Journey of a Pain Slut The Prequel Her First Whipping
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Jennifer's Whipping free porn video
Bring her in."
The girl was led into the room by a woman dressed in a black bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. The woman led the girl by a chain attached to the collar padlocked around her slender neck. The girl was dressed as they'd instructed her, in white blouse, plaid skirt, white knee socks and black patent leather shoes. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and looked much younger than her nineteen years, partly due to her A-cup breasts that poked against the white blouse. As she entered, she instinctively shaded her eyes against the glare of the bright lights focused on her, and the woman immediately smacked her bare legs with the short cane she carried.
"Stay in the position until you are told otherwise!" The woman snapped. The girl's legs were burning where the cane had struck, and she wanted to rub them, but she knew better. This was not the first time the cane had cracked against her pale flesh. Obediently, she locked her fingers behind her head again, elbows pointing out, and followed the woman.
The woman stopped at a point directly in front of the row of chairs where the men watched. She then attached the chain to another chain that hung from the ceiling, out of the girl's reach, turned to the audience, and bowed.
"My lords," she said, "may I present Slave Jennifer." There were murmurs of approval.
Still holding the cane, the woman stood aside as the first man said, "Remove your blouse."
Jennifer stared at him in disbelief. "I--" she began, but the woman was there with the cane, slashing it across her legs again, the sudden pain making the girl jump.
"You were not told to speak," the woman said. "You were given an order by your master. Now remove your blouse."
With trembling hands, the girl unfastened each button, slowly, hesitantly. When the woman showed her the cane, she quickened her movements, pulled the blouse out from where it was tucked into the skirt, and dropped it to the floor, leaving her top bare except for a white bra. Already she could feel her skin puckering from the chilly room, and her nipples pressed against the bra cups.
"Very nice," the man said. "Now the skirt. Quickly."
When Jennifer did not move quickly enough, the woman cracked the cane across her bare shoulders, forcing a cry from her lips. Her hands dropped to the waistline of the skirt, unbuttoning, unzipping, and the skirt fell to the floor, revealing white string bikini panties that barely covered her front and back.
"The position," the man said. "Assume the position and turn slowly around."
Now there were more murmurs. The panties seemed transparent, and she felt her face grow hot under the men's scrutiny.
"Now the bra," the man said. "And the panties."
Jennifer gasped and clasped her arms over her breasts, which brought another crack of the cane, this time against her bottom. The thin panties were little protection against the rattan cane, and she cried out again. The woman struck her a second time, across the front of her thighs, and she knew there was no disobeying. Shaking all over, she unhooked the bra, holding it briefly in front of her breasts for a final, desperate second, until she saw the woman raise the cane again, whereupon she allowed it to drop, revealing her underdeveloped breasts and her nipples the color and shape of fresh strawberries. Then she hooked her thumbs into the elastic waistband of the panties, hesitating again, which brought yet another whack. Quickly she let the panties fall, then tried to cover herself, conscious of the men's eyes.
"Stupid slut!" the woman shouted, and struck her twice more, harder than before. "Don't you dare cover yourself! Put your hands behind your head and spread your legs for your master!"
She obeyed, revealing her fully naked flesh before the men. Her nipples had hardened slightly, and with her hands behind her head, her breasts thrust forward. Her breasts themselves were whiter than the rest of her torso, which held a soft, golden tan from days at the beach. Below her waist, the tan lines outlined her cunt and her bottom, with only the barest stripe connecting. Her cunt was round and plump as a fresh peach, with only a short covering of blonde down.
She felt ashamed and embarrassed as they examined her, every eye in the room taking her in. Yet at the same time, she felt a stirring in her cunt, the way she did when she wanted to play with herself. It was exciting, somehow, to be admired by all these men.
"Look at those titties," she heard someone say clearly. "They're just begging for some marks, aren't they?"
"I want to see what Gaston'll do with her pussy," remarked another. "And of course, there's that fine ass!"
"What is this?" the first man demanded. "She was to be shaved fully. Number One, what has happened here?"
The woman in the black underwear lowered her head. "It is my omission, my lord," she said. "I should have checked first."
The man grunted assent. "Yes, you should. Report to Gaston afterward for fifty strokes for your omission. And now prepare her properly."
The woman took Jennifer's left wrist and shackled it to one end of a bar that had been lowered from the ceiling, then did the same with her right wrist. She shackled Jennifer's ankles to a similar bar, then rose, pressed her lips to the girl's ear and whispered, "And when they're through with you, darling, it will be my turn! Get ME fifty lashes, will you? I shall have my revenge for that!" Her tongue snaked out and licked the girl's ear, which made Jennifer tingle more with excitement.
Number One took departed into the shadows for a moment, then returned with a straight razor. As she knelt before the spreadeagled Jennifer, she said, "I should not move if I were you. I would not want to cut your tender flesh."
Jennifer froze. She felt the razor scr****g over the hair below her belly. Then she gasped as the woman stuck two fingers into her cunt and manipulated her cunt lips to get better access to the hair that grew on the sides of Jennifer's cunt. As she did this, the woman remarked, "Hmmm, you're quite wet already. Perhaps you won't find this as unpleasant an experience as you think, hmmm?" The woman slid her fingers in and out of Jennifer's cunt, and the girl felt her clit hardening, begging for more. Number One must have felt it too, for she gave the girl's clit a few more strokes with her finger.
