Message-ID: <21985asstr$946253401@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail X-Original-Message-ID: <38664DFF.856FEAF@home.com> From: "Mr. Ed" X-Accept-Language: en MIME-Version: 1.0 Subject: {ASSM} Rebecca Mine (3-4)(N/C, F/f, Bdsm, severe) Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 809 NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 26 Dec 1999 09:20:49 PST Date: Sun, 26 Dec 1999 19:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: IceAltar, gill-bates This is story is fantasy and is only intended as such. It is writen to be read by adults that can tell the difference between fantasy and reality. MORNING WELCOME (Chapter 3) Mrs. Jones woke up at 6 AM but she didn't get out of bed right away. Even though she knew Rebecca was suffering terribly she didn't allow herself to betray her eagerness to release her daughter show. For an hour she just lay in bed and fingered herself while she watched her daughter suffer on the monitor. The sheets beneath Darcey's hips were wet from her her own lubricating juices. Although there seemed to be nothing dramatically active on the screen at the time the agony of the position showed on her daughter. After coming 2 times She got out of bed and began her normal morning routine. Mrs. Jones knew Beck would here that she was up because she wore her outrageous steel toed stiletto slides. These are a high heeled shoe with a five inch heel, fashioned after the basic pointy toed pump only they were backless. They also made a lot of noise on the wooden and tile floors and Rebecca would hear it. She knew that Rebecca would be hoping to see her right away since her mother was the only one that could release her before she died and Rebecca didn't think she had much time left. Mrs. Jones prepared herself a cheese and egg omelet along with buttered toast and a cup of hot black coffee. She had earlier went outside to get the morning paper and read it while leisurely eating and sipping coffee. After finishing with the paper Mrs. Jones went to her bathroom and began toying with her make up and her dress. She decided that she would make herself look as dirty and whorish as she could pull off without making a mockery of herself. She figured it would be the right look to separate her as much as possible from her old image of mother, to her daughter. After a while it came to her that the easiest way to do this was to wear minimal cloths, always wear the same cloths and never wash them. A pair of black, seamed stockings worn with her deadly slides (mules) and a beige garter belt would do the trick for her clothing. Mrs. Darcey Jones loved the idea that in reality she was bare naked but wearing items that would draw the eye to her private parts. Her breasts would always hang free from the restraint of a bra while at home. Conversely she would have Rebecca wearing a bra just about all the time but her brassieres would give her udders no rest at all from pain. She had already handcrafted four different types of brassieres, that Rebecca would have to wear, that filled this criterion. One was a very basic pin cushion bra which was an ordinary full cup brassier lined with sharp thumb tacks. There were no less then 60 in each cup all attached with epoxy glue. Rebecca's soft tits would be carefully positioned in each cup and then the back and shoulder straps pulled tight driving the pins hard into the breast tissue and skin. The large number of tacks would keep most of them from puncturing her skin but that only made them more painful. If Mrs. Jones really wanted to see them sunk into Rebecca's tits she would have to hammer them in. An old wooden dust broom she had would be perfect in hammering in the tacks. Maybe she would use the breast cincher bra first though. That one would begin the process of stretching her daughters young tits while making them ever so ready for a bit of torture. Darcey enjoyed thinking about this decision. For makeup Mrs. Jones would keep things simple with the traditional bright red lips, a very pale foundation and some rouge on the cheeks and blue eye shadow. Some work with a a black eye brow pencil and mascara would complete the face. Using black lacquer for her finger and toe nails added a bit of a wild twist to her trashy appearance. Darcey had put a great deal of thought into the care and feeding of her slave daughter. After a lot of research into what foods would keep Rebecca in top condition she came up with a mixture of grains, fruits, vegetables and legumes that was very inexpensive to make and would provide all the vitamins, minerals and proteins she would need for optimal health. She had used the largest stock pot she had to mix up and cook enough of the gruel to last for 2 weeks and then bagged it into 14 freezer bags, one per day. This would be the only real food she would feed Becky from now on but she would be sure to add some special flavoring to it when served. She would serve it cold, but fully defrosted, twice a day. The first bag was waiting in the fridge ready to be doled out. Darcey spooned out