Family Ties Ch 07

Thanks to all my readers. As always votes and comments appreciated, e-mails get a personnel reply. Dom Woolf

Chapter 07: Christine's Failure

I screamed into the gag as the lash from the whip landed across both ass cheeks indenting the already red, black, and blue flesh and feeling as if a white hot molten bar of steel was burning its way into me.

My mind was almost curiously detached from my body, the overload of sensations had flipped a breaker somewhere inside me and I, the me that was Catherine, was watching the naked body of a woman suspended by her wrists from a beam in this old barn, twisting and flailing about as the whip struck again and again leaving angry red marks that became welts of multi colors against the white background of her flesh.

I observed the steam of her breath in the freezing cold air of this late December afternoon floating away from her swaying form, her nipples tight and hard standing out from her tits. Her feet dangled inches from the dirty straw and frozen mud of the barns floor as she hung from the chains.

Could this really be me? I was a highly paid executive assistant to one of the biggest law firms in Washington, D.C., what was I doing being whipped like an old horse? The answer was so simple that even as I thought it I could see my lips smile despite the agony my body was enduring. I had fucked up and this was my punishment.

My boss had paid a lot of money to the finishing school to hire me and he expected that I, a highly trained and specialized executive assistant, would be able to live up to the claims the school had made on my behalf. I had really thought I could, after all I had graduated in the top five percent of my class. Others in my class had gone on to serve C.E.O.'s for Fortune Five Hundred Company's world wide without a problem.

I had been hired to be the hands behind the throne, the memory, and smoother for the senior law partner, so that the day to day activities, the million and one little things that need to be accomplished each and every day shouldn't intrude on the great mans time. They would just be handled, by me.

I make sure his papers are ready when he needs them, that his clothes are perfect and waiting for his use. I make sure that he knows in advance of meetings every little fact about the people he meets with.

Are the married? What's the little woman's name? Does he have kids, how old and how are they doing in school? When was the last time, "the great man" met this person and what did they talk about? What is the meeting about this time? Are there any rumors or problems about this person that He should know in advance?

I take care of the million and one things "He" is too busy to do. His wife's birthday. Reminder and present are waiting. His mistress's birthday too. His coffee and limo and plane reservations, all done by me.

Of course there are all the other little services I provide. Tense after a hard three hour work day; let me massage your poor tired shoulders. Nervous about the vote in the Senate on that key piece of legislation that will make your clients billions, not to mention what you and the firm will siphon off? A quick blow job under your desk just like the President and you can meet the Senator relaxed and confident.

I am the Executive Assistant, nothing should get past me, and nothing should get to the big man until I have examined it, cleared it, and smoothed away the rough edges. I am supposed to watch everything, check everything, and protect Him from everything.

So how did I let that reporter bug his office and plant the camera that not only provided evidence of the highest level of corruption and bribery of a U.S. Senator, but also took some damn good pictures of my cock sucking skills, which the current Mrs. Big man is using to clean him out before he gets convicted?

I fucked up.

Yes, I have excuses. I was tired, it had been a long six day week and it was late on a Saturday when I was alone and feeling down. He was cute and funny and sexy in that tight little jump suit as he took care of the plants and planted the camera and bugs.

I was horny and bored and looking for a little relief and those strong hands felt so good on my shoulders as he massaged them that I didn't protest when they edged down and began massaging my breasts. I didn't protest when he kissed the back of my ears and down my neck and I actively helped as he removed my blouse while kissing his way down to my navel and beyond.

The man could lick pussy! Oh yes he could! That hot hard tongue flicked my clit and burrowed in to my moist and overheated cunt like a snake, followed by the trouser snake that magically appeared and thrust itself deeper into me then I had been fucked in a long time.

He even took me to dinner afterwards, which kept me from sweeping the office for bugs. By the time Monday rolled around I was so busy I forgot all about the plant guy, that is until three weeks later when the F.B.I. waltzed in and arrested my boss and His wife slapped me both literally and with a subpoena to appear at his divorce proceeding.

