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tanuno
Well-known member
[berseh] 
The Novice 19/20/21/22/23/24/25
The Novice 19/20/21/22/23/24/25| W-What happened? I know I've been walking -stumbling more exactly- like a mindless thing for some time.. It's only now that the fog in my mind.. dissipates. How come? The pain? The.. Defeat? The venerable witches taught me their magic. I learned everything. I produced many balls of thunder. I threw them at him, and yet.. It can't be real.. He should have been dumped back to the demon limbo, deep down the cavern where the witches curses keep them locked underground.. How could it end like this? How? | And now.. Now what? I couldn't believe it when I woke up.. Bound? He put ropes on me? To realise he had torn my top, taken away my tiara.. What that meant of liberties he took.. ..And now? I'm all bruised... Exhausted What they say about Skatjahs.. Oh, almighty Goddess Tani, please come to my help! |
| "AYeeee! Arrghh! Ahh!" "Faster, animal! Enough dreaming! Move that body faster! We need to reach a good camping spot before night falls! I'm getting hungry and thirsty!" "Ayyee.. Please! Please, it hurts..I'm exhausted..*sobs*" "I can see some training is needed. We'll have to do some of it when we stop, so move your ass or you get more of the strikes!" *Ohh goddesses, goddesses.. I beg you..What does training mean..? * | *Oh Goddess.. Venerable witches.., Come to my rescue! He's already whipped me so many times with his magic flash .. It hurts like hell.. It's horrible. It burns, it - and it's like.. Monster... Like he just enjoys hurting me *sob*. *I'm so helpless now..So vulnerable. Me, a trained magician! I don't understand.. I have no strength left. All I know is I'm terrified he's going to hit me again.. He's goading me like I would be cattle.. W-what does he plan to do to me.. If only he let me rest.. Just rest!* |
| "Faster! I said to walk faster, cow! What is it you don't you understand when your master says he's hungry and needs to rest?" "AYeee! Stop! Ohh stop! Arrghh!" " Have some more of it!" "Nooo! I beg you! AHHH...It -- it hurst so much! Ss-stop!" "This again! Till you speed up and shake that body! Yesshh.. To tell the truth, I also like to see your contorsions, Shhh shhh! Take this again!" "Ohhh..Please..Please sir.." | *I can't.. I can't do it anymore.. Can't make a step forward.. It hurts so much.. I'm so weak.. Can't he understand its beyond my will?* "Are you defying me, stupid girl? Do I have to burn this ass?" "Please please sir.. I can't move .. I can't walk, please hear my plea! I beg you, don't whip me again, I just have no strength left, I-" "Shut up! How dare you talk back to your owner? You think you can't walk? You think you're going to influence me? You're just an animal to me! You're nothing! It's time I show you your place and.. Oh, wait..* he looks around* "Yes.. Yes, I see how to give you your first lesson, slave, shhhsshish!" |
| "Ohh you can't move? So you can't walk, bitch? No problem, I'll drag you like the rag you are!" "Yelp! W-What are you doing? Let me! Let me go you punk! Let me go please! My leg, Ayee, stop this! Stop this are you mad?" |
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] Poacher's Punishment
Poacher's Punishment| The beautiful poacher had to pay a dear price for her transgression: chained to the Wheel, naked on display for the townsfolk to see, she would be forced to endure two dozen turns, each full circle to be concluded by a savage blow from the Forester's Daughter, a heavy, nine-stranded whip made of deer hide, soaked in brine. |
| The beautiful poacher had to pay a dear price for her transgression: chained to the Wheel, she would be forced to endure two dozen turns, each full circle to be concluded by a savage blow from the Forester's Daughter, a heavy, nine-stranded whip made of deer hide, soaked in brine. | “Turn the Wheel,” the sheriff shouted from the balustrade, and the wheel was creakily set into motion when the henchman underneath the platform moved the lever. The kneeling posture, naked and bowed, was degrading enough, but being displayed like this from all sides was utterly humiliating, and the cheers and catcalls from the townsfolk cut her to the quick even before the first lash had fallen... |
| The executioner let the wheel complete two full turns, relishing the sight of the naked delinquent and increasing her tension, before he brought the whip down for the first time... |
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] The Kneeler
Before her captors had left her in the dungeon, the Nemedian warlord had assured her that no one had ever withstood the torture of "The Kneeler" for more than two turns of the glass. Having spent about half a turn on the hideous device, the Tarakian was more than ready to agree.
