Finally, Tuesday arrived, and I heard them coming, my pimp is still negotiating prices with the clients.

Finally, Tuesday arrived, and I heard them coming, my pimp is still negotiating prices with the clients. 

I already know the routine, because I've been in this life for years, I know most of the clients, their needs, and ways of acting. Some bring their whips and batons, others will use the equipment that is here in the brothel. Some will also want to fuck me, in all my holes, others will wish to blowjobs. 

They can do the worst evils to me, breaking my back with dozens of violent lashes, fucking me, and then continuing the whipping. Some like to fuck me while my ass bleeds from the beatings, using the blood that runs down my back as a lubricant. 

After hours of pain, torture, brutality, and rape they leave, leaving me on the floor, covered in wounds and bruises, in a pool of blood, sweat, sperm, and piss. It takes me weeks to recover. Some wounds turn into permanent scars, others heal and disappear. During this time I work daily, without rest, cleaning and tidying the brothel. I find some of the clients who have destroyed me coming to the house to pick up some of the boys or girls who are prostituted here.

Precisely for this reason, and at the request of some of them, my pimp makes me work naked all the time so that they can see the gradual healing and recovery of my body. Some even tease me by showing me the wounds they have made and celebrating that they have not yet disappeared.

So, on the first Tuesday of every month, my pimp ties me up against the wall and the clients come to break me and fuck me.

 

He has no chance of escaping alive. I am too horny.

My servants and employees know what is going to happen now, they know me, they fear me and they have seen similar scenes happen before.

When I order one of my servants to be brought to this tree, he knows he will be brutally punished. One of the foremen accused this servant of stealing the missing sheep. I ordered the young man's clothes to be taken off, I like to see them naked, this one is still quite handsome and has a beautiful cock to make what is to come even more fun.

One of the foremen tied his wrists to a stick and put the gallows collar around his neck.

My cock is throbbing and erect under my coat, I am almost cumming from so much arousal.

The young man begs for my mercy, says he has nothing to do with the missing sheep, that he is innocent - as if that matters to me, as if this detail would stop my fun.

My favorite foreman is already impatiently holding the heaviest whip, with the hardest and roughest leather, anxious for me to tell him how many lashes the sentence will be.

I know that after 20 the boy will be so injured that he will be unable to walk for more than two weeks; after 50 he will probably faint and may die from the infections in the wounds.

But today I am very horny, I am going to sentence him to 100! I want the intervals between the lashes to be long, so that he can cry, moan and beg for my mercy, because I love to hear his screams and pleas, but he has no chance of escaping alive. I am too horny.