The young porter paused at the head of the stairs. Twelve strokes with a whip. And then that blonde on the bed. But twelve strokes… Was it worth it? He paused for a moment longer and then decided that it was well worth it. After all, twelve strokes wouldn't kill him. And he had at times thought it would be nice to be whipped by a girl-a girl as beautiful as this red-head.
He walked to the door and knocked. He waited to hear their summons and then entered the room, closing and locking the door behind him. His eyes fell on the whip and the cords and something else on the bed, and he felt a chill of fear pass through him. He told himself again that they couldn't kill him, cruel though that whip looked.
"Fifteen minutes," he said brightly. "Here I am."
"Take off your clothes," said the red-head. She drained her cup and stood up. She took two upright chairs and placed them together. "And then lie down here." She picked up the cords from the bed. "Come along, hurry up."
He undressed himself without a word. When he was quite naked he lay down on his stomach over the seats of the two chairs.
The red-head hutched one of the chairs a little apart from the other. She indicated the crack of four of five centimetres between the two seats. "Put your rod and balls down beneath that crack."
He obeyed her in silence. He was feeling more and more frightened, but he was too dominated by her personality to protest.
She hutched the chair back again so that his genitals were tightly trapped between, and below, the seats of the two chairs. She knelt beside them and tied one of the cords around the centre legs of the chairs, making it impossible for him to wriggle his genitals loose. She moved to the other side and did the same to the other centre legs. Then she stood up and reached for the whip.
"One word of warning," she said, drawing the long leather lash through her fingers. "Don't try to pull your rod and balls free. They can't come free. They're trapped there till I undo the ropes round the chair legs. But if you try to pull yourself free, you'll castrate yourself."
"Why should I want to pull free?" he said morosely. "I'll just lie here and take your twelve."
"We'll see whether you'll just lie there," said the blonde. "You're going to want to get off those chairs as soon as she starts."
"But you'll castrate yourself," repeated the redhead, "if you try." She drew a deep breath and put a hand momentarily to her heart. As always, just before she began a whipping, it was beating furiously, almost painfully.
He twisted his head up suddenly. "Hey!" he said, excitedly. "It's my bottom you're going to hit, isn't it? Not my back."
The blonde chuckled. "It's a bit late to arrange that now."
"No!" he said, his voice shrill. "I agreed to twelve across my bottom, not my back."
"You didn't say anything about that," said the red-head. "Nor did I." She stood there in her flimsy underwear, one hand trailing the whip beside her, the other hand to her heart. Her eyes were burning with lustful cruelty. She drank in the sounds of terror in his voice. "What can you do about it now, anyway? You're absolutely at my mercy."
"No! No! Not my back! It was understood."
"Nothing was understood," she said, lifting the whip and letting its tip play lightly up and down his spine. "And even if it was, what can you do about it? I can give you a hundred across your back if I want to."
"Let me up!" he said wildly. "I want to go. I don't want to have anything to do with either of you." He pounded the floor with his fists.
She laughed, and dangled the tip of the whip in the crack of his buttocks. He reacted to this new touch as though he had received an electric shock. He gave a jerk-and immediately cried out at the pain he gave to his genitals. She laughed again. "I told you you will castrate yourself. Be careful."
"Please let me go," he said more quietly. "I'll keep my mouth shut, I promise you. I won't say anything to anybody about all this. But please let me go."
"That's very big of you. Thank you. But I don't give a damn whom you tell or don't tell." She made a loop of the whip and placed it round his neck. She stood above him and drew the loop tight. "A very good sound thrashing across your back would do you a world of good. I can see. But I'm going to give it to you across your bottom, after all. Do you know why?"
The whip was very tightly round his throat, throttling him. He made a choking noise.
She tightened the loop even more, counting the seconds in her mind. She would keep him without breath for another half minute. "Why don't you answer me? Do you want to make me angry? Do you want it across your back after all?"
He began to beat frantically again on the floor, his senses swimming.
"Careful!" said the blonde, warningly.
"He's all right," said the red-heat, and counted the last five seconds. She released her hold on the whip. He drew a great gulp of air into his lungs, swallowed, exhaled, and drew another great breath. He twisted his head up at her. His eyes were panic-stricken. "You must be a devil!" he whispered.
