Val Marrick - Whipped niece

Liz shrieked and fell to her knees. She pressed one hand between her thighs, cupping her violated pussy, the other barely covering both of her abused jugs at once. The top of her thighs and her lower belly throbbed with searing pain, and so did her cunt. She felt bare flesh and pussy hair beneath her palm – the whip had literally stripped the front of her pants away from her cowering body.

Liz rocked back and forth on her knees, crooning to herself a mindless song of agony. Wanda, her eyes burning with torture-lust, took two catlike steps forward and grabbed a big handful of Liz's auburn hair, ripping it loose from the neat knot at the back of her neck.

The front of her denim dress started to close. With savage strength, she yanked the teenager's head forward so that Liz's face was buried in the rank, wet cunt fur the instant before the skirt closed around her.

Liz felt something sopping-wet rub over her lips. She pressed them tightly shut and turned her face away. Cunt juice smeared across her cheek. She put her small hands against Wanda's cool thighs and shoved with all her might.

Losing her balance, Wanda staggered back. Liz lurched to her feet, but the whip sang its vicious song and her tits flared with new, horrible pain. Half-turning, Liz dropped to her knees, cradling her agonized boobs in her arms.

Like the breath of a blowtorch, the whip licked across her vulnerable asscheeks. As it had when Wanda had stroked it across her victim's pussy, the whip tore the cloth stretched over Liz's pert buttcheeks to pieces, and etched fiery lines across the snowy mounds of her ass.

Liz howled and fell to the floor. She racked back and forth, rolling from her back to her belly and over again, trying to protect her tender ass, tits, and aching pussy all at the same time.

It was a hopeless task. When Liz pressed her hand over her lush rump to ward off the whip, the leather cut agonizingly at the back of her hand as it ripped at her asscheeks. When the shrieking adolescent tried to clamp her thighs together to save her pulverized pussy, the whip slashed at them in a whirlwind of blows till she pried them apart in a tortured reflex.

The blow across her naked, gaping cunt that followed seemed to tear the fragile pussy lips clean away from her cunt. But all the whip had done was to fill the tender twat lips with an agony like liquid fire. Wanda slashed at the girl's big boobs till the pale titflesh glowed a red darker than the girl's sunburn. The kiss of the knotted leather made the writhing captive's nipples explode with pain. Each blow of leather against inflamed flesh was somehow unendurably worse than the last.

"Oh! Ow! STO-O-OP!" Liz's cries rang so loudly that she was sure any other tenants in the motel complex would have heard her. But if anyone had heard her agonized pleas for mercy, no one responded, no one except the tail, beautiful sadist, whose tits swung ponderously as she flailed her lash against her victim's tender skin – and the dark man, who stood by, smoking casually, his eyes black beads of lustful interest, the fly of his white jeans bulging with his swollen cock.

For Wanda, whipping the screaming girl was a sexual pleasure nearly as intense as having the captive eat her pussy would be! When the nine vicious tongues of black leather sank deep into the globe of her juicy tit, it was as if a lover's tongue had caressed Wanda's own jutting jug. When the swell of Liz's lush butt was scored by the lash, Wanda's taut ass thrummed with ecstasy. When the cat lapped at the girl's pussy and made her arch her back in a horrid parody of passion, Wanda's own pussy gushed hot cunt honey.

But the man was beginning to fidget. Out of the corner of her pale eyes, Wanda saw him start to frown. She knew the signals; he was getting bored. He wanted the spectacle to get on to other things, and he didn't want the merchandise too badly damaged – not before he'd had a chance to sample it as well.

It was time to stop the whipping. Wanda thought of what the man would do to her if he were displeased. The resultant pang of terror began in her brimming cunt and shot upward through her belly like a sharp spear of ice. But the thought of the agony she would suffer if she made her man angry – so much worse than what this pathetic, groveling child now found so unbearable – also produced a wild, masochistic thrill in Wanda's hot body.

But she wasn't ready for the final step, not yet. And the captive would be only too happy to obey her, now.

Just when Liz knew she'd die – or go mad – if her body had to undergo another minute of the brutal whipping, the hailstorm of blows thankfully ceased. She lay on her stomach, her pink, inflamed buttcheeks sticking up in the air. She still had on her open blouse and high-laced sandals, but her tight pants were now no more than a few miserable tatters of cloth clinging to her legs. The pounding of pain in her asscheeks was so fierce that it was only the lack of the distinctive ripping sound of the lash tearing into her ass that made her realize a new blow had not landed.

Sobbing, her eyes red and puffy from weeping, she lifted her head and looked up at her tormentor. The whip still dangling from one finely-manicured hand, Wanda leaned back with her stately ass propped up against a dresser.

Once more she swept open the front of her denim skirt. Her dense black cunt bush was matted, completely soaked with the sticky juices that flowed from her pussy. She had been turned on almost to the point of agony by whipping the now nearly-naked captive. Her pussy begged for release.

"Now," she said, "are you ready to lick my pussy?"

Without conscious thought, Liz nodded.

The adolescent lacked the strength to rise, but she knew what would happen if she kept the woman waiting. She started to wriggle, forward on her belly, like a snake. The touch of the rough carpet on her tender tits was utter torment, but even that was better than feeling that awesome whip bite at her whipped tits or cunt again!

She groveled between Wanda's outstretched legs, trying to gather the strength to lift herself. Wanda waited, her jaw clenched, as though against some torment. She was too horny now to whip Liz again, unless the girl willfully disobeyed. She didn't want to do anything that might keep those luscious lips away from her cunt a second longer than was necessary!

Liz hauled herself up to a kneeling position. Wanda's cunt was only inches away from her eyes. The smell of hot, wet pussy was overwhelming, choking thick in her nostrils. Her stomach was awash with nausea. As though moving through molasses, she extended a trembling finger and touched the cunt bush. A drop of pussy sauce ran along her finger and dripped to the floor.

Wanda shivered with anticipation. A hot wave of cunt-small, stronger than ever, washed over Liz, threatening to swamp her senses. The urge to flee was almost too much to resist. But the memory of pain, all to recent, kept her in place, kneeling before the altar of that black-furred cunt.

She'd already taken part in one lesbian act, she knew. She had let Janet Dolby eat her pussy, and hadn't fought back – just the opposite! But that was passive. All she'd needed to do was sit there and let the redhead's lips and tongue work their magic on her needy pussy. She couldn't really have resisted even if she'd wanted to, but here, she'd have to take an active role. The thought made her feel faint.

But the whip… there was always the whip! Liz put both hands to Wanda's pussy and began to part the jungle of cunt fur. Wanda moaned and writhed. At least this won't take long, the girl told herself, sensing the closeness of the other woman to climax. Her fingertips touched her slick pussy lips. A shudder racked Wanda's lean frame. Liz probed with her thumbs, found the moist, rubbery cuntlips, and spread the woman's pussy wide open.