#ppcevent11

Hunter appeared at Tina's cell door with a grin and a guard by his side. "Told you I'd come to visit. Ready to get out of there for a bit?"

Tina rolled her eyes as she heard Hunter speak, pursing her lips for a moment before smiling. "Totally," she mused, laughing.

Hunter gave the guard a nod and the man opened the cell. "Good. Our talk is long overdue." The guard uncuffed Tina and stepped back. Before she could move away, Hunter grabbed hold of her hair and started to drag her from the cell.

Tina felt Hunter yank on her hair the moment she was let free, and she screamed and dug her nails into his hands as he dragged her down the hall.

Hunter only tightened his grip when Tina tried to fight him, finally only releasing her to shove her over a table. With help from the guard, he chained her down, taking extra care to secure her legs far apart. "Resorting to violence isn't the answer, Tina. Besides, we both know I'm much better at it than you are."

Tina struggled but to no avail; Hunter was much stronger than she. "And you're priding yourself in overpowering a 5'3 asian girl who's been down in a cell for 7 months. I'm clapping for you if you can't tell."

Hunter shrugged in reply. "Not really. I'm much more enjoying this little game that Sebastian is playing with you, stringing you along and telling you he's going to claim you." He laughed and shook his head as he pulled a piece of ginger root from his pocket. "You do realize that you're the fourth or fifth slave he's done that too, right? For someone who prides themselves on being here the longest and knowing things, you sure are acting like a newbie." He moved away a little so Tina couldn't see as he began to carve the root in his hand into a more desired shape.

Tina huffed and laughed. "He is going to claim me," she said with resolution. "I don't see your point, and I really don't care to," she spat.

Hunter "Mm," Hunter hummed. "Sure he is. Just like he claimed Ducks? Just like he claimed Fire Starter? I wouldn't be too sure of it, sunshine. Sebastian always has and always will like being a free agent too much to settle with a claim. He's done so twice already and you see how it turned out. Besides, the new boys may give you a run for your money. If Jeff or Sam aren't already doing that." Finally, he finished shaping the root like he wanted and walked back into her line of view. "Know what this is?"

Tina shook her head. "I'm different, and you're an idiot. You don't know anything," she told him harshly, raising an eyebrow when Hunter walked in front of her and waved the root between his fingers. "Ginger," she said, confused.

Hunter almost laughed. "Just like they were all different and special to him. Yet Ducks is in my bed every night and Fire Starter's been shipped off to who-knows-where after being beaten and claimed by some crazy. We can only save one, Tina, and OCD and your blunt, pathetic attempts at sarcasm and humor are hardly enough." He waved the ginger back and forth again, tapping Tina on the nose lightly with it. "That's right. Very good. It's a present from me to you. Consider it a taste of what you look forward to every day if my fiance claims you." Hunter straightened up and moved back behind Tina. Without warning, he began pushing the peeled ginger root directly into her ass. "Oh, try and hold still for me. I promise this is going to hurt a lot and it won't be over soon."

Tina scowled. "It is enough, you don't know anything," she said quietly, trying to believe herself. She frowned when Hunter tapped her nose with the peeled ginger root, getting nervous when he came up behind her. "The fuck are you doing!" she screamed, feeling an awful stinging as Hunter pressed the ginger root into her ass.

Hunter gave Tina's ass a hard smack as he finished pushing the ginger into her. "Shut the fuck up. It doesn't hurt that bad," he said flatly, rolling his eyes a little at her. He stared at the root sticking out of her ass for a few seconds, just knowing how much it probably did hurt. "But if you're that desperate for it to come out, I'll let you earn it." He moved back in front of Tina and cocked his head to the side a little. "Interested in actually trying to earn something for once? Unlike with anyone else, nothing I give is free. Relief included."

Tina bit her bottom lip and tried not to make any noise, but it really did hurt. "No, I'm not. I'm not doing that, don't even fucking try," she told him, shaking her head.

Hunter shrugged. "Fine. Suffer then. I'll enjoy it just as much either way. Let's see, I'm allowed to have you out for an hour before I have to pay, so that leaves us with....Fifty-four minutes. I think I'll just leave that in there for the next fifty-two then." He grinned down at Tina. "How's it feeling? Go ahead, try to push it out."

Tina rolled her lips together and rested her forehead on the table, trying to ignore the evident pain. "I'm not doing anything you tell me to, I just want to make that clear," she told him flatly.

