Slaver Training-The Auction

(Part 5 from 7)

“Such a lovely ass she has. She trained hard to make it this way, it will only take us minutes to turn it into a mass of pain,” his hands rubbing over her ass cheeks, clenching on the flesh, feeling her tighten under his fingertips. “You’ll soon tire of doing that, Lyn. The pain will make you forget.” He handed Steve a paddle, keeping one for himself. He pushed it in front of Lyn’s eyes, “how do you think this will feel?” showing her the medieval paddle, a sixteen-inch long, three-inch wide wooden paddle with thirty-six metal studs lining it; the traditional headmaster’s paddle in old England. “The only thing you will sit down on for a week will be a hard cock, and it will be up your tight ass,” he laughed at her obvious distress. 

Steve brought out two leather bolsters, each about waist high. They were pushed under the girls’ hips and slid back, forcing their arms up high, but their ass to arch backwards, higher and higher as the boosters slid farther from their bound arms. They stopped when it was over four feet from under their arms, their ravaged breasts hanging down painfully, their asses thrust up in offering to the paddles. Michel ran his hands over Lyn’s ass cheeks, feeling her shudders as she waited for the pain to begin again. “Yes, it is going to hurt, Lyn. Hurt bad. But think of all the pleasure you are bringing me!” He let the paddle run over her soft ass cheeks, feeling her body shake as the metal studs rubbed harshly over her flesh. He stepped back, letting the paddle lightly tap against her ass. “Get ready for the pain, Lyn,” he teased her pain-wracked body. “So much more pain for you.”

The first time the paddle hit the girl’s ass flesh, the roar of the wood hitting their soft skin shattered the quiet of the room. The force of the blow, the hard wooden paddle sinking deeply into firm flesh, metal studs leaving small dents in the skin, pushed the girls’ bodies forward. The pain was immediate and powerful, their asses stinging hotly from the blow, the entire ass feeling the wooden paddle, not like the small leather straps of the flogger. Michael rubbed the paddle over Lyn’s ass, rubbing the metal studs into the hot flesh, letting her get ready for the next blow. 

Lyn felt the paddle leave her ass, pain still radiating from the bruised flesh, her legs tightly together, her ass thrust up in offering, waiting for the next blow. She did not have long to wait, this time the paddle hitting lower, catching her on her upper thighs, the tender skin not use to such brutal treatment, the angle of the blow forcing the metal studs to criss-cross her thighs, tearing tender flesh as they moved harshly. And the girls began to sing again, their cries hoarse and raspy, but nevertheless, just as loud as before. 

Michael and Steve continued to rain blow after blow on the ass flesh before them, stopping only long enough to pull the panties down, already torn and hanging in remnants from their bodies. A quick rub of the studded paddle over naked flesh and the paddling began again. The tightened legs, serving to hide their sex from the prying eyes were quickly forgotten as the pain increased, their asses raising up and down in pain, almost as if they were fucking something beneath them. Their pussies peeked out from beneath their legs, the upturned ass giving the audience a quick look at the puffy lips from behind. Michael and Steve let the paddle move up and down their posteriors, moving from the top of their ass cheeks to lower down on their thighs, the pain more overpowering on the tender inner thighs. Another fifteen minutes of sobbing, crying and pleading only broken by the murmur of the paddle and the thud as it landed so expertly on the intended spot. Finally, they stopped again, hands rubbing the hot flesh, feeling the girls flinch each time a calloused hand rubbed the reddened and inflamed flesh.

“Catch your breath, Lyn. You’re doing such a good job. Just one more place, Lyn. It’s time to whip your pussy. If you thought the breast whipping and the paddling were painful, they will be nothing compared to this. You have never felt anything like this before. Take a deep breath and prepare yourself while we get your bodies in the right position. We want you open and spread.” Michael looked in her tear-stained face, her sobs pleasing him; knowing her cries of pain will please him even more.

The bolsters were removed, the girls’ pain-wracked bodies hanging by their arms, their legs barely able to hold them upright. “Don’t worry, Lyn, we will make sure you stand upright,” laughing as thick rope hanging from the overhead pulley were attached to one of each of their ankles.

Lyn knew what they had planned to do, not surprised as she let her left leg relax, feeling the rope slowly pulling her leg up by the ankle, bending her knee to allow the upward movement. She groaned in pain, her sore ass flesh pulled, igniting fresh pain. Her crotch began to split, the painful aching beginning in her sex as her leg was pulled up almost as high as her arms, her pussy and anus now so obscenely exposed to the audience and also to the whip that they planned to use. She was balanced on one foot, unable to escape Michael’s cruel plan.

