In the Grass

by Zephyr

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© Copyright 2022 - Zephyr - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; roleplay; sex; ballgag; collar; cuffs; rope; spreader; bond; crop; outdoors; caught; denial; rough; strip; susp; torment; whip; cons; rom; XX

Continues from

A long three-part post that finishes the story of Gina and Carlos. For more of Gina in an alternate story line read “By Invitation”.

Part 7a

Gina found to her surprise that she had enjoyed him being rough with her on their previous visit. Not the pain and certainly not the public nudity but him being forceful with her was a huge turn-on for her. She decided she wanted more.

She talked with him on that over the timed-expiration chat app they had recently adopted. They didn’t do it frequently but Gina could chat with him up until about an hour before he left work since by the time he got home it was all gone.

They had agreed on the theme for the next visit: He would try to break her. It was understood he could be doing things that hurt; that was the point. She trusted him not to do anything to her that kept her out of class Monday morning. She might be hurting or sore in a few places, Carlos warned, but he’d do nothing that would keep her out of her seats. He also said he knew from before that he had little interest in whipping her. It might happen a little, no promises, it was kind of par for the course with that theme, but not much if any. That was fine with Gina.

He had to double back on that later. While he had some interesting thoughts there were two basic ways to try to force someone in their scenario: stress positions and pain. He wasn’t into it but sure, he could do it if he was convinced that she was ok with it and wanted it. But to do this meant it would be long-term over the weekend and continuous. It’d more or less be a kidnapping. She could expect to be in one sort of controlled position or another the whole time. And he’d likely need to whip her for real at some point or points, causing pain and leaving marks. He worried about putting her too far out of commission for her classes. He could promise nothing would show in a t-shirt and jeans but he couldn’t promise at all that they wouldn’t hurt to wear. She’d had such a bad experience being whipped before; was she sure she wanted to do this? They could always pick another theme.

She texted him back two days later after firmly thinking it through. She thanked him for his concern but she still wanted to proceed. Ok, the stress positions and the whippings would hurt. Of course. But there were a few differences between this and what she had gone through with Scott. First off, this was a game that she could end at any time. Just imagining what might happen to her was an enormous turn-on to her (and no, she wasn’t about to make any suggestions), but she wanted to see how much she could take. She was determined to surprise both of them, but she wasn’t about to destroy herself in silence. The second thing, especially on the whippings and etcetera, if it were really that bad she could miss classes on Monday. She knew that if Carlos set out to do it then it would be real, but she also knew he loved her and was doing it as part of a game. If Carlos were doing things to her and whipping her in anger, that was terrifying. If he did it, even for real, as part of a game she had found she was ok with that. It was just a game. Especially when it was one she could end at any time with a single word.

Carlos warned her that might not be entirely true. There might be times when he left her alone in a position or in a scene and he wouldn’t be around for her to surrender to. For instance, she probably would be spending at least one of the nights, Friday or Saturday, in a position not horizontal in a bed. She texted back that she understood, he wouldn’t leave her in that bad a situation, and she trusted him. He said it was good but reminded her to have extra changes of clothes with her and not to bring any that she’d be upset if they didn’t survive the weekend. Things might get cut off or torn off. She shivered delightfully when she read that.

Their weekend turned out to be a three-day weekend, which was good anyways. Gina would have Monday at home to recover with no worries about college classes. It was a quiet time late in her senior year there and it would be ideal. They were doing this at Carlos’ house and still expected Maria to return Sunday evening as she always did. No matter what their game would be over Sunday at noon if Gina lasted that long. If Maria stayed out longer they could play it by ear while being completely ready for Gina to make a quick getaway.

The game took shape. In their game the secret Carlos was after was the PIN number to her ATM card. Carlos already knew it but it was something she could refuse to give and Carlos would know she was ok with keeping going. If she wanted things to stop all she had to do was give him the number and it all would be over. She felt intrigued, turned on by the thought of being a prisoner. In this scenario she was free to fight to her heart’s content. If she needed a break, she could give a different number and Carlos would know to back off for a while even though she might be “held accountable” when in game the number was found not to be correct.

