In the spirit of starting easily, Joseph looked down at the tray of tools and selected a slim plastic rod that looked very much like a conductor's baton. Tying her titties back allowed him unrestricted access to a very neglected area of her breasts – the tender undersides. This was where he began to strike – short, sharp snaps of his wrist that left thin weals, reminding him of the pattern the switch had made on her bottom. Ignoring all of the useless sounds emanating from behind her headgear, he lost himself in whipping that magnificent pair with total abandon until the shy, vulnerable area was alive with red and pink trails. On occasion, he had missed his intended target and snapped the rod down onto a clothespin, or even once the bit of nipple flesh just beneath the jaws of the clamp, making his woman keen again as loudly as she could, tears splashing down from her chin to wet those ripe, hanging melons.
By the time he finished, the undersides of both titties were alive with angry red lines, looking very sore and swollen. Joseph was extremely satisfied with his work. He put the baton down, and retied the rope that he had tied high on the pole. Instead, he pulled the rope that was still laced through the end of the clothespins down. This action forced her nipples to point downwards as he threaded the rope between her pussy lips. He made sure there was a rough piece of rope on either side of her already engorged clitty, then down over the entrance to her cunt, and then up in back over her little flowered hole, to be tied off very tautly to the pole.
Now every time Prima moved, the rope rubbed against both sides of the nub between her legs. She was mortified! And with the way he wielded that thin stick, there was no way in hell that she wouldn't try to move somehow.
Joseph sighed contentedly as he once again stood in front of Prima, baton in hand. "You are very wet, my girl. One would think that, despite all your moans and groans and screams and tears, you enjoyed this." He had put the baton under his arm to hold it and was busily twisting the clothespins in place. "You can wail all you like, Katherine…well, as much as your head harness will allow. No one will help you. No one is going to save you from this. And as much as it's going to hurt you – and it will hurt a lot – you're pussy's going to end up drenched as usual and ready to be fucked by me, your owner, which is how it should be. For a virgin, I got myself quite a hot slut."
He brought the stick down smartly on the tops of both breasts at once, then set about searing each one individually for a while, occasionally bringing the unforgiving rod down on top of each clothespin. Joseph laid into her breasts with a vengeance, smacking them until their swollen skin was fit to burst with the mass of flaming welts he'd created. Throwing the baton aside, he untied the rope that held pulled the clamps down and threw it to one side, grasped a breast roughly in each hand, crushing them and pressing them together, rubbing the marks he'd caused over the last half hour, jiggling those tortured little berries of hers good and hard. He was about ready to explode without even having touched himself.
He was able to back himself down a bit mentally, even though he leaned closer to her to whisper, "I'm going to take the clothespins off your naughty little nipples. I'm going to take them off the hard way, I'm going to pull them off." Moans and groans and cracked little cries greeted Joseph's ears. "One at a time. And I want you to ask me to do it yourself. You can't talk, but I want you to shrug your shoulder. Whichever shoulder you shrug is the clamp I'm going to pull off. I won't do it until you ask me to, though. Don't make me stand here forever waiting for you, either, or you won't like the way I pick to get them off." He tweaked each aching point nastily. "Or maybe you would. But I want you to ask for it." He squeezed her boobs again rhythmically, making the clothespins bob up and down painfully. "Those clamps must be hurtin' you quite a bit by now, honey. You must be just about dying to get them off your poor little teats…hmm?" She hated it when he used animal names for her parts! It was so humiliating. Joseph threaded a short length of rope through the holes at the end of each nipple, so he could use them almost like reins as he teased the clamps off her.
Oh, how right he was! It was bad enough that he'd bound her breasts, but those awful things he'd put on her very sensitive buds were horrible! She'd never be able to look at a clothespin the same way again without remembering how its jaws felt squeezing down on her nipples! The pressure and the itchy-burn made her want to cut off her tips gladly to ease it. And then, he had caned first the undersides, then the tops, relentlessly, the same merciless way he plied her bottom with whatever implement was in his hand at the time, and she never knew where the next stroke was coming from. The occasional wayward strokes that hit those clamps nearly caused her to faint in agony, but she wasn't allowed that release from her suffering.
