Julia Enslaved by Victor Bruno

Author:Victor Bruno [Bruno, Victor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780513584
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 1978-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

She will get two strokes for every

turn of the wheel she is short

‘Click’,

105 had been reached...

Quentin glanced at the dial. There was but five minutes to go. Rebecca had no chance of reaching her target. 15

turns in 5 minutes at the end of stint, was just not on. All the same, the groaning woman made a supreme effort. As the dial reached ‘60’ and the a bell rang, the flap registered

‘115’.

Five too few turns, so Rebecca had earned herself ten from the rod for her ‘failure’!

Her head hung, her shoulders heaved, her breath rasped stertorously. She was as near complete exhaustion as made no difference. Miss Judith moved forward and took down the rod.

It was three feet long, highly polished, and a little thicker than the one Quentin had used earlier on Julia.

“Right, slave” said Miss Judith, measuring the ample rump with the rod, “you will now complete the task your Master set for you!”

Somehow, Rebecca pulled herself up out of the depths of her exhaustion and set her trembling legs in motion again.

‘Click’.

116 had been reached...

Instantly, Miss Judith whiplashed the rod twice across Rebecca’s bottom... setting it writhing frantically as gasping screams filled the small room. For a moment, in her agony, the woman literally hung from her wrist manacles.

“Move it!” bellowed Miss Judith.

Somehow, only she knew how, Rebecca set the treadmill in motion again. Slowly... slowly it turned...

‘Click’.

117... had been reached...

And once more the rod bit viciously into the ample flesh.

Three more times the performance was repeated. It was incredible that any woman in the state Rebecca was, could make such efforts. Yet she did... she did...

The over-riding factor was pain.

Yes... sheer pain was the driving force.

And, when at last it was all over, Miss Judith released the near-fainting woman from her manacles. The heavy body slumped to the floor, Rebecca sobbing piteously.

Then they simply left her there.

“I’ll have her taken back to her cell later,” said Miss Judith, as they sauntered out... the overseer carefully locking the door behind them.

To say the least, Quentin had been impressed by what he had seen that morning. Gunnar Svenson even more so!

“Has Julia ever been on the treadmill?” asked Quentin, when they had regained the pleasant warmth of the sundeck, where refreshments awaited.

“Not that I am aware of,” answered Madame Vesta, glancing at Miss Judith. The overseer shook her head. “Do you want her to?”

“Well...” said Quentin slowly, “it’s something to be considered, isn’t it? I’ll think the matter over... and let you know.”

“Just as you like,” said Madame Vesta, rather primly.

Then she snapped her fingers... and shapely young Marisa came running to serve them the drinks which had already been set for their enjoyment.

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