Thanks, glad you are all liking it. Comments are always welcome and motivate me to write faster. :)
Next part starts now!
***
Brian stepped off into the darkness as the girls sat frozen in fear. Erin didn’t dare move—displeasing her captors now would surely only make her punishment worse. This thought made her feel shameful and disgusting; she couldn’t even bear to look at Isabel at that moment. Instead, she went to work wiping the chunky vomit from her face as best she could, rubbing it off her hands onto the rough concrete. Chris and Mark paced around the girls, as if to prevent them from going anywhere, but they seemed to realize their efforts were not needed and eventually stopped and stood behind the girls, talking softly to each other.
Erin was able to fully open her eyes just in time to see Brian return carrying a large black box with steel-reinforced edges and several steel latches. Wondering what could be in the box, she looked at Isabel with a mixture of fright and puzzlement. Her friend, sitting with her knees drawn close to her face, returned Erin’s gaze and sniffed twice through her tears. Isabel’s makeup had begun to run down her cheeks, and her thin, pale torso and small, bare breasts were still coated in Erin’s viscid vomit. Erin’s eyes wandered to Isabel’s spindly dancer’s legs, which also dripped with sickeningly-colored puke. She noticed for that first time that morning that Isabel’s legs were covered in welts from the previous night’s whippings: against her pale skin, the redness stood out brilliantly. Looking down at her own tan body, Erin could not see her welts as easily, but it was hard to distinguish them from the multitude of bruises she had attained over the past few days.
Brian set the box on the floor and opened it so that the girls could only see its lid. From it he produced what looked like a long, black bullwhip and a pink ball gag. Both girls shrank back in fear but didn’t dare move. Erin clenched her teeth: thinking about the pain from last night’s whipping already make her sick to the stomach, and she was not looking forward to a similar punishment today. She wasn’t even sure if her body could handle much more, especially after such an uncomfortable night of sleep.
“Chris, you do the honors,” Brian said, handing the materials to his comrade. “Go get us set up.”
Chris nodded and disappeared into the dark. At this, Brian grabbed Erin by the arms and twisted her up to her feet, while Mark did the same with Isabel. Suddenly, a light, identical to the one above the girls, snapped on across the room, several yards away. It illuminated a patch of the wall where Erin could see Chris inspecting two sets of shackles attached to the wall, high above his shoulders.
“Now, girls, let’s go,” Brian said. “Don’t make a fuss or your punishment will be even worse, I promise you.” He and Mark led the girls over to where Chris was standing.
“Your punishment for not finishing your breakfasts is thirty lashes each from this whip,” Brian explained. Erin gasped in fright but stood still, intensely aware of Brian’s firm grip on her upper arms. “Chris, please demonstrate a sidearm crack for the ladies.”
Chris turned away from the girls, facing parallel to the wall, then unwound the whip and held it out to his side so that it coiled upon the floor. Erin guessed it was about seven feet in length. He pulled his arm back then snapped it forward quickly, creating a loud CRACK in the air in front of him. At this, Erin buckled in Brian’s grip and felt like she was about to faint.
“Aww, look!” Brian said with glee. “Someone’s scared of the whip. That’s a shame, Erin, because it’s something you are going to have to get used to, very fast. Whips and floggers of all kinds are some of our favorite toys here, as perhaps you could tell from last night. Just for that, though, I’m going to let you suffer the wait a bit longer. Mark? Shackle Isabel. We’ll start with her.”
“No!” Erin exclaimed, shaking with fear. “Please just let me get it over with!”
While Erin did want to protect to her friend—at least for as long as she could—she was also genuinely eager to get her whipping over with as soon as possible. She was never very tolerant of pain, but in her mind it was better to get through a bad experience quickly than wait in miserable anticipation.
“Sorry, you don’t get to do what you want here.” Brian moved close to Erin’s ear. “You do what
we say.”
