Cawnpore

Lucknow, India 1858

The repercussions, retaliations and counter-retaliations associated with the Great Mutiny continued to create great violence and brutality in the country. Military 'law' was in force and atrocities by both the forces of British colonialism and by the opposition continued. Following the rebellion by Indian officers, known as the Sepoy Mutiny, within the British Army and the massacre of British people, which followed in Cawnpore, feelings were running extremely high and revenge and recrimination were the order of the day. From the end of 1857, the British had begun to gain ground again. Lucknow was retaken in March 1858.

Due to the bloody start of the rebellion and especially after the apparent treachery of the Indian Empress and butchery in Cawnpore, the British believed that they were justified in using similar tactics. The British press and British government did not advocate clemency of any kind. Soldiers took very few prisoners and often executed them later. Whole villages were wiped out for apparent pro-rebel sympathies. The Indians called it Devil's Wind.

The last rebels were defeated in June 1858. Sporadic fighting continued to 1859 but most of the rebels were subdued. The British adopted the old Mughal punishment for mutiny and sentenced rebels were lashed to the mouth of cannons and blown to pieces. It was the crudest war India had seen in a long time, with both sides resorting to what can only be described as barbarism.

It was a time of chaos and uncertainty; an environment ripe for abuse of the normal standards, of law and order and of human rights. Many people used their power and influence to further their own perverted agendas. One example was the creation of a small renegade splinter group of the 15 ^th Kings Hussars, which took time off from the formal duties of the regiment to take the law into its own hands and dish out justice in its own style and for its own ends.

A young Indian woman named Rani Singh, the beautiful daughter of one of the ringleaders of the rebel army factions, found herself a victim of this environment and of this renegade group. She had been 'arrested' in Lucknow by part of a small group of the renegade British officers and enlisted men who had decided to take the law into their own hands and to administer their own form of counter-revolutionary actions and justice to opponents and their supporters. The pretext for Rani's arrest, as if they needed one, was on grounds of supporting and aiding the rebellion. On the basis of information supplied by an informant, four officers had arrived at the home of one of her friends where she was in hiding and seized her before she knew what was happening. In a horse-drawn open carriage, they took her to a large estate on the outskirts of the town, once the home of a regional mogul, now utilized by this army vigilante group as their temporary headquarters and 'barracks'. As family of a much hated rebel leader, Rani Singh was considered fair game and an easy target for summary justice. The maverick 'justice' system administered by this group, as Rani would soon discover, was not at all equitable or reasonable, but it was, indeed, quite objective in its victim selection process and its chosen methods of punishment. In her case, the reason for her capture had little to do with the alleged crimes of her or her father. It had much more to do with her obvious physical attributes and with the depraved fantasies of the Captain of this renegade group. This was, in fact, the main reason why the pretty Rani found herself in her current predicament.

"We have apprehended the rebel, Sir, as ordered." Corporal Jones grinned broadly as he reported to his Captain.

"You're sure it's the Singh girl." Asked the Captain. "Aye, Sir. No mistaking this beauty. Can't be more than one pair of tits like hers around these parts. She's under guard in the cells below."

"Well done, Jones", Captain Steele replied, unable to hide his great pleasure. "You'll be well rewarded for this. Now go and organize things for the punishment administration tomorrow. Make sure there's good crowd, mind. Invite some new blood. This one's going to make a real exhibition."

It was noon, next day. Rani stood tall and proud in the dark, humid cell under a wing of the enormous house and listened with some trepidation to the footsteps approaching along the corridor. A radiant twenty three-year old, Rani hated the British and all that they stood for, though, unlike her father, she had never been involved in any activities aimed against them. The violet sari of expensive silk together with the gold jewelry which adorned her wrists and ankles, revealed her wealthy family background and her high caste. Beneath the sari, she wore a red choli, a tight-fitting blouse, designed to show a naked midriff and to accentuate the bust. It was very clear, despite the loose material of the sari, which was draped over her upper torso, that the garment concealed, as well as supported, a very large and full bust. Covering her long legs, she wore red salwar-kameez; traditional, pajama-like trousers drawn in at the waist and ankles. There was sufficient bare flesh on display to show that her dusky skin was smooth, firm and unblemished. Long, jet-black hair framed a round and pretty face with full lips and large dark eyes.

The captain, along with his sergeant and a corporal arrived at the cell door. The corporal unlocked it and they entered. The captain was clutching a rolled document. They stood, formally, in front of the young woman and took a long look at her. Steele's loins stirred with sadistic excitement as he contemplated the event to come and which he had planned for several weeks. He had been introduced to Rani, briefly, at a local government function a few weeks before. He had been struck by her beauty and particularly by her shape. He was a man with a sadistic desire to see women punished, particularly with the whip. He also had an obsession with female breasts – size being the most important aspect of this obsession. These two things intertwined to create a particular fantasy, which his position of power had now enabled him to realize. After the mutiny and when Rani's father had been identified as a rebel, he remembered the daughter and saw his opportunity. He was longing to see the treasures, which lay hidden under her clothing and was tempted to have his men strip her to the waist right then. But he decided to stick to the formal plan.

He unfurled the paper and read its contents.

"Prisoner Rani Singh", he said, still looking at the paper, "You have been found guilty of a series of crimes which clearly warrant a sentence of death."

Despite having braced herself for this eventuality, the words still rocked her and she had to summon all of her willpower in order to appear unperturbed.

"The officers of the Special Committee for Law and Order", he continued, "Have reviewed your case and have concluded that the swift death which would be afforded by the firing squad does not make amends and does not amount to a punishment commensurate with the crimes which you and your cohorts have committed." The captain raised his gaze to the young woman and his eyes roved up and down her body.

Rani listened more intently, apprehensive of where this line of oratory was heading.

The officer carried on. "To rectify this situation and to ensure that you suffer properly for your actions against the British people, the Military Council presiding over this region," he said, in a matter of fact tone, "Has decided that your execution should be remitted to a sentence of severe public corporal punishment followed by imprisonment for a period yet to be agreed. The corporal part of your sentence will take place here in this barracks this afternoon. The nominal sentence ordered is a minimum of eight-dozen lashes and I have been granted a great deal of latitude in the implementation and to adjust the sentence as I see fit ." He paused to look at his horrified captive. "At two o'clock you will be taken to the courtyard where the punishment is to be administered. That," he concluded his speech, "Is all."

"You bastards", shouted Rani. "This is barbaric…you can't…you have no right…." she stammered. "If you do this you will all pay dearly, my people will see to that!"

A sadistic smile crossed the captain's face and he stared menacingly into Rani's eyes. "Oh you can be very sure that we will do this, Miss Singh", he said coldly. "You can also be sure that we will make the ordeal as painful and as humiliating as it can possibly be. There will be a certain formality about the procedure but, unfortunately for you, the 'rulebook' for how this kind of punishment should be conducted has been thrown away." His eyes, again, scanned Rani's voluptuous body, undressing her in his mind. "I have been quite specific with my men about the manner of execution of your sentence." Rani was silent, horrified and unable to find words with which to respond.

The captain rolled up his orders and concluded. "Prepare yourself Miss Singh. And note that our procedure requires that you be stripped to the waist when led to the punishment area. Please ensure that you are appropriately disrobed when my men come for you at five minutes before two o'clock. Otherwise they will be forced to remove the garments themselves. That is all." The men turned and left the cell, locking the heavy door behind them

She sat down contemplating the frightening words of the captain. She knew that the flogging of women was no longer a lawful form of punishment for any crime in the country. She also knew that the army had no jurisdiction to try and to sentence members of the public. There was clearly nothing official about any of this and these people, she knew, were acting completely outside of any laws, codes and standards.

