Twelve Days a Slave 7: Water Punishments

by The Technician

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© Copyright 2016 - The Technician - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+/fm+; cell; cage; cuffs; collar; display; naked; public; hum; stage; slaves; punish; bdsm; water; electro; wheel; dunking; hot; cold; torment; climax; cons/reluct; XX

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Slave missy endures a variety of water punishments.

This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery.

After the woman is convicted, a “sentence negotiator” gets her sentence reduced to a public day of repentance followed by eleven days of public punishment. Following that, she is to serve one year of penal servitude.

This story deals with non-consensual punishment, pain, and involuntary slavery. If such topics offend you or upset you, I would advise skipping this particular book.

There are thirteen chapters to this story. The chapters can be read on their own, but the story is much better understood if the previous portions have been read. The complete story is full book length. I debated publishing it with some of my other books at Fiction4all, but decided that I would rather serialize it and post it here.

In this chapter, slave missy is punished by water combined with heat, cold and electricity. This chapter focuses on various types of water punishment.

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Chapter Seven - Slave missy takes the plunge into water punishments.

Once again the smell of coffee was in the early morning air in the large RV, but what woke Missy was William once again gently rubbing the salve on her back, legs, and ass.

“Mmmmm,” she said softly. “You can wake me up like that any morning.”

“Your back is almost totally clear,” he said. “So are your legs.”

“And my butt?” she asked.

“That might take a little longer,” he said, “but it will have a day to heal.”

Missy pushed herself up and said hopefully, “Then I don’t get punished today?”

“No,” William said softly... but firmly, “you don’t get spanked, caned, paddled or flogged today. But you still get punished.”

“What kind of punishment?” she asked. Her voice was no longer hopeful.

“I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise,” William said with a laugh. He then patted her very lightly on her ass and said, “Come out to the kitchen after you get ready.” He left, but turned back as he reached the door and said, “And make sure you remember your towel. You are a bit greasy this morning.”

Missy used the bathroom and brushed her teeth. “There really isn’t much to getting ready anymore,” she said to herself. “Unless Master lets me paint my nails.” She held her fingers up to look at her nails. “What color goes good with naked?” she said aloud.

“Did you ask something?” William called from the kitchen.

“Just thinking aloud,” she replied as she came through the door with her towel.

After she had finished about half of her breakfast, she asked, “So, what’s on the program for today?” She hoped that the casual sound of her voice would trick William into answering.

“Well,” he replied in an equally casual voice, “the warm up is a Ferris wheel and the main event is a carousel.”

He then shoveled an egg into his mouth and looked down at his plate. Missy could see that he was chuckling silently.

“I get it,” she said, allowing the exasperation to show in her voice. “I will find out when I find out.”

“Yes, you will,” he replied. “But now it is time to get moving so we can get you oiled up and take our publicity lap through town. I’ve had a special request to drive past your old place of employment. The CEO wants a picture of you in your cage in front of the store.”

“He would!” she huffed angrily, remembering her rejection and humiliation outside the windows of the fourteenth floor executive conference room.

“And he can afford to pay for it,” William said softly. “I charged him two weeks of equivalent time. We are within a couple of months of bringing your sentence down to the court mandated one-year minimum.”

Missy looked back up at him and said, “Oh... thank you... I guess.” She sighed deeply and continued, “You really have been looking out for me. Without you I’d be in the hot sun picking bugs off some crop somewhere. So, thank you.”

She paused and then asked, “Why are you doing all this for me?”

William looked into her eyes and said softly, “It could be that 20% of twelve million dollars is two point four million.” He paused and then said a little louder, “Or it could be that I saw something special in you that day in court.”

He then stood up, clapped his hands smartly, and said, “Just put the dishes in the sink. We’re running late and need to get moving.”

Missy suspected that they were not really behind schedule, but this was William’s way of closing off the conversation.

