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Thwack!
My slender, well-oiled cane dug into the tender left nipple of the middle-aged woman bound so helplessly in my private chamber. She arched her head back and screamed out as the pain raced through her breast.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!”
Thwack!
A second stroke landed squarely on her right nipple, eliciting a similar agonized reaction.
“Oooooooooooooooohhh!!!”
Her nipples, flaccid a few moments ago, now stood forth proudly from their areolas. Her full, perspiring bosom heaved as she struggled to cope with the pain that began to spread from the tips of her breast. She squirmed as the ropes that bound her prevented her from shifting to ease the pain. Her homely double chin quivering, she murmured nervously.
“I’m so sorry, Sir. It was a mistake. It will never happen again, I promise. Please don’t - ”
“Silence, Rita! I told you not to talk while being tortured. Screams only, no words!”
Rita, my new sexy middle-aged secretary, had misplaced a cheque at work. It was not that the money lost through this would affect my business in any way, but the incident gave me the excuse to use Rita the way I had wanted to use her right from the first day the personnel department had hired her for me.
I had called her to my office to tell her that she was being fired for her mistake. As I had expected, she began to plead with me to keep her on the workforce. When she had pleaded for quite some time, I made her a ‘deal’. She would have to report to my house that evening and face up to whatever I had in store for her. If she refused, she would be fired immediately, and because she did not have proper papers allowing her to work in the country, going to court would only make things worse for her. As she realized the full gravity of the situation she agreed, as expected, to my deal and arrived at my house at the appointed time that evening.
I had taken her to my ‘private’ room, which is where I derived pleasure from the women under my control. I laughed inside of me as I saw the terror in her eyes as she entered the room and took a look at the various instruments inside. The purpose of some of them was all too clear, but to her naïve and uninitiated eyes, the rest were a mystery, though she was intelligent enough to understand that their purpose must be equally sinister.
After standing in silence and terror for some time, she swallowed, and asked me nervously
“Are you going to…torture me?”
“Tortured employed secretary, or unemployed illegal immigrant – you can still choose which one you want to be.”
She gasped at the realization of the blackmail she was being subjected to, but said nothing. I concluded:
“Good choice.”
I motioned her to one corner of the room.
“Remove all your clothes. You can keep your panties on for the time being, but everything else has to go. Then stand with your back to that pillar. Move!”
Slowly, and still in shock, she began to strip. When she was in only her bra and panties, I ordered her to stop and face me. As she did so, I admired her beauty. She was in her mid-forties, but had managed to maintain her figure reasonably well. Her breasts were full, and straining slightly at her tight bra. Her cleavage was deep. She had a hint of a paunch, but then you can’t expect middle-aged women to always have flat abs.
“Tie your hair above your head. There should be no hair on your neck or shoulders.”
She began to put away her hair, and I observed that she had shaved her armpits, which now glistened with sweat from her anxiety.
“Good. Now remove your bra and let it drop. Then move towards the pillar.”
Slowly, with a bit of hesitation, she unhooked her bra and let it slip to the floor. Her gorgeous full breasts bounced free. I had dreamed about what her breasts might look like from the first day I had seen her, and now I had a chance to compare the real ones with my mental picture. The areolas were light brown, and her dark brown nipples were the size of quarters. They were still not erect, but I would more than make sure that they would become so very soon. I led her to the pillar and tied her wrists above her head, and then passed two straps, one under her breasts and the other across her waist, so that she could not move too much. Finally, I bound her ankles in the same way as her wrists.
She now stood in my chamber, squirming in pain from the fire spreading across her breasts.
“Let me explain to you in detail how this deal works Rita. You are a very, very inefficient employee.”
I swung the cane and landed it across her breasts to punctuate the point that I had just made.
Whack!
“Oooowwwwww!!!”
“In addition to that, you are an illegal employee, you have no papers to work in this country.”
Whack! The underside of her breasts this time.
“Oooooooooohhhh!!! Oh God!”
“But I will let you continue to work for me, and no one will ever come to know that it is illegal. But in return, every Friday at precisely this time, you have to come over to me to demonstrate your…loyalty.”
Whack!
“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!! Stop!”
“In addition, on any other day you foul up like you did today, you have to come over. Understand?”
Silence.
Thwack!
“Yeoooooowwwwww!!! Yes, I understand. Please don’t cane my breasts anymore. The pain is - ”
Whack! Whack! Whack!
“AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!”
“Unbearable?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re going to have to bear it dear.”
