#whipping
The Merry Whump of May 1: Extra
Whip| Tears|The Chair
(this did not end up fitting the title but it does fit the Whip prompt so. sharing this one too)
@themerrywhumpofmayWhite-knuckled fingers grip the chain connecting the cuffs to the wall. With each lash the warlock’s head knocks against his wrists. With each lash a sharp, breathy sound is forced from his throat.
Ari knows the rhythm he is living. Crack-sharp for an instant. The sting that builds and builds to eclipse the initial flash. Crack-sharp again somewhere else, and a fresh sting to build as the previous starts to ebb.
Her own pain is a different rhythm, set to the same tempo. It burns as she pulls her arm back, and burns as she brings the whip down. Two alternating peaks. And growing worse, slowly but surely, as every stroke irritates her stripes a little further.
She can imagine the skin – red and angry, swelling around the cuts. Again. She can’t tell how much of the spreading warmth is that, and how much is blood seeping into her clothes.
The whip lands across the crimson lines she has already cut. The prisoner makes a louder, sharper sound. Blood flicks across the room. A second sound, the first note of a moan before he stifles it. His jaw is locked so tight he could break a tooth. There are tears on his face.
Ari’s skin burns under her clothes.
Break, she wills him. Beg me. Promise me something.
If he does, she might be allowed to stop.
Dani did not answer, and Etienne continued, “Probably not since you were hooded. But I brought you by there table and we spoke about you. I invited them to watch you being punished. I hope that is alright.” He paused, then, “Oh! And Zoe. Zoe will administer the flogging. But first she will caress, kiss, and tongue you. Not enough to allow you to come, of course, but enough to make you ache for that release. Todd told me that he thought you might reach orgasm from being flogged. We’ll see f that is true.” Then turning to Ari and Margareta, he continued, “I’m sure you would be interested in knowing that.”
When Ari spoke, Dani immediately recognized his voice from the night before in the bar. “Yes. I often had Doutzen flogged on her cunt, but I don’t think she was ever able to come from it.”
“Well, we’ll see if Dani can,” said Etienne. Then, “Zoe, please begin to kiss Dani.”
Zoe kissed Dani on the mouth, softly at first, then deeper. So deeply that Dani had to gasp for breath. Then Zoe’s lips moved to Dani’s breasts, gently sucking and biting at her already erect nipples. Dani couldn’t suppress a soft moan. She heard the man called Ari’s voice say, “Margareta, would you too like to kiss and caress her? Go ahead. Etienne won’t mind.” As Zoe continued to attend to Dani’s breasts with her mouth, her hand slid down Dani’s belly to her waiting, open sex. Dani felt fingers on her clitoris, already emerging from its protective sheath. She moaned again as the woman called Margareta kissed her softly on the lips.
Dani’s hips began to roll involuntarily. She moaned again. She was very close when she heard Etienne say, “That’s enough. Step back, Zoe.” He came to Dani’s face and said, “Dani, tell these people what comes next.”
Dani too a deep breath and said, “I’m to be flogged.”
“How and where?” asked Etienne. Dani didn’t answer. Etienne said, “Tell us how you are to be flogged. Say, ‘I’m to be flogged on my pussy,’ then tell u show that will make you feel. Say it now.”
Dani finally said, “I am to be flogged on my pussy to remind me that I am a slave. Nothing more than a slave.”
As Dani said this, Zoe stood astride her. Dani could see the tassels of the whip between Zoe’s legs. She heard Etienne say, “Begin now, Zoe.”
She was aroused. Her nipples were stiff and hard, and not just from the cool morning air of the dungeon. She was wet and knew it. “Dear God! I’m probably dripping,” she thought to herself. “Why am I like this? The thought of humiliation, pain and torture turns me on, especially if it is prolonged and harsh. I guess Todd was right when he told Etienne that I was a regular pain slut.” Dani tried to move a bit to ease the strain on her shoulders. Instead, a sharp pain shot down her arm. She winced. “But it’s not just any pain that turned me on. It has to be sexually oriented and be humiliating. I know that later this morning, I will be taken to what they call the whipping room. I’ll be led there on this leash attached to my pierced sex. It’ll be humiliating for me, but also arousing. Then I’ll be tied down with my legs raised and spread for everyone to see. And then I’ll be beaten. Whipped between my widespread thighs. Whipped on my sex. It’ll hurt terribly, I’ll cry and beg for it to stop. And yet, on some level, I won’t want it to. God help me, I desire it. The humiliation! The pain! What type of woman am I?”