I was in trouble. Oh yes I was, but not from the feds. They spent a week asking me questions and released me, then the lawyers for His wife spent a couple of days making my life miserable, but I was finished with all that. The people I was in trouble with caught up to me a day or so after the hoopla moved on to whatever side show caught the media's attention next.

I walked out of my apartment complex only to have a cloth bag dropped over my head and big strong arms lift me up and drop me on the floor of an already moving van. Someone placed a hand over my mouth and nose and I caught a pungent whiff of a strong chemical, after that it was lights out until I was dropped naked and chained with the bag still over my head into a drift of snow.

Someone picked me up and set me on my feet then marched me a long ways through the coldest wind I ever felt blow across my bare pussy and ass. I must have been a sight, naked with chains cuffed between my ankles, another around my waist and my wrists cuffed to it. I can just imagine how my breasts must have bounced while my little nipples hardened in the cold as I was pulled along through the snow to the barn where I now hang like a side of well tenderized beef. The bag was pulled away and a gag shoved into my mouth as someone hooked my handcuffs to a pulley and I was lifted slowly off my frozen feet.

Somewhere off behind me a woman's voice was counting the strokes of the whip as the punishment continued. It's amazing how one can be freezing cold and burning from the lash at the same time. Each stroke hits a new area, my ass must look like a sheet of red, and blue horizontally lined paper. My back is covered with matching vertical stripes. Occasionally the tip of the whip snakes between my legs to bring it's burning brand of tongue lashing across the delicate lips of my now swollen pussy or wraps itself around my body to lick across the frozen nubs of my tits and light it's fire there.

I don't remember much about the last of the whipping, somewhere around seventy five by the count of the unseen voice I must have spaced out. I don't recall being taken down or moved to this tiny iron cage. I must have been totally unconscious, because I can't for the life of me, figure out how they manipulated my body to fit in this cage. I doubt I could have placed myself in this tiny enclosure.

The cage is cold iron bars with circles placed here and there, I imagine for access. My ass is right over one of the circles on the bottom of the cage, my feet stick out between the bars, and my back is against the rear of the cage. My legs are bent so that my knees are almost lying on my breasts and the front bars of the cage is angled in such a way that the front of my knees and legs rest against them. The cage isn't tall enough for me to raise my head up, I have to keep it bent so I am looking between my tits at my spread open and oiled pussy or I would be if I didn't have my old friend the black cloth bag back over my head. My arms are parallel with my back and my wrists are cuffed to the bottom of the cage. Did I mention the entire cage is two feet off the floor, braced on some kind of swivel? I think the entire thing can be set at any angle they choose. At the present time it's angled so that my back is taking about half my weight and my pussy is front and center. The circle of metal is lined for easy access to my cunt if anyone should want to reach in.

At the moment the only thing reaching my pussy is waves of heat from an electric space heater pointed directly at the hole in the cage. The heat is also warming the front bars of the cage to a uniformly uncomfortable degree.

I must still be in the barn because I can smell hay and manure and other barn type smells while experiencing the cold on my backside that only an unheated space like the barn could provide. Hot and cold seem to be the order of the day, parts of me are freezing, parts are burning, and all of my body is in agony from the whipping, the confinement, and the knowledge that this is only the beginning.

I am in big trouble.

My mind wanders as my body endures, back along the path that led me here. I was a typical rebellious teenager, never in big trouble but screwing up enough that my grades suffered. The summer before my senior year in high school my father decided he'd had enough. He announced that I was going to spend my summer vacation in a special school for young ladies. I would be taught the academics I would need to graduate and be trained for a field of employment for which I was best suited.

I, of course, told him to go to hell. I would decide what I wanted to do after high school; after all I would be an adult. My father, of course, took this pronouncement in stride, agreed that I would be an adult and so should decide my own fate.

Like hell.

