- without turning around, the girl answered shortly and expressively looked at Gosha.

He waved his hand somewhere deep into the hall and a minute later a melancholic blond worker appeared with a rope in his hands. He threw one of its ends through one of the numerous beams and pipes under the ceiling, and, having made a loop, firmly fixed it on top. He cut the lower end through one of the rings on Irina's collar and wrapped the rest of it around her waist, thus preventing the body from sinking deeper than necessary. Gosh let the woman go.

Irina remained indifferent, sitting hunched over and crookedly closing her quivering knees. The bells on the weights hanging from their breasts sluggishly called back from her convulsive sobs.

- Accept position, bl. d! - Irma shouted even louder and, swinging, again slapped the loud slap on the unhappy athlete.

The woman slowly arched her back and began to plant disobedient stiff knees to the sides. At some point, she suddenly felt a dull pain in the iliac and could hardly understand that the reason for this was the deeply embedded dildo, stood up on trembling legs ... Finally, she managed to spread her legs to the sides, exposing that bosom and sticking out of the backside is shiny with grease and dildo's own discharge.

- Well! - Irma said and nodded to Lange.

He again approached the athlete and hesitated a little, admiring the swollen burgundy blister on her chest. Then he drew the same cross on the second hemisphere and quickly receded, began artistically waving the whip, with a terrible whistle cutting through the air.

Irina, staring at the camera with a face purple and swollen from crying and slapping her face, was swaying, held by the rope wrapped around the waist, but she tried to keep her posture unchanged. Only rarely did she feel that she was beginning to painfully rest against her inside and she carefully stood up, sliding her anus up to the stop.

She practically did not feel her breasts. Only a solid heat in the entire front of the torso burned her, as if she was sitting half a meter from a large fire, where she and her husband were frying kebabs ... She suddenly remembered that feeling when, on a cold evening, they gathered around the fire and she froze cold, I wanted to warm up, then sat down right in front of the fire, but instead of warming up, the face, chest, face began to burn. And with the cold back it was so unbearable that she quickly turned around and began to warm up on the other side. She clearly saw pieces of finished meat covered with a juicy, appetizing crust and Dimka quickly takes out one of the skewers. She takes a paper plate and draws it to her husband so that he can scrape the knife one by one with pieces of meat. And he begins to fill her with a huge white plate, piece by piece. The plate is filled almost completely. “Enough, Dima, enough! What are you doing, how much have you already sketched me? You don't want me to get fat? "" It's all right, Er! There are only seven pieces. Only you sit straighter! Do you hear me, bitch? Just sit down, I tell you! ”He swings the skewer, on which the last piece of juicy meat remained, and aptly falls into the plate, on which the red strips of ketchup are poured. But the meat bounces off the plate and falls down, hitting its belly. "How many have you got, honey?"

- EIGHT! More please!!!

She was surprised to hear her voice, barely discernible in the noise of the second wave of loud, applause and approving exclamations of the Austrian. Irma jumped to the athlete and close the camera to her face, slowly lowered the lens to the chest.The second spot, symmetrically to the first, quickly manifested itself on the right breast, exactly in the place where the second cross was drawn. Irina continued to sit without feeling numb breasts, to the surprise of a few viewers. However, after a minute, her knees trembled and a new wave of dull pulsating pain held her body and she howled in an inhuman voice. For a while, the woman screamed in pain, turning her eyes wildly and trying to get to her feet. But tightly tied to the floor by the waist, she only vainly thrust her legs on the floor with spreading legs and soon she wilted, her head limp on her chest. Gosh grabbed her hair and lifted her head, letting Irma take a close-up look of disfigured grimace of pain, unnaturally red and covered with a mixture of snot and tears face. He took her by turns into the suffering distorted mouth with one finger first, then two, and then the whole brush, stretching it utterly.

There was a tense silence in the hall. Everyone was fascinated by the monitor hanging from the ceiling, following the skill of the operator and the genuine grimaces of the main character of the film, which no one has ever seen. Victor Vasilyevich smiled blissfully and gave the impression of the happiest man in the whole wide world. He peeked around, watching the reaction of the audience and did not doubt the correctness of the chosen genre and the concept of the emerging industry as a whole.

Meanwhile, Lange put the whip handle in her teeth again and returned to his chair, throwing off his mask and smiling at Gunter. Viktor Vasilyevich extended his hand to him:

“You are inimitable, dear Lange!”

Irma approached Viktor Vasilyevich and, crouching on the arm of his chair, began to share some ideas. Then she returned to Irina and took out the whip from her mouth and grabbed her cheeks, poured half a cup of whiskey into her. The scorching drink spilled on her chest and the woman convulsed again, but after a few minutes the screams became quieter and soon she again took up the necessary position, looking before her with a meaningless look. It was noticeable that her tired strong legs were no longer able to keep her body at the right level and she gradually sank down until a dull ache in her stomach made her convulsively lift up just as much as the short rope allowed to keep her in a sitting position.

Viktor Vasilyevich rose from his chair and, turning to the audience, said:

- Ladies and Gentlemen! We have just witnessed the highest art of whip ownership. Our gracious Lange graciously agreed to show us a couple of the most exact, delightful punches. But our laconic queen of the ball hm ... - he sarcastically laughed, causing a loud laugh from those present, - If you remember, asked for supplements, so to speak! And I think that if a woman urgently asks for something, then refuse her just a bad form!

In the hall there was a mocking laugh and rare replicas:

“Well, if you ask, you must respect! ... What an insatiable queen you have! ... But how! ...

“So, my dear ones,” continued the old man, “I want to invite you, dear guests, to take part in our little show.” Who is ready to help our lady?

Almost everyone raised their hands, expressing a desire to take part in the ending of the show.

Viktor Vasilyevich made an astonished face

- Bah! Yes, we seem to have gathered some noble people! Of course, I have no doubt that she gladly accepted help from each of you, but, alas, gentlemen, alas ... She had only four hits left! Therefore, I think we will cast lots now, so that fate itself will choose three gentlemen who will have to make our dear guest happy. Irma!

The girl, quickly counted the number of people in the spectator part of the hall, looking eagerly at the athlete who was shaking from what she had heard. Then she cut the right amount of paper sheets, marked four of them with a marker and, throwing them into a package, went through the rows.

Irina listened with horror to what was happening in that part of the room and twisted her head insanely, continuing to grit her teeth to keep the ill-fated whip in her teeth.Instinctively making several unsuccessful attempts to get up, she closed her eyes. She thought that the most terrible thing was not the torture itself with pain, but the fact that completely strangers who came to the island from nowhere and who see it for the first time now play the right blow to her breasts that are already detached from whipping. “This is not a movie with a script, this is a reality show! “- flashed through her head. And what if ... She had no doubt that these people would stop at nothing and if they had a desire to finish her off, they would do it. And they will do it with great pleasure, savoring every moment ... But what about its main purpose? Running, weight lifting? A trip to the competition and, finally ... freedom? "Freedom? And who told me that there will be freedom? ”Someone whose name I don’t remember? So he promised that there would be only competitions and no prostitution ... However, what kind of prostitution is this? This is not prostitution. This is slavery ... "