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Anya's Farewell Performance, by AnyaN and TheLimey
TheLimey
Governor
She should have known something was up.
It had been a week since "Incel," as she liked to call him, as often as she could, especially to his face and in front of his friends, had "requested" her presence. Sometimes it was like that, though, and in such times she never wondered why. More time for her to enjoy what little freedom she had...
If one considered being guarded 24/7 "freedom."
Sometimes, he would have his goons do things to her over webcam in a private livestream for him and sometimes his friends. She loved to call every single one of them "Incel," followed by a number. She didn't care how many lashes she received or how long she was on the cross suffering an excruciating whipping of her pussy with a wide leather strap. Sometimes, he'd change it up and use a rubber one instead.
Lately, though, a few of his friends had been goating him on to use a fiberglass cane... That, no matter if it struck her thighs, back, ass, pussy, or breasts, all it took was just a few strikes whereever he chose to get her to be as meek as a mouse.
It had been so effective, in fact, that she had never suffered more than five strikes with it. She had suffered it mostly on her thighs and ass, but there were a few key incidents where she had deserved the strikes to her breasts... The first time, she received five strokes on each breast, first one strike to one breast, then one on the other, back and forth. The next time, though, he did five strokes on each breast. There were two more times, both of which resulted in him striking both breasts simultaneously. Still, never more than five strikes, because despite that occasional stubborn streak, these were enough to make her fall in line.
Anna Kyrilovna Smolenskaya was twenty-four years old. For the past four yeas, she was a prisoner. How did this all get started?
All she wanted was to be a great figure skater. She wanted to win, but knew that was a long shot for a Russian lady. At least, while she was growing up. The American ladies, then the Japanese ladies, had a monopoly on medals. Anna wanted to skate well, to be respected for what she did contribute to the sport. She had a versatile artistic style; Rachmaninov and Debussy one year, Miles Davis and James Newton Howard the next. Her social media accounts had a considerable following. She'd been invited to numerous tours and special single-night shows in addition to her competitive aspirations.
It was at a party at the Mayor's when she met the man she now only adressed as "Incel." Again, that was her name for him, not the one he wanted to be called. It also was a name she did not know about until a few years ago, when she learned there were people like him in the world who actually called themselves that, in a love-hate way.
Anna had just won the bronze medal at the Russian National Championships and qualified for the European and World Championships. The mayor of Pskov invited her to a party at his home, wafter a public ceremony where he gave her the customary apartment and car as a gift to honor her success.
"Incel" was, admittedly, handsome and kind. But how many proverbs did Russia have regarding wolves? He preyed on her, and she seemingly had no choice but to accept his "flattery." Not just gifts, but intrusive behavior. He came uninvited to her apartment more and more, and when she came home and found him inside her apartment, well...
He was the Mayor's brother. Virtually untouchable.
She moved to Moscow. He followed her. She gave in rather quickly, allowing him to take charge of her entire life. No more friends, no more school, no more anything, except what he said, and he approved of.
She wasn't entirely powerless, however. She managed to convince him to let her make her own decisions regarding her training, and he would control her off the ice.
It was an agonizing "compromise." She wanted out. Desperately. She'd run away several times over the years. Most of the time, she was caught within hours. She was even intercepted when, during the Russian Test Skate in 2022, she managed to get help from a fellow skater, a man named Valery Zukov. He went with her to the train station, and planned for her to go to Arkangelsk, where she'd get a ferry and go to a small village. She hoped after a while, "Incel" would give up and move on. But she never made it onto the train.
After that, she had to beg for Valery's life, and promised never to try to escape again. From then on, she was guarded at all skating events. She saw Valery again in passing. Their eyes would meet, but they never spoke again.
After a while, Anna learned to accept her situation. But that certainly did not mean that she allowed herself to be used sexually. It often took quite a bit of coercion to get her to comply with his demands on that regard. She had no problem doing any chores or giving special performances, skating, ballet, and gymnastics, for him and his friends. Of course, she rather enjoyed those times. An audience was an audience, after all, and she never had to be persuaded to take the spotlight in those cases.
It was her refusal to engage in sex that aroused Incel's wrath the most. Often times, she would taunt him, even during his infamous punishments, that the only way he could have a woman was by forcing her. When he ordered her to be with his friends, she said the same thing to to them. That was when he started using the fiberglass cane. He couldn't stand to be humiliated, especially in front of his friends, and he would not tolerate such a smart mouth giving insults to them either. He also would display her on a fucking machine for all to see, taunting her that if she wouldn't fuck him or his friends, she would be fucked by the machine.
She told him repeatedly that she was asexual, and not interested in sex with anyone. That's not to say that she didn't experience ecstasy, but she could live her entire life without it, as she put it many times to him. She wasn't sure whether to find it humorous or frustrating that he never acknowledged that such tendencies existed. He said many times that he would "cure her" of that. Of course, she often replied, with a smirk, that she was still waiting.
Over the last month, though, he had been seeing called for her less and less. The guards were still around, but the worst she would receive was an occasional lashing just to remind her of her situation. She was intelligent enough to know that he liked a whipping twice a week. Once from his goons, the other from him. No two days of the week were the same, and neither were the times in which they occured. Many times, she would still be sore from one lashing and be lashed again, worse, the very next day.
No matter what he did to her, though, she always seemed to be in a good enough physical and psychological strength to endure it. She'd even begun to predict his moves, his moods, know his requests before he asked for them, so that her punishments were fewer and farther between.
But he never let up on the sex.
Anna did her best to leave these woes behind when she trained. It was such a part of her that she really could block his entire existence, even the existence of her "bodyguards," out. Even if she did practice at his private rink, and work out in his private gym, and his private little ballet studio.
She was doing an improvised performance on the balance beam, combining some of her skating footwork with her usual gymnastics. "Despacito" was playing over the loudspeaker.
It had been a week since "Incel," as she liked to call him, as often as she could, especially to his face and in front of his friends, had "requested" her presence. Sometimes it was like that, though, and in such times she never wondered why. More time for her to enjoy what little freedom she had...
If one considered being guarded 24/7 "freedom."
Sometimes, he would have his goons do things to her over webcam in a private livestream for him and sometimes his friends. She loved to call every single one of them "Incel," followed by a number. She didn't care how many lashes she received or how long she was on the cross suffering an excruciating whipping of her pussy with a wide leather strap. Sometimes, he'd change it up and use a rubber one instead.
Lately, though, a few of his friends had been goating him on to use a fiberglass cane... That, no matter if it struck her thighs, back, ass, pussy, or breasts, all it took was just a few strikes whereever he chose to get her to be as meek as a mouse.
It had been so effective, in fact, that she had never suffered more than five strikes with it. She had suffered it mostly on her thighs and ass, but there were a few key incidents where she had deserved the strikes to her breasts... The first time, she received five strokes on each breast, first one strike to one breast, then one on the other, back and forth. The next time, though, he did five strokes on each breast. There were two more times, both of which resulted in him striking both breasts simultaneously. Still, never more than five strikes, because despite that occasional stubborn streak, these were enough to make her fall in line.
Anna Kyrilovna Smolenskaya was twenty-four years old. For the past four yeas, she was a prisoner. How did this all get started?
All she wanted was to be a great figure skater. She wanted to win, but knew that was a long shot for a Russian lady. At least, while she was growing up. The American ladies, then the Japanese ladies, had a monopoly on medals. Anna wanted to skate well, to be respected for what she did contribute to the sport. She had a versatile artistic style; Rachmaninov and Debussy one year, Miles Davis and James Newton Howard the next. Her social media accounts had a considerable following. She'd been invited to numerous tours and special single-night shows in addition to her competitive aspirations.
It was at a party at the Mayor's when she met the man she now only adressed as "Incel." Again, that was her name for him, not the one he wanted to be called. It also was a name she did not know about until a few years ago, when she learned there were people like him in the world who actually called themselves that, in a love-hate way.
Anna had just won the bronze medal at the Russian National Championships and qualified for the European and World Championships. The mayor of Pskov invited her to a party at his home, wafter a public ceremony where he gave her the customary apartment and car as a gift to honor her success.
"Incel" was, admittedly, handsome and kind. But how many proverbs did Russia have regarding wolves? He preyed on her, and she seemingly had no choice but to accept his "flattery." Not just gifts, but intrusive behavior. He came uninvited to her apartment more and more, and when she came home and found him inside her apartment, well...
He was the Mayor's brother. Virtually untouchable.
She moved to Moscow. He followed her. She gave in rather quickly, allowing him to take charge of her entire life. No more friends, no more school, no more anything, except what he said, and he approved of.
She wasn't entirely powerless, however. She managed to convince him to let her make her own decisions regarding her training, and he would control her off the ice.
It was an agonizing "compromise." She wanted out. Desperately. She'd run away several times over the years. Most of the time, she was caught within hours. She was even intercepted when, during the Russian Test Skate in 2022, she managed to get help from a fellow skater, a man named Valery Zukov. He went with her to the train station, and planned for her to go to Arkangelsk, where she'd get a ferry and go to a small village. She hoped after a while, "Incel" would give up and move on. But she never made it onto the train.
After that, she had to beg for Valery's life, and promised never to try to escape again. From then on, she was guarded at all skating events. She saw Valery again in passing. Their eyes would meet, but they never spoke again.
After a while, Anna learned to accept her situation. But that certainly did not mean that she allowed herself to be used sexually. It often took quite a bit of coercion to get her to comply with his demands on that regard. She had no problem doing any chores or giving special performances, skating, ballet, and gymnastics, for him and his friends. Of course, she rather enjoyed those times. An audience was an audience, after all, and she never had to be persuaded to take the spotlight in those cases.
It was her refusal to engage in sex that aroused Incel's wrath the most. Often times, she would taunt him, even during his infamous punishments, that the only way he could have a woman was by forcing her. When he ordered her to be with his friends, she said the same thing to to them. That was when he started using the fiberglass cane. He couldn't stand to be humiliated, especially in front of his friends, and he would not tolerate such a smart mouth giving insults to them either. He also would display her on a fucking machine for all to see, taunting her that if she wouldn't fuck him or his friends, she would be fucked by the machine.
She told him repeatedly that she was asexual, and not interested in sex with anyone. That's not to say that she didn't experience ecstasy, but she could live her entire life without it, as she put it many times to him. She wasn't sure whether to find it humorous or frustrating that he never acknowledged that such tendencies existed. He said many times that he would "cure her" of that. Of course, she often replied, with a smirk, that she was still waiting.
Over the last month, though, he had been seeing called for her less and less. The guards were still around, but the worst she would receive was an occasional lashing just to remind her of her situation. She was intelligent enough to know that he liked a whipping twice a week. Once from his goons, the other from him. No two days of the week were the same, and neither were the times in which they occured. Many times, she would still be sore from one lashing and be lashed again, worse, the very next day.
No matter what he did to her, though, she always seemed to be in a good enough physical and psychological strength to endure it. She'd even begun to predict his moves, his moods, know his requests before he asked for them, so that her punishments were fewer and farther between.
But he never let up on the sex.
Anna did her best to leave these woes behind when she trained. It was such a part of her that she really could block his entire existence, even the existence of her "bodyguards," out. Even if she did practice at his private rink, and work out in his private gym, and his private little ballet studio.
She was doing an improvised performance on the balance beam, combining some of her skating footwork with her usual gymnastics. "Despacito" was playing over the loudspeaker.
TheLimey
Governor
Anna dismounted from the beam at the end of the song, and brushed the chalk off her hands. It was then that she noticed one of Incel's goons was stood by the door, holding a bag with the name of one of the high end boutiques in Moscow.
She had become used to the idea that she was being watched at all times after her attempted escape, but usually, when she trained, this was done via closed circuit camera systems. She suspected that there was quite a trade amongst the guards in pirated footage of working out in the gym, or performing lengths in the pool. To have a guard actually enter the gym whilst she using it could only mean one thing. He wanted to see her.
'Am I being summoned?
'Da. You are to put these on.' he tossed the bag across the floor towards her.
'Do I have time to shower?'
'Nyet. I am to bring you to the boss now.'
Incel liked doing this to her, it was one of his games, to summon her and not give her time to even towel off. Without opening the bag, she could already guess that the outfit inside would be something more suited for a nightclub than the ballet.
'Can I at least go to the changing room to get dressed?'
'Nyet...'
Anna sighed. A subtle form of humiliation again. She was certain this would be a long session today.
-*-
If anything, the outfit was worse than she expected. The dress was a halter top design in black, plunging deeply between her breasts, and leaving most of her back uncovered.The skirt section didn't reach her knees, and a slit up the right hand side reached mid hip. Naturally for the incel, no underwear was in the bag. The final part of the outfit was a pair of black leather heels, around 4". She was glad when they reached the car, and she could remove the things whilst she sat in the back seat, while the goon drove.
The car, a high end Mercedes, was soon speeding away from the center of Moscow, and from the route they were taking, Anna knew they were heading to his dacha, his retreat outside of Moscow. She shuddered slightly. In Moscow itself, Incel had to be more restrained in what he did to her. Out in the countryside, far away from prying eyes, is where he could do his worst.
The Mercedes are up the miles quickly, even more so when the guard hopped onto one of the special roads, reserved for Government Officials and those in favour with the leadership of the country. Even so, it was close to evening when the car drew up inside the perimeter of the compound.
A second Goon, opened the door to her. 'You are to wait in his Library.'
Anna didn't wait to see if the guard was going to follow her. She exited the car, and made her way out of the garage and into the dacha itself, her heels clicking on the polished wooden floors that ran throughout the place.
Incel was probably in his office, wheeling and dealing his way around the sanctions he had recently been placed under.by the EU and US Governments. The situation had complicated his businesses, and he had overheard him complaining about the additional costs of having to deal with shippers who had experience in sanction busting.
The Library was Incel's pretence at education and refinement. In a way she was an extension to that same pretence. Books in English, Russian, French, many of them antique first editions. She didn't like the place. It smelt musty, of pages disintegrating with time. The center of the room had a large antique desk, that he liked to say had been used by Beria at one time. One one side of the desk was a large overstuffed armchair, high backed, reserved for him.
She had her own chair on the far side of the desk from the armchair. A simple wooden chair, no cushioning, and when she reached the library, she entered, closed the door behind her, and sat in the chair, scanning the far wall to see if there were any new books on the shelves. She had sat here so many times that she almost knew his collection off by heart.
She hadn't been sat there too long when she heard the door open and close behind her.
'Good Evening, Anna Kyrilovna Smolenskaya.'
The Incel had arrived.
She had become used to the idea that she was being watched at all times after her attempted escape, but usually, when she trained, this was done via closed circuit camera systems. She suspected that there was quite a trade amongst the guards in pirated footage of working out in the gym, or performing lengths in the pool. To have a guard actually enter the gym whilst she using it could only mean one thing. He wanted to see her.
'Am I being summoned?
'Da. You are to put these on.' he tossed the bag across the floor towards her.
'Do I have time to shower?'
'Nyet. I am to bring you to the boss now.'
Incel liked doing this to her, it was one of his games, to summon her and not give her time to even towel off. Without opening the bag, she could already guess that the outfit inside would be something more suited for a nightclub than the ballet.
'Can I at least go to the changing room to get dressed?'
'Nyet...'
Anna sighed. A subtle form of humiliation again. She was certain this would be a long session today.
-*-
If anything, the outfit was worse than she expected. The dress was a halter top design in black, plunging deeply between her breasts, and leaving most of her back uncovered.The skirt section didn't reach her knees, and a slit up the right hand side reached mid hip. Naturally for the incel, no underwear was in the bag. The final part of the outfit was a pair of black leather heels, around 4". She was glad when they reached the car, and she could remove the things whilst she sat in the back seat, while the goon drove.
The car, a high end Mercedes, was soon speeding away from the center of Moscow, and from the route they were taking, Anna knew they were heading to his dacha, his retreat outside of Moscow. She shuddered slightly. In Moscow itself, Incel had to be more restrained in what he did to her. Out in the countryside, far away from prying eyes, is where he could do his worst.
The Mercedes are up the miles quickly, even more so when the guard hopped onto one of the special roads, reserved for Government Officials and those in favour with the leadership of the country. Even so, it was close to evening when the car drew up inside the perimeter of the compound.
A second Goon, opened the door to her. 'You are to wait in his Library.'
Anna didn't wait to see if the guard was going to follow her. She exited the car, and made her way out of the garage and into the dacha itself, her heels clicking on the polished wooden floors that ran throughout the place.
Incel was probably in his office, wheeling and dealing his way around the sanctions he had recently been placed under.by the EU and US Governments. The situation had complicated his businesses, and he had overheard him complaining about the additional costs of having to deal with shippers who had experience in sanction busting.
The Library was Incel's pretence at education and refinement. In a way she was an extension to that same pretence. Books in English, Russian, French, many of them antique first editions. She didn't like the place. It smelt musty, of pages disintegrating with time. The center of the room had a large antique desk, that he liked to say had been used by Beria at one time. One one side of the desk was a large overstuffed armchair, high backed, reserved for him.
She had her own chair on the far side of the desk from the armchair. A simple wooden chair, no cushioning, and when she reached the library, she entered, closed the door behind her, and sat in the chair, scanning the far wall to see if there were any new books on the shelves. She had sat here so many times that she almost knew his collection off by heart.
She hadn't been sat there too long when she heard the door open and close behind her.
'Good Evening, Anna Kyrilovna Smolenskaya.'
The Incel had arrived.
TheLimey
Governor
Anna smirked and rocked back in her chair, carefully balancing herself on the back two legs. She casually brought up her right leg, her dominant leg, and crossed it over herself. He only addressed her this formally when pain was in store. At least he would know how little it meant to her whether he would punish her for this particular insolence, which he would.
"What d'you want?" she asked casually, as though speaking to a stranger on the street who had asked her what time it was.
He took a deep breath, and Anna could see that he was offended, but chose not to address it right then. They both knew she'd be punished further for that soon enough.
"I hope you didn't train too hard today, kotka," he said coolly.
Anna rolled her eyes and snorted in response. "Kitten" was for romantic partners and children. She was neither.
"I've got my quad flip down," she said, as though in a formal interview with a media outlet. "I did twenty today. Next month, I'll focus on the Lutz."
He chuckled softly and shook his head slightly. He never took his eyes off of hers.
"No you won't."
"Go to the Devil," Anna snapped. "You can't tell me what to work on and when. That's my department. Exclusively."
"You won't be working on anything ever again," he said matter-of-factly.
Anna flinched. She took a small breath. "The only way you'll keep me from my work is if I'm dead."
"Or lost," he said with a slight shrug.
Anna frowned. There were plenty of remote places in the world. It was very easy to lose someone, easier than she used to think.
"What do you want?" she asked more seriously, and more quietly. She sat straight and uncrossed her legs.
He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. "You keep saying you are 'asexual.' We both know there is no such thing in nature. Sex is. One can not, and must not, abstain from it."
"You and your friends have screwed me enough to know that I don't avoid sex just because I am asexual." Anna glared at him.
More words worth suffering for, but she didn't care. If this was to be their last time together, she'd suffer as much as he wanted anyway. What difference did a few more lashes make, or a few more hours of suspension?
