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Any volunteers?

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Some scenes that personally appeal. Punishment over a bench in a Prison scenario. I like the hair pulling a lot and panties (possibly soiled) stuffed into the mouth. The humiliation and degradation of female prisoners. They appear to be punished for minor infractions and the male prison staff look like they enjoy their work. Would you volunteer for that girls?
Do you have the source for this? I've seen bits and pieces of this elsewhere, but don't know where it comes from. These guys do seem to be quite rigorous and realistic about administering a judicial corporal punishment. I love it that when, after her punishment, one of the women puts both arms to her side while the guard is handcuffing one wrist to her waist chain, the other guard grabs the woman's free wrist and places it firmly back on top of her head (Pr9.)
 
Do you have the source for this? I've seen bits and pieces of this elsewhere, but don't know where it comes from. These guys do seem to be quite rigorous and realistic about administering a judicial corporal punishment. I love it that when, after her punishment, one of the women puts both arms to her side while the guard is handcuffing one wrist to her waist chain, the other guard grabs the woman's free wrist and places it firmly back on top of her head (Pr9.)
I believe they come from A MIss Marchmont " severe" video which I think was called "Prisoner" or something similar.
 
After some diversions, let's go back to our volunteers !


(Jeremy)

What a craze these floggings of volunteers have caused!
Since people know that every morning these public tortures take place, there are more and more lurkers who come to replenish the suffering of others and, every day, volunteers are also refused because the line of candidates keeps getting longer.
Who would have thought that such demonstrations would be so successful.
It must be said that the show is of quality and the actors, so different from each other, are absolutely remarkable.
I do not understand how it is that the city has not yet introduced a system of tickets to charge for assistance.

This is not a problem that could concern me, Jeremy Lloyd, because I live in the square and, from the top of my balcony, I would not miss under any circumstances the daily representation .
I am the privileged witness of this new fashionable attraction.
Generally naked with my partner Jessica, armed with high-performing binoculars, I am fervently all that happens and I must say that we sometimes caress each other almost every day and even more so this show of suffering excites us to the highest point .

So, this morning I was attracted to three women who showed up very early to make sure they could have one of the torture posts.

The first, a woman whose age must approach the seventy arrived first and went straight into the queue .
I was very surprised because people of this age are rare enough to be whipped.
When she stripped naked and showed off her body marked by the years, I found her very beautiful and very brave.
I found very beautiful her big saggy breasts falling on her damaged belly, her pubic fleece very important and her huge buttocks that tremble with each of her movements. Despite all the flaws of her body, she did not seem to be showing off and even seemed rather proud and happy to be able to expose her naked body.

The other two, who follow her and seem to know her, are in their thirties.
After a few words exchanged between them, they give up their clothes to expose their almost perfect plastics.
They look pretty much alike, probably very firm high breasts, a flat stomach and an artistically designed pubic fleece with, to finish with beautiful buttocks and very long legs superbly curved.
The contrast is obvious between these two and the older but, despite these totally different physical, I find all three beautiful and very courageous .

But the time has come and it is with a decided step that they are heading to their torture post.

All three tied up in the same way, in front of the crowd to show off!

It is very erotic to see this dozen people completely naked, tied by the wrists, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their tormentors and the beginning of the flogging that they came voluntarily to undergo .
In front of this painting, I call Jessica who, without hesitation, kneels before me and begins to perform me a blowjob of which she has the secret and which has never disappointed me.

The executors have just appeared and I'm pushing Jessica away because I don't want to ejaculate now.

The oldest of the three has inherited a colossus who will inflict thirty nine painful blows of the cane while her neighbor will suffer seventy five strokes of horsewhip by a female athlete tanned and proud and naked chest .
For the third, the seventy five strokes will be given by another colossus with a very flexible and very sharp natural rod.

I see a friend in the square and ask him if he knows the names of the three women I decided to follow the turtle and he tells me that they would act on Mirna, the oldest and Kathy and Jennifer .

This is the beginning of the flogging and Mirna's colossus focuses directly on the thick chest of his victim, which he marks with red lines from the first blows!
Except for a slight grin of pain, she has not loosened her teeth but when her right nipple explodes, she can not hold a high cry .

Seeing that he has found the place that hurts, thr colossus attacks the other nipple in order to make him suffer the same fate.
Mirna screams, shakes to avoid being hit but it's hardly lost, all the blows carry .

The executioner then begins to attack her belly and every time the cane falls on this sensitive skin filled with stretch marks, she leaves a bloody red mark.
Mirna is really destroyed!
And it's not over yet because the remaining shots are intended for the inside of her big soft thighs and her sex.

For all her courage and will, Mirna begs for her executioner to stop, to beg her mercy, but this word does not exist in the language of this brute.

The pain she experiences is constant and, although she would like to, these pains do not seem to turn into pleasure.

Bleeding from everywhere, it is surely with relief that she sees her ordeal end.

This is different for Kathy, her neighbor who saw the pain quickly turn into pleasure and seemed to be carried away by a violent and long orgasm.

For Jennifer, despite the many cuts caused by the sharp rod, she seems to have managed to get over the pain and find herself in a second state where the suffering no longer exists and where the cries are those that express immense bliss.

Here they are detached but always exposed to the public who do not spare them.

I take my hat off to them and, seeing the dignity of their attitude, I wonder if, one of these days in the company of Jessica, we are not going to also go and test our resistance in front of a torture post.

The show excited me really hard, it's time for Jessica to resume her oral sex, I have a terrible desire to ejaculate in the back of her throat .
 
After some diversions, let's go back to our volunteers !


(Jeremy)

What a craze these floggings of volunteers have caused!
Since people know that every morning these public tortures take place, there are more and more lurkers who come to replenish the suffering of others and, every day, volunteers are also refused because the line of candidates keeps getting longer.
Who would have thought that such demonstrations would be so successful.
It must be said that the show is of quality and the actors, so different from each other, are absolutely remarkable.
I do not understand how it is that the city has not yet introduced a system of tickets to charge for assistance.

This is not a problem that could concern me, Jeremy Lloyd, because I live in the square and, from the top of my balcony, I would not miss under any circumstances the daily representation .
I am the privileged witness of this new fashionable attraction.
Generally naked with my partner Jessica, armed with high-performing binoculars, I am fervently all that happens and I must say that we sometimes caress each other almost every day and even more so this show of suffering excites us to the highest point .

