Francesca gasps for air before she arches up her behind for the second lash: Craaaccckkk-Smaaaaccckkk! Francesca moans in agony. She grabs the iron rail with all her strength. Craaaccckkk-Smaaaaccckkk! Three long welts burn like a fire on her butt, especially her right ass cheek. Marcel notices that the stripes are dark red and slightly raised on the right, but only pink on the left. The next three lashes land on her left bottom cheek only: Craaaccckkk-Smaaaaccckkk! Whhiiippp-Smaaaaccckkk! Craaaccckkk-Smaaaaccckkk!
He pauses to give Francesca a minute. "Thirty more lashes to go!" he says sternly. Francesca's tears fall onto the white bed sheet to no avail. The fire from the stripes on her ass make her break out in sweat. The small pearls of sweat make her look even more desirable, she looks like she just made love. Which, in a sense, she is doing right now. Just a different kind of love.
Marcel takes a firm stand again and then he administers twenty lashes in less than two minutes! The whip whistles, cracks and smacks. The sounds of the whip disciplining this young woman's bare bottom mix with the screams she can no longer control. Of course she cannot strike her pose again and again in those intense two minutes. But she holds on to the iron rails. Marcel pauses again and let's her gasp for air.
He takes off his shirt and lights himself a cigarette. "Arch your bottom up, darling. I want those bottom cheeks spread, knees apart. Good. So sexy!"
He runs his hand over her bottom, down her thighs and up again. Her ass is severely marked from the whipping. She won't be able to sit for days. Marcel tried not to break her skin, but some of the more prominent stripes show tiny ruby dots. Also where the welts cross each other. He puts out the cigarette and picks up the dressage whip. Before he proceeds he pulls her thong panties up and tight and straightens them out. He gently rubs the thin triangle of satin that barely covers her slit and gives her a kiss on the neck.
"Put your stomach on the bed, darling. Grab the iron bars below." Francesca obeys, not knowing that Marcel asks her to pose this way because the last ten lashes will be applied to the backs of her thighs. The pleasure of Marcel's fingers temporarily relieves some of the pain she feels on her behind. He slides one finger under her thong and pushes it into her slit. Francesca moans, she loves getting fingered. Lust wins over pain for the moment. For the moment because the last ten lashes will be administered. Each one a minute apart. On the backs of her thighs, the soft part where her legs meet her bottom, just below those lovely curves.
Francesca needs to learn obedience. And next time she masturbates without permission she'll get another whipping just like today. She'll learn. Marcel is a good teacher, strict enough to punish young women like Francesca the way they need it: with a dressage whip, on the bare bottom, so that the lashes crack like pistol shots. That way there is no need to pretend how much it hurts. It just does.