Dance, yama

Thursday night. My visit to Lila is due.

My punishment is in process. More exactly, it has just started. I got only 19 strokes of 600. My back is still raw, i suppose tonight i will be punished on some other part of my body. Only you never know it with Lila. The girl is wonderfully whimsical. Like a fairy.

She is smiling at me as usual. How i love her. i simply crave to be humiliated by her.

She sees about that immediately after i have kissed her feet, telling me to undress and kneel in front of her, in about two steps distance. She puts rice on the floor, i kneel on it, with slightly spread knees. She likes to see me in pain, the sadistic little angel. And i enjoy being tortured by her.

She ties my wrists together behind my back. I feel completely exposed to her sweet caprices.

“Now, sweetie.”

She takes the box of metal clamps. They have sharp dentition, and we selected those with the strongest springs in them.

She puts clamps on my pussy lips. It is a sharp pain, of course.

“Do you enjoy it, my pet?”

i am crazy about Lila's sweet mockery.

“Yes, darling, i am enjoying it very much. Thank You.”

She laughs, giving me her hand to kiss. Then she kisses my lips.

“Now some extra pleasure for you, girlie.”

She puts a clamp on my clit, too.

The pain is maddening. i moan.

She gives me her hand to be kissed again.

“Hope you are happy with it, dear?”, Lila laughs mockingly.

“Oh, i am”, i reply, with tears running down on my face.

“Good girl. Well, we are going to theater Saturday night, aren't we?”

She offers me a light conversation, while i am in a half-ecstasy of pain and lust. The clamps are excruciating but very arousing. My breasts are hardening, my pussy is wet. I wonder why she didn't put clamps on my nipples, too. As for my 581 strokes in store, they seem to be completely forgotten.

“What dress do you intend to wear on Saturday, dear?”

i have no time to reply.

Whoosh!

The whip is landing on my right breast. My body wriggles with sharp pain.

Whoosh!

My left breast is hit.

“Thank you, dear”, i manage to moan.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

“Thank you, sweetie”, i am groaning, choking with tears.

She smiles at me.

“Well, what dress will you wear in the theater?”

And so it is going on. She forces me in trivial conversation, doted with sudden whip strokes now and again. In the midst of it she takes my clamps down, and, after a while, puts them back, giving me sharp pain again. The number of strokes is very casual. When i get seven in a series, i have an orgasm. Lila is laughing.

“Well, miss, let's relax a bit.”

She puts the whip down, and takes my clamps off. I am still kneeling on rice, which is painful enough, but she seems to deem that amount of torture the necessary minimum.

My face is wet with tears. She kisses my lips.

“About your punishment, dear. Do you know how many strokes did you get just now?”

I have no idea. Thirty? Forty?

“It was 21, darling. And it is enough for tonight.”

Here i agree with her without compromise. It is enough. My breasts are flaming and full of welts. And my back is still sore, too.

“Well, girl, how many strokes you had in store?”

“Last time i get 14 slaps in my face, and 19 whip strokes on my back.”

“Isn't your memory a bit weak? 10 slaps were due in your face. You get two as my personal gift, and two again from different reason. So only 10 counts.”

“So it is, my queen. i apologize.

“But as a punishment for your bad memory, i delete even that 10. They don't count at all.”

“Oh. Thank You, dear.”

“So 591 was due, wasn't it, little one? Taking 19 from 610.”

“It is so, teacher.”

“Well, you got 21 tonight. 570 remaining.”

“Exactly, dear.”

“And you have places on you to punish yet. Your thighs, for example, in front and in back. Your palms. Your soles. Your belly. And your buttocks still aren't treated properly.”

“Yes, it is so.”

“Well, be prepared for 570 strokes, sweetheart.”

“So i will be.”

“You may kiss my knees, then.”

i start kissing her shapely knees. En erotic play is developing. Her panties are off in to time. My hands are still tied behind my back, and the rice still affects my knees; also my breasts hurt like hell. But i can satisfy my lover, and even get another orgasm while my tortured breasts are being ground between her fingers.

Then Lila releases me completely, kisses my breasts and smears an ointment on them. i am dressing, reluctantly. We linger in the embrace of each other (my breasts hurting wildly) as long as if the time stopped.

“Do you know what?”, Lila asks me, when i have kissed her feet and she is opening the door to let me out.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Your punishment. That 570 strokes. Let's delete it all. You have none left.”