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Subject: Pooch's Story Part 12  (BDSM, FM/FFF, SEVERE, Slave)
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This is not a story for children or those not into S&M. Please be warned.

Because of my need to earn a living doing work other than writing it is now a
few months between new parts. If anyone out there has any ideas about how I
could support my lifesyle by my writing I would love to hear from them,
otherwise it will continue to be 2 or 3 months between new posts.
I would also like to place the story on the web in a nice illustrated format.
Artists willing to donate to the cause are also eagerly encouraged to write to
me.

Of course all are welcome to correspond about the story at any time. It helps
encourage me along this long road 
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Prelude to Punishment (Part 12)

With a twin on either side escorting her down the stairs Pooch presented a
vision in white.
For the first time since being handed over to Marla she felt human. Cleaned,
styled and perfumed she descended the stairs with unsure steps knowing that she
had only been made presentable so that soon this too could be taken away from
her, for the entertainment of others. The latex sheathed book-ends at her sides
felt no such trepidation but walked tall and confident sure of their own beauty
and feminine charms.
The twins were Garret's property and trained to make sure that the women in his
club always looked their best. He believed that beauty on the part of the make
up artists served to assure their customers that indeed the indentured employees
were good at their craft.
Judging from the change in Pooch, they were the indeed the best.
Marla watched from the base of the stairs as the trio descended.
Some of the early guests were there with her, Garret, Steve and Greta.
"Why don't you stand facing the corner as straight as you can with your legs
spread. I want you to remember that whenever you are told to assume a position
you will always do it with your legs spread unless told otherwise."
Pooch walked over to the corner just to the left of the door and stood straight
nose and eyes directed straight into the corner, legs spread wide apart. "Pull
down the panties as far as your knees and gather up the back of the dress in
your hands. I want everyone to know why you are here."
This was not as simple a task as it seemed, Pooch had to slowly lift up the
dress using only her fingers requiring her to arch as far backwards as she could
bending her knees so that her crossed hands could grab onto the dress just below
her ass. Slowly the hem worked its way up her white nyloned legs. When the hem
crossed over the top of her panties Pooch grabbed the top of the elastic and
pulled down, again arching back bending her knees and without thinking bringing
them together.
Marla exploded.
"You fucking ignorant shit." Marla grabbed a fistful of Pooch's
hair and to the amazement of Marla's guests, that were just standing around at
the time, the dominatrix yanked her head backwards so hard that Pooch instantly
lost her balance and fell hard to the floor.
Not letting go of the hair, Marla almost yanked off Pooch's entire scalp keeping
her head from smashing into the floor along with the rest of her body.
Marla then straddled her face up slave and then still holding her head up by the
hair slapped her across the face with all the strength she could muster and then
brought her hand back up and did it again.
"I thought I told you not to humiliate me in front of my guests! What a stupid
fuck you are! Did you think that I wouldn't notice what you just did?" Marla was
livid. She again grabbed the scalp with her fist and again slapped the slave's
face twice, this time with her left hand.
Pooch looked for a hole to crawl into. Here she was being put on display for a
room full of strangers and being reprimanded at that. Her ears, about the only
part of her body not covered in make up turned a bright red.
"What have you got to say for yourself, you fuck!" Marla continued to scream so
everybody in the house could hear.
"I'm sorry Mistress, so sorry... Mistress please forgive me...  please I beg you
to forgive me... O please... Dear God, Mistress I'm soooo sorry...
Pleeeeeeeese." Pooch was wailing.
"While you are my property you can forget about forgiveness. When you are caught
disobeying or not living up to expectations you will be made to pay the price. I
just think about all the times that you get away with poor behavior and add a
bit extra for that. No slave of mine will ever disobey me with impunity.
Especially not in front of company."
She let go of the hair and pushed back Pooch's head. It hit the floor with a
loud thud.
"Get up and try it again!!"

Marla's vicious outburst mesmerized the guests. Previously to this most had only
seen the cool and collected defense attorney. This seemed so out of character.
Imaginations were ignited with thoughts of what Marla had in mind for the
slave's actual punishment session if she was this free with her demonic side
before the program even began.
In actuality Marla had not lost her mind at all. She knew that if Pooch was not
on her toes every second of her miserable existence she would bring down so much
additional punishment on herself that she would not last long at all. A few good
smacks across the face would not hurt her physically, but the reminder that it
was intended to be, could do her a world of good and even save her life. Marla
even decided on performing the outburst knowing it could make her look like a
raving lunatic to her guests, and decided that with this crowd that may not be
such a bad look.  
Greta smiled at Marla's performance recognizing it for what it was.
Pooch received the message with the clarity that comes with the sharp cracks
ringing out from your face. It is a feeling that is almost the ultimate
humiliation but for a masochist also a focusing force. Pooch indeed was a
masochist only that feeling of arousal had not been around for quite some time.
Living in a world were her previous limits would be akin to a pat on the head,
gathering the will to still keep living made it ahead of taking any erotic
enjoyment from her treatment, at least not more than the occasional brief
glimpse.
Marla delivered her message successfully. Pooch would consider the propriety of
her every move from now on. Bruises spread across both of her cheeks. "Not only
do you not discipline your body but you have failed to discipline your mouth. I
didn't tell you to beg for mercy although I am sure I will later on when you are
suffering and I'll get something a lot better than what you just blurted out. I
asked you what you had to say for yourself and you couldn't even tell me that
you forgot or something equally lame. So I know you have nothing to say for
yourself. With such little control over what comes out, if I were you I would
try to keep that yap shut as much as possible. Now get up and position yourself
like you were told". Pooch began a series of gyrations of her back and legs
trying to pull the panties down to knee level against the force of her spread
legs.  Bit by bit she worked them down with the very tips of her manicured
finger nails. She would push one side down and the other would ride up. Back and
forth she twisted her body to one side and then the other fighting a battle that
she could not seem to win until she succeeded in twisting them inside out and
catching the elastic in the bony protrusion of her knee.
And so she stood there like an adolescent child waiting for a spanking only
Pooch was no adolescent and she didn't even dream that her punishment would be a
spanking. Maybe with a hand covered with claws. At seven o'clock Pooch was taken
downstairs on a leash led by her Mistress.  Marla, now dressed entirely in black
, leather pants as tight as humanly possible and spike heeled boots right up to
her knees, laces running from just past her toes all the way to the top of the
boot. On top she wore a short open jacket revealing a black leather bra that
held back her soft, round, generous breasts. She led Pooch to the wall where
three tiers of benches had been set up for the attending guests. There were
about 20 people in the stands. Marla led her chattel from one side of the floor
to the other for all eyes to see.
Pooch walked with her panties still pulled down around her knees and holding up
her pretty skirt to expose her female charms. Marla positioned her to one side
of the viewing stands facing a wall as she had done upstairs. Marla informed her
guests that they were most welcome to examine the slave before she was taken to
center stage for her punishment session. By the time her turn came up Pooch had
been examined by almost all.
The Playroom looked darker than ever. Everything was in shadow except for a
small area in which the spotlights were centered. Spotlights had been positioned
against all four wall at ceiling level so that any given spot on the dungeon
floor could be lit up from all angles while not showing the clutter of cables,
cameras and people throughout the large room. Their privacy would be maintained.
Marla left Pooch alone and walked under the spotlights at center
stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Marla spoke with well practiced elocution. "Tonight you
will receive an unexpected treat. In addition to the public punishment of the
toilet slave, Pooch, the owner of this most attractive pair of twins," the
spotlight landed on Garret's latex clad beauties, "has agreed to a demonstration
of their exemplary training. These girls have been inseparable all of their
lives but tonight their attachment to each other shall be put to the test. Each
has been fitted with a Texas Longhorn dildo, the tip needle sharp. Their wrists
are fastened to their collars, behind their necks, to expose their bodies
completely to the assault that is to come. The contest will be which one will
succeed in pulling out both the other's nipple rings using the point of the
horn. The winner will be spared the painful mutilation. The loser will be
stripped naked, suspended by her udders and given one hundred strokes of the
cane for your enjoyment.  She will then have to endure reconstruction of the
damage done by tearing out the rings without the benefit of anesthetic." "There
are rules in this contest... Neither one can attack the other's head, in any
way, and they may not step outside of the ten foot by ten foot square that's
been drawn on the floor. Any violation will be whistled by the referee and the
offending slut will step out of the ring and wait to be whipped with this lash
that I hold in my hand. These tails are braided buffalo hide each a full
thirty-six inches long and each tip ending with a one once lead weight.  This
whip will ensure that the rules are respected. And that a violation of the rules
will result in lasting damage and a real disadvantage to the offender. This whip
will easily cut the latex outfits and go much deeper.  With four tails, that's
the equivalent of a quarter pound of lead crashing into you at over two hundred
miles an hour. That can break bones if wielded at unpadded areas like the ribs
or the collar bone or wrist. The punishment is three strokes for the first
violation and then an additional stroke will be added for each subsequent
violation. If either of the ladies fails to cooperate for the whipping she will
immediately be turned over to the dog Kennels for termination. Let me assure you
ladies." Marla turned and looked the twins straight in the eyes. "The Kennels
are not the way you want to go. It could take years to expire...  The other will
receive the hundred strokes of the cane. You, the audience, will not be deprived
of an excellent show."