Michael picked up the Stinger Flogger, a nice black and red flogger twenty-five strand fall, three feel long, that would leave no nook or cranny untouched. The spread of their legs left their pussy lips pulled back, the soft, pink insides exposed, their tiny anuses peeking out, unsuspecting of the pain that the strands would inflict on the tiny puckered openings. Michael let the strands run up and down her slit, letting her juices coat the leather, making them more pliable. “You may scream in pain but your pussy is still wet. I think you like the pain a little too much, Lyn. And, that’s good, Lyn, because as soon as you are sold, I have so many interesting devices that will keep your body on the edge of pain. Imagine electricity racing through your body, jolting your nipples and breasts, electrified probes placed in your vagina and anal tract, shooting varying jolts of electricity into your internal organs. How about the feel of large dildos or butt plugs spreading you wide open? So much more pain I can give you Lyn. But now, for your pussy. Scream as loud as you want, Lyn. Or better yet, as loud as I want.”

Both men stepped back swinging underhand, the whip flying up from the floor between the girls’ legs, slapping at the exposed flesh with a loud explosion, the twenty-five strands going their separate ways, each intent on inflicting the maximum amount of pain, each succeeding in their purpose. The girls jumped on one foot, the force of the blow making them jerk upward. This time it was Michelle that screamed first, Steve’s first blow lucky, two strands pushing aside her pussy lips, a single powerful strand driving straight through the slit to hit her directly on her swollen clit. The pain must have been incredibly intense the way her body danced on the rope, her screams continuous, Steve so impressed with his first blow he rained blow after blow on her pussy, leaving her no time to even catch her breath. Michael was more patient, knowing that it was much more painful to let the victim feel the full impact of the blow, letting them wait for the next, the waiting almost as bad as the pain itself and then allowing the next blow to come only after the pain of the previous had somewhat diminished. This left Lyn’s body always on edge, either feeling the pain or waiting for it, both just as bad.

They stopped at only five blows, not wanting to wear the girls out, they had so much more their owners would want to inflict on them. They cried loudly as the bidding started and, as Michael had planned and predicted, the Japanese millionaires bought Lyn and Michelle for over $300,000. All three were over sixty years old, agreeing to rent out the Michael’s torture furniture and room for three days before taking the girls away. Michael would be available to show them the correct use of the elaborate equipment. As they moved from the room, Michael grabbed Lyn by her sex, his fingers digging painfully into her whipped pussy, “did you like that Lyn? Did you like me beating your pussy? It made my cock hard,” laughing at the pain he ignited in her body with his massive hands.

“And now for our final selection, a rare mother and daughter pair. Sara is thirty-six years old, her young daughter just eighteen. They have been with us the longest and we have raped them numerous times. Both respond well to pain, their bodies tightening up and giving a very pleasurable fuck, their cunts and assholes have excellent grip and will provide excellent service. The good thing about mother and daughter packages is that you can induce one to perform in order for her to spare the other from a similar fate. Each would rather accept the pain then force the other to take it. This will provide many hours of pleasure in playing them back and forth.”

The audience’s gaze shifted from Michael to the side of the stage as first Sara, then Becky were brought in. They both wore four-inch high heels, strapped to their ankles to make sure they would not fall off and a pair of low-cut panties. That was all, their naked bodies already covered in a sheen of sweat from the bright lights, highlighting their naked skin. Steve was behind them, a black riding crop slapping harshly against their ass cheeks when they would try to stop, urging them into the center of the stage for inspection.

Sara looked so inviting, her ample breasts still standing proudly even after giving birth to Becky, her pink nipples surrounded by a dark brown areola that seemed to paint them like a target, something that Michael planned to take great advantage of. Her abdomen had little excess weight, taut from vigorous exercise, the same for her ass, the tiny panties stretched tightly over her cheeks. Becky followed her mother, a bright red ball gag stuffed tightly in her mouth, leather straps running around her head, keeping it in place, drips of saliva hanging from the corner of her mouth. Her tits stood up high on her body, her nipples pointed and erect, easy targets for Michael’s cruelty. The four-inch heels highlighted her muscular legs, leading up to a gorgeous ass, her thin panties clinging to every nook and cranny of her body. A grunt from her lips and she moved forward again, Steve’s whip keeping her body on edge, bracing for the sting of the leather on her naked skin.

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