Bound Ankles

7 More Torture

The trip back was made without incident. Jan and Pip were a strange mixture of happiness and sadness, both glad to be together again but both very much aware of the missing Patsy. Even Nigel was unusually silent, and Donna didn’t feel right trying to make conversation with three people she was used to being submissive to. Instead she sat quietly and wondered about what Patsy was having to go through.

In a place far from the aircraft flying back to Los Angeles, in a strange land with strange language, Patsy was suffering. At the same moment Donna was wondering about her, Patsy was standing on a very small block of wood, trying to keep her balance while clothespins were causing her considerable pain.

And it was imperative that she keep her balance. The teenage girl was standing on one foot on a small wooden block barely the size of the ball of her small foot. Her arms were tightly bound behind her, elbows together, and her other foot was tied up towards the wrists forcing it into a bent position and making her one foot stand, very difficult. But what made it terribly important not to fall was the rope noose around her neck. The block of wood was only a foot tall but if it were not there the teenager’s toes would fail to meet the floor and a slow death by strangulation would surely follow.

To add to her suffering, wooden clothespins had been clamped upon many soft parts of her body. The cute nipples had only been the first two. There were also clothespins biting viciously into most of the flesh on her breasts, into the soft flesh of her tummy, and a large handful painfully clamped upon her vagina lips and any other part of her sex that could possibly hold a clothespin. In addition, there were more holding on to the skin of her bottom making her rear look strange. And, as a joke, clothespins had even been clamped to her ear lobs, making them look like earrings.

The unfortunate youngster had been standing on that block for almost an hour now and muscle in her leg were trembling with the strain. She was in a small room of native stone blocks with no window. Her, the block, and the rope round her neck were the only furnishings. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold out when the door opened with a creak. The woman who came in was tall, with long black hair and dark eyes. She wore a tight fitting leather bikini and high heels that clicked and clacked on the stone floor. There was a small rose tattoo on her left ankle.

“So, you are still alive? How strange. Most girls would have fallen by now. You are very good.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and held only a wicked delight in the suffering of the naked teenager before her. “The rope is tight around your neck, no? Your muscles burn and scream at you, no? One tiny slip and...” She tapped the block with her toes, just hard enough to make Patsy more nervous.

“Please Madam Natasha...” began Patsy.

“Hush! Remember, no pleading. Meet your fate bravely, little one! If you are to die here, today, then so be it. But do not go whimpering and whining like a whipped dog.”

“I was only going to remind you that you paid a great deal of money for me. You certainly wouldn’t want to waste that. Would you?”

“Money? Money is of little importance. I could buy a dozen girls such as yourself every week and never run out of money. And, remember what I told you, life is cheap in this country. I could go to one of the hill villages and buy a young girl for what you probably spent on clothes in one shopping trip to the mall.” Her voice was accented strangely but the English educated and correct. She went over and pulled gently on the clothespin attached to her left nipple. “Wonderful invention you Americans have in these clothespins. So practical for torture. And you sell them in very supermarket! Very strange country.” With a small, humorless laugh she got back to the subject. “I have had young girls impaled upon sharpened poles just to watch them scream and slowly die, I have put girls on a block such as you are and sat back to watch they struggle to prolong their miserable lives a few more minutes. But they all made a mistake sooner or later. It’s impossible to stand on that one foot forever, you know. Sooner or later the muscles in that leg will be trembling. Already they are on fire, no? Already there are little tremors, no? I can see this is so. If I were to walk out that door, you would be dead within the hour.”

She walked around her victim. “Do you know what kills a man when he is hung? It is the drop. The rope snaps tight and breaks his neck. That kind of hanging is clean and quick. A mere few seconds and the body is lifeless.” Her eyes glowed. “But with the rope taut and the fall only a few inches, the neck will not break. The rope will tighten when your weight is upon it. It will squeeze your neck. Air will be harder and harder to fight for. You will reach for the ground and it will be oh so close! You will kick and jerk around in panic and desperation. If your neck is strong, you will last many minutes. But you will die, it is inevitable.” In tones of a woman describing a fine meal, she continued. “Your eyes will bulge. Your face will turn purple. Near the end your tongue will protrude from your lips. Your gasps and wheezes will be pathetic. Your suffering will be great. And in the end you will die. All will become dark while your mind screams against it. Then your pain will end.”

