whips can be seen deliberating around the crosses and racks, from one prisoner to the other as the remaining inmates in unison try to maintain their rigid ranks in the yard, staring forward in the downpour while hearing the turmoil behind them.

       The Captain, whip in hand again centers on her original target as she steps off the porch.  No parka, her uniform soaked in seconds, her braless breasts push against, stretch the virtually transparent material of her blouse as the silhouettes of her thick hard nipples flatten against the stretching material with her motion of each stroke of the whip.

       “Thwack… Thwack… Thwack!!”  A backhand, forehand followed by another forehand and the whip’s wet leather strands curls across, around the prisoner’s bare hips, then torso, and finally breasts in order.  Ignoring the other shackled prisoner’s babblings next to her, barely audible with the now down pouring rain, glancing back at the swaying, struggling ranks of the compound’s prisoners, the remaining guards pressing through their wavering lines, whips in hand to maintain order; she concentrates on flogging the drenched bare breasts swaying in front of her.

       “Thwack… Thwack… Thwack… Thwack!!”  Back and forth, back and forth all nine wet leather strands repeatedly tear into the red welted bare breasts jerking wildly in front of her.  Water splashing from the prisoner’s convulsing torso flicks from the curling leather strands as the Captain’s soaked blouse stretches, snaps a couple buttons allowing a bare breast to jerk back and forth between the lunges, fully exposed to the drenching rain.  Losing count, a dozen, even more lashings are delivered across the flailing breasts even as the prisoner’s battered body limply slumps forward, her feet slipping from the posts as her arms and neck stretch in the stock.     

       Inside, taking in the view of the punishment with the Doctor, the Commandant gruffly taps on the window glass, nods for the Captain.  “Enough!”  He rasps.  “Enough!”   Shrugging, again stepping over and sitting back in the desk’s chair while still taking in the outside view, he adds.  “I think that’s more then enough… Sometimes she can get carried away you know… Don’t want to permanently damage those young titties, do we?”  Turning toward the Doctor still standing at the door, he adds.  “Besides, I think it’s about time to bring the other girl in, don’t you?... Tell her to end the punishments… Go ahead and return all the prisoners to their barracks, including the eight in the pen… Do it now.”

       Nodding, steeping out onto the porch next to the Captain, she relays the order as she checks on the semiconscious girl in the stock.  A couple moments of the Captain huddling with her sergeant, the prisoners lining the wet grounds are soon being herded back toward their barracks as guards in the discipline area have also begun to unshackle those unfortunates.  Unshackling the black haired girl from the stock, the Doctor and Captain grip her by the arms and half lead, half drag her through the Doctor’s office to the holding cell, leaving the brunette alone in the other stock.

       The camp locked down in a manner of minutes, the yard vacant except for the patrolling guards, the brunette’s the only one left, still in the stocks.  Finally administered to, taken into the examination room of the doctor’s office she’s barely able to move on her own.  Her arms and legs virtually numb from the hours of being stretched, she’s laid on an examination apparatus face up.   Arms hoisted above her head, her legs spread, her wrists and ankles are shackled to the four corners without a struggle.

       Barely conscious, she feels her wrists, ankles cuffed and stretched outwards, spread-eagled as her naked body’s practically numb from the overnight exposure and the sporadic downbursts of rain.  Being shackled to the stock all night, witnessing the lashing of her friend, physically and mentally she’s drained, exhausted.  A bright light suddenly illuminated above the table, twisting her head, squinting, she tries to block the brilliant glare from her eyes.  Hearing the stirring around her, the hands manipulating her naked body, she almost resigns herself to whatever’s going to happen… Almost.      

       An eye mask strapped tightly across her face, a hard ‘O’ ring slipped in her mouth stretching her lips apart, a strap harshly fastened across her forehead and secured beneath her head and she finds herself virtually immobile.  Feeling her left ear, right ear plugged, stuffed with gauze, most of her senses are rendered useless.

          Her office full of the necessary equipment and supplies, the Doctor collects the various instruments and items needed for the next few hours.  The Commandant and Captain the only others in the locked room after dismissing the guards, standing beside the table they’re ready to start with the naked body strapped down in front of them.

