I walked the world to you, babe
A thousand miles for you
I dried your tears of pain
A million times to you
I'd sell my soul for you, babe
For money to burn for you
I'd give you all and have none, babe
Just to, just to, just to, to have you here by me, because
In the midnight hour, she cried “more, more, more”
With a rebel yell she cried “more, more, more”
In the midnight hour babe “more, more, more”
With a rebel yell she cried “more, more, more”
“More, more, more”
‘Rebel Yell’ Billy Idol
It was a rather unusual arrangement, even in my line of work. A very well dressed attorney came to my office with an envelope full of cash and a contract. I left the cash in the envelope and read the contract. When I finished I poured a glass of Seagram’s on the rocks and offered him one too. He declined. He was visible annoyed when I lit up the Marlboro and blew a cloud of smoke over his head.
I told him I prefer to interview the subject personally and he pointed out that the contract stated that the subject was entering the agreement on her own free will and she was sound of body and mind. I told him I didn’t like being brought to ‘undisclosed’ locations. He shrugged and said take it or leave it. I took it.
As I was driven to the meeting I read the conditions again. No hits that would show in cleavage above the nipples; none below 2” beneath the crotch. There would be no safe words. No matter what the subject said I was to continue until she could no longer stand or that I felt she could take no more. Breaking the skin was expected and would result in ‘performance awards’.
I was brought into a room that was in a stone-foundation basement. Across from me was a woman nearly half my age, her wrist bound apart and above her head and her legs held apart by ropes tied between her ankles and iron anchor loops sticking out of the dirt floor. To her left was a large LCD flat screen TV so she could watch. To her right was a steel bucket with a heavy braided cat-o-nine tails soaking in salt water. ‘The Medusa of Bullwhips’ would be a much more accurate description than a ‘flogger’.
Her skin already shined with sweat as she stood under the hot floodlights illuminating her. The heat seemed to enhance the perfume she wore. It wasn’t any cheap shit.
I tapped her hips with the leather-wrapped wood handle (no touching per the contract) and told her to stick her ass out and keep it out. I asked her if she was ready and she shook her head and looked at the screen. With her long dark hair and the angle of the TV I never clearly saw her face.
With the first blow her body tensed and her hands grabbed the ropes that bound her wrists. The second blow drew a suppressed whimper. By the third blow she was wailing like a cat on a hot tin roof.
When I finished she was hanging from her wrists. The stone wall was splattered with her blood and bleeding welts crisscrossed her back. I laid the stained whip across the bucket. She had begged me to quit a dozen lashes before she collapsed and I had whipped her a half dozen times after she did. I turned walked towards the door leaving her body trembling beneath her wrists.
“You owe me for next week, whether you back out or not” I said.
“See you then” she moaned…
tree
A thousand miles for you
I dried your tears of pain
A million times to you
I'd sell my soul for you, babe
For money to burn for you
I'd give you all and have none, babe
Just to, just to, just to, to have you here by me, because
In the midnight hour, she cried “more, more, more”
With a rebel yell she cried “more, more, more”
In the midnight hour babe “more, more, more”
With a rebel yell she cried “more, more, more”
“More, more, more”
‘Rebel Yell’ Billy Idol
It was a rather unusual arrangement, even in my line of work. A very well dressed attorney came to my office with an envelope full of cash and a contract. I left the cash in the envelope and read the contract. When I finished I poured a glass of Seagram’s on the rocks and offered him one too. He declined. He was visible annoyed when I lit up the Marlboro and blew a cloud of smoke over his head.
I told him I prefer to interview the subject personally and he pointed out that the contract stated that the subject was entering the agreement on her own free will and she was sound of body and mind. I told him I didn’t like being brought to ‘undisclosed’ locations. He shrugged and said take it or leave it. I took it.
As I was driven to the meeting I read the conditions again. No hits that would show in cleavage above the nipples; none below 2” beneath the crotch. There would be no safe words. No matter what the subject said I was to continue until she could no longer stand or that I felt she could take no more. Breaking the skin was expected and would result in ‘performance awards’.
I was brought into a room that was in a stone-foundation basement. Across from me was a woman nearly half my age, her wrist bound apart and above her head and her legs held apart by ropes tied between her ankles and iron anchor loops sticking out of the dirt floor. To her left was a large LCD flat screen TV so she could watch. To her right was a steel bucket with a heavy braided cat-o-nine tails soaking in salt water. ‘The Medusa of Bullwhips’ would be a much more accurate description than a ‘flogger’.
Her skin already shined with sweat as she stood under the hot floodlights illuminating her. The heat seemed to enhance the perfume she wore. It wasn’t any cheap shit.
I tapped her hips with the leather-wrapped wood handle (no touching per the contract) and told her to stick her ass out and keep it out. I asked her if she was ready and she shook her head and looked at the screen. With her long dark hair and the angle of the TV I never clearly saw her face.
With the first blow her body tensed and her hands grabbed the ropes that bound her wrists. The second blow drew a suppressed whimper. By the third blow she was wailing like a cat on a hot tin roof.
When I finished she was hanging from her wrists. The stone wall was splattered with her blood and bleeding welts crisscrossed her back. I laid the stained whip across the bucket. She had begged me to quit a dozen lashes before she collapsed and I had whipped her a half dozen times after she did. I turned walked towards the door leaving her body trembling beneath her wrists.
“You owe me for next week, whether you back out or not” I said.
“See you then” she moaned…
tree
