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Chapter
Seven Nothing like an Incentive
I am not sure how
long I was left suspended in the darkness of the garage at 17 Wisteria Lane,
but I think it was close to one hour before they silently returned, untied my
ankles, and unfastened the ropes suspending me in the air. My body ached all
over from the pain of the beating and the strain of being suspended. Diane gave
me support to assist me to walk into the lounge, and even helped me dress as my
shoulders and arms were so sore from having supported my weight. Somehow I
managed to drive home, whereby I collapsed on my bed and fell asleep with
exhaustion.
Although I was
bruised and tender for a few days the welts on my back disappeared surprisingly
quickly. My attitude towards Mark and Diane, and the punishment I was receiving
at their hands had definitely changed. Although I lacked understanding of what
was happening to me on an emotional level, I just knew that the incredible
intensity of these sessions was like a high to me. I felt more alive than I think
I ever had in my whole life.
I fired into the
exercise and diet routine with even more vigour. I religiously did all the
running and aerobic exercises Mark had laid out for me, and stuck totally to
the diet. People I associated with began to notice a change in me. I was no
longer a total bitch. I was more relaxed and accepting of people’s frailties. I
also beamed with pride when a couple of people noticed I had lost weight.
Early on the
Saturday morning of the following week I was lying in bed in a sleepy haze when
I heard a knock on my door. Grumbling about people’s inconsideration, I
shuffled down the stairs in my dressing gown and slippers. I was shocked when I
answered the door to find Mark and Diane standing there, clothed in running
gear and sweating.
“Come on, we’re
going for a run around Skeltons Park,” Diane was chirpy and full of enthusiasm.
Skeltons Park was about a half mile away from my home, and was a small wildlife
reserve with a circular jogging trail snaking through it.
I held my mouth
open in surprise. “A run, with you two fitness freaks. I don’t think so. But
thanks for the offer,” I smiled politely. I could just imagine myself dragging
my 42-year-old body along, struggling to keep up with these superbly fit
teenagers. It was a humiliation I could do without. Even though I had begun
jogging as a part of Mark’s fitness routine, I was still basically unfit and
only managing to jog short distances before I was exhausted.
“Please?” Diane
pleaded, still smiling.
“No,” I replied.
“Yes,” Mark spoke
quietly but firmly.
When I looked
over to Mark his eyes were locked onto mine. He had that look of supreme
confidence that belied his nineteen years. I could see he was commanding me,
and I felt my body gather goose bumps.
“But I am in no condition
to run with you two,” I pleaded. “Perhaps another time when I am really fit
from your program,” I added, hoping to impress him with my motivation to follow
his diet and fitness program.
Mark ignored my
comments. “If you do not have your running gear on in 60 seconds you will be
punished right here, right now, at your front door.”
I stood aghast,
but not for long as Mark glanced down at his watch. “You have already wasted
almost ten seconds.”
In an instance I
turned on my heels and fled into the laundry where I had discarded my running
clothes following my last jog two days ago. Fortunately they were all together
in one pile, and I threw off my dressing gown and pyjamas and quickly dressed.
I was conscious of the time limit, which made me panic, and it seemed to take
me forever to perform the simple task of putting on my sports bra, singlet,
running shorts and socks. I picked up my running shoes and sprinted back to the
front doorway where Mark was looking at his watch. I was already sweating.
He shook his head
from side to side. “Ten seconds late.”
I closed my eyes,
and tried to control my breathless panic. “Please Mark, be reasonable,” I
gasped, “I tried very hard. It was impossible.”
“Nothing is
impossible,” Mark responded with such conviction I was certain he believed it.
“Lower your shorts to your knees.”
I opened my mouth
in horror. “Please!” was all I could utter.
“Do you want to
make the punishment worse than it already is?” I could feel his gaze burning
into me.
I hung my head in
defeat. “No,” I pouted
We were all
standing just inside my front doorway, which was wide open. I briefly glanced
out of the door and could see the footpath and roadway. There was no sign of
life, and I prayed my neighbours were all still safely tucked away in their
beds.
