by Sean O'Kane
The words washed over Anna as she tried to draw breath and come to terms with the fact that once again sex was being coupled with the whip. And each time it happened, she was the cause of the sex without getting her share. Even though the judge revolted her, the sounds of vigorous rutting from behind her as she rested her forehead against her arms, made her realise where all the sensations the whip had aroused in her were finally concentrating. She was wet. She knew the moist hot feeling in her belly. Behind her Miss Thorpe was groaning, her voice quavering in time to the judge’s thrusts into her. She risked looking behind her and saw the thin figure of the judge ramming his hips back and forth between the woman’s sturdy thighs as she braced herself against the wall. As Anna watched, the fuck came to its climax, the judge held himself rigid and let out a roar of release and then slumped against the woman for a moment. The room was silent apart from the ragged breathing of the pair against the wall. Then the judge pushed himself upright, zipped up his trousers and returned to his desk, as if nothing had changed.
Anna looked round again. Miss Thorpe was licking her fingers and as she saw Anna watching, she gave her a lazy, lascivious smile and delved them back between her thighs where snail trails of sperm were already leaking from her. The dark, luxuriant nest of pubic hair was matted with moisture and Anna watched in fascination as she wantonly foraged her fingers up into herself and drew out the fluid, then licked it off them.
“Come here and kneel, Miss Thorpe,” the judge said when the woman had been just about to start beating Anna again. Anna saw a trace of annoyance pass across her face as her fun was interrupted but it was gone in an instant and she laid the whip on a chest of drawers and went to the desk where she knelt at its side. She knelt upright and pressed herself against the side, then put her hands beneath her heavy breasts and stroked them from underneath so that they were fully laid out on the top of the desk, then she clasped her hands behind her head, pushing her shoulders back and thrusting her breasts out as far as they would go.
The judge, meanwhile, had been busy. Instead of resuming his seat he had been picking heavy legal tomes off the shelves behind the desk and now had a pile of them on it. With no preamble he picked one up and tested its weight, letting the woman see what he was doing. Anna saw her bite her lower lip but she held steady. Then he slammed it down onto Miss Thorpe’s left breast. It made a shockingly loud thump as it landed and Miss Thorpe’s breath hissed out between clenched teeth.
The judge turned back to his books, picked up another and slammed it down onto her right breast. This time the woman let out a soft, keening cry. Anna could only peek out from between her raised forearms – at the moments of impact she had buried her face against her forearms but now, as the horrible old man reached for another book she found she couldn’t look away. Miss Thorpe could have moved her arms, could have protected herself and yet she stayed where she was and took the pain, just like Marie had, back in the jail.
This time she watched as the brown leather tome thumped down ponderously onto the book that covered the left breast. The woman let out a strange kind of sigh this time and hardly did more than sob as the fourth book thudded down onto the right breast.
“Nipples,” the judge said and stood behind the desk as Miss Thorpe slowly removed the heavy books and looked down ruefully at her breasts, which were red and lined with imprints from the embossed covers. Then she clasped her hands behind her head once more and waited for whatever this awful old man wanted to do to her next. Anna could still not look away as he produced a strange, old fashioned device that she had only seen in museums. He placed it in front of Miss Thorpe, the cast iron clumping on the wood of the desk in ominously heavy contrast to the vulnerable, red nipples standing out, reckless with arousal, from the soft breasts. Anna took in that sight and then realised the wet feeling between her own legs was still there.
But now Miss Thorpe was carefully feeding her left nipple onto the green baize pad on the base of the implement. Above it and ready to be driven down onto a piece of paper – which had been its original purpose - resting on the lower, baize covered pad to emboss an address, was another plate. Above that was a curving arm of heavy iron and the judge, with no ceremony leaned on it, driving the upper plate down onto the lower – trapping the nipple between them.
