Tales of the Rope

Chapter 19: Punishment of a Bad Girl

Chapter 19: Punishment of a Bad Girl

The whip sang a song of bittersweet revenge, hissing through the air then cracking against soft female flesh. A muffled cry of anguish echoed off the cement walls followed by a long, low moan of distress. The man holding the whip sucked in air and lifted his arm yet again.

The female was naked and held in place by ropes tightly tied around her limbs. Thin cord bit deeply into the flesh of her wrists and above her elbows, crushing her forearms together behind her back. A rope from the wrist bondage went up to a large metal ring firmly screwed into an overhead beam of the basement room. That rope had been pulled until the nineteen year old girl had been forced to bend forward. And then it was pulled some more, cruelly wrenching her arms upward and driving her head down. Her legs were tightly bound together at the ankles and above the knees, the thin cord so deeply into the flesh of her thighs that it almost disappeared. Those painfully tight ropes alone would have caused the girl to suffer agony but again the whip sang and again she cried out into the large rubber ball that had been forced into her mouth and strapped in place.

The girl was young but the body was full and ripe, the breasts very large and the bottom a full, curved target. Already that ass was crisscrossed with scarlet stripes slowly turning purple, blue and black shades. Her long dark hair hung around her head, hiding the tear-stained young and pretty face.

Again the whip sang and the teenage girl cried out in agony, this time almost a scream of unbearable torment.

The middle-aged man had lost count around twenty strokes, but it didn’t matter. The limit of this torture would be when his anger ran its course and his arm grew too tired to lift the whip. Again the wicked length of braided leather swished the air to deliver its venom.

strokes later, the whip fell from his fingers to the concrete floor and, with a deep intake of breath, the man walked from the basement room. Under the harsh light from the single, naked light bulb, the girl sobbed out her pain and wished she could touch

tight ropes so that she was immobile. Immobile and in pain. The girl’s arms had been bound behind her back in the same manner as the girl in the basement but with clothesline, not the thin cord. But her elbows were forced together in the same way. Her legs had also been bound together at the ankles and above the knees, again with clothesline. Another rope linked her wrist and ankle bondage, forcing the heels of her feet into the open palms of her hands. But the real discomfort had come when another rope was passed around that on

of a body bent backwards and almost lifted by its wrists

conversationally. The girl on the bed tried to plead with her eyes. “She will continue to pay for a

tried to shake her head but that was also ignored. He continued as if he were discussing baseball scores over breakfast. “I know you’re really a good girl. You wouldn’t have had those drugs if someone

before. “And I’m glad,” he continued, “that you saw

a full hour of agonizing bondage in this hogtie before his daughter had blurted out the name of her girlfriend and supplier. And another half hour before she agreed to

use as whips. And remembered a real whip that had been in a cardboard box for many years. He didn’t even remember where he had gotten it, but it would serve a good purpose that night. He dug around until he found it. It was made of black leather thongs with one at the end of stiff leather. It would do more than sting,

Quickly her arms were bound behind her back and stung up to the beam. Her clothes were

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