 The sisters, known only as Blondie and Blackie, in obvious reference to their
hair color were led into the arena of battle on a leash held by a large hooded
man. A man that brought to mind images of an executioner from the middle ages.
Their wrists were already secured as prescribed behind their necks. Once inside
the square, under the hot lights, the double leash was removed. The hooded
figure approached the gladiators with a pair of scissors and cut away their
latex garments around the base of each breast.
It was now revealed how confining these garments really were as ample mammaries
burst forward into freedom each nipple sporting a large 6 gauge ring. The air of
smugness that had accompanied the two beauties only a short time ago was
completely gone. They had been inseparable all their lives and now they were
about to mutilate each other, at the very least,  and possibly even cause the
death of the other if not through being gored then possibly by ending up in the
Kennels.
"Before you begin there is just one other rule. If either one of you shows the
other any compassion then the one being shown the compassion will be turned over
to the dogs. So you see doing anything other than trying to win at all cost will
be of no benefit to the one being shown the mercy but instead seal her demise.
The contest will start when the referee blows the whistle and if you hear the
whistle during your bout you will immediately stop and await instructions.
Otherwise the contest will continue without interruption until the winner is
declared."
Marla stepped aside.
The sisters' haughty looks had been transformed to wide eyed fright. One could
imagine what must have been racing through their minds as they faced each other.
Both staring at the other's pointed dildo, neither wanting to lose and yet not
wanting to mutilate the other almost as much.  What had they done to deserve
what was happening. As far as they could remember they had done nothing wrong.
The lights shining on the black latex heated their bodies and their ball gags
restricted their breathing. These factors assured that the fight would not last
too long and bore the audience. 
The hooded man blew his whistle.
Neither slave wanted to risk getting too close to the other at this early stage
and be gored early. Kicking was going to be the obvious main mode of attack.
They were both wearing identical shoes, bright red pumps with steel tipped toes,
five inch heels and inch wide ankle straps that locked the shoes to the slave's
feet. The shoes were not the kind that would allow the girls to keep their
balance very well. After they exchanged the first few quick kicks that landed
from close range and without a lot of force on each other's lower legs, Blondie
tried to take Blackie down by kicking her legs from under her from behind and
she succeeded in sending her dark haired sister hard to the concrete floor.
Blackie was able to keep her head from hitting the floor by falling on her
elbow. The price was high as she felt a shock race up to her shoulder. Her right
upper arm lit ablaze in pain as the bone cracked. As soon as Blondie recovered
her balance she started to kick her sister in the back. Blackie kicked out
wildly from the pain.
The whistle blew.
When Blackie had kicked out her foot it crossed the line on the floor. She had
to stand up and present herself to the whip. The action of meekly having to
cooperate in her own punishment was more painful because of the humiliation
involved in obeying every command so that she could be punished more painfully.
Holding up her own breasts to the whip, or bending over and spreading her legs
to present an unobstructed pathway for the whip to strike the mucous membranes
of her ass hole and vagina. The pain was horrendous, but what could compare to
the total degradation of bending at the waist and holding her ass cheeks spread
for the lash. At least she wouldn't have to use her own hands this time, since
they were fastened to her collar. Knowing from past experience that hesitation
would not work in her favor, Blackie stood up as quickly as she could, now using
her left elbow to help herself off of the floor, and went to stand where the
referee pointed to.
"Legs straight and spread wide apart. Bend right over at the waist and present
your ass."
The raven haired slave complied at once. There was no hesitation on the part of
the referee as he brought down the leaden whip across the right flank. Not only
did it punch right through the latex covering, it punched right through her skin
to the layer of fat below.
Her leg gave way and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling.
Blood oozed from the milky white fat turning it crimson... She recovered but now
bore her weight far more on her left leg. She had never felt such a forceful
blow from any whip.
Blackie trembled waiting for the next strike and praying that it would not be
directed at her more sensitive parts. The site of the impact now felt as if it
were lit on fire. The sound made by the whip as it struck her flesh was a
sickening thud. It was a dull thud and not a sharp crack because no arm could
crack this heavy whip in such a short distance to produce the supersonic speed
it takes to produce the high frequency of the cracking sound.
Blackie now understood beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that these people
were not fooling around. The slave felt a sudden rush of nausea as she realized
that there were still two more lashes coming. She began to pray out loud,
praying that her private parts be spared the whip.
The referee stepped into his second stroke and had the three foot whip wrap
around her waist and the tips strike her belly just below her navel. It was too
much for Blackie as she involuntarily felt her knees buckle. She collapsed to
her knees as the wind was knocked from her lungs.  Her eyes bulged as her brain
registered and processed the damage, sending out pain impulses to her
consciousness. Her eyes pleaded that her violation of the instruction not to
move couldn't be helped. She would get right back up. She would present her body
to the whip again. She would do it as soon as she could move.
It took Blackie another fifteen seconds to get air back into her lungs and it
was all that she could do to get to her feet. The delay irritated the referee
who figured that Blackie was just trying to kill some time. The force of the
blow that was transmitted through the muscles of her lower abdomen seriously
bruised her bladder and she lost her control. Urine flowed up and down the latex
outfit trying to find room between her skin and her clothing.
Nobody would know about her accident till some of her pee found a channel
through which to escape. The pee was tinged with red. Her belly muscle could be
seen clearly where the latex had been ripped back. It was lucky that she hadn't
been fed all day or she would have puked as well and probably suffocated on the
vomit...
The last stroke was the most devastating. All four tails sped through the air
converging right on her anus. Blackie leapt straight forward diving to the floor
landing on her udders and striking the ground with her chin. That was it, she
was done, she thought. She writhed on the floor curling up and trying to find a
way to put out the fire. She had had enough.
Blackie wanted to die right on the spot. She couldn't seriously be expected to
go back into the ring to face her sister. When Blackie heard the referee tell
her to get up and back to the ring she began to cry. She felt completely broken.
Pee flowed into the newly opened gash adding its own sting yet cleansing it at
the same time. Four ribbons of blood ran down across the inside of her thighs.
Blackie tried to hold back a bowel movement but the ruptured sphincter refused
to hold and she evacuated while squirming on the ground. Shit squeezed through
the newly opened hole in her latex outfit. Blackie didn't care what happened to
her anymore, nothing could hurt more than she hurt now. "This is the only
warning that I am going to give you today, cunt. I don't particularly like you.
If you aren't back on your feet and in that ring in exactly ten seconds I am
going to just cut loose on you with this whip... Ten... nine..."
By the count of six Blackie was on her knees completely motivated to do as
instructed.
Maybe she could still function after all. Maybe if she used the element of
surprise on her sister and caught her off guard she could gain an advantage. She
thought that if she could force Blondie out of the ring she would never stand up
to four strokes of the lead tailed whip. They both knew that the fourth stroke,
the next time, would almost certainly land on their cunts. If it had hurt her
anus so much that she wanted to die a similar stroke to the fleshy mons would
drive a girl out of her mind and into hysterics. Blackie figured that if she
could pull it off her sister would not only lose her advantage but might become
an easy win. The additional pressure of trying to straighten up forced the rest
of the stool out her back door. The live audience broke into laughter thinking
she had shit herself out of fear.
Blackie didn't care because she knew that it wasn't cowardice that had made her
shit, it was the damage caused by the whip. The slave wondered if the laughter
from the audience would give Blondie a false sense of security... She was now
certain that she had the right plan. "Five...  four..."
Blackie had staggered to her feet. The injuries to her legs made them far less
responsive and this in combination with the height of her heels made for a very
wobbly stance. She had to pull herself together, and she had to do it fast.
