Tim slapped the crop against my pussy about five or six times. I kept crying out, but I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter. My pussy felt like it was on fire and was spilling molten lava down my legs.

I started to breathe a sigh of relief when the crop stopped, only to scream out when I felt the worst possible pain you could ever imagine. My pussy felt like it was being carved off of my body; all my muscles were contracting against each other uncontrollably. My arms wanted to bend, they wanted to straighten, my legs wanted to bend, they wanted to straighten. Even my breath was pushed from my lungs. My body was shuddering with the strain. As soon as Tim stopped doing whatever caused it I started to babble; "Please, please, I'll do anything, just don't do that to me again, pleeeeaaase!"