I knew from my
brief experience dealing with Mark that to protest further would only be to my
ultimate detriment, and only delay the inevitable. Therefore I took a deep
breath, hooked my fingers in my running shorts, and quickly lowered them to my
knees as instructed. My running shorts are the type that has a built-in gusset;
therefore I was not wearing any panties underneath. I felt incredibly exposed,
as I was standing in my front doorway, naked from my waist down to my knees. My
most intimate parts would be in full view of anyone from my neighbourhood who
strolled past.
“Bend at the
waist,” Mark continued to push the boundaries.
I felt shamed as
I bent over, presenting my buttocks to Mark. I also knew that Diane would also
be getting a full view of me. Fortunately Mark did not delay my torture any
longer. He spanked me quickly, but very firmly, ten times with his hand. One
spank for every second I had been over his one-minute deadline for dressing. I
grunted as each spank connected with my sensitive buttocks, but bit down on my
bottom lip so as not to make too much noise which might draw attention to me
from passer-by’s.
When he was
finished he reached down and pulled my running shorts up, treating me like a
young child who had just been scolded.
“Are we ready for
a run, now!” Mark emphasized the last word.
“Yes, sir,” I
responded meekly, rubbing my inflamed buttocks.
Before I knew it
Mark and Diane had set off jogging down the road, and without a further thought
I raced off after them. My house was unlocked, but at that moment in time it
did not rank as my most critical priority. I struggled to keep up with them and
was breathless by the time we reached Skeltons Park. Fortunately we paused at
the beginning of the jogging track that formed a loop within the wildlife
reserve.
Mark turned to
look at me. I was bent forward, with my hands on my knees, sucking in air.
“I am going to
give you ladies an incentive to get fit,” Mark announced boldly.
“An incentive?” I
managed to respond between gasps. Diane also gazed warily at Mark. Clearly she
was not aware of this.
“Yes, Norah, an
incentive,” Mark continued. “We are going to run one circuit of the track. I
will give you ladies a head start. If I catch up with either of you, you will
be punished.
I was shocked.
Diane was not exactly shocked, but she did look more than a little
apprehensive.
“Okay ladies,”
Mark clapped his hand together like a schoolteacher, “Are we ready? Norah,
given your old age, lack of fitness and the fact you are overweight, you can
start first. Go!” he yelled, pointing down the track.
I did not have
time to be offended by Mark’s comments. I set off down that track as fast as my
aged, overweight, and unfit body would go. I had walked the track in the past
and knew from the signposts it was a circuit of around 2500 yards of hilly
terrain. It was a pleasant, picturesque walk. I knew I would feel differently
about it, trying to run it at speed.
I was a little
over half way around, and already struggling to keep running, when I heard
footsteps behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Diane close behind me,
then in a matter of a few strides, and a quick wave, she had passed me and was
rapidly disappearing in the distance. I tried to chase after her but I had no
show of keeping up. I frantically began glancing over my shoulder every few
seconds for any sign of Mark.
I kept pushing
myself despite my lungs feeling like they were going to burst out of my chest,
and with only a few hundred yards left I almost began to believe I might make
it back before Mark caught me. I stole another quick look over my shoulder and
to my total dismay Mark was only about 20 yards behind me. I summoned every
last bit of energy and tried to keep going. With less than a 75 yards to go I
dared to steal another glance over my shoulder and groaned in horror when I
found a grinning Mark lopping along effortlessly behind me.
I could hear
Diane cheering me on, but it was to no avail as Mark cruised up beside me and
strode clear. With that I just gave up and collapsed onto the ground, still
short of the finish. Pride made me pull myself to my feet and I staggered the
final few yards, totally wasted.
“That was
pathetic,” Mark spoke with contempt. His criticism hurt as I had given it my
very best. Shaking his head in dismay he walked over to a nearby tree and broke
off a small wispy branch. He swung it through the air and I could hear the
whistle it made. It caused me to flinch with fear.
“Take off your
clothes,” he ordered.
“Mark, please!” I
begged, “Not now, not here.” I looked to Diane for support. She was chewing one
of her fingernails; actually seeming apprehensive about what Mark was going to
do to me.
Mark reacted
angrily. “When will you learn to do what you are told? Are you plain stupid, or
are you deliberately trying to increase your punishment? That’s it, isn’t it?
You love being punished so much you are graving for more.”
