Continued from… Crossed (2/2)
Again he was not alone when he came back. The two men that held the water hoses earlier were with him. The three men determinedly walked towards her. The man in charge straddled her again. This time he sat down on top of her with – what seemed to be – his full weight. The other two men busied themselves with the ties on her feet. The hooks that held her feet in place were unsnapped. Rebel realized that her feet were free. Her fighting spirit surged back into her body. She started to kick, trying to get her feet hooked around the body of the man on top of her, but to no avail. She put both her feet in the same spot as where they were only moments before and pushed upwards. Her body did not move one inch. The man on top of her held her in place.
He chuckled. No, he laughed out loud. It was very clear that he was thoroughly enjoying her futile attempt to escape. The men moved towards her hands and these were untied too. Rebel did not even have a chance to move her hands. The men immediately held onto her arms. She tried to pull herself free and started kicking with her legs again, but it did not help. Resting his hands firmly on her belly, the man in charge moved backwards and changed his legs to straddle one of her legs. He sat down on her thigh, immobilizing the leg. He moved his hands from her tummy to her other leg. All of this happened in a flash. In another rapid movement he got up and grabbed both her ankles, holding firmly.
The two other men pulled her up. Rebel fought hard. One of the men grabbed her around her body and held tight. The other grabbed both her wrists and he too held tight. It took the men some effort and Rebel quite some energy, but minutes later her arms were tied to the St. Andrew’s cross again. This time she was facing the dirty cement floor below her. This cross had a vertical bar between the upper two ‘arms’ of the x-cross. Her head rested on this. Her ankles were not tied to the steel contraption. Rebel could not move her legs though, as the man in charge was still holding onto her ankles tightly.
Rebel felt a strange sensation in her tummy and realized it was because the cross was moving. She was brought into a standing position. Her feet were now on the cold cement floor. The tiny pieces of gravel hurt the soles of her bare feet. Hooks attached to the steel cross were snapped on the steel rings on her leather ankle cuffs. She was blindfolded.
Then the flogging started…
The lashes came in bursts of three – first her back, then her ass and then her legs.
The first lash caught her by surprise; the second elicited a muffled scream from her gagged mouth; the third brought tears to her eyes. Then there was nothing, only silence. Her tense muscles relaxed again. The next triple burst of lashes caught her by surprise again. It touched her body in the same sequence as the first three. The three men were standing next to her – two on the one side and the man in charge on the other. The two other men were whipping her back and legs. The man in charge whipped her ass.
More tears formed in her eyes. Another pause in the whipping. As soon as her muscles relaxed again, another three hurtful lashes made her scream. A pause. Three more lashes. A pause. Triple hurting. Tears silently slipped from her eyes. Her throat was hurting again, because of the screaming.
Rebel had lost count of how many times she had received three lashes from the three men and how many times they have paused. She clenched her teeth. By now she was afraid to relax her muscles. Afraid that the flogging might start again. She heard movement on the side where the man in charge was standing. Rebel turned her head and listened. There was only silence. Then she heard movement behind her. The scraping sound she heard was yet again that of steel on a cement floor. She remembered the fucking machine and feared that it might fuck her again.
When she felt something pressing against her pussy, she knew that the machine would soon fuck her again. But she was wrong. Not about something entering her pussy, but she was wrong about the fucking machine. A dildo was slowly pushed into her tender hole. It was pushed all the way in. Rebel had to stand on her toes to accommodate the dildo. Something snapped into place – steel on steel. Rebel waited for the fucking movement of the machine to start. It did not.
The flogging did. The vertical dildo bar stayed in place. Rebel was on her toes and when the series of three lashes harshly touched her body again, she relaxed her legs. The dildo pushed in further, almost hurting her and instinctively Rebel stood on her toes again. She was literally fucking herself with the dildo when she relaxed her legs or stood on her toes again. The men did not wait for Rebel to relax her muscles anymore before the flogging continued. Three lashes, a pause of a couple of seconds and then three lashes again. Rebel tried to count the number of lashes, but the pain made her loose her count over and over again.
She screamed. She cursed. She begged. She cried. Her back, her ass, her legs were on fire. Tears streamed from her face. And between the screaming and begging, she felt a constant level of excitement. The dildo in her pussy, moving in and out of her as she relaxed or tensed her leg muscles held the excitement in place. The man in charge kept a close eye on her. He knew what signs he should look for. When he saw her face go blank and acceptance replacing the fighting, the flogging stopped. The dildo was removed. Buckets of cold water were splashed against her back. Rebel cried out – because it hurt and because it was cold.
Water was still dripping from her shivering body when footsteps once again disappeared in the distance.
To be continued… Hood and throat
© Rebel’s Notes