Blackie stumbled up to the ring, still bent over.
"Three... two..."
Blondie looked too relaxed.
"One..."
Blackie dove for Blondie's knees sacrificing her right shoulder because Blondie
wouldn't expect that... and Blackie was right. The blow landed squarely knocking
Blondie backwards and popping her right knee at the same time. Only the fact
that she had her hands cuffed behind her neck kept Blondie's head from striking
the concrete floor. How she managed to keep her feet inside the ring no one will
ever know but the first tiny movement of her right leg threw Blondie into
anguish. She couldn't get up.
Blackie felt sorry for her sister, very sorry indeed. She saw her leg lying
twisted on the ground and it sickened her, but Blackie pressed her attack.
She began to lay into Blondie's left leg, kicking it as hard as she could while
balancing on her stilettos. Blondie was kicked over and over.  The whipping had
effected Blackie more then anyone thought. Blackie was so afraid of getting the
whip on her genitals and breasts that she would have tortured to death her own
mother had she been told to. There was more muttering and giggles from the
audience as a yellow streak found its way from under Blackie's latex outfit. It
was coming from the hole over the anus.
Blackie figured that she would keep kicking her sister until she passed out and
then she could pull through her nipple rings with no struggle and less pain for
her sister.
Marla had already thought of this scenario and smiled to herself. It was one
that she had thought about and thought likely to be picked. It had an easy way
out appeal to it. The problem was, and the reason Marla was smiling was, there
was no kicking the head. The one getting the boot wouldn't likely pass out until
she had bled enough internally to cause unconsciousness. Consciousness that was
likely never to return.
Blackie's plan was about the worst there was for her sister. The irony of the
situation was delicious to Marla's jaded tastes.
There was an additional irony to the situation that Marla had not thought off
and that was that no matter how well something has been thought out it doesn't
always proceed as planned.
Blackie was trying to restrict her kicks to padded areas so she had not yet
broken any bones. On her way to kicking her sister in the shoulder Blondie
suddenly bent at her side causing Blackie's steel toe to strike Blondie on her
left earlobe, splitting it open and causing copious bleeding.
The whistle sounded and Blackie almost died on the spot. She knew what she had
inadvertently done. "Step outside the ring... cunt... and assume the same
position you were in the last time. Pity you didn't learn to respect the rules
the first time around. Now I have to increase the dose to see if you will
respond better." Gasps where heard from the audience along with some scattered
applause reaffirming exactly where Blackie stood.
This was an audience that wanted to see her hurt and she didn't doubt for a
moment that the shows producers would do everything they could to please the
spectators.
The referee walked over to her right side and then took a step back.
"Raise your head as a gesture requesting the next lash. You will be getting 4
unless you fuck up and get more." Blackie raised her head and looked right into
one of the cameras.
The audience would get a good look at her face at the moment of impact. Every
aspect of every stroke would be replayed to the closed circuit viewers. They
would see her face, they would see the site of the impact from different angles
and different speeds. Slow motion would capture the lead weights just slicing
through her skin tearing off pieces of flesh on their rough surface.
The audience would step back and clearly see the whip arching through the air
only to come down on the lower outside part of Blackie's dangling left tit. Slow
motion showed the complete distortion of the entire gland as the lead weights
pushed aside quivering flesh transferring energy throughout the whole breast and
smashing capillaries throughout the entire organ. The poor quivering slave girl
collapsed to her knees and rolled up into a ball trying her best to soothe the
damaged tit. She even tried to hold it between her elbows, but to no avail. It
was like the whole tit had exploded sending out pain from everywhere. The
referee was not pleased and pulled Blackie's head back using her hair.
He slapped her hard with an open hand. "Get the fuck back up before you really
piss me off."
The invited guests all applauded as if on cue. "If this was just the first
stroke there was no way she would survive this" she thought.
To stand back up only to catch another lash more painful than the last or to
just give up and surrender to the pain was not an easy decision to make. She was
very aware that her pussy had not yet been whipped and knew she would have to
hold it open for the lash.
Blackie then thought that he would probably strike her other breast next and
maybe she could take it. Blackie staggered back to her feet. She got back into
the most vulnerable position and looked up into the camera.  Blackie clearly
heard the whistle of the tails as they flew right into her right nipple which
had been pointing almost straight down. The large mass of the tails flattened
Blackie's ample bosom right to her rib cage before it bounced back. Only by
steeling herself with all of her might had Blackie stayed on her stilettos. Any
appearance of a functional nipple was erased in one swoop. What remained was
just a spot that had been gouged out roughly and was covered in dripping blood.
Amazingly the ring had stayed in. This time too, it had felt like the whole
organ had exploded and not just the impact site. Looking down Blackie saw that
her left bag was already completely purple and swelling fast. The sight of her
right nipple made her want to puke. Despite twisting and writhing to distract
from some of the pain she managed to roughly maintain her position.
"I think I will make some temporary changes for this next stroke," snickered the
referee.
He removed the ball gag from Blackie's drooling mouth and released her wrists
from the collar.
"Now ladies and gentlemen, I will endeavor to show you the level of obedience
expected of a well trained slave. Notice I didn't say fully trained since there
is no such thing as a fully trained slave. It's a process that must be a ongoing
one."
"Slave I will now use the last two strokes to whip your cunt."
Without the gag Blackie began to bawl. She knew what was coming though she had
never imagined it. The referee undid the strap holding the longhorn dildo in
position against her crotch and pulled a small folding knife from his pocket.
>From pubic bone to tail bone the sharp edge sliced through the latex and
exposing the now naked flesh of her meticulously shaved pussy to the direct
assault of the whip. Some of the more sensitive guests became queasy even
bringing up their hands to cover their eyes. They had already seen the damage
done to protected flesh. "You will now reach back with both of your hands and
spread your pussy wide open for the whip.  You will then look up once again,
this time I will be standing in front of you, and you will ask me to whip your
pussy. I believe that you are familiar with the routine." 
"Y-y-y-y-y-es M-m-master," Blackie stuttered out between sobs.
Blondie remained on the floor praying that somehow Blackie would avoid the
Kennels and that this nightmare would end. She too cried but she cried for her
sister.
"If you try to avoid the whip you will get an additional stroke. I will let you
collapse after the lash but you will have only one minute to collect yourself
and ask for the next stroke. If the clock runs out then so will your time. Your
sister will be hung for her caning and you will be off to the dogs. Now ask for
it... BITCH!!" 
She didn't even remember how or why she had gotten into her predicament but it
had to be coming to an end. She had been at her Master's side, along with her
sister, for so long and had served him without question to the best of her
ability. Why was he doing this to them now? Why was she being butchered in front
of these people. The last 5 strokes of the lead tailed whip had had to penetrate
the tough latex of her body suit, now she spread her bare flesh to the whip so
it could rip through parts far more sensitive. It was all she could do to just
try to stop any thoughts at all and for a second let her mind go blank.
 "Please Master, whip my pussy I have been bad and need correction."
SWISHHHH!!xxx
For a third time the tails whistled through the air only this time they raced to
the girl's absolutely most tender spot. Striking from in front of Blackie the
man brought the whip down so that the bottom tip of her tailbone was the pivot
point as the lead weights snapped around the length of her crack and slammed
into her unprotected clit. 
For the television audience it happened close up and in slow motion. 
For Blackie her life flashed before her eyes. It looked like almost half of her
clit was ripped off as well as chunks of the hood.
The whole area between her clit hood and vagina turned a deep purple color.
Blood broke through in spots. Worse... the tails cracked the pelvic bone through
the crotch. She immediately crumpled to the floor writhing in agony. A timer was
started. Blackie's fate would be determined in less than one minute.
Blondie watched her sweet sister writhe in severe pain on the ground. She could
feel her pain as well as her own. Her mind tried to think of a solution to their
dilemma but if Blackie didn't get up and ask for yet another stroke to her
mangled cunt anything that she thought of would be of no use. Somehow if they
were both to survive, Blackie simply had to get up.
Many years of handling pain came to Blackie's aid. Though she had never felt
anything quite like this she was not prepared to give up yet. At the thirty
second mark she began trying to get to her feet. Sharp pain shot through the
heart of her pelvis. On her hands and knees she planted her right foot on the
ground and tried to push up but that put an unbalanced stress on the bone
pushing the crack apart and sending shock waves of pain to the brain. Pain just
too great to get through. She put her knees together and used her left arm to
steady herself and help push her back till with both feet together she was
squatting on the floor. "Twenty seconds," the referee reminded. Blackie now
pushed up with both legs and with even pressure on both sides of her hips she
slowly, carefully rose. It seemed even most of the degenerate audience was
beginning to root for the plucky slave. Blondie had made her decision as to what
she would do if her sister ever made it back into the ring, but first she had to
make it.
