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Oh.
I truly did not know this was the Sacred Blade of the Forefathers.
Yes of course I shall return it to its rightful custodian.
Here it is. Take it.
I regret my sacrilege.
What will be ... my punishment?

Good girl, you recognise your offence, and you come before us in penitence and correctly dressed for your punishment. Come, spread your limbs on the Frame of Sorrow so we may bind you, and begin your ordeal.
 
Good girl, you recognise your offence, and you come before us in penitence and correctly dressed for your punishment. Come, spread your limbs on the Frame of Sorrow so we may bind you, and begin your ordeal.
Yes Sir I do try to be good,
but I realize I've gotten myself into trouble.

The kind of trouble I can't talk my way out of by just saying sorry.

I'll have to be made to show I'm really sorry,
in a way that I can't really achieve on my own ...
I'll need help with that ...
someone to help me along the way to show,

to prove to all I'm sorry,
not say sorry but be sorry,
to show that my penitence is firstmost,
more important now than anything else about me.

Here are my wrists, could you please bind them?
Not that I would think to run or fight,
otherwise I wouldn't have handed you the sword, you know.

I do submit,
but it is easier for me if you bind me,
it makes me feel secure,
it stops the fidgeting and nervousness.

Otherwise I don't know what I'll do,
because yes, I'm anxious.

So here are my wrists,
crossed,
will you bind them for me?

Now lead me to you know where,
and show me what I've earned,
It's not something you can tell me about...
it has to be learned.

The Frame of Sorrows will present me,
I'll step in,
be the picture that it shows,
The frame of Sorrows to hold me firm,
I'll try my best to make my image,
a lesson for anyone who follows.
 
Yes Sir I do try to be good,
but I realize I've gotten myself into trouble.

The kind of trouble I can't talk my way out of by just saying sorry.

I'll have to be made to show I'm really sorry,
in a way that I can't really achieve on my own ...
I'll need help with that ...
someone to help me along the way to show,

to prove to all I'm sorry,
not say sorry but be sorry,
to show that my penitence is firstmost,
more important now than anything else about me.

Here are my wrists, could you please bind them?
Not that I would think to run or fight,
otherwise I wouldn't have handed you the sword, you know.

I do submit,
but it is easier for me if you bind me,
it makes me feel secure,
it stops the fidgeting and nervousness.

Otherwise I don't know what I'll do,
because yes, I'm anxious.

So here are my wrists,
crossed,
will you bind them for me?

Now lead me to you know where,
and show me what I've earned,
It's not something you can tell me about...
it has to be learned.

The Frame of Sorrows will present me,
I'll step in,
be the picture that it shows,
The frame of Sorrows to hold me firm,
I'll try my best to make my image,
a lesson for anyone who follows.

You are right to submit.
Place you hands behind your back, cross your wrists, I will bind them for you.
There, secure and proper. I will lead you
This way, girl
We have to walk through the town
Shoulders back, no shuffling
Show the people you do this of your own will
Ignore their comments
Do not be concerned that they watch
The sway of your breasts
The swing of your bare thighs
They will see more, much more
When we reach the place of your penance
Chin up
Look, girl
We are here, the market square
The Frame, is it not magnificent?
Let me unbind your wrists, for a moment
Soon they will be bound again
Wide apart, and your ankles too
Don't be shy, step this way
The people wait.
 
Yes Sir I do try to be good,
but I realize I've gotten myself into trouble.

The kind of trouble I can't talk my way out of by just saying sorry.

I'll have to be made to show I'm really sorry,
in a way that I can't really achieve on my own ...
I'll need help with that ...
someone to help me along the way to show,

to prove to all I'm sorry,
not say sorry but be sorry,
to show that my penitence is firstmost,
more important now than anything else about me.

Here are my wrists, could you please bind them?
Not that I would think to run or fight,
otherwise I wouldn't have handed you the sword, you know.

I do submit,
but it is easier for me if you bind me,
it makes me feel secure,
it stops the fidgeting and nervousness.

Otherwise I don't know what I'll do,
because yes, I'm anxious.

So here are my wrists,
crossed,
will you bind them for me?

Now lead me to you know where,
and show me what I've earned,
It's not something you can tell me about...
it has to be learned.

The Frame of Sorrows will present me,
I'll step in,
be the picture that it shows,
The frame of Sorrows to hold me firm,
I'll try my best to make my image,
a lesson for anyone who follows.
Do you want, a woman, a man or a machine!
 

