Twelve Days a Slave Ch. 08

Turning once again to the crowd, he said slowly, "Now the punishment." His whips snapped twelve times in rapid succession as he was turning back around and all of the bells on the slave's breasts and underarms flew off across the stage. Her loud scream of pain was not fake as the clamps were torn from her body.

The Whipmaster paused and swung his whips underhand back and forth several times as if measuring his shot. Then both whips snaked out at the same time and the bells flew from her nipples. The bell on her tongue rang loudly and she screamed and thrashed against her restraints.

He again swung his whips in preparation for striking. It seemed to take him a long time to align his strike and the audience grew quiet in anticipation. Suddenly one whip snapped upward and the bell was torn from the slave's tongue. In response she thrashed even harder than before, but her scream was very subdued. Perhaps the pain in her tongue acted almost like a gag and prevented her from crying out.

There was only one bell left. The Whipmaster dropped one whip to the stage and stood carefully measuring his strike for well over a minute. Missy could see that almost everyone was leaning forward waiting for this final bell to be knocked free.

The whip suddenly slashed out and the bell... rang. It had barely touched it. He stood even longer moving the whip up and down and staring at the bell hanging between the bound slave's legs.

The whip slashed out again, this time much faster and harder than before. It came up between the slave's outspread legs and curled upward against her slit. The bell rang loudly as it was forcefully pulled off the unfortunate slave's clit. It continued to ring as it arched through the air toward The Whipmaster.

Without taking a step, he leaned slightly forward and caught the bell in his left hand. The crowd was on its feet applauding and cheering. Their cheers were almost loud enough to cover the poor slave's screams as she shook in her restraints. She was still shaking in pain as the assistants released her from the cuffs and took her backstage.

The Whipmaster waited until all the clapping and shouting had almost died down to walk once again to stage front. He stood quietly surveying the crowd. He waved slightly at several different women gathered in front of the stage. Then when everything was totally quiet, he said, "For this next portion of our act, we will need a volunteer from the audience."

Cries of "Me! Me! Me!" could be heard from the pack in front of the stage. Several dozen hands were raised among those women and perhaps a hundred or so more among the rest of the crowd. He made a big show of trying to make a decision. At one point he even stood stroking his well-manicured beard as he stared down at the possible choices.

Finally he pointed with the handle of his whip and said, "This young lady... the blonde with the bright top."

A mid-twenties woman wearing a bright blue top and an off-white pleated miniskirt started bouncing up and down a clapping her hands. She was crying out in joy like she had just won some great fabulous prize. Two of the assistants were already down front. They took her by the hands and led her up onto the stage.

The Whipmaster now had a microphone in his hands. "Tell us your first name, and a little about yourself." he said pleasantly.

"Julianna," the woman replied. She was trebling with excitement. The way she was bouncing up and down, and the style of dress she was wearing, she almost looked like a cheerleader on the sidelines of a big game somewhere. "I moved here about a year ago. I'm one of the waitresses at Club Risque on Route 12 just outside of town."

The Whipmaster smiled broadly. He knew the place. Club Risque was just that, a supper club with R-rated entertainment. There was no outright stripping, but the comics were gross and the acts were mostly scantily-clad women singing songs filled with innuendo while they slithered around the stage from one provocative pose to another. Most of the females in town thought a good old-fashioned, honest, strip club would have been less degrading and humiliating for women.

The audience responded to her self-introduction with a low, "Ohhhh", that swept through the crowd along with many knowing looks passed between the men.

"You sound like the perfect woman to help me show this crowd one of my family's holiday traditions," The Whipmaster said encouragingly. "Are you willing to do that?"

"Yes," the woman answered. She was watching the whip in his other hand as she spoke, and her answer sounded very tenuous.

"What do I have to do?" she asked in a shaky voice.

"All you have to do," he replied, "is to hold the holiday ham while I slice it."

One of the assistants joined them on stage. She was carrying a small metal serving tray with about a twelve pound boneless ham sitting on it.

