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PUNISHMENT 120 – Part 15, Jason
fronts up for more
The following day dawned
bright and sunny, and Della – as much as she had enjoyed the training center
visit and watching the lovely Simpson undergoing his ponyboy work with Sadie –
wanted to get the latest chapter of her high-rating Punishment 120 program wrapped.
Karla had spent the rain
delay day with the camera crew filming a few of the veteran slaves being put
through paces in one of their gruelling route march tortures.
The girls had come back with
some terrific footage, which Karla reckoned could be used as a special
“one-off” documentary about life and work at Punishment Park, with Della doing
the voice over.
“I thought we could call it
something like Route March Misery,”
the lovely production assistant told her boss over breakfast. “There’s some great muddy shots of one of the C-Ds flogging,
then raping one of the cocksluts. Really nice, rough stuff.”
“I thought you didn’t like C-Ds,” said Della,
forking some scrambled eggs into her mouth.
“They give me the creeps, to
be honest,” said Karla, “but I’ve got to admit when it comes to sadism the
chicks-with-dicks certainly know what it’s all about.”
Della promised to ponder the
matter, after she’d seem some of the scenes the trio had shot, along with
Claudia’s bound to be brilliant sound track.
“Now, let’s focus on
cockslut’s chest flogging,” said Della. “The flogging team all organized?”
Karla nodded, sipping on her
mug of piping hot coffee. “They’re all ready to roll, and they look
magnificent,” she told her boss. “Sometimes, honest to god, I wonder where you
get your ideas.”
Della smiled. “Wait till you
see what I’ve arranged for the finale.”
Karla raised her eyebrows,
but Della shook her head. “No fuckin’ way, it’s gonna be a surprise. Now, I’m
getting into my outfit for the day, then you can take
me to the whippers!”
Back in their sumptuous
suite, Della picked a little leather outfit for Jason’s upper chest flogging.
It consisted of slim leather straps and left the centers of her breasts naked,
the nipples free and exposed to the elements.
At her crotch a sort of
g-string was made of similar strips of gleaming black leather, none of them
covering her mons or pussy. On her feet she slipped black leather boots which
came to less than half-way up her shapely calves. A peaked cap, in strict
military style, completed her erotic attire.
“Fuck you look bossy!” said
Karla admiringly, then she went with her lovely boss
to where the floggers-of-the-day were waiting for them.
She smiled at the two women.
“OK, you both look the part, I must say. Now Jason is all ready in position, I
thought we’d go directly to him in bondage, run the opening credits up over his
naked body, and then I’ll introduce you two, happy with that?”
The two women nodded, and
Della walked over to the torture area, where a naked Jason was strapped, sweaty
and hot, quivering slightly as he waited for filming to begin.
His wrists were strapped
into restrainers, and the straps went back to poles set in the ground behind
him. His ankles were similarly bound, the lengths of leather going back to the
poles. But a sort of leather-ended prod had been placed in between the poles,
and this was at a 45-degree angle going to the small of the slave’s back.
It pressed into his flesh
and its purpose was, of course, to thrust his upper chest out towards the whips
of his tormentresses. His skin gleamed, stretched taut and bronzed in the
bright Arizona sun, the rain and clouds of the previous day a distant memory.
Della inspected his upper
back, buttocks and the backs of his thighs. The medical team at Punishment Park
had done wonderful recuperative work on his slutflesh. Marks were still there,
but fading fast.
“Hi, Punishment 120 fans,” Della said, breezily and confidently into the
camera aimed at her by Penny, “and welcome to where Jason take it on the chest.
But fuck Jason, let’s talk now to his whip mistresses
for today’s episode!”
With that, Della walked over
to the two, triple-lash wielding women.
“And ladies, do you think
you know enough about how to flog a cockslut to appear on my program – I don’t
deal with amateurs, you know!”
The two erotically-clad
women laughed.
Then Della stepped in
between the two and informed the camera: “I am, of course, viewers, just joking.
Let me introduce you to Priscilla Payne, the camp commandant here at Punishment
Park, and her chief training officer, Helga Schneider!
“Sorry about my little
teasing, ladies!”
Priscilla laughed. “We’d
expect nothing less, Della, and on behalf of Helga and myself, may I say how
pleased we are that you’ve given us the privilege of this guest appearance on
your show.”
