The Bottom Line (24 page)

‘You may just as well shut up,' Debbie said, ‘because we've all discussed it and we've decided that we're going to give you a good hiding. We've drawn lots for the batting order and you're going to get it from all five of us in turn. And speaking for myself, I'm going to enjoy it.'

‘You'd better get on with it then,' I said, metaphorically shrugging my shoulders. I was still convinced that this was little more than a token charade. The idea that I might be about to undergo serious punishment didn't cross my mind. Nor did it when Howard stepped up to give me the first taste of what I was now going to get. He used his bare hand to spank me, hitting me about twenty times, not particularly hard although, I have to admit, after twenty strokes I was beginning to feel a little tender and I realised that, repeated another four times, the punishment would have quite a cumulative effect.

Later I was to understand that Howard had let me off comparatively lightly and that this was due partly to the little treat I'd given him. Apparently he and Rory had had a bet as to which of them could crack me first. They'd both propositioned me the same evening and I said yes to both of them. When they both turned up in my cubicle I set to work on the pair of them, undressing them one garment at a time but keeping them exactly parallel, rubbing or teasing after each garment came off until I had them stripped to their pants. Then I went to work on their nipples, pulling and pinching them quite hard, relishing their enjoyment and wondering how it was that so few people seemed to understand how sexy male nipples can be. Then it was time for the last garment to come off and I watched each of them in turn as I pulled down the other one's briefs.

Howard could hardly believe it, but the size of his erection was sufficient testimony to his enjoyment, while Rory was openly licking his lips. ‘Come on then, Vikki,' he said. ‘Are you really going to make it with both of us?'

I nodded. ‘So who gets you first?'

I didn't answer but knelt in front of them, weighing their balls in my hand while deciding which prick I most wanted inside me. Eventually I made up my mind: Rory could have me from behind while I sucked off Howard. I asked them both to kneel and then positioned myself in front of Rory. He quickly got the message, seized me by the hips and furrowed hard between my legs, waiting for me to help guide his prick between my lips and deep inside me. Then, as he began to thrust tentatively, I pulled the kneeling Howard close to me, placed his hands on the underside of my breasts and took his prick into my mouth, tickling his balls as I did so.

My timing wasn't good enough to get them both there at quite the same moment, but they were close enough, Howard shooting his protein-rich load into my mouth just before Rory spurted in a more conventional way. As for me, I was close to climax for a long time and enjoyed myself hugely when I finally came. So did Howard, which was perhaps why he now chose to inflict on me the lightest punishment of the afternoon.

Then it was Tracy's turn. She was standing in front of me, wearing a bikini and a pair of flip-flops, proceeding to remove the latter before walking behind me. I turned round as far as my bonds allowed me to and realised, to my horror, that one of the flip-flops was to be Tracy's weapon.

‘I hope you don't think you're going to hit me with that,' I warned her, knowing as I did that there was nothing I could do to stop her.

‘I don't think,' she said, ‘I know I am.'

‘Come on, Tracy,' I pleaded. ‘You and I are mates. Think of that day when you wanted to swim and I taught you a new stroke.' I smiled at the vulgar pun as I said it.

We had both been in the sea, Tracy wearing the usual bikini and me wearing the usual nothing. For a while we frolicked in the waves, splashed one another and then, without warning, I swam up behind her and pinched her nipples through the flimsy bikini top. She didn't know what to do at first, obviously never having had any sexual fun with another woman, but she didn't try to move my hands and just let herself float in the water while I teased her. Her bra soon came off and I held her breasts firmly with one hand while, with my other I moved underwater and began to feel inside her flimsy panties.

‘You can't do that,' she mumbled, but I went on doing it just the same, while guiding her towards the shore. By the time we were there both halves of her bikini were in my hands, as was her immediate future.

I lay down beside her on the beach, kissing her slowly and insistently with my tongue as I held her face close to mine while, at the same time, fondling a breast with my other hand and pressing a knee hard up between her legs. By the time I'd moved my lips to her nipples I knew she was on my side, but thought I might as well make sure of her for a little longer than the next vote, and besides, I was enjoying myself.

So I slowly slid down her tummy, pausing frequently to nibble the soft flesh as I went, until my head was between her legs and I began the serious work, starting by licking and nibbling her clit, separating it from the labia to use my tongue and teeth on it. I stayed there for a long time, pressing it between my tongue and the tip of my teeth as she moaned softly and arched her body towards my mouth. Only when I sensed she was close to orgasm did I use my fingers, probing between her labia and pushing a finger, two fingers and finally four fingers deep inside her, while my thumb pressed hard back against her clit. She would have come anyhow but this way the intensity of her orgasm took her by surprise, or so she told me afterwards.

And now she was proposing to thrash me with one of her flip-flops, and there was nothing I could do but stand there and hope she would go easy on me.

In fact, the first blow that landed full on the right cheek took me slightly by surprise and drew from me a little involuntary gasp. The next one, on the other side, followed quickly but I was ready for it and managed to remain silent as it landed. I heard Debbie mutter something but didn't catch the exact words. I guessed she was telling Tracy to strike harder and make me squeal, since that was precisely what happened - a much harder blow on the right cheek which made me do a little dance on the spot, as did the fourth one a moment or two later. I must have danced a little too much, since the fifth blow almost missed me completely.

‘Stand still, you bitch!' Tracy hissed at me. ‘You can have another one for that.' Since I didn't know how many to expect the threat had little meaning, but I thought I'd better pretend to behave and shrieked dutifully as the next four landed. They all hurt but not much more than Howard's persistent hand-spanking had done. I could take this, I decided, not that I had much choice, but realised it would be better for me, tactically, if I appeared to go along with whatever was in store for me.

