I was never more grateful for my appalling slutty responsiveness to backside pain, since even just a couple of dozen swats per cheek by these new implements reduced me to a state of blubbering frenzy by the time my orgasms set me free. Once again, the ice packs were angelic, as my babbling went from desperate pleas for mercy to obsequious gratitude for the immediate relief from the fierce pain of the crisp hard wood kissing my increasingly tender buttocks.
This pattern continued through the testing of a razor strop on my spread thighs, followed by thin and wide tasseled whips that were employed more broadly on the entirety of my backside from calves to waistline. A pair of riding crops were also introduced to that entire area, leaving terrifying welts but producing yet more powerful orgas
