Engelska: THE LOVE OF THE LASH

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Följande är ett kapitel ur en e-bok som jag skrivit: THE LOVE OF THE LASH.

I was lying on my back, too weak to move. The girl who usually came to attend to my wounds was kneeling beside me and smearing soothing ointments on my lacerated breasts. She was a silent, pretty looking Arab girl with dark hair and brown eyes whose message I never could figure out. I never saw her except for when she was treating my wounds. I realized that I had been unconscious for some time and my beloved tormentors were gone. I managed to raise my hand and gently caress her silky dark hair… and I was rewarded with a shy smile. She raised my head and brought a glass to my lips. The liquid tasted strange and I could feel myself drifting away again. As I was falling asleep I once again experienced the strange sense of comfort and total safety… just what I had experienced when my tormentors were ravaging my body. I knew I was in good hands and didn’t need fearing anything. Safe and happy as a child I was put to sleep.

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In the old days of slavery a free woman of colour had the possibility of selling herself as a slave. Those who did so most certainly did not do it from masochistic urges. Yet, the idea always intrigued me and the thought never left my mind as I was advancing further on the path of submission.

I guess it has always been within me. Ordinary sex never made me that excited and the only time I could climax was when I was playing with myself, dreaming of sexual tortures, whippings, submission. Over the years I was introduced to the real life side of it and as my experience grew, I knew I had to get further. When a guy for the first time had me over his lap to spank me, I was so excited I could die. Sadly enough, the reason I had been able to talk him into doing it was the whiskey I had treated him with and the day after he felt utterly embarrassed for what had happened (at least, the parts he remembered doing). So that was our last date.

I found it very hard to find a truly dominant man, with the right understanding for this sort of things. Gradually I was realizing what it was that fired me… and I spent many years in a fruitless search for my perfect match. Many people could not understand why I was so cold towards attractive men who were obviously interested in me and some even thought I was a lesbian. But I could not see the point of going to bed together with somebody just for the sake of it… while all the time I was dreaming of something else, knowing that He was out there somewhere, waiting for me. I often went out, by myself or with friends, in the hope that someday I would find Him. I also answered contact ads but was badly disappointed every time, as I realized that behind the most exciting description dwelled some wannabee who may have read about it in books, but had no idea how to treat a real-life submissive woman, even if she had fallen to her knees and begged him to use her. So I realized that being a submissive was really not an easy thing.

Soon I started taking things into my own hands. I began experimenting with various forms of self-punishment, and although I found it thrilling at a start, it was nothing at all like what I wanted. I used to have a riding-crop beside my bed and often used it on myself while I was masturbating. And afterwards it always felt so empty… I usually don’t wear a bra but I made a special one: with thacks inside and wore it sometime when going out. I tried thacks in my shoes and experimented with needles and clothespins. My passion for pain grew all the time, as did the disappointment of being all alone. I picked fresh tree branches and birches to use as an alternative to the riding crop, and although I eventually got myself some quite nice stripes this way, I wanted to submit to somebody who would show me no mercy.

Sure, you could say I was a real egoist. I didn’t want to compromise – I’d rather be alone until I got what I needed. I tried to suppress my feelings and forget about it, but of course it didn’t work. Once my passions had been awakened, there was nothing I could do but keep on searching. I didn’t find the Dom I was dreaming of… but through a long chain of circumstances I got some contacts which I realized could help me realizing my dream, although in quite a different way than I had expected.


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When I woke up I was lying on a bunk in my cell, collared and chained to the wall but my hands and feet were free to move. Which meant I was free to play with myself as much as I wanted. I was constantly masturbating, bringing myself to climax after climax… and my cries of lust echoed between the stone walls. Only the shy girl visited me to see to my wounds, to wash me and give me something to eat. Every time she got into my cell I was lying wide open, playing with myself furiously, and I always climaxed as she opened the door. I really didn’t want to embarrass her, but I couldn’t stop it. As she attended me I wanted so much to kiss and hug her, but I managed to control myself even though her gentle touch made my nipples hard and erect. I was breathing heavily and I felt really embarrassed for being so hot and shameless in front of her.