Dani thought back to her former life before Etienne brought her to Roissy, back to southern California. There she had been the property of a man named Todd. She had met Todd after coming to Los Angeles from Kansas with dreams of becoming a Hollywood star. Of course, those dreams weren’t realized. Instead, Dani discovered a world of drugs and ended up starring in pornographic films that Todd produced. After Todd enslaved Dani, he eventually tired of her and gave her to Etienne. But before he did, Todd had taken a new girlfriend, Ginger - a woman with whom Dani had done lesbian BDSM porn. Todd had Ginger tattoo ‘Slave for Love’ on Dani’s right buttocks and his initials on her left – a tattoo that looked like a brand. Todd also had Ginger beat and flog Dani. Once as Dani was bound on the bed and Ginger had been flogging her, she said to the bound woman, “You are such a slut! I swear, you enjoy being beaten. It looks as if you’re about to come when I flog your pussy!”
Now, bound in the Roissy dungeon, about to be led to another whipping, Dani thought to herself, “Was Ginger right?”
A Saturday Night at Roissy: Part Four
As Margareta watched Zoe, naked and on her knees, caressing Ari’s member with her ardent mouth in one of the suites in the hotel wing of Chateau Roissy, poor Dani was having an entirely different type of experience in the dungeon of the Chateau. After displaying her in the bar area of the Chateau, Etienne had told James, the valet, to bring her to the dungeon where he would be waiting. Saying this, Etienne handed the leash which was attached to the heavy metal ring piercing Dani’s labia to James.
James led the hooded woman from the bar and down a long hallway, the only sound was the click clack of the wooden mules Dani wore on her feet. Dani may have wanted to say something, but inside the hood which covered her face and eyes, a penis shaped gag was secured in her mouth, preventing her from speaking. Suddenly, she felt the tension on the leash go slack and heard James say, “Here we are at the entrance to the dungeon. There will be steps I will take your arm to guide you down them.” Then Dani heard the creak of a heavy door being opened.
“Here is a step,” said James. He took one hand and placed it on Dani’s waist to guide her. The other hand grasped Dani’s hands which were secured behind her using the leather bracelets that every Roissy slave wore on their wrists. This same hand of James’s held the loop at the end of the leash connected to Dani’s sex. She thought to herself, “I can feel the leash that leads me around as if I were an animal. The leash that is connected to the ring that pierced my sex, one of the symbols of my abject slavery. How on earth did I ever end up this way?”
With thoughts like that in her head, Dani descended the 39 steps to her Fate.
++++
At the bottom of the steps, James led Dani into a small vestibule. Etienne was already there sitting on a leather covered sofa. Dani heard her Owner say, “Have her kneel and remove the hood and gag. I want to see her face now.” James did as he was bid. Dani blinked in the dim light of the dungeon, the first light she had seen in several hours and gasped as the large gag was removed, causing drool to run from her mouth and drip onto her breasts. She noticed Etienne approaching. He was wearing a robe which was not closed and flared open as he walked, revealing his semi erect member.
Etienne said, “In a bit I’ll have James flog you. And, of course, you’re to be whipped in the morning, but now I want you to caress me with your mouth.” Saying this he pushed his member towards Dani’s mouth. She took it without protest, kissing, sucking, and twirling her tongue around its tip. Soon it was fully erect, filling Dani’s mouth. She felt Etienne’s hands grasp her hair, her hair, the color of dirty snow. He thrust into her, forcing her tongue to the back of her throat and nearly gagging her.
It didn’t take Etienne long to come.
++++
James pulled Dani up by grasping her hands bound behind her. With spittle and seen dripping from her mouth, she felt her hands being raised. She heard the sound of a chain hanging from a rafter in the vestibule being attached to the rings in the bracelets on her wrists. She felt the pressure of the chain as it was being pulled taut, raising her arms in a most uncomfortable way. She was forced forward, half leaning, causing her breasts to hang down. Her shoulders ached. Etienne grabbed both nipples, squeezing them, and said, “It’s painful, isn’t it?” After you’re flogged, you’ll spend the rest of the night like this -arms raised behind your back. I would imagine you’ll be too uncomfortable to get any sleep, so you can just think about the whipping you’ll receive in the morning. But for now…” Etienne’s voice trailed off. He nodded at James who held the riding crop in his hand. Dani heard the swish -the sound a crop makes- and felt a terrible burning on her buttocks.
