The Bad Girl Lesson

Taken from the Dark Age Play Thriller:


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here’s a little story about what bad girls need to learn.


The Bad Girl Lesson –

Lilah shivered from the chill in the air, whimpering quietly into her gag and weeping slightly, her voice echoing all around.  Her new location was in an area much more spacious than that tiny chilly room where she awoke a little while ago.  But for how spacious this new location was when compared to that tiny room earlier, she wasn’t able to roam around at all.  The roominess was lost to the fact that she currently found herself in what she believed to be a dog cage.

She had no way of being certain it was a dog cage as she was still blindfolded.  Her wrists, no longer tied with ropes, were now adorned with cuffs and attached to the bottom of the cage.  Similarly, her ankles, no longer duct taped together, were now in ankle cuffs and also attached to the bottom of the cage.  This put her on her hands and knees.  What kept her in that position was the additive of a dog collar – put tightly around her neck and attached to the top of the cage.  She couldn’t lay down or slouch or move much at all.  And with the ball gag still filling her mouth, she wouldn’t be alerting anyone of her predicament any time soon.  In a tattered and cut silk camisole and a now heavily soiled diaper, Lilah shivered – thirsty, hungry and trying her best to keep her wits about her.  How she wound up there was just as disturbing as this entire ordeal had been.  It was one long nightmare with no conclusion.

After having been smacked around, groped, made to empty her bowels and left hanging on a hook, Lilah was taken out of that tiny cold room.  Her ankles were freed of duct tape and she was briskly walked down what sounded like a hallway.  But it had a dirt floor, the soles of her feet becoming cut several times by sharp edges of rock on the path.

Then there was the struggle at the cage itself, Lilah being bent over the top of it as ankle cuffs and a collar were put on her.  If she hadn’t resisted them, she probably wouldn’t have been struck with that leather belt and thusly, wouldn’t have bruises at this point.  But she would shortly start to comply.  And with quite a bit of screaming, she was instructed to back into the cage until she was completely inside it.  Crying into the ball gag, she did as she was told – getting onto her knees and crawling backwards into the cage – at which point her wrists were untied and put into wrists cuffs.  In a blinking of an eye, her wrists and ankles were attached to the side of the cage and then that collar was attached to the top of the cage – choking her until she stopped fighting against it.  Then she was left alone, the sounds of two sets of footsteps walking away.

And now here she was, still in that hands-n-knees kneeling position and no longer aware of how long she had been there in that cage.  She also had no idea of how long she had been captive altogether.  Everything just blurred together, the results of an eerie mind-fucking.

Her stomach growled, a sign of not having eaten anything since lunchtime of the day when she was kidnapped – however long ago that was.  Her mouth had run dry, preventing further drooling from happening and leading her opened lips to begin to chap around the ball gag.  Having consumed no food or liquids for nearly a day, she was physically alright still – no different than fasting.  But given the conditions she had been kept in and the lack of stimulus other than sounds, her mind was beginning the first stages of separation from the present.  Randomly, she would drift off – taking herself to a happier place in an attempt to mentally survive what was happening to her.

But just as she was raptured in a field of flowers on a sunny day in a cute little summer dress while chasing butterflies, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped her back to the present.  Softly, she whimpered – not knowing what to expect next.

Suddenly, a swift kick to the side of the cage rattled the thin bars – making her begin to tremble uncontrollably.  Her wrist and ankle cuffs were detached from the cage as was the dog collar around her neck, Lilah slumping down to the bottom of the cage in relief as the cage door opened.  If her mouth hadn’t been filled with a ball gag, she would have said thank you.  Her existence had been so reduced that the slightest acts of kindness warranted massive appreciation from her.  But she had no way of showing this appreciation. 

Her collar was attached to a dog leash a split second before she was yanked out of the cage by that leash.  Back up onto her hands-n-knees she was forced as she then crawled quickly after the person who had done this to her.  She had no idea where she was being led and she assumed it was the deep voiced male again – an assumption she was able to confirm when his cell phone rang. 

“Yeah.  This is Hiram,” the deep voiced man said, answering his phone, identifying his voice to Lilah and giving new information too.

Hiram?  What kind of a name was Hiram?  Well, it really didn’t matter to Lilah.  Now she knew at least a little something about him.  It was better than nothing.

