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I looked at him shyly and asked in a small voice: "right here?" His reply was cold and frightening: "don't question my orders, cunt." I was offended to be called a cunt, but thought it might be part of the game, and was looking forward to some good sex. So I looked at the white floor, and bent over to unlace my black boots. As I did so I felt his large hand roughly feeling my ass cheeks, and liquid rushed down my cunt hole. I stood up again and kicked off my boots, and placed them neatly together near the white wall.
I then took off my black socks which I put in my boots, and pulled my light silk black summer dress over my shoulders, so that I remained standing under his cold gaze, looking at the white floor still, wearing only a black lace bra which barely covered my bulging breasts, and my black lace G string, which let my milky white round ass show. I had never done this before, and I felt as uncomfortable as my cunt was wet from the whole experience. So I just stood there for a minute, not sure what to do, and I felt his strong hairy hand grab the front of my bra, pinching my breast in the process, and pulling violently until it snapped open, staying in his hands as my breasts bounced free. Not quite wanting the same thing happening to my G-string, for some reason, I quickly pulled it down and threw it over my dress and boots as it rolled up.
He spread my legs, felt my pussy, and said in his impressive voice: "you're shaved, good, now walk in front of me." I knew better than to question his order, since I really wanted the sex but didn't really feel like being called a cunt again. He led me down the hallway to a huge room, all white like the hallway, that looked very clinical too, but while the hallway was totally devoid of furniture, the room on the contrary was crowded with all kinds of weird devices that I'd only seen in hard core movies I'd watch with my boyfriend.
There were metal chains hanging from the ceiling everywhere, a large table with hooks all over every side, a bunch of whips and paddles of all kinds hanging on one wall, all sorts of clamps and weighs hanging on another, a few dildos and other weird devices along with gloves and handcuffs and ropes lay on a table, and on every corner of the room video cameras were installed. He had to push me in because I wouldn't enter, then he closed the door and I saw it didn't have a handle, only one keyhole for which he'd probably hidden the key somewhere.
Panic crept up my spine as the effects of alcohol began to fade, I had no idea what to do, I was trapped, and it was all my fault. I had made this happen. Of course all these devices seemed interesting enough, but I'd never meant to try them with this stranger with the cold blue eyes. As goose bumps rose on my milky white skin and I stood there at the entrance of a torture room not being able to gather any coherent thoughts on how to get out of this awful situation, the man spoke: "bend over the table, tie each of your feet to a table leg, and close the handcuffs on your left hand", and handed me two pieces of rope and handcuffs. I froze, I couldn't just put myself to this man's mercy, I had to find a way out of this.
I opened my mouth to tell him how sorry I was to have played with him on the bus, that I'd been drunk and hadn't meant for it to go any further, but right then he slapped my face so hard I saw stars and calmly but firmly said: "do it whore." I did feel like a whore then, I was so ashamed, I was going to be punished for having played with this man. But still I couldn't move, I was standing there naked, wondering how this could have happened, how to get out of this, when he slapped me again and said, still very calmly: "I am losing my patience."
Afraid of what he might do next, still hurting and deeply humiliated by my situation and the slaps, I slowly took the ropes and the hand cuffs, walked over to the table, tied both of my feet to table legs, even though it hurt to spread my legs so wide, bent over the table, showing him my cunt and asshole, and tied the handcuffs to one of the hooks before closing it on my hand. And I stayed like this for a minute, feeling the cool air on my cunt and wondering what would happen next. He walked to the table and hand cuffed my right hand to the table, so that I was bent over it, legs widely spread, tied up, and totally helpless.
I still couldn't believe what was happening, but at the same time I could feel my cunt moistening again as I waited for whatever would follow. I realized my cunt was totally exposed to him so he could see it glistening, and blushed furiously. I blushed more as nothing happened for a few minutes, all was silent, but I could feel his cold blue eyes on my helpless body, all of it. But at the same time more liquid came out of my cunt hole. I was as turned on as I was scared by what might happen next. Then I heard the door open, and footsteps from several people, and the door closed again. I tried to turn my head to see who had come in, but I couldn't turn it enough, and at that moment I also realized how strongly bound I was, I could barely move.
A hand began fingering my pussy, feeling the moisture, lightly entering my cunt hole, and rubbing my clit, and I could feel it getting wetter and my cunt lips opening to this pleasant touch. The fear vanished as I enjoyed the caressing, but humiliation crept in and an angry blush colored my cheeks through the deathly white make up again. As the hand kept on fingering me I found myself starting to moan at the approach of a violent orgasm, but then it stopped all of a sudden, and I heard a voice with a black accent I loathed saying: "you like that white bitch, you thought you could play with Master and get away with a little caressing huh?"
Then I heard the black man walking away from the table, and I didn't even get a chance to start wondering what was coming next, for I let out a loud high pitched scream as a whip cut into the flesh of my ass cheeks. And the whip cut into my flesh again and again, as my screams grew louder and louder, and my agony worsened with each whistle of the whip lashing through the air. My boyfriend had whipped me with his belt before, but the person whipping me this time was putting a lot more force into it, and the whip felt like a knife compared to my boyfriend's belt.
It stung so hard I felt sure I was bleeding, and it seemed to go on and on, making me feel like I was in hell, for eternity. After a while my voice was gone, and to say I was getting used to it would be too much, but after a peak in the pain, it seemed to become less sharp, duller.
My tormentor must have sensed that, because as I stopped screaming and started whimpering, tears flowing down my cheeks and smearing all my make up, he directed the whip in another angle, and hit my cunt lips with it. I let out an awful screech of agony. Even with the flogging I'd just gone through, I hadn't imagined it was possible to feel such pain and not die. Both of my hands automatically tried to go down to my cunt to rub it, but the hand cuffs bit cruelly into the skin of my wrists, making an new flood of tears rush out of my eyes.
Nothing was real to me then but the pain; nothing entered my mind but the pain. And gods how I wanted it to stop. I would have given anything to make it stop, and just as I started begging miserably between convulsive sobs, after a short pause, the whip hit my cunt lips again, harder. I screamed on the top of my lungs, but it came out as a pitiful guttural cry, because my throat was on fire. My whole body convulsed and jumped as far as it could in my tight bondage.
I heard a genuinely amused laugh behind me, a deep feeling of total humiliation rushed in my mind over the pain as I imagined what my tormentors were seeing. As I imagined my tortured ass cheeks and my blood red cunt lips. Spread out for new torment. As I imagined his cold blue stare on my helpless mutilated body. I felt gentle fingers on my tortured pussy, and then I heard that deep voice I associated with the cold blue stare calmly say: "you're wet, cunt. You're enjoying this."