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The Passion of BARBARIA, Rebel Queen, by Scorpio

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I return to the room and look out at spectacle out side. Laetitia, pushes herself up against me, fondling my manhood through ,y clothes . I want to get away from Erin and why I went to get more wine.
"Didn't you get more then that," She asks.
"I also ordered food," I smiled. "We will eat in tonight!."
"Is that all?" she pouts, turning away.
I pick up, the short whip with three thongs and give her a lick across that splendid buttocks. She squeals and jumps, which is repeated as I give a second with a backhand.
?Oh theres more," I said with a laugh.
 
I return to the room and look out at spectacle out side. Laetitia, pushes herself up against me, fondling my manhood through ,y clothes . I want to get away from Erin and why I went to get more wine.
"Didn't you get more then that," She asks.
"I also ordered food," I smiled. "We will eat in tonight!."
"Is that all?" she pouts, turning away.
I pick up, the short whip with three thongs and give her a lick across that splendid buttocks. She squeals and jumps, which is repeated as I give a second with a backhand.
?Oh theres more," I said with a laugh.
Methinks Laetitia is going to be whipped considerably once you see what's in store for poor Barbaria….
 
I walk up to her suspended body, whisper in her ear: "Lady, we are having such a nice time together. You respond beautifully to my lash, and I know it excites you. The people want to see more, and I must give it to them. Put on a good show and I may allow you some small acts of mercy as we move closer to your cross."

What do you mean by "small acts of mercy"? After what's happened to me already, I'm sure that you will understand my suspicion that such acts may not be to my liking.

I grasp the top of the garment that is gathered around her waist, and tug firmly and deliberately downwards. The crowd murmurs its approval as her lower half is revealed, that tight and inviting little arse, the warm and hidden bush between her thighs. It is my mission now to get her to expose herself, to dance and jump and give the people a glimpse of that private place, the delightful pussy which even now must be wet with anticipation.

That sudden stripping away that reveals all ... happens to be one of the most dreaded things he could do to me ... My shame and humiliation at being suddenly stripped bare rivals, and in some ways, even surpasses the pain of the whip lash as one of the worst parts of my ordeal.
 
Owwww! That really hurt! And the crowd is calling for more of the same!

Getting whipped across my breasts is bad enough, but not being able to see it coming, makes it all the worse.

The snap of the whip and the searing pain are all but simultaneous. I recoil in shock and try to catch my breath, steady my nerves and anticipate the next one.

But master of the art that he is, there is no discernible pattern or pace. This phlebas, he plays with me ... plays with my mind, plays with my body ... inflicts pain without warning and with no way of knowing exactly where!

With arms raised overhead and breasts upturned ... swaying ... wobbling invitingly ... as I dance on my tiptoes ... he can choose his target ... will it be the soft undersides, or will it come high and above ... or straight across my poor tender nipples. He’ll punish them all before he’s finished with me! I can count on that!

And I hate this blindfold! It renders me so helplessly vulnerable. I’d much prefer to look him in the eye ... be able to read his mind and his intention before he strikes.

And I’d prefer to be able to see each and every one of this pack of bloodthirsty onlookers who seem to be getting such enjoyment out of watching me suffer. I’d glare at them, if I could ...look down on them ... show them my utter disdain for the likes of them!

“Take this blindfold away!” I scream in frustration.. And my answer is a second lash ... straight across my nipples!

My anguished full-throated scream drowns out the cheers and applause of the crowd.
Your description is highly exciting and very accurate!
And now you are going to dance stark naked for us!
Knowing your secret, that your are aroused too...
 
What do you mean by "small acts of mercy"? After what's happened to me already, I'm sure that you will understand my suspicion that such acts may not be to my liking.



That sudden stripping away that reveals all ... happens to be one of the most dreaded things he could do to me ... My shame and humiliation at being suddenly stripped bare rivals, and in some ways, even surpasses the pain of the whip lash as one of the worst parts of my ordeal.
And of course the fact that you are in no position to hide your naked body from the crowd...
 
I order the rebel to be stripped naked. This meets with the crowd's hearty approval.
@phlebas rips off what is left of @Barbaria1 's clothing, exposing her naked sweat-glistening body to the crowd.
She cries out as she feels the fabric being torn off; some of it had stuck to the raw welts that had been inflicted on her ass as a result of her previous birching. It feels like she is being birched again....
 