Carlos had her bring over her Fucking Machine and all the attachments along with some other things. She left it in her car trunk, Carlos said he would go get it later when it was darker and quieter; walking the few houses from where she parked with it any earlier was asking for problems. At dinner, where Gina took full liberties with the wine list, he asked her if she still wanted this to happen. She confirmed she did. Scared? Oh yes. Reluctant? No. Turned on? Way more than she wanted to admit.

He drove her to a secluded area a little out of the way on their drive home. He stopped the truck where no one was around. Gina was fortified with the wine but still felt vulnerable out here in the middle of nowhere in a short silk dress and heels. It was an open dirt area in a small two or three-acre meadow a minute or two off the paved road down a dirt one. No lights were visible anywhere, just moonlight showing the trees at the edge of the meadow. Carlos came over and opened her door and she found herself pulled roughly out of the car and her back pushed into the side of the truck bed while he loomed danger close to her. It begins, she thought with a delighted shiver that was definitely sexual. Here we go!

He demanded her ATM pin number. She defiantly refused; there was two hundred thousand dollars in there and he’d take the money and disappear. There was actually just a small fraction of that in there and they both knew it, but it was the game. He got right in her face and warned her that nobody knew where she was and he could make life rough for her, very rough, very unpleasant. And he reached out and squeezed one of her breasts before she slapped his hand away.

She tried to make a dash for it, got about fifty feet before Carlos caught her and brought her down. Flat on her stomach Carlos wrestled her arms behind her and she felt handcuffs ratchet down to hold them there. He pulled her to her feet. One of her shoes was off; he told her to kick off the other. Glaring at him she did.

He hauled her roughly back to his truck. He undid the truck bed dust cover and to her surprise pulled out a rope, apparently tied to something in the bed. He leaned her up against the side of the truck again and forced her cuffed hands into the bed and then tied the rope to them, tethering her in place. Another small piece of rope tightly around her ankles removed her ability to kick. She tried as he bound her ankles and managed to knock him off balance. When he got her ankles tied, he stood up and slapped her full in the face for it. It was a watershed moment. Carlos had never hit her at any time and while it was far from his full strength it was also far from gentle. He telegraphed it enough for her to see it coming and prepare but it still jerked her head around and stung and left a warm feeling spreading across her cheek. He stopped for a second to see if she was going to freak out or crack or break down but she only stared defiantly at him while still trying to work free from her bonds. And then she spit at him. She missed, probably on purpose, Carlos concluded, but just barely. Well, he thought, no surrender and she’s certainly still into the spirit of the thing.

With her neutralized he took his time grabbing and squeezing at her body. She struggled as much as she could and told him he was going to rot in jail for this when it was over. He ignored her. When he had finished with groping her through her clothes and underneath them, he again asked her for the PIN number. Carlos told her it was going to get worse if she continued to fight.

“What, for who?” she taunted him. “Do you get off on slapping helpless women, you sicko?” He gave her a matching warm spot on the other cheek for that. She just stood there with her eyes blazing but this time said and did nothing.

He reached under the passenger seat and emerged with a large hunting knife in a sheath. Gina’s eyes got wide as he drew the blade out and she shifted a little uncomfortably. He could see in her eyes he didn’t need to tell her to stay still. He ran the tip of the knife up and down between her clavicle and down into her cleavage and back. “There’s nobody out here. Nobody to hear you scream. I could cut you and watch you bleed. Sure you don’t want to give me that number?” The knife glinted as it turned in the moonlight.

Gina shivered, still in character. “No. I can’t stop you, we both know that. Even if you kill me, you still don’t have my money. If I told you the code, you’d probably kill me anyways. Do your worst!”

He did. The next time he brought it down he suddenly jerked it downward. Gina jumped and gave a screech but she was unharmed. The dress she wore, however, was now sliced down the front and open, her taut stomach showing, her large breasts pushing the slit edges out almost to her nipples.