“Absolutely not,”
I responded indignantly, “Your punishment hurts me a great deal and I hate it.”
“Well, if you say
so. I guess that means you are just plain stupid. Undress!”
I felt genuinely
ashamed I was letting this 19-year-old male tenant of mine treat me in such a
rude and debasing manner. I did not totally resent Mark, as it was my own
inability to control my emotions that was allowing him to treat me in such a
manner.
“All my clothes?”
I meekly enquired.
“The whole lot,
my dear landlady,” he responded with smarmy grin, idly flicking the whippy
branch in the air. “Even the shoes and socks.”
I looked around
furtively, praying there were no other early morning joggers or walkers using
the track. Even though I could see no other sign of life I was still extremely
reticent to undress out in the open. It is humiliating enough to be told to
strip naked inside a house, but outdoors is worse because of the constant risk
of being discovered.
Mustering up all
the courage I could, I quickly removed my shoes and socks, then stood up and
removed my singlet and sports bra. I was now only dressed in my running shorts.
I took a quick look around me again to ensure we were alone, before quickly
lowering my shorts and kicking them off my feet. I was now standing totally
naked in the middle of the wildlife reserve. It was a very weird feeling to be
nude, surrounded by nature. Even though I felt very vulnerable, there was
something strangely exhilarating about it.
“Clasp your hands
behind your neck,” Mark directed.
I obeyed.
“Stand on one
leg, and curl the other leg up behind you,” Mark continued.
For a moment I
looked at Mark with a frown, before tentatively following his directions,
wobbling about as I struggled to keep my balance. Suddenly, without warning,
Mark brought the whip down on the sole of my raised foot. I was shocked and
surprised and let out a fearsome yelp, lowering my foot and jumping around with
pain.
“Get back into
position,” Mark directed.
I looked at him
with pleading eyes, but knew there was no way he would change his mind.
Tentatively I balanced on one foot again, then raised my sole. Again the whip
bit into the bottom of my foot with excruciating pain. I had not realised how
tender the bottom of one’s feet are. I repeated my little dance as I stomped my
foot into the ground, trying to dissipate the pain.
Mark repeated the
exercise until I had three painful welts across the bottom of both feet. Tears
were streaming down my face.
“Now get
dressed.” Mark ordered, thankfully throwing away the whippy branch.
I dressed in
record time, fearful that my cries of pain would have attracted attention. I
winced as I put my shoes on.
“Just a little
incentive to motivate you to do your training better,’ Mark grinned.
I opened my mouth
to protest that I had been sticking strictly to his training schedule, but
thought better of it. Without another word Mark headed off, jogging down the
track that led back towards my house. I was sure my body could not run another
inch, but Diane grabbed my hand, kissed me gently on my cheek, and then dragged
me off in the same direction.
Somehow I managed
to shuffle my tender feet in a slow jog until we reached the front door of my
house. Having the beautiful, athletic, Diane jogging beside me gave me extra
strength.
When we arrived
the front door was open, but there was no sign of Mark. As we entered I could
see him in my kitchen, helping himself to my fruit juice. I was annoyed he just
walked in and helped himself, but dared not utter a word.
He offered a
drink to Diane, but ignored me. Wordlessly they gulped down their drinks before
walking towards the door. Mark stopped as he passed by me, looking down at me
with his intense brown eyes.
“Are you not
going to thank us for taking you on a training run?” Mark raised one eyebrow.
I looked at
Diane, then back at Mark. “Thank you both for taking me for a run. I really
appreciate it.” I tried to sound sincere.
“Good, I’m glad
you appreciated it. We must do it again soon,” Mark grinned. “And what do you
know, it is rent day this week. Oh joy. Collect it on Thursday, as I am busy on
Wednesday. Make it 8.00 pm sharp. “ With that comment he patted me on the head
before they both disappeared out the front door. I just shook my head in
despair. I was exhausted and degraded, yet I knew that come Thursday I would be
knocking on the door of 17 Wisteria Lane to collect my rent, knowing that my
young tenant would punish and humiliate my body as he saw fit.
