Pain Freak (Patreon)

Undressed for her shower, Diane took a moment to walk to the full-length mirror on the door to the bathroom and admire her sweaty body with the reverence it was due. She took a deep breath to swell her chest, then drew her hands up over the abundant curves of her bosom. Her flesh was as warm and supple to the touch as it looked. She pressed her palms down onto her nipples, crushing her billowing hills a little to make the firm flesh bulge out as it would if she was being groped.

“You’re one hot bitch,” she smiled at her reflection. “No wonder John’s eyes popped out when he saw these big tits.”

“So you admit it!” a voice roared from beyond the door. It flew open, revealing Sarah, her face livid with rage.

Diane took a step back, not even moving to cover her naked flesh, she was so startled by the appearance of the other woman. “Sarah! What are you doing here?”

“Hashing things out! You stole my man, you little tramp! As if having Bill isn’t enough for you!”

Diane sniffed disdainfully and tossed her blonde hair. “Steal, hell! You let go of him too easily. If you think you can own John’s cock, you ought to watch it more closely!”

Sarah sputtered for a moment before recovering. “And what about Bill? He works night and day to make you happy, but you’ve just thrown him aside!”

“What’s he missing out on?” Diane asked bitterly. “He’s not here to fuck me. John is. When Bill’s here, I give him all the pussy that he can handle. When he’s gone, I take care of myself. It’s still more than you ever did for him. That’s what you’re really angry about, isn’t it, Sarah? Not only does John prefer me, but Bill did too. I’ve got them both and you just can’t compete—“

Sarah hit Diane with a backhand that knocked her against the wall. Before Diane could fathom that she’d been hit, Sarah slapped her with an open palm, once, twice, three times, then grabbed her by her chic haircut and smashed her head into the towel rack.

“Hha!” Diane cried in pain, a small gash opening on her temple.

Sarah darted behind her, jabbing Diane in the ribs before seizing her hair again. “You dirty slut! There’s just no talking to you! There’s only one way to teach you anything! Goddamn bitch!”

She steered Diane chaotically through her house, knocking her naked body into doorways and walls all the way to the bedroom, where she slammed Diane down into a wooden chair in the corner. Diane’s hands were yanked behind her, her arms around the back of the chair as Sarah tied her wrists together.

“Why do you have rope?” Diane asked uselessly. “Oh my God—what are you going to do to me?”

Then her ankles were tied to the chair’s front legs with firm tugs and sound knots. Her feet were tied against the outside edges of the chair legs, spreading her thighs open until they were forced against the armrests of the chair.

“Diane, I’m going to whip the hell out of you,” Sarah said viciously. She toyed with the length of Diane’s hair while letting the blonde luxuriate in her plight. “What do you think of that?”

But Diane wasn’t thinking about how to get out of her situation. She was remembering the times her sister Winnie had told her about what her boyfriend had done to her: whipping and fucking her like the two were almost the same thing.

Her stories had always held an allure for Diane. How was it that Winnie kept allowing herself to be tied up and whipped? What did it really feel like if Winnie went back for more instead of trying to avoid it; if she seemed to look forward to it happening again and again?

Now Diane was going to find out.

She looked into Sarah’s gloating eyes and took a deep breath. “Do it, slag!” she ordered her.

Sarah didn’t know why, but a tremor went through her groin at Diane’s words. She quickly moved to the dresser, rummaging through its drawers until she found something to whip the bitch with: a thin leather belt that was practically a riding crop.

Diane watched her every move as Sarah returned, folding the slender belt in two, swishing it through the air so that Diane could hear the frightening whisper it made. In passing, she slapped the whip onto the bed. Diane winced at the crack it made against the mattress. She knew that soon, she’d feel that stinging lash on her bare skin.

It happened before she could even finish that thought.

Sarah cracked the belt across Diane’s breasts, catching both nipples with needling precision. Diane arched her body away from the chair, her mouth opened wide to cry out. Sarah quickly grabbed a pillow, ripped off its pillowcase, and jammed that into Diane’s still open mouth, forcing it in as far as she could to cut off Diane’s screaming.