Carlos smiled. He grabbed the ruined dress at the collar and cut it on the left side all the way down to where it ended on her bicep. A second later another cut was made down the other shoulder. He grabbed her nipples and pulled her forward with a squeak and the dress fluttered to the ground.

Now all she wore was panties. Two small slices at her hips and a pull and then she was completely naked. She shivered a little but held very still as the knife again began running all over her body, up from her pubic hair, across her breasts, gently across her throat. She felt him place the edge of the blade against the bottom of her left nipple. All he had to do was draw it across her and her nipple would be gone. She shivered more but held very, very still. The knife was very sharp; it had easily gone through the fabric of her dress…

“PIN number, now!” Carlos demanded. The blade hadn’t moved.

“I can’t!” She almost sobbed. “My father would disown me. I might as well be dead. “

He leaned in close, inches from her face. And then he and the knife pulled away.

“Break, Gina,” he told her. “How are you doing?”

She snickered. “Oh, I’m fine. Having a good time. You’re doing great. I’m scared like hell but you’re not hurting me yet. I sure hope there’s some major fucking soon; I am so ready.” She paused and gave him a smile. “You’re doing fine love, keep it up.” And then her face went back to the scared but determined young woman it had been before his question.

Carlos slunk back into character as well. He grabbed her hair, jerked it down roughly to raise her race up and he was inches away from her. “Ok, you can give it to me any time you want. Only that will get things to stop.”

He let her go and then reached back and untied the rope from her handcuffs. He untied the rope around her ankles and then pulled her, half dragged her because she was fighting, to the back of the truck. He bent her over and then used a rope tied to the bottom of the bed at the edges of the tailgate to run over her bent-over back and under her still-handcuffed arms and then tightened it, forcing her to lean over and lay flat, her breasts squashed in the truck bed. Two more ropes ran outside of the edges of the tailgate and Carlos tied them to spread her ankles. Then, with her trapped leaning over the tailgate Gina was reasonably happy that her request was about to be fulfilled.

Carlos dropped his pants far enough to pull his member out; Gina with her head turned could barely see him. She felt him playing around her exposed anus. No, dammit. Wrong hole. And this time I am saying stop, she thought, but said nothing. She was helpless and if Carlos wanted her that way, well, she couldn’t stop him without ruining the game. It was part of the rules that she couldn’t have him change anything he wanted to do; to do that would be to concede defeat. But she really, really, really wanted him in the other place.

He played around the two for a few seconds. “Tell me the PIN and this stops now!” He threatened.

Fuck that, she thought, and fuck me! “I can’t stop you, you pervert! I’d tell you and you’d rape me anyways. Go to hell.”

He plunged hard into her pussy. Gina shook and almost yelled, it felt so good. Yes, yes! He was stroking her with strong, steady thrusts, slamming her hard since she was trapped against the tailgate. Her breathing grew ever heavier.

And she came with a loud groan, shaking hard for about two minutes. He just held still. She considered just as a joke blurting out the correct PIN number as a thank you then taking it back. She enjoyed the waves washing over her and then grunted at Carlos. His turn.

But suddenly there was car engine noise coming fast up the road they had traveled. Carlos barely had time to pull up his pants and there were two sets of headlights and a bright spotlight flooding the two of them and the bed of the truck into near-daylight. And blue and red lights swirling all around them in the trees.

A voice came from one of the squad car speakers. “Back away from her and put your hands on your head!” Car doors were opening and closing and two large men in police uniform were closing fast on Carlos. He looked down at her with a shocked, bewildered, terrified look as the policemen pulled his arms behind him and led him away.

“Wait.” He stopped once they had gotten a little bit toward the patrol cars. “You’ll need the handcuff keys in my right pants pocket to get them off her. Please get them.” One of the officers fished in there and found the keys and handed it to the third, who had gotten a blanket and was approaching Gina.