"Of course," The Whipmaster continued, "I come from a long line of Whipmasters, so our family traditions are a little different." Gently pushing her forward into a bend, he said, "You bend over and hold this ham on your back while I slice it with my whip." He looked down into her eyes, "Are you willing to do that?"

She nodded her head.

"The audience would like to hear your answer," he said gently and she again nodded her head, but clearly said. "Yes", at the same time.

"You are still trembling with excitement... or is it fear?" he said. It was difficult to tell if he was speaking to her or to the audience, because he was facing out as he said it. "Maybe it would be easier if you had something to support your stomach to hold it steady while you hold the tray. Do you think we should do that?"

She again nodded and said, "Yes."

Two other assistants came out on stage and guided her over to the high spanking bench. Missy looked down at them an shook her head. "Lady," she said softly, "you are being conned. By the time this is all over you are going to have a red ass."

Julianna didn't hear her, and even if she did, she was too far under The Whipmaster's wily spell to care.

The assistants lay Julianna over the high padded bench. They pushed up her blouse so that they could pull the wide leather strap across her bare back.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

After she nodded, the assistant carrying the ham placed it on the small of her back so that it was resting partially on her bent buttocks.

"You are still moving around too much," he said. "Perhaps if you grabbed that bar beneath your hands, you will be able to stay much quieter. Can you do that?"

She reached down, but her arms weren't long enough. Her finger tips barely touched the bar.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm afraid we are going to have to get a different volunteer... unless... Yes! This bench is used in a different way in a another segment of my act. There are some wrist cuffs that would hold your arms still. We could use them! Do you want us to cuff your hands so you can remain still?"

Julianna was probably the only person in the whole arena who didn't recognize that she was being manipulated into allowing herself to be put in bondage. She nodded her head and said softly, "OK."

The Whipmaster stepped back behind her and started swinging his whip as if preparing to strike. Suddenly he stopped and said loudly, "Oh, no! This isn't going to work. I should have picked someone wearing pants."

He then walked around in front of Julianna and said, "The wind is blowing your skirt around. It keeps getting in the way of where my whip needs to strike. This has to be very precise, so I need a totally clear path to the ham. I'm afraid we are going to have to let you go back to the audience."

Missy and everyone in the audience had one question in their minds, "What wind?"

Julianna was tearing up badly. She had already invested so much of herself in this and now it was all for nothing.

"She could take it off," one of the assistants suggested.

"Oh, I would never ask her to do that," The Whipmaster said as he shook his head. "She would be displaying her panties to this entire crowd. It would be asking too much of her. It would take a really strong-willed woman to do that."

The assistant walked in front of Julianna so that they could see each other's faces. "Are you a strong-willed woman? Would you like me to take off your dress so The Whipmaster can proceed?"

Julianna hesitated, but then nodded her head. Her lips were pressed firmly together in silence, but he didn't ask to her repeat her answer out loud. Instead he gave a hand signal and the assistant walked around behind Julianna and slipped the white dress down her legs.

Her panties weren't exactly granny panties, but they did cover most of her ass. The assistant who had been handling the ham returned it to Julianna's back. This time, however, it was almost totally balanced on the edge of her buttocks.

The Whipmaster returned to his striking position and again began to limber up the whip. He had just started to begin to move it with some speed when the ham came crashing down to the stage.

"No! Not again!" he wailed. "I am so sorry," said to her. "It appears that your panties are too slippery and the ham won't stay in place. ... After all you've done for us. I am so sorry."

"Take them off," came a very soft voice. Julianna continued, "If that's what it takes, take them off."

"I would never ask that of you," he replied, "but since you suggested it..."

One of the assistants stepped forward and slowly pulled the white panties down. As she did so, the bright stage lights reflected off the gathering wetness between the woman's legs.

"She's getting turned on by this!" missy said to herself in surprise.

The ham assistant picked everything up from the stage and once again placed the tray more securely on Julianna's back. Then she reached down and moved the bound woman's legs out slightly so they aligned with the leg restraints.