She could not say what was hardest to bear -- the bone-crushing pressure the hard wood exerted on her knees and elbows, the twinges the iron hook sent up her ass whenever she did as much as try to move her head, the strain the weights imposed on her breasts and nipples with every labored breath, or the heat radiating from the brazier underneath the rack. However, she would not be able to endure the combination of these torments much longer, and was determined to tell the Nemedians everything she knew about the hostile lines. She could only hope that they returned soon, and would believe that she didn't know more, and then release her from this ordeal, instead of adding the whip, or worse, upon her tortures, to extract information she did not have...
The KneelerBefore her captors had left her in the dungeon, the Nemedian warlord had assured her that no one had ever withstood the torture of "The Kneeler" for more than two turns of the glass. Having spent about half a turn on the hideous device, the Tarakian was more than ready to agree.
She could not say what was hardest to bear -- the bone-crushing pressure the hard wood exerted on her knees and elbows, the twinges the iron hook sent up her ass whenever she did as much as try to move her head, the strain the weights imposed on her breasts and nipples with every labored breath, or the heat radiating from the brazier underneath the rack. However, she would not be able to endure the combination of these torments much longer, and was determined to tell the Nemedians everything she knew about the hostile lines. She could only hope that they returned soon, and would believe that she didn't know more, and then release her from this ordeal, instead of adding the whip, or worse, upon her tortures, to extract information she did not have...
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] Wheel of Throes
"How are you holding up, Tarakian," Yasmala sneered. "Ready for another turn of the glass?"
But Taleena could all but glare at the Khorajan queen, panting heavily from prior exertions. She had lost count of how many turns of the glass she had already endured since they had strapped her on the rack, and she knew that they would keep tormenting her regardless of her reply, so she said nothing. Her silence earned her a savage blow of Yasmala's crop, and when she strained against her chains, this involuntary reaction pulled the iron hook her jailors had inserted in her ass deeper inside her, eliciting a deep groan.
Yasmala smiled wickedly at Taleena's struggles. "Turn the glass," she instructed the jailor, "and spin the wheel with a will for a change, no respite until the time is up."
Wheel of Throes"How are you holding up, Tarakian," Yasmala sneered. "Ready for another turn of the glass?"
But Taleena could all but glare at the Khorajan queen, panting heavily from prior exertions. She had lost count of how many turns of the glass she had already endured since they had strapped her on the rack, and she knew that they would keep tormenting her regardless of her reply, so she said nothing. Her silence earned her a savage blow of Yasmala's crop, and when she strained against her chains, this involuntary reaction pulled the iron hook her jailors had inserted in her ass deeper inside her, eliciting a deep groan.
Yasmala smiled wickedly at Taleena's struggles. "Turn the glass," she instructed the jailor, "and spin the wheel with a will for a change, no respite until the time is up."
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] Birthday Beating (Room/Arrival)
It was a crisp February day in Eastern Montana, but the Chinook wind took the chilling bite off the cold. Inside Yellowstone Ranch, young Josephine "Joey" MacDonald sat on the edge of her bed with considerable trepidation. The tawny-haired beauty had a frown of apprehension on her pretty face as her pale blue eyes alternated between the longcase clock and the closed door of her room. She had donned leather chaps and panties, no pants, cowboy boots, and a heavy woolen men’s shirt that stretched across her ample bosom, and for all appearances, if not for the missing pants, the young woman looked ready for a winterly ride into the nearby valley.