Concentrating a little more on listening to Hiram’s conversation on the phone as opposed to keeping up the pace of her crawling, Lilah soon found herself wincing from what felt like a riding crop being struck to the backs of her thighs – encouraging her to keep up her speed.  But that was easier said than done.  The sharp edges of small stones of the dirt floor in a hallway that seemed like it would never end kept her struggling to keep up with the pace of his steps.  Then again, when she was taken out of that cold small room and made to walk down this same hallway, it felt like forever that she was walking.  So why shouldn’t the return trip back be just as long?  And it seemed Hiram, the deep voiced male, was more focused on his conversation than on anything else.

“Oh, he did open the email?  Good. I trust he saw the pictures,” Hiram said, laughing.  “He downloaded them, too?  Haha!  Excellent!”

Then with sudden abruptness, Hiram yanked up on the leash – forcing Lilah up onto her feet.  Connecting her wrist cuffs to each other, he pushed her over to a wall – then putting her connected wrist cuffs up onto what seemed like another hook.  The hook was high enough up on the wall that she couldn’t remain on her feet, but instead had to balance herself on her toes as she went face-first up against the wall.

“I bet he saves them all,” Hiram said, tapping the insides of Lilah’s thighs with the riding crop – encouraging her to spread her legs apart.  “They’ll be the only visual representations he’ll ever have of her again.”

It was difficult enough to stay balance on her toes, but now being forced to keep her legs spread apart, Charlie horses would be likely before long.  She had no idea why he had just restrained her to a wall.

“How is she doing?  Well … she’s only just begun her reprogramming.  But she’ll soon wise up,” Hiram said – reaching into the back of her diaper, grabbing the back waistband and yanking the diaper off her body.  “Oh my.  This is gonna take some work, though.”

What he was referencing was the sight of her soiled bottom, a realization that made Lilah shrink up her shoulders and lean her forehead against the wall.  And there were two undeniable reason for this regretful reaction from her.

Firstly, she was now fairly certain that Hiram was talking about her to whomever was on the other end of that phone call.  Secondly, she was also fairly certain that he was taking pictures of her – then wondering who he was sending these pictures to … as he had referenced having done already to someone who downloaded them.

The current pictures of her, the ones that showed a mess on her backside, were anything but flattering.  Thankfully, her face wasn’t in these pictures.  But that didn’t mean her face hadn’t been in other ones.

And for as horrific as this whole situation had already been for Lilah, it was about to get a lot more demeaning for her.

With no warning, she felt the sting of icy cold water as it contacted the middle of her back, saturating the shredded silk camisole that was still around her shoulders.  This chilly water came from a simple garden hose and it ached in a different manner, one that wouldn’t quit.

The stream of water then traveled upward to the back of her head, drenching her hair and rolling down the front of her body as she remained face-first against the wall. 

“So you don’t think he’ll back off now?” Hiram asked, continuing his phone conversation.  “Yeah.  He’s stubborn, isn’t he?  Just like her.”

Wait a minute.  Was Hiram still talking about her?  And if so, then the guy he was talking about had to Sam!  Had he been sending pictures of Lilah to Sam, pictures showing her tied up and beaten and all?

But before she could think about it anymore, the stream of ice-cold water went straight down her spine and contacted her mess-covered bottom – the water rinsing the disgusting filth off her but also traveling forward a bit and connecting with her undercarriage.  She froze up, clenching all the muscles in her body in defense against the chilly cold water.  Hiram washed the filth down and off both her legs before  grabbing her and spinning her around to face him.

Now her forearms were crossed above her head, her wrist restraints still connected and holding her up on that hook on the wall.  That position was tremendously painful but not nearly as painful as that stream of icy cold water contacting her forehead.  It hurt so much she tossed her head to the left and right to avoid the stream, screaming into her ball gag.  Hiram simply washed the sides of her face when she did this.  Then the stream of icy cold water went to her sternum, down over her chest and her stomach and finally down between her legs.

Painful now became excruciating.  And thought she was blindfolded, she wept tears – though they weren’t seen by him.  She did her best to stay rigid and put up a bit of esteem-building defense to the pain.  But it was too much and she was forced to protect herself by pulling her legs together and drawing her knees up.