She swung the whip through the air. It hissed ominously. His words gave her tremendous pleasure. So did the panic- stricken look in his eyes. "I was about to tell you why I'm going to be kind and thrash only your bottom. It's because my friend wants to have you afterwards, and I don't think you'd be any good for her if I whip your back. You don't seem to be very tough. For that reason I'm going to gag you." She went to where her rucksack was lying and found the stockings with which she had gagged Franz-Ruller. She rolled one of them into a ball and came back to him. "Open your mouth wide," she ordered. He opened his mouth to protest-and was quickly and efficiently gagged almost before he realised what was happening. She measured her distance with the whip at arm's length, settled herself comfortably with her feet slightly apart, put her hand once more to her heart, and drew another deep breath, a breath of quivering exhilaration. "Now!" she murmured. She raised the whip high above her head, held it there for an instant, and brought it hissing down with all her force across the centre of his buttocks.
His body gave a great flinch, but his trapped genitals prevented it from being more than a flinch. A livid weal sprang into being across his bottom, and tiny drops of blood began to gather in it.
She gave him the dozen lashes with equal force, and with a pause of some seconds between each. He groaned, choked, grunted, beat his fists upon the floor, and writhed his body as much as his genitals would let him. His noises and his desperate writhings doubled and trebled the rapture she felt at the sight of her whip cutting into his flesh. She felt herself uplifted, transported, translated into another world of stark and savage ecstasy.
The blonde watched the terrible thrashing with a light in her own eyes. She was not the sadist that her friend was, but she enjoyed watching a flogging. She counted the lashes, fearful that the red-head would not stop on the twelfth stroke. She was ready to put out her hand, to bring the thrashing to a finish. But it was not necessary. On the twelfth stroke the red-head dropped the whip beside her, tottered to the side of the bed and fell forward on to her face.
The blonde regarded the writhing man. "It's over," she said. "You've paid the price. Now you can have some reward-after you've got your breath back." She looked at his bleeding buttocks. "Oh dear, blood in bucketfuls again." I'll have to clean you up a bit. But what with?" She looked around the room. "I can't use the hotel towels, I suppose. Oh damn! I'll have to use one of ours." She went to her rucksack and took out a white linen hand-towel and a bottle of eau-de-cologne. "This is about ninety-five per cent alcohol. It'll sterilise you all right." She came back to him, opened the bottle, and poured the liquid over his bleeding weals. He gave another flinch as the alcohol seemed to bite him. "Sorry," she said, "but you have to be cleaned up a bit, for your own sake." She laid the hand-towel over his bottom. "That'll suck the blood up in a moment or two. And then you can start on me, can't you?"
He grunted.
She looked at him and smiled. "You're still gagged, of course. Poor boy. Here, let me undo it." She untied the stocking and took the other one out of his mouth. "There. That's better, isn't it?"
"Untie the chairs, please," he said quietly, working his tongue to produce saliva.
Something in his tone made her glance at him, with narrowed eyes. "Don't you wand to lie still and relax for a minute or two?"
"No," he said, in the same quiet, dull voice. "I want to go. I think you're devils. You've nearly killed me."
"I?" She laughed. "I didn't touch you."
"You're just as bad. You didn't stop her."
"Stop her? Why should I stop her? You agreed to take a thrashing, didn't you?"
"I want to go," he repeated stubbornly. "Just untie these chairs, please."
She narrowed her eyes again. She stooped and picked up the whip. She put it closely to his face. "You see this? You know the pain it can give you? Answer me." He nodded his head.
"Well," she said, "I'm quite ready to give you another thrashing with it myself if I hear anything more about you wanting to go. Do you understand?" He nodded again. He thought that he had better promise anything that she wanted. She would then untie the chairs, and he could grab his clothes and run. "All right," he said. "All right, what?"
"All right, I won't say anything more about wanting to go."
She regarded him thoughtfully, put down the whip, and picked up the two stockings. "Put your wrists together."
He frowned at her. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"
"No. Put them together."
He sighed and obeyed. He watched his wrists being tied tightly. "I don't feel very much like it," he said. "It's been knocked out of me with that whip."
