Note to reader.

This is the final part of my account. Please continue here if you have read part 1 and wish to avoid the more extreme elements described in part 2.

Thank you for reading

Luv Rachel XXX

I woke early the following day, waiting until I heard Tynan clattering about before surfacing. I knew that I was expected to furnish, sexually, fourteen guys — two couldn’t make it — and that some form of corporal punishment was also in the offering.

To avoid Tynan trouble sorting breakfast, we headed to Subway, where we ordered sandwiches and coffee. As we sat eating and chatting prior to returning to the run-down building, one of Tynan’s work colleagues walked in.

‘Hello, Tynan,’ he said, ‘This the new bit on the side? Very nice.’

‘No,’ Tynan answered, just a friend.

‘A blooming sexy looking one if you ask me.’

‘I didn’t ask you,’ Tynan replied with a smile.

‘Only stating my opinion. Very nice,’ He turned to me, ‘If you’re not his piece, what are you doing later today?’

‘I’m sorry,’ I smiled politely, but I’m going to be fairly busy all day with one thing and another.’

‘Busy enough to not want to spend the day with me?’

‘Sorry, yes. Tynan has some knobs that he requires my help with.’

Tynan nearly choked on his sausage, egg and cheese sub as he heard my explanation.

‘Umm. Sounds rather interesting,’ his friend responded, ‘I have a knob that needs attention too.’

‘Is it a foot long or six incher?’ I questioned naughtily. The man’s eyes nearly popped out of his head at my forthrightness.

‘Somewhere in between,’ he garbled in response.

‘Thick or thin? I continued.

The man sat down heavily next to me. ‘Oh boy, I’m not used to this type of conversation so early in the morning.’

‘This,’ Tynan said, finally introducing his colleague, ‘Is Dave. He’s a fitter.’

‘Really,’ I replied, my mischievous nature getting the better of me. ‘Do you have a fitter thick one or a fitter thin one?’

Dave nearly crumpled on the table.

‘Stop it,’ he hissed, ‘Do you speak to all men like this?’

‘Only those who ask me out,’ I responded with a smile. ‘Sorry, but you did sort of thrust yourself in my direction.’

Tynan was trying to suppress himself as he looked in my direction while Dave sat with his head in his hands.

‘Shall I ask him?’ I enquired.

‘Up to you,’ Tynan replied.

‘What are you planning on doing today, Dave? I questioned.

‘Painting,’ he replied flatly as he raised his head.

‘How’d you fancy painting the town?’ I asked, ‘With us?’

‘How? In what way?

I nodded at Tynan, ‘You explain.’

It took less than a minute for Dave to take place number fifteen and agree for me to travel with him to the venue, his painting suddenly forgotten for the day.

‘Well, you’re in,’ I teased as we started off together following Tynan, ‘Or you will be soon.’

‘Are you real, or am I dreaming,’ he asked with a glazed expression. ‘I mean, are you really going to strip naked and allow fourteen Sex-crazed guys fuck you.’

‘I guess so,’ I smiled, ‘Except the number is now fifteen. Which hole do you want to try first?’

‘I Love Pussy, but most women shave theirs these days. I Love a good full natural hairy Pussy.’

‘Well, you really are in luck. I’m one hundred per cent natural, and I’ll let you be first to try it out and report on your findings.’

When we had arrived and parked, we were greeted by Kevin, Brett and Tom, who Dave already knew through work. Also waiting were another eleven young men who had enjoyed my presence the previous day.

Eager hands made short work of removing my clothing, adding the odd poke, squeeze or pinch on some part of my anatomy just for good measure. The mattress had been made much more like a proper bed with sheets and a duvet. As I lay on it, I explained that Dave had volunteered to go first and report to the rest on whether my body was any good.

I saw Dave wince; however, he did not seem at all concerned at being watched by the others as he undressed. Dave was around thirty and a good six feet tall with jet black hair, good looks and an athletic physique. His demeanour was one reason I played up to him at breakfast. He looked Hot!

I hid under the duvet while Dave removed his clothing to reveal a thick, long, rock hard cock desperate to find some satisfaction. As he approached, I threw the duvet off, raised my knees and opened my legs to allow him the access I knew he craved.

‘Here I am, boys,’ I offered, ‘Legs spread, Pussy damp, mouth ready and arse waiting. I’m yours for the day, so don’t hold back.’

I had been wet all morning in anticipation. The view of Dave fit and ready, plus the younger element stripping to reveal similar solid erections, only increased my vaginal dampness.