As she left me, the light was turned off and I was left in total darkness. That even added to my excitement as I was playing with myself and fantasizing. The darkness made me feel like I was in a world where I could dictate was what happening and nothing could disturb me. I was happy that I had not been cuffed and was free to use my hands as I wanted. I totally lost all ideas of time and finally I fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

I didn’t hear the sound but I was awakened by the sense that somebody was standing beside me in the darkness. He approached and soon I could hear his heavy breathing. I felt the cold tip of a riding crop lightly touching my bare skin and I immediately raised from the bunk and took a position on all fours. As I spread my legs and stuck my bottom out I felt very excited by the anticipation and the cool air against my exposed sex. Here he was – an anonymous man who was going to use me and I couldn’t see anything.

I cried out as my bare globes was struck by a trail of fire. I waited for the riding crop to sting again but he laid it down on the floor and as I was sobbing from the pain, I felt a big, strong finger entering my anus. He was pushing it hard, in and out, and I started to move my body to meet his thrusts. I could feel him smear something cold on my anus and pushing his greased finger deep into me and I did my best to relax and get ready for what was to come. He grabbed my hips hard and dug his fingers into my flesh, drawing me against him and I could feel his erection against my tight puckered hole. “Yessss…” I thought. “Take me… hard…” I was very excited and I was happy that my hands were free… soon my left hand was between my legs and I was frigging my clit furiously while the unknown man was preparing to enter my secret passage.

I cried out from pain as he started to thrust and although I was lubricated and did my best to relax, he had great difficulties in entering me. Finally he succeded to force his huge tool through my tight opening and at first it was only pain… a red hot, intensive pain which maid me first loose my breath and then scream out loud. I felt totally split open and the pain was so intense I hardly felt that his huge member slid deep into me… was buried in its total length within me and then started to thrust back and forth like the piston of a steam engine. I cried and moaned… and as usually, the pain spread like a heat throughout every nerve in my body and gradually I drifted into the fever of pain and lust I had experienced so many times before.

“Yesss” I cried. “Fuck me!!! Ooohhh.. please… harder… HARDER… FUCK ME DEEP!!!!” His nails dug deep into my flesh as he held me in a firm grip and he kept on thrusting harder and faster… his moans of lust and words I could not comprehend but well understand the meaning of excited me even more. He bent down over me and started biting into my flesh… I felt his teeth sinking into my flesh, first on my shoulder, then my neck, my ears.. he was biting and sucking and I was sure I was going to have a lot of nice marks from his mouth and teeth after the night was over. My fingers kept on working and I felt I was going to climax very soon… how happy I was that he would let me climax… nobody could stop me now… oh please, let him treat me harsher… God… deeper… split me open… his weight pressed me down on the bunk and his thrusting became faster and harder all the time… in the middle of my ecstasy a picture flashed through my mind… of a big steam engine rolling down the track… with the pistons working faster and faster… The picture had often excited me when I saw an old steam locomotive running… it looked so incredibly sexy!

Maybe it was the darkness that made it so incredibly exciting… being raped and brutalized by a strong man without a face… just a body who was ravaging my body. It was so wonderful… and I never wanted it to stop… I felt myself being driven at the speed of light towards the inevitable eruption… I felt like exploding soon… ooh, the wonderful huge beast raping me… why must it ever stop… oh God keep me this high forever…. I’m coming now… oooh yesss… please HARDER!!! GOD…. FUCK ME TO DEATH!!!
As my body shaked from convulsions, a firework of pleasure flashed before my eyes.. I just kept on coming and coming… again and again… I was screaming and crying… moaning.. begging him to never stop… his pace was now totally frantic and riding high on my own climax, I felt him exploding inside me and shooting his warm loads into me… he bit so hard into my neck that I knew I was bleeding and he pumped away like mad until he had shot all he had… and filled me… finally he pulled out of me and I was left lying totally powerless and exhausted… moaning and sobbing…. I was still sobbing hours later as the door to my cell opened and the dark girl came in to see to me. This time I didn’t have the power to raise… I just lay on my belly and let her take care of me. I let my hand slide down to my sore anus and I got blood and sperm on my fingers… my blood and his sperm.. the gift of an unknown stranger. I felt very relaxed and when she left me I finally fell asleep.

