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Journey of a Pain Slut ...

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Peony

Magistrate
Journey of a Pain Slut - Act 1 - After her first whipping!

Bear with me, 'coz this is my very ever first posting here, but I did promise! So last week I was pretty busy at uni, but, with the encouragement of my new friends here, I decided to take the plunge and talk to my BF about my interests. Tuesday night. Down the pub and after a long hard day. Me doing work back at my room on the first paper of term, him in the labs or wherever working on his PhD.
We had a pint each (I like a beer!) and then after talking about the football and rugby and other things, I asked him if he'd ever thought about things he'd like to try apart from regular sex. We joshed a bit, then he mentioned that he'd always sort of fancied a threesome, him and two lesbian girls. Pretty standard I told him! So then it was my turn. I said I quite liked a little bit of pain, and mentioned that I'd tried it on myself with a little garden cane (the very thin ones) and with a hairbrush, on my tits and pussy. And I asked him if he'd like to play some games with me to see if he might like it too, doing things to me I said.
All, initially, a bit embarassing. But we talked some more and I convinced him I wasn't crazy and that other people do this and that he must have seen Fifty Shades and so after a while he was quite ok about it and we agreed to give it a try. Later in the week, over at his flat (which is a bit more roomy than mine, and has the huge advantage of having a bed with an old-style bedstead (thinking ahead you see... easier to tie me to!).
We both had heavy days ahead, so we snugged up a bit and had another drink, but then for me it was back to my place and for him to his. We'd see each other on Friday evening we'd agreed. I had lots of work to do before then, and a few special things to sort out and buy!
 
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Peony

Magistrate
Snatching a moment before my coffee break (in the library)... So, my experience really doesn't compete with Danielle's (which I quite envy... although I really don't like the idea of a gag!), but this is how things worked out. In between work, I had a think (and a bit of a Google) about whippy things, and thought I would make somethig for myself. So down at the local hardware store (they exist here!) I bought a rope for a Sheila Maid (those wooden things you can raise up on pulleys for clothes). Quite long and about 4mm wide, so I thought it would be fine for a variety of things. Back home I first of all made my 'whip', just three strands tied together with a sort-of handle (from the rope), and I knotted them at the ends so they wouldn't fray where I'd cut them. And I cut the remaining rope into four separate shorter ropes for tying me up. All set I thought! I confess when I chatted with some mates over coffee on Friday morning about the plans for the evening and the weekend I was getting a few butterflies! I didn't quite tell them my plans, although we did all agree to meet up in the pub on Friday night, as we tend to do. I had this sort of creeping excitement feeling, and a sense that I might be about to do something that was a little bit naughty and a bit 'outside the rules'. The afternoon, with my books, seemed to take quite a long time to pass. But it did, and around four I packed up and slung my nice backpack on and got on my bike and cycled home, packed up a change of clothes, my toothbrush and my bundle of ropes, and headed over to the BFs...
 

Peony

Magistrate
When I got there and he'd let me in (his flat is in a shared house in the student area...typical sort of place...redbrick terrace. He's on the second floor at the top of the house, so lots of stairs and boy are they a mess... nice big room, very nice big bed. Desk. Lots of paper and books and a somewhat broken blind that covers the view of the next terrace and the usually grey and rainy sky), and once I'd got up there I felt knackered, so was a bit fumbly with my stuff and a bit disconcerted when we chatted (after we'd kissed), but I reminded him what we'd agreed and he said Ok again and so I showed him what I'd brought and said that if he was really ok then I'd get undressed. Which I did. And I took out my navel piercing and lay on the bed and smiled at him and said he should go ahead. He looked even more disconcerted so I asked him to tie my wrists and ankles out to the corner posts and then to try the home-made whip. He did all that. I liked the feeling of being tied up by him, all sort of helpless, and I liked it when he ran the ends of the whip over me. OK, I said, now try it out. I knew he wouldn't do it too much or too hard. He tried a stroke on my belly and it didn't really hurt so I asked him to try harder. And that time it did, but in a really good way. Painful and full and yummy. And then he did it a few more times on my belly and boobs, just enough to make them a bit red. I asked him to untie my feet and fix them up to the rail at the bottom of the bed so my legs were lifted up a bit and then asked him to hit me on the inside of my thghs. He didn't want to but he did in the end, after some fooling around, and then he sort of got into the hang of it and used a bit more force, which was gooie painful and made me jolt. I could see my thighs (and closer to my cunt) getting red and some nice red lines forming. It was so ... painfully lovely!
That was enough for him though, and in truth it did hurt a lot.

After, we made love. It also hurt between my legs and while it wasn't the best ever sex (he was a bit nervous still after what had happened) it was brilliant in a new way. He's only got a basin in his room, so I washed off, then got dressed without my bra or panties and with an old, soft, multi-coloured skirt (a bit like a gypsy thing) on, and a white t-shirt and my jacket. I liked feeling naked and cut under my clothes. I liked it even more at the pub down the road with our friends. We knew that my legs and boobs were all covered in marks, but they didn't. I liked it when he hugged me and smiled and we kissed. My friends didn't know! I did! That was almost the best thing, and almost made me come, right there, with my beer, in the pub!

So that was last Friday! We haven't tried again since (yeah, we've had sex again, natch. And the marks are still a bit there too). But we will. He says we will if I want to. So that's all good I think! My first go EVER and it went ok I think! Yeah!!!!
 

Peony

Magistrate
Sorry it's taken me so long...been a bit busy, but have dropped in on the site a few times... its amazing this crux thing - its more exciting than I thought it could be!!!!

Anyway, to last Friday. No bullwhips (yet) but I did add a few extra knots to my little 3 tailed 'whip' and took it over to the BFs. This time we started off with some nice, slow, very cuddly and kissy sex. I liked it especially when he kissed me between my legs where my skin is still a bit raw and sore. And then it was time for our play-time. I'd talked him through it and this time I went down on my knees at the bottom of the bed and he tied my hands up over my head to the post at the end. He left me waiting there for a bit, which was super-thrilling, and just watched me breathing slowly. Then he came and ruffled my hair over my ears, kissed me on the back of the neck, asked me again if I was sure and, once I'd said I was, he picked up the whip from the bed. I held my breath.

He whipped me about twenty times on my back, between my shoulder blades. He left quite long gaps and I counted. Sometimes the gap was very long and I was left looking up at him, part wanting him to hit me and part wanting him to stop. It was really quite painful, but each time I had this wonderful struggle going on in my head between not wanting to be hurt and absolutely wanting to feel the sudden burn and the sound of the whip as it hit me. Is this normal? Anyway, it felt like butterflies and was pretty wonderful!

Once he was finished he turned me round, still on my knees, but now with my back to the bed, and I sucked him off, which was sweet of him to let me, and nice for him I think!