He threw the blanket over her bare body and reached underneath it with the keys to remove the cuffs she wore. “It’s all over now, miss.” He began. “You’re safe now.”

Once her wrists were free, she slipped her arms and then herself under the rope that had pinned her down as the officer untied her ankles. “Officer, you don’t understand. He’s my boyfriend. He wasn’t attacking me.”

Freed, Gina wrapped herself in the blanket and sat on the tailgate. The officer, by his uniform a sergeant, looked in the cab and found her purse and retrieved her driver’s license. Gina could hear him call in her ID and a minute or two later the dispatcher confirmed there was no police interest in her. He looked at the young woman and managed not to shake his head. She was probably telling the truth; she certainly wasn’t acting like someone who had been rescued from the middle of a sexual assault.

He found her slashed dress and brought it with him. He looked at the license and then at Gina. “Miss Arthur,” he began, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on here.”

Gina gulped, took a breath to steady herself. “He’s my boyfriend. Absolutely nothing is going on wrong here. It’s completely consensual; I refuse to press any charges. To be honest, we’ve been planning this for a couple of weeks and I’ve been looking forward to it. I guess we just didn’t go out into the woods far enough.”

The sergeant gave a little laugh as he shook his head. Gina continued. “And sir, if it’s possible, I’d really like to avoid filing a report on this. We’re fine, I promise. We just wanted to be somewhere private out here and have some fun.”

The other two officers returned with a handcuffed Carlos. One of them spotted Gina’s heels where they had been left when she had run and brought them to her. The other officers gave the sergeant something small, probably Carlos’ driver’s license.

“What’s his story?” The sergeant asked the officer who had given him the ID, nodding his head toward Carlos.

“Name is Carlos Monterra. He’s been cooperative. Nothing in the computer on him. He says they were just having some kinky sex and that we should ask her and she’ll tell us that everything was consensual.” They all looked over at Gina who was nodding yes vigorously.

The sergeant wiped his face with his hand; Gina thought he might have been laughing and trying to hide it. Or just shaking his head. He looked at the other two officers. “If I write a report on this, I’m going to be telling the story for the next three months. How about I say we just found two people talking? I’ll tell Brownell the truth later if he asks.” Both of the other officers nodded their agreement.

At a shrug from the sergeant the handcuffs were removed from Carlos and he stepped over to stand beside Gina. Gina stood up and took his hand. The sergeant looked at both of their licenses one more time and then handed them back to them. “Mr. Monterra, Miss Arthur, not here, ok? Get a room.”

“We’ll be gone in ten minutes,” Carlos answered. “I promise.” Gina nodded her agreement.

The sergeant looked like he was going to say something more but bit his lip and thought better of it. He turned and with the other two officers walked back to the two squad cars and sixty seconds later Carlos and Gina were again alone in a moonlit silent meadow.

Carlos was still standing still, frozen, just breathing. Gina looked at him and then she flung her arms around him and started laughing hysterically. The blanket fell to the ground but she didn’t care. Maybe it was funny, Carlos thought, but more likely just the way Gina was dealing with the stress. After a few minutes she stopped laughing and squishing him and retrieved the blanket. She wrapped herself in it and sat back down on the tailgate.

“Well, what now baby?” She asked him. “I honestly was having fun. I could keep playing if you wanted to. But we’d better go home.”

Carlos shook his head. “Yeah. Sorry about this. Not as quiet and secure a spot as I thought.” He laughed a little himself. “You really want to keep playing?”

She handed him the handcuffs with a mischievous smile and ran her wrists behind her back. “Sure, why not? I mean, what else can go wrong this weekend?” They both laughed at that.

He grabbed her and spun her around and she felt the cuffs ratchet back down on her wrists. He hoisted her into the truck bed and soon she was hogtied and helpless there with her ruined dress and heels beside her. He blew her a kiss as he pulled the cover back over her and the bed. She laughed from where she lay and blew a kiss back at him. “Oh no, sir!” He could hear Gina call from underneath the cover in an old-time movie damsel-in-distress voice. “What evah is this evil man going to do with me now?” He thumped the cover in acknowledgement. She laughed and he got in the cab and drove away.


