Severe Session - Sex Stories

Severe Session

... twirling the riding crop between her fingers. “Your back is already quite red, but I think your buttocks are still too white. This will do them a world of good.”

With a sadistic smile, she comes up behind me and starts flogging me again.

I flinch under the blows, while Virginie takes great pleasure in zapping my hindquarters with the utmost application. She carefully alternates between the left and right buttocks, always hitting horizontally, working her way down to mid-thigh and then back up again.

She goes back and forth several times, making me scream and dance at a steady pace.

When she finally stops, my buttocks and thighs are on fire. My throat is dry from too much screaming and I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Your bottom is a beautiful shade of pink," she comments. “I imagine they must be quite warm, right?”

“Yes, mistress.”

The words struggle to pass my lips and she laughs.

“I've got something to soothe them," she says.

I hear her moving behind me, then feel her lips against my bruised flesh. She places a few gentle kisses, making me moan with pleasure.

“Thank you, mistress, that feels good.”

“I know. It's your reward for putting up with your beating.”

She puts the whip on the table and comes back with a pair of pliers.

“Now the pain begins," she announces.

Delicately, she kisses my nipples, slowly running her tongue around them, and nibbling them with the tip of her teeth, until they harden. When they're ...

... sufficiently erect for her liking, she applies a little saliva to them, and approaches the clamps.

To her delight, the steel jaws close cruelly on the delicate flesh. When they're securely in place, she links them together with a small chain. Then she slips a dog collar around my neck and attaches the chain to the ring usually provided for the leash.

The moment the hook closes, I feel as if my chest is being ripped off. The clamps bite cruelly into my flesh, while the tension of the chain turns my distended nipples upwards.

Virginie gazes at me with satisfaction, while pain twists the features of my face.

“It's a good start," she says. “But I promise you'll scream.”

She disappears from my field of vision and returns, armed with a flogger. She turns the instrument in front of my eyes, so that I can see it clearly. Short-handled, it has five long leather straps. Hard and very thin, each ends in a tight knot, to inflict maximum pain.

Looking me straight in the eye, she raises her arm and strikes.

Flames run over and under my skin. The pain is unbearable. My scream echoes through the room.

Facing me, Virginie smiles as her arm whizzes back and forth.

The straps slam across my chest, their course crossing the steel clamps. The leather knots scratch my skin, cut into my flesh.

The leather nips at my sides, my belly, carefully avoiding my sex. The burning bite reddens my skin and I can feel the fire running under my chest and into my insides.

Finally, two ...