Now he was making her ask to have the clamps not taken off, but pulled off. If she knew him at all, he would do it slowly and torturously, millimeter by millimeter, so that she would experience the most pain possible. Sobbing defeatedly, she decided she might as well get it over with.
"Prima," he prompted her. "You're making me wait," he warned.
She moaned, then slowly raised her right shoulder in surrender. Katherine felt his hand on her upper arm.
"We'll do the right one first, then." She knew he had taken a hold of the rope, pulling it lightly as he spoke in an almost gentle tone. "Shrug your right shoulder again when you want me to begin."
Drawing a deep breath, Katherine moved her shoulder up and down.
"That's my good girl." His praise fell on deaf ears as he began tugging, tugging, tugging on that tender tip, pulling hard on the rope and yet the spring-pressured jaw was barely moving up her tit. He jerked harder, eliciting a wonderful throaty moan from his victim, then jerked again. The clamp was hanging at the very end of her nipple, where it probably hurt the very most. Joseph dropped the rope and gathered her breast in his hands, his mouth licking the exposed area of the abused nipple, mixing her pain with pleasure as he slowly made the rope taut again, removing the clamp with a small snap.
Tears flooded out of Prima's eyes at the rush of blood back into her bud, bathing her breasts and stinging the welts with their saltiness. Joseph had himself in his hands, almost willing to forgo the ending he'd planned and just cum on her tummy; he was so excited. But, as he reminded the sobbing woman, there was one more clamp to dislodge. Joseph took the reins to the other clamp in his hands. "Shrug your left shoulder like a good girl when you want me to start, Katherine."
How could she go through that again? But then, how could she stand that undiluted pressure one more second? Crying inconsolably, she lifted her shoulder and immediately felt that horrible thing working its way torturously down the length of her compressed titty.
Joseph seemed to take longer with this one – moving the rope to the right and left, causing different parts of her nipple to feel the pinch of the clip. Finally, it fell off, and Joseph lips clamped down on the upturned bud just as the blood started to expand into it painfully, again making her experience both pain and pleasure at the same time.
He spent a long while nibbling and suckling at her, rubbing his face against her bound breasts. Then he straightened and reached down to the tray again. Seconds later, Katherine felt each nipple compressed again, this time with an even more biting pressure. What was he doing to her? The stinging in her nipples was unbearable!
Joseph moved a sturdy, broad step stool in front of Prima and stood on it. Just as he'd imagined, his cock was at just the perfect angle for what he wanted. His hands clasped her breast flesh again, wiggling her compressed tits. "How do you like the feeling now, Katherine? Do you know what this is?"
She didn't, but she knew he was going to tell her anyway.
"Let me just check and see if you're really enjoying this session, shall we?" His thick fingers groped between her legs, and there was nothing she could do about that, either. The middle and second fingers found their way into her. "Mmm. You are such a good girl to enjoy this as much as you do, although, I imagine you find it quite humiliating to enjoy being tortured like this, hmm? He coul
d hear her breathing change to an aroused pattern. "Oh, yes, you do love this, don't you? You love me treating your breasts harshly like this. Did you know that, right now, you have two clothespins hanging off those gorgeous titties of yours? Only they've been modified just a little. At the ends that claim your tit nubs, I've put a patch of Velcro on the top and bottom of the jaws of the clothespin. That's what's making them burn as well as hurt, honey. Doesn't it feel just awful? And you're loving it regardless, aren't you?" He brought her close, very close to orgasm, then stopped, which caused Prima to wail almost as loudly as she had when he'd struck her clothes-pinned nipples with the baton.
