Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 17

Anna placed her riding crop on the side of my face. Terror struck me to stone, trembling stone. Her crop slapped my cheek. But, she was just finding her target. In a sudden motion up then down with vicious force, Anna ripped the crop fiercely across my cheek. I gasped and tried to roll away, but was brought short by the chains. A nauseous moan from my gut wrenched my throat. Desolate sobs shook me.

Anna laughed, "Excellent. That left a nice bright red impression of the crop. I am sure that mark will last for weeks, maturing to fine blue black before it fades to yellow. There will be no doubt what it is, an exact silhouette of my crop. Anyone will see that you have had your face slapped with a crop. The imprint is perfectly clear; the portrait of what you are is incontestable. When you are shown in public, what will people think of you? Any woman looking at this face will only see that appalling mark. I hope you won't be too embarrassed.

"That's enough face for today. That was just to give you a taste of how far I will push you. You have done well. Now it is time for your reward. Gina has denied you release for the past three weeks. I will now show you the only way you will be allowed to have orgasms. You may purge your balls of semen only when they are beaten. Lie back and enjoy."

Anna stood between my legs. She scrutinized my throbbing cock and my newly freed balls. She took aim, swung guardedly and connected with a testicle. I screamed, jumped in my chains, and groaned at the jagged, gnawing pain. I was sick; only chains prevented me from doubling over.

"Oh, that was nothing. These balls are such slippery devils. I must restrain them. This strap will hold them tight so that the evil little devils can't hide from me." Anna looped a long leather thong around my scrotal sack and pulled. In one hand, Anna held the crop, in the other the testicular reins. The leather noose squeezed tightly and stretched my balls to the bottom of my distended scrotum.

"These fat balls are all mine now. You can squirm and thrash, but I've got you by the balls. All tied up, your jewels are an easy target no matter how you flail about. You seem to like the prospect. Your nasty cock is still rock hard, despite the purple bruise on its swollen head." Anna tugged and my testicle cords stretched tight.

"I am going to beat your balls now. Enjoy. You are allowed to come. This will be your last chance to spill for a long time, so take advantage. You had better get into the thrill of ball beating, because I don't intend to stop until I see your juice is squirting out all over you. I will assist by being firm and unrelenting. Are you ready, sweet boy? Want to come at last?"

With that, Anna drove her crop down on my balls. Terror arced like lightening. My mind sought refugee in unreality, but alit in a hallucinatory painscape. Nothing after that strike could have been real. Deluges of pain, violent delusions, horror-sex fantasies—the bitch Goddess owed me.

She struck. I shrieked. Between my drawn open legs, the bare breasted nightmare was smiling, staring at my crotch. She strained pulling against the leather strap to raise my balls up and away from my body. She licked her lips, stared intently at my scrotum, and took careful aim. Her smile transmuted to glazed lust.

Strike. Repeat. Fury. Repeat. The specter-women wielded her crop like a jockey flailing her thoroughbred to the finish. My hips bucked a jerking staccato rhythm. Rise, collapse, drive, fail. I thrashed about, wrenching my bound wrists and ankles, but in her hands my manhood was an easy target. She held my balls firmly by the strap and gleefully pounded my balls. Pain screeched a devotional hymn.

I fucked the empty air. My cock flailed about seeking the cunt of the invisible ghoul riding me, my pain banshee. The gnaw in my testicles was like my torture in Gina's mouth, between Gina's teeth, but sharper, harder, more violent, and with each stinging slap of leather on scrotal skin the ache was embossed, inlayed, embedded deeper within. This could not be real.

I rose humping the air, straining against Anna's leash, opening to the severe battering of my groin. The cords within my scrotum suffered a jerky tension between my involuntary, spasmodic twisting and Anna's firm hand on the leather leash clasped to my bound balls. I feared this tension might break me, but I still raised my hips and pulled back against the pressure of Anna's hand. Finally, I opened my knees wide to invite the crop, to beg for more.

The pain transmuted to the purest pleasure, and I released into its maw. Ropes of semen flew into the air. Thick, copious goo weeks accumulated, emptied into the air and plopped in streams on my face, my torso, and into viscous puddles all over the whipping table. My vessel spilled its offering upon Anna's alter.

Anna relented, and the pain slowly ebbed to ache.