Gretchen had promised me that if I lost my bet in regards to my sister, that I'd be whipped with an Australian stock whip. And since I lost that bet and since Gretchen isn't the sort to let me wriggle out of anything, I soon found myself in the basement, naked and tied to a bondage device that Gretchen called a torture tower.
Now, the way Gretchen had me bound to this thing left me with my back facing towards the wooden bondage device and my breasts and belly exposed for the whip. The main part of the tower is a wooden, vertical post about seven feet tall and there's an eyehook ring at the top of the post. Gretchen used some rope and tied one end of it to the eyehook ring and the other end to the leather wrist restraints that I was wearing. Because of the height of this eyehook ring and the relative shortness of the rope, I was forced to keep my hands high above my head. Gretchen also used a spreader bar to bind my ankles far apart, which caused me to spread my thighs obscenely wide and expose my pussy for all to see. The spreader bar was attached to the base of the tower, but approximately two feet in front of the main part of the tower. As a result, my pelvis was thrust out much further forward than my upper body and seemed as if I were offering my pussy up for punishment.
This bondage position was an uncomfortable one, especially for my inner thighs, but when I complained about the discomfort, she just said, "Nobody ever said that the life of a slave would be an easy one. You'll just have to suffer." Then Gretchen went upstairs and left me alone in basement, naked, bound and helpless.
I wriggled as much as I could and tried to get comfortable, but the human body just wasn't designed to hold a position like this for long periods of time. After a few minutes I was really feeling the strain in my pectoral and inner thigh muscles. A few minutes after that I noticed sweat breaking out on my brow, underarms and torso.
Due to years of ballet training I'm somewhat used to stretching my muscles and holding them in difficult and painful positions, otherwise I don't think I would have been able to do this.
After what seemed like an hour (but what Gretchen assures me was no more than twenty minutes), Gretchen came back, holding the stock whip, however she wasn't alone.
At first I didn't recognize the woman that had come into the basement with Gretchen, but I recognized the name as soon as Gretchen said it. "Diane, you remember Officer Ryan, don't you?"
"Officer Ryan," I gasped. "How could I ever forget?"
Officer Ryan had given me a very enthusiastic body cavity search at the airport back in Europe. Her fingers were very strong and I came all over her hand. It was actually one of the best orgasms of my entire life.
"I'd shake hands," I said, "but I'm kinda tied up at the moment."
"Oh my," Officer Ryan exclaimed, "is she always this playful?"
"Not always," Gretchen responded. "I think she's trying to impress you with how tough she is and how little all of this fazes her. When it was just me in the room with her, she was complaining how uncomfortable it was to be tied in that position."
I forced a smile to my face and tried not grunt at the strain of holding my difficult position really took its toll on my muscles.
"So, Officer Ryan, are you going to be staying with Gretchen and me for a while?"
Officer Ryan gracefully sauntered over and placed her hands on my breasts that were helplessly exposed and thrust in her direction. I trembled at her touch. I was so helpless and vulnerable the way Gretchen had me fixed, there was any number of very painful things Officer Ryan could do to my naked body right now and I was helpless to defend myself.
But rather than hurt me, Officer Ryan allowed her fingers to gently drift across my breasts, tracing lazy circles across the surface of my skin and causing my nipples to swell up and harden when her fingers gently slid across the areola of each nipple.
"Well, you did invite me to stay with you if I was ever in America," Officer Ryan responded. "I'm assuming that the offer still stands."
Officer Ryan rolled my nipples between her fingers, causing blood circulation to increase to my exposed nipples and causing me to breathe more rapidly. Then when my nipples were very swollen and erect she pinched them. The pinching was hard and painful and caused me to cry out, but then Officer Ryan went back to gently fondling my breasts and nipples. My arms and legs trembled uncontrollably as she did these things to my helpless body and made me pant like I had just run a five mile race.
God, I loved the way this woman handled my breasts! She was making me feel tingly all over. I hoped against hope that Gretchen would allow this woman to fondle and pinch my helpless, naked body rather than whipping me. I could feel an increased heat building in my exposed pussy and moisture forming on my swollen labia.
"YES," I said, perhaps a bit louder than I meant to, "Please stay as long as you like! I'd love to have you here in our house!"
"I rather thought you would say that," Gretchen responded. "After I'm done whipping you, you can help Officer Ryan unpack."
I groaned at the word "whipping" and then Officer Ryan stepped back.
"Sorry, Slave girl," she said, "but I have no intention of standing between a slave and her whipping. Whippings are important. They help to remind a slave of her status."
I knew the first blow was coming and tried to brace for it. I wanted to seem brave; especially with Officer Ryan watching; but a split second late the biting sting of the stock whip spread across the stretched skin of my abdomen and ribcage, missing my breasts by inches.
"GHAAAHH," I screamed in both pain and shock. It was much more painful than a spanking, and even the whipping I had received at the punishment park didn't hurt this much. Of course that whipping had mostly been on my back and buttocks.
The next blow was like liquid fire and it was laid across both of my breasts.
"AAUUUGHHHAGHHH!!!
The next two blows landed across the taught skin of my inner thighs. The pain was so sharp and stinging, I was certain that I was bleeding, however when I dared to look there was no blood, only angry pink lines where the whip had stung my skin.
"AHHHHHGAAHHH," I screamed so hard that my throat was raw, but I couldn't keep silent. My body was no longer under my control. I could only react to the pain; I couldn't make my body obey.
The next blazing cuts came down across my belly and felt like more liquid fire.
There were six of them.
I howled in pain and could feel the hot moisture as tears streamed down my cheeks.
"Do you see that?" Officer Ryan asked, "She's crying. Those are real tears."
"I see it," Gretchen replied. "I love it when she does that. Tears make me know that I'm doing it right. If she doesn't cry real tears I feel like it's not a real punishment.
I tried to beg for mercy, but my throat was tight and I couldn't seem to form the words, and then Gretchen swung the whip up and in between my outstretched thighs and I actually heard the THWACK of the whip hitting my pussy a split second before I felt the pain.
"GHAAAAAAAAAAWGH," I screamed as the most delicate, intimate petals of my flesh were abused with Gretchen's instrument of punishment. I sobbed uncontrollably and struggled to close my legs together.