dissident

 dissident

Slave 1548 sat on soft leather. His body was leaning against the familiar whipping cabinet, though he was afraid of it. The only clothing he wears is a thin latex mask that serves to obscure his view of his surroundings. He could only hear and imagine what was happening around him in muffled voices. And the owner, who was watching everything, enjoyed this moment by listening to the birds chirping to the special guest through the half-open window and washed the servant's flesh with fresh air before starting the next stage. Everything is ready and the slave is ready to start playing right away. She could tell she was enjoying the moment of relaxation, feeling the warm skin beneath her and her teacher next to her.

Now his breathing calmed down. In one fell swoop he found his way from the front door to the frame of the rack and without thinking he ran towards her. He had no illusions that this afternoon would be very difficult, as he had disappointed his master with his laziness and indifference the past few days.

The skin slowly covers the limbs. Lady Patricia spent time tying him up. He tied the colt as tightly as possible to the whip chain so that he felt there was no escape.

Finally, his hands were tied to the wide collar his master had placed on him. Now he was lying comfortably on the leather, still listening to the sounds of nature and everyday life and slowly inhaling the smell of leather, rubber and the perfume of his owner, enjoying himself. But he could no longer be free, he could not stand up, he could not protect his upward, defenseless body from the woman's hands. When the window was closed, the curtains drawn, and he heard his Master playing soft music, it was clear to him that his rest was over. A gentle tickle on her back - a thin thong playfully slid across her back. It can happen anytime.

Kul1548 knew he had many crimes: laziness, laziness, forgetfulness. But the question Mrs. Patricia asked him was not about sentences.

"Kozha has a surprise for the bugs. Find out what it is!"

The lady who stuttered under the latex really liked it. With a few strokes to warm him up, he made her answer more and more stupidly, until she answered "G..No punishment?", until he got bored and slowly, very slowly, unzipped the rubber. Mask the eyes.

“There is no punishment… really”… 1548 looked forward and saw himself. Specifically, it wasn't even two steps, but someone was wearing a mask and was tied like that. "Rather, today there are more than one or two punishments." Seeing the two victims in shock didn't surprise the woman at all, neither of them were aware of it and neither of them knew what was coming. Patricia explained the rules loud and clear.

“You are both honored today because today is a special occasion and you decide the punishment – ​​neither of you have any ideas yet. The eyes of the slaves were fixed on the stern face of their master, dressed in trousers, uniform, stiff blouse, all gray and white, and shiny black boots. As she continued, the owner, knowing the negative associations this would create, put on a white plastic apron. "Before it becomes a mystery for too long: the rules are simple: each round, one person decides how many hits they get, up to a maximum of 100, and what tool the other person gets." The woman pointed to the steering wheel. With percussion instruments. . "And when it's the other person's turn, they can fight back, which ends up being better for both sides."

He applied some rules and consequences to a limited number of candidates. "But it all ends. Whoever says the word 'abstain' loses. Both will have to pay for this treatment, and there will be a special audience. In a week, 'it will all happen.' Let me give you some advice on this... The lady smiled and said, "Don't give up."

For a few seconds, all you hear is quiet background music that makes the criminals forget to even breathe. The woman was thrown into a coin called "1548 Start".

When he did not immediately mention, he was still surprised by this situation. The wife helped him using Thin Reed. "Twenty with a stick, sir." The slave cried out suddenly, suspecting that his neighbor would take revenge, and wanting to bite his tongue. But I loved the angry look on his face and the way the lady took the baton and sent 20 to her opponent's floor without stopping. He couldn't help but smile under the latex as he watched her angry expression turn to one of submission. A pause, another deep breath. "I hear."

"100 on a stick!"

The woman focused on this problem and counted to 100 with all her might. 1548 cried out, regretting raising the first commandment and trying to stifle the urge to go back to the second. Knowing that his master was punishing him, he calmed him down, but in the end his evil instincts won out.

"100 rubber stick ladies!" The satisfaction was good, and the brief cooling of her body was a treat as the woman controlled her face with metronome precision. He was obsessed with the idea that he would not be defeated. "100 with a leather whip," - the professor shook his head. - Instead of making your life easier - now you both get 100 all the time, no more breaks from each other and no more seeing each other.

At the end stood a bullwhip, the red first covering the mistress's white apron. Before him, the slaves knew only one thing: they would not fail their masters. I patted him on the back like a racehorse and gave him a drink while he rested for a while. He loved the sounds, the sounds of teeth grinding, sharp breathing. Now you don't have to think about birdsong and the everyday world outside! With each new percussion instrument, the master found a new spot, a new target area, and he loved the way it stimulated his servant's baser instincts, leaving them both frozen in twisted sensory overload. In the end, the owner decided that he would not be defeated.

Both slaves laid down exhausted and it was time to treat their wounds. All thoughts of revenge vanished from them. They felt only the warmth of the body, the closeness of the owner and constant joy.

Soon the curtains were closed again and the window opened, and Mrs. Patricia quietly smoked a cigarette and watched her work.