Again, he kept his cool. "Yet you refuse to express gratification, or gratitude for that matter. You have given us much satisfaction these past few years. I was certain that by now, you would have expressed something. Yet your insolence and arrogance is almost as bad as your delusion. I've come to a decision. This will be the last time you ever see me."
Anna paused, unsure whether to celebrate or not, but his threat from earlier... about being lost... kept her from jumping to conclusions. She knew who he was, and who his friends were, and moreover she had seen "Volodya" himself at many of their parties. He even attended her exhibition in Beijing in February of 2022, and not the one she had on the ice either.
"So tonight, I am going to bid you farewell, in the manner that you deserve."
She shuddered and gulped. Suddenly, her mouth was very dry. "You're going to kill me."
His response, or rather, lack of one, surprised her. He made no move, no gesture, his face didn't even change in the slightest. Normally, when she was right about something, he would gloat, or be annoyed, depending on the situation. It was when he had something different up his sleeve that he got like this.
"You're of no value dead," he finally said. "You will suffer one last session under me, and then I'll bid you farewell with a nice fuck. After that, I will wash my hands of you."
Anna's throat tightened. Again, she gulped, and nodded slightly. "And what do you have in store for this 'farewell party?'"
"You'll suffer a lashing, of course, with the fiberglass cane."
He waited and watched her openly shudder.
"Of course, the number of lashes may be lessened, if you choose two other whips to use in their place. You recall that after the last time, you made such a request. I decided I can give you this last one as a farewell courtesy. Of course, also according to our bargain, you will be limited to the selection I present to you. And if you delay-"
"You'll choose four whips from that selection," Anna said emotionlessly.
"Precisely."
Anna slowly closed her eyes and struggled to steady her breathing. Already her hands were trembling. She hated this "bargain."
"I'll have you suspended as well," he continued. "Among other things."
She winced in pain. The memory of those hours, those countless hours, where she would be hung, sometimes by her wrists, sometimes by her ankles, haunted her for weeks after each session.
No doubt it would be combined with the lashing, as always...
"And of course," he continued, "since you find my cock so distasteful, the machine will give you what you deserve."
Now, Anna couldn't help but squeak out a whimper. Fast or slow, thick dildos or thin, it was always a painful experience that would last for hours. He would see to it that she felt pain every moment, forcing her to plead for release from the device so that he could fuck her himself, and he'd waste no time in doing so.
She gulped again. "How long will this... session... last?"
She was certain she could last the night with what he had said was in store.
"What d'you want?" she asked casually, as though speaking to a stranger on the street who had asked her what time it was.
He took a deep breath, and Anna could see that he was offended, but chose not to address it right then. They both knew she'd be punished further for that soon enough.
"I hope you didn't train too hard today, kotka," he said coolly.
Anna rolled her eyes and snorted in response. "Kitten" was for romantic partners and children. She was neither.
"I've got my quad flip down," she said, as though in a formal interview with a media outlet. "I did twenty today. Next month, I'll focus on the Lutz."
He chuckled softly and shook his head slightly. He never took his eyes off of hers.
"No you won't."
"Go to the Devil," Anna snapped. "You can't tell me what to work on and when. That's my department. Exclusively."
"You won't be working on anything ever again," he said matter-of-factly.
Anna flinched. She took a small breath. "The only way you'll keep me from my work is if I'm dead."
"Or lost," he said with a slight shrug.
Anna frowned. There were plenty of remote places in the world. It was very easy to lose someone, easier than she used to think.
"What do you want?" she asked more seriously, and more quietly. She sat straight and uncrossed her legs.
He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. "You keep saying you are 'asexual.' We both know there is no such thing in nature. Sex is. One can not, and must not, abstain from it."
"You and your friends have screwed me enough to know that I don't avoid sex just because I am asexual." Anna glared at him.
More words worth suffering for, but she didn't care. If this was to be their last time together, she'd suffer as much as he wanted anyway. What difference did a few more lashes make, or a few more hours of suspension?
Again, he kept his cool. "Yet you refuse to express gratification, or gratitude for that matter. You have given us much satisfaction these past few years. I was certain that by now, you would have expressed something. Yet your insolence and arrogance is almost as bad as your delusion. I've come to a decision. This will be the last time you ever see me."
Anna paused, unsure whether to celebrate or not, but his threat from earlier... about being lost... kept her from jumping to conclusions. She knew who he was, and who his friends were, and moreover she had seen "Volodya" himself at many of their parties. He even attended her exhibition in Beijing in February of 2022, and not the one she had on the ice either.
"So tonight, I am going to bid you farewell, in the manner that you deserve."
She shuddered and gulped. Suddenly, her mouth was very dry. "You're going to kill me."
His response, or rather, lack of one, surprised her. He made no move, no gesture, his face didn't even change in the slightest. Normally, when she was right about something, he would gloat, or be annoyed, depending on the situation. It was when he had something different up his sleeve that he got like this.
"You're of no value dead," he finally said. "You will suffer one last session under me, and then I'll bid you farewell with a nice fuck. After that, I will wash my hands of you."
Anna's throat tightened. Again, she gulped, and nodded slightly. "And what do you have in store for this 'farewell party?'"
"You'll suffer a lashing, of course, with the fiberglass cane."
He waited and watched her openly shudder.
"Of course, the number of lashes may be lessened, if you choose two other whips to use in their place. You recall that after the last time, you made such a request. I decided I can give you this last one as a farewell courtesy. Of course, also according to our bargain, you will be limited to the selection I present to you. And if you delay-"
"You'll choose four whips from that selection," Anna said emotionlessly.
"Precisely."
Anna slowly closed her eyes and struggled to steady her breathing. Already her hands were trembling. She hated this "bargain."
"I'll have you suspended as well," he continued. "Among other things."
She winced in pain. The memory of those hours, those countless hours, where she would be hung, sometimes by her wrists, sometimes by her ankles, haunted her for weeks after each session.
No doubt it would be combined with the lashing, as always...
"And of course," he continued, "since you find my cock so distasteful, the machine will give you what you deserve."
Now, Anna couldn't help but squeak out a whimper. Fast or slow, thick dildos or thin, it was always a painful experience that would last for hours. He would see to it that she felt pain every moment, forcing her to plead for release from the device so that he could fuck her himself, and he'd waste no time in doing so.
She gulped again. "How long will this... session... last?"
She was certain she could last the night with what he had said was in store.
TheLimey
Governor
The Incel leaned forward, and Anna could smell the vodka on his breath.
'I wish I could make your final stay here last days, but I need to be Sochi in two days time. Perhaps I should leave you here with a few guards?'
Anna shuddered, and recalled a particularly bad session, where Incel had had her tied to bed, and after whipping her, had retreated to an armchair whilst his guards took turn after turn using her mouth and pussy.
'No. Unfortunately, you need to be somewhere else in two days, so you only have, 'he glanced at his Rolex, '12 hours to endure.'
Incel called out for a guard, who Anna realized must have been waiting outside the door.
'Dimitri, take this whore downstairs.'
The guard roughly grabbed Anna, forcing her to stand by grabbing her left wrist and swinging it up between her shoulder blades. It wasn't the pain that made her cry out, but the suddenness of it all, but the Incel laughed as he heard it.
'Save your breath, Anya. You'll need it.'
-*-
The guard frogmarched Anna out of the room, and towards the elevator in the center of the building. She could do nothing but obey, stumbling in her heels until thankfully they fell off.
Downstairs. She knew what her first ordeal would be now. Incel had built extensive high vaulted wine cellars into the dacha, and he liked using one of them when he suspended her. The knowledge brought her out in a cold sweat. She remembered one session in particular. The cellar had been cold, so the guards had set up propane heaters to keep things from getting too cold. Incel had had the heaters arranged around her as she hung, waiting until she was slick with sweat before he whipped her.
What she wasn't expecting to see was a set of asymmetric bars in the middle of the cellar, but there it was, lit by spotlights. She could see two sets of handcuffs positioned on the highest bar, and she knew sge would soon be hanging from the open half of each cuff. Under the shorter of the two bars was a folding table, covered by a cloth, and she suspected that the whips and canes would be under there, ready for use once she had made her choice.
There was no point in struggling against the goon, that would just make things worse later on, so she set a blank expression on her face, not betraying anything to Dimitri as he first stripped her, then had her mount a small stool under the tall bar, whilst he worked on closing the cuffs around her wrists.
She did gasp when he finally kicked the stool away, the drop pulling suddenly on the muscles in her arms and shoulders.Then she hung there, toes tantalizingly close to, but not touching the floor, her arms above her head and held apart by about a meter. She could feel the stretch already, but she knew from past experience that she would start to feel the pain for at least 20 minutes, given the extensive gymnastics training she had. He knew this as well, so she was certain it would be at least that long until Incel turned up to start things off for real.
The guard left, flicking a series of light switches by the entrance, leaving the cellar in darkness, apart from the series of spotlights illuminating the bars, and Anna.
-*-
She didn't know how long she hung there until.she noticed he had come in, but it had been considerably more than twenty minutes, from the dull ache in her shoulders. The cuffs were starting to bite at her wrists now as well, and the pain and the heat from the spot lights were making her sweat, trickles running down her ribs from her armpits.
She set her face into the blank mask she tried to wear, and let some defiance into her voice.
'Are you hear to stare, or have you something to do?'
Incel chuckled. 'I'm going to beat that insolence out of you once and for all, whore.'
He pulled the cloth from the table, and Anna focused on what was revealed. A display of whips, floggers, and crops, grouped in what she figured out was degrees of severity. Besides each grouping was a set of pink cards, something she had never seen before.
'It is time for your choice, Anna. I have added a little something for spice. The cards are there to modify how many strokes from the fiberglass cane you get.'
He picked up a card from the bottom set of cards, next to the floggers. 'These are much easier on you, so naturally, they affect the cane in a certain way.'
He flipped the card in his fat fingers, showing a 'x2' symbol. He picked up a card from the top rank of whips, next to a leather single tail. 'These will be hard, so these will affect the cane in the other direction.' He flipped this card, showing a '/2' symbol.
He put the cards down, then reached for the card that sat by the fiberglass cane. 'Here is the number of strokes you will receive, if you choose nothing.'
Anna breathed in sharply as she saw the number 20 on the card. 20! She'd never received that number of strokes before.
'Do you wish to choose two further whips?'
She swallowed and licked dry lips. 'Yes...'
'You have a minute.'
Anna thought quickly. She hated the fibre glass cane, so she knew she needed to reduce the number of strokes. 'I will choose the single tail.'
Incel smiled, and Anna knew she had fallen into a trap. She'd lost track of the two cards that he had showed her. He flipped the top card from the top deck.
'x2...that is 40 strokes of the cane!'
She couldn't help herself. 'Cheating Bastard!'
'For that insult, I will choose one additional whip!'' He looked over the table. 'I think this one..' He reached for a flogger from the middle row, a wicked looking thing with a wooden handle and what looked like barbed wire strands for the tails. 'A friend sent me this. An Englishman. Do you know that flogging is known as the 'English Vice?' They are very clever. These strands are all rubber, even the barbs.'
'You still have one whip to choose... And only 10 seconds left to choose it...'
Anna stared at the table.. She didn't trust the cards at all...
'Five seconds..'
'The crop....I choose the crop!' Incel smiled again, and flipped a card.
'You are lucky this time..minus 5. So this is 35 strokes of the cane!' He put the card down and grabbed the barbed wire flogger. 'We will start with this.'
He swung it, once, twice, feeling the weight, and moved behind Anna. 'I am told it hurts like the Devil.'
'20 strokes, I think. You will count each one, loudly and clearly. If you mumble, or forget, I start again...'
Anna steeled herself, and then the first stroke exploded across her arse.
'I wish I could make your final stay here last days, but I need to be Sochi in two days time. Perhaps I should leave you here with a few guards?'
Anna shuddered, and recalled a particularly bad session, where Incel had had her tied to bed, and after whipping her, had retreated to an armchair whilst his guards took turn after turn using her mouth and pussy.
'No. Unfortunately, you need to be somewhere else in two days, so you only have, 'he glanced at his Rolex, '12 hours to endure.'
Incel called out for a guard, who Anna realized must have been waiting outside the door.
'Dimitri, take this whore downstairs.'
The guard roughly grabbed Anna, forcing her to stand by grabbing her left wrist and swinging it up between her shoulder blades. It wasn't the pain that made her cry out, but the suddenness of it all, but the Incel laughed as he heard it.
'Save your breath, Anya. You'll need it.'
-*-
The guard frogmarched Anna out of the room, and towards the elevator in the center of the building. She could do nothing but obey, stumbling in her heels until thankfully they fell off.
Downstairs. She knew what her first ordeal would be now. Incel had built extensive high vaulted wine cellars into the dacha, and he liked using one of them when he suspended her. The knowledge brought her out in a cold sweat. She remembered one session in particular. The cellar had been cold, so the guards had set up propane heaters to keep things from getting too cold. Incel had had the heaters arranged around her as she hung, waiting until she was slick with sweat before he whipped her.
What she wasn't expecting to see was a set of asymmetric bars in the middle of the cellar, but there it was, lit by spotlights. She could see two sets of handcuffs positioned on the highest bar, and she knew sge would soon be hanging from the open half of each cuff. Under the shorter of the two bars was a folding table, covered by a cloth, and she suspected that the whips and canes would be under there, ready for use once she had made her choice.
There was no point in struggling against the goon, that would just make things worse later on, so she set a blank expression on her face, not betraying anything to Dimitri as he first stripped her, then had her mount a small stool under the tall bar, whilst he worked on closing the cuffs around her wrists.
She did gasp when he finally kicked the stool away, the drop pulling suddenly on the muscles in her arms and shoulders.Then she hung there, toes tantalizingly close to, but not touching the floor, her arms above her head and held apart by about a meter. She could feel the stretch already, but she knew from past experience that she would start to feel the pain for at least 20 minutes, given the extensive gymnastics training she had. He knew this as well, so she was certain it would be at least that long until Incel turned up to start things off for real.
The guard left, flicking a series of light switches by the entrance, leaving the cellar in darkness, apart from the series of spotlights illuminating the bars, and Anna.
-*-
She didn't know how long she hung there until.she noticed he had come in, but it had been considerably more than twenty minutes, from the dull ache in her shoulders. The cuffs were starting to bite at her wrists now as well, and the pain and the heat from the spot lights were making her sweat, trickles running down her ribs from her armpits.
She set her face into the blank mask she tried to wear, and let some defiance into her voice.
'Are you hear to stare, or have you something to do?'
Incel chuckled. 'I'm going to beat that insolence out of you once and for all, whore.'
He pulled the cloth from the table, and Anna focused on what was revealed. A display of whips, floggers, and crops, grouped in what she figured out was degrees of severity. Besides each grouping was a set of pink cards, something she had never seen before.
'It is time for your choice, Anna. I have added a little something for spice. The cards are there to modify how many strokes from the fiberglass cane you get.'
He picked up a card from the bottom set of cards, next to the floggers. 'These are much easier on you, so naturally, they affect the cane in a certain way.'
He flipped the card in his fat fingers, showing a 'x2' symbol. He picked up a card from the top rank of whips, next to a leather single tail. 'These will be hard, so these will affect the cane in the other direction.' He flipped this card, showing a '/2' symbol.
He put the cards down, then reached for the card that sat by the fiberglass cane. 'Here is the number of strokes you will receive, if you choose nothing.'
Anna breathed in sharply as she saw the number 20 on the card. 20! She'd never received that number of strokes before.
'Do you wish to choose two further whips?'
She swallowed and licked dry lips. 'Yes...'
'You have a minute.'
Anna thought quickly. She hated the fibre glass cane, so she knew she needed to reduce the number of strokes. 'I will choose the single tail.'
Incel smiled, and Anna knew she had fallen into a trap. She'd lost track of the two cards that he had showed her. He flipped the top card from the top deck.
'x2...that is 40 strokes of the cane!'
She couldn't help herself. 'Cheating Bastard!'
'For that insult, I will choose one additional whip!'' He looked over the table. 'I think this one..' He reached for a flogger from the middle row, a wicked looking thing with a wooden handle and what looked like barbed wire strands for the tails. 'A friend sent me this. An Englishman. Do you know that flogging is known as the 'English Vice?' They are very clever. These strands are all rubber, even the barbs.'
'You still have one whip to choose... And only 10 seconds left to choose it...'
Anna stared at the table.. She didn't trust the cards at all...
'Five seconds..'
'The crop....I choose the crop!' Incel smiled again, and flipped a card.
'You are lucky this time..minus 5. So this is 35 strokes of the cane!' He put the card down and grabbed the barbed wire flogger. 'We will start with this.'
He swung it, once, twice, feeling the weight, and moved behind Anna. 'I am told it hurts like the Devil.'
'20 strokes, I think. You will count each one, loudly and clearly. If you mumble, or forget, I start again...'
Anna steeled herself, and then the first stroke exploded across her arse.
thecuriousone
Governor
Hmmmm.....this story distracts me from other things.
TheLimey
Governor
This was a new whip to her. She'd never felt, or seen, anything like it. It actually frightened her. There was not much in Incel's possession that did, but when he explained that it was rubber, she relaxed a bit.
How bad can it be?
She gasped at the pain when the first stroke landed, but otherwise...
She was silent. And still.
Another stroke, this one in the exact same spot as the previous one. Another gasp, and this time her muscles tensed. The thin, jagged strands hurt more than she expected, and to strike in the exact same place as before caused more pain.
But still, no sound or word came out of her mouth.
"Ha!" she was shocked to hear herself when the third stroke struck her directly in the back of her left knee. Unable to resist, she brought her leg back, and was rewarded by a strike directly on the sole of her foot. A high-pitched shriek burst from her, but it was short, and it was only slightly louder than her previous soft outburst.
Her right hip was next, then her the back of her left thigh. Soon enough, she was panting, and softly moaned in between the strikes. The moans were short, only lasting long enough for her to take another short breath. At first, she realized Incel was working with a rhythm on purpose: Strike, pant, moan, pant, strike, pant, moan, pant... She doubted he could hear her moans, but he obviously was timing his strokes for some kind of response.
She really didn't know how many lashes he was giving her. Despite his order, she never counted her strokes...
In past situations like this, Anna would have broken eventually, after suffering who knew how many lashes, before finally calling the number out, starting from "odin." But this was their last night. She was determined never to give Incel the satisfaction of making her keep track of her own punishment. He may be throwing her away after this, but he would always remember that she spent the very last night in unspeakable agony, literally.
The strikes on her shoulder blades, particularly the three directly under the edge of each, were the most painful yet. Her body trembled after each one, and she whimpered several times while the lashing continued. The moans grew louder and longer. The middle of her spine, the small of her back, her left hip, all brought out more and more from her...
But still not a single number escaped her lips.
Nor did a single scream.
The whip struck the back of her right knee, which had been untouched since the session began. She pulled at the cuffs and threw her head back, bellowing a long, high-pitched squeal. Her body wriggled in what she knew was a futile attempt to get away, but instinct drove her to it. Unfazed, Incel struck her left hip again. This time, some of the tails wrapped around and struck her torso, and other tails struck-
"Yaaaieeeeeeee!" The shrill cry burst from her at the first touch of her pubic area. This was nothing like she'd felt before. She sobbed and panted, almost in disbelief.
