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A Twist of Whips — Chapter 11: Part 2 — Thunder’s Bison Bunnies

1st 50 lashes by leather belt.

2nd 25 Swats wooden paddle. 3rd 25 lashes WET leather belt. 4th: 10 lashes with an electrical cord. There was a 5th yet to come.

A Collaborative effort by Medium.com/@evelyngaede and Medium.com/@toddhammerrick

**All characters are figments of imagination from the authors and not meant to resemble any actual business or place, nor any person, whether living or dead.***

Chapter 11 Part 2:

Liz was given time to recover. Violet had been brutal, only calmed enough to temper the strength of her swats on the third and fourth implements that were handed to her.

Once Dima determined Liz’s stamina and vitality were strong enough, he had Violet locked to the pillory, handed Liz the leather belt and instructed her to give Violet 50 lashes.

“No parameters on the strength of the lashes?” “No. You have the same freedom that Violet was allowed.”

Liz resented Violet. She’d caused a problem on the river float, had tried to start a fight at a place of possible danger, where any of Liz’s group had fallen off the inner tube, survival would not have been a given.

The most natural impulse was to give Violet exactly what she herself had just endured. But then, as Liz lifted her arm with the first strike, her grandmother’s voice, clear as a phone call…

‘Revenge always comes back to bite the one who inflicts it. Just like a boomerang, it comes right back… rules of the universe do the same… substitute mercy, kindness, empathy… any of those rather than pain on another soul.’

At the last second Liz pulled the power of her arm to hit Violet with enough force to make the leather belt POP! as it landed, but short of inflicting real agonizing pain.

Where Liz had let out blood curdling screams, Violet whimpered, groaned, tried to move her body out from the path of the leather belt. The paddle was to be used on ass and thighs only. Six swats on each cheek of the ass, then each thigh… finally to choose one area where the bruises seemed darker than the rest for the 25th swat with the wooden paddle.

The wet leather belt when it had struck Liz felt like a Mac truck meant for heavy construction, or in her case, the greatest torture, but Liz again held back the full power of her arm.

The next weapon was 10 swats with the electrical cord. Liz put in just enough power to let Violet know how much it could hurt, which was way less than what had been done to her.

After the fourth set of whip lashes, Liz was returned to the middle of the dungeon floor and chained just as she had been before, with her arms pulled high above her head and her ankles locked tight to the cement floor.

Dima opened another bottle of champagne, patiently waited for his client, Mr. Franklin Tamper to finish his 3rd blow job from Nicole.

When that was done, Nicole was let to a sawhorse, forced to straddle it so each wrist and ankle were locked tight to each leg of the sawhorse.

The men enjoyed their champagne and the view of three girls bound with ropes and chains, each one in a different position and torture device.

“So what do you think of my little “Chamber of Horror, Franklin?” “I approve. Every bit as fun as Moscow Russia, equipped with my most favored toys.”

“And Nicol?” The gentleman guest simply smiled.

It was more than an hour later when the men stood, walked over to the women. “Would you like to tell them? Or prefer to have me do it?”

“You make a good emcee, Dima. It wouldn’t be right to try and wrest that title away from you.”

Dima smiled. *Franklin Tamper, *American Diplomat to Russia kept that same characterization…? Cool persona…? Mild manner…? Even form… about that man, every moment of his waking life, whether it was dealing with his barren wife, his friends, business associates, or at times like this, seeking pleasure outside his marriage… the women he rented.

“Ladies. There is some of this fantasy we didn’t tell you. Franklin is a statistics man. Ratios, charts, formulas… numbers… scores… doesn’t matter. It always comes down to percentages.

“Today, he mentioned that almost 95% of encounters he has been privy to…” Dima paused here to create tension. The air had already been tense, but he’d swear it just went up another 15 percent; all three captured slaves nervous of what she would hear…

“…have used the greatest muscle they could muster on the one they were assigned to whip… five different implements; and THAT! is the missing clue ladies!”

Dima glanced toward several of the video cameras currently taping all of this.

“Violet, how many whips did you use on Liz?” “Four.” “And yet, you had specifically been told there would be five. Correct?”

Violet seemed to jump, nerves and muscle screaming… what mood exactly? Realization? Guilty conscience? Regret? Fear of what might come?

For that was the final announcement of Dima’s speech… the reason why she was locked down on the pillory after she had suffered through her own 114 lashes.

“You had been told there were five whips. Is that not correct, Violet?”

“No! I used three whips. One was a paddle. I assumed because SHE was in such great pain you no longer wished to push a fifth weapon.”

“That is a good argument, Violet, but incorrect.” Dima moved to Liz. “You endured a vicious beating.”

Dima held up 1 finger and moments later a video began to play, clearly visible from where all three were tied down…

Nicole, through the use of mirrors since her position on the sawhorse kept her glance on Dima’s thighs and Violet’s bare ass… in seconds she too was watching Violet’s arm swing 50 lashes with more strength than any sane person would have used.

The screams that tore through the dungeon were piercing, constant, and tortured. Franklin enjoyed the long minutes it took to play through all fifty lashes of Liz’s first beating.

Dima then held up two fingers and video played the first fifty lashes Liz delivered to Violet.

Violet screamed, but not the spine-ripping harsh screeches that Liz’s had been. Violet’s quickly devolved to tears, then whimpers, where Liz’s had been so brutal, tears had refused to come.

Liz had been trapped in a body too abused for that simple release. Every thought and muscle had labored to protect the mind, that one thing she still had ability to guard and protect.

Violet cringed as the first video played, embarrassed at the ugly facial expression her features portrayed throughout the first 50 swats. It revealed a vindictiveness she’d often been accused of but had never understood — or believed.