Dave almost leapt onto me as his thick hard cock pushed deep into my open Pussy, and he began to thrust silently and with his eyes closed as if he was being pleasured by every movement of his dick in my dripping cunt. I alternately contracted and expanded myself to give him the maximum return that I could on his efforts. A loud groan told everyone that my Pussy had become the receptacle for his cum as he held himself above me, his body quaking in response.

‘Good?’ I asked, smiling at him.

‘Fuckin great,’ He responded, lowering himself and kissing me passionately.

‘Guys,’ he announced, ‘She’s a sexy bitch, Hot, hairy and very fuckable.’

No one required any further encouragement as I was positioned on my hands and knees to allow access to all three ready and willing holes. I sucked and fucked for the next two hours as the chilly room became Hot, steamy and smelly, filled as it was with male testosterone releasing in bucket loads into my naked and sticky body.

Fulfilling the needs of fifteen Sex hungry young men meant there was no rest for me as cocks were recharged and ready for further action while I was still serving other entrants. Three hours later, with my bum stretched, my Pussy sore, and my mouth dripping copious amounts of cum, everyone seemed to require, just like me, a wee break.

I slipped under the damp duvet, sweating, breathing heavily and looking at the guys as they stood over me, smiling broadly.

‘Was that worth it?’ I enquired.

‘Fucking fantastic.’ One replied, obviously speaking for the rest.

‘Okay for an old hag? I questioned further.

‘More than okay. You’re a Hot, sexy, steamy, and sultry woman!’

I acquiesced to that compliment, not wishing to sound too conceited in pushing for more.

After a quick lunch, kindly procured by Tynan, I knew that the lads were eager to perform some sort of bondage with me. I was provided with a long victorian looking dress and a pair of knickers and told to put them on.

I was to be tried on the grounds of being a shameless whore. Not I had to confess secretly and unreasonable accusation. If found guilty, I would be whipped and flogged.

Kevin, Brett and Tom sat at a makeshift table that was to become the judge’s bench. I was marched before them with my hands bound by rope in front of me.

‘Prisoners name?’ Kevin barked as if playing the role of chief judge was something he did daily.

‘Rachel McClean,’ one of my guards answered.

‘Charge?’

‘Whoredom.’

‘How do you plead?’

‘Not guilty,’ I announced, speaking for the first time.

‘Do we have any witnesses?’ Keven enquired.

A young man stood up, ‘I’d like you to see this, your honour,’ he started handing over a mobile phone.

Kevin took it, looked at the screen and then passed it to the others before looking at me. ‘That’s pretty compelling. It’s an account you have posted on the internet called Cash for Cunt Confessions! It says it all. Any other evidence?

Another young man approached the bench. ‘I think you need to see this,’ he announced as he too passed across his mobile device.

‘Um,,’ Keving pondered, gazing at the screen and then scrolling down a page. ‘Another account allegedly written by you called, Sold for Sex, Stripping for Strange. What strange thing, were you stripping for woman?

‘It should read strangers,’ I confessed. ‘There was no room in the title for the final S I explained.

‘So you did write it?’

‘Err. Yes,’ I stammered.

‘Is it true?’

‘You decide,’ I retorted.

‘Call me Sir, prisoner,’ Kevin shouted.

‘You decide, Sir.’

‘I have more evidence here,’ another interjected, standing to his feet and approaching the three judges.’

Kevin, Brett and Tom looked at the third phone passed to them. ‘Another confession here in black and white, ‘Kevin chortled, Public Sex for Paying Seniors — your not just a whore woman but a total whore.’

There was a quick conflab between the three, and then Kevin announced, ‘By your own written accounts, this court finds you guilty as charged. The sentence is ten lashes to your back, twenty flogging to your breasts and a further ten to your cunt. Sentence to be carried out immediately. No appeals allowed!’

Tynan took charge of quickly erecting a gallows style contraption consisting of two sturdy upright pieces of wood slotted into a flat bottomed post socket and a cross member bolted across the top between the two. Two eye hooks were screwed into the cross member. The whole thing was arranged, brought in and put up in five minutes.

‘Prepare the prisoner,’ Kevin ordered.

Two of the group approached me and, taking hold of the top of my dress, ripped it down the front. They then pulled it to my waist, exposing my back and breasts. My bound hands stopped it from falling further.

The material was lifted so my hands could be untied, lifted and bound to the eyelets on the wooden frame. Once in place, the dress dropped down my legs, and my knickers were also removed. My legs were spread, and a rope tied them to the two upright posts.

