Severe Session - Sex Stories

Severe Session

... precise blows rip the clamps off, releasing my nipples with an eardrum-shattering scream.

I'm out of breath, my chest on fire and blood pounding at my temples. My body is nothing but pain. I pull at my bonds, moaning, my eyes red with tears.

Virginie is ecstatic.

As I recover, she puts away the chain and clamps, and goes off to find a new object of torture.

“Do you know what it is?" she asks, returning with a bunch of branches tied together.

I shake my head. It tells me nothing.

“N-No, mistress.”

“Really? On the one hand, I'm not surprised. It's called a birch. As the name suggests, it's English in origin. It was widely used in Victorian times. Normally, it's the person being punished who has to make it. But in your case, I made an exception. I designed it myself. Look how beautiful it is.”

She presents it to me. It's made up of a dozen fine branches, carefully stripped of their leaves, and securely tied together with a thin rope.

“In principle," she continues, "the person being punished had to present the birch to his executioner. The executioner would then inflict four series of six blows. More, depending on the offence committed.”

She pauses, her eyes riveted to mine.

“Tonight, you'll receive just one round...on the sex," she says.

At these words, I start to shiver, and feel a cold sweat run down my spine.

“Ready?”

“Y-Yes, Mistress...”

“Then suffer!" she exclaims.

Her arm unclenches with a jerk and the branches come ...

... crashing down on my erect member. A million volts shoot through my body. As if my sex had just been plugged into a high-voltage socket. My blood is boiling, I'm twisting in all directions, but I can't dodge the blows. The pain is driving me crazy.

The birch continues to whistle. Three times. Four times. Five times. Six times.

The explosion. My taut sex rears up and a long spurt of semen spurts from the reddened knob. My moans of pleasure mingle with my cries of pain. Exhausted, gasping for breath, I remain inert in my bonds, my head bowed and my eyes haggard.

Virginie undoes my cuffs and I fall to the ground, unable to stand on my legs any longer.

“You've had your fun, but the evening's far from over.”

Tying a leash to my collar, she drags me over to the coffee table. There, she makes me lie on my back, buttocks flush with the table, arms hanging down, legs raised. She then ties my wrists to the table legs, and my ankles to two ropes hanging from the beam.

“All this has made me hot," she simmers. “And it's only fair that you thank your mistress for the pleasure she's given you. Isn't that right?”

“Yes, mistress. As you wish, mistress.”

Virginie approaches me, her crotch level with my face, her sex facing my eyes. Her delicate dark lips peek out from under her perfectly shaved Venus mount.

Straddling me, she slowly lowers her pelvis until her sex is in contact with my mouth.

“Lick me, make me come," she orders.

Immediately, my lips press against her ...