She was so close that he felt her nipples against his chest, always a delight. He stared into her vivid blue eyes, always reveling with excitement. He touched her cheeks, ran fingers over her lips, then up over eyes to the bangs, gently pushing them up, her face always so beautiful. Especially now in the late afternoon sun. He ran his hands over to her upraised arms and down along the armpits, always ticklish there. Yet she held back her usual giggles, biting at her lips. He never liked gagging her for she was always so quiet except in the most extreme moments, and then she always screamed so well. He continued to stare into her eyes watching the slightest show of emotion as he ran his hand over her firm breasts. Then took hold of each nipple and began to squeeze, tug, twist. Just to watch the grimace change her acquiescent face, always such wonderful moment. He stood there playing with her for several moments then stopped at the 'ahem'. He nodded in recognition, then stepped back taking the nipples with him and making her sway towards him. Then to let go and watch her sway. Her lithe body so elegant. The cuffs up against the pulley allowed her to make a quarter turn in either direction, her toes just a few inches off the ground. A hand on his shoulder gently edge him back a few more steps. Then the two men on either side of her began their work. The first whip wrapped around just below her rib cage, the second around the widest part of her hips. Coming from different directions when they were yanked away she twisted at the waist, the upper and lower parts moving in different directions. Yet she did not scream at the first initial stings and the follow up scraping of skin by the yanking off. The men now began to alternate and the next pair of stripings appeared on her waist. The third pair were lower on the hips and the thighs below her shaved camel toe. The next pair came closer to her hood as the blood flow into that area pushed her pudendum outward, the nub of her clit hood appearing. The last pair moved up her body to caress just under her breasts. She was given a momentary rest as she hung silently her face trying to keep looking back at him. He usually got an erection the moment she appeared just naked. And long before he'd finished caressing her, probing, binding her, and watching her struggles, he'd have climaxed. Thus when the first touch of a whip bounced both breasts he had to excuse himself back into the mansion. When he returned he saw the bright line and just wanted to go to her and massage her sore spots, kiss her beckoning lips and be inside her once more. But that was not part of the bargain. The two men took up where they had paused and she twisted to next nine touches along her belly and hips. Another moment's rest then the men returned to her breasts. She gasped after each new layer of pain, her voice rising, quivering, and then the first scream. Yet she did not call out to stop, no code word to be used, that too was part of the bargain. If she said stop the whipping would stop for the men were not sadists, only performing a job paid by the hour, not by stroke, or strength of arm. He was quiet, a hand to his face to cover his own quivering lips. The other in his pants pocket moving over to grip the tip of his cock from exploding. She was given two minutes rest after the first fifty. She hung her head to her side, panting so hard her breasts moved forward and back. The men watched with admiration. And noted her labia exposure and the first drop of arousal. She looked at each man and gave a nod. And gasped at the next ten laid upon her thighs. She swung her legs freely trying to ward off the next touch but that only caused the tips to land closer to her throbbing clit. These men were definitely superb masters of the whip. One rounded behind her leg to move upward and caress her mound. The next cut a line across her bottom just at the thighs. Another round her back to snap at the nipple. The next moved between her legs to leave a line along the inside of the crack of her cheeks. She squirmed, tried grabbing at the pulley to raise herself somehow up out of the reach of the whips but of course that was impossible. A swift snap that cut deeply into a breast brought her back down to receive a line across the mound just above the hood. She began to hang without struggling, accepting the last twenty strokes of the bargain. And still she did not yell stop. Tears ran from her yes, her voice already giving out to the extreme screams. He watched, swallowing hard, his body wanting release, his mind wanting to yell out stop, but that too would end the bargain. Instead he stood with tears on his face as he watched the ropes try to find untouched parts of her body. A cut deep into one armpit shook her violently and the swing of her head downward caught the next whip, leaving a line along her jaw. She looked at him during the pause before the final ten strokes of the bargain. She mouthed the words "I love you" to him but was otherwise silent. He started to turn away but had to see this out. The two men hand landed 90 strokes while standing on the side of her, now they move to almost in front and began flicking between her legs. The first couple lined each inner thigh. Then the horizontal lines on her belly and mound were layered with vertical lines. The 98th stroke touched her clit and she bucked and swung and shivered and her bladder released. They let her finish then each man napped at a nipple, neither landing directly but adding a near vertical line on each breast. Then they just let her hang, her throat too dry to scream anymore. He stood just a few feet in front of her, one hand still in his pants pocket, the other wiping his tears away. Staring at her sweet face, the eyes sad, the lips bleeding from all her bites, her breasts so red and reddish brown, a few jerks of her lower body as the last of her orgasms died away. He wished someone had made a video of this. He wanted a painting of her, doubled full size done of her now to be put up in his study. And he wanted to drop his pants and spread her legs and feel her most feminine muscles holding him, tearing open his coat and shirt to feel her sore breasts against him, grip her bangs and kiss the blood on her mouth away. And just stay that way with her all night long. But he did not do that. There was an 'ahem' and one of the men touched his arm. "You finally won a bet." The man said and began to count out ten one hundred dollar bills. "Now you have enough for you and the Missus to start over again." He could not look at the pain that was on her face now, so turned and went back inside to relieve his desire, his frustration, and his loss. His wife had watched thru the window in the study. The last rays of sunlight highlighted her wearing only wrists bands cuffed to her thighs, and a hard leather gag. She watched with glee as the second man tied the younger woman's legs together and then to the bumper of the old style tow truck, the other man pushing an old rang into her mouth. Then when he returned she walked over to her husband, the one who had gambled her jewelry, the furniture, cars, the mansion, the investments, and bank accounts all away. She glared at him as she passed out of the unlit building onto the driveway. A drop of rain splattered on her left size D. He came out also and watched his ex-secretary disappear beyond the mansion gate. "I hoped they would give us a ride. If we hurry we can catch the 11:15 at the train station." He picked up the two bags and started down the drive. She stood there for a moment, her hair wasn't as cute as the other woman's. Her breasts not as firm. Her ass worn of years of caning. But the young bitch was no longer around. A rain drop splattered on the other size D. What the hell, she muttered against the gag. She still loved him. And began to follow him. He looked back. He was getting aroused again, the way those D's swung when she walked, always a delight. He'd bet anyone that he could pause to hump her against a tree and still make the train.