Break of A Lifetime - Part Eleven

[orflash64]

Break of a lifetime part 11
by Goodgulf
#1781
awatcher123 Sep 12, 2015
Part 11 - Punishment Night

Walking on unsteady knees, Jane was directed to a spot in front of a frame. Trish was directed to the one to her right. Seeing Trish undoing her skirt, Jane forced herself to undo hers. She was under the eyes of God knew how many people, some of them men, were watching her undo her skirt. This wasn't like being in a locker room where everyone was stripping, this was like being stage at a strip club.
And that was someplace that Jane never wanted to be.
Trish's skirt hit the floor, but Jane held on to hers for a second or two before allow it to hit the floor.
The COs were treating things like a production line. One was walking down the line, binding the girls' wrists. As her wrists were secured, Jane realised that there was no way she could even try to escape now. Another CO came by and bent the inmates over the frames, lining them up for the best possible fit, and securing their torsos in place. Jane closed her eyes against the inevitable, but it didn't slow things down. She felt strong hands go around her waist, lifting her from her feet. Her eyes stayed close as she laid on the frame. Strong bond were applied, fixing her in place. She tried to keep her head up, but eventually she lowered it.
Resting her neck on the padded leather neck liner of the stocks part of the device.
A CO walked by the inner part of the frames, lifting the upper board of the stocks and locking in place. Jane opened her eyes only after her stock was fastened securely down. She could see Trish's face and the face of the nameless redhead inmate to the left, but little more. Craning her head she could see a few more inmates in either direction, but only their heads. Try as she might she couldn't see past the stocks. Her own body was now a visual mystery to her.


The next CO came by to fit her with the 'tongue protector'. As it was forced in her mouth and fastened around her head, Jane realised that it was less for her protection and more to render her words meaningless. She tried to curse her fate, but only a weird mumbling emerged from her mouth.
Craning her ears, she tried to hear the next CO walking past, but she couldn't. Her first hint that the next CO had reached her was when her panties were pulled down to her knees.
Jane tried to escape then. To climb off the frame or wiggle away, but she couldn't. Her body was held fast to the frame. All she accomplished was wiggling her bottom a bit and wave her legs. Then a strong hand was on her left thigh, holding it in place as straps secured it to the frame. After her right thigh was secured, Jane found herself holding her breath.
Her thighs were apart, straining the limits of her panty's elastic, and that could only mean one thing: her legs were open. Her legs were open, her bottom was at eye level, and everyone in the auditorium could look down and see between her crack. Until this point Jane could count on one hand the number of men who had see her holes, but now that number was who knows how high.
A trickle of urine ran down her thigh as she finally accepted that there was nothing she could do about this.
The crack of leather hitting skin echoed through the auditorium, answered by the wordless howl of an inmate. Jane winced as two impacts blended together, producing nonsensical howls from another pair of inmates. A wave of pain rose from Jane's left bottom cheek. Her howl was joining the others before she heard the crack of the strap that had impacted on her bottom.
The second impact produced a yelp. Jane tried to yell her defiance as the third smack landed, but she couldn't form a word. Tears filled her eyes as the question of safe words was finally settled; how could there be a safe word when you couldn't form a single word?
Trish was howling her pain one of her fears was confirmed, that this was far beyond any parental discipline she would consider courting.
Blow after blow fell as Jane struggled importantly against the blows. Almost as bad as the pain was the knowledge of how she must look. How vulnerable she appeared, with her most intimate places held open for all the witnesses to see.
At some point, the straps stopped falling. It took long moments for this to sink in for Jane. When it did, her first question was why. Why had the strapping stopped? Jane didn't play much with an eye to discovering her limits, but even she knew that she hadn't reached the limits of what her bottom could take. Not that she was comfortable, or she wanted more pain, but the pain wasn't throbbing yet.
Jane felt a hand touching where the strap had landed. Trish winced as a hand made contact with her hot flesh.
"Hello ladies. Fancy running into you here," Anton Gates said, stroking both bottoms.
Jane stiffened at the sound of his voice.
"You can consider this the halftime performance, not that we're exactly halfway through your punishments," Anton said, his fingers moving. "Now you might be wondering if I'm right handed or left handed."
Jane gasped as his fingers entered her. Trish groaned as fingers teased their way inside.
"Yes, I do have a hand on each of your asses," Anton grinned. "With fingers working inside each of your wonderful cunts. That's why you'd be wondering about which hand I use better. Well, both you cunts are lucky because I'm one of those rare people who are ambidextrous. You can lay, secure in the knowledge you're both going cum."
Jane could feel her body betraying her. Despite the pain, Anton's expert fingers were working magic.
"You both said you'd do anything if I helped you, but I didn't say what I wanted," Anton smirked. "Well, surprise! I want to see you both like this. That's why I put you both on the list for Punishment Night. Have either of you ever cum after a strapping, even a mild one like this one? Oh, you can't answer, can you? You have those things in your mouths. Well, now you're going to cum. Cum buckets. I've been to dozens of these things and I always try to make two girls cum. You two are the lucky ones today."
Intense feelings warred inside Jane. The pain of the strap, the helplessness of the restraints, the shame of being seen like this, and the pleasure of Anton's fingers.
To her immense surprise, Anton's fingers began to win out. They teased and probed her. The fingers not inside her pussy worked magic of their own as Anton pressed them hard into her burning flesh. A few times they flirted with her asshole, but mostly they kept reminding Jane that her bottom was hot and sore from the strap.
Shame swept through Jane's body, hitting her to the core. She had basically offered to sleep with Anton, and she had been ready to follow through, and being fingered was nothing compared to using her body to get a story, so that wasn't it. No, it was the fact that she was on display in front of God knew how many people and she was on the verge of cumming. On of the most private, personal act, and she was sharing it with a room full of strangers.
Three of Anton's fingers shifted, and she was no longer on the verge. Waves of pleasure cut through the pain, she moaning in a way that had nothing to do with the strapping, and it didn't matter that she wasn't alone,
She heard Trish moaning in the same way, the way she had heard Trish moaning most nights since they had arrived here. Jane had fought to moan more quietly than Trish. They had shared that room, but they had never moaned in unison before.
As their voices intertwined, Jane couldn't help wondering how many people were listening to their duet. Glancing away from Trish, Jane saw the inmate on her left was rocking rhythmical, as if someone was pounding her from behind. Cumming, Jane wondered if she was lucky that Anton was only using his hand.
Anton withdrew his hands, chuckling about the powers of his magic fingers.
"Yeah, how does that song go? 'Come on home', 'he's got the magic hands mama', something like that. Another double header for Anton and his magic fingers."
He chuckled as he left them.
Jane was floating gently in the afterglow when the strap's impact jotted her from it. The abrupt transition, from pleasure to pain ripped a wordless scream from her throat.
The strap fell again, and again, impacting on flesh that had already been strapped hard. Jane tried to struggle, but she was a helpless, just another near naked victim of the Carnacki Correctional Institute for Women. The previous strapping stopped short of her limits, but this one took her far beyond anything she had conceived of as a limit.
When it was over, Jane lay there, still bound. She was sure that she could feel bruises forming on her bottom and thighs, but she was too wrapped in her own misery to care about that. She blanketed herself in those feelings, not coming out of them until she was in the infirmary. It took being chained faced down in a cot for her to react to the world again.

