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JODI’S TRIALS
Chapter One
The chamber is sparsely furnished, three of the shadowed walls covered with a sound suppressant, dark cloth material. The remaining wall displays a collection of various instruments for implementing punishment. A single lamp casts down from the ceiling equidistant to the four corners of the room, leaving it with a sinister, foreboding presence.
Delivered shackled, she has been standing in the center of the room for some time now while illuminated under the hot glaring lamp. Positioned to face toward the wall of implements, perspiration beads across her nude body, mixes with the soaking coat of body oil massaged over her bare flesh, chin to toe.
Gold studs sparkling from her fresh nipple and clitoris pierces augment her tanned, glistening flesh, giving her an exotically beautiful look, as she remains virtually motionless. Other then blindfolded with a black silk scarf, paired with the wrists, ankles cuffed and chained, she is virtually naked.
He stands silently, watches from the lone entryway, behind her. Muscular, tanned, he is also naked sans a black leather hood covering his face and head. The owner, the Master of the estate, he revels in the feeling, in the control, the utter dominance he now has over his latest arrival, his next project. He quietly approaches.
Slowly walking toward her he hesitates, evaluates her incredible, tanned form. Appearing to be in her late twenties, her glistening body is athletic, yet curvy. A thick, tightly woven braid of her auburn hair sways across her back, As he steps around her, the size of her natural breasts, large, yet extremely firm, impress him as her pierced nipples jaunt outward from the smooth tan areolas perfectly centered high on those symmetrical globes.
A single train of thought resonates in his mind. This naturally beautiful body trembling in front of him is his, completely his, for the time being. Brought to him for training, she is here in the privacy of his secluded Chateau, for as long as it takes, as long as he wishes, until he has molded her into an utterly submissive sex slave.
Her abductors have followed his instructions to the letter. He is more then satisfied with the initial preparation she has received before her arrival here just this morning. Since her abduction a few days ago and kept void of practically any sleep, she has been through the same routine daily.
In the mornings, she would be given a cup of broth, then unshackled, allowed to relieve herself, then be bathed, freshly shaven from the neck down. Next, she’d be re-shackled, then given a number of well placed, but not too harsh, strokes with a riding crop across the outer curves of her bare breasts as she held her arms above her head and forced to count. Led back to an unfurnished, brightly lit cell until her afternoon session, she would silently stand as instructed while absolutely forbidden to touch herself, anywhere.
In the day’s next session, her training was to obey, to stand, present her self, and follow instructions immediately, without hesitation. Each mistake received demerits followed by painful lashes administered across her breasts, the punishment centered across the gold studs piercing her nipples. Then left alone, forced to stand in the same cell, she would be forbidden to touch her self, especially to soothe the pierces, the welts left by the crop.
The third and final session of the day would be in the evening. Brought from the cell to a larger parlor, she would be punished in front of masked strangers for her demerits, again with the same crop, and again not overly harsh, but this time, initially across her buttocks, ending with a like number between her spread thighs, directly across the third stud piercing her clitoris, while humiliatingly forced again to keep track by counting aloud.
That session finished, led back to her cell, she would receive another cup of broth, forced to squat and have her wrist cuffs chained above her head to the wall, and left until morning, to repeat the routines all over again.
A cocktail of drugs, including Gamma-Hydroxybutyric-Acid would be administered with the little nutrition of the broth, which has immensely helped with the initial training. She is learning quickly. Since she has already been introduced to the crop to adjust her attitude, here her discipline sessions will be much longer, more stringent, far more severe.
Lethargic form the drugs, fatigued by the depravation of sleep, aching from the whippings across her most sensitive flesh; she has been barely able to comprehend her predicament. She is about to realize that not only is she a captive in this nightmare, she is being trained to be a submissive. She will come to understand she must obey, or she will receive discipline, painful discipline. Her only option will be to learn to instantly obey and satisfy him, completely.
She has been standing for over an hour as already trained too. Her lips slightly parted, though blindfolded her eyes lowered downward toward her feet, her arms lowered toward her sides. She waits, only the subtle sound of the chains gently swaying form her shackles disturbs the silence.
