Sandbag Nabi
“Aaagh… uuugh…!”
The moment I freed her wrists, Nabi crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Moaning, she clutched her lower belly with both hands, writhing in agony.
“Hhk…!!”
The pained sounds spilling from her lips wouldn’t stop.
“Ugh… uuuugh…!!”
I had no intention of granting her even a moment’s rest. I seized a fistful of her hair and hauled her collapsed body upright by force. She rose with another strangled cry of pain.
“Who said you could rest?”
“Aah… please… hhk… sob… spare me… stop… please stop…!”
“Stop? Looking at the way your cunt’s dripping all over the place, you look like you’re about to die of pleasure. And you want me to stop?”
“No… it’s not like that…!”
Nabi begged, weeping desperately. The moment I deliberately brought up the juices running down her thighs, she kept denying it. Empty, meaningless defiance — but she clung to it all the same.
I bent down to pick up the dolphin shorts that had fallen to the floor, and noticed her panties lying on top of them. They must have slipped from her thighs down to her ankles while her body was thrashing around. I pulled the discarded panties back up to mid-thigh.
“Euh…!!”
My hand had only barely grazed her ankle and calf. Whether her body had grown hypersensitive or she was simply terrified, Nabi let out a short, sharp moan. I dragged the silver cotton panties — soaked through with her juices — up to her thighs.
“You drop these, you’re dead.”
“Y-yes… yes, yes…!!”
I threatened her in a low, menacing tone. Scared out of her mind, all Nabi could manage was a trembling yes. Getting her womb punched without warning would leave anyone terrified — that much was only natural.
Hearing my words, she spread her legs slightly so the panties draped across her thighs wouldn’t slip. The loose fabric stretched taut between her parted thighs and held in place. I released my grip on her hair.
“Uuugh…!!”
Even as she moaned, Nabi stayed on her feet this time. I bent down and picked up the dolphin shorts lying between her legs.
“Lift your foot.”
“Yes..!!”
She answered in a tiny, shrinking voice and raised her foot just enough. I yanked the dolphin shorts out from under her and held them in one hand, then scanned the room again.
I needed somewhere to hang her.
My eyes darted as fast as they could, searching for anything I could hook her wrists over.
“Ugh… hhk… hhk…!”
Nabi’s pained moans filled the air beside me. While I surveyed the room, she kept rubbing the lower belly I’d just beaten, still held by the hair in my other hand. The longer I spent hunting for a wrist-hook, the longer her rest stretched on. I needed to find something fast and get back to training her.
With her hair in my fist I still had her under control, sure — but if I let her rest too long, the whole atmosphere would go slack. Once a fire like this cooled, stoking it back up was a pain in the ass.
After a long search, a coat rack fixed high on the wall caught my eye. At a glance, it looked about the right height for Nabi’s raised wrists. I dragged her over to it by the hair.
“Aaaagh…!! Uuugh…!!”
I yanked hard enough to haul her whole body along, and fresh moans tore from her throat. In front of the coat rack, I let go of her hair.
I twisted the dolphin shorts into a long, thin cord and wound them tightly around both her wrists, binding them together.
“Euh…!!”
Nabi let out a light, tense whimper as I tied her. Binding those thin wrists with dolphin shorts wasn’t easy. I found myself wishing I had actual rope. Once this training session was over and I got home, I should buy handcuffs, ankle cuffs, and full restraints separately for next time. No — better yet, I should hit an adult toy site and do some proper window shopping. Nabi probably already had plenty of gear of her own, but picking up something like a Wireless Vibrating Egg wouldn’t hurt. And given her body, there were definitely costumes that would look filthy on her. Dressing her in something obscenely revealing and taking her out for a walk outside could be fun too. Bloomers, a cow-print bikini, a leather bikini — all that slutty cosplay…
Focus. Concentrate on training Nabi right now. I’d almost drifted off into fantasy and lost the thread entirely.
I cinched her wrists as tight as the thinned-out dolphin shorts would allow.
“Aaeuh…!!”
It must have been snug — Nabi tensed and let another soft moan slip free. I double-checked the knot to make sure her wrists weren’t coming loose, then grabbed the bound hands and hoisted them high above her head.
“Ah!!”
Her arms jerked up like she was being made to stand at attention, and she let out a short, startled cry.
Clatter!
Thunk!
I tore the clothes hanging on the rack free and flung them to the floor, then hooked Nabi’s bound wrists over the coat rack.
“Euh!!! Uh…!!”
