Chained, Part Six
Popcorn and Penthouse bent me over the bed and took turns spanking and flogging me, making me yelp and squeal into my ballgag. I squirmed when they stroked the skin, blushing in response to their chuckles and little quips about how fun it was to do this to me.
“Do you want to get caned?” Penthouse asked me and I heard him rummaging for something.
I moaned, nodding and trying to look over my shoulder. I had never been caned before, but I couldn’t manage to crane my neck to a degree to fully see it beyond watching something long and brown swish through the air and collide with my ass.
Having seen other caning pictures and now seeing my own ass: guys, those pictures must’ve taken a fuckton of caning. And it must have HURT LIKE CRAZY.
But I liked it. I loved the stinging, I loved the way they rubbed over it afterwards, and I loved the way they cooed over how red it was.
“She’s a good girl,” Popcorn commented at one point.
Penthouse reached up and patted my hair, smoothing it off my face. I looked up and saw his grin. “Yeah,” he replied, “she is.”