However, Ross MacDonald's daughter and only offspring did not have a pleasant day awaiting her, even though it was her birthday. Outside the ranch house, over at the stables, the members of the ranch household were already gathering; for at exactly 3 p.m., the hour of her birth, she would be led outside, stripped naked before the eyes of the ranch folk, and given twenty lashes with her father’s riding crop — one for each year of her age — across her bare bottom.
Since her fourteenth year the lovely young lass had been enduring this painful rite of passage. The girl's mother had passed away that year, and Ross MacDonald, last of the Glasgow cattle baron dynasty, exasperated that his wife had not born him a son, vowed that his only heir would dearly earn the property that would be bequeathed to her when she became of age. Thus under the stern tutelage of her father, and with many a stroke of the rod for any shortcomings, Joey, as everyone at the Yellowstone Ranch kept calling her, developed into one of the top horseback riders in all of Montana. The birthday whippings were one of the trials imposed by her father to test her resolve and fortitude, and they would continue until she reached the age of twenty-one.
Three ranch hands were selected to administer the birthday beating, and at the rancher’s decree, the man causing his daughter to flinch and break pose during her chastisement would be awarded a week’s pay for his efforts. As for the young heiress of the Yellowstone ranch, she would then be tied for the remaining strokes of her sentence, after which her father himself would deliver an additional punishment of twice the number of lashes that were remaining from her original count at the time she had flinched. He would use a single-thonged horse whip on her back for that, and pitiable Joey would have to count the lashes of this extra supplement herself…
A respectful tapping at the door told Joey that the time of her ordeal was near. She rose from her bed and straightened her shoulders when she walked to the door to let in the housekeeper who would lead her over to the stables. Maude was old enough to be Joey’s grandmother, and had been with the MacDonald family for decades; she had tended to Joey's wounds after each birthday beating, and seemed as ill at ease with the unfolding event as her young charge.
"Are you ready, Josephine?" Maude asked softy, using Joey’s full name as she always did, and Joey inclined her head in reply and smiled wanly.
Maude then stepped aside to let Joey pass, and fell in step behind her as they proceeded down the pathway to the stables.
An expectant hush descended upon the gathering of onlookers when the two women approached the stables, where the girl's father was waiting, too, along with the three men he had chosen to carry out this year’s birthday beating.
The onlookers viewed this annual dressing down of the cattle baron’s daughter with a variety of emotions. Many of the household staff had watched Joey grow from a child into a beautiful young woman, and while some regarded the whipping of the girl with shocked indignation, others viewed the painful degradation of the future owner of the ranch with glee and a sense of perverse vindication. However, and despite the divers sentiments, no one would miss the event, and the married women whose husbands attended the whipping were said to benefit from the obscene spectacle when they retired to their beds with their aroused spouses.
Joey glanced briefly at her father’s stony face, then down at the black, menacing crop which he flexed in his hands. The leather-wrapped rod, with its fiendishly-stinging, braided and waxed trainer was a fearsome instrument, rather made to be applied to the coarse hide of a horse than the soft skin of a woman. Joey vividly remembered an occurrence, years before her first birthday thrashing, when she had witnessed some stablehands taking practice swings at stacked grain bags in the barn, striving to lend maximum momentum to their blows, shredding the burlap in the process. Never since had she used such instrument on any of her horses…
As Joey’s eyes flickered over her designated chastisers, her heart sank when she recognized the men, two of whom she knew quite well, while the third one knew her all too well.
Next to her father stood Rip Thornton, the ranch’s foreman; he was a bachelor in his forties, and the one man she least wanted to be involved in her whipping. Up to this day, Joey had never endured Thornton's allotment of strokes without flinching and breaking her pose. Once, when she was sixteen, he had been the first to have a go at her and she had reached back to her scalded buttocks after only four of his strokes, thus earning herself an extra twenty-four lashes with the horse whip from her father after the initial sixteen cuts.