++++
Upstairs Ari snored, but Margareta couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts kept going back to the hooded woman she had seen in the bar earlier that night.
Yesterday I suddenly realised that my tumblr would have been illegal had it been made in and posted from the UK due to the 2014 Audiovisual Media Services Regulations an amendment to the 2003 Communications Act. I am nothing if not an anglophile so @masteracph and I have decided to go through all the acts outlawed by this new amendment to celebrate they don’t apply to us! Every point on the list will be covered, documented and posted here. The outlawed practices are as follows:
Spanking
Caning
Aggressive whipping
Penetration by any object “associated with violence”
Physical or verbal abuse (regardless of if consensual)
Urolagnia (known as “water sports”)
Role-playing as non-adults
Physical restraint
Humiliation
Female ejaculation
Strangulation
Facesitting
Fisting
(Last three points are considered life threatening!)For more information on the law: http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/a-long-list-of-sex-acts-just-got-banned-in-uk-porn-9897174.html
Mistress Demona Whipping
I sit in my Ann Arbor apartment, waiting for you to text me and tell me you’re here. I’m excited, since I haven’t seen you in weeks, and nervous, for the same reason. I fiddle with the hem of my dress. It’s a red, clingy thing. The sleeveless cut, and tight fit make it suitable for going out to a club or a party, not for sitting around in my apartment, and I feel a bit silly. But I didn’t pick it out because it would make me comfortable. I picked it out because I think you’ll like it. At least I hope you will. Standing up, I walk to the bathroom, walking in heels I’ve finally mastered in order to wear them for you. They’re the black ones with the heels I say are ridiculously high, but I know you’ve said you liked my ass in them. I look in the mirror and make a face. I never wear makeup, but I am now. Not much, just some eye shadow, eyeliner, and lipstick, but to me it feels like a lot.
Finally, my phone buzzes. You’re here! Taking a deep breath, I walk out my door and up the stairs to let you in. I grin when I see you waiting in the entrance, and you smile back. I open the door and you put down your stuff to give me a big hug. We go downstairs and into my apartment, talking about things like my drive up to Ann Arbor and who we’re going to see the next day and all the vegan food I plan to eat. We sit on my couch, still talking, and when I finish what I’m saying, you look at me and say in that voice, “I do like that dress, the way it shows off your tits and your ass, but didn’t you offer me something, cunt? Something about not wearing any clothes while we’re in this apartment together?” I jump a little, feeling myself grow warm. “Oh, shit. Yes. Sorry, sir.” I stand up and start to take off the dress, but you tell me to stop and give me a push. “Bedroom. Now. Crawl.” I get down onto my hands and knees and crawl in my dress and heels to my room.
“Take the clothes off and sit on the bed.” I comply, pulling the dress over my head and slipping off the heels. I sit on the bed, arms up, hands behind my head, completely naked now. You can see that I’ve clearly shaved my armpits, and I open my legs wide, exposing my freshly shaved cunt. I look up at you, and lick my lips, waiting to see what you’re going to do next.
You run your hand up my smooth, hairless leg. “I see you’ve finally figured out how to groom yourself properly, fucktoy. To make yourself as appealing as possible to men, especially to the men you pretend to hate. The ones who know women are inferior, only good to pump cum into. The ones who think body hair on women is disgusting, and that all women are obligated to shave. Who think women’s bodies are disgusting. Even the useful holes.”
I lowered my head and looked down moments after you started talking. Now I’m staring at the floor, feeling a combination of arousal and shame. I know that what you’re saying is actually part of the play we do, and yet…I did shave. And doing that makes me more attractive to the very men I like least, just like you said. I’d always claimed I wouldn’t shave for any man, and now I’ve shaved for every man. So how much is really just pretend?
“How did you feel like you were shaving?” you ask. I take a deep breath. My answer here doesn’t require pretending “Turned on. And like a traitor to feminism. To my feminism.” “Oh?” you say. “Why is that, little feminist bitch?” “I was doing it because you told me to, yes. But deeper than that, I was doing it because I understand that my purpose is to please men. What I want, what I prefer? Those don’t matter. My personality and intelligence? Just emergent properties of a life support system for a set of holes.” You smile at my reference, “You’re clever, although I’ve heard that one before. That’s what so pathetic about this. You’re supposed to be this intelligent, strong, independent woman. You pretend that this is all about playing. About your pleasure. Like you’re doing this because of what you get out of it. But you know that’s just a front you put up to your friends. So they won’t think less of you. But you and I both know that you’re doing this because of what I get out of it. What other men get out of it. Because you’re a thing that belongs to me and you’ll do anything I say. Isn’t that right, stupid slut?”
