Betrayal of the Virgin Bride

Chapter Two-2

“You know how to calm her, gentlemen. Do it!”

The scuffle was all one great blur for several seconds, until I suddenly found myself shoved over Dac’s big lap, being spanked hard and hotly on my upturned ass. At first, the strikes were from his bare palm landing smartly on my clothed behind. That was enough in itself to get my attention—and yet I kept kicking like a naughty schoolchild. Seconds into the assault—perhaps because I was fighting so hard—the spanking took a nasty change. The emerald dress was jerked up high to expose my naked bottom cheeks and Dac’s huge black fist came down, this time gripping a wooden paddle. The sting shot from my hot, blistered cheeks, though my nerves to the far extremities of my flailing body. Although Dac was certainly big enough to keep me from wrenching off his lap, he soon had help. My wild gyrations were forcefully subdued by men at my head and feet, taking control of my arms and legs so that I could hardly move.

“Dammit it, nooooooooo!” I bawled.

But no one paid attention.

My body was wracked with pain, my ass a hellish furnace.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” I grunted loudly as I tried jerking away. But there seemed no end to the relentless horror.

“If you want him to stop, you do as I tell you.” Mr. Sands’ spoke with a voice of reason rising above the loud ruckus.

“Yes, yes anything!”

The black man suddenly stopped the brutal spanking, and my exhausted body went limp.

Dac’s hand replaced the wooded paddle, massaging the flesh he’d just severely punished. Initially, I was too stunned, too exhausted to think clearly and my body impulsively spoke for me. The soothing touch of that big black hand on my red-hot cheeks recalled my earlier desire. He grabbed one cheek and shook it hard, then with my legs still held down by that pair of unseen hands, he dropped his thick fingers into the crevice and touched my s****l core. It was aflame with sensation. Before I realized what I was doing, I was twisting on the man’s lap, finding myself unbelievably aroused.

“My dear, you’re just doing fine,” the elegant Mr. Sands kindly oozed a s****l tone around his words. He was at my head, his hand winding through my hair. He tugged enough for me to feel a taut pressure in my scalp. He was taking charge of me; his calculated gesture spoke volumes. “Julio, bring Fawn and Darcy here. There’s something I think our little virgin needs to see.” I tried to control my physical response, but my efforts were futile. I despised myself for reacting like a vulgar slut, but there was no way I could shut down the feelings clamoring for attention in my crotch. As Dac’s fingers played my wet cunt like an instrument, he let the whole crowd know just how juicy I’d become.

“Ah! Exactly as I expected,” Mr. Sands chortled as he let go my hair and moved away.

Two women entered the room with Julio—neither exactly dragged there, but neither looking particularly willing. I watched them from my position over Dac’s lap, until he finally let go of me and shoved me to the floor between his legs where he held me by my hair. At least for the moment, my embarrassing fix became just the sideshow for this bigger event.

Mr. Sands moved in front of the two women, his expression filled with amusement and spite. “Our little Fawn is going to be punished,” he told the room. “Julio, see that she’s bound tight.”

Working quickly, Julio grabbed the girl’s hands—they were already cuffed in leather—and jerked them high above her head, where he fastened them to a thick metal ring that conveniently pulled out of the ceiling.

Fawn was Oriental—her specific nationality unknown to me—perhaps Japanese, I concluded from her petite figure. Her long black hair gleamed like raven feathers, almost iridescent in the warm yellow lamplight. She was dressed in a pink, strapless sheath that was made of clingy cloth. Through the surface of the thin material, it was possible to see her tiny n*****s. Truthfully, there was no significant body part that wasn’t obvious—from her slight breasts, to the inward curve of her waist, to the twin mounds of her behind and the soft rise and fall of her flat stomach as she breathed. Even her pubic mound was distinctly evident, bulging at the apex of her firm thighs. Her eyes, her lips, her cheeks were intensely colored with blue green shadow, red lipstick and mauvy rouge. I thought of the streetwalkers I’d commonly vilified as I hurriedly drove through grimy neighborhoods with my doors locked. In the past, she would have been an easy object of my disgust. But then, observing her on the street, I wouldn’t have seen her face as I saw it that night, the expression of sadness and longing, fear and worry, all summed up by her tiny features in a look of eloquent despair. She awaited the event with genuine resignation, not weakness.

I was in awe of her courage. She didn’t shake or scream or attempt to run away—such bravery. And then the thought occurred to me that maybe part of her wanted what she faced. Could that be possible? A chill shot through my body at this prospect.

In a move I anticipated, Julio jerked the stretchy dress down until the thing fell like a pink pool of cotton candy at her feet. She was naked and unable to hide herself, while her taut body gleamed with a layer of perspiration.

I’d never seen anything quite as lovely as Fawn was then… that strange thought took me by surprise. Goosebumps prickled my arms.

“She’s always closing her thighs when she’s whipped,” Julio informed Mr. Sands, “You want me to use the bar?”

“If you think it’s necessary,” he really didn’t care. But he waited patiently as we all did while Julio turned Fawn’s back to the audience, cuffed her ankles and attached each one to opposite ends of a thick metal bar. Standing again, Julio then tugged on a chain hanging from the ring in the ceiling. Fawn jerked upward, with her spread feet almost rising off the floor. Her muscles tensed from the strain.