Tynan then stood with an imitation Bullwhip. I have never allowed a real Bullwhip to be used on me because they are far too dangerous. Tynan’s version was about seven feet long and woven together with many strands of leather forming a wide handle and single soft end. It created quite a crack when it struck but would never cut or inflict serious damage on me. I had agreed to this ‘torture’ on the condition that only Tynan used the whip due to his experience.

I braced myself as Tynan ensured everyone was far enough away to avoid collateral damage as he swung in my direction. Unusually I did not hear the swish of the leather thong as it flew through the air to meet my back. I only felt a sharp stabbing pain as it landed neatly across my shoulder blades, and the end snaked around, flicking the top of my right breast.

‘Owwwwww,’ I called as I swung on my rope restraints.

‘Call out the number, you filthy bitch,’ Brett commanded.

‘One!’ I shouted.

‘Swoosh,’ This time, I did hear the leather as it rushed toward my exposed back, striking me lower down and wrapping around my midriff.

‘Arrrrrrrrrrrgh,’ I responded before adding, ‘Two!’

The sudden appearance of stiff rods being released from stretched jeans showed me that, once again, my pain and humiliation were having a sizable effect on all watching.

The third stroke landed almost expertly in a diagonal from my right shoulder to my left hip, with the fourth doing the same in the other direction. I was sure that Tynan had been practising.

Number five landed perfectly across the middle of my back with the tip rounding my body and slapping hard into my right nipple.

‘Yahoooooooooo,’ I screamed as I again swung on the wooden frame, desperate to rub my aching breast.

Tynan changed position from my left-hand side to my right.

‘I’ll try doing this backhanded,’ he stated as he anchored his feet in readiness.

Tynan’s aim was not as good in his new location; however, his power was not limited as leather and skin met in one sharp crack resulting in another shriek from the bound victim.

The seventh attempt was intended to land across my backside, but Tynan’s aim was off, and the leather cut across the backs of my legs, completely circling my thighs like a coiled snake. As the pressure released, I could see red lines straddling the front of both my legs.

I forgot to call out ‘Seven’ with my legs being hit and was told that an extra punishment would result.

Number eight struck central to my back, swinging round to catch my left breast and nipple, much to everyone’s enjoyment except mine.

Tynan tried to copy the diagonal blows but failed; he still found enough power to make me scream and swing as the leather landed hard across my back. When the tenth and final swipe had landed with its characteristic crack, I purposely and theatrically collapsed, hanging by my restrains with my head down as I whimpered. I was hurting from the ten lashes, all feeling as though someone had scribed my back with a Hot iron.

As I hung somewhat breathless, I knew that many hard cocks were being worked feverishly at the sight of me bound, helpless and in pain.

The flogging of my breasts followed immediately after, with all the participants keen to have a go. I was made to stand upright and thrust my relatively insignificant breasts forward to receive the flogger. I had agreed that all fifteen could have one go and some lucky participants two to reach the required number of twenty.

Tynan stepped up first to demonstrate how the flogger could be used by flailing it through the air in front of me. Once he had exhausted the main ways of using it on me, he swung it directly across my tits when I was not expecting it, and I collapsed in shock like a deflated tyre.

One after another, the young men took up position before me, often flicking the flogger in practice shots before landing it across my breasts or midriff. This particular flogger was not too painful; however, the front of my body soon became sore as its leather thongs landed time and again across my reddening skin.

As each new operator stood ready to strike, I would be commanded, ‘Stant up slut,’ or ‘Attention whore,’ to ready myself for the next assault.

Finally, as I called out ‘twenty,’ I did have real tears in my eyes as I swung to the final lash taking pleasure in the grans of satisfaction as some of those looking on shot their loads into handkerchiefs and tissues.

The final ordeal I had to endure while bound to the wooden frame was my Pussy whipping. Tynan explained that it could be flogged either from behind or in front, depending on preference.

I stood supporting myself tightly on the ropes securing my wrists as Tynan readjusted my ankle restraints to ensure my legs were far enough apart.

‘One,’ I shouted out as the long leather thongs landed sharply between my legs and flicked up against my bum.

Those that ensured the ends passed right between my legs were bearable; however, some quickly realised that maximum discomfort could be gained by ensuring the ends hit with maximum effect right on my Pussy. Those caused a resulting scream of agony as they landed on my most sensitive area. Strange to relate it was these that caused my sudden violent trembling as, within seconds, my body responded to the pain with another full-blown Orgasm.

