“Stand up,” Emmy ordered.
“Yes, Mistress,” Rylee said miserably.
“Turn around and grab your ankles.”
“Yes, Mistress,” she sobbed, and she caught Carlton’s excited look before she bent over. She heard a swish, and a burn across her bottom.
“Oooh,” she hopped forward.
“Get back here,” Emmy demanded. “And you better keep those feet planted.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Rylee wailed. The switch slashed across her thighs and she screamed, but managed to only jerk a little forward and she quickly backed up again. Once more it came down on her bottom and she wailed.
“Go over to Carlton.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Rylee rubbed the welts with her fingertips and Emmy smiled at the stripes as she walked away. Carlton snapped and she knelt by his side and cried quietly.
“Brian, in the morning tell John to come over about ten minutes after he sends Tammy to me,” Emmy said.
Brian and Steven’s eyes flashed. The girl was going to be in big trouble. Served her right for making them look bad by not finishing her chores.
Carlton spoke up, “I think we’ll get to the marking right after dinner. Remember, she’s off limits to you two until your mother or I say different.”
“You said we might be able to use her mouth,” Steven reminded him.
Carlton said, “Steven, if you really want to shove your cock into her mouth after the marking when she’s just been unringed, go for it. If it was me and I got that hyped up, I’d rather make a quick run to the quarters.”
Rylee ate her thickened gruel and every once in a while she would trace a welt and hitch a sob. The thrashing hurt, but she was relieved they did not bind her hands again. She was told not to get dirty. There was a nervous excitement in the people eating above her, and she was sure it had something to do with whatever terrible plans they had for her later.
After dinner was finished, Rylee was left kneeling by Carlton while Emmy cleared the table. “Boys, get the straps and prepare them.”
“Yes, mom.” Brian rose and walked to the table in the living room. He lifted the top and came back to the kitchen with an assortment of belts. From her kneeling position, Rylee kept her head lowered but raised her eyes enough to see them attaching the belts to the table legs. Carlton knew she was watching when he saw her begin to tremble. Anticipation was part of the fun.
He tapped the top of her head and she rose. The big man stood, and Rylee stared into his chest with her eyes already filling. “On your back, girl.” Rylee turned and looked at the heavy wooden table. She thought about the thick straps the boys had wrapped around the four legs, and her panicked mind tried to fathom why they wanted to restrain her to it. At some point, she had begun whimpering without realizing it, and the entire family was watching her misery with heightened passion. Carlton banged his hand down on the surface, breaking the momentary silence. Rylee slowly turned around and sat on the edge of the table. She looked at the ground for a second, and then stared up at Carlton, pleading with her big blue teary eyes. When she realized there was going to be no sympathy and that he may be planning more punishment due to her stalling, she scooted back and lay down.
Emmy put her hands on Brian’s shoulders while she looked down at the frightened girl. She felt a slow tight pulsing in her core, and she knew that sex with Carlton later was going to be eruptive and passionate. “You boys are going to have a greater role in this marking. It will be one of your last opportunities before you have slaves of your own to practice on. Get the girl secured.”
Brian latched her wrist cuffs together, raised her arms and secured them to either leg of the table. He wrapped two more cuffs around her upper arms and clipped them on very short straps to the loop on her collar, so her arms ran up the sides of her face and kept her from turning her head.
While he was busy with that, Steven was attaching her spread ankles to the table legs and pulling in the slack. He wrapped wide cuffs with a wooden pole attached to them around her knees, keeping her legs spread. Rylee was crying softly at her vulnerability.
Carlton was spreading the contents of the pouch on the counter by the sink, and Emmy reached up to the cabinet and handed him a brown jar. Carlton walked up to Rylee and traced a finger around her trembling lips. “Emmy, get a spreader for me.”
Emmy went to the living room, and came back with a curious looking device. “Why not just ring her again?”
“She’ll look more natural with this, and I want to watch her.” Carlton looked down with the weird strap and block spreader Emmy had handed him. “Open.”
“Yes, Master,” Rylee mewled. He placed an inch an a half piece of wood behind her back teeth, wrapped the leather around the back of her head, and pulled so tightly she groaned at the pressure on her other cheek when he lodged the other block on the opposite side of her jaw. The contraption pulled against the sides of her opened mouth.
Carlton turned to his sons. “Nipples always first. Sometimes they pass out with the rest of it.”
The boys each grabbed a breast and began squeezing the fleshy mounds with their hands while they dropped their lips to a nipple. She felt them sucking and nipping with seductive softness, and she heard Carlton tell his wife, “Look, she’s already pooling juices.”
Rylee groaned in humiliation. She knew whatever they had planned was going to be torturous, and still her body betrayed her by giving them the illusion she was aroused. No one could be aroused under these circumstances. Why was her channel tightening with its pulsing search?
Steven nipped a little harder against the erect bud in his mouth, and smiled up at her degraded tears. His lips left her breast and he flicked the wet nub, “I’m good.”
“Me too,” Brian announced.
