A Severe Breast Whipping
Via Bondage Blog, we have this eye-watering breast whipping scene from the dark BDSM romance novel Prima by Carolyn Faulkner:
Before he got too involved, he took a piece of slim rope and put it through the holes at the end of the clothespins, lacing them together and pulling them towards each other. Ahhhhhh. Another groan of misery. Music to his ears. Then he tied the whole contraption to an eyehook on the pole, lifting and suspending her breasts by the clamps on her nipples while she whimpered and cried.
In the spirit of starting easily, Joseph looked down at the tray of tools and selected a slim plastic rod that looked very much like a conductor’s baton. Tying her titties back allowed him unrestricted access to a very neglected area of her breasts – the tender undersides. This was where he began to strike – short, sharp snaps of his wrist that left thinnish weals, reminding him of the pattern the switch had made on her bottom. Ignoring all of the useless sounds emanating from behind her headgear, he lost himself in whipping that magnificent pair with total abandon until the shy, vulnerable area was alive with red and pink trails. On occasion, he had missed his intended target and snapped the rod down onto a clothespin, or even once the bit of nipple flesh just beneath the jaws of the clamp, making his woman keen again as loudly as she could, tears splashing down from her chin to wet those ripe, hanging melons.
By the time he finished, the undersides of both titties were alive with angry red lines, looking very sore and swollen. Joseph was extremely satisfied with his work. He put the baton down, and retied the rope that had been tied high on the pole. Instead, he pulled the rope that was still laced through the end of the clothespins down, forcing her nipples to point downwards as he threaded the rope between her pussy lips, making very sure that there was a rough piece of rope on either side of her already engorged clitty, then down over the entrance to her cunt, and then up in back over her little flowered hole, to be tied off very tautly to the pole.
Now every time Prima moved, the rope rubbed against both sides of the nub between her legs. She was mortified! And with the way he wielded that thin stick, there was no way in hell that she wouldn’t try to move somehow.
Joseph sighed contentedly as he once again stood in front of Prima, baton in hand. “You are very, very wet, my girl. One would think that, despite all your moans and groans and screams and tears, that you enjoyed this.” He had put the baton under his arm to hold it and was busily twisting the clothespins in place. “You can wail all you like, Katherine . . . well, as much as your head harness will allow. No one will help you. No one is going to save you from this. And as much as it’s going to hurt you – and it will hurt a lot – you’re pussy’s gonna end up drenched as usual and ready to be fucked by me, your owner. Which is how it should be. For a virgin, I got myself quite a hot slut.”
He brought the stick down smartly on the tops of both breasts at once, then set about searing each one individually for a while, occasionally bringing the unforgiving rod down on top of each clothespin. Joseph laid into her breasts with a vengeance, smacking them until their swollen skin was fit to burst with the mass of flaming welts he’d created. Throwing the baton aside, he untied the rope that held pulled the clamps down and threw it to one side, grasped a breast roughly in each hand, crushing them and pressing them together, rubbing the marks he’d caused over the last half hour, jiggling those tortured little berries of hers good and hard. He was about ready to explode without even having touched himself.
See Also:
