The two women before me didn’t lick when they were told to. They’re screaming their heads off now while they’re being whipped.
Not me.
I lick.
My husband and I had just gotten off our flight into the Bahamas. We were going to vacation at a fetish-BDSM themed resort to spice up our marriage. The last thing I remember was leaving the airport in the shuttle.
Next thing I know, I wake up from a dreamless sleep into pitch blackness. I’m naked, on my knees, bent over so that my breasts rest on the floor. My wrists are tightly bound behind me. My arms just above the elbows are restrained as well. My thumbs are locked together. A small chain between my ankles restricts them. My head and face are totally sealed in a leather hood, with only nose-holes for breathing. A short chain attached to my neck keeps me tethered to a bolt-hole on the floor. The only other thing I know is that we’re on a ship. I can feel the lurch of being on water.
I’m third in a line of women here. I wonder how many of us there are? Only three? Maybe more? Are we all trussed up identically? A woman with boots on warned us not to scream when our dildo gags were removed from our mouths. We were to be silent, and follow commands, or we’d be punished. The first two women screamed. Who can blame them, right? That’s certainly my first instinct. But they’re really screaming now. Whip, scream, whip, scream, whip, scream…
So I suppress the urge to scream when my dildo gag is removed. My head is raised as far as the chain allows it. And when I hear the word lick, I start licking. Turns out there’s a boot below my face. Leather, from the taste of it. So I’ve just been licking it. The alternative sounds much worse.
“That’s enough.”
My head is yanked up off her boot. The chain on my neck goes taut. The dildo gag is shoved back in my mouth, and fastened around my head.
“You get to move on to your training. Don’t worry, there will be pain. But…”
Whip! Scream!
“It won’t be anything like that.”
She lets go of the ring on the back of my hood that’s holding me up. My face slumps to the floor. I let it rest there. Holding it up in this position while licking fatigued me. The hood dulls the sound of her heels clacking away from me on the wooden floor. I listen as she repeats the same speech a few feet away. That means there are at least four of us. More heels clacking, more of that speech. Each sounding duller and farther away than the last. I lose count of how many of us must be chained up in here. Some still scream. Some begin to catch on, and lick.
After an interminable amount of time, my head is lifted up by the ring. The chain is unclasped from my neck. Strong hands slowly lift me up onto my feet. Must be two men. I am left there for a few minutes, with one of them holding me steady. The feeling is coming back to my legs. Then something is fastened to my neck. It’s pulled. Must be a leash. I struggle to follow without falling down. My ankles are still chained together, and I can only take very short steps. Being blind with the hood, and having my hands and arms restrained behind me does nothing for my balance. But I walk, as best I can.
I have no idea where I’m led. It seems to take forever. We must be turning down corridors. No stairs, so it’s on the same floor. I am stopped at some point. Whoever was leading me puts her arms around me, draws me in, holds me from the front. Then I feel the crack of a whip on my naked behind. I flinch into the person holding me, and scream into my gag.
“That’s what the whip feels like”, I hear her say. It’s the same woman who commanded me to lick earlier. She’s the one holding me, keeping me from falling as a reaction to the whip strike. Her mouth is right by my ear, even though her voice is muffled through the hood.
“Here it is again.”
Another blow from the whip. This one’s harder than the first one. Hurts even more. I cry out into my gag again.
“Obey, or that’s all you get to feel here.”
She holds me there for a minute or two, I think. Maybe it’s an hour, or maybe just a few seconds. With the isolation of the bondage and hood, and the residual effects of the drug from the shuttle, it’s impossible to get an accurate feeling for time. But she holds my naked body close to hers. I think she’s wearing all leather, possibly skintight. Boots, pants, maybe a corset. She’s tall, thick, strong, muscled. Big boobs, which push into me.
She pushes me off her and other hands take hold of me. Rough, male hands, if I’m guessing right. I’m turned and led forward, maybe turned again. It feels different. Whoever led me before was more patient, kept the pace slower. It was probably her. I can already tell this person is different by the way they pull me. It’s rougher, without any feeling for my well-being. The rough male hands stop me, and then push me down on my knees. There’s padding on the floor. I am then forced to lean forward and down again. The man holds my head just above the floor by the ring on the back of my hood. I then hear his voice, muffled by the hood, but right next to my ear.
“Remember your commands. Silence…or the whip.”
It’s a very rough voice. Guttural. Uncaring. Foreign. East European, maybe? Definitely a heavy accent. English is not his first language. I keep in mind what he’s just said as I feel the dildo gag removed from my mouth. I want to scream and beg and cry. But I do not want to feel that whip again.
“Lick.”
I stick my tongue out, tentatively. I expect to taste boot again. But it’s water. He then moves my head a little to my left.
“Lick.”
I stick my tongue out again. It’s food. Hard, solid, like cereal, but too big for that.
“Food. Water. Eat. Drink. All. Clean bowls, or I punish. 10 minutes.”
He lets go of the ring on my hood. I don’t expect it, and my face falls in the food. It takes a lot of effort, but I lift my face out of the bowl, and start chewing. I’ve never tasted anything like this before, but the smell is familiar…Oh my God, this is dog food. I’m eating dog food and drinking water out of a dog dish. This should be the most de-humanizing experience of my life. But right now it has some stiff competition with licking a woman’s boot. At least it’s not wet dog food. Have to count my blessings, few as they are. This stuff is hard to chew. It’s not made for human teeth. But I know what that whip feels like now, and I know that if I’m whipped enough, I’ll scream just like those other women. I chew my dog food and drink my water as fast as I can. Luckily there’s not too much.
I’m chewing my last piece when I’m yanked up by that ring on my hood again. I swallow just in time for that dildo gag to be shoved back in my mouth. I’m led somewhere else. I think it’s in the same room. My head is pushed down and I’m shoved into something. I hear a gate being closed and locked behind me. There is padding under my knees and legs. My bound wrists are pulled up, and the cuffs are fastened to something up top. I can’t move them. My feet are pulled back, and the ankle cuffs are also fastened to something. I feel something pulling on the rings on the back of my head and the front of my collar. Something attached to them has been pulled taut.
I am completely immobile now, held in place. I think I may be in a box, or a cage. That feeling of utter panic I felt when I first woke up here wells up inside me. I can feel myself about to thrash and cry. I hadn’t realized it, but the licking had distracted me from the panic. It focused me. I was so desperate to avoid being whipped, that I distilled my concentration into my licking.
I can’t help it. I start to shake, and to thrash against my bonds. I can’t talk or scream with this thing in my mouth. Some strange mewling sound comes out of me as I begin to break down in tears.
Something is opened in front of me. Hands reach in to grab my head and unfasten the dildo gag in back of my head. The gag is pulled out of my mouth. I’m just about to scream like I’ve never screamed before, when I hear that word.
“Lick.”
It’s that voice again. Her voice. All at once I stop. The thrashing, the shaking, the crying, the mewling…all of it. I focus now instead.
I lick.