“No sir, please…”
“This will go on till your breasts are a uniform shade of red. Are you ready?”
The caning took on a regular beat and I laid stroke after stroke right next to one another across each of her breasts. She screamed at each stroke in the beginning, but then it became a steady moan, punctuated by a yelp each time the cane caught her nipples or any of the tiny warts on her breasts. As promised, I stopped when her breasts were a uniform red hue.
Rita was literally hanging from her hands by the end of the caning, her head thrown back at an angle, her double chin embarrassingly revealed. I cradled her throbbing nipples in between my fingers and rolled them. She moaned and then looked at me with tearful eyes. I brought my lips close to hers and she backed away slightly.
“Come on, Rita dear. Kiss me.”
She was hesitant at first, and opened up just a bit, and then a bit more as I gently squeezed her nipples. Soon I had locked lips with her, and was exploring her deeper reaches with my tongue as she moaned in a combination of pleasure and the throbbing pain.
But this woman had committed a mistake, and would therefore have to be punished more, much more. Her breasts had just stood up to a severe caning, and it was too early for the whip. Some electricity would have to do for now. Smiling to myself, I walked over to the rack and selected two alligator clamps.
“Rita, have you ever had an electric shock?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where and how?”
“From a faulty toaster, sir.”
“I see. But have you ever had a shock to your breasts?”
“No, sir, never. But….no sir, please, no, no please, I beg you. Not on the breasts…”
“Silence!”
I approached her with the alligator clamps, and fastened one to each of her nipples. She winced as the serrated jaws bit into the tender flesh of her buds. She watched in horror as I connected the wires to each of the clamps, and then plugged the control box into the mains. The control box hummed to life, and I could see Rita already breathing heavily in anticipation. I tightened the nipple clamps and she screamed as the jaws bit down harder on her tits. I leaned into her cleavage and kissed a wart that stood out on her breast, and then sat down on a chair in front of her, with the control box in my hand.
I turned the dial to a low setting, and then pushed the power button. The hum from the control box increased to a low buzz, and simultaneously, Rita flinched and wriggled her breasts. At this setting, the current passing through her nipples was like someone tickling them with a stiff feather.
“How does it feel, Rita dear?”
“Aah…aah…aaaahh….sir…”
“Perhaps you will like the next setting more.”
I turned the knob to medium and squeezed the power button.
Buzz!!!!!
“Aaaaaaaaarghhhhh!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!! Oooooooooooohhhhh!!!”
I chuckled as I saw Rita’s face contort and redden with pain as the current surged through her deliciously tender nipples. Her breasts were now bathed in sweat, and ripples passed over them as Rita shook from the surge of current flowing through her breasts. I played with the power button, stopping and then resuming the flow of current, till her breasts were dancing wildly as the electrical torture subsided and then restarted.
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!! No, please stop!!! Oooowwwwwwwwww!!!!”
There was another setting left on the control box, and I could not resist trying it, though I knew it would probably knock her out for a short while. I flicked the knob into high and then squeezed the power button. The buzz was louder than before, and Rita arched backwards, her proud breasts jutting outward, and then she bellowed at the top of her voice in agonizing pain.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH…..”
Her voice drained into oblivion as her head lolled backwards. I turned off the device. She had lost consciousness. It was now time to give her a break before the next phase of her torture could begin.
She came round in just about a minute or so, and moaned softly as her full breasts throbbed from the surges of electricity that had ravaged them just moments ago.
“Rita? Look up at me.”
“Mmm…yes, Sir. Please don’t torture me anymore. I can’t take it.”
“I’m afraid you have no choice. You must face up to the consequences.”
“But Sir, my breasts are burning from the caning and the current.”
I drew close to her and took her hard-as-acorn nipples in between my fingers and tweaked them slightly.
“Aahhh!!! Hurts!!”
I drew my face close to hers, and then whispered into her ear
“They might hurt a bit more when they feel the kiss of the whip, Rita.”
She gasped at my almost limitless cruelty.
“Master…” Her voice faded away into a series of anticipatory moans and whines.
I picked up a whip from the table behind her. She had probably not seen it before, and shuddered as it came into her view. I held the strap tightly between my hands and played it across her erect nipples like a violin. She swooned from the sensation the leather strap caused on her tits and moaned.
I continued to whisper into her ears, just to play on her psychologically.
“You know, the whip is the classic torture device, and its history of use on women has been, shall we say, somewhat directed at certain parts of the body more than others.”
“Mmmm….no, Sir please. Have mercy on me.”