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« Place you hands behind your back, cross your wrists »
I obey, rise and turn round,
my hands behind my back,
Yours there too, quickly binding me,
expert touch, no fumbling,
the rope just right ... tight but not cutting.
You've done this before.

I'm committed now, fully yours.
I've given myself, you used no force.
You lead, I trust.
Things must be made right --
I don't know how, but you'll find a way,
and guide me.

It is you I have to trust now,
for the arc of my life to make sense
... not those who sent me here!

Away now!
You lead me, from the shrine were I was captured
I, the thief,
blade-stealer,
Now the girl without a sword.
Under my bare feet - soft earth,
next gravel path, then cobbles, as we get to town.

You've done this before.
Man of experience, maintainer of rightful order,
Perhaps puzzled a bit,
that someone of my constitution could have brought herself to this position,
(it comes from trusting the wrong people)
But you know how to deal with this.
With me.

You've done this before.
But,

Everything that's expected of me now,
is so new and unsettling.

Usually I know how to act,
play my part, fulfill my role -- pull up a script.

I have no script for this.
So what you'll see...
that's all me.

No acting, no playing,
not something trained and tried, to disguise and dissemble.

Everything that's expected of me now,
is so new and unsettling.

The town now.
A quick end, out there, by the shrine, I could bear
hold my fear for only a breath
But here! All the people!
I'm so afraid...

But with your voice firm and assuring
I try to walk upright and open
No ... not try,
... I do.
Throw my hair back, keep my head up high.
Not defiant, just ... present

People here and there ... pause, point, joke and jeer
You say, ignore them, be unconcerned, pay no heed ...
It's true they would do likewise with any other
but still, so exposed,
'Not much in the way of tits on that one!'
'The stripes will look great on her though'
'Haha I'm sure she'll be a treat to watch under the lash!'
'Oh yeah I bet she's a squirmer and a squealer'


I go red,
because as they discuss how my body,
how my breasts might respond
under the caress of the lash,
They already do!

My skin aflame with shame,
every step so self-conscious,
So aware of my thighs close, my hips' sway,
each time I plant my foot an effort
Barely in balance

On fire with shame,
But from where this other warmth, pulsing low in my belly?
Oh can't the earth open and swallow me?
I falter, I think I can't go on,
I want to curl in on myself and vanish

« Chin up, look girl »
You've sensed my weak moment
And I see it,
the Frame, my place!
Tall and proud.

And so many people, already!
Yet a firm voice and clear goal
make me go on, step by step,
... climb the platform
... there.

« Let me unbind your wrists, for a moment »
I don't know my knots so well,
but your deft hands unravel everything
Coils of rope fall away
You pause a moment,
Close, almost tender now,
my wrists tingling in your grip.


The crowd surveys my bareness.


My heart hammers out its frantic beat
fear, dread, thrill,
but outward,
I'm still.
 
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Take a deep breath, girl
Close your eyes, if you must
Steady yourself, I will guide you
Up the steps, up to your place
Of penance, of sorrow
Exposed before the people
Whose honour you have besmirched

Be strong for me
And I will ease your suffering
I will not be cruel
Beyond what the law requires
We will do this together
You and I
This will be our time
Our intimate dance
You, and I, and the Frame

Here, let me take this wrist
Wrap it round, firm
This cord goes here
Around the post
And the other wrist
How delicate it feels
But you will prove your strength
This cord like so
Around the other post
And so you are crucified
Arms stretched out
Open for the people

Now your legs
This ankle, bound and fixed
Here against the post
Toes barely touching the platform now
And the other leg, like so
Stretched and open
Yet there is still give
Some freedom to move
To provide a spectacle
Once we begin

No one insults your tits now
Rising and falling between your outstretched arms
The eyes are drawn to them
And of course
To the delicate slit between your legs
Visible now as never before
Topped with light hair, but not obscured
Your thighs tremble with the unaccustomed strain
A thrill of fear runs through you

Be strong for me, now
The trial begins
The payment is due
The whip is ready
I will not hurt you
Not beyond what is required
Tell me now
What is fair payment for your sin?
Think on that
And ready yourself
For the lash.
 
My hands are free for a brief moment
Breathe in, breathe out,
my head feels light,
and spinning
(Don't want to faint here)

You seem to know,
Steady yourself you say,
you give me that moment
to find myself again

Then your fingers close round my left wrist
You're not pulling, you let me raise my arm
You guide me to place it where it belongs
That far out!

