Free Dominating Jess: A Fantasy Fulfilled Novella by Rachel Nixx

the spreader bar keeping my feet immobilized, I
was completely helpless.
    I heard men’s voices behind
me. Jake looked over my shoulder, and his smile grew wider. “Oh, good. Maybe
they can help. I have to admit my arm is getting a little tired.”
    No, no, no... At least
Jake knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t give the crop to just anyone, would
he? And when was he going to undo the spreader bar so that I could pee? If I’d
been anywhere else, doing anything else, I’d have crossed my legs, hard. But
right now, my legs were in the opposite position.
    Jake called out a
greeting. I couldn’t see them yet, but they called something back to him. An
exchange occurred which I didn’t understand, and Jake nodded in satisfaction.
    “I told them what a
whore you are and apologized for you taking up room on their path.”
    Three men came into my
line of sight. All three appeared to be in their late twenties or early
thirties, wearing faded denim jackets and dirty blue jeans. Two of them were
carrying fishing poles, and the other held a plastic bag of what might have
been food. All of them had blue jungles of tattoos on their fingers and necks.
    The one with the
shortest hair said clearly, in English, “Slut.”
    Jake nodded
approvingly. “Exactly. She’s a slut. I’m sorry I can’t give you the crop, but
you would like to try this?” He held out what looked like a ping-pong paddle covered
in black rubber and spoke, pointing at my legs. “There you go, friend. As hard
as you like.”
    I closed my eyes,
keeping them that way until I heard a tssk from Jake. Right. Open. Open
eyes, as open as my legs.
    The man didn’t waste
time. He swatted my legs, gaining force with each tap until his taps were
slaps, and then blows, and he kept it up until I was screaming behind the gag.
I knew there must not be an inch of my legs that wasn’t bright red. Within a
few minutes (or an hour, time was so slowed for me now), he was sweating with
the exertion, and so was I. Blow after blow he rained down on my legs. I could
take it on my calves, but when he hit the backs of my thighs, I dug my nails
into my palms as hard as I could, trying to keep from making the noise that was
obviously exciting him. But when he moved up, hitting my inner thighs that were
so available to him with my feet so far apart, I screamed again. His face was
almost purple with excitement, and he grinned at his friends. The biggest guy,
more than six feet tall and almost as wide at the shoulder—was rubbing
himself through his jeans, almost as if he didn’t know he was doing it.
    “Now stop.”
    Mercifully, the man
with the paddle stopped at Jake’s command. I cast my eyes at Jake again,
begging him silently to remember that I had to pee. I couldn’t hold it much
longer. I didn’t give myself another sixty seconds.
    “Oh, that’s right,”
Jake said. “She has to urinate.”
    The man with the
paddle translated to his friends, who laughed. One crossed his legs and
mimicked my face which apparently looked as frantic as I felt.
    “Do it, then, whore.”
    I raised my eyebrows.
Surely he would take me somewhere, as least behind a tree. Wouldn’t he? Being
naked, being whipped was one thing, but the humiliation of urinating in front
of these men wasn’t something I was sure I could handle.
    “Do I have to tell you
twice?” His voice meant business, and my stomach clenched.
    I couldn’t squat. I
was stuck, upright, balancing on the outer edges of my feet.
    Without warning, Jake
yanked my nipple chain, and the left nipple clamp flew off. The scream felt
torn from my throat in the same way the clamp had been ripped away.
    “I’ll make you feel
every single second you delay obeying me.”
    I relinquished my
bladder control. I pissed like a race horse. The urine came out at such a
velocity that it shot straight forward for a few seconds, as if I were a man.
    The three fishermen
convulsed in laughter at this, guffawing and slapping each other on the
back.