Judicial Corporal Punishment Of Women: Stories And Novels

[Tiredny]

Orange Turns Black and Blue continued...



Lead CO then continued, “A big THANK YOU to Maxine. Again, we have those two implements. It's your choice, but the default is the paddle. Further, at any time Nurse Radcliff, based upon her assessment of your backside, can require that we switch to the strap or even suspend all further punishment. Our nurse's decision is final and NOT up for debate.”

“So let's get going. You don't want to be here; we don't want to be here, so the faster we proceed, the sooner we all get out. OK, let's line up! To my left I want all 100 series SHOT's, to the right of them 200 series and to their right 300 series. Once in groups, you may talk, but QUIETLY. OK so of the 100 series, who's first?”

There were two slim Latino inmates in the 100 series group and one of them stepped forward and handed her form to the Lead CO. Turning to the other CO's, the Lead CO whispered, “So who wants Sanchez?” There was more whispering, but all that could be heard was the Lead CO saying, “I don't care as long as I get Maxine.”

Finally, one of the female CO's stepped forward and commanded, “Drop them!”

At which Sanchez dropped both trousers and underpants (aka granny bags) to her ankles. She then leaned over the padded ramp and reached out saying, “Strap por favor!”

The CO put a handle in each of the inmate's hands and next used the bungees to pull her upper garments clear of her now bare bottom. She then took the prison strap off the hook and asked, “Ready, Sanchez?”

While the preparations were ongoing, Pepper turned to Maxine and mumbled, “Boy that paddle looks AWFUL!”

Maxine whispered, “It's the boys paddle from Littlehurst High School. It was designed to administer punishing swats to sturdy male backsides that were protected by one or more layers of clothing. Just imagine, Peeps, how it's going to feel on your soft, bare bottom. Only good news is that prison strap on your bare thighs is actually worse! Ready to 'chicken out', yet?”

“NO! We are here to the bitter end. AND my bottom isn't soft; yours is SOFT! What I don't understand is why these girls with the 100 series SHOT's are here. I mean, 100 series isn't added to your record, and you won't get sent to SHU.”

Maxine is a quiet voice answered, “Yeah, it's weird. It's only the Latinos that come with 100 series SHOT's. Usually, you just get extra work assignments, but... in the worst jobs! This time of year, that means a week or two of shoveling snow. I guess the Latin girls prefer a spanking to shoveling snow.”

As Maxine finished an overwhelming CCRRACKK was heard. This was the first of ten swats delivered and the female CO wound up and gave her all.

Sanchez took the first four swats silently, but on the fifth she shouted out, “Ahhhhhh Dios mío!” From then on, she howled and begged with each swat while her bottom wiggled about. Fortunately, the padded ramp kept her bottom in perfect spanking position, so no foul was called.”

Our female CO believed in the AAP system, so laid the strap on with vigor hoping to encourage the inmate to improve her behavior. Then on the tenth and last swat, the CO laid a very hard stroke on the inmate's slim bare thighs just below her wiggling bottom.

This time besides howling out in pure agony, the inmate let go of the handles which clanked loudly (as they were so designed) and grabbed her sore thighs.

Seeing this, the Lead CO shouted out, “Inmate, you NEVER let go of the handles until instructed to do so! I should make you start over from the beginning. Listen up, inmates! You must participate and show you appreciate your punishment. You do this by firmly holding the handles. If even for a second you loosen your grip, the weighted handles will fall out of your reach and come clanging down like they just did. This shows you are NOT accepting your punishment and when that happens, we stop and send you back in line to repeat the six or ten swat set. Again, NO set counts unless you remain in position for all of the swats and hold onto the handles firmly.”

A crying Sanchez begged, “Oh, por favor Mister CO, don't strap me more. It hurts bad! Por favor! Por favor!”

“Well, it's supposed to hurt!” replied the Lead CO. He then signed her form and said, “Get the hell out of here, Sanchez! SHOT erased!”

The next inmate's punishment was very similar. Like Sanchez, she chose the strap and again, the last stroke was placed across her bare thighs provoking a loud scream and steady wailing. This inmate, however, waited until ordered to stand before she released the handles. Once her form was signed, she was directed back to her dorm.

Both of the Latino inmates were fairly slim with small bottoms. Pepper could see by their antics and cries that the strap really, really hurt. She could only imagine how it would much worse it would have been if instead of the strap, that solid, boy's paddle was applied to their rather small bottoms.

Then it was time for the final grouping - the four inmates with 200 series SHOT's. In this group there was a black girl, a skinny blonde girl, Pepper and Maxine. Lead CO took charge with, “OK, line up! Who is first?”

The black inmate handed her from to the CO and approached the padded ramp. She quickly dropped both trousers and underpants and reached out for the handles. Clearly, this was not her first time under the paddle as it was obvious, she knew the routine quite well.

This time it was the male, Lead CO who grabbed the paddle and got into position. When Pepper saw this, she turned to Maxine and whispered, “Are the male CO's allowed to spank us? Surely that isn't allowed.”

“They most certainly are and it's not a bad thing. In my experience, the female Screws spank a lot harder,” answered Maxine.

“Are you serious? You're kidding; right?”

“Peeps, we are here to be punished. The female Screws seem to take this whole AAP thing far more seriously than their male counterparts. And frankly... I have no idea why that is.”

After the Lead CO handed the black inmate the handles and lifted all garments clear of her backside, he tapped the paddle against her bare, black cheeks and asked if she was ready. (This inmate's bottom cheeks were far more substantial than the two inmates just punished. She regularly ran laps on the track and was often seen playing basketball. Her hips were narrow, but her cheeks were well muscled and jutted out as a result of all the jumping and running.)

As the paddle tapped the dark cheeks patiently awaiting their punishment, the inmate answered, “Yes, Sir... and please, Sir, NO delays! Lay them on non-stop.”

She got exactly as she'd requested.

A loud CCRACKK was heard as the CO slammed the paddle into her waiting behind and she responded with a similarly loud: “OOWWW!” Five more swats quickly followed with only a second or so between. Each swat was answered with a progressively louder vocal response and on the sixth and last swat she answered with a very loud: “YEEEEEOOUCH!!”

Pepper was anxiously watching this paddling for two reasons. First off, while she had seen and experienced first-hand many school paddlings, this was the first time she witnessed an actual prison paddling. Next, shortly it would be her turn and she'd have to decide on whether to go ahead with the paddle or instead, opt for that prison strap. Her impression so far was that the paddling was significantly harder than anything she got in high school plus it was on a totally unprotected bottom.

“OK, Fellows, get back in line.”

Upon hearing this, the inmate released the handles (which clanged) and she rushed both hands to her inflamed and terribly sore hind cheeks. She threw her head back and gazed straight up while both hissing and breathing hard.

“No, dawdling! Get back in line!” shouted the CO.

Pepper's opinion of the male CO was that while he applied the paddle to the black inmate's backside soundly, he did NOT use every ounce of his strength as the two female Screws did.

Next the very slim, tall blonde girl handed in her form and got into position. You could tell by the yellowed bruises on her thighs that this was not her first time in AAP. Even more troubling to the nurse was the lack from her perspective of adequate fat on the inmate's backside. (This was not due to genetics. It was caused by her strong addiction to crystal meth.)

As a female CO approached paddle in hand, Nurse Radcliff said, “WAIT! Miller, have you considered the strap in place of that heavy prison paddle?”

“Yes, ma'am, I have!” answered the meth-head. “It's ten swats with the strap; six with the paddle. Six is better than ten! So it's the paddle for me!”

Nurse Radcliff just shook her head and waved her hands in the air. This was the signal for the punishment to begin and the female CO just slammed the paddle into the bare, white cheeks with as much force as she could muster. Clearly this first stroke hurt a lot as the meth-head screamed out a loud wail. Three more paddle swats followed, and our meth-head was screaming and crying.

Realizing the danger here, Nurse Radcliff interrupted before the fourth swat with, “STOP! Switch to the strap! Place the remaining three on her thighs.”

A now angry female CO replaced the paddle and grabbed the strap. She applied three vicious swats to the meth-head's thighs that left her screaming and bucking back and forth. Despite the sheer agony, our meth-head never let go of the handles and kept her backside in perfect punishment position. Eventually, she was ordered to stand and to return to the end of the line. Sobbing hard, she pulled up her pants and while still crying, shuffled to the back of the 200 series line.

Now it was Pepper's turn and based upon what she had seen of the strap, it was an easy decision to go with the paddle. Her bottom, she figured, was similar to the black inmate's. Well... her hips were wider and her cheeks bulged out NOT due to high muscle content, but realistically a rather high fat content. Nevertheless, both she and the black inmate had far, far more cushioning tissue than the meth-head. Pepper reasoned that the prison paddle applied to a well-padded bottom was far better than that prison strap applied to tender thighs.

Pepper stepped up to the ramp and reluctantly dropped both prison trousers and underpants. She leaned over while reaching for the handles; at the same time the female CO's worked together to quickly get her into punishment position. The other female CO grabbed the paddle and with it tapped Pepper's bare white cheeks. As required, she asked, “Ready for punishment, inmate?”

Pepper replied, “Yes, ma'am. Please not too hard. It's my first time.”

Naturally, this was EXACTLY the wrong thing to say. From the perspective of the CO, who would rather be home, the harder the paddling of a first-time visitor to AAP the better the chance of ensuring that inmate NEVER returned. Thus, the CO took the paddle all the way back and just slammed it into Pepper's bare bottom. A loud CCRRACCKK was heard as the paddle bit deep into the patiently waiting pale, bottom cheeks.

Pepper was overwhelmed with pain and shouted out: “OOOOOWWWWW!!”

All Maxine could think was: 'Lord, why can't Peeps just keep her mouth SHUT?' Next, she wondered about Peeps' story of a 'dozen or so' school paddlings. It certainly didn't look like she had all that experience.

Meanwhile the paddling progressed rather quickly with Pepper answering each swat with an increasingly louder scream. When the six swats were over, Pepper was ordered to stand and return. She immediately grabbed her sore hind cheeks and moaned, “OOOHHH, OOHHH, that really hurts!” After being yelled at to get moving, she slowly raised her pants and shuffled back behind the meth-head.

It was now Maxine's turn, and she wasted no time in approaching the ramp. She quickly dropped her pants and got into position.

Once again it was the turn of the male Lead CO and as he adjusted the ramp height, he whispered to Maxine, “Put on a good show. Don't make me look bad.”

Maxine had no idea what was going on. She'd seen the male CO on countless occasions, but had no relationship with him... of any kind. Maxine was troubled why he'd want her to “put on a good show”.

On the very first swat, Maxine deduced exactly what was going on. While the CO took a huge wind up and appeared to deliver a devastating swat, in reality he pulled his punch and delivered only a moderate swat. Experienced as she was in AAP, Maxine realized immediately he was not spanking full strength, but she made out as if he just murdering her. She screamed on each swat and convincingly begged him NOT to hit so hard.

Soon Maxine retuned to the line behind the still crying Pepper. In spite of the CO pulling his punches, Maxine still got a good spanking and sought to soothe her sore bottom globes by vigorously rubbing with her hands inside her pants.

This brought the black inmate back to the ramp and again the male CO had the paddle. Once in position, the CO ordered, “Up on your tip toes, Fellows. It's for you own good. Your under curve provides fresh real estate so I don't spank already paddled flesh.”

Fellows obeyed and remained on her tip toes for all six swats. Although as the CO stated he was not paddling previously punished flesh, the under curve is more sensitive causing the black inmate to scream out at each and every swat. When it was over, she was crying hard. Meanwhile the CO signed her form and exclaimed, “SHOT erased! Fellows, get back to your dorm and please behave.”

Upon the meth-head retuning to the ramp, the female CO picked up the strap and turned to the nurse, “I just assume you want us to steer clear of the paddle?”

“Correct,” answered Nurse Radcliff, “further I want you to alternate swats - bottom thighs, bottom thighs...”

“Understood!” and with that she launched a devastating swat across the meth-head's bottom. Already sore from the paddle, the meth-head just screamed out with each lash and was pumping her bottom back and forth, the cheeks opening and closing as she did so.

Pepper turned to Maxine and remarked, “Wow! Max, she is really getting a whipping?!”

“Yeah, I warned you about those female Screws.”

“OK, but why take this? She doesn't even have a release date, so what's a few days in SHU? Max, SHU can't be that bad.”

Maxine rather cryptically answered, “Well it is to her!”

“I don't understand, Max. What are you saying?”

“Peeps, it's really simple - in SHU there is no crystal meth!”

“Ohhhh! Ohh!” replied Pepper.

Meanwhile, the whipping continued with the inmate just screaming and crying. After the sixth lash, Nurse Radcliff held up her hand and said, “That's it! We're done here!”

“The HELL we are!” countered the female CO, “She still has four swats to go!”

Nurse Radcliff said nothing, but folded her arms and glared at the CO. (Nurse Radcliff was referred to by the inmates as Nurse Rat-Shit, a truly unfortunate label. While it's true she was strict, she was also very fair. More often than not, on close calls she would side with the inmate. Of all the prison staff, she was one of the very few who truly cared for the well-being of the inmates.)

“OK, Fine! We're done, but she doesn't get her SHOT erased!” shouted the angry CO.

This left the decision to the male Lead CO who was in the crosshairs of both the nurse and the angry female CO. He took one look at the blonde meth-head, who was just wailing while her bottom and thighs were twitching uncontrollably. He looked down, signed the form and exclaimed, “SHOT ERASED! Miller, get the hell out of here and NEVER, EVER come back to AAP!”

Pepper was then back in the saddle, and she howled with each of her remaining six swats. Again, as a self-identified 'first-timer', the female CO really laid into her with each and every paddle swat.

Maxine's was the final punishment dispensed that night and again both the male CO and Maxine put on a good show. “Good Show” that is until the very last swat. Feeling a little guilty about letting Max off so easy, he really slammed the paddle into her backside on the final swat. This time Maxine was not acting; instead, she howled her head off.

With the final punishment over the staff closed up and locked the AAP room. As they headed out, one of the female CO's turned to the male CO and asked, “Joe, what have you got against Maxine? You really spanked the snot out of her?”

Joe, of course denied treating her any differently than he had the black inmate. The actual truth here was that he was far, far EASIER on Maxine. Reason for this was he sincerely appreciated her finding that missing paddle. She saved him one ton of paperwork filling out reports explaining why he canceled AAP. These reports would be submitted to the warden, who Joe referred to as “The Bitch in Chief” or sometimes “The Chief Bitch”. In short, she saved him from a confrontation he'd rather not have.

~00O00~​

“WOW! That was my first and I hope LAST prison paddling. That really HURT! It was far worse than any school paddling. I was so busy crying and tending to my sore bottom that I missed your paddling. How did you fare, Maxie?”

“Damn, Peeps, that really, really HURT! My hind cheeks are just throbbing with pain. Since I went with you to AAP, as you BEGGED me, NOW you are going to give me some serious relief.”

“WHAT!! Are you crazy? If we get caught again, we'll be back in AAP for some more swats! NO FUCKING WAY!”