Julianna did not resist or say anything as the assistant slowly wrapped the restraints around each ankle.

The Whipmaster once again took his place and began swinging the whip. After several swings, he brought it around in a circle and then used his wrist to snap it down onto the ham. A section of the ham a little over an inch wide fell over onto the tray.

He again swung the whip several times and again brought it around in an arc over his head before snapping it down on the ham. Another one-inch slice folded over onto the tray.

Five more times he snapped the whip down on the ham and each time another one-inch slice was added to the tray. Now there was only a two-inch piece still upright on the tray. He swung his whip slowly several times as he carefully examined that piece. Then with a loud swish he brought the whip through the entire arc so that the tip slashed downward through the ham. There was a loud clang as the tip hit the tray and Julianna jumped slightly from the impact which she felt through the metal.

The Whipmaster turned and bowed to the crowd. The applause was good, but nowhere near what it had been for his other tricks. It wasn't that the ham cutting had not been impressive. It was very impressive. Their applause was subdued because they somehow knew that this wasn't the end of the segment. Something better was yet to come.

The assistant removed the tray and ham from Julianna's back and walked off stage. The Whipmaster walked up directly behind her and stood for a moment looking at the fluids trickling down her leg.

"This excited you very much, didn't it?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "Each time my whip cut into the ham, you were imagining it raising a welt across your ass, weren't you?"

He reached up and traced a line across her ass cheeks with one of his fingers. "The reason you let us strip you and tie you in place is that deep down in those secret places of your mind, you were hoping that I would use this whip on your naked ass in front of all these people."

She was once again trembling. Her head slowly nodded.

"Say it!" he commanded.

"Yes!" she screamed out. "I was hoping that you would whip my naked ass!"

Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O of surprise. Had she really said that out loud?

The Whipmaster was now stroking her ass cheeks with one hand while his other slid between her legs to very lightly stroke her slit. "Would you like me to whip your ass?" he asked. "I won't cut you like I did the ham. I won't even break the skin. It will just raise some nasty welts to remind you of this for a week or two."

His voice was very soft and soothing as he asked, "Do you want me to do that for you?"

"Yes," she replied in a very throaty voice.

"You really should be totally naked for this," he said. She said nothing, instead began to breathe deeper and deeper as one of the assistants removed her blouse and bra. They had to uncuff her hands for a moment to slip them off her arms, but Julianna did not resist. In fact, she set her wrists back into the cuffs so the assistant could re-bind them.

Meanwhile, The Whipmaster was continuing to stroke Julianna's ass. "How many times should I strike you?" he asked softly.

"Until I cum," she answered. Her need was now as apparent in her voice as it was in her body.

"I didn't quite hear that," he said. "I have to be sure because I don't want to give you more than you asked for."

"Whip my ass until I cum!" she yelled out. Her whole body was now vibrating with her need.

The Whipmaster stepped upstage of the bound woman's ass so that he could deliver the blows from the side but not block the audience's view. He snaked the whip back and forth several times before snapping it out so that it landed squarely across both ass cheeks.

"Aiiiiieeeee!" she screamed, but she did not yell for him to stop. Instead she began panting deeply.

A second snap echoed through the arena and she screamed once again. This time it was more of an "Ahhhhhhh" than an "Aiieee."

Another snap. Jullianna twisted and thrashed in her restraints, but the scream was again softer.

By the fifth strike, the scream had turned into a moan. The insides of both of her legs glistened brightly under the stage lights. The crowd was silent. Missy could see that a number of women in the audience seemed to be almost going into a trance. Several standing up front by the stage had their hands down their skirts or shorts.

The moan became louder with each strike of the whip until on the fourteenth blow, the moan again became a long, drawn out, "Aiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" as Julianna humped furiously against the padded shelf which held her upright.

Now the crowd exploded in applause and cheers. Mixed among those cheers, missy could also hear several other Aiiiiieeeee's-- including her own. Julianna was not the only one to orgasm from the experience.