***

When they arrived at the center of town, William made two laps around the square rather than one. He looked at his watch several times as he made the second, very slow, lap. Then he headed down the same path she had taken on her day of repentance. The CEO and board of directors were awaiting them when they arrived. William pulled the ATV into the parking places which were reserved in front of the store and then walked across the street to talk to the photographer. Two men dressed like the stage hands from the fairgrounds ran back across the street carrying what looked like two pieces of pvc pipe wrapped together is some fashion. One stood to one side of the gathered big shots and the other slowly pulled the other piece of pipe to the other side, unrolling a huge banner.

On one end of the banner was Vicki LeClaire’s employment picture from the company website. On the other end was a picture of slave missy walking slowly behind the horse-drawn caisson on her Day of Repentance. Between the two images were the words, “A Terrorist Repents.”

Missy was able to disregard the laughter and looks of derision from the CEO and board members, but the reminder of what she once was caused her to burst into tears. When she did, the group cheered and applauded. She was sure that was the picture that would hang in the board room or the CEO’s office.

William came back to the ATV and started toward the fairgrounds. Missy stood in the cage, holding on to the bars and crying. She was still crying as the cage was raised into the air above the stage.

***

Much of the equipment for the day was already in place. There were five tall, clear plastic tanks on the track in front of the stage that were probably set in place overnight. Over in front of the side stage, a much larger, but much more shallow tank was also set up.

All six tanks were filled with water. Above the shallow tank was a strange-looking wheel that did, in fact, look like a Ferris wheel with no seats. Alongside the main stage, a tall construction crane had been erected with a long arm that extended over the stage.

Missy looked around for the carousel William had spoken of and decided that he must have been referring to the crane.

She then leaned back to wait for two o’clock. Today she didn’t feel like pleasuring herself or withdrawing into her dream world, so she just waited and watched as technicians connected pumps and other equipment to each of the tanks.

***

To her surprise, missy fell asleep braced against the rear bars of her cage. Mister Wilson’s voice loudly crying out his standard welcome brought her suddenly awake.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “Today is sponsored by Kareem’s Custom Devices, the world’s greatest specialist in water-related punishment.”

An Arab gentlemen joined William on stage. At least missy assumed he was an Arab since he was wearing a robe with a white headpiece that had a colored band of some sort holding it in place..

“I introduce to you,” William continued, “Kareem Samara, president and chief designer for Kareem’s Custom Devices.”

“Thank you,” said the man in the robes. His voice was very deep and forceful. As he turned toward the audience, missy could see that his facial hair was very well trimmed. She was somewhat startled that there was no trace of accent in his voice.

“When I came to this country to study engineering many years ago,” he began, “I was fascinated with the abundance of water in this land.” He gestured toward the tanks in front of the stage. “Originally, I was intending to found a company for locating, storing and transporting water. But then I found an even more compelling market for water– water punishment devices.”

Pointing over to the shallow tank, he continued, “One of our most popular devices is the water wheel, which can be used for pain or pleasure or both.”

He paused as eight security people, walking in pairs, came out onto the stage. Between the first two pairs stood naked slaves, one male and one female. There was a naked man and woman standing between the last pair of security people, but they did not seem to be slaves. For one thing they still had their hair and, for another, there were no brands visible on their bodies.

Addressing the guards, he said, “Let’s get our slaves and our volunteers in place.”

The guards and the naked men and women walked over to the shallow tank and stood patiently waiting. The hum of motors and the swish of hydraulics accompanied the movement of the large wheel as it rose upward and then pivoted over forward in front of the tank so that it was only a few feet off the ground.

There was a small platform in front of the wheel and the guards led the female slave up the steps and turned her so that her back was against the wheel. One of the guards went up with her and stepped up onto a small, higher platform.

“Up!” he commanded, and the slave raised her hands above her head. He grabbed them firmly and pulled upward so that she was standing on her tip toes as he strapped her wrists to the wheel.

He stepped back slightly and yelled, “Clear!”

