Rites of Passage · Part 2 (2/2)
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The second man knelt, grasped the hem of her dress and raised the scissors into position. Our host stepped around behind the girl, facing the front of her body, reached around her torso as if to hug her, cupped her buttocks in both hands, lifted and spread her cheeks, and pulled her tightly to his body. Although the fabric of her dress still covered her bottom, the effect was nearly electric as he momentarily lifted her bound feet off the floor, raising her. I imagine it offered a brief respite to her bound wrists, as he held her only a small distance off the floor, but there must have been some feeling as her butt cheeks were spread and held apart as she was held there.
“How nice it is to think of her little puckered hole exposed like this, How cool it must feel as the cold air touches her forbidden zone…..”, he droned on, almost as if it were scripted and he had repeated it before.
“See how she accepts it….. See how she accepts being spread….. What more need be said. She will take it there if I want her to.”
He lowered her back onto the balls of her feet, and the second man started snipping away at the bottom of her dress with the scissors. A straight line up the back of the dress, from bottom to top, revealing the back of her legs from her taped ankles up to her buttocks where he pauses. Our host, who still is holding her by her buttocks, releases them, grasps the fabric of the dress and pulls the two sides apart, rending the fabric to her waist, and revealing the white panties underneath. Our second man cuts the waist belt and the remnant of the dress falls to the floor. The girl stands before us with her back to us, revealed in nothing more than white bra and panties, and those strappy white shoes.
Our host once again takes her by the waist and rotates her back to her original position. Allowing us a full view of her nearly naked body, stretched and held helplessly in place as she is. Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful! I think to myself there is nothing so beautiful as a woman who is helplessly bound and gagged. Sex doesn’t even enter into it. It’s the power. It’s the control. It’s the submission! And it must be wonderful to have pointy-shaped titties that stick out like that!!! I almost wish it were me up there! But while I was spacing out on my own thoughts, the next phase of her humiliation was approaching.
The man with the scissors was now behind her, and preparing to snip away the bra, defining and framing her pert, pointy breasts. Snip, one shoulder strap. Snip, the second shoulder strap! Standing behind her, he slips his fingers under the third and last strap holding the bra to her body. It’s now a question of whether her bra is holding up her breasts, or her breasts are holding up her bra! The suspense is deafening to mix metaphors.
Snip! And the bra drops to the floor!
Her breasts don’t move!
They continue to point straight forward and continue to hold their beautiful cone shape, with lovely little nipples at each end. It must be that her chest muscles being pulled upward by her tied hands over her head, the breasts are being held in that perfect, pointy position. Whatever it is – or was – they were perfect! So enticing….. So beautiful….. So exciting!
I can’t help it. Mr. P is fighting now. He wants out of my trousers. I had to move about a bit to give him some wiggle room! And I notice that some others are having the same problem.
Now she stands there, stretched to her limit, with everything gone except her white panties and white shoes. A sight to behold! And I can see her visibly, silently, sobbing into her gag. She’s only a step away from total humiliation being fully exposed in front of a crowd of “Joe’s” who are looking on and enjoying her nakedness! Yet, I imagine she knows she isn’t done yet. She knows she’s going to be whipped as punishment for her stealing! She’s wondering how much more she can endure! She knows it’s going to happen, and wonders how much more she can take? How much more she’ll HAVE to take!
Our host is running his hands up and down her body again. And with the breasts fully exposed now, has taken the opportunity to pay attention by squeezing and painfully twisting the girl’s tits back and forth. It reminded me of an old joke where a woman says to her boyfriend, “For God’s sake, squeeze, don’t twist, they aren’t doorknobs!” As he twists hard, you can hear her muffled protests at the pain he’s causing her at each end of the rotation. He’s twisting so hard it’s obvious she would be screaming at the extreme end of each twist.
As he pays attention now to her nipples, he squeezes AND twists. She throws her head back as far as she can, and is screaming in pain behind her gag! To no avail, he is determined to hurt her! It doesn’t last too long., but it was long enough for Mr. P to react in my shorts. You can’t call it premature, since this whole show has been going on for about ten minutes or so, but my shorts are wet as I cum within them. Using her tits as handles, our host turns her sideways again, and I realize that I don’t even know this girl’s name, yet I have just had the most satisfying experience of my young life. Even better than the self-abuse my dad told me about.