He turned me over his knee, pulled my jeans down, and proceeded to offer reasons why his way might be my best course of action which I tearfully agreed to about twenty minutes later once I fully understood all his reasons for wanting me to succeed in life. In other words he beat my ass raw and gave me no choice in the matter.

That was how I found myself at the Woodward Private Institute, a finishing school for girls featuring and I quote "private therapeutic treatment programs for young women."

According to Mr. Woodward, the current headmaster, "Elegant, exclusive, challenging, charming, and practical, The Institute will prepare you for a role in the business world and society, aiming to help you become both an efficient, creative hostess as well as a career woman who understands varied cultural customs and is more effective in multicultural environments and dealings.

Founded in 1854 by the great grand-mother of the present headmaster, the Institute has developed a unique know-how in International Business and Social Etiquette as well as Diplomatic Protocol. The Finishing program, whilst keeping the best of tradition is also geared to the modern woman. Since 1904, the school also provides its knowledge to other schools and to the corporate world."

I was listening very attentively to his pontification, not that I had a great deal of choice, I was tied to a form of spanking bench. My arms spread out to either end of a cross beam while I was forced to bend slightly at the waist, my belly pressed up against a padded bolster, my legs were stretched upwards forcing me to be on tip toe and my ankles were cuffed together. This position I would soon learn left the derriere pointed outwards and level and was the perfect position to administrate a needed correction of attitude.

My Father was seated in a large leather chair, listening to Mr. Woodward whilst being able to keep a watchful eye on his wayward child's first disciplinary adventure.

Did I mention I had been stripped naked? Something about my clothing being inappropriate to a young lady embarking on her final education experience. I had been ordered to put on the uniform of the school, a rather demure dress with a full skirt and boots. I had declined. The headmaster insisted. When I protested he called in two of the schools "social directors" who proceeded to strip and tie me in my current state awaiting correction.

Mr. Woodward didn't keep me waiting long. He produced an oak paddle with holes drilled through the board to cut down on air resistance and proceeded to give me five swats or as he called them demerits. The first had me yowling to the moon as it felt as if my ass had been permanently shattered.

My Father walked over and examined my bright red and uniquely marked (those damned holes) ass. I felt his hands roam over my naked butt for the first time since I was a baby. Sure he had spanked me but always over my panties, never on my bare butt. Now his hands explored me in a way that both made me nervous and in some ways excited me.

He returned to his chair and watched with a strange gleam in his eye as the remaining four demerits were administrated.

"I see she will be in good hands, Mr. Woodward." Father stood next to me shaking hands with the headmaster. My Father reached down and fondled my dangling breasts. "Be good darling and maybe you can return home for the Holiday break."

With that my Father strode from the room and my education began. It was to be three long years before I would see my family again. I was not the easiest student to break of my "Many bad habits, poor deportment, and dismal attitude."

The headmaster explained the rules of the school, what classes I was to begin with, and the punishments for failure. He then released me from the bench and had me stand in front of him as he examined me in very fine detail while questioning me about school, my classes and grades and life in general. He then began to ask me about my attitudes towards sex, getting more detailed and intimate as he went along.

I remember a few of the questions.

"Have you preformed oral sex on a boy, on a man, on other female students or teachers?"

Yes. No. No, and God no.

"Have you ever had intercourse? Were you tied up at the time? Have you ever fantasized about members of your family?

Yes. (Once with a senior I thought I was in love with and I sweated for two months worried I got pregnant.) No! Of course not. (Not until my Father started to feel me up, Oh My.)

All the time he was quizzing me about my intimate and almost non existent sex life, his hands were roaming about my body in ways I hadn't been touched except by a doctor.

Once he finished he took several pictures of me nude from several angles and then had me dress in the school dress. At this point I didn't even ask why there was no underwear, I was just glad to be covered.

The headmaster printed out my class schedule on his computer and handed me my schedule and room assignment. I was then given into the hands of one of the social directors and told he would make sure I was given the needed instruction. The next few hours would always be a blur in my mind as I was taken to be fitted for school clothes (stripped again in front of several of the facility and measured more thoroughly then I had ever been measured in my life) and gym clothes and "other equipment?" I was taken to my room, a dorm shared with three other girls and shown my four poster bed, closet, and dressing table.

