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Review This Story || Author: Chum

Dare To Grow

Chapter 16

	Chapter 16

	I slept late again, only this time I woke feeling bright, rested, happy
with the universe, and no longer tender or sore in my delicate places.  Dr.
Franks arrived for another conference with a beaming smile on his face.

	"Excellent, excellent," he enthused, "quite the most exciting and
inventive performance in longer than I care to remember.  Not one member of the
team left before the finale.  I still can't figure out how all six of you got
into that last grouping.

	"Jan, I've never said anything like this before, but with a bit more
training and experience I think you could be the Mozart of extreme sex.

	"I'm here to advise you that we have something unusual, indeed
unprecedented, planned for this evening.  As I assume you know, this facility,
both clinic and resort, are privately owned.  You may have assumed me to be the
owner, but that would be incorrect.  A handful of very wealthy men and women
hold interests, but one man founded and has a controlling interest in our
operation.  Very few people are aware of the identities of our owners, just a
handful of staff.  I trust you will, therefore, keep this information in
confidence."  I was puzzled, but nodded my head yes.

	"Because of your remarkable performance, the founder has decided to
personally participate in a show in the main lounge.  Just the two of you will
perform, and the script will involve going both ways.  It will start with you
receiving a whipping from him.  After that, he will submit for such retribution
as you decide to inflict upon him if you have accepted yours well.  At the very
least he expects a beating of equal ferocity, but there will be no limitations
imposed, other than dictated by the available implements and props."

	

	That night my trusty friends, Nate and Abe, provided an escort.  I wore
a silver eye mask that covered half my forehead down to the top of my cheeks.  I
was dressed in a radiant silver robe and wore matching silver heels.  Under the
robe I was nude.  As we entered I saw a tall, well proportioned man with wavy
salt and pepper hair already on the stage.  He had a strong jaw and full,
expressive mouth, but that was all I could tell because he had a black mask from
the top of his forehead, almost to the tip of his nose.  He was barefoot, but
wore a long black robe that reflected the light.

	Also on the stage was a small, crotch high table with light padding on
the top, and a few feet away was a saddle about the same height as the table. 
There was also a rack of whips and other things I couldn't distinguish from that
distance.

	We proceeded down the isle in a slow, solemn procession, reminding me of
the pomp of a church ceremony.  When I finally stood before him, his lips set in
a slight smile, my escorts backed away.  I was getting into the mood, and all I
could think of to do was slowly open my robe.  I brought it off my shoulders and
down my arms, then dropped it to the floor.  I lowered my eyes and slowly went
down to one knee, sweeping my arms back and bowing.

	He said in a deep voice, "Arise my precious one and prepare for three
tests of your worthiness.  First, you will receive thirty strokes on your lovely
ass.  Second, I will administer thirty lashes upon your exquisite breasts. 
Finally, you shall suffer thirty blows upon your most tender organs.  If you
bear each of these trial bravely, without complaint or attempts to avoid the
instrument of your torture, I shall then submit myself in homage to your
greatness, and attempt to withstand your choice of trials with as much courage."

	I could have heard a pin drop in the crowded room as he finished
speaking.  With a sweeping gesture of his arm he bade me rise and walk to the
saddle.  I noticed there were no straps, chains or cuffs, and a thrill went
through me, realizing how severe the test was to be.

	I faced the saddle and laid down over it with my buttocks thrust back. 
Then I spread my legs as far apart as I could and still keep my feet on the
floor.  To my delight, instead of a whip, crop or strap on my ass, I felt strong
hand caressing the cheeks.  Gently spreading them, his lips came to my crack. 
He kissed my bud, then my bare labia.  His skilled tongue soon explored up and
down my sex, raising the temperature of my organs like a thermometer in boiling
water when he sucked my clit into his mouth.

	I was right on passions edge when he left me.  A moment later he was at
my lowered head, offering me the wooden handle of a leather strap to kiss.  I
did so, reverently.

	"Uuhh," I cried, as the first blow crossed both cheeks of my ass.  I was
so aroused that the jolt from the heavy strap and its stinging pain just added
fuel to my fire.  By the tenth strike my ass was moving like a cat in heat,
begging for more.  This provocative display inflamed my master's arm, and the
force of each blow increased until the strap was driving me against the saddle.

	

	The master was fiendish with the last ten lashes.  He move aside just
enough so that the belt would not reach to both cheeks, and his first attempt
brought the pointed tip of the strap against the sensitive patch of skin between
my cunt and asshole.  "Eeeeaaah," I let loose for real, struggling desperately
for the first time to maintain my position.  The next swing he made the tiny
adjustment needed to find his real target, sending the tip into the center of my
anal opening.  This time the agony was so stunning my knees buckled.  My scream
nearly deafened me as I struggled with the brain chemicals which were telling my
legs to collapse.

	No amount of arousal could make that pain easy for my body to absorb,
and I stopped worrying about spoiling the show with a premature orgasm and
started just trying to straighten back into position.  He paused, realizing I
wasn't trying to evade, and when I was able to raise my ass back into position,
I deliberately showed my willingness by thrusting it further back.

	I was better prepared for the next snap against my anal bud, going on to
suffer another four direct hits without collapsing.  I heard the strap drop to
the floor, and again his mouth ministered to my swollen anal ring, soothing and
restoring my arousal.

	He bade me rise.  I turned to him, my head held high and my back
straight.  Then he took my hand in his and we proceeded to the table as though
going to meet the Queen.

