Bondage story - The Phantom of the Roxy - 56

“Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry,” Jessica whispered.

“The slut is doing just fne,” said the Whisperer harshly from behind her. “She has no home within her for the Darkness, but she responds well to cock. So I’m giving her all the cock she can handle.”

Jessica turned and slowly stood, facing the cloaked madman. She knew what she had to do, and as she walked slowly forward she was flled with wonder that she could even contemplate such a thing.

There was no shame searing her psyche, no sign of guilt rising up to choke her. What the Whisperer had done to her, stripping away her clothes and whipping her naked body before the shocked theater crowds, seemed to have burned away her demons at last.

She sank gracefully to her knees before her master, legs well apart, eyes down, and spoke, her sincerity ringing in her voice. “Master,” she said, “I willingly offer myself to you, to do with as you please. I beg you to let Sarah go, and I will be your slave. Forever, if you wish.”

Her words trembled on the air, their meaning echoing in her mind, flling the long silence that followed. She knew what she had just offered the Whisperer, and it flled her with terror, yet at the same time, it felt right to her. She desperately wished she could know how he was reacting to her tender, heartfelt offer, but she knew she must keep her eyes downcast, as a good slave should.

At last the Whisperer responded. “Long have I waited to hear these words from you, Jessica,” he whispered. “For a time I doubted that I ever would, even though the Darkness promised me that you would eventually be mine. It galls me that you put a condition on your surrender, however. I have not yet decided what I will do with Sarah, but you will belong to me no matter what I choose! My slave will not dictate terms to me!”

Jessica saw the wicked lash of the whip drop into her feld of vision as he drew it forth from inside his vest. It was the same one he had used in the play, she was sure, though she hadn’t seen it clearly then. She shivered as he shook it out. “Kiss my boots!” he rasped. “Show me your obedience!”

Jessica dropped her head quickly, and began kissing the dusty leather boots, knowing full well that her aching bottom was now raised to his whip. She heard the leather hiss through the air a second before the lash struck her left buttock, biting hard and making her yelp in pain. She kept kissing his feet as he rained harsh blows onto her naked up-raised bottom, though each one made her cry out.

To be shown such cruelty after having offered him the ultimate submission brought tears to her eyes. He seemed so angry! But perhaps, she thought, this was merely a test of her subservience. Once he was satisfed, he surely must concede to her condition, and allow Sarah to go free. After all, she knew it was her the Whisperer wanted. He had only taken Sarah because Ira hadn’t obeyed his wishes and given Jessica the lead role in the play. With Jessica in his possession at last, what use could he have for poor Sarah? Abruptly, the Whisperer grabbed her by her hair and yanked her head up. “Give me your hands,” he hissed, and she obeyed instantly. He untied her wrists and then released her. “Crawl for me, Jessica,” he demanded. “Crawl in a circle around me!”

Jessica crawled. The rugs were old and worn, but still soft on her knees and palms. The whip snaked out and cracked against her back, and she jerked and yelped in reaction, but she kept crawling. The whip bit at the arch of her back, the raised globes of her ass, the moving columns of her thighs, even the swaying orbs of her breasts. It stung her everywhere, her master putting a snap into each strike so that it struck much harder than it had onstage. Soon she was sobbing as she crawled, but she didn’t hesitate or try to cover herself. Finally she felt her submission rising, washing over her like a balm, and she welcomed it gratefully. Warmth spread from her loins, and she became aware of the way her labia slid together as she crawled, providing a counterpoint of pleasure to the sharp pain of the whip. Without her being aware of it, she began to crawl slower, her body slipping into a languorous, catlike movement, her hips swaying deeply to increase the friction between her slick lips.

The Whisperer missed nothing. He knew what this change meant, and his eyes narrowed in satisfaction. His cock began to swell inside his tight leggings, responding to the scent of Jessica’s arousal. He whipped her even more cruelly, seeking out her turgid nipples, the under-curve of her lower belly, the soft skin of her inner thighs. She shrieked and cried as she crawled, but he knew the pain of the whip spurred her desire now, as well as her suffering. His own passion rising in response to hers, he soon had an inspiration. “Go to the bed, Jessica,” he commanded.

“Lie on your back in the center of the bed, and gaze up at your blonde friend!”

Jessica obeyed quickly, clambering up onto the luxurious bedspread and sprawling across its expanse, her sweat-slick breasts heaving as she sobbed. Her arms and legs instinctively reached out toward the corners of the bed, spread-eagling herself in a mirror image of Sarah, who stared down from above her, the thick black dildo still plunging slowly, mechanically, deep inside her stretched passage. “Perfect,” said the Whisperer. “Don’t move.” He knelt on the bed beside her, drew back his whip, stretched it taut between his hands, and released it with unerring precision. The lash whizzed out and down, snapping hard against her right nipple. She shrieked in pain, her back arching, but her arms and legs remained stretched out as though they had been tied in place. The whip struck her left nipple with a sharp splat, drawing another desperate cry from her, but still she held her position. As her cruel master continued to lash her tortured breasts, she gazed up at Sarah through the veil of her tears.

Sarah watched Jessica writhe beneath the whip with wide, humid eyes, but showed no reaction to her friend’s pain. It was as though she were watching a movie, or perhaps a scene from a dream. Jessica had no idea how long Sarah had been hanging there with the clockwork dildo thrusting to and fro inside her, but she knew the girl had been in the Whisperer’s clutches for three days. The stripes all over her body attested to the whippings she had endured, and what the Whisperer had said about the actress responding well to cock told her that he had fucked the blonde beauty repeatedly. It wouldn’t be surprising, she realized, if Sarah had slipped into a mental state that made her situation seem unreal to her.

That was all the pondering of Sarah’s condition that Jessica could manage, for the burning lash that tortured her tender breasts shattered her thoughts with each agonizing strike. She grasped handfuls of the thick bedspread tightly in her efforts not to try to cover her tits with her hands, and her body arched and squirmed wildly in the extremity of her suffering. Her breasts bounced and wobbled beneath the onslaught, their surfaces covered now with bright pink whip marks.