Kara is Whipped and Used

The whip lashed out suddenly, the coiled leather length loosed a sharp crack as it snapped home against Kara’s right breast. The ginger-haired woman convulsed, her body shuddering in pain.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Isabel snarled. “You have no idea what you’re saying. You think you can judge me? You think you have that?”

“More than anyone else…” Kara gasped.

The whip licked out a second time, coiling about Kara’s left leg. The tip caught her inner thigh and left a deep, red welt. Kara spasmed, giving a loud cry of pain that made Isabel’s blood race.

“No more running, Kara. No more games. No more putting it off or escaping your fate. Today I’m going to break you. I am going to break you totally. Today is the day that I finally make you into the little slut you’ve always secretly wanted to be.”

Kara gasped, her chest rose and fell quickly. Her nipples were hard. With her hands behind her back, **** to stand on her toes, she had no way at all to protect herself from the whip. She looked to Isabel, her face was a mask of defiance.

“You won’t break me.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

The whip snarled! It kissed her left breast and Kara screamed. Isabel brought it shrieking around and it coiled about her right! The third stroke got her on the nipple, tugging at her piercing as it withdrew. Kara’s cries filled the room, her eyes widening with each blow and each strike. The singing whip lashed out against her body, striking a dozen times and giving her no time to rest, recover or even think.

The sound of her cries was like music.

Isabel gave her no rest. The swishing, flicking tongue of leather cracked and scythed against her body. Kara was marked with red; her skin welting under its touch. She danced with every impact; her body shuddering in response to the flaring pain. Her breasts jiggled, her face grew taut. There were tears in her eyes and by the time that Isabel slowed down, she was gasping desperately.

“Not so brave now,” Isabel said. “Are you?”

“I….” Kara licked her lips. Her face was pale. “I’m better than this. You won’t… you can’t break me again. Richard will come...”

“Your boyfriend?”

Isabel’s face twisted into an ugly look. “Do you really think that he’ll save you? Do you really think that he cares? You were meat to him! A fucktoy to use and discard! He won’t even care that you’re gone! The only thing he’ll miss about you is the feeling of your whore-pussy wrapped around his cock.”

“You’re wrong…” Kara gasped. “You’re so, so, so wrong… Richard cares about me and he won’t give up. He’ll come for me and when he does, Isabel, I just hope that you’re not here.”

“Threats? I’m not impressed. I have Pump.”

“I made Pump! I know what he can do! And believe me, when Richard tracks us down, you could have an army of Pumps and the end would still be the same.”

Isabel sneered, but a shiver traced a cold path down her spine. It wasn’t in Kara’s nature to make idle threats, and Isabel had also noted how she had shaken off more of her programming. Before, on the ship, Kara had been a quivering wreck. Barely able to fend off her automatic obedience.

Now? She was arguing! Making threats! Even with the ability to shake off the machine, she shouldn’t have been able to do it so fast!

It was Gearheart! He was her source of strength. Without him, Kara would be putty in her hands again. With him, she would resist. But Isabel was not concerned. Even if Kara was resisting her, it just meant the process of breaking her in would be longer.

The end result would still be the same.

“Spread your legs for me, Kara.”

Kara mustered her defiance, her eyes moving from Isabel’s face to the whip. The urge to refuse had to be strong but they both knew it wasn’t really an option. Isabel could easily spread them herself or have Pump do it and tie her that way. It was more humiliating to make Kara spread them but no matter what, it would happen.

Slowly, reluctantly, Kara did as she was told. Her legs spread, and the raised mound of her vulva was exposed. Her labia were swollen and red, a bead of arousal marked her slit.

“You always were such a sub,” Isabel chuckled. “At least part of you is glad to be back in my hands. Really, the programming wouldn’t take so well if you were not so receptive. Isn’t this always what you wanted?”

Before Kara could answer, Isabel brought the whip up, gently this time; the leather kissed her tender pussy. She traced the path between her lower lips and splayed them just slightly. Kara gave a ragged moan, her eyes pressed tightly closed.

“This part is going to hurt,” Isabel said. “But then, you knew that already.”

________________________________________________________________

Pain screamed through her body as the whip cracked against her pussy. Kara cried out, her eyes were wide; her muscles convulsing at the blazing sensation which buzzed through her with every crackle and kiss of the whip against her pale, naked skin.

every touch was a wave of agony; a trailing caress of bladed delicacy which played against her sensitive vulva. Her pussy burned, each strike harder and faster than the last, driving the thoughts from her mind until all she could do was desperately hold on.

It was like nothing she had ever felt before; even when she had played with pain, she’d never been brave enough to go so far! Her legs shook; the rope around her arms and the collar about her throat pulled tight. The whip cracked and crashed against her; making her jump and flinch and flail and whimper.

Pain flashed, bloomed, crackled and danced along her nerves. There was no break, no respite. Isabel laughed as she brought the whip home again and again against her most sensitive area. Punishing her pussy and her lower lips, striking and wheeling and making her squeal and gasp and moan.