The wheel rotated, pulling the slave off her feet. When her waist was even with the guard, he pulled a belt across her abdomen and pulled it tight to hold her firmly to the wheel.

The wheel once again moved. This time, when it stopped, her feet were even with the guard’s hands. He then used leather restraints and straps to secure her ankles to the wheel.
 
Stepping back slightly, he yelled “Next!” and the wheel rotated so that the slave’s hands were at the top of the wheel. The naked man who still had his hair next stepped up onto the platform and turned to place his back against the wheel.

His hands were quickly cuffed tightly to the wheel and the guard yelled, “Clear!” The wheel rotated so that the wide restraint belt could be placed across his abdomen. The wheel rotated again and his feet were restrained against the wheel.

The guard yelled “Next” as the wheel moved once more. The naked woman with hair stepped up and was soon bound to the wheel.

When the wheel was rotated so that the male slave’s hands could be bound to the wheel, the female slave was hanging beneath the wheel. As his feet were bound to the wheel, her hands had rotated again to the front.

The guard stepped down from his perch and the wheel began to rotate slowly, displaying the female slave, and then the non-slave man, followed by the non-slave woman, and finally the male slave. It then pivoted back so it was directly over the shallow pond about three feet over the surface of the water.

“The water,” Kareen said in his basso profundo voice, “is electrified.”

There was a gasp throughout the crowd. “But do not worry,” he said, almost chuckling. “The current is heavily limited as it would be in an e-STIM device.” He paused for a moment and added, “And right now, the pulses are set for a very pleasant pulse speed, duration, and intensity.”

He gestured toward the tank and said, “I draw your attention to the row of lights on the front of the tank.”

There was a triple strip of green LEDs that lit sequentially upward each time the electricity pulsed through the tank. It looked very much like a volume indicator on an amplifier.

Kareem now became silent and the wheel began to lower itself toward the water. Each time the female slave rotated under the wheel, she was just a bit closer to the water.

The crowd waited quietly, and on the sixth slow revolution of the wheel, the slave’s nipples grazed the water. She gasped loudly, but did not scream. She was reacting more in surprise than in pain.
The wheel continued to rotate. Nothing else touched the water until the female slave again rotated under. This time, about half of her breasts went into the water. As she continued to rotate, her toes also skimmed the water.

When the man behind her on the wheel rotated through, the first thing which touched was his dangling penis. He responded with a loud, “Ahhhh!” and struggled sightly within his restraints. Again, his response was more surprise than pain. He gasped slightly, but said nothing as his toes went into the water.

The female following him was much less endowed than the female slave, but on this rotation, her breasts... and then her toes skimmed through the water.

The wheel continued its slow descent, as the male slave rotated under, it was close enough that his nose touched the surface of the water. He stiffened, but otherwise did not respond and was apparently ready for it when his package skimmed the water.

The female slave followed him. This rotation, the water touched her face. She closed her eyes and gave a soft murmuring groan as her entire body dipped slightly into the water.

The wheel seemed to stop descending at that point because the others seemed to go no deeper into the water. It did, however, begin to spin slightly faster. The faces of the four slaves rotated quickly past the view of the crowd.

As each came up out of the water, he or she moaned softly. The moan– apparently a moan of pleasure– continued until their feet were rotated clear of the water. Both men were now sporting significant erections.

The wheel rotated another dozen or so times. All four naked bodies were now bucking and twisting in their restraints. Kareem’s voice could again be heard. “I think it is obvious,” he said, “that this device can give pleasure. I am sure our slaves and our volunteers would appreciate it if I let them rotate until orgasm. But...” He paused for effect. “the purpose of our demonstration is to show that the wheel can also be used for punishment.”

He laughed a deep, deep laugh. “Or at least,” he continued, “the wheel can inflict pain. Whether that is punishment or reward depends on the nature of the slave... or volunteer... who is strapped to the wheel.”

