Finally she looked up Krys’ phone number and address in the phone book. When she picked up the phone she was planning to give that cheap bitch a piece of her mind but she never dialed the number. Screaming wouldn’t give her the satisfaction she needed. She needed to face this man stealing cunt woman to woman. She showered and changed into a padded bra, heavy shirt, jeans and boots in preparation for a tough fight.

She arrived at her rival’s condo and mashed down the doorbell. When the door flew open she was eye to eye with her hated rival. They were just about the same height, five four or so, though Stephanie looked a bit taller in her boots. Glaring at Krys’ slender frame wrapped in the terrycloth bathrobe, Stephanie figured she didn’t weigh much more than her own 110 pounds. Krys’ long red hair hung down below her shoulders. The brunette couldn’t wait to rip it out by the roots but Krys stopped her with a few sharp words.

“Poor baby,” Krys said snidely, “looks like she lost her man.”

“Looks like I’m gonna bust you up so bad, he’ll never want to look at you again,” Stephanie growled.

“Well, you certainly looked like you’re dressed for it,” Krys said with sneer, “Bet you wouldn’t be so brave without all that padding.”

“What are you talking about?”

Krys opened her robe to reveal that she was just wearing a pair of green bikini panties.

“If you want to come in, I’ll fight you for him,” Krys explained, “But we’re going to settle this fair and square, no padding, no boots, flesh to flesh to the finish.”

“Whatever turns you on,” Stephanie snarled, “I’ll kick your ass with clothes or without.”

Krys stood aside to let Stephanie in. While Stephanie undressed, she pushed the coffee table into the corner, leaving a large space of living room rug for their battle. Turning around she saw the brunette standing there in just a pair of white cotton panties. Her tits were small but firm, with dark brown aureole around the button like nipples. Her slender body was tanned and toned.  Krys let her robe drop to the floor. Stephanie stared at her rival’s strong, slender body. Krys’ breasts had a slight uplift, which accentuated the puffy pink circles around her pencil eraser nipples.

Her long dark hair was held back with a single leather strap tying it away from her face, her dark eyes emphasized with eyeliner until she had a stark, gothic look to her. This contrasted with the naturally angelic beauty she had, the innocence and serenity her face exuded.

Her breasts were adorned with shining jewels hanging from each nipple, carefully dangled in place with golden plated nipple clamps. Her shaved pussy lips were likewise adorned, the jewels hanging down between her legs and catching the candlelight, they seemed to shimmer.

As he walked towards her, his hard-soled boots clicking on the stone floor, he toyed with a whip in his hands. She could only see his feet and the tail of the whip switching back and forth, like a cat’s tail as it gets ready to pounce on prey. Her entire body was tingling with excitement and anticipation. She had no idea what he would do to her, and that made the wait delicious.

He paused before her, feet set shoulder-width apart, and gazed down at her. She felt so terribly small kneeling before him, so fragile in his presence. She trembled with excitement and fought hard to keep her breath measured and even.

She heard him breathe in deeply, smelling her, the oils aromatic, sensual, like spices from some far away market place, her own scent mixing with that and her arousal obvious in the air. She smelled like exotic sex and he was savoring her. He enjoyed every aspect of her, and for that she was so grateful to him, to be devoured by him, piece by piece, each morsel coveted and desired in turn.

Reaching his hand out, he allowed the harsh leather tail of the bullwhip to caress her back gently, toying it over her sensitive skin. It was like a long leather tongue licking her all over. She shivered, but held her stance for him.

The whip’s tongue slipped over her shoulder and licked across her breast. She bit her lip to keep from moaning. The rough leather tasted her, savoring her flesh. She was trying not to shake from the thrill. She was not doing a good job. Her body went through periodic spasms of excitement at its touch. At his touch.

The leather pulled away, and again she calmed. He had not moved an inch through all of this, his feet, like stone planted before her. Now his fingers touched her hair gently. He tasted how she felt, and she wanted so badly to just push into his light touch. He caressed her silken strands and then sighed. He loved the feel of her. He devoured another bite.

Music slowly lifted to the air and he tossed the remote to the couch, many feet away. The music was rhythmic drumbeats and cascading tunes. It was exotic and powerful and seemed to penetrate her. He stepped back a step and waited again for the music to sink into her soul and capture her.

