Ilysa Gets Caught
Author's note: It's always a good idea to start with Chapter 1 to have the best understanding of the plot.
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He pushed Ilysa ahead of them, her hands bound tightly behind her, her head covered with a hood. She let out a surprised yelp when they stopped her by pulling harshly on her long hair.
"Ilysa," she heard Rick cry out in surprise and alarm.
"Oh, my god!" Sandy was here, too. That had been his voice.
Neither sounded quite like themselves, but she was sure it was they.
The room smelled of sweat and other things she couldn't identify, things that were an affront to her olfactories.
Someone pulled the hood from her head. She blinked, but in the low light she could see little. As her eyes became accustomed to the light she saw both Sandy and Rick. They stood with their feet on the floor, but their arms were stretched high above them. They had been stripped naked.
"So you three thought you'd be able to rob me," their captor said sarcastically. "I'm still thinking about what to do with you." He was pushing Ilysa ahead of him as he walked around the two bound men. "You do know you should be punished." He picked up a crop from a table strewn with tools most of which looked as though their use would be quite painful.
Another circuit, crop in hand. Rick and Sandy were both swatted with the crop as he circled them. It left red marks on their buttocks and their abdomens. He took slow, purposeful aim at Rick's genitals. Rick shied, but there was no hiding. The blow drew from him a long, low, guttural cry of pain. His penis had been shrunken against his body leaving the sensitive tip to take the entire force of the blow.
Ilysa could think of nothing she could do to prevent him from doing whatever he wanted. Another person stood near the door while a third sat in a chair smirking. "What do you think I should do?" He pulled Ilysa's head backward pulling on her long hair. She grimaced, but said nothing. "I think your friends would like to watch while I had some fun with you." He pulled harder on her hair. She gasped. In the background Rick was still moaning in pain.
He had stopped circling the two men. He turned Ilysa to face them. She tried to avoid looking at their nakedness on display. With a sickening feeling she wondered if it was her fault that they'd ended up in this horrible room? As she avoided their eyes she couldn't seem to avoid looking at their nakedness. Her stare caused Rick to swell. From shrunken she watched as it lengthened ever so slowly. She quickly looked away. Then noticed that Sandy was swelling as well.
She looked toward the floor willing herself not to look at them.
Her captor seemed not to notice. "I think we'll start with you." His harsh voice was in her ear. His lips brushed against her. She shook her head and tried to move away, but he held her fast by her hair. Slowly he released the tension on her hair as he told her to lean over. "Lean over on this table," he was saying. "I want your butt high in the air." He had let go of her entirely now. He was sure of himself. There was nowhere for her to go. No way for her to do them harm. He untied her hands.
She turned her back to Sandy and Rick and leaned over the table with little hope of preventing him from doing whatever he had in mind. The table was a sheet of steel welded onto four steel legs. It was cold. She braced herself against it, the table top against her thighs. "Lean over," he insisted. Slowly she leaned down. "Further. I want your butt where I can get to it." He was stroking her bottom now as he spoke. The feel of his hands on her butt was frightening. He squeezed and rubbed, then felt between her legs. His fingers were against her pussy as she continued to lean further. When he touched her most private place, she stopped and clamped her legs together.
Her head, her body felt strange. She was no longer feeling like herself. She could feel his fingers on her pussy. Her head was not quite right. Her body seemed to be not quite hers. She felt as though she was sinking out of sight.
"What are you waiting for?" He was forcing his hand between her legs again. Squeezing as tightly as she could to keep him from between her legs, she braced herself on her forearms. The cold steel made her shiver. Her hair fell around her lowered face. He patted her butt. "That's better, but we need to make it even better, don't we." His mouth was near her ear again. "Your two friends are going to get to watch while I punish you." She steeled herself.
The crop landed on her denim pants. It didn't hurt. She worried that this was only foreplay.
His mouth was near again. "You hardly felt that. You won't believe you've been really punished unless you can feel the pain. Let's get these heavy pants off." She tensed. Hopeless, she waited. He lay the crop next to her arm. His hand snaked its way around her waist. She sucked in her breath as it came to the button on the black denim jeans. She didn't move as he released the button and lowered the zipper. He pulled on them dropping them as far as her knees.
"That's better." He was purring now. His hand was caressing her butt again. "Maybe the punishment will work now." The crop fell on her butt again. He wasn't hitting her hard. "Did that even make a red mark," he asked rhetorically. She felt him lift the waistband of her panties. She flinched. This had to be where he was headed. If the men were naked, she'd soon be naked as well. He was playing with her, playing with the men.
He hit her again. Lifted her panties again. "Nothing. We'll have to remove these as well." He snapped the waistband.