I stood breathing quickly and heavily; my hands clamped tightly to the ropes, and my legs taught so that every one of my muscles was on display as I closed my eyes and allowed everyone to see the female body in its full enjoyment of sexual pleasure.

”Fuck me,’ the one holding the flogger said, ‘What’s that?’

Tynan had seen it too. ‘Female ejaculation,’ he explained. ‘Woman can ejaculate too but not as often as us guys.’

This revelation caused untold surprise as all came closer to observe the sticky discharges running down my legs while I slowly floated back into the realms of reality from my clouds of ecstatic pleasure.

When the hullabaloo resulting from my sudden Orgasm had quietened down, I counted down the final three lashes of the flogger between my legs. Not one had chosen the option to strike forward from behind; all had wanted to see the results of their work shown on my contorted face.

As I was untied, Brett announced, ‘Our victim failed to call out the number when her back was being whipped. For that, she must be punished.’

Tynan once again appeared with a large bucket and placed it on the ground.

‘Whatever is in that?’ Dave inquired as he looked into the white bucket full to the brim of a black substance.

‘Treacle,’ Tynan announced.

‘What are you going to do with it?’ Dave asked in a surprised manner.

‘Stick her head in it.’

I was grabbed but decided I’d make a valiant effort to resist as I kicked, thrashed and fought against several guys trying to hold me and position me to get my head into the bucket. I was secretly quite pleased that despite only being eight and a half stone and a size eight dress, it took six o them to hold me and force me onto my knees.

The bucket was brought closer, and my head, gripped by my hair, was pushed right in so that I felt the treacle overflow and drop onto the back of one hand as it rested on the floor. After about thirty seconds, I was pulled out.

‘Take a deep breath slut,’ I was told.

I did as I was thrust back into the black sticky substance. As I held my breath, with my eyes firmly shut, I counted down the seconds. On the stroke of thirty-five, I was again hoiked out.

‘Look at her now. Filthy cow!’ I heard someone comment.

‘Hold your breath bitch,’ I was ordered again as my head went under the thick goo for the third time.

When I was pulled up, one of the young men commented, ‘Pity she is not wearing knickers; I’d Love to pour some of that into them.’

‘We can do better than that,’ I heard the Irish brogue of Tynan respond. ‘Look at this.’

I heard some movement as I sat on my knees, with my head still held tightly over the bucket as different ones came closer to take a look.

‘We shove that up her arse,’ Tynan explained, ‘Then push that, and the treacle is forced right into her shit passage.’ He paused before speaking to me. ‘Listen whore, this time when your head goes under you hold your arse cheeks open so we can push this where it belongs.’

As my head entered the bucket the fourth time, I reached around and parted my bum cheeks. As soon as I did so, Tynan pushed a nozzle deep into my anus, and I felt a cold, sticky substance deposited inside me.

When I was finally allowed to sit without fear of my head going under the treacle again, Tynan addressed everyone. ‘As our slut drives up north later today, she will take that little memento in her back passage, and I think some may remain there a couple of days. Now let’s clean her up.’

I braced myself for another cold dousing with the hose outside but was glad to discover that most of the guys had brought some Hot water in flasks. Tynan, who appeared to be like a magician, produced another bucket which was filled with warm water on several occasions allowing me to wash the bulk of the treacle out of my hair and off my face.

Once I was as clean as I was going to be, I was allowed to dress.

‘Well, lads,’ Tynan said, ‘Was Rachel worth it?’

Even I was surprised by the clapping, cheers and banging of objects in response.

‘When are you coming again, Rachel,’ someone asked.

‘Can we have another weekend like this with you?’ Another questioned.

‘We can travel to you if you want. You are sooooooooo sexy.’

‘And Hot,’ a further voice added.

An hour later, and with several boxes of chocolates adorning the back seat of my car, I started on my journey home. My trip would take me on the slower scenic route home, following the A82. With my bum still full of treacle that I could feel slowly oozing into my knickers, I drove along the west shore of the beautiful Loch Lomond. Eventually, I passed through the picturesque valley of Glen Coe, watched over by its famous three sisters mountains, before skirting the top of Loch Linnhe as I entered Fort Wiliam. I’d follow the south bank of Loch Lochy and finally the north side of the mysterious and legendary Loch Ness before heading into what I now call my home city. It was a slow, winding route, much of which I travelled in the dark and, therefore, not able to appreciate the majestic beauty that this trip always holds.