Della smiled at the
lush-breasted beauty, who was wearing a black PVC catsuit, with cut-outs at
crotch and breast, and a strict military cap on her head. This was, of course,
against the tradition that P-120 floggers went naked, but Della had decided
that in the case of Priscilla and Helga, exceptions could be made.
“Tell viewers something
about yourself, and your qualifications,” she asked the commandant.
Turning to face the camera,
the Englishwoman said: “Hi, fans of P-120, I’m English, as you will have
gathered, I’m 45, and I used to be in charge of a house of domination in New
Washington. And while I get bogged down in a lot of paper work, every now and
then I like to ‘keep my hand in’ as it were by wielding this!”
And with that she slashed
her triple-thonged cat through the air.
Della turned to the German,
who was clad identically to her boss, except her shiny PVC outfit was in red,
not black.
“Tell us about yourself,
Helga!”
“Hi, viewers,” she said,
with that slight accent, “I’m from Germany, I’m 40, and I used to train
dominatrixes at establishments in Berlin and also here in New America.
“Unlike the camp commandant,
I get plenty of opportunities to exercise my whip arm on new trainee slaves –
as the cunt Jason’s soon gonna find out!”
Della smiled back at the
main camera. “And speaking of the soon-to-be-flogged slut, let’s have a few
words with the cunt in question!”
The bare-nippled,
crotch-revealing domina marched over to Jason’s position of pain.
“Hi, cunt,” she smiled.
“Looking forward to our getting to work on your front?”
The lad looked a picture of
misery. “Not exactly, mistress,” he managed to reply, in more of a whisper.
Della reached out with one
hand and grasped the slave’s dangling nut sac, then
squeezed it inexorably.
A scream rang out.
“Speak louder, cunt!”
screamed Della, as she relinquished her grip.
“Not exactly, mistress,
sorry mistress,” bellowed the bondaged pain slut.
“That’s better,” said Della.
“Now we’re all going for a nice cup of coffee and some cookies until you’ve
spent your two-hour wait. This position comfy, cunt?”
The lad shook his head,
again a picture of misery. “No, Mistress Della.”
“Good,” smiled the TV
presenter, “because it’s not supposed to be!”
Back in the canteen, over
mugs of coffee and cookies, Della looked at her assistant. “The kid organised,
Karla?” she asked the bikini-clad beauty.
“Yep, he and Sadie are all
ready and rarin’ to go – well, I don’t about the kid, but Sadie sure as hell
is,” laughed the lovely 18-year-old.
From time to time, the crew
followed Della out into the sunshine to give Jason his “refreshing” cool drinks
of piss, and then the clock was ticking down to whipping time.
The crew gathered, cameras
were aimed, and the busty dominatrixes stood in front of the naked,
sweat-pouring slave.
“Right, Jason, same as the
three before,” instructed Della, “a nice strong voice on my count to beg them
to whip you. Ten, ...” and she counted down to zero and then the obedient nude
slave called out for Mistress Priscilla and Mistress Helga to flog him.
Both women’s arms went back,
the triple-lashed floggers trailing almost to the ground, but suddenly Helga
put a hand up.
“Hold on, madam commandant,”
she called, “but there’s something not right, but I can’t quite put my finger
on it!”
Priscilla entered into the
taunting “game”.
She peered intently at the
naked lad, his balls bunched painfully in his red rubber spiked pouch, attached
to his anal intruder, then smiled.
“I can, Helga,” she said,
with a smirk, walking forward and running her fingers over his pouched
testicles, increasing his anguish down there.
“This cunt’s not erect. OK,
that’s fine for when he’s being whipped by floggers behind him.
“But when he can see our
lush, busty bodies standing in front of him it’s the height of disrespect not
to display a fuckin’ erection, don’t you think?” said Priscilla.
Helga nodded
enthusiastically. “Fuckin’ right. It’s SO fuckin’ rude,
boss. What do we do? I know one way of getting him to display a stiffy, but I’m
fucked if I’m gonna put that prick in MY mouth!”
Priscilla laughed. “I don’t
think you’ll need to,” she smiled. “Help is on its way – look!”
And the camp commandant pointed
to where, from the bunker, came guard-trainer Sadie, with her new trainee,
Simpson, his balls pressed into the grabber’s painful grip.
