Chapter 3: Is it Pain, or pleasure?...

They came and released Kristen three hours after Jimmy and his group had left. Although she wasn't aware of it the men in the next room had stopped coming in fifteen minutes earlier and she hadn't had a cock thrusting deep into her throat since then.

They had to be careful how they unfastened the head restraints as the copious amounts of cum that covered her chin and chest acted as an adhesive, bonding firmly with the equal amounts of cum covering the wall. But with a soft damp cloth they wiped around the area until she could be pulled into the centre of the room without tearing her skin. Next came the vibrator.

Her legs didn't need to be opened, they were already splayed wide apart, accommodating the continuously buzzing sex tool as it brought her, yet again to a massive orgasm. As it reached its peak she gave a small moan and her eyelids fluttered briefly as she felt the gut clenching spasm sweep through her entire body. They waited until it was over then swiftly removed the toy from a widely dilated vagina. Immediately her thighs were soaked with streams of lubricating juices that had been trapped inside her.

Then they lifted her onto the hospital trolley and wheeled her out of the room.

"Let her sleep for a while " said one of them.

They pushed the trolley into an elevator that took them down three flights. Then they wheeled her through a door with the number 16 moulded from brass screwed to it. They fastened her body to the trolley with wide, leather straps and left her there to gain what sleep she could...

four hours later...

Kristen swung upside down tethered by her ankles to the rope that dangled from the ceiling. This was her idea and she was determined to go through with it even though she was unsure of what exactly was going to happen next. Her long auburn hair reached the floor brushing along the concrete with each movement of the rope. A blindfold effectively cut out the sight of the small room filled with strangers, all men, who had quietly been taking their places on the hard wooden chairs facing the slightly raised stage. Her arms had been pulled behind her back so that her wrists could be manacled together, not too tightly, but secure enough to keep them pinioned against the naked flesh at the small of her back.

She swung gently. Her breasts, hanging down from her rib cage, hardly moved except for the disturbance caused by her shallow breathing. Her nipples were hard and extended as a mixture of cool air and sexual excitement kept them in a state of anticipation. She swung as the man entered the room from a side door.

She heard his footsteps approaching. His metal capped heels a menacing clicking sound on the concrete. The audience had grown still and silent. Not a sound could be heard in the cellar save for the sound of his steps. Then Kristen heard the mass intake of breath as the audience saw something that excited them.

Rivulets of sweat were running freely down her flesh, making her skin itch as they passed over her body, towards her upturned chin and finally to run up her face to her hairline. Her long strands of hair turned darker with the accumulation of liquid and she had a crazy desire to immerse herself in a tub of cold water to cool her body down and rid herself of the constant irritation.

Swiiishhh!

The blow against her vulnerable body sent it swinging wildly at the end of the rope. Her breath expelled in an uncontrolled explosion of air leaving her lungs empty.

Swiiishhh!!

A harder, more vicious blow, that caught her across her waist just above the flair of her buttocks. This time her lungs filled to bursting with air, but only for a second. Her scream, loud and shrill emptied them again. The high-pitched shriek assaulted the ears of the audience who shifted in their seats, mesmerised by the tableau being performed before them.

Swiisssshhh!!

Again a scream of pain was ripped from her as the soft roundness of her buttocks were targeted. The man behind her raised his right arm and swung down again against the quivering round globes of flesh. Another scream, hoarser this time, filled the room. The audience was moving more frequently now. Not as one, but as individuals as hands unzipped trousers and disappeared inside to caress and rub the hardening flesh.

Another scream, then another. Her flesh was beginning to stripe as each blow landed in a controlled pattern up and down her back. Each reddening line an almost carbon copy of the previous one as the Whipmaster moved his aim relentlessly and accurately over her body. Saliva bubbles burst on her lips allowing the liquid to run over her upper lip and into her flared nostrils where it mixed with the streaming tears pouring from her nose. Her face began to glisten with the mixture of sweat and saliva that ran and eventually congealed over her skin. Her mouth gaped as she gasped for air and shrieked with each blow. Her whole body now swung wildly at the end of the rope and her back, from her shoulders to the base of her buttocks, glowed raw red in the dim light of the cellar.

Her throat hurt as her screams turned hoarse, the inflamed membranes making it difficult to make any noise. Eventually, as the blows continued to fall, and her body swung uncontrollably in mid-air, she could make no further sound save for a continuous moaning, interspersed with a sharp groan as the pain dug deep into her defenceless body.

She fainted and the man, bathed in sweat himself, stopped the relentless swinging of his arm.

A tall woman came onto the stage from the outer darkness and threw a bucket of ice cold water over Kristen. She jerked into consciousness, her eyes fluttering against her cheeks, but she could make no other movement. She moaned softly as she felt the fire of the lash burning her but she felt no despair. Instead she felt an inner glow that was at odds with the torment of her skin. She hung suspended, upside down, waiting...

The man walked around her body until he was facing her front.

Swwiish!!

This time the pain was worse. The lash landed squarely across her breasts making them lift and bounce from the blow. Kristen groaned and closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see. She groaned again as another blow sent her breasts bouncing and swinging in all directions. Another blow, then another. The man was concentrating all his effort on her perfect globes, turning them pink, then red and finally deep crimson as the lash fell again and again.

Through her pain Kristen felt the small inner warmth spread outwards, from the depths of her belly to her loins. This was a different sensation to what she was experiencing on the outside of her flesh. The blows eventually moved from her abused breasts down her rib cage to her pumping, gyrating belly. Her groans became mingled with long, wailing, keening sounds as she felt the inner glow suddenly shoot into her loins with the force of a lightening bolt. Suspended upside down as she was, her head still managed to jerk back to touch her spine as the sexual energy attacked her lower body. She grunted as her body responded. The lash still fell.

The audience were now masturbating themselves violently. Lost in the sights and the sounds from the stage. Their imaginations running riot in minds oblivious to their surroundings.

Then, even as Kristen released a final shrill shriek, as her orgasm broke free from it's internal confines and rushed throughout her being, forcing her body into an uncontrolled spasmodic shuddering, some of the audience reached their own release and began spurting semen from rigid penises.

The room became full of noise as Kristen's orgasm went on an on. The audience moaned and grunted in empathy as each cock exploded its load into the cool air of the cellar. And the lash repeatedly fell.

Slowly though, the group masturbation slowed and stopped, leaving each man lying back breathlessly in his seat. And as the audience quietened so too did the lash.

For Kristen there was no rest, no respite. The rope around her ankles was slowly lowered and her body was caught in the arms of two naked male helpers who had appeared out of the surrounding darkness. As they caught her body with their hands, they both moved forward, allowing their own nakedness and aroused penises to slide up her skin. From her forehead, over her face and chin, down her neck, her breasts and her stomach. Each penis leaving a trail of slime as the men ejaculated against her sliding flesh. Her ankles were released and she was half carried, half dragged, to a large wooden cross at the rear of the stage. Against this she was pushed backwards. A movement which caused her to moan aloud as her striped back made contact with the wood. Quickly her wrists and ankles were fastened to the structure with padded manacles. The men returned to the darkness leaving her in the classic crucifix position.