Jeannie

Jeannie moaned into her ball gag as her Master beat her imprisoned sex. She lay naked on the cold concrete basement floor, covered in angry red welts, her hands by her head, cuffed by the wrists to the thick leather collar around her neck. The cruel clamps around her nipples had become unbearable an hour ago, only a few minutes after Master had placed them there. Her modest breasts were especially bruised - Master liked the knowledge that Jeannie's breasts would be sore every time she wore a bra for days after these little sessions. The sharp kiss of Master's riding crop had made its way down Jeannie's flat stomach, the red marks it left on Jeannie's flesh now joining the garish belly button piercing Master had given to her for her birthday.

The cruellest part of Master's beatings, Jeannie would reflect later when the pain wasn't so immediate, was that on some level Jeannie always had to accept them. So it was this time as she lay on the floor of Master's basement that her legs were unbound, but nevertheless she had to keep them spread wide as he had beaten her milky thighs, leaving a criss-cross pattern of shameful scarlet welts. But that had just been the warm up, and Jeannie's legs had trembled with her fear as she forced herself to keep them spread wide to receive the first blow Master landed on her balls.

She screamed into her rubber ball gag again and again as the man who had brutally transformed John into Jeannie now viciously beat the last reminder that she had once been a man. The riding crop flicked between each testicle, and teased the chain around Jeannie's scrotum which connected to the base of the small metal tube which imprisoned her cock. The red flesh of her cock head, which peaked out of the tiny tube which ensured that Jeannie could never become erect, was kissed ever so painfully by Master's crop, eliciting sobs and tears from Jeannie behind her gag.

The chastity device somehow made Jeannie even more naked, even more vulnerable, as she lay there. It was decorated like it was a piece of teen-girlie jewellery, with a metallic pink butterfly worked delicately into the design. Jeannie's belly button ring matched it perfectly. That was why her cheeks burnt with shame as she forced herself to smile for Master upon opening her birthday present. Now, as she lay on the floor, keeping her legs spread apart by force of will to demonstrate her submission and total dedication to her Master, Jeannie's cheeks burnt not just with shame, but with the sting of slaps from Master's big, thick hands.

Jeannie's balls felt swollen to three times their usual size as the blows from Master's riding crop finally subsided. Master stood up, and spat on Jeannie as he unzipped his fly. She looked up at him through her tears, still sobbing and shuddering from the sickening pain she felt deep in her stomach from her beaten balls, but even through those tears Master could never mistake the look of submissive lust in her eyes. He decided to make her wait a little longer for his cock as he undid his belt and slipped out of his trousers. He still held the belt in one hand as he spoke to her, which sent fresh waves of fear through Jeannie's aching slave flesh.

"Kneel, slut." Master commanded.

It was hard for Jeannie to get up, with her hands restrained, but she rolled awkwardly onto her stomach and then forced herself to her knees. Her thighs and groin tortured her with the effort. She looked up at him with adoring eyes, desperate with her need, although the tears streaked her mascara down her cheeks. Master slapped her hard across the face, knocking her onto the floor on her side.

"You dare look at me?" Master raged at her. "A slave's eyes should be downcast, you lowly bitch!"

With that he started to viciously whip her naked flank with his belt. After a few heavy strokes, under the force of which she squirmed and trembled, he kicked her in the stomach and then rolled her with his foot so that she was face down on the floor. In desperation she begged into her gag, but she knew her pleading was futile.

"On your knees, forehead touching the floor." Master commanded.

She knew the position well and forced her aching body to comply. Other than the few marks on her flank from the belt, Jeannie's back was almost unblemished. Master began to whip her, starting at her shoulder blades, and slowly moving down her spine until he reached her perfect ass. Master then bent over her naked form, squeezing her peachy left buttock in one hand as he unfastened her gag with the other. Her sobs were unmuffled at last.

"I am going to give you twenty strokes on the back of your thighs and on your ass, slut, for daring to look up at your Master without being told to do so." he informed her. "You will count each stroke off after receiving it, thank me, and ask for another. If you forget to do so, we'll start again from scratch."

"Master, yes, Master." she whimpered in what she hoped was a clear voice. The first blow was vicious, falling much more heavily on her pert behind than the riding crop had ever fallen on her balls. Her scream echoed about the basement. "...oone.... one... Master, thank you Master. Master, may I have another, Master?"

Master obliged, this time cutting across the tops of her thighs.

"Two.... Master, thank you Master... Master, may I have another, please Master?"

The blows fell, one after the other, each one harder, Master seemingly exhorted to greater and greater efforts by the appearance of angrier and angrier welts on Jeannie's slave flesh. Finally, the twentieth stroke landed right where Jeannie's buttocks met her thighs, catching the back of her swollen balls. Jeannie didn't even have the air to scream for three seconds, and then began to sob a new.

"Tw... twenty... Mas... Master... thank... you... Master." she gasped, on the verge of collapse.

Master let her gather her breath for a few seconds.

"Poor, poor Jeannie." he said, dangling the belt over her tortured flesh, making her squirm. "Just because I only said twenty strokes doesn't mean you shouldn't have asked me for another after the twentieth."

"Please, Master...." Jeannie gasped desperately, her eyes wide with fear. "Please, Master, may I have another, Master?"

"Yes, my little slave slut." Master smiled and told her. "And another nineteen after that, too."

Jeannie mewled pathetically as the belt swooshed through the air and bit into the burning red flesh of her ass for the twenty-first time that night.

"One...." Jeannie sobbed. "Master, thank you Master... Master, may I have another, please, please Master?"