Chapter 6

Soon he returned. She sat nervously waiting for him to do something. He moved to a table next to the frame and with his back to her, he placed some things on it. She couldn't see what he had or what he was doing.

He turned to her and motioned her to come where he stood in the middle of the frame. She walked to him and waited for her immediate fate.

He tied her wrists and hoisted her arms up. This time he was rougher and she strained to reach high enough so she wouldn't feel the cord cutting into her. He kicked her legs apart with his boots and tied cords to her ankles. She felt the cords bite into her, without the softness of the cuffs.

She suddenly realized that he planned to punish her severely. His hands were rough and he tied her impatiently. Soon he had secured the cords back to the frame and he walked back to the table, leaving her straining against the cords. It had been only a few minutes since he started restraining her, but she was already tiring.

He came back to her and reached behind her and unsnapped her bra and slid it forward.

"Didn't I tell you to remove your clothes?" he asked.

He didn't wait for her reply. He was unable to remove it over her arms, so he went back to his table and returned with scissors and promptly cut her straps so he could remove the bra. Her heart was racing now, as she became more frightened. This had become very serious.

He grabbed her panties and tore them off of her. He ripped them in two and let the pieces hang on her calves above the cords. He stood back and looked at her with disdain.

"Even when you are going to be punished, you disobey me," he said.

"I planned to remove my underwear before you started Sir," she answered.

"Just shut up."

He held a ball gag up so she could see it clearly, and then he placed it against her lips. She had never been gagged before, but she had an idea how it worked and opened her mouth wide as he placed it in and fastened the strap in the back.

Now she was silenced.

He held his open hands before her for a moment before he slapped her breasts. His palm stung as he struck her nipples and fleshy breasts. She moaned with each blow. He breasts were flailed and knocked, swaying back and forth. She braced herself as well as she could in her position, but it was difficult to keep still as he continued his assault of her breasts. She groaned from the pain, but mostly from the sadness she felt as she looked into his face and saw contempt and anger.

He looked deep into her eyes as he slapped her. His hands were pink from the slaps, but not as dark as her flesh. She was red and her nipples stood hard from the attacks. She was in pain, but was also stimulated. She wished he could not see that she was getting some pleasure from this torture.

When he tired, he sat in his chair across the room and stared at her for a few minutes. Then he left the room and returned with a glass. He sat back down and drank, refreshing himself. She hung from the frame, drained and sore and hurting. Her eyes looked like those of a trapped animal, uncertain of its fate.

She saw him return to the table and watched him come to her side. He held up a cane. It was about three feet long and was limber and thin. He snapped it in the air to show its flexability. He stood behind her, and she took a deep breath, waiting.

Whap. Whap. Whap. Whap. She felt needle like stings across her legs. Screams built up deep in her lungs but were trapped by her gag and she could only snort through her nose to release that built-up burst of air. Her mind was panicked and she was begging inside for mercy... for release... for an end to his switching. But he continued, cane against her thighs and calves in the back and then the front.

And tears filled her eyes as she hung from the frame, the cords now pulling into her wrists. She was weak and unable to support herself adequately to hold her arms up high. She prayed for an end to this.

When she became aware that he was no longer switching her, she looked around to see where he was. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stretching out a bright fabric cord. he strung it out on the floor then rolled it up in a loose loop over his arm. When he had it all played out and then looped, he came to her and started to wrap it around her breasts.

He pulled the fabric tight around her breasts and then connected the loops together. Her breasts were constricted and held tightly in the strips and made to stand out from her chests in pointed, cone shapes. She could feel the tightness and easily see her tits standing out in front of her in some grotesque cartoonish fashion.

When he had used all of the strips, he took his thumbs and forefingers and pulled her nipples, stretching them out. Then he pinched them, squeezing and tightly gripping them, flattening them. She closed her eyes, hoping to get lost in some memory that would take her away. But there was no escape as he abused her captive nipples.

He soon tired of the nipple game and went back to the table. He returned after a few seconds and clamped clothespins to her nipples. They were already so sensitive and tender from his pinches and pulls that they pulsed and throbbed with pain under the pressure of the clamps.

He left the room for a few minutes as she stood there, racked in misery.

She was aware of his presence next when she felt him releasing her ankles. "Stand up correctly" he said. She struggled to move her legs together, but was stiff and any movement brought pain. He then released the rope from the frame and undid her wrists. She staggered to gain her balance. He held her until she was steady, then took her hand and led her to his chair.