Shocking News

SHOCKING NEWS

PART SIX:

PROUD MARIE

 

Marie, along with many other locals, worked at the construction site that had suddenly been started in the semi-jungle next to the wide meandering river where for generations there had been a prosperous village.

She welcomed the change as she had an intense desire to better herself and looked down at her relatives who were content to live out their years in the quiet surroundings of squalor that was the village.

Marie had voiced her opinions loudly and frequently until one day the village elders had met and decreed that for the good of all she should decease and get on with her job. They added that if she continued they would have no choice but to sentence her to a public punishment. The public was all affected by her and should  have the chance to witness the consequences. After all, she choose to still live in the village as her meagre wage didn’t allow her to move into the workers’ huts that had sprung up next to the site.

Marie was furious, believing that she was superior to the elders and trusting that her lithe body and smouldering eyes could work their usual magic and get her out of any situation.

She was wrong. The elders wanted nothing more than to be permitted to sit around in the sun all day smoking and gently ridiculing the activities of the white shirted foreigners who sweated on the building works. They had to bow to local pressure however and so had Marie brought before a village meeting one day after work hours.

Marie stood disdainfully to one side, flinging her long black hair from side to side and picking at her finger nails. The sight of her nails, broken and black with dirt did nothing to help her mood.

When asked once again if she would agree to please keep her thoughts private, Marie lost her temper and flew at the old men in front of her. Her fists clenched, spit flying from her mouth she verbally attacked them. As she did so she provided these worthy men with an enticing view of her cleavage as her breasts tried in vain to escape from her stained white blouse. Her short blue skirt swinging, she finally finished and turned her back on them and stood there tapping one foot on the ground and gnawing at one nail.

Their verdict was clear. To Marie’s amazement there and then she was forcibly dragged over to a hastily erected frame by a couple of the village lads who were able to easily subdue her with their work hardened muscles.

“We have had enough. This village is not here solely for you, Marie. There are many others who enjoy living here and it ought to be enough for you. We have repeatedly warned you about your actions, now you pay the price! You will be publicly whipped and banished from the village.”

Marie froze, surely they weren’t serious? These old men with their pipes and dull old eyes. They didn’t have the balls!

“Crap on you old fools! You have no power over me! Empty threats, that’s all you have!”

she blustered and was horrified as her wrists were bound in front of her and the bindings tied to a rope that was looped over a pulley at the apex of the A frame. Her ankles were pulled apart and fastened to the legs, Marie falling forwards until her hips met the cross piece. She certainly made a fine erotic sight in the strong sunlight. Her long legs shook as she tried to escape and her skirt rode up to reveal short flashes of her round honey coloured bum cheeks and her miniscule red g-string that she wore. Her blouse had become transparent with the sweat pouring off her and her large nipples swelled beneath the fabric, clearly visible as they danced and jiggled.

One of the elders, who was considerably more fit than the others, stepped forward. He pulled Marie’s blouse loose from her skirt and tied it around her just below her breasts leaving most of her back bared. He undid her skirt and pulled it away with a theatrical flourish. Marie gasped as the sun shone full onto her. Her body gleamed in the light and her tiny string did little to protect her modesty. With her legs held apart and her buttocks pushed out the villagers could see her pouting lips and puckered bum hole clearly through the wet nylon. Many of the young men shuffled awkwardly as they experienced throbbing hard-ons at the view. Several of the women half turned away, surprised at their own reactions.

The elder lifted his arms. All talk ceased as he repeated the penalty to which Marie had been sentenced.

“A minimum of twenty strokes of the whip to be applied with force to the area of the back and legs down to behind the knees. It has been a long time since this village last witnessed a judicial whipping. Let us hope that it will be years to the next”

Marie was uncertain of what to expect. She knew it would hurt, that was the point of it. Nothing had prepared her for the shock of the first stroke. It drove into her back like the cut of a hot knife and for a moment she was quiet and still. Then she stiffened and wailed at the top of her voice. The villagers stood silent and all eyes were on the thin raised red welt that appeared on her upper body, stretching diagonally down from one shoulder blade.

The whip whistled down again and struck with a loud crack six inches below the first stripe. Marie again yelped and flexed her body. The male witnesses licked their dry lips in anticipation of the next blow. Marie’s lips were far from dry. Her mouth ran with saliva and her sex ran with arousal as she reacted to the exposure and unexpected pleasure of showing her intimate reactions to the men.