The second man selected for the task was Jimmy Lindstrom. Actually he was but a boy, about two years younger than Joey, who had been living on the ranch with his parents for years. His father was a well respected wrangler, but the lanky youth seemed to have a penchant for cruelty towards animals that made others avoid him, and Joey, too, had always felt uncomfortable in his company. She vowed to herself that this creep would not be the one to make her flinch.
For the third man, there couldn’t have been a worse choice. Cody Jenkins was a young cowboy from Texas who had joined the Yellowstone workforce less than a year ago. Hence he could not have witnessed a previous birthday thrashing, but Joey was under no illusion that he had heard everything about those loathsome events. What made his summoning particularly unpleasant for Joey was that she had been seeing the handsome ranch hand over the past few months, and he in turn had seen every square inch of her body which he was now supposed to chasten with a crop… Joey wasn’t sure whether her father knew about their liaison, but it would be like him to use his power in such spiteful manner to make his daughter’s lover participate in her public degradation. It bugged her even more though that dear Cody apparently hadn’t had the guts to decline the dubious honor…
Birthday Beating (Room/Arrival)It was a crisp February day in Eastern Montana, but the Chinook wind took the chilling bite off the cold. Inside Yellowstone Ranch, young Josephine "Joey" MacDonald sat on the edge of her bed with considerable trepidation. The tawny-haired beauty had a frown of apprehension on her pretty face as her pale blue eyes alternated between the longcase clock and the closed door of her room. She had donned leather chaps and panties, no pants, cowboy boots, and a heavy woolen men’s shirt that stretched across her ample bosom, and for all appearances, if not for the missing pants, the young woman looked ready for a winterly ride into the nearby valley.
However, Ross MacDonald's daughter and only offspring did not have a pleasant day awaiting her, even though it was her birthday. Outside the ranch house, over at the stables, the members of the ranch household were already gathering; for at exactly 3 p.m., the hour of her birth, she would be led outside, stripped naked before the eyes of the ranch folk, and given twenty lashes with her father’s riding crop — one for each year of her age — across her bare bottom.
Since her fourteenth year the lovely young lass had been enduring this painful rite of passage. The girl's mother had passed away that year, and Ross MacDonald, last of the Glasgow cattle baron dynasty, exasperated that his wife had not born him a son, vowed that his only heir would dearly earn the property that would be bequeathed to her when she became of age. Thus under the stern tutelage of her father, and with many a stroke of the rod for any shortcomings, Joey, as everyone at the Yellowstone Ranch kept calling her, developed into one of the top horseback riders in all of Montana. The birthday whippings were one of the trials imposed by her father to test her resolve and fortitude, and they would continue until she reached the age of twenty-one.
Three ranch hands were selected to administer the birthday beating, and at the rancher’s decree, the man causing his daughter to flinch and break pose during her chastisement would be awarded a week’s pay for his efforts. As for the young heiress of the Yellowstone ranch, she would then be tied for the remaining strokes of her sentence, after which her father himself would deliver an additional punishment of twice the number of lashes that were remaining from her original count at the time she had flinched. He would use a single-thonged horse whip on her back for that, and pitiable Joey would have to count the lashes of this extra supplement herself…
A respectful tapping at the door told Joey that the time of her ordeal was near. She rose from her bed and straightened her shoulders when she walked to the door to let in the housekeeper who would lead her over to the stables. Maude was old enough to be Joey’s grandmother, and had been with the MacDonald family for decades; she had tended to Joey's wounds after each birthday beating, and seemed as ill at ease with the unfolding event as her young charge.
"Are you ready, Josephine?" Maude asked softy, using Joey’s full name as she always did, and Joey inclined her head in reply and smiled wanly.
Maude then stepped aside to let Joey pass, and fell in step behind her as they proceeded down the pathway to the stables.