“Yes, FUCKING WAY! Peeps, when an inmate attends AAP the other inmates know she got paddled, so they have figured out a way to compensate for her discomfort. Peeps, they'll provide us lookouts in a “safe zone” so we can be assured we won't be caught or interrupted. It's just another of those 'time honored prison traditions'. Now let's get moving or I'll start spanking you...”

And with that they headed to an inmate designated “safe zone”.

​

 

[Tiredny]

Orange Turns Black and Blue continued...


EPILOGUE

Another AAP session successfully concludes - successfully because all six inmates had their SHOT's erased. Being a data driven organization, BOP also sees this particular AAP as a success - indeed a RESOUNDING success. Their analysis is based upon the fact that not one of the six inmates returned to AAP in the following six months. So did behaviors actually change? To answer that we must look a lot further - at each of the six inmates individually.

To begin, the black inmate got caught smoking and you are probably thinking that terrific paddling she got, reformed her and... it did! From that point on, she joined with other smokers, and they found safe places to smoke and assigned rotating lookouts. These lookout's warned smokers that CO's were approaching and they caused confusion with the CO's by raising trivial issues, so the smokers had time to get rid of any evidence and scatter. So while she may not have gotten any SHOT's for smoking, the black inmate was now smoking far more than before.

After her punishment, our blonde meth-head started behaving much better. That is, she acted far more respectfully towards the CO's, prison staff, and the other inmates. This “improvement” was attributed to the AAP program, but the truth was that drugs were now flowing more freely in the prison, and she was no longer suffering from the agony of withdrawal. When drugs got scarce again about a year later, she became just as belligerent and disrespectful to other inmates as she was to the CO's. That explains her numerous, black eyes, bloody noses and fat lips.

As for Pepper and Maxine, they actually ramped up their sexual activity until Pepper was released five months later. They did not get caught, however, as their paddlings impressed upon them the need to be DISCREET. After Pepper was released, Maxine, without a partner, was celibate until her release seven months later.

That leaves the two Latino girls. They really, really did not like their spankings and stopped doing that silly, stupid stuff that got them those 100 series SHOT's.

So was AAP really a success?

So impressed was BOP, that they introduced AAP into all medium and maximum security prisons within the year. Two years after that, some bright bureaucrat decided it would be a good idea for the CO's dispensing paddlings to know the specific infractions committed by those they were punishing. Idea here being to reinforce necessary improvement of very specific behaviors in order to avoid future visits to AAP.

Simply remarkable, isn't it?!

Finally, what about the people entrusted with dispensing the paddlings, the CO's? Well, they were pretty much split along gender lines. Male CO's felt SHU and AAP were equally effective in improving behavior. Thus, they treated AAP as just another of their rather tedious prison duties. Female CO's, on the other hand, felt that AAP was far, far superior to SHU in curbing bad behavior. They believed the inmates really hated and feared those spankings. (It has been suggested that these female CO's were simply remembering their own experience with paddlings in High School.) Thus, the female CO's continued to apply the paddle and strap to inmate behinds with as much force as they could generate.

 

[jhon scot]

Hi, I'm a new member of the forum. I joined a week ago. You are welcome to read the story I sent to the section BDSM Forum/ Mainly Poems and Stories/ Judicial Corporal Punishment Of Women: Stories And Novels.
I bring here the first part. All the rest you can read in the attached pdf file.
Enjoy

 

[elephas]

Hi, I'm a new member of the forum. I joined a week ago. You are welcome to read the story I sent to the section BDSM Forum/ Mainly Poems and Stories/ Judicial Corporal Punishment Of Women: Stories And Novels.
I bring here the first part. All the rest you can read in the attached pdf file.
Enjoy

Jhon, welcome to this thread! A good start, although sometimes harsh. We look forward to continuing.

 

[jhon scot]

Thank you, Senator.
Here is one more chapter from my book about The Pain Research Institute.

The story of James Miller

By

Julia Scott and Jerry Fitzgerald

©

Introduction​

The story I bring here is one more chapter from a book I am writing. (For more details see my previous story: Crime and Punishment) In order for the story to be understandable, I bring here briefly the background to the story.

James Miller is a businessman who was known as a pioneer in the field of computers and was one of the first to apply advanced 3D printing techniques..
Julia Scott is a journalist who comes to Mexico to do extensive journalistic research on the people of Sonora. She buys a summer house in Sonora that belonged to James Miller. In addition to the summer house, there was a large building that was an unknown secret wing of the "The Pain Research Institute" founded by Miller.

Julia enters the empty institute one day and discovers shocking videos where Miller and his friend John are seen torturing women. Later she also finds Miller's personal diary with explanations for the films she discovered.
Together with her friend Jerry, they investigate what happened at this secret wing of the institute over many years.
It turns out to them that Miller was able to replicate in the laboratory in a very accelerated process, about sixty times the normal rate of growth, DNA, taken from women, and to create copies of those women (a process that is already known and possible today, for example the reconstruction of Dolly the sheep), so that within six months he manages to create a mature woman of about thirty years old. In addition to the physical construction process, a parallel process of personality implantation is carried out. Miller discovered a method to remotely scan the brains of living women and the possibility of planting the scan inside the replicas of the women he created. In this way he received a living and breathing woman who is no different from the original and is a perfect copy of a real woman, but at the same time it is a woman who is not registered anywhere and does not actually exist in terms of the law.

Medical Treatment – First Part​

Citation from the personal diary of James Miller
Among other things, I realized that it is useful to create a kind of script for each patient, so that when she finds herself in the treatment chair, this will be perceived in her eyes as a continuation of previous events that she experienced (or rather experienced by the original woman whose brain scan we planted in her duplicate). John was very creative about it. Janet Brown's employment contract that she signed when she accepted the position, like the employment contracts of all the other employees employed in the various companies I owned, included a clause that allows the company to initiate six-monthly medical examinations of various types. The tests detailed in the contract included many things: bone density tests, blood tests, hearing tests, tests to detect breast cancer, gynecological tests and more. They were conducted in a special medical institute established for this purpose. We invested a lot of money in the institute and hired the best experts. All the employees willingly signed this section of the contract. For them it was a serious bonus. John summoned Janet for a series of medical examinations at the institute. Before her arrival at the medical institute, she was signed as usual on a form in which it was stated that she comes for the tests of her own free will and no pressure was put on her to go to them. She of course signed the form, was summoned to the institute and, like many other employees, passed all the tests prescribed for her. The last examination was a gynecological examination. It was made clear to her in advance that the examination would be done by a male gynecologist and would include a review of her breasts and genitals as is customary.
John arranged for her to wait in the waiting room for about fifteen minutes for this test. It was explained to her that the examination of a previous patient had been extended and that she would have to wait a while. While waiting, the brain scanning device placed in the ceiling above her head scanned her brain until the moment when the nurse invited her into the gynecologist's room. There she underwent a routine examination and was released to her home.
We seated her replica (genetic copy) in a waiting room which was identical in every respect to the waiting room where Janet stayed. When she woke up from her drugged sleep, she found herself sitting on the couch, waiting for a nurse to call her in. As far as she was concerned, it seemed to her that she just dozed a little on the armchair. As soon as she woke up, she looked around worriedly for fear that her name had already been announced without her noticing, but at that moment I invited her through the intercom to enter the room. She calmed down, rubbed her eyes, got to her feet and entered the room.
John explained to me that she (ie Janet Brown) had already undergone a series of similar tests at the institute several times and that for her this would be another routine test.
I greeted her with a smile and invited her to sit on the gynecological chair. I was very excited, but I tried to control myself. Of course, she thought I was the doctor and obeyed my instructions. I asked her to put her hands on the armrests of the chair. I asked her if she had no objection to a male doctor examining her and she said no.
"I'm about to run some new testing procedures we've recently introduced to the institute." I announced, "I hope you don't mind."
"What exactly is this about?" she asked.
"Look, today we summoned a group of about twenty women from the company's employees to test a new breast examination procedure that, if it proves itself, will come into regular use as part of the series of routine examinations. I will use a special tool that we designed here at the institute. I will show it to you right away, but first I must take a slightly unusual step, to make sure that you cooperate and do not stop the examination before it is finished."
She looked at me surprised.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, it's very simple." I said, "Pay attention!"
And while talking, I pressed the special button installed in the chair, which caused four flexible leather straps intertwined with metal fibers, which were hidden in the mechanism of the chair, to wrap around her wrists and legs in such a way that she could not get up from the chair.
"What are you doing? Why are you tying me up?"
"I'm sorry," I replied, "but this is to prevent you from stopping the examination in the middle and getting up from the chair."
"No, no! I don't agree! Please let me go!"
"Very sorry. Once you agreed to come in here, everything written in your employment contract came into effect and you will not be able to refuse the test."
"What are you talking about? Let me go right now, do you hear?"
"Don't get stressed." I answered her calmly, "Behold, I will show you what you signed, so that you don't come to me or the company with complaints."
I pulled her employment contract out of a filr and showed it to her.
It was actually Jeanette Brown's original employment contract with the exception of one page that had been replaced and included some unusual clauses... John made sure that her signature was affixed to it as well.
I opened the contract on the page where the section discussing medical examinations at the institute is found.
"Is that your signature at the bottom of the sheet?"
She looked at the signature carefully and confirmed that it was indeed hers.
"Did you read the contract before you signed it?"
"I suppose so, but I don't remember."
"No problem. We also have a detailed video recording of the signing of the contract. You can clearly see in it how you go through the pages of the contract one by one, skim over the writing and sign this particular page as well. Before you signed, you were asked again if you have read the writing and if you sign it of your own good will, and you said yes and signed. This is also documented."
"Okay fine, but where does it say you're allowed to tie me up?"
"Well, pay attention to what is written here."
I held the page in front of her so that she could follow the writing and read the sections.
Section 37 C - Half-yearly medical examinations.
1. The company offers the employee to undergo a series of medical examinations every six months to be held at the medical institute established by the company for this purpose.
2. The employee hereby declares that she has read the clauses of the agreement and that she confirms them by signing at the bottom of the page.
3. The institute undertakes to perform various medical tests as detailed in the following sections and to provide their results to the employee or her proxy.
"And now pay attention to what is said in the next section, black and white." I said, and continued reading as I point to the things with my finger.
4. I hereby declare that I am not opposed to the performing of the tests and/or treatments that the doctor decides on, even though it was made clear to me that in some cases they may involve discomfort and pain.
5. I hereby give my consent that during the examination that will be performed on me and/or the treatment that will be given to me, the doctor may take any measure he sees fit, to make sure that the examination and/or treatment that will be given to me will not be stopped in the middle.
"Here, you see, this section covers what I said before. Binding the hands and feet is one of the means that the doctor is allowed to use during the treatment."
"But, I don't agree. I'm not ready for you to tie me up without explaining to me what kind of treatment it is! Let me go!"
"There is also a clear reference to this matter in the contract, pay attention to what is written in the next section."
6. At any given moment, the patient can ask the doctor to stop the therapeutic process if it is not acceptable to her for any reason.
"You see! You cannot bind me against my will. It is written here specifically that I can ask to stop the treatment at any moment I want! Release me immediately!"
"You are right, but pay attention to what is said in the next section."
7. The decision whether to accede to the patient's request and stop the examination and/or the treatment in the middle, is solely at the doctor's discretion. The doctor can continue the examination and/or the treatment, if he thinks this is necessary, even if the patient objects to it.
"As you can see, section 6 of the contract specifically refers to the possibility of the patient's request to stop the treatment, but according to section 7, the right to decide on the matter is left to the doctor's sole discretion. At this point, I see no reason to stop the treatment or release you from the chair. After the treatment is over, you can ask once again not to continue with further tests or treatments, but again, I will, in consultation with my superiors, decide whether to comply with the request or continue with the next procedure and you will not be able to object to that!"
"It's not possible! It's a dragon contract! I didn't know that's what was written in the contract. If I had known, I wouldn't have signed it!"
"Could be, but since you signed, I'm covered in every respect and at this point, as I've already said, I'm not going to release you. Now let me explain to you what kind of test it is."
I put the contract aside and turned to my patient.
"Since your hands are tied, let me unbutton your shirt to begin the examination."
"No, no. Stop! I want to understand first what kind of test it is!"

"Right away you'll understand. I'll explain to you what I'm going to do step by step, but first I have to open your shirt."
I undid the buttons of her shirt one by one and moved the wings of the shirt to the sides. Her abound fat breasts were hidden in a very large white bra. I put my hand behind her back, opened the two hooks and removed her bra as well. Her fat breasts were exposed to the eye—a pair of pristine white breasts emblazoned with large fleshy nipples. The sight of her bare breasts moved me very much. I wanted to squeeze and crush them in my hand and feel their firmness, but I refrained. I tried to maintain the image of a doctor conducting an examination that is supposed to be unusual, but still falls within the standard medical field despite the strange conditions in which it is conducted. I wanted to prolong the game as much as possible before I actually start hurting her.

 

[jhon scot]

Medical Treatment – Second Part​

Citation from the personal diary of James Miller

"Well," I told her, "We will begin with a test designed to determine the degree of elasticity of your breasts. The elasticity and flexibility of the breasts vary from woman to woman, but if they go beyond a certain range—excessive firmness, or on the contrary, excessive flexibility—this may indicate a pathological change. To test this, I will use the device we developed here at the institute."

While talking, I opened the nearby desk drawer and took out a metal device made of shiny stainless steel.

The device was designed as a thin metal tube at the end of which was a kind of grooved ball in the shape of a small onion with a diameter of five millimeters that ended in a pointed end. The device did not look particularly threatening, it was more like a spatula ending in a metal ball instead of a spoon.

I showed her the tool.

"Pay attention to what happens when one presses the buttons on the base of the device." I said.

I pressed the first button. The grooved metal ball at the top of the device opened like a flower's petals. When I pressed the second button, a tiny blue balloon made of hard rubber popped out of the opening. Pressing the third button caused air to be compressed into the balloon, which caused it to expand more and more until it was five centimeters in diameter.

I pressed the last button. The air was released and the rubber balloon shrunk and was swallowed into the device, the leaves closed and the device regained its innocent shape.

"In a moment," I said to Janet, I will insert the elasticity tester into the nipple of your left breast. The process will naturally be somewhat painful, because the opening of the nipple, even during breastfeeding, is extremely narrow. As soon as the metal ball penetrates to a depth of four cm, I will activate the button that releases the balloon and then I will begin to inflate it. The scale built into the base of the device will indicate the degree of flexibility of the fat tissue and mammary glands inside your breast. Inflating the balloon may cause severe pain, but I prefer not to use local anesthesia. Feel free to shout if the pain becomes unbearable."

Janet paled at the words. "No, no! Don't do this to me. I don't agree!"

"It's less painful than you imagine." I said to her, "I suppose that when the breast examination is over, we can let you go home. I don't think that following the examination we will have to continue to take additional therapeutic measures. This only happens in extreme cases. Be brave! We had one case in the past where there was really a fear of a pathological abnormality and we had to give the patient a treatment following the examination. I remember the case. She was very brave and kept silent during the examination despite the pain, but when it came to the actual treatment she could not hold back anymore and scream up to the sky. Not that it helped her, we had to complete the process to the end. I really, really don't think that will happen in your case but it's important for me to clarify things in advance.

