The Nanny

THE NANNY

Jo gives and receives in this thirteenth chapter

AURTHOR’S NOTE:  Since its inception in mid October (For whatever reason totaling over 100,000 contacts in its first two and a half months) with the chapter below, I think it’s finally time to retire the storyline, at least for now.  MY SINCERE APPRECIATION to all the followers and the generous ratings… J LEWIS

Chapter Thirteen

       Displaying herself in the nude as instructed, Jo sits back from the open end of the banquet table.  Filled with a half dozen of Master DeSade’s guests seated on either side, at its head he faces her unobstructed as the men dine with him in the great hall befitting a wing of a Chateau.  Facing toward the table while spread-eagled on the elevated backless stool, she keeps her legs spread and stretched widely apart totally exposing her sex, the gold stud sparkling, protruding from between her puffy labia folds.  Elbows raised and thrust back she keeps her fingers tightly interlocked behind her neck, as completely naked her tightly woven dark hair sways behind her back in a single shimmering braid with her breasts thrust erotically outward in perfectly symmetrical globes.  Her bare areolas smooth and flat, the nubs of the tan nipples hard, their matching gold studs also reflect the hall’s lighting.  The table served by the Caribbean help, a couple attractive women and a man who are all colorfully attired, Jo’s the only unclothed person in the lavish hall.

       Appearing to be oblivious toward the numerous lustful stares from the table of men, occasionally raising her eyes, she glances toward Master DeSade as if for approval as he leads the group in conversation.  Lowering, tilting her head at times, repositioning herself, she intentionally draws even more attention from the table.  Her heart beats just a little harder in her chest as she enjoys flaunting her incredibly exotic body; the excitement of tantalizing the group having her feeling dampness between her thighs, the warmth in her womb spreading. 

       Closely listening as their conversation leads toward the rest of the evening’s entertainment, she’s absorbed when the thoughts being bandied about begin to include her involvement in the activities.  Remaining stoic as several suggestions are offered of her leading the session with the bound women, the discussion ultimately leads to her also receiving discipline herself.  As the men offering their ideas occasionally stare lewdly toward her, she listens to their thoughts without visibly flinching, her eyes intentionally centering individually on each man as their ideas are vocalized, some beginning to go into greater, graphic detail as to how they’d like to discipline her.

       As the conversation circles the table and as more of the details are discussed, finding herself enthralled, she begins to really play to the group.  Arching her back, thrusting her breasts out or spreading her legs wider, she animatingly follows their vocal thoughts by somewhat posing herself as close as she can to mimic their ideas, of being their abused submissive, almost to the point of being able to feel the pain of their intentions.  At times lowering, shaking her head, biting her lip, even gently moaning as she closes her eyes, she entices their conversation to become even more graphic as her glistening body squirms across the stool.  As the suggestions become even more sinister her heart picks up a beat or two, her chest thumping as a few of the more outrageous ideas become frightening or even sadistic.  Yet, it’s also exciting and riveting to her while she senses the buildup of the raw eroticism in the air while capturing their full attention by unabashedly manipulating and flaunting her naked body as they speak. 

       Finally, Master DeSade seems to tire at her antics.  Slowly shaking his head back and forth, his eyes interlock sternly with hers.  Raising his arm to stop the conversation, and her, not wanting the discussion to get out of hand, first he makes it clear to the obviously tantalized group that since Jo would be administering to the pair of women, she obviously wouldn’t be considered for a harsh session herself.  On the other hand, personally wanting to scold her somewhat for her arousing tease, for enticing the men while knowing he really wouldn’t allow her to be severely punished, the idea by one of the Ukrainians fascinates him enough to consider with the rest of the group.

       He decides that before the session with the other women already down in the white chamber begins, Jo should present herself in the parlor stark naked and perform on the revolving podium encircled with seats placed for the men.  After several ideas are bandied about on the type of exhibition she should perform, the group settles on Jo being flogged, actually flogging herself, under the directions of various participants, across any or all parts of her naked body.  Amused and obviously pleased, the decision is unanimous by all at the table; an even dozen lashings settled on as being just about adequate.

       Glancing sternly toward Jo, Master DeSade firmly addresses her as the rest of the others quietly stare toward her.  “You’ve heard the decision Jo… Tell the men that you accept and what you’re willing to do.”