“Hey there, Sadie, get
here,” called Priscilla. “Who’s that you’ve got there.”
Sadie pushed the naked
17-year-old into the torture area, where cameras swung to his sturdy, strong
young body and magnificent cock.
“This Simpson, a new trainee
slave,” said the girl, wearing a little red PVC bikini and matching booties.
“May we make use of him?”
asked Helga.
“Sure,” said Sadie, passing
the grip of the grabber to her immediate superior officer, “he’s all yours!”
The lad stepped nervously
onto center stage and looked warily at the bondaged Jason.
“Now, Simpson,” said Helga,
explaining the situation to the teenager as if he was a mental retard, “we’re
gonna start flogging this cunt in a minute, but we can’t start until he’s got a
boner, because that’s fuckin’ disrespectful.
“So we want you to get him
hard. Just use your mouth, cuntslut!”
Just then the lad let out a
wail of agony, as Helga squeezed the grip and pain poured through the
17-year-old’s scrotum. The lad looked towards his trainer, and appeared about
to burst into tears. The pert little blonde merely nodded her head, brusquely.
Then, closely watched by the
cameras, the brown-haired boy choked back a sob and went on his knees in front
of the blonde boy, cupping his buttocks with his hands. Then, the younger
teenager started to commence fellatio.
“That’s it, cocksucker,”
jeered Helga, “really work on it, the cunt loves having his prick brought to a
hard-on by a slave’s wet mouth. Come ON – work on it, dive down on that shaft,
you fuckin’ faggot!”
About a minute after this
command, Helga hauled on a clump of the 17-year-old’s dark hair and dragged him
from his object of oral worship.
Della saw a glistening
hard-on, the veins standing out in sharp contrast to the smooth prick flesh,
and thought it looked a very fine erection, indeed. But Helga was in charge of
this humiliation for both slave boys and still she was not satisfied.
“Harder, suck HARDER, slut!”
she snapped, forcing Simpson’s head back onto the cockflesh. Again he commenced
to fellate the 18-year-old.
A minute more, another cock
inspection, and finally Helga was happy.
“Back to your trainer,
cunt,” snapped the trainers’ commanding officer, with a boot to the boy’s
backside, and a thankful Simpson crawled back to where Sadie again took hold of
his grabber.
Then the lovely,
lush-breasted beauties started their flagellation of the now proudly-erect cockslut.
Their triple-thonged floggers flayed through the air, whistling as the
approached the muscled target, then making splatting
sounds as leather met skin.
The fury of their attack was
as if they were making up for the time it had taken Simpson to make the slave
sufficiently hard. For the first 10 minutes, Della made it nine or 10 strokes
every minute.
Given that tempo it came as
no surprise to her that by the 11th minute a burst of screaming erupted from
Jason’s lungs as the whips left criss-crossed patterns of vivid red weals over
his flesh.
That the boy had been
sobbing, tears streaming down his pretty cheeks for some three minutes before
this initial scream, came as no surprise to the lovely
TV presenter, either.
The chest flogging went
pretty much to plan. Della “refreshed” the cockslut twice during his first hour
of whipping, and Helga called on Simpson to be brought back to the sobbing
slave’s cock once more, but his attempts to produce a hard-on failed miserably.
To “spice” up the program a
little, Della ordered the 17-year-old newbie to be given some excruciating
squeezing on his nuts by the pretty little Sadie.
Finally, the blonde Jason’s
two-hour whipping ordeal ended – after a brutal, 936-stroke torture, which
produced weals, welts and finally some blood-spurting lacerations.
The next two-hours of pain,
as the lad was held in his awkwardly forced position was interrupted four times
by Della allowing him the “pleasure” of drinking down large glasses of her and
Karla’s golden nectar.
Then the agonising horses’
urine segment was filmed, Della chatted with the two whippers for the finale,
had a brief word with an exhausted whipped cockslut, then signed off until the
next week’s show – but for Jason, of course, the next day’s tortures!
Still, as Della laughingly
told him, as she grabbed his rubber-pouched testicles in the sign-off segment:
“Don’t worry cunt, just the fronts of your thighs and then it’s the BIG finish!
“And I do mean BIG!”
Della smiled to herself as
she posed by the lad for the picture that would be freeze-framed over the
closing titles. The pitiful cunt was sobbing ......
To be continued.
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