So, this morning I was attracted to three women who showed up very early to make sure they could have one of the torture posts.

The first, a woman whose age must approach the seventy arrived first and went straight into the queue .
I was very surprised because people of this age are rare enough to be whipped.
When she stripped naked and showed off her body marked by the years, I found her very beautiful and very brave.
I found very beautiful her big saggy breasts falling on her damaged belly, her pubic fleece very important and her huge buttocks that tremble with each of her movements. Despite all the flaws of her body, she did not seem to be showing off and even seemed rather proud and happy to be able to expose her naked body.

The other two, who follow her and seem to know her, are in their thirties.
After a few words exchanged between them, they give up their clothes to expose their almost perfect plastics.
They look pretty much alike, probably very firm high breasts, a flat stomach and an artistically designed pubic fleece with, to finish with beautiful buttocks and very long legs superbly curved.
The contrast is obvious between these two and the older but, despite these totally different physical, I find all three beautiful and very courageous .

But the time has come and it is with a decided step that they are heading to their torture post.

All three tied up in the same way, in front of the crowd to show off!

It is very erotic to see this dozen people completely naked, tied by the wrists, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their tormentors and the beginning of the flogging that they came voluntarily to undergo .
In front of this painting, I call Jessica who, without hesitation, kneels before me and begins to perform me a blowjob of which she has the secret and which has never disappointed me.

The executors have just appeared and I'm pushing Jessica away because I don't want to ejaculate now.

The oldest of the three has inherited a colossus who will inflict thirty nine painful blows of the cane while her neighbor will suffer seventy five strokes of horsewhip by a female athlete tanned and proud and naked chest .
For the third, the seventy five strokes will be given by another colossus with a very flexible and very sharp natural rod.

I see a friend in the square and ask him if he knows the names of the three women I decided to follow the turtle and he tells me that they would act on Mirna, the oldest and Kathy and Jennifer .

This is the beginning of the flogging and Mirna's colossus focuses directly on the thick chest of his victim, which he marks with red lines from the first blows!
Except for a slight grin of pain, she has not loosened her teeth but when her right nipple explodes, she can not hold a high cry .

Seeing that he has found the place that hurts, thr colossus attacks the other nipple in order to make him suffer the same fate.
Mirna screams, shakes to avoid being hit but it's hardly lost, all the blows carry .

The executioner then begins to attack her belly and every time the cane falls on this sensitive skin filled with stretch marks, she leaves a bloody red mark.
Mirna is really destroyed!
And it's not over yet because the remaining shots are intended for the inside of her big soft thighs and her sex.

For all her courage and will, Mirna begs for her executioner to stop, to beg her mercy, but this word does not exist in the language of this brute.

The pain she experiences is constant and, although she would like to, these pains do not seem to turn into pleasure.

Bleeding from everywhere, it is surely with relief that she sees her ordeal end.

This is different for Kathy, her neighbor who saw the pain quickly turn into pleasure and seemed to be carried away by a violent and long orgasm.

For Jennifer, despite the many cuts caused by the sharp rod, she seems to have managed to get over the pain and find herself in a second state where the suffering no longer exists and where the cries are those that express immense bliss.

Here they are detached but always exposed to the public who do not spare them.

I take my hat off to them and, seeing the dignity of their attitude, I wonder if, one of these days in the company of Jessica, we are not going to also go and test our resistance in front of a torture post.

The show excited me really hard, it's time for Jessica to resume her oral sex, I have a terrible desire to ejaculate in the back of her throat .
A. Excellent report on the day's whipping my friend. Hopefully you will consider similar reports with regularity.
 
THE CASH OR THE LASH

Catherine saw Dylan right where he insisted they meet. She was late, but she had made it a rule that you always had men wait on you. She determinedly ignored the line of whipping posts as she walked past them, and the people already stripping off their clothes to take a place at one or another of them.

She thought a sultry, yet humorous bravado would be an appropriate opening gambit.

"God, Dylan, I didn't think decent people even got up this early!" Catherine said. "But I guess they don't," she cocked a thumb back at the posts behind her. "Just the pervs!"

"Shut the fuck up, you jumped up bitch!" Dylan replied. "The only word I want to hear from your suck hole is 'yes!' And that in answer to my question, 'Do you have my money?'"

Catherine's eyes widened in surprise, and she took a step backwards, as though he'd slapped her. Catherine was an attractive woman of middle age, and even at this early hour carefully and beautifully groomed. She was dressed in a Burberry outfit with Prada shoes on her feet, and she had glistening, perfectly groomed nails. A well turned out woman living a wealthy and entirely respectable life style.

You would never suspect she couldn't afford it.

"You seem like a nice lady, Cathy," Dylan said. "and I seem like a nice man. But make no mistake, I'm not. I am an understanding man, to be sure, which is why I've given you an extra week. But I'm not a nice man. And I will not take the piss from a middle aged cunt like you. Get it? Time to pay the bloody piper, my dear."

Hearing his filthy words, and staring into his hard, distinctly un-charming eyes, Catherine was for a moment completely non-plussed. And she hated being called "Cathy."

"Listen, Dylan, about that," Catherine said when she had recovered her composure. "Please, you have to understand. You know things have been tough lately, yes? My husband didn't get that promotion and he's cut me off, and we're having a little trouble making ends meet right now, you know, but I definitely will have the money by early next week. At the latest. I promise. And you are a nice man. I know you are."

Catherine reached out to him, to touch his arm, because men liked when a woman touched their biceps, but he gripped her wrist roughly and spun her toward the posts.

"Do you see all those posts, there, Katy, the ones you so carefully ignored on your way here? I've reserved one just for you. You kept me waiting, you silly cow, and the answer to my question I shall assume, is No, you don't bloody have my money. So here's what you do. You go up to the posts, you strip, and you take your place. You do that, Kate, and I will forgive your debt. This time."

Catherine hated even more being called "Katy."

"I won't do it." she said.

"Listen, you fat slut," Dylan hissed in her ear, "I know where you live, I know who your husband is. Don't you dare test me!"

Looking into his eyes was enough to tell Catherine how serious he was.

She nodded yes, unable to speak the word.

Trembling and tearful, Catherine walked up to the staging area in front of the posts. One of the executioners, an exceptionally well muscled young man, took her in hand.