The tips of her fingers touch, crossing over, covering her freshly shaven pubic mound while the short chain hanging from her wrist cuffs brushes across the puffy folds of her bare labia. Silent, she is motionless except for the barely discernable movement of her aching breasts. Pressed together between her arms, jaunting outward, they gently raise, lower as she breathes, exhales. The gold studs twitch, gleam from her thrust out, impaled nipples as the faintest pattern of whip marks crisscross her symmetrical globes, leaving the remnants of the earlier adjustments of her attitude.
Time slowly passes by for her. She remains rigid, hazy, trying to think, to concentrate. Her eyes lowered, under the bottom edge of the blindfold, she barely catches the gleam of the studs glistening from the tips of her aching breasts. She recollects, three, or was it four days ago, possibly even more, since her abduction. She barely recalls being at a club, given a drink, becoming groggy, losing consciousness.
She seems to recall abruptly awakened from her unconscious state, finding herself in a dark room, stripped naked, cuffed, chained spread-eagled to the four corner posts of a bed, like in a terrible nightmare. She shudders as she recalls being surrounded, forced to watch as her breasts were twisted, stretched, both nipples pierced with long, thick skewers, one at a time, the thin studs, now glistening off her breasts, painfully mounted.
The thought of that searing pain flashes through her mind, the helplessness of being bound completely naked, humiliated in front of the masked strangers, her arms, legs spread wide, leaving nothing concealed as she was in agony, only leading to the horror of where the skewer would be used on her next.
Finished with her impaled, bleeding nipples, they centered their attention toward her vagina. She remembers screaming until hoarse, struggling until she again lost consciousness as they stretched her clit, impaling it with that same skewer.
Her left hand reflexively glides further downward, softly across the parted slit between her thighs as she recalls that torment. Trembling, her index finger, thumb, part the fleshy folds of her vulva as her right index finger slides downward, touching, feeling the other stud, the third stud, impaling her swollen still aching clitoris.
“Assume the position! Stop playing with your pussy! You know better!”
She noticeably jerks as she hears the harsh command. His voice breaks her train of thought as he steps in front of her. Instantly obeying, the chains sway; dangle as she lifts her arms quickly upward, across her face as her heart pounds, knowing she would receive punishment for touching herself. She reflexively arches as trained from the taste of the crop across her breasts these past few days.
“Higher slut. Above your head.” He directs as he steps toward the wall of implements, selects a short, thin riding crop, returns, positions himself just to the side of her left hip.
“Spread those legs wider too!” He adds as his leg brushes hers. She quivers, jerks, again obeying as she spreads for him, her buttocks thrusting back, her round, hard breasts jaunting outward.
Glancing toward her face, even with her eyes covered, the classical firm lines of her jaw, chin combined with her parted seductive lips make him realize she is going to be as beautiful as described. Reaching behind her neck, he jerks the black scarf from across her eyes. He is not disappointed.
Unthinking, glancing upward from the floor, for just a brief moment, she sees his naked body, his huge manhood, thick, hard, swaying between his thighs. His sinister glare from behind the leather mask frightens her more. She can’t help but seeing the wall in the background, full of whips, chains, countless devices, painful devices. She can sense the warmth spreading across her face from fear, humiliation. Quickly lowering her eyes, squinting, she feels the thumping in her chest as she obediently arches her arms further back, the short chains between the wrist cuffs tautly stretching apart, above her head.
Open your eyes and look straight ahead!” He orders. “On the wall… That’s right, they’re all for you! Now, push those tits out!” Hovering over her, he continues. “Further back… More I said!… Now!” Reaching up, he grips the shackles encasing her wrists. Jerking downward, he bends her backwards into an arch. Her initial workout session with him has begun.
Tugging lower and back even as she’s trying t position herself, he remains toward her side as her firm breasts shimmer under the light, jaunt outward, separate as she bow backwards in his firm grip.
The chains jerk between her wrists, the matching chains rattling between her ankle cuffs. Spread eagled, arched back into a semi-circle, her single braid of long dark hair sways back and forth below her tilted back head as her breasts rise toward him, forced to push upward. Her thoughts haze, lightheaded, she feels herself struggling to maintain her balance.
He hesitates, temporarily mesmerized by the twin mounds, the size of ripening grapefruits, and appearing just as firm, resting on her heaving chest. Her tanned areolas, perfectly centered, spread out tautly with the buds of her nipples sparkling from the thick, gold studs.
