Devotional

The phallus pressed into the slight girl with relentless force. Though her knuckles were white upon the floor and no rope was tied to restrain her, she did not flee. Her cries were high and pained, but she stayed where she was and accepted each vicious slap of the carved testicles to her sex with a new vocal punctuation. The instructors knelt beside her and touched her inner thighs, tracing the vivid marks they had made and covering the tips of their gloves' fingers in her thick, viscous wetness. They slapped her when she tried to close her legs again, and one touched the leather tip of her crop with extreme delicacy to her shining pearl. Instantly her wails took on a darker, fuller tone, still announcing the ravages of her body, but obviously tempered by pleasure. If that crop stayed where it was, there was no doubt how she would respond in only a few moments.

Unfortunately, it was obvious that this was not yet the desire of the instructors, so the crop was withdrawn and readied for another purpose. With careful aim so that she would not be impeded by the moving phallus, the woman's arm flashed forward and a wet crack was heard by all. This time, the girl screamed aloud in a way that caused the dome above her to ring. The other woman, intent on aiding, knelt and seized the girl's knees to hold them apart while another strike to the clit found its mark. The girl screamed louder with every stinging kiss to her pussy and beat the floor with her hands to diffuse the intensity. The sound shot through each observer like crackling electricity, causing them to turn to one another to touch, kiss and strike each other. No patron was exempt from the influence of the scene and soon the seats were a mass of writhing and moaning. One man went so far as to bend his wife double over the balcony rail and mount her in front of everyone, her many skirts flying up to reveal her naked sex.

The scene onstage was quickly reaching a climax. The girl had finally given up holding herself up and pressed her face into the floor, her ass held aloft by the phallus. Her shouts sank into the stage floor now and though she wiggled feverishly, she could not escape each blow to her clit and so vented her suffering in any way she could, by slapping her hands against the floor and uttering appalling curses. Finally, she begged in ragged screams for her release, dissolving into shrieking "please!" over and over. The instructors relented. A gush of desire dripped from her ravaged pussy while she moaned and shook. The women in black supported her, letting her fall into their laps, but still holding her against the machine. Though the speed and intensity of the machine had been lowered, it did not stop, still moving in and out of the girl, riding her orgasm and waiting for her to grow still. The women removed their gloves and petted her lovingly, brushing hair from her face and wiping sweat from her eyes. After many moments wherein the audience also gathered itself back together, they released the girl and knelt on either side of her.

One last figure entered from an alcove: a tall, commanding woman with broad, strong shoulders. Her halter was an eye catching combination of gold and bronze that changed from one to the other as she strode near the fires in their dishes. Her jaw was angular, but beautiful as she smiled at the girl, her lips stained blood-red. As though by magic, she produced a black whip from her person. It was so tightly curled in her hand that the length could not be ascertained, but if one knew where to look, the end was graced by a single tongue of leather.

"I demand one last task of you," said the woman in an arresting voice. Dramatically, she unfurled the whip with a lazy flick, but it nearly tore the air with even this gentle use. "There will be ten strikes. Count them in reverse. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, ma'am." The girl whimpered and closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip so hard it split and bled. The instructor's face softened and she knelt before the girl, wiping away the trace of blood with her gloved thumb.

"Make me proud," she said in a tender whisper that carried to the ear of each patron.

"Yes, ma'am," said the girl again, earnestly, hardly more than a breath.

Briskly, the instructor in the golden halter stood and measured a few paces away from the body of the ragged girl.

CRACK

The whip had harmlessly cracked far above the heads of the patrons which had the enjoyable effect of silencing them. Now a wall of pale, statuesque faces watched the stage unblinkingly. The players, too, had gone rigid, still holding the girl still. The two women in black looked at one another, then knelt low and bowed their heads. Above them now was the gleaming pale back of the girl.

The woman in gold raised the whip and swung it lazily above her head, her eyes wide and intense through the black mask. The leather sliced through the air like a tongue across skin and left behind another frightful crack followed by an enormous red lick spanning the entire diagonal of the girl's back.