"You must be Catherine, then," he said. "The gentleman's already made arrangements. The law requires I ask. You're doing this voluntarily, yeah? Of you're own free will, like, yeah? And to the best of your knowledge you're of good health and sound mind, yeah? Right then! Strip off and put your clothes in the box at the base of that far post, nearest the gentleman, and shackle yourself in."

Numbly, Catherine complied. She tried not to look at the others, who, like her, were preparing themselves for the ordeal. It was dreamlike, surreal. She had never seen so many naked people of both sexes in one place. And now she was to be one of them. Although it should have been the very last thing on her mind, as she stripped she couldn't help but mentally compare her own body to those around her. Yes, she could stand to lose a few more pounds, but those sessions with her personal trainer were paying off. Her breasts might be a little too large, and perhaps not as firm as they used to be, but her ass, if anything, was better; just a bit wider and fuller; more enticingly feminine. She covered herself with the pile of her clothes as she carried them to the post, and once she had deposited them in the box, covered herself with her arms in the classic pose of female modesty as she read the brief instructions on the stipes of the whipping post on how to shackle yourself in.

The last instruction was not reassuring. It said, "If you're having trouble, don't worry, the executioner will be right along to help you!"

But despite her trembling hands, she was able to close both shackles. Now she stood exposed to the onlookers, those leering eyes and jeering smiles and dirty remarks.

Catherine hung her head in humiliation and fearful anticipation.

She glanced hatefully at Dylan. He was taking pictures of her. Quickly, she looked away. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of her fear.

Soon enough the executioner was at her side.

"Right then," he said. "The gentleman requested I use the cat o' nine tails on you."

"Oh, no, please!" Catherine pleaded.

"He said you'd appreciate the irony. And he also said it most appropriate for a fat, silly MILF such as yourself. His words, not mine, though I'd go along with the MILF bit."

He slapped her playfully on the ass. "Right then! Let's get to it! The gentleman asked I apply the cat especially harshly. I won't tell you how many strokes. You'll know when I'm done!"

Catherine took a deep breath and closed her eyes and prepared herself for the first stroke.

But nothing could prepare her for the rain of agony the executioner unleashed. The whip whistled and splatted and exploded across her back. She arched in pain to the full extent of her bonds as the tails of the whip cracked again and again across her ass, her back, her thighs.

The executioner was a master of the whip, and worked it up and down, letting the falls dig into the sides of her breasts, wrap around her loins, streaking lines of fire over her writhing body. She cried out, pleading for it to end, her pleas ignored as the whip fell again and again. She ground herself against the post, twisting and writhing and gasping at the unremitting ferocity of the whip.

The whip finally ceased it's work, and shuddering and spent, Catherine's thighs released their grip on the post.

"So, a taste of the cat, eh, Catherine?" Dylan said. "Was it good for you?"

"Fuck you," Catherine gasped. "The cat? Really? You always wanted me to try that, you bastard!"

Dylan laughed. "You should have seen yourself humping the post! Well, you will see yourself. I shot video. So, dinner out, or are you too done in?"

"Only if you find somewhere I don't have to sit down" Catherine said.

Dylan laughed again. "Don't blame you. I'll have Margaret cook us something. I've already asked your mom to take the kids tonight."

Catherine nodded gratefully. Her husband really was a nice man.

"Well, you've got to stand here for a few hours, and I've got to get to work. Just make sure you wipe the post off before you leave. Wouldn't want to leave any juices, might spoil the finish!"

As Dylan turned away, Catherine said "By the way, honey, I was out shopping yesterday, and I saw the most beautiful pair of Manolo Blahniks . . ."
 
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Although living two blocks from the square, I didn't know until yesterday that there were voluntary flogging organized there and that it was more and more successful.

So I went to see what was going on exactly!

It is seven in the morning and the place is already crowded.

I arrive at the moment when completely naked men and women head for the flogging stations and attach themselves to it by blocking their wrists in handcuffs.
All the posts are occupied and I see, on the side, people who have not been lucky enough to be able to appropriate one occupied in getting dressed.

In the volunteers, I recognize some of my neighbors who I never thought would be flogging and exhibitionist amateurs!
Finally, we do not always know the ideas, desires and hidden fantasies of each.

The flogging begins and I wonder who shouts the loudest, the crowd or the willing victims.

I see that Jeremy, one of my friends, is on his balcony with his binoculars hanging around his neck.

Knowing him, I imagine him naked, erect with Jessica, his submissive sucking him.
Having already practiced her, I know that she has a divine tongue.

After all, I'm ringing at their door, the view from up there must be awesome.

They open me and, arriving, I see that they are both naked and that Jeremy's cock is erect.
I join them on the balcony and, indeed, seen from here, the show is awesome!

Seeing these people who suffer voluntarily excites me terribly and Jeremy hastens to check it by passing a hand under my skirt and, knowing me, he knows my habits and knows that I never wear panties.
His fingers quickly reach my vulva more than wet and begin to tickle my clitoris.

The spectacle and the fingers that caress me make me directly enjoy.

Downstairs, the executioners are finished and their victims are left exposed so that the crowd can admire the injuries the whip caused.
It's very pretty and very exciting.

I have now got rid of all my clothes and impaled myself on Jeremy's still erect cock while Jessica, kneeling, licks my clitoris while kneading her friend's balls and masturbating cheerfully.

We explode together and I believe that the echo of our cries of enjoyment must have reached the square because I see many faces turning to the balcony.

- Did you like it asked Jeremy?

- What, your cock or the show?

- Both but my dick you already knew! I'm talking to you about the show!

- Of course, this attracts me terribly and I believe that, tomorrow, I will be very early in the queue!
What I regret a little is that I have to present myself alone!

- Do you want Jessica to accompany you? I know she also wants it!

- Why not, but you wouldn't come with us?

- I would come willingly, you know me, but for tomorrow, I offered to film you so that you can see yourself suffering and, I know, enjoy your suffering.

It's agreed, tomorrow I will be on the square naked and whipped with Jessica.

Very excited, I can not help but take Jeremy's cock in hand and masturbate to make it stiff and hard.

Evening was starting to fall when I decided to go home happy and still excited.

Tomorrow is going to be a great day.
 