Her back side now turned to the audience Blackie placed her hands on her ass
cheeks and started to bend at the waist. As her head began to inch down towards
the ground she moved the toes of her shoes so they pointed out, then she put her
weight on the balls of her feet and turned her heels out, then her toes again.
Her legs spread apart while keeping equal pressure on her pelvis. It still hurt
terribly but she could just manage it. Though her legs were not spread nearly as
wide apart as they had been before it was the best she could do. Blackie lifted
her head. Her hands shook almost beyond control as she spread her sex for yet
another blow from the weighted whip. Her voice shook like her hands and legs.
"I have been b-b-b-bad, p-p-p-please whip my p-p-p-pussy so I could learn to be
b-b-better."
Garret had promised an exhibition of obedience and it seemed as though he had
delivered.
SWISHHHH!!
Again the whip flew down between her legs but this time the blow was not quite
dead center, either because of compassion by the referee or more likely the
trembling of the wounded slave but the lead tipped tails collided with the very
top of the inside of her thigh and only after continued on to strike the
posterior edge of her vagina. Again Blackie howled from the impact and collapsed
to the floor but the thicker layer of soft tissue kept further damage to a
minimum but looking worse because it precipitated a lot of the previously
bruised flesh to split open causing some short lived but profuse bleeding.
For the people watching in the Playroom what they had seen already had eclipsed
all their previous live experience. Sure most had seen videos of women being
tortured, even tortured to death, but it didn't have the impact that this did.
Here just 20 feet away they actually felt the contact of each stroke through the
clear sound of flying metal striking naked flesh. They actually felt the sound
as the wave of energy struck their bodies. It was very much a low thud. No sharp
crack of a light weight tail.  Some, sitting in a narrow area were sprayed by
drops of blood as they flew off the end of the whip along with tiny bits of
flesh. They saw first hand the impact had on the slave's entire body, how it
convulsed in pain and how it writhed in agony. They saw her struggle to get up.
They smelled her fear. They heard her frantic, heavy, breathing. Her heart beat
reached 200 beats per minute. But what they would never forget, what they would
remember always, was the sound of her shaking, quivering voice asking that it be
done all over again. Hands everywhere, disappeared underneath clothing. The
decorum that had been observed up till then began to quickly disappear when most
of the audience decided that since the whole show was designed as a masturbatory
fantasy that it didn't make sense not to masturbate, otherwise the whole point
would be missed. Common concealment gave way to open displays when people
noticed their neighbors doing it.  They had reached a new level of being cool.
They could masturbate in public and still remain dignified. No one had any
desire to jump anyone else's bones but Blackie's. She had captured their
imagination... for now.
The first one to realize that she had caught a break was Blackie.
The blow contributed substantially to her considerable discomfort but after
feeling all the ones that came before, this one wasn't quite as bad. By the time
she was pushing herself up of the floor she knew she would be going back into
the ring to maim her sister. Getting up, though wasn't any easier then it had
been a minute ago. With a lot of effort Blackie rose from the ashes of her
demise. What she was going to do besides knowing that she had to walk the few
steps back into the ring. She was in so much pain that she put out of her mind
the idea of launching any more kicks to her sister's prone body. Blackie knew
that she was in no danger of loosing to Blondie since her sister couldn't get up
off the floor, but the only way Blackie could win was if Blondie didn't move at
all. If she moved at all there was no way Blackie could spear her nipple ring
with the dildo. All of a sudden Blackie didn't feel as safe from the overall
defeat as she just had. The only way to get her sister's nipple rings out was to
grab them with her hands, even though they would soon be reattached to her
collar. Down on the ground with her back on the floor she would have very little
advantage over her sister and maybe no advantage at all. The thought that this
could be only the beginning of her beating attained a new prominence in her
mind. It was shared with dozens of other repeating thoughts like the pain from
the whip and how she could do what she intended to her own flesh and blood.
Flesh and blood that was nearly identical to her own. Different only from the
effects of different experiences and not different through genetics.  They were,
after all, identical twins. The steps to getting back in the ring began.
The referee again locked Blackie's wrists to the back of her collar. Then he
yanked her back to her feet by her right arm getting a new scream of pain. It
was silenced with the gag forced back between her teeth.  Blackie didn't resist.
The worst part was when the Texas long horn phallus was strapped back on. One
strap ran from the front of a waist belt through the crotch and then up the back
side of the waist belt. The referee pulled the waist belt very tight but when
tightening the belt between her legs he even pushed Blackie forward with a foot
planted in the small of her back all the while pulling the other way with both
hands around the end of the strap. The hard leather bit deep into the masticated
tissue. The pain was so great she could not stand upright long. Staggering back
to the ring Blackie fell to her knees at the first opportunity and then layed
all the way down rolling over towards her sister, hoping she wouldn't realize
her intentions till it was too late. After a single revolution she bumped into
the bottom of Marla's black boot. "Ladies and gentlemen, due to the extent of
the slave sisters' injuries this fight cannot go on in the way that it was
originally intended and in fact would end up boring you to tears it is better
that it be called off." A string of boo's emanated from the gallery.
"Please, please, people, you will not be short changed. Instead of having to
declare one a winner and the other a loser, the decision of the owner is to
label them both losers, as indeed they are. Instead of only one of the pair
being hung by her breasts and caned they will both get a hundred sweet strokes.
And so that you are all aware that the caning isn't being just staged it's you,
my house guests, that will do the honors.  Afterwards they will each be fastened
appropriately to a horse and be made available for your use throughout the
remainder of the evening. The owner requests that you assist in helping them
realize again that they are nothing but a pair of slaves. You may have noticed
their arrogant attitude as they walk around freely with their noses in the air.
It was setting a terrible example to the other whores and the danger had to be
stopped.  Slaves have no business walking around putting on airs. Whore slaves
need to know exactly what the are. By morning they should both know their place
once more in the hierarchy of life leading up to humanity."
Both Blackie and Blondie felt crushed by Marla's words. They hated her so much
both thinking that she had gotten to Garret and had been the reason he was so
upset with them.
He used to encourage that very cockiness as a display of his own power and that
his personal slaves would rank much higher then any of the rest and were his
slaves not because they were restrained and forced but because they enjoyed
being his slaves. Marla had to be the reason things had suddenly changed. Why
they would now be placed on a level just below that of a rat. When a rat is
killed the method is usually chosen for its efficiency. When you kill a slave
you do it slowly and with a great deal of pain. Hearing that the purpose of the
coming events was to drive their social status to the very bottom level, toilet
slaves to a pack of dogs.  They had enjoyed their ride at the upper level of
slavery and were about to be pushed all the way back down. If they were given a
choice they would have picked another alternative but in Garret's domain death
was usually the result of a long stay in the Kennel.
4 lengths of rope were produced, 3/8" hemp, and both the referee and Marla began
binding the base of their breasts using a slip knot after 2 wraps with the rope.
Once a knot was pulled as tight as it could be a nail was pushed through the
rope, just above the knot to prevent it from loosening past the point where it
was. The rope was then wrapped around the breast a second time around the middle
of the bulging balloons with copious slack left between the tie at the base and
the tie around the middle. When suspended the slack would allow the sacks to
stretch substantially before the loops of rope at the base took some of her
weight. The system not only allowed a great deal of stretching but it ensured
that the ropes could not be pulled off no matter how violently the two slaves
might struggle. Both Blondie and Blackie, now with their udders tightly tied
off, were dragged by their collars till they each rested below a spreader bar
connected by a steel cable to a winch on the ceiling. At each end of the
spreader bar was an eye bolt to which the tit ropes were fastened. It wasn't
enough to just suspend them by their breasts. If the punishment could be made
more painful it would be, and so their breasts were pulled hard towards opposite
ends of the spreader bar bringing the two slave sisters to wail and moan even
when still on the ground. At the push of a button the winches came to life as
did the vocal cords of the two slaves. With so little load the cable rolled up
fast jerking them first on to their feet and then into the air. The slip knots
pulled tight and both Marla and the referee went over with two more nails in
their hands once again to push them through the rope at this point so that the
knot could not loosen.
The milk bags bulged and then turned purple. The slaves forgot about everything
else.