Hunter chuckled quietly to himself. "You're only making it worse for yourself. The bottom line is that you are chained down with a ginger root stuck in your ass that's no doubt one of the most painful things you've ever felt. So you either lay there and take it like an idiot or you become smart and do whatever you can to get it out. Kind of like why you're obsessed with Sebastian. You don't want to be stuck down in the cells forever so you're pretending and forcing yourself to like him so that you can survive."

Tina huffed and laughed. "The bottom line is that I'm not going to bend for you, Mr. Clarington. I'm not your fucking slave. You have Ducks for that," she spat, scowling. "You don't know anything about us and don't expect to."

Hunter "You're right," Hunter nodded. "I do have Ducks for that. He does it so well and he loves it. And he gets spoiled for what he does for me. Certainly never tied down and raped with spices." He leaned casually onto the table and looked down at her. "You forget, Tina, I've been dating Sebastian longer than you've even known him. And he's now my fiance. If you're his, you're mine as well. I don't like you so I'm going to make sure that even if by some stroke of strange that he decides to claim you, it never happens. Your squinty puppy dog eyes and pleading won't do any good up against me. So I suggest you start bending."

Tina turned her head to look at Hunter, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think he'll let you lay a maleficent finger on me when I tell him about this. I'm not doing anything for you, we can sit here all day if you'd like and the song will still remain the same. He's going to claim me and that's that."

Hunter smiled sweetly at her. "Well, just see about that, honey." He moved around to face her head on and started unbuttoning his jeans. "Now you can either open your mouth and suck me willingly and when I come I take the ginger out and it's over. Orrr I can force my cock in there, still come, and leave the root in for the rest of the hour. Your choice."

Tina shook her head and laughed. "I'm not doing either of those things. You're a bastard."

Hunter didn

Hunter didn't even bother to reply. Instead, he moved forward and grabbed her head by the hair, yanking up sharply. When she opened her mouth to scream, he shoved his cock in deep and angling his hips so there was no way she could work her teeth into the equation. "Hard way it is then."

Tina didn't mean to scream as Hunter pulled her head up, but she did and she paid for it. She shouted against him, gagging at his cock in her mouth.

Hunter ignored that Tina was gagging and pushed into her mouth, using his grip in her hair to control her head.

Tina cried out as Hunter used her mouth for his personal pleasure, knowing that she couldn't do anything about it.

Hunter loved that Tina was hating it. The more she whined and tried to fight, the closer he became and before he realized it, his orgasm was too close. He pulled Tina's head down hard and came, filing her mouth. "Swallow it all," he commanded, not moving until she did as he'd said.

Tina winced as Hunter came in her mouth, reluctantly doing as she was told and swallowing his cum.

Hunter grinned as he pulled out of Tina's mouth and tucked himself back into his jeans. "Good girl. See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Tina sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fuck you," she told him.

Hunter laughed. "Tempting, but I think I'll go find Sebastian. No doubt he's missing me already. Too bad the same can't be said for you." With that he turned on his heel and walked to the door. "Leave her like that for another twenty minutes. Then remove the ginger, unchain her, and take her back to her cell," he instructed the guard. "Oh and feel free to rough her up if you'd like. Merry Christmas," Hunter called as he walked out of the room.

Thad is brought from the cells to the courtyard by the guards where Hunter and Santana are waiting for him.

Hunter locks Thad into the stocks and then he and Santana explain why that he is being punished and why. Thad tries to talk back but is silenced by fear of what's about to happen.

Hunter gives Thad a few licks with the cane to get his attention. After that, he preps him quickly and pushes into him. Santana dons her strap-on and gets in Thad's face, taunting him and forcing him to suck the strap-on while Hunter fucks him. Thad begins to cry.

Hunter pulls out and switches places with Santana, letting the Mistress fuck Thad while he ignores the boy's tears and forces him to suck his cock. After a bit more trash-talk, Hunter comes on Thad's face.

After his orgasm, both Hunter and Santana cane Thad, the Masters switch hitting. Santana lands quite a few of her blows not on his ass, but the backs of his thighs for maximum pain, however she calls that ten licks is enough. But she can't stop herself from sneaking in just one more.