       “I… I accept…  Master… If… If that’s your wish.”  She slowly nods with her heart pounding even harder, now feeling both nervous, yet excited.  Glancing at each man as she solemnly remains in her original spread pose, she also nods down toward her naked breasts while she finishes.  “I… I will flog myself naked on the podium as directed…. A dozen lashings… Any… Anywhere desired… That I can reach!”

       “Good… Then it’s settled!”  Master DeSade decrees.  “Twelve lashings… Self imposed!... Done!... Now remain as you are Jo… Until the hall empties.”

       The meal completed, the evening’s entertainment finally agreed to, the men file out past Jo with each seeming to take their time, enjoying the view of her naked body remaining posed on the seat and the thoughts of her approaching session.  The Ukrainian’s seem even more pleased and taking the most time as she continues to stare straight ahead toward the table, pretending to ignore them as the one whispers.  “Your pussy’s going to be on fire, girl!”  The room finally emptied, Master DeSade approaches to dismiss her to her suite, to prep herself for the evening.  Advising her of how to prepare herself and of his expectations, he also orders her to ingest a concoction he’ll have sent up to her.

       The next couple hours quickly pass for her as she anticipates what’s ahead.  Having completed his instructions along with ingesting the drink, leaving her suite she enters the parlor and quietly steps between the layout of the occupied chairs; up onto the podium as it slowly revolves counter clockwise.  Picking up the supple crop from the floor, glancing toward the dozen circling seats, none empty but basically in shadows, she turns forward and displays her nude body for the group as she remains motionless until the podium completes a lazy, full rotation.  Every third seat’s red, occupied by the men whose orders she’s been instructed to follow.

       Freshly showered, shaved and oiled, her evenly tanned, virtually naked body shimmers under the overhead lighting reflecting down across the rotating stage.  Hair slicked back in a tight bun, her makeup’s impeccable.  Fully prepared, including the cocktail she was administered to heighten her sensitivity to pain, then grabbing the crop left for her, her self degradation has begun as the opening phase of the night’s entertainment.  Still, her continuous thoughts are to making Master proud of her, and also to tantalize the onlookers.

       Heart pounding, stomach swirling with anticipation, she makes it a point to stare directly into each individual’s eyes as she rotates past their seats while observing most returning stares are transfixed below her neckline.  Her glistening breasts slowly rising and lowering from her arcing chest with each calculated breath, she lets the damp split tip of the black flexing crop snap across the podium’s wooden floor as she clenches the woven handle in her right fist.  Each flick of her wrist, each snap of the whip and her symmetrical breasts sway as she builds toward flogging herself in front of the group of men.  All her body jewelry removed, the remnants of her piercings are still visible across her thickened nipples as they gently jiggle while she continues to arch her shoulders back while maintaining her serpentine stance with her feet spread apart in her stiletto heels.

       Tensing, taking a final deep breath, snapping the whip across the floor beside her one last time, she waits for the next red seat off to her left lining up in front of the circling podium.  As it centers in front of her, she glances downward across her naked torso and asks, almost rasping.  “Where?”

       “Your breast!”  He orders, arms folded in front of his chest, barely changing expressions as he nods toward her chest.  “Either… Either one… Across the nipple though!”

       “Yes, across my breast… Sir.”  Flicking her wrist, snapping the crop upward across her own thrust out chest, the supple leather flattens across her left globe.  “Thwack!”  The narrowing tip disappears into the bud of her nipple as moisture flicks from her tensing body, the intensity of the sting a bit surprising.  Biting her lip, she maintains a forced smile as she glances directly into the eyes of the leering man now seated directly in front of her as she mutters.  “That’s one, Sir!... Across my breast as ordered.”  Feeling the burn, realizing it’s already much more painful then normal, she wonders how strong the concoction was. 

       Lowering the crop, a thin red welt rises across her oiled flesh as she glances down toward her breast, then into the faces of the next couple of seated men as the podium continues to circle slowly past.  “Where… Where next?”  She asks as she flicks the whip jerkily back and forth, directly staring toward the eyes of the next man in a red seat lining up in front of the revolving podium.

       Glancing, nodding toward her breasts with a slight smile, he answers.  “Your other titty… Right across that nipple!... But a little harder this time… I want to hear the whip crack!”