She spent the next two hours in a state of fear and apprehension, going over and over in her mind the terrible words of the captain and attempting to visualize the myriad of possible manifestations. She worried about the pain and about the nakedness to which they had alluded. Never in her worst nightmares had she contemplated such a horrible experience. In a culture which placed huge value on the female bosom, Rani was justly proud but extremely conscious of her breasts which were much envied by women and greatly enhanced her desirability to men. Right now though, she wished she had been less well endowed in that area of her body. A group of men (how many she had no idea) would feast their eyes on her nakedness, leer and joke over the sight of her huge breasts. Would they hurt her there? She could not bear even to think about the possibility. She was determined that, at the very least, she would retain her pride and dignity, whatever was to happen. She had no idea just how extremely that determination would be tested. She thought for some time about the comments which the officer had made as he left about how she should be naked to the waist when taken out. In the end she had decided that there was little point in testing their resolve. They had made clear that they were very serious and she felt sure they would not hesitate to rip the clothes from her body when they arrived. So, she had adjusted her sari by taking the upper piece off her shoulder and pinning it to the rest of the material around her hips. She wore a short-sleeved shirt, which buttoned at the back, called a choli. The garment was short in length, leaving bare midriff exposed. The choli she wore was deliberately tight in order to press her giant breasts into her body and to make them less obvious under her sari. Rani was certainly not slim. There was plenty of firm flesh on her curvaceous form. Voluptuous was probably the right description. She unbuttoned and removed the choli, folded it neatly and laid it on the bench next to her. Her upper body was now exposed. Her skin was not very dark, but more olive in hue and completely smooth and unblemished. Her breasts were, indeed, amazing. Huge, firm, heavy and round, in this seated position their lower curves were at the same level as her pretty navel. The very large aureoles, which adorned their centers were a brownish pink in colour and measured some four inches across. Her nipples were wide but not long; more like three-quarter inch diameter hemispherical bumps in the centers of her aureoles. They were highly sensitive but of the kind which did not harden much when touched or cold. Only her gold necklaces and bracelets now remained on her spectacular upper body. She took these off too and sat, waiting, with her arms crossed and the palms of her hands barely covering the wide, dark brown aureoles and nipples.

They came, as promised, at two o'clock. Three men, in their red and white army uniforms unlocked the door and entered the cell. She saw from their flashes that their ranks were sergeant and two lance-corporals. One of the lower ranking officers carried two manacles connected by a short chain.

" Oh my God", said one of the lance-corporals in his thick, Southern English accent, "Will you just look at what we have here. What a little beauty. Not so little either; will you take a look at those melons." His eyes were transfixed on Rani's naked torso. "Have you ever seen anything quite like these".

"How could I miss 'em", said the other junior NCO, lewdly. "I've never seen anything like them in my life"

"What a pity she's gone and done the job for us", said the other. "I'd have really enjoyed taking your clothes off darlin'. Seems such a shame to ruin this young stunner with the lash. Even if she survives eight dozen, there won't be much left to play with."

"Quiet you two", snapped the sergeant. "We've got a job to do. Just remember that this bitch has helped murder our soldiers and our women and children. But she's going to get her just desserts, you can be assured of that." Sergeant Parker was one of Steele's most loyal men. He too, took pleasure in violence but in his case the gender of his victims made little difference.

He smirked, reveling sadistically in his power to make the young woman visibly shake with his words. "And everything is prepared for you, young lady. You'll be the center of attention for the next few hours. Now, up you get and let's get on with this." He addressed his men again. "Secure her wrists behind her back and let's take her up."

Rani got up, her hands still clasped over her breasts. The men each seized one of her slender wrists, pulled them away from her chest, then fixed each one in a steel manacle behind her lower back. The action revealed to her captors the full magnificence of the huge, full, gourds and the enormous, smooth, darker colored, slightly puffy aureoles, which adorned them. The restraint was of course unnecessary and seemed more for effect or formality than practicality. Now the front of her body was fully exposed to their leering eyes. They had restrained half naked local women before, but none so magnificent as Rani. The soldiers could not resist the urge to grab a large handful of Rani's soft breast flesh and squeeze it roughly.

"Come on", ordered the sergeant, "Stop gawping and groping and move! You can watch the cow's tits bouncing for the rest of the afternoon. Let's not keep these good people waiting for their entertainment any longer." The young girl was led out, one on either side of her and each gripping her by the arm, just above the elbow. She offered no resistance.

They ascended some stairs and emerged through a heavy door into the open air, which though hotter, was less humid than the air beneath ground. Rani's eyes smarted adjusting to the bright, mid-day Lucknow sun. As her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recoiled in fear as she began to make out some of the details of the scene before her. They had emerged into a courtyard some forty yards square. To her left a crowd of people perhaps forty strong were seated on four, long benches stepped up one behind the other so that those behind could see clearly over those in front. The people were mostly uniformed soldiers both British and Indian and officers but also included about half a dozen well-dressed British women. Their chattering was silenced as Rani was pushed into the courtyard and they all turned to stare at the captive. There were a few disbelieving laughs. But most were just stunned by the sight of the woman's body. But the scene to her right turned Rani's bowels to water. The centre-piece was what she believed must be the whipping post: a sturdy upright of square cross-section about fifteen inches wide and seven feet high, across the top of which had been fixed a cross timber perhaps half the thickness of the upright, creating a 'T'. Heavy rungs were fixed into the 'T' at various points: on the underside and on the face at each ends of the cross-beam and in the face of the upright at the top, middle and bottom. On the far side of this structure of restraint was a simple wooden frame, which provided a home for an array of instruments clearly designed to inflict pain on the human body. Straps of various widths and lengths and with studs and spikes hung from its many hooks. So too did even more vicious looking whips of both single and multiple thongs. Canes and rods of various dimensions also had their places on the frame, together with ropes and cords. A long, narrow bench was located adjacent to the rack. There was brazier too, with glowing coals. Five wooden pails filled with water had been placed on the ground in front of the frame. A dozen or so Indian soldiers in full uniform stood at attention behind the post.

Captain Steele was there by the post as were two uniformed enlisted soldiers. The sergeant stood next to the enlisted men. Another soldier, Corporal Jones, in shirt-sleeves, stood next to the frame of instruments.

Rani's heart pounded hard within her chest and her breathing rate increased.

"Come on!" said the lance-corporal who gripped her right arm. "Time for your come-uppance." And he and his colleague pulled a now more resistant Rani towards the post.

The crowd had begun murmuring and chatting again, pointing, occasionally laughing quietly. The men's eyes (and those of one or two women) feasted on Rani's body and especially on her spectacular breasts, which quivered and swayed wonderfully as she was ushered to the heavy and foreboding-looking post. The soldiers escorting her stopped a few feet in front of it, faced her towards the onlookers, still flanking her and stood to attention. A new hush descended as the captain walked forward to address the 'public'.

He read from a paper. "Standing before you", he said loudly and with gravitas, "Is Miss Rani Singh, recently captured in a raid on rebel forces supporting the recent mutiny. She has been found guilty of conspiring with mutineers and assisting in activities which led to the murder of innocent British and Indian civilians and military personnel." He paused to look at his audience then continued. "This Command of the British Army is mandated to take whatever actions it believes are necessary to quell the uprising and to capture, sentence and punish, in whatever manner it sees fit, those perpetrators of violence against the government. Under this mandate, this prisoner has been sentenced to a term of imprisonment yet to be decided." There was utter silence to the point where Rani's deep breathing could be heard by all, as the people awaited the words which would clarify the nature of the punishment which they were about to witness. "In view of the heinous nature of her crimes, the Council believes that imprisonment alone does not make amends and does not constitute sufficient retribution. Consequently, an additional sentence of severe corporal punishment has been deemed appropriate to help redress this inequity. Specifically, the prisoner will be flogged in public. A nominal sentence of eight-dozen lashes is ordered, though I have the right, taking counsel from the Medical Doctor present, to extend that sentence depending on the physical condition of the prisoner. The order of the day is to ensure that the criminal suffers to the maximum extent possible within these guidelines. You are all present here to witness that this is done. Punishment is to be carried out forthwith."

A buzz of excited chatter broke out amongst the spectators.

"Sergeant Parker, have the prisoner secured to the post for the first segment of punishment", ordered the captain. The sergeant simply gave a small nod to his men who had clearly been briefed earlier.

