Sylvie Merval, her eyes shining diabolically, was passionately torturing the offered breasts, strange and meaningless words escaping from her mouth. At last she stopped, leaving the woman motionless. She took two whips, gave the man the longest, and bending over Monique told her in a whisper:
“Darling, give your buttocks to his caresses so that I can whip her in exchange.”
She passionately kissed Monique's lips, and affectionately spanked her. Her hand was soon replaced by the man's hand. Monique shivered from her hair to her toes under the voluptuous blows. His hands were harder, drier, and hurt more. Her flesh was awakened by the soft fever that came under the skin, by the obscene posture, by the complete submission into which she felt herself failing, abandoning all restraint. Suddenly terrible cries came in the room where the lashes of Sylvie's whip were torturing the breasts of the woman.
Monique, more and more excited, could see the lashes falling on the delicate flesh of the breasts. They were rolling from one side to another, the tips stretched under the lashes that pulled the nipples, uplifting the whole huge mass of the globes. Monique could hardly feel the ardent flogging of the man who was cleverly handling his whip. She was opening her thighs according to his desire, unconscious of how lasciviously she was offering herself to him. She was just listening to the moans of the tortured woman. A savage beat was hammering at her temples, her ears were full of sounds that she had never heard before. She could hardly feel the man's finger insinuating between her buttocks, forcing the little opening of her anus, while his mouth gave her bottom little bites. She found herself kneeling by the side of the sofa, under the lash again, her bottom jutting, offered to the cool contact of a vase-lined nozzle too soon withdrawn. Then she felt other flesh against her most secret parts. By an instinctive movement of protection she put her hand to her sex, but already the hardened head of the man's prick was forcing itself into the puckered little mouth, thrusting itself deep in it, and the flesh was sliding into her own flesh, palpitating flesh shivering and trembling in her desire-contracted belly. The sound of the man's belly slapping against her buttocks resounded, while his hands caressed her flanks.
And the woman's voice, hollering: “Fuck her, Jacques! Impale her! Be my vengeance, my love! Aah! Ooooh…”
And the whiz of the whip that caresses, embraces the burning breasts, covering them with dark blue streaks.
The man rattled his pleasure into Monique's ear. She gave herself up to his savage sodomization. Enjoying the pleasure, moaning with luxury, contracting herself on the pole, as if she wanted to hold it in her, she squeezed it in her muscled and slimy sheath up to the hilt until the spasm finally came. The man spurted his burning sap in her and fell upon her, while, with a last blow, Sylvie brought a few drops of blood to the nipples of the tortured woman.
Naked, Monique ran to her room where she fell prostrate with shame, but the cool caress of a childish mouth soon erased all remorse and slowly put her to sleep.
As days went by, Monique watched the punishments of certain pupils in front of the headmistress. The erotic spankings always brought a child more excitement than pain, and they seldom feared the lightly handled whip.
Then one night, with her colleagues, she was ordered to Sylvie, and witnessed the punishment of Maria, the Latin teacher. A strong creature, without great beauty, she had heavy breasts that hung slightly low on her torso, and a plump bottom with a deep slit. She was naked except for her stockings and high heel shoes. The room, discreetly lit by one lamp, was perfectly silent; from the ceiling hung two ropes with leather bracelets near the wall at the opposite side of the room. Maria's hands were tightened into the contraption and then suddenly pulled up as the ropes lifted her arms. She was like a flesh Y hanging from the ceiling. Then her legs were also separated and widely opened with two other leather bracelets that were fixed to the ground, so that her body looked more like an X. Maria was thus offered to the scrutiny of her colleagues, standing up, her belly slightly protruding with its deep and long navel in the center, and the nearly hairless pubis.
In front of her, Sylvie sat on a chair, and at a signal, three young girls placed themselves by Maria's side. Two of them began sucking at her breasts while the other one slowly caressed her flanks, her thighs, her buttocks, slowly provoking a terrible excitation in the girl's body.
“Then,” whispered Sylvie, “little Maria, you refuse to let your colleagues caress you?”
Maria, softly moaning with the voluptuousness of the moment, was bending in her ties, and at a signal the girls stopped their caresses and Sylvie, taking a whip with thin lashes, placed herself by Maria's side and started flogging the young girl's heavy teats.
Like a puppet, Maria, held by the ropes, was unable to escape the whip's cruel biting. She trembled and quivered under the blows that were falling on her skin, harder and harder each time. Soft hissing of the whip against the painful skin. The three girls, hugged into each other's arms, were caressing their buttocks softly.
Louder and louder cries came in the room, and one could guess the pain of the convulsed girl. The erect nipples were sucked, licked, stretched by the lash, and became bigger and bigger. After two particularly hard blows Sylvie stopped, but it was only to take another stick and start hitting the bouncy buttocks. The leather seemed to disappear in the soft flesh, and the hissing of the whip ended in a mushy noise that was very exciting. Immediately after the shock the girl uttered a louder cry and distorted her body in the ropes of the contraption. The pain became unbearable and her moaning grew hoarser.
“Enough! Oooh! Enough! Not there… enough… enough!”
But Sylvie did not seem to get tired. Finally she let the girl rest and caressed her softly. Then she took another whip that was made of a multitude of thin, round, hard leather lashes. Behind the girl, stretched on her opened legs, she threw the whip from the ground to the ceiling, and the lashes went crashing on the half-opened cunt, their ends hurting the velvety pubis. A shout, a desperate try to draw back and the anguished woman felt the hard biting of the lashes insinuating between the curled lips of her sex.
Pitiless, Sylvie kept flogging with hard strokes the fragile and sweet flesh of those in-sides which only received soft caresses before. At each blow, the girl recoiled into the ropes, and undulated in the most voluptuous way in front of her colleagues. Each time the lashes fell on her pubis and it became a dark pink color; the erected clitoris, burning with pain, was emerging from the hot, yawning lips of her cunt.
At last Sylvie stopped the abominable flogging, sat down to contemplate the heavy breathing, nearly unconscious girl.
At a signal she was released from the ropes that held her legs, so she could stand on her feet; she was already more at ease now that her thighs were closed again. But already Sylvie was asking for the piano stool. At the mere sight of the instrument, Maria's eyes filled with fear.
It was a wooden stool with a long screw that could regulate its height. The saddle was very narrow, merely a circle of wood of about eight inches in diameter, and from its middle a huge screw protruded. Margaret brought Sylvie a case in which were a certain number of hardened rubber nozzles of various shapes. She took one, about ten inches long and 2 1/2 inches wide, the extremity of which was large and olive shaped. She gave it to Margaret who fixed it to the screw on the stool, and put vaseline on the erect shaft. She put the stool behind the girl whose arms were still tied. The ropes that held Maria's wrists were unknotted, and immediately she put her hands to her breasts and caressed their red, painful extremities.