Even Blondie's torn knee stopped bothering her although it too had been yanked
out of position and now hung from her upper leg with no support. All they felt
was fire on their chests at a pain level that neither could stand much longer.
Their beautiful bosoms were being pulled out by the roots.
Silently they prayed for the caning to begin as quickly as possible.
All Marla, and most of the viewers felt was tremendous excitement between their
legs.
With every member of the audience entitled to administer 5 strokes of the cane
there was no thought of feeling disappointed because both unlucky slaves had
kept their nipples.
They would probably disappear during the beatings anyway, after all only the
neck and up were out of bounds to the canes.
Two deep buckets were brought forward by Marla and the referee, turned
executioner.
They held a half dozen canes each, soaking in a vinegar, brine solution. The
dangling slaves didn't notice as all their attention was being focused on their
elongated bags. After putting down her bucket Marla gave Blondie a firm push
setting her swinging and twisting in the air, and sending the pain level of her
chest spiking higher. The referee got Blackie's attention with a swift kick to
the center-front of her left thigh with his work boot.
"Do I have your attention?" shouted Marla.
Blackie imagined that she was in hell. Such pain wasn't possible in the real
world while remaining conscious. Worse was that she knew soon the pain in her
breasts would spread to the rest of her body. Blackie had only been caned once
before and she remembered every agonizing second of the experience. She had
gotten 20 strokes but thought she would go out of her mind from the pain. And
she wasn't hanging by her tits then either, but in the relative comfort of
kneeling over a caning block. "It wasn't possible to survive 100," she thought.
Marla had gained their attention.
"First you will be stripped naked, most people enjoy seeing the marks that they
leave. Later they can sit back and look at you thinking proudly that they had
left those marks. Besides it hurts more without the latex protection... Right
now you probably think that you are feeling about as much pain as you can
handle. You're right, but there is a solution to the problem. You will soon
receive an injection of stimulants that will keep you wide awake and interested.
4 foot rattan canes that have been soaked in brine will be used. The brine helps
keep the canes supple and the cuts sterile. It also makes each cut feel like
it's ablaze. The canes will be wielded with both arms much like they were the
last time you were caned only this time they will be able to reach all those
tender spots that were safe then. You didn't even have your legs spread for that
one, and your tits were buried on the blocks, shielded by your backs. Now
they're all stretched out and waiting to be whipped. I hope you two enjoyed your
last taste of the cane because this time it will be a lot worse. Hell, you
probably already hurt more... Right now you are probably imagining how much the
cane will hurt when it lands between your legs and crushes your clit hood and
everything immediately underneath. Make no mistake you will feel the cane there
but have you ever felt it across the soles of your feet.  After a half a dozen
across each foot it will be a week before the pain begins to fade but you will
still be required to walk. Barefoot, if your feet don't fit your shoes anymore.
Blondie! You will be on your feet way sooner than you think, bum knee and all.
You will each get 100 strokes of the cane. If I were you I wouldn't move around
too much or those bags are likely to tear right off."
Tears rolled down two pairs of eyes. The pain from their stretched and
constricted milk sacs was overwhelming. Both sex slaves hoped to feel the cane
if only to distract them from the torture of their ample bosoms.  It hadn't
occurred to them yet that it would be those very same breasts that would get the
most attention from the cane. The skin above their sternum and underneath their
tits felt just about ready to tear. The glands themselves pounded with pain at
every heart beat. Severely congested they were ripping the skin from the inside
with the weight of their bodies pushing everything inside their breasts forward
and making them ready to explode. Their color had changed to a vivid deep
purple. Veins pushed against the skin leaving their impression on the surface.
Some burst from the intense pressure leaving bruises everywhere around the bags.
Breathing was labored, every slight movement causing an increased sensation of
bursting organs and splitting skin.
As the final acts of preparation the hooded referee cut of the dangling slaves'
latex uniforms leaving their glistening, wet, skin exposed to the direct assault
of the cane, and removed their gags. No one would be deprived of hearing the
music of their shrieks and screams. A caning like the one Blondie and Blackie
were about to received is more closely associated with Muslim fundamentalist
countries where a serious offense might lead to a sentence of 20 strokes, and
that would be for a man. These rather small girls would be getting 100 each.
Their only advantage was that they weren't schooled in the ways of caning and
some of the punishment would be administered by women, who couldn't possibly
wield the pole as hard as men. Otherwise they would both have been handed a
death sentence.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Marla started up again. "Since some of you are
inexperienced at this, let me demonstrate the proper way to use this." Marla
picked up a cane from one of the brine buckets and stepped behind Blondie. With
a scream Marla brought the cane from as far back as she could reach whistling
through the air and brought it down using her right arm, squarely across the
middle of the slave's back. Reflexively the slave girl arched her back giving
the slip knots, holding her udders, a good yank. A scream emanated from the
previously quiet, but now gag free, slave.
Damage done by the cane is mostly invisible although it will raise heavy welts.
It damages muscles, blood vessels and nerves, well below skin level without
cutting the skin too much. This markedly reduces the chance of infection but
increases the level, and length of time, that pain is felt. Slow motion cameras
have shown how the impact of the cane sends a shock wave to flesh far from the
impact site and bone bruising is common along with deep muscle bruising.
"That's the wrong way," explained Marla to a now very interested audience. "It's
wrong because I held the cane in one hand and couldn't get a lot of my energy
into it... You must use both hands on your instrument in order to use the
strength of your whole body. Now watch me again." Marla stepped back away from
Blondie by a full step. With the cane held firmly in both hands, the way one
would hold a baseball bat, Marla twisted her entire body along with her arms,
away from Blondie. Then with a second Banshee scream she stepped towards Blondie
while simultaneously bringing around the cane driven by her whole torso as well
as her arms and shoulders. This time when it landed the crowd saw the poor slave
girl go into hysterics. Blood vessels broke, spilling their contents and showing
massive bruising along the length of the cane's mark. "That's how it's done. Now
if you could form two lines, one at each of these advertisements for the need
for regular discipline." "You should count yourselves extremely lucky cunts. If
you had gotten the Kennel you would be being strapped down to have your lower
legs and hands amputated so that you could only get around by crawling and pose
no threat to either the dogs or to escape. It also makes sure that you can only
satisfy the dogs' sexual needs with your stinking holes. No hand jobs.  As long
as you satisfy the dogs' needs then you live and when they get bored of you they
tear you apart knowing that a fresh face will replace the one they get rid of...
So... When I tell you to spread your legs for the cane just think of how lucky
you are getting off so lightly. Learn your lesson well my dears, because next
time it will get rough."
"Pooch! Marla shouted. "Some of these people have never caned a slave before and
I don't think it would benefit the twin's learning process if we had people
coming up who couldn't deliver a descent stroke. Don't you agree, SHIT!?"
Pooch was jolted away from her little world of roaming, squeezing, twisting,
pinching hands, to trying to grasp what her god had just said.  The spotlights
moved to bathe her in light. The question begged the answer, Yes. Pooch replied,
"Yes Mistress."
"How could we get these people some practice, SKANK!?" 
What other slave could be practiced on Pooch had no way of knowing, and so again
the question begged the answer and her reply was: "They could practice by caning
Pooch."
Marla's heart was gladdened when she heard the replies. Pooch was learning fast
and showing no signs of wanting her own destruction. She also knew and thought
about how fine a line she had to stride if she was to completely break Pooch's
spirit while at the same time strengthen her instinct for self preservation. It
would be her ultimate goal to create a slave that would do anything at all just
to preserve its own life. Not to attain some improvement, a respite from her
miserable condition, but just so she could continue to go on with no light at
the end of the tunnel.  Marla was sure that Pooch was such an animal.
"Good idea." "Would you remove the cunt's cuffs?" Marla asked the referee. "When
the cuffs are off you will strip off that pretty dress, fold it up neatly and
hand it to the referee. You will be wearing it again some other day. Then I want
you to take one big step away from that wall, turn around and face it again,
spread your slave legs wide and put the palms of your hands on the wall. That
way those that want to practice a side stroke can use your ass, those that want
to practice a straight down chop will have your back and those that would like
to practice their golf swing can come up between your legs."
Pooch obeyed her Mistress's command and soon stood naked except for her shoes
stockings and garter belt, legs spread wide revealing all to the spectators and
cameras.