She looked at me with fearful eyes. An expression of horror appeared on her face.

"No, please, don't do this to me. I can't!"

"You have no choice. You will have to pass the test. I remind you that you signed the document."

I gently held the nipple of her left breast and began to press the pointed end of the device into the center of the nipple.

"Ay! It hurts! Stop!"

I gripped the large fleshy nipple tightly and continued to squeeze. The nipple yielded to the pressure and the ball penetrated deeper and deeper into the stretched nipple and then slid into the fat tissue and mammary glands below.

Janet screamed hysterically. Her face contorted in pain and tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

"That was the easy part." I told her, "The sequel will be much more painful. Don't hesitate to scream, if it makes it easier for you."

I pressed the second button. The metal ball opened deep within her breast tissue. The balloon was now ready to be inflated. I slowly pressed the button.

And she did scream. Screamed with all her might. "Ai! Ai! It hurts! Stop! Stop! Take it out! I can't! It hurts! Ai!"

I kept pressing. The balloon swelled up inside the tissue and this was also evident to an outside observer. Janet's screams reached new heights.

"You have a very flexible breast!" I stated, "I will expand the diameter of the balloon by two more centimeters and see what the reaction will be." A new wave of screams, whimpers and pleas erupted from her mouth as soon as I did it.

I looked at her with delight and felt erotic pleasure throbbing all over my body. I was tempted to keep expanding the balloon, but I didn't. Later, when Janet understands what awaits her in the treatment itself, my enjoyment would become more and more stronger.

I pressed the buttons and pulled the device from the tortured breast. Janet's cries of pain subsided slowly. She looked at me anxiously. She must have wondered what will happen now.

I made myself check the scale of the device.

"Well," I finally said, "it seems that you are in the normal range, but the result is inconclusive. I'm afraid I'll have to do a similar test on your right breast as well. I pulled out another test device from the drawer.

"What??? No, no! I can't. You hurt me so much! You won't do it again! Let me go! I can't take it anymore."

I put the device back on the table and turned to her: "I understand that you ask not to continue the test?"

"Yes. Let me go. I don't agree that you will do this to me again."

Then I had a wonderful idea.

"Well," I told her, "I understand that the test was very painful for you and I would not want to start another test if you do not give your consent to it. On the other hand, as I said, the results of the test on the left breast are inconclusive and I am afraid that another test is necessary, with all the unpleasantness involved. I will hold a consultation with the primary doctor and leave the decision to him. We are videotaping the entire test process, so that he can get an impression of the first tool himself and decide if there is any justification for performing the same test on the other breast. I'm almost certain that in light of your objection, he'll agree that we'll settle for the test we've already performed and I can release you home. Just let me bandage the nipple before I do so to prevent infection."

I placed a bandage on her swollen nipple and secured it with two plasters.

"The consultation may take some time. He will surely want to see what I have done so far and what your reactions have been. Try to rest and move your chest as little as possible so as not to worsen the pain."

A glimmer of relief came into her eyes. I put the device back in the drawer, went out into the hallway and looked at her through the camera lens. she sighed. She tried for a moment to change the angle of her seat a little and a slight scream came out of her mouth. It seemed that every movement, even the slightest, caused her intense pain. A quarter of an hour later—a quarter of an hour that must have seemed like an eternity to her—I returned to the room. She looked at me questioningly, trying to decipher my expression.

"Look Jeanette," I said to her, "Dr. Wolf, the head doctor, saw the film and went over the results with me. I told him that there was no point in performing the test on the other breast as well. In any case, the chance that we will find something in the second examination that would justify a therapeutic intervention is extremely slim. At first, he tended to agree with me, but you understand—the responsibility for the tests is his first and foremost. For him, it is better to do another test that may turn out to be unnecessary than to take the risk and settle for one test. We argued for almost ten minutes. I explained to him how painful the test you had already undergone was. He hesitated a bit and finally suggested that we hear another opinion. We summoned the department manager himself. He was also undecided, but finally accepted the decision with a heavy heart. I'm very sorry Jeanette, but we had to do a repeat test on your right breast as well."

She turned pale.

"No! No! No!" she shouted hysterically, "Please, change your decision. I beg! Please, please. Didn't they see what happened to me during the first examination?"

"They definitely saw. I tried to convince them as best I could. I begged, threatened, explained, but I'm very sorry. They insist that I do the second test. I suggested that we do it under local or full anesthesia, but they also rejected this request. Since this is an innovative process, it's important to perform it without anesthesia in order to examine the patient's reactions in depth. I'm very sorry, but I have no choice. The decision is not mine."

It was an unforgettable moment. Only later did I understand the significance of this moment and everything that came from it, and it served as a signpost for me later on with other patients. When I did the first test, she had no idea what exactly would happen and how painful it would be, but now after going through the ordeal in one breast, she knew exactly what was going to happen, and the anticipation of the pains to come intensified her reaction many times over. This is the advantage of breasts over other organs. The experience of pain in the other breast can be reproduced after a patient has experienced it in one breast.

I took out the second device from the drawer and held it in my hand for a long moment. She screamed hysterically, writhing in the chair in a desperate effort to free herself. It was an intoxicating spectacle. I waited another long moment to exhaust the pleasure to the end and then I approached her, grabbed the nipple of her right breast and brought the device closer to her. There is no point in continuing to detail how I performed once again the entire procedure—Inserting the device, opening the leaves, releasing the balloon and inflating it. I made sure that each step would take longer than the last time. I did the inflation step in small jumps, but I inflated it almost two centimeters more than in the test I did on the left breast. The results did justify my expectations. The pains she experienced were much stronger. The screams were louder and the desperate pleas for mercy have reached new heights.

Those were unforgettable moments. I haven't felt such sublime in a long time. Only those who have seen from their own flesh the pleasure that can be derived from causing real pain to the female body instead of being satisfied with fantasies or looking at fabricated pictures and movies, will be able to understand what I felt.

When it was all over, I pulled the diabolical device from her swollen nipple and tightened the bandage on her right breast. It took her almost ten minutes to calm down and stop screaming.

I watched her with pleasure.

Then I picked up the device and checked the scale.

"Well, Janet," I told her, "This time, the results are much clearer. Even though you are within the limits of the norm in your right breast, you are very close to the end. I am very afraid that I will not be able to release you home. We may also have to give you the treatment itself with all the pain and unpleasantness involved. I will try for your sake to prevent it from you. I will only do it if I receive instructions to do so from the head of the department, but it is important to me that you understand what is involved this time."

 

[jhon scot]

Medical Treatment – Third Part

Citation from the personal diary of James Miller​

What would you do if you had in your possession a genetic copy of a woman made without the knowledge of the original woman. A living and breathing woman who is completely identical to the original, but is not registered anywhere and is not recognized by the law, a woman who is at your mercy and you can do whatever you want to her and realize the wildest fantasies that come to your mind?

In several chapters of my book that were sent to the forum, I brought up some interesting possibilities, such as giving severe corporal punishment for crimes committed by the original women, giving painful medical treatments under the guise of standard medical treatment, experiments testing women's resistance to pain in a secret wing of The Institute for the Study of Pain to which women are brought who were kidnapped from their homes (or more correctly following a staged kidnapping of their genetic copies and bringing them to the institute) and so on.

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I took the second device from the drawer, which was similar in shape to the first, except for the fact that the pointed ball at the end was larger, almost one and a half centimeters in diameter, and the handle was much longer—about twenty-five centimeters.

"If the treatment is approved, I will use this device." I told her, "As you can see, it is quite similar to the previous one, except for the fact that the ball on its head is much larger. The insertion process will be much more painful because I will have to insert it into your breast to a depth of fifteen centimeters and not be satisfied with a shallow insertion as I did during the tests. After inserting the device to the appropriate depth, I will begin to inflate the balloon in the center of your breast. But the main difference is in the balloon. This balloon can be inflated up to a diameter of fifteen centimeters. I'll show you what the balloon looks like at full size."

I opened the drawer and took out an inflated balloon. Unlike the previous balloon which was smooth, this balloon was covered with dozens of needles eight millimeters long each.

Janet looked at it in horror.

"Yes, Janet. We call it here at the Institute by the affectionate name 'Hedgehog'. When I inflate it inside your breast, the needles will penetrate deep into your breast flesh. Then I will inflate the balloon not with air, but with a special liquid whose function is to harden the breast tissues and strengthen them. The surface of the balloon in the places where the needles are located is extremely thin and once the balloon reaches its full size, the accumulated pressure will cause these points to burst and the liquid will forcefully spray through the needles and spread all over your breast. We have performed this procedure on three women before you. The pain they experienced was in all cases unbearable for them. I assume that if I am forced to give you the treatment, your reaction will not be different. You will feel as if your breast is exploding to pieces. A moment later the liquid will begin its action and you will feel as if your breast has been burned by boiling oil. The pain will intensify and you will scream like you have never screamed in your life. I really hope that when I come back here soon, I will have enunciation for you and it will be decided not to give you this painful treatment. You are a borderline case and there is a good chance that in a little while you will be released from here. I also hope that I am not scaring you too much. I am simply preparing you for the worst case. I must warn you that if we have to give you the treatment, it will be something completely different from what you felt during the examination! At the moment you still have no idea what this means, but if and when we finish the process on the left breast and move to the right breast and the procedure is repeated, you will understand, perhaps for the first time in your life, the meaning of the phrase 'excruciating pain'. I will go out now for another consultation. I'm quite convinced that it will be decided not to go in a therapeutic direction and to settle for the two tests, but I can't promise you anything."

Hysterical cries erupted from Janet's mouth at my words.

"No! You can't do this to me! You've already hurt me enough! I can't! Let me go! Don't do this to me!"

"We'll see." I told her.

I left the room. This time I gave her almost half an hour to think about what might be in store for her.

When I returned to the room, Janet was in a complete panic. One look at my face was enough for her to understand that her fate was sealed.

"Yes, Janet, you understood correctly. I am very sorry, but the decision was made. After examining the results of the tests in depth, it was decided to continue the procedure and give you the treatment itself as well. Be strong. It will not be easy, but you have no choice. Your request not to carry out the treatment itself was examined in depth and answered in the negative. I am about to start the treatment now.

She was shaking all over. As soon as she saw me take the device out of the drawer and bring it closer to her left breast, she burst into hysterical screams again.

"I will execute three times the inserting of the device and the injecting of the fluids" I continued and explained to her, "in your left breast, and each time I will insert the device deeper into the breast cavity, which will probably increase your pain unfortunately. After that I will repeat the test with the first device that you already know. If the desired result is still not achieved, I will repeat the insertion of the second device and the injection of the fluids three more times, then I will return and check if we have achieved the desired results. I will also perform this operation later on your right breast. I guess the whole process will take several hours and you may have to stay here until the small hours of the night."

Janet's reaction was as I expected. Her face turned pale with terror and she began to scream. I was so happy to hear her screams. I smiled at her, removed the blood-soaked bandage from over the nipple, held it tightly and began to insert the device into her breast. I did this very slowly to intensify the pain and prolong it as much as possible, and I came to my pay full of incessant screams and howls of pain. I pushed the device harder and harder until a significant part of it was swallowed inside her fat breast. She didn't stop screaming for a moment. Then I got to the fun part of blowing up the balloon and injecting the fluids. The demonic balloon caused her breast to swell more and more. The skin of her breast was stretched to the limit. The swollen left breast almost doubled its size compared to the right breast. Her whole body writhed in pain. Her hands and feet twisted in the straps in a desperate attempt to break free, but in vain. The balloon kept getting inflated and she screamed non-stop. Then the weak spots under the needles were breached and the liquid was forcefully sprayed through the needles and spread all over her breast. It was a stunning moment. It is simply difficult to describe the intensity of the spectacle and the pleasure I derived from it. It seems that all the pains she experienced until now were nothing compared to what she felt when the terrible liquid was forcefully splashed into her breast tissue. She experienced an indescribable pain. The terrible agony was reflected in her face distorted by pain and in her frightened eyes. It was a heartwarming spectacle.

"I'm burning! I'm burning! I can't! Take it out! I can't take it anymore!"

I pulled the device out of her breast, loaded it with liquids and inserted it once again deep into her breast. In the third insertion, the handle was almost entirely swallowed inside her breast. I reached the layer of muscles at the bottom of her breast and the result, as expected, was for her unbearable pain that brought out from her mouth screams, sobs, wails and cries. After completing the first cycle of injections, I inserted the first device into the field to check, so to speak, if we had achieved the desired result. I shook my head as a sign of sorrow and informed her that we would have to perform another series of three injections and at the end, another test with the first device. When I reached her right breast, which was full of pain receptors much more than the left breast, her pain and suffering reached even higher levels. On the right breast I repeated the series of tests three times and I utilized to the fullest my pleasure from her agony. I would have continued with another triple series, but it was getting late and I was a bit tired, what's more, I wanted to reach the next level in the lower part of her body.

* * * * * * *​

I have brought here only a fragment of the detailed description of Janet's agony as presented in James Miller's diary. Later he described in vivid colors what his patient felt when he treated her vagina. The descriptions were unbearably difficult and I prefer to spare them from my readers. I will only limit myself by stating that after all the series of so-called 'treatments' and 'tests' were finished, Miller did not release his patient. He injected both of her breasts with an anesthetic that dulled the intensity of her pain. He did this not to make it easier for her, but to get the most out of the next step where he proceeded to treat her vagina using a similar procedure of an inflatable balloon whose face was covered with needles. The descriptions he brings in his diary of this part of the treatment are particularly shocking. The most horrific descriptions of the horrific torture women experienced during the Inquisition pale in comparison to what was described in the diary.

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[jhon scot]

Whipping (The Mexican) - First Part
In my first massage to the group I mentioned the Mexican who appeared in an earlier section of the book. It tells what happened when she (the author) was accidentally trapped in the tying chair and a Mexican passing by took advantage of her situation.

Here I bring the missing story in 4 parts. Enjoy!

I will not forget what happened to me on the fourteenth of October until the end of my life.

Eight months have passed since then and only now have I gathered the courage to put the things in writing, and even now when I picture in my mind's eye what happened to me, a shiver runs through my flesh and writing is difficult for me. Nevertheless, I do. The difficult experience I experienced helped me to understand and internalize a trace of the horrific agony and terrible pain felt by those unfortunate women who were tortured by Miller, in a way that I could not even imagine before. The difficult event I experienced opened the door for me to empathize with their anxieties and hardships, in a way that no written document or even a horror video could do.

When I woke up that damn morning and opened the window, there was a pleasant breeze. I drank my morning coffee and sat down at the computer. I was expecting the arrival of Jerry who was supposed to present to me what he had brought up in his investigations in Washington. It was still early morning. Jerry was supposed to arrive around ten. I was a little restless. I went for a short walk to clear my mind. The investigations conducted by Jerry and myself revealed more and more details about the unfortunate women brought to Miller's institute. They occupied my thoughts and every time I looked at the gloomy building that stood inside the compound, I felt a shiver in my flesh when I remembered the terrible things that happened within its walls.