       “Let’s shave her first.”  The Doc offers as she wheels the tray full of supplies next to the table.  “From the neck down… Everything… So she’s ready for what she’s facing today.”  She continues as she mixes the whitish foam, pours it across the girl’s still damp body

       Spreading, covering her arms, legs, between her thighs, across her pubic mound, she lathers, lets the soapy froth cling across the glistening flesh.  Reaching on the tray, picking up the old but sharp barber’s straight razor, unfolding it, giving it a couple crisp whisks across the leather strap hanging off the edge of the tray, she holds the edge up toward the light.  Gleaming as she twists it back and forth in her hand, she leans over the table.  “Wipe as I shave.”

       White towel in hand, the Captain steps to the other side of the girl’s prone body, places her free hand across the edge of the table.  Flicking, spreading, letting the razor glide through the foam, the Doc effortlessly shaves the naked flesh, cutting through the foam, leaving rows of smooth, glistening flesh.  Swiping, wiping with the towel, the Captain keeps the blade clean, the bare flesh exposed.

       Feeling the warm foam covering her bare flesh, the cold steel scraping back and forth across her torso, between her thighs, the girl strains to remain motionless.  Feeling the razor circling her breasts, sliding around her nipples, she’s almost certain what’s being done.  Sensing fingers probing her naked flesh, the blade practically crisscrossing her entire body from her neck down to her ankles, she feels her flesh quivering uncontrollably under the working metal blade.

       More alert, her sense of being touched more acute, she feels her chest pounding as the cold blade scrapes across her vulva.  She feels fingers manipulating, tugging at the folds of her labia, the blade briskly scraping across, around one, then the other as her own hands reflexively flex, her toes curl.  Fingers spreading her butt cheeks apart, her hips hoisted upwards, she feels the blade sliding back and forth between her buttocks, across the rim of her rectum.  Holding her breath, anticipating being cut, sliced at any moment, the fear resonates, builds in the pit of her stomach as the uncertain touch of the blade antagonizes her naked flesh.

       Continuing to shave, to step toward the head of the table, scraping across the armpits, the forearms, the Doc expertly handles the razor.  Momentarily stopping, another couple swipes across the leather strap and she squeezes the base of a breast and lifts, again scrapes the sharp tip across the girl’s bulging areola, circles the nipple as the blade glides crisply back and forth.  Releasing that globe, watching it bounce, gently sway, she grips and squeezes the other.  Lifting up, swiping the razor back and forth, she lets the glistening blade circle that nipple.  A couple flicks followed by a complete circle and the tip of the cold steel barely nips the nub.  “Oops!”

       Watching the Doc’s almost blithe movements, the Captain and Commandant concentrate, infatuated with the glistening blade, the sight of a slight tinge of blood oozing from the thickening nipple as the Doc continues.  Watching the girl’s quivering flesh, her reflexive twitches escalating as the razor continues to dance across her bare globe, around the nicked nub, they can only imagine what she must be thinking as her breast’s released, sways across her chest.

       The Doc not hesitating, gliding the razor across the girl’s supple, rippling flesh the blade scrapes downward on the naked body, across, around the flexing navel, again gliding back and forth across the girl’s pubic mound, down between her thighs, circling her spread vagina as the Doc slips her index finger into the moist tunnel, letting the blade glide around it.

       Glancing toward the towel following her hand, the Doc raises the razor, closes and drops it on the tray in her constant, smooth motion.  “All done… Smooth as a baby’s butt.”  She smirks as she picks up a second towel, swipes it back and forth across the girl’s freshly shaven torso, across and between her thighs and legs, finally dabbing at the trickle of blood of the nicked nipple.  “Those scrapes from her trip through the woods were all superficial.”  She quips, running her fingers over the barely discolored marks left from the scratches.  “Well, she’s ready.”

End Part Two  

        

CAMP XV

The brunette receives her punishment

Chapter Three

       The brunette prisoner strapped face up on the table, the other curled in the holding cell in the back room, the trio of officials has the administration building to themselves for the remainder of the Commandant’s stay.  A day of experimentation, mixed with some torture of the pair of girls, of course all in the name of discipline for their attempted escape and he’ll spend one last night in the sack with the Doc and Captain before his journey back to headquarters.