With Thursday set
as ‘rent collection day’ I dared not dwell on what might unravel on that
evening, as I did not have the fortitude to cope with my diverse emotions that
still swirled around in my head. Dred, fear and humiliation were over laced
with an exquisite, heightened feeling of sexual anticipation that left me on
the verge of constant arousal. I worked on my fitness even more, exceeding the
plan set out for me by Mark. I even began reading inspirational stories written
by athletes. I was totally focused on proving myself to my young tenants.
At night I was
falling into bed, exhausted. Once in bed I would masturbate myself to sleep,
usually accompanied by some fantasy involving Mark or Diane.
Thursday dragged
by, and I thought 8.00 pm would never come around. For the last few hours I was
a nervous wreck. I made myself a meal for dinner but found I had no appetite. I
showered after checking that my pubic hair was trimmed into a perfect triangle
and cut short, plus I waxed my legs again.
As I knocked on
the door of 17 Wisteria Lane I was so nervous I was sure I was going to faint,
or vomit, or both. I was as apprehensive as I had ever been. I had to put my
hand on the porch balcony to support myself.
It was Mark,
himself, who answered the door. I gave him a nervous smile, fighting off the
feeling of nausea.
“You look like
shit,” was his only introduction.
Instead of
inviting me in he reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of money, and thrust
it into my hand. I stared at him like an idiot, uncomprehending.
“Here’s the rent
money. We are busy at the moment. We will ring you when it is convenient to
come around.”
With that comment
Mark closed the door in my face, leaving me staring at the faded brass
doorknocker. I felt gutted. I shouldn’t have, as I had got my rent, and that
was the reason I had come. But I could no longer deceive myself. I was
overflowing with a deep need that had to be satisfied.
For a long moment
I stood on the porch, willing the door to open, hoping that Mark was just
playing with my emotions. Reluctantly, I eventually retreated to my Mercedes,
and drove home, feeling empty and alone. When I arrived at my house I parked in
the garage, got out and stood beside the car in the semi-darkness. A silent
mantra echoed in my brain. ‘Humiliate yourself, humiliate yourself, humiliate
yourself’’.
Fully clothed, I
placed my hands behind my head and interlaced my fingers, but kept my legs
closed. I badly needed to pee, but I forced myself to stand, and submit, to the
gathering darkness. I must have stood there, silent as a statue, for a full
thirty minutes. Then I relaxed my bladder and pressed down with my diaphragm.
Urine began to dribble out of me and soak my panties. My natural instinct was
for me to flee to my toilet before it was too late, but I forced myself to hold
my position. Urine began running down my legs, then a widening stain appeared
on the front of my white dress.
I stood like that
until my bladder was totally empty. The front and back of my dress were soaked,
as were my shoes, and I was surrounded by a large puddle. I undressed, and
threw my clothes onto the hood of the Mercedes. I quickly located the ropes I
had used previously. Tying it around my waist, I looped it between my legs,
pulling it tight into my vagina before securing it in the front. The rope was
tight and dug deep into me, but I was not satisfied. I took another length of
rope, secured it to my waist, and again pulled it hard between my legs and tied
it. The two ropes pinched my labia together painfully, causing me to groan. I
forced myself to put my hands behind my neck again, then I opened my legs,
causing the ropes to bite into me even more. Tears welled up in my eyes. I
forced myself to hold the position for what I estimated must have been thirty
minutes at least.
I was in pain,
but desperately need to cum. I hobbled over to the bonnet of the Mercedes, and
sprawled over the front of it. Like some grotesque, erotic dancer I began to
squirm on the bonnet, running my engorged clit up and down the gleaming
paintwork. It was frustrating, as I found it difficult to get the necessary
friction on my clit I needed to cum, but my silent torturer forced me to keep
at it. Eventually the release I craved swept over me in a powerful spasm.
I sulked for the
next two days over my rejection by Mark, neglecting both my diet and training.
It was a dumb way to try and get back at him. My palms sweated each time the
phone rang in expectation that it could be my young tenants. I had to force
myself to focus on my work.
I never heard
from Mark or Diane at all over the following two weeks. I couldn’t help feeling
like a young lover who had been ruthlessly discarded by her boyfriend. I tried
to get back to the dieting and fitness regime, but I lacked focus and drive and
slipped back into my old ways. I was moody when dealing with people.
