She shook her head trying to displace the foreboding.  A little 'slave exercise' with these two slaves would surely be no big deal after everything she'd already been through.  Inconsequential.  A small price to pay.

The heavy manacles hung from thick chains in the center of the room between the two beds and equal to the foot of the beds.  It felt all too final when she closed the first one locked tight on her wrist.  The metal was continuous from her wrists to halfway up her forearms.  The second manacle was difficult.  She had to press it closed and locked against the one on her other hand, both hands well above her head.  They were so heavy and at such an awkward angle it really was like exercise. 

Grinding chains startled her.  Swampy was fingering a remote control and her eyes glistening eagerly.  Spare chain links spooled upward into a ceiling casing until Jackie was stretched, arms straight, spinning slightly, her big toes fighting to keep her in place.  Her shoulders immediately began aching.

Time to say her piece before this went any further, "Let's talk, girls.  You don't want to be here, you don't want to be slaves the rest of your lives.  No one would.  Let me down after the bare minimum to make this 'slave exercise' look convincing then I'll buzz to leave with you two back in your beds or standing in that slave parade mode.  Then, when the door opens, you jump to it and we all leave together down the hall, out the fire escape door, into my car, and back to freedom.  Good plan, right?"

Sharer produced a couple short whips from under her bed and handed one to Swampy.

"Good plan, right, ladies?"

Sharer and Swampy used non-whip wielding hands to begin tearing away Jackie's clothing, popping buttons and ripping skirt material.

"Oh, careful, don't rip it.  I'll need to put all these clothes right back on when we're done going through the motions here."

They kept ripping, pulling and stretching, rapidly revealing Jackie's lush pale body.  Their too realistic play-acting was making Jackie angry.

"Hey, be careful!  We could get pulled over by police as we speed away from this hell hole.  I don't want to look so dishevelled I won't be credible to them."

Sharer's eyes were gobbling up Jackie's revealed skin and lingered appreciatively on her nipple-ring weighted heaving breasts.  Swampy pushed her face close to Jackie's and looked steadily into her eyes as she viciously tore away her final shred of clothing, her panties.

Sharer turned to Swampy, "Swampy, will you please share with me a whipping delivered to this status ignorant slave?  You know I cannot do it unless you also will."

"I'll be happy to, Sharer.  I'll take her backside, you can have her front."

As they assumed their agreed stations Jackie had more than an inkling things were not developing well for her.  They were such good actresses, she thought, they were even fooling her into thinking they were dedicated slaves.

"Make it look good, but don't whip hard, I'll need to be able to sit in the driver seat.  If you're good with those whips I think you can make them snap without even contacting my skin."

SCHWACK!  Across the middle of both ass cheeks a trail of meteoric fire.

SCHWACK!  Across her torso, just millimeters below her breasts, a trickle of splashed lava.

Jackie yelled and twisted, chained manacles clinking together.

More and more slashing splashing pain.  Sharer and Swampy were putting all their strength and concentration into it.  The pain did not just go on and on.  It built upon itself.  While the pain built Jackie's self-control dismantled.  Her yells turned into screams, her screams eventually into lost soul groans of torment.

Jackie was in danger to losing herself to the pain.  She knew it.  She may only have a few moments of purposeful consciousness left.  She had to make sure they were fully on board with the plan, that no adjustments were needed.  Other than having one of them drive her car, of course.  In ten minutes, or however long this whipping was going to last, she would be in too much ongoing pain to drive.  One of these strong-armed expert whipping bitches would have to do the duty.  Did they even realize how much they were hurting their rescuer?

Jackie gulped back a groan-scream.  Her voice was a croak, "You're all good with the plan?"

She saw Sharer's calmly sympathetic dark face float into view very near, "It was a good plan, Fishy."

How did Sharer know her name?  How did Sharer know to call her Fishy?