There was not a muscle in me that didn’t ache, that didn’t scream for relief. But the only relief I would know was through the long steady shower of pain that rained down on me from the wooden slat and then a conductor’s baton she found in Preston’s satchel. She whipped my ass and shoulders soundly, waiting for me to let loose with a scream. I wouldn’t give her that thrill, but bit my lips, sucked in and made the pain arouse me. When I wouldn’t cry, she changed her target and paddled my t**s with the molding. She thwacked them hard on top and from the bottom with dozens of stinging, white-hot smacks. The pain continued relentlessly, tearing at me anew with each blow that landed.
When that wasn’t enough, she started in on my pubis, reaching underneath with first the baton, then the slat o