“Happy Birthday Mister,” my little girl leaned over from her place in the passenger seat of my car and kissed me. The embrace began in a chaste manner, no more than a brush on my lips, but soon became more insistent, passionate, lust-fuelled … it always did. She was my fantasy girl, my soul mate, my lover, she had been ever since we first met in the pub near her university. What I, a middle-aged general surgeon, had done to deserve the full attention of this gorgeous second year history student I had no idea … but from that very first ‘session’ in the woods, we had been together … more or less.

And now here we were. The car was parked in the allotted spots and it was time.

“You sure you want to do this?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said without hesitation smirking just a little as she looked straight ahead and wiggled her hips provocatively. I glanced down at her lap at the point where her hands were bunching the material either side of her short, thin Spring dress. In seconds her white lace thong was off and being held up for me to take.

“There you go mister, you’ll be wanting these I guess?” she was giggling now, I loved her so damn much.

“Are you excited Little One?”

“Yep.”

“Are you turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Shall we go?”

“Fuck, yeah!”

She laughed and I joined in.

As we walked across the grass the mist of the early morning still swirled around our feet, mine protected by boots, hers bare. We held hands, fingers entwined as I glanced to my side and smiled at her, she returned the smile and pushed her shoulder playfully into mine.

“What?” She chuckled.

“Nothing …” I grinned back, before adding. “It’s just that this is the best birthday present I have ever had. Thank you.”

We stopped, kissed, and hugged and she replied, “You’re more than welcome mister.”

And she meant it.

We soon reached the posts. It was 6:30 am and the site was deserted, and it was likely, that being a weekday morning, it would not be busy … my Little Girl could be the only volunteer today. I hoped so. All attention from whatever audience was to gather, would be on her. My perfect slut.

“This one, I think.” She chose her post, rough-hewn wood, large self-locking iron manacles.

I nodded, “If you’re sure,” I replied.

“Bloody hell it’s chilly,” she shivered, pulling the dress up and over her head. After folding the garment and placing it in my bag I took her into my arms and held her naked body until the trembling stopped.

“Better?”

“Yes”

“Excited?”

“Yep.”

“Scared?”

“So fucking much, and I fucking love it mister.” I laughed. She was wild and I loved her for it.

“Ready?”

She nodded. No words.

Backing up to the chosen post I angled my head and raised my eyebrows. “Really?” I questioned.

Once again, she nodded, and with a provocative grin said, “It’s your birthday mister.”

And so, pulling her arms high to her head I fastened her into the post with her back to the rugged timber. She was to endure the whipping on the front of her body. I loved this Little Girl so much!

“Kiss me mister.”

I obliged and then some, as our tongues danced and my hand cupped her breast.

“Now go, and make sure you get a great view!”

I nodded, kissed her once more and left to wait the hour before today’s appointed whip-master or mistress arrived.


The Little Girl shackled to the post is of course sweet @Peony - I will therefore leave it to her to decide whether she wishes to share the actual whipping itself with you all :)
Yes please! I would just love that!!! XXX
 
Six in the morning, I'm there.

For the moment, except for a few curious people who are afraid of missing the least moment of the show, the square is deserted.

I ring Jeremy's house, Jessica comes to open me and kisses me greedily.
She is naked, her small breasts point and I run my hand between her legs, she is soaked.
On Jeremy's advice, she decided not to dress and thus to cross the square already naked .
The idea does not displease me and I immediately leave my clothes under the admiring eye of Jeremy, and that of his camera, which has just appeared.
It is true that I find us terribly sexy with everything you need where it is needed and our two totally shaved pussy clearly visible between our legs.

It is almost time and people are starting to arrive while the line of volunteers is forming.
I only take with me two pairs of handcuffs and a small key held by a wire around my neck.

In our Eve outfit, we cross the square under the admiring whistles of the crowd.

No problem, we are among the number who will be able to set up a torture station.
The more the fateful moment approaches, the more I am excited and the more I have in me this desire to suffer excruciatingly in order to reach this moment when my most intense orgasms pass through me.

The moment has arrived and I take Jessica by the hand and pull her towards the central post which, in fact looks like a cross.
I block one of my pair of handcuffs in those hung on the left of the "patibulum" and close them on Jessica's tender wrists then I do the same on the other side where I block myself!
We will thus be one against the other when the executioners begin to whip us.

We are ready and determined to make a good appearance in front of the crowd who insults us and in front of our executioners who will let off steam on us.

Here they are, moreover, arriving with all their equipment and two of them are positioning themselves in front of our torture station!

- Gentlemen, you can decide the number of shots you will hit us but I demand that it be with a "bullwhipp" and that you spare no effort!
If we are here, it is to suffer and not to be caressed.

A little surprised by my words, they agree to the whip and promise us a hundred strokes each.

We are going to be completely demolished but I like that they decided to give us a hundred blows each.
I am literally completely drenched and impatiently await the first lash.

And it begins, due, dryly and we both scream in pain!
I believe that we will each benefit from more than a hundred lashes because close to each other as we are, practically touching us, the blows intended for one may extend over the other.

It is our shoulders and back that are targeted first!
The shots are precise and painfully awful!
I imagine that my back must resemble that of Jessica and be streaked with red stripes that, after this treatment, I would love to exhibit.
Now our buttocks and thighs are the targets of our executioners.
It's strange, but the more the blows multiply, the less they seem painful to me!

Our executors now rotate us so that they can continue their work on our front panel.
I love being martyred at my breasts and I try to push them forward so that they don't forget them but for that, I can count on my executioner who does not spare them!
It seems to me that a gentle heat is invading my vagina and makes my clitoris stand up.
The blows descend towards my belly and my pubic area while the heat begins to spread throughout my body!
Each time the whip is crushed on my skin, I feel flashes which cross my body, it becomes good, very good, excellent, enjoyable and I let myself be carried away by an insane orgasm which I express by characteristic cries.
Now, each blow received only increases my enjoyment, I feel myself liquefy, my pussy which has now been touched several times runs continuously along my thighs!
I am hoping that my ordeal never stops and I think I would even like to die because my pleasure is infinite.

Alas, all good things come to an end and when I emerge from my enjoyment, I see that my flogging is over.

My legs are soft and I let myself hang by my wrists.
If I was not attached, I believe that exhausted as I am by my long and devastating orgasm I would collapse all my long on the ground.
So taken by my pleasure, I have not seen how Jessica endured her ordeal but I will be able to see it because I am sure that Jeremy's camera did not miss anything from the show that we have just offered.