After, I looked at my back in the mirror, and it was pretty red (and pretty I thought). When he touched me it was tender and sore. We sat around for a while and talked about what had happened. I asked him if he was ok, and he said he was getting ok with it. I said I'd read about doing it outdoors and how he'd feel about that, and tlaked about the different whips I've looked at. He hugged me and asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this and that if I really did, he was ok and we'd keep ti our secret and things like that. Then he fucked me again. Twice more. It was a really brilliant night. I want to do this more because it makes me feel better than I've ever felt, but I'm just a bit scared about getting too hurt or marked up and what people will say, because I am sure someone will notice. But maybe that might be interesting too, having to expalin to a girl-friend at the gym what all the marks on me are!

I'm not going to rush into things too crazy though and we won't do any more whipping before the end of the week. Friday seems the best night... gives me a lot to look forward to every day in the library!!!
 

Peony

Magistrate
The BF's been away for a few days on a symposium over in Leeds, so I've been on my own this last weekend. I don't mind that really - time to go to the gym with my friends and have some gossipy coffees and drinks after studies. Friday night felt a bit empty though. Watched something or other on iplayer, Bake Off, that sort of thing, and ate a pizza. Spent Saturday in the library, then around 4 decided enough was enough. Bus home, then got my bike out and cycled down to the park. It's not a town park, more of a country park I suppose, that runs by the river for a few miles. Lots of muddy tracks and clumps of woodland. The river is a dark, swirly thing, hidden between high banks to stop it flooding. SOme people use the park as a shortcut, some to walk dogs or to drink beers or just wander. But on an October late afternoon, with the sky dark and gloomy and promising rain, I guessed it wouldnt be too busy and I was right. I chained the bike by th gates and wandered along, down to the riverside. I guess I felt a bit glum, but also anticipatory. I had a plan which I wanted to try out. Nothing too daring! I found a place where a clump of trees, birches, was part-hidden by elder and overgrown blackberry bushes, and followed the little path in, pushing away the tangly branches, until I was pretty much out of sight of the main path. Then I unzipped my waterproof and unbuttoned the blouse I was wearing down to my jeans. I already liked the cool air on my titties, and I wet my fingers and played with my nipples. In the distance I could hear someone shouting for their dog and some kids playing. I was liking this!
 

Peony

Magistrate
Whoops - had to shut down quickly... in the library and a mate came by... Anyway, I pushed my boobies against the bark of the tree and let them slide across, sort of wrapping myself round, twisting, so my belly was against the tree too. In the distance I could hear a dog barking and just see its owner shouting over the tops of the brambles. I loved the excitement of being half-naked and almost public! I dragged myself back across the trunk fo the tree, letting the breaks in the bark cut at my boobs, so that when I pulled away and touched myself there were lovely red graze marks, like the ones you get if you fall off a bike into gravel. I did it some more, almost wanting to scream a bit, but biting my lip, and now there were tiny traces of blood on me. I gave the tree a big, deep hug, sort fo to say thank you, and crouched down, completely out of sight, while I pulled my top back on again and buttoned up my shirt.
The bike home was in the rain, and I was soaked but happy when I got back up to my room, although its fair to say my shirt was a bit of a mess, all bloodstained. I looked at myself in the mirror and liked what I saw. Then I showered. Gorgeous hot water stinging the cuts. And put some cream on and lay down a while.
I went out in the evening with some mates and we did cocktails. I knew what they didn't! It was my secret pleasure and inside I was smiling sooo much! I want to do it again, but with my BF and some rope and a whip! It's possible I think!
 

Peony

Magistrate
Well, I'm back, if briefly. Sorry to have been away for so long (apart from quick peeps)... lots on - had to make trips to Cambridge and London and Northampton (don't ask!). Anyway, back home, a few things have happened, and all good really. My BF has been really sweet and helpful and I love him for it! After my little experiment in the woods down by the river, he agreed to go down with me. We waited til almost dark (it's the north, it's dark early) and we knew that the kids and dog walkers wouldn't be there. And it was quite easy to slip from the view from the river path behind the little birches and brambles. Soon we found a good place and I stripped off COMPLETELY NAKED! It was pretty much a trhill just to do that out in the open, in the cold. We hugged and kissed a bit, and then, like we'd agreed, he tied me up to the trunk of one of the bigger older trees, an oak, with my arms wrapped around it and my legs apart. My wrists and ankles were tied and I loved the feel of my belly and boobs against the cold, slightly damp, very rough bark. He had the whip I'd made and I promised not to scream and so he kissed me again and stroked my hair (short, dark, a bit curly - you know that) and began to whip me. At first he was too nervious and gentle, but then he got more confident (and sure I wouldn't shout out) so he hit harder. I could hear the whip coming. That tiny moment between that sound and the sudden strike and that immediate shock and the burning pain was amazing. Anticipation and reward. I was loving it. Over my shoulder blades and across my back and (missing the dangerous bit) over my bum and my thighs. My thighs hurt the most. I think he hit me twenty or tweny tive times. And then he fucked me very gently up my ass. It was a fantastic feeling. I was trembling all over. Really shaking. I wanted to stay tied up all night and be fucked all night. Couldn't though, obviously. He untied me and I suddenly felt totally tired. He wrapped me in a towel and I wiped myself down. Tree dirt and sweat and little bloody marks on the towel.

Once I was dresed (nice light easy-fitting things and an old soft pully that I really love coz it shapes beautifully over my boobs) we packed up and left the park. Now it was really dark. I was still trembling, but excited. And my back hurt, sort of burning up. I should have gone straight back to his place to wash up, but we wnt to the pub and drank some vodka and that was so good. No-one knew about what we'd done!

We've done it again since. I'll tell you about that later. Have to go now. Thanks for all the encouragement. I love my BF for being so so so good at all this!
 

Peony

Magistrate
So I'm not at the library on this gloomy, dripping, dank day. I'm sitting at my laptop at my desk in my room. There's a birch tree battering its leafless branches against the window. It's warm and cosy here though. I've got a baggy t-shirt on, and that's it. I've got my fingers on the keyboard, but every so often.... .... I take a break and let them wander to my clit. I've found them wandering that way a lot as I drift from one page to another and one set of images to another and fantasize my way to a lovely, sweet, wet orgasm.
They've certainly opened my eyes. And in ways I hadn't imagined. I can't really still believe how excited images of sweet, pretty girls being led up onto scaffolds are. Nooses hung around necks. Eyes taking a last look at the world. I can't believe how fluttery I feel when I look at pictures of sweet, pretty girls being impaled, the long, spiked pole sliding into their cunts, the sense of horror as they feel themselves lifted and supported only through the wood that is forcing its way deeper into their guts, slowly killing them. I can't believe how my nipples harded when I look at pictures of sweet, pretty girls being tied down onto the torture rack, or being flogged, or being nailed onto their crosses.
It's an amazing thing, this fantasy thing. How we can imagine ourselves into these awful situations and how our minds can think us into loving them, adoring them, wanting them so so so much. But at the same time knowing that we really wouldn't want it at all. But at the same time maybe questioning that not wanting and sort of wishing that maybe it could be true. It's so confusing, but I love this strange confusion, I'm discovering.

