Torturing Tayla

Okay, thank you to all who reviewed and requested or suggested what they wanted to see happen to Tayla.  Please continue.  You'll begin to see some of them in the next few chapters.  And now, without further ado...

Tayla looked around the room.  It was bigger than her house.  She was on her knees.  Her tormentor held her chain in one hand, a small leather whip in his other hand.  A slash fell on her left, ringed breast.  She moaned in pain, earning her another slash, this time on her right. 
   “If your Master wants to whip you, flog you, beat, spank or crop you.  You’ll remain silent, if he wants you to express pain, he’ll tell you.  Understood?” He asked.  Tayla nodded. 
   “Now, eyes up here,” he said pointing at his face.  Tayla had to admit her Master wasn’t all that bad looking.  If she weren’t married and met him under different, more vanilla circumstances…well things might have turned out differently.  She locked her blue eyes, on his gray orbs.  His light brown hair pulled into a ponytail, broad shoulders, he looked like he worked out and of course, she’d…sampled his cock a few times.  He was bigger than her husband who was always able to satisfy her. 
   “That’s a good girl.  Now place your hands on your ankles.”  Tayla, eager to avoid being whipped again, did as she was told.  He slid his left foot forward, gently tapping her knees with his toe. 
   “Open as wide as you can.” Again she complied.  He smiled and swung the leather lash connecting with her lips tore a scream from her throat.  Smiling he did it again. 
   “I’ll keep doing this until you stop screaming.”  Tayla tried to stop screaming but her clit, still sore from the piercing and the ring, felt like it was on fire.  The whipping kept going.  Finally, Tayla’s voice was hoarse and her clit, inflamed, sore even to the lightest, most gentle touch.  Finally, she passed out from the pain. 

Tayla woke slowly to a world of pain.  She was naked on her bed, back in her room.  Wait, not in her room.  This room was larger and better lit.  The bed was larger, softer and more luxurious.  Of course, her mind was on her pain.  Her world had imploded to a small world filled with agony.  Her back was sore from the whipping she’d received yesterday; at least she thought it was yesterday.  Her clit was sore from the savage flogging she’d just endured.  Further, the piercing places were still tender.  More than that, the knowledge that she would never see her family, never laugh and joke with her sister’s, never hold her children or be held by her husband.  She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep from passing out.  A tray with a fresh green salad, a ham and cheese sandwich on white bread and a glass of lemonade.  Again, she ate slowly.  She wondered, not for the first time, if her food was somehow spiked with some kind of compliance inducing drug.  Her Master arrived as she was finishing the lunch.  He silently affixed the collar around her neck and led her to the same room as before. 
   “On your knees, grab you ankles, bow your head,” he commanded.  She slowly got on her knees and grabbed her ankles making her breasts stand out.  She bowed her head.
   “Lower your head, more and get on your knees quicker.”  He helped her on her feet.  “Again and quicker.”  Tayla did as she was bidden.  Again he helped her to her feet. 
   “Let’s see how fast we can go.”  After several times, Tayla was already grabbing for her ankles on the way down, head bowed.  He smiled.  Again,” he barked and Tayla was instantly in place.  “Open your knees for me,” He said.  Tayla looked up at him fear in her beautiful blue eyes and did as she was bidden, expecting him to lash her lips, again.
   “You’ll greet me and your future Master this way.  Just one more thing,” he said as her slid his left foot forward between her splayed knees.  She looked up at him.  A stinging slap across her face rewarded her. 
   “A slave never looks at her Master’s face unless ordered to,” he said finishing up with a second resounding slap.  He smiled again, seeing tears rolling down her beautiful face from her blue eyes.  She bowed her head.  He placed his hand on her head, wishing he could wrap his hand in her lovely red locks.  He forced her head to his foot. 
   “You’ll be kissing my feet all afternoon.  You’ve gotta’ learn not to disobey.”  It was another moment before he felt her velvety tongue running up and down his foot. 
   “Underneath to,” he said.  She straightened up to her knees and lifted his foot and kissed and licked the sole of his foot.  After a while he changed his feet.  For five hours, Tayla licked and kissed his feet sucked his toes individually and collectively, and hated every minute of it.