Holding her in position he savors the moment, watches her glistening body quiver as she struggles to maintain her awkward stance. Tugging her wrists further downward, he smiles as her breast arches upwards toward him. Slowly raising his right hand he again hesitates, firmly smacks the outer side of her left breast with his cupped, open hand.
“Smack!” The sound breaks the silence.
“Ahhh!” A moaning whimper escapes her parted lips. Barely audible, she reflexively bites her lower lip while twisting toward her right. Her firm round globe bounces, sways across her bare chest, the stud sparkling even as her flesh reddens.
Still forcing her to maintain an arch, he glances across her defined ribcage, hollowed stomach, beading with perspiration, bathed in oil, flexing with each rasping breath. Again, just the slightest remnants of whip marks visible, crisscrossing her firm melons.
His eyes lower, attracted toward the separation between her quivering thighs. He focuses on her pubic mound, vagina, smooth, freshly shaven, without the slightest hint of a razor nick. He stares even closer at the barely parted twin folds of her labia, reddened, puffy, again showing the traces of a whip. The puffy tip of her clitoris appears wet, glistens with its matching gold stud. He smiles to himself as he senses the tingling from deep inside his own groin as he imagines the numerous whippings applied to her most private areas the past few days.
Twisting, pressing his left thigh against her arched back shoulder he lets his swaying cock slide against her cheek, smack across the bridge of her nose, slip across her eyes.
“Like my cock slut? Want to taste it?” He scolds.
Grinning to himself, he lets his pulsing nine-inch shaft ooze its sticky fluid as he slides it back and forth across her parted lips before sliding just the tip of the swollen head into her mouth.
“Agghhhh!” Grunting, as she tastes the salty wetness sticking t her lips, she reflexively jerks her head away.
“You moved!” He scolds, breaking the silence as he takes a step back. “Don’t like the taste of my cock? Okay, you’ll be begging for more before you know it! Push that left tit up again… Further!… Arch your back more!… Touch the floor with your fingers!” He instructs with a rapid assertiveness as he firmly grips, circles her heaving melon with the open palm of his left hand, scrapping the stud, tugging at her nipple.
“More! Push it up more so I can give it a good, hard smack! This time though, with the crop! That’s it! Stay bowed, don’t fall backwards.”
Instinctively reacting, hands pressed against the floor, she finds herself complexly arching into a painful semi-circle. Still tasting the salty, thick moistness across her lips she closes her eyes, feels her heartbeat pounding in her chest as she obediently succumbs to his commands. She feels his palm begin to caress her sensitive flesh as she pushes her breasts outward, her arching body upward. Humiliatingly she senses her nipple reflexively hardening under his touch, the manipulated stud sending tingling sensations through her chest.
“Push that nipple out bitch!… Shove that stud against my hand!” He scolds as he watches her areola shrivel between his fingers as he holds his hand firm, palm down, steady, encompassing her breast.
Twisting her torso toward her right, she arches even further backwards while pressing her left breast up into his palm. Arched into a nearly impossible spread eagled position, the chains between her wrist and ankle cuffs tautly stretch as she whimpers while still feeling the stud in her engorged nipple brushing against his hand, compounding the sensation, much like electrical shocks reverberating in her breast. Confused, in pain, yet, somehow she feels an embarrassing arousal sensation.
“That’s it. Now, remain still” He smirks. “And, be ready to count! And, you haven’t thanked me for rubbing my cock across your face yet! Also, acknowledge which tit I’m whipping! Thank me when I do that too!” He continues. “Understand? Do it!”
“Yes, yes Sir!” She mutters. “Thank you for rubbing your cock across… My… My face! And… My, my mouth!”
“Okay, that’s better! Now, head down further. And don’t whine!” He adds as his right wrist begins to rise while his other hand slips from her breast. “I think a dozen or so will be a good start! Don’t you? Maybe the last couple between your slit!”
“Swish!… Smack!” The whistling sound of the crop slicing through the air is quickly followed by the sound of the leather striking her damp flesh.
The single tail leather whip snaps across her left breast, its pair of short split ends painfully curling into her bare flesh just below her exposed left armpit, the slightest mist spraying off her nude body.
“Agghhhh!” Trying to muffle her moan, biting down on her lower lip, she jerks, nearly falls backwards, struggles unsuccessfully to remain motionless as the crop digs into her breast.
