The wolf woman was suspended from the ceiling upside down. Shackles were attached to her ankles, and her hands were cuffed behind her back. Her lemon-yellow fur with forest green patches was one of the prettiest patterns her master had ever laid his eyes upon, and he took a moment to drink in her beauty. She saw his boots first as he approached. She dared look up a little and saw he was carrying a long riding crop.
"Good morning Melissa," he said in a singsong voice.
"Good morning, Master," she replied, happy to see him.
"Did you sleep well like that?" he asked.
"Yes, Master."
"Are we ready for another day of training?"
"Absolutely, Master."
"Good," he said, giving her a quick whack of the whip on her thighs. Melissa yipped from the quick strike, but held her composure. The two thirty-somethings had been married for seven years, and it was only for the past two that they had developed a master and slave relationship. It was Melissa's idea; she had to really coax Brad into doing this for her, but once they tried a few sessions, he grew into the role and now relished it.
She was a pain-slut and had her most ferocious orgasms when he was tanning her ass, tearing her asshole open with his thick cock, or flogging her large breasts. He was a fox, and much shorter than his wife, but she relished having a shorter man dominate her in every way possible. Brad pulled up a folding metal chair next to the bound beauty and slipped off his boots.
"You know what to do, love," he commanded.
"Yes, Master," she obediently replied. He put his left, black foot-paw in front of her muzzle, and she immediately went to work inhaling his scent and licking his paw. Her tongue was much larger than his, and it felt amazing having the giant tongue licking the soles of his foot-paw. She slipped her tongue in between each toe, worshipping the heel, the ball of his foot, the instep, every nook and cranny.
Brad started to gently whip her breasts with the long whip while she unwaveringly devoted herself to bathing his foot in the most luxurious foot bath a tongue could give. Her fur was rather thin, and the lemon-yellow color did little to hide the welts the whip was making. She was getting dark red stripes on her beautiful breasts, all while never failing to pleasure her master's foot.
He switched to the other foot and she repeated the same process all over again. He carefully aimed for her nipples with the whip, and she squeaked with each strike. Brad began to move the strikes to her belly, then her thighs with the long reach of the whip. She moaned and groaned with pleasure and pain as he continued to turn her body into a canvass for his art. He then focused on whipping her dripping wet pussy.
She squealed when the stinging leather smacked into her tender flesh, but her devotion to his feet never faltered even as the pain increased. She was huffing and sniffling, trembling in her binds as Brad continually whipped her pussy. "Hold it, girl. You're not going to cum until I say so," he warned her.