Female Caning Novels & Stories

She could already imagine how painful the hot coffee would feel on her skin. "Rita... Do us the honor." Zain handed over the thick cane to a mean looking girl who was standing beside him. He thought if he whips a girl himself, she'd wet her undies and faint only to cause him a headache. So Rita does the part of flogging the shit out of disrespectful chicks, and is practically perfect at that.

“Yeah, she recruits women under the guise of female-dominated professions, such as nail techs, hair stylists, and massage therapists. Then once they are recruited, they are pretty much caged and get a barcode tattooed on their inner thighs, where it’s not visible. Those barcodes are essentially their work records and client lists. It’s sick, and she is the first person those young girls see. Some of them are barely eighteen years old.” Kaia’s eyes darken. She’s pissed, and quite frankly, so am I. Our world tends to wait until a girl turns eighteen and gives them time to find their mates. It’s not always the case, but that is more common than what I am hearing right now. “Sinclair, how big is

She writhed helplessly, legs kicking, sobs turning into guttural cries as the pain radiated outward. Her pussy clenched, hips jerking as she came hard from the pain alone, tears streaming, body shaking with violent aftershocks. Victor watched her with clinical satisfaction, giving each needle one final twist that drew another broken scream from her lips. Kane took the cane next, his favorite toy. He forced her onto her stomach, pinning her bound arms beneath her. The first strike landed across the tender soles of her feet—thin, raising an immediate burning welt. Lila’s toes curled involuntarily. He didn’t stop; methodical stripes followed—one on each palm when he flipped her over, then back

“We'll need to make sure our customers understand there's a reason you're crying. Six strokes of the paddle will do it. Or." She gestures to the other woman again who raises the other hand. This one is gloved and holding a long, bulbous item. It takes me a minute to register. “We can let them know we're stretching a tighter than usual anal passage for their pleasure." The girl tenses her buttocks and I realize no one is making a sound now. Not a single one of them. Not even me. “You have until I finish my sentence to choose your punishment or you'll get both." “Please.”

That night didn't kill me nor you, but something inside us died that day, and it was that hopeless little girl. She died, so WE can live. “But women know better,” Hanna said. Tonight, I’m not going to repeat any of that. I forcibly relax my body and lay very still as he caresses every inch of my bare flesh and spits out those filthy words on my face. 'Caress' was the word that I used to comfort myself, making ‘it’ less violent. I’m not planning to amuse him. Not tonight. You want my flesh? Eat it. Let's see if you like it dead.

Into suites to bathe, to have blood and filth scrubbed from their skin and hair, just like me. One woman viciously scrubs my filthy hair before combing through my tangles with her fingers. She’s not gentle, but I don’t flinch. I stay perfectly still, allowing another to trim my cracked nails before scrubbing them clean. The third woman stands in wait, two towels draped over her forearm. I look at her, and she meets my gaze, holding it, the corners of her mouth remaining a flat, narrow line.

I had lost my freedom and could only let the others tease and mock me. “You’re already in this state and still won’t admit your mistakes? People like you should die in a car crash.” “Everyone, take a good look. We had real fun beating up this kept woman today! If you find another one in the future, tell me! I’m now a professional kept women punisher.” Cynthia’s phone suddenly rang. She answered it and said cutely, “Bae, you’re coming home now? Did you bring any presents for me?” Her shocked look was really exaggerated.

After 20 brutal spanks I stop and face her. “do you want more or do you want to lose your cherry now cunt?” Not hearing what she is trying to say and not caring I rip off her thong and frown, “looks like you don’t know how to shave that cunt of yours, good thing I packed some wax from your house.” Grabbing her suitcase I dump its stuff on the floor and finally find her wax. Applying it to her cunt I take off her nipple clamps just to hear her scream in pain

A second later, brutality began in full force. Belladonna's head was shaved off every hair, her gown was ripped away from her, while they forced her into their attires and painted her chest white. Her screams to be let go and her yelling of refusal, blended with the never-ending chanting of the females as they paid her struggles no mind, like they had done this countless times. She was forced to bathe in water and blood. Her own blood because the females had carved on her freshly shaved head, images with sharp razors, while different strong hands pinned her down to the ground.

The fresh pain and the heat mixed together. Every strike made my tits bounce and my cunt get wetter. They didn’t let me rest. The strap-on woman pressed the fat head of her thick black dildo against my pussy entrance again rubbing it up and down She entered in slowly stretching my pussy walls while the older woman dripped more wax onto my lower back and ass cheeks. “No moving, you greedy cum-dump,” Lila snapped yanking the leash. “You take every inch we decide to give you. This is about breaking your pathetic cunt, not satisfying it.”