And yet I was determined to continue the investigation and uncover the truth about Miller's actions, and understand his criminal motives.

When I sat down from my walk, my eyes fell on the bunch of keys that was lying on my desk, the keys to the torture house. So far we have only examined a small part of the building. It occurred to me to take a short tour before Jerry's arrival and check out one of the rooms that opened into the third office. I took the keys and went to the house. Like the other offices, this office also had three doors that opened into sealed rooms without windows. I chose the left room. The third key I checked fit the lock. I pushed open the heavy door and went inside. As expected, this room was also soundproof and its walls were covered by thick felt. In the center of the room stands the heavy metal chair. Unwillingly, I shuddered at the thought of all those women who were unlucky enough to sit on it and the terrible tortures they experienced. In addition to the chair, there was a locked glass cabinet in the room, on the shelves of which were displayed three horror knives, and other tools whose purpose I did not know at that time, but their very design indicated that they were also used as tools of torture. In the lower drawers there were other instruments of torture: pliers, drills and jagged needles, as well as thin bamboo canes, whips and other lashes and horsewhips, some of which had electric cables attached.

I looked at the chair. On a small dresser on wheels that stood at his side was a remote control with many buttons. near one of them, under which was written 'straddling', there was a scale of 210 degrees and the arrow on it could be directed to any desired angle. Around another button on which was written back inclination angle was a scale of 45 degrees. On a third button was written delay time and on its scale there were markings from zero to 300 seconds and so on.

I pressed the manipulation button. A faint light indicated that the remote control was still working. I randomly turned the various buttons but did not notice any response. I thought that the batteries were empty. I put the remote control back in its place and then out of a momentary impulse I sat down in the chair. The seat was pleasant to touch and very comfortable. I tried to imagine how felt that unknown woman who sat in this seat before me, with her hands tied behind her back and her legs tied with straps. I reached behind my back across the low back. What a terrible feeling of helplessness the wretch felt, I thought to myself, when Miller approached her, a smile on his lips and a terrible instrument of torture in his hands. The image stood clearly before my eyes.

Then something unexpected happened. Without any prior warning, flexible straps emerged from behind my back and simultaneously captured my arms, and at the same time, two half-tube-like guides that were hidden under the chair moved and similar straps that emerged from them captured my legs at the ankles and hips, attaching them firmly to the half-tubes.

I found myself trapped without being able to break free. The straps were leather straps interwoven with metal fibers. I knew that I would not be able to tear them or expand them in such a way that I could free myself. It was eight o'clock. There are two more hours until Jerry comes and releases me. My luck is that I left the room door wide open. Jerry would surely look for me and hear my screams, I thought to myself.

Then suddenly there was a buzzing sound and the chair came back to life. I felt how the carriers that captured my legs began to move to the sides. Panic gripped me. The movement was slow, but steady. My legs moved further apart causing them to open at an increasing angle. I suddenly realized what happened: when I played with the remote I first touched the delay button and set it to sixty seconds and then I played with the rest of the buttons. Horror gripped me as I remembered in a flash of memory that I had adjusted the angle to 120 degrees! The carriers kept moving, and I couldn't do anything. The straddling angle increases slowly. I started to feel pain in my stretched hips. I tried to brace my leg muscles and stop the movement but in vain. The movement went on and on. A cry of pain came from my mouth. The angle was already close to one hundred and five degrees and the movement did not stop. Another fifteen degrees I told myself in despair. I felt intense pain in my pubes and thighs. The damned mechanism slowed its movement, but did not stop. How can I last? I remembered the heartbreaking screams that a heavy-limbed woman made in one of the films while Miller slowly opened her legs to a 195 degrees angle. Unlike me, her lower body was naked. I clearly remembered how the muscles of her thighs twitched in an uncontrollable tremor, how her pubis was opened and how her skin began to crack from the intensity of the tension and to bleed. The process took almost ten minutes when the angle reached 160 heavy beads of sweat dripped from her thighs. She started screaming hysterically when she realized what awaited her. Miller read the angle aloud. When the angle reached one hundred and seventy degrees her pain was unbearable. She screamed in an inhuman voice and her face contorted with pain testified to the agony she was going through, and still the carriers continued to move and do their cruel work. I remembered the sickening sound that was heard when her tendons were torn and her hip joints, which could not withstand the pressure, came out of their sockets. All this flashed through me in a split second.

Finally the carriers reached an angle of one hundred and twenty degrees and stopped. I felt intense pain in my lower body. I slowly regained my composure. The pain was strong but bearable. Lucky, I didn't tilt the dial to a bigger angle, I thought.

Suddenly the mechanism behind my back began to move. My knotted hands were pulled down hard and in the process the flexible seat of the chair buckled and forced me to stick my chest forward. My breasts rose up and protruded through my thin shirt. Finally the back stopped moving. I found myself in an erotic position, breasts erect and legs spread at a wide angle. What will happen when Jerry comes and sees me in this state? A blush flooded my face at the thought, but I had no choice. I could not change anything, only curse myself for my stupidity and wait for his arrival.

Suddenly I heard the sound of an engine of a vehicle approaching the compound. The noise did not resemble the sound of a car. A second later I realized it was a motorcycle. I heard the rider pass through the compound gate that I never bothered to close, and stopped. The rider stopped the motorcycle and silence returned. Did Jerry decide to come here on a motorcycle? I was wondering.

The sound of heavy footsteps was heard in the yard. I started calling out: "Jerry! Jerry! I'm here!"

No answer was heard, but the steps were getting closer.

"Jerry!" I shouted again, "I'm here in the room that opens to the left office."

There was still no answer, but the steps were getting closer. They didn't resemble Jerry's steps. I turned my head, but could not see the opening, as my back was turned to it and my movements were limited. The footsteps stopped at the door.

"Jerry, is that you?" I cried aloud, "Come and release me!"

I heard a coughing sound behind me. It wasn't Jerry.

Then the stranger came forward and stood in front of me. It was a meaty Mexican. He wore a sombrero on his head. I could not see his face, for he had wrapped his scarf around it in such a way that only his eyes were visible.

"Who are you?" I turned to him in Spanish, "Help me please." I moved my head towards the remote on the rolling dresser. "Please press the button marked 'release'."

It was evident that he understood my words. He took the remote but made no attempt to press the release button. He put the remote back in its place. He stared at me for a long moment.

"Please," I begged, "help me. I'm in a lot of pain. Please, release me."

The Mexican continued to look at me and then turned on his heel and left the room.

"please, please!" I shouted, "Don't leave me like this. Help me. Set me free!"

I heard his footsteps getting further and further away but I knew he heard me.

A moment passed that seemed like an eternity, and then the Mexican came back into the room. He looked at me a long moment. I felt humiliated under his scrutinizing gaze. He surveyed my erected breasts and the my open legs, and then apparently came to a decision. He went back and took the remote and turned the pitch angle dial. The carriers began to move and I slowly felt how the tension in the hips of the carriages eased.

But when the angle reached forty five degrees, the Mexican let go of the button.

I heard him chuckle under the veil and a shiver gripped me. He put the remote on the dresser and turned to me. I looked at him in horror. The Mexican slowly reached out and placed his hand on my left thigh. Then he caressed my body in a gentle movement and went up to my stomach and from there to my erected chest and pinched me lightly.

"Stop!" I yelled "Why are you doing this to me! Release me! Please!"

The Mexican paid no heed to my pleas. He started unbuttoning my shirts button by button and rolling them to the sides. Then he put his hands behind my back and untied the bra straps. He pulled it off me. My naked breasts were exposed to the eye.

"Enough! Enough! Please! Let me go! Don't touch me! Let me go!" I shouted hysterically.

He continued to observe for a long moment the my erected breasts. I felt humiliated and despised under his gaze and I lowered my eyes. He put his hand to my chin, raised it a little and stared at me. I smelled the sweat rising from his body. Then, as if he had come to a decision, he let go of me and began slowly untying the wide leather belt around his waist.

At that moment I realized what was going to happen.

"No!!! I screamed you won't do this to me!!!"

[To be continued]

 

[jhon scot]

Whipping (The Mexican) - Second Part

He didn't reply. I felt his body stiffen. He made a giggle sound under his scarf. I saw the hardening in his lower body.

He grabbed the heavy belt, wrapped the buckle around his wrist and landed it with a loud thud on the floor of the room. I heard the thin whistling sound and the heavy thump of the belt on the floor.

"No!!" I screamed, "Don't do this to me!!! Stop! Stop!"

He hit the floor once more as if testing the strength of the belt and then moved back a little and landed it on my right breast.

The pain was terrible. I have never been beaten in my life. I've seen women whipped and beaten in movies, but it was always soft whips that only looked like terrible tools, and the whippings, which did leave red and blue marks on the buttocks of the whipped women, were well planned to cause minimal damage and pain, but the blow of the belt that cut into my flesh caused me intense pain. The skin under the nipple cracked and drops of blood dripped from the wound. I screamed with all my might. The Mexican grinned under his scarf and once again swinged the belt.

"No!!" I screamed.

But a split second later I felt a blow that landed on the nipple of my left breast. I screamed again. My whole body shook from the intensity of the pain. I pulled my hands away in a desperate and hopeless attempt, but of course I couldn't get free. The Mexican looked at me with a penetrating look. I saw in the blink of an eye his protruding loins and then the third blow landed on me which was, it seemed to me, stronger than the previous ones. A wave of pain flooded my whole body. I screamed non-stop, begged, asked him to stop, but in vain. Again, I saw him raising hand and again the heavy belt hit me and left behind a deep scratch in my flesh dripping with blood. Another blow and another blow. I felt like a red screen unfolded before my eyes. I felt very nauseous and wanted to vomit. The taste of blood stood in my mouth. The Mexican stopped for a moment and looked at me making giggle noises. He looked at my wounded breasts and the rivulets of blood that dripped from them and it was evident that he enjoyed it.

"Please, in God's name, don't hit me again." I whispered in a low voice, "I can't. It hurts! Stop. Let me go."

For a moment I hoped he would indeed let go of me, but then I saw the dreaded belt being hoisted again. I heard the thin whistle it made and once again I felt how it tears through my flesh and shakes my whole body with pain from which there was no escape. Once again, I screamed from the intensity of the pain. Another blow and another blow. Then I must have passed out from the pain.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in my bed. I was a complete blur. I didn't realize where I was. My chest was bandaged. I saw Jerry sitting next to me. I raised myself on my elbows turned my head and vomited my soul and doing it I felt again the burning under my dressed breasts. Jerry supported me and helped me lie down again, wiped my lips with a soft cloth and brought me a cup of tea.

"How do you feel?" he asked worriedly.

I suddenly remembered everything that happened.

"The Mexican?" I asked sheepishly.

"Calm down. He ran away. He won't hurt you anymore. I saw him run away with the motorcycle when I came with the car. It's lucky that I retuned earlier. I didn't find you in the pavilion and it took me a few minutes to guess where you were. It's lucky that he left the door open."

"How long have I been with him?"

"I don't think it was more than ten minutes. I got here at about a quarter to eight and found you unconscientious on the chair. I released you and brought you into the room. You were completely blurry, not so much conscious, but I heard you moaning in pain. I called a doctor and he arrived in a short time. I tried to dub you and find out what happened, but most of the time you were unconscious. Once you woke up and shouted: 'Stop, stop! Don't hit me! I can't take it anymore!' And you passed out again. The doctor injected you with an anesthetic and bandaged the wounds. He said it would take a while for you to heal, but the wounds aren't that deep and you won't be left with scars. I think that bastard stopped whipping you as soon as you passed out. He must have gone out to get some water to wake you up and continue beating you, but then he saw my vehicle approaching. He threw the vessel with the water in the yard and fled from there. I saw the vessel with the puddle of water near the institute and that was one of the clues that led me to you."

"Jerry," I said, "don't leave me for a moment. I'm begging you. I'm scared to death."

"Don't worry. I'm staying here. Try to rest. When you feel ready, tell me what happened."

"No, no, I have to tell you now."

I briefly explained to him what had happened to me without going into details.

"Until they catch that bastard, I can't rest." I said.

"I called the police right after I called the doctor. I imagined that the guy on the motorcycle did it to you. I gave them an accurate description of the motorcycle. I hope they get on him."

Indeed, that same evening, a phone call came from the police. It turned out that that rider was a drug dealer who was going to cross the border into the United States. The police used a helicopter and tracked him down. He refused to surrender and opened fire. One of the policemen returned fire and mortally wounded him in the stomach. Before his death they still had time to interrogate him and it became clear to them that he was indeed the man who took advantage of the situation I found myself in and whipped me. He died of his injuries a short time later.

I wasn't happy about his death, but I didn't feel any guilt either. The man was a wanted criminal and was killed in a fight he himself initiated regardless of what happened to me. Anyway, my anxiety and fears subsided a little, although for a long time afterwards I suffered from nightmares and woke up almost every night screaming. The image of his hand swinging the belt over me did not let go of me, even after my wounds had healed and I was back on my feet. Jerry, in his calming, helped me to a great extent to overcome the trauma.

A few days ago, I told him I wanted to go back to the damn room and see the chair. Jerry was worried that the sight would only bring back bad memories, but I was determined. I felt I owed it to myself.

We entered the room. On the chair and on the floor, there were still stains of clotted blood, my blood. I looked at it for a long moment and then turned towards the showcase in the corner of the room, which at the time I only glanced at. In the lower drawer there were three horsewhips, each terrible from the other. One was a half meter long thick leather horsewhip, the other a longer horrible whip with three straps each ending in a jagged metal dowel. The third was made of nine rubber strips joined at the base and each of them had lumps of lead embedded in them at equal intervals. On the other drawer there was a square net that resembled an apron in shape, made of thin metal with six tying straps. On the surface of the net, at almost every junction, a serrated lug was set. There were about one hundred and fifty such lugs, and each of them was covered with tiny bumps, some of which faced the surface and some of them in the opposite direction. I looked at it. It was clear to me that this was a certain type of torture instrument, but at that moment I did not know what use it would be made of.

At the end of the shelf was a videotape with a picture of a woman in her thirties, with unusually plump breasts. Underneath the picture was written "Juliet" and under the inscription "Chest and buttock whipping".

"Jerry," I told him, "I want you to look at this film and tell me what's in it. I'm not sure I have the strength to watch it myself. But maybe after you tell me I'll decide to watch it myself anyway.

"Whatever you say." He answered me "I'll take it to the screening room and record my impressions and you can listen to them at your leisure without me, and then make up your mind. I completely understand how you feel. Do what's best for you."

It was a good offer. I wanted to hear what was happening in the film through Jerry's mediation and do it when I was alone with myself. I knew that watching the movie wouldn't be easy for Jerry, but I trusted him.

Jerry kept his promise. Two days later he handed me the tape.

"Don't listen to my report at night. You should listen to it in the morning. Things are not easy. I recorded them right after I screened the film, and until now, the sights I saw gave me chills and made me feel sick. Think carefully if you really want to hear what's going on there."