“It was used to extract confessions from witches in the middle ages, and then during the Inquisition. It’s amazing how responsive and obedient a woman becomes once she’s tasted the sting of the lash on the tender parts of her body, you know.”
“Please, Sir, don’t lash me with the whip. I can’t possibly bear it.”
I continued.
“There are so many parts of a woman’s body where one can use the whip: the back, the thighs, the breasts and nipples, the vagina…as for you, Rita, I am not interested in whipping either your back or your thighs. I will give you a choice. You can choose to have either your breasts or your pussy whipped. The choice is yours.”
“Sir, how can I choose like that. I-”
“Well, if you don’t choose, I’ll choose one for you, or possibly…both.”
“No, please Sir. Breasts. Whip my breasts, but not my pussy.”
“Good choice, Rita dear.”
I tightened the bounds that held her till she was almost on tiptoe. Her breasts were bunched together and rode high on her chest, and a deep cleavage invited the whip to explore them thoroughly. I stepped back and cracked the whip in the air. She jumped at the sound, then moaned at the thought of what would soon follow. I swung the whip behind me and then let it fly at her breasts.
Crack!!! The leather strap struck against the upper part of both her breasts. Her entire body recoiled at the impact, and ripples passed over the skin of her bouncing breasts.
“Aaaaaaaaaaghhhh!!!!!!!! Stop!!!”
Crack!!! The strap dug into her tender left nipple.
“Aaaiiieeeeeeeee!!!!!!! You’ll kill me!!!”
Crack!!! She threw her head back and yelled in agony.
Crack!!! Her legs gave way and she hung by her wrists from the bounds.
Crack!!! She squirmed, trying in vain to avoid the lashing.
Crack!!! Her head jolted back and her breasts jutted out more.
Crack!!! She began to sob as her bosom became criss-crossed with the angry red marks of the whip digging savagely into her boobs.
My pants bulging from the pressure of the beast contained within, I continued to lash her breasts from all possible angles and on all possible parts. By the end of the 25th stroke, she was hanging from her hands again, her legs unable to bear her weight against the assault that her middle-aged body was being forced to endure. After the fiftieth stroke, I strode towards her and thrust her head upward with the handle of the whip. Her face was flushed red, her eyes glazed from the flogging meted out to her. She whimpered softly as I glared into her pleading eyes.
“If you had known you’d get all this as punishment, you’d have been more careful with that cheque wouldn’t you?”
“Mmm…Yes, Sir…I promise to be more careful from now on…”
“Don’t you dare think that your punishment for today is over, Rita.”
“Not over? Sir! Please…You have no idea of the pain my breasts are in right now!!”
“I have a fair idea. You see, you’re not the first woman that’s been bound and beaten in this manner, Rita. Do you know Nadia, Michelle and Jennifer from work?”
She nodded, eyes wide at what was being revealed.
“Well, at some point of time or the other, they’ve all made mistakes like you have Rita. And they’ve all been tied to this frame, just like you are, and I’ve watched each of them fidget and squirm and scream as I thrashed the living daylights out of them.”
She shuddered at the thought of her friends having been treated in the same way as she had been. I walked up to her and touched her perspiring double chin with my fingers. She swallowed nervously, as I guided her head up slightly, giving me a good view of her lovely feminine neck, dotted with numerous warts.
“You might wonder,” I continued, fingering her neck warts, “what the point is, in torturing women employees like this. Well, in the normal course of work, I get to know how efficient each of my female employees is, but I don’t get to know their inner character. But when you have a woman tied to this frame, and when you torture her till she breaks, you get a pretty good idea of their inner characters. And I use this knowledge in managing my employees. You understand what I mean?”
She shook her head slightly from side to side. Obviously this was too much for her to take in.
“Well, let me put it simply. Take Michelle’s case for example. She’s a total pussy when she’s tied naked to the frame. She started crying the moment I approached her with my cane in hand. So you can well imagine what she must have been doing when I was through with her.”
Rita’s double chin quivered as she swallowed in nervousness.
“So that day, I came to know that Michelle doesn’t have a strong character. And that knowledge has influenced my choice of the work that I’ve given her since then. She’s never been given any task that really requires strength of character.”
Rita’s tortured eyes looked into mine. I knew she wanted to know about the other two ladies.
“Now coming to Jennifer. She really has audacity, you know. When she was having her breasts tortured with electricity, she offered to have sex with me as much as I wanted in return for sparing her from the torture. This is an example of lack of character, and she paid for it after that. She had to stay away from work for a week, and since then she’s been stagnating in the lower echelons, and she’ll continue to do that for as long as she works here.”