She honestly wasn't sure what was worse at the moment, the fiberglass cane, or this barbaric thing. Her writhing only increased in desperation. Her legs spread, again on instinct, struggling to find some phantom platform on which to stand...
Exactly what Incel was waiting for. Wasting no time, he thrust the tails upward with a sharpshooter's aim. The tails hit their mark effortlessly, some striking her upper thighs, but most-
"Yaaaaaeeeeeahhhhhhhhh!"
That did it. It was worse than the dreaded cane which Incel knew she feared so much. This thing, down there?
She clamped her legs together, determined, as she panted and trembled, not to give Incel that opportunity again.
Another strike to her left hip. He seemed to be criss-crossing the other strikes, and going directly over some of the previous ones.
"Oooooohhhhhh!"
Anna felt the tails strike her pubic area again in this strike. Her muscles tensed and her vision blurred with tears, mixed with sweat from her forehead. She gulped for air, but now she was sobbing in between her gulps. She didn't think it was possible, but it seemed like she was sweating more with the stress and pain of the position her body was in, and the whip.
Four more criss-crossing strokes to her left hip just like the others, all having the side effect of some of the tails hitting her stomach and pubic area. She screamed and jerked her legs up and against her exposed torso. She looked like she was going to do a cannonball spin, if she were on the ice.
But all this did was to provide Incel with another perfect opportunity. The next lash struck her on the bony part of her ass, and covered both sides simultaneously.
"Rrrrrrrr!" Anna's teeth were clenched, and she jerked her head back.
She didn't know how many times he repeated this, but each strike seemed to be worse than the previous one. She could barely keep any kind of composure, and her strained, tightened muscles trembled. Finally, her legs fell in fatigue, dangling helplessly beneath her. She continued to gulp for air through her soft sobs.
She didn't think it was possible, but Incel had positioned himself so that he could strike under both of her shoulder blades at the same time. Moreover, a few of the other tails struck the center of her shoulder blades.
She screamed the most vicious scream yet, and thrashed and writhed against the cuffs
"Oh, God!" she screamed, throwing her head back. This was not in response to a current lash, but rather the pain continuing from the previous one. She screamed again, and again, until her body slumped in the cuffs from exhaustion. She sobbed piteously. Her body twitched and trembled. She panted and gulped for air again. Her shoulder blades felt like they had been sliced to ribbons with a fiery snake, but she never noticed any liquid bursting from her skin, so she knew she had not been cut by this whip at all...
She shuddered at this realization. Such a whip could torment her all night, and not cause any damage, especially in the hands of an expert like Incel.
She hadn't thought of it before, but she hadn't even had any water for some time before the goon picked her up. Further, she had been awake for seven and a half hours as it was,, five of which were spent doing some sort of physical activity. Now she was to suffer twelve hours of torture? She shuddered and gulped.
She hated to admit it, but she may have overestimated her confidence on this one...
The lashing hadn't stopped since she let her thoughts drift away, and while she felt the pain of each strike, she reacted with little more than a moan or a whimper.
A strike against the back of both knees simultaneously brought her back to the present. She shrieked and jerked, and brought both of her legs back behind her.
She quickly regretted this. Both of her feet received a lash simultaneously on both soles. She let her legs drop, and she screamed, thrashing her head back.
Twelve hours...
You know... he said there will be other things in store, but if he spends more time on this, he'll have less time for anything else... All I have to do is control myself so that I never start counting...
But how much can I take?
Her eyes bulged and she screamed and thrashed again, a scream even more visious than the when she screamed after the strikes to her shoulders. Her right hip now ignited in flame, so much so that she was sure she was bleeding... but she wasn't. She was somewhat relieved to realize that the tails were entirely focused on her hip, nowhere else.
But if this could be that painful when all the tails were focused on the same, singular area...
She gulped and thrashed again. The whip criss-crossed her right hip. Still, the tails never went further than that area.
More criss-cross strokes on her right hip, again and again, just as before. She screamed and thrashed more vigorously after each one.
She was wondering whether he would strike as he did with her left hip, but instead moved back to her shoulders, focusing first on the left shoulder blade. He avoided the edge this time. He struck more than once, and she never stopped thrashing or screaming. He didn't even give her any time to take a breath between each scream before he struck again.
Meanwhile, Anna was becoming painfully aware at the cost her thrashing was doing to her wrists. The cuffs were already biting into her, but this thrashing only caused more pressure on her wrists. At times, she was afraid she'd be at risk of breaking them, but she couldn't stop moving.
As long as she had the energy...
Her other shoulder was next to receive the lash.
How long had she been suffering? When would enough be enough?
He struck the back of her thighs now, moving up and down, straight, diagonal one way, diagonal the other way. She felt like these tails were ripping her to shreds, but still not a drop of blood escaped her skin. Unfortunately, the salt from her sweat served to cause more pain with the stinging lashes after they struck.
Slowly, Anna's strength subsided, and she merely swayed, letting her legs dangle beneath her. Her wrists received no real relief, but they seemed to be thanking her with their throbbing. In between gulping for air, she moaned in response to the lashes, and gradually moved on to sobs.
Then it happened... The right hip was struck again, and this time, the tails did indeed wrap around and strike her torso and pubic area. Anna found her voice and screamed, but could only respond physically by clenching her legs together. Of course, this didn't stop the tails from striking that area, but it did prevent Incel from striking directly underneath them. Anna supposed that would have to do.
Identical lashes followed, criss-crossing once again. She screamed after each one, and again, Incel did not give her the luxury of getting breath before the next lash. After who knew how many lashes, she managed to summon enough strength to sway slightly, knowing it would do her no good.
She didn't think it was possible, but it got worse. He struck her left hip again, and directed the tails to her pubic area once more. She pulled at the cuffs as she screamed, and felt another strike at her right hip. Back and forth, back and forth, right, left, right left, all directed so that the tails would strike her pubic area.
She didn't know how long she suffered this before desperation finally brought her legs open so they could freely kick in response to the pain.
Incel wasted no time, striking between her legs. But this time, Anna could not bring her legs together as she had before; she was in too much pain. He struck again, and again, and again.
"Ohhhhhh God!" Anna screamed again, throwing her head back once more. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if there was such a thing as an Angel who would come to take her away from all this.
She finally summoned enough strength to close her legs again. Her body was weak. As the blows rained upon her, she slowly resorted to her soft moans and sobs once again. She was spent.
How long had it been?
How bad can it be?
She gasped at the pain when the first stroke landed, but otherwise...
She was silent. And still.
Another stroke, this one in the exact same spot as the previous one. Another gasp, and this time her muscles tensed. The thin, jagged strands hurt more than she expected, and to strike in the exact same place as before caused more pain.
But still, no sound or word came out of her mouth.
"Ha!" she was shocked to hear herself when the third stroke struck her directly in the back of her left knee. Unable to resist, she brought her leg back, and was rewarded by a strike directly on the sole of her foot. A high-pitched shriek burst from her, but it was short, and it was only slightly louder than her previous soft outburst.
Her right hip was next, then her the back of her left thigh. Soon enough, she was panting, and softly moaned in between the strikes. The moans were short, only lasting long enough for her to take another short breath. At first, she realized Incel was working with a rhythm on purpose: Strike, pant, moan, pant, strike, pant, moan, pant... She doubted he could hear her moans, but he obviously was timing his strokes for some kind of response.
She really didn't know how many lashes he was giving her. Despite his order, she never counted her strokes...
In past situations like this, Anna would have broken eventually, after suffering who knew how many lashes, before finally calling the number out, starting from "odin." But this was their last night. She was determined never to give Incel the satisfaction of making her keep track of her own punishment. He may be throwing her away after this, but he would always remember that she spent the very last night in unspeakable agony, literally.
The strikes on her shoulder blades, particularly the three directly under the edge of each, were the most painful yet. Her body trembled after each one, and she whimpered several times while the lashing continued. The moans grew louder and longer. The middle of her spine, the small of her back, her left hip, all brought out more and more from her...
But still not a single number escaped her lips.
Nor did a single scream.
The whip struck the back of her right knee, which had been untouched since the session began. She pulled at the cuffs and threw her head back, bellowing a long, high-pitched squeal. Her body wriggled in what she knew was a futile attempt to get away, but instinct drove her to it. Unfazed, Incel struck her left hip again. This time, some of the tails wrapped around and struck her torso, and other tails struck-
"Yaaaieeeeeeee!" The shrill cry burst from her at the first touch of her pubic area. This was nothing like she'd felt before. She sobbed and panted, almost in disbelief.
She honestly wasn't sure what was worse at the moment, the fiberglass cane, or this barbaric thing. Her writhing only increased in desperation. Her legs spread, again on instinct, struggling to find some phantom platform on which to stand...
Exactly what Incel was waiting for. Wasting no time, he thrust the tails upward with a sharpshooter's aim. The tails hit their mark effortlessly, some striking her upper thighs, but most-
"Yaaaaaeeeeeahhhhhhhhh!"
That did it. It was worse than the dreaded cane which Incel knew she feared so much. This thing, down there?
She clamped her legs together, determined, as she panted and trembled, not to give Incel that opportunity again.
Another strike to her left hip. He seemed to be criss-crossing the other strikes, and going directly over some of the previous ones.
"Oooooohhhhhh!"
Anna felt the tails strike her pubic area again in this strike. Her muscles tensed and her vision blurred with tears, mixed with sweat from her forehead. She gulped for air, but now she was sobbing in between her gulps. She didn't think it was possible, but it seemed like she was sweating more with the stress and pain of the position her body was in, and the whip.
Four more criss-crossing strokes to her left hip just like the others, all having the side effect of some of the tails hitting her stomach and pubic area. She screamed and jerked her legs up and against her exposed torso. She looked like she was going to do a cannonball spin, if she were on the ice.
But all this did was to provide Incel with another perfect opportunity. The next lash struck her on the bony part of her ass, and covered both sides simultaneously.
"Rrrrrrrr!" Anna's teeth were clenched, and she jerked her head back.
She didn't know how many times he repeated this, but each strike seemed to be worse than the previous one. She could barely keep any kind of composure, and her strained, tightened muscles trembled. Finally, her legs fell in fatigue, dangling helplessly beneath her. She continued to gulp for air through her soft sobs.
She didn't think it was possible, but Incel had positioned himself so that he could strike under both of her shoulder blades at the same time. Moreover, a few of the other tails struck the center of her shoulder blades.
She screamed the most vicious scream yet, and thrashed and writhed against the cuffs
"Oh, God!" she screamed, throwing her head back. This was not in response to a current lash, but rather the pain continuing from the previous one. She screamed again, and again, until her body slumped in the cuffs from exhaustion. She sobbed piteously. Her body twitched and trembled. She panted and gulped for air again. Her shoulder blades felt like they had been sliced to ribbons with a fiery snake, but she never noticed any liquid bursting from her skin, so she knew she had not been cut by this whip at all...
She shuddered at this realization. Such a whip could torment her all night, and not cause any damage, especially in the hands of an expert like Incel.
She hadn't thought of it before, but she hadn't even had any water for some time before the goon picked her up. Further, she had been awake for seven and a half hours as it was,, five of which were spent doing some sort of physical activity. Now she was to suffer twelve hours of torture? She shuddered and gulped.
She hated to admit it, but she may have overestimated her confidence on this one...
The lashing hadn't stopped since she let her thoughts drift away, and while she felt the pain of each strike, she reacted with little more than a moan or a whimper.
A strike against the back of both knees simultaneously brought her back to the present. She shrieked and jerked, and brought both of her legs back behind her.
She quickly regretted this. Both of her feet received a lash simultaneously on both soles. She let her legs drop, and she screamed, thrashing her head back.
Twelve hours...
You know... he said there will be other things in store, but if he spends more time on this, he'll have less time for anything else... All I have to do is control myself so that I never start counting...
But how much can I take?
Her eyes bulged and she screamed and thrashed again, a scream even more visious than the when she screamed after the strikes to her shoulders. Her right hip now ignited in flame, so much so that she was sure she was bleeding... but she wasn't. She was somewhat relieved to realize that the tails were entirely focused on her hip, nowhere else.
But if this could be that painful when all the tails were focused on the same, singular area...
She gulped and thrashed again. The whip criss-crossed her right hip. Still, the tails never went further than that area.
More criss-cross strokes on her right hip, again and again, just as before. She screamed and thrashed more vigorously after each one.
She was wondering whether he would strike as he did with her left hip, but instead moved back to her shoulders, focusing first on the left shoulder blade. He avoided the edge this time. He struck more than once, and she never stopped thrashing or screaming. He didn't even give her any time to take a breath between each scream before he struck again.
Meanwhile, Anna was becoming painfully aware at the cost her thrashing was doing to her wrists. The cuffs were already biting into her, but this thrashing only caused more pressure on her wrists. At times, she was afraid she'd be at risk of breaking them, but she couldn't stop moving.
As long as she had the energy...
Her other shoulder was next to receive the lash.
How long had she been suffering? When would enough be enough?
He struck the back of her thighs now, moving up and down, straight, diagonal one way, diagonal the other way. She felt like these tails were ripping her to shreds, but still not a drop of blood escaped her skin. Unfortunately, the salt from her sweat served to cause more pain with the stinging lashes after they struck.
Slowly, Anna's strength subsided, and she merely swayed, letting her legs dangle beneath her. Her wrists received no real relief, but they seemed to be thanking her with their throbbing. In between gulping for air, she moaned in response to the lashes, and gradually moved on to sobs.
Then it happened... The right hip was struck again, and this time, the tails did indeed wrap around and strike her torso and pubic area. Anna found her voice and screamed, but could only respond physically by clenching her legs together. Of course, this didn't stop the tails from striking that area, but it did prevent Incel from striking directly underneath them. Anna supposed that would have to do.
Identical lashes followed, criss-crossing once again. She screamed after each one, and again, Incel did not give her the luxury of getting breath before the next lash. After who knew how many lashes, she managed to summon enough strength to sway slightly, knowing it would do her no good.
She didn't think it was possible, but it got worse. He struck her left hip again, and directed the tails to her pubic area once more. She pulled at the cuffs as she screamed, and felt another strike at her right hip. Back and forth, back and forth, right, left, right left, all directed so that the tails would strike her pubic area.
She didn't know how long she suffered this before desperation finally brought her legs open so they could freely kick in response to the pain.
Incel wasted no time, striking between her legs. But this time, Anna could not bring her legs together as she had before; she was in too much pain. He struck again, and again, and again.
"Ohhhhhh God!" Anna screamed again, throwing her head back once more. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if there was such a thing as an Angel who would come to take her away from all this.
She finally summoned enough strength to close her legs again. Her body was weak. As the blows rained upon her, she slowly resorted to her soft moans and sobs once again. She was spent.
How long had it been?
TheLimey
Governor
Incel grunted, and Anna heard him drop the flogger. Painfully, she lifted her head, watching as he walked away from her, into the dark beyond the spotlights. She heard the chink of a bottle on a glass, and she reflexively licked dry lips.
He walked back to the edge of the ring of light, and she focussed on the vodka in one hand,band the cell phone in his other.
'Ha! Zhenka says I should tie your legs apart and just swing at your cunt!'
Her head slumped again. The bastard was broadcasting this to his friends, streaming her torture live. She remembered this Incel, Evgeni, with a degree of disgust. She had spent a week with him on his luxury yacht, because Incel needed a favour from him, and she was the payment for the same. A week where she was locked into a cabin during the day, then brought out at night, forced to perform with the escorts that he brought onto the yacht. He liked to see the girls fuck each other, before fucking her himself whilst the escorts pissed on her.
'Maybe I should have invited him here, to join in your farewell.'
Anna refused to answer.
'Still, he has an excellent idea. I should whip your cunt.'
Anna's voice was hoarse, but defiant 'You think you are getting between my legs?'
He walked back to stand behind her, and Anna shuddered as he reached around her body, dragging the thin, barbed strands up her thighs.
'Twenty strokes on your wide spread cunt...' Anna cried out as he suddenly snapped the flogger across her thighs. 'Twenty strokes, and then the machine will fuck you.'
'Go to the Devil!'
'I'll make you open your legs, bitch.'
Anna sensed an opening. She was certain that she could hold out, not open her legs again as he flogged her, and she knew him, knew that he loved a challenge.
'If you can't open my legs, then I get a break, and water...'
'And if you fail? If I make you open your legs?
She had to make the offer big enough for him to take it.'Then you can choose another whip.. to add to the ones you already have.'
Incel grabbed a bunch of sweat wet hair, pulling her head back sharply. 'I'm meant to deliver you to the market in sellable condition, but I won't see the proceeds, so why the fuck should I care too much about that.'
Anna grasped at that remark? Selling? A market? Was she going to become a whore for some rich Arab?
He stepped away, swinging at the back of her thighs with the whip, and she just managed to twist her ankles together and tense her legs. She had to hold on.
A second stroke, across her already battered shoulder blades, and she tossed her head back, mouth open in a scream.
''Yeeeeeeaaaaaarrrrgggh...!'
Three, four more strokes. harder than previously, something she didn't think was possible. Each stroke was distinct, the pain from one not being allowed to roll onto the next, though he focused on the areas that provoked the strongest reactions.
She had to give him something, though it pained her to do so, before she started to get too weak. She had to win this.
'Odin!'
'Finally! Now to make you sing!'
He had a pattern, strokes designed to suck the energy from her, wrapping around her torso to crash across her stomach and lower ribs. By the time she screamed out 'Desyat!' she knew that this was going to be the struggle of her life. Each stroke was driving the breath out of her body, leaving her fighting for breath in order to cry out the count. She was terrified that she was going to lose count, that this whole ordeal would start again.
'Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!' A stroke wrapped around her hip, licking at her pubic area.
What was the count? Fifteen? Fourteen? Dear God, she was going to get it wrong. She was starting to panic, her heart pounding, her breathing shallow, she was going to fail....
'Pyatnadstat!'
'Lucky whore...'
Sixteen, seventeen. Everything was agony now, her back and thighs feeling like they were on fire, her shoulders feeling like they were close to dislocation. She could feel liquid running down her back, and couldn't believe that it was just sweat, he must have drawn blood by now. She could feel pins and needles in her hands, the metal handcuffs biting into her wrists, shutting down circulation.
She had kept her legs clamped together all through this but on the nineteenth stroke he got the angle just right, and she felt the ends of the flogger dig between her thighs, and she kicked with her legs, opening them up one last time. Incel didn't hesitate, and she had barely shouted out 'Devyatbadstat!' before he let rip with an underhand strike deep between her legs.
Anna screamed, her body convulsing and twisting in her bondage, sweat spraying as her head snapped back. Almost all though was driven from her, all she could focus on was the pain, but something, some shred of self preservation forced out the word 'Dvadstat!' before her head slumped forward, and her chest heaved with sobs.
Incel dropped the flogger and reached up to undo the cuffs around her wrists, leaving her at first hanging from just one wrist before he got the second unlocked. She crashed to the floor, curling into a feotal ball, one hand clamped over her pussy, sobbing uncontrollably.
He knelt by her side. 'How does it feel to fail, shlyukha....'
He walked back to the edge of the ring of light, and she focussed on the vodka in one hand,band the cell phone in his other.