I was therefore
not in a friendly or forthcoming frame of mind when I picked up the phone one
evening, only to find my ex-husband, Ross, on the other end. We had divorced
seven years ago when he had left me for his buxom, bimbo, secretary. Ross
required an address from me of a mutual contact. He did enquire as to how I was
going, but I just grunted in a dismissive tone and read him out the details of
the address he required.
Just as I was
about to hang up on him, Ross made a parting comment. “Oh, by the way, I
understand one of your tenants works in my office.”
“And who might
that be?” I responded grumpily
“Diane Stutz. I
understand she and her boyfriend rent your weatherboard place in Wisteria
Lane.”
My blood ran
cold. “You know Diane? She works for you?”
“Yep, sure does.
Small world, eh,” Ross responded cheerily before hanging up.
I stared at the
phone as if I had caught it lying to me and I was waiting for an apology.
Surely Diane could not have mentioned anything to Ross. I was still distracted
by Ross’s comment when the phone rang again a few minutes later.
“What?” I
answered moodily.
“Norah, this is
Diane. The rent is due today and Mark says you are to pick it up tonight at
7.00 pm.”
I looked at my
watch. “What? It is already 6.40 and I haven’t even had dinner. You must be
crazy. I cannot possibly be there at 7.00 pm.”
Diane paused on
the other end of the phone, before responded quietly. “Are you sure that is the
message you want me to give to Mark?”
I took a couple
of deep breaths. My mind was whirling with confusion and I briefly felt my life
was spinning out of control. I forced myself to put aside my anger, and tried
to focus my mind. I did not want to go to Mark and Diane’s, but I needed to go.
A need was driving me I that I still struggled to understand.
“I will be
there,” I calmly responded.
But once I had
hung up the phone I was anything but calm. I did not have time to shower or
even change my clothes. I grabbed my car keys and set off towards Wisteria
Lane, knowing that even by exceeding the speed limit I would still struggle to
make it by 7.00 pm.
As it turned out,
I struck every red light possible and was almost a full ten minutes late. I
hastily parked the Mercedes and raced up to the front door, banging the
doorknocker. Diane opened the door almost immediately.
“You’re late,”
she seemed anxious.
I frowned at her.
“I did my very best. Have you any idea how long it takes to drive over here?”
Diane did not
respond, but ushered me inside. “I think you know what to do.’ She briefly put
her hand on my shoulder before disappearing down the hall to her bedroom.
I breathed deeply
and tried to settle my nerves. Fortunately I had been in such a hurry to get
here I had not had my usual panic attack, but the fear of the unknown still
made me nervous. I forced myself to begin undressing and did not stop until I
was totally naked. I then interlaced my fingers behind my head in the manner
shown to me my Diane, and opened my legs.
I had just
completed this task when I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. I
looked over my shoulder, and couldn’t help but groan at the sight of a totally
naked Diane coming towards me. Again I marvelled at the sight of her beautiful,
taut, athletic frame. The sensation I felt at that point was nothing short of
pure lust, which was totally confusing given I considered myself a full-blown
heterosexual.
Without uttering
a word, Diane stood beside me, then assumed the same stance as me: hands behind
her neck and legs opened to about thirty inches wide. Our eyes locked but
nothing was said. There was tension in the air.
Like sacrificial
lambs we stood, waiting for over fifteen minutes before Mark finally entered
the room. He stood before us, and with an air of arrogance he looked both of us
up and down, from head to toe, as if we were two items for sale at an auction.
Finally he turned
to Diane, “Fetch the weighing scales from the bathroom.”
I inwardly
groaned in dismay. I had been so angry and self-absorbed over the past two
weeks I had neglected both my diet and fitness. In fact I had been feeling so
sorry for myself I had been drowning my sorrows by constantly eating rubbish
food.
Diane returned
with the scales and gracefully placed them at my feet. I just stared at them,
afraid to step on. Without warning Mark stepped forward, grabbed my left arm,
turned me side on, and laid into me with a flurry of severe hand spanks on my
buttocks. I screamed out in shock and pain.
“Get on those
scales, you stupid bitch,” he castigated me without mercy.
I desperately
wanted to rub my burning buttocks and fought to keep my hands behind my head.
Tearfully I stepped onto the scales.
Mark glanced
down. “149 lb,” he read out, without emotion. “What did you weigh last time?”