When she did this, her arms became stretched to another point of excruciation – spinning her back around to face the wall again as she whimpered into her ball gag … then putting her toes back on the ground.  Thankfully, her cold shower by garden hose was over.

“Okay.  I’ll send him another email and get him to go to Central Park tomorrow night,” Hiram said, walking up to Lilah and taking her connected wrist cuffs off the hook on the wall – the inconsolable girl collapsing to the ground and weeping.  “Keep an eye on him and follow his movements the rest of today and tomorrow before the boys meet him at the park tomorrow night.  I need to know what he’s up to.”

He reached down and took hold of the tattered silk camisole on her back, ripping it off her frame and then grabbing her hair.  Quickly, she stood to her feet – all the spirit of fight having been drained out of her.

“When he gets to the park,” Hiram said as he attached her connected wrist cuffs to the front of her dog collar.  “Make sure the boys give him a taste of what death is all about.”

Pulling the leash, he began to walk briskly down the hallway again, Lilah following after him as best she could – dripping wet, trembling, chilled to the bone and very scared at this point.

Back into that small cold room she was taken, the acoustics of the room giving its identity away.  In one swift motion, he pushed her down onto that small table in the room – her breasts smashed against the table top as he detached her wrist cuffs from her dog collar and from each other as well … then stretching her arms out to different corners of the table and attaching her wrist cuffs to those corners.

“Lilah, it’s time to get you on track.  You’ve had enough time to become acquainted with your unpleasant surroundings, but I don’t think you’ve fully grasped the lesson you needed to learn by being kept down here,” Hiram explained.  “I’m going to fix that mistake right now.”

Lilah was now trembling from head to toe, not knowing what to expect.  This guy was capable of anything.  He had just told someone to get a bunch of guys to give a taste of death to a person.  And though she hadn’t been violated in the worst way imaginable yet, there was no intelligible reason to rule out that possibility – if not eventuality.

“Spread your feet,” Hiram said, seeing her closed-leg stance.

But when she didn’t listen, he started smacking the inside of her thighs with the riding crop.  Lilah fidgeted and bounced on her feet a little, trying to displace the pain … to no avail.  So, she parted her stance slightly.  But it wasn’t enough for his liking.

“Further apart.  I wanna see your legs spread eagle,” Hiram said, his deep voice resonating throughout her mind.

But she didn’t move her feet any further apart.

“Lilah, you are a bad girl,” Hiram said as he swung the riding crop swiftly through the air, connecting firmly with her right thigh.

The stinging pain was so intense that her right leg trembled and then moved outward, seemingly without direction from her mind.  The side of her right thigh felt like it was on fire, the only warm point on her entire body.  Then he swung that riding crop swiftly through the air again, this time connecting in the same harsh manner with her left thigh.

Then he delivered blow after blow to her inner thighs until she gave in and made a spread-eagle stance.  Finally, he delivered a vicious stinging strike up between her legs, contacting her labium and turning Lilah to blubbering mush – practically unable to stay on her feet at all.

“Maybe you would understand things more clearly if I showed you exactly what a bad girl gets,” Hiram said with his usual deep tone but now with an added bitterness to its quality.

His tone was, in a word … frightening.  For the first time since awakening in that very room, however long ago that was by now, she could see what was about to happen … figuratively speaking.  She was still blindfolded.  But she could hear his footsteps as he slowly walked around the table, the full-chested inhalations of air as he drew them in through his nostrils – a clear indication he was keeping his mouth closed as he prepared for what he was about to do, the cracking of his knuckles as he loosened his fingers and a pace about his actions being set.

Stopping behind her, he placed his right hand on her bottom – cupping the underside of her cheeks and rubbing them.  It was without question to her that a spanking was about to happen, but there was no conceivable way she could have known its severity or length.

Hiram took his hand away from her bottom, swung his arm up high and then back down – connecting his palm flat against the underside of her bottom cheeks.  There was the initial jolt and initial sting, more of a shock than of pain.  But then he rubbed the exact areas he had just struck, as if to even out the ache.  Lilah hardly understood that.

A second strike from his hand landed across the center of her bottom cheeks, Hiram again rubbing the ache out evenly.  Then he smacked the very top sides of her cheeks, just nipping them with his fingertips.  And that was when her bottom felt its first bit of warming.