'Ha! Zhenka says I should tie your legs apart and just swing at your cunt!'
Her head slumped again. The bastard was broadcasting this to his friends, streaming her torture live. She remembered this Incel, Evgeni, with a degree of disgust. She had spent a week with him on his luxury yacht, because Incel needed a favour from him, and she was the payment for the same. A week where she was locked into a cabin during the day, then brought out at night, forced to perform with the escorts that he brought onto the yacht. He liked to see the girls fuck each other, before fucking her himself whilst the escorts pissed on her.
'Maybe I should have invited him here, to join in your farewell.'
Anna refused to answer.
'Still, he has an excellent idea. I should whip your cunt.'
Anna's voice was hoarse, but defiant 'You think you are getting between my legs?'
He walked back to stand behind her, and Anna shuddered as he reached around her body, dragging the thin, barbed strands up her thighs.
'Twenty strokes on your wide spread cunt...' Anna cried out as he suddenly snapped the flogger across her thighs. 'Twenty strokes, and then the machine will fuck you.'
'Go to the Devil!'
'I'll make you open your legs, bitch.'
Anna sensed an opening. She was certain that she could hold out, not open her legs again as he flogged her, and she knew him, knew that he loved a challenge.
'If you can't open my legs, then I get a break, and water...'
'And if you fail? If I make you open your legs?
She had to make the offer big enough for him to take it.'Then you can choose another whip.. to add to the ones you already have.'
Incel grabbed a bunch of sweat wet hair, pulling her head back sharply. 'I'm meant to deliver you to the market in sellable condition, but I won't see the proceeds, so why the fuck should I care too much about that.'
Anna grasped at that remark? Selling? A market? Was she going to become a whore for some rich Arab?
He stepped away, swinging at the back of her thighs with the whip, and she just managed to twist her ankles together and tense her legs. She had to hold on.
A second stroke, across her already battered shoulder blades, and she tossed her head back, mouth open in a scream.
''Yeeeeeeaaaaaarrrrgggh...!'
Three, four more strokes. harder than previously, something she didn't think was possible. Each stroke was distinct, the pain from one not being allowed to roll onto the next, though he focused on the areas that provoked the strongest reactions.
She had to give him something, though it pained her to do so, before she started to get too weak. She had to win this.
'Odin!'
'Finally! Now to make you sing!'
He had a pattern, strokes designed to suck the energy from her, wrapping around her torso to crash across her stomach and lower ribs. By the time she screamed out 'Desyat!' she knew that this was going to be the struggle of her life. Each stroke was driving the breath out of her body, leaving her fighting for breath in order to cry out the count. She was terrified that she was going to lose count, that this whole ordeal would start again.
'Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!' A stroke wrapped around her hip, licking at her pubic area.
What was the count? Fifteen? Fourteen? Dear God, she was going to get it wrong. She was starting to panic, her heart pounding, her breathing shallow, she was going to fail....
'Pyatnadstat!'
'Lucky whore...'
Sixteen, seventeen. Everything was agony now, her back and thighs feeling like they were on fire, her shoulders feeling like they were close to dislocation. She could feel liquid running down her back, and couldn't believe that it was just sweat, he must have drawn blood by now. She could feel pins and needles in her hands, the metal handcuffs biting into her wrists, shutting down circulation.
She had kept her legs clamped together all through this but on the nineteenth stroke he got the angle just right, and she felt the ends of the flogger dig between her thighs, and she kicked with her legs, opening them up one last time. Incel didn't hesitate, and she had barely shouted out 'Devyatbadstat!' before he let rip with an underhand strike deep between her legs.
Anna screamed, her body convulsing and twisting in her bondage, sweat spraying as her head snapped back. Almost all though was driven from her, all she could focus on was the pain, but something, some shred of self preservation forced out the word 'Dvadstat!' before her head slumped forward, and her chest heaved with sobs.
Incel dropped the flogger and reached up to undo the cuffs around her wrists, leaving her at first hanging from just one wrist before he got the second unlocked. She crashed to the floor, curling into a feotal ball, one hand clamped over her pussy, sobbing uncontrollably.
He knelt by her side. 'How does it feel to fail, shlyukha....'
TheLimey
Governor
Despite what she'd just suffered, when Incel taunted Anna, she managed to laugh in the midst of her sobs. "This... wasn't... failure..." she panted, and gulped for air. She paused. Though her body was trembling uncontrollably, she met his eyes and smiled. "Either you couldn't break me sooner, or you didn't have the balls to." She smirked.
Incel at first took a deep breath, his expression stoic. She could sense the rage bubbling in him.
Then, he smiled.
"Or maybe I wanted to see what you were willing to wager in exchange for mercy. And maybe I wanted to see how long you could hold out, given that you were already in considerable pain." He reached out and lightly touched one of the welts on the bony part of her ass and ran his finger along it, first lightly, then applying more pressure.
The moment he touched her, the pain filled her mind like a lightning strike, and she couldn't help but whimper. As the pressure increased, her whimpering became louder until it was transformed into a pitiful moan.
Of all the places he'd struck, this in particular was a strike worthy of all the rest. But he could only have struck it because of her own desperation to move her legs to block the whip from hitting other places. He only struck it once; she never gave him that opportunity again.
Anna winced slightly. She was already to suffer three whipping implements. She'd just given him the green light to use another, this time without any penalty to the others. She gulped and shivered.
Another whip... that's all she could think of as she lay on the gym mat. Further, this would surely be a cruel one. Their last night together, and not having any profit in her sale, there was no reason for him to restrain himself as he normally did.
Sellable condition... She shuddered.
But for a brief moment, she gulped for air and managed to compose herself.
If she was leaving, there would be an opportunity for escape, one way or another. Even if she did manage to be sold to someone, there would eventually be an opportunity. She just had to be determined enough to wait for it, and not do anything too soon.
She also couldn't say anything about this realization. Not to anyone she would come in contact with. Unless she was certain of their aid, she wouldn't take any risks involving anyone else. She learned that with Valery. Valery, of course, was an innocent in the purest sense of the word. When they were caught, Incel's men had no qualms about shooting him, even if he was known enough that his death would guarantee unwanted attention. Anna surrendered willingly in exchange for him not to be harmed.
Of course, it wasn't that simple. Incel had them both brought to him and both of them suffered terribly in such a baffling exhibition that it still boggled Anna's mind. They were secured together so that when one of them moved, the other would receive pain thanks to the connecting bondage, which was already painful even if they'd kept still. Then the whipping and shocks came. Finally, he had them fuck each other and give each other oral sex. Pain was the price for a lack of enthusiasm.
Then, Valery was released and told never to see Anna again, even at competitions and other public situations.
But before he left, he gave Anna the most precious gift she could ever imagine: a way out. A guaranteed way out. He whispered it to her before their parting.
She was determined to endure as long as she could without having to use this gift, but now that she was leaving...
As long as there's opportunity... I'll take it...
All this time, Incel had been running his fingers along the marks he had made under her shoulder blades and along her hips and ribs. Anna's cries grew louder and longer as he continued.
"You've always suffered well, I'll give you that," Incel said, finally, mercifully, withdrawing his hand. Then, he smiled. "Of course, you notice there is one area I did not touch... Yet."
He brought his hand to the front of her pubic area, which had to have at least a couple dozen marks on it. Instead of a simple caress, he slowly ran the tips of his fingers along the marks, making certain that she felt his short fingernails every moment.
She shrieked and jerked her head back, and continued shrieking as he used his fingers as though he were doing a painting. At some points, he would simply tap a finger more than once over a specific spot. Other times, he would move his hand in the opposite direction.
Anna had to admit, it was times like these, though she never imagined anything like this, that she was grateful to have had electrolysis to remove all of her pubic hair.
When he first began to exploit and torture her, he would often pluck hairs out just to cause pain. One day, she spoke to her coach and told him what was going on. She asked for electrolysis, and he secretly got her to the appointment and it was done. It hurt worse than anything Incel had ever done to her, but she was grateful that he at least would be unable to do such things as he had before.
Of course, he made both her suffer when he found out, and she was never allowed to be coached by him again.
Incel brought her to tears and wailing before he stopped. But before he did, he gave one last harsh scrape of a welt on her pubic area he noticed looked particularly painful. He turned his hand over and clenched his hand into a fist. He aimed the diamond ring for the welt, and scraped.
The resulting shriek seemed to pierce the room. Anna wasn't sure, but she thought there was an echo...
Incel walked back to his vodka and took another couple of swigs. Then he held the phone in his hands and looked at it. He must have been texting, because in minutes, the goon from earlier jerked Anna to her feet.
She gasped and winced. She had forgotten about the strikes to the soles of her feet. It hurt to walk on them, and the goon wasted no time in pushing her toward the door.
For a while, Anna had forgotten what awaited her next. Then, when she noticed the direction they were headed, her eyes widened as she remembered.
Gid, not that thing! Her body trembled once more, but as they continued to walk, or in Anna's case, stumble, she had to admit she was grateful that her pussy overall had received only a few strokes from the whip.
Thank God for small favors...
Her mind flooded with memories of the different variations she had suffered over the last four years, all of them from slightly painful to utterly excruciating. The "add-ons" as Incel liked to call them, varied according to whatever he was in the mood for at the time. Sometimes there were none, other times there were all manner of things separate from the machine, and others directly connected to it. She could not fathom what he might be doing for their very last time...
There must be a way out of this... a way to lessen it...
Anna gulped as they entered the room.
Incel at first took a deep breath, his expression stoic. She could sense the rage bubbling in him.
Then, he smiled.
"Or maybe I wanted to see what you were willing to wager in exchange for mercy. And maybe I wanted to see how long you could hold out, given that you were already in considerable pain." He reached out and lightly touched one of the welts on the bony part of her ass and ran his finger along it, first lightly, then applying more pressure.
The moment he touched her, the pain filled her mind like a lightning strike, and she couldn't help but whimper. As the pressure increased, her whimpering became louder until it was transformed into a pitiful moan.
Of all the places he'd struck, this in particular was a strike worthy of all the rest. But he could only have struck it because of her own desperation to move her legs to block the whip from hitting other places. He only struck it once; she never gave him that opportunity again.
Anna winced slightly. She was already to suffer three whipping implements. She'd just given him the green light to use another, this time without any penalty to the others. She gulped and shivered.
Another whip... that's all she could think of as she lay on the gym mat. Further, this would surely be a cruel one. Their last night together, and not having any profit in her sale, there was no reason for him to restrain himself as he normally did.
Sellable condition... She shuddered.
But for a brief moment, she gulped for air and managed to compose herself.
If she was leaving, there would be an opportunity for escape, one way or another. Even if she did manage to be sold to someone, there would eventually be an opportunity. She just had to be determined enough to wait for it, and not do anything too soon.
She also couldn't say anything about this realization. Not to anyone she would come in contact with. Unless she was certain of their aid, she wouldn't take any risks involving anyone else. She learned that with Valery. Valery, of course, was an innocent in the purest sense of the word. When they were caught, Incel's men had no qualms about shooting him, even if he was known enough that his death would guarantee unwanted attention. Anna surrendered willingly in exchange for him not to be harmed.
Of course, it wasn't that simple. Incel had them both brought to him and both of them suffered terribly in such a baffling exhibition that it still boggled Anna's mind. They were secured together so that when one of them moved, the other would receive pain thanks to the connecting bondage, which was already painful even if they'd kept still. Then the whipping and shocks came. Finally, he had them fuck each other and give each other oral sex. Pain was the price for a lack of enthusiasm.
Then, Valery was released and told never to see Anna again, even at competitions and other public situations.
But before he left, he gave Anna the most precious gift she could ever imagine: a way out. A guaranteed way out. He whispered it to her before their parting.
She was determined to endure as long as she could without having to use this gift, but now that she was leaving...
As long as there's opportunity... I'll take it...
All this time, Incel had been running his fingers along the marks he had made under her shoulder blades and along her hips and ribs. Anna's cries grew louder and longer as he continued.
"You've always suffered well, I'll give you that," Incel said, finally, mercifully, withdrawing his hand. Then, he smiled. "Of course, you notice there is one area I did not touch... Yet."
He brought his hand to the front of her pubic area, which had to have at least a couple dozen marks on it. Instead of a simple caress, he slowly ran the tips of his fingers along the marks, making certain that she felt his short fingernails every moment.
She shrieked and jerked her head back, and continued shrieking as he used his fingers as though he were doing a painting. At some points, he would simply tap a finger more than once over a specific spot. Other times, he would move his hand in the opposite direction.
Anna had to admit, it was times like these, though she never imagined anything like this, that she was grateful to have had electrolysis to remove all of her pubic hair.
When he first began to exploit and torture her, he would often pluck hairs out just to cause pain. One day, she spoke to her coach and told him what was going on. She asked for electrolysis, and he secretly got her to the appointment and it was done. It hurt worse than anything Incel had ever done to her, but she was grateful that he at least would be unable to do such things as he had before.
Of course, he made both her suffer when he found out, and she was never allowed to be coached by him again.
Incel brought her to tears and wailing before he stopped. But before he did, he gave one last harsh scrape of a welt on her pubic area he noticed looked particularly painful. He turned his hand over and clenched his hand into a fist. He aimed the diamond ring for the welt, and scraped.
The resulting shriek seemed to pierce the room. Anna wasn't sure, but she thought there was an echo...
Incel walked back to his vodka and took another couple of swigs. Then he held the phone in his hands and looked at it. He must have been texting, because in minutes, the goon from earlier jerked Anna to her feet.
She gasped and winced. She had forgotten about the strikes to the soles of her feet. It hurt to walk on them, and the goon wasted no time in pushing her toward the door.
For a while, Anna had forgotten what awaited her next. Then, when she noticed the direction they were headed, her eyes widened as she remembered.
Gid, not that thing! Her body trembled once more, but as they continued to walk, or in Anna's case, stumble, she had to admit she was grateful that her pussy overall had received only a few strokes from the whip.
Thank God for small favors...
Her mind flooded with memories of the different variations she had suffered over the last four years, all of them from slightly painful to utterly excruciating. The "add-ons" as Incel liked to call them, varied according to whatever he was in the mood for at the time. Sometimes there were none, other times there were all manner of things separate from the machine, and others directly connected to it. She could not fathom what he might be doing for their very last time...
There must be a way out of this... a way to lessen it...
Anna gulped as they entered the room.
TheLimey
Governor
Heart in her mouth, Anna responded reluctantly to the guard pushing her into the room, stumbling a little, as she crossed the threshold. She knew this room of old. The armchairs in the corner, with the drinks cabinet alongside, the display of antiques from the time before the revolution. Incel liked to think he was modern nobility, a patron of the arts. It was one of the reasons for his interest in her, originally. He could bask in the reflected glory of her success on the rink.
Now though, her attention was instantly drawn to the apparatus in the center of the room, bathed in spotlights. There it was, the machine. He had had it specially made so it could be used to fuck her pussy, her ass, or both at the same time. This last he enjoyed the most, delighting in her screams whilst she felt like she was being torn apart. There was nothing on the two arms right now, but whatever he chose, it wouldn't be enjoyable.
A square table had been placed in front of the machine, and she could see the glint of metal chains dangling from the ceiling. She knew that she would soon be obscenely displayed on that table.
It was the work of minutes for the goon to have her in place. The table wasn't big enough for her whole back, and Anna hissed in pain as the edges dug into the weals on her shoulders and ass. Her wrists were circled in thin chain, fastened either side of her torso to the flat surface.
The goon reached up, pulling on a pair of chains that had been just out of the glare of the lights, bringing them into view, and Anna whispered 'Oh God, no....' as she saw the clips on the ends. So far, her breasts had been untouched, apart for a couple of misplaced strikes from the flogger, but no longer.
The guard reached for her left nipple, and she squirmed as he roughly grabbed it, kneading at it with calloused fingers. She could see the clip clearly now, see the blunt points that would dig into her flesh, the screw mechanism that would clamp it down. She steeled herself for the bite of the clip, not wanting to give the goon the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.
She succeeded at this as the left clip was tightened down, but couldn't help moaning as the right nipple was clamped next.
'You like it, don't you, Rasputnitsa? I wish the boss would let me fuck you before you leave us.'
'Wish in one hand, and shit in the other. I know which will fill up first!' She spat the words at him, not flinching as he started to pull his hand back to back hand her across the face, before dropping the hand before delivering the blow. Careful, Anna thought to herself, you don't want the guards to be added to whatever ordeals Incel had planned.
The guard moved down to her feet, pulling her legs apart, and reaching for another chain that descended from the ceiling. Almost instantly, she felt the pull on her left breast, and realized with horror that the chains were connected. She tensed her abs, rolling her upper torso up to lessen the painful pull on her nipple. The other end of the chain was soon locked around her ankle, and she realized the predicament she would be in. If she lifted her legs, she could lessen the pull on her breasts, but when her legs became tired, she would need to use her upper body strength to lessen the pain of the clips.
The right leg was soon chained like the first, holding her legs open by over a meter, so the machine would have nothing to stop it's insidious movements inside her. She felt the goon fumble at the chains, then realized as the pull on her breasts increased that a heavy weight had been added to each ankle.
Coming after the suspension and the flogging, she soon felt a dull ache growing in her abs. She shifted position, raising her legs and letting her body settle back again. The goon must have been waiting for this, as he wrapped chain around her neck, locking it tight around her, and fastening the loose end to the floor.
She realized what this had added to her problems. As her legs grew tired, she would have to raise her torso, to lessen the pull on her nipples. The chain around her neck would strangle her if she raised up too far, so there would always be some pull on her breasts unless she wanted to choke herself. This balancing act would all have to be done whilst she was being fucked by whatever Incel was going to attach to the machine. She could already guess that her ass would be filled with a long intruder, shaped as a series of stacked balls, each one larger than the first. He had used that on her already, and she hated the thing.
The guard texted something into his phone, then left, leaving Anna on her own, fresh sweat already starting to trickle down her abs.
Now though, her attention was instantly drawn to the apparatus in the center of the room, bathed in spotlights. There it was, the machine. He had had it specially made so it could be used to fuck her pussy, her ass, or both at the same time. This last he enjoyed the most, delighting in her screams whilst she felt like she was being torn apart. There was nothing on the two arms right now, but whatever he chose, it wouldn't be enjoyable.
A square table had been placed in front of the machine, and she could see the glint of metal chains dangling from the ceiling. She knew that she would soon be obscenely displayed on that table.
It was the work of minutes for the goon to have her in place. The table wasn't big enough for her whole back, and Anna hissed in pain as the edges dug into the weals on her shoulders and ass. Her wrists were circled in thin chain, fastened either side of her torso to the flat surface.
The goon reached up, pulling on a pair of chains that had been just out of the glare of the lights, bringing them into view, and Anna whispered 'Oh God, no....' as she saw the clips on the ends. So far, her breasts had been untouched, apart for a couple of misplaced strikes from the flogger, but no longer.
The guard reached for her left nipple, and she squirmed as he roughly grabbed it, kneading at it with calloused fingers. She could see the clip clearly now, see the blunt points that would dig into her flesh, the screw mechanism that would clamp it down. She steeled herself for the bite of the clip, not wanting to give the goon the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.