Someone told her that they were just doing the normal post Punishment Night treatment, but that didn't change the fact that she was chained down.
A hand began rubbing a lotion on Jane's bottom. She tried to shy away from it, but the shackles held her in firmly place as a pair of hands worked the lotion in, massaging her burning backside. Jane yelped into her gag, but the hands didn't stop.

Then they moved, the lotion no longer being rubbed in. Fingers were entering her, some in her pussy, two stretching at her ass, which was one more than she had ever felt comfortable with. Jane moaned, and the fingers left her pussy to be replaced by vibrator, but the other fingers continued to work her ass.
"That's it, you like that, do you? You girls are all the same. Just waiting for the strap to free you from any inhibitions you might have. How many guys have been up here? A dozen? Twenty? A hundred? And how many girls?"
Jane couldn't stop herself from responding. The throbbing of her backside and thighs merged with the action of the vibrator as those hateful words filled her ears. Even as she had that thought, Jane knew that she was wrong. The woman wasn't saying that to be hateful, she was saying it because she thought it would make Jane hotter.
And maybe it did.
Jane couldn't separate the sensations. All she could do was ride them to oblivion.
Jane had heard of petite mort before, but it wasn't until she woke up in her room at lights' on that she knew she had actually experienced it. Someone had dressed her in a nightgown, and she could feel the thong biting into her battered backside.
A moan from the next bed reminded Jane that she had a roommate. A glance confirmed that Trish was laying face down on the other cot.
Trish angled herself up on one elbow, looking towards Jane.
"Last night, after the strapping, in that medical place, did they..."
"Did they ever," Jane answered.
"Me too," Trish sighed. "I think there was something in that lotion."
"Something?"
"Something more than just soothing stuff," Trish said. "Something that made me feel it more. Or maybe something to put me out of it."
"Um, but... petting mort?" Jane suggested.
"Petite mort," Trish corrected. "And I had that before. Or maybe I passed out drunk doing it, but I think it was petite mort, and I don't think... Okay, maybe, but it only last for a while and why didn't we wake up after? When they moved us, when they dressed us, why didn't we wake up?"

"Um, maybe it was the beating?" Jane suggested.
"Maybe," Trish agreed.
Dressing, the girls couldn't help checking out their backsides in the mirror, and checking on each other's war wounds. Normally Jane didn't like comparing bodies, but today she had to. There was just no way to see everything in that single mirror, she had to use Trish as her refection - which meant she had to let Trish look too.
They didn't have much time to get ready for breakfast. As they dressed, Jane learned that Trish had had a 'male nurse' while revealing that a woman had rubbed the lotion (and used a vibrator) on her.
Standing in line for breakfast, Jane was sure that every eye was on her. That everyone was seeing the marks on her thighs and getting glimpses of the ones on her bottom whenever her hem went up. Jane wanted to crawl in a hole and die, but Trish was taking things in stride. She even 'accidentally' dropped something so she could pick it up. Seeing her friend bending at the waist, Jane no longer had to image what she would like if her nightgown went up; Trish's display showed Jane exactly how she would look.
Sitting for breakfast was a new experience. Jane had never sat on a bruised bottom before, not that she could remember, and she wasn't expecting the hurt.
The day passed in a blur. Jane hated how much her exercise clothes showed. Even her normal uniform showed her fading marks from Punishment Night. Nothing could shift her mind from how people must be looking at her. Even health class, where they showed the best way to give suppositories of various sizes, wasn't enough to break Jane from her sulk.

At least until dinner ended.