Holodeck Hell (part 3)



Part one here

The padded crossbeam on the frame could have been made for her; it fitted so snuggly to her hips as she lay bottom up and head down over it. She was still marvelling at the speed and ease Galen had picked her up and thrown her across it that she was taken completely unawares as he hooked both her wrists with a springy band that pulled her arms outstretched to the floor. Something too had pinned her ankles so that she could not kick back against him.

“What the hell are you doing?” she yelled as she struggled against her impromptu capture.

“I am doing whatever I choose and you will do exactly what you are told,” Galen snapped.

“Look, I am sure we can discuss this. There is no way the program could serve up such a two dimensional oaf. There must be a trick to this,” she said in a strained voice. As she spoke she tested her bonds, but as hard as she pulled neither writs nor ankles would break free of her restraints.

The paddle struck her upturned bare bottom with a burning sting nothing like she had felt before and she gasped out a yell.

Mimicking her tone he repeated her words, “I am sure we can discuss this…” he spanked her hard, and added, “my lord.” Then he placed the flat surface against her skin and drew firm heavy circles with it. “As for calling me an oaf…” the paddle struck again and she grunted.

“Okay, I didn’t mean that I just meant… ahh,” the paddle interrupted her.

“I didn’t mean that…” he snarled, “my lord.” The paddle was all pain.

Tzara sucked in air and clamped down her jaw. This was way beyond all usual safety pain filters.

“Please… my lord,” she offered, her words were becoming wet.

“Please what?” Galen said sharply and spanked her again, suggesting “Please spank my bottom,” and again. “Please spank my bottom very hard,” he spanked her yet again, “Please spank my bare bottom, very, very hard perhaps?” The paddle bit down to impart a liquid sting.

Tzara could only yell and the ride the burn by panting like a dog.

“Look, I get it, I am sorry,” she breathed at last, mortified by the tear rolling down the side of her nose.

“Look I get it, I am sorry, my lord,” Galen yelled the last two words as he paddled her harder than he had yet.

“Ahmmmmmm,” Tzara grunted and bucked her hips to the song of pain for several moments. “My lord,” she finally managed in a strained voice.

Galen studied the fulsome curve of her hips and the strawberry red stain that was burned in two ovals on her bottom.

“Who is in charge here?” he asked.

“You are my lord,” Tzara panted, thankful beyond gratitude that he momentarily paused the spanking.

“Whom do you serve?” Galen pressed her.

“You, my lord,” she answered breathlessly, her face flushed with shame.

“How long will you serve me?” Galen asked. This time he lifted the paddle and held it to his chest.

Still panting, Tzara had to think. A hard task when her bottom fizzed like an oven fire. Then she remembered. “Twenty years, my lord,” she gasped.

Galen regarded her sternly, although given her head down elevation she could not see it. “Tell me, do you really wish to petition the manumission court at the next quarter assizes to be released from your indentures?” The paddle was again drawing menacing circles on her bottom so that she had to wince.

For a second Tzara sensed some hope and almost blurted yes. Manumission meant legal freedom. Then she remembered he had said quarterly. He was hinting at possible freedom in three months. The program would pull her out by then. Meanwhile he still held the paddle.

“No Sir,” she said emphatically, “I mean my lord.”

“So you accept the justice of your position?” he asked.

Tzara again sucked in some air and then nodded. “Yes my lord,” she said reluctantly.

“So what is all this insolence about, it was not my desire to punish you so?” Galen sounded genuinely put out.

Tzara tried to pull herself back together. It is a game, she reminded herself. She had a part to play. She swallowed down her pride and resisted the urge to curse him out again. “I am sorry my lord,” she offered. “I am just not used to this yet.”

Galen nodded. This was more like it. There was nothing like an attitude adjustment for a girl. “So your punishment is justified then?” he asked.

The heat surged to her face and she clamped her jaw defiantly. “Yes my lord,” she said grudgingly.

“Alright, up you get,” he said and went to put away the paddle.

Tzara gaped. How, she was restrained. But as she relaxed and stopped straining her bonds she realised that the cuffs were loose. She almost swore aloud at her stupidity and his deception. Then suffering a renewed blush she wriggled free and got unsteadily to her feet.

“You can spend the night on the rail,” Galen said casually and indicated on of the beams.

Tzara opened her mouth to protest and then swivelled her gaze to the frame. She was not entirely sure what he intended for her. It didn’t look too bad and at least he hadn’t pointed out the beam with the pins on it. She was still trying to fathom the situation when he seized her arms behind her and manacled her hands.

“Hey,” she blurted. She wheeled to face him only to be confronted by his hard warning stare. “I mean… my lord, you don’t need to…”

Without warning he grabbed her under the arms and then without effort he lifted her out the bean so that she was straddling it. There were two foot holds that allowed her to stand and lift herself off the sharp edge of the beam, which otherwise was uncomfortable pressed against her sex and the underside of her sore spanked bottom. By standing fully on tip toes she could relieve this pressure, but that strained her already sore thighs and bottom.

“I don’t understand my lord,” she said quizzically.

“Good night,” he replied and then reducing the lights he turned to go.

Tzara was confused. This was silly. But standing on tiptoes was worse than the discomfort of sitting astride the beam so she relaxed. It wasn’t exactly comfortable and the edge of the beam pressed into her.

“Well this is embarrassing,” she said to the empty chamber. At least, she thought, she finally had time to think.


At first it hadn’t been so bad. The discomfort of sitting on hard ridge pressing into her intimate places persisted, but it only actually hurt a little. It was also disconcertingly arousing, like riding or… the thought made things worse and was distracting. By standing on tiptoes she instantly relived the ache and transferred the strain to her thighs and calves. Oh I get it, she smiled. I am not going to sleep to easily like this. By morning I will be exhausted. Well it gives me time to think, she reminded herself. “Is really the worst you can do?” She asked the absent Galen.

It was dark, but not completely. As her eyes adjusted she could see the other equipment and realised that he really could have made her suffer more. The crucifixes had narrower sharper protrusions, she noticed. No one needed to be nailed but being hung by your arms with that pressing into your intimates… well it would be worse than the rail.

She thought about the paddle-spanking and blushed. She had backed down and her bottom would be sore for days to remind her of that.

Finally she had to sit back down on the ridge to ease her legs and the edge of the wood pressing into was worse than she remembered. Looking down she saw that the ledge she was standing on could be lowered or raised; to fit different women? It could also remove all hope of relief. She swallowed. She decided to let her weight settle and see how bad it could get. Maybe next time that will be my only option. She gaped to herself. Next time, what was she thinking? Then all too soon she had to stand again.

Okay, this is not so bad, she told herself, but she was beginning to panic. ‘Good night’ he had said. What time was it? It had still been daylight before they came to the chamber. The spanking had lasted less than an hour?

“Please, is there anyone there?” she called. She hated how feeble she sounded and that her cry had been involuntary.

No one answered. She sat back down and groaned. It was getting worse, she gritted her teeth; understatement. It was beginning to hurt. She began to pant.

“Is there anyone there?” she yelled and pushed her sex and perineum off the cutting wood to stand on tiptoe again. “Please help.”

To be continued


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