A few months ago an interesting development took place when I replied to an email from a man called Max who was very polite, and also extremely complimentary about my series of true memoirs called “Where do I begin?”

He paid me the huge compliment of asking me to write a short sado-masochistic story for his private enjoyment. I happily agreed, but it took me longer to complete than I had promised and after a few weeks of waiting patiently, he sent me this email:

>Dear Lady,

>

>It is with warm anticipation I await the trials of our heroine. I shall content myself until such time as she is thoroughly abused. My cock and my hand await the results.

>

>Your servant,

>

>Max

I was embarrassed that I had caused this polite gentleman to experience such frustration, and when there was a problem with the emailing of the final story, as a true submissive, I offered to do penance in recompense for that and for the tardiness of my efforts.

> Dear Sir,

>

> I sometimes become stupidly excited when thinking about my punishments and make stupid mistakes.

>

> I thought I had sent you the next section of your story yesterday, but as I have not heard from you it appears that I may have made a mistake. Just in case I have done that, I attach a second copy of the short chapter that I have written at your request for your enjoyment, and if I did accidentally send you an empty or corrupted file, it would seem only right that I should be punished for that misdemeanor.

>

> It would be my pleasure to submit myself to your wishes; tell me what you wish me to do to myself as my punishment, and I promise you, dear sir, that I will carry it out, or have it carried out on my body. Please, please do not hesitate to request me to do, or to have done, anything you wish.

>

> Be clear that you may request me to do whatever your heart, and, if course, your cock, desires of me.

>

> I will, of course, write to you to tell you how I set about completing your task, and how I felt as I underwent whatever it is you request of me. Because of my personal circumstances I'm afraid that I cannot provide you with photographs or movies; my social and business position is too sensitive for that to be a possibility, but I will write to you describing the experience in detail, from my perspective.

>

> I await your communication with some trepidation but with the anticipation that only a true submissive can experience.

>

> I write to you with my best regards,

>

> Canz

The emails unfolded thus.

>Dear Canz,

> 

>Ah but no punishment is required, Alas!  I have been away from my console for a brief holiday. Foreswearing my computer for a needed respite.  But behold! When I have arrived back at my desk, the sweet anticipation of a wonderful story. 

>

>And

>Mmmmmm

>the thought of your soft velvet hand stroking determinedly my cock as I read your story.  The sensual back and forth of your hand, first up then ever so firm, yet exciting down.  You of course next to me, naked save wristbands and heels.  My release on your breasts and your delightful positions as you lick the sperm off the floor and yourself.

> 

>Mmmmm. 

>It feeels so wonderful!

>

>I shall reply accordingly, as soon as I finished this repast and let you know of my pleasure.

> 

>But then again, to punish a submissive for pleasure!  

>Ahhhh what fun!  Allow that I may devise some method to satisfy my whim, if you be so willing.

>

>Max

The next email from him was at once elaborate and fanciful, and also extremely precise.

>Canz,

>

>First it will take a bit to settle the throbbing between my legs as I have just finished reading your attachment to my story.  As there is no one near to resolve my issues, my fluids will have to be dispensed with by my own hand.  I am quite pleased with the result of your writing.  (mmmmm , quite pleased.)

> 

>Second, I know you only from your writings, as wonderful as they are, but for my pleasure and knowledge they are decidedly too few. They convey a sense of deep submissiveness yet sophistication and all the qualities of a true lady.  I see you in my mind, straps on, high heels in place and those swaying wonderful full breasts.  Long succulent legs and lips full and wanting.  As an image in my mind such as this you might realize my reluctance to use the common vulgarities by which I would communicate many forms of my pleasure. Cunt, cock, cum, sperm, ass, tits, all are welcome as expressions of either actions or parts of the body and would not offend my sensibilities.  But I would not presume to foist them upon you in so early a stage, with so little knowledge of yourself, without first your acquiescence or acceptance of same.

> 

>As you have been very forthcoming with me, let me be forthcoming with you.  I desire deeply to have a woman naked before me on a bed.  To hold a leather belt in my hand and tell her to spread her legs and then bring the belt down time and again until she screams, cries and then cums incessantly.  Yet, I have never done such a thing, and it lives in my mind and torments my sensibilities.  I do not know if I could beat and whip and torture such a small beautiful creature for my pleasure and desire.  I do not know if her cries would drive me to surrender or drive me to wild abandon as she lay writhing on the bed before me. 

> 

>I envy your experiences.  To have moved in your path and known your release.  To have been guided by your father to your true desires; experienced, enjoyed them and demanded more.  It is truly a good journey.  Although I do not know all of me, do not despair.  I am very happy and very pleased with the turns in my life.  I do know at sometime I would like to meet these desires and hope I will.  I know that as of now to control a woman, make her do my bidding, to subject her to simple forms of humiliations that she can not deny, watch her body as she responds to my commands.  Ah, that I can do and enjoy.  I like to use devices and bondage. I delight in the orgasmic thrill a woman experiences when she cums.  I most especially like to control.  To do what I desire of a woman when I so desire.  This is this part of me.

