A tiny bead of sweat forms and meanders down her cheek till it forms a perfect droplet on the end of her chin. Mingled with the tears and the snot covering her pained face. One word forms and comes flying out in what one can only describe as fire. “Fucker!” He muses and with a sly grin brings the cane down hard again on her reddened ass. A gasp escapes from her lips and a gutteral moan. Fifty strokes. Fifty bastard strokes she had accumulated. She really shouldn’t take on his challenges, she muses.

“What was that my dear?” his voice stern, eyes stern glaring straight into hers, his face only a fraction away from hers. His hand reaching for the clover clamps fastened tightly on her now purple tipped nipples. A quick tug and he watches as her eyes glaze over and she struggles to contain herself. “Anymore potty mouth remarks from you young lady are going to result in more strokes of this cane on your ass”. The cane being dragged across her raw skin. She struggles against the restraints holding her securely against the wooden frame.

Her mind racing frantically, how many had he given her? Almost lost in thoughts she is yanked back to reality from yet another sharp sting of the cane. This time right between her legs. Body betraying her, legs slam shut, knees together she writhes against the fresh onslaught of pain, groaning. Anger wellling. “What the fuck?! Owww that fucking hurt you bastard!”

He chuckles. He loves it when she gets all riled up. The spit flys, the whites in her eyes, the flared nostrils. If he untied her at this very moment he would be in mortal danger from her wrath. Restraints were always a given with this feisty minx. He slides his hand between her legs only to discover that his loving strokes and welts have created nothing but a wanton hussy, dripping, responsive to his touch. A pride swells. His little fucktoy. His whore. His girl. His cock is impatient, it needs sating. 15 more strokes to go. He cocks his head to the side and watches her. Panting and breathing hard, her hips move to meet his hand. He slaps her reddened cheeks with the other hand and watches her ass rise. She’s ready, anymore ready and he thinks she’ll try impaling herself on his cock with none of his guidance.

“Is my pretty whore hungry for me hmmm?”

“fuck me … please…please” her breathing is laboured. The movement from his fingers, poking, pinching, rubbing her into a frenzy. Her hips now frantically rocking back to find some relief. She feels empty, she needs him.

“Please what girl?”

“Please fuck me Sir”

He smiles. He knows how difficult it is for her to beg, to use her manners and to ask for what she wants. But he isn’t going to make it easy for her. He wants her to beg like she means it and not say it just because she knows she’ll get what she wants. So instead he leans over and grabs the two things he’s decided to drive her to the brink with. She’s so distracted she doesn’t notice. A yelp flys from her mouth as a cold steel butt plug glides into her ass and a vibrating dildo is subsequently pushed in her other hole. A ball gag is roughly pushed into her mouth and a blindfold wrapped around her head. He checks everything and gives the chain from the clamps a few random tugs. He rubs her clit hard until her groans tell him shes close. And then he stops.

“Nope I think I’ll watch you come all over this dildo, but first things first. Let’s finish this caning shall we… oh and no coming till I tell you … there’s an extra 5 strokes per orgasm you have without permission.”

Her eyes widen. He can hear the protests from behind the gag. The cane lands hard joining the patterned stripes that make her white ass welt so beautifully. Then watches her eyes glaze over as she succumbs to her fate…