"That's damned dirty, pissing on yourself that way. That's something else I've got to punish."

"Oh no, please sir, I'm only a Sea Scout. Please, don't…"

Laurie's voice trailed off, her mind filled with terrible images while Jack moved out of her field of vision. Still the screw turned methodically under her, chewing up the few strands of hair that remained in the machine. Laurie shuddered, watching the process until she heard the lieutenant's footsteps behind her. The sound of something cracking like a pistol shot behind her brought the girl around. Laurie jerked against the lathe, her arms tugging at the ropes restraining her wrists while her ankles pulled back at the hemp.

"What are you doing?"

She was too terrified to look around. But Jack spared her that trouble, moving back into her field of vision and holding a broad black leather strap in front of her. It was the one the flag carrier wore round his waist when he carded the colors around the drill deck during weekends. Now he held it like a weapon, his fingers caressing the hard shiny surface. Moving it to within an inch of her eyes, he doubled the belt, snapping it several times.

It was when he disappeared from her vision that Laurie worried most. She wriggled her ass, feeling her cuntal walls shrinking back altogether while her tits remained pillowed against the front of the lathe. The rumbling of the machine made her cuntlips ripple against one another. The feeling was far from unpleasant as the girl worked her ass back and forth.

Curling her toes, Laurie waited for something, anything. And when the room filled with the hissing sound, of the leather belt cutting through the air she tensed, her asscheeks bunching up against one another like two clenched fists.