Suddenly stopping, he reaches around from behind, takes a breast in each hand and squeezes hard while pulling them apart as far as he can. Meanwhile, “Mister Scissors” starts on the panties! First one leg, then the other, he starts at the elastic hem at the top of each leg and cuts upward, to a point just under the waistband, then stops. The effect is that the panties are in shreds, hanging from the waistband elastic. Our host releases one breast, takes hold of the panties at mid-waist level, just under the girl’s navel, and pulls outward, ripping the panties away from her body. The ripped fabric slides out from between her legs, revealing her most private areas.
She has a full thatch of brown genital hair, as is the custom of women of that era. Our host spins her around allowing us to see the lovely curve of her hips, and the crack of her ass, along with the beauty of her naked butt. I cum again at seeing her fully naked, and imagining having her sexually.
Meanwhile, our host uses his grip on one breast to turn her sideways again, and pushes the fingers of his free hand between her legs from the front as before, releases her breast and pushes the fingers of his now free hand between her legs from the back, and it’s obvious he’s feeling around down there.
He smiles and says, “Yes, she’s a virgin!” He rotates her slowly, so everyone can see that he’s actually got his fingers into her, and is feeling around. She must be totally humiliated!
“Up”, he commands.
The third man, who was holding the rope before, pulls on it, raising the girl’s feet totally off the floor. She is now totally suspended, and her tied wrists are holding all her weight. It must be quite painful as she begins gasping for air and screaming into her gag. Our host steps back and just lets her twist, trying to find a surface on which to stand. Placing a hand on one hip, he gives her a push, and she swings back and forth like a human pendulum on an antique clock.
“Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…”, he exclaims, emphasizing the point that she’s totally suspended now, and swinging free.
It’s almost painful to watch. Yet fascinating to watch what’s being done to her! How she’s taking it, and how she’s ABLE to take it! I’d read about girls who like to be spanked, but that sounded a lot like porno fiction, and nothing like this! So far this is WAY beyond spanking, and presumably there was a lot more to come!
And I was right ….. There WAS a lot more to come!
Mr. Scissors was back.
Nobody had been paying attention to him after he had cut the final fabric of her panties, and he suddenly reappeared carrying an assortment of whips, crops, paddles, and a cat-o-nine-tails. It was obvious what they were for….. She was going to be whipped! It was the main event, after all. It was the function of the evening. The question now became, for how much, and for how long! How badly was our victim going to be whipped? (I’d begun to think of her as a nameless victim – of someone who might have been kidnapped, who was being tortured, either into submission, or to reveal some state secret.)
I don’t know whether it was empathy, or a shifting of the masculine mind that was leading me to empathize with the victim – this poor girl who was being mistreated, humiliated, hurt, and only moments away from some real pain. But I watched in rapt attention as Scissors put these implements on the side table, and as our host stopped the girl’s swinging, and forced her head forward so she could see what was happening in front of her.
Still gagged, and still hanging suspended, she suddenly realized it was time for the whipping. Her eyes grew large in fear, and she began shaking her head in protest. Our host tried, unsuccessfully, to make her look straight forward by holding her by the hair and pushing her head between her upstretched arms, to no avail. She was already crying, with a combination of moaning and pleading sounds. Sounds that told you she didn’t want to go through this – that she’d never steal anything again if only they’d let her go.
Scissors picked up a long switch, sort of like an old carriage whip, and swished it through the air in front of the poor girl, where it made a swishing sound. Although it never stuck her, she whined and tried to twist away as if it had. She was audibly crying behind her gag. In response, our host loosened the strap holding the gag in her mouth, and I thought he was going to remove it. But no, in fact, he tightened it another notch, pulling the ball further into her mouth, and stifling her sounds even more.
Scissors nodded to the host who took a step backward, while still holding the girl by the hair, forcing her to watch what was going to happen, Scissors swished the whip a couple more times in front of the girl where she could see it, then drew his arm back, and swung the whip at her body, striking her hard and fully across both breasts. Her scream of pain could only be described as a blood-curdling scream! And as he stepped back so all could see, an angry red welt appeared across the girl's breasts. She gasped again for air, and let out a second scream, if anything, louder than the first.
Despite being held by the hair, her body jerked from the blow. She twisted, and kicked out, trying to escape another blow. As the red welt across her chest darkened, it was obvious that she wouldn’t be able to take many of those. While the girl openly cried while gasping for air through her gag and nose, Scissors virtually pranced around the stage, swinging his whip up and down, and waving it in front of her, for at least a full minute. Now a minute may seem like a long time if nothing is happening, having a man with a whip, waving it in front of you just after delivering the kind of blow you’d probably never felt before, could have been an incredibly painful experience. And while we all knew she was going to be whipped again, none of us knew how much, or where the blow would be struck.
