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Whipping Stories (Sympazero)

Go to CruxDreams.com
Overnight

If you want to see what happens,
you’ll have to stay and participate.

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Which means?
As it sounds. You’ll be... used... by some members.
How many?
At least four. Plus me, makes five...
I can handle five.
Multiplied by the orifices in your body makes fifteen.
Oh.
Then you’ll be whipped.
Whipped? How hard?
Hard enough to knock you out.
I think I want to go home.
Sorry, too late, the last limo has gone. Let’s go.
Where?
Upstairs. They’re waiting.
================​
 
Surprises...

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"What are his preferences?"
"He likes extra-rough anal..."
"I was afraid of that. What else?"
"It’s worth it kid, there’s a huge order at stake."
"Sure, sure, what else?"
"He wants to hang you up naked..."
"Now there's a surprise! Crop or belt?"
"...and use a heavy bullwhip on you."
"Charming! For how long?"
"A half-hour tops, or until you black out."
"Can you guarantee that?"
"I can do my best!"
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Later, Perhaps...
He will see her later this evening, afterwards;
her appearance will be a little changed.

He admits he can accept the brutal whip-marks visited
on her perfect body, but cannot witness how they got there.
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His daughter knows what torment faces her;
well, most of it.

Her suffering tonight is her gift of love to him.

It starts with the ceremonial delivery of the nude virgin
to Anne-Marie and her staff to begin the Roissy ritual.

He hasn't decided if he'll
take part in the multi-viols.

Later, perhaps, but using a blindfold!
Call him sentimental.

He met her mother here,
eighteen years ago tonight.
======================​
 
How much is too much?

I dunno, two-three hundred strokes,
and she's not even breathing hard!
I think this one's a keeper, boss.
Sure, price her high to the big money pervs,
but save her for that special rainy day...
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I don't know where her limit is, but I'd love
to spend a long weekend finding out...
================​
 
Take two - Colour version


“AT THE CLUB”
by Sympazero
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==================​
She: This would clear his debts?
He: Yes. All of them I believe. Plus they’ll let him keep his membership, on probation for a year. Overly generous if you ask me…
She: Maybe not, considering what they’re getting in return...
He: Of course, you’re right. Sorry, stupid of me.
She:…Wouldn’t he ask you for a loan?
He: He knows I’d refuse. He thinks he’ll inherit it all after I’m dead. My one regret is not seeing the look on his face when the lawyers tell him I’ve left everything to you.
She: He’ll contest it.
He: Of course he will. Don’t worry, I had it drawn up by a Washington law firm, witnessed by two psychiatric professionals and a Supreme Court judge. It’s incontestable.
She: Are you sure about this, my darling?
He: I was never more sure of anything.
She: How long…?
He: The cancer? It’s pretty much everywhere. The docs give me three months, more or less.
She: I am sorry, Pops, really I am. I'll miss you. You're my only friend!
He: And you mine, my dear.

(They embrace.)
​
She: Can I make a suggestion? Can we dine together tonight?
He: Absolutely, I’d be delighted. And honored.
She: Then I’d like to sleep in your bed.
He: Ah… I would be doubly honored, but you know, I don’t do anything…
She: I understand… I just want to sleep naked in your arms.
He: I’ll make a reservation, pick you up at eight?
She: Perfect. D’you know whose idea was this…circus? His, or some drinking buddy?
He: His, of course. Apparently he’s been boasting for years about the number of times he’s whipped you senseless. He offered the Board of Regents a show to balance his books…
She: …With me as the main attraction?
He: Hideous way to put it, but yes, I suppose.
She: He’s whipped me exactly twice. The first time was on our honeymoon, he drugged me with something. I woke up naked with my body raw, striped from throat to ankles, the skin of my breasts burst open in twenty places; the sheets were saturated in my blood. The hotel was very discreet and understanding, they got me into a private hospital in the Cap d’Entibes. I left four weeks later with a hundred stitches in me but it only took him two months to find me. He begged for forgiveness, begged me to take him back, and like a fool, I did. The second time, last year, I woke up in Boston General. I never found out what whip he used on me… the wounds were… quite bad. The new welts all but covered the old. I was there for three months.
He: What did the police say?
She: Nothing. No proof it was him. Plus he drummed up some buddies to provide an alibi.
He: You don’t have to do this, you know…
She: I know, I know. But I need to write ‘finis’. It’s the only way he’ll give me the divorce. “One full-body whipping in exchange for one decree nisi and one decree absolute.”
He: You do understand what a nude full-body whipping means, don’t you?