The rope is familiar now
The knot is new
I tug a bit, then turn my head
so eyes can meet
and I can signal yes
It's firm, it's right, it holds me good


Your hands slide down along my arm,
gently probing, feeling, assessing,
into my armpit, around and back again,
taking my measure, now digging in a bit,
over and under my shoulder blade
feeling for muscle, tendon,
judging what this girl can bear
so you'll know how far you can strain me.

Your hand at rest now, on the nape of my neck,
I lower my head, for a moment I hide
My hair cascades
covers my face
drapes my my breasts,

Heavy and warm, rough but kind,
your hand on the nape of my neck,
For a little I cry
for a little you let me.

Frame of Sorrows.
Pain and sorrow
earned and well-deserved.

Back again I throw my head and hair, and
feel my features slip
on my tear-stained face
Yes,
you people,
that is a smile you saw
on trembling lips

You let your hand slide to the small of my back
Push me out a little
I'm a bit wobbly and weak-kneed
So you catch me a little
Your other hand low on my belly
And in between, my fire's kindled
For now I stifle my moan
But my shudder you feel

I follow you with a quick sidestep
As my right arm goes up
This time it's quicker
You know me

As girls go I'm tall,
but this girl is on her tiptoes now.
Oh! this will hurt.
Soon I'll be stretched. To the limit and beyond.

Your hands course down, contouring me,
Over waist, hip, thigh,
(In between, I get a quick smack)
Back of the knee.
Calf.
Ankle.
Lift. Position. Rope.

A bit ungracefully I hop sideways again, one-legged now.
It is happening.
No, it's not just happening...
you are doing it ...
because I am needing it...

And then ... up I go.
Stretched and spread and strained.
But I am not just hanging there,
there is a little give in the ropes
I fall forward, till they go taut
Now they dig in.

I need to shift
move my center of gravity,
strain my arms, arch my back,
'Oh yeah I bet she's a squirmer and a squealer' one had said
Well now I'm squirming
Till I can hold myself right.

It's just moments but already muscles tremble and my breath is sharp
Soon the sweat sheen shows
But I hold myself still
Tall and proud stands the Frame
Stretched and humble I am held

All my bareness to be seen
My small breasts high and wide apart
Aching to be be touched, to be mauled,
to be hurt, to be ... anything
Thighs spread wide, quivering,
my nether lips spread
The air is crisp and cold
against my heated folds

Oh my heart bursts with shame
This time I release my moan,
I sag, I crumble, fall forward
Head down again, I discover
what might await me ...

A wooden bucket.
To wake me with a splash of water if I faint?
(Or to catch my guts?)
Would I not deserve it?

And there is, also, the knife
I stole a blade should I not feel a blade?
It could cut my hair? Cut my breast? Flay my skin?

Tapers and hooks,
and barbs and pliers
and things unknown

I take them in, unafraid
It is the artist's palette
Every hue must be there
To paint the full picture
of my punishment
how broad each brush, how deep each hue
That, to choose, is for you

What I don't see, that is the whip.
That is in your hand.

Tell me now,
you say
What is fair payment for your sin?

Oh you make things hard for me!
(As you should)
I should say what is fair for me?

I am an evildoer, but still,
I have this arrogance to believe
that if you peel away the layers of deceit
like from an onion
at the very end there should be a rightful part
and that tells me
What is fair payment? - I can neither ask for little because I deserve much
Nor can I ask for death - it's a childish flight
like a little girl in trouble pulling the sheet over her head

What I must ask is

The lash must go everywhere
make me cry, make me beg, make me break,
make me forget myself
make me lose my voice
make me find my guilt

make me faint and wake me and do it again.

And then,
there is the secret,
that so far only the two of us know.

You caught me with a crime completed, and I surrendered
but when the others arrived
You said, 'I believe she was sent for the sword, but I secured it'
You did not lie
but so far they believe
that I did not so much as lay a hand on the sacred blade
But Gods I had it in my hand
took it with my filthy thievish fingers
You know

You have that truth of me
You have that power over me

What good is truth unknown
What good is power gone to waste

You will know when to reveal
the fullness of my crimes

But now Sir
I am ready
So strike when you wish
where you wish
how you wish

I draw my breath

'I bet she's a squirmer and a squealer' one had said

don't make me squeal
make me howl
 
My hands are free for a brief moment
Breathe in, breathe out,
my head feels light,
and spinning
(Don't want to faint here)

You seem to know,
Steady yourself you say,
you give me that moment
to find myself again

Then your fingers close round my left wrist
You're not pulling, you let me raise my arm
You guide me to place it where it belongs
That far out!

The rope is familiar now
The knot is new
I tug a bit, then turn my head
so eyes can meet
and I can signal yes
It's firm, it's right, it holds me good


Your hands slide down along my arm,
gently probing, feeling, assessing,
into my armpit, around and back again,
taking my measure, now digging in a bit,
over and under my shoulder blade
feeling for muscle, tendon,
judging what this girl can bear
so you'll know how far you can strain me.

Your hand at rest now, on the nape of my neck,
I lower my head, for a moment I hide
My hair cascades
covers my face
drapes my my breasts,

Heavy and warm, rough but kind,
your hand on the nape of my neck,
For a little I cry
for a little you let me.

Frame of Sorrows.
Pain and sorrow
earned and well-deserved.

Back again I throw my head and hair, and
feel my features slip
on my tear-stained face
Yes,
you people,
that is a smile you saw
on trembling lips

You let your hand slide to the small of my back
Push me out a little
I'm a bit wobbly and weak-kneed
So you catch me a little
Your other hand low on my belly
And in between, my fire's kindled
For now I stifle my moan
But my shudder you feel

I follow you with a quick sidestep
As my right arm goes up
This time it's quicker
You know me

As girls go I'm tall,
but this girl is on her tiptoes now.
Oh! this will hurt.
Soon I'll be stretched. To the limit and beyond.

Your hands course down, contouring me,
Over waist, hip, thigh,
(In between, I get a quick smack)
Back of the knee.
Calf.
Ankle.
Lift. Position. Rope.

A bit ungracefully I hop sideways again, one-legged now.
It is happening.
No, it's not just happening...
you are doing it ...
because I am needing it...

And then ... up I go.
Stretched and spread and strained.
But I am not just hanging there,
there is a little give in the ropes
I fall forward, till they go taut
Now they dig in.

I need to shift
move my center of gravity,
strain my arms, arch my back,
'Oh yeah I bet she's a squirmer and a squealer' one had said
Well now I'm squirming
Till I can hold myself right.

It's just moments but already muscles tremble and my breath is sharp
Soon the sweat sheen shows
But I hold myself still
Tall and proud stands the Frame
Stretched and humble I am held

All my bareness to be seen
My small breasts high and wide apart
Aching to be be touched, to be mauled,
to be hurt, to be ... anything
Thighs spread wide, quivering,
my nether lips spread
The air is crisp and cold
against my heated folds

Oh my heart bursts with shame
This time I release my moan,
I sag, I crumble, fall forward
Head down again, I discover
what might await me ...

A wooden bucket.
To wake me with a splash of water if I faint?
(Or to catch my guts?)
Would I not deserve it?

And there is, also, the knife
I stole a blade should I not feel a blade?
It could cut my hair? Cut my breast? Flay my skin?

Tapers and hooks,
and barbs and pliers
and things unknown

I take them in, unafraid
It is the artist's palette
Every hue must be there
To paint the full picture
of my punishment
how broad each brush, how deep each hue
That, to choose, is for you

What I don't see, that is the whip.
That is in your hand.

Tell me now, you say
What is fair payment for your sin?

Oh you make things hard for me!
(As you should)
I should say what is fair for me?

I am an evildoer, but still,
I have this arrogance to believe
that if you peel away the layers of deceit
like from an onion
at the very end there should be a rightful part
and that tells me
What is fair payment? - I can neither ask for little because I deserve much
Nor can I ask for death - it's a childish flight
like a little girl in trouble pulling the sheet over her head

What I must ask is

The lash must go everywhere
make me cry, make me beg, make me break,
make me forget myself
make me lose my voice
make me find my guilt

make me faint and wake me and do it again.

And then,
there is the secret,
that so far only the two of us know.

