[WillieMacJ] 
Petra's punishment _d_
As if to answer Petra's unspoken query, Meyer slowly raised the braided leather whip, and this time Petra could not avert her eyes from the lash. It was perhaps just as well that she failed to notice the self-satisfied smirk on the face of General Wolf. It was the look of a man intent on his own advancement, one who desperately sought to win the favor of the bosses in the Kremlin.
Petra gasped in horror as she stared at the whip. Until this moment, she had thought that there might be a reprieve. She was only a young woman, after all, not a veteran spy or saboteur, and she had done her best to convince her captors, untruthfully, that she had been an unwitting pawn in the grim game of East vs West.
But now the die was cast, and judgment was implacable.
And her punishment seemed only moments away.
Petra winces in pain as the two bare-chested brutes seize her arms in their powerful grasp, but her soft cry draws only smiles dripping with malice from the two goons. To compound her misery, it seems apparent that there will be no more girlish attempts to shield her lush breasts from the view of the gawking onlookers.
"They say that our blonde colonel is as mean as they come," Heinz muttered softly to Karl.
"That she was a leader of the Hitler Jugend during the war, and won high praise from Goering himself, for her harsh methods, when a couple of young girls in her circle helped an RAF pilot to escape."
Karl thought for a moment while his Aryan-blue eyes devoured the richness of Petra's full breasts.
"I'll wager she wants to prove herself to Wolf every bit as much as he wants to prove himself to the Russkis."
"Ja, ja," Heinz replied.
"If you ask me, Fraulein Petra. would have better off if the Russians had caught her. Better a few months in Siberia, than a few hours in the hands of Meyer and Wolf!"
Petra gasps in pain again as the muscular brutes increase the pressure on her arms. Half-paralyzed with fear, she can't take her eyes off the whip presented to her view so ominously by Colonel Meyer.
"Bitte ... bitte ..." she whimpers softly,
"Please ... please..." hating herself for giving the Stasi thugs the satisfaction of knowing that their attempts to intimidate her, indeed, to terrify her, have succeeded.
Stripped naked for their pleasure, feeling the heated gaze of everyone in the grim dungeon on her nude body, she realizes that she is utterly at the mercy of her captors.
She can only hope that somehow Meyer, or the Ice Bitch as she was known in Petra's circle of activists, would somehow relent.
"Es ist Zeit zu beginnen!" Colonel Meyer hissed harshly in a tone of voice that stripped the strength from Petra's lovely legs.
"It is time to begin" -- strange that a phrase so innocuous, could send shivers of trepidation through Petra's nearly nude body. But it was not the words themselves that made Petra weak in the knees, but rather the venom dripping from them.
Her terror mounting by the second, Petra would no doubt have slumped to the floor had it not been for the harshness of the grip of the two goons muscling her toward the sinister post.
Jerking their ripe-breasted prisoner roughly to her full height, they quickly bound Petra's wrists to an iron ring high over her head, accentuating the muscular tension in her limbs and torso.
"Her waist as well!!" Meyer growled. And within moments, the two thugs had bound Petra's waist so tightly to the post that she it was impossible to free her tender breasts from the harsh grasp of the rough-splintered post.
"Ouww!" she cried out, as the brutes pulled the waist ropes tighter still, seemingly intent on stealing the breath from her lungs.
"Tighter!" the Ice Bitch snarled.
"I want every stroke to find its target!"
Her flunkies wasted no time in following Meyer's order and Petra gasped in pain as she felt the rough friction of the whipping post against her soft breast-flesh, abrading her half-erect nipples.
It was already clear to the defenseless captive, that every stroke of the lash across her bare back would drive her sensitive breasts deeper into the cruel embrace of the post.
"Sehr gut! Sehr gut!" Heinz muttered approvingly, as he surreptitiously adjusted his trousers so as to give his raging erection a little more freedom. Petra's back was the perfect canvas for the lash -- her shoulders were gently rounded, and the muscles in her upper back had responded beautifully to the extension of her arms and wrists; her torso tapered downward in a subtle, sensuous V, and the sculpted southern curves of her backside peeked out invitingly from her indecently skimpy panties.
"Oh, how this slut of a spy is going to dance for us!" Karl enthused.
"Once the lash strokes start to fall."