He watches, grins as the leather, seemingly in slow motion, sinks into her soft, glistening flesh, curls across her thrust out torso. His cock stiffens, twitching as he observes her reaction to the stinging pain.
“Ohhhh… God!” She grunts, her naked body quivering, her bare round breasts smacking together before quickly jiggling to a standstill as her toes, fingers claw the floor.
Reflexively glancing upward toward the purplish stripe across her jiggling breast, she remembers, collects her thoughts, hoarsely rasps. “One… Oh… One!… Thank you Sir! Ohhhh God! That’s one across my… My left breast!”
“Tit! Bitch, that’s your tit, say it!” He admonishes as he reaches over, pinches, twists the nipple stud between his thumb, forefinger.
“MY… My… My tit! Ohhhh! That’s one across my left… Left tit!”
Her eyes squint as she jerks her head away, the sound of her own quivering voice obediently counting out loud resonating in her mind. The searing pain pounds through her tortured breast. Dazed, her perspiring body sways, she feels lightheaded. A fresh, red welt raises, glistens across her areola, just above the gold stud.
“I said remain still, and no more pathetic moans!” He orders. “I’ll count that one, this time. But, you better respond quicker or we’ll start over! Hear me?”
“Ohhhh! Yes… Yes Sir!” She mutters pleadingly as the pain pulses in her chest as she struggles to maintain her arch, perspiration, body oil mixing, dripping on the floor below her hands and feet.
Stepping in front of her spread eagled, nude form, he continues. “Now, eyes open. Stare straight at the floor! And, I said keep those arms and legs firm!” He orders in rapid succession. “Push up! Arch! Okay, push that other tit out toward me! That’s it! Hold still, don’t pull back or it won’t count, we’ll start all over again!”
Flicking the whip back he smiles to himself as he watches her chest heave, her body twitch, and the muscles, tendons glistening on her flexing arms and legs as she instantly obeys. God, he thinks to himself how much he loves the feeling of possessing her, whipping her, inflicting pain on her perfect, bare flesh, especially humiliating her.
Glancing at the glistening perspiration collecting across her hollowed stomach, below her defined ribcage, he gives the whip yet another flick, firm, but not overly harsh. The flexing dark leather glances across her heaving chest even as she is obediently pushing upward.
“Swish… Smack!” Slapping across the piercing, drawing a speck of blood, the split ends disappear into the rounded mound of the outer curve of that glistening breast.
“Oomph! Ohh my God! Two… Two Sir! Ohhh, thank you! Thank you for whipping my tit! My… My right tit! Agghhh!” She instantly squeals, blurts out even as her pain wrecked nude body gyrates, her fingers, toes curling, scraping at the floor.
“That’s better!” He leans over, whispers, watches as a new welt instantly springs across the perfectly tanned flesh of his victim’s bouncing breast. “You like your nipples whipped, don’t you?…… I said, don’t you like me to whip your nipples?”
Ohhh! Yes… Yes… I like you to whip my… My nipples!” She grunts back, biting her lip.
“This doesn’t count.” He whispers as he stares down at her heaving, shimmering melons, slides his free hand over the slippery globe, then the other.
Squinting, sobbing, she feels his hand pressing across both breasts, melding, squeezing, tugging the studs, before he cups his hand, flicks it across her thrust out mounds, back and forth, once, twice, a third time.
“Ohhhh!… Ahhh!… Agghhhh!!” Her breasts bounce, come to rest after smacking together.
“Okay, back to the crop!” He exclaims as he raises the whip in his hand. Now you can continue counting!”
Here breasts burn. Reddened under her glistening perspiration mixed with the body lotion, both display crisp, thin welts as they stand up, quiver on her bare chest. Her mind races, even above the pain. She realizes she will have to endure the sharp, stinging pain repeatedly. Again, she will humiliatingly have to hear herself counting, acknowledging the strokes. She reflexively braces for the next lashing.
Casually circling around her with his arm raised, crop in hand, he slowly scans her incredible form, the perspiration already beading, streaking down across the bare flesh of her erotic body, even pooling in her flexing navel. He smiles to himself as he watches her knees, elbows twitch as she arches precariously backwards. Struggling to remain motionless, she keeps her feet spread apart in the stretched chains, even as she sways, balances on her aching wrists, in pain, fatigued.
