Spanking stories part 2

Eris assures me that the first part of the spanking story was a) readable and b) hot so I have gone back to writing (the lack of comments had me panicking!). So here is part two...... I hope you enjoy

Part two: The Hostel

Ellie awoke to a keening sound, like the noise a wounded puppy makes. As her eyes focused, she realised she was in a room with several other women; all young, all partially naked, all dirty, all scared.

A tall blonde girl with an American accent stood up behind her and walked past her to the whimpering girl, shaking her roughly by the shoulder. “Enough, Maria. Jesus, I need to sleep and I can't do that with your whining all the time”. The frightened girl cowered from the American who let go of her shoulder with a disgusted sigh. The American turned and noticed Ellie for the first time. “Hey, you're awake. You speak English?” she queried in the slow, patronising tone often used to speak to foreigners.

Ellie nodded, her throat too raw to speak. Her face felt crusted and sore, her eyes puffy and bleary from the crying. The American girl tossed her a water bottle which she clumsily caught, downing it thirstily. She noticed her hands were no longer bound and she had been covered by a blanket which she clutched tightly to herself.

“Thank god” the American girl cried, throwing herself down heavily on the bed next to her. “Someone who can understand me. I'm sick of talking to myself”. Ellie looked away, embarrassed, as the girl's shift rode up and exposed her totally. The girl smiled to herself as she noticed the movement, shifting her legs so Ellie had a clearer view of her groin. “well, aren't you cute” she laughed. “they're going to love you”.

“Where am I? Who are they? What's happening?” The questions that had been flooding through Ellie's mind peppered the room like a machine gun.

“slow down, sweetheart, one at a time! You're in the delightful land of Romania. The playground of the rich, the toy of the infamous and they my sweet are your new owners. Long live capitalism, down with communism”. She toasted Ellie ironically with the water bottle and drank before resuming. “What's happening is that the rich and influential of this country, tired of the simpering country girls beaten into dull obedience by their loving parents, want fresh, 'enthusiastic', and most importantly, undamaged meat. That's you honey, in case you missed it. We were brought here, innocent as the newborn lamb – well, you were anyway – to cater for the needs of those who can pay. You my dear, are a slave. Congratulations. “ Some of the arrogance slipped from her face as she spoke and she sank back against the wall. “Get used to it sweetie pie, because you're here to stay.”

The fear began to well up within Ellie again, fuelled by the whimpering and sobbing noises coming from the other girls. She huddled herself up tighter under the blanket, shifting her weight to get more comfortable and crying out softly as she rested on her welted behind.

“Sore?” the american girl asked sympathetically. “well, that I might be able to help. Our masters are nothing if not considerate”. The ironic tone had returned to her voice as she leaned under the bed and pulled out a plastic tub. “Roll over and I'll put the salve on, that will reduce the pain and prevent and scarring”. Reluctant to show her nakedness to this girl, Ellie rolled on to her front slowly, trying to cover as much of herself as possible with the blanket. She could feel the American girl's amusement as she deftly pulled the blanket away, exposing Ellie fully to the room.

“Ouch! They must have been in a foul mood last night” she muttered as she began applying the salve thoroughly to the welts. Ellie began to feel the throbbing subside as the cold cream was applied gently, the tension ebbing slightly as she began to relax under the girl's expert ministrations. She began to drift, the absence of pain almost experienced as pleasure. She jerked back to herself as she felt the beginnings of a warm sensation, and realised that the girl's hand had moved to between her thighs. She pulled away so fast that the pain in her backside blossomed again.

“I can make it feel much better if you let me” the girl murmured. Ellie shifted herself even further away, pulling the blanket over the face so the girl couldn't see her blush. “You gotta love the English” she heard the girl say, laughing to herself as she walked back across the room.

Time passed. Ellie drifted in and out of sleep listlessly. She didn't have the energy to try and explore her environment, to try and escape. Despair held her under the blanket, pain pinned her to the bed.

Suddenly the room was full of shouting, wailing, pleading. She heard the door open and sounds of heavy plates being laid down on the floor. Feeding time at the zoo, she thought bitterly, burying her face further into the stinking mattress.

The cold air rushed in as the blanket was yanked off her, exposing her naked backside to the room. Hands pinned her down and she could hear the rough, accented tone of her captor in conversation with another woman, also Rumanian she guessed. His hands prodded at her welts, examining them, checking them over thoroughly. He patted her on the behind twice, hard, before letting her up. Swiftly she covered herself, turning her face to follow his movements around the room.

“You help her?” He was speaking to the American girl now.

“Of course, I'm a good girl” she responded. She spoke in a low, faux sexy voice, stepping forward and kissing him passionately. He stood stock still for a moment and then began to to paw at her, pulling at her shift. Suddenly, he cried out, swearing in his own language, and clutched his face. “you bitch!” he cried, pulling a long thin whip out of his belt and striking her across the breasts with it.

Her laugh echoed around the room and he struck again and again, pausing only to wipe the blood from his lower lip where she had bitten him. The other women who entered with him, moved over to him and placed a restraining hand on his arm, pulling him backwards away from the girl.

“Bitch. You lucky. I not kill you. Master kill you when I tell him” he panted, holding a hand to his now swollen lip. He turned and stalked out of the room, the woman tailing after him,

Ellie got up and moved to the American girl who was by now lying on her back, making rasping noises as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest was welted and red, long stripes edged with a tinge of blood where they had struck across her nipples, her shift providing little protection against the thin whip. Ellie began trembling in sympathy, patting uselessly at the welling drops of blood. The girl looked almost drugged, her eyes rolled back, her breath shallow and gasping. Suddenly she began to laugh; an odd, humourless sound which terrified Ellie further. She shook herself, her eyes finally focusing and grabbed at Ellie's hand, pulling it away from the cuts. “They're fine, sweetie. I'm fine.” She sat up, shaking herself, repeating “I'm fine” as if by repeating it, it would sound true.

“Why did you do that? Why provoke him like that?” Ellie was almost as shocked by the girl's actions as by the savage punishment they incurred.

“Sometimes, you have to remind yourself you're not broken”. She turned to look Ellie in the eye. “You have to show them you are still a fighter”. She paused and gestured at the other girls, scrabbling over the food plates or cowering in the corners “or you end up like them”. She laughed bitterly; “ Don't worry, the Master likes a fighter – he won't kill me, just hurt me a bit. Well, probably a lot.” She shuddered, the fight leaving her abruptly and all humour draining from her face. She appeared to sag, leaning heavily into Ellie, who pulled a blanket from the bed and covered the two of them with it. “You don't mind do you?” the girl enquired, almost hesitantly, the predatory woman of earlier entirely gone now. Ellie cuddled further into her, one hand holding the blanket away from the girl's wounded chest. The girl's breathing began to slow, settling into a slow hypnotic rhythm. To Ellie's surprise, her eyelids also began to droop. The terror of the past two days draining her to a point where she once again felt exhausted. She slept.