The onlookers viewed this annual dressing down of the cattle baron’s daughter with a variety of emotions. Many of the household staff had watched Joey grow from a child into a beautiful young woman, and while some regarded the whipping of the girl with shocked indignation, others viewed the painful degradation of the future owner of the ranch with glee and a sense of perverse vindication. However, and despite the divers sentiments, no one would miss the event, and the married women whose husbands attended the whipping were said to benefit from the obscene spectacle when they retired to their beds with their aroused spouses.
Joey glanced briefly at her father’s stony face, then down at the black, menacing crop which he flexed in his hands. The leather-wrapped rod, with its fiendishly-stinging, braided and waxed trainer was a fearsome instrument, rather made to be applied to the coarse hide of a horse than the soft skin of a woman. Joey vividly remembered an occurrence, years before her first birthday thrashing, when she had witnessed some stablehands taking practice swings at stacked grain bags in the barn, striving to lend maximum momentum to their blows, shredding the burlap in the process. Never since had she used such instrument on any of her horses…
As Joey’s eyes flickered over her designated chastisers, her heart sank when she recognized the men, two of whom she knew quite well, while the third one knew her all too well.
Next to her father stood Rip Thornton, the ranch’s foreman; he was a bachelor in his forties, and the one man she least wanted to be involved in her whipping. Up to this day, Joey had never endured Thornton's allotment of strokes without flinching and breaking her pose. Once, when she was sixteen, he had been the first to have a go at her and she had reached back to her scalded buttocks after only four of his strokes, thus earning herself an extra twenty-four lashes with the horse whip from her father after the initial sixteen cuts.
The second man selected for the task was Jimmy Lindstrom. Actually he was but a boy, about two years younger than Joey, who had been living on the ranch with his parents for years. His father was a well respected wrangler, but the lanky youth seemed to have a penchant for cruelty towards animals that made others avoid him, and Joey, too, had always felt uncomfortable in his company. She vowed to herself that this creep would not be the one to make her flinch.
For the third man, there couldn’t have been a worse choice. Cody Jenkins was a young cowboy from Texas who had joined the Yellowstone workforce less than a year ago. Hence he could not have witnessed a previous birthday thrashing, but Joey was under no illusion that he had heard everything about those loathsome events. What made his summoning particularly unpleasant for Joey was that she had been seeing the handsome ranch hand over the past few months, and he in turn had seen every square inch of her body which he was now supposed to chasten with a crop… Joey wasn’t sure whether her father knew about their liaison, but it would be like him to use his power in such spiteful manner to make his daughter’s lover participate in her public degradation. It bugged her even more though that dear Cody apparently hadn’t had the guts to decline the dubious honor…
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] Birthday Beating (Strip/Ready)
The grim-faced cattle baron nodded towards Maude, and the old housekeeper gently nudged Joey in the small of her back, prompting her that she was to take off her clothes.
Her bigoted father considered it part of Joey’s trial of humility and obedience that she had to strip in front of an audience beneath her station, which made Joey do her best to cheat him of the satisfaction of seeing her shamed. She had not bothered to put on her denims and wore no top underneath her shirt, to spare herself the embarrassment of having to wiggle out of these garments in front of a gloating audience. Her chaps were easily shed, and even allowed her to leave on her boots, which she found oddly comforting. She brusquely stripped off her panties before she unbuttoned her shirt, briefly baring her ample breasts to the lecherous eyes of the onlookers when she let the fabric slide over her shoulders...
Joey brusquely stripped off her panties before she unbuttoned her shirt, briefly baring her ample breasts to the lecherous eyes of the onlookers when she let the fabric slide over her shoulders, before she placed her arms across her chest.
It was not out of modesty that she assumed this position, since it afforded the audience a look at the more private parts of her body, which were adorned by a neatly trimmed triangle of blonde pubic hair. But to stand unbound with her arms at her sides, or to cover her sex while the lash would be searing her skin, would only invite the involuntary protective rush of her hands to her smarting buttocks, which would result in the extra ration of pain she was so firmly resolved to avoid. Joey had found that she could maintain her composure much better in this position, and what was more, by covering her breasts she also prevented them from bobbing about as her body jerked under the whip, thus presenting a lewd spectacle to the men in the audience.
