“Count,” He said as always. The first stroke of that whip, though, was high on her back. She screamed. It hurt worse than the crop ever had until ...he last blow. “Count,” He said and lashed her across the same place. “I won’t lower the place where the lash strikes until I hear your count.”She screamed again before managing to choke out “One.” She had to repeat “fifteen” because her sobs muffled it, but she was still counting at twenty. She was still counting at twenty-nine, and the lash was. "I said, I want you to take your shirt off. I want to humiliate you," I needed an excuse to have dared her that and humiliating her sounded a lot better than lusting for her."No fucking way, you perv. That's not fair! You can't dare me to do something like that!" But if you don't then you'll be my slave for an hour, remember?"Reluctantly she put her hands at the bottom of her shirt and began to lift. Her soft belly slowly came into view as she slowly slid her shirt off. It seemed like an. Her mouth filled with cum to the point that a fair amount of the sticky white cream seeped out of the corners of her mouth and dribbled down over her tits. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed one her finest former captains on her hands and knees near the verge of orgasm as she was being taken from behind by her new master. The two girls locked eyes for a moment, feeding off one another’s bittersweet abjection. The Earl followed the line of his slave girls gaze just as he fired the last. We had always been close, and we knew our parents would be happier knowing I was looking out for Robert, not that he needed my help. Robert loved the place and fitted right in.Unlike Robert, Phil and I found we had to work twice as hard to be accepted by the other blokes. They seemed to find us a little intimidating for some reason. I guess they just weren’t as fit as we were and didn’t like it that Phil and I breezed through PT.We would often go for a run in the afternoons as well. Phil said.