Each searing jolt of pain caused by the wax made the poor, hanging Zoey twitch enough for the chain to go taut and the clamp on her tortured clit to tug, making her cry out or whimper in suffering. For would felt like hours this continued until she managed to master her instincts and stop her legs from jerking at each touch of the molten wax. With that the sounds died to a low whimper or the harsh intake if breath. Zoey felt pride in herself for mastering her body's reaction but when she finally opened her eyes she whined. Her Master looked bored and displeased with how her noises had died off.<br/><br/>Her eyes widened and her mouth hung agape when his hand roughly squeezed her mound, cracking the thin film of wax coating her aching nethers. The muscles of her jaw jumped and twitched as she grit her pearly teeth. Tears streamed from her reddened eyes, eyes that widened as much as possible when his hand slapped her womanhood. Her clamped and aching clit was hit as well and she shook with the effort of not compounding her suffering and keeping her legs still.<br/><br/>Her whole body glistened with perspiration and the light send if the frangranced soap she used filled the air around her as her Master spun her baring her lusciously curved backside complete with all the mottled purple and reddened bruising that he had gifted her. She began to squirm then, trying not to jostle her legs too much but still trying to twist back. She did not know if she was only making the punishment worse or simply amusing him with her weak struggles but she could not help it in either case. The thought of any more punishment to her still battered arse made her panic.<br/><br/>"please Master no! Not there please pl-AHHHH!" she found her voice only to have it cut off in a shriek of pain as pain lanced through her body. Worse was that the intense agony caused her legs to spasm, tearing the clamp from her clit. She screamed died in her throat as her body went into convulsions. Her lean muscles tensed and shook as she arched her back hard enough that she was looking back. This was a look he had not yet seen. Pure, unfiltered agony twisted her pretty face into a tortured mask. The pain was so great that the little former noble could not even cry and only the rattle of the chain hanging limply between her feet made any noise.<br/><br/>Her eyes stared at him, seemingly looking through him. For a long moment, even after he had started to lash her ass again, all she could do was convulse with every muscle taut. It was minutes before the pain receded and she drew a shuddering, ragged breath only to scream for him. He played her body like a conductor would an orchestra, making his slave sing for him with every lash. Even Hus words served to alter the symphony of cries as she broke down into fearful sobbing that was punctuated by mewling pleas and anguished squeals.<br/><br/>The squeals died momentarily when the lashes stopped but came back in increasingly higher pitch as the thick wooden phallus parted her folds and stretched her more and more and more until she could barely breath over the pain. Tears poured unchecked over her flushed cheeks. Her hips jerked in a futile attempt to escape the thick shafted stabbing into her. Each smack of his hand agains the base tore the most piteous noises from her and she hung limp in the bonds.<br/><br/>Even when the lashing resumed her savaged body barely moved and only broken sobbing escaped her. The occasional yelp or sniffle was the only indication that she was still conscious. It looked like Quebtin may have truly broken his pretty little toy.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>