Whipping begins

When Mark arrived, he knocked on the door, and I quickly opened it, “Wow,” he said quickly. “So, not only have you managed to convince your daughter to be surgically modified for your pleasure, but now Julie, too?”

My father nodded as Mark kissed me, “Yeah, and Julie has already breached her contract, so she’s about to get flogged,” he said, picking up a leather flogger and handing it to Mark.

“You want me to?” Mark asked.

Dad nodded, “You need to learn if you want to join our little club. Julie, stand here, hands covering your crotch; this time, we will flog your back. Break the rules again, and we will flog your front. Kimmie, suck my cock while your boyfriend learns how to punish misbehaving slaves.” He turned to Mark, “Now you should target the meaty bits only,” he touched Julie’s shoulders and arse. “And while you do that, Kimmie.” Dad stepped away to the couch, and I obediently straddled his lap, facing Julie, and Mark, again taking my father’s cock in me.

Mark pulled his arm back to the side and lashed it across Julie’s arse cheeks. Julie yelped, but it quickly grew into a moan. “You will waste a lot of energy doing single strikes like that,” my father said, grabbing my waist and pulling me down on his cock. “Round motions, use the wrist.”

Mark paused for a moment, “Won’t that lack the power to be a punishment?” he asked.

Dad laughed, “I’ve been punishing slaves since before Kimmie was born, trust me.” I groaned at his words and thought to myself that I would need to misbehave at some point.

Mark tried again, using more of a round action with his wrist going across Julie’s back and striking one shoulder blade. She yelped and moaned again. This time, Mark didn’t stop; he continued the motion and moved the whip back up to slap her other shoulder. “Better,” Dad said.

He continued for a while, getting more graceful with his strokes. Each time, Julie yelped and moaned but stood perfectly still. “This is easier,” Mark said as he started to speed up. What went from one stroke every second or two soon became a constant rain of blows against Julie’s shoulders and arse.

“You know,” my father said, “When Jethro joined the club, I used to fantasise about you joining the club. I never thought you would be so willing and let us modify you.”

“What did you think I would do Daddy?” I asked as I slowly rode his mammoth cock.

“I thought you would do parties and get a tattoo, not that you would go all in,” he said.

I just watched for a few moments before asking, “And where did you fantasise me getting my tattoo?” I could see Julie was sweating, and her cries were becoming more yelps of pain and less pleasurable.

“See, Mark, a number of lashes are key. Iit stops you from wearing out too quickly, and each one gets more sensitive,” my father continued his instruction. “Well, it changed, most commonly on your arse or hip. Sometimes I would imagine you getting it right in the centre of your tit.”

I moaned, “You could still brand my tit,” I suggested.

“And ruin your glorious nipple. No, I think here.” He touched my pubic mound, just above my slit. “It will be a good reminder of who you belong to when taking cock. I think that’s enough Mark. Put it down, and then feel free to use Julie.”

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