By Louetta


This is part 5 of an 8 part saga of my adventure with
some of my brother's college friends when I was eighteen.



He gave me a minute. All I could do was hang limply
from my handcuffs trying desperately to get some kind
of composure back but the ordeal was becoming too much
and I hung my head and closed my eyes and wept with
the pain that seemed to numb my entire lower body. The
girl gave me water and tried to clean me up a little
so I could continue. Then behind her, in front of me,
I saw the guy standing, looking at me, waiting. She
finished her ministrations and all that was left in
front of me was him. 

I knew what he wanted. Whipping my ass was all fine
and good but the essence of a girl is the front of
her, her breasts and her cunt and that is what he
wanted. He would use those to break me. His eyes
fairly bored their way into my pale white tits. My
pale white tits. They were next. I tried to gather
strength for what was to come but my body had other
ideas. I was half frozen with fear. I was weak with
the pain of what had already been done to me. Pain and
fear are a tough combination. Simply holding myself up
took an effort. I was aware of every ache in my body.
Escaping was hopeless. I tried writhing and squirming
and pulling and all I did was make my wrists start to
bleed, make my breath come in short gasps and the
sweat pour down the front of me. 

Once again he talks to me. All I have to do is relent.
All I have to do is agree to fuck them and the
whipping ends. All I have to do is surrender my
moist pink pussy and in return my pale white breasts
will be spared. All I had to do was surrender to the
hunky guys who stand shirtless out there in the crowd,
whether they have girlfriends or no. I closed my eyes 
and felt his fingers caress my nude body. Every inch 
of me shivered with pleasure as the touch of his hand warmed me.
Gently he stroked my smooth young flesh, his hand ever
closer to my cunt, from my tits down over my ribs to
the flat plain of my tummy. I felt the blood pumping
in my willing body and I moaned softly and pumped my
hips like I was fucking somebody. I felt his finger in
my bellybutton then in the sparse brown hair that
guarded my cunt. Then he was opening me up and I
flinched as he found my clit. All you have to do, all
you have to do is say yes and this pleasure replaces
the pain that still aches in every fiber from your ass
to your knees. All you have to do is surrender that
soft young body. I thought about it. I really did. All
I had to do was say yes and the torment ends. I looked
him in the eye. My whole body trembled with the
excitement of having his fingers inside me, inside me,
with two hundred people watching. All I have to do is
say my soft young body is his. 

But it isn't. It's mine. I said no.

"Tit time," he whispered and my heart sank. He stepped
back and took up his whip. The three stranded one. I 
never even thought he was supposed to use the smaller 
one to do my boobs. I closed my eyes and heard
the familiar hiss through the air and it started. For
the next ten minutes he stood three feet away from me
and did nothing but whip my bare breasts. First one,
then the other. On the tops, on the nipples, on the
sides, on the bottoms, across my ribs, both together,
each alone. At first I loved every second of it, the
bite of the whip, the heaving of my bare bosom, the
pounding of my heart, the sweat that poured off me. 

The joy of being whipped, whipped hard, over and over
and over. I'm as helpless as I've ever been in my
life. He can do whatever he wants to me. My body drips
with sweat and my eyes fill with tears. Yet I never
think of trying to get away, trying to get away from
the sweet suffering that he offers me with every
stroke of the whip. I struggle desperately and the
more I do the more the handcuffs cut my wrists until
little streaks of blood begin to trickle down my
forearms. Little streaks of blood appear around each
nipple as the force of the whip cuts into the soft 
skin that surrounds them.

Over and over he hits me. On and on I feel the pain.
Slowly inch by inch my courage slips away and now I
scream every time he hits me. Every time he hits me.
My breasts. My full, round, eager young breasts. Soft,
white, tender in the heat of the sun. I shiver with
fear, weep with pain, my body hot with passion. My
cunt is wet and aching, the smell of sex from my own
body is intoxicating. 

Over and over I hear the whistle of the whip through
the air and feel the crack of the blow against my
skin, feel the pain as the wide strip of leather cuts
cruelly into my bosom. I feel the shock of the blow,
the leap of my body against its bonds, the writhing
with the pain. The searing pain which spreads from the
site of the fine red welt and registers throughout my
whole helpless body, the cry that escapes my lips, the
silent plea for mercy. Every thing around me seems to
fade away. All thoughts of time recede. I know pain in
every inch of my body. I can no longer control the
fear that wells up inside me. Nothing I've ever
experienced has been as bad as this. 