Mere piercing was sadistically arousing for them, but Emmy had learned a more devious torture from Carlton’s mother. She and Carlton wrapped thin strips of leather at the base of each erect bobble and knotted them tightly, trapping the blood in the taut beads. They waited a few minutes, and Emmy leaned down and scraped a nail over the tip. Rylee rewarded her with a loud shriek, and tried to shake her head. She did manage to shift her hips, and Carlton said, “I don’t think we need a hip belt, you boys hold her still.”
Rylee felt the boys’ hands on her hips and knew they were going to press her into the table when she moved. Emmy’s nail approached the engorged, discolored tip of her nipple and scraped again. There was a crushing force on her hips as she screamed. “I think she’s ready,” Emmy smiled.
Rylee watched Carlton come back from the counter with two rings that he handed to Emmy, and the brown jar with the lid removed. He reached in and pulled out a four inch dripping needle, and Rylee shrieked and screamed and tried to battle her bindings. Emmy knelt down and ran a finger over her tight lips. “Louder, girl. You know how I want the neighbors to hear.”
Rylee was trying to plead and screamed, “Oh… oh od… oh… eese oh.”
Emmy walked behind her and pressed her strong hands on her shoulders, keeping her further pinned to the hard wooden table as Carlton approached her sensitized nipple with the needle. Rylee’s screams of agony made Steven close his eyes in ecstasy for a moment, and he almost missed the needle pushed through with a spurt of blood, until the ring filled the hole. Emmy reached down to turn it so the closed edges could heal inside her, and the pretty blue quartz blinked in the light. “It matches her eyes beautifully, Carlton.”
Rylee was reduced to shuddering sobs by the time he finished the second one, and she looked up at him with hatred. The glare quickly turned to fear when he chuckled, “Wait until we remove these little nipple nooses, girl.”
The pain of her blood rushing back into her tips and forcing the holes to close tighter around the rings made her buck so hard that the boys had a struggle keeping her pinned. They were excited she had not passed out or gotten so delirious she could not experience the clit ring.
Carlton was going to have the boys work her to
expose his next target. He spread his folds, smiled and said, “Emmy, look at this.”
Emmy stared at Rylee’s pussy with a moment of confusion, and then she ran her fingers through the slick folds, held her fingers up, and smiled at her sons. “Obviously, our little slave is looking forward to her markings.” Her clit was already stiffened and standing out proud from the petals surrounding it.
Carlton reached into the jar and removed some flat tweezers. The boys pressed on her hips while Emmy spread her labia with one hand and squeezed the tweezers at the base of the little bead with her other. Rylee felt the needle pierce her little pearl and she wailed in articulate begging noises.
Rings were threaded through her labia, and it was finally over. Rylee felt the boys release her hips, and Emmy swiped some antiseptic over all the new piercings. The sting of the liquid barely registered.
Steven rubbed his stiff erection. “She’s a little out of it. I think I’ll hit the quarters.” Brian nodded in agreement.
“Go ahead, take off,” Carlton laughed. His own cock was pressing so hard into his jeans that he was sure the zipper was leaving track impressions on his rod.
Carlton and Emmy left the girl whimpering and secured to the table while they sat in the living room with snifters of brandy, congratulating themselves on having acquired the perfect slave. Emmy reiterated she would be speaking to Alma the next day. “She won’t believe the girl was aroused after the nipple piercing. She’s going to insist we couldn’t have noosed her.”
Rylee’s garbled pleas and wails reduced to whimpers, and they rose to let her up. Carlton removed the jaw spreader, and Rylee gushed. “Please, please no more. I’ll do whatever you say… whatever you want.”
Carlton laughed. “You’ll do that anyway, girl, and you’ve earned yourself a punishment for speaking.” Rylee wailed but managed to stop her begging.
A thought occurred to Emmy, and she said, “I know just the punishment. Untie her, but leave her on the table.”
When Rylee’s legs and hands were freed, she kept her eyes squeezed shut, anticipating the blow of a cane or flogger. Emmy said, “Get your legs bent and separated.” Rylee was terrified she meant to strike her tortured pussy, but she did as the woman ordered. “Masturbate,” Emmy demanded, and she looked at her husband’s broad approving smile.
Rylee lay still. No, no…I can’t do that. Not in all this pain, and in front of them. No… they can’t make me do that.
Emmy hooked her pinky nail through the clit ring and tugged. Rylee’s hands clasped over hers while she shrieked, wanting the hand removed but afraid to pull it away. “I didn’t hear your answer to my order, girl. Perhaps you would like to earn a second punishment?”
Rylee sobbed, “No, Mistress.”
“Then, get busy,” Emmy snapped and released her hold.
Rylee slowly raised her legs and Emmy’s hands slapped her thighs further apart. “Spread those fat lips so Carlton can see how pleased you are with his work.”