Bad Enough For You (Breath Play with Master Sebastian)

Shocking Developments (Electro Play with Master Sebastian)

Somnophilia (with Master Sebastian)

Wes had put on a dress shirt and gloves automatically when he’d heard the knock at the door that night. Though in the back of his mind he knew it was the guards coming to take him away. Wes had used Rachel without permission during the event and now he would pay the price for it. At first he thought he’d be expelled from the island, but as the guards escorted him away to solitary confinement, a much grimmer picture emerged. After two long days there without word (or food) he was taken out and led in exactly what he’d been wearing when he was ‘arrested’. A dark muscle shirt with a long-sleeved dress shirt over it, his gloves, and a pair of black jogging pants. There were no shoes on his feet and he was taken to the center courtyard and shackled unceremoniously into the stocks. It was then that it sank in. Wes wasn’t going to be expelled. He was going to be made an example of.

The Caretaker had everything planned out from start to finish. He’d taken a extra day after discovering what Wes had done to his slave to come to his decision. Little Whore had been left in his suite to avoid the incident from becoming a repeat occurrence, and he sat at his desk deep in thought. All his business had been cancelled and he’d had a special cane created just for this punishment. After he was finished, it would be clear that no one touched what was his and no one would question his decisions. After all, he had specifically stated that Little Whore was not to take part in the event. Wes had disregarded his decision and he was looking forward to putting him in his place. When it was finally time, he made his way to the courtyard, arriving a few minutes late so as to make the tension rise in both the Masters and Wes. He noted with approval that the slaves were all present as was the slave that Wes had claimed. Perfect. He made a slight gesture to the guards to step away and produced a knife out of his pocket. Moving closer, he angled his hand so that Wes could see both the knife and cold hard expression on his face. Oh yes, this would be fun.

Wes could hear the Caretaker approach him from behind. The crowd that had gathered seemed to grow deathly quiet. Wes figured out why fast. The Caretaker had a knife! What the fuck?! What the hell was the man going to do with that?! Cut his balls off??? Wes’ eyes got wide before he could mask his fear. He dare not speak for fear of more punishment. He simply cast his eyes downward, cursing his spur of the moment decision to use Rachel.

The Caretaker ran the knife along Wes’ jawline until he reached the collar. With his other hand, he held the fabric tight and sawed his way through the cloth until half of it fell limply against Wes’ back. Next he made the same motion on each arm to cut the shirt to shreds and let it all fall to the floor. And then came the gloves. The gloves that were a mockery of the ones he himself wore. The Caretaker made sure that Wes saw the knife once more before cutting the gloves wide open and letting the shreds fall to the floor exposing his entire upper body.

Wes shut his eyes trying not to imagine his bright red blood all over the cobblestones of the square. This might be the first moment of his slow death. His heart was beating fast so maybe he’d bleed out fast too. It took a moment to realize it was his shirt being cut off and not his skin being flayed from his back. Of course. The Caretaker would want a clean canvas to work with. The gloves… why why why.. did he have to cut Wes’ gloves?! The tattered cloth fell and away and Wes felt utterly humiliated as every master and slave would be able to see his burn scars. From his gnarled fingertips to the flame-like wounds on his elbows. Wes was now a monster in every sense.

The Caretaker raised his eyebrow at the scars. He’d known about the fire but he hadn’t known the extent of the damage. But no matter. Wes deserved every moment of this punishment. “I’m sure by now you have realized what you are gathered here to witness,” he addressed the group of Masters, turning his back on Wes. “In the late afternoon this past Sunday, this master decided to take it upon himself to enter unpermitted into my office while I was taking care of business to use my property without permission after I clearly stated that my slave was not to participate in the current event.” He dropped the knife on the ground and picked up the cane that had been leaning against the stocks in plain sight. “For this, he will be punished. Let this be a lesson to each and every one of you.” He brought the cane up and brought it down hard on Wes’ back not sparing a glance at him. “Do not defy me or my orders.”

Wes listened as the Caretaker explained what he’d done, but really his mind was reeling over the possible reactions of the crowd in seeing the real reason why he wore those gloves. He would be a cripple now. A leper. Someone to pity when all he ever wanted was to be feared. Now he was the one afraid. The blow to his back was a hard one and he hadn’t realized it was coming, so the sound that escaped him went unmuffled. An Ummmff came out of him and his body flinched involuntarily. This was not going to be pretty. A second after the blow came, the sting began to set it. it was terrible and kept growing worse as the seconds went by.

The Caretaker thoroughly enjoyed hearing the unmuffled noise coming from behind him. He brought down another stroke before he could tense up again just to see how he would react. If each stroke would elicit such delicious responses, he was going to have more fun than he thought.