I thought about it a lot, and then almost a week after he gave me the tape, I listened to the recording. Jerry tried to keep his composure and describe what he saw matter-of-factly, but in certain sections I felt from the tremor in his voice that he had been through a difficult experience and watching the film left impressions on him that will not soon be erased. I also noticed how much he tries to soften the harsh scenes he saw for me for fear that his words will cause me renewed trauma.

I will briefly summarize the main points of his words here.

"The film begins with a picture of Juliet sitting on the chair in the waiting room. She looks a little sleepy. She shakes herself, glances at the clock, takes out a small mirror and lipstick and fixes the lipstick on her lower lip. A girl's voice is heard on the intercom inviting her to come in. She gets up from her seat, goes to the office door and opens it. Miller welcomes her with a smile and invites her to sit down. The camera skips between Miller looking at her with a questioning look and between Juliet who seems flattered by his interest and sticks out her breast a little almost teasingly.

They start chatting. It seems that this is not the first time they have met. Miller thanks her for coming such a long way to come to his office. It turns out that Juliet is a very reputable organizational consultant (I did a cursory check on the internet and she was indeed very well known in her field at the time).

[To be continued].

Please write real feedback, not jyst "likes" and "loves".

 

[jhon scot]

Whipping (The Mexican) - Third Part

Miller tells her about his intention to establish a pain research institute. An institute that will engage in in-depth research into the sources of the various types of pain and the ways in which patients suffering from them can be relieved. He is talking about a very large institute that will employ hundreds of researchers and laboratory workers all over the world. At a certain point in the conversation, he tells her about laboratory equipment and pieces of furniture that he intends to purchase for the various branches of the future institute. He invites her to go with him to the next room to test a prototype for a sophisticated treatment chair developed by engineers on his behalf, and which he wants to become standard equipment in all the institute's treatment rooms.

They enter the next room—the room you know with the chair in the center. The cabinet with the devices is hidden behind a mobile screen. Miller invites her to sit in the chair for a moment to give him an opinion on its design. Juliet agrees and sits down. She loudly admires the design and the seating comfort. Miller asks her if the seat of the chair doesn't seem too low or too narrow to her and politely asks her to put her hands behind the chair for a moment. Juliet also agrees to this request and at that moment Miller activates the trapping mechanism and Juliet finds herself bound to the chair."

I felt the tremor in Jerry's voice as he reached this point in his report and began to describe Juliet's reactions. Jerry tried to continue objectively documenting what happened next, but as the report progressed, I could feel the vibration in his voice. He tried to clarify the words to make it easier for me to absorb, I suppose, the difficult sights he saw. There were parts of the report where his voice almost choked.

Of course, I knew what was going to happen next, but I decided to continue listening to the recording. One sentence Jerry quoted from Miller's words sticks in my memory. Jerry briefly described how Miller unbuttoned her shirt and removed her bra and how, immediately after he spread Juliet's legs apart and pulled her hands down in a way that caused her back to arch back and her breasts to stick out more and more, he took a long look at her magnificent bosom and remarked sarcastically: "My dear, you have a magnificent chest and a perfect pair of the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen. I am sorry that they will not remain in this shape for long. The treatment I will give them in a moment may distort their shape irreparably. There is nothing to be done. This is the price that you must pay to allow me to fully complete the treatment I planned for you and I will immediately explain the details to you."

At this point I stopped the tape recording. I told myself there was no point in continuing to listen. Despite everything, I wanted to see things with my own eyes. Jerry noted in the report the point in time in the film. I tuned the movie to the point in time when Miller activated the capture button and started watching the movie.

Juliet was of course surprised by what was happening. She demanded an explanation from Miller and demanded that he release her. I will not describe here in detail the conversation that took place between them. All that I can say is that Miller chose his words well and gradually built and intensified her anxiety. It was evident that he enjoyed prolonging this phase as much as possible. He was in no hurry. He explained to her repeatedly that he had to force her into a chair to be sure she would cooperate with him in the future treatment he intended to give her, but avoided her questions about the nature of that treatment. I got to the point where he exposed her breasts and uttered the sentence I quoted earlier. Juliet's anxiety grew up from moment to moment. All her pleas, requests and threats fell on deaf ears. Miller occasionally dropped little hints as to what was going to happen next, but did so in a way that still wouldn't allow her to understand exactly what it was. From time to time, he bothered to inform her that at the end of the treatment he would release her. He let her understand that it was a kind of game. As soon as he noticed that she was starting to relax a little he once again apologized vaguely for having to hurt her somewhat, but immediately qualified his words and let her understand that it was nothing serious.

It was clear to me that he was playing with her like a cat with a mouse. And so it went on for long minutes. Juliet's anxiety and fears grew. She began to cry, and Miller stroked her hair and whispered soothing words in her ears.

Then came the moment when he pulled back the curtain, went to the cabinet and brought from the display case the three whips, the net and the two large syringes, each of which contained 750 cc of cloudy liquid and ended with a very long needle. He placed all the instruments on the dresser in front of her without saying a word.

I saw the anxiety reflected in her eyes. Miller took the first whip, the leather horsewhip and waved it lightly. Juliet trembled all over and looked at him with a tormented look.

I stopped the movie. I watched the look that froze on her face. I knew exactly how the poor woman felt at that moment. Before my eyes came that terrible moment when the Mexican pulled the belt from his pants and hit it on the floor of the room. I took a long breath and turned on the movie.

Miller was in no rush. He began to explain in a matter-of-fact voice to sobbing and frightened Juliet what exactly he intended to do to her virgin body and what role each of the horsewhips was going to play in the "treatment" he intended for her.

Juliet started screaming hysterically.

Miller continued his explanations, as if he didn't hear her at all. He went on to explain to her what the dreaded syringes were for. When he finished his words, he put the horsewhips back on the dresser and took the net with the sharpening metal apron in his hands.

Juliet looked at him with wide eyes. She knew like I did that it was some kind of torture device, but she didn't know what use he was going to make of it. I didn't know either, but my heart predicted bad things for me.

A second later it became clear to both of us the satanic role intended for the net. Miller spread the net point up, cupped Juliet's heavy left breast in his palm and tucked the end of the net into the gap between the breast and the chest. Then he lift her right breast in the same way and pull the net to the left and up. The net did play the role of a shield, a shield that only a diabolical and twisted mind could think of. He tied the four straps behind her back and the two remaining straps above her neck so that the net was securely fastened to the chest below the breasts.

[to be continued]

Please send real feedback, not just "likes".

 

[Hugin&Munin]

Whipping (The Mexican) - Third Part

Miller tells her about his intention to establish a pain research institute. An institute that will engage in in-depth research into the sources of the various types of pain and the ways in which patients suffering from them can be relieved. He is talking about a very large institute that will employ hundreds of researchers and laboratory workers all over the world. At a certain point in the conversation, he tells her about laboratory equipment and pieces of furniture that he intends to purchase for the various branches of the future institute. He invites her to go with him to the next room to test a prototype for a sophisticated treatment chair developed by engineers on his behalf, and which he wants to become standard equipment in all the institute's treatment rooms.

They enter the next room—the room you know with the chair in the center. The cabinet with the devices is hidden behind a mobile screen. Miller invites her to sit in the chair for a moment to give him an opinion on its design. Juliet agrees and sits down. She loudly admires the design and the seating comfort. Miller asks her if the seat of the chair doesn't seem too low or too narrow to her and politely asks her to put her hands behind the chair for a moment. Juliet also agrees to this request and at that moment Miller activates the trapping mechanism and Juliet finds herself bound to the chair."

I felt the tremor in Jerry's voice as he reached this point in his report and began to describe Juliet's reactions. Jerry tried to continue objectively documenting what happened next, but as the report progressed, I could feel the vibration in his voice. He tried to clarify the words to make it easier for me to absorb, I suppose, the difficult sights he saw. There were parts of the report where his voice almost choked.

Of course, I knew what was going to happen next, but I decided to continue listening to the recording. One sentence Jerry quoted from Miller's words sticks in my memory. Jerry briefly described how Miller unbuttoned her shirt and removed her bra and how, immediately after he spread Juliet's legs apart and pulled her hands down in a way that caused her back to arch back and her breasts to stick out more and more, he took a long look at her magnificent bosom and remarked sarcastically: "My dear, you have a magnificent chest and a perfect pair of the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen. I am sorry that they will not remain in this shape for long. The treatment I will give them in a moment may distort their shape irreparably. There is nothing to be done. This is the price that you must pay to allow me to fully complete the treatment I planned for you and I will immediately explain the details to you."

At this point I stopped the tape recording. I told myself there was no point in continuing to listen. Despite everything, I wanted to see things with my own eyes. Jerry noted in the report the point in time in the film. I tuned the movie to the point in time when Miller activated the capture button and started watching the movie.

Juliet was of course surprised by what was happening. She demanded an explanation from Miller and demanded that he release her. I will not describe here in detail the conversation that took place between them. All that I can say is that Miller chose his words well and gradually built and intensified her anxiety. It was evident that he enjoyed prolonging this phase as much as possible. He was in no hurry. He explained to her repeatedly that he had to force her into a chair to be sure she would cooperate with him in the future treatment he intended to give her, but avoided her questions about the nature of that treatment. I got to the point where he exposed her breasts and uttered the sentence I quoted earlier. Juliet's anxiety grew up from moment to moment. All her pleas, requests and threats fell on deaf ears. Miller occasionally dropped little hints as to what was going to happen next, but did so in a way that still wouldn't allow her to understand exactly what it was. From time to time, he bothered to inform her that at the end of the treatment he would release her. He let her understand that it was a kind of game. As soon as he noticed that she was starting to relax a little he once again apologized vaguely for having to hurt her somewhat, but immediately qualified his words and let her understand that it was nothing serious.

It was clear to me that he was playing with her like a cat with a mouse. And so it went on for long minutes. Juliet's anxiety and fears grew. She began to cry, and Miller stroked her hair and whispered soothing words in her ears.

Then came the moment when he pulled back the curtain, went to the cabinet and brought from the display case the three whips, the net and the two large syringes, each of which contained 750 cc of cloudy liquid and ended with a very long needle. He placed all the instruments on the dresser in front of her without saying a word.

I saw the anxiety reflected in her eyes. Miller took the first whip, the leather horsewhip and waved it lightly. Juliet trembled all over and looked at him with a tormented look.

I stopped the movie. I watched the look that froze on her face. I knew exactly how the poor woman felt at that moment. Before my eyes came that terrible moment when the Mexican pulled the belt from his pants and hit it on the floor of the room. I took a long breath and turned on the movie.

Miller was in no rush. He began to explain in a matter-of-fact voice to sobbing and frightened Juliet what exactly he intended to do to her virgin body and what role each of the horsewhips was going to play in the "treatment" he intended for her.

Juliet started screaming hysterically.

Miller continued his explanations, as if he didn't hear her at all. He went on to explain to her what the dreaded syringes were for. When he finished his words, he put the horsewhips back on the dresser and took the net with the sharpening metal apron in his hands.

Juliet looked at him with wide eyes. She knew like I did that it was some kind of torture device, but she didn't know what use he was going to make of it. I didn't know either, but my heart predicted bad things for me.

A second later it became clear to both of us the satanic role intended for the net. Miller spread the net point up, cupped Juliet's heavy left breast in his palm and tucked the end of the net into the gap between the breast and the chest. Then he lift her right breast in the same way and pull the net to the left and up. The net did play the role of a shield, a shield that only a diabolical and twisted mind could think of. He tied the four straps behind her back and the two remaining straps above her neck so that the net was securely fastened to the chest below the breasts.

[to be continued]

Please send real feedback, not just "likes".

A different but very interesting story. I like that most of it is told from the victim's point of view. I'm already looking forward to the next part.

 

[jhon scot]

A different but very interesting story. I like that most of it is told from the victim's point of view. I'm already looking forward to the next part.

Thank you. Soon I'll bring another part of my book where Miller finds a creative way to find out what what the victim feels and experiences.
Right now I bring the last part of whipping (The Mexican).

Whipping (The Mexican) - Fourth Part

Juliet began to scream in terror as she realized the gruesome role intended for the device wrapped around her body. The bottom of her breasts touched the metal spikes underneath. My heart skipped a beat when I realized what would happen once Miller started whipping her breasts. I remembered the tiny bumps that decorated each of the spikes and that some of them turned towards the net and some of them in the opposite direction...

I stopped the movie. I knew that in a moment I would see what Jerry had seen before me. I knew he had a difficult experience. How will I feel in a moment when I look at the terrible things Miller will do to poor Juliet?

I looked at Juliet's heavy and full breasts. They reached sixty centimeters in length and the pink nipples that protruded from them were placed almost above the lower part of the net. I closed my eyes and imagined in my mind's eye what was going to happen in a moment. A feeling of suffocation took hold of me. When the Mexican raised his hand and hit me for the first time, I had not yet fully understood what a situation I was in. Things happened very quickly. But in Juliet's case, Miller made sure to intensify her anxiety and fears to unbearable levels.

I played the movie. Miller was in no rush. He checked that the net was properly fixed, lightly pinched her big pink nipples and felt her large breasts with both hands. I saw how her skin shivered under his touch. Then he meticulously cleaned both of her breasts with gauze soaked in alcohol and then took one of the syringes and began to insert the thick needle deep into her left breast about two centimeters above the nipple.

Juliet screamed and whimpered as the needle penetrated her flesh. Miller each time injected a small amount of fluid into the breast cavity, pulled back the needle and stuck it in a different spot. Every time Miller injected a dose of liquid into her breast, Juliet screamed in pain.

Miller just looked at her with a smile on his lips. Again and again he injected more and more portions of the liquid until the syringe was completely empty. The breast swelled more and more. The process was repeated in the other breast as well, and the strangled screams that came out of Juliet's mouth testified to the great pain caused by the contents of the syringes. The liquid was intended to cause the breasts to harden, and indeed the breasts rose up somewhat and the nipples, into which Miller injected some of the liquid, swelled and became firm. According to Juliet's reactions to the introduction of the substance, it was clear to me that the liquid also contained burning substances that caused her intense pain.

Then came the most terrible moment of all: Miller took the broad leather whip, stepped back and landed it on her breasts.

There was a sickening sound of the whip hitting the flesh. Juliet let out a blood curdling scream of pain. The strap cut a deep bleeding groove that ran across both breasts. Miller smiled and picked up the terrible whip again. I watched in horror as the whip landed with great force on the lower part of her large breasts and caused them to be pressed down. It was clear from Juliet's tortured screams that some of the spikes on the net got stuck in the lower part of her breasts and caused her excruciating agony. She screamed with all her might without stopping. Miller landed the whip once again. Juliet's screams grew louder.

Miller let go of the whip for a moment, grabbed Juliet's nipples with both hands and pulled her breasts back and up. I saw how the prongs were pulled out one by one from the breasts as they tore bleeding wounds. Juliet screamed in a heartbreaking voice. I stopped the movie. I felt very nauseous and wanted to vomit. I knew exactly what she was going through and it was clear to me that her pain would get worse in the future. I went to the bathroom and threw up and then went back to the screening room. I watched for a long time Juliet's frozen face that reflected indescribable suffering and horror.