The huge, Ferris-wheel like device rose once again into the air above the shallow tank. After rotating in place for a full rotation or two, it began to descend once again toward the electrified water. Its descent, if anything, was slower than it had been before, but the rotation was at the same steady pace.

“The pulses are no longer pleasurable,” Kareem said. “Their intensity, duration, and speed of the pulses has all been changed to that which will inflict the most pain.” He looked out across the crowd and added, “But keep in mind, that although they are painful, they are not harmful.”
Missy, watching and listening from her perspective high above everything suddenly stood upright in her cage. “Painful but not harmful,” she said aloud. Then silently to herself, she added, “He is reassuring the volunteers that they are safe. They must be able to get pleasure from those painful pulses.”

She looked down at the tank. The LED strip was now rising higher on the side of the tank with each pulse. As it rose, the color of the LEDs changed from green to yellow and then to red. The meter seemed to stay in the red for a long time before dropping back to yellow and then green and then off.

She continued to watch the wheel. It was obvious that on this rotation, the female slave’s nipples would skim the surface of the water. When they did, a loud scream echoed throughout the arena and the crowd responded with cheers and applause.

The wheel– and the crowd– was then silent. The crowd and the naked men and women on the wheel knew that nothing would touch the water until the slave again rotated under the wheel. The two men and the other woman were very tense within their restraints, but were motionless. The female slave, on the other hand, was struggling heavily– and uselessly– against her bonds.

She rotated once more under the wheel. Her scream as her breasts entered the water was a gurgling “Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” that lasted until her breasts cleared the water as she rotated through. Unfortunately for her, her feet touched the water almost immediately afterwards. A slightly less intense “Aieeeeeee!” echoed through the fairgrounds.

The male who followed the female slave was not struggling. If anything, he was relaxing himself. His prick, still fully erect from the previous pleasure pulses, cut into the water. “Ahhhhh!” he called out in pain as his penis dragged through the water. He was still grunting in pain when his toes touched the electrified pulses.

The female following him into the water also seemed to be trying to relax, but when her nipples touched the water she screamed loudly and continued screaming until she had rotated up once again out of the water.

The male slave was screaming in fear before he even made contact with the water. His erection was long gone and his prick was shriveled up in fear, but it was still the first thing to touch the water. Despite having been ordered not to speak, he screamed out “Oh God! Oh God! I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take the full flogging!”

His words were met with laughter from the crowd. Kareem stood impassively, not even acknowledging them.

The female slave then rotated back into the water. The wheel was low enough that her face touched the water first. She thrashed violently in her bonds, but did not call out until her mouth had cleared the surface of the water.

The male who followed her did not call out at all except to give a soft moan once his upper body had rotated through the pulsing water.

The woman who followed him did not scream this time. Instead she said softly, “Yes, yes, yes...” as she rotated out of the water.

The male slave again was screaming before he touched the water. He continued to scream even as his face went under the water. The wheel seemed to speed up slightly while he was under and continued at its slightly faster pace after he had rotated out.

The female slave began screaming as soon as her hands touched the water and continued to scream until her feet rotated clear of the water.

The male appeared to take a deep breath and relax as his hands entered the water.  His body shook with the pulses, but he said nothing, even after he rotated up out of the water.

The female also appeared to take a very deep breath and relax as her hands first touched the water. She also did not scream or cry out, but did give a long, “Yeeesssssss” as she let out her breath on the other side of the water.

As the male slave was going through the water, Kareem spoke, “The wheel will make two more revolutions,” he said. “I am sure that is sufficient punishment for the slaves.” He paused and then made an odd gesture with his hands before saying, “We will see if that is sufficient for our volunteers.”

The audience watched more or less quietly as the wheel made its revolutions. They burst into applause and laughter, however, when the non-slave male climaxed and spurted just as his prick came up out of the water on the final turn of the wheel.

As soon as the man behind him cleared the water, the wheel began moving up. Now the volunteer woman began screaming, “No! No! NO! I was so close. I was so close. I was so close.”

