[Tommytomjj]

Miss wasted no time in starting the spanking, as the first blow delivered to my left cheek made me realise just how painful the next few minutes were about to be.

“Count them out loud slave, I want to be able to hear the number as you cry into the pillow with your mouth open.”

I try to say “one” but all that comes out is a loud, pitiful noise, not closely resembling any word of any language.

Miss laughs, knowing I had no chance. “You’ll attempt to say every number slave, and if I lose count, I’ll be relying on you to be able to tell me where I’m up to.”

She was evil. I knew her plan but there was no way I could stop it. When she was going to ask me what number we were on, I knew I would be unable to tell her, and that she’d start again. I knew my own destiny, but there was no way I could prevent it.

Miss continued her first twenty spanks with the ruler, before switching sides and mirroring her work.
They were painful, and by the end of them I was close to tears, but I knew there was far worse to come.

“Lift your head up slave.” Miss commanded.

As I obeyed, Miss burst into laughter at the amount of drool already on the pillow, and the stream still connecting my face to the pillow.

“I don’t know what’s funnier slave, your pathetic ability to control your own mouth, or the colour your ass is turning.” She said, as she showed me a photo she had taken just a second earlier. My ass was already crimson red, naked and vulnerable and it was only going to get worse.

Miss forced my head back into the soaked pillow, and picked up the hairbrush. She began the spanks with the bristled end, causing as much surface area damage impact as possible, and laughing as my body twitched with each spank. One again I attempted to count them out loud, but my screams were muffled, and at the end of the next set of forty, Miss once again showed me my broken ass. I thought the first one was bad, but the red had darkened, and spread across the entirely of my ass, rather than just a singular small circle. My whole ass felt like it was on fire, stinging relentlessly.

Miss barely gave me a moment to compose myself before continuing with the flogger. The pain instantly hit another gear and I began to feel my ass welt, and maybe even bleed. I was no longer holding back the tears, my eyes, nose and mouth all watering into the pillow as I sobbed with each stroke. I cried each number, rather than shout it, and I think even Miss realised she was putting me through a lot, but she did not hold back.

This time, she forcefully pulled my head back, revealing the mess I had created on the pillow, almost catching her by surprised the amount of crying I had done.

“You’re pathetic slave.” Is all she stated, before showing me the red, bruised, bloody mess that was my ass. I had never seen anything like it, and the final instrument was yet to come.

The cane was unbearable. The first hit made me shriek in terror as I felt it open up my skin, and Miss laughed harder than she ever had. I tried to compose myself, tensed my body more than ever before and bravely accepted the remaining strikes.

I think even Miss felt that asking me to tell her the number would have been too far, and she stopped after the original total decided upon was reached.

She quickly grabbed some lotion and a towel, and carefully cured any serious wounds, before snapping the final photo.

To my disappointment, she did not let me see it.