I wanted to cry for mercy on her behalf, but I’d lost my power of speech. And even if I could talk, the scene was unfolding with such remarkable speed that I remained too dazed to comprehend it all, let alone comment.

I’d never seen a braided cat ‘o nine tails in my life, but I understood what I was seeing when Julio suddenly appeared with one in his brawny fist. The man was short, not more than five feet eight, but he was powerfully built, with huge shoulders and thick muscles that with any kind of force at all could seriously injure the naked girl.

I saw Fawn stare back over her shoulder. She shuddered as she noticed the cat in Julio’s hand and turned back.

Mr. Sands moved to Fawn’s side and grabbed her long black hair, jerking her head back and down.

“We’re going to show Mrs. Gettys here, what rebellion earns, aren’t we?”

“Yes, sir,” she softly replied.

“Tell her you earned this,” he ordered.

“I wuz bad, very bad girl, and I need punish,” she said in halting English.

Was she honest? Was she brainwashed? I couldn’t tell.

“Tell her how much you want it,” he ordered again, but with a languid sort of s****l urging.

“I like punish, feel nasty, but cunt hot.”

“And then you cum.”

“Yeah, I c*m, sir, preaze.”

“Maybe, slut,” Mr. Sands smiled at her. Then he eyed me, let go her hair and walked off, saying, “Better tie it out of the way.”

That got handled by one of the Chinese businessmen, who grabbed Fawn’s sleek hair, made a thick knot of it toward the end and pulled it over her head, where he attached it to the same hook that bound her wrists.

I’d certainly seen enough by then to insure my compliance with whatever they wanted of me, but Fawn’s torture was only beginning.

“Darcy, my dear,” Mr. Sands called to the other young woman, who remained quietly on the sidelines while Fawn was being bound. She shyly approached, only to be pushed in the direction of my husband, who remained passively sitting in wait. “I think his bride needs a reality check, love. He may look a bit detached for her benefit, but I’ll bet his d**k’s just throbbing for a good time.” With another shove, she was on the floor between George’s feet. While the girl worked his belt and zipper, one of the men had pulled my husband’s arms behind him and out of the way, binding them with rope.

I watched in shocked amazement, my stomach turning sour at the sight of George’s pants opened and the girl’s hand reaching in. I’d never seen George naked, never seen his p***s, erect or flaccid, and never seen him shirtless for that matter. That modest world of my former life seemed no more than a distant memory once this new world was unveiled. George’s fat erection stunned me, and I blushed with embarrassment.

“You catch that?” Sands was standing over me, grabbing my hair again and jerking my head in that direction. “He’s getting off on my Fawn’s debasement, getting off on what he knows is going to happen to you.”

I shook my head in disgust. My husband’s c**k was huge. And Darcy, doing her job like a pro, only made the moment more obscene as her mouth descended over the head of his erection and she began to run her teeth and tongue along the shaft.

“Please, don’t do this,” I mouthed, quietly sobbing.

“You think he’s hurting, girl? If you do, you don’t know your husband very well. Then, I suppose you don’t, virgin that you are.” Mr. Sands wasn’t kind anymore, but mocking me with the vehemence of a sworn enemy. What had I ever done to him? “Long as you’re watching, pay attention to yourself, my lily-white virgin. You may preach abstinence like a Sunday school teacher but you’re as much a w***e as Fawn and Darcy.

“No! I’d never!” I spat back at him.

He laughed, “Oh, you are exactly what I make of you, my pretty plaything,” he replied with a smug grimace.

He turned away, moving all our attention back to Fawn, and Julio, who was poised to begin the whipping.

With a nod from Sands, the man reared back and started flogging the girl, at first with measured strokes, ones even I could see were not particularly painful. But those were just a warm-up. With increasing vigor, Julio whipped the braided leather across the girl’s slight back, across her ass and then her thighs. Her flesh was soon scorched with red, her tender skin blistered and almost broken.

Thinking back, I find it amazing that Fawn remained stoic, especially at the start. She emitted a few muted grunts that were hardly audible, and gave the impression that the whipping was more pleasure than pain. In time, though, I saw her tremble and her muscles tense; and then almost without any warning at all, she began to wail and gasp for air as her entire body shook inside the bondage.

The brutality continued. I wanted to rush to her, release her, drag her away, though the thought was foolish and instantly forgotten—quickly replaced by a secondary desire that floated up from my psyche quite unexpectedly and dispensed with my compassion. This new desire was something baser than I’d ever felt before. I wanted the whipping to continue. I wanted her beaten harder, to hear her cries turn into screams, and watch her body in its anguish get nothing but more pain. I lusted after her writhing form, seeing a strange beauty in her torture. As her backside turned into a mass of raw skin, the blackness in my heart became more thrilled and my body turned into a hungering s****l animal.

The worst cruelty came when the whipping was over, when Julio put down the cat, and Sands gloatingly stalked her. Fawn snuffed, with a deep sob occasionally wracking her body. Almost as if he felt sorry for her, Sands stopped in front of her with his hand moving between her legs. Her despair turned on a dime, transformed by a feeling of pleasure, perhaps, not unlike what I experienced from Dac after he spanked me. Her body seemed to spill free with desire as her moans turned into sensuous gasps. Could it be that she would really climax?

“Ooo, you make me c*m, sir,” the girl seemed close to ecstasy. I could feel it in me—an intoxicating sensation stirring every atom in the room… including those in my sexually inexperienced body.