> 

>I too am a professional, with to many, way too many contacts that would be offended and I cannot afford to be indiscreet.  So fear not.  Although pictures, video and sound would be wonderful, it is not necessary or required.  I trust you to do as you say and trust my imagination to take in the rest.

> 

>The result and ending of this note is thus.  I know you not, submissive.  If you desire I will know you.  Through time and effort as we are both equally employed elsewhere.   There is no timetable for this acquaintance and it may take its course as it will.  I desire to know more about you.  I desire to demand things of you.  I desire you to be tortured in my name. 

> 

>Yet in all things with a submissive she must give the permission to be so used.  As you have offered a single instance of use for an offense you thought committed, I take advantage and ask it be performed for my pleasure and in my name.  Spread yourself naked upon a bed. Have not but your heels and straps. Drape your calves over the edge so that your thighs and cunt remain in full view.  Spread your thighs and without restraints, be beaten upon your cunt until you cum.   You have lived this life before and I'm sure it would be a simple request.  But now live this moment for my fantasy.

> 

>And if you so desire, continue our correspondence. But know that I will become more than you know as I fall fully, over time, more comfortable in my control.  Yet be assured, you shall remain a discreet, yet beautiful possession if only over distance.

> 

>Humbly Yours,

> 

>Max

 

Having made the offer, there was no way I could back out, so it was agreed that Marie, my beautiful French lover would administer the punishment – she likes doing that kind of thing to me – and then I would write a detailed description of the event for Max’s private use.

The date was set, Marie and I drove out to our place in the country, and I informed Max of the schedule.

He replied:

>Canz,

>

>I am pleased you made the trip in good health.   I will reflect well on your trials at about 11 GMT.

> 

>With Lustful thoughts and gentle concerns.

>

Max

Here is my description of the events that Saturday morning. 

Dear Max,

I must humbly apologise for the delay in sending this description of the extraordinary whipping that Marie subjected me to on your behalf. It has taken me some time to recover sufficiently to be able to sit at my computer, and I suspect that it will be some days, possibly weeks, before I am completely recovered.

Rest assured, however, that I in no way regret that you asked for me to have this punishment carried out, and neither do I regret making myself endure it; although I am a successful, and in many ways a forceful woman, it is in my nature to be submissive sexually, and it excites me to have to endure painful and degrading experiences.

Also, as a result, Marie and I have learned even more about each other, and about us.

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to confirm yet again that our love for each other is deep and unshakeable.

Max, dirty sex and certain deviant practises that are normally reviled as being wicked perversions are wonderful experiences, and it is a pleasure for me to be able to share this experience with you. In order that you enjoy this narrative fully, may I respectfully ask you to be naked when you read it, perhaps with a glass of wine beside you? Will your Girl be looking over your shoulder, or will I have you all to myself?

Canz

Last weekend went as follows.

Max, you must know that Marie and I set off after work on Friday to our place about an hour out of town; one reason for delaying my realisation of your most courteous request is that our country place is remote from all other habitation, and any screams pass unheard as there are no neighbours close enough to hear them. You will remember how my father and I made strenuous efforts to prevent the attentions of inquisitive friends and neighbours who simply would not sympathise with our actions, and who would be unable to perceive the simple beauty of the gift of pain freely given and freely accepted. Marie and I have continued to adopt that policy.

However, there were many traffic problems on the road and it took us some hours longer than usual to complete our journey; in fact, despite our need to enjoy the peace and quiet of our rural retreat, had it not been that we had your assignment to complete we might well have turned back. In the event, however, we eventually arrived, and I was too nervous to eat properly; after a light supper with only a little Sancerre, we retired quite early.

We both slept well, waking only once during the night to pleasure each other with our tongues; Marie’s anus has a sweet, delicious taste and aroma, and after our delightful orgasms I fell back to sleep with my head resting on her naked buttocks. Although she is a fierce lover, she is also a kind and considerate woman, and she uncomplainingly spent the rest of the night trying to sleep face down on her stomach, which with her large breasts is quite uncomfortable, so as not to disturb me.  Out of deference to the ordeal that awaited me in the morning, she wanted me to have an undisturbed sleep so as to be as rested and relaxed as possible.

In the morning, I had no breakfast. I know that my father often used to whip or belt me after lunch, but one thing I have learned as I’ve matured is that it’s better to be whipped on an empty stomach! A couple of strong milky coffees was all I wanted; be aware, Max, that although I volunteered to enact this scene for you, and I am pleased to bring you pleasure by doing so, I do get nervous when I know I’m about to be whipped. It really does hurt, especially with an experienced woman like Marie wielding the belt.

