Aramis
08-24-2003, 1:03 PM
The Whipping
I thought she was joking when she had made a reference to a whip earlier, but it was a full-blown black leather mama, thick by the handle, intimidating, as was my furious Master Deniece.
“Strip and get your ass out to my backyard!” she ordered. Fearful, I hastily disrobed and found my way outside. It was dark now, and chilly. I tried to stay close to the house, so as not to be seen.
She came out with two pair of cuffs and some bungee cords. “Get by that tree,” she said as she gestured towards a sizable tree in the middle of her back yard (a medium sized yard). I only dared hesitate for a second when I looked at her and saw her glaring, I just obeyed.
She followed me and told me to face the tree, and make like I was hugging it. She affixed wrist handcuffs on my wrists, and cuffs wide enough for my ankles to the ankles. Then she hooked one bungee cord hook to a hole in one ankle cuff and ran it taut around the other side of the tree, and put the other hook in a hole in the other ankle cuff. She did the same with my wrists. I was now firmly planted against the tree, held in place by cuffs and bungee cords. My face was turned to my left.
I heard her crack the whip. “You took advantage of me,” she said, “and you dared to take the privilege of licking my feet without my permission! I should have whipped you from the start, just to show you once and for all who’s boss. But I’ll remedy that now. Say, slave boy, how about a few pleas for mercy?”
I was sweating in fear. What had I gotten myself into? Those blasted Bears!
I heard her walk away, and then a back yard flood light came on. We were illuminated! Oh no! Then she came back.
“You don’t want any mercy?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, please, have mercy!! I didn’t mean to disobey; I just was too eager to adore you! Please, please, have mercy! Don’t beat me!”
The whip cracked across my back. The wind was knocked out of me and I couldn’t breathe for several moments. Now I was really scared.
She laughed. “You know what you might say that will get me to have mercy?”
“What?”
“’What, Master?’” she corrected me whilst whipping me a second time, and then a third.
“What, Master?” I said.
“Begging me to whip you,” she said. “Come on, beg me to whip you.”
“Master, I don’t deserve any kindness, but please, whip me, show me my place, punish me for being too forward. Please, whip me if it pleases you. I beg of you, let me feel pain for your enjoyment and pleasure.”
“Oh, all right!” she laughed musically again. “You want a beating, I’ll give you one!”
If you’ve ever seen the movie “Brubaker,” there are some beating scenes, and they take all and any romance you might ever have of what it’s like to be whipped. It hurts and it’s savage. She inflicted pain on me and laughed and taunted me. I saw her neighbor next door gaze out her back door and watch her discipline me in the floodlight. I heard her say, believe it or not, “You go, girl! Give that white bastard all he’s got coming to him, centuries of payback!”
“The next time you give me an order at work,” Deniece said to me after she finished and came around to face me, “you’ll remember who whipped whom! You belong to me and you’ll do what I say from here on out!”
She disconnected the cords and I fell onto the grass, sweating and relieved it was over. She bent down and held the handle of the whip before my face.
“Kiss it, boy,” she said. “Kiss the whip that keeps you down.” I did as she commanded.
Then she walked back into the house. “Follow me, when you’re strong enough to crawl back in,” she said.
I thought she was joking when she had made a reference to a whip earlier, but it was a full-blown black leather mama, thick by the handle, intimidating, as was my furious Master Deniece.
“Strip and get your ass out to my backyard!” she ordered. Fearful, I hastily disrobed and found my way outside. It was dark now, and chilly. I tried to stay close to the house, so as not to be seen.
She came out with two pair of cuffs and some bungee cords. “Get by that tree,” she said as she gestured towards a sizable tree in the middle of her back yard (a medium sized yard). I only dared hesitate for a second when I looked at her and saw her glaring, I just obeyed.
She followed me and told me to face the tree, and make like I was hugging it. She affixed wrist handcuffs on my wrists, and cuffs wide enough for my ankles to the ankles. Then she hooked one bungee cord hook to a hole in one ankle cuff and ran it taut around the other side of the tree, and put the other hook in a hole in the other ankle cuff. She did the same with my wrists. I was now firmly planted against the tree, held in place by cuffs and bungee cords. My face was turned to my left.
I heard her crack the whip. “You took advantage of me,” she said, “and you dared to take the privilege of licking my feet without my permission! I should have whipped you from the start, just to show you once and for all who’s boss. But I’ll remedy that now. Say, slave boy, how about a few pleas for mercy?”
I was sweating in fear. What had I gotten myself into? Those blasted Bears!
I heard her walk away, and then a back yard flood light came on. We were illuminated! Oh no! Then she came back.
“You don’t want any mercy?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, please, have mercy!! I didn’t mean to disobey; I just was too eager to adore you! Please, please, have mercy! Don’t beat me!”
The whip cracked across my back. The wind was knocked out of me and I couldn’t breathe for several moments. Now I was really scared.
She laughed. “You know what you might say that will get me to have mercy?”
“What?”
“’What, Master?’” she corrected me whilst whipping me a second time, and then a third.
“What, Master?” I said.
“Begging me to whip you,” she said. “Come on, beg me to whip you.”
“Master, I don’t deserve any kindness, but please, whip me, show me my place, punish me for being too forward. Please, whip me if it pleases you. I beg of you, let me feel pain for your enjoyment and pleasure.”
“Oh, all right!” she laughed musically again. “You want a beating, I’ll give you one!”
If you’ve ever seen the movie “Brubaker,” there are some beating scenes, and they take all and any romance you might ever have of what it’s like to be whipped. It hurts and it’s savage. She inflicted pain on me and laughed and taunted me. I saw her neighbor next door gaze out her back door and watch her discipline me in the floodlight. I heard her say, believe it or not, “You go, girl! Give that white bastard all he’s got coming to him, centuries of payback!”
“The next time you give me an order at work,” Deniece said to me after she finished and came around to face me, “you’ll remember who whipped whom! You belong to me and you’ll do what I say from here on out!”
She disconnected the cords and I fell onto the grass, sweating and relieved it was over. She bent down and held the handle of the whip before my face.
“Kiss it, boy,” she said. “Kiss the whip that keeps you down.” I did as she commanded.
Then she walked back into the house. “Follow me, when you’re strong enough to crawl back in,” she said.