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once
again, “As I said - training. It is pointless coming this far and
then not making the most of it."
"How, what sort
of training?" Marinella asked naively.
Sheila broke a
huge grin, "But with the real thing of course - how else?"
"With a man,
you mean?" Pauline asked excitedly.
Sheila chuckled
at her friend's wide-eyed and hopeful look.
"Remember the
farm manager I mentioned to you outside?"
Little excited
gasps escaped the women's lips and they looked eagerly and
expectantly around the barn to try to gain sight of him.
"Where is he
then?" was a disappointed comment.
"Don your suits
first ladies. Whenever the Clan meets it is leather-clad and no
other way."
An electrically
charged atmosphere existed as the women all stood and began to
undress.
"Baby oil,"
Pauline whispered to Marinella, "I'm bloody well using oil this
time!"
The dressing
took not some little time as the naked women helped powder each
other and to get into the tight, figure-hugging suits. When all
were set the women stood close together in the open area of the
barn, black leather-clad goddesses of simmering sexual power.
Sheila handed a
polished black riding crop to each of the women, "Courtesy of our
farm manger and victim for tonight. I have until now girls financed
the suits and the other set-up costs of the Clan. I aim to recoup
that expense from our first few catches."
"Yes, yes,"
Pauline said impatiently, "The first bloody hundred if you like -
let's just get at this first one."
The rousing
cheer from the other girls echoed her impatience and Sheila nodded
her approval. She strode importantly over to the back of the van
and paused with her hand on the door handle, "Ladies of the Clan,
the leather-clad Clan," she announced formally, "I give you - our
first victim."
She pulled the
doors wide open to excited shrieks from the girls.
The man was
totally naked and gagged with a white cloth tied around and over
his mouth. His hands were bound behind his back and he knelt
fearfully in the confines of the van. He cowered back as the women
piled into the van, grabbed him and pulled him unceremoniously out
to kneel on the straw-strewn floor of the barn.
"Ooooh," Anna
giggled. "Just look at that sausage will you, Beats my old man's
any day."
Her remark
brought forth much laughter and shouted comments. All were derisive
and humiliating, adding to the man's shame and embarrassment. He
knelt there, his head hung in shame and face flushed red as the
women mocked him mercilessly.
Sheila stepped
in, her hand raised, to bring the gathering to order, "Now girls,
let's see how the little shit likes the taste of the crop."
In one swift
and graceful move, Sheila raised the crop above her shoulder and
brought it down with a sickeningly hard thwack, directly onto the
man's pale buttocks.
A stunned
silence, a sexually charged and excited silence reigned. The women
watched in disbelief as Sheila laid lash after savage lash on the
murmuring man. They thrilled as his body jerked under the impact of
each savage lash. The way the vivid red marks appeared on his white
skin, but best of all was the wild excitement that Sheila
transmitted as she thrashed him.
She was like a
woman possessed, flailing frantically in her high excitement. Her
eyes blazed and her nostrils flared, her mouth hung open and she
grunted little gasps as she swung into each lash. Her sleek body
moved so sensually, the tight suit pulling into all the right
places with her body movements. Sheila was lost in a heady world of
high sexual excitement; she seemed detached and so aroused that she
had lost sense of how many lashes she had laid on the man.
All of the
women felt it too, that electric pumping thrill and sadistic
pleasure from watching the man suffering at the hands of her their
friend. Their pussies were wet, nipples hard and jutting. Their
clitorises ached their need and all of them felt the communal
sexual charge of the situation. They watched spellbound and
speechless as they
Inc The Staff of Entrepreneur Media