Back to reality (sighs...). It's all going well on my front (and my back)... whips seem made for me and me for whips and my BF is such a darling boy and seems to like it too. I've really enjoyed him tying me tightly to my bed (or to his bed) so I'm as stretched out as I can be and then getting him to loop a thin cord around my belly (after I've taken my piercing out!) and pulling it really really tight and sliding it back and forwards so it almost cuts into me. It leaves a delicious red welt all around me, and feels as though my belly is burning up. And I adore so much getting cleaned up and putting on my jeans and a sloppy sweater without my bra and without any panties and going out with him into town and kissing him so everyone can see he loves me and so no-one can see the marks on me but so I know and he knows they are there. And then he slides his hand under my sweater and gently squeezes my nipple, then squeezes it harder and harder, and I know he's going to do it and I don't let the hurt show to anyone and I just kiss him deep in his mouth.

I'm going to stop now and look at some things and touch myself a bit more... XXX
 

Fossy

Governor
Hoping that @Peony doesn't mind, but I decided to pick up from where she left off, and write about what might happen one Friday night in her Northern pub, whilst she and the BF drank beer with their friends, no one knowing anything about the marks that were there under her sweater ... no except for me that is ...

I hope you enjoy this piece and it is left hanging for the delightful @Peony to respond to should she so desire (which i sincerely hope that she does)

A NIGHT AFTER HER FIRST WHIPPING ...


Her hair was on the short side, dark with little curls here and there … it framed her face perfectly.

“Another?” The barmaid caught my attention having spotted that my pint glass was almost empty.

“Yes, please same again,” I replied, glancing briefly at her whilst keeping my main focus on the young girl who seemed to love being the centre of attention in the small group that she was sitting with.

I had been watching her for some time and not once had she looked up at me, she was far too vivacious for that. The centre of attention, so why did she need to look away? Who was she? That thought brought a smile to my face.

I knew the answer to some of my question … a student, probably eighteen to twenty years old, it was always hard to tell exactly, but she had too much confidence to be a first year girl, was my thinking, so maybe a second-year student … nineteen then. That was the age I would give her, it seemed to fit.

So, I knew her age, I knew her occupation and … I knew what she was.

The refilled glass appeared along with the barmaid’s hand for my money. I sipped the beer through its smooth, white head and watched the girl some more.

Making some comment and laughing at her own words, along with the mirth filled responses of her small group, the girl, my girl, stretched her body upwards, and the top she wore rode upwards to expose the tell-tale marks, marks that I recognised only too well.

Like I said, I knew what she was.

Deciding that my voyeurism was bordering on the obsessive, I turned away from the small group of Friday-night-let’s-get-pissed students, so that I could give my imagination a short rest.

The pub was busy, but the guys calling in for a pint on their way home from work were beginning to fade away, and the main bar room was looking less full by the minute.

“Are you gonna keep watching me all night.”

I turned to look at the pretty face by my side. For all I had watched this girl ever since I had been in here, her approaching me was a turn of events that I hadn’t really anticipated.

She wasn’t looking at me when she spoke, nor I at her when I replied, “Would you like me to?”

“Free country, do what you like, you pervs usually do.”

I laughed at her attitude, sassy and so damn sexy.

“Perv I grant you, but not in the way you think.”

Now she chuckled and said, “Oh and what way do you perv then?” We still hadn’t looked at one another.

“Well, for a start I’m no danger to you. I’m not going to follow you, or stalk you or …”

“Rape me?” She added. Now I turned to look at her, and was taken aback at the sparkle in her eyes. I nodded and confirmed, “Correct, I certainly have no intention of raping you.”

She did not reply.

“Two pints of bitter please,” her girly voice sounded kind of wrong ordering those drinks.

“You like a man’s drink?” I grinned. She smiled but didn’t reply.

“I know what you are.” I stated somewhat out of the blue. It was a comment designed to be provocative, and to elicit a response. It worked.

“Huh?” She looked quizzically at me, “What did you say?”

“I said that I know what you are.”

Her beers arrived and she handed over the ten-pound note.

“You do huh? And what am I?”

I paused as she looked at me, her change from the ten pounds arriving. I had her attention now, which was what I was aiming for. I took my time, as well as a drink from my beer, while she waited patiently for my answer.

“Your stomach …” I then said, with a cryptic intonation.

“What?” She answered with an undertone of confused annoyance.

“… and a little higher. I can see when you sit back in your seat and stretch. The marks, red still … and your nipples are hard under the sweater, clearly no bra and I would wager no panties either. And no one knows right … not a single one of your friends knows …” I looked across at her face, directly into her eyes, as she hung on my words.

“No one … except me. Am I right?”

She swallowed hard, this pretty young student, and then said with a marked lack of eloquence, “Fuck you Mister.” Despite the obvious attitude she made no move to walk away.

“Now if I had said those words to you little girl, then maybe they would have a more literal intent underpinning them.

Once more she swallowed hard.

“I bet if I asked you to remove your sweater I would see the marks right? Red and raised, the welts from a whip.”

Her eyes widened beautifully as the nail was hammered right on the head.

“Is he your boyfriend?” I nodded my head at the laughing guy in the seat next to one currently vacated. She nodded.

“And did he …?” I raised my eyebrows to indicated what I was referring to. Again, she nodded.

“You need to get your beers back little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl,” she replied with a contradictory assertion.

“No, I can see that,” I smirked turning back to face my pint glass.

“Go fuck yourself,” she said once more purposely demonstrating a lack of eloquence.

“If you want to do what you’re doing with more skill and technique and enjoy the true pleasures that go with the pain, then in ten minutes I will be standing out at the back near to the toilet block. If you come out to me then I will give you my phone number.”

Did she gasp? I like to think so.

“Now get your beers back to the table before they go flat.”
 

Peony

Magistrate
Did I tell you? Well, I was in a bar with the BF and some other mates the other week. One down near where we live. A local, I guess you'd say. Anyway, the usual banter about work and footy and the next lecturers' strike and yIou know. A few beers, a few laughs. And I loved so much feeling myself naked under my sloppy sweater and feeling the material of my jeans against myself and knowing that I had those gorgeous red marks that only my BF knew about.
And then there was this bloke. Staring at me. I think he was. The sort of stare that turns away when you clock it. He wasn't a regular, and this wasn't really the sort of pub that businessmen go to, so probably he was just up on a visit, or something, and fancied a bit of eye-candy peeping at students after hours. Couldn't really blame him. We (well me and my mates, Clare, Mel - oh, and their BFs - we're all pretty good eye-candy I think). Anyway, he didn't really let up, and well, he was pissing me off a bit. Even more so when he started to talk to me when I was up at the bar. Fuck you I was thinking. Just fuck off. But he didn't. He said some things I didn't like, but some things that made me a bit scared too. He said he knew what I was. I was fluttering a bit. He said he knew what was under my sweater and somehow I knew he knew and he knew what it was about and he knew about that stuff. And I told him he could fuck off. But he persisted. Not really threatening, if I'm honest. More tantalising than that. This guy I didn't know from Adam and didn't care about. I think I didn't. Then he said he'd give me his number. I pulled out my tongue and went back to the table and deep kissed the BF and nuzzled up against Clare, sort of playing and kissing her ear. And I saw him go to the bogs. I knew he was waiting. I wondered what to do.
"I'll be back in a min" I said and tousled Clare's hair (long and brown, if you want to know) as I went for a piss.

