Whipped carrots

Robin smiled and took the wide leather belt from her husband's partner. Paul turned to his wife and pointed to the dinning room table, "Assume the position!"

Heather, without hesitation, moved to the heavy wooden table, bent over it, and grabbed the edge on the opposite side.

"I think 20 strokes should do," Paul moved in close to his wife. He gently stroked her firm ass. "Be sure every stroke hit this lovely flesh. And don't be gentle. If I see you are not giving it your all, you'll take Heather's place!"

Robin had no intentions of getting whipped. She reared back and brought the belt down hard.

"AAHHHHH!" Heather cried out.

"That was good," Paul grabbed Robin's arm before she could administer another stroke, "but I have a little challenge for you, Robin, dear." Paul held up a bowl of glazed baby carrots. They glistened with butter and honey.

He lifted one of the slippery vegetables. "Before every even stroke, I'm going to slip one of these delights up you pussy. Before every odd stroke, one goes up your ass. You need to finish your 20 stokes without dropping any. If you manage to hold them all in, Heather and I will feast on carrots right out of your body. But if you drop even one, well, you get to eat them all while Heather and I fuck your pussy and ass."

With that, the man pushed the first slippery carrot into Robin's pussy. She tightened up, holding it in.

Robin brought the belt down again. Heather cried out. A carrot entered her ass.

Again and again the ritual was repeated. 13...14..15... It was getting more and more difficult to hold the carrots tight. Her pussy, slick with cum, was betraying her.

Another stroke then another, then another - after each, another carrot. Would she make it?

Robin whipped the young wife again; her husband **** another carrot into her already stuffed pussy