My lips slowly draws your mound into my mouth until I feel my lips stretching and there is not one more millimetre of you I can draw in, then I suck and suck hard feeling you respond as you draw your legs back a little further. Once more and very slowly I draw my tongue up your slit, pressing it in as it travels, opening you cunt a little until it reaches your clit to circle it before tracking it's way back to your perineum, lingering there for awhile, slowly twisting from side to side as I contemplate moving lower to press against your puckered hole but no I will leave that pleasure for another time. My tongue presses a little harder now opening you up a little more before circling your clit again this time remaining long enough to slap your delicious bud several times before once again travelling down your slit this time pressing in as far as I can force it into you to drag it across the floor of your vault.

Now I begin a rhythmic routine dragging my tongue up and down your slit, feeling your lips swell with blood as your breathing becomes a little deeper and ragged, pressing deep into you until I must draw away to get a breath of my own; allowing myself a few moments to look ever so closely at your warm, wet and swelling gash of flesh, I'm drawn to your clit, it's hood stretching across it's swollen bud, inviting me to draw it back with fingers to expose your gland to my teeth and tongue, slap, slap and slap again my tongue slaps your swollen gland before pressing back it your cunt to fuck into you as hard and as fast as I can, slapping your gland again this time pressing my teeth down to press against its base, then slowly drawing up its length, then slapping it again; the whole time I'm being intoxicated by your taste and scent.

Feeling your climax start to stir in you, I must control my urge to fuck four or more fingers into you, searching for your squirt, as it' your first warm gush of climax I want now. I want to take you into my mouth feeling your go beyond your point of control, causing me to dig my fingers into your flesh to hold on to you as you start to convulse and rhythmically fuck your swollen Mons and lips across my mouth smearing my lips and face with your delicious juice and cream giving me that taste I love.

Thank you young lady; now; on your knees.

The hand holds me in the comfortable and assured manner it always holds me, from the moment the hand picked me up I knew I was in a comfortable place and what was about to happen.This hand has selected me on several occasions always returning me satisfied, sated and sometimes a portion of my far end, that end furthest from the hand is covered in her blood.

The hand flexes and I travel through short arcs almost invisible to the world around me but it’s my cue that the hand will lift and place me against the naked flesh again, just below the raised mark of the 16th strike. I'm rested against her flesh as the hand waits for her breathing to come back to its smooth even rhythm and the composure return to her posture as she prepares herself for my return. The hand draws me back and forth along her flesh, parallel to each of my previous visits to this warm willing flesh.

The hands moves and I feel myself lifted along the familiar arc to that place reserved only for me, far above everything in the room, I see the parallel marks of my previous strikes and prepare myself for the flexibility needed for what is to come, I hear the room silent of every sound except her breathing and the thunder of anticipation only I can hear.
It begins; the hand moves down along its prepared arc and I feel myself flexing as the displaced air in my path begins to whistle, the speed building; faster and faster; the faster I move the more I flex. Knowingly I wait for it; There it is, the hand flicks, I've felt the acceleration it creates so many times before and now we are there; Smack; we have contact, glorious hard and sharp contact.

Her flesh turns to white along my impact line and shock waves ripple across her flesh a moment before I feel the silent scream of her shock.
My moment of impact is over, drawn away to watch the mayhem left behind I see her clenching buttock and arched back and hear the moan that fills the room intoxicating all who hear it. Limbs pull against restraints as the white line of contact turns red and the pain courses through her body releasing endorphins to rush to her brain to subdue the climatic orgasm of pain.

The hand moves gently to her flesh, I hear the soft firm voice testing her, measuring everything known about her, reaching into her soul to determine if that last glorious strike will be her last cane strike today.