Reaching behind her neck, he tugs down on her long, braided auburn hair. Her head tilts painfully back even further as she is forced to stare straight down, toward the floor, tears welling in her dark brown eyes.
He senses the tenseness of her body. He can feel it through her reflexive quivers. He glances down across her glistening chest at the fresh thin red welts already rising on her trembling breasts, the gold studs gleaming, now with just a trace of blood oozing from her left nipple piercing.
“Now, this time, both tits! Right across those studs! Push ‘em way out there! Understand? Ask for it!” He directs, sliding the heal of the crop between the twin folds of her labia, slowly slides it back and forth, stretching the tender, moist flaps. “Push those tits up!” He commands as he thinks to himself that its time to see how well the DHB is working on her, satisfied with the thought that as he instructed, her orifices haven‘t been penetrated yet, that‘s always left for him!
“Yes!… Oh, yes Sir!… Both tits!… Way out! Whip me across both my titties! The nipples, across the studs! Okay?” She whimpers, trying to please him as she instantly thrusts her buttocks obediently back, jerks her breasts upward as she feels the leather handles grinding across the swelling nub of her clitoris.
Breasts jaunting out, swaying, stomach hollowing, hips thrusting out, her seductive, naked body takes on an even more exotic serpentine stance as she continues to stare down toward the floor through glassy eyes as her nipples, clit tingle, harden, even above the pain.
Trying to concentrate, to force her body to remain motionless, she feels her thighs twitching as the hard round leather of the crop presses between hr thighs, scrapes back and forth across the nub of her bare clitoris, the piercing. She feels the humiliating stirring deep inside. Again, it is a tingling, strange feeling of a heightened sensitivity she has felt off and on the past couple of days. Anxiety, apprehension, even a weird sense of excitement begins to mix, even overwhelm her.
“Bend backwards a little more! Arch and spread those shoulders! Arms wider!” He continues to command as he stands behind her while still firmly tugging on her hair with one hand while stroking the crop between her thighs with the other. “Spread that pussy!”
Manipulating her slit as she spreads it even wider, he enjoys his dominance, actually impressed by how fast she follows his every command, no matter how harsh or embarrassing.
“Push those tits up! Toward the ceiling! I want those nipples to point straight up! That’s it! Now bend those shoulders back some more! Concentrate on keeping those nipples spread apart!” He continues while glancing across her struggling form, still stroking her quivering slit with the hard leather handle.
Perfect, perfect, he thinks to himself as she instantly obeys each command. Forcing her to twist, arch, thrust her naked body into any position he orders heightens his adrenaline. He feels his shaft swelling, twitching, as he too feels a familiar tingling deep inside.
Her body bending practically backwards, her flexing stomach ripples, her glistening flesh stretching across her heaving ribcage as her thighs, hips quiver. Her arms stretch back tautly toward the floor, her shackled wrists spread barely a foot apart, the chain stretched out as she clenches her fists, her knuckles pressing against the carpet on the floor. Stifling her moans, she struggles to maintain her balance in her precarious position as she finds herself trying to ride the crop’s shaft as it drags slowly back and forth across the tingling stud between her thighs.
Her mind hazes. “I can’t bend anymore!” She thinks to herself, her hips twitching. She thinks about how hard he is going to whip her breasts with the very crop being used to stroke her burning pussy, poking, sliding between her thighs, grinding across the stud piercing her pulsing clit. She bites her lips to mask her moans. Her mixed thoughts confuse her as she feels her hips thrusting back and forth in rhythm to meet that hard, round shaft.
“Keep that ass pushed out!” He demands. “And… And keep your head back. Further! That’s it! I want to work on both those titties at the same time now! That’s good! Ready? Talk to me! Beg for punishment, then you can beg to be fucked!… For me to stick my cock up your pussy instead of this handle!” He continues in a monotone command as he releases her hair, steps toward her side, jerks the crop out from her stretched slit.
“Ohhh! Ye… Yes Sir! Ooohhhh!!!” She hears herself instantly obeying, grunting. “Work these titties! Both… Both tits Sir!” She whimpers apprehensively as she continues to curl backwards into an almost impossible position, reflexively tries to keep contact with the stiff leather handle as it’s being slid out off the stud in her tingling clit.
