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She trades her soul for a mind-blowing orgasm.

I tended to think of it as foreplay.

She whipped me. It started off lightly enough and I was able to remain still and silent. Unlike other occasions, this did not please her and she began to increase both the speed and the power of the strikes.

She had become quite adept with the belt and it found my back, my front and the sides with equal severity. She rarely hit the same spot twice and I was glad of that. Once was enough!

Very quickly, I found myself grunting and struggling through our 'foreplay'. Reflexively, I had grabbed the ropes that held my arms wide and each time the cruel lash found my helplessly bound body, I found I was pulling hard on them.

As always, the tired clothing offered scant protection. Indeed, wearing what amounted to 'prisoners clothing' added to the feeling of helplessness. I could feel myself becoming aroused.

I was both ashamed of this and eager for it. This was always the way. Dread of what I knew was coming, fighting with a fierce desire to have it happen. It was what psychologists call a 'push/pull'.

She stopped without preamble and I heard the clip of her high heels as she stepped close to my back. Lifting the white undershirt high, I felt her nude front press tightly to my tender back as she reached around and grabbed my still shrunken cock through the cotton pants. She rhythmically squeezed it several times. The effect was electric and I found my cock becoming very hard almost instantly yet again.

While I was sensitive to a good whipping, by itself, it did not turn me on. I had to have her touch my cock in order to achieve an erection. What she did with her hands definitely made for a 'tent city'.

I could feel both her breasts in my back and her mons grinding against my ass through the cotton pants. The woman was as aroused by administering the whip as she was by having me lick her pussy. I felt so lucky!

Her warm breath on my back was followed by the feel of her tongue sliding down my spine. I shook and gasped at the power of such a sensitive gesture.

I heard and felt her step back. The undershirt dropped back down. The belt whistled through the air and impacted loudly against my helpless butt. I gasped and she let me have it again. It was much harder than I was used to.

I gasped and tightened up my stomach and ass against it, in a futile gesture to alleviate the pain. My head hung and I winced. She lashed me even harder!

Finally, I shrieked through the gag and arched away from the cruel pain. She lashed me again and I heard her breathing rapidly and shallowly as she administered my beating. I pulled helplessly against the unyielding restraints but to no avail.

Again, she stopped. But this time I heard the clip of her high heels as she moved over to the 'wall' and replace the belt before returning.

Walking in front of me, it took only the work of a couple of minutes to untie me, strip me down and then retie me in the exact same spread eagled position. The only exception was that this time; I was standing wide on tip toe!

I noticed that she then took the time to carefully fold the 'whites' before turning to go back up the stairs.

Stopping suddenly, she turned and said calmly, "I'll be back to 'stroke' you; after you've been forced to orgasm."

She smiled coldly and turned back. I watched the smooth roll of her nude buttocks as she ascended the stairs.

There I hung, nude, gagged, bound spread eagled and freshly whipped. When Mrs. Sang returned, she was going to continue tormenting me and all I could do was endure it.

I could hardly wait!

Chapter Five

Tormented Climax

After several minutes, I heard her high heels clip across the floor above me as she made her entrance. And what an entrance it was too!

She'd taken the time to fix her hair up and redo her makeup. The bright red Chinese Silk Gown that now adorned her was slit up to the hip.

"The woman must have a closet full of them; each a different color!" I thought wildly, to myself.

Part way down the stairs, she paused to turn and smile a cruel smile at me.

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