Rani had remained silent throughout the over-indulgent rhetoric describing her fate. Despite her horror and disgust, and though the desire to do so was almost overwhelming, she preferred to retain her dignity and not provide these barbarians any more fuel for their sadistic pleasure, by struggling, screaming or breaking down. The two soldiers holding her removed the manacles and led her to the post while the shirt-sleeved soldier went to the frame of instruments. Rani had wondered (as indeed had some of those watching), whether they would now strip her fully and complete her shame. However, it seemed that some measure of perverted morality and procedure was to prevail and her lower garments were to remain, at least for the time being. She was pushed forward into the 'T' post. Taking cords from their pockets, the men, taking an arm each, tied one end of their cords round each of her wrists. Then they looped the cords through the heavy rungs at either end of cross-timber and pulled them tight until she stood on the balls of her feet then tied them off. Her arms were spread wide and the round hemispheres of her breasts pressed hard into the rough timber causing them to bulge out provocatively at either side of her torso below her armpits. At least those tender and sensitive parts were, for now, now mostly hidden from view and reasonably protected, she thought. One of the men tied a longer rope around her waist and secured her body firmly to the upright. Finally, using a short string, her long wavy hair was gathered and tied up so that it didn't fall across her shoulders and impede the whip. She was now immobilized in the traditional manner for institutional whipping and her strong, smooth-skinned back lay bare and ready for the lash.

Her torturer, the shirt-sleeved Corporal Jones, at six foot and one inch, towered over his victim. He was powerfully built and kept his physique in excellent condition. He had selected a single-thong, standard military whip used, albeit rarely these days, for punishment of recalcitrant soldiers. It measured about seven feet in length and was made from supple, plaited leather. The soldier gripped its black handle in his right hand and moved into a position some seven feet behind Rani and to her left. Jones was the regular choice of the Captain for wielding the whip. He had become quite skilled and he enjoyed his role. He gazed upon the half-naked form of the helpless girl with growing excitement. This young beauty would be one to relish, he thought and he was already contemplating the types of implements from his large selection he would use on the girl as the punishment progressed. Rani twisted her neck to look over her left shoulder and see what he was doing. He was looking towards his sergeant.

"Very well," said the senior man, "First, two dozen lashes to the prisoner's back. Begin!"

Rani braced herself and gritted her teeth. The man slowly drew back the whip. He pulled it forward in a sweeping motion and it whistled as it cut the damp air. As the leather drew close to its target, he pulled his arm and wrist slightly backwards causing the final eighteen inches of the whip to gain enormous speed as it smacked, with a report like a pistol shot, into the girl's smooth shoulders. Rani's head jerked back and it took all of her willpower to keep her cry short. In truth, the pain was far worse than she had ever imagined. She wanted to scream in agony. There was to be plenty of time and cause for that.

"One!" shouted the sergeant as a half-inch wide, fiery looking welt rose up across her dark shoulders.

She braced herself even harder as she heard the whip whistle a second time. The soldier had improved his timing somewhat and the 'crack' was louder, as the whip bit deep into the flesh below her shoulder blades. A louder anguished shriek erupted from her lips

"Two!" came the ominous count.

Rani began to breath more rapidly and tried to hold on to her composure through the extraordinary pain. The whip flew again, lower again this time, slicing into the softer muscle either side of her spine, the tip curling round and biting into the flesh above her kidneys. "Aaaahh! She yelled unable to control her vocal chords as another stripe sprang up across her soft skin. The swelling breast flesh at either side of her body presented an attractive target for the tip of Jones' whip, but he resisted the temptation knowing there would be plenty of attention placed on those parts in good time.

"Three!"

Oh God, thought Rani. Even the twenty-one more lashes of this promised 'first segment' seemed absolutely unendurable, let alone the thought of the seventy two more which, I theory at least, would be required to complete the sentence. She would surely die long before the punishment was over.

'Crack!' the whip struck again, high across the top of her shoulders sending pain coursing, once more right through her body. Each time a lash struck home, her head would fly back and she cried out in agony. But she was still far from losing control completely. Painful though the terrible lashes were, she was not going to beg for mercy. She would rather die first than give these dictators and their traitorous Indian supporters the pleasure of hearing her beg.

The tenth lash smacked into the firm flesh at her waist. Jones, the flogger, had now found his timing and rhythm on every stroke and the leather bit hard. The people stared, engrossed in the vicious spectacle. They were all there by choice, supporters and members of this unofficial Division and its methods and sworn to secrecy about its activities on pain of death. Some were there for the satisfaction of seeing punished those they believed had taken part in the killing of their colleagues and friends. Others, the majority, enjoyed the sexual sadism of the punishments, especially when the victim was female, young and pretty like this one. It was no secret that the captain had a special penchant for torturing young, buxom Indian girls. Four of the public punishments organized in the last month had been of well-endowed young women. For the section of the audience with the same perversion, Rani was quite definitely the most exciting 'event' they had witnessed thus far in the three months since it began. A woman, excited though slightly shocked by the whole affair, grimaced as the twentieth lash sliced into the middle of the innocent young woman's back once more, rending another muted but tortured cry from her pretty mouth. Her once smooth and unblemished back was now covered with a mass of bright red stripes from neck to waist. Blood oozed from a few places where lashes had crossed and trickled down her dark skin in small rivulets. The flogger's timing and rhythm was now well in a 'groove' and the flick of his wrist was ensuring that the tip of the whip reached maximum velocity as it struck the woman's flesh. This was clearly a skill he had developed with much practice. In fact, Corporal Jones had been employed in this role since this special Division had formed itself six months previously and had taken part in the punishment of twenty-one people in that time: ten women and eleven men. Female victims had become more frequent recently. The audience seemed to get more excited when the prisoners were women and of course, his captain had seen the opportunity to satisfy his personal perversion under the guise of 'just punishment for wrongdoers'. Jones was happy to do his job whatever the sex of the prisoner but would admit to having a preference for whipping females and especially when they were built as beautifully as this one today. And she was a strong one, he could tell. She was incredibly strong both physically and mentally and she was handling the best he could hand out as well as anyone he'd seen - man or woman. Normally they would be screaming like banshees by this point. He was becoming irritated and a little embarrassed that his strokes were not having the impact on the girl which he desired. Still, he thought, the stronger they were, the more punishment they could endure but, in the end, she would be screaming for mercy. It was just a question of time and method. He was pretty sure that the next 'segment' of the punishment would create a different response from the girl.

"Twenty-four!" came the count at last. Rani visibly slumped in her bondage, or at least as far as was possible in her stretched position. She breathed heavily and rapidly. The spectators began chattering again as if it was an intermission in a theatre show. In effect, it was, just that.

The captain talked briefly with the Doctor then with the sergeant who gave orders quietly to the two lance-corporals who flanked the post. They went eagerly to their task and began to untie Rani, first the rope around her waist, then the bindings to her wrists. Though she tried hard to not let false expectations enter her mind, Rani could not suppress, completely a small hope that her ordeal might be over. It was more out of desperation, than real hope. All others present, of course, harbored no such expectations. They knew from experience that the girl's suffering had only just begun. As they turned the girl around, Rani's magnificent chest was again on full display and the spectators feasted their eyes once more. Then Parker approached Jones. "What do you think Jones?" he asked, staring at Rani's chest. The spectators were too distant to hear the dialogue. "Even though she looks so pretty, the wench is as strong as a buffalo, Sir", he replied. "And she's hardly squealed yet, the bitch", he added.

"You're right, Jones", said the sergeant, "She's defying us. Aren't you, you arrogant sow", he said looking right into Rani's dark brown eyes. "Very well," he continued, "We will give you something to think about now." He turned again to Jones. "We'll firm up those udders of hers with a couple of heavy leather straps in a few minutes. But first I want her to know who's in charge here. I want to hear her scream. So pick a medium-heavy rod from your toolkit while I have her properly positioned for a little demonstration of power."

"Aye, Sergeant", said Jones. "I'll fetch something that'll do the job."

With a few words from the sergeant to his other men, they tied Rani's wrists together in front of her. Then they pulled her around to the left side (from the spectators perspective) of the post. Pushing her back against the side of the upright, they took another rope and attached it to her bound wrists and then threaded the loose end of that rope through the rung on the underside of the cross-beam, which was positioned about two and a half feet from the upright. While one soldier then pushed her so her back was pressed against the side of the post, the other tied her at the waist again to the upright. In this position, facing out towards to the crowd's left, her torso was angled slightly forward from the waist. Her breasts were thrust outward and pressed together by the position of her arms, accentuating, even further, the massive mammaries. Her nipples, flaccid in the hot, humid, mid-day heat, pointed straight outwards, horizontally, toward the frame of instruments.

