Shameful Reckonings (20 page)

It was quick and brutal. Each man took her in turn, pounding her hard and fast, intent only on his own pleasure. Sigrid groaned and struggled throughout her ordeal. She was still sore from the rapes after her flogging, and the rough use gave her no pleasure at all, only more pain. When they were finished, they left her lying on the mat, dazed and hurting. She heard her cell door clang shut. It was the last thing she heard for a while.

***

“Come on, get her up.”

Sigrid felt hands grabbing her by her arms. She offered no resistance as she was dragged to her feet. She was surprised to find that she was no longer handcuffed, although the cuffs still dangled from one wrist. She was even more surprised when one of the two men – both ski-masked, of course – who had invaded her cell unbuckled her collar and removed it, tossing it away. They started to usher her out of her cell, and she had a moment of panic. Where were they taking her? What were they going to do to her now? She wanted to resist, but the captivity and abuse had taken too much out of her. They hustled her out of her cell and down the corridor. There was a ‘T’ intersection at the end of it. When they reached it, they turned left. There was no more corridor there, only an open area eight or ten feet on a side. It looked as rough and unfinished as everything else in the area, but Sigrid saw a drain set in the middle of the floor. Directly above it, a metal hook hung from the bare ceiling at the end of a heavy chain. It looked ominous, and she tried to pull free. The two men were too strong and too determined. In a very short time, Sigrid found herself dangling by her handcuffs from the hook. She could just manage to reach the floor with her toes, which took the strain off of her wrists. For the first time, she saw the hose lying coiled on the floor, one end of it connected to a spigot set in the wall, and the bucket of soapy water next to it. The handle of a brush stuck up out of the bucket. She had one brief moment of relief as she realized that they had not brought her here to kill her before one of the men picked up the hose and began spraying her with cold, cold water.

They cleaned her. They were very thorough about it. The brush they used looked a lot like one that might be used to wash a car. The bristles were soft, but against Sigrid’s bruised skin they still poked and hurt. She started to complain when one of the men started to wash her between her legs, but the other man shut her up quickly by directing the stream of water right at her face.

Finally, they were done. They dried Sigrid off with scratchy towels. They even made an effort to dry her dripping hair, but when they stopped it was still very damp. Finally, they freed her from the handcuffs. She was shivering violently as they dragged her along down another corridor and through a massive wooden door. The room on the other side was dark, and they left the door open to let a little light in as they forced Sigrid to her hands and knees on the flagstones. They put a chain around her neck and secured it with a padlock. The other end of the chain was already padlocked to a heavy metal staple anchored in cement. Sigrid was expecting another round of rape, but once she was secured the men got up and left her there. They went back out through the door and shut it behind them. Sigrid was left in utter darkness, wondering what was to come next and dreading whatever it might be.

Chapter Seven

Sigrid crouched naked on the flagstones. The darkness was absolute. She couldn’t see anything at all. She couldn’t hear anything either, except for the occasional drip of water from her still-damp hair onto the floor. She waited, trying to steel herself for whatever horrors her captors were going to inflict on her next. But time passed, and nothing happened. That only made things worse.

She hadn’t gotten much of a look at her new room when they’d dragged her in. Her wet hair had kept falling over her eyes. But they seemed to have dragged her quite a ways once they’d gone through the door. She reached up to comb her hair back with her fingers. She still couldn’t see anything, but she felt a little better. The chain around her neck was too short to let her kneel upright, so she stayed on all fours.

“Hello?” she called out. Her voice echoed back at her from the darkness. It sounded as if she was in another one of those big, round chambers.

“Hello?” she tried again. There was no answer, except for the echo of her voice. This was strange. It also struck her as ominous. She did not know what was coming next, but she was sure it would hurt.

Time passed. Sigrid moved so that she was reclining on the floor. It took the strain off of her knees, but the flagstones were just as cold and hard against her thigh and hip. At least she could move around a little, which was much better than the box she had been nailed up in. She waited. It was all she could do.

She heard a laugh in the darkness. It was the laugh of a girl or a very young woman. There was no hint of mirth in it, only a note of mocking triumph. Sigrid drew herself into a crouch and looked around, trying to figure out which direction the laugh had come from. The echoes made it impossible. There was another laugh, just as mirthless and mocking and then a powerful spotlight came on, directly over Sigrid. The sudden glare blinded her for a moment. She raised a hand to shield her eyes and blinked as she tried to look around her.