She felt it in her soul, and he always somehow knew when it had finally gotten to her. She was Kajira, meant to dance for his pleasure. It was for this purpose she was made. She was pleasure . . . His pleasure.

He watched, and when the music was in her blood, coursing through her veins, he stepped back again and tapped one foot lightly. There was no need for anything grander. That was her beckoning to begin. She rose up gracefully, almost like she floated to her feet, and raised her eyes to him. He was smiling, she had pleased him. Her heart was about to explode in pride and that power swept through her, it was time to dance.

She let the music take her and her body swayed and then turned. Muscles strained and pulled and she seemed to flow from one stance to the next. As she danced he waited and measured. At the perfect moment, his whip swung back and then flicked out like a viper’s tongue, lancing her ass with pain. The pain becoming part of the dance, she swirled and leapt in the air in joy.

She landed gracefully, and her body moved on, never stopping, always in perfect fluid motion. The whip snaked out and cracked again near her feet, making her leap high over it, then above her head and she collapsed and writhed on the floor. The whip and she rose and fell and danced, perfect partners, both so fluid that they held no form for long.

The whip licked her other ass cheek, and her cry of pain melded with the music and became a greater chorus. She spun and faced him for a split second and then dropped and leaned back as the whip cracked an inch above her belly. The two moved with such unison that they were in fact one.

She was on one foot; her body twisted and paused in mid air when the whip cracked between her legs. She could feel its power course through her pussy, her sexuality released and aroused, it joined the dance.

As she moved, one hand found her slit and she bent, displaying herself, spread open for him. She knew that he would see how aroused she was by him. She displayed sex for his pleasure, so that he would know she was always ready to please him. Then she spun and moved to the next pose. Her body tensing and relaxing as she did.

She was, by sheer force of the dance, close to orgasm. The power of being his, of the dance, of the seduction of the whip, brought her to the edge of cumming but she held back. That energy added to the dance and made her more passionate. She danced on and the whip licked across her back, the searing pain making her flesh burn for him.

She danced and danced and the whip licked her all over. Legs, ass, breasts, back, all felt it’s kiss as she danced. She was pure fire now dancing for him. She was in fact pure sex. As she was meant to be for him.

Then the whip shot past her and cracked, the long leather tongue snapping back and grabbing her arm. The force of his muscles pulled her in a spin that ended with her kneeling before him. With a flick of his wrist he looped the tongue around her other hand. She was bound by his whip before him. She looked up, trembling, almost unable to contain her sexuality any more.

He dropped quickly in front of her, crouching like a tiger over her. He slid the handle of the whip back between her legs, grabbed it, and pulled the tongue up her ass crack and across her clit. She cried out in pleasure.

Grabbing her hair, he worked the tongue back and forth across her pussy, the rough leather licking her raw and forcing her bound hands into the act, pulling them down between her legs.

He pulled her hair hard and she arched her back in response, her ass cheeks clenching slightly and increasing the friction. He rubbed her with his leather tongue, her own fingers playing with her dripping wet clit. She cried out . . . begged. . . . pleaded . . . Finally he gave her what she needed.

“Cum.” Was all he said.

Her body convulsed and shook uncontrollably. She felt the fire of pain and passion exploding from her, the leather tongue not allowing her to simply collapse; it kept licking her and licking her until she was screaming out incoherently. She screamed and opened her eyes again, saw his smiling face and then collapsed on the cold stone floor. He released her hair an allowed her to slump into a pile.

With a gentle flip of his wrist he pulled the whip free of her pussy and ass, then another and her one hand was free. He leaned down and kissed her and freed the other hand. Caressing her for long minutes until she knew where she was again, he smiled at her. Giving her a last kiss, he stood and walked away again. His boots clicking on the stone.

She lay there and shook and trembled. She was fulfilled. She was his pleasure. She had danced for him, and in so doing, fulfilled all she was meant to be. She was Kajira. She was made for his pleasure. In this, was she complete.

British humiliation loving fetishmodel Emma Louise and her master. Emma Louise and her master are getting downright dirty in the old barn. She is dressed up as a piggie, smeared in filth and loving it ! Emmas master completes her humiliation scene by giving her piggie ears, a nosehook and writing on her once so delicious body.