As the minute of prancing ended, Scissors took a position at the girl’s right side, and waved the whip back and forth, leading to the conclusion that the girl was going to be struck across the breasts a second time. But swish, the second blow struck her fully across the belly. Of course it left another red welt where it had struck her flesh! As she screamed again, it was evident that she was in for a serious and painful beating!
Her feet kicked forward involuntarily in a reaction to the blow, but struck nothing more than thin air as Scissors pranced about the stage a second time.
The host spun her around again so her backside was facing the audience, pulled her into a hugging position and held her tight. Scissors brought down a third blow across the swell of her bare buttocks, leaving a third red welt across both globes. The blow caused her to jerk forward into the host who was already holding her tight, and no doubt caused some sexual reaction from him, as it was to me. I think I counted a third ejaculation into my shorts as my prostrate jerked in response. It was amazing. I was ejaculating with no direct, physical stimulation of Mr. P. That had never happened before.
Quick blows across the top of the girl’s thighs left ugly red marks, screams, and body jerks as she was holding onto consciousness for dear life, trying not to pass out from the pain. I was empathizing with the pain the girl felt and cumming at the same time. Mr. Scissors had enough with the switch, apparently. He put it down on the side table, and picked up a relatively short riding crop – maybe 18 inches long or so, with a wicked looking piece of leather tail attached to the end. I assumed the punishment was due for a change, and remembered wondering how much pain was going to be administered by that little tail of leather as it struck her body.
And while Scissors was swishing it around for effect, the girl was spun around again so the front of her body faced the audience, and she was held tightly in position by the host. It was obvious that Scissors was going to whip the front of her body again, using the riding crop this time. Her head was pulled back by the hair again, forcing her to look at the ceiling. Her breasts were forced forward again as her back arched from the pressure of her hair being pulled back. The dark red welts had already formed across her breasts, and I remember wondering how long it would take for the welts to go away or if they would be permanent markings of her treatment.
As I wondered, my attention was diverted for a moment, and I failed to see the first blow with the riding crop, but I quickly brought my attention back to the punishment, and caught the jerk of her body and the wail of pain that escaped from her throat. It was apparent that he had struck her across the rib cage, just under both breasts, and the trickle of blood down the side of her body attested to the fact that the little leather tail on the end of the crop could do some serious damage! He had not drawn blood before!
Quickly he struck blow after blow across her body, in a descending staircase of blows from just below the breasts, across her belly, to the junction where the hips meet the torso, where her pussy lies. The blows were stuck quickly, and none, other than the first, appeared to permanently mark her skin or draw blood. They seemed more designed to inflict a large area of pain than to create damage. Her body continued to jerk as each blow struck home, and her scream was reduced to a constant wail of pain, coming from deep within her and escaping through the muffle that had been forced into her mouth. Her eyes seemed as if they had rolled up into her head, and all you could see was the white of empty eyeballs. Somewhere, she was lost in the pain of the moment, or had been driven to near unconsciousness.
Having enough of his frontal assault, Scissors tossed his riding crop onto the table and picked up the cat. It appeared to be made of a wooden handle, attached to strips of suede leather, each about a half-inch wide. He dipped the suede strips in a jar of water, letting the strips soak up some water. (For those who don’t know, this makes the suede strips heavier, and blows become more serious and painful to the victim.) Meanwhile, our host had spun the girl around again so her back was now facing the audience. It was apparent that she was going to get the tradition cat-o-nine-tails beating across the back, and perhaps the buttocks.
I was wrong.
Mr. Scissors started at the nape of the neck, and proceeded down the back, across the buttocks, and down the thighs to just above the knees. By the time he had reached her waist, her body had stopped jerking from the force of the blows, she had fallen silent, and had obviously passed out. It was a moment of release for the audience who had virtually felt every blow she had taken for a long time. But Scissors, determined to finish his task, dowsed her with water from the soaking jar, and when she responded to the pain once again, finished his task of whipping her complete backside. Our host had a few words to say, our nameless victim was lowered to the floor, untied and ungagged. She was helped off the stage, still nude, wet, and beaten, and led through the door where she was brought in.
A SECOND ENDING As they were lowering her to the stage, and untying and covering her body, our host droned on…..
“……. And this performance of the Barrio Performance Theater featured Maria Rodriguez as the victim, with Mike Ruiz as your host. Maria will repeat this performance next month. Stop at the entrance on your way out for a list of dates and performances by our many other cast members.”
No matter. I was forever affected by the performance, and all my fantasies for a lifetime have been tinged with the thoughts of punishing women and being the woman being punished at the same time.
Rites of Passage · Part 2 (2/2)
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