Kara tried to be brave. She tried to be strong, but such efforts were doomed from the first moment. The very instant the whip stroked the skin of her pussy for the first time, she knew she had no way to endure this. It seared through her mind, it tumbled across her thoughts. It writhed through her body and sang between her nerves. The pain, the anticipation, the thronging, stinging strikes.

Crack!

The whip came down again! Her whole body jerked.

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

“Not so bold now, are you?” Isabell grinned, the weapon finally coming to a stop. Kara sagged forward as far as the ropes would allow; her body now covered in a sheen of sweat and marked red by the kiss of the leather. She was gasping, pain radiated through her. Filled her up. She could only barely think.

“I think I like you more this way, Kara. Maybe I should whip you more often? Not too much. Though. We don’t want permanent damage.”

She trailed the whip between Kara’s legs, enjoying the low moan that her captive made as she felt it parting her labia.

“Had enough, yet? Do you want to beg for mercy? Apologise to me. Apologise and beg to be my little slut and I promise that I won’t whip you anymore.”

Kara tried to speak but no words came out. Her body was a pulsing mass of pain; the places touched by the whip - her nipples, her breast and her pussy - burned with a tight yet acute pain. She was gasping, trying to gather her thoughts. She felt helpless, pained, captured and pinned. But part of her - a deep, dark part - was sniffing the air. Alongside the pain, she felt arousal. An aching want between her legs. Her pussy was wet; the lips of her labia spread. Each strike of the whip had brought a surge of heat to her skin that had nothing to do with the pain.

The whip came again.

Crack!

Kara’s back straightened, agony flensed her like a knife. The whip cracked against her left breast, stirring it into a wild dance. It wrapped around her nipple, and the pain made her eyes snap shut. Then it lashed against her pussy, the impact knocked all thoughts out of her but one.

She was so turned on.

Was it something she’d had before? Was it something the machine had given her? She didn’t know and at that moment, she didn’t care. Kara clung to it, using it as a shield. As a last resort. As the pain screamed through her body, Kara knew her only chance was not to endure it.

It was to enjoy it.

The whip snarled, cracking against her vulva. Kara's cry was loud and ****; pain and arousal roared through her mind. This was part of herself she had always fought before. Part of herself that had felt shameful.

But now it was her only chance.

Kara surrendered to it. She surrendered to the need deep inside. She let it come forth, her mind retreating before it.

The whip snarled! Pain bloomed.

Kara moaned like a slut.

“Richard!”

Kara’s cry of ecstasy-laden pain only made Isabel even more furious. Her face turned pale. Her strikes became harder, faster. Lashing out with a flurry of blows. Kara recoiled, her senses screamed. Pain and pleasure thundered through her. Each strike, each moment, each mounting peak was more than the last. Her mind swam; her thoughts shimmered and darted like a shoal of fish.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, how did it feel so painful and yet so good at the same time?

She cried out, part scream, part moan. Her whole body was aflame

Eventually, Isabel seemed to run out of energy. The whip trailed to a stop, and she stood gasping. Glaring. Her face was a mask of rage. whatever she had wanted out of this, she hadn’t gotten it.

Kara trembled. Her body was weak. Her limbs were like jelly. Pain bloomed and danced and crackled across her skin. The red welts of the whip stood in sharp contrast to her usual paleness. It was also impossible to hide how turned-on she was. Her pussy was dripping with wetness and Isabel cruelly ran the tip between her lower lips for a second time. Kara winced.

“You’re such a slut,” Isabel growled. “You’re actually getting off on this? Pathetic. Don’t you even have basic self-control? I’d ask if you had any dignity, but we already know you don’t.”

She reached for her belt, pulling something free that gleamed with a wicked sharpness. Kara recognised a knife in the brief instant before Isabel brought it swinging around!

The ropes which held her upright were severed with a stroke and Kara jerked forward. She tried to catch herself, but after the whipping her body had no strength at all. She crashed to the ground, sprawling there with her arms still bound behind her back.

The floor creaked as Isabel stepped closer. Her pointed, stiletto shoes tap-tapping on the wooden boards.

“You think it’s over? You think that you’ve made it through?”

Isabel hooked a boot around one side and before Kara even knew what was happening, she’d been flipped over. She gazed weakly up at the light, Isabel’s cruel face beamed down at her.

“You want to beg for mercy yet, slut? You want to admit that I own you? That you belong to me and only me?”

“Richard…” Kara managed to gasp. “I belong to Richard….”

Isabel’s face twisted.

“Your boyfriend? He doesn’t own you and he doesn’t want to. You’re a worthless whore that he used as a fuck-toy because you were there. Do you really, really think he values you?”

Kara squealed, Isabel’s pointed heel stabbed against the skin of her inner thigh, the stiletto pressing against her bare leg. She quivered, the other woman moving her foot across her body. The tip dragged closer and closer to her womanhood.

“You want to cum, little slut? I saw how much you enjoyed the whipping. Beg me to let you cum and I will.”

Kara said nothing. Her chest rose and fell. Anticipation and dread coiled within her like a serpent. Her body felt hot and tight; her pussy was burning, her clit throbbing with want. The remnants of her programming combined with her lust and desire, screamed at her to beg. To surrender. To be exactly what Isabel was telling her to be.