Bent 90 degrees at the waist hands pushing against the wall she felt so
vulnerable, so exposed. It had been such a short time since she had last tasted
the cane but in many ways it was an eternity. The anticipation of the
devastating cane made her momentarily forget her pains like the one from her
swollen womb and overfilled bladder. Remembering her last run in with the cane
Pooch figured she wouldn't last long.
SWOOOSHH!! Pooch heard. She clenched tight waiting to feel the blow. CRACK!! She
heard this as well and it was all but a confirmation that the cane had landed,
Pooch screamed. She remembered how she had screamed the last time she was caned.
Everybody burst out in laughter at the stupid slave whore. She'd only been hit
with a plastic shower rod cover. It couldn't even leave a bruise. "Look how
stupid she is. She's obviously sex slave material." "She's lucky to be treated
as well as she is."
The spectators justified their joy in Pooch's total humiliation with these
thoughts. They thought she was getting off lightly so far. Pooch could do
nothing but cry while maintaining her position. Even though they were
ineffective in creating pain the light, hollow, plastic canes continued to rain
down all over her body as men and women mocked her and told her that next time
they would just use the real canes and how they just couldn't wait to see Pooch
fuck up.
A feeling of intense loneliness overcame Pooch. No one else could even imagine
how completely alone she felt. She was alone in the middle of a mob that only
wanted to see her suffer and in fact had come specifically for that reason. Just
as were, who knows how many, television viewers. They all wanted to see the same
thing. They wanted to see her suffer and they all justified it because she
deserved everything she got. What a stupid, filthy animal she was and she most
certainly must have broken some pretty serious rules, even if she was never
caught.
Pooch knew she had no escape at all. Why didn't they just kill her and get it
over with she thought. There was no great knight that was going to save her and
no friend that would even miss her, let alone, look for her.
Pooch winced as an upper cut slash caught her naked pussy. It stung a bit.
Nobody had told her she wasn't allowed to cry, yet. It was all that she could do
but to show everyone how sad and miserably she was. Maybe they would get their
fill of her crying, and stop torturing her. She was certain that it wouldn't
work but what else could she do? Even though the blows raining down on her were
just a mockery she couldn't help but feel the hostility that her tormentors had
towards her and how they seemed to wish that the light plastic tubes were indeed
heavy, brine soaked cane. The unconcealed blood lust of these people was bone
chilling.
Marla seemed satisfied with how this scenario was evolving. Pooch had been
reduced to having the will of a dish rag and completely stripped of her dignity
even before her official punishment had begun, while at the same time the
excitement level of her invited guests had been whipped into a frenzy. She was
sure it would be a memorable caning for all involved.
Blondie and Blackie tried to stay as still as possible. Every little movement
increased the already unbearable pain and made them feel that their poor
ballooned and stretched bags were close to being pulled off. The television
spotlights returned to the quiet twins.
Before coming into view by any of the television cameras each guest was handed a
loose fitting hood to protect their identity. They would then choose a cane from
one of the brine buckets and receive their instructions from Marla. Marla wasn't
going to let this deteriorate into a free for all.  It would have offended her
sense of order. Since this was a bonus that the guests had not expected she had
no trouble convincing them to go along with her instructions.
To save time and intensify the experience further for the twins Marla arranged
it so that two of the guests would be beating them at the same time. The first
pair to cane Blackie were husky tall men. Being the strongest looking of the
bunch one would apply the cane across the strong muscles of her back while the
other would beat her between her belly button and the front of her thighs. The
idea was to alternate the strokes from front to back so she would feel a steady
cascade with no time to recover.  The men, now true believers in the rightness
of what they were doing, gave Blackie no quarter. The canes slammed into her
feminine, soft, body leaving trails of ugly welts and broken skin. Though she
had experienced many whippings as a slave none had been as vicious and brutal as
this.
Quickly she saw the pattern and tried to desperately twist and sway out of the
way in complete futility. Her wrists fastened behind her neck she could not
offer up another part of her body to take the blow. Her struggle pulled the slip
knots around her purple jugs even tighter but she didn't even notice. When one
of the blows landed just above the spot she had been hit with the lead tipped
whip she convulsively brought up her knees trying to curl up into a little ball,
curling and stretching her back for the blow that came after, right across her
kidneys. This brought down her legs again as her back arched convulsively. Her
body now swung wildly from her sideways pointing tits.
When they were done the two men were satisfied that they had indeed impressed
upon the slave the importance of proper deportment. Blackie just hung their with
her eyes closed and her lips moving in silent prayer. 90 more were still to
come.
It was now Blondie's turn for some attention. It would be her tender, plump and
unmarked nether regions that would give her a howling introduction to the joys
of the cane. Marla had a couple of taller men, whom she knew were fine golfers,
administer this anticipated, but, by the poor girls very dreaded, part of their
caning. Like before one man stood in front of Blondie and one stood behind.
Marla instructed her to spread her legs to the sides paying no heed to the pain
it would cause her mangled knee. Marla had been told that these were good and
obedient slaves. She was going to find out how obedient they were right now.
As Blondie spread her legs, gritting her teeth in pain, Marla placed the backs
of her hands against the insides of Blondie's white, piss soaked thighs and
pushed them farther apart.
"That's where you keep them. I don't want your fat flabby thighs getting in the
way of the cane when it's aiming for a target far more interesting. Can you
imagine how it's going to feel when that same cane lands here..?"
Marla now used her fingers to tease Blondie's delicate dark inner pussy lips
apart. Marla smiled to herself as she gently pulled on them to expose her
vagina. Her wet vagina.
"You're wet!" Marla announced to the world.
Blondie felt sick when she heard that. It couldn't be because she was aroused,
fuck no, she was terrified. Her stomach heaved but she was empty.
Marla began using the tips of her fingers to walk her hand back to Blondie's
crinkled brown ass hole. She tickled it with a finger nail. "This will make a
challenging, but very sweet target." "I thought that there wasn't any point
keeping everyone waiting so you are going to have your private parts whipped
first. It's going to be interesting to see if this gentleman can get your
shitter to invert after only five strokes. As for this area," she moved her hand
to Blondie's clit hood and started teasing the little nub. "I just want to see
the colors you're going to display here," and she circled the area from the top
of her clit hood to just before her anus. "These are not very big targets so I
don't want you moving around. If you are lucky the second stroke will hit before
you feel the pain of the first and you'll be able to keep your legs spread open
till after the second strike. If you close up neither stroke will count. You
will have thirty seconds between each pair of strokes to get your legs back into
the position they are in now."
Cameras zoomed in for the best possible view of the selected area.
The two men that would wield the canes carefully measured their stokes, bringing
up he canes several times to just touch the flesh of the terrified girl,
adjusting their position so the tip would just land on the right spot. Marla
nodded her head.
WHHUUUP!!
The man standing behind her swung his cane through the gap between Blondie's
legs connecting right over the clit hood.
WHHUUUP!!
The man in front struck the waiting anus. Mercifully the two strokes did come in
such quick succession that
Blondie was able to keep her legs apart long enough for both strokes to do their
damage, but just barely.
With no regard to the pain in her knee the dangling slave brought her legs
together and pulled her thighs up to her belly. With the movement the knots
around her bags slid tighter.
At first she let out a loud yelp followed my a continuous owwwww, owwww.
"Get them apart," Marla reminded. "That was only the first."
The home audience watched the replay in slow motion video. As soon as Blondie
began to spread her legs for the next blow everyone could see the new colors. It
was as though an artist had just applied a brush stroke of purples and reds.
There was the same touch of gloss from the dampness. Now when she began
spreading her legs she couldn't stay still. Blondie was shaking all over. The
blow to her anus had been so hard it had ruptured the top layer of her strong
sphincter muscle. If her poop chute was to invert it would only happen if the
muscle snapped apart; otherwise it would try to hold everything shut
reflexively, and her lower bowel would never see the light of day. If she could
avoid needing to be sewn back together taking a crap would be a study in agony.
Her mind raced so fast that Blondie thought about needing to be sewn back
together, and figured she would never survive it. She figured there would be no
anesthetic for stitches. She prayed there would be anesthesia when her knee was
repaired.
Both Marla and the referee/executioner tried to hold the whimpering girl steady.
WHUUUMP!!
WHUUUMP!!
