Mattie wanted to relax and have a normal conversation but with her position it was difficult. She was quickly becoming moist, her juices lubricating his fingers only to have it wiped on her slowly swelling lips.<br/><br/>If her head could sink any lower it would have at that moment, keeping count during lashings never went well. She would lose count or miss a number, a scream keeping her from keeping up with each down stroke.<br/>She tensed as she felt the tendrils lay on her back. Mattie whimpered softly knowing that even the softest of touches can turn into a painful string of swats.<br/><br/>She didn't have to be told twice to take a deep breath as she did, as she braced herself for the impending strike on her flesh. Had it been possible she would have leapt into the air with each of the strokes, but instead she forces out the first two count through gritted teach as she exhales then inhales as she counts the following four to make it six thus far. Each one stung more than the last, each of the nine straps kissing her sensitive flesh sharply.<br/><br/>Mattie was determined not to scream but then there was a swish of the cat and four undeniably painful blow to her sensitive and moist mount. "Owah! No no no please! Seven, eight, nine, ten!" the last four had been rushed, broken up with heaving sobs as she tried to keep from screaming more. "Please, no more Mr. Blackstone! Please?" It was a miracle in itself that she could count those, only the fear of having to endure more lashes at the hand of the cat as her motivation. "That was ten, right?" Her eyes were swollen and red, moist with tears as she looked back to her teacher.