Immediately as it subsided she burst into mixed tears of happiness, sadness and relief. I cradled her head in my hands, saying "There there darling, what a good last cum, I'm sure you made the most of it, you'll certainly remember that forever." However I was also trying to be genuinely comforting to her, as I did feel sorry. Nevertheless I reached to the bedside table and picked up the short cuff chain that linked her hands behind her back, and even as I caressed her I gently said "Hands behind your back baby." She sobbed, barely able to pull her hands away from her throbbing pussy, but I gently pulled them and she obeyed. I locked her hands tightly behind her back, ending her last episode of sexual pleasure. She looked truly pitiful, so I kissed her and cuddled her and poured her a glass of water which I fed to her.
However, her final night of use wasn't over yet. I disconnected her wrist chain, sparking a glimmer of hope in her eyes, which died when I reconnected them above her head to the ring in the ceiling. She watched knowingly as I got out my huge black single-tail whip and gave it a practice crack in the air, making her flinch. "One last time honey, I'm gonna relish every stroke and I know you will too." That was the advantage, I thought to myself, of selling her to a labour slave company rather than to an individual or a sexual service - it didn't matter how marked she was when they picked her up as long as her muscular ability for hard labour wasn't impacted.
For the next forty minutes I whipped her thoroughly all over. It was forty minutes of screams, tears, discomfort and of course extreme pain for her, and sheer comfortable erotic delight for me. I took plenty of photos of her to remember, as indeed I had throughout the night. I had never been a precision whipper of girls, preferring more the fear and fun of the unknown that came when I just lashed animalistically at her full naked exposed body. That said, I managed to land blows between her legs, to my absolute satisfaction, though I got even more satisfaction by simply ordering her to keep her legs open constantly despite every instinct in her body screaming at her to close them protectively, and watching her quivering thighs as a result. I also landed great tit shots, and focused for a very long time on turning her little sensitive ass red.
The majority of the blows however landed directly on her front or back. I loved the simple punishment like slavery-treatment aspect of whipping her bare stretched out back - I loved how it was simply pain for causing pain's sake, as it was not an overly erotic area, and it was a big target. However whipping her front had the advantage of being able to watch her face, to look right into her eyes, to study the way her head thrashed and her teeth gritted, her tears, her readjusting stepping legs, the twist of her whole body in pain, the beautiful tension of every muscle clenched. My poor little girl. I felt truly sorry for her with every stroke (I did love her after all), but enjoyed the sight too much to stop.
After one photo I took immediately after a savage hit, a clear flash image which showed her front-on, tears streaking her face, her arms chained above her head and her whole observable body covered in vivid red striped, I told her "That's a gorgeous image, you look so hot in this one, well done. I'm going to frame this and have it on the shelf as my main visual memento of you at your peak."
Finally I got tired, and her final whipping as my girlfriend was complete, a truly emotional stepping stone for both of us, making me feel quite moved. I looked at her, naked and restrained and crying and covered in whip marks, and thought philosophically for a moment. We were two humans, born around the same time as each other in the same country, who lived in the same house together, yet look how different our life experiences were. One human born had gotten lucky in the gender lottery, one hadn't.
No matter how good and obedient a serving slave girlfriend she was, she must have thought very often, such as in times like this when she was restrained and whipped for close to an hour, why her experience had to be the way it was, why she couldn't escape her physical form. Her very own body, the thing we are all born with, was used against her and imprisoned her, whenever her hands and legs were tied or her neck collar leashed to something, trapping her in her own prison of flesh, and when I did something like whip her or force something massive up her tiny asshole, the experience of her body became hell, but she could only lie there, unable to escape, wondering why her life experience was this way, sobbing, wishing she could be anywhere else. But knowing she could not, she served me devotionally anyway. Now it would be her own body that was used against her to imprison her when she would be shackled to the labour cart, deprived the basic human use and free movement of her arms which had evolved to move and hold things and were now turned against her to restrain her forever.
Having had all these thoughts, I decided to really elaborate them to me, so I stood in front of her, looked her in the eye and slapped her hard across the face five times with all my might.
After a few more photos from different angles I unchained her wrists from the ceiling and she staggered forwards into my arms. I reattached her cuffs securing her arms behind her back. I then gave her a deep deep kiss, sticking my tongue down her throat, and she reciprocated, falling into the bed as we made out for ages, her still wincing from her whip cuts every time her body touched anything, but lost in the passionate moment.
Finally disconnecting, I reached off the bed and picked up the chain that attached to her collar every night, locked to the foot of the bed. Looking into her eyes, I clicked the end onto the ring in her permanent neck collar for the last time through our going-to-sleep ritual. That was sad for both of us. But as she moved to get off the bed and onto the floor, as the chain attachment usually indicated she should, I said "Stay on the bed with me." We cuddled up to sleep. I turned the light out, lay on my side-front as I always do when going to sleep, and maneuvered her head down to my ass. "Lick me to sleep for your last night" I said gently, and she parted my cheeks and began to expertly lap at my asshole with her tongue, immediately relaxing me into bliss. In the dark I talked openly to her for a bit while she licked, about how I'd miss her and remembering some of the good times we'd had and how much she meant to me and how I would remember her as a good girlfriend. Then I fell asleep to the continued delightful warm wet feeling of her tongue probing my anus, spending our last night together as was rightful.
We woke together for the last time, to my usual alarm in the morning. As I flipped the covers off us both and watched her open her eyes I could tell she was hoping it was all a bad dream, and slightly panicking as her awake awareness came back to her and she realised this was it. I unlocked her chain from her collar, and sent her to make me a final breakfast.
She brought it to me in bed, where I ate it, and she ate hers beside me, our last meal. Then she lay on the bed and I couldn't resist running my hands all over her, really acknowledging and feeling the reality of this complete girl that I had owned and was now sending out of my life. I felt every curve, feeling her tits and ass, running my hands down her sides, over her belly, up the curves of her back, feeling out along every arm and leg, holding her hands and feet, wrapping my hands around her beck, tracing and squeezing her face, her nose, her ears, her eyes, pushing my fingers inside her mouth and lips, running my fingers through her hair and caressing the shape of her head, fingering her asshole, cupping her vulva and feeling the folds of her vagina. All the things that had belonged to me, pieces of my property.
When I had drunk my fill I clipped a hand leash onto her collar and stood her up off the bed. I led her through the house a last time, as she began to tear up a bit. I led her out of the side door that goes into my garage, and took her to a corner. Ordering her to kneel on the dark cold dusty concrete, I locked her leash to a ring in the wall, explaining "My new girl is getting dropped off very soon, so I want you quiet in here until you're picked up because I don't want her to see you and realise that she's an upgrade. That'll really give her some starting confidence or self-value that I don't want her to have, I'd much rather she didn't know and thought that maybe I'd had plenty of girls hotter than her, to make her feel humble and respect me instantly as her owner. I'll be back for you later, now I don't want to hear a sound." She finally began to cry as I said that, as she suffered the ultimate humiliation of her boyfriend hiding her so as not to show her replacement how much lesser she was. I walked out of the garage, shutting the door and leaving her to sit naked, shivering and thinking.
