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PUNISHMENT 120 –
Part 4, the introductions
After breakfast, Della
carefully chose her outfit for the first day of the P-120 shoot. She always
wore a different outfit on each of the six days’ torture, and one of the
highlights of each shoot was for female viewers – and those cocksluts
permitted by their dominatrixes to ogle her outrageous choice of wardrobe.
As one television critic
(female, naturally) in an adult magazine wrote: “A lot of the fun in watching
the punitive Punishment 120 show of
whip-wielding delight and domination is wondering what pussy and
breast-revealing creation the gorgeous Della Domina
will select for her viewers’ delectation. Yum, yum,
yum!”
In fact, there had even been
a suggestion that the national betting agency DAB – the Domination Agency
Board, and a major sponsor of the show – put up a sheet for punters to bet on
whether Della would appear in leather, rubber, lingerie, PVC, latex, a bikini
or whatever on each show!
As it was, there was, Della thought, quite enough gambling on the P-120
program. Bettors could gamble on how many strokes a slave would receive in his
two-hour flogging segment. How long before his first scream –
to the nearest minute – how long before his first sobs would be captured on
camera.
But that was not all.
Punters could speculate on how many times he would be force fed a glass of
urine, and how many times horses’ piss would be drenched on his agonised,
flogged flesh.
That was a total of five
different possible bets for punters, and they could also go for an “exacta”,
which she thought was the term, although she was not sure, as she never gambled
with the DAB. An exacta, Della thought she had once been told, was for a
correct prediction in all the five categories.
One lucky punter from
Greater New York City had actually struck the exacta once, she recalled, and
received a lot of publicity, not to mention a dividend of something like
750,000 New American dollars, thanks to the vast pool of money in the DAB
accounts on Punishment 120 betting,
Back to the demands of her
wardrobe, Della decided to go with lingerie for the first day of Jason’s
six-day torment. She selected a black satin bra, which she knew would gleam
sensually in the bright Arizona sun. At the center of
each cup, was a cut out, which allowed her large, brown nipples and the wide
surrounds of her areolae to be seen.
At her crotch, Della went
with a matching pair of black satin crotchless
panties. On her feet she chose black leather boots, which came
half-way up her strong thighs. On her head she pulled a broad-brimmed straw
hat, with a glistening black bow around the yellow straw.
She was just about to walk
out into the sunshine and take her place by the sturdy flogging frame where cockslut Jason would soon be dragged, when the camp
commandant knocked on the door and entered.
“Just one thing I thought
you ought to know before you go out and start shooting,” Priscilla told Della.
“Do you know why the cockslut’s mom sold him to us?”
Della shook her head. “Tell
me.”
Priscilla grinned
a wicked grin. “Because the boy was fuckin’ her,
forcing his attentions on her, raping her with his seven-inch stiffy. Thought you ought to know.”
And as the camp commandant
went back to the door, Della said: “Fuck, I wish I’d known that last night, I’d
have been able to work it into my script. As it is, I’m gonna
have to throw the script away now.”
The camp commander looked
concerned. “Hey, sorry, Della!”
Della smiled. “Don’t worry,
I’ll wing it. I often work better when I’m improvising, but I’m still made at
you for not telling me, Priscilla!”
And then she walked out into
the sunshine, digesting this disgusting piece of news, to see that her camera
and sound crew were ready and assembled, nude as usual. They wore sneakers, but
apart from that, were as naked as the day they were born.
This was an added attraction
for Punishment 120 because if, by
accident, one camerawoman found another in the background of a shot, they were
instructed to continue shooting.
The number of fan mail vidletters which came in asking “More of the Asian
camerawoman, pleeeeease!” or “Who is that beautiful
black bitch?” sometimes almost added up to equal Della’s fan mail. Well, not
quite!
“Ready crew?” asked Della,
chirpily. She had enjoyed a good breakfast, it was just before 9am and she was
looking forward to this P-120.
“Ready,” said Melody, “and
this sun is perfect. Nice light, terrific for shooting.”
“And for flogging,” laughed
Della. “Now, let’s get the first shot.” Then turning to Priscilla, she asked:
“The floggers ready?”
The camp commandant nodded.
“All ready to roll, just inside the door to the bunker. Just tap on the door as
usual, and that will be their signal to drag him out to the frame.”
Della let the three
camerawomen get ready by the door, while Claudia stood off to one side with her
miniature but strong microphone and nodded she was ready for action.
Della rapped once on the door, then scrambled to get out of shot.
The door swung open and out
came two floggers, naked in the tradition of P-120 shows, but for army-style
boots on their feet. One was Sadie, of course, her breasts heaving as she and a
superbly-built black beauty dragged a struggling cockslut
Jason from the bunker.
The lad, Della noticed with
satisfaction, was playing his part well.
“Nooooo,
nooooo, mercy, mercy, please don’t do this, I’ll do
anything, anything,” he pleaded but
it was futile.
The larger of the two
floggers, who Della took to be in her late 30s, had big, heavy breasts, with
massive nipples and areolae almost as large as saucers. Her minge
was shaved, the traces of hair black, crinkly and gleaming at her crotch. The
black bitch’s body was obviously toned by hours of gym work-outs.
Sadie was a far lighter
brown, of course, being Caucasian, but her body was no less attractive. She
also went for a shaved crotch, her blonde hair just a faint thatch on her sex.