You caught me with a crime completed, and I surrendered
but when the others arrived
You said, 'I believe she was sent for the sword, but I secured it'
You did not lie
but so far they believe
that I did not so much as lay a hand on the sacred blade
But Gods I had it in my hand
took it with my filthy thievish fingers
You know

You have that truth of me
You have that power over me

What good is truth unknown
What good is power gone to waste

You will know when to reveal
the fullness of my crimes

But now Sir
I am ready
So strike when you wish
where you wish
how you wish

I draw my breath

'I bet she's a squirmer and a squealer' one had said

don't make me squeal
make me howl

I have measured your body with my hands
Judged you fit to suffer
Enjoyed the feel of your flesh under my touch
Assessing, feeling, knowing
I must understand what I work with

Your body will do
It is fit for the task
We must meet the needs
Of the Law and the crowd
I see you shiver slightly
You feel the air between your thighs
Body open to the world
You feel the eyes on you
Waiting
Waiting

We will begin now
The whip will warm you
Examine you
Test your strength
Explore your body
Dance for me now
Don't worry, girl
About the bucket, the tools
Such things are for later
Or perhaps not at all
Focus on the moment
When the lash strikes
When the pain bites

And later, when you are ready
We will explore that secret
That little thing between us
That Truth about what you did
But now, the pure examination
Of the lash

Would you like a stick
Or piece of leather to bite on?
No?
Good, it is better that you
Give hearty voice to your feelings

Now girl, we begin
Across your back
The tip curls around to kiss your breast
You stiffen, a gasp escapes
Across your outer thigh
Squirming in response
Your back again, and then
A firm stroke for your arse
That stings, I'll wager
The stiffled scream encourages the crowd
You cannot help but writhe in your bonds now
Your body tries to escape even while your mind
Knows the futility of it
This too is torture

The wide spread legs are a gift
The next is there
A simple flick
Between your thighs
To tickle your womanhood
Now we hear you sing and see you dance
A fine show
Be strong girl, I will not ask
What you cannot give

ph366.jpg
 
Last edited:
Now we hear you sing and see you dance
A fine show
Be strong girl, I will not ask
What you cannot give
Oh how things have turned for me...

p01.jpg p02.jpg ph366.jpg
... first, proud with the prize I'd taken for the thieves' guild
... then, humbled as I surrendered to you
... and now,
my penance.

And the lash it is everywhere.
It shoots and snaps, strikes and bites, winds and curls.
The first blow already,
singing my back and setting my right breast aflame!

I jerk and twist and stiffen in my bonds,
vainly I try to pull my limbs toward me,
all that does is stretch me out better, for the next sting

And I'll never know where that next blow goes
but each time, my body makes a guess
despite myself
You see where my muscles tense
how I shift and twist, clench and quiver
You learn when it is fear and when it is want
as you conquer me with the lash

You quickly get to know me,
how many breaths I take before I feel ready again.

A few times, at the start, you grant me those pauses
wait for that deep drawing in,
wait for that moment
when I bite my lip, shake my head,
tense my muscles in determination

but then you change and set the rhythm,
cutting me off as you will,
sometimes stopping the scream that wasn't quite out of my lungs
making me grit my teeth
sputter choke and gasp,
and hardly have I come up for air, the next bolt strikes!

Oh yes I sing and dance,
I beg, bawl and bleat,
(but never curse)
I wail, spout meaningless syllables, laugh hysterically
slick with sweat now,
spraying with each blow.

The wildest when the lash comes up between my legs
I choke up, go still, then cry myself hoarse
Sometimes a shot right at my mound, on the lips ... and even in between
Sometimes you step closer,
the whip coils up through my slit
its tip searing my belly, or even between my breasts,

Sometimes you work your way slowly up the insides of my thighs
so I'll know what will be coming
almost tenderly flicking as it comes nearer
And you, and they ... all hear me cry,
No please not, no no no
But what you see is

I offer myself
I forget myself
going under
drowning in waves of pain-lust
but never! have I felt so much what it means
to be nothing but me
to be there in the flesh, every sensation
every curve every inch every fiber of my body

If you were to step up to me now
to give the simplest caress, a little cupping and kneading
or gods forbid,, to slowly run the handle of the whip between my legs
(why do I want this)
I could not bear it!
 
You have done well girl
Answered every question
Given yourself wholly
To the dance
This touches you deeply
This is not marks on your skin
This reaches inside, tugs
Your spirit, your desire
Your sense of self

Who are you?
This is the question
We both explore
I have seen you flinch
I have heard your cries
Yet also, I know
I feel, sense, your need
You want this
You need this
And more, much more

Sweat runs down your arms
Streaks your belly
Muscles tighten as you grip your bonds
Soft flesh jiggles with each blow
And I see, in your breathing
In your face
I see what you have not admitted to yourself
You want this, and more

Now, not my whip but my hand
Reaches around and cups your soft breast
My breath, on the back of your neck
Rough fabric brushes your wounds
My whip runs down your under arm
Along your side, caressing now
Your breath catches, what is this?
Sensations on your skin
Warmth in your core
Does your body respond to this
As readily as to the lashing?