roughly half the contents of the bag into a new steel doggie bowl and with spoon, bowl and a pair of scissors in hand she unlocked the door to the basement and turned on the light. "Good morning Becky!" she exclaimed in a cheerful tone. "This is going to be a big day for you and me so I hope you got a good nights sleep." At first Rebecca was blinded by the sudden harsh light and could barely make out the brazen figure clip clopping down the wooden stair case. A mix of relief and dread flooded her mind as she had both hope that this ordeal might be coming to an end and fear of what her mother might have planned for her. Surely it had to be better then the agony she was in right now. When she got a better look at her mother her feelings of fear were increased. Why would any normal person make herself look the way she had to see her daughter? It was all so incredibly sick. "Please let me go mamma," she whispered. Her voice was gone from all the begging and screaming she had done throughout the night. "I'm sorry honey, I can't do that and I will never do that, you see things have already gone beyond the point of no return," was the response. Your going to have to learn that your life permanently changed last night and you're my sex slave know." "You must be starving so I brought you breakfast." "Nooooooo, please don't say that." Rebecca begged with as much feeling as she could express. "I won't do anything, I won't tell anyone. It will be our secret. Please, please o God please let me go." Mrs. Jones went on as if she hadn't heard a word that was said. "I bet it awfully uncomfortable having your hair tied to the cage that way. Let me fix it." Mrs. Jones then reached through the bars of the cage with scissors in hand and began to cut away all the tied up hair just above scalp level. She continued to ignore Becky's sobs. After cutting through the last strands her daughters head dropped and she cried out in pain from the sudden release. Becky jerked on her wrist cuffs to try and bring up her hands to support her head but that just brought more pain and a few trickles of blood from the raw skin. "There, that must feel better." "Now lift up your head and see what I brought you for breakfast. It's my own concoction with everything you need to stay in peak health. It has oats and barley and corn, a lot of soy powder, Carrots, onions 5 kinds of beans, sauerkraut, dried eggs, all the minerals and vitamins you'll ever need. I hope you like it because it's all you'll ever get. I have to buy in bulk to get the best prices for the ingredients. Don't worry though. As boring as it may seem I'll be adding an extra ingredient or two before I serve it to you. Here Rebecca, see how it tastes in pure form. " Mrs. Jones then dipped the spoon she had brought with the dog bowl into the gruel and brought a mouthful to Rebecca's lips. "Open your mouth Beck or you'll pay for it." Grudgingly Rebecca opened her mouth and took in the food on the spoon. It t didn't taste as bad as she thought it would. The tastes were mild and if anything it was very bland. She could stand this she thought. She lifted her head up again to see what her mother was doing. Mom was squatting over the dog bowl. Rebecca closed her eyes and turned her head away when she saw her mother release a torrent of her piss filling every crack in the mound of food and surrounding it with a golden moat. "I think you may have noticed I was upstairs a long time and the toilet never flushed. This really is a delightful sensation almost orgasmic. You don't know how I bad I had to go. " Mrs. Jones sighed as if in ecstasy. "Wait till you see what I have for you for dinner." She said this as though it were an inside joke. Mrs. Jones was right, Rebecca didn't get the joke at all. Mrs. Jones began stirring up the mess into a cool soup, her warm pee having taken the chill out of the gruel. "You probably don't remember how I used to feed you as a child, how we would pretend the spoon was am airplane and your mouth was the hanger door. Open wide." Mrs. Jones seemed to genuinely enjoy playing this scene from the past, her voice soft and encouraging but Rebecca wanted no part of it keeping her mouth clamped shut. "Becky, I know this isn't that easy for you yet but you have to try. I will not throw away good food and you will eat this sooner or later just like you will eat anything else I tell you to. In fact you will do anything at all I tell you to do. That's one of your biggest benefits Beck. You don't have to ever decide again about what you are going to do and what you won't. From now on you simply follow instructions. The only thing you do without being told is breath. Everything else you wait to be instructed to do. That includes discharging your bodily wastes. I have a special interest in that process. Too bad about you pissing last night. That will be punished shortly. " Mrs. Jones pushed the spoon of pissy gruel against Rebecca's lips. Rebecca wouldn't open her mouth. "This will be the only time I will ever give you another warming before actually punishing