       Stepping back into the rear of the building to the holding cell, a couple buckets of cold water’s collected by the Captain.  A full cup of alcohol, another of salt for each bucket mixed by the Doctor and the door to the cell is opened.  The huddled girl twists, ducks in the corner as the first bucket’s contents are tossed, splashed across her bare flesh.  A harsh yelp as the mixture soaks her shoulders; her back as she hunkers down even further vainly trying to shield herself from the burning solution across her raw flesh.

       Stepping briskly through the barred door, gripping her wrists, dragging her to the center of the cell the Commandant spins, twists her around to face the Doctor, the next bucket already poised in her hand.  Stretching the shivering girl’s arms back and apart, pressing his knee against the small of her back he forces her torso to arch forward, her whip marred bare torso fully exposed, arched out as the second over-flowing bucket’s splashed across her bruised wounds by the Doctor.

       “Aaaggghhh!”  Twisting, weakly struggling as the water splashes across her bare flesh, pours off her thrust out, battered breasts, pools under her on the wet wooden floor, her continuous whimpers are drowned out by the rain still pounding across the metal roof in waves.

       Stepping inside the cell herself and kneeling, the Doc runs her hands down off the whimpering girl’s shoulders, chest, continuing downward between her spreading thighs as the Commandant continues his tight grip on her spread arms, bowing them further back as his knee’s still in the small of her back, her head hanging down between her uplifted, stretching breasts.  Her drenched, matted hair sticking to her face as she coughs, gags from the foul tasting water she feels the fingernails tracing across her burning wounds.  Checking the whip marks, her bruised, reddened flesh, gripping, squeezing one firm globe, the other, the Doctor stands as she gives a pinch to a cold, bare nipple.

       “All superficial… Hardly broke the skin anywhere.”  She unassumingly advises.  “Leave her here while we spend a couple hours with her friend out front in the other room and we can come back for her; she’ll be ready for another round of discipline by then…. Maybe give that pussy of hers a serious workout next time!”

       Just an affirmative nod by the Commandant, a quick jerk of the knee, letting her wrists slip from his opening fists and he unsympathetically watches the girl fall across the floor face down, huddling into a tight ball with her arms crossing her bruised, aching breasts.  Lying in the corner, shivering, whimpering as the cell door slams shut, she’s left to herself as the threesome step back into the Doctor’s quarters.  Hearing them leaving the room, shutting the door behind them, she huddles herself into a fetal position, wet, cold and shivering.   She can only imagine what’s in store for her next as she closes her eyes, listens to the rain pounding the metal roof as she huddles even tighter into a ball across the wet floor.

       Out front in the other room, able to sense the vibrations across the wooden floor of the footsteps approaching, circling her, yet unable to hear the whimpering of the other girl as she was being attended to, the brunette’s naked body remains virtually immobile as she lays spread-eagled, arched face up on the gurney type table, not knowing what to expect next.  Her entire body aching from the sexual assaults, the bindings, the mouth gag, her bare flesh tingles from the fresh shaving.  Fully alert, she can feel her heart pounding in her chest, her body quivering as the anxiety mounts.

       Surrounding the table, the three look down across her, touching, feeling the bare flesh of the young girl.  Her substantial firm breasts standing upright, barely rising before lowering with each breath of her strapped down body, each the size of a of a ripe melon, just a trickle of blood oozes from the tip of a nicked nipple across its smooth tan areola.  Her spread vagina freshly shaven, fully exposed below the supple mound of her pubic area, the moist folds of her labia hardly conceal the nub of her clitoris peaking out from her parted thighs.  Her lithe body stretched flat across the table, each rib’s defined, her flexing stomach sloping inward beneath her ribcage hollowing with each breath, the inverted navel quivering.

       The three circling the table, glancing toward the tray of implements close to the table, the Doc sorts through some of the loose items, picks out what appears to be in order of a thick oversized rubber band.  Stretching it between the fingers of both hands, reaching across the girl’s torso, she glances toward the Captain, quietly instructs as she glances back toward the girl’s breasts.   “Squeeze her tit… Right there at the base.”