"I want her more tightly restrained", said the Sergeant to his men. "She can move her body too freely." He thought for a moment. "Move the rope at her waist down the her hips." They obeyed their order. The Sergeant himself then fetched a longish rope and from behind the post ran it across the top of Rani's chest and under her arms. "Here", he said, "Tie this off tight so her shoulders are pressed hard against the wood. That should do it". One of the men took the rope ends from the officer and pulled them tight bringing her shoulders back against the post and extending and stretching her arms which were fixed to the rung at the wrists.

Rani grimaced as her tender, welted back rubbed against the rough timber. And what now, she thought. It didn't take a genius to figure out that her breasts would be the targets of their cruelty. Her worst fears were further confirmed when Sergeant Parker and Corporal Jones approached her. The sergeant laid his rough hands on Rani's breasts, squeezing them as if he was testing the plumpness of chickens at the market and pressing the big, puffy aureoles with his thumbs. This triggered some whispers and one or two lewd comments from the spectators. The breasts were truly stunning: round and heavy in the palms of his hands. Even in her current position and despite their firmness, they were so heavy that there was a crease at their undersides where they rested on the top of her ribcage. This close, Parker could see the blue veins running just underneath the almost translucent surface skin on the sides of the satiny orbs. He took great pleasure in the fact that he would be the last man for some time to enjoy their soft feel and perhaps his final opportunity to do so before they were damaged forever. He didn't even look into her face. "Got something that'll make her squeal, Jones?" The corporal showed him a long rod of dark wood. Some four feet in length, the rod was made of willow, which had been carefully oiled and polished leaving it supple and strong. The leather-bound handle fitted snugly into his right hand. Jones knew the instrument well. "Very well," said his sergeant. Now, I want just four strokes," he continued, "But all of them here." He pointed at the girls' aureoles. "Just in this area and make every one count. She'll not make fools of us any longer today."

Jones set his jaw in a show of grim determination. Then he stood back and gave his rod a couple of wide-arced practice swings. Rani stared in horror as she watched and listened to the deadly instrument slicing through the heavy air. Her insides were like liquid and a feeling of deep fear and despair began to conquer the earlier resoluteness. She could not bear to imagine what the awful rod would do to her soft breasts, or what excruciating pain it was bound to cause.

There was growing anticipation and excitement among the spectators about the next 'phase'. The chattering had grown louder as they watched the young woman being secured. Some of the first-time invitees clearly found it incredible that, apparently, a young woman was about to be punished in such a way. They had expected to see the victim degraded by being partially stripped. They had expected the whipping of her back, though the savagery and the cruelty of seeing it so close had caught some by surprise. Now, to see that the intention appeared to be to flog her most sensitive woman flesh was, it seemed, beyond the expectations and sense of decency of the few, more compassionate or naïve, in the group. Steele had been half ready for such a reaction and had a response ready. He decided he'd better provide some additional context to help them become more comfortable with the proceedings. He held up his hand to Jones indicating he should wait for a moment.

"I sense discomfort in some of our new guests," he said, reassuringly, "Regarding the substance and form of the punishment sentence being conducted. It is entirely natural for this to seem shocking to those of you unaccustomed to witnessing such scenes. But let me remind you", he continued, looking towards the helpless girl, "That the methods and severity of the sentence being conducted are entirely consistent with the terrible nature of the crimes committed by this woman, who helped organize the massacre of your country-folk: men, women and children. Think especially of the children she helped murder. Our normal rules and punishments are too lenient for this criminal. Feel no pity. She is going to get only what she deserves. Our purpose here today is to ensure that she suffers to the maximum possible and we intend to use all of the means at our disposal to see that this happens. My men have both knowledge and experience in this matter and they know that flogging a woman in this way will cause the utmost suffering. She must pay dearly for what she has done. This woman's physical form lends itself, I'm sure you would agree, to a whipping of this manner. She is very strong and can absorb much punishment". He paused for a moment. " And be in no doubt that it will be long and cruel – so prepare yourselves. However, any one of you gentlefolk is, of course, at liberty to leave at any time. Does anyone wish to leave?" he asked looking carefully from face to face. No one responded. "Good", he concluded. "Then let us now continue with our task."

Much as she had sworn to herself that she would not beg, Rani the sight and sound of the terrible had weakened her will. "Please don't do this", she said quietly, her voice trembling. "It's inhuman. Whip me if you must, but not this way".

Jones smiled. He knew that complete subjugation of his victim was not far away. He had taken a cane to a woman's breasts before, though none so full as those of Rani, and he knew the effect it could have, especially wielded with the strength and timing he had acquired. Furthermore, a caning focused not just on the breasts but only on the victim's nipples would be absolutely unbearable.

"What," he replied equally softly, "And cheat our paying guests of their afternoon's entertainment. I'm afraid not".

He stepped back slowly, not taking his eyes from his tantalizing targets. He drew back the cane slowly. For a moment, the scene of sadistic erotica was held in limbo. Jones looked to his Sergeant, who had moved to the opposite side from him and about half way between the audience and the whipping post, from where he could get a good view of the punishment. He nodded to Jones signifying that he should proceed. The silence was broken as Jones, with his full and substantial strength, swung the cane towards the girl's exposed upper body. The swish of rod through the air ended with a loud but muted 'SLAP!' as the willow sliced deep, deep into the very centers of both thrusting and vulnerable breasts. The wood disappeared completely from view where it struck just below the line of her nipples, the soft flesh enveloped the rod and absorbed the majority of the energy of its savage blow. A fraction of a second later, the poor girl's head whip-lashed back and the first, ear-piercing, tortured scream erupted from her wide-open mouth. It would be the first of many more to come this afternoon. The audience gasped, some incredulous that the ferocity of the lash had not sliced the girls breasts completely in two. Jones smiled with satisfaction.

Captain Steele almost ejaculated into his breeches as he watched the barbaric and sadistic scene. It took all of his British self-control to maintain his outward composure.

The rod was ejected outwards as the resilient tit tissue sprung back into its former shape leaving the two globes shuddering uncontrollably. An initially white stripe across the flesh where the rod had struck was fast turning red and scarlet. Rani's scream had turned into rapid gasps for breath and copious tears streamed down her cheeks. It was a miracle to many watching and a tribute to her great strength that she had not passed out. Thirty or forty seconds passed, allowing Rani both to recover her breath and to contemplate the second lash. With the knowledge she now had of its power, she screamed even as the rod sliced through the air for a second time. SMACK! It bit savagely into her breasts once more, this time just above the sensitive, brown buds. A few of the new women could not avoid turning their heads away, an automatic reaction to the shock at seeing the thin rod smack ferociously again into the spongy flesh of the tortured girl's opulent bosom. "AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!" Rani let out another high-pitched wail of sheer pain as the soft mounds of flesh were smashed into her chest wall once more. Again, the young woman managed to remain conscious, though she wished, with all her heart, that she could faint into an oblivion, which would release her from the awful pain.

Two gone and two to go of this short segment. And Jones intended to make the most of them. Caning the tits, he pondered to himself, never failed to break them. Filled with renewed energy from his success and having had two lashes with which to practice his aim, the third stroke was more powerful than ever and it struck both nerve-rich nipples square on. This, most cruel of lashes, had the young woman straining to breaking point in her efforts to wrench free from her bonds and escape the agonizing rod. She writhed, screaming in her tight ropes, flinging her huge tits from side to side in reaction to the horrendous pain she was being forced to endure. A third, horizontal stripe sprang up across the centers of both gourds, split by the cleft between them. Jones let another minute pass so that his victim could come to rest once more and he could place his lash more accurately across the nipples once more.

"No, No, I beg you", pleaded Rani, gasping for breath. "No more like this. I would rather die….plee…"

Her pitiful plea was interrupted by the swishing rod, as it cut, again, with unbelievable ferocity into the breast flesh of the helpless young woman. Fortunately for Rani, while the blow was cruel enough, it missed it's intended targets and landed lower across the dark skin of her broad aureoles, lifting up the weighty orbs as it did so. Another ear-splitting scream rent the Lucknow air before Rani slumped exhausted and gasping in her bondage and with tears streaming down her contorted young face.

The Captain approached, more than satisfied with the progress thus far. "Well done Jones", he said, "That got the bitch's attention, I think." He nodded to the sergeant who gave quiet orders to his men and they moved in to untie the girl from her present position. As her wrists were released from the bindings, Rani automatically grasped her lashed bosom with both hands in an effort to slightly relieve the burning agony. The respite did not last long.

