Until They Tire




































The helpless prisoner-slave in the stocks is surrounded by the whips, and the feet, of his betters!

Handsome Man: 'Haha! That's right, darling! Squeeze his humble head in between your socks! Hurt him while you humble him - really make him feel your anklebones digging into his temples through your socks! Leave him with the memory of your socks imprinted on his brain. Then we can both take turns to whip him with our whips!'

Pretty Woman: 'Haha, sure thing honey! How many lashes shall we give him?'

Handsome Man: 'We can just whip him until we are tired. We can do whatever we like to him, for as long as we like. He's just a prisoner-slave who is in our power and at our mercy. Isn't that right, gaoler?' 

Gaoler: 'Yes indeed, sir! Please feel free to whip the prisoner to your heart's content. You and your pretty ladyfriend are most welcome to punish him with your whips. That's what he's here for!'

Magistrate Master-Sir's Girlfriend: 'Haha! Did you hear that, darling? This prisoner's about to be whipped! Can we stay and watch?'

Magistrate Master-Sir: 'Of course we can, sweetheart! And afterwards, you can whip him too yourself, if you wish?'

Magistrate Master-Sir's Girlfriend: 'Oh can I? That would be great! Oh, but I don't have a whip with me!'

Magistrate Master-Sir: 'Haha! Not a problem, sweetheart. You can borrow the gaoler's whip!'

Magistrate Master-Sir's Girlfriend: 'Cool!'

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