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The messy humiliation of slavegirl Emma Louise is taken to the extreme in the old barn, when the degraded submissive is litterally taken through the dirt, nose hooked, whipped and tormented to tears. Emma Louise cries and begs, but there is no mercy for the piggy slavegirl. The tears on the face of Emma Louise, the piggie, only inspires her evil master to intensify the punishment and humiliation of the poor submissive.

From the full length The Pain Files release The Piggie. Available for download in full high resolution at The Pain Files

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Kat heard Linda’s yelp of triumph as she felt the blood running out of her nose. She was not gonna lose to this bitch, not gonna let her strip her, or worse, in front of Brad. Linda was caught off-guard as Kat bucked her hips fiercely and yanked her shoulders forward at the same time. The brunette lurched forward, trying to push Kat back down. Suddenly her head was filled with pain.

Kat had raised her head enough to grab Linda’s nose between her teeth. She sunk them in deep and held on. Linda was screaming so loud, Kat began to worry that some adult was going to come running but she couldn’t blow her chance now. Releasing her death grip she rolled over on top of the crying brunette. She wrapped her legs around Linda’s to avoid her kicking or bucking and then pushed her shoulders firmly into the grass.

Kat looked down on the mess she had made. Linda’s cheeks were covered with blood and tears. Her nose was swollen and red, she’d ripped out a line of flesh across the nose and it was bleeding pretty good. Kat was feeling to battered and weary for pity. She noticed the brunette wasn’t even struggling beneath her, just sobbing and gasping for breath, probably worried about her pretty face. Kat fought to find the breath to say three simple words.

“You give up?”

Now Linda started to thrash beneath her. Kat rode the rocking brunette a few moments and edged forward. The redhead lifted her hips, paused a brief moment and then slammed her butt down hard on Linda’s belly. Linda gasped and began to fight for air.

Kat stared down and smiled.

“I asked you a question”, she stated.

Linda was still gasping. Kat heard the brunette wheeze a murmured “OK”. That wasn’t going to be good enough.

“What? I don’t think Brad heard you.”

Linda was still struggling to inhale. Kat raised her hips for another slam.

“I give up!” Linda hastily moaned.

Kat staggered to her feet. Linda rolled over on to her stomach. Kat flicked forward a foot and raised Linda’s skirt. She kicked the panty-clad ass and looked toward Brad.

He was smiling as she staggered towards him.

 

Kat’s scalp was burning, there were tears of pain in her eyes. Her left hand grabbed an even larger handful of brown hair as she freed her right hand. She pulled Linda towards her by her hair as she punched her face with her right fist. She felt bone strike bone and it felt good. A jolt of red pain soon wiped away the pleasure. Linda’s fist caught her just beneath her left eye. The girls pulled each other’s heads down with their left hands and began beating on each other’s skulls with their right fists while they cursed each other.

Kat took a step back to lighten the onslaught causing Linda to stagger forward. The redhead pulled her enemy closer and they crashed to the ground kicking and screaming as they rolled across the grass. Battling furiously, frantically clutching and punching each other, they tore at each other’s school uniforms. Kat couldn’t stay on top of the thrashing brunette but, despite Linda’s strength, Kat’s squirming body continued to thwart Linda’s attempts to straddle her. Her nose was full of the smell of Linda’s perfume and sweat as their young bodies pressed together, fighting for domination. Their skirts were twisted and torn displaying their white cotton panties and firm, strong legs.

The intensity of their struggle was taking a toll on both young bodies. Their breathing was harsh and gasping as they settled side by side, their legs wrapped around each other. They rested forehead to forehead. Kat admired the bruises and cuts on her opponent’s face. Linda’s right eye was swollen and was going to be black, for sure, tomorrow. Kat realized that she was having trouble looking out of her left eye. She knew all that thrashing around, half-naked, had given Brad a hell of a show. She didn’t care about any of that. She was determined to beat this bitch and win Brad for herself..

Kat could feel Linda’s panties pressing up against her own, groin against groin. The brunette trying to roll over on top of her. Side by side, they were now locked together in a battle of strength. They pressed crotches tightly together as each tried to roll the other one over. Panting with exhaustion, each knew a pin would probably be unbreakable. Whoever ended up dominant in this battle would be able to have her way with the prone victim.