I walk back to the bed.The leather tip of the crop gently slaps the back of your thigh; each stroke quick, light and persistent. Slap, slap, slap, sla..., six or seven strokes in quick succession. That has got your attention. I stop for what must seem to you like an age and then we I think you are least expecting it I bring the crop down hard across your buttocks. You scream out, as much from surprise as the stinging pain but the crop has left a bright red mark across each milky smooth buttock. I. Finally she collapses, sagging against the manacles, moaning low and huskily, the panties thrumming slowly as they draw out every last spasm, every aftershock. “M-Master,” she whispers lovingly.“I hope you saved some more for later.”She smiles mischievously. “Of course, Master.”“Good. Let's get you dressed, hm?” He drops her unceremoniously to dangle from the manacles, and she quickly hops up onto her toes and grips the chains with both hands, watching hungrily. He walks to the briefcase. More

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