Cunt Whipping
“Spread your legs, bitch. Farther apart.” He pushes my knees even further apart than I thought possible. He tugs at my cunt lips, runs his fingers over my clit, and plays with it a moment before slapping it hard. I was about to see where my misdeed of masturbating without explicit permission would get me. It had been weeks since my confession, and I thought he’d forgotten. Not.
He removes his belt from his pants. There cannot possibly be any greater sight or sound than a man ripping his belt out of the loops with every intention of using it in ways not truly intended. I was acutely aware that every ounce of pleasure I had given myself was about to be negated by that belt.
In an instant, my cunt was on fire. He whipped it relentlessly. Sometimes landing directly over my clit, and other times landing on the most sensitive spot inside my thighs, I could barely catch my breath. He maneuvered so that the belt landed perfectly across my entire cunt. He stopped after 10.
“So what do you think now, cunt?” “I’m sorry, Sir, I am truly sorry.” Tears have welled in my eyes. “Not as sorry as you’ll be half an hour from now…”. He doubles the belt in his hand and raises his arm. Again, again, again. I beg him to stop between my sobs. I am not restrained, but I lay perfectly still and accept this. He stops only momentarily and asks if it was worth it. No.
Not only was the pleasure not worth the punishment, but having to watch his face as he whipped me in my most private area was excruciating. The humiliation factor made it far worse. To lay on my back and watch a man I respect whipping my cunt was truly humiliating. My tears added to the layers of embarrassment and shame.
My cunt aches, burns, stings, throbs. He finishes by fucking me roughly. I know what he is saying here. He does not have to speak a word. He cums in my burning cunt. He got the last word.
He removes his belt from his pants. There cannot possibly be any greater sight or sound than a man ripping his belt out of the loops with every intention of using it in ways not truly intended. I was acutely aware that every ounce of pleasure I had given myself was about to be negated by that belt.
In an instant, my cunt was on fire. He whipped it relentlessly. Sometimes landing directly over my clit, and other times landing on the most sensitive spot inside my thighs, I could barely catch my breath. He maneuvered so that the belt landed perfectly across my entire cunt. He stopped after 10.
“So what do you think now, cunt?” “I’m sorry, Sir, I am truly sorry.” Tears have welled in my eyes. “Not as sorry as you’ll be half an hour from now…”. He doubles the belt in his hand and raises his arm. Again, again, again. I beg him to stop between my sobs. I am not restrained, but I lay perfectly still and accept this. He stops only momentarily and asks if it was worth it. No.
Not only was the pleasure not worth the punishment, but having to watch his face as he whipped me in my most private area was excruciating. The humiliation factor made it far worse. To lay on my back and watch a man I respect whipping my cunt was truly humiliating. My tears added to the layers of embarrassment and shame.
My cunt aches, burns, stings, throbs. He finishes by fucking me roughly. I know what he is saying here. He does not have to speak a word. He cums in my burning cunt. He got the last word.
15年前