Another guy comes forward and stands behind me pushing
me forward, pushing my tits closer to my tormenter,
making it harder for me to avoid the lash and my
breasts are thrust forward, making tempting targets
for the instrument that tortures them. They tremble
wantonly after every blow and every inch of me begs
for release from the fiery pain that consumes them and
my heart is pounding, pounding, racing out of control.


My body thrashes from side to side with each blow,
over and over and over, I cry out for mercy, I plead
for help, I scream for relief, from the searing pain,
from the increasing numbness that invades my whole
body, my senses dim, colors fade, sounds become a
hollow rush, I see flashes of light,  every sensation
fades away except the excruciating pain in my tits
that gets worse and worse and worse as he hits me
again and again and again and I scream and I cry and I
scream and I cry and I scream and I cry and suddenly I
can stand it no longer.

"All right, all right, all right, all right, I'll do
it, I'll do it, I'll do it, I'll do it, just stop,
just stop, just stop, just stop!"

And he stopped. And for an instant I hung there held
up only by my chains. Then I tried to raise my head.
And everything went black.

I had passed out from my whipping. Hanging there in
handcuffs, naked and helpless, my arms stretched over
my head, legs spread as wide as they would go. I don't
think I was out very long. First thing I remember
through the haze, my arms had been released and people
were holding me up, which was nice since when they cut
me down after we were put on display earlier in the
day they had cut my wrists free and just let me fall
to the ground. My feet were still chained. They had
put a padlock on the chain and they were having
trouble finding the right key or getting it to work.
There were a lot of angry words exchanged, many of
them beginning with f, but finally they got me free. 

They took me over to the side of the hill into the
shade and made me sit down. The girl who had been
ministering to me gave me some water and someone
produced some candy bars because they were afraid I
might be weak from hunger. Whatever the case I was
starving. I hadn't eaten since eleven and it was after
four now. I'm thin but I can eat with the best of
them. 

After some water and nourishment I began to feel
better and they returned to treating me more like a
girl who was being tortured than a girl who had
fainted. I was asked to stand up and they bound both
my wrists tightly behind me and then pulled my elbows
as close together as they could manage and tied them.
I heard someone say they wanted to see my tits stick
out and though I don't have big tits tying my elbows
did the trick. There were a number of guys standing
nearby who clearly appreciated said tits and my
helplessness. Then I was forced to sit down again.
Even though it was close to one hundred degrees in the
sun I was chilly in the shade after sitting a few
minutes. I was soaking with sweat from having been
whipped and now in the shade it made me cold. 

The girl who was helping me dried me off as best she
could and took off her own blouse and draped it over
my shoulders, so at least I was only half naked, the
first time I hadn't been completely nude since we had
gotten there. This now made her half naked because she
had no bra on even though she needed one. 

Anyway, she had large tits and I complimented her on
them. So did a few of the guys. I have less than
average sized tits though I'm told they're nice. At
any rate no one who's ever been granted access to them
has complained. Plenty of guys have spent considerable
time with them. The other girl had two nice tattoos on
her boobs, one on top of the left one and another on
the inside of the right. She said the one on top of
the left one was meant to be seen in a low cut top or
a bathing suit by anyone, but that the one hidden on
the inside of the right tit was for special people
only. This made me and the two dozen or so guys
standing there feel quite special. 

It also made me think that when my breasts first came
in I had had names for them. The one on the left was
Henrietta and the one on the right was Alice. I
remember how nice it was to finally have my smooth
girlish chest enhanced with these two perhaps smallish
but nevertheless soft, exquisitely sensitive boobs. I
was in heaven. Finally a grown up girl. I called my
pussy Millie, after Mildred Didriksen (Babe) Zaharias,
a famous female jock. Of course I had always had a
pussy and had been exploring the wonders of it since
before I could remember. 

I no longer really used the names except with my high
school boyfriend I did use the name Millie for my
pussy. Every time we made out he stuck his hand in my
pants, but contrary to what you might think from
reading what I do in this story, Millie and his penis
never got acquainted. However she always welcomed his
hand. He was a nice boy. If I dated him now I'd fuck
him the first night he asked but I wasn't ready for it
then. But I digress. The other girl told me she had
shaved off all her snatch hair and wanted to know why
I hadn't done the same. I was forced to tell her I
couldn't really articulate why I didn't shave down
there, unless I had a white swimsuit, but I did keep
it neatly trimmed for the beach and this seemed to
satisfy her. 

By now I felt better. I looked up the hill and saw the
cross from which I would soon hang. And shivered with
my fear.



  
college boys5 breast whipped