She awaited her fate bound to the cross her legs spread wide. Her bare soles trembled with a mix of fear and desire.Then the stocks clamped down. Her feet now utterly exposed for the coming bastinado. This was just the beginning.The bastinado stick rested nearby a silent promise of pain. Her soles tingled anticipating the first hard strike.The first whip landed sharp and swift. A gasp escaped her lips as the bastinado began its rhythm.Each stroke intensified a burning sensation spreading across her feet. She craved more of this extreme punishment.Red marks bloomed across her tender soles. The exquisite agony of hard bastinado was a triumph of submission.