A small figure stepped slowly into the cone of light. Still blinking, Sigrid squinted at it. The first thing Sigrid could make out was long, dark hair framing a delicate oval face. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the small mouth, button nose and slanted eyes of the Eurasian woman who had been at the club. She did not look so very young now. She was wearing a long, red, high-necked Chinese dress embroidered in yellow that clung tightly to her slim body, accenting the lines of her waist. Dressed as she was, her figure did not look quite so much like a boy’s as it had at the club. The dress was slit up the sides to her hips. Thin sandals protected her feet from the chill of the flagstones.

“You look quite fetching that way,” the woman said to Sigrid. She tilted her head to one side. “Well, you would if you were not quite so bruised. Get on your hands and knees and let me look at you.” She raised a hand, brandishing a riding crop.

Sigrid’s immediate impulse was to tell her to go fuck herself, but there was something merciless in those exotic eyes that made her choke the words back. She gulped them down and obeyed, slowly, keeping her eye on the crop. The Eurasian woman smiled, but it was the smile of a cat with a crippled mouse. She slowly walked around Sigrid, tilting her head from one side to the other as she inspected her.

“Those are truly magnificent tits,” she observed. “Even with you like that, they don’t just hang down.” She reached out with the riding crop and brushed the end of it across Sigrid’s nipple. “I like the way your nipples still point a little outwards. Paul has assured me that your tits are real. They are, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Sigrid mumbled. The Eurasian woman immediately brought the riding crop down
hard
across Sigrid’s ass. Sigrid shrieked at the sudden sting, but some inner sense warned her not to move.

“The correct answer,” the Eurasian woman went on calmly, “is: ‘Yes,
mistress
,” she said. “Now, try it again.”

“Yes, mistress,” Sigrid gritted. She did not look at her tormentor.

“That’s better. A little rough, yet, but it was your first try.” Sigrid felt the wide end of the crop sliding up and down her back gently. She shivered. Something about this strange, small woman frightened her.

“Bogo did his job a little too well,” the woman went on. “Your lovely skin isn’t broken anywhere, but it will take some time for those marks to fade. I didn’t think you’d need such a vigorous initiation, but Paul insisted. I really like your tan lines. You work very hard on them, don’t you?”

“Yes, mistress,” Sigrid answered.

“I think we should let you keep them. They suit you. I’ll have to think of a way to arrange it.”

Sigrid said nothing. The state of her tan lines was among the least of her worries right now. The Eurasian woman brought the crop down across her ass again. Sigrid’s shriek echoed throughout the chamber.

“You are not very polite.”

“T-thank you, mistress,” Sigrid shuddered.

“That’s better.” Sigrid felt her place the crop down on her back. The Eurasian woman crouched down in front of her. She took a handful of Sigrid’s hair and lifted her head so that they were face to face. Up this close, those dark almond eyes were deep, unreadable and terrifying.

“I think we will be very good friends. Is this your real hair color?”

“Y-y-yes, mistress.” Sigrid wanted to look away from those eyes. She couldn’t.

“Truly? No lying, now.”

“Truly, mistress,” Sigrid gulped.

“Very nice,” the Eurasian woman smiled. “I had thought you dyed it and your pubic hair as well. My goodness, you are a treasure.” Her smile faded. “I like that you wax down there, but I’m afraid that we’ll have to shave you.” She smiled brightly, as if expecting an answer.

“Yes, mistress,” Sigrid agreed.

“Excellent.” She kept her grip on Sigrid’s hair and reached under with her free hand to fondle Sigrid’s breasts, cupping and squeezing gently. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed. “These are just about
perfect
!”

“Thank you, mistress.” Sigrid tried not to sob. It was not the first time another woman had played with her breasts, but she wanted desperately to pull away. She had no idea what wrath “mistress” would unleash on her if she did, so she stayed put, gritted her teeth, and endured. The woman’s hands felt unusually warm.

“I’m told you refused to suck cock.” The woman kept fondling Sigrid’s breasts as if she couldn’t get enough of them. Her fingertips kept brushing against the nipples, and they began to swell.