Patsy keep silent. She had already seen enough of this woman and suffered enough at her hands to know that she was insane.

“Does that not sound right, my dear?” The dark woman purred with delight at the fear in her captive’s eyes. “All I have to do is push the slightest and you will slip from that oh so small piece of wood. Like this.” With a gentle kick she knocked the wood out from under Patsy’s foot.

Everything was as the woman had described. Patsy’s toes reached in vain for the solid floor only a couple inches below them. She gasped for breath and could draw in very little. Her face began slowly turning darker, a little more as each agonizing second crawled onward. Her eyes were wide with fear and panic. Finally her free foot did kick at the air, wildly searching for something to support her. There was nothing.

Calmly, as if she had all the time in the world, Madam Natasha watched the struggles of this beautiful teenage girl. Her face was a blank. Perhaps she was savoring the terror and pain, perhaps not.

Suddenly her body leaped into the air. Her right arms slashed out in a wide arc, the fingers held stiff and flat. Her long red painted fingernails found the rope and easily sliced through it as would the sharpest razor.

Patsy’s body was hitting the floor as the strange woman landed lightly on her feet. The noose around Patsy’s neck had been a slip loop, not a hangman’s noose. It eased up immediately as her weight came off it. The teenage girl lay on the floor, sucking in air gratefully.

Madam Natasha calmly walked towards the door.

“Apparently not today,” she said quietly.

“Bitch,” spat Patsy as the door closed.

A world away from the suffering of Jan’s daughter, the mother sat in the den of Nigel’s Big Bear Lake house and watched as a private detective asked questions of Pip. The teenager was holding up well as she described how she and Patsy had been held prisoner at the slave trader’s house, kept in constant very strict bondage and chains. Finally there was the inspection by three potential buyers, all at the same time. The three disappeared and later two came back to claim their prizes. After that Pip and Patsy were both bound tightly and packaged in the wooden shipping crates for transportation. Pip could remember little of the trip for it was spent in darkness and discomfort for many long hours. She didn’t even now what country she was in until Nigel and Jan pulled her out of that hunting lodge.

The detective then quizzed her on the appearance of the other buyer, the one who now had Patsy. But she could add little to what the other Donna had said. On a black pad of paper she sketched the basic features of dark haired and eyed woman. She did remember the rose tattoo but could offer no other distinguishing marks. She tried to describe the woman’s accent but could not place it beyond that it sounded vaguely European.

Having gotten everything there was to get out of Pip, the detective left with a promise to put all his resources on the case. But he had to admit that it sounded like Patsy had been taken to some other country farther away than Canada. He was obviously optimistic only for Jan’s benefit.

For a while Jan and Nigel talked but there was little they could do beyond wait. Nigel had business functions he had been neglecting and had to get back to his regular home. He would come back when he could or when some word arrived about Patsy.

Jan and Pip made some more coffee and, after an hour or so, went to the bedroom to offer coffee to Donna.

Donna, as was usual for her, was naked and tied so she could not escape. Her wrists were crossed and bound behind her back in Jan’s usual manner and with Jan’s usual inescapability. She was sitting on the bed, legs wide spread and tied to the bottom comers. It was a rather comfortable position for her.

“Any news?” she asked as soon as Jan appeared.

“The detective is trying to track down that other woman. But I don’t think he has much hope.”

“Isn’t there something else we could do?” insisted Donna. “Nigel says that Rashad’s is too well guarded for us to try and sneak in to find out who his customers are. Besides, Nigel doesn’t think that he keeps records. The whole business is highly illegal, you know. He doesn’t think there is any way we could force the information out of Rashad.” Donna sighed. “Something will happen,” she offered.

“Patsy will be found and then we’ll go and get her. We got Pip, didn’t we?”

“He didn’t show it much but Nigel was shaken up by what happened up there. He had taken a gun because he thought he would only use it as a threat. Instead we killed two people.”

“But we got Pip,” insisted Donna.

“Yes, we got Pip,” Jan said, brightening up a bit and putting her arm around her daughter’s shoulder.