They come to detach us from our post, but our wrists are blocked by the extra pairs of handcuffs that I had brought, the key of which is on my neck!

We are made to get up but it is in a very unstable balance that we will continue our exhibition.

Although marked for a good time, I do not regret having offered my body to the crowd as well as to the whip.

It was divine, to do it again.
 
“Happy Birthday Mister,” my little girl leaned over from her place in the passenger seat of my car and kissed me. The embrace began in a chaste manner, no more than a brush on my lips, but soon became more insistent, passionate, lust-fuelled … it always did. She was my fantasy girl, my soul mate, my lover, she had been ever since we first met in the pub near her university. What I, a middle-aged general surgeon, had done to deserve the full attention of this gorgeous second year history student I had no idea … but from that very first ‘session’ in the woods, we had been together … more or less.

And now here we were. The car was parked in the allotted spots and it was time.

“You sure you want to do this?” I asked.

“Yep,” she said without hesitation smirking just a little as she looked straight ahead and wiggled her hips provocatively. I glanced down at her lap at the point where her hands were bunching the material either side of her short, thin Spring dress. In seconds her white lace thong was off and being held up for me to take.

“There you go mister, you’ll be wanting these I guess?” she was giggling now, I loved her so damn much.

“Are you excited Little One?”

“Yep.”

“Are you turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Shall we go?”

“Fuck, yeah!”

She laughed and I joined in.

As we walked across the grass the mist of the early morning still swirled around our feet, mine protected by boots, hers bare. We held hands, fingers entwined as I glanced to my side and smiled at her, she returned the smile and pushed her shoulder playfully into mine.

“What?” She chuckled.

“Nothing …” I grinned back, before adding. “It’s just that this is the best birthday present I have ever had. Thank you.”

We stopped, kissed, and hugged and she replied, “You’re more than welcome mister.”

And she meant it.

We soon reached the posts. It was 6:30 am and the site was deserted, and it was likely, that being a weekday morning, it would not be busy … my Little Girl could be the only volunteer today. I hoped so. All attention from whatever audience was to gather, would be on her. My perfect slut.

“This one, I think.” She chose her post, rough-hewn wood, large self-locking iron manacles.

I nodded, “If you’re sure,” I replied.

“Bloody hell it’s chilly,” she shivered, pulling the dress up and over her head. After folding the garment and placing it in my bag I took her into my arms and held her naked body until the trembling stopped.

“Better?”

“Yes”

“Excited?”

“Yep.”

“Scared?”

“So fucking much, and I fucking love it mister.” I laughed. She was wild and I loved her for it.

“Ready?”

She nodded. No words.

Backing up to the chosen post I angled my head and raised my eyebrows. “Really?” I questioned.

Once again, she nodded, and with a provocative grin said, “It’s your birthday mister.”

And so, pulling her arms high to her head I fastened her into the post with her back to the rugged timber. She was to endure the whipping on the front of her body. I loved this Little Girl so much!

“Kiss me mister.”

I obliged and then some, as our tongues danced and my hand cupped her breast.

“Now go, and make sure you get a great view!”

I nodded, kissed her once more and left to wait the hour before today’s appointed whip-master or mistress arrived.


The Little Girl shackled to the post is of course sweet @Peony - I will therefore leave it to her to decide whether she wishes to share the actual whipping itself with you all :)
The wood of the post is cold and morning-damp against my nakedness. Against the smooth of my bare back.
I know how I will push against its roughness, how the whip will fling me against it. How I will move against it. Its roughness a second torture, flaying me with every stroke.
I'm glad I was early. I'm glad I got this post. I'm glad my arms are fixed above me, almost lifting me, opening me. Making me bare for my whipping.

I can feel the air against me. I love this part. The waiting. Anticipating. Naked. Displayed. Letting time slowly drip. Until it's time.

There are others here now. Some alone, some with lovers. Some willing, some maybe less so. Wandering around the posts, touching, choosing. Removing their clothes. Fat, slim, dark hair, blonde hair, red hair, young, not so young. Pretty, one is. Pretty. She has herself chained next to me. Facing her post. Kissing it. Her back to the whip, when it comes. Her lovely breasts to one side. A single tear.

And we are waiting. And then he arrives. There's a crowd now. Looking at me looking at them.

He walks slowly around. Five of us. Sizing us up. Working out how to share his strength between our bodies. Deciding which whip to use on us. Deciding how much pain he wants to give. Deciding where to start.

I look to the ground. Not sure why. I guess I don't want to seem pushy. I hear him come. He raises my chin and stares. He smiles. He doesn't give a shit. That's good. I don't want him to care for me. I want him to hurt me. Badly. And I want my Mister to enjoy it.

He touches me. Touches my breast. Squeezes my nipple. I bite my lip. Runs his fingers down my belly. Touches me. He's chosen me. He's going to start with me.

But he doesn't.

He steps back. He moves to the pretty girl next to me. He presses his fingers into her bare back. She winces. He speaks quietly to her. She looks at me. She's crying. She mouths "twenty". She's so lovely. I hope he gives me more than twenty. I want him to make me bloody.

He steps back. There's a special silence. And then the sound of his whip. A bullwhip. A sound of air parting. A sound of the cord cracking into her. Her head flies back. She's trembling. Her mouth wide. Gasping. For the second. She tries not to cry out. The third. She screams. The fourth. Drooling. The fifth. Pushing her face into the post. And so it goes. Crying. Panting. Her back crossed with the lines from the whip. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. It's almost over. I would want it to continue. She's lost count. Sobbing. Twenty. She braces for the next one. There is no next one. It's done. Slowly she realises. Her breathing is loud. She looks at me. She tries to smile. She can't. She shakes her head. She's done what her lover asked. She doesn't know why he wanted it. But she complied. She's shaking. She wants him to take her home. He won't. He wants to leave her there. He's satisfied. He wants her to hang on her post. Naked. He wants her to feel alone.

And now.

Me.

It's my turn. He's back in front of me. I want to do this. I want to make my Mister happy. And me. Too.

It's a flagellum. Good. Knotted. Good. Fine strings. Black knots. Good. To cut me. Good.