The glimmer of hope that her pain was over, quickly faded for Rani as the soldiers pushed her back against the heavy timber and each took hold of one of her slender wrists, pulling her hands away from their protective positions. There was to be no protection for these wondrous gifts with which she was endowed. She was facing the leering crowd now. Through the still terrible pain in her breasts, she scanned their faces and found little pity. She saw only sadistic excitement.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt the brutes to either side tying her slender wrists to the rungs at either end of the cross-bar. Her upper body was completely exposed and vulnerable once more. Rani remembered now the talk of the straps. They pulled the ropes taught until the muscles in her arms were stretched tight and she stood on her tiptoes with most of her weight held by her wrists. Her chest heaved, the giant mounds had lifted a little and were slightly separated by the position of her arms. Two men then set about tying her ankles to the base of the post while the other two ran a rope three times around her waist. After each loop, they took an end each of the rope and with their full strength, pulled it tight constricting her waist and pushing the air out of her lungs. The course hemp almost disappeared in the folds of flesh around her abdomen. This done, they passed another rope across the top of her chest and armpits, pulling strenuously once more to tighten the binding to the maximum extent. With two loops here, the rope was tied off at the back of the post. Finally, the same procedure was carried out around her wide hips. There had obviously been very clear instructions about the way in which Rani was to be bound for the next phase of the punishment. Captain Steele moved in front of Rani to check the work.

"One more", he ordered. "Under the tits." The soldiers eagerly obeyed. They delighted in lifting up each of the weighty, lash-marked gourds to position their final rope, sliding it up so that it rested snugly where the velvety undersides met her ribcage. The thick rope also served to lift the globes further and provide a little support. Twice the rope was wrapped around the girl's upper ribs then wrenched tight like the others and tied off. She was utterly immobile. Only her head could she move, as she did, slowly from side to side, as she gasped for breath, trying to expand her lungs against the constriction of the ropes. The Captain approached. This was perfect, he thought. He grasped her waist and tried to move her, watching to see how much the breasts moved. Satisfied, he lifted the left one with the palm of his hand, still surprised by its considerable weight and still intrigued by the feel of the malleable flesh in his fingers. It was at one and the same time, soft and firm, heavy and full. She winced in pain as he ran his thumb once more across the huge, dark, lash-marked aureole. He inspected the melon-sized mammaries closely. Now they could continue with their work and with great accuracy. Every lash would be placed exactly where desired.

"Very well", he concluded. "We are ready to continue with the prisoner's flogging."

Rani grimaced as her tender, welted back rubbed against the rough timber. Sergeant Parker and Corporal Jones approached her. The sergeant laid his rough hands on Rani's breasts. He took Rani's nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed them hard turning to the Corporal once more.

"Just a dozen with the light willow rod Jones. Spread the lashes", he said, " But don't forget to continue to pay special attention here," he added pulling on the brown buds, causing Rani to grimace and then rubbing his thumbs across the broad aureoles. Separately, mind you. Six to each one. Make her scream for mercy. Then we'll give you a rest and have two of the Indians soften up the rest of these ripe melons with the straps".

"Aye, Sir", he replied. "It'll be my pleasure". This was another opportunity to make her really pay. She would beg for anything by the time he had completed this next segment of her punishment. He went to his rack to select a tool capable of delivering the order he had been given. He doubted that this Indian girl would be conscious after even half a dozen. Rani was in a state of limbo between horror and shock after hearing the men talk about their intentions. The whipping of her back had been terrible. The lashing of her tender nipples had been worse than anything she had ever imagined. But now she feared even more for the pain, which would be caused by the continued whipping of her soft and vulnerable breasts. And she was now bound in a way, to take maximum advantage of that vulnerability. In this position her bust was thrust out from her chest in an exaggerated fashion, almost asking to be molested. She tried hard to remain calm and regain her composure.

Jones had returned holding a fearful looking rod, which he had selected from his rack.

Rani stared at the vicious looking instrument, aghast, trying to imagine what kind of unthinkable agony it would give rise to when lashed across her bosom. The rod was similar in look to the one that had been used a few minutes before. However, this one was more slender and slightly shorter. Three-quarters of an inch thick at the leather-bound handle, it tapered evenly along its length to a fine point. Jones tested it with a few practice swings as he walked to his new position. The cane made a menacing, but higher pitched 'swish' as it cut more easily through the heavy air and he greatly enjoyed its feel. Jones walked purposefully to a position to Rani's right. There was another hush of intense anticipation. The captain could hardly contain his excitement as he watched the scene unfold. Rani's chest heaved in fear and she stared at the corporal as he casually prepared himself. Jones allowed the tension to mount, allowing the anticipation to mature for a full minute. The, slowly he drew back the rod. With awesome force and a sickening 'SLAP!' the slender rod cut fearfully into her heavy, right breast, a fraction of an inch above the protruding nipple. The portion of willow which struck the target, was buried in the soft flesh yielded and enveloped it. The breast was split into two smaller mounds for a moment before the youthful, resilient tissue re-formed and pushed back the offending article. There was another unified gasp from many women in the audience.

A few of the more sensitive of them even turned their heads away for a moment. Rani's eyes closed tight, the back of her head struck the post and after a second to recover the breath which had been shocked out of her, the first real scream erupted from her parted lips. Jones smiled. "Twenty-nine!" came the loud, impassionate count from the sergeant. Even though he had just missed the nipple itself, Jones had made a satisfactory impact. He watched the line of his lash turn from white to dark pink as the blood, first forced out of the skin, suddenly flowed back into the damaged area. But he was grateful to see that the skin was not broken. He had feared, for a moment, that in his anger, he might have overdone it too early. Before Rani could regain any of her senses, the rod whistled down once more. This time Jones was precisely on his target and the supple wood lashed directly into the rubbery teat which protruded just half an inch out from the curve of her breast. 'THWOP.' The noise was muted as the flesh around the rod absorbed the energy, which would otherwise have been have been emitted as sound. This was not like the 'CRACK' of the whip on the taught skin of her back. The compliant meat of her bosom absorbed almost all of the energy of the lash and spread it, in the form of excruciating pain, through her whole breast. She screamed, louder than before, as the cane ravaged her most sensitive parts and caused the full flesh of the molested mammary to shake violently while the rest of her body remained immobile. "Thirty!"

'SMACK' The third terrible, gut wrenching stroke bit deep, deep into the breast tissue, even before it had come to rest after the impact of the previous blow, this one an inch or so below the nipple, which now swelled slowly. Rani's mouth opened wide again and she wailed in pain. "Thirty-one!" came the shout. In spite of the terrible pain of the rod and the terror of what was still to come, she somehow managed to strengthen her resolve a little during the brief respite. She remained determined to resist utter humiliation for as long as she could. She would rather die than to give them what they wanted – her total subjugation. Sweat glistened on the dark skin of her spectacular upper body. The ropes bit deeply into her flesh, particularly around her torso and especially when she breathed in. Her chest rose and fell as she did so. She braced herself for Jones' next onslaught. He was more determined than ever to have her screaming for mercy in short order. He saw in her eyes that she remained resilient. But she had only felt three of these most barbarous and savage lashes. There were nine still to go. Her eyes closed tight as his rod swished again through the air once more. 'SMACK!' Perspiration sprayed off the skin of the glorious mound as the cane sliced, with seemingly even greater force than before, into the upper half of the right aureole. "AAAAAAAAARGH!" the girl let out a rasping scream as her tit flesh was cleft in two for an instant before bouncing and shuddering violently upon her chest from the savage blow. Another bright welt sprung up on the silky skin. One or two more small gasps could be heard from the more sensitive female spectators. They stared, transfixed, half in horror half with excitement at the unimaginable cruelty they were witnessing. 'THWAP'. Another brutal stroke cut into the girl's body. The higher pitch of the scream of agony which followed, gave indication that the lash had struck directly into the girl's tender nipple. Indeed, a few moments after the spongy tissue had expelled the rod, it was clear that the nub had been split and dark blood began to ooze from the wound. The effect was clearly the worst she had suffered so far because the howl continued for longer and she shook her head vigorously from side to side. It was the only movement over which she had control. Motivated by his success, Jones gave her another, straight after, in exactly the same spot, splattering the blood across her aureole. The poor girl let out an ear splitting wail as her tender, damaged nipple was smacked and crushed again by the merciless rod.

