This is Part 2 (please read part 1 for backstory), again purely fictional, hope you enjoy, welcome any comments or feedback.
xxxxxx
I was taken down a long dark corridor, at the end was a door leading down some stone steps down to a single barred cell. Inside was a sparsely furnished bedroom with a basic ensuite. I collapsed in the bed and uncomfortably slept.
Day 1 am
When I woke I had no idea of the time. The only light in the room was a simple bedside, I switched in on and went to the en suite. I showered, the warm water soothing on my skin except for between my legs which were still red raw from last night's whipping. I washed, gently, and returned to bed, then lie there for hours contemplating my decision. Surely this was illegal, surely I could just front them out and end this. But then they would certainly out me as a cheat and remove my title, even if just out of spite, and what the hell had I signed? Was it legally binding? Shit!
I'm snapped out of my dilemmas by the door above me creaking open, followed by heavy footsteps of the guard. I watch his black leather boots clump down the stairs. They stop outside my cell doors, I'm still looking at the boots.....
"Morning" He says
I look up nervously, he has a tray in his hands, he opens a section of the cell and passes it through. I take it off him suddenly aware how hungry I am.
"I'll be back for you later" he says in a matter of fact way, and turns and stomps up the stairs and out of the cell room.
I take the food, it's simple pastries and fruit but I eat it - partly to satisfy hunger, partly to distract me.
After eating I tried to sleep, but it was impossible, my mind spinning. Seconds, minutes, hours.... all meant nothing, it felt like an eternity, until the door creaked open, when suddenly time fast forwarded to the present.
Again I watch his boots down the steps, it's mesmerising.
This time he throws my bikini set into the cell.
"Put it on" He says
I pick it up - still not meeting his eyes, it's my show bikini. I turn my back to him and put it on gingerly, the bikini fabric feeling rough and grating on my whipped cunt.
"And the shoes"
I forgot about them, I look around the room and see them against the far wall, I walk over and step into them. It fells weird to be dressed just as I was for the competition, yet in a cell awaiting god knows what....
He unlocks the cell, holding a pair of cuffs in his hands.
"Wrists" He says sternly.
I lift my wrists a little, not making it easy for him and he grabs the and lifts them up roughly cuffing one then the other.
He pushes me up the stairs, the action alone rubs my pussy painfully.
Back into the long dark corridor, I shiver, but am not sure if it's cold or whether it's just nerves. I walk awkwardly in front of the guard trying to ease the rubbing of my bikini on the reddened flesh of my pussy. The guard stops me in front of a door, he opens it and guides me in.
Inside is a large crucifix cross, standing next to it the finance director, with the same evil grin on his face as when he suggested 'article 17'.
Ignoring me completely he instructs the guard.
"Put her in position"
The guard pulls me over to the cross backing me against it. He undoes my cuffs and loops my arms over the beam behind me. I consider resisting, but his grip is so strong I know I couldn't stop him. He pulls my wrists together and attaches them to the central beam. It's uncomfortable, pulling my shoulders back......but more worryingly, thrusting my tits out. He leans down and wraps a heavy strap fixed to the beam around my legs just above my knees. I can't move.
The finance director walks up to me, he strokes my cheek with his palm, but there is no tenderness in his cold severe eyes.
"How is your pussy." He asks
"How do you think" I reply snappily
He reaches down and grabs my crotch, I wince which he seems to enjoy, then he roughly rubs me through my bikini bottoms. I whimper and try to close my legs to stop him but to little effect.
"Im glad you have a reminder of your punishment, let's see if I can give you something else to think about."
He reaches behind and undoes the bow of my bikini top behind my neck. It's more difficult for him to undo the one behind my back, I make it as difficult as possible without making it obvious but he succeeds and I watch my bikini top fall away from my breasts.
He runs his fingers over my nipples.
"Lovely erect nipples." He says
"It's cold in here" I mumble, still not sure if it is or not.
"Well let's see if we can warm you up." He says and turns his back to me. He takes his jacket off and walks over to a wall when he turns his back he has a thin leather belt in his hand.
He positions himself to my side, takes aim, then whips me across both my tits. I gasp in pain and glare over at him, it wasn't a good idea, he just grins back
"50, to match your pussy whipping."
I fight against my bonds, it's pointless, I'm reminded so when the belt whips across my tits again.
I clench my teeth and look forward, trying to zone out.....it doesn't work and I'm soon yelling out at each cruel strike.
The worst are the ones that catch my nipples they hurt like mad.
After a while, I guess halfway, he swaps sides to stand to my right. I look down at my tits, the skin is red, my right tit especially red.
"Halfway." He announces inspecting my breasts. "Think we're doing ok, but I want to make extra sure you are going to remember your tit whipping."
He turns to the wall again and this time comes back with a longer, thinner whip. He takes a further step back and......whoosh.
The whip is far more painful than the belt, cutting into my flesh.
I lose count of the whips, my tits are on fire, each whip a painful stinging pain. Towards the end I'm crying out and stamping my feet with each strike.
Finally, the whipping stops and the finance director puts the whip down and steps in front of me. He inspects my breasts, satisfied with the angry red stripes crossing my tits, he cups them in each hand and squeezes them tightly, enjoying my grimace of pain. He then pinches my nipples hard.
"Aaahhhh!" I moan
"Now......tell me......will you remember, your tit whipping, slut?" Twisting my nipples
"Yes, yes I will." I pant desperately.
"Good" He says and slides a hand down the front of my bikini bottoms. I clench automatically as he rubs my pussy, but not roughly like before, he lightly strokes his finger tips, gently exploring. He slides his index finger slowly up and down my slit, it doesn't hurt, his finger slides easily and readily.....oh god no! I realise my pussy is wet. Instinctively I try to clench my legs together but I can't. He smiles back at me, his finger now parting my lips.
"I'm so glad you chose article 17, I had a feeling you would"
He eases his finger inside of me, I try desperately not to react, I don't want to give him any satisfaction, but I'm embarrassingly wet. He continues to finger me and I hate him for it, I hate the humiliation of being wet, of him thinking he's turning me on......but something else....I hate the frustration of him not touching my clit, I could come so easily.
He withdraws his finger, proudly holding it up in front of me, I hate him even more.