After the applause had died down and the crowd was once again seated, William strode out on stage to join The Whipmaster. "It is time now," he said solemnly, "to witness today's punishment."

Missy's cage began to slowly descend. As it was coming down, several of the stage crew pushed a platform onto the stage. Mounted on that platform was a metal pole about eight feet high. It had been painted to look like a telephone pole and was about the same size, but it was very smooth and the cracks and grain were obviously painted on. From the top hung a set of wrist restraints. Their chain went over the top of the pole and was secured on the back to some sort of winch mechanism.

The cage settled onto the stage with a soft "Thump!" and William unlocked the huge padlock. After missy stepped out, he removed her chains and collar and led her over to the post. It was pretty obvious what she was supposed to do, so she raised her hands above her head so they could be wrapped with the restraints.

William then nudged her foot with his indicating that she should spread her legs. She did and he nudged again. She was now very widely spread. William then stooped down and attached a restraint to her ankle. He nudged her other leg and she moved it even farther out. He then attached the second ankle cuff.

"This is called a Lambda Restraint," The Whipmaster explained to the crowd. He pronounced it "lam-bu-duh."

Two of the assistants walked to the front of the stage carrying white cards with a black symbol on them that looked very much like missy's body did hanging from the restraints. "This is because," he continued, "the person's body looks very much like the Greek letter Lambda, especially if they lose consciousness and hang limply from their wrists."

The Whipmaster then moved into position and William continued the explanation. "The Lambda Restraint is actually the best one to use when whipping because there are no posts or walls to prevent the whip from curving around to the sides of the person's body."

Missy could not see him, but could tell by the change in the volume of his voice, he was now looking at her. "In addition, the person being whipped is often forced to press their body against the rough wood in an attempt to escape the pain."

"Rough wood?" missy thought. "This thing is totally smooth. I could slide against it all day with no problem."

"For most people held in the Lambda's grip, however," he continued as he turned back to face the crowd, "there is no escape from the pain."

"Oh!" missy said aloud. She then continued silently, "He's telling me how I can get through this." She tentatively ground her crotch against the metal pole. "This could work... or at least I hope it will work."

William reverted to his ringmaster voice and cried out, "Ladies and Gentlemen. You are about to witness an attempt at a record. The Whipmaster's record for consecutive strokes of the whip without breaking skin is currently forty-two. Today he will attempt to extend that record to forty-six."

He then walked over to missy and pretended to check the restraints. As he reached up to check the wrist cuffs, his mouth was close to missy's ear. "Don't worry," he said quietly, "he's actually gone well over one-hundred in past years." He laughed softly and added, "But the audience doesn't know that."

After William stepped back, there was a long silence-- a long, long silence-- as The Whipmaster stood behind missy slowly moving his whip up and back. The long leather snaked back and forth as the tension grew in the crowd. Finally, when the buzz of the crowd dipped to total silence for just a moment, he flicked his wrist in a slightly different way and the whip snapped out across missy's ass.

The loud "crack!" could be heard throughout the stands. Also heard throughout the stands was missy's quick shriek as she cried out in pain. It felt as if her ass were suddenly on fire. To the people in the crowd, it seemed as if the force of the blow drove missy forward onto the post, but it was just her own muscles reacting to the noise and pain.

The smooth metal post seemed especially cold as missy ground her crotch against the pole as the pain reverberated throughout her body. She knew that the only way she could endure the pain was to go into the pain and hopefully change it into pleasure. Actually, it wasn't pleasure she sought as much as the lessening of the pain sensations.

"Hurt but not harm," she began saying to herself over and over and over again.

"Crack!" the whip slashed once again into her body.

She again ground her crotch into the pole as she tried to deal with the pain. A new welt appeared across her ass about a hand's width up from the previous strike.

"Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm, Hurt but not harm," she found herself repeating. With each "Hurt," she pushed herself forward against the cold metal.

"Crack!" the whip struck again. The Whipmaster had moved up exactly the same spacing to leave a third welt across missy's back.