Breasts swaying toward her sides, legs quivering, hips thrusting back and forth as the hard shaft looses contact with her engorged clit, she blurts out. “Oh God! Please Sir! Whip these titties! Then, oh God! Then fuck me!! Fuck my pussy hard with… With that cock!”
Again, her mind races as she feel the crop losing contact with her quivering thighs. “God! What am I saying??? Be strong!! Yet she cannot help thinking. “Bend more! Her womb is tingling deep inside her. God!! Where’s that shaft???”
Painfully arching even further back, her arms, legs spread wider, her breasts stand tautly up, rock hard, practically straight up, off her sweat-drenched chest. Barely audible, she adds. “Is… Is this satisfactory for you? Sir!… Sir?? Is it??”
“Oh Yea!”… He quietly thinks as he stares at her firm, rounded melons jaunting up chest high in front of him. “That’s just right… Perfect!” He continues to think. “Let’s give you something to really think about now.” He smiles to himself.
Standing to her left, remaining silent, he watches as her breasts seem to quiver in sequence, glisten with perspiration on her rigid frame. He snaps the whip with his wrist, downward, harder this time.
“Swish… thwack!” The tip of the whip snaps across the floor close to her feet as he continues to stare toward her incredible breasts.
“Ohhh!” Whimpering, her fully arched body jerks. Her single braid of hair sways, its tip brushing across the floor. Her firm, global shaped melons spread, bounces as she struggles to maintain her awkward stance. She can almost feel the taste of the whip without it even touching her. Her heart pounds even harder.
“I said hold still! Don’t move or I’ll bury an extra stroke or two right up your cunt instead of fucking it!… Right now!” He threatens as he curls the whip in his right fist, flicks it around, slides the rear of its thick leather handle once again between her quivering legs.
This time he thrusts it harshly past the puffy folds of her glistening vulva, buries it four, five inches into her with a single thrust. Her hips jerk, spring upward to meet the hard, round leather handle. He thrusts it deeper, six, seven eight inches. The gold stud disappears, dragged with her clit inside her stuffed slit. Her hips begin to gyrate, her knees flexing as she tries to ride the thick shaft buried deep inside her.
“Ahhhh!! A hoarse rasp escapes her lips as her hips continue to twitch uncontrollably, her breasts bouncing, smacking together. “Aggghhh!!! Yessss! God! Yes! She grunts as he manipulates the crop.
Again, he enjoys his power over her, mentally and physically. He watches her body reflexively jerking, arching, twisting as the thick handle engulfs, stretches her wet vagina walls as he twists it back and forth in a circle, slides it in and out, deeper with each thrust.
“Ohhhh God!!! Yes… Yes Sir! I’m sorry! Ohhh! More! More! Deeper! Groaning, a tear streaks off her right cheek as her body contorts as she feel the leather handle spreading, stretching the folds of her labia, tugging at her pulsing clit by the stud.
“Stop!… Stop moving that pussy!” He sternly orders as he holds the crop motionless. Keep those hips steady! Quit fucking the handle, slut! Hold still! And get ready to count!”
Jerking, sliding the handle back out, he watches her pubic mound quivering as her vagina glistens, oozes, drips traces of her own bodily fluids.
“Ooohhhh!” A lone, muffled sob escapes her lips as again she senses the thick shaft slipping out from between her thighs. Her body shakes, uncontrollably.
Looking down at the wet leather handle, he flips it back around, feels the sticky pre cum of her vagina, grins as he wipes it back and forth across the side of her twitching left breast, then flicks it upward.
“Swish… Thwack! Swish… Thwack! Swish!… Thwack! The whip snaps briskly back and forth from right to left, the thin leather lash slashing across her dancing melons.
“Aaaggghhhh!!!” She screams.
“Count Bitch!” He scolds.
“Ahh! Ahhh Shit!!! Thr… Four… Fi…” Her babble is cut short as he unmercifully snaps the leather again.
“Swish… Thwack!” The leather snaps left to right, crisscrossing her taut melons yet again.
The last blow glances off the smooth surfaces of her tanned, stretched areolas, just nicking the studs. A fine mist of her perspiration sprays the air. Biting her lip, grunting, as he watches the leather bury itself into her bare flesh. His cock throbs, swaying between his thighs as his heartbeat rises. “Count! I said! Count!!”