       “Yes Sir… A little harder across my… My other breast.”  Damn!  She thinks to herself as she switches hands, shuffles it back and forth for a good grip, still feeling the sting of the first lashing.   Flicking the crop upward again even harder, she blinks her eyes.  “Thwack!”  Visibly jerking, her breast bounces as the tip of the crop snaps across her right nipple, again causing a crisp spray.  “Oomph!”  Masking a slight groan as she continues to maintain her stoic smile, she barely grunts back toward the man.  “That’s two… Sir!... Across my other breast.”

       Skipping a couple of the spectators as she feels the searing burn through her right nipple, she takes a deep breath while cussing to herself about the unexpected concoction Master ordered her to drink, obviously heightening the sensitivity of her bare flesh.  Finally regaining her composure, she addresses yet another staring man in the next red seat as she glances directly into his eager eyes, the podium rotating directly in front of him.  “Where next, Sir?”

       “Between your spread legs… From behind!”  He grins as he nods toward her parted thighs.  “Make the tip of that whip reach across to your bellybutton!... Spread wider though… Squat for me!”

       Again switching hands as she slightly squats while dragging the whip behind her, she struggles to balance herself in the heels as she lets the tip of the leather scrape across the floor.  Staring directly into the man’s widening eyes, she asks.  “Like this?... Between my legs, Sir?”  Without waiting an answer, snapping her wrist and flicking the crop upwards from behind, the sound resonates throughout the room.  “Crack!”  The snap of the whip harsher then expected, the leather slices between her spread slit, the folds of her labia, the curling end flicking across her pubic mound as the split tips curl across her sunken navel.

       “Ohh!”  An audible grunt as her naked body jerks, her breasts bouncing as her head turns with the podium, her left knee slipping down close to the floor while she staggers to maintain her balance.  Her jaw quivering, noticeably struggling to maintain her equilibrium, she hoarsely rasps toward the man.  “That… That’s three, Sir!... Be… Between my legs for you!”  Again deeply inhaling, realizing how much the extent of the pain keeps escalating from the drug; she braces herself on the revolving podium after she slowly straightens.

       The platform having made almost three quarters of an arc, her naked body quivers. Beads of moisture springing up across her bare flesh shimmer under the heat of the lamp.  A bright red welt glistening from between her legs to up across her pubic mound matches in intensity with the pair across her swaying breasts as she momentarily hesitates.  Head lowered, again taking a couple deep breaths as the last stinging lash across her stomach forced most of the air from her lungs, she grips the leather handle with both fists behind her back while glancing up toward the next man, one of the Ukrainians, in the forth red seat.  Her heart seems to sink in her chest as she stares toward him, knowing the next lashing’s really going to hurt, remembering what he said earlier in the dining hall.

       “Your pussy, Whore!... And hard!”  He gloats with a grin.  “Push it out toward me… Then spread it… Whip it right across your clit… And Bitch… Keep that pussy pointed right toward me until I see it whipped!”

       Glaring directly at him, eye to eye, slowly shaking her head back and forth, she forces herself to arch backward while she spreads her legs wider.  Thrusting her hips out as she bows her shoulders back, she bites her lip as she scowls.  “Across my vagina… Sir?”

       “What?... No!… I said your pussy… Your clit!”  He mocks as he nudges his friend seated next to him.  “Say it girl!... Say pussy and spread wider and whip that cunt before you pass me by!”

       The podium still rotating toward his other pair of friends seated beside him, she braces herself as she thrusts her spread hips outward.  Still glaring directly into his eyes, wanting to give the whip a flick across his face, she hesitates, mutters.  “Across my pussy… My clit… And hard!... Yes… Yes Sir… Okay!”  Raising the handle in her right fist with her left arm stiffening, swaying back as she twists her naked body to face him, now seated just below her, the downward motion of the whip curls through the air as her eyes reflexively squint shut, the tip of the whip just missing his face as he jerks toward the side.

       “Thwack!”  Again the sound resonates as the leather snaps across the front of her bare thigh.  Curling across her thrust out pubic mound, the flicking tip disappears between her spread labia folds into her gaping slit as her naked breasts sway across her chest, slapping together.  “Oomph!”  Grunting, a tear welling in her eye, dripping off her cheek, she glances back toward him.  “That’s four Sir… That one across my pussy… And… And clit!... Just for you!”

       His friends obviously amused, with a couple chuckles they glance at his red face as the podium circles past.  Another welt on her bare skin, this one circling her glistening flesh between her thighs and Jo takes another couple halting breaths as she concentrates on locating the next red seat while trying to block out the mounting pain.  Ignoring the looks from the other men as she tries to collect her breath, she lets the whip’s tip again drag across the floor’s surface as she gazes toward her left as the man in the first red seat surprisingly waves her past with a nod and a couple of unexpected but welcomed words.  “Next time!”

