ARABELLA AND THE ROD 47, girls tied stories



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When the vengeful wives had completed their work, leaving the once proud heads covered in ragged stubble, a little man, obviously the village barber, appeared, carrying a bowl and razor. The two victims made no protest as he proceeded to shave each head completely free of any trace of hair, but sat there, huddled over themselves, clasping their wounded breasts, and shifting on their welted hinds. They might even have been grateful to have the barbaric handiwork of their vicious executioners converted into clean smooth domes.
Their respite, if respite it was, did not last long. With a squeaking of ungreased wheels, a small flat handcart arrived, and the struggling blonde was seized and forced to lay her voluptuous body on its lacerated back, her raw buttocks resting on the rough rear edge of the cart, which chafed them sorely. Her arms were drawn forwards and tied to the front corners, while a stout leather strap was passed through slots in the bed of the cart and drawn painfully tight across her belly. Her legs were free but any man, or woman for that, standing between them, would have her at their mercy, and could use her as they pleased.
As the cart, pulled by several women out for revenge, set off on its round, Martha laughed shortly.
"She`ll have a busy time tonight. Some men will abstain, for their wives` sake, especially those who`ve had her already, but she`s a lush piece still, and it`s generally accepted that it`s a civic duty to punish the sinner, and not therefore fornication, and most men, married or not, will feel free to put it to her. Apart from that, I`ve seen a good few rough men from the hills wandering in and out the tavern, so she`ll get some sport there. I wish her joy of them. Mostly they make do with sheep, and each other, so their taste generally runs to buggery. From the look of Maria`s nails I`d say she can expect a sore cunt, a sore arse and a sore clit, if she has one left, by morning."
Just then the woman fanning the malevolent brass erection into life called out that she thought it might be ready. Whimpering with terror, Camilla was hauled to her feet and dragged to the other bench. The Headman stepped forward and carefully let a small gobbet of spittle drop onto the gleaming glans. It hissed and crackled, as Camilla moaned and shrank away.
"It`s ready," he announced, "and now you must cleanse yourself, Camilla, if you don`t want to be put to the cart. Bianca`s got a greedy cunt but there`s sure to be plenty left for you," he mocked, "if you can`t face the fire."
Propelled forward by women at each elbow, the wretched young woman was forced to stand astride the bench, just above the phallus, whose heated tip was poised a mere three inches below the cringing vulva. Her arms were seized, and bound, wrist to elbow, behind her back, and all was ready. Her female jailers released her and her husband came to stand in front of her. Another male, a sort of bizarre `best man`, stood behind her.
"You know what you have to do. Down on the prick, and legsstraight out in front, or it won`t count. That hot lover has to go right up."
The woman, almost gibbering with fear, flexed her knees, but straightened them at once as she felt the heat of the phallus approaching. Half a dozen times she dipped and rose, moaning all the while and then, gathering all her courage, thrust herself down. As the hot tip touched her labia, too far off the mark to make any penetration possible, she shrieked and jacked upright again. Her husband spoke again.
"You`ll have to do better than that. I want that bastard`s spunk boiled right out before I`ll have you in my bed again."
Three times more she made the effort, only to be unable to face the pain while she tried to get it to enter her terror dried orifice. Watching, Arabella felt her own belly contracting in sympathy, each time the woman dipped, and she shivered as she imagined that searing length entering her own tender sheath, but, perversely, her vagina flooded to overflowing, rather than dried up with fear, and the contractions she felt were composed as much of lust as of dread.
"If you don`t go all the way this time, it`ll be the cart for you," her angry mate threatened, but, before she could gather herself for one last try, there was an interruption by the woman who had earlier fanned the phallus to full fervour.




"Give her a chance," she pleaded, "the poor cow has done her best. You can`t expect her to get that thing started in a dry cunt without her hands. Let me grease her a bit, and then she`ll manage it." and she stepped forward with a lump of bacon fat in her hand, and pushed fingers full into the bone dry shrunken vagina.
The young wife drew in her breath in a long gasp, and then expelled it in a great cry, as she plunged herself down onto the burning brass. As the great prick plunged into her with a sizzling sound and a smell of frying bacon, her husband seized her ankles and jerked them forward, so that her full weight drove the hot brass pillar fully home, and she sat with her buttocks and thighs resting on the even hotter charcoal brazier, that formed the base.
"On my command," the husband bellowed, above her piercing shrieks, "uno, due, tre, avanti!" and, with the `best man` holding her under her arms, they hoisted her off her fiendish perch.
As she came clear, the watchers could see the inflamed red circle left by her fiery seat, but could only guess at the state of the vaginal lining. In a state of collapse, she was carried away.
Arabella could not believe that a woman could survive such treatment, and still remain a woman. She confided her doubts to Martha.
"Don`t you believe it," that worthy replied, "I`ll let you into a little secret," she said, "you may not believe it, looking at me now, but, when I was younger, and first married to the miller, God rest his soul, I was good looking enough to have my pick of the men, and I did too, until the miller had had enough, and sent me to the prong. I thought I would die, indeed for the first week or two I wished I had, but I healed in the end, and the miller got two sons on me, but I never looked at another man again."
Arabella looked at her new acquaintance with fresh interest; the woman had depths she had not understood at first. Quite apart from the relief of losing that dreadful crotch strap, though the discomfort of it paled into insignificance against the sufferings she had just witnessed, she felt she had made major gains from her pilgrimage to the village, cementing the alleigance of the peasants, and gaining a valuable ally and informant in the deceptively dour Martha. She wished her farewell, warmly, and set off back to Petraverdi, and a week of degrading, toilette-less, penance.

Physically it was a wearing week, her disgust with her own body growing daily as the lack of clean clothes and ablutions of any kind left her odorous and dishevelled, though her imagination and her proximity to her own body led her to think her scent more powerful than it was in reality.
At least one person was not put off by her befouled state. Julietta had still to attend Dame Magda every evening, returning with her now raw buttocks newly inflamed and tears on her cheeks. Arabella`s arms, scented or not, were a welcome haven for her distress, where she could sob a little before gentle fingers worked on her feminine centre to spark the shuddering eruption that eased her hurts and brought the healing cloak of sleep.
The week was over soon enough, and a grateful and contrite Countess tasted the luxury of hot water and a maid to dress her and brush her hair. So great was her pleasure that first day she suffered pangs of remorse come evening, when a fearful Julietta donned her penitent`s robe again to pay her nightly visit to Magda`s rod, nor was it less when, wet eyed, she limped back to the room they shared, desperately seeking comfort for her hurts.
All through her ordeal Carlo had been absent on family business, whether truly urgent, or a tactful way of letting her cleanse her conscience without the further embarrassment of his presence, she had no means of knowing. Perhaps, she thought wryly, he had got wind of what form her penance might take and had made sure he had an adequate excuse to keep away from her bed until she smelt less pungently. No, she corrected herself, he would not do that if he thought she needed him, however rank her person, but he had left it to the women`s court to deal with, and would never interfere in `women`s business`.




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