Miss Thorpe could not restrain a louder cry at this new and appalling pain, but still made no attempt to shield herself; just stayed looking down at her nipple as the judge leaned more of his weight on the lever and then slowly let it up again and moved the implement away from the woman.
“You will notice, Miss Chatham, that this slut – who is a free woman, mark you! – makes no move to stop me doing these things to her. And if I chose to finger her whore’s cunt? Well, the worse the treatment I inflict on her the wetter she becomes. Is that not so, you slut?”
“Yes, m’lud.”
Anna watched transfixed as the woman carefully arranged her other nipple for a further bout of torment.
“And what would I find if I fingered your whore’s cunt?” The judge’s question snapped at her, taking her off guard.
She chose not to attempt an answer and glared at him instead. He smiled, a slow, confident smile.
“We shall find out shortly. Oh yes.” And with that he leaned on the arm again and Miss Thorpe gritted her teeth in vain against the cry that burst from her this time. The judge leaned on the lever for longer this time and the woman was shaking a little as she got to her feet after he let her up. But the proud smile she turned on Anna as she prepared to resume her Master’s work on Anna’s body, shook her to the core.
The judge decreed a single tail whip and Anna had no choice but to stand and twist and spin at the end of her chains as the long braided lash scored her bitterly hard. She really had no concept of what was going on inside her as the fires that raged across her skin were so intense, but suddenly as she spun away from a biting lash to the fronts of her thighs, she found herself pressed against the judge – and before she knew what was happening his fingers were inside her. She froze in horrified shock as she felt them twist and stimulate her. He withdrew and then pushed back, the stimulation was more acute.
“Four fingers Miss Chatham, with ease.” He stood back. “Finish the sentence,” he said.
For another ten lashes Anna managed to stay steady, defying the judge with her eyes as he stood, smiling in front of her and sniffing the scent of her sex off his fingers.
When they had finished with her, the woman dressed quickly and they both left. The policeman who came in to take her away made no comment, apart from feeling the insides of her thighs and laughing knowingly before he took her down, cuffed her hands behind her back and led her out, holding her firmly by the arm. He glanced at her shoulder which had a small tattoo on it, of the letters A and C intertwined.
“I remember seeing a photo of you in the papers when you first had that,” he
said. “You were in a bikini on some beach and you looked so fucking hot! I’m gonna love fucking your lights out!” She couldn’t think of anything to say in reply to that.
Anna was very conscious of her nudity as her hips brushed against the rough serge of the policeman’s uniform, her bare feet padded on the vinyl floor beside his heavy shoes. They began to pass cells and Anna saw that in each cell was another naked girl. They mainly lounged on simple beds pushed against the backs of the cells. One or two were pressed against the bars and in the most foul language that Anna had ever heard from the lips of a girl, offered the policeman their bodies in exchange for this or that drug.
Even naked and with the policeman in shoes, Anna was taller than him, so he had to turn his face slightly upwards to grin at her.
“Dunno why they think I’d want them when I got you to give me all that!” he said.
Anna stared at him and briefly considered trying to knee him in the groin, but what then? She sighed and allowed him to tow her along. It seemed inevitable after the day’s proceedings. Her back, breasts, bottom and
thighs, stung and burned in the wake of the whipping, but disturbingly, she could feel her thighs slide moistly past each other as she walked. And even though she knew her guard was going to fuck her the first chance he got, it didn’t lead to any lessening of that wetness.
At the end of the long corridor, lined with cells, they turned right and Anna was pushed into another cell that stood at the end of the short passage that formed a T with the longer one. There was another door at its other end.
“This is the special cell,” her guard told her. “We keep it for when we get something a bit special passing through. They screwed up when they put the CCTV in and you can’t see what goes on in here. We’re not supposed to handle the goods, see? ‘Course we do and not much gets said, but when we got a real, live celeb in a cell, well, the boys wanna let their hair down!”
He took a nasty looking cattle goad from his belt and made sure she saw it.
