Jules makes no answer as she talks and examines all those whips.  Unsure if she expects an answer, and unsure if she is mocking him, or if she really believes it.  So, he is silent.  Moving closer to the table, trying not to look at that paddle in her hand.  Leaning over the table, resting on it, stomach and sore, heavy, breasts resting against the leather that pads the top of the table, legs dangling off the side.<br/><br/>Jules nods his head, whispered, "Yes mistress," offered back to her.  The bed was better than the chest.  Yelps, and whimpers drawn from him by that paddle, his ass stinging and reddened from all the blows.  "Uhnnn" he gets out thru gritted teeth as she begins to ram that strap on into his poor anus.  Hands clenching tightly in pain as it spreads and tears him wide.  He sore breasts rubbing over the top of the table, those clamps dragging against the table top.  He does get alarmed by what she tells him about those clamps, his breasts did hurt, did feel heavier.<br/><br/>Jules' body is pushed forward with each thrust, trapped cock rubbing against his tummy and the table top.  Getting close to cumming, and then she stops, and pulls out of him. Leaving him so close, but not letting him go just that little bit more.<br/><br/>Jules whimpers and groans and yelps in pain as she uses a new whip on him.  Tears are welling up in his eyes as she stops, he winces, feeling her hand on that burning ass.  He takes a breath to calm himself.  "Please... please, please, please... mistress... please... please mistress... may I have some food?  Please," he begs her.