Unblocing Carole

Chapter 6: Carole Stars in a Movie

Carole watches the image on the TV screen with horror as the camera pans up from her feet, pauses for a while on her naked crotch, pans past her belly to pause on her tits, then moves past her face to show her hands tied to the bar before moving in for a close-up on her face.

James: Please state your name for the record.

Carole: Carole, sir.

J: Carole, why are you standing there naked, with your arms bound above your head?

C: I'm about to be punished, sir.

J: What for?

C: I haven't written a story in months, sir, and now, despite your help, I wrote a piece of crap.

J: I see. Is there anything else you're being punished for?

C: I have been forbidden to orgasm, sir, yet I keep trying to get off when I think you aren't looking.

J: And what is your punishment to be?

C: I'm to be whipped, sir.

The camera moves to focus on the whip.

J: With this?

C: Yes, sir.

J: How many lashes are you due?

C: I don't know, sir.

J: What part or parts of your body are to be whipped?

C: I don't know, sir.

J: Is this the first time you've been punished?

C: No, sir. I was punished yesterday.

J: Tell the viewers about it.

C: I was secured on a whipping bench.

The camera shows a close-up of the bench then moves back to Carole's face.

C: I received twelve strokes of the strap on my ass, then three of the cane there and three on the soles of my feet. Sir.

J: Turn around, Carole.

The camera shows a close up of her ass. The cane marks are clearly visible on top of a fading red background with some evidence of bruising.

J: Were the strokes on your ass painful?

C: Sir, I was in agony and begging for it to stop by the time I was halfway through.

J: Did your begging have any effect?

C: No, sir. I got every stroke that I deserved.

J: Lift your left foot.

She does and the camera shows the red raised lines on her sole.

J: Other foot.

Same...

J: Did those strokes on your feet hurt a lot?

C: I don't have words to describe it, sir.

J: A writer without words.

C: They still hurt, sir. Standing on the hard floor is quite painful.

J: I could give you a cushion to stand on.

C: That would be very kind, sir.

J: Do you think you deserve one?

Carole considers this for a moment

C: No, sir, I don't.

J: Why not?

C: Because I haven't written anything worthwhile in months and I'm a slut who can't control her sexual urges.

J: That was very good, Carole. You've summarized things very well. Don't forget the 'sir'.

C: Sir

J: How would you feel about any one seeing this film-family, friends, co-workers, complete strangers?

C: Horrible, sir. Terribly ashamed. I don't think I could ever face them again.

J: Because you're naked?

C: Partly, sir.

J: You have a very nice body.

C: Thank you, sir.

J: So then you don't have to be ashamed of showing it.

C: I guess not, sir. But I'm ashamed for people to see me being punished-to hear my cries of pain. I want people to think I'm strong.

J: Well, maybe you won't cry out.

C: I'll try not to, sir, but I'm not sure I can control myself if it hurts too much.

J: It will hurt, Carole, a lot. You know that, don't you?

C: Yes, sir, I am quite sure it will be terribly painful.

James moves close to her and strokes her face.

J: Be strong, Carole. The only way out is through.

C: Yes, sir. I'll try my best.

J: Now turn around with your back to the camera. I'm going to give you six lashes on your back.

Carole turns around as ordered.

J: I want you to count them.

C: Yes, sir.

J: Loud and clear enough for the microphone to pick it up.

C: Yes, sir.

J: Are you ready?

C: I hope so, sir.

He draws the whip back and slashes it across her shoulder blades. Carole is pushed forward by the force of the blow. Bright red streaks appear on her upper back. She struggles to catch her breath for a moment, then speaks.

C: One.

J: One what?

C: One, sir.

He strikes again, more or less on the same spot. Carole grips the bar and hops from foot to foot, trying to deal with the burning sting. Her voice is strained as she speaks.

C: Two, sir.

He delivers the third stroke, a bit lower.

C: Oooooh!

He waits. Finally she is able to say it.

C: Three, sir.

J: Did that one hurt?

C: Yes, sir.

J: You'll let me know about this one then.

The fourth stroke wraps around her torso, the end of the tails hitting the side of her right breast. She twists madly and cries out.

C: Owwww! Sir, please, not my poor tits!

He waits. Finally...

C: Four, sir.

J: Only two more in this part. I'll try to make them good.

The next one lands higher, on top of the first two. She jumps, twisting her body back and forth. Her tits swing from side to side.

C: Aiiii! Five, sir.

The sixth lash wraps around, scoring her breast again. Carole hangs silently. All the microphone hears is her panting for breath and, once she takes in enough air, some soft sobs.

J: I'm waiting.

She draws a deep breath and manages to respond.

C: Six, sir.

The camera zooms in on her upper back. It's a mess of bright red streaks. There is no blood, but a few of the worst spots look like the skin could break under any further assault.

J: If you twist your head, you can see your back on the TV.

She takes a quick look and turns away, shocked by the sight.

J: Now turn around.

She turns around. The camera zooms in on her face, which is streaked with tears. Then it pans down to her breasts. The side of the right one is scored with bright red lines, where the ends of the tails wrapped.

J: I see I got your breast with a couple of those.

C: Yes, sir.

J: I bet that hurt.

C: It was awful, sir. I feel it burning still.

J: You have lovely breasts, Carole.

C: Thank you, sir.

J: I bet they're very sensitive.

C: They are, sir.

J: It's a shame that the whip only kissed the side of one. What would you think about taking a few lashes directly on them?

Carole shakes her head and begins sobbing again.

C: Please, sir! No! Not on my tits! I'll take more on my back, but not there!

She starts to turn around, to present her back for more punishment.

J: No! Turn back towards me! This is not negotiable. Three on the boobs! Any more trouble and I'll make it six!

She turns back to face the camera, her head hanging in utter defeat. He adjusts the camera to focus on her breasts.

J: It's only three, so no need to count.

He strikes across her chest. Immediately, bright red lines spring up across the tender breast flesh.

C: Moans loudly.

He strikes again. This time he catches the nipple on her left breast with a couple of the tails.

C: Wordless howls...

The blow appears to have stunned her to the extent that her legs give way and she hangs by her arms.

J: Back on your feet. One more to go.

She struggles back onto her feet.

He strikes again, again hitting on the areolae.

C: More wordless howls.

Her breasts are streaked with livid red marks. She is sobbing, staring down at her poor abused titties. He raises the camera to her face and walks over to her. He strokes her hair, which is damp with sweat. He kisses her on the cheek.

J: I know it hurts, Carole. But I really think we are almost there and you will be able to write again. Just a few more on your back and I think we will be there.

C: Please, sir. I'm begging you! I can't take any more! It hurts so much!

J: It would be a shame to stop now when we are so close to a breakthrough. Turn around.

C: Oh, god help me!

Despite her fear and shame, she obeys and turns so her back is facing the camera. He focuses it on her upper back.

J: No need to count. I'll know when it's enough.

He strikes across her shoulder blades. Carole's body gyrates wildly.

C: Please! Stop! It hurts so much!

He strikes again in the same spot. There is a small trickle of red from the worst hit area. She is too exhausted now to beg or even to shout out her agony. She can only moan softly.

Another lash. The trickle is a bit stronger now and there is a second spot where the skin is broken.

J: OK. I think that should get the writing juices going. That's a wrap.

The screen fades to black.