Wes made an “urgh” sound that was louder than before because the first sting hadn’t yet settled into his back and now another sting was following it up! Wes channeled his inner anger and crushed his fear then. Those first two blows hurt like a bitch and had been a genuine shock, but the next ones he’d see coming. His hands balled into tight fists and he grit his teeth, determined to take what he could without too much noise or movement. Concentrate! His back hurt so bad, like needles were pricking his skin even after the cane had done its job. How much of this was he ti endure? And then things got worse. Turning his head to the side, he saw the one thing that he didn’t want to see. Rachel. well she must be very happy to see him helpless and in pain. It would perhaps bring her and her master that much closer together.

The Caretaker noticed the direction of Wes’ gaze and decided to step it up a notch. He landed stroke after stroke keeping note of the murmurs in the crowd. He wanted this to be a lasting impression on everyone, not just Wes.

Wes kept quiet and took the next few lashes with dignity, his face focused on Rachel, he would break eventually. The pain. The pain was so intense and each stroke stacked on top of the next it was all blur a pain after a while. Finally Wes’ face cracked and he tore his gaze away, letting his head fall down. The Caretaker might decide to beat him to death, but at least he could hide his painful expressions from Rachel.

Rachel was dreading watching this punishment. Not only because she hated seeing people — even Master Wes — suffer, she knew that whatever Master did to him, he would do to her ten times worse. A half dozen guards escorted her to the courtyard where she was forced to her knees, her wrists and ankles chained. She could see the other Masters and slaves as they arrived, but she was isolated from them, surrounded by the guards. Master was not taking any more chances with her. It was so odd seeing Master Wes in the stocks, as if he was a slave. She was by no means eager to see what her Master had in mind for him. She lowered her head as Master walked in, her heart skipping a beat as she caught the glimpse of a knife. He wouldn’t…would he?! And what did that mean for her? Quickly a guard came up behind her and grasped her head in his hands, forcing her to raise it and watch what was happening. He must be obeying orders from her Master. She watched as Master sliced off Wes’s shirt and gloves, realizing that part of his punishment was the humiliation of everyone seeing his scars. And then she saw the cane. She gasped at the same moment Wes moaned in pain from the strike of the cane, realizing that she’d been holding her breath. And then he turned and looked at her. Her eyes widened, physically unable to look away. This must be what Master wanted. For her to feel guilty, yet again, for causing someone else pain. He didn’t break eye contact as Master continued caning him and Rachel was startled by how well he was taking it. Until he broke eye contact and she saw that he was no longer taking it well. And despite everything, despite all he’d done to torture and break her, despite this punishment ultimately being his fault, she felt so sorry for him. And horribly guilty too. After a few more strikes she couldn’t bear to watch anymore. “Stop it!” she screamed, loud enough that the entire courtyard could hear. “STOP IT!”

The Caretaker instantly dropped the cane and backhanded her hard enough to send her flying backwards in a heap. “You were not given permission to speak cunt.” He pulled her upwards by her hair and backhanded her once more. “I see I was wrong in thinking you had earned the right to have a voice.” He pulled a large penis gag out of his pocket and buckled it into place before motioning to a guard to hold her in place. “Not only have you added to your own punishment but to his as well.” His eyes hardened as he picked up the cane once more and brought it down against her back as a warning. “Make another sound and I will flay you alive. Is that understood cunt?” He kicked her hard making sure to leave a bootprint on her abdomen before turning his attention back to Wes. “I see there is more than a simple lapse in judgement. That will be fixed today.” Quickly he landed multiple strikes one right after the other littering his back with welts both tiny and medium sized.

Wes ‘s head snapped over towards Rachel in surprise and he he caught the tale end of her reprimand. He himself had smacked Rachel before but now he felt something new welling up in him as he watched. Jealousy. He kept staring at Rachel, willing his pain to dull though it had not even a little bit, and waited, shaking his head a little, trying to tell her to stay out of it. Why did he even care so much? His own claim was around somewhere, watching. He couldn’t bare to look at her either. Then suddenly the Caretaker seemed to see through to the heart of the matter, that Wes had a connection with Rachel he couldn’t dare deny, and the beatings resumed on his back. It was white, hot pain on pain and Wes began to shake from the force of it. It wasn’t until he felt something hot, like warm bathwater, trickling down his spine and around his abdomen, that he let another sound go. Blood. One of this cane marks had broken the skin somewhere. He was bleeding. Wes’ vision started to double from the mental image of his back, flayed open like a side of beef at the butcher shop. He let out another choked sound of pain and each strike after that, that brought more blood, drew more, louder yelps of anguish.