“Sometimes the punishment begins when the pain ends,” Kareem said with a laugh. He then added, “We will let the crew remove them from the wheel while I explain to you what is going to happen to our hapless terrorist.”

He walked to the front of the stage and pointed down at the five tall, clear plastic tanks which sat on the track just in front of the seats. “This first tank,” he began is filled with water at 100 degrees Fahrenheit... that is approximately 38 degrees centigrade. Most people would consider that the ideal temperature for a warm bath.”

He turned his attention to the next tank, “This tank,” he continued, “is filled with water at 125 degrees Fahrenheit... that is exactly 51.67 degrees centigrade.” He held up his hand with his index finger extended. “That number must be exact,” he said, “because it is at the edge of what would instantly scald the flesh. In fact, if you were to remain in that water for more than a minute or so, your flesh would burn.”

Pointing to the third tank he explained, “And this tank is filled with water at 38 degrees Fahrenheit... approximately 3 degrees centigrade.” He chuckled and looked up at the crowd. “That will NOT burn you,” he said, “but within five minutes in water that cold, you would experience hypothermia.”

Gesturing at the fourth and fifth tanks he said, “The last two tanks are self-explanatory.”

A soft murmuring swept though the crowd as those who had noticed the LEDs flashing on the front of those tanks pointed it out to those who had not.

“Normally,” Kareen explained, “these tanks are set up in a circle with a carousel-like mechanism above it. Up to five slaves– or others– are suspended above the tanks. At random intervals, they are plunged downward into the water until the weights tied to their ankles touch the floor of the tank. Then they are pulled back up into the air and the carousel mechanism rotates.”

Pointing up at the sky and moving his finger in a wide circle as he spoke, he said, “The beauty of that arrangement is that there is no way to know whether you are going into a bath... or a steaming kettle... or a freezing lake... or a pleasant tingle... or an extreme shock. There is no way to prepare yourself what is to occur.”

He shrugged his shoulders slightly and continued, “Unfortunately, there is not sufficient room here today to set up my marvelous Carousel of Pain. The same effect, however, can be obtained with this special production crane. It has been programmed in much the same fashion as my Carousel and will dunk our terrified little terrorist forty-six times into the tanks. Which tank, she will not know until it is too late.”

William had walked up onto the stage alongside him and gave a signal for missy’s cage to be lowered. He personally opened the huge padlock on the door of the cage and personally removed her chains. Then holding his hands on her shoulders he said softly to her, “You can do this. It is going to hurt... a lot. You may or may not be able to block that pain, but you can endure it. You are safe. You will not be harmed.” He paused and said, “And it won’t damage your skin in any way. Five minutes after its done there will be no evidence anything occurred.”

Missy didn’t appear to be very reassured. She stood wide-eyed, trembling in fear, as he slowly guided her over to the guards who were waiting beneath the cable which extended down from the crane.

There was a trapeze-like bar on the end of the cable which had wide leather strips attached to it. “Grab the bar,” the guard said firmly.

Missy did so and her hands were lashed to the bar so that she could not intentionally– or accidently– let go.

The cable moved upward very slightly and missy was stretched up onto her toes. Two of the stage crew carried out a three foot long metal bar with chains attached to it. It clanged loudly when they dropped it to the stage at her feet.

“This bar will insure that you remain straight and that you drop quickly through the water,” the guard explained as they attached restraints to her ankles. The restraints were very large and almost resembled work boots by the time they were totally in place.

Once another guard inspected all restraints and declared them good, he wrapped a black, silk, blindfold around missy’s eyes and tied it tightly behind her head. Then the crane rapidly drew her upward. She was higher than she had been standing in her cage, but she had no way of knowing that.

Every eye was staring at her in expectation as the crane moved her back and forth several times. The flat portion of the crane was long enough that it could move her many feet past the first tank or the last tank, so she soon had no idea over which tank she might be hanging. Then she dropped into the water.