Rita gasped at the thought of someone having to stay away from work for one week because of torture.
“And last, we come to Nadia. She has the strongest character of any woman employee I’ve had in my company ever. Not once did she complain about the pain. She held her position stiffly and presented her body to me, never once trying to escape the blows that I rained down on her. And no matter what I tried, I could not get her to bitch, complain or do anything else on those lines. That day, she earned my respect, and today, she’s manager of her own department. Because I knew that she would be able to handle the job.”
I approached Rita and released the clamps that held her wrists to the frame. She was a bit surprised, because just a few moments ago, I had told her that her torture for the day was not over. I bent down and undid the ankle restraints as well, and she gingerly stepped off the frame and on to the tiled floor. All this while, she had had almost every movement of hers restricted, and now that she was completely free to move, she found herself unable to decide what to do. Finally, she tightened her lips and made up her mind, and then moved forward and gave me a hug. This surprised me, and I smiled as I clasped her tortured body close to mine.
“I have one final surprise for you before you are on your way Rita.”
She gasped.
“Don’t worry. It’s not as violent as any of the other things. Just pick up your bra and wait right here.”
I returned to my room and returned with two identical small cup shaped objects.
“Okay, Rita. Stand with your hands behind your head. That’s right. Now present your breasts nicely. Let’s see now…”
Slowly, I pressed each of the cups against her nipples and areolas and then waited till the adhesive held them to her bosom.
“Now, put on your bra, as you would normally.”
Slowly she did so, wondering what the strange devices were meant to do. Once her bra was on, I spoke to her.
“See, from tomorrow, when I want to call you, I won’t ring the bell anymore. It makes too much noise. Instead, I’m going to push this button on this control pad I’ll carry with me, and when I do…”
I pressed the button. There was a slight buzz from underneath the tips of her bras, and she jumped at the impulse.
“Eeeeeeeeeee!!!! What’re those? Aaaaiiiiiii!!!”
“They’re called ‘buzzers’. They do give you a buzz don’t they Rita?”
“Yes, but – Ooooohhhh!!!! Owwww!!!!! But how?”
“Oh through a combination of rapid vibrations and tiny bits of electric pulses. The nipples respond rather well to that kind of treatment don’t they?”
Rita giggled, looking at the control pad in my hands.
“You want more don’t you?”
She blushed and giggled some more.
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
I gave the button a longer squeeze. She backed into the wall.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!!!! This is crazy.”
Her face, previously flushed red from the strokes of cane and whip, was now blushing red as she laughed and giggled. Then she did something that surprised me more than I’ve been surprised in several years. Slowly, she sank down on her knees, and began to unzip my pants.
“Are you sure, Rita?” I asked.
“Yes, Sir, completely.” she said, and gently took the control pad from my hand.
Slowly, she began to suck at my manhood, and simultaneously her fingers played with the button on the pad, stimulating her nipples as she went about it. I rubbed her warts to add to her sensation, and at the same time, I too was driven closer and closer to a climax. She sensed that I was about to come, and took my member out of her mouth and held it over her reddened breasts as I covered them with a thick layer of cum. She massaged the load over her bosom, and looking up at me with her big eyes, she said,
“A few more sessions here, Sir, and I’ll be ready to take your load all the way down here.” As she said so, she traced a line with her finger down her throat, in between her breasts and finishing at her navel. My limp shaft gave a twitch at the thought, and I knew that I would have to bring her back soon. From the way the session ended, I knew that she was probably dying to get back too.
I helped her on with her clothes and overcoat, and then watched as she left the building to her car, parked outside. As she opened the door, she looked up at me as I stood on the balcony, and I gave a playful squeeze of the control pad. Her hands quickly clutched her breasts, and she nervously looked around to see if anyone had seen. Then she looked up at me, smiled, and blew me a flying kiss before driving off.
I went back into the torture chamber. The frame was still covered with beads of sweat from her body. I closed my eyes and ran the events of the last couple of hours through my head.
I had discovered a woman with character, for sure. But what kind of character? She was certainly not the little pussy that Michelle had been. She was most definitely not the lowly slut that Jennifer tried to be. Nor was she the Amazon warrior that Nadia had been. She was different. She felt pain, and reacted to it. She complained against the torment too, but at the end of it, when she saw that she left with pain, and not scars, she was able to accept the torture, and maybe even like it a bit.
There was no way I was firing Rita for the next couple of years. She was the secretary that I had always dreamt of having.
THE END
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