J McKenna: Naughty girl

Carl opened his eyes and locked his with Gloria’s. “See, my pet,” she said, stroking his erect member lightly, “you can enjoy the pleasures of another man. If I chose to, I could sell you to a man in San Francisco who would very much appreciate someone like you under his control. He’d have to be a strong man, of course. With sufficient training, you could learn to give head as well as receive it.”

Carl’s cock ached for release in her hand.

“Aaaah, look, you’re still hard from a man’s mouth and it’s just your first lesson. And we have many weeks of training ahead. Already your body betrays you. Soon your mind will follow. You will learn. You will suck when I tell you to suck, you will caress whoever I tell you to and you will instantly obey any command.”

She stared back at Carl. “I can see your defiance. That’s okay. Many of my subjects were defiant in the beginning. Sven included. But trust me—I have ways of making you change your mind.”

Carl jerked in his bonds and growled at her, letting the red haze of his anger flash before bringing it under control. He’d need all his control if he was to escape this madwoman and her twisted lifestyle.

His cock shrank. Gloria released it, then stepped even closer, until her lips were just inches from his. “Looks like you need a little lesson in obedience,” she said, then rapped the side of his jaw with the riding crop. Carl winced, though it didn’t hurt much.

“Ohh, what’s this? Did that hurt? Well, perhaps we’ve found your weakness. Every man has one. Sven!”

She stepped back and her slave came forward immediately. “Let’s give our new slave his first taste of the lash, shall we?”

She laughed at Carl’s expression. “But let’s be careful, dear. Don’t give him a chance to get loose.”

Sven didn’t. He left the chains to his feet in place and the strap holding Carl’s waist tight to the post while he unfastened one of the cuffs around his wrists. Carl tried to swing at him with his free hand, but couldn’t get any purchase. Sven’s big hand trapped it easily and brought it around to the front and refastened the handcuffs. He attached the cuffs to a steel cable that ran up to the top of the pole, then went to the wall. Carl could see a large wheel there. Sven turned it, drawing Carl’s bound hands up to just above his head.

Sven returned and bent down and unhooked one chain and brought that leg behind his other one and refastened it, causing Carl to stand awkwardly like a crane. He wasn’t sure what this was supposed to accomplish until Sven stood and unhooked the strap around his waist. Now Carl understood. Sven meant to turn him around, facing the post.

Sven grabbed his hips and rotated them, causing his feet to become untangled. He was helpless to stop him with his hands over head. In seconds, Carl’s waist was reconnected to the post. All he could see was the grain of the wood in front of him. He twisted around in time to see Sven pull on the wheel, drawing Carl’s hands further up the post.

He mocked himself. Good. My plan is working perfectly! Then he laughed silently at his predicament. He heard Gloria select a weapon of choice and waited for the first blow.

He sensed Gloria approaching and tried not to tense up. She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “The sooner you cooperate, the sooner the punishments can stop,” she told him then she was gone.

He heard the whistling of something deadly and when it struck him, he thought he might die from the shock and the pain. He cried out in spite of himself, all thoughts of being stoic dissipating like smoke in the wind.

Another blow struck him, pressing him against the post and forcing another cry from his lips. The red haze of fury now obscured his vision and he felt out of control. He struggled to rein in his emotions, knowing he had to play this just right or be lost, perhaps forever.

Tears streamed from his face as blows three and four struck. He screamed, begging her to stop. Each successive blow hurt, but somehow he had become numb—or maybe his mind was finally taking control. He hoped he sounded convincing. She had beaten many a man, after all. She might see through his charade.

When the seventh blow struck, Carl yelped then sagged in his bonds, feigning unconsciousness. He could feel blood trickling down his back. Now everything hinged on his ability to convince Gloria and Sven that he was truly out. He let his head loll, his mouth hung open, drooling.

He heard Gloria approach and felt her poke his ribs with her riding crop. He made no movement.

“Looks like our big brave hero can’t stand a little discipline, huh, Sven?”

There was silence for a moment then the riding crop slashed down across his spine. The pain flashed anew in his head, but he willed himself not to react. He had expected some treachery like that. He concentrated on DeeDee. I have to save DeeDee!

“Better cut him down and put him in his cell. On his stomach, of course. Make sure his hands and feet are cuffed—we don’t want to give him any chance to escape. Then you can put some salve on his wounds.”

Carl felt the cable lengthen and his hands came down. He let his body sag along with it, scraping painfully against the post. His feet were still chained to the base, so he hung awkwardly, his head between his arms.

He felt Sven at his feet, unchaining him from the post. Sven grabbed Carl around the waist and reached up with his left hand to unhook his cuffs from the cable. Carl let himself sag into the man’s arms. Sven was in an awkward position himself at the moment and Carl took full advantage of it. He stepped out with his right foot and pivoted, bringing both his bound hands up in a double fist, catching the bigger man right under the chin. Sven grunted and let him go, spinning away.

Carl followed him, ignoring the woman for the moment, and front-kicked him in the stomach just as he spun to face him. Sven buckled. His head came down and Carl drove his knee up into his face. There came a nasty crunching sound and Sven collapsed onto the concrete floor.

“Bastard!”

Carl spun and dodged just in time to avoid a desperate Gloria from beaning him over the head with a wooden club. As her right arm rushed past, he grabbed her wrist with both hands then used his left elbow to press against her elbow backwards to force her to the floor. She was a strong woman, and he had to press until he heard her bones creak before she went all the way down.

“Do what I say or I’ll break your arm,” he growled. He stood, hunched over, and dragged her along with him to Sven, who was groaning, holding his bloody face. It was awkward trying to get the keys, so he had to let Gloria go while he uncuffed his wrists. He backhanded her across her face. “Don’t move or I’ll hurt you,” he warned.

He quickly put the cuffs on Sven. Gloria stayed on her stomach, watching him warily, her face a mask of concern for Sven.

While the big man was still semiconscious, he dragged him over to a cell and tossed him onto the cot, then locked the door. He heard a noise, turned and saw Gloria up and running for the basement door.

He sprinted after her, knowing that if she reached the door before he did, he’d be trapped down there. He didn’t have time for that, not if he was going to get to DeeDee in time.

He caught her halfway up the stairs. He reached up and locked an arm around her throat from behind, then dragged her kicking and screaming back down the stairs and over to the second cell. She was strong and managed to kick him with her heel between his legs. He grimaced and tightened his grip on her throat until she began to sag. Then he pushed her into the cell and slammed the door on her face.

She recovered quickly. “You can’t leave us here!” she shouted. “Sven needs medical attention. Look what you did!” She pointed at the groaning Swede.