you, but maybe it's only fair I let you know what will happen if you don't hurry up and eat every last bit of scrap that's in this bowl. " "First I'll move the bowl aside like this and leave it there until your next feeding. For that period of time whatever is in the bowl will begin to fester. At your next feeding time you will again be offered the same bowl. If you finish it the evening meal is prepared and you have to finish that as well. Two meals in one sitting. Now if you don't show me enough eagerness in opening your mouth then I will spend the remaining time that I would have spent feeding you I will open up your cage and spend that time flogging you. I don't think it will ever take more then one flogging for you to remember your place. If you still don't come around after you get your second flogging then the next day a feeding tube will be inserted going directly to your stomach. You will be force fed all of the food you should have eaten while being tortured. " Mrs. Jones continued know to jostle the spoon against her daughters lips. "Let me be very clear about this girl. Not only are you expected to do what you're told I also expect you to show enthusiasm. I can punish you for lack of enthusiasm as much as for disobedience. It's wise to learn how to fake it." "I've warned you!" Rebecca couldn't get her mouth to open until she saw her mother begin to push aside the dog bowl. At that point reality set in and Rebecca popped open her mouth. "I'm sorry dear. You had your chance. We will see if you have a better appetite tonight when you will have 2 bowls to finish. I'll be back as soon as I fetch something to beat you with." Rebecca let her head drop till her forehead touched the metal floor pan. She was already thinking of how much easier it would have been just to eat her breakfast. Her stomach began to turn again. Rebecca began to heave but she was empty so nothing came up. Too soon she heard the clipity clop of her mothers shoes coming down the stairs. She was carrying a piece of rope and a length of electrical cord with her. PAINFUL LEARNING (Chapter 4) Mrs. Jones squatted on her heels as she entered the combination into the large lock that secured the cage. This was what the cage was designed for, to open up as wide as possible without risking anything from the slave inside. She soon had the latch unfastened and the sides and top of the cage folded back. She heard the retching sounds coming from Becky and felt somewhat sorry for her. She told herself that if she was to be a good Mistress she had better learn to ignore that feeling. Mrs. Jones picked up the short length of cord and tied one end of it around Becky's neck and the other around the top bar of the front cage panel. Here head now overhung the top bar and protruded beyond the front panel. Her shoulders would now have to be at least 2 feet above the ground. "This is to make sure you cant slump all the way down to the ground and stop me from wrapping this whip around you and sticking your belly. I want you as vulnerable as possible when your whipped." "I want you to learn as much from the whipping as you can. Remember that you don't make decisions any more but just do as your told." "Please don't do this mom, pleeeeeeeeeeeeessss." Mrs. Jones rose from her squat doubled over electrical cord in hand. "Remember Rebecca, don't waste the experience. Learn from this to just do as your told. There's no need to think about anything anymore except to do as your told.." Mrs. Jones had practiced cracking the rubber electric cord across a pillow that she had visualized as Rebecca's back. She got very confident that she could control it quite well. She would lay down a row of stripes from shoulders to the back of her knees and then start curling the whip around her sides to strike her tender underbelly. She held the 6' length of electrical cord folded in half with the ends in her hand. Mrs. Jones didn't want to cut her up as she knew she would if struck with the ends of the cord. "One thing you might think about while I whip you is how you will apologize to me after I've finished. I think apologies are a very important part of any punishment and if I am not impressed with your apology I'll just repeat the punishment over from the beginning." With her head bound over the top of the front cage panel Rebecca couldn't see what her mother was doing but she clearly heard the whistle and then the crack of the rubber cord as it smacked into the back of her left shoulder. It was hard enough to crack the skin where the end struck. Like a photograph developing in a darkroom the shape of the electrical cord slowly appeared on her back first just light pink and then growing progressively darker as the skin swelled up to form a raised welt. The crescent shaped area at the end darkened all the way to purple with a few drops of blood oozing through to the surface. All this occurred while Mrs. Jones brought down her whip at a steady pace each time bringing her arm all the way back behind her shoulder and putting all she could into each