Chapter 19: Punishment

Once again, snapping fingers brought Sandy out of her trance. As her mind rushed back to consciousness, her eyes slowly opened, and she gasped as her arousal still thrilled through her body. She could still feel the collar around her neck, and just knowing that it was there seemed to ignite every nerve ending in her body.

She also knew that Mistress had implanted new suggestions in her mind, but she couldn't remember what they were. This sense of helplessness only heightened her arousal.

As she slowly became oriented, she realized that she was still on the stage, but she was no longer kneeling. Instead, her arms were drawn straight up above her head, and her wrists were attached to a single chain that was hanging from the ceiling. Her feet, meanwhile, were attached to a spreader bar that left her feet just barely able to touch the floor. In her heels she could manage to put her weight on her feet to alleviate some of the strain on her shoulders, but doing so was a struggle.

As Sandy looked around to further take in her surroundings she saw that the scene before her hadn't changed much from the last time she'd been conscious enough to be aware of it: the Mistresses still sat in rows watching her as their slaves sat next to them. Now, though, some of the slaves had taken up new positions – usually in between their Mistress's legs as they serviced the sexes of the women who dominated them. Still others were draped across their Mistress's laps, their bottoms sticking into the air and receiving the occasional swat from their Mistress's hand.

Sandy didn't have long to take all of this in, though, as her own Mistress's voice soon dominated her attention.

"Are you ready to be my slave?"

"Yes, Mistress." Sandy knew that what was to follow would probably be painful – yet she didn't hesitate for a moment. She was ready to submit to her Mistress on every level that she knew, and if her Mistress desired to punish her, then she would willingly accept that punishment. In fact, just the thought of it caused her sex to twitch in excitement and her already pointed nipples to grow impossibly hard.

Mistress was once again circling Sandy, and now she had a riding crop in her hand that she thwacked into her own palm in much the same way that she had at the dinner table. Sandy watched and listened, the anticipation of what was to come seemed more excruciating than the actual cropping could possibly be.

Sandy realized how erroneous that thought had been just moments later. Without warning, Mistress used the crop to strike Sandy's stomach. It felt as though a line of fire had suddenly scorched her mid-section, and, though she tried her best not to, Sandy let out a sharp scream.

Mistress resumed her circling.

"How did that feel, Sandy?"

"It hurt, Mistress."

"Would you like me to stop?"

"No, Mistress. Please continue to dominate my body."

"Good girl."

Another strike came down on Sandy's exposed body – this time on her back. She let out a scream again, although this time it was a little less pronounced.

Before Sandy had recovered, another strike claimed the sensitive skin just under Sandy's armpit. She screamed again and jumped, causing all of her weight to come down on her shoulders. As she tried to regain her balance her scream turned into a pained yet erotic moan.

"How are you feeling, Sandy?"

Sandy responded as she regained her balance. "I feel wonderful Mistress. Thank you for punishing me."

Sandy heard whispers from the audience. She couldn't make out complete sentences, but she was able to catch several vague phrases:

"Wow, she's just amazing..."

" ... such a natural submissive..."

" ... so quickly and so completely..."

" ... she wants more so soon..."

" ... Mistress Catherine is so lucky..."

Sandy let these comments wash over her – adding to the feeling of her submission – making her more aroused.

Sandy's breasts felt the effects of the crop next, as Mistress concentrated several blows on the tender flesh. Sandy felt tears rising to her eyes – tears that then spilled out as Mistress redirected her blows to Sandy's inner thighs.

Mistress's crop now seemed relentless. Gone were the careful, spaced out crops that had begun Sandy's punishment – Mistress was moving the crop swiftly back and forth between each of Sandy's inner thighs – preventing her from focusing on the pain that remained in her breasts by providing a searing sensation in her legs that seemed almost too much to bear.

Sandy's scream now seemed continuous.

Then, suddenly, the cropping stopped.

"How are you feeling, Sandy?"

Through her desperate gasps for air, Sandy replied, "Th-th-thank y-y-you, Mistress."

"Would you like me to crop you more?"

"Y-yes, Mistress."

"Very well."

Mistress resumed her circling, but now accompanied it with a steady rain of blows. Sandy felt the insidious instrument on the backs of her thighs, on her stomach, on her back, on her breasts, on her side, on her bottom, on the flesh of her thighs. Throughout all of her punishment, Sandy flinched with each strike, and let out a little cry – the exertion that went with her punishment left her too out of breath to continue screaming as she had earlier.

Finally, when Sandy thought that she could bear it no more, Mistress walked around so that she was facing her slave.

"Count the remaining strokes with the crop."

"Yes, Mistress." Sandy was struggling to catch her breath and knew that speaking while being cropped would be difficult. Still, she was determined to please her Mistress.

Without warning, Mistress brought the crop down on Sandy's right nipple. The bound girl sucked air into her lungs as the pain tore through her. As she exhaled she said, "One."

Another blow, this time to the other nipple. "Two."

Mistress alternated blows, striking first one nipple, then the other. Each time the crop came in contact with Sandy's sensitive, engorged nipples, it was all she could do to get the number out of her mouth. It seemed an eternity before she finally screamed out, "Ten!"

"Good girl," Mistress praised her. With that, she offered the crop to Sandy's lips.

"Kiss the crop, slave."

Sandy immediately complied – kissing and tonguing the crop as though it were a long-lost lover. And, she realized as she did it, that was almost how she viewed the crop. As much pain as it had inflicted on her body, she nevertheless felt that it had touched her deeply; bringing feelings to the surface that had been buried for too long. The tears continued to stream down her cheeks, but these were not tears of pain, they were tears of joy.

When Sandy had finished her kiss Mistress stepped away, leaving Sandy panting in her bondage. The pain of the crop had become so taxing on Sandy's body that she had given up trying to stand in her bonds – now she simply hung, allowing her shoulders to bear her weight as she hung in submission to her Mistress.

As she awaited her Mistress's next move, she also became aware of just how sweaty she had become. Her body seemed drenched in perspiration that was running down her body, which was flushed from the exertion, the punishment, and her deep and consuming arousal. As much as her skin burned from the torment it had just received, it paled in comparison to the consuming need for release that was now threatening to melt her entire body.

This feeling only intensified when Mistress reentered her vision holding a flogger. Sandy's eyes were immediately drawn to the device. She couldn't quite determine why, but something about the strands of the flogger seemed to spark a part of her mind that she couldn't quite place – all she knew was that she wanted to feel its touch on her body.

Rather than strike her with the device, though, Mistress simply continued to walk around Sandy, almost as though she were stalking the chained girl.