The cockslut
was spreader-barred still, and Della noted that his arms were free, to allow him a frenzied struggling with his two
guards, but it was useless. Soon they had him beneath the crossbar of the
flogging frame, the women filming him from the front and the rear, and then he
was being strapped into position.
When they had completed
their work, the naked teenager was a sweating, suspended cockslut,
his back muscles straining from the cords which held his wrists to the inner
tops of the crossbar.
The spreader bar had gone,
but his ankles were tied wide to the feet of the strong metal poles supporting
each end of the crossbar. His thighs strained powerfully, his calves gleamed.
He was on tiptoe – and he would stay that way for eight hours!
From where she stood, Della
could see that an anal intruder had been thrust up his rectum, and a sturdy
rubber strap from the base of the dildo went to a tight rubber punishment pouch
which ensnared his balls in a cruel, prickly grip. The red rubber of the pouch
gleamed where it bunched against his scrotum.
Della, on cue from Claudia,
walked in front of the now hanging, panting and sweating slave, his cock
amazingly showing a semi-erection.
“Hello all you Punishment 120 fans out there,” she
said, a big smile on her pretty face, as she was filmed standing in front of
the swaying cockslut, “and welcome to another of your
favorite flagellation programs.
“I’m Della Domina, your hostess for the next six shows of P-120 part
eight and now, without further ado, let’s meet our two floggers for today’s
performance!”
The two women, both now
holding black leather triple-thonged floggers,
flanked Della and while the shot was being set up for the medium close-up
camera, Della whispered to the black beauty: “What’s your name, darling?”
“Audree,”
said the woman, in a deep, “Don’t fuck with me” voice, and then Claudia nodded
that she was ready for the filming to continue.
Della smiled at the
big-muscled black beauty. “Hi, now you’re Mistress Audree,
I know, but please tell our viewers more about yourself.”
Audree looked a little uncomfortable, but then announced:
“Hello, P-120
fans, I’m Mistress Audree, I’m 39-years-old and this
is my first time on the show. I’m sure lookin’
forward to it!
“But it’s not my
introduction to floggin’ – I used to work in a
government cockslut correctional facility.”
Della smiled her biggest,
most supportive smile. “Welcome aboard, Mistress Audree,
and I know you’re gonna have lots of fans after
they’ve seen you dealing to cockslut Jason here.
“Now, Mistress Sadie, tell
the viewers who you are. I understand you have a special relationship with this
slave?”
Sadie grinned and spoke. She
was, thought Della, a natural. “Hi all you lovely P-120 viewers out there,”
said the girl. “My name’s Mistress Sadie, I’m 18 and I’m this cockslut’s trainer.”
Della moved into the
dialogue. “Marvellous, girls, and good luck with his
flogging! And now, let’s meet the cockslut!”
Karla called a halt to the
filming while the close-up camerawoman, Penny, and Jenna, the medium-shot
woman, prepared to film Della’s interview with the suspended, sweat-dripping
slave.
When all was in place, Della
placed a hand on the lad’s swinging semi-stiffy, then painfully grabbed his
prickle-punished balls and smiled up at his sweat-stained face.
“And now, let me introduce
all you P-120 fans to our next cockslut – Jason.
Jason, tell the audience how old you are,” ordered Della, stroking the boy to a
rapidly appearing boner.
“I’m 18, Mistress Della,”
said the lad.
“And you’re gonna be a good little cockslut
for us, eh, Jase?” asked Della, teasingly.
“Yes, mistress, I hope so,
mistress,” the teenager said, as Della continued to work on his now pre-cum
dripping member, an action faithfully recorded by the close-up camera.
“Now tell me, Jason,” said
Della, in her best bedside manner voice, “how come you ended up here at
Punishment Park as a cockslut slave?”
The lad spoke quickly,
unaware that Della knew his “little” secret.
“My mom sold me to the
owners, Mistress Della,” said the lad.
“Why?” asked Della, and you
could have heard a pin drop in the still Arizona air.
“Cos she wanted to make some
money,” said Jason.
“Oh?” said Della, her grip
tightening on his cock, her voice hardening. “Not because you were fuckin’ her?”
The lad jerked in his bonds,
and protested.
“Er
no, nnnnno, mistress, no,” he said, his face
scrunched up as if doing that would make it true.
“Yes, mistress, yes, mistress,
yes,” said Della, implacably. “And now she’s sold you, you filthy little
fucking incestuous cunt and she has two private, personal cockslut
slaves of her own. And she deserves them, cuntface!”
The boy looked as if he was
going to sob. “I didn’t mean too,” he almost whispered. “But she was so
gorgeous!”
“How old is she, you filthy
mother fucker?” demanded Della, the domina.
“She’s 38, mistress,” said
Jason, looking totally beaten now, before even a stroke had been laid on his
skin.
“Well, Jase,”
smiled Della, back now to her friendly way, “your mom’s gonna
be watching this program, and she’s gonna enjoy
watching you suffer for what you did to her.
“And believe me, boy, you’re
gonna SUFFER!”
Della shouted the last word,
and then moved away from the suspended slave.
“Perfect,” said Claudia,
“that’s a wrap, great sound.”
“Right, team,” said Della.
“That’s the opening segment out of the way. Let’s all enjoy a coffee while he
burns out here in the sunshine.”
And the two floggers, the
four filming technicians, the production assistant and Della walked into the
park’s canteen and the cooling shade.
Jason hung in his bonds,
beneath the blazing sun. The Rolex Oyster on Della’s wrist showed it was still
only 9.25am. Another 95 minutes before the first stroke fell!
To be continued.
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