From Jenny to Mei Ch. 12

"Master, get your whip and beat me." She was surprised by her own ingenuity and was pleased by the sound of it. "I'm still too much of a dirty whore."

He was about to ask her to say it again, but he had heard correctly. She wanted him to witness her complete subservience, her total surrender. She wanted to be ground down to powder for him to remake as he wanted. "Whip me," she purred, "Don't be afraid."

'My god,' he thought, 'either she has gone completely around the bend into BDSM madness or she wants me to relish her pain. Wow, that's either so sweet or completely psychopathic.'

"I need to free you of the straps Mei, to get at your back and ass... Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, all over."

The music thumped along, the dildo working her like a slow motion smith at his anvil. The machine was timed perfectly to the beat, reaching its peak within her about once a second.

He set the flog on her lap and unbound her hands, removed the straps and the back rest from its holes.

He brought her hands above her head. "Hold them there," he said and put the handle of the flog in her mouth to hold. He walked to the bench, got some rope and wrist cuffs and returned. He threw one end of the rope over a ceiling truss, tied a slip knot and pulled tight.

"I knew whipping the bitch out of you would take more than one session. You might have a lot of bitch left in you slut."

The music droned on, pushing his love into her with every measure.

"I still feel like such a whore, master. Please help me. Drive that bitch out of me for good."

He put the canvas cuffs on her, connected together with two steel rings stitched to the fabric and leather buckles to cinch her in tight. He pulled the rope through the rings, set a quick release knot and wasted the remaining rope in twists and foldings.

"You can leave a scar if you want to," she pleaded. "It would be like my jewelry, a mark of your love for me."

"How bad are you, Mei? How much Jenny to you feel?"

"I thought about taking the thumb drive and leaving you, turning you in. I am so bad. Such an ungrateful whore. Whip me till I'm clean."

He brought the flog powerfully across her breasts with a firm courageous blow. It crackled as it struck her soft flesh with terrifying pain that caused her to flinch and scream.

"Fuck!" She jerked, winced, bit her lip, and huffed for air between her nearly closed lips. She panted for thirty seconds, letting the burn ease out of her skin.

He let her recover, then asked, "When was this?"

"Sunday, last Sunday."

He stood there, the music loud and driving on. He pretended to be angry but Sunday was like the Paleolithic era to Philip, and frankly had she not considered taking the bait he would have been disappointed. He had expected a confession at some point and was very pleased that she thought it treacherous enough to hide.

"And would you do something like that now, Mei?"

"Never, never... I only want to be your slave, the whore you fuck in the ass and your sweet princess."

"You need to be pure to be my princess."

"Yes! Do it... make me cry."

He'd gotten the horse whip as she spoke and tapped it on her breast.

She recognized it and longed for the short sharp slap. Then it came down hard on her nipple.

"Fuck!" she screamed again.

"No cursing slut," 'Smack!' He hit the same one again and she twisted on the rope trying to hide her nipple from another blow. And still the music kept its tempo and the cock kept pushing her apart.

These were not practice strokes or love taps, they had his strength behind them.

"Again," she implored and he did, this time with the flog along the top of her thighs. She jumped and screamed a great howling scream.

'Smack!', 'Smack!' on her back and shoulders, red marks blossoming on her soft skin.

"Jesus! Fucking Christ! Oh fuck, Philip, you really do love me! It's so goddamn good. Don't ever stop loving me, being my master!"

"Yes, baby. You'll always be my slave." Smack! Smack!

"Fuck!" she cried. "Yes. Have my pain, it's all I have to give."

Smack with the horse whip then a swooshing slap with the flog to her back. He dropped the flog and spanked her ass with his open hand again and again.

She wailed in pain, arched her back to let him spank her ass and hopped on the dildo. Her torso went rigid, her head thrust forward and her thigh muscles burned as the orgasm consumed her and the room echoed with her screams.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck... goddammit, master," she yelled, then as she came down said, "Please hold on for a second." She panted for a few moments, and said, "See what a bitch I am? I can't stop cussing," tears streaked from under the mask. "You'd better gag me."

He got the ball gag, shoved it in her mouth, buckled it tight behind the hood and began to whip her in time to the music. Strong, hard delectably painful strikes that made flashes of lighting pass before her hooded eyes. He ripped her again and again, impact after searing impact, each more painful and cleansing than the last. Calves, hips, back, arms and breasts, each wallop brought the pain to a new level, each left its mark.