For a while longer nothing more was said until Jan, looking (Jut the window, made a suggestion. “It’s a nice day outside, Pip. Why don’t you take Donna for a walk?” She then went on to tell Pip which path to take and that she should be back by dinner.

Pip thought it was a good idea and immediately untied Donna’s feet from the bed. She knotted a rope to Donna’s collar and set off right after adding some more rope to her pocket.

The day was indeed beautiful, the sun warm and the air clear and good to breathe. They walked along for a few minutes without saying a thing. Except for the difference in trees, this was not dissimilar to all those times when Pip and Patsy had taken Donna out into the garden to bind her for the day. But neither of them could forget that only Pip was leading their slavegirl into the forest and her punishment.

Finally Pip selected a part of the trail where some dense trees provided a shield from prying eyes. There she led Donna a little off the trail to an area where several small pine trees formed a circle. There she tied Donna’s leash to a tree while she carefully inspected the trees in the circle. Satisfied, she untied Donna’s leash from her collar and ordered the older girl to stand in the middle of the circle. She tied one rope to Donna’s left elbow and ran that over to a tree where she tossed it over a branch. A second length of rope was run from her other elbow over the branch of a tree on the other side. Then Pip carefully pulled and tied each rope to Donna’s elbows so that she was firmly held between the trees by tight ropes. Then she tied a rope to each ankle and used the same two trees to spread Donna’s legs wide apart. As Donna’s legs widened, she was lowered and the ropes around her elbows tighten and partly supported her. When Pip was finished, Donna was barely able to hold her balance. If the ropes had not been attached to her elbows, she would quickly have fallen on her face.

“Can you escape?” asked Pip.

Donna, as she usually did, tugged at the ropes and twisted, this way and that. Soon enough she was able to report that she could not free herself and, indeed, she was a prisoner in the forest. “I didn’t bring a whip, you know,” said Pip. A small smile was on her face as she warmed to her favorite task, punishing an naked slavegirl. “But I have this last length of rope.” She folded the leash rope until it was doubled twice. That made it about the length of a riding crop. Pip swished the rope against her free hand a couple of times to gage the amount of pain it might inflict. “We can see what it can do.”

Donna was taken suddenly back by the first blow. Pip had swung her arm upward before Donna expected it and was unprepared for the surprising blow directly between her legs. She gasped and a tiny cry of pain escaped her lips. It was nothing like being whipped there with a riding crop or that other short whip the twins sometimes used on her pussy, but it stung with surprising intensity.

Pip walked around her naked captive, slashing her rope whip at unprotected parts as the whim occurred. The rope made a sharp thud against the flesh of Donna’s bottom and a little sharper sound against the backs of her thighs.

“It’s nothing like a real whip, is it?” Pip asked. “No,” admitted Donna. “But it hurts.”

Pip’s reply was to slash the rope directly across Donna’s breasts. “Oh! I said it hurts! Don’t you believe me?”

“I’m sure it does,” the teenager said sweetly. “But not much. I doubt I could put any real marks on your skin. All I see is redness but no nice purples or blues.”

“I’m sorry,” Donna started to say, but bit it back. Instead she meekly offered, “But it does hurt, really it does.”

Pip then began a long, drawn out session of slashing Donna’s naked body all-over with the rope whip. Very little of her skin was spared but also very little damage was done. Her breasts and bottom were red and the inside of her thighs turned a nice color but it was hardly the purple, black and blue that the twins so enjoyed watching form on Donna’s bare skin.

Still, as a punishment, this rope whipping had it’s merits.

Pip could swing away with all her strength and not do any serious damage. But the ropes stung the skin enough keep Donna whining and squealing.

Pip took rest periods, during which they chatted while Donna continued to stand awkwardly in the bonds. Both carefully avoided talking about Patsy. Donna was glad that her mild suffering was making Pip regain some of her former zest for punishment.

Later in the afternoon Pip finally grew tired of lashing at a naked and bound girl with her rope whip. For Donna it was none too soon. Many parts of her body were stinging and burning from the attention of the clotheslines, And she was awfully tired of standing with wide spread legs.