I hung her there. It wasn’t high enough to force her onto tiptoe, but it stretched her body into a straight line, leaving her hands completely immobile. The short-sleeved T-shirt she still wore rode up with her raised arms, barely flashing her navel. At the apex of her Y-zone, her clitoris and parted pussy were fully visible. Below that, the silver cotton panties still clung to her thighs.
She was bound to the wall in a posture as humiliating as a medieval prisoner under torture. No — not bound. Hung. Like a slab of meat.
“Tsk…”
I took a moment to appreciate the pitiful sight of her, then felt a flicker of dissatisfaction. I shoved her top up higher.
“Hieek..!!! Stop…!!”
She poured out empty verbal resistance. I ignored it, of course, and pushed the shirt all the way up over her chest. Underneath the short sleeves was a silver bra cupping her breasts and belly. Her navel was a pretty vertical slit. The skin of her stomach looked pale and soft.
With her upper body bared down to the bare flesh, Nabi fidgeted her hands desperately, as if she wanted to cover herself out of sheer shame. But her arms were stretched taut on the coat rack — there was no pulling free.
That was enough preparation. Just like when I’d restrained her wrists for the spanking earlier, she was completely defenseless. That white belly of hers was about to turn redder and redder.
I looked into her eyes. They were full of terror — and yet, somehow, there was a strange flicker of anticipation in them too.
“More… st… stop…!”
Her voice was thick with fear. Or maybe it wasn’t. Hard to say.
Thud!!
“Haaagh!!”
I drove my right fist straight into Nabi’s unprotected belly without hesitation. The sound of soft flesh being pounded and her cry of pain hit at the same time. I hadn’t hit her hard enough to kill anyone — just enough to send a shockwave through her gut. But Nabi reacted like she was suffocating, wracked with enormous pain.
“Hhk… uuugh… it hurts… it huuurts…!!”
Including the earlier punches, she’d only taken three hits so far. And already she was whining about how much it hurt.
“Quit the theatrics, you perverted bitch.”
“Hhkuu…!! Please stop… please… just… leave me here…”
She kept begging in that terror-stricken voice, but the words went in one ear and straight out the other. From this point on, Nabi was a sandbag built for me to hit.
A little clumsily, I clenched both fists and settled into a stance.
“You let those panties slip, you’re dead. Top slides down, you’re dead too.”
“Aah…! Sto… stooop…!”
Thud!
“Uuuugh!!!”
Thud!!
“Hhk!!”
Rattle!
Thud!!
“Haaagh!!!”
Thud!
Rattle!
“Hhk…!! Stop…!!”
Thud!
Thump-thump! Bang!
“Aaaagh!!! It hurts!!! It huuurts!!”
With every blow, her screams grew more desperate.
Thud!!
Thump-thump-thump!!
“Hyaaaah!!!!”
I worked her belly with both hands in turn, the way you’d casually work a sandbag. After about six punches I looked down, and there it was — her stomach, already faintly red and swollen. The soft cries she’d started with had grown louder and more agonized with every hit. Around the third punch she’d stomped her feet and even tried to lift her legs to shield her belly, but with her body hanging like that, getting her legs that high was impossible.
“Aaagh… it really… hurts… it huuurts…!!”
After six gut punches, Nabi kept pouring out the same complaint. Before the beating she’d still glared, still talked back, still shown some will to resist. Now every last scrap of that will looked thoroughly broken.
“Please stop… please… stop…!”
There it was again — that same damn plea to stop. Was she doing it on purpose, or pretending not to know?
Thud!
“Haaugh!!!”
“Stop?? I’ve got no intention of stopping.”
“Hhk… hah… hhk…!”
Nabi was breathing hard.
Thud!
“Uuuugh!!!”
Thud!
“Aaaagh!!”
Thump! Thump-thump!
Two more hits to her lower belly, and her feet started stomping again.
“Ugh… uuugh… uuh…!! Hhk… hhkuu…”
Eventually even the foot-stomping stopped. She dry-heaved a few times, then dissolved into sobs. Exhausted, her head and body sagged under their own weight.
I stepped in close. One hand braced against the wall, the other gripping her cheek, I forced her face up so her eyes met mine.
“Aaagh… uuugh… hhk… hah…!!”
I saw her eyes, flooded with terror.
And then…
Huh?
Something started dripping from Nabi’s Y-zone in fat drops. Yellow. A few yellow droplets fell, then the stream opened up like a faucet left running. The stream hit the already-soaked crotch of the silver cotton panties stretched across her thighs and splashed onto the floor at the same time.
“Aaagh… no… no.…!!”
Her whole body trembled as she spoke in a voice thick with despair. Nabi, who’d been thrashing in pain under the gut punches… had finally broken under the fear.
She was pissing herself right in front of me.