Punishment to enjoy
The humiliating experience had hurt Donna deeper than she at first had thought. She was used to the humiliation by now, but this time it felt different.
The first sign of its true impact came during her ride to work afterwards. She experienced several fits where she just started to cry uncontrollably. Tears just poured out of her eyes, she hyperventilated, and she was forced to stop the car to calm down.
She couldn't control these emotions, the physical reaction. She hadn't had outburst like these since her teenage years and now they came to her if her mind only slightly wandered back to her whore session. And it was almost impossible not to think of that, worse so once she had these intense reactions.
It made her feel so much weaker and insecure. They had again cut straight through all her boundaries, deep into her very soul. They again had made her do things she never wanted to do, never had imagined she would do.
She knew they had made her cross a boundary that was just one too far. She felt her mind just couldn't handle it; she was breaking down.
Finally, at her job, things didn't fare any better; to the contrary, Donna had extreme difficulty concentrating on her work and her frequent cry sessions in the bathroom didn't help either.
On top of that her own body betrayed her too. It by now associated the bathroom with scratching her two itches which therefore flared up every time she went. She was thus forced to use a dildo and twist and turn her butt plug as she went through a cry session. This demeaning state in turn made her ramble even longer, hurting herself even deeper.
Next the information from Carol proved to be more of a curse than a blessing. A too-enthusiastic Mrs. Cullington followed up on it, and as a result gave Donna much more work than she could handle. Her boss mistakenly thought Donna would be happy if she was in the spotlight.
Normally she would have been, but now however the praises sounded hollow; the job itself now reminded Donna too much of Ms. Brendan, her torturer. It had been an escape before, but it had lost its glamour.
Now it felt much more as just part of the trap she was in, part of the overwhelming force ruling her life, controlling her every step.
The most misplaced praise by her boss was when she promised she would arrange for Donna to meet Mrs. Carol more often, again to get Donna more into the spotlight.
That was the very last thing Donna wanted, being exposed to her first client on a regular basis. She could just hear the bitches laugh at her, laugh at her pitiful state. However, how could she refuse?
Donna could do little more than mouth a "thank you" to Mrs. Cullington as tears sprung into her eyes, and she excused herself and went to the bathrooms again. A move her boss mistakenly thought was out of sheer joy.
A deeply depressed Donna finally left the office. In her hands a pile of papers still to process and she knew that it would be a very, very long night for her.
Her next appointment, the gym, was a continuation of her penance. Bill, Mr Jersey now, had a gruesome schedule ready for her, to get rid of the extra fat gathered during her 'holidays'.
Donna now noticed another change in her. This 'punishment', as unjust as it was, became more a kind of relief. All she had to do was to force herself to reach the quotas set per machine. All she had to do was to physically exhaust her body, physically hurt herself. No more thinking of anything else.
Strangely enough to Donna she noticed she felt she actually did deserve this gruesome treatment. It felt as a just reward for her own actions, her own stupidity. She found herself working her own body to the limit, without mercy, and feeling good about it.
She ended up hurting all over but feeling so good, so fulfilled. And Mr. Jersey's compliments on a job well done felt like icing on the cake. It was so satisfying knowing she really had hurt herself to the max.
Donna's new, awkward, emotions got her wondering how much she was changing body and soul. As she showered and got ready to go home, she tried to analyze them, but noticed she felt much better if she was distracted by the pain of her muscles. She didn't want to think about herself. She wanted to forget the emotional wreck she was right now. Dwelling in the self-inflicted pain was so much better.
Her last stop for the day was her own home, where Ninon would most likely be waiting for her. She had enough reasons to punish Donna. Donna had not followed her numerous rules to the letter on the previous days, and how could she had done so today?
And she didn't feel she had done such a good job at Ms. Brendan's... Donna just knew Ninon would be merciless, she had been so the previous days. And... she really hoped Ninon would be.
Moreover, her own stupidity hit home once again just when she parked her car. Suddenly, Donna recalled she didn't even know for how much she had sold herself!
This truly amazed herself; she never had seen herself as a truly dumb cunt, but this... How could she have been so stupid? Going through all this humiliation, all the effort, all these emotions, and not even using the one single benefit it could have given her!
Donna wanted to kick herself, and she felt a wave of relief going through her as she walked up to the house and saw a stern Ninon awaiting her in the open door with a whip in hand. How she had to be hurt badly!
--
Donna wasn't let down. A cold Ninon instructed her to come inside and undress immediately. She got a harsh sharp lash on her butt for not being fast enough, which made her yelp out loud. Donna had not expected to be hit already in the hallway; usually she was lashed only in the safe 'guest' room.
Donna undressed quickly, for fear the neighbors would hear her shrieks if she was hit more. Naked, except for her nylons and heels, she was then led into the living room, not to the soundproof room.
"Bend over the table" Ninon ordered.
"But... the neighbors...?" Donna reasoned.
A harsh lash on her, half exposed, breast followed, which made Donna howl in pain.
"Bend over the table, stupid cunt." Ninon told her one more time.
Donna fearfully bent over and grasped the glass table firmly. She saw the angry red mark on her breast, and felt it go on to her side. She was never hit this hard, this cruelly, by Ninon.
"Please, please, Mrs. Bondain, please don't do it here..." Donna begged, "The curtains, the noise..."
"Shut up, Cutty." Ninon just said, as the whip swiped through the air again, hitting her straight on her back. Another harsh shriek of Donna followed.
"Just do as your told, make it easier for yourself." Ninon explained as she walked up to Donna.
She grabbed her by her hair, lifted her head and they looked each other in the eye.
"How is my little whore doing. Did you enjoy selling yourself, cheap cunt?" Ninon spoke venomously, "Don't you feel stupid now. Really dumb, a low life slut?
"And I was told you have been crying a lot on the job." Ninon went on, as her whip caressed Donna's back, "It's a little late for fake remorse isn't it?
"You volunteered to sell yourself didn't you. I mean, nobody was really putting a gun to your head or so. You even celebrated the achievement, didn't you."
Donna felt so ashamed as she shook her head in agreement, crying again.
"I did hear you have outdone yourself at the gym. Was it fun flaunting your sweaty body for Bill? Trying to get him to fuck you? You know you are a staunched lesbian now, aren't you?"
Donna didn't understand this, but just shook her head again.