Gina lay still in the truck bed grateful Carlos wasn’t bouncing her around too much. Finally they stopped and she sensed the car backing up a bit and then the engine shut off. They must be back at Carlos’ house. She worried a little about Carlos not backing all the way into the garage and then calmed down. It must have been 12:30 by then and if there was anyone to see them Carlos would have taken precautions. Anyways, hogtied she wasn’t about to affect this one way or the other.

She could have happily curled up in his bed for the night (morning?) but knew that nothing like that was going to happen unless she quit or paused things. He had pointed out when they were planning that she probably wouldn’t be sleeping comfortably all weekend and could expect to be left in some stress position while he caught catnaps since he was trying to break her.

Gina heard Carlos’ car door open and close and then him walk away. After a second of consideration she concluded he was probably walking to her car to get her spare clothes and the other things she had brought with her; he’d be needing them now. She heard the garage door open just past the tailgate. Carlos walked inside and then came back. She heard the tailgate open.

OK, Gina thought, now the fun begins. She felt him grab one of her knees and drag her to the back of the truck bed. Her breasts rubbed against the rubbery material of the truck bed; she’d have to decide later if that felt good or not. Once she was far enough out, he picked her up and carried her quickly to the center of the still-darkened garage and left her still hogtied in the middle of the floor. She was indeed in his garage. She watched as he went back to retrieve her dress and heels, close the tailgate and then the garage door.

Gina shivered as Carlos turned on the swamp cooler running in the wall in the far corner of the garage and it wasn’t from the cold. It wasn’t cold yet but from him doing that she expected to be stuck in the garage for a while. It was somewhat soundproofed since Carlos sometimes did freelance auto repairs here and the swamp cooler running would finish drowning out any sounds, screams, she might make. Given enough time the swamp cooler would make the garage cold and damp, more uncomfortable for a naked trapped captive.

There was a piece of heavy plywood laying on the garage floor a little bit away from her. Gina could see eye bolts firmly mounted in places, including all four corners. She didn’t have to guess what that was for.

Carlos went behind a shelf and pulled out a spreader bar. It had two leather cuffs attached to it. As she watched he brought it over and attached the suspension cuffs to her ankles. He brought her over to the deep center of the garage where an engine hoist was mounted in the rafters. To her expectations the spreader bar was attached to the hoist and then Carlos undid her hogtie. Her relief was short-lived as he walked to the side of the garage, grabbed a control box on a long cord, and with a click her ankles began rising in the air as the winch drew them upward.

“I don’t care what you do to me” Gina taunted him defiantly as her hips left the ground. “You’re never getting that code.”

He put the control down and walked up to her. She was hanging upside down, her legs spread by the separation of the spreader bar, her crotch about at face level. He squatted down to look at her. “We shall definitely see, won’t we?”

With her hands cuffed behind her back she could do nothing as he buried his face in her pussy and started slurping. She struggled a bit and wriggled but all in all it felt good. She did give an indignant squeak as way too soon he drew away.

She was miffed. “Making me feel good isn’t going to get you the code but you’re welcome to try. Why did you stop?”

“Because making you feel good was not my plan.” He went back to behind the shelf and pulled out another spreader bar also with suspension cuffs attached to it. He brought it back and put it on the concrete. He uncuffed her hands. She fought him but upside down she had little leverage to prevent her wrists going into the second spreader bar cuffs. He lowered her and attached the winch to the bar holding her wrists. As he raised her wrists almost to the rafters she felt her feet come off the ground. Unless she missed her guess, now came the pain.