My face is hot and my pussy is wet. Shifting uncomfortably, I say quietly, “Yes, sir.” You grab my chin and lift it to make me look at you. “What was that?” I take a breath and say “Yes, sir. I’m a toy you own and use for your pleasure. A toy you loan out for other men to use. That’s my purpose. It’s what I crave. To be used, degraded, and hurt by men, for their enjoyment. I belong to you and I’ll follow any instruction you give me, no matter the consequences to me.” “Good,” you respond, “Now that you’re done pretending to be a strong woman, a “feminist,” I’m going to use you exactly how I want. And you’re not going to stop me. Toys don’t get to tell their owners they don’t want to be used a certain way. In fact, they can’t tell their owners anything. I’m going to tie you face down on your bed, and then I’m going to cane you and whip you. I’m going to keep doing it until you safeword. And then I’m going to keep doing it. When I get tired of watching you react to that, I’m going to fuck your ass. I’m not going to use lube. I’m not even going to spit on you. Once we start, I’m not going to stop until I’m done with you. Nothing you say or do will stop me. Do you understand, cunt?”
I look up at you, then away, then back. “Yes,” I say, afraid but determined. ”I understand, sir.” “And why are we doing this” “To show the depth of my submission. How completely you own me, body and mind. I’m making a decision to allow you to do anything you want to my body, even if I can’t take it. Even if I’m sobbing, pleading with you to stop. I want to completely give myself over to you. Making the decision to remove the possibility of being able to stop what’s happening shows how fully I belong to you. In the middle of things, my body might force me to safeword, even if I was mentally willing. Now that can’t happen. Your ownership of me is complete.”
“Good.” You reach over, smiling when I flinch, and ruffle my hair briefly. Then you grab a fistful of hair and pull hard, forcing me onto my stomach. You tie my wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed, and I’m left unable to move, completely at your mercy, or lack thereof. I hear you move over to your bag, and I try to relax my body and mind to prepare for what’s coming. I’m breathing fast and trembling, though, fear and arousal combined. I’m afraid to look at what you’ve decided to use on me first. I hear a noise and then feel the sting as the cane hits my ass. It isn’t hard, not yet. You get into a rhythm, striking my ass and the backs of my thighs, but just as I’m getting into it, you switch it up, not letting me get adjusted. You’re hitting harder now, and I struggle not to try to move out of the position I’m in.
I’m breathing faster now, trying to keep it slow and steady and starting to fail. Just before I would have safeworded, the painful hits cease. I’m not sure what you’re doing until I feel something way worse hit me where my ass and thighs meet. You’re whipping me now, which I can’t handle anywhere near as well as I can take the caning. You don’t start out hitting me softly with this, and it’s only a minute or two before I don’t think I can take any more. I take a breath to say, “Red,” not thinking clearly enough to know that won’t work, when again, you stop.
I think maybe you’ve changed your mind. Maybe you’re done now. Then you put your phone in front of my face, video recording. “Tell the camera what’s happening and why. You won’t be able to lie to yourself or to your friends anymore about what you are. If you don’t decide to tell them the truth, I’ll just show them this at some point.” You start with the cane again, landing a couple of blows hard enough that I start to cry. I look at myself in the screen, my makeup completely ruined, tears running down my face.
I start to speak, seeing my winces and grimaces as you continue caning me. “I’ve given myself completely over to MLAM. To my owner. He’s going to hit me with this cane and whip me until I say “Red” and then he’s not going to stop. When he’s bored of that, he’s going to fuck my ass without any lube, except maybe blood. I told you I was going to do this, but I don’t know if you really believed me. I don’t know if I really believed me, at least at first. You suggested having emergency safewords. I gave up all control. There’s absolutely nothing I can do to make this stop, and I don’t want there to be. I want…No. Need to be used like just a piece of fuckmeat. I told you, ‘He says he’s not going to use lube. But I’m going to talk to him for real and make him.’ I didn’t even try to change his mind. He’s going to use me with absolutely no regard for what I want, let alone my pleasure.” I’m crying harder now, but I continue, stopping to sob every so often, “This is happening because I asked for it. I literally asked to be treated this way. I pretend that it’s because I like it. That it’s about me enjoying myself, about me having fun. I tell you that the reason I like MLAM is because I know he doesn’t mean the things he says about me, about women, that we’re playing. None of that is true. He just showed me that those things he says, the ‘fucking with my feminism?’ It’s just the truth. I’m three holes and a heartbeat, and this is how I deserve to be treated. I crave the feeling of being used, degraded, and hurt by men. Anything else I say is the playing. This is my reality.”
