Samantha

Samantha had exited the inn and began circling around it, by the time Ines had screamed, she was well out of earshot. The brunette smiled as she caught sight of an out building in back of the inn. While it wasn't the stable that she had initially hoped for, it was what was commonly referred to as a "woodshed." Her smile broadened as she approached. If Chelsea had gone anywhere with the Amazon they had seen, it was here.

Woodsheds were popular with the wealthy in Post-Cataclysm Society. Nearly every mansion had one, some built right into the **** girl's quarters. High end hotels, resorts, and inns that kept **** girls of their own, or were frequented by the rich and powerful that never went anywhere without at least one lovely and scantily clad **** girl of his or her own. The purpose of a woodshed, as one might expect, was to deliver the harshest of punishments to misbehaving slaves without disturbing their owners. In places like this, outside of city walls however, one could easily be used to convince a free woman she was better off with a **** collar around her neck. Either by punishing her, or having her witness a ****'s punishment and promising worse if she didn't strip herself naked, kneel down, and beg for a collar of her own.

"I bet she's having all the fun of torturing that Amazon all to herself," she thought as she opened the door. She was met by absolute silence. It was not unusual to approach a woodshed without hearing anything, most were soundproofed. "Hello! Chels, you in here?!" she called out as she walked into the large building. It appeared to be unoccupied at the moment, the lighting was set to minimal keeping it mostly dark inside, however she could still make out the outlines of several pieces of bondage furniture. Thanks to the light pouring in through the open door she could see a row of floggers neatly hung on the far wall ranging from the lightest on the far left, and the heaviest to the far right.

The door slammed shut and seemingly at the same instant that the lights came on three masked, shirtless, muscular men quickly wrestled the busty brunette to the floor and held her down as a fourth began to cut her clothes away. "NO! Get off of me!" Samantha screamed before one of the men used her torn shirt as a makeshift gag. Once they had cut away all of her clothes the four men lifted the female slaver and carried her over to a set of standing stocks. They held her tightly as one of the men slid the padded curved metal bars along their short track until her ankles were held securely between them and locked it in place. Once this was done, they repeated the process with her wrists and neck. When they were done the beautiful brunette was left standing naked with her feet spread apart and her hands stuck out beside her head, completely helpless.

"Would ya get a load of the tits on this one lads," one of the men laughed in an accent that was either Scottish or Irish, she couldn't quite place it. She growled at him as she tried to lurch toward him causing a roar of laughter from the other men.

"She's a spirited one alright," another of the men laughed.

"Well, we'll just have to cure her of that," the third hooded man said as he approached with a device she knew and had used on several girls herself. It was a breast press. Two large pieces of wood joined by two screws one on each end. When the screws tightened down the device would close down on a woman's breasts and painfully pinch them between the heavy pieces of wood.

"NNRRR! NNRR!" she screamed into her makeshift gag and shook her head as the man with the third man held the press in place and the man with the accent began to slowly turn the screws. She knew that the screws could be turned very quickly but, like she had so many times herself, he was making a show of it. "RRRAAAHHH! RRRRAAAAH!" she screamed in pain a few short and at the same time, agonizingly long minutes later when the wicked press was as tight as her large breasts would allow.

"How about we decorate these tits?" one of the men asked rhetorically as he placed a set of nipple clamps that were weighted with jewels on her nipples causing Samantha to scream into her gag once more.

"Okay, time to see who gets the first go," one of the men said holding his fist out in front of him vertically. Wordlessly the other three did the same as they formed a circle. Samantha almost couldn't believe her eyes as the four began playing Rock Paper Scissors and after two rounds, the man with the accent proved victorious.

"Ha! Luck o' The Irish lads," he said as he held his hand up in victory still forming the scissor sign.

"Get on with it Lucy Charms," one of the other men laughed. She lost sight of him as he walked by her towards the neatly hung floggers. He selected one of the smaller lighter whips, made his way back to her, and began to flog her tits. Each lash of the supple leather tendrils caused immense pain in her clamped breasts as they jiggled and the wights on the nipple clamps bounced freely.

After several minutes of this, the man finally stopped. After another round of the game, one of the other men approached her with a large lit red wax candle. He smiled coldly at the brunette as he let the candle burn and a pool of melted wax began to form at the large candle's center. When he was satisfied he lit two other candles, one purple and one black. With the other two candles lit, he took the first and held it just above her breasts.

"NRRR! NRRR!" Samantha screamed and shook her head. The man of course ignored her and began to slowly pour the melted wax onto her breasts drawing more pained screams from the busty future **** girl. Once he had decorated her tits to his liking in shades of red, purple and black he stepped aside and and let the next man take his turn. They had decided whom would go next while waiting for the candles to burn down.

The winner, the groups only African-American selected a short cane and held it first against her tits. Samantha looked at him pleadingly. She made no attempt to scream. She knew it was pointless. She would be caned and eventually she would accept a collar. She would beg for one now if she could but she had **** in the matter. She knew soon enough the only choices she would ever have again in life would be to obey and hope not to be punished, or disobey and assuredly be punished.

CRACK! "RRRRAAAAAHHH!" she threw her head back and screamed in agony as the first stroke of the cane landed on her right breast not far from her nipple.

"I'm going to cane every last bit of wax of these tits of your's," the man said his deep voice rattling in her chest as he fondled her breasts. Samantha gave a whimper in response before casting her eyes as far down as the stocks would allow. Slowly over the course of the next few minutes the man kept his word and by the time he was done, Samantha was sobbing heavily.

"I think I'll give those tits of yours a break," the last man laughed as he approached with a small paddle in hand. He moved behind the broken brunette and delivered twelve hard swats to the brunette's ass. After the last swat had landed the man pulled the clump of cloth from Samantha's mouth. "Do you want your collar, little **** girl?"

"Please sir, I'll do as you say," Samantha said through her tears.

A few minutes later, the four men and newly collared Samantha entered the large central room under the inn through the tunnel that they had brought the woodshed. The men laughed when he saw their friends standing in a circle as Chelsea and Ines made their way around the circle begging to suck each man's cock and once granted permission took the cock in question in her mouth and sucked the man off. The four removed their masks, placed Samantha in the circle of men and joined in on the fun themselves.