Let us see now
If you are ready
My hand holds you
The whip slides over your thigh, under
You shiver as the handle travels
Up your inner thigh, slowly
Plenty of time to think about
Where it is going
A gasp as it finds
That place between your legs
Sliding along your parted lips
Well lubricated, very smooth
Back and forward
Nudging that knob of flesh
That centre of your sensation
Your full attention is here
The outside world closed off
You breathe faster
Head back
Hips moving in answer
You cannot help yourself
Sliding, parting
Slowly
The handle finds its way inside
 
You have done well girl
Answered every question
Given yourself wholly
To the dance
This touches you deeply
This is not marks on your skin
This reaches inside, tugs
Your spirit, your desire
Your sense of self

Who are you?
This is the question
We both explore
I have seen you flinch
I have heard your cries
Yet also, I know
I feel, sense, your need
You want this
You need this
And more, much more

Sweat runs down your arms
Streaks your belly
Muscles tighten as you grip your bonds
Soft flesh jiggles with each blow
And I see, in your breathing
In your face
I see what you have not admitted to yourself
You want this, and more

Now, not my whip but my hand
Reaches around and cups your soft breast
My breath, on the back of your neck
Rough fabric brushes your wounds
My whip runs down your under arm
Along your side, caressing now
Your breath catches, what is this?
Sensations on your skin
Warmth in your core
Does your body respond to this
As readily as to the lashing?

Let us see now
If you are ready
My hand holds you
The whip slides over your thigh, under
You shiver as the handle travels
Up your inner thigh, slowly
Plenty of time to think about
Where it is going
A gasp as it finds
That place between your legs
Sliding along your parted lips
Well lubricated, very smooth
Back and forward
Nudging that knob of flesh
That centre of your sensation
Your full attention is here
The outside world closed off
You breathe faster
Head back
Hips moving in answer
You cannot help yourself
Sliding, parting
Slowly
The handle finds its way inside

I like how you use the sweat in anticipation of what is to come and even though it does not seem like it to me she is filled with desperation for what is to come. If she does not get it she will go mad for the pain/pleasure :)
 
Do you want, a woman, a man or a machine!
Okay for anyone who knows me that's not so hard to guess.

Machines!?!? -- Nothing I'd ever want!

However if I'm captured, my wanting may not matter much ...

in fact, me even unconsciously radiating the impression I 'want' this or that might lead a harsh, destructive punisher to confront me with my irrelevance ....
... I'd of course like to think that I mean something to my captor, that it's worth it taking me, punishing me, probing my reactions and seeing what can be done with me.

If humiliation is the goal, having me punished by machine would send the signal that my reactions to any punishment, any possible interplay between me and my captor, are completely irrelevant and worthless. Nobody is even interested in watching how I cope with and process my punishment. I am nothing. I would suffer from the absence of that connection but if my torturer's specific intent is to grind me down that way ...

... it's up to them. I'd hate it but maybe that's the point!

Men?

For sure, of course what I respond best to is a man with strength and natural authority.

The latter is one of those things where, I know it when I see it (and it's not impossible, that a guy develops it before being fully aware of it, and learns to use it fully in, well, you guess what kind of situation).

Yes, the physical aspect is an important precondition, it should be clear that he can physically dominate me in any conceivable situation though he will use that capacity in the right time and right way. How it manifests can be in different ways, there's not one type, and for instance a guy does not need to be taller than me, to dominate me.
But the physical part will fail if he doesn't have the personality and charisma.

Women?

hmmm of course I react to them differently than I react to men, but I'd guess also very very differently than you guys react to them.
Any woman attempting to dominate me in the way a man might, would of course fail grotesquely -- should she want to play that game we'll be making up the rules as we go along.
 
Okay for anyone who knows me that's not so hard to guess.

Machines!?!? -- Nothing I'd ever want!

However if I'm captured, my wanting may not matter much ...

in fact, me even unconsciously radiating the impression I 'want' this or that might lead a harsh, destructive punisher to confront me with my irrelevance ....
... I'd of course like to think that I mean something to my captor, that it's worth it taking me, punishing me, probing my reactions and seeing what can be done with me.