The sound of a loud crack preceded the next blow from his hand, that strike only contacting her left bottom cheek – slapping upward and producing the first bit of steady whimpering from her.  Oh, she fidgeted all over the place and when his next strike contacted her right bottom cheek, slapping downward, her whimpering turned to mumbled sobs.  The ball gag in her mouth continued to keep her verbal objections unheard.  But it had been in her mouth for so long, she hardly noticed it anymore – having accepted it.

His hand took strike after strike after strike to her backside, even working its way down to the tops of her hamstrings.  But none of the strikes were very hard, Hiram only intending to further warm her surfaces with them.  He was saturating her nerve endings, so to speak.

And then he stopped altogether, backing away and not touching her at all.  A few seconds turned into a few minutes.  She could sense he was still in the room, but what was he doing?  What was he waiting for?

Trying to pull free of her wrist restraints, she managed to get her right foot up onto the edge of table.  Then, out of nowhere, came a strike to the back of right hamstring, not from his hand – but rather – from his leather belt.  The strike was so powerful that it felt like he had ripped straight through all the muscle of her right leg.  Grabbing her right ankle and yanking it off the table top, he then began cracking the leather belt against his hand.  Struggling to stand on her right leg without the pain becoming too much to endure, Lilah wept heavily – drooling pouring out from all around her ball gag as she cried in agony.  

But then he did nothing again and waited patiently.  It was beginning to drive Lilah crazy.  She knew he was holding a leather belt.  She had felt this belt already.  Yet, he did nothing now.  He didn’t even pace around the room or speak.  She couldn’t even hear him breathing.  This waiting thing was some cruel game, like Chinese water torture or something … only this seemed worse.

What the Hell was he waiting for?  If he had to get his rocks off by spanking and beating her, then why didn’t he just do it?  At least then it would come to an end and she could start recovering.

Wait a minute!  That was it!  He was wearing her down mentally, waiting until she lost her mind.  Well, if he was going to play games, then so would she.  Beginning to pull on her wrist restraints, she shook the table – trying to make it seem like she had lost her mind or her cool or her patience or … whatever way he would like to see it.  This would certainly get things rolling.  But it didn’t. 

And before long, Lilah was truly beginning to lose her patience.  Instead of thrashing around, she did her best to maintain self-control – opting to still find a way to defeat him.  Her determination could only last for so long, however.  She was at a disadvantage in every way. 

She began to hyperventilate, trying to get him to take the ball gag out of her mouth – really making it seem like she couldn’t breathe.  But he wasn’t convinced.  And she wasn’t being a very good actor about it.

Then she tried to relieve herself, grunting and trying to push out anything that might have been in her bowels.  But all she did was trickle the tiniest bit of pee.  He had already cleaned her out with the enema.  So she couldn’t even gross him out with the sight and stench of a mess.

Angered by her lack of options, she let out a mumbled growl as she reached exhaustion in more ways than physical.  And then, she collapsed onto the table top – finally giving up and just simply crying.

That was the moment Hiram was waiting for.  Stepping forward, he took a full swing with his belt and connected it with the underside of her bottom.  The swing had such force behind it that it lifted her off her feet for a moment.  The pain wasn’t something she could describe.  Yes, it hurt.  But all her surfaces, and even a bit inward into the meat, had been affected.  And what she felt was something otherwise.

It was, in fact, a sensation that refilled her with new energy.  It was like he knew exactly where to strike her to hit not only the nerve endings nearest her bottom but also the entire network of nerve endings that traveled up between her legs.  In short, the deliveries from his belt began to excite her and soon …… arouse her.

And suddenly, every spanking from the belt jolted her body – making her moan into the ball gag, not cry.  The sensations were growing larger and larger.  And she felt her labium begin to flood with wetness she couldn’t ignore and didn’t want to ignore.  Without even realizing it, she started rocking her hips, lining up her movements so as to be able to grind her mound into the edge of that table at the exact moment that his belt landed across her bottom again.

Now she found herself flustered … for a completely different reason than what she expected.  And it confused her.  Yes, some people enjoyed being spanked.  But she shouldn’t be, not in this circumstance.