       The second rotation slowly passes by the circling dozen seats as Jo’s allowed her short respite.  Her naked flesh glistens, the narrow red welts raising off her tanned flesh, the men watching the light reflecting off her chiseled, yet voluptuous body as she turns another three-sixty in front of them.  Mentally preparing herself, taking deep breaths; she positions herself with the whip hanging down from her side.  Passing the Ukrainians, she lowers her eyes, ignoring them before starting the full rotation once again.

       More orders commence, more self inflicted lashings applied as the podium continues to rotate, the welts mounting across her naked flesh.  The pain becoming numbing, she continues the count, seven… Eight… Ten.  Finally the podium swings around for the twelfth and final lashing, ordered by the Ukrainian.

       “Turn the handle around!” He orders.  “Spread your pussy lips with one hand and… And swing that whip hard… Flatten that clit with the wide part of the whip!”

       Blankly staring through her puffy eyes, twisting the whip in her hand as she spreads her labia folds with her thumb and forefinger, she mumbles.  “Yes… My clit with… With the wide part of the whip!”  Bowing her knees, lowering her head, without even hesitating she swings the crop from the narrow end straight out then back up between her spread thighs.  “Thwack!”

       Jerking, biting her lip as her body trembles, she mutters.  “That’s… That’s twelve Sir……Oh God!... Across my… My clit!”  Legs shaking, the pain burning across her breasts and even more severely between her thighs, the familiar stirring resonates deeper inside.

       Glancing downward toward the multiple welts crisscrossing her perspiration soaked breasts, glancing toward the men enthralled with her exhibition, even through the pain she can’t help also feeling the dampness, the moistness between her quivering thighs.  Relieved that her portion of self discipline is over, that she can retire to her suite, she’s sure the men think she needs to administer to her pain.  Dropping the crop, her head lowered, she steps from the podium as she cups her welted breasts.  Pressing one hand tightly across her chest with the other hand pressing between her thighs, her tip of her thumb disappears into her moist slit as it presses across her engorged and aroused clit.  Struggling in her stilettos as she slowly hobbles past the men into the hallway, she mentally tries to separate the pain from the pleasure in her racing mind as she retreats to her suite upstairs for another couple hour respite before reporting to the basement and reversing roles.  Soon after, the men are led toward the white chamber.

       Meanwhile in the basement, in the chamber at the end of the hall, the pair of bound women are no longer clothed in black latex.  Virtually naked, only with oversized bright red ‘O’ rings stretching their mouths obscenely open, Bonnie and Kim are being presented for the men’s sexual pleasures.  Standing bowed forward with their ankles shackled, their feet widely spread onto low small wooden blocks, their buttocks rise above their curved backs leaving their orifices gapping and easily accessible at the proper height, their clit rings dangling.  Heads forced lower; their braided hair’s tightly wrapped and roped to their crossed wrists cuffed up behind their chokers with a single twine also tugging from the front of the chokers to eyelets in the floor.  Necks bowed sharply back their faces are tilted upright, their yawning mouths perfectly positioned waist high for the men.  Facing one another just a few feet apart, their glistening bodies tremble as their ample breasts quiver, the metal nipple rings swaying beneath their arched torsos as they stare into each others eyes.

       Jessica approaches the pair of women as the escort; Greg stands toward the side with a couple riding crops in his hand.  Glancing toward the salved brandings crossing the small of the women’s backs as she turns from one to the other, Jessica glances toward the dozen men finally drawing around the bound women as they enter the room from the hallway.  “They’re about ready… Any orifice you want!”  Taking a crop from Greg, she positions herself alongside the redhead, as Greg does the same with Bonnie.

       Leaning down, glancing back and forth, Jessica taps Bonnie’s left nipple ring, then Kim’s right with the tip of the crop.  “Ladies… Be energetic while you’re being fucked!... If you don’t perform enthusiastically, Greg and I will wear these crops out on you!... Understand?... I said… Understand?!”

       Their eyes welling as they glare solemnly toward one another, they appear to be trying to shake their heads as Jessica firmly flicks the tip of the crop back and forth across their jiggling nipples.

       Listening to their groans while standing upright, again smiling she nods toward the men.  “They’re all yours for the next couple hours!”