And so it's midnight and I'm back in my flat on my own and my mouth tastes of beer and doner kebab and I'm knackered. And I look at my mobile and his number is there, where I saved it. I wonder what to do. I should go to bed. I touch myself up and tweak my nipples and lie back and sigh. And then I text him.

"OK. What do you suggest then? Tell me who you are and I might be interested..."

SEND

I shouldn't have, I knew immediately. I phoned the BF and told him I loved him and I wanted him to fuck me and whip me on my thighs to make me happy and he said he loved me too and loved our games and we made slurpy noises, like you do. And then the phone pinged, so I hung up on him.

I was so scared of opening his message....
 

Fossy

Governor
A NIGHT AFTER HER FIRST WHIPPING ... Part 3


I watched her return to the group and place the beer down, one pint by her place and then the other she placed into the hands of her boyfriend …

With, what I thought was a sly glance back at me she leaned in and kissed him, I mean properly kissed him, open mouths, tongues and residual saliva when they parted.

Her eyes, narrowed and she looked over before sliding up to one of the other girls and then she was nuzzling her too … was this all play for my benefit, or was that too self-centred of me to think like that?

I turned away, back to face the bar and sipped at my beer. Ten minutes, I had said … ten minutes and I would wait out by the toilet block for her …

I wanted to look back across to see where she was gazing, but I didn’t, forcing myself to continue looking away, And then, with ten minutes up from the time when she left me to sit back down, I left my half-drunk pint at the bar, indicated to the barmaid that I would be back and headed for the back door.

The pub was a long established one, a drinking man’s pub some might say, and the toilets were encased in an outhouse built in matching brick to the main building. It was a warm evening, one of those Autumn nights where, despite the onset of an earlier twilight, the air remained warm until quite late. The small courtyard in which I now stood smelt of urine.

Nonetheless, I felt a familiar excitement building up inside my stomach. It had been a while, but not so long that I forgot how this felt.

Would she come, the little girl with the erect nipples under the loose sweater and the red welts adorning her skin? I sensed she would, but it could be that my radar was not functioning as it once did, and so maybe she wouldn’t.

I leaned against the cold brick and waited. I didn’t have to wait for long.

“What?”

I turned my head and smiled at the girl’s vitriolic attitude.

“What …” I said, “What the fuck have you got to tell me.”

“You came.” I stated the obvious.

“Well yeah, so now what.”

I paused letting her sweat a little, the twitch in her finger ends as she rubbed them nervously together exposing her true demeanour, despite her confident appearance.

I let my pause turn into a smirk as I handed her a small piece of paper.

“This is my mobile number, put it in your phone, send me your number and I will text you later.”

That was all I said, and as she took the paper from me, I left her standing alone …”


******


The girl’s number pinged into my inbox later that night, with a short message of her own.

"OK. What do you suggest then? Tell me who you are and I might be interested..."

Reading her words and feeling my groin stiffen, I smiled to myself as her pretty face and firm breasts with those hard nipples flashed up into my mind’s eye. Was she really going to come to me? I suspected so, or else she wouldn’t have taken things this far.

Oh those marks, red and livid on her firm, nubile flesh …

I began typing out the message that I had promised her.

“Hello my Little Girl, it’s me, the guy from the pub. You very clearly want what I have to offer, or is it that you ‘need’ it? You ask who I am? I am the facilitator of your thrill seeking girl, the harbinger of your pain and your pleasure…”

Now I paused. The next piece of this message would be pushing the boundaries of expectation, especially for a girl so young and one would assume so relatively inexperienced. But then again, if she agreed to my instructions, then I had her and she would be mine …

I continued with my typing, feeling my stiffening becoming more profound …

“… Meet me at the Village Hotel over in Leeds, the one near to the motorways at ten am tomorrow. It is Saturday, as you of course know, and so it will not be as busy as it usually is. I will be in Costa. You will wear the tightest jeans you have and a tight tee shirt. Do not put on underwear. Make excuses before you come to anyone that will need to know, tell them that you will not be returning home until the following day, but feel free to share my mobile and my instructions with someone you trust, should need to feel secure. If you need to get a cab to the hotel then I will reimburse you, but DO NOT be late. You will reply when you read this to confirm our appointment.”

I pressed SEND and poured myself another drink while I awaited her reply.
 

Peony

Magistrate
Alone at my keyboard. Feeling so sexy. I can write about what happened. Term over, so kisses and bye-byes and see you at yours for Christmas after I've done pressies and turkey with Ma and Pa. And I'm buzzing and tingling coz before then I'm off to see a girlfriend from school who's doing Psych at Leeds I lied to him.
Packing my bag. Just a back-pack.
Booking a ticket online. Off through the rain to the station. Leaning my head on the window as the Pennines slide by, obscured by beads of dank water that drag themselves across the filthy glass. Feeling so buzzy. Feeling so sexy. Feeling my boobs tight against my t-shirt (under my pully, coz it's cold). Feeling my cunt against the material of my jeans. Tight. Like he asked.
Station, bus. Rain and wind. People rushing around. I'm there. At the hotel. Feeling sick with excitement and fear. Longing for something. Knowing I'm transgressing.
Look at my phone.
Ten.
Go into the lobby. Look around. Business people and a few folks who've been up for shopping or stuff. Umbrellas. Baggage. Looking lost I guess. I don't know what to do. Keep looking around.
And then a hand touches my back.
I turn.
Him.
His hand thrusts down my jeans. I gasp. Isn't everyone watching?
No-one's ever watching.
His nails into my cunt.
I want this.
He smiles
'Glad you came.'
Coffee? I ask him.
Don't think so, he says. Shall we go. We've things to do.
He's walking away from me and I just follow him. I'm petrified. What the fuck am I doing? I want something. He can give it me, I think. But I don't even know him. I'm a fucking twat. What am I doing?
I want to do it. I want what I think will happen.
Fucking exciting. Fucking sexy. Fucking brilliant. Fucking terrifying. Butterflying inside and feeling so hot and so pretty. I want what will come. I'm pretty sure I do. I don't know where he's taking me. I don't even know his name.
 

Fossy

Governor
AFTER HER FIRST WHIPPING ... Part 5


My stomach lurched when I saw her. The tight jeans that I had asked for were there, but the sweater over the tee shirt was not part of the instruction set, and so despite the inclement weather, such a transgression would result in a specific punishment when the time was right …

She was here … she wanted it, though I doubted very much that she knew what ‘it’ was.

I liked this hotel. It wasn’t close to where I lived, that was actually back out towards the Pennines from where she had come, hence why I found myself in the same pub as her and her friends a few days ago.

The lobby area was large and it was easy to remain anonymous in here. Gym users would hurry by as business people fought for the lounge seats. Costa never stopped doing a roaring trade and the time never seemed wrong for someone to be having a beer.

That was why, when I first spotted her a few moments ago, I was able to thrust my hand between her thighs and feel her pussy through the snug denim to fondle her soft folds, so malleable and naked under the fabric. No panties, just as I had instructed.

A gasp, a look of concern on her pretty face and then a nervous smile.