"Stop", ordered Parker. He approached his corporal. "Careful, Jones", he said. "We don't want the prisoner expiring on us too early. Move to the other tit and carry on."

Jones moved a little to his right to position himself for the lashing of Rani's left breast.

She stared fearfully at the rod, breathless, her chest heaving within the tight constraints of the bindings. The nightmare was to continue.

Jones drew his arm back once more, staring at the perfect full, curve of the flesh he was about to damage. SWISH!…THWACK! The savage blow struck the smooth dusky skin horizontally, half an inch above the nipple, and the wood sunk deep into the dense tissue. The helpless young woman squealed as the intense pain shot through her most tender flesh once more and the nerve-rich aureoles were ravaged again by the lash.

"Thirty-four", came the call. Rani's breathing came fast and heavy now. 'SMACK!' Jones' rod sunk into her left breast again, this time a direct hit on the firm nubbin which was smashed into the flesh behind it until the hard bone of her rib-cage prevented further deformation. "AAAAARGHHH" The tortured girl wailed again. "Noooo….please…no more…..No…. Her plea was abruptly cut-off by the next stroke. 'SMACK!' The flexible rod sliced into tender woman-flesh once more, below the left nipple.

"Thirty-six."

Stop", ordered the Captain, much to the disgust of Jones' who was about to lay another lash into his senseless victim. But the officer did not want the young captive to expire too quickly. They would have to tone down the severity for a while in order that she could remain conscious and suffer the fullest sentence.

"Freshen up the prisoner Sergeant Parker", he ordered. "Then pick two of your Indians to continue with the straps. No count Parker", he added, "Three minutes duration. At their own pace."

Jones had fetched a bucket of water. With little ceremony, he stood in front of her and threw the water over her face and chest. Rani coughed and spluttered, unprepared for the drenching. She shook her head and blinked her eyes. Parker, in the meantime had selected his turbaned Indian soldiers who were each picking a heavy strap from the rack of tools. The straps were identical. Heavy lengths of leather, about two inches wide, a quarter inch thick and some two and a half feet long. Short bound handles afforded the instruments a good grip.

"OK, my lads", said Parker to the grinning soldiers. "Do your duty. Tenderize those ripe melons good and proper."

The enlisted men moved to their positions. One, bearded, was picked because he was left-handed and he stood to Rani's left. The other, clean-shaven, moved to her right. This was an added humiliation for the proud, well-bred woman. Two men of low caste were to have the great pleasure to punish a high caste woman in the most humiliating and painful manner. They relished the task. "Take it in turns", said Jones. "One lash at a time. Begin!"

Rani braced herself, her eyes raised up to the clear blue sky.

'SLAP!' Strap of the bearded one smacked hard into the fullness of her left breast flattening the flesh. Rani gasped. Not like the rod, but bad enough, landing directly on the nipple. Only a couple of seconds passed before the right handed man brought his strap heavily down upon the top of her right breast and dragging it roughly to the side causing the mound of flesh to shake wildly. Even before the left mammary had come to rest from the first blow, the second came thudding into its lower curve, the force lifting it up high on her chest. 'SMACK!' Another landed to the right, smashing the soft tissue hard into her upper ribs. She gasped hard with each stroke. Red bands began to appear on the smooth, tawny flesh, less fiery than the marks of the rod but covering a much broader area. The two soldiers, clearly enjoying their jobs, were getting into a rhythm now. 'SMACK'! 'THWOP'! The thick straps ravaged the helpless girl's tender woman-flesh. A minute went by. The heavy, giant pear shape orbs swayed from side to side and became more crimson in color. They began to swell too, from the terrible beating as blood flowed into the increasingly damaged tissue. Rani's face was turned skywards, contorted in agony, teeth gritted. Fifty, sixty lashes. People had lost count. All protocol had long since been ignored and the stroke count had stopped. Small flecks of blood appeared where the lashes had struck most frequently and blood flowed freely now from the wounded right nipple. Two minutes went by. Rani's shrieks were diminishing and had become grunts after each lash. After about two and a half minutes, her head slumped forward as she fainted, mercifully, from the pain.

"Stop!" came the captain's order once more. "Revive the prisoner, Jones. Then complete the phase. There is a minute and a half remaining". Another bucket of water was brought by Jones. Once more, he threw its contents over the head of the limp girl. She came around again, coughing up the water which she had breathed into her lungs. She made a pitiful sight as she raised her head and realized once more where she was, sensing the pain in her swollen breasts. They gave her a minute to recover. Her eyes became wide with horror as she saw the two soldiers take up their positions again and realized they were about to continue. Before they did so, Sergeant Parker approached her. "Not quite so cocky now, are we, my pretty", he said to her, his face only a foot from hers. For an ill-considered moment, rage took over Rani's better judgment and, gathering all of her will, she spat violently in the face of the sergeant. There was a surprised response from the crowd and some sniggering laughter. The sergeant stepped back, enraged and humiliated as well as amazed that the woman had such spirit.

The Captain, too, was surprised. This female was strong-willed and resilient, indeed. It was good, he thought. It would make for a longer punishment and her resolve would be broken in the end….all the more time to live out his deepest fantasies in the whipping of her stupendous breasts.

"Permission to use the whip on the cow's tit's Captain", the angry sergeant asked, turning to his senior officer. "Permission denied Sergeant", was the reply. "I don't want the prisoner expiring too soon. Be patient. Continue with the straps."

"Aye sir", said Parker. Still furious, he grabbed a strap from the soldier to his right. "I'll show you pansies how to use this," he seethed.

He stood in front of Rani, about five feet away. He brought the strap over-arm and down vertically, smacking its final six inches hard into her left globe, directly over the nipple.

"AAAARGH" she screamed as the renewed pain surged through her bosom.

"THWAP!" Again he used the same motion to punish the same area again. Two vertical stripes appeared on the Rani's pain-filled left tit, now streaked with some purple amongst the fiery red. Every muscle in her voluptuous body strained to their limit as the onslaught of lashes continued to her left breast. After ten strokes he moved to the right and began the same procedure, using all the strength he possessed.

"Beg me for mercy, you bitch", he shouted. "Beg me and I'll stop."

"AAAAAAGGHHH….Nooooo……Never……..AAAAARRRRRGGGHHH".

Ten more brutal lashes slapped hard into the flesh of her right globe.

"Enough", came the call from the captain, having to shout over the screams of the tortured woman. "Time's up."

Reluctantly, Steele stopped and moved away, breathing heavily from his exertions. Rani also breathed rapidly, moaning, her chest heaving up and down.

"Surgeon," ordered the captain, "Your assessment please."

Chattering broke out among the spectators as the doctor reviewed the bound girl. He lifted her head and opened her eyes with his thumb, one at a time. Then he lifted, prodded and fondled the swollen red breasts. He returned to talk with the captain. Parker joined to help make a judgment on how to proceed. The doctor suggested that if they wanted to proceed with flogging as the chosen form of punishment, they should move their attention to a different area of the girl's body if they wanted to prolong the punishment for as long as possible.

The men talked for a few moments while the spectators conversed and speculated about what might be next.

Captain Steele spoke to his men. "Untie the prisoner", he ordered, "And bring over the whipping bench."

Two soldiers went to the heavy wooden bench situated behind the post while two others began to untie Rani who was, by now, fully conscious once more. So heavy was the bench, that the two Indian soldiers had trouble carrying it to the front of the post. Twice they had to put it down and rest. Its weight was a result not only of the solid wood from which it was constructed, but also the many heavy iron rungs fitted along its sides. The other two soldiers had released the wretched Rani from her constricting bondage and she stood between them to the right side of the post while the bench was maneuvered into position. They positioned it perpendicular to the post such that its length was pointing towards the spectators. The end opposite the crowd was placed firmly against the base of the post and then attached to it by ropes connecting rungs fixed in the sides of both the bench and the base of the post. Having fixed one end, the men moved then to the opposite end. Here, two lugs fitted into the base of the bench lined up over two holes bored into a stone in the courtyard floor. Heavy bolts were placed through each lug then screwed tightly into place. The bench was now immovable. Quite why the bench needed to be so well fixed would become apparent to those ignorant of the proceedings, in a short while.