Came the next two blows with a similar result although the girl's shaking made
the canes both land to the right of their intended targets.  Not by much but by
just enough to lay another line of reds and purples on either side of the first
tripling the width of the affected area. Both her inner lips were bruised with
inch wide welts running back from the tips of the canes, widest and most swollen
at the very tip and tapering out slowly.  This time Blondie couldn't control
herself at all not only curling up her thighs again and this time twisting her
body from side to side trying anything to distract herself from the pain in her
cunt, even if it had to be done by trying to twist her swollen purple melons out
of the grip of the ropes. The bowstring taut boobs stretched a fraction more and
it felt like the skin would soon split at the sights of the ties. There was no
more yelp but  a pained howl that went on and on. When her chief tormentors went
to help her spread her legs Blondie just curled up tighter trying to resist.
Marla wasn't as impressed by the slave's training as she had been earlier.
"It seems like this cunt has stopped obeying. I guess we'll be starting over
again. This time though she will have her legs pulled apart by a couple of
winches that you see connected to the ceiling. "
A rope sling was fashioned around each of her feet and a hook on the end of two
cables went around a piece of rope running across to top of each foot. As the
winches began to turn, new shrieks came from Blondie's throat. She felt the pain
in her knee again. The ropes around her mammaries tightened more as she
frantically twisted her upper body left, right and left again.
"Bwaaaa!!, bwaaa!!! oh ...bwaaaa!!... Oh, please, pleeeease have mercy, please
have mercy, bwaaaa!!
"We will start from the beginning as you have been told."
"Gentlemen, you may now strike her again in any way you please. This time with
no pattern. We'll soon see how she likes that. Oh and I suggest that you finish
quickly, before too much blood gets a chance to leak out and things get very
messy."
Blondie's mind was now racing at an even faster clip. Not only was she already
in delirious pain but they were now going to tear her tight crack apart.
When the cameras zoomed in to give alternating close up views of her ass hole
and cunt many of the viewers shut their eyes.
With a three inch wide band between her legs already brutalized by the wet
canes' blows each new swing broke through the skin first exposing the white
fatty layer and then turning almost instantly red with seeping blood. Her nub
and clit hood didn't split on the next impact but swelled up immensely, and
looked to have gone black in color. Swollen to the size of a grape, Blondie's
clit pushed back her hood exposing itself directly to the cane.
On the next stroke it split.
Her little brown shit hole did poorly, as well. Despite his best efforts the man
applying the can to her anus couldn't get the tip to land on the exact same spot
all the time. The tissues swelled up all around the edge of the target and when
the cane would strike the swollen mass, the membrane would break every time.
For the final stroke fresh canes were pulled from the brine bucket, just
dripping with salt and vinegar.
Already the salt deposited on earlier cuts was drying the tissues and shrinking
them opening up the wounds. Marla shoved smelling salts under Blondie's nose to
clear her head for the last cut of this series.
Blondie jerked her head back as the blessed feeling of fading away disappeared,
replaced by unwelcome alertness.
The hooded executioner picked up a rag and patted it up and down the slaves
crack soaking up the blood so the last swats wouldn't splash the crimson fluid
all over the guests.
WHUUUMP, WHUUUMP!!
The last two strokes came in quick succession eliciting the loudest scream yet
from the shattered slave. The pain was so intense she didn't notice any of her
other pains for several minutes after the last stroke of the canes. Only after
it died down could she again notice the throbbing, bursting and pinching pain in
her udders, the tender swelling pain on her still expanding labia or the aching
throughout her spine because the pulling of the bags caused her back to arch
backwards severely. Blondie couldn't see what her most private parts looked like
and that was a good thing.
In fact the entire region around her anal ring had ballooned so much that it was
hard to tell that there was a passage there. There was little to distinguish
between the appearance of mucous membrane and skin.  Both were black. Blood ran
everywhere dripping straight down to the floor or running down her legs to the
floor.
Blackie saw every stroke that her sister had taken. There is something to be
said for not knowing your fate and right now Blackie would rather have not known
hers. She had survived the lead whip, but she had done so because the number of
strokes was limited. One hundred seemed as unbearable as one thousand. She new
she would break.
Blondie's crack whipping wasn't yet complete. Marla went over to fetch the
toilet brush Pooch used for bathing and dipped it in the burning ointment. When
the brush contacted Blondie's shredded cunt she let out an animal scream and
passed out. It would take a full five minutes to reacquaint Blondie with
consciousness, and when she did awaken she thought she was burning in hell and
began to scream again hysterically. The executioner used the same rag he had
used earlier and held it shoved into the burning crotch flesh applying pressure
to stop the bleeding.
Marla was glad she had got this part of their punishment over with, She had
worried that if it were left till the end the slaves might not give their best
performance. Marla rung her hands in anticipation as she turned toward a totally
terrorized Blackie.
"Now it's your turn," she smiled. "I think we'll do those milk sacks of yours."
Marla strode over while her assistant continued to hold the rag against
Blondie's crotch. Her screams were dying down not only because she was
increasingly growing more hoarse but because she had expended so much of her
energy in trying to distract herself away from the terrible burning by trying to
hurt her own tits but it was futile. The torment emanating from down below would
not let itself be diminished. So her twisting and squirming settled down from
complete exhaustion and not because she hurt less. The bleeding was not severe
and was soon stopped by the pressure.
Using the tip of her own cane, one with a gleaming silver sharpened point, she
tapped the end of the instrument lightly against well exposed inside bottom edge
of Blackies right sack. She tapped the cane between the two loops of coarse hemp
rope that bound it to one of the ends of the pole which currently held her well
off the ground and tits stretched sideways and up. Marla saw how the skin was
ready to split and once it started Blackie's own weight would cause it to rip
further. The caning would leave terrible scares as a lifetime reminder that she
was no more then the lowest slave. Blackie had been injected earlier with a
timed release amphetamine that would kick in at any minute.  The slave girls
were often injected with amphetamines before being displayed to make them seem
more alive and with it. Today the injections were given to help keep Blackie and
Blondie conscious during their ordeal and feeling the pain at a higher than
normal intensity level.
Marla now brought the tip of the cane just below the nipple.
Blackie, who was trying to keep perfectly still gritted her teeth.
Marla poked around the expanded arola just lightly pushing with the tip.
Blackie began to get increasingly tense. Not only did it hurt she knew this was
nothing compared to what she would be getting.
Marla put the point through the heavy steel ring in her nipple and gave it a
good tug throwing the suspended slave into a panic. Then she just pulled out.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this exhibition had been set up with the express
intention of seeing at least two and possible three nipple rings being torn out
through the nipple flesh."
Marla twirled her cane around now holding it by it's pointy end and exposing the
hook screwed into the other end. She now brought up the hook end and grabbed the
end of Blackie's right nipple ring. and began pulling with a hard and ever
increasing force. Soon the end of the milk sack looked more like the tip of an
old rocket with a painted nose cone.
Just when Blackie thought things just couldn't get any worse they did. Now her
focus of attention shifted from her aching torso to something she could clearly
see.
" It seems like there may be a new carrer for you as product demonstrators at
the Leather Shop. Nobody expects to see product demonstrators with un-scarred
skin. Customers at the shop love to see the effects of the tools they're
buying."
Marla held the cane with both hands now and put her back into pulling out the
ring. Blackie's scream echoed around the cement walls of the playroom.
Marla stumbled forward with the sudden release of the ring from it's fleshy
prison. As the cane snapped forward the ring flew off the hook smashing into a
wall and providing someone with a souvenir of the experience.
It had been an evening of greatest and this was no exception as Blackie had
never felt anything as painful as what just happened but there were no signs at
all that she would black out. She tried not to look at her mangled nipple but
she couldn't help but take the occasional glimpse. Blood ran down the breast
until it reached the first loop of rope, and then dripped down onto the floor.
There was a steady drip. Marla waited a minute to allow the shocked slave time
to settle down...
"Now you will answer me this question. If you answer correctly there will only
be one more ring pulled out between you and your sister. If you answer wrong
then two more rings will go the way of the first."
"Here is the question. Should I pull out your other ring or should I pull out
one of your sister's, who, as you've just seen has gone through a very nasty
experience."
Blackie tried to think only to feel Marla's small personal whip cut across her
belly.
"Answer me now BITCH!," Marla implored.
With no time to think Blackie blurted out. "Please mistress pull out mine!!"
"Wrong answer!!"
"From now on you had better learn to worry only about saving your own skin. If
you can pass off something on to your sister you better take every opportunity
of doing it. You will learn to make decisions on the basis of what is good for
you and not another slave. As a reward for trying to be a martyr you will both
have another ring pulled out. The worst scenario for you, since all you
accomplish is making things worse for yourself because Blondie, over there, was
going to loose one of hers, anyway. You'll learn fast that there is no nobility
in sacrificing yourself to another slave. Not like there is when you sacrifice
yourself to a superior."
