If you are familiar with the House Of Milan series of bondage books, you’ll recognize the abject hopelessness of Our Heroines who have been kidnapped by a crew of dirty cops in Strange Captivity (HIT 119):
It was much later. The naked girls could not know the time. Each stood on tip-toe, hands cuffed to the bars above their heads, their breasts protruding outside through the bars of their cell.
“They didn’t need to do this to us,” Gail mourned. “We did what they wanted. You’re right, they’re bastards.” She strained her naked slenderness upwards to relieve the cut of the metal on her wrists.
“As pretty a pair as I’ve ever seen!” It was a new voice, a new uniform. “Name’s Sam, ladies. Pleased to meet you.”
“Are you fucking us too?” Grace asked bitterly.
“I aim to, miss. But right now I want to use this little item.” Sam held up a quivering length of leather.
Gail’s heart hammered. A whip! Always a whip! Did men think of nothing else when they thought of a naked girl?
“Well, I suppose we’re nicely fixed for it,” she invited sourly. “Help yourself.”
It hurt as nothing else had hurt. The pain was less, but the shame was more. Two naked girls were being whipped within the sacred confines of law and order. The metal bands upon their wrists held them, strained and nude, for the officer’s convenience. He whipped them at leisure. He whipped them with a tremendous zest and enjoyment.
“Something I’ve always wanted to do,” he confided engagingly.
“Will you let us down when you’re through?” Grace asked without hope. “It hurts like hell standing like this.” She moaned in agony as the withe bit squarely across her rump.
“I’ll consider it,” Sam assured them in a voice that plainly said he would do nothing of the sort.
“We’ll do anything you want,” Gail promised abjectly. “But please let us down. It’s awful.”
“How ’bout this?” Sam asked. He brought the limber horror squarely down across her strained shoulders. Gail screamed.
“There must be something . . . something you want more than anything else? We’ll do it for you. But stop whipping us . . . Oh please! Please let us down. We’ll be nice to you.” Grace had abandoned all feminine reticence.
“Hell, lady. You’re doing all you can for me right now,” Sam assured her affectionately. “Don’t know when I ever felt so good with my clothes on.” He whipped her shrewdly across her thighs with a cut
that evoked from her a most satisfying scream.
“But you can’t whip us forever,” Gail pleaded without conviction. “Please stop. There’s other things.”
“Nothing near as good as this,” Sam exulted. With great accuracy he lashed her so that the tip wrapped ’round her thigh. He whipped the two naked handcuffed girls joyfully. It went on and on, until Gail began to believe it might go on forever…