Chapter 20: Punishment of a Bad Girl Continued
It took a second before he realized that he had struck precisely upon her nipple and that the cracking blow must have sent pain shooting through her breast like an electric shock.
As he readied himself for the next strike, the girl tried to pull one hand up to cover a breast. But with her elbows bound touching, the best she could do was to touch the bottom of one breast as she twisted her arms around to the front. He simply targeted the other breast and again caused her great pain.
Repeatedly the leather snapped out to impact on one of the soft breasts of the bound and naked girl. And repeatedly she cried out into her gag and tried uselessly to turn herself so that her breasts might not be a target. But he could walk around her much faster then she could shuffle her bound feet, and the leather continued to mark up the tender skin of her breasts.
It grew hot in the small basement as he continued punishing the bound girl, both of them sweating, one from exertion, one from pain. When finally he stopped, her breasts were covered with red marks and she was sobbing out her pain. Tears ran down her cheeks to drop to those punished breasts. He watched as a tear slid down to hang from her left nipple. It was then he also noticed that those nipples were erect, made large, either from the punishment or fear or maybe sexual excitement. He didn’t know which and didn’t care.
Dropping the whip into the box of ropes, he went upstairs to check on his daughter. The hallway light illuminated her bed and he could see as she twisted her head around to again plead with her eyes. “You should have known better,” he said, mostly to himself. “You should have never tried drugs.” Then he went into the bathroom, peeled of his shirt and toweled off his sweat. Before returning to the basement he put on a fresh shirt and made a phone call.
He did not talk to the girl standing in the basement. She knew why he was doing this, knew of his anger and was afraid that this pain, as terrible as it was, would not be enough to satisfy him. Like her bottom, the flesh of her breasts was turning vivid colors not naturally found on a young woman. He tried to untie the cords around her knees but found them too tight, so he just cut them free. Then he untied the thin cord from around her ankles.
A trace of hope flashed across her face only to disappear when he retied one end of a rope around an ankle. Soon that ankle was pulled out to one side and tied towards the wall. The second ankle was soon noosed and also pulled out, spreading her legs wide. Fear again filled her eyes as the spreading of her legs lowered her head and tightened the noose around her neck. But she was also afraid because she suddenly realized what target was now presented to his whips. He picked up the slender belt he had used to mark her breasts and approached the helpless girl. She cried out and shook her head wildly in denial of what she knew was coming.
The first stroke landed squarely upon her sex, slashed upward with all the strength of a male arm. She screamed into the gag and jerked backwards. For a long second her eyes were wide with fear and torment as her body leaned back, pulling painfully on the rope around her neck. When she realized she could not breathe, she jerked her body forward and regained her balance.
Her eyes pleaded, and whines of fear escaped around the rubber ball filling her mouth. She screamed again as the second blow impacted into her most tender and private place.
With a power drill he made several small holes on each side of the trunk. “Want you to be able to breath,” he explained. Then he lifted the bound and naked body into the trunk. “He knows of a whore house that specializes in girls for men who want to treat a girl real rough. Understand?” he asked the girl in the trunk. “A lot of men want to whip a naked girl,” he mused. “Then screw her. You’re young. You’ll probably last twenty years before you’re too old for them to use anymore.” It was a tight fit, but he managed to force her down until the lid closed. Then he sat down and had a scotch. “You won’t be pushing drugs any more,” he told the trunk.
His friend showed up on time. After a quick peek inside to confirm its contents, they carried the trunk out to his pickup truck and roughly deposited it in the back. His friend drove off a happy man, thinking of the pesos he would make. And of the fun screwing this sweet, young and helpless thing.
Upstairs he sat on his daughter’s bed and considered her naked and still strung-up form. “I think it would be best that you be taught a lesson,” he told her. “I think that a week of constant tight bondage and some good, old-fashion whipping of your bottom will help.”
She was whining and struggling weakly as he turned off the light and left.
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