       Stepping in front, behind the naked women, the rest of the men circle as almost instantly hard, thick cocks jam, shove, ram into the pairs mouths and vaginas.  Pushing, pounding, the men force their entire lengths of cock deep into the grunting women’s orifices, into their gapping vaginas, through the large ‘O’ rings stretching their mouths.  Breasts swaying as the nipple rings jiggle and bounce below them; the women’s bound bodies jerk and twist as the men’s bare hands claw at their tortured flesh.

       An occasional harsh flick across a bare back or buttocks, sometimes a vicious uppercut across a flailing breast and Jessica and Greg keep the anguished women’s attention, the crisscrossing red welts mounting.  The women’s glistening bodies continuously in motion, cocks penetrating their every orifice, the constant line of men relentlessly rotate about.  Minutes compile to over an hour as the onslaught of men ravage the overwhelmed women.  Sweat mixing with other fluids drench, drip from the pair’s naked flesh, across the floor below them as the occasional ‘Thwack’ of a crop echoes in the chamber.

       Barely able to maintain their torturous stances, their bodies trembling, twitching as the assault slows to just single penetrations, Jessica continues her personal vendetta with the redhead.  Flicking the dampened crop, centering across the nipple rings and clit rings, she watches the reflexive quivers of Kim’s abused piercings covered with puffy welts.  Bonnie’s naked body, though whipped and also crisscrossed with welts, still hasn’t received quite the punishment from Greg.

       Finally stepping back toward the wall, Greg retrieves a couple full buckets of cold brine water and as the last of the men step back, he splashes it across the exhausted women’s backs and head.  Soaking, drenching their raw, bare flesh, their grunts are covered by the splashing water swirling into the floor drain between them, mixed with the other bodily fluids.  Refilling, drenching the women a second, finally a third time, their naked, welted bodies jerk as the salted water burns into their soaked flesh.

       Jessica steps toward the door, having the men follow her to another room across the hall to freshen up.  A few minutes later, returning to the chamber alone, she begins assisting Greg with the preparation of the women for the next phase of the demonstration to commence within the hour.  Releasing the bedeviled women from their painful positions, their wrists are still kept bound behind their necks.  Placing them in even more painful positions individually across the room, Jessica and Greg quickly prepares them before leaving the pair momentarily alone.

       Now hooded, still completely naked from below the neck, Bonnie and Kim’s soaked, bare bodies glisten as they face each other from several feet apart while straddling a knotted rope disappearing up between their shaved labia folds.  Bonnie painfully remembers the all too familiar rope from previously riding it before being exiled.  Wrists still bound tightly up behind their necks to their black leather collars, their bare breasts jaunt outward, the dull, heavy metal rings dragging at their nipples.  Their tattoos and salved brandings shimmer under the lights as their welted, tortured bodies tremble under their black leather bondage hoods, their hair in flowing ponytails pressing out above the tops of their individual hoods.  Saliva drools from their bright red ‘O’ rings still spreading their lips as they struggle to tiptoe up off the balls of their feet.  A vat of brine water rests against the wall between them with various whips and crops soaking, ominous tools to be used on their naked flesh.

       The entire group of men are reassembled in the chamber after their brief half hour break, Jessica stepping to one side of the bound women while still scantly garbed in her black Dominatrix outfit, the escort stepping to the other.  A few minutes later, Jo enters, still completely naked but obviously freshly showered.  The crimson welts glistening across her breasts and thighs highlight her shimmering body as she steps toward the vat.  Appearing unaffected by the self inflicted flogging, actually invigorated as she picks out a viciously thin brine soaked hickory switch, she snaps it back and forth across the wall above the vat.  The salted brine trickles down across the whitewashed stone as she turns toward the bound women.

       Staring toward their already whip marred bare breasts, feeling the pain still resonating in her own, she holds the thick end of the switch in her left fist and tugs the narrower tip back with her other until it bows in a circle.  Positioning herself close to the rope, holding the switch above Bonnie’s left breast, she glances toward the red ‘O’ ring as she whispers.  “Remember amusing yourself with my tits… Madam?”  Without awaiting an acknowledgement of any kind, she let’s the switch unleash.  “Swish… Thwack!”

       “Aaaggghhh!!!”  Saliva spews from the jerking ‘O’ ring with her gurgling scream as Bonnie’s body twists backwards on the swaying knotted rope, the tip of the switch tearing into her left areola and outer side of her nipple, glancing off the metal ring

       Quickly turning, taking a couple steps, bowing the switch, just above Kim’s nipple, without speaking to her Jo lets the hickory fly.  “Swish… Thwack!”

