Chapter 4: In Which I Attend to Alice’s Bound Breasts

I mentioned, I think, my collection of breast whips. I feel compelled to boast, with all appropriate modesty, that I think it may well be the finest in the world, although of course I have made no formal survey. I chose two favorites, a flogger and a crop, both designed specifically for the breasts, and both perfect for causing maximum sting (to the captive girl) and stimulation (to the attending gentleman) without causing unsightly blemishes, or worse, damage, to those large and most attractive orbs. Whipping a woman’s naked breasts properly is as much art as entertainment, after all.

Alice’s lovely blue eyes grew wider again as she guessed her fate. Once again, she struggled like a wildcat, but I had bound her too well. For all her effort, she remained helpless, gagged, and at my mercy. I was not inclined to grant it.

I did, however, appreciate how wonderfully her twin orbs jiggled and danced as she struggled. I wondered if she could possibly know how much her efforts enhanced my enjoyment of her predicament, or if she would appreciate the irony if she could.

“Ah, Alice,” I told her, “the more you struggle, the more you make your delicious breasts bounce for me, the more I wish to whip them! You must learn to surrender to a gentleman dominant’s will more gracefully.”

It is always a momentous occasion, when a girl is to be put to the whip for the first time, and I meant to ensure that the experience was one Alice would remember always. She must endure nothing less than my very best work. Placing the crop on a nearby table, I began with the flogger, making circular motions with my wrist to make the leather strands swing and dance against her skin.

The flogger’s kiss was gentle at first, and I concentrated on the undersides, swooping up from below with a hard circular motion. Alice screamed behind her gag, but her nipples swelled, growing even harder than before. I began to twirl my wrist more vigorously, and her bouncing breasts danced with every rotation. I moved from one breast to the other, watching them redden with a most charming pattern of stripes that slowly spread into a more uniform sheen as the whipping continued. Her breasts were sweating, tiny drops that turned the red sheen into a glow.

I wondered, briefly, how Alice was finding the experience. It was, after all, one of her most secret fantasies, one she had confessed to me once, and only once, in one of our late night talks. When I’d tried to bring it up again later, she’d blushed and looked away before awkwardly changing the subject. This fantasy was too close to her soul to discuss casually. Now, though, now it was her reality.

She shook her head wildly, begging me with her eyes, and I felt my cock stir and twitch beneath my robe. I struck her harder, and then harder still.

I swung at one breast, and then at the other until my wrist began to grow tired. I was still not ready to spare poor Alice, or even yet to introduce her pert nipples to the crop, so I shifted the flogger to my left hand. It lacked the dexterity of my right, so I concentrated on slapping down from above, instead of twisting the strands in merciless circles, and marveled at how the patterns of deepening red shifted. The flogger’s straps spread across her breasts with each strike like the fingers of a cruel hand, and I allowed myself a rather wolfish smile every time two or more of the tips flicked a proud nipple right on the very end. I made a game if it, switching breasts every time I scored an especially satisfying hit with the tips on one of her delightful pink and erect nubs.

Alice’s struggles grew more frantic, and her muffled screams behind her gag were music. She was a dancer after all. The frame was her stage, and she performed like a prima virtuoso. Her cheeks were wet with her tears. She shook her head; she fought against the steel chains that held her. Her eyes were wild, but I saw desire burning with her distress.

Pain and pleasure, blended together in an agonizing cocktail of sensation.

At last I set the flogger aside, and took a sip of my wine. Ah! I had indeed paired well, woman and wine. I set my glass down again and turned back to Alice.

I kissed away her tears before turning my lips back to her breasts. First the whip, then the kiss. She would learn that pattern well. I suckled her nipples with greater urgency even than before, and her dance changed. I led her like a maestro. Her breasts were hotter than before, and the subtle salt of her sweat gave them a surprisingly piquant taste. Delightful! Reaching into my pocket, I found the remote and switched her vibrator on. I varied the speed — higher and then lower, but careful to avoid any pattern, or to bring her too close to climax — while I teased her breasts.