       Leaning across the table and gripping a breast, squeezing, tugging upwards, the Captain assists, watching as the Doc slips the band down past the swelling nipple, down across the discoloring globe, letting it snap shut just above her hand.

       “Oomph!”  The obvious stinging pain of the band snapping together around her manipulated globe, the girl yelps through the ‘O’ ring stretching her lips.

       “That’s one.”  The Doc smiles toward the other two as she reaches for another band.  “Grip that other tit… Same way.”

       Another band, again spread around the other breast, the Doc stretches it even further apart, just to add to the sting before she lets it snap shut, burying itself into the firm youthful flesh.

       “Ooomph!!”  An even louder squeal from the ‘O’ ring as the girl’s naked body visibly arches upward in her restraints, her fingers flexing into fists as her toes curl on both her trembling feet cuffed to the bottom end of the table.

       Resting the palm of her hand on the girl’s stomach, the Doc watches the pair of discoloring breasts forming symmetrical circles, round globes, bobbing back and forth across the girl’s heaving chest.  Glancing toward the Commandant, she backhands, forehands one, then the other, watching as the bouncing globes continues to swell even as they turn a dull shade of purple, smacking together with each backhand.

       “Let’s give the nipples some attention.”  She smirks, as she searches on the tray, picks out a long nosed silver tool, finds and fastens a small ‘O’ ring type band across its tip.  “Pinch a nipple… Tug it out.”  She orders as she slides the instrument across the girl’s ballooning breast.  Again the Captain joins in, tugs a nipple between her nails.  Lifting it toward the stretching ‘O’ ring, a little manipulation, alignment and the small band’s snapped into the sides of the nub.

       “Aaagghhh!”  A muffled guttural sound emits from her mouth gag as she uncontrollably lurches upward in her restraints.  Feeling the searing pain like an electrical jolt resonating from the tip of her burning breast, her screams are garbled from her stretched mouth while her breast pounds, bulges, her engorging nipple pulsing with each painful heartbeat.  Terrified in her darkness, her mind races as she can only feel the pain from unexpected parts of he body.

       Glancing toward the appreciative pair of onlookers, the Doc picks out another small elastic band, adjusts it on the tip of the instrument.  Nodding toward the Captain, toward the crimson tinged nipple, she holds the band over that breast.  Lowering, aligning, letting it stretch around that pinched nub, she releases it.

       “Aaaaaggggggghhhh!... Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!... Aaaaaggghhhhhh!!!”  Repeated screams through the ‘O’ ring mixed with spewing saliva as both breasts bounce, sway above the girl’s heaving torso.  The band digging into, burrowing into the sensitive flesh virtually disappears from sight as the engorged nipple instantly swells around it.

       Circling the table, watching the painful bucking gyrations of the girl’s tortured body, the ballooning, discolored breasts flailing about, the three are equally pleased with her reactions. Giving her a couple minutes to settle down, watching her jerking body slow to just a few twitches, her breasts have become ever firmer, darker in the bands burrowing deeper and deeper into the bases of her tit flesh as the Doc selects several more larger bands from the tray.

       Slipping one across, around the left globe, wrapping it two, finally three complete loops, she lets the ends snap from her fingers, leaving that breast elongated, standing straight upright.  A matching band, the same amount of loops and the other breast jaunts upward, the nipple swollen, engorged and dark.   Both breasts forming darkening funnels, the bands slowly sinking out of sight, the Doc cups both, twists, tugs as the girl’s back arches up from the table.

       “Uuummmph…. Uuuummmppphh!!!”  Continuous moans, grunts echo in the room with each sadistic manipulation, each twist of her naked breasts as she struggles with the pain, the pain she can’t see or hear being inflicted as her body stretches out spread-eagled in her tortured Hell.  The searing pain in her breasts overwhelming, feeling her clit again pinched, she braces as the cool metal of the instrument in the Doc’s hands slides between her thighs.  The shocking, jolting pain sears through her womb as she feels the elastic band snapping around, into the nub of her clit.  “Aaaaaaggggghhhhh!”