She succeeded at this as the left clip was tightened down, but couldn't help moaning as the right nipple was clamped next.
'You like it, don't you, Rasputnitsa? I wish the boss would let me fuck you before you leave us.'
'Wish in one hand, and shit in the other. I know which will fill up first!' She spat the words at him, not flinching as he started to pull his hand back to back hand her across the face, before dropping the hand before delivering the blow. Careful, Anna thought to herself, you don't want the guards to be added to whatever ordeals Incel had planned.
The guard moved down to her feet, pulling her legs apart, and reaching for another chain that descended from the ceiling. Almost instantly, she felt the pull on her left breast, and realized with horror that the chains were connected. She tensed her abs, rolling her upper torso up to lessen the painful pull on her nipple. The other end of the chain was soon locked around her ankle, and she realized the predicament she would be in. If she lifted her legs, she could lessen the pull on her breasts, but when her legs became tired, she would need to use her upper body strength to lessen the pain of the clips.
The right leg was soon chained like the first, holding her legs open by over a meter, so the machine would have nothing to stop it's insidious movements inside her. She felt the goon fumble at the chains, then realized as the pull on her breasts increased that a heavy weight had been added to each ankle.
Coming after the suspension and the flogging, she soon felt a dull ache growing in her abs. She shifted position, raising her legs and letting her body settle back again. The goon must have been waiting for this, as he wrapped chain around her neck, locking it tight around her, and fastening the loose end to the floor.
She realized what this had added to her problems. As her legs grew tired, she would have to raise her torso, to lessen the pull on her nipples. The chain around her neck would strangle her if she raised up too far, so there would always be some pull on her breasts unless she wanted to choke herself. This balancing act would all have to be done whilst she was being fucked by whatever Incel was going to attach to the machine. She could already guess that her ass would be filled with a long intruder, shaped as a series of stacked balls, each one larger than the first. He had used that on her already, and she hated the thing.
The guard texted something into his phone, then left, leaving Anna on her own, fresh sweat already starting to trickle down her abs.
TheLimey
Governor
Figure skating has always been more about mental capabilities than physical ones. One could have all the jumps necessary to win, but if you don't know how to perform with composure and conviction, you might as well quit and get a job as a dishwasher. If you knew the score to beat depended upon you doing some specific jump, but that jump was not in your repertoire, you knew you had to make up those points somehow. A hand over your head on a jump here, a difficult spin position there, that would make the difference.
But only if you were confident enough to pull it off. That's where the mental strength came in. You also had to know that if you made a mistake, you needed to be calm enough, first not to fall completely apart, and then, to find a way to make up what you had just lost. You had to know your capabilities, and know your weaknesses. Know what was needed, and know what was possible to achieve an even better result than anyone thought you were capablke of.
In the seconds before the two invaders entered her, Anna had some calculations to make.
At the Olympics, you only get one shot. You never know if you're going to get another in four years, so your first Games may be your only chance. Any athlete knows they must do whatever they can to be worthy of placing well. Winning may be a dream, but any sensible coach will knock that out of your head sooner rather than later. Winning is a dream, not a goal. You strive for it, but there is no guarantee whether you will even qualify for the Games, let alone if you will be worthy of Gold. If you do make it there, you have to observe not only yourself but the othe competitors as well. If you see an opportunity for weakness, you exploit it. If you notice a weakness in yourself, you either fix it, or highlight some other strength you have so it's not so bad.
One chance. All you have is one chance.
For the past four years, Anna had tried either to live with what her situation was, or to find a way out of it. She tried to escape with Valery, but that was thwarted. Coded social media posts, both public and private, had allowed Valery to keep in touch with her and understand what was truly necessary.
The only way out...
It could only be done when the opportunity presented itself. Timing, as well as means, were everything. Sometimes, she had the means, but the timing wasn't right. Many times, the time was right, but there were no means.
The yacht, for example. She had thought of throwing herself overboard, but knew she'd be spotted rather quickly and rescued. Then it turned out, she didn't even have the opportunity to jump even if she wanted to. She was kept locked away until the evenings' festivities.
Most of the time, though, when she would shave, she would think of the razor she held in her hand, and the pdf Valery had sent her which highlighted the circulatory system in the body... highlighting five particular arteries...
But she was never desperate enough at any of these moments to act on them. Many times, she would curse herself for her cowardice and complacency. But still, when the next shower came, she would think of it...
In her heart, Anna still desired escape in life, rather than escape in death. She still had desires to skate, to compete and perform, for fans and children to say they were inspired by her to skate themselves. To have other skaters perform some of the innovative moves she had created, not for points, but because they enjoyed doing them, and felt they added something special to their own performances.
She wanted what any Russian skater wanted: a legacy.
But if Incel was sending her to a place without any access to her life's blood, she might as well have no life.
She shuddered. Tears filled her eyes. Would Incel really be stupid enough to give her the very thing that she craved, a chance to end it all here and now? Or was he testing her, to see if she would try this foolish thing which he no doubt had some kind of guard against? She had kept her thoughts to herself and Valery, and when they were expressed to Valery, it was in code which only they could understand. But could she really take this chance to reveal her desires in what may be a failed attempt?
The chain around her neck... was it enough to kill?
Unfortunately, she knew that suffocation was a slow death that could be stopped rather quickly if caught soon enough. Even if there was a delay, it would result first in unconsciousness, and that could be cured.
One chance... only one...
There had to be a way... there just had to...
Don't push it. Remember what Ilya Maksimovich said: Desperation creates fools, and only fools rush in.
She was desperate, but her former coach taught her to be methodical and calculating. It was one thing to risk a triple Axel if she knew she could do it. It was quite another if she were desperate enough for victory to try a quad flip in competition when more often than not, she had fallen.
Think carefully before you act... You will not get another opportunity. He will make certain of that...
The choice was clear: She had to wait. She couldn't risk her true intentions with this choke chain to be revealed soon enough for him to stop her.
But then, as she reminded herself, suffocation could easily be stopped. Even if she fell into unconsciousness, he would take her off and revive her. Then, he'd come up with something more devious-
But they only had nine hours. If she did slip into unconsciousness, who knew how much time that would shave from her ordeal? He wouldn't be able to punish her for that. There would be no time!
Unless he was bluffing about the time... he'd done that several times before, telling her they would be engaged for several hours, then reveal that he "misread" the time. They really had nearly twice what he had set before, and they'd use every moment of it.
Anna gulped. There were too many factors to consider. Too many variables.
She couldn't risk it. If he was bluffing about the time they had, she could slip into unconsciousness, recover, and suffer terribly for her audacity of trying to end her life with the chain he had chosen to use on her. He may then repeat the torture without the choke chain, and come up with something even worse that would not be life-threatening.
At least he hadn't done anything worse to her. She could suffer the machine, and the pain to her breasts, until it was over. Resigning herself to her fate, she lay her head back.
Ordinarily, she could keep her legs raised for quite a while, but that was only if she had gone straight into such an activity. Several hours of training would be diminish that capability considerably, moreso if she was injured in some way. Fortunately, she had no injury, but she was considerably fatigued. She knew she couldn't keep her legs up for long.
But what's the worst that could happen? Her breasts being pulled was nothing new. She hated it, but she felt she could handle it. It was the machine that truly terrified her.
It would start slow, allowing whatever he put on it to enter without any issue. They'd enter slowly, just a little, and withdraw, but not completely. Each thrust went further in, and was withdrawn less and less each time. When they were both fully in, they'd be withdrawn almost completely, and the real anguish would start.
She gasped and gritted her teeth as she felt the small ball against her ass, but tears filled her eyes when she noticed the stake-like point about to enter her pussy.
It figured he'd go for the stake... Not only were the sharp edges painful, but the vibrating feature was even worse.
As the devilish devices penetrated her, she grunted and her eyes widened. It wasn't much, but the speed was just a little faster than normal. Neither one had began vibrating yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
She also noticed that rather than withdrawing, each of them simply paused between each new thrust, and remained stationary for a few seconds. Anna moved her head from side to side as she grunted and groaned in pain. Her body trembled.
Each thrust caused her to moan louder and longer. When at last they had gone as far as they could, the balls in her ass began their drumbeats. She writhed as best she could, but her movements were limited. The intruders did not move, but stayed in place for what seemed like hours as her moans turned to sobs. The balls slowly slid back a little, then forward with a jerk. She gasped and shrieked. Again and again it withdrew ever so slightly, and jerked forward. She shrieked and jerked her head back with each thrust. In a matter of moments, she was sobbing. The stake remained still as she suffered.
Sure enough, the strength in her legs soon gave out, and she lay them down slowly, still conscious of the pain which would result on her breasts, but also not wanting to hurt her ankles too much by moving her legs too fast. She moaned at the pull on her breasts, but she was far more preoccupied with the pain in her ass to care too much.
The balls made one last push, then stayed. She grunted as the vibration changed to a painful pulse, each pulse harsher than the last, with about a second's rest between each. After who knew how long, the time between the pulses grew longer and longer, until finally, they stopped.
The moment they did, the stake made its move.
Anna couldn't help but scream as it behaved as the balls had. The stake always made her feel as though she were being stabbed again and again. The speed was faster than she was used to, but not enough to allow her the mercy of fainting from the pain.
After a while, with both devices vibrating and fucking her at the same time, her legs back in the air to bring some relief to her breasts, Incel approached her with the fiberglass cane. He twirled it around like a baton. She stared in horror as she continued to scream.
"Now it is my turn to give you a choice," he said coldly, but patiently enough to ensure that every word was heard. "I can pause the machine in exchange for ten of your strokes with the cane, delivered to either your left breast or your right breast. But you must lie completely flat while I administer them. No raising your head or your legs. I take as long as I like, and then we resume with the machine. If you raise either your head or your legs while I deliver the strokes, I turn the machine back on, and those ten lashes will be added back to your tally. Do you agree?"
Anna's screams subsided to muffled moans while she listened to his offer. With tears in her eyes, she nodded and gulped.
"Yes."
Incel smiled with satisfaction. "Which breast then?"
Anna trembled. "L- l- left," she panted.
Incel slowly walked to the machine and pressed a button.
The vibrating stopped, but the dildos stayed where they were, which were the farthest in they could go. Her body trembled as he returned to her.
"I said we'd pause, not stop," he sneered. "The left breast it is. Lower your legs."
Anna slowly did as she was told, whimpering as she did so. The moment her legs were on the table, he flicked the cane on the underside of her stretched left breast.
The resulting fire caused her to shriek, but she remained still. In moments, he struck her again, this time diagonally intersecting the previous stroke. Another shriek. The next was directly on the base of her breast. She howled in pain, but otherwise did not move. Another near her clamped npple, the fifth directly on top of one of the random strikes from the previous whipping.
He was going fast. It was obvious he did not want to take too much time away from the agony of the machine.
But only if you were confident enough to pull it off. That's where the mental strength came in. You also had to know that if you made a mistake, you needed to be calm enough, first not to fall completely apart, and then, to find a way to make up what you had just lost. You had to know your capabilities, and know your weaknesses. Know what was needed, and know what was possible to achieve an even better result than anyone thought you were capablke of.
In the seconds before the two invaders entered her, Anna had some calculations to make.
At the Olympics, you only get one shot. You never know if you're going to get another in four years, so your first Games may be your only chance. Any athlete knows they must do whatever they can to be worthy of placing well. Winning may be a dream, but any sensible coach will knock that out of your head sooner rather than later. Winning is a dream, not a goal. You strive for it, but there is no guarantee whether you will even qualify for the Games, let alone if you will be worthy of Gold. If you do make it there, you have to observe not only yourself but the othe competitors as well. If you see an opportunity for weakness, you exploit it. If you notice a weakness in yourself, you either fix it, or highlight some other strength you have so it's not so bad.
One chance. All you have is one chance.
For the past four years, Anna had tried either to live with what her situation was, or to find a way out of it. She tried to escape with Valery, but that was thwarted. Coded social media posts, both public and private, had allowed Valery to keep in touch with her and understand what was truly necessary.
The only way out...
It could only be done when the opportunity presented itself. Timing, as well as means, were everything. Sometimes, she had the means, but the timing wasn't right. Many times, the time was right, but there were no means.
The yacht, for example. She had thought of throwing herself overboard, but knew she'd be spotted rather quickly and rescued. Then it turned out, she didn't even have the opportunity to jump even if she wanted to. She was kept locked away until the evenings' festivities.
Most of the time, though, when she would shave, she would think of the razor she held in her hand, and the pdf Valery had sent her which highlighted the circulatory system in the body... highlighting five particular arteries...
But she was never desperate enough at any of these moments to act on them. Many times, she would curse herself for her cowardice and complacency. But still, when the next shower came, she would think of it...
In her heart, Anna still desired escape in life, rather than escape in death. She still had desires to skate, to compete and perform, for fans and children to say they were inspired by her to skate themselves. To have other skaters perform some of the innovative moves she had created, not for points, but because they enjoyed doing them, and felt they added something special to their own performances.
She wanted what any Russian skater wanted: a legacy.
But if Incel was sending her to a place without any access to her life's blood, she might as well have no life.
She shuddered. Tears filled her eyes. Would Incel really be stupid enough to give her the very thing that she craved, a chance to end it all here and now? Or was he testing her, to see if she would try this foolish thing which he no doubt had some kind of guard against? She had kept her thoughts to herself and Valery, and when they were expressed to Valery, it was in code which only they could understand. But could she really take this chance to reveal her desires in what may be a failed attempt?
The chain around her neck... was it enough to kill?
Unfortunately, she knew that suffocation was a slow death that could be stopped rather quickly if caught soon enough. Even if there was a delay, it would result first in unconsciousness, and that could be cured.
One chance... only one...
There had to be a way... there just had to...
Don't push it. Remember what Ilya Maksimovich said: Desperation creates fools, and only fools rush in.
She was desperate, but her former coach taught her to be methodical and calculating. It was one thing to risk a triple Axel if she knew she could do it. It was quite another if she were desperate enough for victory to try a quad flip in competition when more often than not, she had fallen.
Think carefully before you act... You will not get another opportunity. He will make certain of that...
The choice was clear: She had to wait. She couldn't risk her true intentions with this choke chain to be revealed soon enough for him to stop her.
But then, as she reminded herself, suffocation could easily be stopped. Even if she fell into unconsciousness, he would take her off and revive her. Then, he'd come up with something more devious-
But they only had nine hours. If she did slip into unconsciousness, who knew how much time that would shave from her ordeal? He wouldn't be able to punish her for that. There would be no time!
Unless he was bluffing about the time... he'd done that several times before, telling her they would be engaged for several hours, then reveal that he "misread" the time. They really had nearly twice what he had set before, and they'd use every moment of it.
Anna gulped. There were too many factors to consider. Too many variables.
She couldn't risk it. If he was bluffing about the time they had, she could slip into unconsciousness, recover, and suffer terribly for her audacity of trying to end her life with the chain he had chosen to use on her. He may then repeat the torture without the choke chain, and come up with something even worse that would not be life-threatening.
At least he hadn't done anything worse to her. She could suffer the machine, and the pain to her breasts, until it was over. Resigning herself to her fate, she lay her head back.
Ordinarily, she could keep her legs raised for quite a while, but that was only if she had gone straight into such an activity. Several hours of training would be diminish that capability considerably, moreso if she was injured in some way. Fortunately, she had no injury, but she was considerably fatigued. She knew she couldn't keep her legs up for long.
But what's the worst that could happen? Her breasts being pulled was nothing new. She hated it, but she felt she could handle it. It was the machine that truly terrified her.
It would start slow, allowing whatever he put on it to enter without any issue. They'd enter slowly, just a little, and withdraw, but not completely. Each thrust went further in, and was withdrawn less and less each time. When they were both fully in, they'd be withdrawn almost completely, and the real anguish would start.
She gasped and gritted her teeth as she felt the small ball against her ass, but tears filled her eyes when she noticed the stake-like point about to enter her pussy.
It figured he'd go for the stake... Not only were the sharp edges painful, but the vibrating feature was even worse.
As the devilish devices penetrated her, she grunted and her eyes widened. It wasn't much, but the speed was just a little faster than normal. Neither one had began vibrating yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
She also noticed that rather than withdrawing, each of them simply paused between each new thrust, and remained stationary for a few seconds. Anna moved her head from side to side as she grunted and groaned in pain. Her body trembled.
Each thrust caused her to moan louder and longer. When at last they had gone as far as they could, the balls in her ass began their drumbeats. She writhed as best she could, but her movements were limited. The intruders did not move, but stayed in place for what seemed like hours as her moans turned to sobs. The balls slowly slid back a little, then forward with a jerk. She gasped and shrieked. Again and again it withdrew ever so slightly, and jerked forward. She shrieked and jerked her head back with each thrust. In a matter of moments, she was sobbing. The stake remained still as she suffered.
Sure enough, the strength in her legs soon gave out, and she lay them down slowly, still conscious of the pain which would result on her breasts, but also not wanting to hurt her ankles too much by moving her legs too fast. She moaned at the pull on her breasts, but she was far more preoccupied with the pain in her ass to care too much.
The balls made one last push, then stayed. She grunted as the vibration changed to a painful pulse, each pulse harsher than the last, with about a second's rest between each. After who knew how long, the time between the pulses grew longer and longer, until finally, they stopped.
The moment they did, the stake made its move.
Anna couldn't help but scream as it behaved as the balls had. The stake always made her feel as though she were being stabbed again and again. The speed was faster than she was used to, but not enough to allow her the mercy of fainting from the pain.
After a while, with both devices vibrating and fucking her at the same time, her legs back in the air to bring some relief to her breasts, Incel approached her with the fiberglass cane. He twirled it around like a baton. She stared in horror as she continued to scream.
"Now it is my turn to give you a choice," he said coldly, but patiently enough to ensure that every word was heard. "I can pause the machine in exchange for ten of your strokes with the cane, delivered to either your left breast or your right breast. But you must lie completely flat while I administer them. No raising your head or your legs. I take as long as I like, and then we resume with the machine. If you raise either your head or your legs while I deliver the strokes, I turn the machine back on, and those ten lashes will be added back to your tally. Do you agree?"
Anna's screams subsided to muffled moans while she listened to his offer. With tears in her eyes, she nodded and gulped.
"Yes."
Incel smiled with satisfaction. "Which breast then?"
Anna trembled. "L- l- left," she panted.
Incel slowly walked to the machine and pressed a button.
The vibrating stopped, but the dildos stayed where they were, which were the farthest in they could go. Her body trembled as he returned to her.
"I said we'd pause, not stop," he sneered. "The left breast it is. Lower your legs."
Anna slowly did as she was told, whimpering as she did so. The moment her legs were on the table, he flicked the cane on the underside of her stretched left breast.
The resulting fire caused her to shriek, but she remained still. In moments, he struck her again, this time diagonally intersecting the previous stroke. Another shriek. The next was directly on the base of her breast. She howled in pain, but otherwise did not move. Another near her clamped npple, the fifth directly on top of one of the random strikes from the previous whipping.
He was going fast. It was obvious he did not want to take too much time away from the agony of the machine.
TheLimey
Governor
The room echoed with Anna's scream as the sixth stroke with the cane landed on the underside of her nipple. Her hands curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. Every muscle strained to keep from moving, to stop the involuntary lifting of any part of her body. She had to hold on!