“I don’t think so,” had been my answer to her suggestion that we have coffee. Coffee for fuck’s sake … as I led her away from the lobby and back out towards the car park my smile turned into a chuckle.

I walked quickly and she struggled to keep up. The wind lashed the rain into both of us, perfect weather for making her suffering even more acute.

“Get in,” I ordered as we reached the space in which my car was parked. The Black Discovery was not a new vehicle but it was of contemporary design and large enough to be imposing, not to mention rugged enough to go where we were heading.

“Your car?” She said with an obvious mix of fear and curiosity, a heady mix if ever there was one.

“Yes, of course my car. You will sit in the passenger seat while I drive. Now get in.” My intonation became more assertive and her eyes widened.

“B … but the hotel?”

“It’s 10am the rooms are not ready yet little girl, we will be back here later to continue your … education.”

Looking directly at me, her pretty features framed by an overwhelming look of delicious trepidation, she climbed up and in.

As the doors closed with a satisfying ‘click’ I pressed the central locking mechanism to secure us both inside. Her light gasp told me that she now knew there was no way out unless I initiated it.

"Remember, you want this, so I expect you to be happy about it, grateful even."

She nodded. "I understand. And I am grateful. Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

"The truth for a start. Are you wet?" I grinned when she nodded again, red faced.

“Good, now remove your jacket and sweater, I did not say you could put such garments on.”

“But - but the weather …?”

“Take them off!”

I watched as she slid the short, rain soaked jacket from her shoulders and gripped the pullover so that she could ‘pull it over’ her head.

Watching her I swallowed hard and my groin stiffened. As she dropped the sweater into the rear footwell along with her jacket and turned back to face to face the front, my breath was momentarily taken.

Wow.

She was stunning, not just pretty but stunning. Her breasts were unfettered by any bra just as I ordered, but they were high and very pert with the firmness of nubile youth. Her nipples, hard and erect, stood out pushing against the thin cotton.

"Put your hands onto the top of your head. Elbows back. You're a beautiful girl, I want to see you push your breasts out for me.”

My little girl obeyed, pulling herself very erect. Now for the first indication of what her fate on this rain soaked day was likely to be …

“Oh fuck,” she uttered the expletive so delightfully, before biting down on her lip in an extremely cute and submissive manner when she heard the deadly metallic click of the blade from my folding knife locking into place out of her line of vision.

Enjoying the large gulp that was swallowed into her throat, I shuffled in my seat to lean in closely and whisper in her ear.

"Be a good girl, do everything I say, and I won't touch your face." I let the cold steel of the extended knife blade brush against the distended nub of her nipple and I grinned as once more she gasped quietly.

"I'll be good,” she whispered in return.

Chuckling I nodded and reached across her to pull her seat belt into place.

“You will sit like that until we get to where to where we are going. Do you understand?”

Her sassiness from our encounter in the pub was completely gone now as she nodded back at me.

Without another word I turned to face front and switched on the engine. As we pulled away into the driving rain, heading for the dense woodland at Middleton to the South of Leeds, my cock was pushing hard at the thick denim of my jeans.
 

Peony

Magistrate
The car. He said.
What - the - fuck. I thought.
I didn't even know his name.
WTF was I doing here? In some bit of Leeds I'd never been to with a guy I didn't know. And doing what he said. Pulling my sweater off, putting my hands on my head, pushing my boobs out.
He could be going to kill me. No-one would know. Off to some woods and gone.
I was trembling. Scared shitless.
Then my brain slowly clicked in.
So, he's going to kill me. Slowly. Maybe he'll whip me to pieces. Maybe he'll crucify me on a tree. Maybe he'll slice my tits off.
Maybe. And this is weird. Maybe that'll be ok. I mean. Weird! But maybe that's what I really want.
I think it isn't, but .... maybe.
But he won't. I get rational. Loads of cams everywhere. At the station. In the hotel. When I don't turn up for Christmas Ma and Pa will be onto it. They'd know I went to Leeds from the BF. They'd trace me. And his car. Unless he abandoned it. But he won't kill me I think. But maybe it would be sort of special. Feeling the knife slide into my belly.
But he will hurt me. I know that and I want that so much. But it scares me coz it will mark me up and the BF will ask and it will be a mess. But so what. I'll say I missed him and did it to myself at home. He'll want to believe me so he will.
I'm thinking so fast I have no sense of where we're going. THe rain is slopping down the windscreen. My nipples are tense against my t-shirt. My pussy is wet. I am so fucking excited. I want him to hurt me so much. I want to hurt so not well. I want to be naked and bound and hurt. I'm so fucking wet. I don't care. I want to be weherever we're going. I want it to start. And if he wants (but he won't) he can slice me up and kill me. (But he won't).
I don't even know his fucking name.
I'm so fucking scared, so fucking excited. I am whatever he wants to do to me. He can decide.
I don't even know his name.
 

Fossy

Governor
AFTER HER FIRST WHIPPING ... Part 7


I slapped her face to raise what little consciousness she still had. A grunt followed by a soft groan was the response I received. Water dripped from the hood of my waterproof onto her prostrate, soaking wet body, but it made little difference to the state of her dirty, muddy, bloody nudity. The sheen of rainwater covering her naked flesh, then running quickly away taking the droplets of blood with it, was constantly being refreshed from the clouds above, highlighting with a glistening shine the red welts marking her otherwise smooth skin.

A second grunt followed as my fingers, several of them, moved swiftly to open her pussy and reach inside. Grappling for a minute with her soft, pliable folds as she writhed a little under my touch, I circled my fingers making sure she was wet and ready to accommodate me. As I moved my thumb upwards to massage her sore, whipped little clitoris, she convulsed … and now my little girl-toy was wet for me.

“Listen to me Little Girl, you are on contraception, aren’t you?”

Her eyes were wide as she looked up at me, hair plastered to her face. Her left nipple was split initially by the cut from the knife blade, then exacerbated by the bull-whip, momentarily dripped blood before the crimson droplet was diluted into a red streak, before being totally washed away by the rain. The sight made my erection even more stiff as I reached inside my waterproof bottoms and took the burgeoning shaft of my cock into my hand.

“Answer me,” I commanded, and she nodded slowly. It was the only encouragement I needed as I pushed her legs wide apart and drove deep inside her nubile, young body with one swift thrust …

******

As we drove swiftly out of the car park to turn onto the Ring Road and towards the woods, the skies suddenly split and what had slackened off to become a slow patter of rain suddenly became a roar. It began to pour … a deluge of water falling from the sky to thunder on the roof of the Discovery and obscure the windscreen, filling the air outside so completely that I had to slow down.

I flipped the wiper control to high and stepped on the pedal again. I wanted her … I needed her … and so we had to get to where we were going fast. She turned her head and looked at me, back straight, breasts thrust forward over the binding of the seat belt, nipples even harder and her eyes were staring at me. I could see the fear-fuelled anticipation, but it was so clearly mixed with her own wants and needs, and I could tell she wasn't acting.

“Tell me about it.” I spoke as I drove.

“Huh?”

“The whip marks, the boyfriend, what he does to you. Tell me.”

She sighed with what I interpreted as nervous anticipation. “Okay.”