I was given a schedule that according to my instructor was to be followed to the letter. I was also given a list of demerits and was told each demerit would be corrected on Friday evenings after class. Demerits could also be removed for achievements in classes or in extra curricular activities which would be explained at a later date.

I was taken to the schools dining hall and given a tray of food from the kitchen. I was told to observe the other students at dinner and take my cues from them but for tonite I was just to eat and go up to bed.

I watched as the other students all dressed in long skirts, short sleeve blouses, and boots, glided into the room, and sat with straight backs hands folded in their laps and waited for the signal to begin their dinner.

I was sure I could never be as smooth and confidant as these young women. I was doomed. Once back in my room I crawled into bed naked and cried myself to sleep.

Back in my cage I must have fallen asleep also because the rocking of the cage and a disgruntled bitching awoke me. I could feel someones hands stroking my sex and feeling the inside of my thighs. The heat was turned off much to my relief even if my backside was cramped from the cold and not moving for however long I had been in here. The heat was turned back on but this time from behind me and felt wonderful.

That's when I felt the fingers covered in some kind of slippery substance began coating my pussy and then move down and grease my anus. Something heavy was dragged over in front of me and then I felt a cold hard surface touch both my ass and pussy. I heard a click and felt the cold object begin to press into my ass. I groaned, I squirmed as much as I could to no avail. It pressed against the clenched little ring until it gave up the fight. The thing forced its way into my ass.

God, it was cold. I could feel my muscles and intestines beginning to cramp from the intrusion of so much cold in an area that was used to being warm. Then it began to withdraw and another cold hard thick thing began to press into the normally warm and moist pussy until I was filled to painful proportions. Back and forth the things filled and vacated my holes, changing speeds and times that they either laid still at my opening or pressed to the limits my crammed full innards.

Just as I got to the point where I could at least tolerate this particular intrusion the damn things began to heat up to a painful degree and vibrate and twist and cool down to freezing. Anything one could do to an inanimate object rammed in a sheath of flesh these damn things did.

Once every minute or so the damn things even came, squirting hot or cold goo that coated my insides and kept the damn things from ripping me apart.

How long I endured this particular punishment I couldn't say but to me it seemed like my whole life had narrowed to friction in my ass and pussy and heat and cold.

Despite the cramped position, the heat, and the cold, my body started to respond to the driving twisting movement stimulating my nether regions. They must have noticed. Of course they noticed. What kind of torturers would they be if they didn't notice?

I heard a sound, a crackling, a noise I should have recognized. The electrical shock delivered directly to my clit, lit up my entire body. Muscles spasmed, nerves screamed and my body slammed against the cold and hot iron bars, repeatedly.

It ended finally and my body slumped against my cage. Now I could identify the sound. A high powered tens unit. Nero-electrical stimulation, at low power, a therapeutic device to stimulate muscles and nerves for physical therapy. At the level it was used on me it was purely a pain and punishment device. Emphasis on punishment! My muscles had cramped or been strained, nerves had been fried. Too much, too much to handle, I drifted away.

My first day in my new school started with one of the s.d.'s hauling me out of bed and dumping my naked ass on the floor.

"Young ladies do not sleep in the nude. Two demerits. Sleeping through morning wake up; two demerits." He stood looking down at my naked body with distain. "If you don't wish to receive more demerits I would suggest you perform your morning toilet and present yourself to breakfast in the next five minutes." He strode out of the room without a backward glance.

My wonderful roommates had quite deliberately not awakened me, leaving me to the tender mercies of the social director. I rushed to wash my face and put on one of the dresses I found in my closet before rushing to the dining hall. I made it in just under five minutes only to discover that morning breakfast dress is gym clothes as everyone's first class in the morning is physical education. I received two demerits for being "inappropriately dressed."