I am a little slut.

I don’t deserve anything but this.

Why am I resisting? This is my place. This is what I am.

The thoughts beat down against her. Her own and yet not. Implanted by the ****-machine but fed by her own weakness, they hammered against her in a hurricane of screaming, mindless want.

Surrender!

Give in!

Be what you are programmed to be!

Suddenly, Isable’s stiletto heel stabbed down, grinding against the hood of her clitoris. Pain seared through her body like lightning, followed by a flood of arousal. She moaned, her hands clenched into fists and her head shook in defiance.

“Look how wet you are,” Isabel laughed. “You can deny it as much as you want with those lips. But the ones between your legs don’t lie.”

Isabel pressed down, and the pressure tore any thought of speech Kara tried to form. She loosed a mindless, feral groan, her body shook, fireworks of ecstasy popping and crackling through her. Her clit was screaming. Isabel tormented it, grinding against it.

At some point, Kara started to move as well, desperately humping her clitoris against Isabel’s heel. Humiliation stained her face, she was gasping, and moaning, her body trembling and shivering.

“Do it,” Isabel laughed. “Cum as I **** your clit. Cum for me like you always did before. You little slut. This is exactly the life that you always wanted.”

Her body was screaming. Her mind was fogging. She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before. Ecstasy and agony danced and twirled on the edge of a knife, her clit burned. Both pain and pleasure flared between her legs. Her throat was dry, her programming screamed at her to surrender. Isabel’s words hammered at her, slipping between her defences like a knife between ribs.

Still, she held on. Even as her body rocked. Even as she pressed her clit eagerly into Isabel’s heel. Even as her face burned, and she surrendered the physical fight, she held on to what was important.

Richard!

She wasn’t going to let Isabel destroy her. Not again! Maybe she was a masochistic slut. Maybe she did enjoy pain. Maybe Isabel was right about all of that.

But she could never change who she really belonged to.

Kara convulsed, her pussy throbbed, her clit screamed as the orgasm finally hit her like a wave. Her eyes snapped open and she came, Isabel ground her clit harder, pressing down almost enough to make Kara howl as the pleasure mounted. She thrust and writhed and gasped.

But she didn’t beg, and that was the one thing that Isabel wanted above all else. Even worse, as the climax roared through her, as her body shuddered, as she lost all control, she choked out his name again.

“R-Richard…”

Isabel’s face flushed. A look of cold fury danced across her eyes. She pulled back from Kara’s shuddering body. The ginger-haired machinist’s arousal coated her heel, but she didn’t pause even for an instant as she swung to Pump.

“Mister Pump!”

The giant automaton tilted his head.

“Gearheart. I want him.”

“Dead?”

It was a simple question, but it broke through the haze of post-orgasm mist like an artillery barrage. Kara’s eyes snapped wide.

“Alive,” Isabel snapped. “But he doesn’t have to be intact. Bring him to me! I want him to see what a complete whore his **** is. I want him to know exactly who you are, Kara.”

“I don’t suppose,” Pump rumbled, “that you would listen to me if I told you this was not a good idea?”

“I want him!

Kara shivered. Richard’s words danced in her head. He’d been convinced that Pump was alive. Kara knew differently. He ran on the same neural node that all automatons did. Yes, it was high-grade. But it wasn’t special. If Pump was alive, then so was every other automaton of his grade.

And that wasn’t something she was ready to accept.

Even so, as she looked at Pump. As she watched him turn back and forth, she wondered…

“It is an unwise decision,” he said at last. “But if it is what you wish, I will see it fulfilled. You know you will not break her? Bringing her lover to her will only make her stronger. If I kill him-”

“No!” Isabel snapped. “Don’t kill him. Not yet. I want him to see. I want to reduce her to a mewling little animal as he watches. I want to fuck her before his eyes, and I want him to see her beg me for permission to cum like she always should.”

For an instant, Kara dared to hope that Pump would refuse. That he’d see the error in the logic. That he’d realise how pointless it all was. He was a machine, he had to!

Instead, he simply nodded.

“It will not end the way you want it to, but if that is what you wish I will see to it.”

He didn’t even wait for her to confirm the command. Instead, he began to plod across the room. His massive form cast a sinister shadow which played along the floorboards. Kara could only watch, her heart racing. But she had to believe that Richard could handle it. She refused to let Isabel break her down again! Not this time! Not when she had so much more to fight for!

Desperately, her eyes cast around the room. It was the same search that she had been conducting since she’d been brought here, but just as every other time, she came up with only one option to escape.

And the success of that route rested entirely on Isabel.

“Now,” her former friend said, turning back to her with a sadistic look. “While Pump goes and fetches your boyfriend I think it’s time you and I had a little chat about your place in the world. Of course. When I say chat, I mean that I am going to be doing the talking.”

She reached for one of the candles which lit up the room. Dribbling trails of hot wax played over her hands, reddening her skin as she took a step towards Kara.

“You’re mostly going to be begging.”