"Now I'm going to give you another choice. Instead of pulling out your ring I
could pull out both of Blondie's nipple rings. Which would you like me to do?
Shall I pull out your other tit ring or do I pull out both of hers." Marla
pointed her finger at Blondie. Blondie who had still not fainted away but now,
near complete exhaustion, she continued to writhe while still suspended in mid
air, suspended from her tortured boobs.
"Just look at her," Marla went on. "She is not doing well at all. Having her
nipples ripped apart could put her over the edge... Look at her lips go. Nobody
has any idea what she's babbling about except maybe herself..."
"So. Which do you prefer?"
Blackie would never wish harm on her sister but now she was trapped. Showing
sympathy wouldn't help her sister but it would defiantly make it worse for
herself.
"Pull out both of my sister's nipple rings, Mistress" Blackie strained to
whisper.
Blackie would have welcomed death with open arms at that moment.
"WHAT!!," Marla shouted at the desperate slave. "I didn't hear you."
"Please Mistress, pull out both my sister's nipple rings."
Blackie's voice was stronger, but still too quiet to satisfy Marla.
"If I can't hear you the next time you talk I'm going to start pulling out your
pussy rings as well," came Marla's sharp reply.
"PLEASE MISTRESS PULL OUT BOTH OF MY SISTER'S NIPPLE RINGS."
Blackie screamed out as best she could under the conditions. It was loud enough
for everyone in the room to hear without any electronic aides.
Blackie was almost dead inside. She began to understand what real pain was and
what they were doing to her body palled in comparison to what Marla was doing to
her mind. She couldn't believe what she had just done.  Up to a few minutes ago
she never imagined saying anything like she had just said and now she had not
only said it but yelled it. Sure she knew that Marla would do what she wanted to
do but still Blackie thought...  Maybe the real reason was to save her own skin.
She could no longer tell.  She started to think about what would happen when she
had to hold her own legs spread for the cane. She hurt so much down there, and
it wasn't just a surface pain but a deep down pain.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Lords and Ladies," Marla put on her finest courtroom
manner.
"Although both these cunts posses milk bars of ample size their mass is quite
low so when the cane strikes the organs will absorb most of the shock which will
spread right through. With so much pressure inside the bags trying to find an
outlet, the skin will be hard pressed not to tear like a too tight pair of
slacks. Because of the danger of having the entire sack rip off as any tears in
the skin would try to pulled by her own weight, the caning will be restricted to
the fronts of the breasts where there is no weight effect. Don't worry, the
shock of each blow will penetrate right down to her ribs. Of course there is
such a beautiful target on each globe, the nipples. It shouldn't take more then
a couple of strokes to tell this sack of shit, that the nipple isn't where she
wants to be whipped, if she can avoid it. I expect there will be quite an aerial
display as she squirms trying to get the cane to miss it's target. So that
nobody feels that I am being unfair in handing down such a heavy punishment I
will have the ones caning her breasts be women."
A pair of female silhouette approached from the stands and stopped to put on
hoods. Blackie recognized them immediately from their shape. The two women were
Greta and Shandra.
Blackie had seen their victims before and knew she would be broken tonight. They
all were.
Both Shandra and Greta were expert in their use of the whip and other implements
of correction. A large segment of their clientele expected it. In the hands of
these experts the wet canes would come down with more force then a baseball bat
connecting with a ball in the hands of a major league hitter.
Shandra, substantially shorter then Greta would come over her head with the
cane, both hands on the handle, and smash it down on the right tit. She stood
head on to it.
Greta, was tall enough to wield it like a baseball bat. She would attack the
left organ, from the side. Greta's size and taut musculature made her not only
imposing but in combination with her Slavic good looks she was incredibly
erotic.
With a subtle nod of her head Marla began the flight of both canes to their
targets at the same time, connecting within small fraction of a second from each
other.
First came the whistle and then the sickening smacks as the polls plunged into
their soft targets splitting the skin with both tips and sending a shock right
up her spine. Reflexively Blackie's body convulsed bending and twisting her body
tightening the loops of rope even more, Shandra's cane expanded the existing
tear in the right nipple while Greta opened up a brand new cut.
Marla walked over to the bawling, squirming figure and began to stroke her
flanks with her gloved hands.
"There, there, take it easy." Marla's voice soothed and reassured.
Blackie's mind was on overload processing more sensations then it could handle
shutting of any kind of real thought. All she could do was react to the pain.
For the second blow the women switched places ensuring equal treatment for
Blackie's jugs.
As Blackie began to settle down Marla took a close look at the damage to the two
globes pulled by the spreader bar and hanging right in front of her face. She
saw that even though much of the canes energy was absorbed by splitting the skin
still the rapidly forming bruises extended wall beyond the width of the canes.
Marla extended her tongue to lick some of the blood flowing from the new wound.
Extending her tongue out its full length and with the very tip flicking back
drops of the crimson elixir. The air was heavy around the breast perfumed by the
pungent aroma of fear and sweat.
She stood there several minutes, licking and caressing till the only motion from
Blackie's body was her heavy breathing and incessant trembling. The two
custodians of the canes would be able to once again strike the same targets only
from different angles.
Marla stepped aside.
Blackie scrunched up her eyes.
"WHHHHAP, WHHHHAP", came the successive sharp blows again on target.
This time Marla didn't bother to try and settle the struggling form. Instead she
waved on Greta and Shandra to strike at will, sending in 3 more strokes into
each bag in quick order.
Unable to think, Blackie simply felt and reacted instinctively going so far as
to try to kick away her assailants with her legs. This just resulted in some
quick strokes across her thighs that didn't count towards the 100..
Their punishment continued with Marla breaking up each whipping into ten parts
and carefully setting up each part to squeeze out the biggest reaction from the
two slaves. Their arm pits where caned next, followed by sessions concentrating
on single parts of their legs like the fronts of their thighs, then the backs,
followed by their flanks and calves. Their backs received more attention and
then finally they ended with a double session across their ass cheeks leaving
posteriors grossly bloody and swollen. Towards the end both Blondie and Blackie
moved very little. They had nothing left.
The initial plan had been to secure the beaten bodies of the twins over a pair
of wooden horses so that their orifices could be used by the guests as they saw
fit but Marla had never witnessed live what a hundred strokes of a heavy cane
can do to the bodies of underweight girls. It was quite clear that this idea
would have to be discarded since they would be unable to be responsive to any
further abuse leaving a distinctly bad taste in the mouths of anyone that tried
to use them. On the other hand the prognosis for nearly full physical recovery
was quite good if attended to promptly by a surgeon that had experience with
similar injuries such as Steve. For him being pulled away from the night's
festivities in order to take needle and thread to these still conscious lovelies
was hardly something that he had to be strong armed to do. Not only would he
enjoy the work but he knew Garret would pay handsomely for the expert care.
The twins did manage one more show of emotion before being wrapped in blankets
and carried out of the Playroom. It was when the ropes binding their tortured
udders were cut suddenly sending back in a rush of blood and sensation. Fresh
tears appeared from dried out tear ducts and pathetic moans forced their way
past their lips. Steve was in for a long and pleasurable night.
Blondie needed knee surgery and multitudes of stitches to close open wounds.
When they were told that it was a part of their punishment and they would
receive no anesthetic both went into shock. The reassembly of the torn nipples
was the worst, partly because of the natural tenderness of the area and partly
because the doctor took particular time and care reassembling these jewels.
Blondie was anesthetized for the knee surgery.  It would have been to much
additional stress for her and endangered her life, at least that was what Steve
thought.
The wounds in their crotch were repaired with less care since appearance in this
area was more important than perfect function. It mattered little if they could
ever again frig themselves to climax because their clits no longer had normal
feeling. Repairs went more quickly. Part of the treatment was that each slave
also had her clit hood trimmed off and then cauterized. This was to leave their
clits completely exposed to the whip. It took the better part of 24 hours for
Steve to finish up with the two slaves but his work was meticulous, and even the
stitches could barely be seen when he was through.
It was now finally time for Pooch to assume her rightful place at center stage.
Her owner went to fetch her away from the wall from which her hands had not
strayed since being instructed to remain there. On a leash she walked behind her
mistress, eyes cast down, wearing only shoes, stockings and garter belt.
Marla led Pooch to the spot light like a dog, keeping the leash tight.
"Stand at attention like your previous owner taught you," Marla snapped.



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