The punisher showed that he had much experience in wielding the whip, although he had seldom been called upon to demonstrate on such a target. The angry stripes marched in parallel lines down Marie’s back and he tensed himself for the first strike to her undulating backside. He waited until she stopped moving and listened as she groaned, fearing what was to come. The whip hissed back and then struck out at the firm flesh. The men sighed as one at the sound of the whip echoed out. Marie clenched her bum and stood up on tiptoe as far as the ropes allowed. She rocked up and down, her young muscles tensing and for those with good sight, her excited vagina sending out a thin thread of fluid that ran down the inside of her thigh. She was hurting. Oh god, she was hurting! But despite that or maybe because of that, Marie felt more turned on than she had ever been before. She imagined that she could see through the mens’ eyes and marvelled at her body there on display for all to see. She saw the marks highlighting the curve of her buttocks and saw the tiny panties that effectively hid nothing.

Again and again the whip steamed down onto her. Ten lines could be counted, all angled more or less the same.

A voice called out for a rest period, probably as much for the transfixed onlookers as for Marie. She was left bound to the whipping frame but was given a cool drink of water while the women dabbed a soothing ointment on her wounds marvelling at the resilience of her skin as they did so. Two of them held up a blanket so that others could pull down the sodden string between the girl’s legs and wash and dry her, the gentle rubbing bringing her to the brink of climax. The older woman in attendance took pity on Marie and after giving her a dry cloth to bite, fingered her to bring on the relief and distract her from her pain. Her own panties they then cut away, replacing them with a tie-sided pair that were dry and comfortable.

The women were called away and Marie prepared for the final part of her punishment.

The lashes rained down again, this time angled the opposite way bringing fierce pain at the point of intersection. This actually proved to be a little more than she could handle and Marie cried out for the blows to stop, her proud demeanour giving way to that of a sobbing child.

This greatly pleased the elders as they believed that their point had been made for the entire village to see. They crowded around the bound girl and exclaimed over the burning marks on her back, bottom and thighs.

“Should we indeed stop at this point?” asked one.

“No. The penalty was for twenty strokes and there are six left to go. I say continue”

The discussion could have carried on well into the night. The old men were used to debate but unused to having the responsibility of a young girl hanging by her arms in the hot sun cooking slowly, her body bruised and beaten.

The women who had seen to Marie’s injuries earlier took matters into their own hands and cut her down. The eldest, the one who had deftly used her fingers on her, led Marie over to a seat in the shade. She called for attention and proclaimed that the girl had had enough of the whip for that day but that clearly the letter of the law should be honoured, so with permission from the elders she intended to end the session with giving Marie a final thorough spanking on her bottom. This, she said, would end the sentence satisfactorily and would most certainly be a further humiliation for one who had been so proud.

Marie was turned over the woman’s knees in the time honoured position for a spanking. The last of the setting sun’s rays shone through the shade of the tree above and further striped her body. Marie pressed her knees together as the hard calloused hand swept down to land with a leathery smack on her cheeks. It hurt a lot more than she had expected as her bottom was crossed with welts from the whipping earlier.

It appeared that this particular woman was well used to dealing with bad girls. Thinking about it, Marie realised that she had four daughters of her own all of whom had been present and all of whom were now sympathising with each smack of the hand.

Each and every one of the four had been given the same treatment and knew what it felt like as the bum grew hotter but the inside of the thighs grew cooler with the drying sweat. They knew that Marie wanted to push her bottom higher and higher and to open her legs for that final assault that would bring about that hot, confusing explosive feeling.

 Gradually the whole of her seat turned an angry scarlet and Marie whimpered in shame at the comments she could hear from the villagers.

“Has she been done well?” asked one of them.

“Aye” came the response “good and properly!”

“Look at that arse! I could light my pipe on it! She’ll not sit for a time”

“If I had my way, sitting wouldn’t be an option. I’d have her on all fours, that bum in the air just dying for me to take her. Better yet, we could tie her bent over the frame with her wrist and ankles together and all take her in turns! That old girl there could get another fingerful and spread it over her arse, that’d be soothing and cool!”

“Cool you say. You’re getting old! Mine still comes out hot!” There was much laughter at that.

The elders were invited over for a final inspection. There could be no doubt that full punishment had been given and that Marie was far from the girl she had been at the start of it.

She was let up. She couldn’t stand the thought of staying in the village so hurried off into the gathering gloom, uncertain of her destination and forgetting the basic rule of the village-don’t go out alone at night!  

 

 

 

(In Part seven “If you go down to the river” Marie has an accident and meets Sara and the Doctor)

  

 

 

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