"T-ten!"

CRACK

"Ten, what?"

"Ten, ma'am."

"Good girl."

CRACK

"Nine, ma'am!" This stripe exactly crossed her back producing a fiery X on her flesh.

CRACK

"Eight, ma'am!" The marks continued to overlap so that her entire back became a furious red.

CRACK

"Seven, ma'am!" No sound could be heard besides the machine, which continued to thrust relentlessly. The air felt disturbed, as though it contained something frightening but waited without sound. The reverberation of the whip took a long time to fade.

CRACK

"Six, ma'am!"

The woman in gold lowered her arm and stood still while the girl pressed her face to the cool stage floor and moaned quietly. She watched for a brief moment with a curious expression at her lips, and then made a sign to one side. A high, loud electric whine burst from the machine, which shook slightly. Even the woman looks at it sharply and took half a step away, but the girl for whom it performed did not. In fact, she made no movement or sound at all only continuing to brace herself with her knees apart and breathing heavily enough that her ribs could be seen expanding and collapsing from the back row. The phallus began to move at such a damaging force that the girl lunged forward with each powerful thrust. Her grunts of pain were dark and low. The alarming whine faded, but did not disappear, so the woman resumed her position, brandishing her whip.

CRACK

"Five, ma'am." The flesh had not had any time to soothe itself, so apart from the brief white line on her back, this strike was difficult to discern from the others.

CRACK

"F-four, ma'am." A thin red line blossomed when the initial white strike had faded. The whine of the machine was still audible and peaked oddly after the whip crack. The girl's whimper was lost.

CRACK

"Th-th-three, ma'am!" The whip carved open a cut on her back that began to bleed at once. The crimson trickled down the girl's trembling side and splashed on the ground. Water from her face fell closely after. The ladies in black glanced at the pool quickly, then up at the woman in gold whose arm did not waver.

CRACK

Silence. Only the keening of the machine, high and loud.

CRACK!!!

"Two! Two, ma'am!"

The stage had many dark spots. The girl swayed dangerously, but kept her knees. Her legs were still forced open by the phallus and she looked up at the woman in gold with wide eyes. The machine worked on, pounding rhythmically against the wood, shaking her ravaged body. A breath, and then the black tendril swung through the air again.

Nothing. The whip sailed through the air, but did not make a sound. The woman in gold gritted her jaw, breathed heavily enough that her halter creaked, and then drew her arm back again.

C-C-CRACK! This strike split the air unlike any before. Many recoiled from the terrible sound which echoed in the dome.

"....one..."

"You may cum! Do it! Now!"

Instantly, the girl screamed as though her skin were being peeled back from her flesh, as though the bones in her toes were being broken one by one, a scream of unbelievable agony, but her body was rocking every direction, her pelvis grinding back into the phallus with a single-minded focus. Great rivers of sweat dripped from her skin and flew out from her body in every direction, and her hair tossed back and forth in a storm of passion. The women who had been holding her dived away from her powerfully thrashing legs. Her shrieks rang on, delivered to the patrons' ears by the acoustic dome as though she were in the lap of each person. It was too long, surely it was too much.

But her orgasm continued, spiraling around and around again, her cries not seeming to lessen at all. Every participant in the room swayed back and forth with her, all holding their breath not to miss the moment of its end. The hanging curtains seemed to shiver with the sound, the golden banisters vibrated, and it would not stop. Women were beginning to swoon, clutching their breasts. Men leapt to their feet, standing rigid with anticipation. The machine flashed. A crashing noise heralded its fall, one side collapsing completely and breaking two boards of the stage, causing a few more people to scream with fright. When the screams overlapped the horrific noise in a discordant maelstrom, all were blinded by a shower of white sparks and silence finally fell. She laid still, limbs askew and hair falling, skin the color of deepest rubies and still sparkling with sweat; her fingernails torn after having left bloody trails upon the wooden stage. The girl lay completely still... dead.