He stands close to me. Drapes his whip over my shoulder. I'm ready. I want him to hurt me. I want him to hurt me good. Fifty times good. Fifty times on my breasts and belly and thighs. Good. Til I'm bloody for my Mister. Til I am shuddering in pain. Good.

And he does. Me. Good. Every one of them. Every one. Cutting me. Slicing me. Making me dance in my chains. Making me gasp. Making me hurt. I hate the hurt and love the hurt and want it to stop never stop. Til I am a bloody messed up girl. Til I am cut. Til my tits are cut. Til my sides are cut. Til my wrists are bleeding in their chains. Til my whole body his screaming at him to stop. But I want him to carry on. I want him to hurt me til I can't breathe. I want to bleed for him and for Mister and for the people who watch this mad girl who wants to hurt.

Fifty.

Over.

He's pleased.

I look at my Mister.

He looks at my bloody bareness. I smile. He's happy. I'm glad he's happy. I love making him happy. Once I am freed from this lovely post he will hold me and kiss me. And maybe he'll fuck me. If he wants. And maybe he'll bring me back. Or maybe I will come back anyway. I want to hurt again soon. For me.
 
The wood of the post is cold and morning-damp against my nakedness. Against the smooth of my bare back.
I know how I will push against its roughness, how the whip will fling me against it. How I will move against it. Its roughness a second torture, flaying me with every stroke.
I'm glad I was early. I'm glad I got this post. I'm glad my arms are fixed above me, almost lifting me, opening me. Making me bare for my whipping.

I can feel the air against me. I love this part. The waiting. Anticipating. Naked. Displayed. Letting time slowly drip. Until it's time.

There are others here now. Some alone, some with lovers. Some willing, some maybe less so. Wandering around the posts, touching, choosing. Removing their clothes. Fat, slim, dark hair, blonde hair, red hair, young, not so young. Pretty, one is. Pretty. She has herself chained next to me. Facing her post. Kissing it. Her back to the whip, when it comes. Her lovely breasts to one side. A single tear.

And we are waiting. And then he arrives. There's a crowd now. Looking at me looking at them.

He walks slowly around. Five of us. Sizing us up. Working out how to share his strength between our bodies. Deciding which whip to use on us. Deciding how much pain he wants to give. Deciding where to start.

I look to the ground. Not sure why. I guess I don't want to seem pushy. I hear him come. He raises my chin and stares. He smiles. He doesn't give a shit. That's good. I don't want him to care for me. I want him to hurt me. Badly. And I want my Mister to enjoy it.

He touches me. Touches my breast. Squeezes my nipple. I bite my lip. Runs his fingers down my belly. Touches me. He's chosen me. He's going to start with me.

But he doesn't.

He steps back. He moves to the pretty girl next to me. He presses his fingers into her bare back. She winces. He speaks quietly to her. She looks at me. She's crying. She mouths "twenty". She's so lovely. I hope he gives me more than twenty. I want him to make me bloody.

He steps back. There's a special silence. And then the sound of his whip. A bullwhip. A sound of air parting. A sound of the cord cracking into her. Her head flies back. She's trembling. Her mouth wide. Gasping. For the second. She tries not to cry out. The third. She screams. The fourth. Drooling. The fifth. Pushing her face into the post. And so it goes. Crying. Panting. Her back crossed with the lines from the whip. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. It's almost over. I would want it to continue. She's lost count. Sobbing. Twenty. She braces for the next one. There is no next one. It's done. Slowly she realises. Her breathing is loud. She looks at me. She tries to smile. She can't. She shakes her head. She's done what her lover asked. She doesn't know why he wanted it. But she complied. She's shaking. She wants him to take her home. He won't. He wants to leave her there. He's satisfied. He wants her to hang on her post. Naked. He wants her to feel alone.

And now.

Me.

It's my turn. He's back in front of me. I want to do this. I want to make my Mister happy. And me. Too.

It's a flagellum. Good. Knotted. Good. Fine strings. Black knots. Good. To cut me. Good.

He stands close to me. Drapes his whip over my shoulder. I'm ready. I want him to hurt me. I want him to hurt me good. Fifty times good. Fifty times on my breasts and belly and thighs. Good. Til I'm bloody for my Mister. Til I am shuddering in pain. Good.

And he does. Me. Good. Every one of them. Every one. Cutting me. Slicing me. Making me dance in my chains. Making me gasp. Making me hurt. I hate the hurt and love the hurt and want it to stop never stop. Til I am a bloody messed up girl. Til I am cut. Til my tits are cut. Til my sides are cut. Til my wrists are bleeding in their chains. Til my whole body his screaming at him to stop. But I want him to carry on. I want him to hurt me til I can't breathe. I want to bleed for him and for Mister and for the people who watch this mad girl who wants to hurt.

Fifty.

Over.

He's pleased.

I look at my Mister.

He looks at my bloody bareness. I smile. He's happy. I'm glad he's happy. I love making him happy. Once I am freed from this lovely post he will hold me and kiss me. And maybe he'll fuck me. If he wants. And maybe he'll bring me back. Or maybe I will come back anyway. I want to hurt again soon. For me.
Thank you my sweet slut, that was the best birthday present ever ... now, let's get you home!
 
Yesterday was my turn and despite the pain caused by my injuries I could not help coming back to the square today so that I could admire the flogging of the new volunteers.

All the posts are occupied, it's a great day!
There is everything, women, men, young, older and my attention is especially drawn to two women exposed side by side.

They both seem to be impatiently awaiting the start of their ordeal.
The back glued to their post, they generously expose their anatomy!
And it's very pretty and very exciting, I would like to be able to approach them, caress them, pass my hand between their legs so that I can check whether knowing that they will soon be cruelly whipped and being fully exposed to them makes an impact.
I imagine their pussy dripping from their cum, their clitoris swollen with blood waiting to be touched to cause them to click.
Honestly, despite the treatment my dick underwent yesterday and the pain it causes me, I can't help having a great erection.

In fact, I seem to know them, the youngest is Peony and the other, the queen of the masochists, is Nicole, a Frenchwoman!

I hope it will start soon because I really want to see them suffer together, to see if their reactions are going to be the same!
They are beautiful exposed like that and I suppose they will be divine in their suffering and their enjoyment.