If humiliation is the goal, having me punished by machine would send the signal that my reactions to any punishment, any possible interplay between me and my captor, are completely irrelevant and worthless. Nobody is even interested in watching how I cope with and process my punishment. I am nothing. I would suffer from the absence of that connection but if my torturer's specific intent is to grind me down that way ...

... it's up to them. I'd hate it but maybe that's the point!

Men?

For sure, of course what I respond best to is a man with strength and natural authority.

The latter is one of those things where, I know it when I see it (and it's not impossible, that a guy develops it before being fully aware of it, and learns to use it fully in, well, you guess what kind of situation).

Yes, the physical aspect is an important precondition, it should be clear that he can physically dominate me in any conceivable situation though he will use that capacity in the right time and right way. How it manifests can be in different ways, there's not one type, and for instance a guy does not need to be taller than me, to dominate me.
But the physical part will fail if he doesn't have the personality and charisma.

Women?

hmmm of course I react to them differently than I react to men, but I'd guess also very very differently than you guys react to them.
Any woman attempting to dominate me in the way a man might, would of course fail grotesquely -- should she want to play that game we'll be making up the rules as we go along.
Crucify this woman at once
 
Who are you?
This is the question
We both explore

Who am I? What am I?

The wickedness...
with which I exploited the hospitality,
abused the helpfulness of the good people in this town,
to sneak into the sanctuary, and steal.

The lie ...
still on my lips
when I was confronted,
and surrendered.

Is that all? What I am?

You be the judge.
I know I must pay,
I made it so that I must,
why?

Why lie,
and steal,
but not fight,
or flee?

I don't know, do you?

By now, I think,
you do.

What I am.
Hanging here.
Is what I am,
something you made me?
Or something uncovered,
something denied,
I've always been?

Closer.
You touch me,
the first time after the lashing

Oh yes you did touch me before
when you bound me,
you were reassuringly expert about it,

but now you really touch me.
It is not just surface, not just skin,
you're reaching into me,
as your hands run over me,

you understand what cries out from me,
Yes I am a defeated enemy
Yes I am a captured criminal
But beneath all that ...
a woman ...

So close ...
Your hands on me,
the same hands that caught, that bound, that hurt me!
now tease, caress, soothe,
My back arches and nipples tighten as you cup my breast
Oh goosebumps and shivers and heat welling up
underneath the marks, the welts,
the raised lines drawn by the lash
My skin goes all blotchy

You retreat a bit,
I feel threads of rough fabric pulling
away from where they stuck
to wet welts on my back
like pulling bandage from a wound still too fresh
a fireworks of pain-pricks all over
I shudder

you run the whip down and along me
Oh you cannot do this!
I won't be able to control myself!
You do it, slowly,
Rough the leather-wound handle
Oh no don't ...
don't...
but I pick up the rhythm you give
rub myself against it

I've shut out the people in the square, I hardly see or hear
but some words filter through
a voice that must belong to kindly old man
'They ought to be done with it soon, we don't normally punish trespassers that hard'
(if he knew!)
Others agree,
I ought to be cut down,
but they want me thrown to the crowd

Some want their own turn on the platform,
One voice rises loud,
thick with indignation it seems,
at the response of my body,
demands,
"Crucify this woman, at once!"

Crucify me?

Well, what can it be in the end
Whip me, let me hang, maybe brand me a thief
and let me go?

It's true I'd never cause trouble again here
You would probably believe me
But is that enough to deter others?

Will you have to crucify me?

For half a heartbeat I'm there
At the cross
Laid out for me
I place my wrist, you pass me the nail
I roll sideways on the beams, so I can, myself,
place the first spike
with my right hand at my left wrist,
exactly where it needs to go
you can tell me
Our eyes meet
It must be done?
Yes.
You are ready?
Yes.
And ... and ...


And that is when I can no longer bear it.
Perhaps from far back in the crowd some might miss it,
as I'm not screaming,
I'm gasping silently, exploding on the inside, breathless, shuddering
But anyone looking will see
You grasp firmly into flesh as my thighs tremble and belly spasms
My toes curl, no longer trying to make contact with the ground ...

"Crucify this woman, at once!"