Naked now save for her boots, Joey kept her legs ramrod straight and her thighs pressed together as she straightened her shoulders and gazed impassively above the heads of the onlookers, meeting the eyes of none. She was not ashamed of her nakedness, but well aware that her female charms stirred the imagination of every man in the audience, as to what they would do with her given the opportunity - a thought at which she involuntarily cupped her luscious breasts a little tighter.
A chorused sigh of awe went through the audience when Ross MacDonald finally stepped forward to start off the whipping, handing the riding crop to young Jimmy Lindstrom.
"Go on, lad, first six are yours."
Birthday Beating (Strip/Ready)The grim-faced cattle baron nodded towards Maude, and the old housekeeper gently nudged Joey in the small of her back, prompting her that she was to take off her clothes.
Her bigoted father considered it part of Joey’s trial of humility and obedience that she had to strip in front of an audience beneath her station, which made Joey do her best to cheat him of the satisfaction of seeing her shamed. She had not bothered to put on her denims and wore no top underneath her shirt, to spare herself the embarrassment of having to wiggle out of these garments in front of a gloating audience. Her chaps were easily shed, and even allowed her to leave on her boots, which she found oddly comforting. She brusquely stripped off her panties before she unbuttoned her shirt, briefly baring her ample breasts to the lecherous eyes of the onlookers when she let the fabric slide over her shoulders...
It was not out of modesty that she assumed this position, since it afforded the audience a look at the more private parts of her body, which were adorned by a neatly trimmed triangle of blonde pubic hair. But to stand unbound with her arms at her sides, or to cover her sex while the lash would be searing her skin, would only invite the involuntary protective rush of her hands to her smarting buttocks, which would result in the extra ration of pain she was so firmly resolved to avoid. Joey had found that she could maintain her composure much better in this position, and what was more, by covering her breasts she also prevented them from bobbing about as her body jerked under the whip, thus presenting a lewd spectacle to the men in the audience.
Naked now save for her boots, Joey kept her legs ramrod straight and her thighs pressed together as she straightened her shoulders and gazed impassively above the heads of the onlookers, meeting the eyes of none. She was not ashamed of her nakedness, but well aware that her female charms stirred the imagination of every man in the audience, as to what they would do with her given the opportunity - a thought at which she involuntarily cupped her luscious breasts a little tighter.
A chorused sigh of awe went through the audience when Ross MacDonald finally stepped forward to start off the whipping, handing the riding crop to young Jimmy Lindstrom.
"Go on, lad, first six are yours."
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] Birthday Beating (Rear/ First Lash)
Joey had turned her head and watched in dismay as the despicable youth positioned himself behind her, and renewed her resolve not to flinch under his lashes, raising her chin another inch to evince her determination. The boy was obviously surprised that he of all three was chosen to commence the whipping, but had all too eagerly taken the offered rod.
It was apparent that he was left-handed and would hence lash her from the right side. That meant that at least six of the twenty strokes would impart the brunt of their damage to the usually less punished left cheek of her bottom, thus distributing the stripes more evenly on her skin. Besides, the lanky youth clearly lacked the strength of the more seasoned ranch hands, which filled Joey with hope that her whipping might be off to a bearable start.
Joey had never made it to the end of a birthday whipping without breaking down and grabbing back at her scalded behind at some point. However, except for that disastrous sixteenth birthday, her fortitude had steadily improved as she had managed to decrease the number of extra strokes each year. Last year, she had borne seventeen out of nineteen without flinching, and only four additional strokes from her father. It was an open secret that the ranch hands ran a betting lottery in the bunkhouse on the lash on which she would break during her ordeal, and bets were high on her this year.
But she was in for a nasty surprise...
Young Jimmy took a step back and lowered the crop, then he drew back his left arm and pivoted in a two-step motion on his right foot, swinging the cop behind him, thus imparting the full momentum of the turn into the lash when it bent around the sinuous curve of Joey’s buttocks.