A seventh stroke fell diagonally across an earlier weal, and Anna howled as she felt the skin split. Incel had been careful in the past to never do anything that could leave a scar, or anything more than a bruise that couldn't have been explained away as due to a fall, but now he was free to exact whatever price he wanted.
Two more strokes landed in quick succession, and her howls redoubled in volume, as she felt the cane cut into her. She could feel the blood oozing from the cuts now, adding to the film of sweat that coated her. She was desperately trying not to move, her knuckles white with the strain.
The tenth stroke exploded across her nipple, and her vision swam as the clip cane off with the blow. She pushed her head back, fighting the urge not to curl up. She was sobbing, her body desperately trying to get air into her lungs. She had never known pain like this, though she knew Incel had a capability for inflicting pain that was far beyond anything had done to her, so far.
'Impressive..' Anna didn't know if Incel meant the fact she hadn't moved during this torture, or the effects of the fibre glass cane on her flesh. Incel leaned in close. 'It's a pity that you're going away. I would have love to take you out to dinner in something that showed off the weals on your breast. '
Anna cried out anew as he ran his hand across her breast, using his nails to graze at the cuts he had made. He reached for the chain, reattaching the clip to her left nipple.
She let her legs rise now, the tension on her breasts lessening, whilst Incel walked back to the machine, and set it going again.
'Time for rest is over, whore.'
The balls in her ass withdrew, and she moaned as she felt first one, then the second and third pull out of her. She knew what was coming next.
In one sudden movement, the balls pushed back in, at the same time as the stake in her pussy withdrew, only for the two intruders to reverse their movements a moment later. She shrieked at the pain as the machine fucked her. It felt like she was being split in two. Worse, with the pounding she was receiving, her legs and body were starting to jerk around, so her nipples were being tugged at, her left nipple in particular feeling like it was going to be torn off.
Incel lent over her. 'Another choice, whore. I can leave you here for an hour, just like this, or I can pause the machine again.'
Anna tried to focus on him through the pain. The cane on her right breast, she could just about accept that, even knowing how much her left breast had been cut up. Then she saw he had his erect cock in his hand.
'I will pause the machine, if you willingly suck my cock.'
A seventh stroke fell diagonally across an earlier weal, and Anna howled as she felt the skin split. Incel had been careful in the past to never do anything that could leave a scar, or anything more than a bruise that couldn't have been explained away as due to a fall, but now he was free to exact whatever price he wanted.
Two more strokes landed in quick succession, and her howls redoubled in volume, as she felt the cane cut into her. She could feel the blood oozing from the cuts now, adding to the film of sweat that coated her. She was desperately trying not to move, her knuckles white with the strain.
The tenth stroke exploded across her nipple, and her vision swam as the clip cane off with the blow. She pushed her head back, fighting the urge not to curl up. She was sobbing, her body desperately trying to get air into her lungs. She had never known pain like this, though she knew Incel had a capability for inflicting pain that was far beyond anything had done to her, so far.
'Impressive..' Anna didn't know if Incel meant the fact she hadn't moved during this torture, or the effects of the fibre glass cane on her flesh. Incel leaned in close. 'It's a pity that you're going away. I would have love to take you out to dinner in something that showed off the weals on your breast. '
Anna cried out anew as he ran his hand across her breast, using his nails to graze at the cuts he had made. He reached for the chain, reattaching the clip to her left nipple.
She let her legs rise now, the tension on her breasts lessening, whilst Incel walked back to the machine, and set it going again.
'Time for rest is over, whore.'
The balls in her ass withdrew, and she moaned as she felt first one, then the second and third pull out of her. She knew what was coming next.
In one sudden movement, the balls pushed back in, at the same time as the stake in her pussy withdrew, only for the two intruders to reverse their movements a moment later. She shrieked at the pain as the machine fucked her. It felt like she was being split in two. Worse, with the pounding she was receiving, her legs and body were starting to jerk around, so her nipples were being tugged at, her left nipple in particular feeling like it was going to be torn off.
Incel lent over her. 'Another choice, whore. I can leave you here for an hour, just like this, or I can pause the machine again.'
Anna tried to focus on him through the pain. The cane on her right breast, she could just about accept that, even knowing how much her left breast had been cut up. Then she saw he had his erect cock in his hand.
'I will pause the machine, if you willingly suck my cock.'
TheLimey
Governor
Anna managed to calm herself down enough to moan with her mouth closed while he made his offer. She clenched her teeth in pain as the machine continued to fuck her. She whimpered in torment, her head moving from side to side.
She panted, considering her fate carefully. Her shoulders trembled. She gulped, but smiled in spite of herself. She finally managed to meet his expectant gaze.
"Incels only get this by force," she taunted, though she was breathless. She panted and whimpered again. "You know better... than to... expect..." She paused, and merely shook her head. She took a minute to gather her strength. "Never," she said with a glare. "Last time together?" She panted and gulped. "I'll never have that in my mouth again." She smirked.
Incel took a deep breath to compose himself. His face hardened. How many times had she called her that ridiculous insult just since he'd summoned her?
He kept track of all the times, and knew that she would pay for each time, and relaxed. He nodded, and reached down to her ankles. She screamed as he pushed them down. He held them for several minutes, smiling with satisfaction as she continually screamed. The machine continued its hideous task, and her breasts stretched up.
He finally released her ankles, but quickly added heavier weights to them. She was still able to raise her legs, but it took more of an effort, and she wasn't able to raise them as high. She squealed in agony for several minutes while her breasts adjusted to this new strain.
Throughout the ordeal, Anna had never lifted her head. Now, she had to admit, it was tempting. The pull on her breasts was hellish.
Incel watched and waited while she suffered, then pressed a button on the machine. Both dildos had their vibrating features turned off, but now their pulses slammed into her walls. She yowled in anguish and jerked her head this way and that, yearning for some way to escape this madness.
Every so often, the dildos would alter their actions. For several minutes, they went back and forth in the opposite direction. Sometimes one would hover and pulse around the entrance into her, while the other knocked into her as far as it could go without any real relief. Sometimes they would fuck her in the same direction. Sometimes the vibration would alter between the two dildos, other times they were simultaneous.
Anna could barely keep silent throughout any part of the ordeal. Screaming, wailing, moaning, squealing, howling, even sobbing itself was loud. She had no idea how she could be sweating so much and still be hydrated.
By the time Incel walked back over to the machine, Anna was moaning and trembling. She felt she had no strength left. She didn't even notice he had returned until he cleared his throat. She looked at him and winced. He held the crop now, and it looked... wet... She pursed her lips as she smelled the vodka. Then she breathed deep through clenched teeth. She had never experienced this before, but she understood that two plus two could only equal four.
The machine was turned off and the things blessedly withdrew themselves from her. She heaved a deep breath in pain and relief. She could feel liquid leak from her body, and couldn't help but whimper. It hadn't been the first time he'd made her bleed; in fact, he'd made certain to do that every time she suffered this torture. The first time, the pathetic little Incel had even worn a black cape and gathered up her blood in a shot glass and proceeded to drink it. She made some snide remark about how Bela Lugosi was a sexier vampire than he could ever hope to be. That only earned her several more hours with that thing, but it was worth it to see how insecure he was.
"I offer now another choice," he said, smiling devilishly. "Ten strokes with the crop, on your left breast, or five strokes with the cane on your pussy. Either way, you must not scream until after the strokes have been administered." She wasn't sure how, but his grin somehow managed to broaden. She shuddered. "If you scream, you get the other strokes, and the lashes will be doubled for the one you didn't choose." He paused, as if reading her mind, then added, "If you choose neither, both sets of lashes will be administered, and both will be doubled." He sneered. "Make your choice, whore."
Anna's heart raced with panic. She could not allow the last option to happen. But did she really have the strength to be silent during either lashing? She gulped for air as she continued to tremble, thinking fast.
She'd never received more than five strokes with the fiberglass cane at any given time. That was why the earlier whipping was so horrific. Not only did he draw blood, but she had never had that many strikes before. With a vodka-soaked crop, which she only just now noticed had little bits of metal on the tip there was no way she could suffer any lashes with that directly on top of the marks left by the cane and remain silent. On the other hand, the strikes to her pussy would be agonizing after such an ordeal as the machine.
A calculated risk... Are you consistent enough with a quad flip, or try for a quad Salchow-triple toe loop-triple Salchow?
Anna gulped and nodded. She took a deep breath. "The fiberglass cane then."
She shuddered as he went back to his seat, and presumably set the crop aside for it to soak more vodka, before he returned with the cane and took his position.
Still trembling, Anna steeled herself and clenched her teeth and lips shut.
She panted, considering her fate carefully. Her shoulders trembled. She gulped, but smiled in spite of herself. She finally managed to meet his expectant gaze.
"Incels only get this by force," she taunted, though she was breathless. She panted and whimpered again. "You know better... than to... expect..." She paused, and merely shook her head. She took a minute to gather her strength. "Never," she said with a glare. "Last time together?" She panted and gulped. "I'll never have that in my mouth again." She smirked.
Incel took a deep breath to compose himself. His face hardened. How many times had she called her that ridiculous insult just since he'd summoned her?
He kept track of all the times, and knew that she would pay for each time, and relaxed. He nodded, and reached down to her ankles. She screamed as he pushed them down. He held them for several minutes, smiling with satisfaction as she continually screamed. The machine continued its hideous task, and her breasts stretched up.
He finally released her ankles, but quickly added heavier weights to them. She was still able to raise her legs, but it took more of an effort, and she wasn't able to raise them as high. She squealed in agony for several minutes while her breasts adjusted to this new strain.
Throughout the ordeal, Anna had never lifted her head. Now, she had to admit, it was tempting. The pull on her breasts was hellish.
Incel watched and waited while she suffered, then pressed a button on the machine. Both dildos had their vibrating features turned off, but now their pulses slammed into her walls. She yowled in anguish and jerked her head this way and that, yearning for some way to escape this madness.
Every so often, the dildos would alter their actions. For several minutes, they went back and forth in the opposite direction. Sometimes one would hover and pulse around the entrance into her, while the other knocked into her as far as it could go without any real relief. Sometimes they would fuck her in the same direction. Sometimes the vibration would alter between the two dildos, other times they were simultaneous.
Anna could barely keep silent throughout any part of the ordeal. Screaming, wailing, moaning, squealing, howling, even sobbing itself was loud. She had no idea how she could be sweating so much and still be hydrated.
By the time Incel walked back over to the machine, Anna was moaning and trembling. She felt she had no strength left. She didn't even notice he had returned until he cleared his throat. She looked at him and winced. He held the crop now, and it looked... wet... She pursed her lips as she smelled the vodka. Then she breathed deep through clenched teeth. She had never experienced this before, but she understood that two plus two could only equal four.
The machine was turned off and the things blessedly withdrew themselves from her. She heaved a deep breath in pain and relief. She could feel liquid leak from her body, and couldn't help but whimper. It hadn't been the first time he'd made her bleed; in fact, he'd made certain to do that every time she suffered this torture. The first time, the pathetic little Incel had even worn a black cape and gathered up her blood in a shot glass and proceeded to drink it. She made some snide remark about how Bela Lugosi was a sexier vampire than he could ever hope to be. That only earned her several more hours with that thing, but it was worth it to see how insecure he was.
"I offer now another choice," he said, smiling devilishly. "Ten strokes with the crop, on your left breast, or five strokes with the cane on your pussy. Either way, you must not scream until after the strokes have been administered." She wasn't sure how, but his grin somehow managed to broaden. She shuddered. "If you scream, you get the other strokes, and the lashes will be doubled for the one you didn't choose." He paused, as if reading her mind, then added, "If you choose neither, both sets of lashes will be administered, and both will be doubled." He sneered. "Make your choice, whore."
Anna's heart raced with panic. She could not allow the last option to happen. But did she really have the strength to be silent during either lashing? She gulped for air as she continued to tremble, thinking fast.
She'd never received more than five strokes with the fiberglass cane at any given time. That was why the earlier whipping was so horrific. Not only did he draw blood, but she had never had that many strikes before. With a vodka-soaked crop, which she only just now noticed had little bits of metal on the tip there was no way she could suffer any lashes with that directly on top of the marks left by the cane and remain silent. On the other hand, the strikes to her pussy would be agonizing after such an ordeal as the machine.
A calculated risk... Are you consistent enough with a quad flip, or try for a quad Salchow-triple toe loop-triple Salchow?
Anna gulped and nodded. She took a deep breath. "The fiberglass cane then."
She shuddered as he went back to his seat, and presumably set the crop aside for it to soak more vodka, before he returned with the cane and took his position.
Still trembling, Anna steeled herself and clenched her teeth and lips shut.
TheLimey
Governor
Incel paused at the very top of his top of his swing, and Anna knew that she was seeing the version of him that he held tightly in check. There had been whispers, overheard conversations between goons, of how he had treated business rivals in the past. Of how he had beaten those who had crossed him.
He dropped his arm, and the cane crashed against the junction of her right thigh and her torso. Anna jerked, her fists pounding on the table beneath her, but she kept her mouth clenched tight.
Another stroke, mirroring the first, and she realized that Incel was deliberately playing with her. He was bracketing the ultimate target, her clit. She had to hang on.
Incel smiled. 'You failed as a skater, whore, and you'll fail at this..'
The last three strokes came in a flurry, with frightening precision, slashing at the right, then the left, and finally straight down onto her pussy and clit. Anna reared up, and she screamed, sounding more like an animal than a human, the sound coming from her mouth half strangled by the chain that was now tight around her throat.
She was sobbing now, incoherent noises and phrases escaping her, as all thought was driven from her. She only realized that Incel had pulled out his cock and was fucking her when his weight thrust against her clit, causing another wave of agony to pass through her.
It wasn't long before she felt him pull out, felt the splash of hot semen across her stomach. Normally she would make another comment, talk about his failure as a lover, as a man, but she knew he was dangerous right now, so she took the chance to gather her strength as he padded over to the table, to where the crop had been placed, along with the glass of vodka.
He walked back over, clearly showing that the crop was wet with the alcohol, holding a half full bottle in his other hand. 'Vodka...what would we Russians do without vodka?'
He took a swig from the bottle, then spat it out in a spray over her torso and crotch.
Anna moaned as the alcohol burned on the weals that covered her pussy. If it did that on something that had barely broken her skin, even on her pussy, then she knew the crop was going to burn when it tore into her flesh.
He took a moment to adjust the chain around her neck, shortening it, forcing her keep her back on the table, and stretching her breasts to the fullest extent. She lifted her legs as much as she could to lessen the pull on her nipples, feeling the burn in her muscles as they acted against the weights.
Incel swung the crop in a back hand motion, and Anna howled as the blow landed in the underside of her left breast. She felt her skin tear, felt the warmth of her blood as it started to run down her side, felt the burn of the alcohol.
Incel paused for her cries to subside, and some part of Anna's brain that wasn't lost in the pain realized that he wanted her to feel every little bit of this torture, that he would deliberately go slow, not letting the pain from one blow mix with that from another.
The second blow tore into the top of her breast, crossing a point where weals had already intersected, and Anna screamed. It was all too much. The pain of the blows, the pull of the clips on her nipples, the cramping of her muscles.
A third blow, a fourth, and Anna felt the blood flow from each one, felt it spatter in her face, but it was feeling like it was happening at a distance. Her vision was starting to swim, and she knew she was about to black out.
The fifth blow crashed into her, just below her nipple, and her body jerked, the clips on both nipples flying off. Her screams redoubled, her voice breaking, as Incel poured the bottle of vodka over her breast, the alcohol burning like fire on the cuts and then she fell into blackness, blacking out as the waves of pain became too much.
He dropped his arm, and the cane crashed against the junction of her right thigh and her torso. Anna jerked, her fists pounding on the table beneath her, but she kept her mouth clenched tight.
Another stroke, mirroring the first, and she realized that Incel was deliberately playing with her. He was bracketing the ultimate target, her clit. She had to hang on.
Incel smiled. 'You failed as a skater, whore, and you'll fail at this..'
The last three strokes came in a flurry, with frightening precision, slashing at the right, then the left, and finally straight down onto her pussy and clit. Anna reared up, and she screamed, sounding more like an animal than a human, the sound coming from her mouth half strangled by the chain that was now tight around her throat.
She was sobbing now, incoherent noises and phrases escaping her, as all thought was driven from her. She only realized that Incel had pulled out his cock and was fucking her when his weight thrust against her clit, causing another wave of agony to pass through her.
It wasn't long before she felt him pull out, felt the splash of hot semen across her stomach. Normally she would make another comment, talk about his failure as a lover, as a man, but she knew he was dangerous right now, so she took the chance to gather her strength as he padded over to the table, to where the crop had been placed, along with the glass of vodka.
He walked back over, clearly showing that the crop was wet with the alcohol, holding a half full bottle in his other hand. 'Vodka...what would we Russians do without vodka?'
He took a swig from the bottle, then spat it out in a spray over her torso and crotch.
Anna moaned as the alcohol burned on the weals that covered her pussy. If it did that on something that had barely broken her skin, even on her pussy, then she knew the crop was going to burn when it tore into her flesh.
He took a moment to adjust the chain around her neck, shortening it, forcing her keep her back on the table, and stretching her breasts to the fullest extent. She lifted her legs as much as she could to lessen the pull on her nipples, feeling the burn in her muscles as they acted against the weights.
Incel swung the crop in a back hand motion, and Anna howled as the blow landed in the underside of her left breast. She felt her skin tear, felt the warmth of her blood as it started to run down her side, felt the burn of the alcohol.
Incel paused for her cries to subside, and some part of Anna's brain that wasn't lost in the pain realized that he wanted her to feel every little bit of this torture, that he would deliberately go slow, not letting the pain from one blow mix with that from another.
The second blow tore into the top of her breast, crossing a point where weals had already intersected, and Anna screamed. It was all too much. The pain of the blows, the pull of the clips on her nipples, the cramping of her muscles.
A third blow, a fourth, and Anna felt the blood flow from each one, felt it spatter in her face, but it was feeling like it was happening at a distance. Her vision was starting to swim, and she knew she was about to black out.
The fifth blow crashed into her, just below her nipple, and her body jerked, the clips on both nipples flying off. Her screams redoubled, her voice breaking, as Incel poured the bottle of vodka over her breast, the alcohol burning like fire on the cuts and then she fell into blackness, blacking out as the waves of pain became too much.
TheLimey
Governor
'It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word...
And then that word grew louder and louder
Till it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say "Goodbye..."
A long-sleeved white dress with delicate lace overlay. Glittering silver on the shoulders and chest gave the impression of armor.
Anna's mind was swimming, then floating. A bright light, so bright it hurt her eyes. Then, it dimmed to just a spotlight.
She stood at the entrance to the rink, silver skates on. Her hair braided and pinned into an ornate bun. A silver comb accented her hair. She smiled and skated onto the ice.
She'd heard the song before it started. She knew how much it meant to her. It had nothing to do with the film it was from, which was The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. She could care less about that. What mattered was the message of the song.
I'll come back... No need to say "Goodbye..." I'll come back...
