THE GANTRY
While Su-Cheng suffered her fate at Moline’s hands,
events had moved quickly for Katrin Opava. The witch-woman, Lola-Kim, had forced her, still
naked and bound, into the lift, down below to the basement of the old house,
and pushed her out into the dimly lit chamber.
There, right in front of her horrified eyes, the naked
bodies of the three girls, Jenny, Pippa and Rosaline, hung from their wrists in
a row, suspended from the gantry above, held taut and immovable by weights
attached to their ankles. Katrin, her eyes wide with
terror, cried out, but the sound of her cry lost itself in the gag of her own
panties packed tightly into her mouth. In any case the witch-woman wasn’t
listening. Together with another woman, a Chinese girl called Tien-Lin, she
threw her helpless prisoner onto her face on the cold stone floor, and knelt on
her back, squashing her belly and breasts against the hard ground. Katrin twisted and strained her body, but she could do
nothing against her tormentresses. The Chinese girl
began rapidly to rearrange and tighten her bonds.
Katrin’s legs were fastened
together above and below the knee and at her ankles, Tien-Lin’s nimble fingers
cinching the bonds tightly so that the ropes dug cruelly into the thighs and
calves. Unlocking her wrist manacles, she jerked the helpless dark-haired
girl’s arms above her head and rebound them with rope at her wrists. Katrin protested, twisting her body and jerking her muscles
in spasms of sudden strength. Once she nearly unbalanced Lola-Kim, but only
caused the witch- woman to crush her bruised breasts still harder against the ungiving stone floor with her red-booted knees. From her
position, her head between her arms, Katrin could
just see the Chinese girl taking a rope that dangled from the gantry next to
the third suspended girl, and a moment later it was looped to her new wrist
bonds. She shook her head, moaning into her gag, pleading for them to stop. The
two women here talking, the witch-woman insisting that one of the ropes be
tightened still further. Then they left her.
The three girls hung motionless as before, their eyes
flickering open, watching the scene hopelessly, gagged and unable to speak. Beside
them the two tormentresses were hauling on the end of
the rope, which ran smoothly up through a wheel in the gantry and down to Katrin’s wrists. The helplesssly
bound girl’s arms straightened and her body dragged along the floor. Her mind
was racing, her tummy cold with fear. There could be no doubt that these two
evil bitches intended to do to her what they had done to the three others
hanging there. Their soft bodies, pale pink in the dim light, were
criss-crossed with red welts and stripes. They had been beaten, and now it was
her turn. She cried out, her voice loud in spite of the gag, causing the two
bitches to laugh. Her body slipped along the ground towards the gantry.
The rope pulled her across the cold hard floor, forward
and upward. She swung round from her wrists. Her body was soon pulled half off
the floor so that her bottom was sitting on the cold stone. She shook her head
and tossed her tousled hair, begging for help. She stared wildly round. The Chinese
girl had now taken off her top and exposed her breasts. The muscles of the two
women were taut, hauling on the rope. The pressure on Katrin’s
wrists increased and the rope shortened, pulling her bottom off the floor. Her
arms straightened each side of her head, pressed against her ears. Her head
fell forward. Her legs straightened until she was on tip-toe. She cried out
behind her gag, cried out for them to stop, and then her bare toes left the
ground and all the strain was on her wrists. Her body span slowly and
helplessly on the rope.
The two women lifted her higher off the floor. She kicked
her legs. She could only move them together. They felt odd, joined together
like a snake or a mermaid, bound by the ropes around her ankles and her knees. She
looked down at her body. Her breasts stood out. They were obvious, vulnerable. There
were whip- marks on them. Her nipples were tight and firm. Her belly was taut,
and the swell of her pussy-mound showed, thick with its bush of brown hair. She
looked down at the two women. Her eyes pleaded.
Now she hung beside the other girls, the four of them,
naked, suspended, their bare flesh glowing in the pale light, their breasts in
a row of breasts, their hips and legs curving and feminine. The Chinese girl
caught her bucking, kicking legs in her hands and began to tie yet more rope
around her ankles. She tried to kick her legs away, but the woman’s grasp was
firm. She took the rope she had tied and ran the free end through a ring in the
floor, set directly below where Katrin hung. She
pulled it tight, tautening Katrin’s body, stretching
her to her limit and fixing her there.
Her body hung high off the ground for the second time
today. Now her wrists felt the pressure, the weight of her body. She wanted to
cry out, but the sound was muffled by the gag she wore. The witch-woman stood
in front of her. Her body was developed, bronzed, strong, naked
except for her long red boots, the tiny red thong around her hips and between
her legs. Her blonde hair was fluffed up, thick and heavy. In her hand she held
a long, green bamboo rod. The Chinese girl came and stood beside her. She too
carried a long bamboo rod.
The witch-woman wore a smile of artful pleasure on her
angular, beautiful face. Her eyes were half-hooded. She reached out and touched
Katrin’s naked body. Katrin
flinched away, but her bonds held her firm to Lola-Kim’s touch. She gripped the
suspended girl’s breasts and ran her sharp fingernails along the lines of the
whip-marks. She smoothed her hands down over the slender body, the widening of
the hips. ‘Now, my little trussed chicken,’ she said, ‘I’ve had my fun with
your pretty tits. But this whipping you’re about to get is a serious whipping. Your
training begins here.’ She looked up into Katrin’s
eyes with an expression of harsh sincerity on her face. ‘You have to learn
who’s boss when you’re a slave-girl, a little nobody. This is the first of many
whippings you’ll get in the Princess’s service. We have to beat the
self-esteem, the selfishness out of you. It takes time, but we always win,
however long it takes.’
