“You have plans to stretch the skin?” I heard one man ask.
“Maybe in time,” Jackson answered.
“Right now, it’s an effective punishment.”
I quickly saw his point. While the weights were not immediately uncomfortable, every second that ticked by made the feeling heavier and more unnerving. I had an instant of panic imagining the distended flesh ripping away as the piercings pulled through the skin.
“Back up, Marlena and bend over,” Jackson ordered.
Bend over meant punishment; I knew that without having to be told.
Moving was already difficult with the weights swaying between my legs. And by then, I realized that the loose chains that tethered my n*****s to the window frame would quickly be taut as bowstrings in this pose. I grabbed the windowsill for support, which apparently Jacks
