Every eye in the entire bar has turned to checkout this vision of beauty. My cock is ready to EXPLODE just seeing her, dressed to kill in the slinky, shiny, skin tight latex outfit. She torments me all night, strutting around, whispering little things in my ear just trying to get me to crack in front of everyone. After the longest evening at work I finally hear the magical announcement ?:LAST CALL?. I know to myself that even though what is going to happen for the rest of the weekend is going to be hell, I wouldn’t trade a second of it for anything. My phone vibrates and I think who in the hell is texting me at this hour. When I look its from my Mistress. She tells me to drive to her house, enter the back porch and wait for further instructions. As I entered my car it was all I could do to sit, my cock is at its bursting point while still trapped in its prison. I’ve driven to Chicago and felt it took less time than the actual 30 Minute drive to serve my Mistress. As I. A pause, then a third strike, I whimper again. It will get much, much worse. A fourth, a fifth, a tenth. I whimper with each strike. He stops.I catch my breath. I see him on my right side now. I shudder. It will be my front now. He draws his arm back and strikes, before I can close my eyes. I scream. My right breast is on fire. The crop hit the top of my mound. I cannot help it and look down, to see the angry red stripe, crossing the front of my breast. He pauses, to let it sink. I know the drill; nine more on my right breast; the last three on the sensitive areola and the last one smack on the nipple. Again the crop falls, and again I scream; two stripes cross my breast, then three, then four; each one closer to my nipple; each one more painful, my screams more shrill, more pitiful. The fifth takes my breast at the bottom, where it joins my chest, then the sixth and the seventh. Sweat mixes with my tears. I have lost count, but Parker reminds me."The last three" He tells me, letting.
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