She'd heard it at one of the competitions she was in. One of those kinds you only skate in for the money, and for the fans, not because it gets you any serious experience or chance to have your programs judged. This was one of those competitions sponsored by some store... Was it IKEA? Or was it a clothing store like JC Penny's? She couldn't remember, and she honestly didn't care. What mattered was that was where she had heard the song, from an American lady trying her best to be fiery and passionate.
But the song was neither of those. The song was, frankly, delicate. It didn't have many instruments, and none of them were rock, or house, even blues or country. This was something else. The girl was out of her league skating to it. Her choreography accented the fight the song alluded to, but that wasn't what the song needed. The song demanded more lasting choreography, moves that could be savored before going to the next. More importantly, the choreography had to build to the major points in the song, then pull back. Anna always hoped she would skate to this song someday. She found it online, and had memorized it. She could even sing it in Russian if she wanted to, since she'd translated the lyrics herself as best she could. Of course, translating song lyrics into other languages, you are destined to lose the poetic imagery and feeling of the original, but she did her best to capture it. She even recorded an amateur music demo of her singing it, and sent it to Valery. He was supposed to put his own piano and guitar to it, and some strings from his electronic keyboard.
Now that she thought of it, he was working on that now. He'd sent her some early attempts. He was hoping to use a layering software to create more nuanced instrumentations, but wasn't sure if it was what the song needed or deserved... He was just as passionate about the song as she was, wanting to get everything exactly right...
'Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light...
You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say "Goodbye..."
A one-footed Axel went straight into a quadruple toe loop. She landed in an Ina Bauer, a spread eagle with a bent knee, and reached out as she flowed across the ice. She could hear the crowd admiring her with their "Ooohs" and "Ahhs."
Everything she ever wanted was here.
Her face suddenly felt frigid water thrust upon it. She gasped and coughed.
No more white dress. No more glittery silver armor. No more skates. No more music. She was naked and in pain. She panted and shuddered. Her legs were spread wide, but she wasn't near the ground. Strong shackles were secured to them. The light was so bright it was blinding at first, but it didn't take her long to realize where she was.
The wall across from her was nothing but mirrors. She was suspended upside-down from a ballet barre, but this was higher than real ballet training rooms.
Anna steeled herself, narrowing her eyes. She knew this room's true purpose was to humiliate and taunt her as she suffered whatever Incel had in store for her.
She noticed the nylon rope around her wrists, secured to her back. She took a deep breath as she realized what each rope was connected to.
Both of her breasts were slightly swollen. Each rope around her wrist was secured around the base of each breast. As she tested the strain, she realized with horror that they were connected to the opposite breast; her left wrist was secured to her right breast, and her right wrist was secured to her left breast. Her heart started racing.
"Welcome back," Incel sneered. He sat on one of the bleachers that had been set up by the entrance to the room, perpendicular to the barre. Apparently, he had splashed her with the water, then allowed her to come to herself before saying anything.
Now he stood up and walked over to her with the crop in his hand. She whimpered as he flicked it in the air several times as he rhythmically strode over to her.
Her nipples were newly-clamped, this time with clover clamps. A short chain connected to them was pulled down by a heavy weight, which he tapped with his knee. Anna moaned as the weight swung, but never took her eyes off of him and the crop. She gulped as he reached back as if to strike.
Instead, he let it crack loudly, and allowed her to feel the wind from it.
She didn't understand at first why the air should cause such pain, then she remembered. The strikes from earlier, then the agony of the vodka-soaked crop...
Her eyes widened. She shook her head. No... No no no no no no no! She panted, unable to get enough breath to smell if the crop was soaked or not.
She didn't have to wonder for long. The next time he reached back, he slashed the air and struck her left breast. She yowled in agony and thrust her head back. Instinctively, her hands jerked, but they couldn't move far. All it accomplished was to cause pain from the nylon ropes around her breasts.
Strike after strike after strike, all on her left breast, just as he had promised. Many times, he went directly over those areas struck by the cane from earlier.
This time, when it seemed she might black out, he would pause and wait for her to regain her senses, never allowing her the peace of fainting a second time.
Occasionally, the tails of the crop would strike her right breast just a little, but for the most part, he avoided touching it. As promised, he only lashed her left breast.
She screamed after every lash, and he waited as the vodka from the crop settled into her skin before striking again. After just seven lashes, she was sobbing again, uncontrollably, through her shrieks and screams. She could see in the mirror how much her breast was cut, even from before. He'd apparently wiped off the blood from earlier. Doubtless he used vodka on the cuts as well. She was glad she wasn't awake to feel that fire.
"Gospodi!" she screamed as the crop struck her breast just above the rope. She wriggled, but could do nothing except aggravate her bonds, and cause the weight to swing. A few millimeters above that came the next stroke. Again, she shrieked, "Gospodi!" and sobbed, shaking her head. "Gospodi, pazhaluista!"
Incel took a deep breath as he paused. He smiled, savoring those words. How many times had he driven her to this point...
Not many, he realized. She'd said those words several times in response to being forced to perform degrading acts, but rarely was it ever a plea for relief from pain that Incel inflicted.
When her screams and sobs died down to moans and gulps for air, he leaned down and met her face.
"I am your god," he hissed, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. He grabbed her head before she could pull away and kept his tongue in her.
Until she bit it.
He let go and she jerked her head back.
"Fuck you, Incel!" she screamed.
Incel clenched his fists. The punishment for these insults would take up the last hour or so of their time, but he could certainly savor that. They still had several hours left, and he still had at least one more ordeal for her after this.
But first thing's first.
He smiled and reached up over his head. Anna knew what was coming thanks to the mirrors, and she braced herself. Sure enough, a hook was lowered and secured around the weight. A sharp yank thrust the weight upward, along with her breasts.
She hadn't expected this much pain to result from it. She screamed several times before Incel did anything else.
"You know," he said, taking a moment to caress her tortured left breast, "I still have seven lashes to give you with this, but I think I'll let this apple ripen before I pick them."
Anna shuddered as he walked back to the bleachers. She whimpered as she saw him return with the cane.
Her heart leapt into her chest as she remembered what was coming.
Ten strikes with the cane to her pussy. Dear God in Heaven... at least she didn't have to worry about being silent anymore. There was no way she'd be able to do it.
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word...
And then that word grew louder and louder
Till it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say "Goodbye..."
A long-sleeved white dress with delicate lace overlay. Glittering silver on the shoulders and chest gave the impression of armor.
Anna's mind was swimming, then floating. A bright light, so bright it hurt her eyes. Then, it dimmed to just a spotlight.
She stood at the entrance to the rink, silver skates on. Her hair braided and pinned into an ornate bun. A silver comb accented her hair. She smiled and skated onto the ice.
She'd heard the song before it started. She knew how much it meant to her. It had nothing to do with the film it was from, which was The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. She could care less about that. What mattered was the message of the song.
I'll come back... No need to say "Goodbye..." I'll come back...
She'd heard it at one of the competitions she was in. One of those kinds you only skate in for the money, and for the fans, not because it gets you any serious experience or chance to have your programs judged. This was one of those competitions sponsored by some store... Was it IKEA? Or was it a clothing store like JC Penny's? She couldn't remember, and she honestly didn't care. What mattered was that was where she had heard the song, from an American lady trying her best to be fiery and passionate.
But the song was neither of those. The song was, frankly, delicate. It didn't have many instruments, and none of them were rock, or house, even blues or country. This was something else. The girl was out of her league skating to it. Her choreography accented the fight the song alluded to, but that wasn't what the song needed. The song demanded more lasting choreography, moves that could be savored before going to the next. More importantly, the choreography had to build to the major points in the song, then pull back. Anna always hoped she would skate to this song someday. She found it online, and had memorized it. She could even sing it in Russian if she wanted to, since she'd translated the lyrics herself as best she could. Of course, translating song lyrics into other languages, you are destined to lose the poetic imagery and feeling of the original, but she did her best to capture it. She even recorded an amateur music demo of her singing it, and sent it to Valery. He was supposed to put his own piano and guitar to it, and some strings from his electronic keyboard.
Now that she thought of it, he was working on that now. He'd sent her some early attempts. He was hoping to use a layering software to create more nuanced instrumentations, but wasn't sure if it was what the song needed or deserved... He was just as passionate about the song as she was, wanting to get everything exactly right...
'Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light...
You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say "Goodbye..."
A one-footed Axel went straight into a quadruple toe loop. She landed in an Ina Bauer, a spread eagle with a bent knee, and reached out as she flowed across the ice. She could hear the crowd admiring her with their "Ooohs" and "Ahhs."
Everything she ever wanted was here.
Her face suddenly felt frigid water thrust upon it. She gasped and coughed.
No more white dress. No more glittery silver armor. No more skates. No more music. She was naked and in pain. She panted and shuddered. Her legs were spread wide, but she wasn't near the ground. Strong shackles were secured to them. The light was so bright it was blinding at first, but it didn't take her long to realize where she was.
The wall across from her was nothing but mirrors. She was suspended upside-down from a ballet barre, but this was higher than real ballet training rooms.
Anna steeled herself, narrowing her eyes. She knew this room's true purpose was to humiliate and taunt her as she suffered whatever Incel had in store for her.
She noticed the nylon rope around her wrists, secured to her back. She took a deep breath as she realized what each rope was connected to.
Both of her breasts were slightly swollen. Each rope around her wrist was secured around the base of each breast. As she tested the strain, she realized with horror that they were connected to the opposite breast; her left wrist was secured to her right breast, and her right wrist was secured to her left breast. Her heart started racing.
"Welcome back," Incel sneered. He sat on one of the bleachers that had been set up by the entrance to the room, perpendicular to the barre. Apparently, he had splashed her with the water, then allowed her to come to herself before saying anything.
Now he stood up and walked over to her with the crop in his hand. She whimpered as he flicked it in the air several times as he rhythmically strode over to her.
Her nipples were newly-clamped, this time with clover clamps. A short chain connected to them was pulled down by a heavy weight, which he tapped with his knee. Anna moaned as the weight swung, but never took her eyes off of him and the crop. She gulped as he reached back as if to strike.
Instead, he let it crack loudly, and allowed her to feel the wind from it.
She didn't understand at first why the air should cause such pain, then she remembered. The strikes from earlier, then the agony of the vodka-soaked crop...
Her eyes widened. She shook her head. No... No no no no no no no! She panted, unable to get enough breath to smell if the crop was soaked or not.
She didn't have to wonder for long. The next time he reached back, he slashed the air and struck her left breast. She yowled in agony and thrust her head back. Instinctively, her hands jerked, but they couldn't move far. All it accomplished was to cause pain from the nylon ropes around her breasts.
Strike after strike after strike, all on her left breast, just as he had promised. Many times, he went directly over those areas struck by the cane from earlier.
This time, when it seemed she might black out, he would pause and wait for her to regain her senses, never allowing her the peace of fainting a second time.
Occasionally, the tails of the crop would strike her right breast just a little, but for the most part, he avoided touching it. As promised, he only lashed her left breast.
She screamed after every lash, and he waited as the vodka from the crop settled into her skin before striking again. After just seven lashes, she was sobbing again, uncontrollably, through her shrieks and screams. She could see in the mirror how much her breast was cut, even from before. He'd apparently wiped off the blood from earlier. Doubtless he used vodka on the cuts as well. She was glad she wasn't awake to feel that fire.
"Gospodi!" she screamed as the crop struck her breast just above the rope. She wriggled, but could do nothing except aggravate her bonds, and cause the weight to swing. A few millimeters above that came the next stroke. Again, she shrieked, "Gospodi!" and sobbed, shaking her head. "Gospodi, pazhaluista!"
Incel took a deep breath as he paused. He smiled, savoring those words. How many times had he driven her to this point...
Not many, he realized. She'd said those words several times in response to being forced to perform degrading acts, but rarely was it ever a plea for relief from pain that Incel inflicted.
When her screams and sobs died down to moans and gulps for air, he leaned down and met her face.
"I am your god," he hissed, and thrust his tongue into her mouth. He grabbed her head before she could pull away and kept his tongue in her.
Until she bit it.
He let go and she jerked her head back.
"Fuck you, Incel!" she screamed.
Incel clenched his fists. The punishment for these insults would take up the last hour or so of their time, but he could certainly savor that. They still had several hours left, and he still had at least one more ordeal for her after this.
But first thing's first.
He smiled and reached up over his head. Anna knew what was coming thanks to the mirrors, and she braced herself. Sure enough, a hook was lowered and secured around the weight. A sharp yank thrust the weight upward, along with her breasts.
She hadn't expected this much pain to result from it. She screamed several times before Incel did anything else.
"You know," he said, taking a moment to caress her tortured left breast, "I still have seven lashes to give you with this, but I think I'll let this apple ripen before I pick them."
Anna shuddered as he walked back to the bleachers. She whimpered as she saw him return with the cane.
Her heart leapt into her chest as she remembered what was coming.
Ten strikes with the cane to her pussy. Dear God in Heaven... at least she didn't have to worry about being silent anymore. There was no way she'd be able to do it.
TheLimey
Governor
Anna screamed as the blow dissected her pussy, crashing against her clit. How many times now, three? Four? She didn't know any longer. Nothing was in her mind except pain.
Between each stroke Incel stepped aside, so nothing could block Anna's view of herself in the mirrors. The sight of herself in the mirrors shocked her.
A few years ago, she had featured as part of an article on up and coming athletes in Russia. The photos were artistic, shot in black and white, and for all of the athletes featured, partially nude. She hated the shoot, hated the leers she got from the cameraman, but she loved the way the images looked when they were published. The press adored her.
Now, she hardly recognized that woman.
Her thighs and crotch were covered in angry red weals, some of them oozing blood, particularly the ones on the lips of her pussy. Her breasts were both starting to turn a shade of purple from the blood that was being held in them by the ropes around their bases. The left breast was a mass of weals and cuts, many of which were bleeding, the blood flowing along her upper chest and dripping into the floor from her collar bone. She was oily with old sweat, her hair hanging in greasy strands from her head.
Her view was blocked again as Incel stepped in and swung again, just enough time for her to try to steel herself for the blow, but it didn't matter, nothing she could do would stop her from screaming.
Incel knelt down, and grabbed Anna by the hair, hauling on it to bring her head directly beneath his. 'I wish I could see what you are going to look like in a few weeks, whore. This is child's play compared to what you are going to go through.'
Weeks? She was going to be sold, and then tortured? What the fuck had he planned for her future?'
The shock must have crept through the mask of pain she was wearing. 'Oh, yes. I have something special arranged just for you. A farewell gift to an ungrateful whore.
'P...people will k..know I have disappeared....Qu...questions will be asked...'
Incel fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone, and started to read from it.
'Moscow based ice skater Anna Smolenskaya has left the country to have an operation on her anterior cruciate ligament. Her representative has said she has gone to a specialized clinic in China, in order to treat a tear in her ACL that recently occured. It is requested that she be given privacy whilst she recovers from what could be a career ending injury if the operation on not performed.. and blah, blah, blah.'
'In two weeks, I will release that statement, by which time you will be long gone.' He sneered at her. 'I will of course keep the public informed of your progress, or lack thereof, and eventually have to sadly announce you have killed yourself, bitter that you could never skate again. I will weep in public, and announce a special fund in your memory, for upcoming skaters.'
Anna's heart leapt on this. The idiot would bring himself crashing to the ground! Valery would know it was a lie. Valery had always said that if something happened to her, he would act, and she knew he would do whatever it took.
But there was something else. The Skating Federation would want to know what was going on, how she was injured, why she hadn't been evaluated in Russia, who the Doctor was in China. Incel didn't really understand how the system worked. At the beginning of his involvement with her, he had tried to bribe some of the Federation officials, and only her intervention with the officials, only her explanation that he wanted to support her in the most direct way possible, had smoothed things over.
She had to hang on now. Had to get through Incel's games today, and whatever Hell he had arranged for her. At some point, the story would come out. Incel and his friend's would fall, and people would be looking for her, worldwide. The thought gave her renewed strength.
He dropped his hold on her hair, and she swung back, hanging vertically again. 'I'm going to miss your screams...' he said, as he let loose with another vicious cut, smiling as her cries echoed in the room again.
Between each stroke Incel stepped aside, so nothing could block Anna's view of herself in the mirrors. The sight of herself in the mirrors shocked her.
A few years ago, she had featured as part of an article on up and coming athletes in Russia. The photos were artistic, shot in black and white, and for all of the athletes featured, partially nude. She hated the shoot, hated the leers she got from the cameraman, but she loved the way the images looked when they were published. The press adored her.
Now, she hardly recognized that woman.
Her thighs and crotch were covered in angry red weals, some of them oozing blood, particularly the ones on the lips of her pussy. Her breasts were both starting to turn a shade of purple from the blood that was being held in them by the ropes around their bases. The left breast was a mass of weals and cuts, many of which were bleeding, the blood flowing along her upper chest and dripping into the floor from her collar bone. She was oily with old sweat, her hair hanging in greasy strands from her head.
Her view was blocked again as Incel stepped in and swung again, just enough time for her to try to steel herself for the blow, but it didn't matter, nothing she could do would stop her from screaming.
Incel knelt down, and grabbed Anna by the hair, hauling on it to bring her head directly beneath his. 'I wish I could see what you are going to look like in a few weeks, whore. This is child's play compared to what you are going to go through.'
Weeks? She was going to be sold, and then tortured? What the fuck had he planned for her future?'
The shock must have crept through the mask of pain she was wearing. 'Oh, yes. I have something special arranged just for you. A farewell gift to an ungrateful whore.
'P...people will k..know I have disappeared....Qu...questions will be asked...'
Incel fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone, and started to read from it.
'Moscow based ice skater Anna Smolenskaya has left the country to have an operation on her anterior cruciate ligament. Her representative has said she has gone to a specialized clinic in China, in order to treat a tear in her ACL that recently occured. It is requested that she be given privacy whilst she recovers from what could be a career ending injury if the operation on not performed.. and blah, blah, blah.'
'In two weeks, I will release that statement, by which time you will be long gone.' He sneered at her. 'I will of course keep the public informed of your progress, or lack thereof, and eventually have to sadly announce you have killed yourself, bitter that you could never skate again. I will weep in public, and announce a special fund in your memory, for upcoming skaters.'
Anna's heart leapt on this. The idiot would bring himself crashing to the ground! Valery would know it was a lie. Valery had always said that if something happened to her, he would act, and she knew he would do whatever it took.
But there was something else. The Skating Federation would want to know what was going on, how she was injured, why she hadn't been evaluated in Russia, who the Doctor was in China. Incel didn't really understand how the system worked. At the beginning of his involvement with her, he had tried to bribe some of the Federation officials, and only her intervention with the officials, only her explanation that he wanted to support her in the most direct way possible, had smoothed things over.
She had to hang on now. Had to get through Incel's games today, and whatever Hell he had arranged for her. At some point, the story would come out. Incel and his friend's would fall, and people would be looking for her, worldwide. The thought gave her renewed strength.
He dropped his hold on her hair, and she swung back, hanging vertically again. 'I'm going to miss your screams...' he said, as he let loose with another vicious cut, smiling as her cries echoed in the room again.
TheLimey
Governor
Anna could barely think because of the pain. It was only because of that brief moment where he told her of his plan that she was able to think at least a little clearly. She had to hang on. In the name of God, she had to hang on.
