Yvette would have fidgeted, but her current circumstances made that impossible. She was naked, fastened securely, face-in, to a saltier cross. She looked over her shoulder nervously at John. That wasn't his real name, of course, but she had to call him something, and, though it was stereotypical, it worked for both of them. John had been a regular customer at Madame Decreaux's brothel for over a year, and he had long since picked Yvette out as his favorite. The establishment catered to a wide variety of desires, but Yvette spent much of her working day in the basement, which served as the dungeon playroom. John paid generously to have his way with Yvette. There was a safeword - unromantically, it was simply "safeword" - and there were security personnel on hand if any of the clients got unruly. That had happened to Yvette before, but never with John. Yvette, like all women in her line of work, was an accomplished actress in her own way. Still, she was good at her submissive role mostly because it was what she enjoyed. Some clients were mere dabblers in sadism. Their pitiful attempts at inflicting pain required her to employ her aforementioned acting talents, conjuring up tearful pleas for mercy. But John invariably brought his A game with him, and he established early on that he wanted honesty rather than playacting. When she cried for him, it was always real, and more often than not, he achieved it, making her pussy simmer as a side effect.
At the end of his last visit, he had remarked that, despite his best efforts, he had not yet wrung the safeword out of her.
She explained, "I've used it with other customers, but usually only with those I don't trust so much. I've known you so long, I doubt there's anything you could do that would make me use it."
"That's a pretty ballsy thing to say, Yvette. Even after all this time, you don't even know my name."
"Names don't matter. I know you pretty well, John."
"Well, I don't see why we don't put that little proposition to the test. I'll bet you your fee I can make you 'tap out.'"
She laughed and said "Now why in the world would I agree to that? I'd be inviting you to do something to me I hate and then not have to pay me? That's stupid."
"No, no, that's not what I mean. I want a fair challenge." He thought for a moment, then continued. "How about this: I'll tie you to that cross over there-" He pointed to the saltier cross as he said this, "and I'll only spank - only on your bottom. My choice of implement, but only what's in this room. And I get a half hour. If I can't make you stop me, I'll pay you double. Otherwise, the regular rate. Deal?"
Her eyes narrowed. She looked over at the rack of equipment on the far wall. It had a thoroughly complete assortment of paddles, whips, canes, tawses... She had, of course, experienced all of them by this point. She ran through the arsenal in her mind quickly trying to calculate whether she could endure a half hour of any of them on her ass. She was worried about the paddles. Surely a savaging from one of them would leave her black and blue for a week.
"Make it triple and you've got a deal. If I win, I'm probably going to need a couple of days off."
He smiled, "You can count on that, Yvette."
--
As she looked back from her vantage point at the end of the room, John reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of currency. He waved it in the air and said, "Here's what we're playing for, Yvette. You outlast me, and it's yours." With that, he walked over to the bed at the opposite side of the room and placed it on top. He then walked over to the equipment rack and selected a round headed leather paddle. Yvette quickly did some mental calculus. That paddle was one of the less harsh implements. If he warmed her up with that, then she stood a much better chance of winning. He walked over to Yvette and stood close by her. He looked her in the face, "Here we are, Yvette. You know where the clock is-" he glanced over to the clock on the wall. Each room in the establishment, naturally, had a clock in it, given the rates were generally hourly. He continued, "It's coming up on 8:30. If you make it to 9:00, you win." He paused for a moment, "And here we go."
With that, he let go a full stroke on the full of her left ass cheek. She was, naturally, quite experienced, and the beginning of a spanking was never much of a surprise. But he clearly was not going easy on her. In spite of her self, she said, "Oh my God," out loud. He smiled and struck again in the exact same spot, bringing an "Ooowwww!" from her. He lashed out again on the same spot a third time, and she screwed her eyes shut and almost succeeded in suppressing a squeal. He paused for a moment, and then unleashed the same sequence of punishment on her opposite ass globe, giving it a matching shade of pink. Yvette tensed her body up with his assault, and when he paused, she relaxed and began to pant.
Yvette saw him reach into his pocket and pull something out, but she couldn't tell what it was. He gave her four quick spanks on each cheek, forcing her to tense up again. As he paused, he reached between her thighs and probed her pussy. It was wet and he chuckled at the discovery. Yvette heard a faint buzzing noise start and then felt the buzz on her clit. She shuddered. He was using a vibrator on her! Her brain was filled with a thousand conflicting voices. Distantly, she knew that he was trying to draw an orgasm out of her quickly... She thought about resisting, but the buzzing on her clit was impossible to ignore. She started to moan and pant. Without warning, the paddle impacted on her ass again and she cried out, momentarily distracted from the pleasurable sensations from her clit. The paddle struck again on the opposite cheek and drew another cry from her, but the insistent buzzing on her clit was urging her towards the inevitable. She started to alternate moans with her panting, and finally tensed up and cried out, "Oh God, yes!" After a moment, she began to relax and sighed deeply. John pulled the buzzing vibrator away from her pussy and grabbed a hank of her hair and twisted her face around to look at his. He stared into her eyes, which were glassy with the pleasurable afterglow, "Very good, Yvette. That only took 4 minutes. And with that out of the way, now the games can begin in earnest."
A pit opened up in her stomach, but she said nothing. He walked back over to the equipment rack and traded the leather paddle for a cane. He swished it in the air a couple of times, testing it. She was certain he did it to try and intimidate her. Ordinarily, it wouldn't, but today, the stakes were higher. She looked over at the clock. 25 minutes still to go. He walked back and took up a position two paces away from her and tapped the cane menacingly on her ass. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. The cane whistled through the air and painted a line of burning fire across the middle of her ass. He gave her no time to react to the first stroke but quickly gave her another, and then a third. She gave up on attempting to track them as the stinging fire built up in her ass, forcing her to cry out. He stopped and she started to cry, mixing her sobs with, "Oh my God!"
He let her calm down for a moment and then moved once again to her side, grabbing her hair to force her to look into his eyes, "You were just about to stop me, weren't you?"
She sniffled, but tried to sound defiant saying, "No," but her voice wavered.