I waited. She paused, my Little Girl.

“I always liked the thought,” she began.

“Of what?”

“Of being tied up and beaten or whipped.”

“Why?”

“Dunno. I guess it’s just who I am. When I was younger I would masturbate as I imagined it, and then when I felt the time was right, I asked him …”

“The boyfriend you mean?”

“Yes … I asked him to tie me up and whip me with a small whip I made at home myself.”

I nodded and smiled. “And did he?”

‘Yep. He was not sure at first and wouldn’t hit me hard, but as we did it a few times, and then outside when he tied me to a tree, he started to like it … or at least I think he did.”

“Did he fuck you afterwards?”

“Yes.”

Again, I nodded, and then we spent the short remainder of the journey in silence.

I pulled the car through the gateless entrance pillars to the park and woods, and down the tarmac road to the end before moving onto the dirt track that led further into the woods themselves.

“Are … you sure … we should be …” her voice was quiet, squeaky almost, as I turned to face her and smirk in response.

I drove as far as I could, off the beaten track – even the dog walkers were not out in this weather – and then stopped the car.

Turning to her, she widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows at me, as if to say ‘what now’.

“Strip … naked …” I answered her unasked question.

And she did. First of all the tee shirt was gripped and pulled off over her head, offering me a delicious slow reveal of her hardened nipples and perfectly firm breasts.

Fuck, she was stunning, and I mean really stunning. Cock-hardening stunning.

The tee shirt joined the other clothes and I nodded at her jeans. Leaning back in the seat so she could arch her ass off the leather, I watched as she punched lose the buttons and wiggled her hips so that, despite her delicate grip, she could ease the denim away from her body and down over her slender thighs, before pulling them off.

And then, in the absence of panties, she was beautifully naked … this young student that I had bumped into by chance only a couple of days earlier. And, smiling as her arms wrapped around her body so as to cover her exposed nudity, my cock ached … I was so damn hard.

I saw her eyes flicker down and glance at my groin, an action, which if anything, fuelled my erection even more.

Reaching out to her, and ignoring her gasp, I touched the very faded welts that had more clearly adorned her stomach and breasts not so long ago. She flinched but I suspect that was more to do with the chill from my touch rather than any residual pain.

“Get out.” The comment was simple and unambiguous.

“Huh, what now … like this?”

I offered no further affirmation other than to repeat the command.

“Get out … NOW!”

With a nod and a blink … was that a tear forming, oh how I hoped it was … she clicked the handle on the now unlocked door and stepped out. I could feel the cold air and the droplets of rain through the open door, and she was immediately soaked.

Closing the door on her I smiled as I watched her nervously looking around, arms still encircling her glistening, naked body.

The rain was dripping from her hair, her lips were turning blue as the water dripped from her face to run over her breasts and drip like milk from her nipples.

I reached into the bag on the back seat and pulled out water proof coveralls … after all there was no point in me getting wet as well.

“Good girl,” I remarked as I stepped from the car into the continuing rainfall.

“How does that feel,” I asked provocatively, seeing her shiver.

“F … fucking cold …” she replied. Her submissive demeanour only served to inflame my desire, which was almost at boiling point.

I let my gaze drift down to the spot between her thighs. “No hair, you shave … I like that,” I stated. With an additional tremble of her lip, she nodded.

I moved to stand under a large tree thereby minimizing the rain that fell on me. My Little Girl, however, was ordered to stay out in the open. The rain fell soaking her bare skin and shining her nipples. I knew that now because I ordered her to stand with her hands on her head exposing herself once more both to the elements and my gaze. Her hair was soon plastered to her face and her back, chest and legs, in fact her whole body, glistened in the rain. Water dripped off her nose, her chin and ran in rivulets down her thighs.

I reached into my pocket to retrieve the knife. It wasn't the most intimidating weapon at my disposal, but I thought the metallic hiss while opening the blade would once again help to make my point. Her eyes followed the trajectory as I exposed the blade. She flinched delightfully when it clicked into place.

Moving towards her I buried my free hand into her hair and fisted it tight to hold her still. She yelped.

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t want you moving unexpectedly.”

I brought the knife down flat to rest against the hollow beneath her jaw. I could feel the hilt pulsing against my palm onto her erratic pulse.

"Have you ever been hunting?" I asked. "There's an art to field dressing a kill. The first step is exsanguination." I pulled the knife across her neck as I'd been speaking, indicating how I could so easily make her life’s blood flow. Her skin was so blemish-less that even in the rain the blunt edge of the knife made a mark onto her delicate skin.

The way her eyes widened, the fear in them obvious, was a delight, and then her whole body stilled save for the unstoppable trembling … it was so rewarding to say the least. And, as I let the blade drift down to her breasts, her breathing stopped.

“Now girl, you will do exactly as I say, do you understand?” There was no reply and so I slid the blade to her left nipple and pressed while pulling it back towards me. The darkened aureole flesh opened up, not greatly, but enough to draw a flow of blood and illicit a loud scream that was all but lost in the wind and rain. She sank to her knees despite my grip on her hair remaining in place …

“Now you understand, right?” The question was rhetorical. It required no answer and received none.

Dragging her back up using my painful grip, I let her go for a fleeting moment while I took several pieces of rope from my bag, which was now sitting under the cover of a large tree.

Shaking her head wildly my Little Girl seemed to be having a change of heart.

Too late girl!

The futility of her action became clear as I grabbed her wrist and pulled her over to a large tree.

"This should do" I spoke with sufficient volume for her to hear. I held her wrists in place easily as I fastened the rope quickly around them. I smiled as she winced when the knots constricted around her wrists, and her groan as I threw the long end of the rope over a large protruding branch was extremely satisfying!

I pulled the rope tight and when my poor, hapless victim was left standing stretched on the tips of her toes, arms high above her head, I tied it off to a nearby smaller tree trunk.

If anything, the rain was falling harder now, and to say my Little Girl was soaked through to her bones was a huge understatement.

She gulped as I spent a few moments drinking in the way she looked. I analysed every contour of her body from her dark, short, straggled rain-soaked hair down to the smooth skin of her shoulders. Then, continuing lower, over fully exposed bare, bleeding breasts and along the full length of her naked legs.

I moved closer to her, and for a long time I kept looking deep into her dark eyes... sensing their depths. Depths I intended to descend into....

Looking around making sure that we were still alone (and of course we were) I leaned in and carefully placed a little kiss on her soft wet lips. She was trembling so wonderfully. Her scent ... her sexual aroma was apparent even in all of this rain. Carefully my lips slid across her throat, and from there, teasingly slowly, I tasted the warm, pulsing flesh of her armpit, before very slowly licking the fresh blood emanating from her cut nipple.

“Now it is time,” I said as menacingly as I could, and moved back to the bag. Her face as I pulled out a long, leather, single lash bull-whip was a picture. Her eyes widened even more as I took up a position in front of her.

I needed only a solitary practice lash before I cut the leather hard through the rain-soddened air.

"SWISH...!" the lash descended quickly and exploded like thunder across her bare breasts, leaving a single red, angry welt from marking from one side to the other. The sound made by the covering of rain water on her body, not to mention the heightened pain it would cause, was exquisite!