I grimaced in
genuine shame. “144 lb, sir.”
“Are you telling
me you have put on 5 lb?”
“Yes, sir.’ I
tried to stop my bottom lip from quivering.
“Have you been
following the diet and exercise program I gave you?”
“No, sir,” I
whispered.
“What is it with
you? Do you like being fat and unfit?” Mark sounded genuinely ashamed of my
behaviour
“No, sir,” I
responded miserably.
“Well, what
excuse can you possibly have?”
“I am so sorry,
sir,” I snivelled, “I have been weak and self-absorbed.”
“What am I to do
with you?” Mark raised his eyebrows in an enquiring gesture.
All I could do
was look at the floor in genuine shame. I realised I had let myself down.
“I am far from
happy with both of my woman,” Mark continued. “Diane has failed a vital
mid-term exam, and Norah can’t be bothered looking after herself. One of you is
lazy, and the other is fat and lazy. Both of you get in the garage. You can
expect to be punished severely.”
With our heads
down on our chins, Diane and I shuffled away to the garage, neither of us
daring to take our hands away from behind our necks. Once in the garage we
stood in the semi-darkness, arms up and legs open. We gave each other a small,
nervous smile, but neither of us dared to speak. I had never seen Diane quite
so apprehensive before, which made me really concerned about what punishment we
may receive.
We stood silently
in the garage for what seemed an eternity, and must have been close on thirty
minutes. When Mark finally entered we both arched our backs and thrust our
elbows back, pushing our breasts forward. It was a conscious and submissive
gesture to Mark, acknowledging his status as a dominant. Both Diane and I
flinched at the sight of the ugly black whip he held in his hand. Mark stood in
front of us, resting the whip on his shoulder where we could see it clearly.
“It seems the
punishment I have been giving you two ladies has not been having the desired
affect,” Mark begun his lecture, “Therefore I think it is time to try something
a little different. You will punish each other!”
Our mouths
dropped open, and we both glanced at each other wide-eyed.
“Here’s the deal,
my lazy ladies,” Mark continued. “You will take turns whipping each other,
changing after every two strikes. The first person to take their hands away
from behind their heads is the loser. And you know how we hate losers;
therefore the loser will receive six strikes of the whip from me.
We screwed up our
faces in dismay.
“What’s more,”
Mark added with a wicked grin, “The six strokes will be directly on the loser’s
chubby little cunt.
We screwed our
faces up even more, and I couldn’t help but groan.
“Right ladies,
let the games begin!” Mark brought his hand up to his mouth and made a noise
like a bugler beginning the fox hunt. He laughed at his little joke, but
somehow Diane and I could not see the funny side.
“Norah, since you
have been both fat and lazy, I think you should be whipped first. Is that not a
fair decision?” He cocked his eyebrow.
“Yes, sir,” I
mumbled quietly, my eyes fixated on the whip as he passed it over to Diane.
I stood nervously
as Diane disappeared behind me. I held my breath trying to anticipate the first
strike. When it did slash across my buttocks the pain was greater than I
expected. She was obviously not holding back. The second blow was even harder,
and I cried out in agony. I had to force myself to keep my fingers interlaced
behind my neck, as I desperately wanted to rub my abused buttocks.
I had closed my
eyes, and when I opened them again Diane was standing in front of me nervously
holding out the whip for me to take. I took it from her, and was immediately
fascinated by the feel of the leather. I had not even held a whip before, let
alone hit anybody with one. Once Diane had handed the whip to me she took a
step backwards and placed her hands behind her neck.
Tentatively I
walked behind her. I looked down at the firm, pale flesh that covered her
buttocks. They seemed so perfect it seemed almost a crime to disfigure them
with a whip. But I had to be strong willed, as I desperately did not want to
receive a whipping on my pussy from Mark. The thought of it made me shudder. I
raised my arm, took a deep breath, and then brought the whip down on Diane’s buttocks.
She let out a small groan, but I immediately knew that it was a lot less
vigorous than the punishment she had inflicted on me. I swung my arm a lot more
powerfully on the second strike, and this caught Diane by surprise. She let out
a yelp and stepped forward, but managed to keep her hands in position behind
her neck.