She was right. He picked up the flogger she had brought with her and ran it over her body. “It’s getting late and I’m ready to go to bed. You have pretty white skin; it will be such a pity to turn all of that skin red and then leave you here hanging just like you are to deal with your whip marks all night.” He got right up in her face. “And have no doubt, if I finish and walk out that door without the code here you will hang right where you are until I wake up.” Gina thought it could be an idle threat but he had warned her he might do this and quite literally be out of reach for some periods of time over the weekend.

She just looked at him warily. Her wrists were holding her in mid-air, her ankles far apart, never having been released from the spreader bar. “I can’t stop you and I’m not giving you the code. Oh yeah, I could, but what then? You still whip me and then kill me once you’ve got the money. I can’t stop you but I’m not stupid enough to remove my value to you. Daddy’s sure to have his men looking for me. Maybe I’ll be rescued before you’re through and it’s you that will be dead. Have fun, you sick bastard!”

Carlos gave her a tight sad smile. Inwardly he was in a quandary about whipping her. He had warned her of what he was going to do and she had more or less spit in his face again. Ok love, he thought, here comes. You can give me the code at any time.

He began spinning the flogger in a circular motion. It only took a small motion to start playing the spinning end of the flogger all over her breasts. She flinched and tried to pull away. She could move a bit but really not escape. It didn’t hurt that much, Carlos reflected, but the continued application of it after long enough would produce the desired effect. She continued to struggle as the skin on her breasts slowly turned red. Her struggles became more pronounced as the color deepened. He tried to make sure the skin was changing color uniformly. She was struggling too much for Carlos so part way through he disconnected her ankle cuffs from the bar and tied them spread wide to points on the floor. He returned to spinning the flogger on her breasts, sometimes pulling one out by the nipple so he could whip the underside. She struggled and tried to pull away while she kept her teeth gritted and denied him the pleasure of her cries. Every once in a while, when the spinning leather returned to a tender spot he got them anyway.

When Carlos had enough of reddening her breasts he again went into the bag of things he asked her to bring. He pulled out her ball gag. He walked up to her. “Breasts feel good?” She just glared at him. “You can give me the code now or I will make parts of your body feel way worse than that.”

She was tired and hurting. Her hair was everywhere, all over her face from her struggling, blocking Carlos’ clear view of her. He could have strung her up so tightly she would have been helpless to move but he left her loose enough to wiggle and dodge the whip. Which only made its arrival worse. She answered him with resignation while keeping her head slumped forward. Her shoulders were really aching after all that suspension and struggling. “I’ve already answered that. I give you the code, you kill me. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be whipped any more either. You could just stop; I’m not going to tell you no matter what because of what will happen then.”

“That’s not true. Once I have the money, I leave you safe and comfortable somewhere. I get far enough away and call your father and tell him where to find you.”

“So you say. Words lie. I’m not going to bet my life on the word of someone who just beat me with a flogger.”

He brought the ball gag up to her mouth. “Open wide.”

“Why?” Gina shot back bitterly, turning her head. “So you can really beat the hell out of me? I’ve already told you that won’t work! Go fuck yourse….”

Carlos brought the flogger down across her bottom, very hard. Gina spasmed and jerked in pain, her scream cut off almost immediately by the ball gag being stuffed into her now-wide-open mouth. She fought and struggled as Carlos fastened it tightly behind her head.

He walked back in front of her. Gina was still shaking a little and glared a look of hate toward him. He looked at her. “The pain can stop at any time. When you’re ready to give me the code just snap your fingers.” She gave no reply but continued her stare of hate. She did do something with both hands: extended both middle fingers.

He walked around her and she steeled herself. She barely had a heartbeat of warning as the first blow landed hard across her shoulder blades with a very loud crack. She hardly registered the sound because she was screaming into the ball gag and jerking forward but it was to no point. The strike had been done and Carlos was waiting and watching her reaction, watching for her to snap her fingers. She didn’t.

