"I've a horrid feeling I know what I've got to do with this," she sighed, as she regarded the pointy mat without enthusiasm, "and I believe the rhyme when it says it will be no pleasure. My bottom's sore enough already, after you beat me so cruelly, and sitting on this is going to be no fun."
"But you'll do it because you want to beat the other girls, and be accepted into the club?"
"True," she admitted, "I must be mad to do it."
They set off towards the stile and the waiting car. After he had helped her over, he stopped her.
"Here, you can carry your own mat," he said with a grin, "open your legs."
She had been about to protest that she couldn't hold it with her hands tied behind her, but remembered in time not to answer back, but to do as she was told. It was becoming surprisingly easy for her already to obey the commands he gave. Besides, if she were quiet, he might just forget about the gag, and it would be worth a lot not to have her knickers forced back between her teeth.
She stood with legs apart, waiting patiently as he rolled up the mat, the spikes on the outside, and pushed the tight cylinder high up between her thighs, until she could grip it with her soft white flesh, then dropped her dress back into place.
"How am I meant to walk like this?" she protested, then shut up quickly as she realised her mistake. Perhaps he might have let her off the panty gag, if she'd held her peace, but now he opened her jaws with the usual irresistible pressure on the corners of her mouth and stuffed the tight wad back in place once more.
Unable to do anything else but try her best, and not caring to think about what he might do if she were to drop the uncomfortable studded wedge between her thighs, she set off at a shuffle down the lane.
When they had arrived, the car park had been empty, and they had mercifully had the place to themselves. Now there was another car near theirs, and a large and boisterous family preparing to march off to view the Maidens, mother, father, two teenage children, and an older girl, maybe eighteen. She hoped Henry would turn aside and wait inconspicuously by the hedge until the family had passed, but he held on his way and she had no choice but to follow, trying to walk as naturally as possible, but hampered badly her sore feet and the roll between her bare thighs which she gripped tightly to stop it slipping. Her waddling gait was duck-like, and they couldn't help but know there was something wrong with her, while she was terrible conscious of the gag in her mouth, and her pinioned wrists.
At least Henry moved to cover her back, walking just a little to one side, and slightly behind, with his hand on her arm so that it looked as if they were simply in a rather romantic embrace.
"Come on," he said, "they won't be able to tell. They'll probably think you've been caught short and dumped in your knickers. As for the gag, if you keep your mouth shut and your eyes on the road, they'll be certain you've done something disgusting and can't meet their eyes."
Hardly reassuring, she thought. She wondered if she wouldn't really have felt better if they'd been able to know just what her state was; the thick blazing welts across her buttocks, the horrid mat she'd have to set those same throbbing stripes on in just a minute, her bound wrists, and the wet panties in her mouth. Her mud smeared face, and the painful intruders in her hose. And the clips on her teats and vulva, although, with the passing of time their hurt had subsided into a dull numbness, pushed out of mind by the accumulation of her other discomforts. She wondered how the girl would react, and had a sudden insane wish to show her; to shout out, 'look, you could be like this. This is how a woman should be.'
The moment and the family passed, and they were at the car. The younger children hurrying to the stile and the waiting Maidens but, she noticed, the girl lagged behind watching her with an abstracted look. Had she sensed something? She was roused from her speculation by Henry tugging at her arm as he turned her into the open door of the car. Without ceremony he hauled up her dress behind.
"Open!" and she obediently relaxed her thighs so that he could remove the mat and set it on the leather of the seat.
"Bare essentials, remember?" he said, as he pushed her sore striped buttocks onto the cruel spikes, without even the thin fabric of the dress to protect them.
She gasped and tried to adjust herself to minimise the discomfort, as he closed the door and got into the driver's seat. The last thing she saw as they left the car park was the girl gazing in open wonder. She couldn't tell at that distance if the look on her face was one of horror or envy.
They opened the next clue as soon as they were safely out of her sight
Clue Ten
Where the hatchet has done good work
You'll need to find a punt.
The pole has somewhat to insert,
In bottom, not in c***.
So now they were on the river at Axwell. The old boathouse was easy enough to find, with a punt tied up outside. The pole neatly in the straps alongside and, taped to it, another plastic bag. He had left her in the same parlous condition of painful restraint, but once again relented enough to relieve her of the gag, at least for the moment. She had no confidence that she would be left with the power of speech for long. Stepping into the flat-bottomed boat he lifted out the contents of the bag; the usual card and, her eyes widened in speculation, a large bubble pack of a dozen thick brown torpedo-shaped objects, each as big as a man's thumb.
"What on earth are those?" she demanded, not at all sure she wanted to know.
"I knew I should have left those panties in place," Henry said resignedly, "you really must learn to control your curiosity," and he turned the card over without giving her an answer.
The card proclaimed...
'Double dose, and keep it fast.
This cleansing draught is meant to last.'
Henry grinned evilly.
"Feet apart, and bend over tight," he ordered.
"But what are they?" she begged. "What are you going to do with them?"