stroke. Rebecca went hysterical, finding new energy where non had existed before. Furiously she pulled at her restraints trying to break free, trying to do anything she could to get out of the way of the whistling electrical cord. She no longer even perceived pain from her raw wrists and knees as she pulled against the bonds with all of her strength. Her back was aflame with pain and the fire just continued to move all the way steadily down the right side of her back. When it reached her ass it seemed to pause, not with regard to the time between strokes but that now the same spots were struck repeatedly. Rebecca believed all the skin there was being systematically removed. Mrs. Jones was quite certain that her daughters perceived pain was being perceived by her as much worse then the damage actually being caused. Rebecca was not being torn apart with only some of the strokes breaking her skin except for the ones landing on her well padded fanny where there were many spots that they overlapped. Here there were a lot of bloody trails After 50 or so strokes on her right buttock the whipping progressed down the right thigh. Here Mrs. Jones didn't merely work her way down the back of the right thigh but came a bit closer so that the cord would wrap around the thigh striking the outside front and finally curling all the way around and hitting the soft inside part of the thigh. No matter how hard Becky struggled it did her no good at all. She began to believe that it was now just a matter of time before she died. "There. not a bad start. How are you doing dear, I hope you've been thinking about your apology for being willfully disobedient to me." The words made Becky's heart sink further as in her agony she had completely forgotten about the apology. Her mother hadn't been joking and was actually expecting am apology. How could she possibly do something so humiliating and apologize for not eagerly opening up to eat her piss gruel. Mrs. Jones stepped back in front of the cage her body now glistening with sweat, drops of piss still clinging to the dense hair of her cunt. She squatted on her heels so she could look Becky in the eye. "Since this is just the first day of your new life I'm going to tell you something else that you might still not understand. When I say something to you, you better know that I mean it. I have not and I will not joke with you or tell you things I don't really mean. You are no longer required to make those sorts of decisions like is she serious or isn't she. As far as you're concerned I'm always serious and if I say something will happen you know that it will. Now while I take a short break I'll let you give me a practice apology. Spit one out." Rebecca was tongue tied, she started to shake from the fear of having to speak to her mother knowing she was completely unprepared. Afraid of incurring more punishment for not speaking Rebecca started to blurt out an apology. "I - I - I'm s-s-so s-s-s-sor-r-ry mother. I'll eat anything you tell me too from now on l promise. I apologize it won't happen again I-I promise." Becky pleaded in the most desperate voice that she could muster but couldn't think of anything more to say. "Are you finished apologizing?" "Yes , I'm sorry I can't think of what else to say. Oh please don't punish me again, please." "Punish you again? I have barely started with your first punishment. You have a lot more time to think about the apology. You've probably noticed that I haven't touched your left side yet, and I didn't make sure you couldn't hide your underbelly for nothing sweetheart. There is still a lot of time. I'll give you another chance to apologize during the next break in your whipping." Mrs. Jones then got up and walked over to Rebecca's right side from which she began to methodically whip the left side of her back. Drops of blood now fell every few seconds from both of Rebecca's wrists. She didn't notice this small pain at all as her back was again set ablaze and she just had to escape. Although Mrs. Jones enjoyed whipping Rebecca immensely, especially watching the change that was happening, before her eyes, to her back, she did hope that Becky would come up with some sort of acceptable apology and spare herself a repeat of the whipping while showing her mother/owner that she was trainable. Mrs. Jones was sure that eventually she could inflict enough pain on her daughter that she would do anything to stop it but if her breaking point was very high she was afraid there might not be much left to play with. This time between laying down fresh stripes Mrs. Jones talked to her daughter. "An acceptable apology has a minimum of 4 parts. Part one is self deprecation." CRACK!! "I expect to hear how low and unworthy of anything from me you are." CRACK!! "The second part is the expression of genuine regret for what you've done." CRACK!! "Next you express aggrandizement for your master and how high above you your master is." CRACK!! "And last, but by no means least, you express gratitude for your punishment" CRACK!! "That spells DRAG: