Robert Taylor - Whipped bitch

He said, "She's afraid."

Barbara told him, "Then it's clear that she needs discipline. We'll have to use chains."

Janey heard a squeal of protest in the hall. The man snarled, "Get in here now, you dirty slut! Or it will be all the harder for you!"

He dragged in a woman wearing a mask like his – a domino, Janey remembered that's what they were called. She had red hair, darker than Gracie's, and a lime-green dress that clung to a voluptuous body. On her left hand ring finger a huge diamond glittered, on the right an emerald even larger.

Her face was pale and strained. As the man shut the door, she backed to it, tried to find the knob. She finger nailed the door until the man shoved her away.

Barbara signaled for Janey to remain in place. She stepped over to a vanity table, opened the drawer and took out a black key. "She appears completely untrained. We'll have to lock up to keep her from disrupting the lesson."

She went to the door and locked it, then returned the key to the drawer. She turned to the woman. "Mrs. Smith, I'll hear your side of it first."

The woman cringed as Barbara spoke. Glancing fearfully at the man, she said, "He, my husband, he isn't a man at all!"

Barbara nodded gravely. "Your story then, is that he can't get an erection?"

"It's a flab, just a flat flab hanging in his pants. But he blames it on me."

"You lying bitch!" the man cried. "You filthy, cunt-lapping frigid slut, your hole is as dry as desert sand, like sandpaper. It'd tear the skin right off a man's prick!"

Barbara turned to the vanity table. She took a length of black chain from the drawer. She rattled it. Heavy. Iron.

"Don't chain me!" the woman shrieked. "I'll obey, I'll do whatever… you… want…"

Barbara's lip curled. "You're whining like a bitch dog. You need discipline. Your only hope is to obey or we will use very strong measures. Start by bending over the horse."

"No!" the woman shrilled. "Please don't make me!"

"Over the horse!" her husband howled. "You cowardly slut, take what you deserve."

He reached for her, but she skittered away, climbed onto the bed and cowered against the wall under the mirrors.

Janey watched gape-mouthed. This Mr. Smith wanted his wife beaten!

Then she saw Barbara's whip jerk toward her, indicating that she move toward the bed.

Walking unsteadily on the high-heeled boots, Janey advanced on the woman, as the other two came around toward the bed from the other direction.

"Slut!" he shouted at her. "Cunt-lapping lesbian bitch!"

The three closed in, Janey reaching across the bed and seizing Mrs. Smith's wrist. She found that the palm of the glove was rough, providing a sure grip on the woman's soft skin. Together they dragged her from the bed to the horse. Barbara clapped handcuffs on her. The cuffs were attached to the chain, which she drew down to a hook on a leg of the horse. Securing it, she attached the chain to leg irons clamped on the woman's ankles.

She was bent over the horse now, her screams reduced to racking sobs. "Before we began instruction," Barbara said, "remove your pants. And remember, we may have to discipline you as well."

Nodding, he removed his jacket, pants and shorts, naked now except for a blue knit shirt. His cock, Janey saw, was thick and heavy, dangling limply between his legs.

His wife shrilled, "Look at it! Hangs like an old rope. How can a woman get hot over that?"

Barbara snarled. "That remark earns you a heavy one, woman. Oh, you have so much to learn!" To Janey she said, "Take her panties down. Skirt up. Cool her ass before we start heating it."

Janey obeyed, turning the woman's lime-green skirt up and pulling down matching panties, baring large white buttocks. Dark hair tufted out at the bottom of the crease.

"Let me do it," Mr. Smith said, reaching for Barbara's whip.

She whirled on him, pointing to a chair. "Sit down, or I'll give you a couple lashes!"

The man sat, drawing back from her, gasping. "Don't whip me, please! It's she who needs it!"

Barbara snorted. "She? Are you sure? I'm not. And I have more chains, don't forget that. Let's have silence now so I can hear Mrs. Smith speak. I have some questions to ask her."

Barbara circled the horse and paused facing the woman. She dug fingers into Mrs. Smith's hair and raised her head. Barbara's stance, feet placed well apart, muscles taut, hips forward, made her look frightening, Janey thought. And the harsh black leather emphasized the curves of her body, so that her breasts and shaven pussy seemed much more prominent.

"Mrs. Smith, your husband calls you a cunt-lapper. Do you have a woman lover?"

Sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, Mrs. Smith choked, "He lies! I'd never do that."

"Another man?"

"No! I'm faithful to him. Even though I need sex, I'm very hot, but I don't get it from him so I have to…"

"Masturbate?"

The woman groaned, then nodded.

Barbara sighed. "Well, at least you admit that you finger-fuck yourself. That's a start in the right direction. Now, do you help your husband get hard by sucking his cock?"

"No, no! Never! That filthy thing…"

Barbara released her hair and circled the horse. She looked at Mr. Smith. "It's fortunate that you've come here. She needs a great deal of discipline."

She shook out her whip, planted her feet firmly. She raised the black whip to the woman's ass cleft, nudged it as though measuring the distance.

Then she brought her arm back to strike.

Mr. Smith cried out, "Wait! Look here, you won't hurt her? I mean, really hurt…"

Barbara paused, glowering. "I guess I'll have to chain you also."

"No!" he cried. "She's the one that…" Barbara's arm moved like a snake attacking. The whip flew at his legs, snapping like a pistol shot.

He shrieked. "Ahh-hh! Please don't…"

"That was only a warning," Barbara said, then she turned to the woman, unlimbering her whip arm.

Janey gaped at the red band on the man's thigh where the whip had lashed it. She did not understand at all, especially the result of the blow. His cock had twitched and started to rise!

Now Barbara's arm uncoiled, bringing the whip on a slant across Mrs. Smith's buttocks. An explosive sound. A scream from the woman that chilled Janey's blood. The whip leaped away.

A red stripe angled from hip down to the opposite thigh.

And the man's erection quivered, then grew! Again the whip descended, this time straight across. Thighs were quivering in anticipation, jerked as the whip struck and left a red mark just about her anus.

Mrs. Smith shrieked, then cried, "I'll suck it! I'll suck his cock, let me suck it right now!"

"Do you want to suck it?"

"Yes, yes, I want to!"

"Liar!" Barbara snarled. She drew her arm back and brought the whip hissing down, higher this time, snapping on the upper buttocks.

Mr. Smith was licking his lips feverishly. His cock stood halfway up. "Let her suck it, suck it right now!"

Barbara spun on him. The whip lashed out and cracked loudly on the same thigh, making an X with the previous livid stripe.

He bit his lip, fighting the pain. His cock jerked, lengthened. It was nearly fully erect now.

"First we'll get to the truth of your accusation that she likes pussy. She'll lap my assistant."

She pointed the whip at Janey, gestured to the left. Janey was now terrified of the instrument, even though she held a matching one. She scurried to comply, rounded the horse to face Mrs. Smith.

"Lift her head and give her your cunt to lick."

Trembling, Janey grasped the woman's hair, raised her head and stepped close until Mrs. Smith's nose nuzzled her pubic hair.

The man made sputtering sounds, leaned forward in his chair, opened his mouth to speak but forced it closed after a glance at Barbara's whip. His eyes were dark, malevolent.