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“Tie her!” ordered Isabel.
Marta and Ilana grabbed Toni’s arms again, pulling them from her body, so that she was mortified to find herself uncovered before the three women. Then she realised they had pulled lengths of strong nylon rope from their pockets and were tying her hands. Toni struggled with all her might, but she was no match for the two older women who, having tied the rope tightly about her wrists, slung the ends over a pair of sturdy water pipes that ran across the ceiling, yanking down hard so that Toni’s arms were pulled apart and upwards, until she was almost on tiptoe.

But worse was to come. No sooner had they secured her arms than they began to fasten more rope to her ankles. These too they stretched apart and fastened to the heaviest of the armchairs. Once these were secure they stood back to admire their handiwork.
Toni was stretched into an X shape, her arms and legs pulled wide apart. A mirror fixed to the wall in front of her reflected her helpless body, and she groaned with embarrassment as she saw how blatantly the position displayed her breasts and sex to her three captors.

‘Would I be tied up?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What would I be whipped with?’
‘A horsewhip. Or a cane. Listen, Toni does the idea really turn you on?’
‘I think it does.’ Toni had no idea why it should be, but her mind was suddenly filled with the image of herself chained naked to the wall whilst her backside was whipped, and the thrill it gave her was totally unexpected.
‘Tomorrow, then,’ said Alex. ‘We’ll do it tomorrow.’
‘Hang on, Alex. I’m not sure.’
‘I am.’

She barely had time to consider her plight, though, as her two attendants dropped to their knees and undid the shackles at her ankles, then turned her round to face away from the audience. The new position gave Toni some scant comfort as her breasts and belly were turned from the men’s hungry eyes, but she knew that they would be scanning her backside with equal interest, and she thought of the stripes so recently laid across it by the woman that morning. She wasn’t sure if she could take another beating so soon after that one, but it was clear she would have little choice.

Suddenly she realised that the two young women were at work again, each taking hold of one of her ankles and pulling them wide apart before clamping yet another shackle about each. She glanced down to see that these irons were attached to the floor at about the same distance apart as those on her wrists. She was trapped now, her arms and legs pulled wide, her body describing a large X shape as she hung in her chains, her feet barely touching the ground.
(more…)

The full realization finally sank home to
her as Victoria and her two servants sat in easy
chairs and admired the view which she presented
them. Naked, spread open, bound by thumbs and
toes, painful clothespins on nipples and sex lips, a
woman’s damp panty in her mouth. A slave!

They found out when they were called to the employers’ bedroom at ten. Victoria was chained by her wrists to the bed and wore a blindfold.
The girls were stunned at Victoria’s punisment decision. They had expected some sort of physical administration. Victoria was fantastic! The punishment was going to be far worse than any whip or rope discomfort.

The whipping had to be received, so why not
at least know that your two friends would enjoy it.
If one loved her sister maids like she should, then
she hoped her punishment would turn them on.
The whipping would then be well worth it. It was,
in fact, honest love between girls. Stacy had gotten
her pants wet watching Trish whipped, so fair is
fair. Wet your pants, Trish, thought Stacy.
The first lash is always such a surprise. The
terrific sound always seems like it is somewhere
else. Then a girl feels that awful burning on her
bottom, and she knows that the sound was her own
flesh.

She released the two from their chains and
stocks, and joined her husband for a martini. It
was always interesting to notice the different reac-
tion of recipients after a punishment. Laura, the
older, simply lay on her back on the floor, her
hands over her eyes, hoping that time would lessen
the burning in her feet. Sylvia spat out her wet
gag, went to all fours, and shook her hair back and
forth in hurt. Both knew that they would not stand
up again this evening.

The blows were alternated between the woman
and the girl and their suffering was evident. The
panty gags permitted only muffled noises, but
their faces were flushed in hurt, their eyes met.
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The low floor stocks were built for two females’
feet, as they lay on their backs on the carpet. The
protruding feet were at Mistress’ waist level.
Mistress chose, from a wall rack, a split-bamboo
length, before fastening the women’s arms to
heavy floor rings. The split bamboo made an odd
noise as it traveled through the air and struck the
soles of Laura’s feet. Her body jerked nicely.
Sylvia followed, and squirmed vigorously from the
agony.

“If this is a joke I don’t think it’s funny. Take these things off me, Mistress, they’re hurting my wrists”…
“It’s no joke, dear, I’m going to finish the job with this whip now, babe…”

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