As Jan shuddered out her orgasm, Donna moaned in frustration. Servicing her mistress always got her horny too, and that delicious pain of her mistress squeezing her breasts had added to the excitement. Donna was again very sorry that she couldn’t even touch herself. If she could just reach her breasts... And it would have been so nice to touch her sex. Her fingers wiggled uselessly beneath her.
Jan kissed Donna sweetly before leaving her. Donna wanted so much to beg for her mistress to bring her to climax that it was an ache inside her loins. But she bit her tongue and held back the words. Slavegirls do not request satisfaction. Satisfaction was their mistress’ to give when it pleased her, not when it pleased a slave.
For a while after being left alone Donna cried and jerked her body around in an emotional assault upon the ropes that only left her just as securely bound and frustrated. The moon was directly over head when Donna finally fell asleep only to dream dreams of being tightly bound up and teased constantly but never allowed to reach orgasm. In her dreams that form of torture went on for days and days.
Donna awoke to the find the dawn tinting the eastern sky pink. The bears had not eaten her during the night.
Two days later Donna was once again in the small clearing where she had spent the night with her legs raised in the air. This time it was mid morning and Pip obviously had something else in mind. Donna noted the couple extra coils of rope that Pip carried, as well as the riding crop tucked into the waist band of her jeans. Given the chance to buy clothes at the local stores, Pip had assumed a Western mode and wore mostly blue jeans, colorful shirts and boots. This day her shirt was bright green. She positioned Jan facing one of the younger trees and a couple feet away from it. Donna’s clothing didn’t get to run to Western. It was early slavegirclass="underline" full nudity save for the metal collar and the ropes holding her arms tightly behind her back. Those ropes, instead of holding her wrists crossed, held them palm to palm and the elbows bound together tightly. And a gag, if you count a gag as clothing. It was the usual rubber wad with straps tightly buckled around her head.
It was a classic sight, a nude and uncomfortably tightly bound slavegirl being led by a teenage girl in cowboy dress. The nude slavegirl was older by half a dozen years and bigger, but the ropes made her helpless and completely obedient to the will of the youngster.
And that will was that she bend forward and down until her head was below her waist. Pip then walked her forward until her shoulders were against the tree trunk. Then she took rope and wrapped it around Donna’s wrists and the trunk, pinning her hands to the rough bark. A second length of rope then wrapped around her arms at the elbows, locking her arms firmly to the tree. The teenager then bound her ankles tightly together.
To Donna it was a strange way to be tied. She was standing but her head was straight down and her arms, from shoulder to fingers, were solidly bound to the tree. She could not lift her head because the back of it was against the tree. Even if her ankles had not been bound together, she could not have moved from her prison tree. With them bound, she could do nothing but stand. Stand and be aware how much her bottom was sticking up in the air. The reason for the riding crop was now apparent, and would soon be painfully apparent. But first Pip teased Donna’s hanging breasts and pussy. The teenager was showing signs of preferring her slavegirl to be sexually excited before being whipped. And Donna’s body complied, warming up and tingling to the touch of those slender fingers. Donna didn’t want to get all excited but there was nothing she could do about it. The fact that she felt very helpless in this position didn’t help. Nor did the fact that she knew she would soon be suffering a whipping across her bare bottom. Soon she was moaning and praying for Pip to make a little mistake and take her over the line into a wonderful orgasm. But Pip was too good at it, probably from much practice with her sister, and she withdrew just before Donna reached that wonderful state of orgasm.
A second later the first blow landed across her curved rear end, a shocking burst of fire that made her gasp into her gag, “Mmmmmphhhh!” The second slash of the riding crop brought two gasps, one from the pain and a second later another, as Donna crashed into an unexpected orgasm. Pip must have gotten her very close, indeed, for two quick strokes from the leather whip to have Donna gasping out pleasure mixed with her pain. Her fingers wiggled but the arms didn’t move. Her bottom swayed from side to side and up and down as her legs pumped it.
Pip stood back in surprise but quickly realized what was happening and laughed. It hadn’t been planned that way but she was delighted that a couple whip strokes could make her slavegirl reach a sexual climax. Suddenly an idea struck her and she lashed out again with the riding crop. Donna cried out as the fiery pain exploded in her bottom, It was such a mixture of pain and pleasure that she nearly fainted.
Pip let her slavegirl come down from the sexual high before continuing the whipping, “Mommy says I can only give you a dozen strokes,” she commented. “But she didn’t say I couldn’t make them as hard as I can.” The fourth stroke illustrated her point quite dramatically. By the end of all dozen, Donna was crying and Pip was horny as hell. While considering if she might release Donna so that the slavegirl could service her, Jan walked into the clearing. Jan expertly counted the marks across the taut flesh of Donna’s bottom, confirming that there were no more than twelve. Then she took the whip from Pip’s hand, Without preamble she cut loose with a stroke that evoked far more reaction from the bound girl than any of the others had. Jan’s stronger arm and expert slash had doubled the pain of any previous stroke. Donna whined through the gag and wiggled her bottom in frustration and because there was nothing else she could do. Both Pip and Jan liked the way that marked up flesh was wiggling back and forth before them. Jan cut it again. Then again.
“I called Nigel. The detective is making no progress in finding that woman.” She cut at Donna’s bottom again.
The fact that Donna knew Jan was only taking out her anger and frustration on her did not make the pain any less but it did help her forgive her beloved mistress.
“They don’t think she’s from this country but that only makes it harder.” She cut Donna’s bottom three times in a row and Donna, despite her desire to hold it in, screamed into the gag.
In Jan’s pause, Pip asked quietly, “Mommy? Nigel can’t ask anything of that Mr. Kroff. But what about the other man who was there?”
“What?”
“The third buyer. Maybe he knows who the woman is. All three of them were talking together,”
Jan dropped the riding crop and stared at her daughter.
“Didn’t you tell the detective?”
“He didn’t ask me. I’m sorry if I did wrong.”
“Don’t worry, baby. Come on, we’ve got to talk to Nigel.” A dozen feet down the path, Jan stopped to look back at Donna. “Don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere, Mommy,” said Pip. Jan nodded and they both sped down the path.
Donna whined into her gag. But this time it wasn’t only from the pain in her rear. It was because she wanted to be there if Nigel could do anything with this new information.
An hour later Jan and Pip returned. “Pip told Nigel all she could remember about the third buyer,” she said without preamble to the still bent over nudity. “He’s passing it on to the detective right now. Maybe...”
Pip untied Donna’s arms and took out the gag, All three of them walked back to the house, a strange mixture of hope and despair.
8
Pain in a Distant Land
Donna was lounging on the couch in the den when the phone call came. As usual, she was naked and her wrists crossed and bound behind her back. In addition, that morning, she was wearing a pair of handcuffs locked around her slender ankles. They didn’t stop her from walking around the house but they certainly did slow her down and make her steps much smaller.