The Post 2

Raven clung to the pole as if it might offer her vulnerable body some refuge from her Master’s whip. She held tightly to the straps that tied her wrists and pressed the ancient wooden pole with her knees. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could and turned her face away from Coyote. And still the blow came down on her exposed back.

Coyote took the time to admire the sight of his trembling suspended slavegirl. The bottoms of her bare feet were dirty; her legs and ass perfectly shaped. He could see the muscles straining in her arms and back as she pulled at the straps that held her arms above her head. Then he stepped forward and brought the whip down across Raven’s back.

Raven’s self control was consumed by the first caress of her master’s whip. Fire raced down her back as the blades bit into her shoulder, back and the upper curves of her ass. Her body tried to retreat from the sharp stinging pain, but her violent wincing only served to rake her nipples across the rough wood of the post. And in the midst of those physical pains, Raven’s body betrayed her further and arching her back, she began grinding her wet cunt against the pole, where the same action by so many bound girls over the century had worn the wood smooth. That bit of pleasure warred with that pain in her back and the slave tried to force all of her awareness into that pleasure as she waited for the second blow.

Coyote watched the girl writhing and rubbing her pussy into the post. A swath of pink skin abraded by the whip now marred her back. He listened to her breathing and didn’t know if her moans were from pain or ecstasy.

After a few more strokes of her master’s whip, Raven’s back was a uniform shade of pink crossed by a few thin red welts. But the girl no longer registered the heat in her back as pain as she humped the pole desperate for release. The rubbing of her tits and hard wrinkled nipples against the rough wood was now a deliberate search for sensation.

Coyote again had to resist the urge to take his slave down and fuck her as she was. He stepped behind her close enough to smell her arousal and feel the warmth emanating from her body. She moaned softly as she continued arching her back and struggling. But she didn’t struggle against her bondage; she struggled to press more of her flesh against the hard wood.

Dropping his whip, he put his fingers in Raven’s hair and pulled her head back. Her mouth opened in a silent moan as Coyote lowered his face to the side of her neck and kissed her lightly.

His other hand reached up and roughly grabbed Raven’s breast, squeezing and kneading it hard with his strong fingers. She felt his open palm on her raw nipple, then his fingers closed around her pulling at her tit until the nipple was caught between his finger and thumb and Coyote pinched hard. Even as he hurt her, Coyote’s touch added to Raven’s desire to come. Then his hand was sliding smoothly down her belly and interjecting itself between the swollen lips of her wet cunt and the pole. She shuddered as his middle finger slid along her clit and between her labia into her pussy and she cried out as she came against his hand.

Raven’s cunt contracted around Coyote’s finger as he slid it into her. Her wetness flowed around his finger into his palm and inspired him to finger her cunt roughly for a second. Then he stopped and allowed his slave to recover.

The pain from her flogging rushed back into Raven’s awareness of her body as the sensations in her cunt peaked and then subsided. She was aware that her master now stood beside her, with two fingers motionless in her wet pussy, her weight supported by his other hand as she slumped back, held upright only by the bonds around her wrists and legs. Her back ached horribly and stung like needles imbedded in her soft bare skin.

Coyote kissed his sweating panting slave on her shoulder, still looking at her marred back. He touched one of the red welts that stood out from her pink abraded skin and slowly traced the line his whip had left.

To Raven’s back it was as if the whip caressed her again, somehow gentle and excruciating at the same time. She opened her mouth to cry out as she wrestled with the pain in her back, her master’s lips softly pressed her shoulder and his fingers resuming their gentle massage inside that part of her that was solely his. That thought, that her cunt was solely Coyote’s, that her suffering pleased him, pleased enough to finger her and allow her to come pushed her over that edge again. As she came again, she cried out and tried to close her legs over her master’s hand, the words echoed in her mind. “I please my master…I please my master.”

Coyote’s every sense was involved in his slave. The pink flush of her perfect skin, the expression on her beautiful face, the soft cries that escaped her throat, the wet sucking sounds of his fingers in her cunt, the warmth of her skin, her wetness escaping around his fingers into his palm, the smell of her skin and of her arousal, the taste of her skin. These senses assaulted Coyote and as he reached around the post to the ring and freed her legs from the leather straps, he lost the struggle against his own lusts.