Rylee cried, and her sob hitched when her finger felt her copiously discharged juices. She ran a tentative finger through her folds and shuddered when her finger touched the ring in her flesh. Automatically, it dropped to the base of her newly pierced clit. The thought that she could actually achieve what they ordered, seemed impossible. It was even more distressing to discover how quickly she was able to arouse herself. She had been tortured, and her tormentors were staring down at her with sadistic pleasure. Rylee rocked into an explosive eruption that almost forced her legs together as her head swayed back and forth on the table.
Emmy was more convinced than ever, that their family had acquired what Alma referred to as a ‘true treasure’ among slaves. They lifted the girl off the table, and guided her back to the bedroom.
After servicing Carlton, Emmy warned her to use Tammy’s techniques to prepare her. Rylee made an acceptable effort, and after the couple finished their orgasms, she cleaned them and climbed down by their feet for an exhaustive, painful sleep.
Chapter IV
In the morning when Rylee awoke, neither of them was in bed. She lay quietly staring around the room, enjoying a brief waking moment without their torment. Emmy came in a few minutes later with the brown jar in her hand, and Rylee shuddered.
“Roll over and spread yourself.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Emmy grabbed her hand and pushed it towards her pussy, and Rylee separated her folds.
The sting of the antiseptic made her wince, but the pain was minor compared to everything else she had been through. Emmy ordered her to stand, and she followed her to the kitchen. She knelt before her breakfast and, after she finished, Emmy showed her how to work the sink pump to wash the dishes.
Rylee forced herself not to turn when there was a knock on the door. She heard Tammy’s voice, and briefly thought about warning her. Screw it. She didn’t mind throwing me to the sadistic bitch’s claws yesterday. Rylee continued drying the dishes and putting them away without turning.
“I forgot to check the garden, yesterday. Rylee, go to the washing platform.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Rylee stood facing the water, with her back to the garden.
“Not a bad job.” Emmy pointed to the Rylee’s wilted pile of weeds. “Why didn’t you put those in the burning pit?”
“I’m sorry, Mistress. You left with the new slave, and I thought I should go back to the quarters,” Tammy stuttered.
Rylee heard the back door slam and she glanced around to see a huge scowling man storming up to the women. Brian and Steven followed behind him with smirking faces. Rylee quickly turned back to the pond and listened.
“What the fuck did she do wrong now, Emmy?”
“After two days in this little garden patch, she couldn’t seem to get it weeded. And then… she lied to me, this morning. Rylee, get over here,” Emmy called.
Rylee quickly ran over to them, “Yes, Mistress.”
“Tammy, who pulled those weeds?” Emmy demanded, pointing to the pile.
Tammy was already crying, and said nervously, “I did?” It came out like a question.
“Rylee?” Emmy asked.
Rylee said quietly, “I did, Mistress. You punished me because you ordered me to walk around the garden and not get dirty.”
“She’s lying,” Tammy screamed. She knew she was trapped, but the other girl was new. They might not believe her. She groaned when Brian spoke up.
“And that was why I watched her for a few minutes, and brought her down to the pond to wash her hands?” he questioned triumphantly.
The big man’s hand crashed down on the girl’s face and she spun to the grass. He reached down and lifted the terrified girl by the hair while she screamed and wailed, “I’m sorry, Quarter Master. I was just trying to take my time and do a good job.” Her lies kept compounding, and the man raised his hand again.
Emmy caught it in mid-swing. “John, can I punish her before you take her back to the quarters?”
The big man’s smile had the appearance of a terrifying leer. “I defer to your judgment,” John said. “As long as I can watch,” he added quickly.
“Of course. I want the boys to get some practice before they work with Rylee. Boys, set the posts… all of them.” Emmy smiled when they walked to the shed.
Tammy remained shaking by the man, with her long ponytail still in his grip. She was crying softly, and once in a while she looked up and glared hatred at Rylee.
“I think I’ll have her ringed… maybe I’ll cage her.” John was frustrated trying to get the girl to behave. If she was not a favorite among the women for her oral servicing abilities, he would have done it sooner.
“I don’t know, John,” Emmy pondered. “It can be rather rewarding to catch her in her lies. She’s so bad at it.”
John smiled wistfully, “True, I hadn’t considered that.”
The boys had a tall post with two much shorter poles on either side, stuck into permanent brackets fixed in the center of the lawn. They walked back to their mother
and grinned. “You may secure her any way you want, but make sure you have access to her. You are not allowed to leave marks that will scar.”
“Yes, mother.” They looked at each other like they had won the lottery, and each grabbed one of the girl’s arms. She screamed and fought the whole way over to the pole.
“Two years,” John shook his head. “You would think she’d be better trained. She hates punishment, but look at her,” he said in disgust.
Emmy watched her boys clip the girl’s wrists together. Steven stood on one of the short poles and Brian lifted her by her waist. She watched them talk back and forth and agree on their scheme. It reminded her how Steven led, but quite often it was Brian who came up with the plans. Steven wrapped the girl’s hair around the bolt holding the securing strap, and then Brian slowly lowered her so Steven could hook her wrists onto the strap.
Whiplash! Page 9