The contrast is flagrant between the two, on the one hand Nicole, in the prime of her life, self-confident for whom the suffering that she admirably tames is a drug that leads her to unimaginable orgasms.
On the other hand, Peony still very young and at the beginning, promising of course, in learning pain and very in love with her master for whom she would do everything to be satisfied, maybe even go as far to die for him!
She is also there perhaps a little for herself but especially because her lord and master asked her.

But their flogging begins, brutal, cruel.

Nicole begins by externalizing her pain with screams but after a certain time, the more the blows mark her and the more they make her suffer, the more she approaches the moment where all the suffering will fade to give way to pleasure.
And this moment is coming!
Nicole is no longer the same, the cries she utters then are different, it looks like her personality has changed and that she is now in a parallel world where she is no longer herself!
It's Doctor Nicole and Misses Hyde.
The orgasms that go through her are so intense that she faints.
Once revived by a bucket of cold water and the blows resume, she starts again, as if in a trance, as if the fire of her past orgasm brooded in her and regained strength with the touch of the whip on her skin.
The flogging finished, she is of course marked all over the body by the bloody traces left by the whip but again and above all completely exhausted, exhausted but happy to have once again enjoyed unimaginable.

The flogging of Peony is different, you feel when you see her contorting each time the whip breaks on her skin, hurts it, makes her bleed that she likes it, that she likes to suffer, that she likes to feel nick the skin and especially that she likes to remain dignified to please her master, to completely satisfy him.
Her whole body is marked, her whole body is bleeding but she keeps her head high.
Her pussy must drip with cum and he must not to miss her much to pass the course of suffering, this divine moment which leads to the orgasm.
I believe that it is psychological and that she should, when she will be found opposite her executioner which inflicts to her this suffering that she adores, thinking a little less about her master and thinking more about her, her pleasure, her enjoyment.
As soon as she gets there, a different Peony will appear before her executor, a Peony who will have learned to tame her pain, which will have learned to transform her pleasure from suffering into total enjoyment.

I can not look away from these two beautiful women who have just given us an unique show.
I admit that I would love to be naked next to her to undergo the same treatment!
I am sure that even if all the lashes hit my cock, it would not succeed in getting the erection that the presence and attitude of the two women would have caused.

Who knows ? Maybe one of these days ...
 
Yesterday was my turn and despite the pain caused by my injuries I could not help coming back to the square today so that I could admire the flogging of the new volunteers.

All the posts are occupied, it's a great day!
There is everything, women, men, young, older and my attention is especially drawn to two women exposed side by side.

They both seem to be impatiently awaiting the start of their ordeal.
The back glued to their post, they generously expose their anatomy!
And it's very pretty and very exciting, I would like to be able to approach them, caress them, pass my hand between their legs so that I can check whether knowing that they will soon be cruelly whipped and being fully exposed to them makes an impact.
I imagine their pussy dripping from their cum, their clitoris swollen with blood waiting to be touched to cause them to click.
Honestly, despite the treatment my dick underwent yesterday and the pain it causes me, I can't help having a great erection.

In fact, I seem to know them, the youngest is Peony and the other, the queen of the masochists, is Nicole, a Frenchwoman!

I hope it will start soon because I really want to see them suffer together, to see if their reactions are going to be the same!
They are beautiful exposed like that and I suppose they will be divine in their suffering and their enjoyment.

The contrast is flagrant between the two, on the one hand Nicole, in the prime of her life, self-confident for whom the suffering that she admirably tames is a drug that leads her to unimaginable orgasms.
On the other hand, Peony still very young and at the beginning, promising of course, in learning pain and very in love with her master for whom she would do everything to be satisfied, maybe even go as far to die for him!
She is also there perhaps a little for herself but especially because her lord and master asked her.

But their flogging begins, brutal, cruel.

Nicole begins by externalizing her pain with screams but after a certain time, the more the blows mark her and the more they make her suffer, the more she approaches the moment where all the suffering will fade to give way to pleasure.
And this moment is coming!
Nicole is no longer the same, the cries she utters then are different, it looks like her personality has changed and that she is now in a parallel world where she is no longer herself!
It's Doctor Nicole and Misses Hyde.
The orgasms that go through her are so intense that she faints.
Once revived by a bucket of cold water and the blows resume, she starts again, as if in a trance, as if the fire of her past orgasm brooded in her and regained strength with the touch of the whip on her skin.
The flogging finished, she is of course marked all over the body by the bloody traces left by the whip but again and above all completely exhausted, exhausted but happy to have once again enjoyed unimaginable.

The flogging of Peony is different, you feel when you see her contorting each time the whip breaks on her skin, hurts it, makes her bleed that she likes it, that she likes to suffer, that she likes to feel nick the skin and especially that she likes to remain dignified to please her master, to completely satisfy him.
Her whole body is marked, her whole body is bleeding but she keeps her head high.
Her pussy must drip with cum and he must not to miss her much to pass the course of suffering, this divine moment which leads to the orgasm.
I believe that it is psychological and that she should, when she will be found opposite her executioner which inflicts to her this suffering that she adores, thinking a little less about her master and thinking more about her, her pleasure, her enjoyment.
As soon as she gets there, a different Peony will appear before her executor, a Peony who will have learned to tame her pain, which will have learned to transform her pleasure from suffering into total enjoyment.

I can not look away from these two beautiful women who have just given us an unique show.
I admit that I would love to be naked next to her to undergo the same treatment!
I am sure that even if all the lashes hit my cock, it would not succeed in getting the erection that the presence and attitude of the two women would have caused.

Who knows ? Maybe one of these days ...
Nicole and Kathy Need this before their via crucis
 
Monica and I always have this irresistible desire in us to come and offer our bodies to the public and the thongs of the executioner's whip but the wounds from our last passage are not yet closed enough and we must therefore still wait a few days or even a week before to once again be able to realize our common fantasy!

Being able to achieve it is already great, but achieving it regularly is exceptional.

Among the city authorities, whoever had this idea must not have imagined that it would attract as many people and that so many volunteers would respond to the call for this public torture.

Today, all positions are still occupied and the place is crowded.

I would like to be able to follow one or the other of the volunteers but all, despite their bodily defects, are magnificent and show such courage and such a will that I cannot make up my mind.

This time, however, I was struck by two young beauties who arrived already naked on the square and paraded proudly in front of the delirious crowd charmed by this additional attraction.