The voice was against her ear again, "Stand up." She stood. He stood with her and turned her toward the men. He pointed with the crop. Not just pointed with the crop but pushed its tip against her pussy. "You'll need to push your panties down." He tapped her pussy several times.
Dejected Ilysa complied. As she did she stole a glance. Both of the men had lengthened. He was creating this erotic episode for them! Her panties were at her knees. The tip of the crop, a flat piece of leather, was being worked up and down her thighs, across the lips of her pussy. He said nothing. Ilysa stole another glance. It was having an effect on Sandy and Rick.
"Lean your ass back against the table." She turned and positioned herself. Everyone in the room would be able to see. They would watch her butt redden and see her lips swell with pain.
The blow fell. It surprised her. She yelped, "Ow."
"That didn't hurt. Certainly not as much as it's going to." She said nothing but stiffened waiting for the next blow. It fell, harder this time. She let out no cry, but waited for the next. Instead his hand felt her butt and crept down between her legs.
When the hand left her butt, it stopped fingering her lips. Then the blow fell on her butt again. Not hard, but hard enough that it smarted. There were more, but they were not hard to bear. He was doing this for the effect it had on the men. A few of the blows fell between her legs, on the lips of her pussy. It stung like a wasp. If he really hurt her, she began to think, Sandy and Rick might not find that erotic. Her reddened butt and pussy might be erotic, however. But why should that be important. Why should it be important that she be used to get them hard?
"Stand up and turn around." No longer frightened, she complied. She stood facing Rick and Sandy. She avoided their eyes, but in doing so looked at their bodies. They were hard, though now they began to droop. She stood waiting.
"I want to punish you more, but you need to help me. I know you want to help me make your punishment worthwhile." She couldn't stop staring at Rick and Sandy's nude bodies. "You're rather wet, my dear." Indeed her pussy lips glistened. He inserted a finger then held it out for all to see.
Oh, god, she thought, don't tell me that that little spanking was making her hot. Maybe it had to do with that stuff he'd made her drink before they came in here. "Hold yourself open so I can see better." Her head began to spin. Hold myself open? She was immobile. A sharp snap and subsequent pain on her hip brought her back. "Hold yourself open!" He was getting angry. She'd never held herself open.
With both hands she pulled her lips apart. Was this what he wanted, she hoped. The leather tip of the crop caressed her clit and worked its way down her thigh. She let go. "Hold it open!" The crop fell on her thigh as he screamed at her.
Frightened now she held herself open again. "Don't let go until I tell you you can!" The crop fell again, but not as hard.
"I'm going to use the crop on your little clit," he said caressing the tip against her clit. "It's going to hurt." He kept caressing her clit. "It won't hurt at first because I won't hit it hard." He gave her clit a light tap. She jumped, but didn't release her grip. "You just need to hold yourself open."
He had been standing between her and the men. Now he moved. They were hard. Just listening to him they were hard. Now as they watched their cocks throbbed. He hit her much harder. She cried out and jumped. The cocks throbbed. "See," he said. "They like to see you punished." He hit her again. She shrieked and trembled, but held herself open. "Good, good. Now you get the idea." He beamed.
She continued to feel strange. It was almost as if she wanted the punishment. Earlier she remembered thinking, they're going to torture us to death, and she was frightened. She was no longer thinking about being killed. Her thoughts were beginning to focus on being punished with an intensity that was short of desire. The blows stung when they fell, but as the stinging subsided, she was left looking forward to the next blow. She was confused. The sight of the crop frightened her, but the aftermath left her with a visceral yearning for the stinging pleasure that followed the blow.
She held herself open. Her hips flexed forward to meet the crop.
The sharp sting. The pleasure.
No blow fell. Disappointment.
"Now dear we need to work on your titties. You do want me to work on your pretty titties, don't you?" He continued to beam. Both Sandy and Rick's mouths hung partially open. They didn't seem to notice. There were droplets of fluid on the tips of their cocks. Their faces were strained as though something were building inside them.
"Hand me the rest of your clothes and I'll put them over here." She let go where she had been holding herself open for him. She worked on the buttons and other catches holding together her remaining clothing. Looking around she could see that she was the center of attention. Perhaps, a fleeting thought informed her, it wasn't she that was the center of attention, but her breasts.
They had started with her most private parts and worked, almost backward, to a part of her she often used to tease men. She would show the tops of her breasts. She would let them see her hard nipples poking at the fabric of a light blouse. There was little left but to actually let them look at except her nipples themselves.
That seemed right, but she knew it was wrong. Still she was anxious to be naked; to experience next sensation; to feel the blows on her breasts, her nipples. She dropped her bra and stared at the hard cocks in front of her.