The sensations moved in the direction of pleasure and Lilah’s body language changed, being lulled into that pleasure.  Suddenly, she was waiting to welcome the next strike of his belt – as opposed to waiting to endure it.  And though confusion filled her, she gave up trying to rationalize anything.  It just simply felt to good to fight against.

Of course, Hiram wasn’t going to be able to successfully teach her anything, not while she was happily lost in a euphoric state of mind.  And this wasn’t supposed to be a pleasure cruise for her, though he understood that that would be part of her journey.

Unfortunately for her, that part of her journey was over … for now.

Once again, Hiram very abruptly stopped spanking her – Lilah looking back over her shoulder in the direction he was … though she couldn’t see him for the blindfold. 

The pleasure diminished much more rapidly than it had built up.  The stinging ache on her skin and in her meat returned with a hideous, damnable vengeance.  And her forthcoming meltdown, unlike its predecessor, hardly took any time at all.  She was in the middle of something she was unexpectedly enjoying, suddenly to have it all taken away from her.  Pouting went straight into anger and then into rage.

She kicked back in his direction, only to have her left foot grabbed and the leather belt taken to her sole.  She lost track of the number of times he spanked the bottom of that foot, but if he hadn’t broken the skin open, it would have been a miracle because her left foot felt like it was dripping when he released it.

She returned to muffled crying and then to muffled screaming when he grabbed her right foot, already bruised from earlier, and repeated the process of spanking her sole.  There was no pleasure in what she was receiving and she was now at the climax of the lesson.

He released her right foot and she dropped to her knees, screaming into her ball gag – her arms stretched as far as across the table as the wrist restraints would allow them to go.  That was when he began attacking her hamstrings a bit more directly.

He wasn’t spanking her anymore.  Now, it was a beating.

She could feel the welts forming on the backs of her legs.  Unable to stand back up because of feet that were also in a beaten condition and also unable to get away because her wrists were cuffed to the top of the table, Lilah had no alternative but to kneel there and take it all.

And when he was done with the back of her legs, he then went to the small of her back.  Going rigid, Lilah screamed into her ball gag, then running out of energy again and remaining slumped over the edge of the table until Hiram himself had to stop because of exhaustion. For a minute or two, she listened to him breathing in deeply and exhaling just the same until he got his breath back.

Detaching her wrist cuffs from the table, he joined them together behind her back, Lilah immediately pulling her forearms away from contacting her lower lumbar as it was badly bruised and felt like she had just been punched in the kidneys.  Grabbing her by the hair and yanking her up off the table, he tossed her into a corner of the room and then tossed the table out of the room.

Lilah trembled on the ground, her body feeling like it was going into shock from all the messages of pain her nerve endings were sending to her brain in rapid-fire succession.  She didn’t know how long she laid there.  Nor did she know whether she passed out or not.  But after a short while of silence, she then heard the clanging of metal as two bowls were placed in front of her.

“I trust you now understand clearly what a bad girl gets,” Hiram said, unfastening the ball gag and taking it out of her mouth.  “No one is gonna hear you down here anyway.  But if I hear you scream or cry for help, even once, I’ll come back and teach you this lesson again.”

Lilah wept, but wept silently.

“And if I have to teach you this lesson again, I promise you I will not be so gentle next time,” Hiram said in an icy cold tone before he smashed her face into the one bowl.

In that bowl was wet cat food.  Lilah was so hungry she ate it without objection.  In the other bowl was water, thankfully just as ice-cold as the room itself.  She was still blindfolded and that was why she didn’t see the final blow coming. 

Hiram grabbed her right ankle, pulling her legs apart and taking the leather belt up between her legs for one last delivery that hurt worse than anything else he had done to her up to that point.  The pain was so excruciating she couldn’t even make a sound.

“Here endeth the lesson,” Hiram said, turning off the lights in that ice-cold room and shutting the door – locking it as he left.

Lilah lay there: bare naked, beaten to a pulp and wanting to die.

Other samples:
Read Diablo’s Selection
Read The Good Girl Lesson

A BabyGirl is abducted by an obsessed man and her Daddy goes on a manhunt to rescue her.

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3 responses to “The Bad Girl Lesson

  1. Pingback: The Good Girl Lesson |

  2. Pingback: Stolen |

  3. Pingback: Diablo’s Selection |

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