EXTRACT FOR
The Punic Pirate
(Sylvester Horne)

     Picking her up, he roughly slung her over the metal contraption, winding her and causing pain, it bruising her body wherever contact was made.  He pushed her neck into the bottom half of the pillory, pressed her right wrist into the retaining position, and then started to lower the top.

     "Put your other wrist into the slot or I'll fucking well chop your hand off!"

     Fear forced her to comply.  Her arms and head were soon restrained.  The metal strap was put over her lumber region, it holding her down tightly.  He pulled her thighs apart in turn, securing each to separate legs of the device, causing her feet to be spread wide.  

     Seconds later there was a mighty "Crack!" She felt something akin to a lightning strike make contact with her backside.  "Aaarrrggghhh!" she wailed.  

Catching sight of him standing beside her, she clearly saw a horrible, black, four-foot whip in his hand, he raising it skywards again.   Gritting her teeth, she dreaded the coming blow.  "Aaarrrggghhh!" she howled as it cut into her shoulder blades.  "Please!  Please!" she begged, tears forming in her eyes, pain pulsating from both areas of contact.

     "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" Six tear-jerking, agonising, biting blows landed on her buttocks or on her back, each making her flesh feel like it had received the attentions of a red-hot poker.

     "Pleeease," she wailed, terror causing her to squirt out a jet of urine onto the planking.  She was convinced she was at the mercy of a crazy Carthaginian that intended to take revenge on her for all his people's tribulations.  Feeling exceedingly sorry for herself she wondered where her uncle was when she needed him.

     "Well, Roman cunt, you're going to have to beg better than that.  You're going to have to learn what being a slave is all about," he replied.

     "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" ??" "Crack!" The whip lashed against her skin again and again.

     "Pleeeeeease!  Pleeeeeease!" she squealed.

     He disappeared.  Her view was exceedingly restricted, but she sensed he was nowhere near her.  A few seconds later she felt his hand on her tenderised bottom, he proceeding to slap it several times.  "I've just been into the shelter and fetched a lamp as I thought I'd burn your pubic hairs off like you did mine."

     "No!  Pleeease!"  She possessed quite a hairy bush whereas she recollected his hairs had been sparse.  Surely setting it on fire would scar her for life? 

     She felt the tingle of the flame's heat, heard her hairs shrivelling, and recognised the burning smell.  There was however no great conflagration, he repeatedly using his hand to slap out any fire, his hitting against her pubic bone actually feeling far more painful.  Once her covering had all been reduced to withered hairs he roughly massaged his hand back and forth, rubbing off the residue, leaving nothing but tiny stubble.