"Veterinary suppositories," he informed her. "They'll flush you out and get you clean, all the way up your lovely bowels."
"Oh God, I couldn't take one of those," she wailed. "They're made for horses, not girls."
"'Fraid you'll have to unless you want to cry off. Pity though," he added. "This is the last, and you're so near home now."
"Oh shit! All right, but careful how you stuff that in. I'm only small behind."
She placed her legs firmly apart and bent over as far as she could and still preserve her balance, hampered as she was by her pinioned wrists. Henry drew her dress onto her back, and prised her swollen buttock cheeks apart with one hand. The air on her anal dimple reminded her how exposed she was. There was a towpath along the river that might at any minute bring a walker in sight of her half-naked body bent so humiliatingly over.
"Oh, hurry please," she gasped, "let's get it over with before someone comes."
She grunted as she felt the tough gelatin capsule forcing her sphincter open, and lodging in her rectal tube. She gasped again as he rammed it all the way home with his thumb, then tried to rise.
"Get down," he barked. "Double dose, remember?"
She moaned, but went down again. The second torpedo penetrated her unwilling anus and was stuffed deeply up to join the first.
"Now you can get up," Henry said, slapping her playfully on one sore haunch. "Better get back to the car quickly, if you know what's good for you. Those little beauties will melt and begin their work any moment now."
She looked at him in horror.
"But I can't get back in the car. I'll have to go here. Let me go behind the boat house, please Henry."
"No way, you have to keep those there until we get back to the Trident, or you lose the race," he informed her.
"But I can't, I can't," she wailed, "I can feel it coming now. Oh Henry, please. I won't be able to hold it."
&n
bsp; "I said it was a mistake, letting you speak," was all the reply she got, and in seconds the panty gag was back in place, with the stocking tied tightly round her head to ensure it stayed there. She looked at him with pleading eyes, but he was adamant. Lifting her dress behind again, he forced her firmly down on the spiked mat.
"Perhaps a little prickle in your bum will take your mind off your belly," he speculated.
The ride was a torment that got worse with every passing minute. Almost as soon as she was back on her painful seat, the gelatin began to leak its contents, a strong caustic laxative fluid she could feel first as a slight burning sensation but which, far too rapidly for her peace of mind, began to fill her whole lower bowel. The motion of the car did nothing for her comfort, and soon she was in the grip of belly cramps, that had her moaning through her gag as she strained to keep her sphincter from giving way. Every bit of her bottom cried out for release, and her anus writhed and clenched in her attempts to prevent it turning itself inside out under the imperative to void her guts. Tears rolled down her face as the spasms rocked her.
Mercifully Major Grange's boathouse was only minutes from their destination. Moaning and grunting in her retentive endeavours, she stumbled from the car to see Tom standing in the doorway to the pub. Hope took over. He seemed to be welcoming them as winners.
"rrr..nng...arrr...uuurt?" she tried to ask, as she hobbled painfully up to him, her wrists still fastened behind her, the dress caught up at her waist, revealing a bruised and battered bottom, the half dozen stripes now over-laid by a painful looking rash of angry spots, a few of which had penetrated the tender skin.
"Just a minute, my dear," Tom said kindly," I think you'll make more sense without this," and relieved her of her gag.
"Are we the first? Have we won?" she croaked, as soon as she could get her tongue to form the words properly.
"Well, you've won," he conceded," but you're the last home. Come and meet your friends."
Dumbstruck, not understanding what he meant, she followed him into the bar. To her amazement every one of the people she knew, even by sight, was there to greet her.
"Oh darling," Renee cried, coming forward with a knot of other women. "Well done. We knew you could do it. Welcome to Sexton."
Not one of the women crowding round her, giving her congratulations and kisses, despite her still fouled face, showed the slightest sing of having been through even a part of the ordeal she had just endured, and she realised with a shock that she had been the only one to take that terrible trail from clue to loathsome clue.
"Give her room," Renee cried, as the other girls pressed her close, "the poor darling will want to shit. Off to the ladies room everybody."
They swept her off between them, her knees almost unable to support her as she writhed and clenched under the suppositories' evil influence. In the powder-room, Renee flung open the door of a cubicle and, without ceremony, thrust her down on the seat. Instantly the dam gave way and to the accompaniment of humiliating sounds of squirting liquid and blurting gases she let it all flow, oblivious to the presence of her new friends clustered round the still open cubicle door.
When at last the intestinal turbulence had subsided, they hauled her out and stripped her.
There were 'ohs' and 'aahs' at the state of her violently decorated bottom, and the pegs and clamps still fixed so firmly in her swollen teats and bruised looking labia.
"God, what a beauty," Renee exclaimed, "feasting her eyes on the purple swollen clit, discoloured and distorted by the cruel grip of the serrated metal jaws.
Eventually she was to thank them for relieving her of the monstrous jaws that bit into her tender nipples and sore vulva but to reach that state of gratitude she had to pass first through the agony of their removal. Their leaving was even worse than their application. She howled unreservedly as the blood ran back into starved tissue, reawakening the numbed nerves which instantly signalled news of what they had endured and she moaned as she accommodated herself to this new and unavoidable torment, while the other women supported and comforted her.