Later this day I was taken up to the big hall for the first time since I was taken to the Palace. I had been bathed and perfumed and had make-up made by the Arab girl. After that I was collared and one of the servants led me naked by a chain up the stairs. The stone of the stairs and floors felt cold under my bare feet and I was shivering from excitement. The hall was huge with expensive furniture and arcades of pillars to the sides. A big open fire added to the atmosphere and most of the hall was in darkness, with just a small part being lightened up by candles. Close to a pillar was a big red cushion and the servant fastened my chain to the pillar and made a sign for me to sit down. Now I was trembling from excitement. I didn’t really know what was going to happen, but I realized that there was people watching me out there in the dark. The illumination of the candles made the cushion where I was kneeling like a spotlight and I felt so utterly exposed… and God, I was so horny I could die! I parted my legs and pouted my lips… bent backwards with my hands behind my head and stuck my breasts out… covered as they were with mis-coloured stripes and welts. I slowly started to gyrate my hips… then started to caress my body with my hands… I was licking my lips and slightly moaning… my hands slowly advanced down my body… down my belly, between my legs… I was frigging myself… my fingers entering my wet pussy… all of a sudden I was all by myself… not aware of what was happening around me… I was masturbating like a shameless slut in front of an unknown audience which I didn’t even see… I moaned and sobbed and kept on working on myself… oh how good it felt so be so hot and naughty…

Like in a dream figures entered from the shadows… powerful hands gripped me… I felt somebody grabbing my hair and entering my eager mouth while another one was below me and pushed his erect member into my throbbing pussy while I kept on masturbating… they were all around me like flies swarming over a pot of sugar… my moans of ecstasy grew louder although the sounds were dampened as my mouth was totally filled by a huge, pulsating tool which I licked and sucked like crazy… no face, no identity… just this huge tool moving in and out of my mouth and I was dying to make it explode inside my mouth and swallow it all… suddenly I felt a searing pain in my sore anus as somebody forced himself into me very brutally and I sighed from excitement and relief as he plowed into my rear…

My world turned into a blur of ecstasy, hard erect cocks pumping into all my openings… I kept on climaxing over and over again… I was simply high. I lost all touch with reality as I was captured in this wonderful world of lust and I couldn’t tell if this had been going on for hours or days as I was finally left lying on the big cushion, so exhausted I couldn’t move. When finally the servant girl came to lead me back to my cell, I followed her like a zombie… still high after what I had been through.

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I knew I had it coming to me. After the girl had washed me, perfumed me and seen to my make-up, I was once again taken up to the hall. Only, this time the hall was well enlightened and I realized fully well what was going to happen. Comfortably seated around the hall were many men, some with girls kneeling beside them, and I realized that many of them had been using me earlier. Like before I was naked, led by a chain by one of the servants and I kept my eyes lowered. Nothing could stop the itching inside me as I was anticipating what was to come.

Yes, it was so clear! In front of me stood the huge, muscular man who had earlier whipped my breasts with a bamboo cane until I passed out. He was only dressed in a pair of shorts; his muscles playing all over his body. My beloved tormentor was standing beside two pillars with a neutral expression on his face, holding a black, sinister single tail whip in his hand. A couple of cuffs attached to chains were hanging down from the pillars and I felt warm inside as I realized I was once again going to be punished by one of the most cruel men of them all. A man who was totally immune against any pleas for mercy, but who knew very well the value of an undamaged body. I knew that my body was a valuable resource for these people and that they didn’t want me crippled. I had also learnt – in a most painful way – that they had refined their ways of making a woman suffer the most without damaging her to the extreme. Yes, I was valuable property for these men – and that was my guarantee for no permanent damage. However, as for making me suffer they knew no limits…

My hands were cuffed and a spreader bar cuffed to my ankles. Then the chains were stretched so my toes barely touched the floor. My arms were stretched out between two pillars and I was very open and vulnerable from all angles. I could sense the excitement amongst the public as my tormentor walked around me and uncoiled his heavy bullwhip. He cracked it against the stone floor several times and the cracks of the whip echoed like gunshots in the hall.