“Yes, mistress,” Sigrid admitted.

“That’s not very nice, especially after your friend went to so much trouble to learn how to do it exactly right. You watched her service Paul. Did it really look so hard to do?”

“No, mistress.” Inwardly, Sigrid shuddered. No, it hadn’t looked hard at all. She was no stranger to fellatio. Sometimes, it had been the quickest way for her to get what she wanted. But she had never cared for it, and had never,
ever
let a man come in her mouth, let alone swallowed it afterwards. It had not looked hard, but it had looked disgusting, especially the way Amanda had had to do it: Naked, collared and bound in a bare little cell.

“Well, then, perhaps next time you won’t be so shy about it.”

“I-I don’t like it, mistress,” Sigrid protested weakly. She steeled herself for another stinging blow from the riding crop. Instead, the other woman only laughed.

“You fool,” she said pleasantly. “Do you think it matters here what you like or don’t like? Do you think I
care
?”

“No, mistress.” Sigrid sobbed openly this time. She had known it all along, but being made to admit it to this strange, frightening woman brought the horror of her situation home to her too strongly. She began crying. She couldn’t stop.

“Tears?” the Eurasian woman observed. “They’re useless here. You know that.”

“I-I-I know, mistress,” Sigrid gulped out between sobs.

The woman let go of Sigrid’s breasts. The nipples were hard now, even though Sigrid had felt no pleasure at all in the woman’s touch. She stood up again and walked around behind Sigrid. Sigrid gave a start when she felt those warm fingers exploring her.

“One of the loveliest pussies I’ve ever seen,” the woman said admiringly. “Nice, plump pink lips, and it’s all pink inside, too. It will look even better after we’ve shaved you and you’ve had a chance to heal up a little. You’ve been used very hard, haven’t you?”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Gorgeous ass, too,” the woman went on, “round and firm and nicely shaped.” Her fingers slid along Sigrid’s thighs. “Women would kill for legs like these. How do you keep in such perfect shape?” Her hands squeezed Sigrid’s calves.

“Yoga, mistress.”

“Hm. Well, we’ll have to make sure you keep it up. Perhaps you could teach some of the other women here. Not all of them come here in such excellent condition. How tall are you?”

“Five-eleven, mistress.”

“Yes, you’re a tall girl. I’d say you weigh about one-fifty-five? Maybe a little more with those tits and hips?”

“One-sixty, mistress,” Sigrid replied.

“Just gorgeous,” the woman said, apparently to herself. “Oh, we’ll get a spectacular price for you, once you’ve been properly trained and conditioned.”

Sigrid shuddered. Properly trained? And conditioned?

“Tell me, bitch,” the woman said. “Have you ever taken a cock up your gorgeous round ass?”

“No, mistress.”

“Well, that will be something new for you, then. But I think you should be allowed to heal up a bit more before we do that. Still,” the woman went on brightly, “there’s no reason why you can’t learn your lessons on oral sex while you’re healing.”

“Please… please no, mistress…” Sigrid hated herself for begging.

“Nonsense,” the woman said. Sigrid felt those warm hands on her hips. They slid slowly up to her waist. “It’s not that hard. You have all the equipment. Perhaps you just need some special incentive.”

It didn’t feel like a question. Sigrid kept silent.

“We have different methods of persuasion here. Usually after one session with Bogo a woman is terribly anxious to please. You seem a bit different than most women, though.”

The hands slid under Sigrid and fondled her breasts again. Sigrid could feel the other woman’s body pressing up against her. It took an effort for her not to move.

“So,” the other woman continued, “what other methods of persuasion might work on you? Oh, those nipples get very hard, don’t they?”

Sigrid shuddered and bit her lower lip.

“Let’s see… do you know what strappado is? That’s where your hands are tied behind you and then pulled
up
as high as they can go. It’s most uncomfortable, I’m told. Most women can bear it for only a few minutes.”

Sigrid squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she could do the same with her ears. The woman’s voice had taken on an intimate, purring quality, as if they were sharing some very private secret. Except for the two swats with the riding crop she had been very gentle. Even so, Sigrid was growing more and more terrified of her, and she could not say why.