       “Oomph!”  The painful grunt emits from Kim’s stretched lips as the switch embeds itself into her right breast, barely creasing the nipple, missing the ring.  Her body jerking backwards, again the rope vibrates between the tortured women’s trembling legs.

       Stepping to the center of the rope, lifting, jerking it up and down with her free hand, Jo flips the rope higher with each tug, the balled knots disappearing up between each woman’s spread thighs, scraping their metal clit rings across the damp rope.  Lightly chewing on her bottom lip as she reflects on her previous treatment by Bonnie, twisting the rope, Jo relentlessly forces the women to balance, tiptoe as their bare tattooed breasts bounce, their stretched nipples jerked by the heavy metal rings.

       Jo flexes her fist, grinding the rope between the women’s chaffing labia folds, the knots rubbing across their raw clits.  The women’s gurgling grunts echo through the chamber as their thigh, calf muscles flex across their trembling legs while they struggle to painfully tiptoe and maintain their awkward balance.  Stepping back, staring across the group of engrossed men, Jo feels the stirring again in her stomach, her heart racing.  Her emotions ranging across the spectrum; the pain and humiliation of her own self inflicted flogging to her vicious treatment of these two Doms seems to bring out a comparable sense of excitement from each.

       Knowing the men can’t take their eyes off her own naked body, knowing how she’s learned pain and pleasure’s only a razor’s edge apart to her now, Jo feels an almost sexual rapture as she glances toward Jessica, ignoring the engrossed observers.

       “Help me with her?”  She rasps as she nods toward the redhead, then toward the vat.

       Struck by the moment, the adrenaline flowing, Jessica quickly nods, grabs another soaked hickory as she can’t wait to repay the redheaded Dom.  Stepping beside the redhead, grabbing and twisting the base of her left breast, Jessica jerks her along the rope until another knot buries itself behind her impaled clit.  Flicking the switch back and forth across the dancing right breast, the sound echoes above Kim’s whimpers.  “Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!”  Back and forth, Jessica flicks the switch as the bare breast bounces, the nipple ring jerking.  Kim’s body reflexively lurches forward, her tortured breast crisscrossed with fresh red welts...

       “Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!”  Following suite, Jo drags Bonnie across another knot in the rope by her right breast as she flails the left breast with her supple switch.  The rope flexes, springs back and forth as the women’s pulled within a foot or so of each other, their gurgling moans barely audible above the grunts of Jo and Jessica.

       “Get a thicker hickory!”  Jo excitedly rasps as she glances toward Jessica while tugging at Bonnie’s left nipple ring and Kim’s right.  “Hurry!”

       Pulling the rings toward one another until they brush together, twisting, holding them firmly together as both women’s breasts stretch straight outward, she grabs the hickory from Jess, shoving the narrower end through the aligned rings.  Smiling, nodding, Jess grabs the other pair of rings and jerks the women’s breasts, grinding the nipples together in line.   Jo continues to slide the tip of the hickory on through the second set of rings, aligning the switch before stepping back.  The women’s breasts are forced to stretch outward, their nipples connected by the bending hickory through the rings as their shoulders bow forward.  Arched toward one another, they continue to tiptoe on the balls of their feet, the rope flexing painfully between their thighs.

       Stepping behind Bonnie, Jo glances toward Jessica.  Positioning across from one another, Jo presses the hickory across Bonnie’s butt cheeks, beneath the branding.  Feeling the trembling of Bonnie’s body through the switch, Jo gives Jessica a nod.  “Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!”  Flicking the switch, each flick lands with a smack an inch or so higher across both butt cheeks.  Jo watches Bonnie’s naked body slamming against Kim’s arching torso as she begins to receive the same treatment from Jessica.  As the switches flick across their bare flesh, jerking forward their breasts flatten together, the rope dancing between their legs.

       Lowering the switch, grabbing Bonnie’s flowing ponytail, Jo jerks it downwards toward the rope.  Handed a strand of hemp by the escort, wrapping it tightly with Bonnie’s hair she binds it to the knotted rope as she tugs her head back, again whispering.  “Enjoying this as much as I am… Madam?  Ready for those stretched tits of yours to really taste the hickory?”