"BASTAAAAARDDDDDD!!" she cried out delightfully, as my Little Girl was unable to avoid shouting out the expletive in response to the fire that now danced across her body.

Again, the thick length of leather crashed down onto her flesh, expertly leaving a second, long red welt across her taught, naked stomach. Once more her whole body exploded, causing the rain water from her skin to splash high into the air.

"One more Little Girl!" I shouted, and a third stripe hit her swiftly yet again across her soaking wet breasts, criss-crossing the first lash mark and opening the cut on her left nipple. Blood oozed out only to be washed immediately away as she sobbed hard. A fourth followed and my poor girl writhed and squirmed delightfully.

I needed to pause and renew my breath after four mighty lashes. My erection was bursting to get out. I moved closer to her.

"Tell me how you feel," I smiled. She was silent.

I moved in front of her.

"SLAP!"

She cried out, feeling the sting of my open palm across her wet cheek.

"Tell me," I ordered. She looked up from under her ragged fringe and tear-filled eyes.

"I … I… it … hurts so much," she whimpered.

"Good!" I replied, returning to my position.

"Fuck no ..." She cried out, her eyes like saucers. Only it was too late, as the thick, leather lash raged down onto her bare mound and, despite her wriggling, the tip caught directly onto her clit.

As her knees crumpled her thighs parted and I cut the leather up and into her open cunt.

She cried out, the loudest yet, and flopped in her bonds, the ropes the only thing holding her upright.

Smiling I dropped the whip back into the bag and moved to release her wrists … she fell in a heap onto the wet ground.

As she lay on her back, hardly moving, in the torrential rain, I looked down upon her naked, beaten body. My erection ached, and so now it was time to take her …
 

Peony

Magistrate
I'm lying there. On my back. Staring up at bare branches. Mud spattered over my naked body.
WTF!
What am I doing here?
I hurt like fuck.
My cunt's on fire. He whipped me there, I know that. And then...
I didn't mind. I knew it was part of the deal. His fingers, his hand, his cock.
I hurt so fucking much . I'm shivering. I'm soaked. I'm freezing.
He didn't kill me. I knew he wouldn't. I guess I'm sort of disappointed. A bit.
He did hurt me.
Out in the rain woods. Naked. Hanging so my toes scrape a hollow in the mud.
My nipple crying from the knife that he split it open with.
Blood washing off me in the rain.
And the whip.
Sweet delicious agony.
Hate it. Want it. Again I hope. I don't want it to stop.
I'm in a special place. Stop. Don't stop.
And he fucks me. Of course he does. He's enjjoying it, but I think I'm enjoying it more, but he doesn't even know...
 

Fossy

Governor
AFTER HER FIRST WHIPPING ... Part 9

The look on her face was one of need, perhaps of want too. The cry from my throat as I thrust deep into her body was feral. A wild animal conquering its prey, marking its territory, taking what it wants. And I wanted her, my Little Girl, beaten, battered and bloody underneath me, oh how I wanted her!

Her eyes bulged as I squeezed the life from her throat, my grip getting tighter with each shot of thick, white seed that entered her body … until I had no more and I released my hold allowing her to sink into a welcome oblivion.

With my softening cock back inside the waterproofs, I picked her up and carried her lifeless form in my arms back to the car. A large towel was spread out on the rear seat ready to lay her down upon. Having positioned her, I started up the car engine and put the heating on full blast. In a few seconds warm air was circulating throughout the vehicle’s interior, drying her naked skin and her hair, reviving her, bringing her round.

I was still dripping from my waterproofs but I wasn’t ready to remove them … not yet.

“Wh … what …” her words were quiet, almost a whisper and her throat sounded hoarse.

“Shhhh little girl, save your strength …” I leaned over from my position next to her on the wide seat and moved my lips to hers. A sensual sound, almost a moan, greeted me as I tenderly kissed her mouth. Her eyes finally open, to see me looming, looking down at her, and with a smile, she looked at me with sleepy, glassy eyes, an imperceptibly confused look on her face, half understanding but not yet comprehending.

I put a drinking bottle to her lips. Water infused with an energy supplement. She would need that, she already did.

Patches of mud coated her body as I began to wipe at them with the towel, drying her, cleaning her. I brushed against her pussy. Freeing my hand from the towel I took her fingers in mine and placed her hand between her thighs.

“Touch yourself for me Little Girl, give yourself pleasure while I provide more pain.”

A gasp signalled her understanding of my command and her small, delicate fingers began to move slowly over the nub of her clit, massaging, circling, engorging.

I grinned as I dipped into my bag, which was now positioned on the front passenger seat and took out a razor-sharp pin wheel.

Returning my attention to this little naked beauty in the back of my car, I saw that her eyes were closed once more and she was beginning to squirm under the expert touch of her own ministrations.

Moving the pin wheel to her chest she winced, and then gasped once more as I ran the sharp pin edges over her welted skin. When I reached her split nipple I paused before moved the pin wheel blade teeth into the cut, riding over the exposed nerve ends and the reddened folds, opening them more, heightening the pain and causing more blood to flow, only this time, without the rainfall to wash it away, it ran in a small rivulet over her swollen breast.

“Owwwww, ohhh fuckkkkkk … stopppppp!” She arched up at the touch of the sharp teeth to her cut. I slapped her face.

“Shut the fuck up Little Girl, you will take everything I have to give you … and you WILL be grateful.”

As punishment for her outburst I ran the pinwheel deeper into her nipple and she gritted her teeth in a stoic attempt to bear the agony.

“Keep masturbating girl, and tell me when you’re ready to orgasm, because if you dare cum then I WILL kill you!”

Her breathing became more ragged as her climax approached and I moved the pin wheel over her stomach and abdomen, down to her thighs. She bore it all with no more outbursts, and then …

“I’m gonna, oh fuck … oh yes, I’m so gonna …” I laughed and slapped her hand away form her clit, causing her to emit a bereft cry as her heightened lust was left hanging.

Once more reaching into my bag I brought out a small egg vibrator and a roll of duct tape. My Little Girl grunted as I open her wet folds up once more to push the vibe deep inside her cunt, before using several strips of the duct tape over her slit to seal it in.

“Whatever you do girl, do not now want to piss!” I laughed, before adding, “Now tell me how this feels.”

I flicked the on switch of the remote control and the egg inside her burst into life. Her eyes opened wide with desire-fuelled sensation, her cunt immediately re-stimulated.

“Nghhhhh …” She groaned delightfully moving her hands to cup between her thighs. I turned up the speed and she arched up, her whole back leaving the seat.

Staring down as she writhed and squirmed, I allowed her to continue until she was on the cusp of climax once more, and then I switched it off.

“Ohhhh nooooooooo!” Another bereft cry came plaintively form her throat.

