Its my birthday this week and time for my spanking. I am not sure we can even call it a spanking – its more like a whipping and a beating. I am turning 22, and will be paying dearly for every year at the hands of your paddles and whips. I am chained onto my hands and knees and you grab and squeeze my tight ass. You rub it almost as if you want me, but I know better – I am a worthless fuckpig that doesn’t get to be happy. Not even on my birthday.
Secretly though, I crave the pain you’re about to inflict and I am looking forward to ever smack and bruise that I get today. You start with a wooden paddle and make me count out loud as you hit me so hard with the wooden board that it takes my breath away. One… two… three… four… You swing the paddle even harder as I start to choke on my words and can barely count. Five… six… seven… eight… Again and again you strike me so hard that tears are running down my face.
Then you get your leather cattle whip. The blows come hard and swift with no mercy. Nine… ten… eleven… twelve… thirteen… I see stars and can feel blood trickling down from the open wounds that the whip is making across my tight ass. I see you cock getting hard in your pants from the sight of blood and I know my ass will get fucked today too. Fourteen… fifteen… sixteen… seventeen… eighteen… nineteen… I know there are only three strikes left and you make the most of it. You hit me so hard on twenty that I bite through my own tongue trying to speak the word. The taste of my blood fills my mouth and my tongue swells as you deliver the last two blows. Twenty-one… Twenty-two… Happy fucking birthday to me…