But Pip wasn’t finished with her surprises. After untying Donna’s ankles and elbows, she made Donna sit down on a log and she bound Donna’s ankles together. Then she made the girl wiggle until she was lying on her stomach on the pine needle carpet. Donna was surprised that here and there a pine needle stuck into her like a sharp steel needle. But she had little time to ponder that some pine needles might stick upward to prick the unsuspecting female body. Pip was tying her ankles to her wrists in a classic hogtie. It certainly wasn’t the tightest hogtie that Donna had ever been in, but it would keep her from even crawling. She wondered if Pip planned to leave her lying on the forest floor all alone.

But leaving Donna alone and in strict bondage, a standard practice of the twins, was not her intent. Instead she shed her clothes to stand before Donna as naked as the bound slavegirl. Then she pulled on Donna’s shoulders until the hogtied girl was on her knees. Holding her captive with one hand, Pip sat down on the log, spread her legs wide around the helpless girl, and lowered Donna until her face was in Pip’s pubic patch. What came next required no words. Donna knew how to please another woman and went to work. Her surprise at being made to do this act when the twins had never before required this service of her was swallowed up in her efforts to bring this teenage girl to a climax. Those efforts were rewarded when Pip shuddered, cried a small gasp of ecstasy, and clutched Donna’s head hard against her sex.

With the usual resiliency of youth, Pip was soon back on her feet, clothed, and untying Donna’s ankles and the hogtie rope. Once Donna was back on her feet, the teenager re-attached the rope to her collar as a leash and hustled her along towards the house.

Donna swayed slowly in mid-air, agony showing in every line of her face.

“Mommy’s right,” chirped Pip brightly. “These beams are ever so useful for all kinds of bondage.”

Donna was hardly in the position to disagree. She, naked as always, was in a very uncomfortable position, basically a hogtie but with one important addition. She had been put on two bar stools on her stomach while Pip bound her ankles together then tied them up to her wrists in a fairly tight hogtie. But then the mischievous teenager tied a rope to that joining her hands and feet, and ran that up and over the beam. Then she tied it back between Donna’s hands and feet. After that it was an easy task to tilt and remove the bar stools from under the slavegirl. Her body sank until the rope took the slight slack and suspended her a couple feet off the floor. With her arms and legs pulled painfully tight behind her, she was quite helpless and in considerable discomfort. For a while Pip just watched the hanging nudity slowly swaying back and forth and twisting slightly. Then she went over and took one of Donna’s legs in her hand. Pulling gently, she was able to displace Donna four feet from vertical. Then she let go and watched in delight as the bound up package swung in a wide arc, bounced off the couch a couple times, and whined in agony.

“Pip,” Donna said, her voice laced with stress, “do you know that this is a very painful position? Very painful.” She carefully chose her words so that it didn’t really sound like a protest.

“Oh, yes, I know how it hurts. Patsy tied me like this sometimes. And I’ve tied her this way. Mommy doesn’t like it ’cause she says it’s too much strain. But we like it ’cause it makes you feel so very helpless. You do feel helpless, don’t you?”

“Very.”

“Good. I knew you’d like it.”

The youngster toyed with her hanging slavegirl, swinging her this way and that, grabbing a breast and holding on to stop the girl’s motion. Then she let loose and giggled as Donna bounced off the couch.

From elsewhere in the house came Jan’s voice, calling Pip.

“Got to go,” said Pip cheerfully as she headed towards the door.

“Wait,” cried Donna. “You’re not going to leave me like this! It’s terrible!”

“Well, if you don’t like it,” Pip said sweetly, just untie yourself. Bye!” Donna was left swinging in air a few feet off the floor and surprised at Pip’s treatment of her. “But, Pip,” she called after the teenager, “I’m heavier than you are. This hurts more than it does you! Pip???”

Donna whined and sighed at the same time. Her wrists hurt terribly and the strain on her shoulders and back was horrible. She groaned, hung her head and wanted to cry.

When Pip came back, Donna’s body was hanging totally limp and motionless in it’s bonds, the only sign of life being a moaning that came from the bowed head, a pathetic sound of pain. Pip casually placed a couple of cushions from the couch under Donna then cut the rope holding her to the beam. Donna fell a couple feet to land on the cushions on her stomach. Pip then untied the ropes from her ankles but left the wrists crossed and securely bound.