I felt the usual fever building up within me and as my tormentor walked behind me I flashed a smile at him and pouted my lips. ‘Yes, lover, please use your whip on me. I know you can do it better than anyone else…’

There was a pause when time seemed to be standing still and then I felt the sting of the first lash across my back… the whip curling around me and the tip bit into my breasts. I moaned from pleasure. It was not a very hard lash…. but it stung and I knew it had left a red line across my back. It cracked again and again.. and my body reacted the way I knew it would… and I couldn’t do a thing about it! This man was so clever! He knew how to start whipping me with light strokes, then increase the force gradually as my heat was building up and my endorphin level was rising.

I cannot possibly describe the joys of being whipped by that man. He could read my body like an open book and he knew perfectly how to use his whip on me to make me hot. Surely, he could easily have whipped me to death if he wanted to… and in my crazy, pain-drugged mind I wasn’t sure I would have minded, either. These people had realized a long time ago what really fired me… and of course I realized that this made me a valuable asset to them. Yes, I was their brothel slave! A cheap whore, who got her kicks out of being whipped and humiliated. This was what I wanted! Instead of being forced to do something against my will, the punishments just added to my enjoyment and I was kept in a constant state of sexual arousal. That made me all the more valuable to them, as the customers knew they would be getting full value for their money.

The lashes fell faster and harder on my body and I was desperately tugging at my bonds, while the whip made me dance. As the heat was spreading in my body, he increased the force and I begged him not to stop. I could hear excited shouts from the audience, no doubt urging him to whip me harder. I was steaming hot… obsessed with a fever that just made me wanting more. In the back of my mind, I reflected that it was good that the man wielding the whip was a lot more sensible than I was and that he had complete control over the situation.

He was a real artist with the whip. Now he was concentrating on my bottom and time after time the lash dug into my globes, leaving good welts. Then he lashed out from above, making the whip sting again and again between my sore buttocks, licking my anus with a tongue of fire. My screams and moans mixed with the sharp cracks of the leather whip against my body and all the time the voices of the men watching the scene got louder. I felt very secure in that I knew that no real harm would be done to me, although I would be thoroughly whipped. And I really didn’t mind some scars and marks on my body. I have a good healing flesh and the scars on my body I saw as marks of love. Marks of lust. Yes, it hurt… but it hurt so good! My entire mind was filled with the desperate longing for the lash… no matter what happened.

Suddenly, the whipping stopped. A tall man rose from his chair and stepped forward, gesturing to the man with the whip. The heavy bullwhip was handed over and the stranger stood in front of me, almost drooling as he uncoiled the whip. His eyes were glowing with obsession as he turned around, swung the whip with full force and lashed out right at my belly. The pain was so intense I almost fainted. The lash curled around my body and after I regained my breath I let out a blood-curling scream. He struck again and I realized that this man was going over the edge… I could only hope for somebody to stop him before I was seriously hurt. This was pure pain and fear – gone was the pleasure I had just experienced when being whipped by my beloved whipmaster. But nobody seemed to take notice. In the corner of my eye I could see the man who had handed over the whip standing by looking, with a neutral expression on his face. Obviosuly he was doing nothing to stop the terrible torture. For the first time I was really scared. Had this man paid for whipping me to death? I could feel blood oozing out of several deep cuts on my body and I soon lost my voice from the screaming. I had a dim picture of the spectators watching my ordeal before I finally mercifully passed out. The last thing I saw was this man wielding the whip with full force, sweat running down his face and with a grim expression on his face. I realized he had lost control of himself and that he would whip me until I hung limp in my shackles…. if he would stop even then.

Then I drifted away into total darkness, with the cracks of the whip and the shouts of the audience ringing in my year.

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