Erin watched in horror as Mark fastened Isabel’s wrists in the shackles, high above her head, and slipped the ball gag around her head, lodging it firmly between her teeth. Other than her arms, Isabel could move relatively freely in place, and she immediately began and shaking the shackles and struggling violently. Due to her height, her feet barely touched the ground; she was standing on the very tips of toes. At first Erin figured it must be painful, but then remembered Isabel was a dancer and was probably used to standing on her toes.
Still, Erin thought,
I wouldn’t want to be in that position.
“Hahaha,” Mark said, “squirm all you want, but you’re not going anywhere. You’ll be getting your thirty lashes no matter what.” He leaned forward and spat on Isabel’s face, sending her into another fit of rage.
“That’s right,” Chris said, holding the bullwhip out in front of Isabel. “And if you think the multi-tail floggers from yesterday hurt, just wait till you feel this guy.” He cracked the bullwhip between his hands. “A big single tail like this is quite the bitch. And Erin, you’re going to do the honors.”
Chris stepped toward Erin and placed the handle of the whip in her left hand. She gaped at him in shock.
“Oh don’t look so shocked, of course we know you’re left handed,” Chris said. “If you think we just randomly picked you off the boardwalk, you must be insane. We know a lot about both you girls. We’re not stupid enough to kidnap
strangers. But that’s beside the point. Now, do you remember my whip cracking demonstration?”
Erin gulped and nodded. “I-I think so.”
“Good.” Chris stepped off to the side.
“Now,” Brian said, his grip still firm on Erin’s arms. “You’re going to give your little bestie here thirty good lashings, just how Chris showed you. If you’re feeling saucy, feel free to change up your form, but I wouldn’t go too crazy if I were you. It’s not hard for an inexperienced whipcracker like yourself to make a mistake and put someone’s eye out. Now, there’s only three rules: one, no aiming for the face, obviously. Two, you may aim anywhere else on her body above her knees, but you must whip both her breasts and her stomach at least ten times each. If your aim isn’t so hot, we will be happy to wait patiently until you get it right—though, I don’t think your friend here would like that too much.”
At this, Isabel shouted intelligibly through her gag and squirmed again, her slender legs shaking in fear. Erin felt a pit growing in her stomach.
“Three, you must give it all you’ve got. Believe me, bitch, we’ll know if you’re going easy on her. We’ve all been using whips for a very long time and know what a good mark looks like. You will count aloud after each stroke. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you to repeat it. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Erin said meekly. She knew she had no choice.
“Excellent. I’m going to let go of your arms now. Don’t dare try anything stupid, or I swear to god we will beat you to a fucking pulp. Even with that whip you’re no match for three men. Plus, I know you’re smarter than that.”
Erin felt like spitting in Brian’s face but restrained herself as he released her. She instead looked to Isabel, who was shaking her head pleadingly, tears and the glob of Mark’s saliva running down her face.
“I’m sorry, Is, I’m so sorry … it’s either me or them, though.” Erin’s own eyes began to moisten. “I
have to … I’m
so sorry.”
Isabel sniffed and attempted to regain her composure. At least Erin could tell she understood their situation. She looked down at the whip, repositioned her grip to match Chris’s demonstration, then looked back to Isabel. She had her strong back arched to maintain balance, which stretched her breasts tightly so she appeared flat-chested. Erin’s gaze followed the drying streams of vomit down her chest and clearly visible ribcage, past her tight, slender stomach and tuft of red pubic hair, to her lissome legs.
There’s no way this isn’t going to hurt like hell, especially with her tiny body, Erin thought.
How fucking cruel of them. How will I ever be able to look Isabel in the eyes again after this? They're tearing us apat.
Yet Erin knew she had to go forward with the whipping. Certainly the fate that awaited her if she disobeyed her captors would be far worse—likely for both her and Isabel. Erin gulped, tightened her grip on the black leather handle, then raised it out to her side.