“There ain’t any easy ways for you now, girl. But some ways is less easy than others. Understand?”
Anna crossed her arms over her chest, instinctively, without considering that he had already seen all he needed to. She nodded, her eyes fixed on the goad as he slid it back into his belt. Why did she still feel so turned on? It was almost a wail of despair in her mind as he guided her towards a wall of the cell on which there were two leather straps, bolted into the stone. He buckled her wrists into them and made her shuffle her feet away from the wall, so she could hollow her back and stick her bottom out.
“Bloody fine arse that!” the man said. “His Honour must’ve thought so too, don’t often see them flogged that hard!”
Once more Anna buried her head against her arms as she listened to the guard undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers. She knew what was coming next and just hoped she might be able to get some pleasure from it too. And the judge had had her whipped harder than most, had he? That was a strange thought and one that gave her odd feelings she couldn’t quite put a name to, not for the first time that day.
“Aah!” a shrill cry was torn from her as her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp smack on her already-sore rump.
“Open up those legs, girl! I’m coming in!” the guard said and she immediately shuffled her legs apart, as if being fucked from behind by a complete stranger was an everyday occurrence – but then if the past few days were anything to go by – that’s exactly what it was shaping up to be.
He started with his fingers, sliding them up into her slowly and twisting them about inside her, stimulating her sheath to almost unbearable levels. To her shame and amazement she even began to squelch and she wished the ground would open up and swallow her as she heard his low chuckle behind her. They both knew what she was; or at least was rapidly becoming. The fingers withdrew and were replaced with the broad head of a cock that pushed up into her with no problem at all. He eased himself into her and settled his hands on her hips as he began to piston in and out in leisurely strokes. For the first time since her catastrophic fall from grace had started, Anna felt herself relax. She realised that what she really needed now was an orgasm on the end of a cock. Sex with another woman had been a revelation, but she needed a cock up inside her, and this man, unexpectedly enough was showing all the signs of driving her to a slow and excruciatingly ecstatic climax., the like of which she hadn’t experienced since back in the villa – a lifetime ago. She began to swing her hips and undulate her back.
“Oh, yes,” the guard murmured. “That’s very good!”
Inside her, the hard cock continued to slide against her inner tissues and spread the heat of excitement through her whole body, overtaking the heat of the beating and subsuming it, turning the feeling into a climb that felt as if it would have no end.
The man began to fuck her a bit more in earnest, his pelvis beginning to thump into her bottom. She put her head back and let out a long moan of purely animal lust. He grabbed a handful of hair and began to fuck her harder and faster, yanking hard on her hair to brace himself. The stinging in her scalp just added to the rush that was enveloping her. She cried out again as she felt a wave of unbearable sensation build up inside her, threatening to blow her apart when it finally erupted and the man kept on fucking her harder and harder. At last she screamed as she could no longer contain the pressure and her body bucked and shook as she was fucked to a climax as the man came inside her. Anna felt his seed spurt into her and felt his cock spasm as it spent and then she was slumped against the rough stone wall, her cheek flat against its coolness.
“Jesus! She’s a goer as well as a looker!”
Blearily, Anna raised her head and looked past her raised forearm. Two more men stood beside her and she let her head fall back against the wall as she felt the first man pull out of her. Surely she couldn’t come like that again, she thought. She really didn’t think she could stand an entire evening of climaxes like that – and how many men was she going to have to take anyway?
She never did find out the answer. She lost count after the sixth man had finished with her. Hands continually mauled at her hanging breasts as the men queued up to wait their turn with her. Her vagina was so flooded with her own juice and their spunk that it squirted out with a farting noise sometimes as the next man slid into her. Mercifully none of them wanted her rectum.
Eventually one man called a halt, saying that she had become so sloppy she wouldn’t provide any sensation at all.
“Let’s get His Honour to lend us his bint to clear her out. He’s always a sport when we’ve got a hot one!” he said.