Her body instantly tightened from the freezing water. With the heavy weight secured to her feet, she dropped rapidly through the water until the weight hit with a loud “thunk” on a metal plate which protected the base of the tank.

No sooner had the weight touched the bottom than she was rocketed back up into the air. She gasped for breath as her head broke the surface of the water. It was over too fast for her to even scream. Then she was moving rapidly to her right, and then back to her left.

Once more she began to drop. Her body wanted to brace itself for another icy plunge, but instead extreme heat assailed her senses. This time she did scream as her head returned above the surface of the water. The near-scalding heat of the water would probably not have engendered such a violent scream, but the change from nearly freezing to nearly scalding was almost too much for her senses.

She thrashed wildly as the crane once again moved her back and forth over the tanks. When she dropped this time, she began screaming as soon as she started down. Her scream continued as she entered the water, even though this was the bathwater temperature tank.

She seemed somewhat relaxed as she emerged from the tank.  Her body was no longer thrashing as she was shuffled back and forth over the tanks to confuse her. This time, she remained silent as she fell into the water. She stiffened slightly as the electrical pulses easily penetrated her wet skin. But these were the mild, pleasurable pulses that only tingled slightly and would have felt good under different circumstances.

Once more she was above the tanks. “They are giving me a sample of each of the tanks,” she thought to herself. That means the next tank is...”

“Aiiiiiieeeeeeeeeee.” the drop into the tank with the strong, painful, electrical pulses, confirmed her fears. She screamed all the while her body was entering the water and continued to scream under the water as the weight dropped to the bottom of the tank.

Fortunately, or perhaps by design, she was yanked out of the water before she ran out of breath. “Go into the pain. Go into the pain. Go into the pain.” she kept telling herself. But how can you go into a pain when you don’t know what it is going to be.

She plunged once again into the hot water. Within her mind, she was now telling herself, “Hurt without harm... hurt without harm... hurt without harm...” The pain of the near-scalding water seemed much less this time. Missy wasn’t sure whether it was her mantra which she was repeating constantly in her head or the fact that she had not just come from the freezing water, but the pain was definitely less.

Another plunge, this time into the near-freezing water. The mantra in her head was getting faster. “Hurt without harm... hurt without harm... hurt without harm... hurt without harm... hurt without harm... hurt without harm...” She may have even said it aloud as the crane shuffled her through the air preparing to drop her into the next random tank.

As the electrical pulses tore through her feet and then her legs, she said loudly, “Hurt without harm... hurt without harm...” The litany switched back to being only inside her head as her face went under the water.

When she emerged from the water, she took a deep breath. The severe elecro-shocks had hurt much less than before. She began to block out everything except her own voice within her repeating, “Hurt without harm... hurt without harm... hurt without harm.”

Her body never fully relaxed, and the sensations never became pleasurable, but with the constant mantra declaring to herself that her body would not be harmed, she was able to endure whatever torment the tank inflicted upon her.

Finally, after she was pulled out of the bathwater tank, the crane began to rotate slightly. She felt herself being lowered, but she was over the stage, not the tanks. It was over!

Two of the stage hands– or perhaps they were security people– removed the weight from her ankles and unwrapped her hands from around the bar above her. William was also there. He handed her a fluffy towel and said, “Dry yourself off. Then we will get your chains back on and put you back up in the cage for an hour.”

Out of habit, Missy reached up with the towel to dry her hair. It closed around nothing above her head. “That’s right,” she said aloud, “I’m not Vicki anymore. I’m slave missy. I don’t have any hair.” She looked down at her hairless body and added, “... anywhere.”

After her collar, manacles, and shackles were in place, William locked her in her cage and signaled the stage crew to draw her up to her place of display. As she looked down at the crowds, however, she noticed that most of them were ignoring her. They were much more interested in seeing the workings of the machine that had tormented her.

