Whipped raw

The sound of the door opening wakes you from your day-long reverie. Your captor is back. He walks to the table, sets down a box of pizza.

"Face down, ass up on the bed, sweet tits."

You gasp. You've been dreaming of him all day. Has he been thinking of you?

Left wrist still handcuffed to the frame, you climb naked onto the bed. You press your freckled shoulders and round breasts into the mattress. Your knees go underneath you, thrusting your curvy ass up for his gaze, his want, his approval.

There is a sound of leather on fabric.

"You know," he says. "I still haven't heard an apology I believe."

"I'm sorry, sir..."

WHIP His belt cracks into your asscheeks.

"I'm sorry sir," you start speaking faster. "I'm sorry I hit you."

WHIP

"I'm sorry sir. I'm sorry master."

WHIP

You start crying. "Please..."

WHIP

"Please fuck me."

WHIP

"Please fuck me sir."

WHIP

You sob.

WHIP

"You've been bad," he prompts.

"I've been bad," you say hoarsely.

WHIP

"I've been bad; I'll be good."

WHIP

"I'm a bad little bitch."

WHIP

"I deserve to be punished."

WHIP

"I deserve to be punished, sir."

WHIP

"Please harder."

WHIP

"Punish me harder, sir."

WHIP

"Destroy me."

There is no sound.

Your womb craves his seed.

His hands grab your hips and his cock rams your whipped little cunt from behind. You moan in lust and gratitude and pain. He fucks you.