deprecation, regret, aggrandizement, gratitude.!!!" Mrs. Jones began to raise her voice as if to show her irritation at having to punish Rebecca. She started to show anger and soon began to feel real anger, as the show changed from merely an act to the real thing. CRACK!!! "Have you been listening slave? Have you heard anything I've said?! CRACK!!!! "Tell me you little shit, tell me what the 'G' in DRAG stands for!!" CRACK!!!! Rebecca just screamed. It wasn't much of a scream her throat as hoarse as it was. Yes she did hear her mother talking but her mind had been so fixated on her whipping that she had understood nothing. She had no reason to expect her mother to talk to her while whipping her. She only now realized that Mrs. Jones had been speaking to her. "Im sorry I didn't hear you." Rebecca pleaded with her mother. CRACK!!!! "You didn't hear me or you weren't paying attention? Which one is it? Was I whispering? Is that it? Or was your mind elsewhere?!!" "Please, please mother don't hurt me any more, please." "Don't be silly Becky. Punishment is supposed to hurt and be as unpleasant as possible. That's the reason it works. If you know that you are going to get at least a sever whipping if you do anything wrong you are unlikely to do it. If the punishment isn't severe enough to to change you then it's been a waste of time" "I am now the most important thing in your life. It's up to me if you live or if you die. It's up to me how you live, what you do, where you sleep, CRACK!!!!! .when you sleep, or even if you sleep. You drink what I give you to drink and you eat what I give you to eat." CRACK!!!!! The stroke of the whip was getting progressively harder as Mrs. Jones level of excitement went up. There was now a sharp retort with every stroke. "This is the last time I go though this so pay attention. Again the necessities of a proper apology, according to the DRAG principle, were explained to Rebecca in between stokes of the electrical cord only this time, in total terror of having to go through the whipping again the young slave girl listened as well as she could. After finishing the striping of her left thigh Mrs. Jones again paused. "Let's review. What does the 'G' in drag stand for?" Becky, still in tears managed to stutter out, "g-g-gratitude, g-g-gratitude for having my master correct my behavior." "Very good Becky. There is some hope for you yet. Now what about the 'D'?" "D-d-deprecation. I must say how unworthy I am." Rebecca burst out into renewed bawling as this further indignity began to sink in. Mr. Jones came back in front of Rebecca, squatted down and began to stoke what was left of her filthy hair. "Hush Becky, hush. Your punishment will be over soon enough and one day you will look back on this as a relatively minor event in your new life. After it's over we'll get you cleaned up and out of the cage for a little while. Now just try to rest for a minute before we go on." Mrs. Jones actually did take a minute to rest. After a couple hundred hard strokes her arm was tiring. Becky didn't yet realize that the break wasn't working to her advantage and knelt in position hoping it would go on longer. She started composing an apology in her head. She knew she'd have to do it but found it so horribly humiliating. How could she apologize for something that was not at all wrong, and to do it to her monster mother. If she could have she would have probably chosen death as a more palatable alternative but unfortunately it wasn't a choice she had. As soon as she got a few words put together her bind would draw a blank as if finding it impossible to go on. "I'm sorry for disobeying you mother. I am not worthy to be trampled by your feet.", then there would be no more and she'd start the apology over again in her mind. Whhhhhhhhump!!, was followed by a scream and convulsion as Becky literally jumped into the air as far as her restraints allowed. The first stroke to her front side, which was now her underside, had curled right around her left side and come across to strike the right side if her right breast. Composing her apology would have to wait With her head lowered Becky could see clearly the line of the doubled over cord and the dark welt that immediately began to rise. Mrs. Jones had planed a strategy that would allow her to whip Rebecca's front with fewer stokes but elicit as great an effect by speeding up the strokes so they would fall quickly one right after the other leaving her no opportunity to prepare for the next. She would give her a minute of pure hell but leave her in a condition that would allow Becky to be whipped again if her apology didn't come, or was very bad. She made sure she covered her entire belly and breasts with angry lines lacing into her like a demon possessed. Whhhhhhhhump!!, Whhhhhhhhump!!, Whhhhhhhhump!!. The blows rained up at the frantic slave girls underbelly till she almost lost her mind, then suddenly they stopped. Becky's once clear, smooth skin was history. There was barely a spot on her body an inch away from a bruise or a welt. She was soaked in