At last the shaving stopped. Number One stood and admired her work. Jennifer tried to see, but could not, yet she trembled in her shackles, half excited, half ashamed for feeling so excited. "A beautiful cunt!" said one of the men watching, and there were more murmurs of agreement and remarks that brought a blush to Jennifer's face.
The first man clapped his hands twice and the biggest man Jennifer had ever seen emerged from the shadows, a whip coiled around his shoulder. He bowed to the assembled men, grinned at the bound Jennifer, who now began to struggle against her bonds, and walked around behind her. "At your command, my lord," he said.
"You may begin," the man said.
Jennifer heard the rush of air, then pain exploded against her bare back, pain such as she had never felt in her life. The whip wrapped around her exposed body like a snake, leaving a wicked welt where it had struck. Before she could as much as cry out, another blow landed, this one across her bottom. She screamed, and began to wriggle faster, harder, even as the next blow fell across her shoulders, and the next wrapped around her waist. Gaston lashed her again and again, waiting just long enough between strokes for her to feel the agony of each strike. The lash took up a rhythm, a life of its own, criscrossing her back and bottom and legs with raw red stripes. She screamed until her voice gave out, but with each stroke of the lash, her excitement grew, along with the pain, until her cunt juice was running down her legs.
"Look at the little bitch," said the woman called Number One. "She likes it. See how she sticks her ass out for more. She's going to come any minute." There was general laughter from the audience. "This one will provide us many hours of fun."
But just when Jennifer thought she would explode with pleasure, the whipping stopped. She hung in her bonds, panting with exhaustion and unfulfilled desire. The man in charge said, "Turn her. Let's see your work, Gaston."
Gaston's rough hands sc****d the raw wounds on Jennifer's body as he turned the girl around for the men to examine. "Outstanding," she heard one man say, while another added, "It's your usual work of art, Gaston."
Only then did the man in charge emerge from the shadows. He wore a robe and cowl like those of a monk, shadowing his face from her. "Imagine how it would have been had we used a real leather whip," he said softly. Jennifer trembled, the unfulfilled orgasm demanding release that would not come to her. "Now you've begun to learn your purpose in life, slave. And we will make sure you remember it."
"I—I'll remember, mas—master," she gasped as the man turned away. She found herself hoping he would begin the whipping again. In response, the man said, "Leave her there, Gaston. When she catches her breath, we'll begin lesson two."
The girl was led into the room by a woman dressed in a black bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. The woman led the girl by a chain attached to the collar padlocked around her slender neck. The girl was dressed as they'd instructed her, in white blouse, plaid skirt, white knee socks and black patent leather shoes. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and looked much younger than her nineteen years, partly due to her A-cup breasts that poked against the white blouse. As she entered, she instinctively shaded her eyes against the glare of the bright lights focused on her, and the woman immediately smacked her bare legs with the short cane she carried.
"Stay in the position until you are told otherwise!" The woman snapped. The girl's legs were burning where the cane had struck, and she wanted to rub them, but she knew better. This was not the first time the cane had cracked against her pale flesh. Obediently, she locked her fingers behind her head again, elbows pointing out, and followed the woman.
The woman stopped at a point directly in front of the row of chairs where the men watched. She then attached the chain to another chain that hung from the ceiling, out of the girl's reach, turned to the audience, and bowed.
"My lords," she said, "may I present Slave Jennifer." There were murmurs of approval.
Still holding the cane, the woman stood aside as the first man said, "Remove your blouse."
Jennifer stared at him in disbelief. "I--" she began, but the woman was there with the cane, slashing it across her legs again, the sudden pain making the girl jump.
"You were not told to speak," the woman said. "You were given an order by your master. Now remove your blouse."
With trembling hands, the girl unfastened each button, slowly, hesitantly. When the woman showed her the cane, she quickened her movements, pulled the blouse out from where it was tucked into the skirt, and dropped it to the floor, leaving her top bare except for a white bra. Already she could feel her skin puckering from the chilly room, and her nipples pressed against the bra cups.
"Very nice," the man said. "Now the skirt. Quickly."
When Jennifer did not move quickly enough, the woman cracked the cane across her bare shoulders, forcing a cry from her lips. Her hands dropped to the waistline of the skirt, unbuttoning, unzipping, and the skirt fell to the floor, revealing white string bikini panties that barely covered her front and back.
"The position," the man said. "Assume the position and turn slowly around."
Now there were more murmurs. The panties seemed transparent, and she felt her face grow hot under the men's scrutiny.
"Now the bra," the man said. "And the panties."
Jennifer gasped and clasped her arms over her breasts, which brought another crack of the cane, this time against her bottom. The thin panties were little protection against the rattan cane, and she cried out again. The woman struck her a second time, across the front of her thighs, and she knew there was no disobeying. Shaking all over, she unhooked the bra, holding it briefly in front of her breasts for a final, desperate second, until she saw the woman raise the cane again, whereupon she allowed it to drop, revealing her underdeveloped breasts and her nipples the color and shape of fresh strawberries. Then she hooked her thumbs into the elastic waistband of the panties, hesitating again, which brought yet another whack. Quickly she let the panties fall, then tried to cover herself, conscious of the men's eyes.