He walked around to the front of her. She watched him, a wary animal, waiting for where he was going to strike next. It was both breasts in quick succession and she barely had time to draw in the breath to scream from the whip landing on her already-hurting left breast and there was a matching blow on her right. Both blossomed into red pain. She yelled. She shook and moaned into the ball gag, then fell silent and still when she heard the flogger whistling again, listening as Carlos spun it in the air, the promise of fresh pain blossoming somewhere on her body. She shied back as best she could, tried to dodge one way or the other for what little good it did. A little part of the back of her mind was asking, why not stop this now? It hurt, dammit! Multiple spots on her body like little spot fires burned and flared pain where he had laid the flogger in hard. This was right up there with what Scott did to her in terms of pain. And she had asked for this? Waited for this? Looked forward to this? No, waited for the thought of being in the situation. For the chance to challenge herself and show Carlos how strong she was. But not the pain. Not this.

The whip continued to whistle in the air. Carlos must be trying to unnerve her, get her to snap her fingers. The unnerving part was working great.

And then the flogger changed direction and she had a heartbeat of warning as he brought it down hard between her legs. Somehow he didn’t hit her clit, she feared she might explode if that happened. But it was bad enough. She howled and she shook and yelled through the ball gag and shook and shook and shook. Just spasms, involuntary. When it finally cleared, she found herself crying quietly now. And watching him. His arm was down, the flogger at his side, but her gaze was fixed on it. Waiting for it to start moving. Waiting for it to bite her again.

He reached back into the bag she had brought and withdrew… her blindfold. “No.” She begged through the ball gag. “No, please, no.” What he was doing was bad enough. At least she could see him and get a microscopic little bit of warning. See his face, know he wasn’t angry, know it was just a game. Her struggles and tossing her head were ineffectual to stop him and soon it was in place. Gina still hadn’t snapped her fingers so Carlos thought she was signaling that he should continue. He flashed the flogger through the air then picked a still-pale spot, her stomach, landed it there.

She shrieked and shook and shook as he watched and let her calm down. Without her sight her fear was starting to get the better of her and she was starting to hyperventilate. Just snap your fingers, baby, Carlos thought. You know I don’t like this stuff. She didn’t so he found another un-reddened spot on her back and continued his work.

She never signaled so he kept going even though the sight of all that red that he had created was starting to sicken him. How much of this could she take? Swing the flogger a few times in the air to let her know it was coming. Back of the thighs, bottom of her feet, on her breasts again, a hard strike, her gagged screaming and shaking but no surrender. She was crying when she wasn’t screaming. He was starting to run out of non-red spots on her body.

He had no way of knowing it but Gina had lost her way. Without her sight and with no way to speak she had just become an animal in pain, waiting for the next red dose to strike somewhere on her body. She would have done it long ago but higher-level thoughts like snapping her fingers were washed away by the exploding pain when he struck her, the red searing ache as it spread and her body just shaking uselessly on its own. Then when the shakes finally faded the only thing that mattered was listening with dread for the sound of the whip moving through the air again. Getting ready to strike her again. Deal more, fresh pain. Her shoulders ached from the length of time she had been hanging there. They felt like they were tearing each time he struck her and she shook and thrashed frantically. And all she could do was hang there and wait, crying quietly in fear. The seconds stretched into hours, until she could hear the flogger start moving again. It always did. Somehow it seemed after a while like this was all her life had ever been and all it ever would be. Explosive pain and then screaming into rubber, shoulders aching, sobbing, pain spreading, then waiting terrified for the next one.

He laid into her crotch, sure to hit her barely-protected clit, three times in a row. For certain that would break her. She screamed and shook extra-long after each time while he watched. Maybe she did like this sort of thing. He had heard of girls that got into pain. Gina was horribly kinky but he never would have thought that of her. Still no sign so he picked another spot and began whooshing the flogger while she danced desperately away, tied too tightly for that to have any real meaning.

It was two-thirty, he had been whipping her for nearly forty-five minutes and he was exhausted. There were no blisters and no skin was broken but there were very few spots from her shoulders on down to her knees that were not some shade of red. Nothing on her neck or arms, as promised since she’d have to sit in classes Tuesday. Then again, all this should be gone by then and he had no desire at all to do this again to her. Ever again. He hadn’t liked it the first time a month ago. He hated it now.