"It'll come back in a moment or two, and then you'll be as randy as a ram as a result of it." She tied an extra knot in the stockings. "There. You're safer now. You won't be able to run away, even if you do want to break your promise." She went to the door, which he had himself locked, and took the key out of its hole. She wondered where to put it. She saw that he was watching her. She went back to the centre of the room, to the chairs over which he was lying, and passed on out of his line of vision. She quickly and silently opened a drawer and dropped the key in.
She walked back to him silently, lifting the hand-towel, now quite wet with his blood. She looked critically at his weals, saw that the bleeding had begun to stop, and went to the wash-basin. She wrung the blood out of the towel, turned on a tap to wash it all down the drain, and returned to him. She laid the towel over his buttocks again and patted it lightly to help the remaining blood to be absorbed. "I don't think you'll be able to go anywhere near the bed," she said. "We'd better do it on the floor." She knelt and began to untie the cords round the chair legs.
The red-head stirred on the bed. She gave a deep sigh of great satisfaction, raised her head and then, after a moment, her chest, turned over on her side, and slowly got off the bed. "Oho!" she said, looking at her victim and seeing the stocking tightly binding his wrists. "You're all helpless again. Are you waiting for another whipping?"
He looked up at her with a gaze of hatred. He opened his mouth to say something acid, saw the whip lying on the floor a few metres away from him, and closed his mouth again.
The blonde rose to her feet, the cords dangling in her hands. "You're free to get up now. Come on and to your stuff." She sat gracefully on the floor and lay backwards until she was stretched out. "It's a bit hard, but never mind. Better than having your blood all over the bed. Come on."
He rose stiffly from the chairs and stood erect. The bloody towel dropped to the floor.
The red-head looked at his penis. It was small and flaccid. She took it in her hands. "Is this my doing?" she asked softly. "Did I make it go so small with my lovely whip?"
He looked at her again with hatred, but his penis began to stiffen. She was a very lovely girl.
"I don't think you like me very much," she said. "But never mind. I like you. I always have a great tenderness for anyone I've whipped."
"Come on, come on," said the blonde impatiently. "Don't just stand there. Get down here on top of me."
With his penis now fully erected again, and, indeed, feeling as randy as she had said he would, he knelt beside her and then lay down over her. She seized his penis and, opening her legs, guided it towards her hungry vagina. He gave a sigh of pleasure and abandoned himself to his reward.
The red-head picked up the dildo from the bed and quickly strapped it into position. She agitated it once or twice to make sure that the end that was inside her was comfortable. She knelt, and then lay over his back.
The blonde grunted with the extra weight upon her.
"Too heavy?" asked the red-head.
"No. It's all right," said the blonde. "Go ahead."
He turned his head in considerable surprise. "What's the game now?" He could not see the dildo that the red-head was wearing. He pulled irritably on the stockings that bound his wrists.
The blonde took a handful of his hair and pulled his head round again. "Nothing at all. Just get on with what you're going to do." She flexed her muscles and opened the mouth of her vagina. His penis slipped deliciously inside. "There," she said. "Isn't that nicer than talking all the time?"
"Yea," he said, and began to thrust and withdraw, feeling his testicles enlarge with an unusually stimulated appetite.
The red-head raised her loins a little and put the head of her dildo to his bottom. She felt the wetness of the remaining blood of his buttocks against her own skin, and caught her breath with pleasure. She guided the tip of the dildo to the mouth of his anus.
As he felt the great thing enter his anus he gave a cry and tried to turn his head again. The blonde caught his hair and prevented this. "Lie still," she hissed. "Or I'll flog you to death!"
The red-head gave a thrust. Her dildo slid smoothly and deeply into his anus, and caused an answering thrill of delight from the part inside her.
He felt the great instrument reaching far inside him.
"She is a devil," he murmured, but found to his surprise that she was giving him a good deal of pleasure. He sighed, found a more comfortable position for his bound hands by putting them out over the head of the girl upon whom he was lying, and gave himself up to his rapturous thrusting and withdrawing.
And as he thrust and withdrew with his penis, so the redhead thrust and withdrew with her dildo.