She fully understood now and believed it. In one moment, years of bible lessons ran through blocks of stunted memory like a harried shoppers in a grocery store.

Then the second video… crystal clear… Liz’s mental fight… angel vs devil… had almost duplicated what was done to her… pulled back at the very last second to deliver what would later be described as a “healthy” whipping, the wooden paddle swats called a “reality” spanking.

“If both girls had done as Violet so eagerly did,” Dima had waited so long to sum it up, all three girls jumped, nervous now of what the next hours meant for them.

After pausing a full fifteen seconds to make everyone focus again on him, Dima slowly, carefully, pronounced each syllable of what would have happened had Liz not tempered the power of the lashes she delivered.

“All three would have suffered five swats from the bamboo rod, administered by our guest, Franklin Tamper.” Dima paused to let that sink in, slowly moved his arm to include two of the three with what came next:

“If both girls had done as Liz, showed compassion, administered swats and lashes meant to arouse and not to punish? The only one to receive the final five lashes, to be delivered with this bamboo rod…”

Dima paused as Syl came from the shadows, demonstrating with a flick of his wrist the power behind a swat from this wicked tool.

“Those five swats now, if both girls had shown compassion, would have been delivered on Nicole.”

Dima paused, smiled to a nod of agreement from his client, Franklin.

“Don’t try to make sense of that on a rational level, girls… Nicole. There isn’t one. You would have only been subjected to those five strikes bamboo because Mr. Tamper pays to administer them to someone!

“This is only one of a handful of times he has witnessed one of the two girls pull back the power of her arm to spare her abuser. So…”

Dima moved two steps closer to Violet, turned to face the cameras.

“The reality of the situation we have here… Violet will not be the ONLY one to feel the sting of the bamboo rod, but she will receive the highest number of lashes.

“Five lashes to her right ass cheek, then a period of rest before receiving five lashes to her left thigh.

“Now, normally, we would stop it right there. But Violet’s demeanor was so hideous… so… inherently evil… the Reverend Franklin Tamper, Ambassador to Russia… has deemed it imperative to administer five strikes to the left ass cheek and right thigh as well.

“Violet will then remain fastened to the pillory until Ambassador Tamper takes his leave from Moscow Mills. Unfortunately for you, Violet, he left the date of departure open. He intends to stay until business or family calls him away. That could be a few days.

“If I were you, dear, I’d pray for an imminent international crisis. Otherwise… well… how harsh is the pillory? Unbearable on the back? The neck?”

“FUCK YOU!” Violet sobbed, but the epithet rang clear, as did what followed. “AND FUCK FRANKLIN TAMPER!”

“Oh! Such temper! That outburst needs addressed as well. When you are finally brought down from the pillory, the bottom of each foot shall receive five strikes.”

Dima was frowning.

“You won’t walk for a solid week… maybe a month. It will be interesting to see how long he does find my home a relaxing place to be… and… the slave Violet… enjoyable.”

Dima then turned to Liz. She was visibly trembling.

“Do not fear, my lovely pet, Liz.” Dima dried the freshest tears with a clean tissue.

“Your restraint to not seek revenge has bought a reprieve from the five bamboo strikes meant to be your fate, with an added gift of choice. You may remain here and watch Violet undergo her extended punishment or return to your cell upstairs.”

“If it does not upset you, Master Dima… or your guest… Master Franklin… I’d rather not watch Violet suffer that punishment. My soul cannot take that harsh exhibit. Not today.”

“Very well.” Dima signaled Pavel who immediately stepped from the shadows to release Violet from the heavy chains that had kept her the center of attention.

Everyone present watched as lock after lock, chain after chain was released; then watched a slow, limping exit from the dungeon, a leash locked onto her collar even as Pavel allowed her to lean on him for the walk up to the loft…

A somewhat ambiguous walk out of the dungeon… humiliated… a body in pain… leashed like a circus animal… proclaiming to her and to all others present here in this dungeon or who would watch the video in days yet to come…

“Enslaved! Dima’s pet sex toy! Torture pet!”

Steps that carried her out of the dungeon to Dima’s loft, then beyond that, down a long corridor to her private cell.

“Nicole…” Dima’s voice cut through the silent dungeon like a shot of dynamite. He now moved to the third girl, the one who had spent that afternoon on her knees, between the visitor’s legs, sucking his hard tool.

“Nicole. How could you count this vicious slut standing directly across from you, as a friend? Someone so thoughtlessly cruel?”

“We’ve been friends since high school.” “Played games against other girls? Stole boyfriends? Spread gossip? Stories you often knew could not be true?”

When Nicole failed to reply Dima knew he’d pegged them both.

“You, Nicole will endure five strikes of the bamboo rod, One to each butt cheek and thigh. The fifth to be on your stomach. At the end of your five swats, you will be led to your cell.”

“Franklin, give me a minute to get to the loft and call up a zoom. Time, I would imagine, that you will need to get yourself ready.”

Thunder came on the zoom.

“Saw everything! Crystal clear. Proud of my Liz. Glad Violet’s on her way to Russia soon.”

“I may decide to buy Nicole as well. I’ll enjoy playing them against each other.”

“Did you end up with film that will sell?”

“I did… so Pavel and Syl both believe. They were monitoring the cameras… You have a signed contract from Zanti?”

“I do. We’ve both signed and dated it in front of witnesses. She has accepted offer four… sending email to you now…”

A Collaborative effort by Medium.com/@evelyngaede and Medium.com/@toddhammerrick

Copyright ©2025 by Evelyn Gaede and todd hammerrick. All Rights Reserved

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