THE STUD walked into the dungeon silently to where Claudia was chained up, on his way he collected a whip from the punishment bench. He knew exactly how far away to stand to make the whipping hurt to its fullest extent, so that just the last 500mm of whip curled around and caught her body exactly right, leaving, long reddening welts across her back and both breasts, the welts encompassed her torso.
Claudia was still asleep after being abused by her Mistress last night, she was as relaxed as she could get given the confines of her shackles. She was on tiptoes just and her head was bowed down laying over her uplifted right arm, her long hair falling over her eyes, her breathing made her breast gently swell up and down as her stomach growled with hunger. She had to learn how to sleep like this quickly or else she would remain very tired throughout the day; it was tiredness that led to many of her punishments for tardiness during the first two weeks or so.
THE STUD let the whip fall silently and drag on the floor as he closed to the distance he wanted, the whip snaking behind him, curled, menacingly wicked ready to inflict hurt on his wretched, poor defenceless victim. He enjoyed his job immensely for he was a sadist at heart. He was glad he got to break new slaves both sexually and also inflict cruel, painful, and unjust punishments, he loved watching the slave he was beating body contort with pain and the face with fear and tears.
He really enjoyed the first week or so of breaking a new slave, because it took that long for it to register in their brain, that they were no longer free but now just a slave, to be used by depraved MASTERS or MISTRESSES to play and punish with.
With his arm stretched out behind him he quickly swung it forward, they long whip picked up speed and curled around Claudia's defenceless breasts. CRACK went the whip as the tip broke the sound barrier and then bit deeply into the sufferer's flesh.
Claudia felt the lash of the whip on her breasts and around her back, making her scream in anguish as she danced on the chains trying to escape the next blow. That first whiplash was the worst for her, until it hit her she was comfortable at home in bed, wrapped in a nice warm duvet in her mind and not in a cold dark and dank dungeon.
A thin red cruel line was raised on her breast and back as a reminder of the path the whip had travelled around and over her body, slowly radiating from this line, was a hue of deep angry red-pink mark fading to flesh about 30mm wide. Whilst at the very tip of the lash mark a small droplet of blood was beginning to form. She tensed her body ready for the next blow, she knew THE STUD was an expert in using the whip, because it was a weekly occurrence always on a Monday and always that first blow delivered whilst she was sleeping.