sweat, the salty water running down her skin and adding their own sting to that of her wounds. Mrs. Jones walked back to the front of the cage and to the wall eight feet ahead of it. She hung the electrical cord up on a nail in the wall right in Becky's view. Mrs. Jones believed it would be easier to maintain proper order if her young slave was constantly reminded to about what happens to slaves that make mistakes. The dungeon would take e shape gradually with new objects entering it at irregular intervals. Mrs. Jones was very curious about how it would look in a few years. She would add to the dungeon gradually waiting till she had spent many hours thinking things through as to what would be most effective in training and disciplining Becky. There were a few things that Mrs. Jones thought essential and she would bring those in today. The objects had been purchased a while ago but she thought it would be more fun installing them while her slave watched. Once again Mrs. Jones returned to squat in front of her daughters restrained head. Again she petted the filthy strands of hair on her daughters head. Occasionally she brushed away Rebecca's tears. "Do you know what you're going to say when you apologize yet dear? It's almost time you know. Oh. and just one little thing that I will not remind you of again, you had better have an apology ready after every single punishment." Rebecca had barely settled down enough to comprehend what she was being told. Frantically she started putting together another apology in her mind. In the background she could hear voices saying, 'just give me a little more time, just give me a little more time.' "Now for the last nasty little bit you are going to help me out Beck. I'm going to release your wrists from the cuffs. When I do you are going to reach back and using a hand on each ass cheek you are going to spread them as far apart as you can so I can whip your girl parts and nasty bits unobstructed." Mrs. Jones released Rebecca's wrists from the restraints easing the sand papered straps from the raw skin on her wrists. Though a painfully brutal way of toughening Rebecca's skin it was the mistress's choice. Eventually Mrs. Jones thought that she had better be able to hang from her wrists for hours at a time. The image of a girl hanging in mid air, tortured, with no hope of escape, was a powerfully erotic one to her. This was what was in her mind when she lined the cuffs with sticky backed sandpaper. Shortly those wrists and ankles would be soaking in alcohol and the skin would get tough. In the meantime there was another use that Mrs. Jones wanted to put her daughters hands to. Mrs. Jones took each of Rebecca's hands and placed them on her ass cheeks so that her fingertips lay just slightly inside her crack then adjusted them so they would spread her ass cheeks revealing her most tender parts to maximum advantage. Clearly, however she did not lick what she saw. Even at age 15 Rebecca had far too much pubic hair for a slave and Mrs. Jones decided it would be best to remedy the matter before the final strokes of Becky's whipping. "Before I go any further I think I have to clean you up a bit. I just didn't realize how closely you take after your mother and have so much hair down there. In your case though it will have to come off, we don't want it getting in the way of the whip and cushioning the blows and besides it could be dangerous because I can't see the extent of the damage. Keep yourself spread for me while I clean that mess up." Mrs. Jones picked up the scissors she had used to cut off a chunk of rebecca's hair and used them on her bush to trim away as much as she could but before finishing with them she also returned to the hair left on her head and snipped almost all of it away. Becky had always been very proud of her beautiful locks but now they were gone, just a pile of shorn locks on the basement floor. "Where your head is going to be for much of the time, long hair is not a good think. It would be too much trouble keeping it clean. Just think, I won't be able to tie it like I did last night again." Mrs. Jones almost chuckled as she said that because she had much better means of fastening her head in any fashion she wished. She was also sure that Rebecca couldn't imagine some of the things she would soon be doing. If she only knew. Her mother had plans and ideas. Mrs. Jones left the basement for a minute and walk out to the garden shed in less then her birthday suite. She wanted the lawn hose and an old disposable razor that she had found lying on one of the shelves. She picked up the shortest length of hose and the razor and headed back to the house. She got the wooden scrub brush from the laundry room and went down the cellar steps, locking the door behind her. Rebecca had spent the time in both prayer and preparation for her apology. In the end she asked God to help her make up her apology and then felt that he had. The prayer calmed her a little and after all that she has already taken, how bad could this last part be. She was so tired now, the