Terry followed Tracy and used a table-tennis bat on me. He didn't hit me very hard but he covered a far wider area than the other two had done, so that when he'd finished I felt bruised from just below my kidneys to just above my knees. Even so, I'd survived three beatings and now there were only two to go, with Debbie to come next. I was sure I could cope with anything she had decided upon, which just goes to show how wrong you can be.

She'd made her own weapon, by cutting long fronds from a plant growing on the island and fastening them together at one end. It looked harmless but it didn't half sting. The edges of the fronds were quite sharp and, though the impact of each blow was relatively light, the effect of having as many as twenty sharp edges drawn sharply across my bottom was far more painful than the hand, the flip-flop or the table-tennis bat. I must have taken a dozen or so strokes when it just became too much.

‘Debbie,' I screamed at her, ‘stop! I can't take much more of this.'

‘That's not what you used to say at night,' she taunted me, which was true enough. I hadn't had Debbie in any meaning of the expression, but she'd had me a dozen or more times. She would come into my room at night and get into bed with me, not so I could give her an orgasm, as had been the case with Tracy, but the other way round. Slightly built she was obsessed by my breasts and would play with them for hours, fondling and kneading, sucking, pulling and pinching my nipples until I begged her to finish me off. Then she would use two of the appliances she'd managed somehow to smuggle onto the island, thrusting one hard up and down inside me as she pleasured my clit with the other, yet continuing to work on my nipples but now using her teeth, inflicting pain and pleasure equally but always knowing how far she could go without my screaming for release. It never failed.

But the reminder failed to work now, other than to produce another barbed comment, to the effect that I'd no doubt manage to find a few long words to comfort myself with. I had to endure another dozen strokes that merged into each other in a blurred frenzy of pain, as she thrashed me again and again with her improvised weapon. When she finished I collapsed against the post, wrapping my arms round it to hold myself upright. It took some time before I realised Rory was speaking to me.

‘Take your time,' he was saying. ‘It's my turn next and you're going to get a dozen of this.' He pointed down to his belt as he spoke.

‘No, Rory, please,' I begged him, not caring whether the others could hear or not, ‘not your belt, not a dozen. I can't take any more.'

‘You don't have any choice, honey,' he gloated. ‘I won the draw to go last so I get to
belt
you with anything I choose.'

‘Please not that,' I whimpered.

He came closer and whispered right into my ear. ‘Suppose I make it half a dozen and you come round to my room tonight?'

‘Yes,' I said, ‘yes, whatever you say, but please don't be too hard on me.'

He grunted something unintelligible, unbuckled his belt and slipped it out of the loops. The first blow was like nothing I had experienced before, searing my already bruised flesh so that I jerked violently on the rope and did a frenzied dance on the hard ground. The second was even worse and I tried to skip round and avoid the third, but succeeded only in half turning so that the heavy leather landed across my hipbone, the tongue tapping round towards my groin, making the total impact even worse than the first two blows.

I took the last three strokes of the belt in comparative silence. They were perhaps slightly gentler, perhaps my flesh was numb, perhaps it was a combination. Then I slid down the post as far as the rope would allow, waiting to be released. It was Terry, predictably, who came and untied me, helped me to my feet and put an arm round me to walk me back down the hill to my room. The walk was painful but, to my surprise, the pain had eased considerably by the time I reached my room.

After Terry had gone I felt my bottom. There were several puffy weals, presumably where the belt had struck, and a number of particularly tender areas that felt bruised, which I attributed to the cumulative effect of the flip¬-flop and bat, but the overall damage was no worse than that of having suffered a severe fall. I trusted that the injured flesh would recover fairly quickly and told myself it had been worth it to stay on the island and still have a chance of the big prize.

For the next few hours I lay on my narrow bed, dozing and reflecting. I didn't go for a meal with the others at the usual time but wriggled unseen into the stores and managed to grab some biscuits and fruit, which I ate. Then I fell asleep.

When I awoke it was only twenty minutes before my next meeting with Rory. I went into the shower room, inspected the damage again, decided I could risk taking a shower and did so, keeping my bottom out of the jets of water as much as I could, but otherwise washing myself as thoroughly as possible. Then I got dressed and walked the short distance to Rory's room.

Although it was midnight there was still a rosy glow in the sky, which I knew would last until dawn. He was wearing shorts and nothing else, waiting for me. ‘Feeling better now?' he asked, in a tone of voice that suggested he didn't much care but thought he'd perhaps better go through the motions.

‘I'll live, thank you,' I said, rather curtly.

‘Oh, I'm sure you will,' he answered, grinning at some unshared joke. ‘But you can take what's coming to you first. That's the bargain.'

‘I stick to my word,' I told him, ‘even when it's given under duress.'

‘Miss Hoity-Toity,' he said, ‘still using long words, even after what you took.'

‘It was my arse you whipped,' I reminded him, ‘not my vocal cords.'

‘I think we'd better get on with it,' he said.

I began to remove my top but he motioned to me to stop. ‘Not here,' he said. ‘I want you in the gym.'

‘Whatever you say,' I replied, thinking to myself that ‘gym' was a pretentious word for the room he'd put together himself so he could have a regular work-out. Anyhow, I followed him round to the room in question, and although it was dark inside there was enough remaining light to make out two figures who, on closer inspection, proved to be Debbie and Tracy.

‘What the hell are they doing here?' I asked indignantly.

‘You'll find out right now,' Rory told me. ‘Get your clothes off and go and lie down over there.' He pointed to an improvised item of furniture, about three feet off the floor and six feet long, covered with a rough blanket and otherwise looking like a homemade sideboard. I began to say something else but Rory interrupted me.