(She shrugs)
​
He: It means if you consent to accepting his punishment, you can be beaten anywhere from your neck down to your knees, front or back, shoulders to….
She: …To breasts, I know, I know… Under the lash of a professional, my breasts could be shredded! You forget, Pops, he’s already done it to me! Twice! Change the topic. The instrument, that’s traditional, I hear?
He: Yes, an oiled single-tail eight-foot horse-whip. It’s over a hundred years old. It’s locked in the President’s safe when not it use. Many famous men have felt its sting…
She: But no women…?

(He doesn’t answer. She shivers)
​
She: So there’s no chance they’ll…?
He: …No, there’s no chance they’ll change it.
She: And if I'm a no-show?
He: They’ll hold you in breach of contract.
She: What's the worst that could happen?
He: The Judge could sentence you to take him back under your roof.
She: Good god, is it worth it? How many strokes?

(He doesn't answer.)
​
She: How many, Pops? Say it fast, how many strokes?
He: A hundred, (she gasps) or until you black out and the doctor calls a halt.
She: This depends if he signs it, that is. He won’t play games after it’s over, will he?
He: Not a chance, There’d be at least 25 members of the Board of Regents present. No, he’ll sign the divorce papers, he’s too vain not to… He knows any shenanigans he’s out on his ear for good. The swine! I’m embarrassed I fathered him. At least his mother avoided seeing what he turned into.
She: Twenty-five members? Hmm… that many? I wonder if I’ll get stage fright. I’m to be completely nude, correct? Barefoot? Not a stitch?
He: Barefoot, yes, and completely nude except for the leather wrist and ankle straps... which really only have one purpose, let’s face it…
She: The better to suspend me for the whip. Will they demand to whip me spread-eagled, do you think?
He: I can’t say. If it’s in the fine print, he has the right… And there’s that other clause which doesn’t bode well…
She: Ah, yes, his demand that my pudendum must be clean-shaven. Almost telegraphing it, no? Leaving me in anticipatory terror. Of course he plans to beat me ‘down there’ as brutally and as savagely as he can! Why else shave me?
He: I wish I could answer that, but… It doesn’t look good.
She: You know I’d call him a perverted weasel, except I’d be insulting weasels. I’m glad we insisted on the mask.
He: Umm, actually there’re more than twenty-five, many more… That’s just the Board Members – the total audience will be closer to a hundred members.
She: Ohh... I had no idea, I definitely will get stage fright. Say again, when is it?
He: Two weeks from tonight, six o'clock in the club main hall.
She: How about gate-crashers?
He: No admittance without a ticket, when the clock strikes six, the doors are locked. Any member not in his seat will…
She: …will miss the fun?
He: You’re putting rather a good face on the whole affair, love…?
She: Gallows humour? I’m curious… any women allowed?
He: No. The only women present will be in the infirmary. Two nurses, and one doctor, extra plasma and all that. I’ve insisted. Though I hope a blood transfusion won’t be necessary.
She: Umm… There’s one hiccup… The first time he whipped me…
He: The time he drugged you…?
She: …Yes, I found out the hard way I have extremely thin skin so I bleed rather quickly, almost hemophiliac level. I lost almost a quart. Make no mistake, “there will be blood”. Listen, my love, I’ve been thinking…this is going to seem strange… If I do this, I would want you to do it.
He: Sorry, do what?
She: I want you to whip me.
He: That’s not possible. The contract’s done, just waiting for your and his signatures.
She: But there's a loophole, so big a loophole no one noticed! You and he have the same name! I could sign mine, and then you could sign his? I spoke with my lawyer, it's perfectly legal.
He: Oh, I see where you’re going, the ultimate revenge – I get to whip you and he only gets to stand and watch.
She: You wield the bullwhip and he’s not allowed to touch me. The worst agony imaginable for him…
He: I see, but I wouldn’t really whip you, we’d just go through the motions?
She: No! It has to be genuine! You have to do it for real! The harder you strike, the more it hurts him. I want this to be the ultimate punishment for him; you whipping me head to toe, me dripping blood until I collapse. Swear to me when the time comes you’ll thrash me with all your strength.
He: Such as it is… All right, I swear.
She: He’ll put up a fight, you know!
He: No doubt, but I still have some clout at the Club. I’ll have half-a-dozen bully boys from the rugby alumni on standby, to sit on him if necessary!
She: With that in mind, tonight after dinner I should like us to practice.
He: I’m not following. Practice what?
She: I’ve brought some equipment… In my trunk… whips, ropes, etc. I want you to undress me then hang me by my wrists from your chandelier and beat me until I black out.
He: Are you serious? You want me to string you up… naked…?
She: Naked.
He: … and whip you senseless?
She: Yes.
He: You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?
She: I’ll have a surgeon friend on stand-by a block away in case a transfusion’s called for?
He: Then are we to take it it's a go?
She: Let's sign the contracts before I change my mind.