With each loving strike Mei was marched to another place. Prodded forward by his beating. Further and further away she marched until she felt herself leave her body. She was owned by him, tormented by him, tortured and whipped by him; the moment could not be any sweeter. She surrendered all and was made lighter with each stroke and still the maddening music thumped along, the dancer now naked, the hands of the soldiers all over her, ecstasy on her face.

Mei was ascending, the Phoenix, at once on fire and flying free, soaring in the heavens and bound like a slave. And the music played on, the crop and flog now just two more instruments in the orchestra. They beat against her body like the sticks against the snare drum, sounding the call to march onward.

One last wicked slash of the flog along her back sparked another orgasm, the two sensations of pain and pleasure fused into one.

She felt him slacken his pace, decrease the power of his blows. More caresses now with only cursory strikes, symbolic and not meant for pain. She must be clean now, she thought, otherwise her master wouldn't be finished. He knew everything, all her secrets, all her sins and he'd forgiven her, he loved her. He found her love for him hidden away beneath the corpse of the love she had for her father. He resurrected it, breathed spirit into it and made it his own. With this pain he took the ache of an empty heart away. With this machine he was pumping life into her womb. She felt so good. And the lovely music continued to carry her away. She was held by the outstretched hands of the soldiers, marched off to some filthy barn where she would be taken by each one of them in turn.

Philip saw the contentment in the way her head was tilted back and imagined her eyes behind the mask, glassy and looking at the ceiling.

He knew her mind was experiencing extreme cognitive dissonance, trying desperately to justify the pain. It was saying to her, 'You're being whipped by a man you love and you're enjoying it immensely. He is absolving you and cleansing you. He is transforming you into a more perfect woman.'

This was how the army instilled devotion and loyalty in its recruits and why fraternities hazed their pledges. When one submits to an intensely unpleasant experience voluntarily, the mind magnifies the importance of the organization or person inflicting the pain, rather than abandon concepts of its own self-worth. This was the basis of real transformation, be it called induction, initiation or brainwashing.

She felt the gag pulled from between her teeth and she heard him say, "open wide." She complied, then felt something new at her lips, hard. It pried open her mouth. It was more uncomfortable than the ball, which was just right. It was round and wrapped in leather and forced her to keep her mouth open. She breathed in and felt the inside of her cheeks and tongue cool with the evaporation. She almost fainted when she realized what it was, it was a ring keeping her mouth completely gaping wide for him, so he could shove himself as deep into her as he wanted. The vulnerability gave her a new head-spinning, battery-licking, reality-shifting quake again. Maybe he would spit in her mouth, she thought.

She'd already come so many times during the whipping that it seemed she was riding again on that deep ocean that packed them in sets of swells that lifted her repeatedly. But this time it wasn't peaceful and serene like it had been. It was a force, real and physical.

She felt his will, his power, driving into her; could hear it in the demands of the rhythm. The drumbeat within the music, the thrust of the dildo and his control of her fused into a perfect erotic trinity, indistinguishable and unified.

She had become the dancing maiden, seducing and relenting.

He was naked, standing on the machine before her hooded and bound body, her gaping pink mouth defenseless. "Hard this time, Mei. It's going to be hard."

It didn't matter what he said, she wanted it and responded as best she could with a nod of assent and she felt him on her tongue.

"You're so clean now my princess. Not a hint of Jenny anywhere in you."

The feeling was so wonderful. So pure; she felt white and glowing. Heart radiating love for him so that she felt her soul pass through her skin and grasp him. His perfect cock, the tool that would deliver his love, needed to be completely inside of her. It needed to fill her with its proof.

There were only a few minutes left in the routine so he couldn't ride it out, play his cock around her mouth as he wanted to. Anyway, she'd been riding one orgasm after another for some minutes and he was having difficulty controlling the urge to come. He grabbed the hood with both hands and savagely pushed his hips forward. He felt the resistance at the back of her throat but pushed past, letting her gagging contractions massage his cock head. He counted to ten, letting her panic increase, saw her buck and shake with another crashing wave of orgasm then withdrew to let her pant and drool. The nonsensical gibbering she was creating with her vocal cords and wildly gesticulating tongue, could have been ecstasy or a desperate plea to stop, but he wasn't interested in details. He knew whatever she might want at this instant she hungered for him to take everything from her.

