Blame it on the Wedding Dress Chapter 3

Then I felt the first stroke onto my right ass cheek.

"One", I said and it did not hurt as much as I expected.

"Two", for the next stroke with the leather lash on my left ass cheek.

Sylvia changed the sides for every hit. One left, one right, one higher, one lower."

"Harder! Beat him harder!" Katie commanded while moaning.

Sylvia accepted the request and hit me harder. Now it started to hurt.

And when it came to about half of the strokes with the leather lash onto my bum, it began to hurt a lot. The beautiful dark haired lady in the dark-red satin bow blouse and the black skirt acted like a machine. She hit me, I told her the number of the stroke, she changed the side and on it went.

I started to groan after each stroke. I needed to concentrate to not forget the current number. When I once needed a bit more time to remember the stroke number, Sylvia said:

"If you're wrong with the count, we'll have to start over..."

"No, Miss Sylvia, we're at 44", I whined as an answer.

At least there was no reason to ejaculate. The strokes hurt me. I had never been beaten before. Even at school I had always been lucky the no teacher complained about my behavior. And now one well-dressed lady gave my 50 lashes on my bum while my sister was riding her newly-wed husbands large cock and took one picture of me after the other.

Finally, I got all 50 strokes.

"You may raise", Sylvia said. "And hold up your dress, Katie will certainly take a photo or two of your red cheeks."

That was simpler said than done. My ass hurt like hell and I needed one hand to lift myself up and the other to hold up the hem of the dress and the underwear. Sylvia helped me again, and so I was able to present my red ass to my older sister.

Of course, she took a number of pictures.

"Nice. I hope you have learned your lesson", she said.

"Baby, I want your ass", Frank interrupted her.