"Very well", said Steele to his men, "Let's have the prisoners' lower garments removed and get her on the bench."

Rani screamed out as soon as she knew they meant to strip her completely.

"No….no….you cannot do this", she pleaded. "Leave me some dignity. Do what you must, but let me keep the remainder of my clothes".

"Remove the pants, or whatever they call them", ordered Steele, "Now!"

One eager Indian soldier took his knife and cut the cord around her lower waist. He was able, then to pull down the salwar-kameez to her ankles. Rani cried in shame as her wide, shapely hips, her long legs were exposed to all. Eyes roamed up and down her naked flesh, most, resting eventually, on the enticing triangle of thick, curly jet-black hair at her crotch.

"Get her onto the bench", ordered Parker, taking over the management of affairs from his leader. "On her back.", he added. "And then secure her from the waist up."

The four soldiers did as they were bid, pushing the struggling and ashamed young woman onto the timber. Through the embarrassment, she wondered, as did others, what they had in store for her next. Did they mean to punish the fronts of her thighs, her stomach?

She didn't have long to find out. They placed her on her back. A couple of men tied her wrists to the rungs on either side of the post while two more went to work securing her upper body to the bench with heavy ropes at her waist and above and below the magnificent turrets of her breasts, which gravity, in this position had flattened slightly and caused to fall away a little, to either side of her chest. She continued to struggle and at the same time tried to keep her silky thighs tightly together and avoid as far as possible any exposure of her most intimate parts to the lecherous onlookers. But her efforts were cruelly thwarted when the order came which horrified the helpless girl.

"Very well", said Parker, "Now you lot", he ordered, pointing at four of his Indian subordinates, "Tie each of her ankles back to the cross-beam." They did as they were commanded. Two of them grabbed an ankle each and pulled her smooth, light-brown legs apart. The other two tied tight ropes around each ankle leaving long loose pieces free. These were threaded through each of the rungs in the cross-beam; the same ones which had secured Rani's pretty wrists only a few minutes before. Pulling on the free ends of the ropes, the legs of the shocked young woman were pulled upwards and apart, exposing her most intimate parts. The pink gash at the apex of her thighs grew wider as the men pulled on the cords, causing first the outer, then the inner labial lips to part and her clitoris to become exposed. Rani moaned in abject shame as her womanhood was crudely displayed. This was the ultimate indignity for one so proud and bred into such a high caste. Clearly visible also, was the puckered, dark brown anus in the center of the widening cleft between her smooth buttocks. The moans of shame turned to pain as the men pulled the cords as hard as they could, stretching the poor girl's legs tightly into an unnatural and obscene position, before tying them off to hooks lower down in the sides of the post. The bondage also caused her lower back and buttocks to be raised up off the bench

Of course, the fascinated audience chattered noisily all through the activity, sharing observations about the lurid scene unfolding before them. With their prisoner now stripped of dignity as well as clothing, the sadistic sergeant continued with his task.

"Fetch a heavy caliber cane, Parker," said Steele, "And lay two dozen strokes across those thighs and buttocks."

Parker already knew which of his savage instruments of torture he would select. He picked the longest rod on the rack. Fashioned from English birch, the dark straw-colored rod was four and a half feet in length. At the grip it measured three-quarters of an inch in diameter and it tapered evenly along its length to about half of that at the tip. It had been cured so that about ten percent water content remained, giving it remarkable flexibility. And Parker had cared for his favorite toy by frequent applications of linseed oil to further increase its suppleness and its ability to conform to the contours of the female body it had been designed to torment.

Silence reigned again in the courtyard. The audience was transfixed to the Corporal and his menacing new weapon. Parker swished the vicious rod swiftly though the air, both to get re-accustomed to the weight and also to impress those who watched. They were, indeed, impressed. Especially the helpless girl whose young flesh awaited its fearsome lash. From her Rani strained her head around to look behind her and saw the powerful man approaching once again. The tone of the rod's swish was low, reflecting its mass and its power. Combined with the now obvious strength of Parker, it was clear to all, that the impact of its lash on the backs of Rani's satiny thighs and on her round, unblemished bottom, would be quite horrific. Rani's breathing quickened again as her heartbeat increased with the renewed fear of the impending flogging. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of horror and disbelief. It seemed she had lost the will to resist any longer. She had done nothing to deserve such barbaric treatment and it was incredible to her that these people could inflict such awful punishment in such a cold-blooded and systematic fashion. And while the thought of the rod across her buttocks was bad enough, the position of her legs spread wide apart made her fear even more the plans these monsters might have for her most sensitive woman-flesh. It was unthinkable.

"Please," she moaned. "I cannot take any more. Its inhuman, what you are doing….please…"

Parker ignored the pitiful pleas, anxious to get on with his sadistic duties. He moved into his preferred position in front and to the left of the bench as viewed by the spectators. He gazed for some seconds upon the beautiful skin of the girl's legs and buttocks and also on the pink flesh between the spread lips of her sex. He felt sure there would be an opportunity to lay a few lashes across that super-sensitive area between her generous thighs.

To be continued

tied her wrists together in front of her. They pulled her around to the left side (from the spectators perspective) of the post. Pushing her back against the side of the upright, they took another rope and attached it to her bound wrists and then threaded the loose end of that rope through the rung on the underside of the cross-beam, which was positioned about two and a half feet from the upright. While one soldier then pushed her so her back was pressed against the side of the post, the other tied her at the waist again to the upright. In this position, facing outwards to the crowd's left, her torso was angled slightly forward from the waist. Her breasts were thrust outward and pressed together by the position of her upper arms, accentuating them even more. Her nipples, flaccid in the hot, mid-day heat, pointed straight outwards, horizontally, toward the frame of instruments.

"I want her more tightly restrained", said the Sergeant to his men. "She can move her body too freely." He thought for a moment. "Move the rope at her waist down the her hips." They obeyed their order. The Sergeant himself then fetched a longish rope and from behind the post ran it across the top of Rani's chest and under her arms. "Here", he said, "Tie this off tight so her shoulders are pressed hard against the wood. That should do it". One of the men took the rope ends from the officer and pulled them tight bringing her shoulders back against the post and extending and stretching her arms which were fixed to the rung at the wrists.

, bisecting both tender nipples and flattening the resilient tissue against her chest. There was an audible gasp from the crowd. Only those most hardened to such spectacles were able to remain unmoved by the brutality. The novices were sure that the poor girl would surely be sliced in two by the blow. The parts of the cane making contact literally disappeared from view as they were enveloped in the voluptuous flesh of the twin globes. At the same moment Rani's head snapped backward then a half second later, a scream erupted from her widely parted lips clearly reflecting the shockwave of agony which exploded through her body. The cane fell away leaving a white line split by the cleavage of her bouncing and quivering bosom, which quickly turned fiery red as the blood surged into the tissue underneath the damaged skin. The ravaged orbs came to rest after a moment but the girl's scream continued for some seconds more until she began gasping for breath. As she regained a modicum of composure, Rani knew that her huge efforts to maintain her dignity and pride would not be enough to overcome this most barbaric torture. The agony was completely unbearable. She was already beginning to lose control. Before she had even taken in it's full impact and pain, the willow whistled through the air again. A second, horizontal stroke sliced the into the aureoles, just above her nipples, with even greater force than the first. The full force of the cane once again was completely absorbed by the soft flesh with a loud, wet 'THWAP" sound which echoed around the courtyard. The helpless young woman shrieked again as the agony of the lash ripped right into her core. Indescribable pain filled her ravaged mammary glands. It took all of her considerable willpower to limit her reaction to a long scream. For a moment she felt a compelling urge to beg for mercy, to offer anything they wanted so that this excruciating torture would cease. But her pride and anger re-emerged dominant in her senses and she remained quiet.

Jones knew she was getting close to breaking, though. He knew no woman could withstand this form of brutal punishment for very long.

While Jones was evidently pleased with the results of the change of approach in the punishment sentence and clearly relishing the task, his captain was not so satisfied. His sadistic desire to ensure this woman suffered to the greatest extent possible was overwhelming. While the whipping was quite barbaric and obviously causing huge suffering to the helpless girl, he wanted perfection. In this position she still had too much room to move and in her frantic efforts to escape the lash, her body writhed and her breasts swayed and bounced making it difficult to land the rod precisely across the broad aureoles and nipples. He wanted total control; the ability to strike this female's enormous breasts exactly where he desired.