For a few precious minutes Anna was left unmolested apart from the almost continual groping and squeezing of her tits and the flash bulbs of the phone cameras going off. Her tits were going to be all over the net the next morning, she thought, hazily. But by then she would be a legally owned slave anyway, and her owner would have total power over her body, so it really wouldn’t matter. The hiatus gave her head a chance to clear from the multiple orgasms that had racked her and by the time Miss Thorpe entered the cell, she was almost ready for another one. But the woman’s entrance shocked her into full awareness. She was still naked and was led in on a dog leash attached to a leather collar, the leather loop held by the man who had gone to borrow her, her arms were tied together behind her back and she showed even more welts than Anna had carried. But it was her nipples that caught Anna’s eye. The judge had been at them again; with needles this time. The woman carried three of them stuck through each thick, red nubbin, the plastic handles making a cheery pattern at the peaks of her breasts. The two women’s eyes met in the middle of a roomful of men. And Anna could read nothing but excitement in Miss Thorpe’s dark, wide-eyed gaze.
“Come on, Thorpey!” one of the men called. “Clean this slut out for us and get on with it!”
The woman was pushed behind Anna and forced to her knees. The sensation of the tongue licking up each thigh in turn, several times, without actually touching the lips of Anna’s engorged and sensitive cunt was exquisite. A torment, but an exquisite one. That was a concept she would never have understood up until the past couple of days. Now it was a very real experience.
Miss Thorpe’s tongue finally made contact with her clitoris and Anna’s world contracted into a tiny area of explosions that detonated through her entire body. She came again and this time she felt her stomach clamp and a strange pulsing run down her innards. There was a cheer from behind her and then Miss Thorpe’s tongue was back, this time foraging up into the vagina itself, making sure it was cleared out.
“Bloody hell! A spurter!” she heard a guard say as Miss Thorpe was pulled away.
“Haven’t had one of them through here for a while!”
Did they mean her? She had always enjoyed her orgasms but never had she ejaculated before. Groggily, Anna pulled her head back from resting against the wall and looked down and back between her legs, Miss Thorpe’s naked legs were just disappearing from behind her and there on the floor was a large patch of dampness. It was too far back and too large
to be spilled semen.
A hand smacked down onto her flank.
“Way to go, Babe! Let’s see if we can’t get another one like that out of you!”
And before Anna could sort out whether she felt ashamed or proud, another man was thrusting into her and the stimulation was back to its sharpest now she was clean of the accumulated spunk. But they were clearly bent on making sure there was plenty more put up her.
The policeman who had first fucked her was the last to leave. By then she was only upright when the man behind her held her hips up. As soon as they pulled out of her she slumped against the wall, hanging by her wrists. Miss Thorpe had been brought back twice more and each time had produced an ejaculation that had thrilled the men. Anna had probably done it in between times too, but as they were coming inside her at the time, it hadn’t been apparent. But now at last she was alone, trembling on all fours in the middle of the floor, her knees damp from the puddles of her own juice. The backs of her thighs and her groin were running in moisture, her vagina stung viciously, as did her back. Some of the men had had the idea that whipping her with a doubled over belt while they fucked her would make her more responsive. To her horror she had found they were right. Her breasts ached from the constant mauling they had taken. Once he had made sure she was alright the policeman left and in the small amount of light that came through the barred window in the door, Anna made her way wearily on all fours to the bed. She climbed up onto it and fell into unconsciousness immediately.
The photograph was of a woman’s face glancing fearfully out of the back window of a police car. It was in one of those magazines that specialise in following celebs and dissecting TV soap operas. It was a small article on page forty-seven, about right for a B – or maybe C - lister like Anna Chatham. She hadn’t been seen with anyone famous for a few months and had dropped down the paparazzi rankings. But there was no mistaking her and anyway the brief article made it clear that Anna had been arrested and brought back to the country in custody. The British police had taken her straight off the plane and whisked her away.
