Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!Copyright 1985-2020 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
(***, M/F, Serious, non-consensual whipping)
Hijackers deal with an unruly hostage. (Approximately 1,310 words. Originally published 1985-10.)
It happened before we took off. Before we even left the runway. There were five of them, all armed with machine guns. They forced all of the adults off the airplane, and kept the children, myself included, and one beautiful girl named Heather Locklear, of the TV series Dynasty. Both pilots were also kept.
Two of the men forced the pilots to take off, another herded all the children to the back of the plane. Heather and I remained in the first class section with the two others.
Once we were in the air, the two kidnappers began their tortures. Heather was dressed in an absolutely ravishing outfit: a light sweater on top with gorgeous white pants on the bottom. Speaking of bottom, the bottom of the sweater came down just below Heather's bottom, and tucked in, very appropriately.
The sweater came off first. I figured Heather would be scared, and she was, but she was also angry. She wouldn't let the men take off the sweater, but took it off herself. Then one of the men tried to undo her bra. She turned suddenly and slapped his face so hard he fell down.
In an instant he was up and his hand was coming down, but was stopped at the last second by his partner. "Let's do it my way," his partner grinned. Then his partner went into action.
He pulled Heather over to him and bent her over his lap. She struggled and began to kick, but she was in an awkward position and he was physically stronger. The other man moved and grabbed Heather's legs and held them still.
Then the man holding her patted her bottom very gently, two or three times. Heather reacted violently, thrashing around. So the man grasped her long, golden hair in his left hand and pulled in tight towards the small of her back, forcing her head back and her chest out, leaving her arms weak.
In this position, the man began to pat Heather's bottom again, ever so gently. Then he rested his hand on it, cupping his palm so it matched the exact curve of her rear. Then he began to move the hand left and right and then in a circular motion, all over her bottom. Heather tried to struggle, but the hair was tight and she weakened too fast to struggle for long. She lay panting, helpless, though by the look on her face, she had not given up at all.
Then the hijacker carefully felt around the lip of her pants. His hand moved around to her front, where he felt around for the clasp to undo the opening to her pants. Finding it, he unhooked it, and carefully unzipped them.
His hand wandered inside for a bit, then exited and returned topside. Then he carefully and meticulously began to pull down her pants, being cautious not to pull down her underwear at the same time.
Finally, when her bottom was fully exposed, he had his partner pull the pants completely off and discard them in a corner. Only her underwear was left now, and he took his time. He patted her bottom again, felt around carefully, and suddenly smacked her bottom soundly with the fingers of his hand. It came so suddenly and unexpectedly that Heather jumped and cried out at the tiny sting. The man smiled.
The underwear came off next, except this time the man pulled them slowly off, clear down to her ankles, before he let the other man pull them off. Then his hand slowly traveled up her long sleek legs,. feeling their smoothness. He finally reached her bottom, and he quietly patted it.
Suddenly, without warning, his light pat was a lightning slap, and he was again well rewarded with a squeal and jump from Heather, who already was becoming a bundle of nerves, waiting and wondering when the real stuff would begin.
The slapping followed. Again and again, harder and harder, on her bare bottom. Then the man took off his belt, slowly. He folded it over. And then he spoke. "Now honey, you have to learn not to hit either one of us. We're your friends. But we're also your boss, and you've got to do what we say."
Then he began to whip Heather's bottom with the belt, harder and harder, faster and faster. Then the man stood Heather up, her bottom very red and tender, and began to spank her bottom with his hand as hard as he could. He hit her so hard she was bounced forward, and her bottom, still tingling from the belt, began a steady throb along with the tingling.
Then the other man went into the kitchen and found a flat cutting board, which made a perfect paddle. He took his turn. They made Heather kneel so she couldn't tighten the muscles in her bottom, and began to paddle her soundly.
At first her' face was tense with resistance, then tense with pain. Finally she broke down and began to cry. This pleased the two men, though they did stop for a minute to "comfort" her. A moment later they were at it again, harder than ever this time, paddling her bottom as hard as they could. Finally they stopped.
Heather's butt was so red you'd have thought it could glow in the dark. And then the men began to feel her bottom and smack her' ass with their hands. And, of course, it was extremely painful, considering the condition her' rear end was in.
Then they took off her bra. They made her jog, jig, and do exercises for them, and even paddled her some more so they could watch her breasts jiggle from the vibrations.
It was then I managed to untie my hands. When one of the men went to the restroom, I put my hand over the other's mouth and slammed his head into a chair. He fell down, unconscious. I used the gun butt on the next one, as he came out of the bathroom.
I did the same for the one in the back, and for the two in the front, whom I called out one by one on the pretext of showing them what their partners had done to "the girl." After it was all over I was heading for the pilots to tell them it was over when Heather motioned to me.
She was still naked, but physically okay. She suddenly kissed me. I felt her lips press against mine and the tip of my tongue touch the edge of her perfectly white teeth. Her bare breasts were touching my chest and I could feel the nipples pressing hard into me. And then my hand dropped to her back and slid down to her bottom, which I had been aching to touch all night.
She jerked her head up and drew in a breath sharply at the pain. Her butt was extremely sensitive. I feared I had made a horrible mistake, but she smiled apologetically, and then hugged me and began to cry.
She then told me that her greatest fear in all her life was of being raped, and I had saved her. I pointed out that I had saved myself too, since the men might had killed me, but she was too excited to listen. Also, the men had stimulated her sexually, and she was randy.
We kissed again and again, and my hands passed all over her body. After a few moments we stopped, knowing that it wasn't the time or the place, or the right people. She kissed me again, a long, lingering kiss, and I passed my hand one last time, tenderly over her bottom, and then she went and got dressed and I went and talked to the Captain. And that was that.