	Moving gracefully, I knelt on the table with my knees on the edge.  I
spread my legs as far apart as I could, then leaned back to clasp my hands on my
ankles, forcing my spine into an arched position.  With my hips raised and my
chest nearly facing the ceiling, a shiver of excitement ran through me at the
way this exhibited my naked groin and tits to the audience.  In this position I
could raise my head to see my upthrusting mounds, but decided it would be more
erotic for the audience if I left my neck bent back.  Looking out into the
darkened room with eyes upside down, I could only wait.

	He leaned over my left breast, caressing it tenderly, bringing his lips
and tongue to arouse the brown aureole and my thick, distended nipple.  When it
was fully engorged he left it and moved to the other side, trailing his finger
across my pubic arch as he moved.  My strained rib cage rose and fell with
anticipation as he stimulated my right mammary.

	This time he presented the dreaded crop for my kiss.  I braced myself
for the bruising assault to come.  I had seen it in action, and wielded it
myself the night before, but I had not tasted it myself.

	He used the little loop of leather on the end of the crop to tease my
nipples and curving breast mounds, then struck without warning.  Sounding like
the crack of doom, the end of the stalk buried in the resilient flesh below my
right nipple.  I could feel the shape of my mound distort, then jerk en masse
toward my shoulder.  The bruising pain registered about the time it was
rebounding.  "Eeeiiaaah," I pierced the air with this new insult to my being, my
tit flesh still quivering.

	

	I strained to go deep enough into that primal corner of my mind to
survive, holding on to the idea that soon I would master the ability to turn
pain into pleasure at will. "Just hold on a little longer," I thought to myself,
over and over again.

	"Thwack," came the next strike, creasing the top of my left breast. 
"Aauugh," I gurgled, spittle escaping my wide open mouth.  I couldn't stop my
head from raising up, expecting to see a gaping wound at the site of the fiery
pain.  The skin was blessedly intact, but a bright red mark was rising to an
angry welt.

	My whole body jerked and undulated under the brutality of the crop, and
the jerking of my rib cage sent my pliable tits into a gyrating wobble that made
accurate targeting difficult for the master. With my stiff nipples flailing
about, the inevitable happened.  The leather loop caught my right nipple a
square blow, driving the sensitive nub deep into the surrounding flesh.  The
pain was so intense I choked on my scream, turning it into a gagging sound.

	And that's when the magic happened.  I became lost to my surroundings,
heedless of anything but the delicious pain.  Muscles which had been near
exhaustion from holding my position, now eagerly obeyed the command to arch up
further in invitation.  An electric connection formed between my nipples and my
throbbing clit, sending me into bliss as I shouted, "Harder . . hit them harder
. . make me suffer . . Oh, yes, yes."

	I lost all dignity.  Collapsing on my back, my legs flailing around off
the edge of the table, I grabbed the base of my tits with each hand.  He stood
above my right side.  I looked up into his lust filled eyes and offered my
nipples to him by squeezing my breasts to steady and raise them toward the
poised crop.  I forced my body to still as my orgasm subsided to a steady
throbbing need, unable to completely tame a weak thrusting motion of my pelvis.

	The crop whistled down on my left nipple, bulging the flesh above my
gripping finger.  My only reaction as I held my gaze on master's eyes, was a
soft "uh," repeated again and again as the tip of the crop moved from nipple to
nipple with unerring accuracy.

	This time he dropped to his knees and lifted me with his arms around my
lower back.  I let my back arch, my face lifting toward the ceiling as I offered
my suffering breasts to his mouth.  The light touch of his lips made the burning
pain all the more delicious.

	After he stood up he told me to present myself for the third trial. 
Having my nether region whipped for the first time was not something I had been
anxious to undertake, but I was aroused and determined to pass this last test. 
"What the hell," I thought, staying where I was on the table and raising my
legs.  I pulled them back with my hands, bringing my knees down into the crook
of each elbow beside my tits, spreading my thighs and presenting my upturned
genitals to the master.  He now held a cat, only this one had knots in the ends
of each tail. 

	

	This time no preliminary fondling, he just presented the long handle for
a kiss.  With no easy thigh strokes, as if determined to break me, he brought
the tails squarely down on my sex.  They made a sound like a hand slapping
water, but much louder.  Digging into my soft pink tissues, the little knots
doubled the torture inflicted by the rest of each thong.  Although I couldn't
suppress a scream at this new and agonizing source of sensation, a small inner
part of me rejoiced, knowing I was discovering the most powerful source of
ecstacy yet.

	He attacked my cunt with abandon, bringing it down in long looping
swings of his arm and upper body.  Not once did he stop moving to let me adjust,
but kept up a relentless "splat . . splat .. splat."  The individual lancing
pains gave way to a throbbing fire, the white hot center of which was my
thrusting clit, which caught attention over and over.  I matched his pace with
rising and falling cries.

	The fire in my groin kept me at a pitch of arousal where it seemed I
could make the choice to orgasm at will.  I was suddenly in a place where I had
the desire to torture myself by denying the climax my body craved. And as I held
off, I knew that each moment of denial would be rewarded by a higher level of
bliss.

	I was still in this space when the whip dropped and his mouth came down
to my burning clitoris.

	I erupted  as soon as the suction of his mouth brought his tongue
against my rigid little shaft.  My cunt spewed so hard it wet his chin.  He gave
my clit a long mouth fuck, and unlike a man's short climax, my orgasm discharged
a steady stream until my body gave out and I collapsed.



Review This Story || Author: Chum
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