The leather-wrapped rod produced a sharp snapping sound as it struck her bare skin, leaving a darkening weal in its wake as the contusion quickly filled with blood.
Joey’s eyes opened wide under the fiery sting, and a shocked "Uhhh!" escaped her lips as she was taken aback at the force of this first stroke. It suggested that the little prick had practiced this kind of thing, and for a moment the unsettling picture of the torn grain sacks crossed her mind...
"One!" Ross MacDonald set out to count, impassive to his daughter’s plight.
Birthday Beating (Rear/ First Lash)Joey had turned her head and watched in dismay as the despicable youth positioned himself behind her, and renewed her resolve not to flinch under his lashes, raising her chin another inch to evince her determination. The boy was obviously surprised that he of all three was chosen to commence the whipping, but had all too eagerly taken the offered rod.
It was apparent that he was left-handed and would hence lash her from the right side. That meant that at least six of the twenty strokes would impart the brunt of their damage to the usually less punished left cheek of her bottom, thus distributing the stripes more evenly on her skin. Besides, the lanky youth clearly lacked the strength of the more seasoned ranch hands, which filled Joey with hope that her whipping might be off to a bearable start.
Joey had never made it to the end of a birthday whipping without breaking down and grabbing back at her scalded behind at some point. However, except for that disastrous sixteenth birthday, her fortitude had steadily improved as she had managed to decrease the number of extra strokes each year. Last year, she had borne seventeen out of nineteen without flinching, and only four additional strokes from her father. It was an open secret that the ranch hands ran a betting lottery in the bunkhouse on the lash on which she would break during her ordeal, and bets were high on her this year.
But she was in for a nasty surprise...
The leather-wrapped rod produced a sharp snapping sound as it struck her bare skin, leaving a darkening weal in its wake as the contusion quickly filled with blood.
Joey’s eyes opened wide under the fiery sting, and a shocked "Uhhh!" escaped her lips as she was taken aback at the force of this first stroke. It suggested that the little prick had practiced this kind of thing, and for a moment the unsettling picture of the torn grain sacks crossed her mind...
"One!" Ross MacDonald set out to count, impassive to his daughter’s plight.
tanuno
Well-known member
[Ardalos] Birthday Beating (Next lash/Cody)
"Carry on like that, lad, and you may even win yourself the extra pay," the stern head of the Yellowstone Ranch announced, obviously appreciative of both the boy’s dexterity and zeal.
Jimmy smiled proudly at the cattle baron’s encouragement, his heart pounding with sexual arousal, his breathing a bit ragged as he eyed the crimson welt his lash had left on Joey's bare butt. Focusing his gaze on her twitching buttocks, he silently resolved to go for the price and do his worst to make the proud girl break...
But Joey knew better now what to expect, and when she heard Jimmy’s boots drag across the frozen ground when he made his two-step pivot, she clenched her jaw and braced herself for the next onslaught of pain.
Again, she could not keep her naked body from stiffening under the scalding bite of the lash, but this time she managed to stifle the squeal that wanted to burst from her lips.
The third lash was dealt out and borne, then the fourth and the fifth, but despite Jimmy’s efforts, no more sound escaped Joey’s throat, whereas gasps of astonishment could be heard from the audience at the near stoic fortitude with which the suffering rancher's daughter withstood young Jimmy's vigorous attempts to break her poise.
However, when a frustrated Jimmy measured his distance for the ultimate stroke of his allotment, his efforts had clearly taken their toll on her courageous display – her breath had visibly quickened, and a fine sheen of perspiration covered her flushed face in spite of the cold.
Once more a sharp smack echoed over the yard as the crop struck Joey’s tender skin, and a hiss of sucked in breath attested to the sting of the stroke.
"Six!" The girl's stern father proclaimed bluntly, as he appraised his daughter's welted backside.
