Robert Vickers: Sister in chains

The man stood impassively in the center of the room. The look on his face was one of mild displeasure.

"You said you would undergo the purification ceremony. To stay here, you must!"

"Well, fuck you, James! I'm not going to do any such thing if you have to strip me bare-ass naked!"

"Do so," he said, his voice cold and commanding.

The girl's legs were forced together long enough for the unseen hands to rip her jeans off. She heard the metallic click of scissors, behind and felt the coldness of the blades pressing into her back. Someone snipped up the back of her thin teeshirt and pulled it from her body. She was left clad only in her skimpy panties and thin bra.

Those went next.

The bra strap was cut, and she felt her firm lush tits swaying freely. Cool hands caressed them briefly, almost accidentally, as she was forced forward into the stocks. Her neck and hands were placed in the half-circles. The top piece was lowered and she was firmly imprisoned.

"What's going on?" she screamed. "Why are you doing this to me? James, what's happening?"

He stood like a statue watching her. She felt chills go up and down her spine that had nothing to do with the coldness of the room. She was truly frightened now. She had never really known her brother – this was a complete stranger to her. His face was pinched and white and he looked mote like a saint than a human being.

Brandy knew for a fact that no human being would ever inflict the kind of humiliation on her that was now being so freely bestowed.

"Remove those Satanic garments," James commanded.

The teenager felt cold fingers working under the waist band of her panties. The hands stroked over the smooth curves of her asscheeks, dipping briefly into the humid crack between them. Then the silk panties were falling to the floor around her ankles.

She was totally naked and at the mercy of her unseen attackers.

"Begin the ceremony of purification," her brother said. He sounded like a recording on a telephone answering device.

"For God's sake, James, what is going on?" she demanded. And then the blonde teenager felt the whip land on her back. She screamed. The pain was almost more than she could bear. The shock probably did as much to make it painful as anything. She hadn't been expecting this kind of treatment.

Craning her neck, she tried to turn her head enough to see what was happening behind her. The wood stock prevented it. She felt the whip land again, the sting less this time. She knew what was happening, but she was helpless to prevent it.

"James!" she pleaded. "Don't let them whip me like this!"

"Fifty lashes to begin the purification," he said. She looked at him in astonishment. This was the purification he had spoken of! What amazed her even more was the sight of the man's robe. The front tented up at his crotch. The girl simply couldn't believe that he was getting a boner watching the others whip her.

And yet that was exactly the way it appeared to her.

She moaned and cried out every time the whip landed on her back. When she had counted to fifty, they released her. The girl collapsed to the floor, weaker than she'd thought possible. But her ordeal wasn't over yet. Her brother came over, gripped her wrists and looped a thin chain around them. He secured it with a small device similar to the lock on the chain around his waist.

He cast her out onto the cold stone floor so that she was on hands and knees. Her nakedness bothered her. The cold was bad but she felt vulnerable, helpless, totally at the mercy of these people.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked, fearing the answer. With her hands securely chained as they were, she could do little to prevent any kind of abuse they wanted to heap on her.

Brandy was truly in a dilemma. She could leave here – but she would have to return to her father. He might rape her at any time. But was it any better being whipped like a dog? The young girl simply didn't know.

"I must chase out the demons in your body. To do this, I use a switch taken from the sacred hawthorn tree." Her brother was handed a three-foot-long, thin rod of wood. He advanced on her. She tried to scuttle away on hands and knees. This seemed to be what he wanted.

He landed his first blow on her ass. The wood switch smarted as it landed, leaving an ugly red welt. She yelped and this slowed her down. He turned the switch sideways then and landed a blow directly along her cuntlips. The suddenness of the pain exploded in her brain. She thought she would pass out.

He continued lashing out at her, every blow landing squarely on her puffy cuntlips. She moaned and struggled to get away. Wherever she turned, he was there to punish her with the wood switch. He continued to land blow after blow on her naked, tender flesh until she was sure he was going to beat her to death.

Slowly, the teenager realized that even though she was in pain, he wasn't inflicting any permanent damage on her. He was methodically whipping her with the stick but only welts were being raised. He didn't even break the skin, in a way that made the pain worse. She felt knives of agony jabbing up into her cunt.

The girl was surprised to find her cunt beginning to water as if in anticipation of a long, hard cock. She couldn't explain it. Perhaps it was only her body's way of trying to protect itself. But she doubted that.

She realized that she was breathing faster, her pulse pounding, her body demanding more and more attention from her brother's whip. Her cunt was livid with welts now and her asscheeks were criss-crossed with red lines. When she collapsed onto her face, he stuck his foot under her belly and rolled her over. She put up her chained hands to protect her face, but it wasn't her perfectly formed face he wanted to lash out at now.

The length of stick landed squarely on both of her tits at the same time. She screamed. He continued to whip her lovely, snow-white tits. He managed to find the nipples time and time again. His aim was fantastically good. He tormented and teased those nipples into full, pulsing, throbbing, painful erection. They pointed like ugly red fingers directly at the ornate, frescoed ceiling of the grim torture room.

"The Devil's work!" he screamed as he lashed out repeatedly at her. "The Devil is being driven out now. I see it, I feel it!"

Her tits felt as if they would explode. The blood pounding into them made the pain even worse. The girl was about to go out of her head. She tried to protect her tender tits from his whipping with her chained hands, but he moved down her belly to her cunt.

The feel of that hawthorn switch against her cuntlips again told her that she was better able to stand the pain if he whipped her tits. She cried and moaned in pain. Words wouldn't form in her throat.

As suddenly as the attack had started, so it stopped. She looked up, afraid of what she would see. Her brother's face was flushed and he was sweating profusely. She also saw the silver-dollar-sized damp spot on the front of his plain wool robe, right at the crotch.

"She is purified and may stay with us. See to her needs," he said, dropping the wooden rod and walking out, his robes swirling around his thin body.

Brandy felt cool hands, the same cool hands responsible for stripping her, lift her up and carry her away. She was in too much pain to ask where they were taking her. As long as the whipping had stopped, that was good enough for her.

The girl was carried to a dank stone-walled room, probably in the basement of the sprawling mansion. Brandy was too dazed to understand the full import of the bars on the windows and the heavy wood of the door.

She was a prisoner.

But the pain was too much for her to look around. She moaned softly and rolled over, the movement sending red lances of pain throughout her backside. Sitting up wasn't possible. The cold rough stone against her naked ass only accentuated the way her ass had been mercilessly used by the men upstairs.