A riding crop of course!

As her master left the room, she closed her eyes tightly, trying to prepare herself mentally for what was to come. Her thoughts raced frantically as she attempted to steel herself against the impending pain. Her breasts throbbed heavily in their tight bondage, making it difficult for her to breathe freely. The crotch rope seemed to tighten with each passing moment, pulling at her most sensitive areas mercilessly. And her hands, tied painfully behind her back, felt as if they were on the verge of falling off. Despite the mounting discomfort, she tried to focus on the sting of each smack that would soon be raining down on her ass.....or breasts. She wasn't sure how much more she could take, but she knew that she had to endure it if she wanted to earn her master's approval. With a deep breath, she steeled herself for the ordeal that lay ahead. Whatever he brought back to spank her with, she would bear it with as much dignity and pride as she could muster, even if it meant sacrificing her already battered body to his twisted demanding desires.

The minutes dragged on, he was intentionally teasing her knowing her anxiety and her nerves. She could feel her heart racing in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. Images of his past punishments flashed through her mind, each one more brutal than the last. She wondered how much worse this time would be, with her breasts and ass already aching from their previous use. Despite the terror coursing through her veins, she tried to focus on the task at hand. She repeated mantras to herself, reminding herself that this was all for her master's pleasure. That she belonged to him, body and soul. She tried to block out any thoughts of escape, of rebellion. They would only make the coming pain that much worse. Instead, she focused on the feeling of his touch, the heat of his breath against her skin. She imagined how it would feel to please him, to make him happy no matter the cost to herself. It was a twisted form of self-sacrifice, but it was all she had. With each passing moment, she braced herself for the inevitable agony that was to come. But even as she did, she couldn't help but feel a perverse sense of anticipation coursing through her veins. For despite all the pain and humiliation, there was something darkly thrilling about being at her master's mercy, about struggling through to ordeal of offering and submitting her body to his firm use! The way he exploited her black body....fully and purposefully reminding her of her curves, of her blackness! Often teasing her how she was made and built to serve him!

Such intense words! The intense burning shame as she let him have his way.....because he was her White Master!

She loved serving him!

He stepped back into the hallway holding a riding crop! She let out a soft nervous gasp as she immediately knew why he had picked the crop.

It was long and thin, with a handle at one end and a leather strap that could be tightened at the other. She could see the lustful gleam in his eyes as he approached, the crop swinging gently between his fingers. He chuckled darkly, running his eyes over her sweaty, trembling form as he gently caressed her large tied up tits with his crop!

"You knew this was coming, didn't you fuckcow?," he said, slapping the riding crop against his open palm, "Afterall it's how livestock need to be trained, especially filthy black cows!" The words sent a shiver down her spine.

She had always known what kind of Master he was, but hearing him refer to her so bluntly was somehow worse than anything she had experienced before. When he reached out to grasp her hips, she flinched involuntarily. But she didn't resist as he **** her to kneel on the floor once more, her breasts tied tightly with the coarse rope, she pushed her chest out, offering her bare black......udders to her White Master to spank and ****!

She closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the first blow.

**SLAP**

"Ahh!" But as the sting of the riding crop against her bare breast made her gasp in pain, she felt something strange in the pit of her stomach. It was a mixture of fear, shame, and... arousal. Despite the pain, despite the degradation, there was a part of her that found this whole ordeal strangely thrilling. And with that realization came a new sense of resignation. She was his, after all. His to use, his to punish, his to love!

As a result.....she loved him!