My knees go weak and my thighs are jelly as I hang in the frame
You are not finished with me yet though
The handle finds my opening
circles a bit, presses firmly ... slips in

You could savage me, maul and tear me
but you are careful guiding it in
letting me clearly know though

I absolutely will have to take it
as much of it as you want

It's not easy for a woman
to take such a length of something
that's absolutely straight and unyielding
Boys like to think they're hard as steel
but it's not quite so, they do bend, believe me
this doesn't

So I must angle my pelvis just right
to make it go in as bearably as possible
My breathing ragged
Tilting my hips makes my suspended body tip
You catch me with a hand supporting me
while the other, slow but uncompromising
drives it deeper

One hand in front,
thumb pressing into my lower belly
fingers spreading my lips
and probing between the folds

One hand in back,
the handle resting in your palm
your fingers now also exploring

shame and pain and fear and lust
I'm battered by breakers rolling in from all directions
and finally it's too much

Sounds and voices around me go distant,
sound like meaningless burbling of a stream
then fade into silence with only a steady ringing
I stare blank as black snow drifts across my field of vision
I shiver in cold sweat and slip into nothing

I guess they will see my head fall forward then
my limbs slacken and my skin go pale
I drift in darkness
the last thing I remember is that cry from the crowd

"Crucify this woman!"
 
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You move in rhythm
Tormented
Teased
More than a whipping
You see now, this Frame
Peels away your defences
Exposes your soul
You do not resist
But enter this dance
With desire, hunger
I feel it build
It trembles under my touch
Warm flesh quivering in need
Ragged breath signalling
Your surrender

Do you feel me hold you firm
As you arch
My fingers in your soft flesh
As you shudder your response
Helpless, bound not by cords
But by your body's own response
Now it is time
The handle finds the way
Slips inside

You may remember, girl
When we began this dance
I promised I would not ask
More than you could give
Trust me now
I will be careful
But I will test you
You are stronger than you know

You take it
Moving your hips to help
Finding the angle
My hand holds you, supporting
The other, slow but relentless
Slides the whip deeper

To the crowd it appears
As though you invite
This intrusion
Your movements lewd
Your body twisting
To accommodate this shaft
A woman's passage
Is a wonderous thing
So flexible, given time
I will not ask
What you cannot give

My fingers work
Your folds of flesh
While firm leather, smoothed by use
Probes your innermost womanhood
Tests your control
Seeks a reaction
My own breath comes faster now
I envy that handle
Sliding in, then back
Fingers opening the way
Touching, teasing
I know you have passed the threshold
But we press on
You hang limp as sensations
Wash over you
I can tell
I am here
So close
Not allowing respite
The whip handle pushes you on
Past climax
To another state
You confront your utter helplessness
Your body in control of another
Completely
Is it pleasure now?
Or need, need to reach an end
Relief

This is a world
Just for we two
You and I
Exploring
Drawing out your essential nature
Finding the truth

But, there are others here
From the crowd come calls
As your breath comes faster
"Crucify this woman!"
I hold you tighter
Penetrate you deeper
Push you to a new state
You go limp in your bonds, spent

We rest together
A tender moment
While in my head
That echoing cry
"Crucify this woman!"

Carefully I remove the handle
Come around to the front
Stroke your belly, once
Blood and sweat mingle
Run together
And lower, mix with
The secretions that betray your passion
Looking into your face
I see you are gone
But we are not finished

"Fetch me water
The bucket, yes"
The crowd noise is
Peripheral to my senses
I am focused on you
Your body stretched, suspended
Hanging limp, drained
Beautiful

Water splashes your face
Runs down your chest
Jerk suddenly, gasp loudly
Back from your dreams
To harsh reality
I slap your face
Grasp your jaw
Firmly in my hand
Look into eyes still cloudy
"Come back, girl
We are not finished
Focus, I need you back"

This rope now, fixed to the Frame
high behind you
Let us run it
Between your thighs
Then up again
To this post above
Forming a V
Fixed to the end, dangling at hip height
Here is the empty bucket
Oh, you thought to get
A drink? No
Too soon
You must work for it

The bucket sways
Draws your attention
The empty weight pulls
The rope between your legs
You feel it dig
Into the tender places
Still so sensitive
You rise a little to ease the pressure

I turn to the crowd
Smiling
"Good people, I need your help
I need to wake her up
The rope will help her
But the bucket is too light.
Bring rocks
It will be a game
To lob them into the bucket
To get a reaction
To set her squirming and crying
But don't hit her
This is not a stoning!
Who would like to try?"

Stay strong for me now
You have done so well
 
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