As I say the last bit, you hit me with the whip, hard, and it’s the last straw. “Red,” I manage to squeak out. “What was that?” you ask, and I say more loudly, “Red. Red! Please stop!” You pause for a moment, then laugh derisively, “No.” and bring the whip down again, even harder this time. It hurts, and the fact that I can’t stop it really hits me now. “Please? MLAM, come on. Red!” I’m sobbing hard now, pleading, begging, and cajoling. You grab a handful of hair and pull my head up. “No. I’m not done. Shut up, pisswhore.” You let go of my hair and start caning me. I stop trying to say anything, and start to struggle, but I’m not going anywhere. I start to float up into my head, but you keep switching the rhythm, pattern, and tool you’re using, making it impossible to get away mentally. Finally, I try one last time. “Please, sir? I’ll do anything you want. Anything. Just please, stop.” You stop hitting me long enough to say, “That’s cute. But no. We both know you’d do anything for me anyway. You’re just that eager to please. Dumb bitch.” You go back to hitting me, and I start to feel spots where the skin has opened up and I’m bleeding. I’m not crying anymore, mostly just breathing loudly and roughly.
I register that you’re not hitting me anymore, and I’m relieved until I feel you roughly push a finger into my ass, add another, and pump in and out a couple times. You move to start fucking me, and I manage to say “I thought you were going to use a condom. You said you didn’t want unprotected anal because of the risk of pregnancy.” You reply, “Oh, honey. No. I don’t give a fuck about what happens to your body. I’ll just make you take EC, or get an abortion, or just drop you. You start pushing your cock in, no lube, not even spit. Just like you said. Lately, I’ve been having my ass used more, and more roughly, than I ever have before, but this is uncomfortable, painful, even, in a way none of that has been. I try to relax, just let it happen, but my body is tense and tight, and I can’t get away from the feeling. Finally, I hear you groan and say into my ear, “Look at this, you slut. You took my whole cock in your ass. No lube. Good job. I guess you’re good for something.” I shudder at the combination of praise and degradation.
You fuck my hole for what can’t be more than a minute or two, but seems like much longer, and then I feel you pull out. “I know you think that the fact that I’m not using lube is a perfect illustration of the idea that this is all about you. I’d enjoy it more with lube, right?” I try to answer, but can’t really manage words or much complex thought. “Well, that’s true,” you say, and when you push back inside me, I can tell there’s lube on your cock. You grab my hair again, and pull my head back to look at you. “This isn’t about you. This is about my pleasure. So I’m going to use lube to get the best use from your ass as possible. Just remember, though. You are so fully owned, so fucking pathetic, so thoroughly desperate for male attention, for my approval, that you were willing to let me fuck that tight hole of yours without lube.” You fuck me hard and deep, and the lube doesn’t do much to stop it from hurting.
Despite, or because of, the cruel treatment, the pain from the rough anal, and the pain from everywhere I’ve been hit, I realize how hot and wet my cunt is. I moan softly and push back against you briefly, then freeze. “Not about you, fuckhole. Shut up.” you say, and as you slam into my ass, you push my head into the bed so I can’t speak and can barely breathe. I lay there, quiet and still, a sextoy, here for you to stick your cock in and fill with cum. I belong to you, all I want is to serve that purpose. After I don’t know how long, you thrust in deep and cum inside me, making me shiver happily, feeling like I’ve finally managed to be useful.
You collapse on me and lay there, collecting yourself. When you stand up, I expect to be untied and cuddled. Instead you put on some clothes and look at your phone. “I posted an ad on craigslist for you. I’ve gotten a couple texts from men who are going to come and use you, and I’m going to get 25 bucks a hole. One of them just got here, so I’ll go let him in.” You walk out of my room, leaving me dazed, used, frightened, uncertain, excited, and deeply satisfied.