The Caretaker continued to flay Wes’ back, keeping the strength behind each hit regular and even. It felt extremely satisfying when he saw the blood welling up from his skin and held his hand up to stop the medical team from interfering. They could treat him when he was finished. “This is only the middle of your punishment. You will rue the day you ever so much as glanced at something that belongs to me.”

Rachel watched as her Master immediately came toward her. She knew it had been stupid for her to cry out, but she didn’t care. She braced herself for his retaliation, but it was worse than she could’ve imagined. He hit her hard, the pain searing through her face as she fell backward. Before she could even begin to recover, he pulled her up and backhanded her again, causing her to fall back once more in a bought of sobs. She couldn’t cry for long, though, since before she could fight he was forcing a too-large gag into her mouth. She was almost choking on it and now could only breathe through her nose, her crying making it all the more difficult to breathe. She just wanted to curl up and cry, but the guards held her fast, making her look up at him and watch. She whimpered in reply to his threats, terrified of her impending punishment and treading having to watch Wes take more caning. Because of her. Regardless of whether she’d been guilty of his punishment beforehand, she certainly was guilty of it now. Then, suddenly, he kicked her hard, causing her to buckle over in pain. The guards forced her up again but she felt like she wanted to vomit. She was forced to watch as Master continued the caning, her eyes brimming with tears as she saw blood begin to trickle down Wes’s back. And it was all because of her.

Wes ‘s head was reeling and he felt so dizzy. ‘I will not pass out. I will not pass out.’ He was determined to take the entire punishment on the chin, if only to show Rachel he knew what he was getting into and that he had done it anyway to be with her. And where had that realization come from?! Fuck, he was in trouble! He looked with what strength he had back at Rachel. Maybe if he could let her see him as he was, and let her know he was trying to be strong, it would help her. But the picture of Rachel was unclear. Everything was so blurry. Tears. Hot tears were running down his face and Wes could not stop them. He did not sob or shake, he simply looked at Rachel’s direction hoping she’d see that he thought she was worth all this. In his pain and delusion he would be able to see her again, but that would never happen. Wes blinked then and looked down at the blood steadily dripping from his back. The pain was too much for him. Too much. He broke down, not the way most would break, but he lurched in his place at the stocks and vomited clear and green bile all over the ground below him that mixed with his blood. Oh. That is why the guards had not fed him. It made sense now. Wes didn’t even spit, he simply let the disgusting saliva trail run from his lips to the ground and fought hard to stay conscious.

The Caretaker brought down a few more strokes along his back before throwing the cane to the ground and stepping back. “Do not clean him up. Keep him conscious. He needs to watch what happens to his precious claim.” He backed away, gripping Rachel’s hair tightly forcing her to turn her head into him as he waited for the all clear signal.

Wes felt as though he might finally pass out when smelling salt was shoved under his nose again and again keeping him from the bliss of unconsciousness. His ears were ringing so badly he hardly registered the canning had stopped, his entire body, not just his back was throbbing in pain! His head was lifted and there was a light in his eyes. He was being examined, his vitals were being taken. Then the Caretaker was talking about “his claim” Kenna. No. No no no non no. Now Wes felt as though he was going to be sick all over again. Kenna had finally after weeks of work, relented and started calling Wes Master. She had also carved Wes Initials into her hip right in front of him. It would likely heal over in time and those marks would just be some random tidbit of scar, but it meant so much at the time. His head was focused in her direction and Wes thought he might finally lose it.

Kenna had been sick with worry all night. She’d tried to eat, tried to watch TV but with no success. She couldn’t take her mind off of what was to come the next day, and had the worst feeling she was going to come out of the whole thing worse for wear. Being led out of the suite and to the courtyard by the guards made her stomach sink with every step, and seeing Wes tied up there felt like a sick joke. She practically bit through her lip as the Caretaker cut away his clothes, revealing his scars, his most guarded secret, to the entire island. She was numb through the first hits, jerking a little at Rachel’s shouts. Was the girl nuts? Her numbness persisted until the word ‘claim’ came out of the Caretaker’s mouth. Suddenly, it felt as if her entire body was alight, flames sparking in every nerve. The guards pulled her forward, hands rough and making her still-fresh cuts twinge. Defiantly, she stared up into the Caretaker’s face, trying to push her fear down into the pit of her stomach.

