Jessica's torment had clearly affected everyone else as profoundly as it had affected Clara and the man she was with was in a hurry.

He stopped by a large barrel which had been turned on its side and was supported by two rests. Iron rings with leather straps attached stuck out of the turf not far away.

"Your breasts need flogging, Mrs Bestwood," he said brusquely. "I'll have your corset off please and stretch you on the barrel."

Clara's heart thumped as she reached around and began the laborious job of unlacing herself, her fingers fumbled with nervous excitement - Adam had never whipped her breasts. At last she was able to pull herself free of the constricting but comforting whalebone and taffeta garment and suddenly her breasts felt very vulnerable as they swung free before her and before the man who was intent on flogging them. She could see the light of vicious excitement in his eyes as he reached out to stroke and cup them, to weigh them and to doubtless assess how they would bounce and swing under the lash; the lash that Adam had clearly wanted her to suffer. With that thought, Clara's mind settled and she thrust them forward proudly, offering them up to whatever sacrifice he required of her.

In a few moments her ankles were spread and shackled to the rings in the turf and her body was bent backwards over the curve of sun-warmed wood. Her arms were raised above and behind her head and her wrists tied to rings mounted in the far side of the barrel.

The pose both stretched and presented her breasts to perfection, as well as leaving her stomach, thighs and crotch easily available too. The man was obviously aware of this as well, he stood before Clara running the heavy leather tails of a whip through his fingers as he chose his targets. She also knew from the way he had stroked her trembling flesh with the tails that they contained small but noticeable weights at their tips.

She watched his arm draw back before her nerve failed and she screwed her eyes tight shut and twisted her face away. A solid thump hit her chest and she felt the weights slam into her ribs beside her breasts. But her breasts themselves! They exploded into shards of red agony behind her eyelids as the nipples took their first taste of leather. She made a breathless gasp as the pain sank deep inside her and then the second lash arrived, this time it hit the undercurves and she felt the main weight of them lift almost off her chest as heavy lashes slammed them upwards. Then he whipped the tops, and then he cut straight across the nipples.

Clara's eyes bulged in their sockets, her screams tore at her throat and still he lashed her. Then suddenly he stopped. She gaped at him stupidly for a second and then craned her head up to survey the damage, she was amazed to see that riding proudly on top of her heaving ribs, the soft mounds of her breasts still quivered and shook and the nipples stood out as hard and as long as ever they had over the few weeks of her awakening. Her torturer came forwards and sank one hand hard into her left breast and then her right, his fingers were hard claws in the burning flesh but the lust in his eyes seemed to run straight down her body and lodge between her shamelessly opened thighs. He pulled and rolled her nipples. Clara yelped and wished he would fuck her.

It was the first time she had even thought the word and as the whipping began again, she savoured the rough baseness of it and how well it suited what she wanted this man to do to her. She didn't want love; she wanted a good length of hard, thick, cock rammed inside her.

She didn't get it however until he had whipped her breasts into scarlet mounds of pulsing agony and her stomach into a stinging expanse of pain, her thighs and crotch into a lake of molten lust. She had nearly jerked upright, despite her bonds, when the lashes had first fallen there but they had almost instantly catapulted her beyond pain as such and into a strange region where pain, lust, excitement and submission to Adam's will seemed to melt her. At last, the man stood over her, eclipsing the sun and bent slightly as he fiddled with his buttons. Clara was nearly screaming with impatience by the time he shuffled forward an inch or two and she felt him at last lodge between her burning, throbbing and fluttering lips. He smiled down at her, a sneering unpleasant smile and thrust into her, effortlessly sending her cascading up into a mind shattering orgasm in the wake of her flogging. When she came down he was still pounding into her and all she could do was hang there and groan in answer to each thrust until she felt him pause at full penetration then make short, sharp jerks as he sent thick, sticky streams of spunk into her.

She collapsed when he released her and as he did himself up he curtly told her to go over to the 'Pool', then he left without looking back. Clara struggled to her feet and examined her battered body with some pride before she set off for the area where any woman not being led on her leash was required to wait until she was picked once again. Limping through the garden she watched in fascination as all around her women were subjected to every single sort of male inventive cruelty.

She saw a blonde girl lying on her back along a whipping trestle having diamond tipped needles pushed into her breasts as, with her flung back head, she fellated any man who wanted her and between her spread legs she played host to another eager queue. Her owner, or temporary one, was bending over her and joking with friends as he plunged more and more needles into the quivering, shaking hillocks until the girl glittered and shone in the bright sun.