With great
reticence I handed the whip back to Diane. Her two blows rained down on my poor
buttocks with even increased intensity, causing me to cry out and dance around
in a little jig as I tried to absorb the pain. But stubbornly I kept my hands
up.
Diane returned
the whip to me, before slowly assuming her position. I whipped her buttocks as
hard as I could, and before she had time to recover I quickly delivered the
second. She howled in pain and tears formed in her eyes. I felt terrible I was
inflicting so much pain on this beautiful creature, but I had no choice in the
matter.
When I passed the
whip back to Diane I could see she was getting desperate. Neither of us could
take much more. I grimaced, as I knew the next two strikes were really going to
hurt. And they did! Both blows were harder than any of the previous four. The
first strike made my knees wobble, and when the second connected I fell to my
knees in pain, tears streaming down my face. By some miracle I managed to
maintain my balance and keep my hands behind my head.
I struggled to my
feet again. I knew I could take no more punishment. I desperately needed to
break Diane this time, or I was a goner.
I turned to Mark.
“Please, sir,” I snivelled. ”Can I ask a question?”
“Like what?” Mark
was clearly ecstatic at the success of his little game.
“Can we only whip
each other on the buttocks?”
Mark thought
about it for a second. “I didn’t say it had to be on the buttocks,” he smiled.
Diane stared at
me with a miserable look on her face, but I had to be strong. I stood in front
of her, holding the whip menacingly in front of her face.
“Push you elbows
back, “ I directed Diane. For a moment she hesitated, then arched her shoulders
and thrust her elbows backwards. This pushed her firm, small breasts invitingly
forward towards me. I noticed her nipples were hard and erect, although I did
not know whether this was from fear or arousal.
I stepped back,
held the whip high, and brought it down viciously across both breasts. She
backed away and screamed, but before she had time to recover I struck her a
second time, catching her right on top of her nipples. The pain was more than
she could bare and she grasped her breasts with her hands and rubbed them
vigorously, her eyes clouded with tears. She had lost the game, and I felt
sorry for her. But I had to admit to myself I also felt relieved. My body was
also on fire, but I knew it was not solely from the whipping I had received. I
was incredibly stimulated, and knew my labia were swollen and wet.
Mark turned his
attention to Diane. “ What do you know. Fat and lazy wins out over plain old
laziness. That is a surprise.” Mark pointed to the garage floor. “Get down on
all fours like a little doggie, and open your legs.”
Still fighting
back the tears, Diane obeyed, getting down on her hands and knees, and then
opening her legs. I had an unobstructed view of her vagina and anus and it was
breathtaking. I could also clearly see that she, like me, was aroused. Mark
stepped behind her, and using an underarm swing brought the whip up firmly onto
her labia. Diane’s hips jumped in the air, and she moaned with the pain.
“Stick your arse
out,” Mark commanded, before continuing the punishment.
Somehow Diane
managed to take all six strikes of the whip on her pussy. By the time he
finished she had her head resting on her forearm, and was sobbing
uncontrollably. Her vagina was bright red and looked tender. Mark knelt down,
and for a moment I thought he was going to comfort her. But instead he unzipped
his fly and pulled out his penis. He stroked himself a couple of times until he
was rock hard, then rammed himself into Diane’s inflamed pussy. Despite the
discomfort she must have felt from the intrusion she arched her back so as to
give him better access.
I was so aroused
by everything I was in danger of losing self-control. I was by now so wet my
juices were running down the insides of my thighs. I reached down and took hold
of my engorged clit, pinching it, and pulling it out like a tiny penis. The
sensation sent even more spasms of pleasure cascading through me, and I had to
back off as I was in danger of orgasming.
Diane came hard,
and very quickly. Her groans of pain had quickly turned to ones of pleasure.
Mark withdrew his penis, and clearly had not come. His erection bobbed around
in the air. He beckoned for me to get down on my knees, and I quickly obeyed.
He roughly grabbed the back of my head and thrust it down on his penis. It was
amazing as I was actually getting the opportunity to suck Diane’s juices off
his penis. It was pure bliss. Just before he was ready to come he turned me
around, pushed my head to the ground, and roughly thrust himself deep into my
vagina. I immediately came like a wild animal, my hips thrusting back and
forward in a blur.