       Watching as the band’s released, burrows into the girl’s clit, the three again step back a step, watch the gyrating body lifting, slamming back down before twisting, lifting again as the bands dig into her sensitive flesh.  The guttural screams becoming hoarse, raw unintelligible grunts, her nipples, even her clit almost a deep shade of a bruising purple swell in the tiny elastic bands as the Doc again sorts through the tray.  Picking out a cellophane packaged syringe, tearing it open, letting the needle slide between her fingers, all four inches, she flips it upright, lets the pointed tip tap across the bud of the girl’s left nipple.

       Watching it barely sink downward by its own weight, the razor sharp tip barely engulfed by the engorged nub of the girl’s nipple, the Doc smiles toward the Commandant.   Holding the needle upright, flicking her thumb downward from her index finger, she drives the needle an inch or so directly downward.

       “Aaaggghhh!”  Barely able to scream, her own saliva chocking her, she feels the piercing needle impaling her bare tit directly through her nipple.  “Aaaggghhh!!!”  Another harsh sensation as the needle’s flicked again.  “Aaaggghhh!!!”  Yet another harsher flick, the needle’s jammed completely inward, all four inches sinking into her tortured breast, straight downward.

       Barely twisting her fingers, feeling the needle embedded in the rock hard breast, the Doc casually rips open the second clear cellophane package, removes a matching syringe.  Lining it above the tinged nipple, again glancing at the Commandant, then Captain, she jams downward, one harsh thrust, impales the entire four inches into the pulsing globe.

       “Aaaaaaggggghhhhhhh!!!”  The loudest, harshest scream yet, the girl’s body thrashing in her bindings, her wrists, ankles chafing, urine spurting from between her thighs onto the floor as her hollowed stomach flexes beneath her heaving ribcage.  Again a step or so back, again watching her glistening body contorting, gyrate across the table and the Doc reaches for the third wrapper, tears it open.

       Leaning down across the table, holding her open palm across the girl’s quivering navel, she nods toward the other two.  Each holding a thigh, they watch, almost mesmerized as the Doc centers the needle directly above the girl’s clit.  Letting the tip just touch the engorged nub, slightly raising it back up, she flicks downward.

       “Aaaaaggghhhhhh…Aggghhhhhh…Aaagg……….”  The screams, the urine, the bucking lasts just moments, cut short as the girl’s naked body convulses, goes limp on the table.

       Releasing the syringe, watching it’s tremors as its remaining three inches stands upright from between her thighs, the three officials step back a couple steps, pleased with the progress of the girl’s punishment session as the Captain looks for the couple empty buckets.  Allowed just a short few minutes respite of unconsciousness, the buckets filled, the mixture measured, it’s time to resume the punishment.

       Ice cold, yet burning, searing across her drenched flesh, she tastes the foul, acrid taste of the mixture as she coughs, spews out what she can from the taut ‘O’ ring holding her lips firmly apart as she’s jolted back into consciousness.  Her mind ravaged with terror, her arms, legs virtually numb from the tightening bindings on her stretched limbs, the darkness and silence is devastating to her psyche as she remains spread-eagled on her back, wracked with pain, one endless torture after another.

       A brief moment or two, another soaking cascade of the burning yet ice cold solution splashes around the table, across the prisoner’s naked body held across it as the Captain empties the second bucket.  Urine, traces of blood draining off the table, collect mix with the water, swirling down into the drain directly beneath it.  She’s again well alert for the punishment session to continue.

       Sorting across the tray, finding another pair of cellophane packages, tearing open the first the Doc reaches across the girl’s spread legs, pinches and stretches a tight fold of her labia.  Pressing it against the inner side of her thigh, she jams the needle downward.  The Captain watching from the other side of the table leans across, grips the girl’s jerking leg around the knee as the Doc pinches, weaves, alternates the needle through the labia lip and the flesh of the inner thigh.