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I order the rebel to be stripped naked. This meets with the crowd's hearty approval.
@phlebas rips off what is left of @Barbaria1 's clothing, exposing her naked sweat-glistening body to the crowd.
She cries out as she feels the fabric being torn off; some of it had stuck to the raw welts that had been inflicted on her ass as a result of her previous birching. It feels like she is being birched again....
So, the fun continuous, and they are stripping Erin as well. I give Laetitia a couple of gentle but still stinging strokes across her lovely bottom. She responds by taking my member into her mouth, stroking it with her tongue. "Ah yes," I say as a feeling of pleasure flows through me!
Looking outside as Laetitia works her magic, I wonder if my message will reach its intended in time. I have no fear that the message will be either intercepted of traced back to me It was not even a message, just a common item placed in a certain place were it will be observed by a certain person. No one saw me place it because I was never there. We have our ways, those of the Brotherhood.
 
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I order the rebel to be stripped naked. This meets with the crowd's hearty approval.
@phlebas rips off what is left of @Barbaria1 's clothing, exposing her naked sweat-glistening body to the crowd.
She cries out as she feels the fabric being torn off; some of it had stuck to the raw welts that had been inflicted on her ass as a result of her previous birching. It feels like she is being birched again....

Oh, the humiliation!

Why does it matter to me at all that they strip me naked? Why does it bring such shame? I don’t know, but it does!

It’s not just being naked. Each and every one of us are, after all, naked from time to time; and it’s not just the simple act of being naked before others. That happens too.

No, it’s the way in which they look at me ... their flagrant eagerness and excitement ... how they so anticipate and enjoy the slow bit by bit stripping of my body ... how they breathlessly await the exposure of first one breast, then another ... the bared back ...shoulders ... navel and hips ... and then the climactically sudden and violent removal of any last vestige of modesty that remains!

And ultimately there’s the knowledge that all that has been bared ... stripped naked ... will, in turn, be systematically and artfully subjected to the bite of the lash ... subjected and animated in a way that only a master of phlebas’ standing can orchestrate. Enlivened by the strike of each well-placed lash, my exposed feminine charms will, each in turn, shake, quiver, bounce and wobble to the crowd’s delight ... they will get to see the show they came for, and the show they will remember, at my expense ... my shame and humiliation ... long after it’s over..
 
This woman is revealed again, sweat streaked, bleeding, but undoubtedly beautiful. The crowd want more blood, there is nothing for it but to give it to them.
My aim now is to give it to them, but not to weaken the woman in front of me. I am determined that she will carry her cross all the way, when we have finished here. I need to cut the skin, to draw blood but not bleed her dry! To strike the sensitive, fleshy parts of her body, to make her dance and sing. This is the art, to please the crowd, to put on a show, but leave her strong for the main event.
Her spirit, now, that can be broken. To expose her to the crowd, to reveal her most intimate female parts, and then to torment them, to make her scream and writhe in torment, frantic to escape the pain, to escape the crushing humiliation, this is the road to breaking her resistance.
I pause, admiring her fine figure one more time. I want to see her back arched, see her legs kick, see her breasts sway as the whip guides her this way and that. I'm sure she was a good dancer, now her partner is unforgiving, his touch leading her to move in ways unhindered by any modesty.
This is my gift, freedom!
I draw back my arm, she tenses, delicious anticipation. Where shall I strike? Of course, the newly exposed thigh, smooth and so beautiful, a well aimed strike will wrap around and draw blood from her tight little behind, two for one. Then as she gasps a swift strike on the left breast, to get her swaying. Which one will make her cry out the loudest?
Swish!
Flick!
a satisfying deep "ah" from the first, but a beautiful high pitched squeal from the second. Now I see fear in her eyes.
And so we begin the dance.
 
Oh, the humiliation!

Why does it matter to me at all that they strip me naked? Why does it bring such shame? I don’t know, but it does!

It’s not just being naked. Each and every one of us are, after all, naked from time to time; and it’s not just the simple act of being naked before others. That happens too.

No, it’s the way in which they look at me ... their flagrant eagerness and excitement ... how they so anticipate and enjoy the slow bit by bit stripping of my body ... how they breathlessly await the exposure of first one breast, then another ... the bared back ...shoulders ... navel and hips ... and then the climactically sudden and violent removal of any last vestige of modesty that remains!

And ultimately there’s the knowledge that all that has been bared ... stripped naked ... will, in turn, be systematically and artfully subjected to the bite of the lash ... subjected and animated in a way that only a master of phlebas’ standing can orchestrate. Enlivened by the strike of each well-placed lash, my exposed feminine charms will, each in turn, shake, quiver, bounce and wobble to the crowd’s delight ... they will get to see the show they came for, and the show they will remember, at my expense ... my shame and humiliation ... long after it’s over..
You have to excuse us Barb!
Our simple male brains, comfronted with a gorgous lady like you...We tend to forget too many things!
 
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