Dawn at the Vineyard

Without warning, the whip struck the girl’s tender breasts. My whimper echoed Traci’s as I imagined the cruel leather biting into my erect nipples. Four more blows followed in rapid succession. I watched angry red streaks appear across the delicate skin and expected to see a grimace on the girl’s face. Instead, I saw what seemed to be lust. It looked as if the pain was pleasurable.
A series of perhaps fifteen blows followed, striking across the girl’s breasts, abdomen and thighs. Traci’s eyes closed, her body trembled. Red streaks fairly covered her front. Each bite of the leather tails elicited a shuddering whimper.