Megan gasped, but then twisted away again when he tried to undo her pants.
“God dammit!” Jimmy shouted at her. “Stop!”
“No!” Megan shouted back. She then spit on him with all the force she could muster.
Jimmy’s hand came out of nowhere and smashed into the side of her face.
Tears sprang to her eyes and her busted lip quivered at the blow, but the resistance did not stop.
Jimmy struck her again.
Megan still didn’t stop even though parts of her mind were pleading with her to do so.
“Fine!” Jimmy snapped and grabbed the bucket of water.
Megan saw what was coming and quickly tried to shift herself out of the way, but couldn’t, and caught the splash full force, her eyes closing at the last second as the water came at her.
“Ahhhh,” she gasped at the coldness. She then felt her body being lifted into the air just like Samantha’s had been, only this time it didn’t stop until her feet were once again several inches off the floor.
“I don’t know why you fight me like this,” Jimmy said. “You always lose in the end.”
Megan didn’t reply.
Jimmy undid his belt.
Megan had an idea what was coming and braced herself.
“I told you that from now on I will punish Samantha if you act out,” Jimmy said. “First I shall show you what it feels like to be whipped.”
Jimmy disappeared behind her.
A second later the belt snapped across her wet back, the thin fabric of her shirt offering no protection whatsoever.
Don’t scream!
Megan bit down hard, her teeth trying to lock in place.
Jimmy hit her again.
The only sound that echoed was the leather snapping across her back.
Jimmy hit her again, and again, and again.
Megan just barely managed to stay silent this time.
The next blow was the hardest of all, one that she knew Jimmy used all his strength on. Not screaming once the leather landed was impossible, especially when the tip wrapped around her body and snapped into her breast.
Jimmy hit her five more times after that, his arm holding nothing back with each blow, the leather cracking as it cut into her and causing her body to sway in the air.
“Please stop!” Megan cried, tears running down her checks.
Jimmy paused for a moment and then came around and wrapped the belt around her throat and pulled.
Megan couldn’t breathe at all.
“I could do this all night and would if you two didn’t smell so bad. Tomorrow morning I’m going to clean you with soap whether you like it or not and then will whip you again just so you remember how it feels. Samantha too.”
He let go and she struggled for air, her violent gasps completely audible.
Jimmy gave Samantha five good strikes after that, each one causing her to scream, and then let her shirt fall back down over her body, one which wasn’t completely soaked like Megan’s clothes were.
He then let her down so that she was on her knees. The position would still be incredibly painful, but nowhere near as bad as hanging from the wrists, or even standing.
Please let me down too, Megan said to herself, her body already starting to shiver with the cold wet clothes. Please.
Jimmy did let her down enough so that her toes could support her weight a bit; though she was sure it wasn’t a result of her thoughts.
Jimmy looked at the torn fingernail on his left hand in what was left of the sunlight in the Hood’s yard and grimaced. The nail had gotten caught on Megan’s pants while she had been twisting away from him, either on the button or the zipper, and before he even realized it the nail had ripped.
At first the rip didn’t hurt all that much since the nail itself didn’t have any nerves, but then as the air started touching the sensitive skin beneath, and as the area near the cuticle realized the nail had split down into the root, the pain arrived and it was bad. Anger followed but it did little to mask the throb pulsating from the middle finger.
Had it been his right hand he wouldn’t have been able to do much more in the fallout shelter, but since it wasn’t he still had been able to whip Megan. The actions weren’t pleasurable though which is why he hadn’t gone all out. Instead it had felt like a necessary task, one which he had wanted to finish quickly so he could head home and tend to his finger.
Most of my visits feel like necessary task, Jimmy realized. Almost as if they are pets that I no longer want but need to take care of.
It was frustrating. His fantasies had never detailed any of this stuff. Instead he had always seen the girls hanging from their wrists and doing whatever he ordered them to do, their minds too weak and scared to even consider the possibility of disobeying him.
Go back in, cut off her cloths, and leave her hanging naked all night.
Jimmy considered this for a long time but ultimately vetoed the idea, mostly because it seemed like too much of a hassle at the moment. He also had never really cared much for nudity. It seemed boring. He would much rather force her into some humiliating fetish outfit and leave her there. That wasn’t a possibility either.
Still, you should have done something more.
Tomorrow morning he would punish her, that is, if he wasn’t too tired after cleaning them again.
He took another look at his finger and then headed into the woods to get his bike. Once that was in hand he started walking toward the street and was just exiting the yard when a sheriff deputy cruiser drove by.
He froze.
The cruiser continued forward for several feet and then came to a halt.
Run!
The impulse was strong, but he didn’t give in to it, his eyes having seen enough real life police shows to know such action was foolish. Instead he stood his ground as if he had done nothing wrong and waited for the deputy to back up.
A second later he was face to face with Deputy Paul Widgeon who just happened to be the youngest law enforcement official with the Sheriff Department, one who had been honorably discharged from the military two years earlier after serving three combat tours. The guy was a town hero, one who everyone had welcomed home after his military discharge with a huge barbecue behind the Mayor’s Office. It had been fun.
“Hey Jimmy,” Paul said. “What are you doing out and about?”
“Just riding my bike,” Jimmy said. His heart was racing even though he knew Paul well. When he and Alan had been younger and Paul in high school the guy would help them organize games of capture the flag in the woods.
“Looks more like you’re walking your bike.”
“Yeah, that’s because I fell,” Jimmy said. He held up his finger. “Look.”
“Ouch,” Paul said. “Let me get the first aid kit and fix that up for you.”
“Oh don’t worry about it; I know you guys are busy. I’ll just clean it at home.”
“Nonsense.” Paul popped the trunk and got out, the limp he had came home with from the war just barely visible thanks to all the hours he spent conditioning it. “I’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”
Jimmy sighed. This was the last thing he wanted or needed, especially this close to the fallout shelter.
“You’ve been riding your bike quite a bit I hear,” Paul said. “Trying to get in shape for something?”
Jimmy shrugged. “More like I’m really restless and am not sure what I want to do now that school is pretty much over. I’ll be graduating soon and have no plans really.”
“I know what you mean.” He took hold of Jimmy’s hand and looked at the finger. “Ah, not too bad. Hurts like a son-of-a-bitch though I bet.”