"Stop!", he ordered. Jones, more than a little annoyed that his enjoyment had been interrupted, ceased his lashing.

"Men", he ordered, "Untie the prisoner and re-tie her to the front of the frame, facing the gallery. Bind her with the utmost security so that she is unable to move her body even a fraction of an inch".

The men went to their task once more. They released the breathless Rani from her bindings and dragged her to the front of the frame once more.

Use the strap, a heavy one mind, for this next session." Jones went to pick the required implement. "Twenty lashes to each." added Steele.

Jones had picked a wicked looking strap. Two and half inch wide and a quarter inch thick, the leather was split at the end for about a third of its three foot length. The other end was bound with thin cord to make a grip

"One more thing for this next phase", he said. "Give me some thin leather cord." A soldier brought him two lengths of thin cord. He took one and slid it under the curve of Rani's right breast until it met the hidden crease where it's base met her rib-cage. He looped it around and crossed the cord on the top, pulling the ends tightly and constricting the full flesh. Rani looked down in horror and some pain as the meat at the base of her tit was cruelly constricted causing the breast itself to swell out like a balloon. "What,,,,what are you going to do?", she asked in a trembling tone. Captain Steele smiled, enjoying the power he wielded and the terror he was able to impart to the helpless girl. "Since you ask", he said, "Just firming up the flesh of this udder of yours so that Jones' implements can bite more effectively." "Please...", she pleaded softly. "No more. Have you not punished me enough." Steele grinned. "My dear, we have not yet even begun to make you pay." Three times more, he wrapped the cord around the breast as close to her chest as possible. When he had finished and tied the ends, her breast looked like a soccer ball, the flesh taught and the aureole even bigger than before with the short, fat nipple pointing straight out from the distended globe.

Now only the ravages of their whips would cause the massive orbs to move .

"Let me just check the difference between them now," he said. He drew back his arm and without warning slapped hard, the left side of Rani's free right tit with the palm of his hand. It made a satisfying loud 'SLAP' and the fleshy hemisphere shook violently from the blow. 'Smack!' Again he slapped the breast as hard as he could. Rani yelped. Then he moved a little to his left and brought the palm of his hand hard down onto the now harder right tit. A different sound, the firm flesh absorbing much less of the energy.

Jack was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. There was no way he was letting his loud-mouthed sidekick have first crack at Teresa's delicious orbs after he had gone to the trouble of tyin' em up in such a pretty package.

Teresa looked from one to the other in horror -- the cane's bite had been appallingly painful before; the thought of Black Jack Slocum whipping her excruciatingly sensitive bound breasts with the wooden rod he was pounding into his palm was inconceivable.

Ernie looked a little glum, but assented. "OK, Jack." Ernie, as always, was deferential to the senior partner of the firm Slocum & Gibbs.

"Back against the bar, mija; you're gonna need somethin' to hold you up." Black Jack Slocum bared his fangs at Teresa as she tremulously backed up until the backs of her thighs pressed against a pair of barstools. Ernie moved one of the stools out of the way, and Jack the other, and then Jack put the jagged tip of the broken broom handle into her belly button and pushed her backwards until her hips were flush against the edge of the bar.

Ernie had overcome his initial irritation; this promised to be good! With every passing second, Teresa's breast bondage seemed to make her tits swell up bigger and harder and rounder as they mushroomed boldly outward from the constricting breast-ropes.

"I'm fixin' to take me a little batting practice Teresa," Jack grinned. "Less'n you decide you wanna tell my third base coach, here, what you done with his money?"

It hadn't occurred to Ernie before, but in their trussed-up state, Teresa's boobs did somewhat resemble a seamless pair of tawny, cocoa-tipped softballs. He couldn't wait to get his own hands on those babies, now that they were cinched into swollen spheres of pain!

Teresa's dark eyes were almost catatonic; she stared at Jack's weapon disbelievingly. But she did not, or could not, speak.

Jack stood slightly to Teresa's right and a few feet back -- far enough way to build up some speed in his stroke.

"Batter up!" Ernie called out. "Step right up to the plate, partner,' Ernie cheered, "and let's see you lay into them beisbols! They called him "Joltin' Jack, The Texas Thunderbolt" back in east Texas, mija. Sweetest home run swing you ever saw!'

Teresa's tear-filled dark eyes were aghast with horrified disbelief. "No...no.. you can't.."

"Yeah, but I'm a little outa practice, Ern. But let's see if I can't smack me a double," Jack grinned as he leered down at the bloated brown-tipped spheres that so provocatively protruded from the tit-choking ropes.

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Jack swept his cudgel back with one hand and, then using an uppercut motion he swung it rapidly upward toward the taut undercurves of Teresa's bulging lust-globes with a swing worthy of the great Cap Anson himself.

WHUPPPPPP!!!, the improvised bat embedded itself deep in Teresa's abused breastflesh, its jagged end raking her left breast.

"Aaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiieeeeeaahhhh!!" Teresa screamed, as she sank to her knees in unspeakable agony.

"Stand up, slut," Jack barked. "I fouled that one off. I'm going for the fences next time. Andale!"

As their tortured prisoner struggled to her feet, Ernie noted that Jack's swing had opened up a fresh gash a little below the nipple on Teresa's swollen left breast.

"Yeahhh, you got some good wood on that one, Jackson," Ernie enthused, as a second thin stream of crimson began to flow. "But you got under that one a little. Let's see you straighten out that swing this time."

Jack grinned down at his diminutive companion. And then, like a good batsman, he practiced his stroke by slowly taking the blood-stained rod back on a horizontal plane and then deliberately bringing it forward, until it softly kissed the points of Teresa's rigid brown nipples, daubing the left one blood-red as it did so. Twice more he repeated this motion, grooving his stroke. The tasty-looking tips of Teresa's breasts were visibly quivering in terror.

"Hold still, darlin'," Jack warned, "Or I'm gettin' out the matches again." Teresa took a deep breath trying to compose herself -- anything was better than the infernal matches.

"That's better," Jack acknowledged and he took the rod all the way back, extending his long and powerful right arm to its fullest, and then swept it forward with a savagery that would have propelled a baseball to the deepest reaches of a Texas ballfield.

"WHHUPPPPPP!!!!" This time the solid wooden rod unleashed every scintilla of its violent energy on the very centers of Teresa's breasts, hammering her dark chocolate nipple-buds violently back into the surrounding breastflesh. Once again the rough edges of the club-end stabbed into her swollen globe.

"AAAAAAAUGGGGHHHHHAAAAAHH!!!" Teresa screamed the screams of the damned, as she absorbed the atrocious punishment. Once again she crumpled slowly to the floor, where she knelt between the domineering twosome, choking back sobs of pain.

Amazingly, though, when Jack had pulled the broomhandle back, Teresa's battered brown nipple-nuggets had sprung back at him with a youthful resilience that was remarkable to behold.

Jack had to give her credit. He had ripped into her tits with everything he had, but still she would not talk. He was more than ever convinced that Teresa didn't have Ernie's dough.

But Ernie wasn't. He had been concealing something behind his back since he'd come out of the kitchen.

"Sorry, sweetie. We ain't done with you yet. And we won't be until I get my dough! On yer feet!"

The raven-haired Latina once again climbed unsteadily to her feet, her face streaked with tears, her breathing ragged.

"N-n-no ... please

The Captain recognized the surprise and slight degree of shock in the expressions and body language of some of the dozen or so newcomers, especially the women. He decided to provide some additional context to help them become more comfortable with the proceedings.

"I sense some discomfort," he said, reassuringly, "Among some of our new guests regarding the substance and form of the punishment sentence being conducted. It is entirely natural for this to seem shocking to those of you unaccustomed to witnessing such scenes. But let me remind you that the methods and severity of the sentence being employed are entirely consistent with the terrible nature of the crimes committed by this woman who helped organize the massacre of your countrymen and women. Our purpose here today is to ensure that she suffers the to the maximum possible and we intend to use all of the means at our disposal to see that this happens. My men have both knowledge and experience of this with both men and women. They know that