“Oh no. You’ve already gotten too many other people involved in this. You’d probably fuck any man who came running in, just so I couldn’t have him. We’re going to finish this all by ourselves,” she whispered into Diane’s ear, pulling the excess length of the pillowcase around Diane’s head and then tying it to itself so that it was lashed in place, a gag that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard Diane screamed or struggled.

Diane briefly fought to get out of her muzzle, but that left her unprepared for the second lash of the belt. It struck low on her lean belly, leaving a welt that blazed with pure pain. Again Diane’s body bent like a bow, only for her to get a third searing blow across her taut thighs. The blonde tossed her head about, trying to dislodge the tied pillowcase, but it clung to her as fiercely as the pain.

Sarah struck again, this time putting all her strength into slashing Diane’s right breast. She rose a bright red welt just under the nipple, its pain burning into all the turgid swelling of that little pebble.

Diane was in agony. Her body felt like it was being branded. Four white-hot lines crisscrossed her body and then a fifth blow cut across her pubic mound. A muffled scream tore through her gag, but couldn’t get through to anyone except Sarah, who relished the torment Diane was clearly feeling.

Inwardly, Diane pleaded for mercy: No more! It hurts too much, Sarah! Please stop! I won’t ever go near your husband again, him or John, you can have them both!

But even if Sarah could’ve heard her, she had no intention of stopping. As far as she was concerned, Diane was only getting what she had coming, like a shopper getting what they’d paid for. Sarah had held herself back with Bill and with John, trying to be responsible, respectable, mature. It’d taken Diane for the dam of her repressed emotions to finally crack, but now that it had, there was no controlling the flood.

In a way, Sarah saw herself on the bed, not Diane. In her eyes, Diane’s breasts became her own tits, the ones that she’d denied to first Bill, then John, allowing Diane to swoop in on them both. As Sarah brought the whip down again and again, all she saw was her own body jerking and thrashing in complete torment, finally being punished for what a stupid naïf she’d been, letting two wonderful men get away from her.

And Diane could only struggle futilely, tightly bound, a canvas on which Sarah took out her frustration with herself and the two men in her life. But the pain settled deeper into Diane, and deeper, until it was a part of the excitement she felt at being in Sarah’s thrall. Each blow became like a cock pistoning into her, increasing her pleasure more and more. Sarah was whipping her into orgasm!

Diane felt the first hot waves of ecstasy wash over her, harder and rougher than anything she’d ever taken from a man. Her body thrashed and jerked, stomping the chair’s feet up and down as she cried out loudly, testing her gag with each new strike to her hot body.

She thrust herself outward, her entire body tensed, and came wildly, feeling a new rapturous burst with each lash of the whip. Diane eagerly twisted her body, accepting every bit of pain Sarah had to give her.

Seeing Diane’s eyes roll up in her head, Sarah realized what was happening, but she couldn’t stop herself from beating the whip into the other woman. Diane just came and came and came; even when Sarah lashed her cunt, she came against the belt, wetting it and her thighs and the seat of the chair.

Finally, Diane dropped down against the chair’s back, exhausted and satiated. Her body still felt like it was on fire, but it was a cool flame, one that felt wonderful. It’d been such a strong, overwhelming orgasm. If she had to take a whipping to feel a surge like this, she’d do it. Anything was worth this.

Opening her eyes, Diane looked at Sarah. The other woman was staring at her bruised and battered body in disbelief. Diane bled from many of the scores Sarah had landed on her body, yet she trembled in obvious satiation. Diane mumbled into her gag. Sarah reached out and removed it.

Diane worked her jaw for a moment: “That was incredible, Sarah. That was… everything.”

“Didn’t it hurt?”

“Oh God, did it ever! But it—it hurt so much…“ Diane trailed off, body jerking with a pleasurable aftershock.

Sarah almost took a step back, she was so stunned by Diane’s orgasmic response. “You liked that it hurt?”

“Mmmmm…” Diane moaned instead of speaking, her head drifting down against her shoulder.

Sarah bent down and touched Diane’s bare thigh, running a fingertip along one of the cuts as if to check that she truly had inflicted the damage she thought she had. Diane winced, then shuddered again—more satisfaction.

“You dirty, disgusting… pain freak!” Sarah barked, before turning on her heel and stomping out of the room.

Bill could untie her when he got back and Diane could excuse herself however she wanted—the little slut was good at that.