whipping had taken every last once of energy and fight from her. She needed to rest, to sleep. She needed to get free of her restraints and lie down. The sound of her mothers distinctive footsteps coming back cleared her fogy mind. She watched her mother screw one end of the lawn hose into a single, cold water faucet and a sprayer on the other. She watched her demented mother turn on the faucet and am the sprayer into the drain a couple of feet from the cage. The sprayer sputtered several times as the air trapped in the hose escaped out the end. In a moment a heavy stream of cold water beat across her back, head, sides and especially her ass. Rebecca felt the course bristles of the wooden brush scrub the skin between her legs as she held her vulva spread wide for it. The brush hurt a bit but not nearly as much as she had feared. Mrs. Jones had scrubbed down every inch of her slaves body before putting away the brush on the floor under the faucet. Giving Rebecca's crack one last spray of water Mrs. Jones began to scrape away every last bit of her daughters pubic hair. When finished her cunt was an incredible sight; bald as the day she was born but plump, red and inviting from the treatment it had just received. For Rebecca the loss of her hair from 2 such prominent places made her feel a nakedness more profound then any she had ever felt before. Hard to believe as it was, this was a whole new level of nakedness. Mrs. Jones inspected Rebecca again after finishing her shave and liked what she saw much better. Rebecca was again a little girl still bald where it really counted. She could see the smallest detail now every nook and cranny of her crotch. "Excellent. Excuse my while I go get the whip I have especially for your cunt." Rebecca had never known such fear. On hearing the familiar footsteps descending the stairs again she began to shake from fear of what was coming. She saw her mother carrying a whip with a very long and slender handle and two tails emerging from the handle both od tightly braided leather and a series of 4 knots on each of the tails arranged so the knots on one tail didn't interfere with those on the other. Each stroke would find eight knots speeding to make contact with Rebecca's crotch. "Look at the craftsmanship. One day you'll appreciate a fine whip like this one. It's skinned many cunts before yours, brought many tears and it's still in fine condition. Spread your cheeks like I showed you. Your going to have one amazing looking cunt very soon. I will allow you to let go of your ass cheeks after each stoke, I know you won't be able to help that yet, but they better be spread again in 15 seconds or the stroke won't count. Have a whiff of this." Mrs. Jones removed the cap at the top end of the handle and waved the hole under Rebecca's nose. She jerked her head back. "Isn't that the most wonderful idea?, smelling salts where they are most convenient. You're not going to pass out on me." This time Mrs. Jones stood up and took a step back from the front of the cage. Rebecca could clearly see her mother's arm lift the whip back over her right shoulder and then bring it down hard, right over her anus. Immediately the turd lurking in her ass shot out off Rebecca's ass hole hitting the metal floor of her cage with thud and sending up a shower of piss from a puddle that had collected there. Rebecca had lost her last shred of dignity and didn't care. The pain was just too great. "Looks like that one doesn't count. Spread your fuking ass cheeks like you were told or you'll get an extra 3 you pig. I'll deal with your shit later" Rebecca was now almost catatonic. She had stopped crying. Slowly she reached back and complied with her mother's directions. What else could she do? She watched as her mother brought the whip behind her shoulder again but closed her eyes as soon as it began it's high speed journey to her burning crotch. This whip whistled at a much higher pitch on it's flight through the air and before her mother cracked it, this time sending the knotted tips crashing into her cunt at super sonic speed. Blood leaked from a half dozen spots that had been struck by the knots. Instinctively Becky pushed her ass cheeks together while writhing in pain as much as her restraints allowed but this time she composed herself enough to comply with her orders. The whip whistled a third time striking Becky square on her cunt with the very leading tips reached her exposed clit. This time she passed out and Mrs. Jones had to use the smelling salts to revive her. "You didn't spread for me so that last one doesn't count either. If you can take 2 more and do as your told that will be it otherwise we'll just keep going, now SPREAD!!! At least with a goal to strive for Becky found the strength to expose herself to the whip and stay conscious. After the second blow which left the length of her crotch covered in blood Mrs. Jones let Becky squirm to her hearts content. She would give her a few minutes before asking for her apology. -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+