Sweat was trickling down my cleavage and into my corset.
His muffled screams were stifled by the ball gag as he frantically tugged at the straps restraining him to the frame.
I selected a riding crop from the equipment table. He tensed as I ran the leather tress across his naked buttocks.
I was ready. I took aim.
THWACK!
"How many times …"
THWACK!
“… do I have to tell you?"
THWACK!
“You are supposed to leave …"
THWACK!
"… two pints of milk …”
THWACK!
"… every fucking day!"
