Paul Gable - Whipped captive

They took Christina back to the rear bedroom, lighting a small hurricane lamp to illuminate the area. Mike held her down while Chuck tied her arms and legs to the metal bedframe with some old torn sheets they'd found in the closet. She tugged at the linen bonds as they chafed her sensitive flesh. The thought that she was completely helpless nearly drove her mad with terror.

"Hold her down," Mike ordered as he watched her jerk her head up to see what was happening. Chuck slapped her several times until the men heard a groan escape from behind the gag. Reluctantly, Christina dropped her head to the crushed pillow and waited for the next degrading incident.

"Little fuck-pig," Mike muttered, flipping open the top of the lighter and spinning the flint wheel.

Christina watched as the sparks ignited a small yellowish flame.

"Ever see flesh burn up, baby? We ain't done somethin' like this for a long, long time. We ain't as bad as them Heathens. But right now, honey, you make me real, real mad," Mike said, his eyes glittering. The flame made his face look like something risen straight from hell.

"You gonna burn 'er?" Chuck asked.

Mike said nothing, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from one pocket of his leather jacket and jamming a smoke into his mouth. Sending his head while still keeping his eyes on the moaning, twisting blonde teen, he lit the cigarette, flipping the top of the lighter back down. Christina sighed. At least he wasn't going to incinerate her with that flame. "Yeah, but real slow," he whispered, moving toward the bed.

Christina's eyes focused on the glowing cigarette. She tried moving her legs but the linen bonds held her fast. The girl sobbed into the filthy gag, curling her fingers, clawing at the dirty top sheet.

"Maybe I should start here, right on this nipple," Mike said, sitting on one end of the bed. Christina felt the mattress sag badly as he reached over and held the burning cigarette an inch above her nipple. She cringed away. The heat of the tip grew slowly. She could smell the sharp aroma of the burning tobacco. Her flesh reddened from the flame. Oh, God, he was going to scar her for life! She'd be just like that horrible dark-haired girl, her flesh dotted with burn marks.

"Mmmmmmm!" Christina cried, the tendons bulging against the flesh of her inner thighs while the cords in her neck stood out. Sweat trickled from under her arms while she shivered. A little sob slid past the scummy gag in her mouth.

"Yeah, or maybe down there by her cunt," Mike said, moving the cigarette over her flesh, smiling as he watched her skin actually shiver and contract under the heat of his burning cigarette.

"Yeah, let's see if she's got enough juice to put it out," Chuck said encouragingly.

Christina wished she could have passed out. She waited there, tied helpless to the bed. Mike held the cigarette above her navel for a minute, moving it around her belly in a tiny circle. He glanced up at her and smiled, enjoying her obvious terror. Then, while humming, he dropped the glowing tip to her flesh.

Christina first felt intense cold. She screamed into the gag, twisting her body violently as much as the cloth bonds would allow. The rusty springs squeaked and groaned under the girl's gyrations. Then the cold was quickly replaced by burning heat. She could smell the odor of her burning flesh and it made her sick.

"Yeah, yeah," Mike said, taking the tip of his cigarette away from her belly and staring at the dark red mark it had made in her quivering flesh.

Christina nearly choked on her own spittle as she turned her head away from the sickening scene. Her belly felt as if someone had knifed her several times. The heat was replaced by intense pain, the pain of her burned, injured flesh. Were they going to go on like this? She shook her head from side to side, knocking off the tears that were oozing into her mouth and nose.

The men waited for the girl to calm down before going at her again with the cigarette.

"Yeah, maybe the cunt," Mike said, moving the tiny, burning weapon down toward the stretched tendon of her inner thigh.

Christina looked at the young biker then dropped her eyes to her legs. She watched helplessly as he touched the hot tip of the cigarette to her skin, then dragged it along the line of her tendon.

Christina didn't think anything could be as painful as that! She tried to remain quiet. No, she couldn't let them get away with this, couldn't, let them know how much pain she was in. But as the line of agony moved closer to her pussy, Christina felt all her fine resolves about being stoic disappear. With a whispering crackle, the first few curly hairs on her cunt-lips burned. Then there was the nauseating reeking odor of her burning flesh. It was too much for her to stand.

"Mmmmmfffff!"

The pain was horrible. The burning heat felt like a dozen burning coals on her cunt. The gag held her mouth open wide. With a tearing pain in her throat, her breath went out. Christina moaned low, feeling more tears flowing from her eyes.

"Stop!" she cried, the gag falling from her mouth.

"Yeah, sure," Mike said, moving the cigarette away from her thighs. Christina sighed with relief, falling back onto the filthy bed. It was only a temporary reprieve, that she knew.

He whispered something to Chuck, then reached over and started untying the linen bonds.

"Don't get your fuckin' hopes up, honey. We're just changin' your position," Mike said, loosening the ties around the bedframe, then taking the girl by the waist and rolling her over until she was crouched in a doggie position. Christina felt her tits scraping the top sheet. Mike and Chuck re-attached the linen, making sure her knees were spread widely apart while her wrist were securely fastened to the bedframe. Her ass rose high and exposed in the air. She could feel a draft cooling her cunt-lips. The musty smell of old sheets filled her nose. The burned areas of her belly and pussy made her suck in lungfuls of air. "Oh!"

She felt Mike running his fingers up and down the bare soles of her feet. She gasped, her toes curling. What was he up to?

"Yeah!" he whispered, pushing his head forward and burying it in her upturned pussy.

The girl lurched forward, her lower jaw dropping while her eyes bugged out and her nostrils flared. She let out several gasps of surprised delight and fear. After all that pain, were they going to give her this kind of pleasure?

The young biker backed away. Then he reached around his leather belt for a small pocket-knife holder.

"Let's see how she likes to fuck this," Mike said, pulling out a small, two-inch bladed knife and flipping it open.

Christina couldn't see what was happening, but realized he'd devised some new hellish plan to torment her. He was moving behind her, reaching under her belly and pawing her tits before backing down again.

"What…"

Suddenly, she was aware of something sharp slicing a thin line across her asscheeks. A knife! He was going to slice her open! Christina remembered all those marks on that biker girl. Oh, God, they were turning her into one of their own kind. Mike was going to make her like the rest of them. She'd carry the scars of her torment with her the rest of her life, a reminder of this horrible night and the men who had tortured her.

Christina tried to inch away from the sharp pain.

"No, please, don't," she whimpered, tugging at the linen. She thought she'd piss from the terror knifing through her loins.

Mike only licked his lips, pleased at the girl's mounting fear. He'd worried that she would be numbed to any kind of degrading act by now. But Christina never ceased to amaze him.

"Hot little bitch," he muttered.

Christina felt the hot sticky line of her pussy-slit exposed. The tip of the knife slid across one buttock, then moved to the other. It slipped along to the point where her ass met her thigh. The pressure increased as the needle-sharp point slid closer to her pussy. Christina wanted to shriek, but knew that the lightest move would put the knife's blade through her flesh.