(He buzzed his intercom, two secretaries entered,
witnessed their signatures, and exited...)
​
He: D’you really think we can go through with this? I’m not sure I can. It’s not the illness, I’m still quite strong, it’s that I love you too much…
She: And I you. Will you try? For me?

(Her father-in-law frowns.)
​
She: Pops, there’s no one in the world I would rather whip me bloody…
He: Very well. Until eight.
She: One last thing…
He: Yes?
She: When the time comes, I’d like you to shave me. Right there in front of them all, our final humiliation of your poisonously rotten son. Agreed?
He: Agreed.

The End
======================
Sympazero​
 
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"Father Knows Best..."
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A repost
by Sympazero
​
The first time your father whipped me was on our wedding night. He was hopelessly drunk but insanely brutal – I found out later he used a studded flogger on my breasts – I lost consciousness and didn’t surface till the morning.
He had his best man, a fellow doctor, standing by with units of blood in case I needed a transfusion… I did.

Twenty years later I still carry the original whip-scars on my nipples – they almost match the latest ones. Since then hardly a month goes by without some demand for whipping. Christmas and my birthday are the worst.

Surely he didn’t whip you when you were carrying me?

Actually, sad to report, he was especially savage then – he bull-whipped my breasts almost every night of my pregnancy.

Not your belly!

No, he spared you in my belly, but nowhere else. He shredded my back down to my backside, caned my thighs till they poured blood, but my breasts took the worst! After you were born, I couldn’t produce milk – we had to hire a wet-nurse.

God, how awful. Am I the first person you’ve told?

Yes, and the last.

What if I talked to him?

He’ll deny it. Anyhow, it’s too late for me. He says if he stopped, I’d miss it.
He’s probably right. A few years ago when he fell ill--

--Yes, I remember he was in hospital…

…Hmm, the first time in my married life I wasn’t beaten regularly. For weeks I was in agony - the lack of breast-whippings hurt worse than when he used the thick bamboo cane on them.

He says he’ll whip me on my deathbed, and I’ll thank him… He’s probably right about that too. Not to alarm you, but lately I’ve seen him deep in conversation with your fiancé Richard. I think you should prepare yourself to be beaten by him. Your wedding night could be bad, you should be ready.

But I love Richard. I shouldn’t mind being whipped a little.

Ah! Therein lies the problem. The more you love them, the harsher the whippings.

Will it hurt?

Listen to yourself; you’ve already accepted the whip as inevitable!

Does it? Hurt?

Yes, it hurts? It will be agony until you start getting used to it. But pray, and I speak from experience, pray you don’t get so used to it you begin to crave it. Men sense it when women need whipping, when they need to be whipped in extremis… Then the beatings become excruciating.

But when…? Where?

Where does your father whip me? Usually in the wine cellar when you and the servants are asleep. It’s almost soundproof. While you were away at college he didn’t bother with discretion – he just threw a rope over the dining room chandelier and hung me up by the wrists and beat me for an hour or so. Those are the bad nights. The worst part of it is when he finally lets me down, I have to clean up the puddles of my own blood.

Blood? I don’t unders—he whips you naked?

What do you think? Of course naked!

Omigod, when does he do this?

Actually he’s overdue…any day now. Ask him if you can watch the next session.
In fact you could ask to take part – I think I can probably predict his answer!

The End
=========
Sympazero



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