She leaned back against the bars of her cage and relaxed her body, thankful that her ordeal for the day was ended. As she gazed down at the people who were crowded around the tanks, she said aloud softly, “Upstaged by a crane.” She then closed her eyes and began slowly stroking her slit. She wasn’t seeking an orgasm, she just wanted some sensations with which to replace the memory of the terror in the tanks.

She ended up staying on display for significantly more than the usual hour. It was closer to two hours later when William announced loudly, “I’m sorry, folks, but the stage crew is going have to start disassembling the crane, and for your safety, we are going have to ask you to leave the fairgrounds.”

Twenty minutes later, the crowd was finally gone and William was transporting missy back to the RV. After he had pulled into the large trailer and closed the rear ramp, he released missy from the cage and her chains.

“I thought they would stay forever,” he said. He sounded very frustrated. “Kareem’s people aren’t actually going to work on the crane until just before dark tonight, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get them to leave.”

Then they walked from the trailer to the entrance of the RV. After William had opened the door with his remote, he turned to missy and turned his finger in a circle. Dutifully, she turned slowly around so he could examine her body.

“No new bruises,” he said. “With some ointment before you go to sleep tonight, the old bruises should be totally faded away by tomorrow.”

“They’ll be back by tomorrow night,” she said dejectedly.

“Yes, they will,” answered William, “but tomorrow is tomorrow. There are no more punishments in today.”

He motioned for her to enter the RV. She knew that he carefully watched her ass as she climbed the steps in front of him. That thought caused a slight tingle between her legs as she scampered into the kitchen.

“I don’t think you should need to clean yourself up,” William said. “But you might need to use the bathroom.” As missy was heading down the hallway, he called to her, “I’m thinking of ordering a pizza tonight. Anything you won’t eat?”

“Pineapples and spinach,” missy yelled back. “Other than that, almost anything goes when it comes to pizza.”

“Then one special, deep dish deluxe,” he replied. “It should be here in about a half hour.”

Missy used the time to relax on her bed, thankful that she no longer had to lie on her stomach. When the pizza arrived, William gave her the money to pay the delivery person and told her to take care of it.

When she stepped out of the bus to take the pizza from the delivery boy’s hands, he nearly dropped it as he rapidly looked up and down her naked body. “Is this a joke?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Read the side of the bus,” she said as she took the pizza and handed him the money. “Keep the change,” she said as she turned and went back up into the bus. She could see him still staring up the steps as the door hissed closed.

While they were eating, William asked, “What did you think of Kareem’s devices?”

“I hated them,” missy replied. “It wasn’t that the pain was so bad, but I couldn’t prepare for it in any way. The best I could do was make it hurt a little less.”

She looked over at him and begged, “Please, Master, don’t make me do that again.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” William answered. “Even if he gave me one of the machines like the others did, it would be too big and way too difficult for me to set up. No way we could take it on tour with us.”

“Do you mean the others gave you their machines?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t say they gave them to me,” William replied, “but yes, both of the automated versions of James Madison’s Programable Punishment Platforms are packed in the trailer as well as various whips, paddles, stocks, pillories, and a couple very interesting machines you don’t know about yet. And as long as I give a plug for their companies and mention their websites, I have permission to use those machines as often as I desire.”

“What about what I desire?” missy pouted.

“That’s why they call it punishment,” William said with a laugh. “I don’t have to take requests.” He then went back to eating his pizza.

After supper missy and William watched TV until bedtime. Once again he slathered the ointment across her back, legs, and ass. This time he skipped the crease between her buttocks and the base of her slit. Patting her very lightly on the ass, he said, “Stay on your stomach until this stuff has a chance to absorb into your skin.”

A few moments later, she heard the clang of the security door closing in the hallway.

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END CHAPTER SEVEN OF THIRTEEN

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Published eBooks by Wayne Mitchell (The Technician}
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I, Masochist https://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=8263
UMPA Eleven https://www.a1adultebooks.com/book.htm?pr=10952

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