"No pleasure for you, not on a punishment night. Naughty girls don't get to cum for their owners when they're being chastised for being bad." Joseph squirted a big gob of KY onto his engorged member as he stood with it level to her tautly swollen mammaries. Then he caught a handful of breast meat in each fist and squeezed them together, rubbing the insides of them against his cock, titty fucking her, rubbing brutally over the bruises and tracks from her punishment session with the baton. She tried to cringe away from him, but of course, she couldn't. The hump of material between her shoulder blades forced her to arch into him. Prima was still wearing those devious Velcro clothespins, and as he leaned forward, he crushed them at odd angles that caused her even more agony.
"Ahh, yes, you'd better pray I cum quick – those clamps are going to stay on your tits until I've cum all over them," he whispered hoarsely, knowing that it was going to be an extremely short wait. But he did try to drag it out as much as possible, teasing himself and punishing her as much as possible in the process.
Prima was out of her mind with the burning sensation the things hanging onto her nipples were causing. How did he come up with these things? How did he expect her to endure it?
Finally, she heard him cry out and felt a warm wetness between her breasts. Joseph laid his head against her shoulder, taking a minute to recover. "I imagine you'd like me to get those things off you, hmm, Katherine?" he said, kissing her collarbone gently.
This time he didn't fool around at all, but took them both off at once. Again, Prima was subjected to wave after wave of pain as the blood throbbed back into those compressed, pinpricked areas. Joseph released her from her bondage, sat her on the edge of the bed, gave her something to drink, then lay her on her back and secured her wrists to the headboard above her head. He broke down the bondage apparatus and tucked it under the bed. Just as he was going to turn away and leave her for the rest of the evening until he came to bed much later, he mumbled sheepishly, "Forgot something." He plopped a healthy dollop of Ben-Gay on each ravaged tip, rubbing it in quickly, but leaving a good portion there to sink in slowly over time.
Katherine was no longer gagged, and Joseph, frankly, enjoyed her sobs as that fiery cream settled into all of those raw crevices. Her cries and moans played in the background while he went about the room and cleaned up, then before he left he secured her legs to the footboard and reached under her to put another generous dollop of the ointment on her bottom hole.
As he turned on the baby monitor, pulled the shades, turned up the heat – in more ways than one – and left the room, she was still moaning and begging him to have mercy, drumming her feet – which was all the movement she had in her legs – on the mattress in an anguished tattoo.
Smiling slightly, Joseph turned out the light and went to his office, leaving Prima to deal with her punishment as best she could as he became rock hard against listening to her torment several rooms away.
Chapter Eleven
Several days later, Joseph surprised her by announcing that they were going into town after breakfast. He'd considered carefully whether or not to take her. It's not like he thought she was going to escape if he left her there; there was nowhere to go. She'd be caught before she made it off his property, probably, since he owned a tremendous amount of land around his house. Besides, Joseph didn't think she'd runaway from him, anyway. The penalties for runaways – and those who assisted them, if they could find someone – were extremely stiff. He didn't think she would want to risk fifty lashes on the tender skin of her back, given with the hapless woman stripped naked in the town square. If she did try to escape and didn't make it off his land, she'd have to worry about his penalties to her bare bottom, the government be damned!
As he reached for another of the luscious spiced muffins she'd made for breakfast, he ordered without preamble, "Get on a longer dress, one that goes below your knee, and put on a pair of shoes."
Her eyebrow rose, but she did as she was told, reappearing at the snack bar in the plain dress she'd come to him in. Joseph grunted. The dress was like a sack; it did nothing for her, but then that suited his purpose.
Although she was dying of curiosity as to what had prompted him to send her to change clothes, she remained silent. He was dressed as he usually was in jeans, heavy work boots, white crew neck t-shirt under a plaid flannel shirt. Joseph rose, leaving the mess for her to clean while he grabbed a few things from his office. A few minutes later, he stopped in the kitchen, looking at her pointedly. "Let's go."
Prima glanced up from where she was, nearly up to her elbows in dishwater, but there was still the baking mess and the counters to wipe down. Tentatively, she asked, "It's okay that I-I'm not done cleaning?"
