Testing Limits

Gal Ritchie shows up hungry for marks. The Pope puts her face-down on a padded sawhorse and gets straight to it. He swings the flogger across her back, then switches to the crop, beating a steady rhythm on her ass. He kneads the flesh between blows and hits her again with both tools. More lashes land. Then he pins a line of clothespins down her spine and starts slapping her bare ass with the rubber baton, the ribbed one, his bare hand. Every strike makes her shake, but she stays quiet and takes it. He likes that. He presses the Hitachi between her legs and lets her come hard. Next he hauls her into the air. She hangs with her pussy balanced on a sharp wooden wedge, arms locked behind her. He swings the leather hammer, then the two-strap whip, striping her ass, thighs, and the very tips of her tits. Sweat shines on her skin. He likes that too. He grabs Fluffy and whips her stomach until it glows. When she still doesn’t tap out he clips mousetraps onto her nipples, crops the trapped flesh, then rewards her with the vibe again. He rips the traps free and stretches her sore nipples with the cane. Finally she’s on her back on a hard table. The Pope studies the welts and bruises already coloring her. He runs two fresh rows of clothespins up her torso and makes her wait, body twitching. Only when he’s ready does he press the vibrator to her clit and yank every pin off at once, sending her over the edge while the sting blooms across her chest.