       Jessica follows suit with the redhead’s ponytail, twisting Kim’s head back while wrapping the strand around the knotted rope.  The bound women’s backs arching backward as their breasts stretch toward one another, the metal rings stand straight out off their stretched nipples, the hickory bending but holding firm.

       Their cuffed hands flexing behind their necks, saliva drools from both their bright red ‘O’ rings as the rope flexes painfully up between their reddened legs.  The men watch transfixed at the energy of Jo and Jessica as the hooded women still struggle in awkward dances, their chafed thighs continuing to grind over the knots, their breasts stretching in a sadistic tug of war.  Standing to either side of the rope, Jo and Jessica glance toward one another as they raise the switches again.  “Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!”  Back and forth the switches flail downward across the bare breasts, Jo working the left side, Jessica the right.  “Thwack… Thwack!... Thwack!... Thwack!”  More vicious lashings from underneath the connected breasts as the bound women jerk, twist under the blows.  Nipples stretching, the rings twisting with the twisting hickory looped through the slots, multiple welts instantly stretch over and under their bare tit flesh.

       Momentarily stepping aside, Jo and Jessica lower their hickory switches as the struggling women tremble across the springing knotted rope.  Their bound naked body’s beading with perspiration, their colorful tattoos glisten as does their salved, reddened brandings.  Breasts flexing back and forth as they struggle to relieve the pressure of the stretching nipple rings, unable to straighten upward, grunts and groans emanate from their ’O’ rings along with drooling salvia dripping down off their cheeks, across their bowed shoulders.

       Jo glances past the group of men, notices Master DeSade approaching behind them, smartly dressed as he gives her a quick nod.  Handing her switch to the escort, she steps through the group.  Perspiring, her naked body glistening as she takes deep breaths, she hesitates momentarily, glancing back as she reaches the door.  Exiting, almost instantly hearing the sounds commencing of the hickory switches being applied across the bound women’s naked flesh yet again, Jo smiles while gripping Master DeSade’s hand as he shuts the door behind them.

       “Well done Jo.”  He softly speaks.  “I’m proud of you!... You’ve certainly come a long way in a year!... I’m glad you and Jessica got to return some of the treatment to those two.”

       “Thank you Master.”  She answers, her naked, whip marred breasts gently swaying as he slides his arm across her shoulder.  “It’s certainly appreciated!”

       “They’ll be leaving again soon, flown back tomorrow evening, along with the rest of the guests.”  He calmly explains as he glances back toward the closed door.  “But, they’ve still got another hour or so with their session tonight though… And, I’m sure it’ll be a week or maybe even more before they can be returned to actually perform their duties.”  He grins as he lets his hand drop over her shoulder, cupping her right breast.  “So tell me… Which?”

       Glancing upward, she asks.  “Which?... What… Master?”

       “Which has become your favorite?”  Dom or sub?”

       “Either… Either Master!”  She smiles, first instinctively wanting to please him, yet actually realizing it’s becoming the truth.  “With you… Either!”

       “Good Jo!... I’m glad you feel that way!”  He also smiles as he gently rolls her thickening nipple back and forth between his finger and thumb.  “Now for your surprise…  For your first anniversary of being brought here…  Tonight… This very hour, we leave for Holiday in Europe, on the plane… Jessica and Greg are going to take care of the compound while we’re gone.  It’s going to be your first time back on the plane since you’ve arrived here, huh?”

       “Yes Master!”  She continues to smile, obviously excited.  “First time to Europe too!... Tonight… We’re…?”

       “Yeh Jo… To Europe, a big part of it anyway.”  He grins while patting her bare breast as his arm slopes across her shoulder.  “It’s time to take a few months or so and visit some acquaintances of mine on the continent…. Their estates… Their societies.  I’m going to introduce them to you and show you off… Every inch of you!  You’re certainly going to get to really explore your duel psyche in depth during our travels.”

       Having directed her to the garage, to the Land Rover, he adds.  “Our luggage is already aboard the plane, and it’s ready… I’m traveling dressed just like I am… You’re traveling the way you already are too…  Stilettos and nothing else, just naked!... That’s all you’ll need for the next few hours in the air with just the two of us being flown alone.”  Glancing down, giving her firm breast a squeeze, he adds.  “We’ll need to find something to do to pass the time while we’re in the air, won’t we?”

       Shutting the passenger door behind her as she climbs in, he thinks to himself… “Guess what Jo… I have a relaxing beverage and your favorite seat available, just for you!”

FINISH