From her hips to the base of her buttocks, her skin bore half a dozen parallel weals, bright red on the right, darkening into a purplish hue on the more punished left buttock where the tip of the crop had imparted its fiendish sting.
MacDonald gave a curt nod of approval to young Jimmy as he took the riding crop from him, while his naked daughter glanced fretfully over her shoulder to watch her father pass the frightful instrument on to the next man...
Despite the cold which chilled her goose-bumped skin, Joey felt a flush of shame warm her face when she saw Cody Jenkins take up the leather-wrapped rod, ill at ease when his eyes met hers.
She took several deep breaths and straightened her proud shoulders as she tightened her resolve to remain impassive under her lover’s allotment of strokes.
Unlike young Jimmy, Cody was right-handed, but he bungled the first stroke of his count as he awkwardly swung at Joey’s right bottom cheek. The darkening weal that was branded on her side indicated that the tip of the crop had hit home around her hip where the pain would be less intense.
"Seven!" Ross MacDonald intoned, frowning. "Lay on with a will, Jenkins! We are not in Texas here, this is Montana!"
Some snickering could be heard amidst the gathered crowd at MacDonald's derisive remark, while a red-faced Cody prepared for his next stroke...
Will it continue? ... Let's hope so (he usually publishes one painting per month).
Birthday Beating (Next lash/Cody)"Carry on like that, lad, and you may even win yourself the extra pay," the stern head of the Yellowstone Ranch announced, obviously appreciative of both the boy’s dexterity and zeal.
Jimmy smiled proudly at the cattle baron’s encouragement, his heart pounding with sexual arousal, his breathing a bit ragged as he eyed the crimson welt his lash had left on Joey's bare butt. Focusing his gaze on her twitching buttocks, he silently resolved to go for the price and do his worst to make the proud girl break...
But Joey knew better now what to expect, and when she heard Jimmy’s boots drag across the frozen ground when he made his two-step pivot, she clenched her jaw and braced herself for the next onslaught of pain.
Again, she could not keep her naked body from stiffening under the scalding bite of the lash, but this time she managed to stifle the squeal that wanted to burst from her lips.
The third lash was dealt out and borne, then the fourth and the fifth, but despite Jimmy’s efforts, no more sound escaped Joey’s throat, whereas gasps of astonishment could be heard from the audience at the near stoic fortitude with which the suffering rancher's daughter withstood young Jimmy's vigorous attempts to break her poise.
However, when a frustrated Jimmy measured his distance for the ultimate stroke of his allotment, his efforts had clearly taken their toll on her courageous display – her breath had visibly quickened, and a fine sheen of perspiration covered her flushed face in spite of the cold.
Once more a sharp smack echoed over the yard as the crop struck Joey’s tender skin, and a hiss of sucked in breath attested to the sting of the stroke.
"Six!" The girl's stern father proclaimed bluntly, as he appraised his daughter's welted backside.
From her hips to the base of her buttocks, her skin bore half a dozen parallel weals, bright red on the right, darkening into a purplish hue on the more punished left buttock where the tip of the crop had imparted its fiendish sting.
MacDonald gave a curt nod of approval to young Jimmy as he took the riding crop from him, while his naked daughter glanced fretfully over her shoulder to watch her father pass the frightful instrument on to the next man...
She took several deep breaths and straightened her proud shoulders as she tightened her resolve to remain impassive under her lover’s allotment of strokes.
Unlike young Jimmy, Cody was right-handed, but he bungled the first stroke of his count as he awkwardly swung at Joey’s right bottom cheek. The darkening weal that was branded on her side indicated that the tip of the crop had hit home around her hip where the pain would be less intense.
"Seven!" Ross MacDonald intoned, frowning. "Lay on with a will, Jenkins! We are not in Texas here, this is Montana!"
Some snickering could be heard amidst the gathered crowd at MacDonald's derisive remark, while a red-faced Cody prepared for his next stroke...
Will it continue? ... Let's hope so (he usually publishes one painting per month)
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