I hesitated whether to continue watching the terrible spectacle. Somehow, I felt that I owed her this gesture of identification with her suffering. After I calmed down a bit I sat down and turned on the movie. Miller swung his hand again and Juliet's whole body shook from the force of the blow. It was an even stronger blow than the previous ones. The metal prongs released by Miller sank once again deep into the flesh of her breasts. She didn't stop screaming for a moment. Another stroke and another stroke and again Miller pulled her breasts, this time slowly but firmly. In addition to the horrifying screams that came from her mouth, I could hear the tearing sounds of the flesh of the breasts as the terrible prongs were pulled out of them one by one. Streams of blood flowed down her stomach and pooled around her navel.

The camera focused momentarily on Miller's face. I could well feel the pleasure he derived from the act of whipping. I remembered the sounds the Mexican made as he whipped my breasts with his belt. The Mexican's face was covered in his scarf. I only heard the muffled voice he uttered, but here I saw Miller's open face whose expression revealed the delight and sadistic pleasure he felt at the sight of Juliet's tormented face and at the screams of pain that emanated from her mouth.

Miller continued his diabolical work. Another series of whips landed on Juliet's tortured breasts. She cried, screamed and whimpered, and begged for her life. For a moment it occurred to me how I would have felt if I had been destined to be under Miller's care and not just to fall into the hands of that damned Mexican.

Miller placed the first whip and took the triple strip horsewhip. He brought it closer to Juliet's face and pointed to the terrifying metal lugs that protruded from the ends of the straps.

Juliet looked at them and her fear was reflected in her eyes. She screamed hysterically: "Enough, enough! I can't take it anymore! Stop! Please!!! Why are you doing this to me?!"

Miller smiled again. It was evident how much he delights the sight of fear and despair reflected in her eyes.

He stepped back, swung the whip high above his head and landed it on her left breast. My whole body shuddered at the terrible sight. Juliet's screams deafened my ears. The horrendous dowels caused horrible wounds on her erected breasts. The cruel blows landed on both of her breasts continuously and turned the flesh of her breasts into a bleeding pulp.

I fast forwarded the movie. At one point, Miller used the third whip. Juliet's pain reached new heights. Each blow of the third whip tore her breasts to shreds and sent animalistic screams and yells from her mouth. When Miller finished the whipping job, Juliet's breasts turned into two shapeless, bleeding lumps of flesh. Miller took pliers and completed the job of ripping pieces of flesh, skin, fat and muscle from the wreckage of her breasts. Juliet did not stop screaming for a moment.

She did not pass out even once during the terrible torture. Her screams and wails pounded in my head whenever I watched the movie. In the end, Miller left the deadly weapon and with the help of an electric device that looked like a white-hot spoon he repeatedly touched what was left of her breasts to stop the bleeding. This process also caused terrible screams of pain from her mouth. He did not bother to remove from her body the net on which her breasts were impaled.

Then Miller released her hands that were cuffed behind her back and tied them to the seats of the chair. Even these slight movements shook her body and a new wave of squeals of pain escaped from her mouth. Miller gave her a blood transfusion apparently to prevent her from having a shock due to the large amount of blood she had lost. When he finished, he left the room. The camera focused on her face twisted in agony and the ruins of her bleeding breasts.

A few minutes later, Miller came back into the room. He removed Juliet's skirt and panties. Her lower body was exposed. Miller pressed a button on the remote and the chair began to move in a circular motion in such a way that her body tilted further and further down while the seat rose back and up. He removed part of the seat and revealed her pink butt. Juliet screamed hysterically and begged him to stop torturing her. "Enough, enough! I can't take it anymore! Kill me! Stop torturing me!"

Miller smiled. Her small butt aroused his sadistic urges again.

I will not describe what happened next. I will only point out that Miller used the three whips in the same way and in the same order and turned her buttocks into bloody lumps of flesh. I have no words to describe the intensity of her pain and the terrible screams that came out of poor Juliet's mouth.

When it was all over, I stopped the movie and went to the bathroom again. Intense nausea attacked me. I went to my room and lay on the bed with my eyes closed, but the horrible images did not leave me and her screams of pain still echoed in my head for a long time.

 

[jhon scot]

One more chapter from my book. For the general background see previous chapters.

As usual I'll be grateful to receive feedback and may be some images that can illustrate the written text.

The Inquisition Museum – First Part

One day John came to a visit.

I knew that when John comes to me unexpectedly he has good news, and indeed I was not mistaken.

"Listen, this time you're going to enjoy yourself like you haven't in a long time. Let me invite you to Joe's pub. I want to show you something. Drinks are on me."

When we arrived at the pub it was quite early. Most of the tables were empty. We sat down at the table next to the window.

"Well?"

"Patience, it's still early. She'll be here around seven. She has pretty regular habits. You can trust me. I've done extensive research on her."

"How does she look like?"

"Look, I know your taste. You won't be disappointed. She's thirty-six. Perfect body, except for a few scars on her hands from burns she got when she was a child, but we'll get to that later. She has a magnificent chest—she was just born that way. I couldn't design something better than this. A pair of erect breasts that make every man around get excited. She has a good endurance capacity which of course I'll increase, a natural sensitivity to pain and an amazing creative imagination that you will soon understand how it relates to the surprise that I have for you. Oh, here she comes. Just in time!"

A quick glance through the window was enough for him to prove that my friend scored exactly in my opinion this time. "Listen, she's really amazing!"

"Wait until she come in and see her without the window dividing."

A few seconds later she opened the pub door and entered. Almost all the eyes of the few men in the pub surveyed her with an appreciative look.

She ignored the stares—It seemed that she had long since gotten used to the lustful looks that men sent her everywhere she went.

"You couldn't have picked someone cooler. I'm already starting to imagine what I'll do to you. How do you know her?"

"You'll see soon."

She surveyed those present with her gaze. It looked like she was going to sit down at the bar, but then she saw us and turned towards us. A wide smile appeared on her face.

"Hello Norma, how are you. What a surprise. I didn't expect to meet you here."

"John? This is really a surprise. I didn't know you were coming to our neighborhood."

"Let me introduce you. This is Norma. She works for us in the development department of printing 3D objects. She recently completed an amazing project that brought the company a lot of capital."

A slight blush flooded her face at the compliment.

"Norma, this is an old friend of mine, Dr. Moon."

"Nice to meet you. Well, I won't disturb you. I only came to empty a glass. It inspires me."

"No no, it's perfectly fine."

She moved away from our table and approached the bar.

"So what's the story?"

"Don't look at her now. You'll still have the opportunity to spend as many intimate hours with her as you like. She came to your company quite by chance. We posted a wanted ad for a job in the design department of printing objects and she answered the ad. I would have hired her anyway because of her appearance, because I knew that you don't come across such a pearl like this every day, but it turned out that she is not only beautiful and shapely, but also with a head on her shoulders. She has unusual ingenuity and a creative imagination. When I hired her, I of course put her through the brain scanner, but after getting to know her a little, I've come up with a lovely idea. You'll go crazy when I tell you!”

"Well, you've piqued my curiosity. Tell me already."

"Patience. Let me tell it in my own way. After I stood up for her creativity and did a comprehensive investigation of her past and after checking all the data that came up in the scan, one day I thought of a bright idea. I summoned her to my office and asked her if she would agree to work on an unusual project that was commissioned by the director of a museum from Amsterdam.

I will describe to you as best I can what happened.

I told her that this is a museum that recreates the torture cellars of the Spanish Inquisition. They are interested in reproducing instruments of torture that were used by inquisitors in the sixteenth century and in interrogation rooms of all kinds of dark regimes, but they have no intention of sticking to the historical truth. They want to allow visitors to operate the various tools on female dolls and to add all kinds of stunts to the dolls—to make the dolls scream in pain every time they are stabbed or tortured. Make them bleeding while the visitors injure them with the instruments of torture and so on. In short, it will be an active museum that will allow visitors to play the role of inquisitors torturing witches, or investigators in the modern era trying to get information out of detainees using unconventional methods, to say the least.

There is a large crowd drawn to these types of games and they hope to make a fortune from it. For this purpose they do not want to be satisfied with the reproduction of original torture devices but to create a variety of modern torture tools. And here—that's what I told her—you come into the picture. I could take ready-made diagrams of familiar torture devices like the Pear of Agony, the Breast Ripper, and the Spider and reproduce them using the printer, but I want you to make improvements and invent new things.

"That sounds pretty horrible" was her first reaction "and I'm not sure I'd want to be involved in such a project."

But I didn't give up. I explained to her the potential inherent in the order. I told her that the director of the museum was willing to pay huge sums if he got the merchandise he envisioned, and that she would receive a special grant for it of the order of twenty percent of the expected profits—a five-digit number and maybe even more. Among other things, she took it upon herself to write down a description of the use of each and every one of the devices she will create. I explained to her that the director of the museum intends to print these descriptions and give them to the visitors to excite their imagination.

I eventually convinced her.

"Okay okay. If you say it's a short project of a month total, I'll do it. I don't really know how to start."

"Listen, Norma," I told her, "I've prepared a historical investigation for you here with all the drawings. Start with that, and then think something like this: imagine you're a woman living in the Middle Ages and the Inquisition imprisons you and intends to torture you so that you confess that you're a witch, or you're arrested for no reason in a South American country and you were brought to an interrogation room. Imagine what torture devices and what types of torture would frighten you the most. Think as a woman about the types of devices that the mere sight of them would have been enough to inspire you with uncontrollable terror if you were in the position of those unfortunates. Think About the biggest nightmare you can think of, then design the tools accordingly and define how to use them. I know you have a rich imagination and what you design will give me nightmares too."

She laughed a strange kind of laugh, and I knew what thoughts were passing through her head. I told you she was burned as a child. The full story is that their house caught fire and her mother burned alive in front of her eyes. She herself was badly burned and as a child underwent painful treatments in the hospital and eventually recovered.

I knew she would think of devices that could be white-heated and used to cause burns, and I knew she would incorporate electrical elements, but when I saw the results it was simply amazing. I gave her an unlimited budget, and she really used her imagination and created terror-inducing devices that combine the usual physical torture of stabbing, ripping and, tearing to shreds organs with elements of burns and the controlled use of heat and electricity. It was also clear to me that this was not just imagination, but devices that would indeed do the job in a clean and lasting way and cause the patient indescribable suffering. Among other things, she designed an elaborate treatment chair that makes it possible to stretch the patient's limbs, force her to sit in increasingly painful positions, sprain her joints, tear tendons and even break her bones, all at a slow pace in a way that will cause the patient maximum pain and minimum physical harm and will bring her to heights of suffering that you have not yet reached with all your experience.

Then I told her that the company manager wanted to see a demonstration of the tools and how to use them. We set up an improvised torture cellar with all the objects arranged on a table with some dolls tied up on chairs and with the special chair she designed. I came there with her, then my phone rang. I told her that the manager of the company told me that he would not be able to come, and that he would like her to demonstrate the various devices to me, and that I would do the demonstration for him myself as soon as he was free. She was very happy to hear that she will not have to demonstrate the devices to a stranger and answer questions. She presented one by one all the devices she had made and demonstrated to me how she produces the highest level of screams of pain from the artificial dolls and puts on their faces expressions of agony that the director of the museum had planned for them.

Finally I asked her to sit on the chair she designed. She was so enthusiastic and proud of what she made and so impressed by my enthusiasm that she agreed to that too. She sat down and I activated the button that caused the straps to tighten her automatically, then I pressed according to her instructions on various buttons on the remote control, of course not at a level that caused her any pain, but gave me a so-called idea of the potential inherent in the chair.

For her, that was the end of the story. I scanned her brain and got her memories until the moment she sat down in the chair and I activated the button.

Yesterday I finished restoring her and she is ready. As far as she was concerned, she would find herself sitting in the chair exactly as she sat down then. She will think she fell asleep for a moment and will surely apologize and ask me to let her go. You will see the rest tomorrow from the preview screen, when you arrive at the institute. One last thing. You should focus more on her reactions than what I will do to her. The cameras will document everything and in the future you will be able to see anything you want."

"You're just a genius!" I said to him, "Don't go on. I understand now. Any device you pick up will cause her early anxiety because she has already imagined over and over again in her mind's eye what it can do and designed it in a way that would cause herself the greatest suffering, and you will implement step by step what she herself planned! A woman who plans the tools with which she will be tortured. It's simply genius!"

That night I sat and read all the documentation she wrote, in order to be updated on how the tools she designed worked and how they were used according to what she imagined. I hardly slept that night because of anticipation of what awaits me tomorrow.

[To be continued]

As usual I'll be grateful to receive reel feedback and may be some images that can illustrate the written text.

 

[jhon scot]

The Inquisition Museum – Second Part

The next day at the appointed time I positioned myself in the observation room in front of the wide screen. I saw the torture cellar as John designed it. The dolls were already in place and all the infernal devices she had designed were placed in a neat order on the table. I looked at them as if mesmerized. I imagined to myself, according to the detailed documentation Norma had written, how John would use them, and my heart was wide with the joy of anticipation. A minute later, John brought sleeping Norma in the special chair she had designed herself. I must say it was designed so well that we have since used it instead of the clunky chair that John designed at the time.

And then the unforgettable spectacle began. Norma opened her eyes. She must have felt as if she fell asleep for a moment. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was.

"Wow! This chair is so comfortable. I literally fell asleep in it. Forgive me. Can you push the button and let me go."

He smiled at her. In the minutes before she woke up, I had more than enough time to observe her closely and marvel again at the appearance of her solid body and her perky breasts that even without pulling her hands back protruded impressively forward.

"Sure. I'll release you right away. Just let me test some of the chair's performance again before I do."

He pressed the button that caused the arms to be pulled down and which, in perfect coordination with the curving backrest, made her highlight her body's cuteness even more.

It was obvious that she did not like this position, but she restrained herself and said nothing.

"And now I want to check the opening angle of the legs."

He pressed the appropriate button and the foot guides began to move. The opening angle of the legs got wider and wider. The scale mark ordered an angle of 90 degrees

"Stop, stop! You're starting to hurt me. It's uncomfortable."

A few more degrees. I want to see how far the carriers can be opened. He turned the knob until the angle increased to 95 degrees

"Enough, enough!" she exclaimed in panic. It really hurts. I don't like it. Release Me. Do the test on the doll."

"Patience. I want to see if it is possible to reach an opening angle of 120 degrees."

"No! No! You really, really hurt me anyway."

"Here we have already reached 100. Is it so terrible?"

"Ayeee! Stop. Let me go. You're stretching my muscles and it really hurts. Don't go on!"

"Another twenty degrees. I'll do it in stages, little by little like you wrote in the operating instructions." And he pressed once more the button and increased the angle to 105 degrees.

"Ayeee! Ayeee! Stop!" she screamed. A note of panic mixed in her voice, "It hurts so bad!"

"I'm done. Here we are at 110..."

"Stop! Stop! Ayeee! I can't. Stop, stop!" she begged

He kept pressing the button. "112, 115, 117. Here we are at 120. How are you feeling?"