The Caretaker gestured to the guards to hold her in place, face down with her ass up in the air, legs apart - the perfect position to be in for what he wanted next. “Pay attention. This is entirely your fault.” As he spoke, he unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out, casually stroking it to hardness. It didn’t take very long as the punishment had done wonders for his libido and he positioned himself behind Kenna, snapping his hips forward sheathing himself in one quick thrust. He let out a brief grunt enjoying the way her body instinctively tried to force him out and set up a grueling pace ignoring the fact that it must be incredibly painful to take someone as large as him completely dry. She was just a slave, her comfort did not matter.

Kenna let out a furious scream, more from anger than pain, though there was a lot of that too. Feeling him enter her made her stomach roll with disgust, and the fact that she felt herself becoming wet made it even worse. “Get off of me you pig!” she snapped, pulling uselessly against the iron hold the guards had on her. Knowing she couldn’t get away she turned her head to look at Wes, her eyes burning with pain, anger and strangely enough, sorrow. It was his fault she was in position and by all rights she should be furious with him, but she wasn’t. All of her anger was aimed at the man thrust relentlessly in and out of her.

The Caretaker slapped Kenna’s ass as hard as he could continuing to thrust in and out of her enjoying how wet she was becoming. “All good sluts know deep down how to please their real Master.” He changed his grueling pace to long leisurely strokes taking his time to enjoy her struggles. It made her deliciously tight and he wanted to enjoy it for a few minutes.

Kenna scowled, struggling yet again to try and get free from where she was held. “I might be a slut, but you are not my Master.” she growled, “You’re nothing but a dirty old man with more issues than a magazine subscription who gets his rocks off by making everyone else miserable.” Provoking the beast probably wasn’t the best idea, but she’d never claimed to be a genius anyways. And since she couldn’t lash out physically she did it with the next best thing, her words.

The Caretaker reached out to the guards and waited for them to put a bar gag into his hand. Never stopping his thrusting, he pulled her up by her hair and held the bar up to her lips waiting for the precise moment when she would open her mouth so he could slide it in. After a few seconds of no response, he pinched together her nose and waited for her to run out of air.

Kenna jerked her head, trying in vain to sink her teeth into the Caretaker’s other hand. “What? Can’t your aging feelings take the truth?” she snapped out before having the gag forced into her mouth. She resolutely held her tears down, pain spiraling in her chest as he continued fucking in and out of her. The gravity of what was happening was starting to hit her, and she wasn’t sure how long she could take it before she did break down in tears.

The Caretaker quickly buckled the gag into place, picking up speed as he did so. He wouldn’t give her the pleasure of coming inside of her. No, when he was ready, he was going to make sure that everyone saw him come all over her ass. At the harsh pace plus her struggles it didn’t take long for him to recognize the signs of an impending orgasm.

Kenna bit down on the gag, body shaking with exhaustion and the crumbling of her resolution. Despite her best efforts, a few traitorous tears slipped down her cheeks to splash to the ground below. She flashed a last look at Wes before dropping her head down to stare at the ground. She just wanted this to be over.

The Caretaker gave a few last hard thrusts before pulling out and aiming for her ass. He let out a mild grunt as he came shooting spurts of come all over her upturned ass and pussy. Reaching down, he stroked himself until he was sure all his come was on her ass and carefully tucked himself back into his pants. He gave her a contemptuous look as he stood, kicking her for good measure. "This is what happens when you defy me, when you mess with something that belongs to me." He reached down and raised Rachel by her hair and tugged her upwards but not enough to allow her to stand. "This is my property. Only I am to use it unless you are given explicit permission. Should anyone repeat his mistake, the consequences will be severe. This will pale in comparison. Let this be a warning to all of you." He threw her down and proceeded to wipe his hands off on a handkerchief that he pulled from a pocket.

Rachel should have known that this would get worse. But it never occurred to her that Kenna would get dragged into this too. She wondered if Master had had her punishment in mind the whole time or if he only added it after she'd spoken out. She watched as Kenna was forced to the ground and she realized what was coming. She shut her eyes but a guard quickly slapped her, telling her to keep them open and watch. She watched in horror as her Master raped Kenna, all because of something she and Wes had done. This had nothing to do with her, and yet she was suffering for it. If she wasn't gagged and restrained she would have offered herself up in Kenna's place in a heartbeat. No one deserved to be tortured by her Master like that, but at least she was used to it. Kenna wasn't. She choked back tears, wishing this would just all end but knowing that the worst part, her own punishment, was drawing near.

Kenna howled in pain from the kick, jerking and reopening her cuts. Blood wept from the still-fresh wounds and she could feeling the warmth of his release rapidly drying on her skin. Letting a small whimper out, the last of her fight left her and she slumped down, the guards the only thing holding her up.