It was messy and humiliating, having to endure this in front of half a dozen women, who were little more than acquaintances, but the relief made everything bearable. Besides, in the last thirty minutes on so, she'd came to think of these women as sisters, not strangers, and to feel one of them. She said as much.
"I think that says it for all of us really," Renee replied, "all sisters under the skin, but you are definitely one stinking mess as well as our sister. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
Half-naked already, it was only a moment's work to propel her into the shower.
"Here, you're in no state to look after yourself," Renee said, "let me help you."
As she spoke, she pulled her sweater over her head, confirming what the precocious outlines of her teats had already suggested, the absence of a bra and, kicking off her trainers, dropped her jeans, to reveal an equal absence of knickers, not to speak of the clear evidence of a prodigious and very recent caning.
"Trust you to grab first go," Laura laughed, as Renee picked up the soap and began to rub it gently over the lovely, but battered body squeezed into the shower stall close to her.
"Yah! Jealousy will get you nowhere," she retorted, as she slipped her soapy hand between the smooth thighs, which parted unconsciously to give it access. The new sister flinched at the touch on her sore chewed lips, then relaxed and pressed herself against the invading fingers as they found the stiff little wedge of her clitoris.
"It's lovely," Renee crooned, winkling out the darling bud that had drawn her attention earlier, and circling it delicately with gentle knowing fingers, "so big and sensitive. Mmm."
"You'd be sensitive too," came the reply, "if you'd had a clip on it all afternoon." But she made no attempt to evade the soothing caress.
In a moment she began to moan and rock her pelvis at the rising sensation induced, and Renee took her hand away, and began to caress her tight round breasts instead.
"Not now," she murmured, "tonight you have to reserve that for Henry, but another time."
The girl groaned in frustration, her fevered feelings not relieved by Renee's thumbs, which were rotating her turgid nipples, which had erected and engorged instantly under the soapy touch, despite their cruelly bruised state.
"It's all right," Renee laughed, "there'll be plenty of other times in the future when we can play in the shower, or on a bed together. It's only tonight you have to be good."
The panting girl pressed herself against the long naked loveliness in front of her, feeling their bodies touch, their breast rub, their bellies press together, their thighs interlock and on an impulse, she brought her face up and kissed Renee full on the mouth.
"Please! Please!" she begged, "I need it so. There'll be plenty left for Henry, I promise you."
Renee looked at her and saw her need in her eyes.
"Oh well, perhaps just one little one," she conceded, "Henry will never miss it," and returned her artful fingers to the throbbing bud, dark as wine and full as a cherry, now actually standing proud of the fat lips that enclosed it.
"Come for me, baby," she crooned, and felt the spasms beginning in the soft belly pressed against her wrist.
A touch more of this sensuous frotting and the girl was on the edge. The stresses and sufferings of the day, the pleasure in her new-found friends, all conspired to an early ending and soon she was honking out her relief, her head thrown back, mouth open, howling like a she-wolf, then she collapsed for a moment against the knowing woman who had brought her this blessed release of tension.
The other women gathered round the stall cheered and applauded. They stood her under the steaming shower and washed off all the accumulated grime, and much of the soreness in all parts of her body. Their attentions were intimate, as well as intensive, and soapy hands found their way
into all her secret cracks and crevices, before the job was done.
When she was dry they sat her down and began to fix her hair and restore her make-up. Someone produced a pair of stockings, her others were a ruin by now, and some quick work with washcloth and tissues served to restore some respectability to her footwear.
"Don't worry about knickers," Laura said, consigning to the trash bin the unsavoury remains of what had once been an exquisite piece of expensive lingerie. "You're expected to stay bare-arsed at a time like this."
"Why's that?" she wanted to know.
"So that the men can inspect the damage of course," Renee said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps it was, she thought, and relaxed under their tender ministrations.
Only then did the thought come to her.
"How did you know that I wanted a shit?" she demanded of no one in particular.
They all laughed again and Laura said, "Well, apart from the fact that you were hopping from foot to foot and writhing like a cut-worm, you're not the only one to travel that road. We've all been through it, and the men always seem to like to end it like that. Sort of the ultimate degradation."
"You've all done it?" she asked amazed. "All been on a one-woman treasure hunt?"
"Well, all been initiated in some way," Renee agreed. "Sometimes a treasure hunt like you, but lots of other ways too."
Even at a time like this, feminine curiosity would not be silenced.
"Such as?" she wanted to know.
"Well, in my case," Trudi said. "they persuaded me that Charles belonged to a secret society, like the masons only stricter. Charles couldn't become a senior member unless he could demonstrate he could dominate his woman. I loved him so I went along with it. We went to stay at the 'Master's' house, and I had to accept a caning, two-dozen beauties. I howled like a baby, but I didn't get up. I can feel each one of them now," she said with a shudder of fearful recollection, not unmixed with lust.
Painful Prize Page 5