“Turn onto your stomach Little Girl, I want to cut open your back with my knife before taking you outside again to flay the skin from your body …”

This was far from over …
 

Peony

Magistrate
Well, she says, breaking the wall again, this is turning interesting! She's rather taken by the notion of having her flesh flayed from her living body, but... wonders... perhaps... if this man (she doesn't know his name) is talking in boastful jest. Why spoil a little girl all in one go, when there are so many courses to be had? After all, he knows she is in her own way enjoying her day out in Leeds, and that, if he's good to her (in the way she calls good) and he looks after her well, she's sure to be back for seconds after she's been home for Christmas. She doesn't want it to stop quite yet though. She found the spikes rolling over her torn nipple quite something special, and that egg! Well, that egg was a delight. And stopping just before climax came! Cruel, but so, so, so wonderful! Anticipated pleasure is as wonderful as pleasure delivered! But anyway, still a little while to go before it's time to take her back to the hotel she thinks... She can explain all those marks quite easily, she thinks. She's hoping for a few more before it's all done for today... After all, at Christmas you hope your wishes come true!
 

Peony

Magistrate
He's fucking choking me and I fucking love it.
He's no idea how hot it makes me feel. Fucking me and choking me. My cunt is on fire. I love it. I don't want it to stop.
I do want it to stop. Of course I do. Or a part of me wants it to stop and the rest of me wants him to squeeze tighter.
But he stops.
And he's kind. He gives me water. I slurp.
And then he hurts me some more with his pin wheel. Cutting my cuts. It hurts like hell. I love it. I want more.
And then he stops.
Bastard.
And then he pushes something deep in me that sets my whole body trembling. Soooo intense! Soooo good!
And then he stops.
Bastard.
FUcking tease.
Hurt me! I want him to hurt me! Hurt me and not well! Hurt me some more!
Bastard.
He says he's going to cut me. To skin me. I hope he does, but I think he's lying. I want hium to cut me deep. I want to bleed.
He won't flay me. He's scared. I;m not. I want to hurt. I want to hurt. I want to bleed.
 

Fossy

Governor
AFTER HER FIRST WHIPPING ... Part 11


Her brow furrowed and she swallowed back a choke as my words struck home. I nodded slowly as if to re affirm my intent, and her choke became a quiet sob.

With a malicious grin I switched the egg back on and boy did she know it.

“Nghhhhhh, ohhhh fuckkkkkk …” her hands once more flew to her pussy where the duct tape shielded the soft, pliable, sensitive folds from the outside world, trapping the vibe safely inside to plough its penetrative furrow.

“Pl … pl … please,” she pleaded. Her merciful begging was far more intense as a result of the vibrations deep inside her body as opposed to the pain I was inflicting upon her.

“Pl … please what?” I responded, mocking her.

“Pl … please let me cum,” her eyes were almost closed, tears poured out of each corner and her body shook.

I laughed and switched the evil little device off.

“Noooooo!” my Little Girl cried out, and I laughed even louder.

Then I heard a sound. A male voice and a dog barking. I looked down at the pretty face staring back up at me.

“We have company it would seem, even on a desperate day like today.”

She said nothing in reply.

“I will get out of the car but the window here will be down a few inches. I am serious when I say that if you want this to stop just shout out through the gap. Demand that he helps you …”

She looked confused as I opened the car door. It was a risk that I was taking, but a calculated one.

“Morning,” I offered up my pleasantry.

“Awful one isn’t it?” the dog-walker replied as the rain battered us both, “I haven’t seen another soul out here in this, but I have to walk him now because it’s the only chance I will have today.”

I nodded my understanding, then offered up my own reason for being here. “I’m on a mission to collect wild holly for friends and family … you know the Christmas Season and everything …” where the fuck did that come from, I smiled inwardly to myself, “and once I had promised to do that today, then I couldn’t not come.”

I glanced at the partly open window. Not a sound, just as I expected.

“Have a great Festive Season,” he waved at me as I watched the man and his dog disappear into the density of the woodland surrounding us.

I smiled to myself, as I opened the car door again to see the glorious sight that awaited me.

“Good girl, you clearly want more. Am I right?”

With an apparent reluctance at being forced to admit her own perverted desire, she nodded and I climbed back in closing both the window and door behind me.

“Turn over,” I reminded her of my instruction. With a fresh gulp briefly constricting her throat she pushed herself up and flipped her body, gasping with a wince as the red welts and cut came into direct contact with the towel.

“Good girl,” I said straddling her naked shape, the seat wide enough to let my left leg kneel by her hip whilst my right foot balanced in the footwell.

Fuck she was gorgeous. Nubile … young … fit and oh so firm. I felt a new stirring in my groin.

“Please don’t …”

I laughed out loud once more. “Don’t what girl?”

She did not reply.

Taking the blade I again made a point of letting the razor sharp edge flick free, the metal clicking into place. Now that she knew I was actually prepared to cut her, my Little Girl emitted a quiet whimper.

My erection burgeoned once more, beginning to push against the denim of my jeans and the smoother, shiny fabric of the waterproofs.

Pressing the blade upon her lower shoulder, just above her shoulder blade on the right-hand side. I stilled my hand letting the cold steel play upon her flesh and resonate in her imagination.

Another delightful whimper.

I pressed harder and opened her skin in a cut length of maybe four inches. Not deeply but enough to send a new wave of shock through her gloriously exquisite form.

“Oh fuck, please …” Her pleas were music to my ears.

“Shut the fuck up Little Girl,” was my only response as I drew upon the smooth canvas of her body, slowly dragging thick strokes of freshly revealed blood, down and around, following the slender length of her spine to the top of her firm, peachy ass. The stark contrast of crimson on pale flesh was beautiful …

I pressed my finger gently against the cut on her shoulder, her upper back really, just enough for a drop of blood to ooze onto my finger and run down over it, breaking the obvious tension that has built up in inside her as she let out a low sound of hungering lust. The droplet ran down over her shoulder blade, leaving a rivulet in such a pretty shade of passionate red, the thick, sticky blood spilling out and joining the rest of the spiral pattern I had daubed upon her flesh.

I went through the motion again, but lower this time, slowly drawing the blade across both of her buttocks. From one side to the other, a red line following my path broken only by the crevice of her small rose like hole, at the cavernous shadowy parting of the cheeks. A steady motion … I was unwilling to rush and give it fully to her until I saw the more bestial parts of her mind coming to the fore.

Then, as realisation dawned, my Little Girl screamed and lifted her head, which I immediately slapped hard so that she lay back down with a loud sob.

This time, when I cut her, I took a droplet on my finger and reached over to her face, which was turned sideways from the towel. I gave her that tiny drop and a primal sound left her throat as she opened her mouth wide and sucked my finger in before displaying her red stained tongue for me to see …

Back to my task. Another flick of my wrist and a new red line appeared across the middle of her back.

More groans … her body trembling now … but no dissent could be heard, not one word.

As I coated my fingers thoroughly in the latest stringy line of red, I knew that this little vignette of play, me fingering my Little Girl’s pretty mouth, sating her hunger with the welcomed violation of my fingers slick in her own blood was heightening her warped sense of desire.

With my erection now pressing painfully against the waterproofs and my jeans, her back and ass coated in red from the few shallow cuts that now adorned her nubile frame staring up at me, I already knew what that next step had to be.

“Get out, back into the rain,” I said very clearly, assertively and without any ambiguity.
 
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