Cum a Cane?

She shook her head as the cane fell across the bottom of her foot. The tug against her anus was immediate, reminding her of the ball-ended hook inserted there, and tightly tied to her ponytail. He lashed at her foot again. Her back arched, and she shrieked around the bright red ball between her lips. A pop of air allowed the drool that had pooled in her mouth to squirt out, and dribble down her chin.

He struck her again and her toes curled as the pain began to throb dully. All of her attention was focused on the streaks of white-hot pain across her aching foot. Again the cane lashed out, her calf took the blow and she jolted with the unexpected slash. Again her head was tugged, her ass burning at the repeated thrusts from her contortions. If she could stay still it would not hurt in so many places, she knew it. He’d said as much to her at the beginning.

He had known she would break. *whap! whap! whap!* The cane hit hard against her ass, then her calf, and her other foot. Her head tossed around, her back arching and twisting. The pain came in waves, the bright slashes of pain from his hand, the torque on her hair, the repeated movement of  the hook buried in her shitter.

His hand stroked over her hip and she crooned deep in her throat, but the quick slap of the reedy wood where his hand had gently touched was perverse. Kind and mean in equal measure, she knew he would be smiling now, watching the lines grow; she felt them rising, felt the hot red lines bursting from her smooth skin.

She wanted to touch them.

Later she’d admire the bruises, and remembering, would masturbate to the memory of the pain. But for now she would endure.

Three hard taps, sole, heel, toes, brought her back to pain. Behind the gag, she grit her teeth, then screamed as the blows moved on, up her thigh to her hip, across her ass. He body burned, and imagined flames ripped along the path of the hated toy.

Again she arched, whinnied, tossed her head, groaned at the pain. His voice came from somewhere, nowhere, in front or behind her.

“Cum. Cum for me, painslut. Cum for me you little whore.”

The dance of the cane was audible, around his words. The rushing whoosh of it though the air, the sharp crack of it against her skin. Her feet took more of the blows, each strike an explosion of needle-like pain. Her asshole clenched on the intruding hook, the ball teasing her guts with every writhing movement.

With a sighing quiver, her body clenched down, gathering pain and exploded.

She woke, cradled against him, his cock buried in her cunt. It was the best way to come back from beyond. His hairy legs rubbed all the sore swollen welts, and she trembled with the need to cum.

He whispered in her ear.

“Greedy little cunt. Cum.”

She complied, instantly.

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