       Hoarse grunts, moans barely escape the ’O’ ring, the girl’s voice all but gone as her trembling body jerks at the table.  The Commandant ripping open the other package hands that needle to the Doc as she pinches at and tugs the other fleshy fold against the girl’s other inner thigh.  A sadistic back and forth weave of the needle through the trembling flesh and the Doc steps back a step, picks up the white cloth and a marked bottle of alcohol sorted out on the tray.  A good couple splashes, soaking an edge of the cloth; she swipes it back and forth between the girl’s bleeding, quivering legs, across the trio of needles impaling the flesh surrounding her now gapping slit, the libia lips sewn wide against her thighs.

       Both the girl’s legs reflexively jerking, the Captain continues to lean her weight across the knees as the Doc soaks the tinged corner of the cloth again with a couple, three more splashes of alcohol drenching the cloth, leans between the girls’ spread thighs and wrapping the cloth around her thumb begins stuffing it into the gapping orifice, first, second knuckle.

       Twitching, jerking, her mind blurring with pain, every nerve ending from her knees to her head’s on fire.  Wave after wave of searing pain sweeping across her bound, pierced body fastened securely down on the table, she again borders on unconsciousness.  Struggling for each breath, her mind can’t comprehend the damage being done to her tortured body as even her screams through her raw throat have been silenced, reduced to guttural grunts.

       Glancing over their tortured prisoner’s body, the young, once exotic body now stretched, contorted, bleeding on the table, breasts swollen, discolored in their elastic bindings,  the Doc steps toward the wall , wheels a three wheeled receptacle with a bag and tube hanging from it over toward the bottom of the table.  Its use obvious, she manipulates the tube into the gapping slit of the girl’s vagina as she inflates the bulb holding it firmly inside that orifice. The process of the filling of the enema bag begins, repeatedly.

       The solution, of course the Doc’s concoction, flows freely at first.  By the time the second bags ingested, the girl’s once hollowed; flat stomach begins to swell, round outward.  The third beg started, the Doc secures the bulb even firmer preventing it’s extraction from the pressure.  Beginning to pump, force the solution in, the girl’s stomach appears pregnant, well pregnant.  By the forth bag, her navel appears ready to burst, her bound, tubular breasts, a deep purple in color, scrapping back and forth across the upper curve of the stretching muscles of her ballooning stomach.

       Feeling her insides filling, uncomfortable at first, but nothing compared to the multiple other pains consuming her spread-eagled body, she feels the pressure mounting, her already agonizing punishment almost unbearable, she frantically struggles to survive the onslaught.  As the minutes pass, the bloating of her contorted body is consumed with yet another excruciating pain.  Feeling on the verge of bursting, everything bound, swelling, inside and out, she fights for each breath, her nostrils flailing as saliva continuously spews across her face with each forced grunt for breath.

       Sensing she can’t hold another drop, the Doc closes off the tube.  Running her fingers across, around the almost oval stomach, cupping one then the other rock hard breast, she slides a finger into the puckered slit of the girl’s rectum.  Reaching for a familiar Gynecologist tool, sliding its multiple oval tipped end into the girl’s, she twists, turns.  Its prongs spreading, the sphincter muscles contract around the rounded circumference of the stainless instrument just below the tube impaling her vagina.  Slowly widening, the Doc continues manipulating the handle, a couple inches, two, three, four inches wide, large enough for a fist as the girl’s naked thighs quiver, the needles tugging at her stretched labia, her taut thighs.  Again sure she’s at the limit, her rectum a gapping, dark hole, the Doc steps back, examines the girl, her work.

       Just one more item to use on the girl before she’s left with her thoughts for awhile, stepping across the room to a cabinet, selecting a funnel, the Doc steps toward the head of the table.  Resting a hand on the girl’s strapped forehead, she slides the tip of the funnel between the ‘O’ ring, the tapered end forced three, four inches deep into her yawning mouth.  Glancing from the Captain to the Commandant, remaining quiet for a few moments, just the constant patter of raindrops on the roof breaking the silence, she releases the funnel, rubs the girl’s bulging belly in circles around the stretched navel.

       “Anyone need to go to the restroom… Relieve yourselves before we check on the other girl, bring her out?”  She asks as she again glances toward the funnel.

END PART 3