"Stupid slut!" the woman shouted, and struck her twice more, harder than before. "Don't you dare cover yourself! Put your hands behind your head and spread your legs for your master!"
She obeyed, revealing her fully naked flesh before the men. Her nipples had hardened slightly, and with her hands behind her head, her breasts thrust forward. Her breasts themselves were whiter than the rest of her torso, which held a soft, golden tan from days at the beach. Below her waist, the tan lines outlined her cunt and her bottom, with only the barest stripe connecting. Her cunt was round and plump as a fresh peach, with only a short covering of blonde down.
She felt ashamed and embarrassed as they examined her, every eye in the room taking her in. Yet at the same time, she felt a stirring in her cunt, the way she did when she wanted to play with herself. It was exciting, somehow, to be admired by all these men.
"Look at those titties," she heard someone say clearly. "They're just begging for some marks, aren't they?"
"I want to see what Gaston'll do with her pussy," remarked another. "And of course, there's that fine ass!"
"What is this?" the first man demanded. "She was to be shaved fully. Number One, what has happened here?"
The woman in the black underwear lowered her head. "It is my omission, my lord," she said. "I should have checked first."
The man grunted assent. "Yes, you should. Report to Gaston afterward for fifty strokes for your omission. And now prepare her properly."
The woman took Jennifer's left wrist and shackled it to one end of a bar that had been lowered from the ceiling, then did the same with her right wrist. She shackled Jennifer's ankles to a similar bar, then rose, pressed her lips to the girl's ear and whispered, "And when they're through with you, darling, it will be my turn! Get ME fifty lashes, will you? I shall have my revenge for that!" Her tongue snaked out and licked the girl's ear, which made Jennifer tingle more with excitement.
Number One took departed into the shadows for a moment, then returned with a straight razor. As she knelt before the spreadeagled Jennifer, she said, "I should not move if I were you. I would not want to cut your tender flesh."
Jennifer froze. She felt the razor scr****g over the hair below her belly. Then she gasped as the woman stuck two fingers into her cunt and manipulated her cunt lips to get better access to the hair that grew on the sides of Jennifer's cunt. As she did this, the woman remarked, "Hmmm, you're quite wet already. Perhaps you won't find this as unpleasant an experience as you think, hmmm?" The woman slid her fingers in and out of Jennifer's cunt, and the girl felt her clit hardening, begging for more. Number One must have felt it too, for she gave the girl's clit a few more strokes with her finger.
At last the shaving stopped. Number One stood and admired her work. Jennifer tried to see, but could not, yet she trembled in her shackles, half excited, half ashamed for feeling so excited. "A beautiful cunt!" said one of the men watching, and there were more murmurs of agreement and remarks that brought a blush to Jennifer's face.
The first man clapped his hands twice and the biggest man Jennifer had ever seen emerged from the shadows, a whip coiled around his shoulder. He bowed to the assembled men, grinned at the bound Jennifer, who now began to struggle against her bonds, and walked around behind her. "At your command, my lord," he said.
"You may begin," the man said.
Jennifer heard the rush of air, then pain exploded against her bare back, pain such as she had never felt in her life. The whip wrapped around her exposed body like a snake, leaving a wicked welt where it had struck. Before she could as much as cry out, another blow landed, this one across her bottom. She screamed, and began to wriggle faster, harder, even as the next blow fell across her shoulders, and the next wrapped around her waist. Gaston lashed her again and again, waiting just long enough between strokes for her to feel the agony of each strike. The lash took up a rhythm, a life of its own, criscrossing her back and bottom and legs with raw red stripes. She screamed until her voice gave out, but with each stroke of the lash, her excitement grew, along with the pain, until her cunt juice was running down her legs.
"Look at the little bitch," said the woman called Number One. "She likes it. See how she sticks her ass out for more. She's going to come any minute." There was general laughter from the audience. "This one will provide us many hours of fun."
But just when Jennifer thought she would explode with pleasure, the whipping stopped. She hung in her bonds, panting with exhaustion and unfulfilled desire. The man in charge said, "Turn her. Let's see your work, Gaston."
Gaston's rough hands sc****d the raw wounds on Jennifer's body as he turned the girl around for the men to examine. "Outstanding," she heard one man say, while another added, "It's your usual work of art, Gaston."
Only then did the man in charge emerge from the shadows. He wore a robe and cowl like those of a monk, shadowing his face from her. "Imagine how it would have been had we used a real leather whip," he said softly. Jennifer trembled, the unfulfilled orgasm demanding release that would not come to her. "Now you've begun to learn your purpose in life, slave. And we will make sure you remember it."
"I—I'll remember, mas—master," she gasped as the man turned away. She found herself hoping he would begin the whipping again. In response, the man said, "Leave her there, Gaston. When she catches her breath, we'll begin lesson two."
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- 08.02.2023
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