But, I know them, we are almost neighbors with one of them, her name is Starbuckslut and we have had the opportunity quite often to meet in clubs!
And the other is the girlfriend, Jeremy's submissive who has already whipped and "raped" Monica so many times.
I know he lives nearby but I don't know where!
Monica points me to a balcony, Jeremy is there!
How about we make him a visit?
From this balcony, the view must be unique!

We ring and Jeremy's voice answers us in the intercom asking for our identity, we answer him and the door opens.
We arrive in the apartment, jeremy is on his balcony, naked, a camera on his shoulder recording the performance of Jessica his submissive and Starbuckslut his friend.
He finished his adjustments and put his camera on a tripod, he is ready not to miss the flogging of his two friends who chose to be grouped on the same pole of torture.

While waiting for the show to start, Jeremy invites us to put ourselves at ease!
It is true that it is very hot and, here, everything will be allowed to us, it is not like on the place.
So we undress and show Jeremy the well-marked traces of our recent visit as volunteers in the square!

Downstairs, it just started!
The sound of cracking whips and the cries of people being whipped resonate in the square while Jérémy's camera records the show and his sex reaches a respectable size. As I like to take care of a man like a woman, I take it in the mouth and suck it before I turn around and offer him my ass.
Monica guides it in me then come take me in the mouth so that we both enjoy!

In the square, Starbuckslut has already passed the stage of pain and seems to be traveling in a parallel world where everything is only pleasure and enjoyment!

Jessica seems to be struggling a little but is obviously looking to join her friend in the enjoyment!
A few strong punches from the executioner have just started her chest well and the next one that she receives between her thighs wide apart sends her to the same world as Starbucslut!

It is very beautiful to see them enjoy both together.

They must now remain exposed and we see that they both have the worst difficulty standing.

As they have no clothes to put on, they are the first to cross the square, proudly showing off their bruised bodies.

Back in, they lie down on Jeremy's huge bed to let Monica heal their multiple wounds.

Obviously, after such a flogging, the five of us have furious cravings for sex and quickly the bed becomes part of an improvised orgy.

The day was full and the evening which is falling guarantees us a long and very hot night.
 
At the city's BDSM club, all the members greatly appreciated the initiative that had been taken and which authorized these public floggings.
Many have already presented themselves there and the comments they have made to others have been much appreciated.

Some of our male and female submissives, despite the desire they all have to offer their bodies to the caresses of the whip, did not find the audacity and the courage to come forward to participate in this humiliating and cruel spectacle.

The club manager, after having discussed it with certain masters and mistresses, therefore decided to ask the authorities to be able to exceptionally organize one of these days a special flogging session which would take place at 1:00 p.m. and which would be reserved for the few members of the club who have not yet dared to present themselves as volunteers during normal sessions.

Permission is granted and the program is started!

We had to limit participation to twelve people when there were almost thirty requests!

But, this morning at ten o'clock, all the selected participants are there at the club, impatient to know how this unusual activity will unfold.

They are naked and they put a slave collar around their neck and a leg spreader at their ankles then their wrists are handcuffed behind their back.
Mistresses and masters have agreed to play the game and are shirtless with very tight panties and leather boots and a whip in hand!
They will frame the human chain of submissives who are connected by their necklace.

Twelve people chained naked, seven women and five men, will therefore be walked through the streets of the city, exposed to a hostile crowd, ready to do anything to humiliate them, and brought to the square to be whipped publicly.

People have certainly been informed of the organization because there are many on the street to encourage or criticize the procession that is now leaving the club!

As soon as they come out, we can see that not everyone is in the same frame of mind!
Some are comfortable being exposed in such a way, it really excites them and it is noticeable directly, men are erect and women have their bits of breasts stretched and the inside of their thighs shiny with the cum that constantly flows from their pussy .
Others are embarrassed, trying to hide their private parts but can't!
It's really an ordeal for them because the people in the crowd notice it directly and they become their favorite targets!

Instead of heading directly to the square where they will be whipped, they make them go around the park because the alleys are covered with very sharp pebbles that tear the soles of their feet!
Little extra torture!

Then it's the procession of shame to the square, all along the road, are just insults, throws of eggs and rotten fruits and vegetables, it's "Game of Thrones" revisited!

Well encouraged by the whips of their escorts, the participants are now in sight of the square which is black with people!

One foot after another and quite painfully it is under a blazing sun that they now cross the square and are detached and positioned each in front of their flogging post!

The punishment will be the same for all, sixty shots of "bullwhip", thirty in front and thirty behind!

It is their shoulders, back and buttocks that will receive the first caresses of the whip.

The executioners are all specialists and know how to hurt their victims very badly!

In a concert of cries of pain accompanied by the howls of the raving crowd, the show begins!
The executors look very fit and, quickly, the back of the whipped bodies is marked with red lines sometimes bleeding a little!

The first thirty shots have already been given and the volunteers have returned to present their front face!
Women's breasts and vulva as well as men's cocks and balls are now becoming the favorite targets of executioners.

The difference is now very visible between the long-time submissives, lovers of floggings and other rather beginners who are only there to satisfy their masters!

The former bend to offer their bodies and their private parts to the straps of the whips while the others would rather bend to try to prevent the blows reach the most fragile places of their anatomy!

But nothing helps, the blows are accurate and must do a huge harm!
In fact, three out of the twelve, a man and two women fainted but are directly revived by a bucket of ice water!
They must be aware until the end of the volley of blows.

It's over!

Most, exhausted, are hung by their wrists and, as soon as they are detached, they collapse on the ground in a semi unconsciousness.

The rule is that they remain exposed to the public for an hour and are therefore forced to rise despite their weariness!

This is a very long hour for them and when they come to chain them together again, some feel this as a remission of their torment.

However, they have to leave, painfully redoing the path that will bring them back to the club.
The pace is even slower than to come and the crowd is still as aggressive towards them!

Some collapse by dragging others into their fall and then the whips of the masters who encourage them to continue their ordeal.

This is diminishing, the club is in sight, will be over soon!

It is with an egg of relief that they walk through the door but they do not know that it is not yet the end!

They are directed to the basement, to the dungeons where they will be tied to the wall by their collars, their wrists always connected by chains to these necklaces but this time in front, no more in their back!

It is around 5:00 p.m. and they won't be released until dawn!

A long and painful night will begin for them.
 
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