“When you feel, up to walking, come on into the kitchen. Dinner’s ready.”

Dinner was a little later than normal and it was dark outside as the three girls sat around a small table in the kitchen, eating. Donna’s hands had been freed and locked in front of her with handcuffs so she could eat. The food was good, as usual, but Jan seemed distracted and Donna was sure it was worry about Patsy that keep her from being the usual happy girl they all loved.

“Mommy,” Pip said. “It’s a nice night outside with a full moon. Could I take Donna into the woods and tie her to a tree?”

“I guess so, dear. I’ll stay in the house, in case Nigel calls.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll fix her up all real nice then come back and tell you so you can go see her.”

“Fine.”

Donna was led from the house after dinner, her hands crossed and bound behind her back, and completely naked save for her collar. Pip seemed to know right where she was going to take Donna for she didn’t hesitate. Soon they were in the small clearing with the trees all around it in a circle. Humming happily to herself, Pip untied Donna’s leash from her collar then used the rope to bind her ankles together. Pip looked carefully at the trees around her, picking which she wanted to use. She took Donna over to that tree and pushed her down to the ground. When Donna was sitting on her bottom, Pip pushed her back onto her bound arms and lifted her legs straight up. With an admonishment to keep her legs raised up, Pip tied a rope around her ankle bondage, tossed that rope over a branch, then tied the other end to her ankles again. In just two minutes Donna was in a simple but totally escape proof bondage, lying on her back with her legs bent at a right angle and straight up. Pip walked around her, examining the position from every angle.

Donna was suspicious. If this was all there was to Pip’s bondage of her, then something was wrong. This was the same teenage girl who had hung Donna in a suspended hogtie just an hour before. This tie was simple and not too uncomfortable. The pine needles under her back fortunately didn’t stick into her and the stress on her ankles was mild compared to some of the contorted and painful positions she had suffered at the hands of the twins. Pip seemed satisfied. For a while she just looked at Donna.

Finally she meekly asked, “We will get Patsy back, won’t we?”

Donna hastened to assure her, “We will. Don’t worry. We got you back, didn’t we? Nigel is good. He’ll get the job done.”

“He does seem to be a different person, doesn’t he?” Pip said. “He’s nicer towards me and seem to really like Mommy. Donna, he and Mommy are going to bed together, aren’t they?”

Donna considered lying because she didn’t know what Pip would think of the truth. Finally she said, “Nigel had sex with your mother before. Back when he had her and you two prisoners in your own house.”

“I know. But that was different. I think Mom is going to bed with him because she wants to.”

“Nigel Bransome is doing a lot for her. He even killed two men to get you back.”

“I know. She’s grateful... But is that all?”

This teenager was more perceptive than Donna had given her credit for. She had noticed the little things that Donna had also, those little things that clearly spoke of feelings Jan had towards this man. And, although Donna was sure that Nigel also felt strongly towards her mistress, she was more than a little uneasy about these new developments. She had hoped that after Patsy was retrieved, things would settle back to normal with Donna, Jan and the twins living happily by themselves. Donna being in the constant bondage as befits a slavegirl, of course. But now she was not sure what would eventually happen.

“Maybe not,” she finally answered truthfully. “I don’t know. I’ve never loved a man but apparently most woman can. But don’t worry, your mother loves you... and Patsy, very much.”

“I know that. And you. She loves you.” Pip knelt down beside Donna and leaned her head down until her mouth had covered one nipple. She began slowly teasing and licking and sucking. Donna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It felt so nice to have this girl she loved doing that to her. After a while Pip switched to the other breast. Then her hands began caressing Donna’s naked body, teasing it here and there, exciting nerve endings all-over. One hand slipped down and the slender fingers began teasing Donna’s pussy from the back side which was all that was exposed with her legs bent upwards as they were. But it was enough exposure to make sure that Pip’s fingers could find her slit and slide into the moist tunnel. Donna groaned with pleasure and slowly arched her chest up. Those fingers felt so good. Donna was reminded of something Jan had told her:

“Only a woman knows how to really please another woman.”