She didn't know what Fate had in store for her exactly, but whatever it was, it would only be for a short while. The GRU and FSB would surely search for her. Once the outcry from around the world was all they could hear, they'd be forced to act. It wasn't like she was lawfully - as if there was such a thing anymore - arrested, for protesting the war or supporting Navalny...
She shuddered instinctively as Incel laid on the next blow. Navalny... The war... She had been an ally of Navalny. Publicly. She had protested the war. Again, publicly. That was partly why "Volodya" privately encouraged Incel to be so harsh with her the last few years. She knew that for a fact. If it weren't for Incel's control, she would have fled the country long ago, like some of her friends had.
But the Federation had promised they would control her, and so far, she had allowed them to. They would still protect her. They would still demand answers.
She took a deep breath, yowling again at the next strike on her pussy. She had to wonder if he was just lashing her for fun now, not caring about those ten lashes. Either that, or she was so delirious she couldn't focus on how many he had given her.
The Federation will take notice. They will want answers. They can't afford to have Russia be seen as a dangerous place for their own athletes, regardless of their athletes' politics. Skaters were going abroad to train so the International Skating Union and the International Olympic Committee would allow them to remain eligible for competitions, including the Olympics in 2026...
Anna gulped, her mind swimming again.
2026... Seems like a lifetime away, especially now...
She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to focus on the near future. Focus on the Federation. Focus on her way out.
Anna stiffened as the blows did not continue for several minutes. She heard Incel's footsteps walking away. Carefully, she opened her eyes. He was by the bleachers, getting a large cooler.
Not more vodka...
Anna shuddered once more, and squeezed her eyes shut again when he turned back toward her.
She gasped as she felt an icy shard slice through the sole of her foot, right along where the barbed rubber whip had struck her earlier. Her eyes flew open. She jerked helplessly, but because of her position, all she succeeded in doing was swaying her upper body and jerking her arms slightly. All that accomplished was to torture her breasts.
Her foot wasn't cut, it just felt like it was. It was a large, thin piece of ice...
She knew that shape... a skate blade. But the heat of her body was already causing it to melt slightly, so it wasn't as if he had frozen an actual blade.
Now she remembered. At a party some time back, they had had those ice shapes, as well as medals, flags, Olympic rings, and skates themselves as part of the refreshments for the guests.
Ordinarily, the ice would be refreshing on her injuries, but the way he was teasing her with it, scraping this way and that, directly over the marks he had made, the ice melting fast and leaving ice-cold water in its wake, it was hard to find relief.
He continued with more ice blades on the soles of her feet for some time. She moaned loudly as he went in different directions over the same welt. The pressure varied too, almost like he was using her as a musical instrument to get the sound he wanted from her.
The water began dripping down her legs, bringing the first welcome relief since she'd been summoned.
He picked up another piece of ice from the cooler. He ran it along her legs now, pausing at particularly deep welts and pushing hard into them. She shrieked and jerked each time. The weight attached to her breast started to swing gently due to the movement. This only made her want to move more in response.
Up and down her leg he went, but never touching her battered groin area. Whenever one melted, he got another. The water now dripped either onto the floor, or her groin. She moaned. She hadn't expected that water to cause as much pain as it did once it hit some of the marks left by the fiberglass cane.
He moved along her other leg now, and did the same thing. She was now having more of a relief than suffering any pain.
He picked up a large piece of ice, a medal, more thick than any of the blades, and ran its rim along the base of her right breast.
She shrieked and jerked, but he maintained his course. She shrieked and jerked again and again as he ran the ice along the base. Back and forth he went, each time getting a more fervent reaction. After several moments, he reached up and grabbed the weight from above. Without a word, he yanked it downward as hard as he could.
The resulting scream was possibly the worst yet. Anna's breasts stretched, the nylon rope constricted tighter, and Anna could not keep still, which only made things worse. With his free hand, he continued along the base of her right breast while she thrashed.
"If I had known you would be this entertaining, I wouldn't have sold you," he said, snickering as he tapped the ice medal's rim like Morse code along the base of her right breast. "I thought you wanted your tits stretched," he added with a shrug. "In the other room, you seemed quite content with that." Another snicker. "Didn't want to slip into unconsciousness, ah? How gracious of you to consider my entertainment."
He took the medal away, only to place it around her clamped nipple. She continued to jerk and shriek, and sob.
"You want this up?" he asked curiously, swinging the weight a bit. Anna was too busy yowling to answer. After a few moments, he released the weight, which practically flew up into the air and bounced several times. Anna thrashed and screamed again and again, then broke into uncontrollable sobs.
"To think I haven't even started on this yet," Incel said with a shrug, and jabbed a finger into a particularly angry welt on her left breast. Again, she thrashed and screamed. She shook her head. "Of course, I won't. Not until I finish with those lashes I owe you." He grinned.
The ice medal in his hand had barely any signs of melting. He moved it in all sorts of directions on her right breasts, gauging what areas to exploit.
But instead, he rose and moved behind her with the ice medal. The next thing Anna knew, her ass felt a hideous sting of ice against one of the deeper welts from the barbed rubber whip.
She didn't know what Fate had in store for her exactly, but whatever it was, it would only be for a short while. The GRU and FSB would surely search for her. Once the outcry from around the world was all they could hear, they'd be forced to act. It wasn't like she was lawfully - as if there was such a thing anymore - arrested, for protesting the war or supporting Navalny...
She shuddered instinctively as Incel laid on the next blow. Navalny... The war... She had been an ally of Navalny. Publicly. She had protested the war. Again, publicly. That was partly why "Volodya" privately encouraged Incel to be so harsh with her the last few years. She knew that for a fact. If it weren't for Incel's control, she would have fled the country long ago, like some of her friends had.
But the Federation had promised they would control her, and so far, she had allowed them to. They would still protect her. They would still demand answers.
She took a deep breath, yowling again at the next strike on her pussy. She had to wonder if he was just lashing her for fun now, not caring about those ten lashes. Either that, or she was so delirious she couldn't focus on how many he had given her.
The Federation will take notice. They will want answers. They can't afford to have Russia be seen as a dangerous place for their own athletes, regardless of their athletes' politics. Skaters were going abroad to train so the International Skating Union and the International Olympic Committee would allow them to remain eligible for competitions, including the Olympics in 2026...
Anna gulped, her mind swimming again.
2026... Seems like a lifetime away, especially now...
She squeezed her eyes shut. She had to focus on the near future. Focus on the Federation. Focus on her way out.
Anna stiffened as the blows did not continue for several minutes. She heard Incel's footsteps walking away. Carefully, she opened her eyes. He was by the bleachers, getting a large cooler.
Not more vodka...
Anna shuddered once more, and squeezed her eyes shut again when he turned back toward her.
She gasped as she felt an icy shard slice through the sole of her foot, right along where the barbed rubber whip had struck her earlier. Her eyes flew open. She jerked helplessly, but because of her position, all she succeeded in doing was swaying her upper body and jerking her arms slightly. All that accomplished was to torture her breasts.
Her foot wasn't cut, it just felt like it was. It was a large, thin piece of ice...
She knew that shape... a skate blade. But the heat of her body was already causing it to melt slightly, so it wasn't as if he had frozen an actual blade.
Now she remembered. At a party some time back, they had had those ice shapes, as well as medals, flags, Olympic rings, and skates themselves as part of the refreshments for the guests.
Ordinarily, the ice would be refreshing on her injuries, but the way he was teasing her with it, scraping this way and that, directly over the marks he had made, the ice melting fast and leaving ice-cold water in its wake, it was hard to find relief.
He continued with more ice blades on the soles of her feet for some time. She moaned loudly as he went in different directions over the same welt. The pressure varied too, almost like he was using her as a musical instrument to get the sound he wanted from her.
The water began dripping down her legs, bringing the first welcome relief since she'd been summoned.
He picked up another piece of ice from the cooler. He ran it along her legs now, pausing at particularly deep welts and pushing hard into them. She shrieked and jerked each time. The weight attached to her breast started to swing gently due to the movement. This only made her want to move more in response.
Up and down her leg he went, but never touching her battered groin area. Whenever one melted, he got another. The water now dripped either onto the floor, or her groin. She moaned. She hadn't expected that water to cause as much pain as it did once it hit some of the marks left by the fiberglass cane.
He moved along her other leg now, and did the same thing. She was now having more of a relief than suffering any pain.
He picked up a large piece of ice, a medal, more thick than any of the blades, and ran its rim along the base of her right breast.
She shrieked and jerked, but he maintained his course. She shrieked and jerked again and again as he ran the ice along the base. Back and forth he went, each time getting a more fervent reaction. After several moments, he reached up and grabbed the weight from above. Without a word, he yanked it downward as hard as he could.
The resulting scream was possibly the worst yet. Anna's breasts stretched, the nylon rope constricted tighter, and Anna could not keep still, which only made things worse. With his free hand, he continued along the base of her right breast while she thrashed.
"If I had known you would be this entertaining, I wouldn't have sold you," he said, snickering as he tapped the ice medal's rim like Morse code along the base of her right breast. "I thought you wanted your tits stretched," he added with a shrug. "In the other room, you seemed quite content with that." Another snicker. "Didn't want to slip into unconsciousness, ah? How gracious of you to consider my entertainment."
He took the medal away, only to place it around her clamped nipple. She continued to jerk and shriek, and sob.
"You want this up?" he asked curiously, swinging the weight a bit. Anna was too busy yowling to answer. After a few moments, he released the weight, which practically flew up into the air and bounced several times. Anna thrashed and screamed again and again, then broke into uncontrollable sobs.
"To think I haven't even started on this yet," Incel said with a shrug, and jabbed a finger into a particularly angry welt on her left breast. Again, she thrashed and screamed. She shook her head. "Of course, I won't. Not until I finish with those lashes I owe you." He grinned.
The ice medal in his hand had barely any signs of melting. He moved it in all sorts of directions on her right breasts, gauging what areas to exploit.
But instead, he rose and moved behind her with the ice medal. The next thing Anna knew, her ass felt a hideous sting of ice against one of the deeper welts from the barbed rubber whip.
thecuriousone
Governor
The story is getting longer and longer. I like it, but when it's completed, I would love to get my hands on a pdf or textfile to read it in one go.
TheLimey
Governor
Incel didn't hide the sarcasm in his voice.
'What? Does the skater have an issue with ice now?' He scraped the melting edge of the ice medal along a cut on her arse, and Anna cried out again.
He was being so careful not to focus on any one spot too much. Ice would numb the pain, and Anna knew he didn't want that. He wanted to keep every nerve on edge. No matter how careful he was, the ice was helping her, a little. The trickles of cold water on her tortured skin were a relief, of a sort.
'Dont worry, I will warm you up again, soon.'
Anna knew what he meant. There were still seven strokes of the crop on her left breast to come, though she was certain he wasn't keeping any form of count now. She was trying to delay that, putting a little bit of acting into her cries, to keep him from returning to the crop too soon.
She didn't need to act when he ran the medal along her pussy though, straight along a vicious red weal. She jerked, the movement setting the weight moving, pulling on her painfully sore nipples.
'Don't worry, whore, I'll get back to here in a moment.'
He tossed the medal to one side, and crossed back to the cooler, bringing it over to sit off to one side, placing a small bottle of vodka on top of the cooler. Anna expected him to open it immediately, but she couldn't help the sharp intake of breath when he instead reached for the crop again.
'So, whore, should I continue on your left breast?' He punctuated the word whore by tapping the end of the crop against the underside of that breast.
'Or should I bring the other breast into play?' He didn't tap this time, swinging freely to bring the crop down on her so far almost untouched right breast, hard enough to have Anna cry out, hard enough to leave a weal, but not break the skin.
'Ahh, you agree with me! The right it is then!' He swung again, and Anna screamed as she felt the skin on the underside of her breast tear.
'I am amazed you still a voice left. I must not be treating you hard enough.' Incel chuckled. 'Time to change that before I carry on, I guess.'
He put down the crop, and opened the cooler, pulling out something wrapped in plastic. Anna's eyes grew wide as he unwrapped the object, revealing a solid dildo made of ice.
No, it wasn't solid. There was a void in it, that ran down the center of the dildo, all the way from the base, almost to the bulbous glans that the ice cock possessed.
He reached up with his hand, pulling apart the lips of her pussy. 'You've always been a frigid bitch, this just suits your nature....'
He pushed the dildo in, a slow inexorable force, Anna moaning all the way. The ice was burning on the inside of her cunt, chilling her very core, but at the same time, she knew it would help dull the pain.
Incel grabbed the crop again. 'Now let's deal with this virgin flesh...!'
He was in a hurry again. Anna screamed as blow after blow rained down on her right breast, the skin splitting as the crop bit in. She was starting to feel unconsciousness creeping over her when he threw the crop down. She could see little drops of red on his shirt, where her blood had spattered.
'Thirsty work! He grabbed the small bottle. 'The Western idiots say the best vodka should be chilled, but then you miss the true taste of it,' said Incel. He took a good pull from it, and wrinkled up his face. 'Still, I think the Pertsovka I have here could do with some ice.'
He brought the bottle up to the ice dildo inside her pussy, and she realized what he was going to do.
Could she hold on, even through this? The ice in her pussy had dulled the pain from the cuts the fucking machine had left behind, but soon the ice would melt, and if the inside was filled with pepper vodka...?
She could see Incel tip the bottle. The dildo can't have held much for it was a matter of seconds before she felt the overflow on her pussy lips, and running down over her arse hole.
'Oh.....fuck...' The burn didn't start instantaneously, but she it didn't take long before she could feel it start to work its horrible magic where it had flowed down her
Incel laughed. 'A present from Volodya. He said I should save it for a special occasion. I think your farewell is special enough don't you?'
'F..fuck you...' she spat out the words, even though she could start to feel the burn inside her.. 'F...uck you....and fuck....V..V..Volodya...!'
'You can feel it already, can't you? The burn of the peppers..'
'Nnnnnn...nnno....' Anna was desperate, trying not to show how much pain she was in. Her pussy felt like it was on fire, and she was struggling to keep it together, to keep herself from breaking.
'No? Perhaps this is what you need...'
He opened the bottle, and poured the rest of the contents over the fresh, bloody, bloody cuts on her right breast. Anna's reaction was almost instantaneous, her torso twisting and rocking, adding even more pain to her overloading system as the weight pulled in her tortured nipples.
'F...fuck...... Pl...please.... M...make it stop!!!!'
'Hmm?' Incel mockingly cupped a hand around his ear. 'What did you say?'
'B...b...begging you... Whip me...F...f..fuck...me.... ' Anna was almost babbling, her eyes screwed shut, tears streaming from her, her gleaming chest having. 'P..please.....Make it stop!'
Incel smiled.
'What? Does the skater have an issue with ice now?' He scraped the melting edge of the ice medal along a cut on her arse, and Anna cried out again.
He was being so careful not to focus on any one spot too much. Ice would numb the pain, and Anna knew he didn't want that. He wanted to keep every nerve on edge. No matter how careful he was, the ice was helping her, a little. The trickles of cold water on her tortured skin were a relief, of a sort.
'Dont worry, I will warm you up again, soon.'
Anna knew what he meant. There were still seven strokes of the crop on her left breast to come, though she was certain he wasn't keeping any form of count now. She was trying to delay that, putting a little bit of acting into her cries, to keep him from returning to the crop too soon.
She didn't need to act when he ran the medal along her pussy though, straight along a vicious red weal. She jerked, the movement setting the weight moving, pulling on her painfully sore nipples.
'Don't worry, whore, I'll get back to here in a moment.'
He tossed the medal to one side, and crossed back to the cooler, bringing it over to sit off to one side, placing a small bottle of vodka on top of the cooler. Anna expected him to open it immediately, but she couldn't help the sharp intake of breath when he instead reached for the crop again.
'So, whore, should I continue on your left breast?' He punctuated the word whore by tapping the end of the crop against the underside of that breast.
'Or should I bring the other breast into play?' He didn't tap this time, swinging freely to bring the crop down on her so far almost untouched right breast, hard enough to have Anna cry out, hard enough to leave a weal, but not break the skin.
'Ahh, you agree with me! The right it is then!' He swung again, and Anna screamed as she felt the skin on the underside of her breast tear.
'I am amazed you still a voice left. I must not be treating you hard enough.' Incel chuckled. 'Time to change that before I carry on, I guess.'
He put down the crop, and opened the cooler, pulling out something wrapped in plastic. Anna's eyes grew wide as he unwrapped the object, revealing a solid dildo made of ice.
No, it wasn't solid. There was a void in it, that ran down the center of the dildo, all the way from the base, almost to the bulbous glans that the ice cock possessed.
He reached up with his hand, pulling apart the lips of her pussy. 'You've always been a frigid bitch, this just suits your nature....'
He pushed the dildo in, a slow inexorable force, Anna moaning all the way. The ice was burning on the inside of her cunt, chilling her very core, but at the same time, she knew it would help dull the pain.
Incel grabbed the crop again. 'Now let's deal with this virgin flesh...!'
He was in a hurry again. Anna screamed as blow after blow rained down on her right breast, the skin splitting as the crop bit in. She was starting to feel unconsciousness creeping over her when he threw the crop down. She could see little drops of red on his shirt, where her blood had spattered.
'Thirsty work! He grabbed the small bottle. 'The Western idiots say the best vodka should be chilled, but then you miss the true taste of it,' said Incel. He took a good pull from it, and wrinkled up his face. 'Still, I think the Pertsovka I have here could do with some ice.'
He brought the bottle up to the ice dildo inside her pussy, and she realized what he was going to do.
Could she hold on, even through this? The ice in her pussy had dulled the pain from the cuts the fucking machine had left behind, but soon the ice would melt, and if the inside was filled with pepper vodka...?
She could see Incel tip the bottle. The dildo can't have held much for it was a matter of seconds before she felt the overflow on her pussy lips, and running down over her arse hole.
'Oh.....fuck...' The burn didn't start instantaneously, but she it didn't take long before she could feel it start to work its horrible magic where it had flowed down her
Incel laughed. 'A present from Volodya. He said I should save it for a special occasion. I think your farewell is special enough don't you?'
'F..fuck you...' she spat out the words, even though she could start to feel the burn inside her.. 'F...uck you....and fuck....V..V..Volodya...!'
'You can feel it already, can't you? The burn of the peppers..'
'Nnnnnn...nnno....' Anna was desperate, trying not to show how much pain she was in. Her pussy felt like it was on fire, and she was struggling to keep it together, to keep herself from breaking.
'No? Perhaps this is what you need...'
He opened the bottle, and poured the rest of the contents over the fresh, bloody, bloody cuts on her right breast. Anna's reaction was almost instantaneous, her torso twisting and rocking, adding even more pain to her overloading system as the weight pulled in her tortured nipples.
'F...fuck...... Pl...please.... M...make it stop!!!!'
'Hmm?' Incel mockingly cupped a hand around his ear. 'What did you say?'
'B...b...begging you... Whip me...F...f..fuck...me.... ' Anna was almost babbling, her eyes screwed shut, tears streaming from her, her gleaming chest having. 'P..please.....Make it stop!'
Incel smiled.