Her breath was labored and taken in gulps. He shoved in again and paused at the deepest point, enjoying the squeeze her gag gave him. He began to thrust deep and strong along with the tempo of the music and joined with the machine in the dual fucking. He started to quietly say 'forty-four' each time his pubic bone pressed her nose.

Mei lost her mind. She became a radiant spirit floating and detached, witnessing him violate her so sweetly, taking his pleasure in her body with a pure greed. She saw the fierce need in his face, his total concentration on squeezing every iota of pleasure out of her. She saw herself as simply an object, without even a face beneath the hood, red marks all over her body, so lovely, so perfectly his possession. She witnessed each orgasm her body suffered as his gift to her physical self. His gift to her that was now a continuous shuddering orgasm. She wasn't indifferent to her body, but the sensual self was like the tower to which her soul was tethered, floating above it like a kite on a golden string.

She heard the number he kept repeating to her. Saw it as large as a two story building, twenty-foot high neon, pulsating in a fiery red. Rather than a common number it seemed to hold some kind of presence, as though the numbers were alive and throbbing. They seemed to will her back down inside herself, telling her she was missing something too special to be lost by dawdling in the clouds. Her consciousness snapped back into her like the suction of a hose grabbing flesh. Indeed, it was something not to be missed. She was getting the fucking of a lifetime, throat full of cock, pussy rammed by a big hard dildo and this incessant music fucking her ears.

With her mind returned to her, Mei had a new perspective. Amid the tumult of the contractions that wracked her body, the shivering that shook her spine, she found a parallel quiet, a confidence and a peace. She willed herself to relax, stop gagging and open to him and it worked. She took great pleasure in his thrusting, in inspiring his lust, in being objectified like this. She felt him push and pull, felt his hardness, anticipated his thrust and made her throat a new cunt for him. She was complete, satisfied and whole like this.

Each time she heard him say forty-four, his bushy hair ticking her nose and the sense of fullness in her throat, she felt her cunt contract and the now routine orgasm sprout and shoot like a bottle rocket to explode in her brain. They were coming so fast now, so regular that they were not distinct events but simply bumps on a washboard road.

Philip had never dreamt it could be so magnificent. He truly possessed her, fucking her this way, only for himself. Besides the physical sensation, the knowledge that she was giving to him touched him so deeply he felt his heart fuse to her, felt the awesome responsibility to provide and care for her. She was his in the most profound sense. She was his possession and, being able to have anything he wanted, he wanted nothing but her.

The music was reaching its conclusion and the program would halt. He felt the moment and sped his fucking to merge with the music. He left Ravel behind and began to jab into her, his orgasm moments away. 'Fuck it was so good... so goddamn delicious.'

Mei's heart rose with his tempo. Her mind full of the words, 'Yes, Yes, Yes, do it, honey. Bless me with your semen. All the way down. Do it in my throat and force it down."

Forty-four was his mantra and he repeated with each thrust. There was no time left, three, maybe four more and he would let go. Her grunts and moaning were too fucking much and one stroke, two strokes, and pulled her head on to him in a death grip, shoving all of himself into her, as deep as humanly possible, then unloaded, spurting again and again. He held her against his mound but she didn't gag, didn't cough or choke. She totally surrendered and he filled her, taking his time, pumping his muscles, flexing his cock in her and finally relenting.

He nearly fell to the seat as the music stopped, the machine halted and Mei, hooded and drooling his semen over her lap, held her chin up and licked around her the ring gag with her tongue. She was showing him, proudly displaying what she had won from him. Then she lifted her chin and he saw her throat contract. She was gulping down the rest, that which she could get to the back of her mouth.

He was utterly spent, totally gobsmacked at what a spectacular woman this was. He stood, untied the ring gag and took off the hood. She flexed her jaw then closed her mouth to swallow and said, "Wow."

He embraced her, ran his hands over her body, seeing the red welts and wales on her skin. "You were magnificent, Mei."

"Untie me and hold me, honey," she said, "Please, my master, my wonderful man."

He pulled the slip knot and freed her hands from the cuffs, sat before her and hugged her.

"Please, Philip, take me to bed and fuck me nice and slow."

He lifted her slack body and carried her to their bedroom.