Free Felicia by S. J. Lewis

struck her afresh, but it was clear that she had no strength left to do anything else. Selim eyed the space between her legs and looked at Ismail inquiringly. Whipping her pussy might spur her to further struggling, but it was still early in her training and it was always wise to hold some punishments in reserve. Ismail shook his head ‘no’ and Selim shrugged and began coiling up the whip. Ismail gestured for him to hand it over instead and pointed up at the slut’s wrists. Selim nodded and complied. All the slut did was keen and sob as she was released from the hook hanging from the ceiling. Selim lowered her part of the way to the floor and then let her drop. She made a sudden tiny noise of pain as she landed hard on the cement, and then just lay there, stretched out, trembling and shaking and crying. Ismail nudged her once with his foot. He got no reaction from her, and indeed she seemed to be in a terrible state. But there was more to be done here.
    “Selim,” he said. “Fetch a bucket and throw some cold water on this bitch. We are not done with her yet.”
    Felicia shrieked as icy cold water splashed over her naked body. Now a chill was added to her accumulated aches and pains. She spluttered as the last of the bucket was dashed into her face. She tried to move, but her ankles were still bound to the heavy bar that kept them apart and her arms felt too weak to support her at all. Limp, exhausted, her mind dulled with pain, she lay there in the spreading puddle of cold water, unable to do more than weep and shiver.
    Ismail let her be for the moment while Selim went to get his next tool. When he returned with it, he nudged the slut with his foot again, in the ribs and not gently.
    “Up, you shameless whore,” he ordered. “Up on your hands and knees or I will have Selim resume your whipping!”
    The threat stirred her as nothing else would have by then. Selim assisted her, grabbing her by her hair and pulling her upwards. She lacked the strength to do more than whimper at that. Soon she was on her hands and knees, her head hanging low, her wet hair obscuring her face, her long legs spread invitingly. Ismail saw his men all but drooling over her now, and noted approvingly that even in that position the girl’s teats were so firm that they retained their shape. The cold water had also affected her nipples in a most appealing way.
    Felicia remained still, except for the shivering that she couldn’t help. The cold water had started it, but she thought that maybe she was going into shock after the brutal whipping she had received. The pain of that was bad enough, but the humiliation she felt at having it all done before an audience was burned into her mind. It left her feeling dirty, even though none of it was her fault. She thought that she was past caring what happened next, and then a vibrator was applied to her pussy.
    Ismail saw the slut’s head come up abruptly. Her wet hair still covered much of her face, but he could see one eye, wide with surprise and apprehension.
    “Remain still, bitch,” he snapped when it looked as if she was about to move. She turned her head just enough to look at him. It was clear that she hadn’t expected this. But she was so fatigued, both physically and mentally now, that she almost certainly wasn’t going to be able to try to do anything about it. As Selim slowly worked the vibrator up and down along her cunt, her head slowly sank lower and lower until he could no longer see her face.
    “Is she ready, Selim?” he asked the eunuch.
    “Not yet, lord, but she soon will be. We will know for certain when she arches her back.”
    “Very well. Continue.” Ismail heard the slut moan once, feebly, and then moan again. Then her back arched, raising her cunt towards the vibrator. He supposed that she was not even aware that she was doing it.
    “She is ready now, lord,” Selim announced. He kept the vibrator running.
    “Excellent.” Ismail turned towards the waiting men.