Katrin felt the evil hands
tracing the line of her groin, stroking the brown hair on her pussy. She tried
to twist away, jerking against her bonds.
The two women exchanged a glance. The Chinese girl,
Tien-Lin, moved away behind the line of suspended girls, out of Katrin’s sight. The hanging girl followed her as far as she
could with her eyes, her head immovable between her stretched upper arms. Then
the rod in Lola-Kim’s hand whooped through the air and a sudden line of fire
struck Katrin across the top of her thighs. Lola-Kim
had aimed the rod where the swell of her pussy-mound rose from between her
thighs. It struck her there at the point of the vee
of her mound. Katrin screamed into her gag, flinching
backwards in spite of the ropes. Instantly the Chinese girl struck her from
behind, cracking her bamboo upwards against the soft half-moons of her
buttocks. Katrin swung herself round to avoid the
smack of the rods, her head falling back through her arms, her hair hanging
thick and heavy down her back.
Lola-Kim struck again across the white round target of
her belly. The Chinese girl struck too, against the back of her thighs. Again
Lola-Kim’s rod sang through the air and another line of red crossed Katrin’s soft belly, at an angle to the first, followed by
Tien-Lin’s rod, viciously downwards against the prominent swell of Katrin’s bottom. Katrin’s eyes,
dry till now, filled with tears that ran down her face and dripped onto her
breasts. She cried out but her mouth was full of gag. Her eyes pleaded.
Now Lola-Kim, her face set in a fanatical smile of
excitement, traded blow for blow with the Chinese girl. The rods fell together,
striking Katrin’s naked, defenceless body at front
and rear, her bottom and her belly, her back and her breasts, her thighs. The
two women grunted with the effort each time they struck. Katrin’s
howls were loud through her soft gag, half dislodged, soggy and mouth-filling. The
writhing of her body each time the rods smacked against her bare flesh made the
gantry ring. Elsewhere in the room other Chinese girls, scantily dressed,
busied themselves preparing strange pieces of equipment, unconcerned at her
distress, unheeding her cries.
They were not coming to her help, these girls. No- one
was coming to her help. No-one had come to the aid of the three girls hanging
forlorn and naked next to her. The stripes on their bodies told that story
clearly. Her companions on the gantry looked towards her and cried for
themselves. Stretched and suspended, nude and helpless, blonde and brunette,
they looked on, and watched.
Lola-Kim, the witch-woman, attended again to Katrin’s breasts, swinging the green bamboo first against
one and then the other, catching the soft, bouncing flesh under the swell of
the tender mounds, then down against the upper curves, snapping the rod into
the flesh, embedding it, flattening the pretty breasts against her chest,
stinging the raised nipples.
Katrin shook her head,
begging them with tear- filled eyes to stop. Her body was shaking with terror. She
could not understand what they were doing. They seemed to enjoy hitting her,
that seemed to be the reason. That monster, who had fucked her bottom in the
sun-lounge, he had hit her too. She wondered where she had come to — who was
the Princess?
Still they did not stop. The big blonde woman, a fixed
smile of cruel pleasure on her face, smacked the rod home on her pussy-mound
again. Each time the Chinese girl struck her back, her bottom, her thighs, she
flinched forwards. At that moment the witch-woman would strike the exposed
front of her hips, causing her to buckle up against the tautness of her bonds,
bringing her back into the path of the Chinese girl’s rod behind her.
And then the blonde, her body shiny with perspiration,
her legs parted, her muscles tense, swung the rod upwards, skimming the front
of Katrin’s thighs and striking her at the swell of
her pussy-mound, splintered the green bamboo rod with the force of the blow.
She stood back, looking at the broken weapon in her hand,
laughing. The Chinese girl stopped too and walked round to the front of the
suspended girl and compared her own broken rod with that of her mistress. She
giggled, her hand in front of her mouth, pleased with herself. Katrin’s eyes closed, her head falling back, her poor,
vulnerable body squirming in its bonds.
‘There, Katrin,’ said the
blonde woman, not unkindly, ‘that was the first of many. Soon you’ll learn. You’re
in training now, a slut in the service of the Princess. Soon you’ll be begging
to be her slave. Think about it. How helpless you are. How helpless you all
are!’
They left her, the blonde woman and the Chinese girl. They
walked away, leaving her to hang shivering with fear and torment and shame,
beside her companions. A little later two other Chinese girls came over. Between
them they carried a weight, struggling with it. They inserted a loop of metal
into the ropes that bound Katrin’s ankles, a loop of
metal from which dangled a short chain. And then, with an effort, they lifted
the weight and attached it to the chain. Then they too walked away.
Katrin moaned into her
mouth-stuffing panty-gag. The strain on her arms, already more than she could
bear, doubled. She looked down at her body, at the stripes of red across her
breasts, across her belly, across her thighs. She looked down at the two broken
lengths of green bamboo discarded on the ground beneath her. The tears dripped
from her cheeks to the upper curves of her breasts and ran down to hang as
little shiny droplets on her nipples.