Hank squatted next to the inverted woman, her body stretched four ways on the giant cross, her breasts falling toward her chin. Idly, he took a nipple between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it this way and that.

"Do you want me to let you down?" No immediate answer, and for a moment he wondered how well she could hear him inside the hood. But he knew that if she had heard him, she was thinking, knowing that he never asked a meaningless question. What would it mean if he let her down. Slowly, she shook her head no. Hank pulled the nipple to his lips and kissed it.

"Do you want to be my slave again?" No hesitation this time, a quick nod yes. It took some effort; obviously the blood was rushing to her head, making the position all the more agonizing.

"Do you accept whatever place I assign you?" She shook her head yes again, a bit slower. She was breathing hard now, and Hank could only imagine how warm and close it must feel under the leather. He pulled her nipple to his lips once more and kissed.

"Will you do whatever I ask?" A vigorous nod yes. "Will you fight me?" No, no. "You won't embarrass me like you just did with this little fuss you made about us hanging you up?" No, no, no, shaking her head and breathing harder. Hank squeezed her nipple in his fingers, and a series of muffled grunts came from beneath the mask as Sybil writhed her head this way and that.

"I don't have room or patience for any diosobedience. I have too many slaves to keep in line to put up with any nonsense. Do you understand?" He let go of her nipple and Sybil breathed a sigh of relief, nodding her head yes.

"You were a good slave, Sybil, but you'll need to be better, do you understand?" Yes. "Do you?" Yes, yes. "you have to match your sisters in obedience, assuming I take you back. Do you think you can do that?" A slow nod yes. then her head twisted, this way and that, as if searching out the other women, both of whom stood on either side of the cross, looking down at her, undoubtedly thinking "Better her than me."

"Are you ready for your punishment, Sybil?" A hesitant nod yes. "You can do better than that," he growled, taking her hood byt eh ring on the top and shaking it for her. She tried to cry out from under the hood but it was nothing more than a muffled mmmmmmppppphhh.

Hank stood decisively and snapped his fingers. Willow handed him the crop she'd been holding. He glanced at hiis two subs, both of whom were wide-eyed with anticipation.

"I really wish you hadn't forced me into this Sybil," he said, bringing the crop down on her open pussy. She jerked in her bonds, toes and fingers curling as her muffled cries tried to ecape the hood. He brought down the crop again and again, the terrible muffled cries getting louder, a terribly unnatural sound filling the silence of the playroom.

Hank stepped back and studied her for a moment, letting her recover for a moment. Then he handed the crop to Willow, who looked back at him with her pale blue eyes.

"She fought you, too," Hank said. He looked at Willow, then nodded at Sybil's tits. Slowly he stepped back, and folded his arms across his chest.