"Ayeee!" A sharp scream escaped from her throat, "It hurts! Stop! I can't! Let me go! Why are you doing this to me?"

He laughed and returned the angle to seventy degrees.

A sigh of relief escaped her mouth. She was pale and beads of sweat ran down her forehead.

"Please. I'm not a guinea pig. Let me go!"

"If I release you completely, I will no longer be able to make you sit again in the chair of your own free will. I must say that I feel the same as the visitors to the museum will surely feel when they practice your devices on the dolls, but to do it to a flesh and blood woman, it is much more pleasurable."

She looked at him in astonishment, trying to digest his words.

"Yes, my dear. Now that we are here alone we can have fun and check out one by one all the wonderful devices you designed. I know you put a lot of thought and creative imagination into them and they will do exactly what you planned.

I guess in the next few minutes you'll start screaming like you've never screamed before. I will check all the devices on you and I will not skip anything. It will of course take a good few hours and we may also go deep into the night, and who knows—if you hold on, we can continue tomorrow as well. What do you say?"

"Are you out of your mind? What do you think you're doing? I'm an employee of the company. I only came to demonstrate the use of the devices and provide you with explanations on how to operate them. What you do with them is your business. I'm not part of this story."

"I'm afraid you're wrong. You're part of the deal and maybe the best part of it. If we have to, we'll find a replacement for you, and in the meantime we'll have more and more fun here."

"You have no right to treat me like that. Release me immediately. I will file a sexual harassment complaint against you!"

"Ta ta ta. This will be much more than sexual harassment. But no talk. Let's start with actions. I have this wonderful device here."

He picked up from the table a tool that looked like an awl covered with lugs whose tip was as sharp as a very thick needle. On its handle were several electrical switches and a power cord ending in a plug came out of its base. "In the instructions you wrote down it says that it is intended for use in the armpit. Let's see how exactly you intended it to be used. But first let me invite my friend Dr. Mon to also participate in the pleasures that await you. You surely remember him from the coffeehouse. I'm afraid he has a sadistic nature no less than I do"

[Tp be continued]

As usual I'll be grateful to receive reel feedback and may be some images that can illustrate the written text.

 

[jhon scot]

The Inquisition Museum – Third Part

He undid the top two buttons of her shirt and exposed her left armpit. "The place must be cleaned thoroughly to prevent infections" he read from the written page.

"You pay great attention to details. Although we told you that the tools would be used on dolls, you took your work very seriously and wrote down the things as if they were living women. This is excellent! The customers will accept your written instructions and follow them, which will make them feel as if it were a real woman.

But here, in relation to you, it's definitely an important guideline and I'm going to use it."

He dipped a cotton ball in alcohol and cleaned her armpit thoroughly.

"Are you crazy! Stop it. I won't let you do this to me!"

He ignored her words and continued to read from the page: "Connect the plug into an electrical outlet. Show the device to the patient and press the red button on the handle. The end of the device contains a tiny heating element that will cause the needle to heat up until the tip becomes red hot and begins to glow. This will cause horror fear in the patient's heart. She will understand that the device can be heated until white-hot and cause her severe pain."

"Good. In your case, you know, as the planner, what it will look like, but I will still check that the device does what you describe."

He pressed the button and a few seconds later its tip glowed with a bright red light that soon turned into a whitish glow.

She looked at him with wide open eyes.

"Immerse the tip in water to cool the device before using it."

"Here I do."

He dipped the tip of the skewer in the water. There was a sound of sizzling and steam rose from the water.

"Well, I think it's fine. Here I touch the tip with my bare finger. It's a little warm but doesn't cause me any pain. Let's see what you wrote next."

It is written here: "Penetrate the device in a quick movement in the center of the armpit to a depth of ten mm. Pay attention to the markings on the edge of the device."

"You really did a thorough job. I see that it is marked here for me exactly to what depth to stick it in at the beginning and in what jumps to advance."

He read again from the page: "After the device has penetrated the patient's skin gently push it forward until the next scale mark. Do this at a slow pace to gradually increase the pain. Continue in this way until three centimeters of the needle penetrate into the armpit. Now pull the device back and push it forward again. Repeat this action over and over so that the patient feels the pain caused by the lugs on the needle. Note. Some of the lugs curve backwards. Slight back and forth movements are enough to cause the patient severe pain and to elicit screams of pain from her mouth.

Wait half a minute and then continue to deepen the device more and more until it reaches the nerve junction near the muscle. You will be able to tell exactly when you reached it by the sharp screams the patient will make."

"Excellent. These are really precise instructions that I would be very pleasant to carry out."

"Continue to slowly insert the needle until it is completely immersed in the patient's flesh. At this point the needle will penetrate the muscle, and she will writhe in pain. Wait another half a minute in this position and then turn on the slow heating button. The needle will heated until white-hot at a rate of one degree every five seconds. As soon as the heat passes the threshold of forty degrees Celsius, she will react with hysterical screams. After you have extracted all the pleasure from her reactions, you can monitor the duration of the heating and the temperature and determine the desired heating rate.

In the next step, turn on the heating until incandescent and pull the device back in a slow, uniform motion. The lugs will cause the tissue and skin to tear, but the incandescent end will cause the blood to clot quickly, so that there will not be a massive hemorrhage and the actual damage will be minimized."

"Wonderful! just wonderful! The way you imagined the reactions and the way you propose to draw the torture further and further. I have no words!"

"Okay, now we get to the execution."

I watched her face. It was an exciting moment. I saw John take the device and carefully point it at the center of her armpit.

She was panicked and looked at him with frightened eyes. I imagined the thoughts going through her mind.

"No! No! Don't do this to me! You can't! I don't agree! Stop it! It's not a joke! Enough! Enough!"

"Great! You're getting hot! Here have this. Exactly as directed!" John quickly stuck the needle into a her armpit.

Norma screamed. It was a scream of terror of pain and astonishment. She realized what was going to happen and tried with all her might to break the straps that forced her into place. I felt inestimable pleasure at the sight.

John smiled and continued exactly as written on the pages in his hand. Norma didn't stop screaming and whining and with each additional step her screams got louder and louder.

"And now, after you've really fired me up with your screams, I'll pay you back just as much and fire you up."

"No, no!" She screamed in despair, "Just not this. Don't use the heating. I'm begging you, please…"

He pressed the button. "I'm curious to know at what temperature you'll start screaming. Thank you for the thermometer you incorporated here in the base. 35… 36… 38… 40… 41..."

A desperate scream erupted from her mouth. The accumulated heat began to sear her flesh. The process took long minutes, but when the temperature reached seventy degrees, her whole body began to tremble from the intensity of the pain. Her screams skyrocketed. Her face contorted. She fluttered on the chair in a kind of desperate dance trying to somehow soften the pain of the fire burning into her flesh, but to no avail. He fiddled with the button, raised and lowered the temperature and studied her tortured face with pleasure. I tried to imagine what she was going through. Finally he pressed the incandescent button and start pulling the needle back in a uniform motion. Tears of charred flesh and clotted blood emanated from the terrible wound that had opened in her armpit.

I've never had so much fun. I closely followed her facial expressions—a mixture of pain and terror. Her sobs gradually faded, but the expression on her face testified to the agony and pain that probably did not stop when the needle was removed.

"And now we'll give you a short break and then we'll continue exactly as you wrote in the booklet.

You write here that in all the tortures intended for paired parts such as armpits, hands, legs, breasts and hips, it is recommended to repeat the process on the corresponding part as well. The idea, as you put it so beautifully here, is that after the patient has already felt the torture on one organ and knows exactly what awaits her, her degree of anxiety about repeating the process will be much higher than the first time and this will contribute to the pleasure of the torturer.

"No!!!" A desperate scream emanated from her throat, "Enough! Don't do it to me again! You've hurt me enough. Don't continue. I'm begging you. I'll do anything you want, just stop the torture!"

As usual I'll be grateful to receive real feedback and may be some images that can illustrate the written text.

 

[jhon scot]

The Inquisition Museum – Fourth Part

"Yes, I see your prediction is coming true. I must say that I am also excited to see and hear what your reactions will be the second time around. Dr. Moon, would you like to play with our human doll as well? I think she's ready for the next step."

"Thanks, John," I told him, "I'd really love to."

I approached her and cleaned her right armpit with a cotton swab dipped in alcohol.

"No!!!!!!!!!"

I smiled with pleasure at her scream. John told me that her right armpit had five times more pain sensors than the left armpit. I waited anxiously for the sequel. Her pain this time will reach unbearable levels and we will get our full reward, as they say, with shouts, pleas, wails, sobs and screams. it will be wonderful!

Indeed, what happened while I repeated the entire process in hrt right armpit was above and beyond anything I could have expected. She didn't stop screaming and whining. My pleasure grew from moment to moment. I made sure to slow down the pace of inserting the needle and warming it up to magnify her pain. When I finally pulled the needle out of her flesh, I felt that it had been a long time since I had exhausted the pleasure of torture as much as this time.

John seems to feel just like me.

"Wow! It was a real pleasure." I told her, "You've been incredibly cooperative. What I'm going to do now is inject you with a topical pain reliever that will ease the pain in your armpits. I'd like you to recover a bit before we get to the next part."

I took a syringe with a long needle, filled it with liquid from a bottle and stuck the needle deep into the flesh of her armpit until the tip of the needle penetrated into the muscle. She moaned loudly. I pressed the plunger and injected the liquid. Then I repeated the operation in her right armpit.

The liquid did apparently cause immediate pain relief.

John looked at her with pleasure and continued, "Now that you're a little more relaxed, we can get on with the plan. But before anything else I'd like to take a look at your magnificent breasts."

He reached out and untied her bra. Her skin tingled the moment he touched her and he smiled with pleasure.

The spectacle that unfolded before our eyes was amazing. I have never seen a pair of breasts so large and yet so naturally erect. He activated the hand pulling mechanism, which caused her back to arch and her breasts to stand out even more.

He began to feel them gently as he lightly pressed the nipples and massaged the areola area. She shuddered at his touch, but could do nothing to stop him from playing with her breasts as he pleased. For a long time he felt her breasts, occasionally cupping them in his paws and lightly crushing them.

She grimaced in disgust and he laughed at that.

"Wait wait, I've just started. And now we'll see another hidden corner of your body."

He took a pair of scissors, lifted the hem of her dress and grabbed her panties.

"no no!" she moaned, "Please, don't do it."

He did not listen to her pleas. He cut off her underwear and exposed her pubic area.

"What a terrible feeling it is to be so exposed and vulnerable. I can imagine how you feel. Just thinking about what will happen to you in the next few hours gives me a feeling of unquenchable pleasure."

"No no!" she screamed. Her whole body was shaking from the intensity of the hysteria that gripped her. "You've hurt me enough. I'm begging you, don't continue. Don't do this to me."

He laughed again and at the same time thrust his fingers deep into her pubis.

"Not only do you have a magnificent chest but also a stunningly sized clitoris! I thought we'd start the next round with the amazing tool you designed and which you call the "cherry remover".

"No!!!!!" A shriek of terrible despair erupted from her throat, "No, no, don't do this to me. Just not this! Please, I'll do anything you want, just don't do it to me!"

"Oh, that's great to hear from you. I guess this is the worst of your nightmares. Here I take out the device. Let's see what you wrote down about how to use it."

"mother!!!" Her whole body trembled with terror as John took the horrible device out of the box and held it close to her face.

"It's wonderful what you can build using 3D object printing. I see you put a lot of thought into the tool. Let's see what you wrote down in the operating instructions."

He took the instructions in his hands and read aloud: "The Cherry Extractor is designed for slow displacement of the clitoris.

The clitoris is an erectile tissue with about 8,000 sensory nerve endings located in the vulva. The clitoris is visible in the part located near the area of the small lips (Labia minora), above the opening of the urethra and the opening of the vagina. The clitoris is made up of erectile and cylindrical spongy tissue. This is an organ that is mainly internal and extends into the recesses of the woman's pelvis. When the clitoris is irritated, it fills with blood, becomes puffy and swollen, and changes color.

Inside the pelvis, the upper part of the clitoris bends down and branches into a sort of two legs separate from each other, like an inverted 'V' shape. This area is called clitoral crura— legs of the clitoris". Each of these two legs is made of the same spongy and erect tissue. The inner part of the clitoris is connected to a vascular system, and to the nerves connected to the clitoral tubercles, stretching ligaments, pelvic muscles and the membrane of the pelvic floor."



At this point I felt that I could no longer continue reading the diary. Just the thought of what would probably come next made me suffocate and intensely nauseous. I skimmed over the scriptures. Miller and John described in Norma's ears the device she had designed herself. The purpose of the device was to treat the outer part of the clitoris first. The torture device was designed as a tube that was supposed to surround the sensitive organ and crush and grind using needles and teeth inserted in its interior. Miller went on to describe how John read the instructions written by Norma herself. Pressing a button located at the base of the device was supposed to cause the protrusion of a sort of two halves of a tube that were to be inserted into the vaginal wall and slide along the legs of the clitoris, which are deeply recessed in the patient's body. These moving parts were to be inserted deep into the living flesh, wrap around the legs of the clitoris and then in a slow process which was supposed to last for many minutes, dislodge the entire clitoris in all its parts from the wall of the vagina.

Miller described how much the very description of the future to happen moved him and stirred his imagination and also described Norma's hysterical reactions upon hearing these things. A woman being tortured using the tools she herself created and designed! It was indeed a diabolical idea that made my flesh tremble. I could not continue reading the scripture.

Jerry told me later that he managed to locate the movie of Norma's torture. He told me that actually witnessing what happened on the screen was many times more terrifying. It was beyond his powers, and he stopped the screening shortly after John inserted the diabolical device into her body and began to squeeze the outside of her clitoris. He confessed in my ear that it was the scariest movie of all the movies in Miller's collection and Norma's horrible screams and cries echoed in his head for weeks and gave him nightmares.

END

As usual I'll be grateful to receive real feedback and may be some images that can illustrate the written text.

 

[jurian]

Another brilliant novel of this genre:
"Castle of the Whip" by A. de Granamour (aka Paul Little, Kenneth Harding etc.)
http://www50.zippyshare.com/v/hm4nzbDa/file.html

If you know something similar, please let me know.

Link is dead, as is Zippyshare it seems.

 

[jurian]

I thought I'd posted this already, apologies if duplicate. Something I wrote some years ago.

 

[jurian]

Shoplifters – ‘unofficial’ caning

In parts of India it is not uncommon for offenders to be given an ‘off the record’ caning for minor offences. Records of the crime are then conveniently lost but a blind eye is turned as this reduces police paperwork and court time. This article, from the Old Delhi Times, is an interview with a young woman caught stealing from a market stall in an undisclosed Indian city.

Old Delhi Times: So, tell us how it all started?

Nita (name changed): I was in the market with my friend Vara (name also changed) and saw some nice fabric. My Masi (aunt) wanted to make a dress for my little cousin and the cloth was just right but I could not afford it. So while Vara distracted the stallholder I took it and slipped it into my bag.

ODT: But you got caught?