Gina just hung limply; head slumped down with her hair around her face. Unmoving, sobbing quietly. He untied her ankles and her feet just flopped to hang straight down underneath her. No fight left at all. Well, she had won this round, Carlos admitted, but at a tremendous cost. Probably the swamp cooler would turn out to be a mercy, keeping the air cold on what must be burning skin all over her body.

He removed the blindfold. Through all the places that hurt all over her body she looked up and was overjoyed to not see the flogger in his hand. It was over. He kissed her on the cheek. Funny, she thought, it didn’t hurt there. He missed a spot.

He looked her in the eyes. “I will never whip you like that, to hurt you, again. If you need that, find someone else.”

Oh, that was so very fine with her. If she had the strength to laugh she would have.

He smiled grimly. “Good night, my love. I have not enjoyed this either.” What, he was leaving? But she was gagged and too tired to move or make a sound. Just one huge red burning ache. He walked out the door into the house and closed it behind him, shutting off the light. She was now bathed only in the faint moonlight coming in from the skylight. Still suspended, her shoulders still ached like fire and her elbow joints were not much better. But he was gone, the flogger was gone and not hurting her any more. No fresh, new pain. She’d settle for that. She let her head slump back down, no point in trying to keep it up. There was no way she’d sleep like this, both from her shoulders and the burning everywhere else, but it was a sort of equilibrium. She looked over at the digital clock on the filing cabinet. Two forty-five. It was going to be a long, painful night. As she hung there the animal began to recede and the human being return.


The overhead light blazed back on. She looked at the clock, three-fifteen. Carlos came in to check on her, water bottle in his hand. He unstrapped the ball gag and she helped by spitting it out. He looked like he had showered in the interim. Her shoulders ached more than she could imagine. Everything from her neck down was tender as the cold air from the swamp cooler air moved across it. She felt, well, like Gina and not the animal she had been. She gratefully swallowed the water from the bottle pressed to her lips.

“Oh-four seventeen.” She whispered once she finished drinking. It wasn’t her PIN number but Carlos would know what she was saying. He did. He immediately grabbed the winch control and lowered her to a pile where she just folded up on the cold concrete floor. The cuffs were disconnected from the bar and she was allowed to curl up in a tight ball. Everywhere she touched anything hurt intensely but it was blessed and welcome relief with her weight no longer on her shoulders and wrists. She just lay there, rocking her naked body gently and moaning. Carlos watched.

Finally she stopped. “Potty break.” She whispered. Carlos helped her up. When he grabbed her under her arms she whimpered from the pain but managed as he walked her to the bathroom. With all the abuse she had taken to her pussy urinating hurt like hell but she managed. Carlos wiped her down, she managed not to scream. And then he helped her back up and out of the bathroom.

He was leading her back to the garage. “What, no bed?” She whispered in disbelief.

“You didn’t give me the right code. You still haven’t surrendered.” He stopped and looked at her. “Had enough?”

She looked back. He had said he wasn’t going to whip her again. The worst must be over. She survived that; she could win. “Oh four seventeen.” She repeated. He shrugged and kept going.

Carlos threw a double-laver of padded mat on the floor and laid her on top of it. She lay still on top of it, still too sore to really even want to move without his help. He pulled her collar out of the bag, locked it around her neck. Two chains were locked to it attached to things on either side of the garage, giving the collar and therefore her about a four-foot movement area centered on the pads. He went back in the house and came back with two pillows and two blankets. One pillow went under her head and one blanket was laid gently on top of her. Carlos took the other pillow and blanket to the overstuffed chair on one side of the room for himself. He left just a small light on one side on, turned off the other lights. “Sleep until morning.” He told her. “We’ll go get some breakfast if you’re up to it and continue the game afterward.” Gina was only too happy to comply.


Continues in

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