The fingers increased their penetration and pumping motion, and quickly Donna was clenching her legs together and humping her hips to match the wonderful motion of those little fingers within her sex. Then, just as a climax seemed immediate, Pip withdrew and stood back. Donna moaned and jerked her shoulders a couple of times in frustration at the way she was so helpless. “Please...?” she begged.

But Pip did not return. “Old Chinese torture: get girl excited, then walk away,” she told Donna cheerfully. “Patsy and I do it to each other all the time. “We call it a form of torture. But it’s such delicious torture, isn’t it?”

Donna didn’t answer, the frustration she was feeling at being denied so close to an orgasm was keeping her from being civil. But inwardly she had to agree. It was a delicious form of torture.

Pip bid Donna a good night and walked away.

“Goodnight?” muttered Donna. “Goodnight! Hey, you aren’t going to leave me here all night? This is a forest, for goodness sake! What about the animals?”

Donna was alone. She stopped her useless conversation and settled back into the pine needles. She was still very frustrated and tried for a while to reach her pussy with her own hands. She could twist to one side and get her hands half way around her side but the fingers remained agonizingly far from the seat of her heated loins. Finally she let herself fall back in disgust and shook all-over in anger. But she wasn’t really mad at Pip. This was just Pip’s way of playing with her slavegirl toy. And it wasn’t really that bad. Not really. Just frustrating as hell.

Thin shafts of moonlight speared down through the pine branches to make little pools of silvery light on the forest floor. There were tiny sounds of night insects, the occasional distant hiss of a car traveling the paved road, and from someplace down the mountain the faint strain of music, so faint that Donna couldn’t tell what the song was. She found that when she grew tired of lying on her bound hands, she could roll to one side half way and let her hands have some freedom. But for the most part it was the usual slow passage of time in relative boredom. She listened carefully to the faint sounds around her and took a small measure of delight when she could pick out some distant bit of music or a car starting. Nigel’s house was pretty far up the mountain with only raw forest behind it, but less than a quarter of a mile from the nearest other houses.

Donna had spent the entire night tied in the small forest that was part of Jan’s garden. But this was different. This was the big forest, untamed and wild compared to Jan’s backyard. Just about the time Donna was getting nervous about why this place was named Big Bear Lake and the imagined possibilities of real bears prowling around at night, she heard footsteps, But it didn’t sound like what a bear’s footsteps should, or at least Donna thought, and she was proven correct when Jan walked into the clearing.

“Pip said I would find you here.”

“Did she also say that she worked me up to where I was really super horny and ready to climax then walked away?”

“Sounds like Pip,” was Jan’s calm reply. “She asked if she could leave you here all night. She said that the bondage wasn’t bad and you’d be comfortable.”

“The bondage is terrible and I’m uncomfortable,” protested Donna mildly.

“I guess you could sleep on that bed of pine needles.”

“Your bed would be nicer,” Donna said sweetly. “You could hogtie me and then pull me up between your legs until my mouth was right on your pussy, I could lick you into a frenzy...?”

Jan was tempted, Donna could see that much on her face in the moonlight. “You make that sound so nice,” she finally admitted. “But Pip really wants to leave you out in the forest all alone and I think that would be a nice change for you from my bed,”

Donna sighed. Well, she told herself, I’ve endured worse. “But,” Jan said. Donna’s ears instantly picked up. “But there’s no reason why you can’t provide that service right here.” Jan pulled off her blouse and tugged down the skirt. Underneath she was naked as was her custom so it didn’t take but a couple seconds before she was ready to have her slavegirl service her.

Jan squatted over Donna’s fate, lowering her sex until it was almost touching Donna’s nose. With a sigh Donna lifted her head and began licking, slowly at first to start the build up gently. She was an expert at this and knew very well what turned Jan on the best. After a few minutes Jan switched to a kneeling position straddling Donna’s head and facing her legs. She was beginning to moan with pleasure when she grabbed one of Donna’s large breasts in each hand and clamped her sharp fingernails onto the soft flesh. As her breathing became harder and harder, Jan’s fingernails dug deeper and deeper into the tender flesh. When she finally gasped aloud and stiffened, her fingernails were deep into the flesh. When Jan threw herself to the side to grab her pussy and roll around on the pine needle carpet, there were tiny red marks where blood was drawn on Donna’s breasts.

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 slavegirl: 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.