“Agghhhh! Ohhh! Thr.. Threeee!… Tha.. Oh God! Four!!!… Four!… Five!! Oh God!!! Six… That’s six!!!! Master! That’s six… That’s six!! On both my titties! Ohhh Godddd!! My nipples!” She grunts, her arched body jerking, swaying as she struggles not to fall backwards across the floor.
Her mind blurs. Her vagina spasms. She thinks to herself. “Breathe… Breathe!” The pain shears through her breasts. She feels her arms quivering, burning. Her legs, thighs jerk from the stress. She struggles not to scream.
“Good. She’s breaking!” He thinks, glancing down toward her wet, oozing slit, amused at the site of the twin folds of hr vulva appearing to be quivering around the gold stud. “Now it’s time to give that pussy a real taste of the leather.”
Slowly shaking his head, he steps beside her spasm-wrecked body. “This lash across your pussy doesn’t count! Don’t cry out or I’ll double it!” He whispers as he leans down toward her ear. “Ready! Here comes!”
“Swish!” The whip flicks upward from the floor, the split ends snapping toward her gapping vagina, toward her exposed clit.
“Oh God!” Her mind races as she attempts to brace herself, dreading what is coming, her entire body noticeably stiffening.
“Smack!” The damp leather sinks into the tender flesh of her left labia fold, glances off the stud.
“Aaaaaggggggghhhh!!!” A single screech as her body jerks, lifts upwards. Her bare breasts flail above her straining chest. Her fingers, toes claw, scrap the floor. Specks of moisture flick from between her thighs, off the leather whip.
“Now, what else slave?” He sternly commands, leaning over her. “What else did you forget to say? Or do you want another one?”
The searing pain rips through her vagina. Her mind blurs as she tires to concentrate enough to blurt out something he wants to hear before he lashes her between her spread thighs again.
“Aggghhhhhh!!! Gadddd!!” Her body jerking, perspiration dripping onto the floor under her arched body, she nearly falls backwards. “Ohhhh!! Tha… Thank you! Thank you Sir for whipping my pussy!! My… My clit!!”
“For what?” He sarcastically asks as he again slides the round handle of the whip between her twitching pussy lips, across the stud piercing her swollen clit, taps it, and smacks it.
“Thank you! For… For whipping my titties! And… And beating my pussy! Thank you for hurting me!… Ohhh!”
“Good… Good!” He thinks to himself as he watches her body quiver, the moisture streaking across, dripping off her naked flesh.
“You know that each time you show disrespect by not thanking me for my effort with the crop, you’ll be admonished!” He softly whispers. “Now straighten up, look at me!” He orders as he lifts her head upward by her braid of hair. “And, keep stretching those arms and legs apart! Don’t touch yourself!”
Struggling to bend upward, joints burning, breasts swaying, arms, legs still spread eagled, she whimpers, again bites at her lip as he forces her to stand upright.
“Oh, my nipples, my vagina! God! They hurt so bad!” She can’t help muttering while she instantly obeys.
“That pussy will swell shut from the lash if that’s what it’s going to take! Then I’ll fuck it! Understand?” He scowls.
“Ohhhhh! No… No Sir! Please! I mean yes! I’m sorry Sir!” She blurts as she stands erect, quivering, feeling the throbbing pain of the whip across he breasts and slit. “I… I’ll be more respectful… I promise!!!! Just don’t whip me no more! Please! Just fuck me! Fuck me!”
“Yes! That’s what I want to hear!” He answers while watching her painfully rise up, yet knowing there’s more coming no matter how well she obeys.
“Now, sure you don’t want me to use this crop on your pussy some more before we fuck?” He nonchalantly asks.
“Wha… I mean No… Yes Sir!” She stammers, wide eyed. “Please! Will you just? Just fuck… Fuck me?” She finds herself humiliated, yet muttering to be fucked while feeling that stirring deep inside her womb, even above the pain, almost uncontrollable. “Please… Please fuck me now!”
“We’ll see! Spread those legs further apart. Arch! Then hold still! Don’t move!” He scolds while releasing her matting braid of hair.
Slowly circling behind her taut, arched, perspiring body, crop in one hand, his throbbing cock in his other, he gazes down toward the glistening stud protruding from the spread slit between her shimmering, quivering buttocks. He smiles as he leans against her warm, damp flesh.
End Part One
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