Nita: Yes, another stall-holder saw what happened, he grabbed me and when Vara tried to run away she was caught as well. Then a Constable came and took us to the Police station.

ODT: What happened there?

Nita: We were taken to the Inspector’s office and had to wait on a bench outside. There were two girls from the local Senior School waiting as well as well as a well-dressed woman who was about my Mother’s age. She went in first then came out a few minutes later and a Policewoman took her away. We were then called in.

ODT: To see the Inspector?

Nita: Yes. He told us that we had a choice. We could go to the Magistrate and possibly get a fine – which we could not afford, or perhaps go to prison for a few days.

ODT: Did that scare you?

Nita: Yes. Vara’s friend had been in prison and it was not nice, especially for a young woman.

ODT: And the choice?

Nita: The Inspector said that instead of going to the Magistrate, we could have five strokes of the cane each, at the Police station that afternoon. That would then be the end of it. No fine. No record.

ODT: So you accepted?

Nita: I did not think there was any other way. The Inspector called for the Policewoman and she took us away to another building in the police compound.

ODT: What happened there?

Nita: She opened the door and told us to go in. There was a big bare room with small windows high up and a toilet in the corner. There was another door opposite.

ODT: Was anybody else in there?

Nita: Yes. There was a woman and she was naked! I realised that it was the same woman that had been in the Inspector’s office.

ODT: Then what happened?

Nita: The Policewoman gave us a plastic bag each. She told us to get undressed and put our clothes into the bag. She said we could keep our chappal (sandals) but nothing else.

ODT: So you did as you were told.

Nita: I asked why we had to take our clothes off. She said “Cane is on bare bottom. Also Police compound is unlocked, but without clothes you cannot sneak away. You will get everything back after your punishment”.

ODT: Did you know it was bare bottom caning?

Nita: No! I was wearing salwaar chemiz (traditional long loose shirt and trouser suit) so I thought that cane would not hurt so much. Vara had saree and underskirt so she thought same thing.

ODT: So you stripped?

Nita: What else could we do? It was embarrassing. Nobody ever sees me naked, I only take clothes off to have a bath. But we stripped and put our clothes in the bags.

ODT: Then what happened?

Nita: Then the two schoolgirls came in and they had to strip to shoes and socks.
All five of us were now naked. One schoolgirl looked very tense and was whispering to the other one who pointed at the toilet. I think that the first girl wanted to use it but was ashamed to do so in front of everybody else.
After about 5 minutes the other door opened and woman wearing Inspector’s uniform came in. We were told to go through the door.

ODT: What did you find?

Nita: It was a small yard with brick walls and no roof. There was a sort of a narrow bench with a leather top in the shape of upside down V. Beside it there was another policewoman holding a lathi (type of short whip carried by police).
The Inspector lady called the older lady over to the bench. She had to lean right over it. It must have been very shameful for her as we could see all her privates. Inspector nodded to the Policewoman. She walked over to the bench, raised up the lathi then whipped it across the lady’s bottom.

ODT: How did she react?

Nita: She mad a little shriek but that was all. Inspector nodded and the policewoman whipped her again. The lady stayed quiet but I saw her body go tense. After next stroke she cried out a little bit, same for next two strokes. She was then allowed to stand up.

ODT: What next?

Nita: Now it was Vara’s turn. She was bent over the bench as well. First stroke she just gasped, second one she cried out, third one she started crying. Policewoman waited a few seconds then gave fourth stroke, Vara cried out “No more!”. Then fifth stroke and she was allowed to get up trembling and sobbing. She came over to me and I pulled her close to comfort me. It was very strange to be naked and hugging another naked woman.

ODT: And then?

Nita: It was the turn of the school girl, the one who had been looking at toilet. She was bent over the bench, at first stroke she cried out, at second stroke – well that girl should have gone to toilet.

ODT: What happened?

Nita: She wet herself. First big jet of pee splashed on the ground, nearly wet the policewoman’s shoes, then rest of it ran down her legs.

ODT: Was she allowed to get up or clean up?

Nita: No. Police did not seem bothered, perhaps it happens often. They just waited until she had finished and then gave last three strokes. She did not make much noise, I think she was more shocked at wetting herself in front of everybody. She was not given cloth or towel and had to wait with legs all wet.

ODT: Please carry on.

Nita: Now it was the turn of the other schoolgirl. She bent over the bench but after first stroke she stood up again rubbing her bottom. Policewoman told her to bend over again but she was crying and refusing. The Inspector and Policewoman grabbed her, put handcuffs on her behind her back then bent her over the bench again. The Inspector held her shoulders down while the strokes were given. She screamed every time, it was terrible noise. When she got up she just walked about sobbing and rubbing her bottom.

ODT: Now it was your turn?

Nita: Yes, I think that going last was the worst. I bent over the bench and it felt so shameful as everybody could see my bottom and my private parts. I was all tense, I did not know when the first lash was coming. The first one startled me but not so painful as I expected. Then second one came right in the same place, very painful but I still kept quite. Third one though, was too much, and I just screamed out. I was panting and could hardly breath. I tried to stand up but policewoman just pushed me back over the bench. Fourth one was not as hard as the others, then after that the policewoman was whispering to the Inspector and I hoped it was over.

ODT: and was it?

Nita: No, I had start to relaxed then last lash came. I screamed out and tried not to cry. Then the policewoman tapped me shoulder and told me to get up.

ODT: Then what happened?

Nita: We were sent back inside again. Vara and one of the schoolgirls were still sobbing. Vara and I gave each other a hug. After that we had to wait for about five minutes, still in the nude, before another policewoman came back with our clothes. We were then allowed to get dressed and go home.

ODT: Would you ever go stealing again?

Nita: (laughs) – Oh no, I have learned my lesson.

 

[jhon scot]

Medical treatment II (Vaginal fungus) – First Part

From Miller's Diary
Christine. The mere mention of her name is enough to give me an erotic thrill. Following the medical treatment I gave to Janet, it occurred to me to initiate additional medical treatments for the women employed in my company. I chose her from several possible candidates and the choice turned out to be a particularly successful one. Like Janet, she came to the medical institute for a standard gynecological examination. I scanned her mind while she waited her turn. She underwent a routine examination by a gynecologist and was released to her home after an hour.

When her genetic copy entered the treatment room, I introduced myself as a gynecologist and asked her if she had any objection to being examined by a male doctor. She showed no objection. John made sure in advance to inject a certain amount of fungus into her vagina that would cause her to feel irritation and tingling in her vagina.

I checked her blood pressure and asked her if she had any gynecological problems.

She thought for a moment and replied: "Doctor, this is very strange. Until now I had no special complaints. I came for a routine examination, but now for some reason I feel a little tingling down in the vagina. Maybe it's because of the examination itself, although I'm usually not excited by gynecological examinations."

"No problem. We'll look into it right away."

I invited her to go behind the curtain, take off her dress and panties and sit on the gynecological chair.

She did as I said, took off her pants and underwear, put on the open gown and sat down in the chair.

"You may have a fungus infection. It sometimes happens regardless of intercourse and many times it appears suddenly. I will insert a spatula into your vagina and scrape the vaginal wall a little to take cells for a sample. This is a routine painless test. Immediately afterwards I will check the sample and I will be able to know if there are any vaginal infections. This will take less than a minute, and if all is well, I'll let you go home.

She nodded her head in agreement. I took the sample and put it in the diagnostic device.

"Stay seated. I'll have a result in a moment."

She obeyed me and continued to sit on the chair.

"Well." I said after doing myself a look at the results. "It turns out that you have a fungus, a particularly stubborn type of fungus that requires treatment. If it is not treated immediately, it may cause you trouble in the future. I suggest we take care of it right away."

"What kind of treatment?"

"First I will scrape the walls of the vagina with a fine brush and then I will inject you with an antifungal agent that will rid you once and for all of any further infection. There are also other less effective treatment methods that require a series of repeated treatments. The decision is yours."

"I'd rather get it over with now and not drag it out."

"Whatever you say. I'm just asking you to sign a consent form for this particular treatment. I also have to tell you for the record that once you've signed the consent form and entered the treatment room, you won't be able to stop the treatment in the middle."

She nodded her head in agreement and signed the form I handed her.

"The treatment may be somewhat painful. If you regret it, you can always ask to stop the treatment in the middle, but the decision whether to comply with the request is at my discretion." I added and smiled at her.

"Yes. No problem. Can you explain to me a little more what kind of treatment it is?"

"You'll see right away." I said, but first I must take preliminary action. Please put both hands on the two armrests."

She obeyed me and did as I said.

I pressed the capture button, and the capture straps wrapped around her wrists, hips, and calves.

She was socked. "What are you doing? Why are you tying me up?!"

"Relax. This is just to ensure that you don't try to release yourself in the middle of the treatment.

Like Janet she protested vigorously. I presented her with the document that she signed and where it was stated that the doctor is allowed to take the necessary measures so that the treatment is not stopped in the middle. I will not describe her responses in detail here. In any case, she was much more hysterical and fearful in her reactions than Janet.

"I'll move you now to the other soundproof room, so that if you scream or shout, the screams won't be heard outside. The treatment might be, as I said, a bit painful."

I moved the chair and brought her to the soundproof treatment room. On the nearby table was a transparent model of a woman's body and the treatment accessories.

I took the electric brush and showed it to her. "This is a brush designed to rub the mucous membrane of the vagina and mechanically remove as many fungi as possible from it. I brought the device, which looked like a thick handle with electrical wires dangling from it. I plugged it into the electrical outlet. And I pressed the power button. From the device came a buzzing sound similar to that of a dental drill. I brought the handle closer to the model's vulva opening and pressed the second button. The buzzing sound grew louder and a ten-centimeter-long brush emerged from the handle, and began to move back and forth in a steady motion. I brought the brush closer to the model's vulva. The brush moves back and forth inside the transparent model.

"One can increase and slow down the rate of penetration of the brush in the range between one penetration per second and up to twenty penetrations per second. Here, look." I explained to her.

She looked at me with ghastliness.

I pressed another button. The humming rate increased and the brush began to rotate on a pivot while moving back and forth.

"The rate of rotation can also be controlled from one round per second to a fast rate of twenty rounds per second." I went on and explained to her.

Kristin went pale, and I continued to explain: "In a moment I will insert the brush into your vagina and rotate it at a speed of half a turn per second. It will hurt a little. Allow yourself to scream if it makes it easier for you."

"No, no. I don't agree! You can't do this to me!"

"I'm sorry." I said, "This is a necessary step. The sequel I'm afraid will be much more painful. Be brave. You're not the first to receive the treatment.

I took the brush out of the model and brought it closer to her vulva. She screamed hysterically "No, no. Don't do this to me!"

Her pleas woke me up. I activated the motion mechanism. The brush penetrated into her vagina, and she moaned in pain. I pressed the power button and the brush started spinning inside her vagina. She started screaming: "Aiy! It hurts! Stop!"

"Yes." I agreed, "It's not an easy treatment, but it is necessary. I will now increase the rate of rotation to two rounds per second and will increase the rate of movement." I increased the speed of the rotation and came to my pay with sharp screams: "Mom! Aiy! It hurts! Don't do it to me. It hurts!"

"It will only take a few more minutes. I'm already finishing and taking it out. The continuation, as I said, will unfortunately be a little more painful."

I continued to spin the brush for another five minutes and then stopped the spin and pulled the tool out of her vagina. Drops of blood dripped from the opening of the vagina and washed into the bowl below it.

"Don't worry. It's a natural reaction. Later, if the blood flow increases, we will take measures to stop it."

I presented her with the second tool, a thick transparent tube with a diameter of three and a half centimeters that looked like a huge penis "You can see that along the entire length of the tool there are needles held by small springs that end in plates. I will insert the tool into your vagina and then insert a kind of piston with holes into it that will press the plates and force the needles to penetrate four mm deep into the walls of the vagina. Yes. This will be much more painful than the previous procedure. We have to inject substances into the walls of the vagina that will damage the cells of the fungus and destroy it."

I demonstrated to her the insertion of the tube into the model's transparent vagina and pushed the plunger into it. The needles emerged one by one from the tube and stuck in the walls of the model's vagina.

She watched the process in horror. "No. No. You've hurt me enough. I don't agree!"

"Sorry. You can't stop the treatment in the middle. I know how painful it is, but it's necessary. You can scream and shout. The room is sealed and no one will hear you outside."

I brought the dreaded tube closer to her vulva and began to slowly push it into her vagina. She screamed with all her might, and I reveled in her agony. When I inserted the plunger and the needles stuck into the walls of her vagina, her screams increased. She cried and sobbed. Her distorted face showed her pain. Her gown opened wide and her chest rose and fell and danced her breasts.

"And now we get to the really painful part." I said, "Injecting the antiseptic liquid. You will feel intense pain and an unbearable burning sensation, but there is nothing you can do. This is a strong substance that will kill the fungus once and for all. Get ready. It won't be easy."

I pushed a bag of greenish liquid into the hollow piston cavity and then screwed on the piston designed to pressurize the bag and cause it to explode so that the liquid inside would spray under pressure through the needles. I started turning the piston. The bag exploded and the grewsome liquid was compressed inside the needles and penetrated the walls of her vagina. I knew what would happen now, but I didn't expect the effect to be so dramatic.

"Aiy! Aiy! I'm burning! It hurts! It's burning! I can't! Stop. Get it out! It hurts!"

She didn't stop screaming for a moment. Her face contorted. Her whole body shook with a convulsion. Her breasts danced. She tried in vain to disconnect the straps. I felt immense pleasure at the sight of her agony.

I pulled the horrible tool out of her vagina and cleaned the drops of blood that fell from her with gauze. Then I said to her: "I'm very sorry that I had to hurt you so much. This is a once-in-a-lifetime treatment and from now on no fungus will be able to bother you. The truth is that this is the first time I'm giving such a treatment. I didn't imagine it would be so painful. I tried to be as gentle as possible. In just a moment, I will release you, and you can return to your home, I just want to call my supervisor, Dr. Jones, here so that he can approve the treatment and allow me to send you home. It won't take long."

An expression of relief came over her face. She just continued to sob quietly from the intensity of her pain. I left the room and a moment later I came back in the company of my friend John. In his white coat and thick-rimmed glasses, he really looked like a stern doctor.

"Please meet Dr. Jones. He will check what I have done and approve, I hope, your release."

I showed him the brush I used to scrape the vaginal walls and the injection device I used.

"I'm afraid," he told me, "That you haven't used the right brush." He went to the drawer and pulled out a thicker brush with stiff bristles almost twenty centimeters long that looked much more dreaded and gruesome than the brush I was using. "You should have used this brush. How fast do you spin the brush?"

"One turn for a second and then I increased to two turns. I settled for seven minutes."

Dr. Jones shook his head: “Not good, not good. You should have used that brush and rotated it at a rate of ten to fifteen revolutions per second and at a similar rate of penetration for at least fifteen minutes!"

[to be continued]

As usual I'll be grateful to receive real feedback and may be some images that can illustrate the written text, or at least some explanations how to reduce the size of the original images that I would like lo upload and change to the original size when one presses the small image.
Thank you.