Yvonne was spoken of purely as a commodity to be used by Peter. He, in turn, continued expressing his desire to severely hurt her.
Rob, for his part, became more and more excited and gave his every encouragement and consent to everything that Peter suggested.
Yvonne’s lust was surging through her body as she sucked and licked and loved her husband’s cock, and as her own hand mauled, fingered, and rubbed frantically at her wet, slippery pussy.
It was soon agreed that Yvonne would be delivered to Peter the next afternoon and that she should be left with him, to be tortured and abused, until her husband returned to collect her.
The next sixteen hours of waiting saw Yvonne constantly oscillating between lustful enthusiasm, fear and terror, sluttish feelings, guilt and shame. As the time drew near however, she showered, dressed in her sexiest, most delicate underwear, took especial care with her makeup, and generally felt so sexually excited even through her moments of fear.
“Fuck!” her husband kept exclaiming, “this is going to be fucking fantastic! I’ll be all of the time thinking about how Peter is using you.”
As had been the case when she’d been taken for her previous S & M sessions, Yvonne began to think that it wasn’t too late, she could still avert it if she wanted to. Even as they reached the house that had been given in the directions, she considered that she could still stop this from happening to her.
All of those thoughts of still being in control of her fate, and yet keeping on ahead, only served to stimulate Yvonne’s bizarre sexual appetite even further, so that there was never ever any really serious thought of not going through with this terrible thing that was planned for her.
They stood on the pavement, gazing in at the house, each lost in their own thoughts. They were both a little frightened at the possibilities of what might happen, but they both lusted at the bizarre perversion of what they were doing.
“Ready,” Rob asked his wife.
“Yes, ‘ she murmured in reply.
It was a quite ordinary looking house – brick and tile, nicely kept with a bushy garden, certainly nothing about it gave any hint of what terrible things might go on within it’s walls. Did it hold dark secrets of torture chambers with cruel machines and devices. Yvonne was literally trembling as her husband led her to the front door. She was shaking and had to be helped up the steps.
A big man answered Rob’s knock on the door – no one could ever suspect that he was such a cruel sadist.
Yvonne was blushing profusely, consumed by the shame and embarrassment of wantonly entering on this arrangement.
Peter was absolutely gloating over her. Looking at her lovely face, her small but very desirable body, her small but adequate tits bulging under her tight top. He must have, even at this late stage, not believed his luck as he again wanted confirmation from Rob that he was happy for his wife to be abused and hurt.
Yvonne felt totally belittled as she heard her husband assuring Peter that she could be used in any way he wanted.
They shook hands in a friendly manner and Rob jokingly said, “don’t look after my wife while I’m gone.”
Peter laughed in turn and replied that he certainly wouldn’t, then added in a cruel voice while looking at her gloatingly, “I’m going to give her absolute fucking hell.”
Yvonne watched in silence as her husband once again shook hands with Peter and then walked away, leaving her to be led inside the house.
Her husband had arranged it in this way, that he should simply hand his wife over to this guy and leave her with him. He loved his wife very much, and it seemed to him to treat her in this seemingly careless way, was the ultimate degradation.
Once in the house Yvonne’s fears were temporarily allayed as Peter told her how pretty she was and as he began kissing her tenderly.
Yvonne in turn kissed back lovingly as Peter began to undress and fondle her body.
This show of tenderness lasted only briefly, and Yvonne’s illusions were shattered when she was led into the bedroom and was told that she would be beaten insensible.
Yvonne noted that the bedroom, far from being a chamber of horrors, was neat and tastefully decorated – the only give away of what deviancy that might take place there, was the coiled cord, leather shackles, and leather whips that were piled on the end of the bed.
Yvonne climbed onto the bed, taking up the position that Peter directed, lying on her back with her legs spread apart and her arms stretched wide and above her head. She made no complaint nor offered any resistance as Peter securely bound her wrists and ankles and restrained her in this totally vulnerable position.
Peter then began to show her the many whips and lashes that he had in readiness for her – a long, thin, woven leather whip, a shorter, flat leather whip on a handle the shape of a cock which could be used as a dildo to fuck her with in between whippings. A short flogger consisting of twelve thin strips of leather attached to a handle. A fibre glass riding crop with a three inch fold of leather at the whip end, and indeed many other cruel and spiteful items with which to beat her with.
Now, as Peter selected a whip which was not dissimilar to the shape of a fly swatter, other than that it was larger and made of leather, Yvonne cringed and whimpered in fear as she watched him draw back his arm and take aim.
Swish, the whip sounded as it came speeding in a wide arc and thrashed across Yvonne’s stomach.
“Argggg,” she yelled as the vicious little whip filled her belly with a searing pain.
She had hardly recovered her breath when the whip again struck her, this time across the top of one thigh.
“Owwww!” she yelled and twisted and struggled as much as her bonds would allow, as the pain and shock raced through her body.
She was gasping and cringing as she watched Peter again preparing to strike her.
Whack! This time right across the top of her other thigh. Then another just above the knee.
Peter had put plenty of effort into each blow, and as his blows made their way back up Yvonne’s body to her breasts she was panting and gasping, and shrieking in agony and terror as the vicious blows built up the pain in her body.
“Fuck! you sound fabulous,” Peter grinned as he listened to Yvonne’s shrieks which became more and more frantic and agonised.
“Oh my God! That’s enough! That’s enough!” Yvonne half gasped, half sobbed with tears in her eyes.
Peter laughed spitefully. “No way my girl,” he said cruelly, “I’m really going to make a fucking mess of you before I’m through.”
To demonstrate his point he next took up the long, thin, leather whip and taking aim, he continued flogging her naked body with rapid lashes.
Yvonne was screeching and howling in awful, agonising pain. Her eyes, with the tears now streaming forth, had a look of terror as she realised just what she had let herself in for.
The woven leather of the whip bit at her skin and left fiery red stripes where it struck her. The very thinness of the lash causing all of the force to be concentrated along the line of impact so that lines of glowing red swelling, with many small abrasions along the length, were left all over her body.