"You can finish that when we get back," he answered abruptly, holding out his hand to her as if she was a child, and she supposed, to him, she was, sort of. He grabbed a well-worn cream-colored cowboy hat on his way out and settled it on his head.
Prima dried her hands, smoothed her dress and put her small hand in his much bigger one. Joseph had a good-sized truck, mid-sized in the Before Time, but considered huge now. Prima could barely remember how to open the door of a vehicle; it had been so long for her. When she shut the door, she bounced a little on the leather bench seat, looking around everywhere, wearing a big broad grin and giggling in delight. It was definitely a man's truck, and it smelled of him. There were rifles in the back window, a coffee mug sat in the holder, and she could see where his head rubbed against the roof of the truck.
Joseph was enchanted with her natural exuberance and smiling indulgently. "Been a while since you've been in a truck, huh?"
Prima nodded. "Since I've been in any vehicle, except the FemExpress van."
He winced at the mention of it, even now. "If you'd lived closer, I would have come to get you myself, but I couldn't. I hate those damned cattle cars they run."
Katherine realized that he was probably just concerned about his considerable investment, and not actually her, but she was still amazed and somewhat touched that he would even bother to think about how she'd been treated on her trip down to him.
"I was okay. It was long, and it wasn't fun, but thanks to the fragile stickers, no one hurt me." She cleared her throat nervously. "Thank you for having me sent to you that way; I know there were a lot of other girls who were…treated very badly en route."
He didn't know what to say to her thanks, so he pretty much ignored it. "Yeah, well, they locked your wrists so tight that when you got here they were swollen and bruised," he reminded her with a hard glance as he started the truck. "Seatbelt." She frowned the whole time she fastened it, as if what he'd demanded annoyed her. When she was done, he caught her eye, saying, "Any time you're in a moving vehicle that has seatbelts available, you'd better be wearing yours."
Prima gulped at that hard look. "Yes, Sir."
The ride into town was slow and somewhat arduous; the roads in general weren't very well taken care of, and his road, in particular, wasn't because he liked to discourage both visitors and revenuers alike. The main road was barely passable until they were actually in town. His first stop was his storefront, McDonough's. The employees inside practically snapped to attention when he walked in, and Prima found herself again uncomfortably inspected, strange male eyes giving her the once – and sometimes twice – over. She remained the required five paces behind him, e
yes downcast respectfully. There were customers in the store that Joseph obviously knew. He shook hands with a man who was about his size, whose woman stood well back from him, sporting what looked like a fresh black eye and split lip. The woman wouldn't meet Prima's eyes, but kept her head down at all times.
The gruff man commented on Joseph's latest acquisition, mentioning, as the men at the party had that night, that it was about time he got himself a wench to warm himself on a cold winter's night.
Joseph chuckled and slapped the man on the shoulder, reminding the stranger about some parts that he needed to pick up for a generator he'd rented a while ago. Joseph took his leave of the man and walked to the back of the store to settle himself into the makeshift office in the backroom. He made no mention to her of what she was supposed to do, so Prima fit herself into a small corner of the room, trying to keep out of his way, watching everything that went on in the store with great interest, especially the women.
There was quite a bit of traffic in and out of Joseph's store. It was a popular place and provided a much-needed service to the community in that it rented out, on a daily, weekly, monthly or yearly basis, the generators and batteries that ran most people's cars or lights. It was darned hard to get, along without electricity, and Joseph's reasonable prices made sure that most people didn't have to, while making a tidy sum for himself. The morning spent at his store was an incredible eye-opener for Prima. She was just beginning to realize how cloistered she had been up in the mountains with her father. Not a lot about her life had changed, really, after the plague had come. She no longer had to go to work. As a matter of fact, women were barred by law from working at paying jobs not long after the devastation of the female population had become apparent to the powers that be. Her father had needed her, and she had simply returned to working the farm – granted on a much-reduced level that what it had been. There was rarely call for her to go to town, so she stayed close to home, on Cassidy land, until Daddy saw fit to sell her away from him.
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