My heart suddenly raced as Marie stood up. It was time. A brief spasm of fear tightened my stomach and my cunt.

As I promised, we both slipped off our dressing gowns, and completely naked, we padded silently through the house on bare feet, hand in hand up the two flights of stairs, our breasts swaying freely on our chests, to our large, mirrored room in the roof space of our house. I stood in the middle of the room, and with my legs a little apart I turned my head from side to side a little in order to regard my reflections. I’m no longer the young girl I describe in my earlier memoirs, but I’m glad to say that my body is still slim, with broad hips and full breasts that are only a little creamier than when I had just left school.

Marie kissed me, then knelt in front of me and slipped my feet into my black heels; my reflection was suddenly that of a tall, sexy woman. These sandals are made of shiny, patent leather, similar to the ones my father gave me when I set off for America, and even though I’ve worn them frequently they’re still almost too high for me to walk in, and apart from the slight platform sole and the thin, spike heel there is virtually nothing of them! My bare foot is held in place by a thin strap across my toes and another which buckles round my ankle.

Even although your instructions were that I should not be tied or clipped in place, and that I should remain as your vulnerable and willing victim through force of my own will alone, Marie knelt naked at my feet and buckled my ankle straps in place. My straps are my “uniform”, they are what I wear when I am to be chastised, and they are redolent with wonderful memories of pain offered and received, and of sweet, sweating orgasms achieved at great personal cost. All of my straps are robust pieces of thick, padded leather with large steel clips. I have had them for many years and they are sweat stained and well used.

Still kneeling, Marie slipped two fingers across my labia and held them up for us both to see.

“You are wet, Cherie.”

She smiled and licked her fingers clean, then she stood up and I held my arms out towards her for her to buckle my wrist straps in place. These are virtually identical to my ankle straps and are also a well worn and sweat stained. They look very large on my slim wrists.

I swallowed nervously and tried to respond when she then kissed me, but my heart was beating too hard and too fast for me to be able to relax properly into her embrace, so she led me by the hand over to the bed that dominates the room. It is a large single bed, long and quite broad, with neither headboard nor footboard; instead it has robust loops of thick wire fixed all round it, to which I am normally tethered. There are no bedcovers. It stands on a raised platform under the mirrored ceiling and is essentially a rectangular padded platform on which I adopt various positions and poses in order to receive my punishments from my ardent and inventive lover.

You must remember that we do not sleep here, this is not our bedroom; it’s where we enjoy our love for each other

I tried to calm myself before lying down on my back for you; I took a moment to glance up at myself in the mirror, and I was glad that you’d asked for me to wear my straps. The stark contrast between my pale skin and my dark heels, and the severe strips of padded leather at my wrists and ankles is startling and undeniably sexual in a most wanton and exciting way; they are the perfect compliment to the dark hair on my head and my pubic mound. I hope you do not think me boastful or unduly immodest, but dressed in this way there is no mistaking that my slim, full-breasted body is still beautiful; there is also no mistaking that it is about to be punished!

You didn’t ask for my hair to be pinned up, so it still flowed over my shoulders, almost reaching my breasts, but, Max, it is a nuisance if it hangs freely during a whipping, so Marie quickly swept her fingers back through it for me and created a pony tail which she fastened down my back. I hope you don’t mind; it keeps my shoulders bare. I like to be as completely exposed as possible for my punishments.

With a nervous gulp I realised that it was time to lie down. The thud of my heart was loud in my ears.

Marie brushed the back of her fingers across my cheek, and then took my hand and turned me round so that my back was towards the bed. I sat down on it. She then helped me to shuffle my bottom backwards until my knees reached the edge of the mattress and I lay down, flat on my back with my knees bent and my feet still touching the floor. As you requested, I then spread my legs wide, exposing my cunt, but I’m afraid to say that the position was just wrong! Not your fault, Max, or ours, but even in my mounting panic I could see that with my heels on, the bed was too low to allow my legs to dangle freely as you requested, and although my cunt was certainly quite exposed, it was in fact lower than my knees, and looking down at me, Marie could only shake her head. The relative heights of my pelvis and my knees, and the resultant angle of my thighs, would make it too awkward for even the tip of the belt to reach in to my labia cleanly and accurately.

So Marie helped me back to my feet and I stood and watched as she gathered up three or four cushions and placed them for me to sit on at the edge of the bed. When she helped me to lean back this time, my bottom was raised high enough for my calves to dangle quite freely. I spread my legs wide until my thighs were almost in line with the edge of the bed.

Marie nodded her approval of the tight “T” shape made by my body and my thighs.

Mars, I know you are a man, and therefore made differently from me, especially, of course, between your legs, but in order to understand how I felt, you must try lying on a bed in this position. Even when my Daddy had me clipped to his old barrel, I have never felt so exposed and vulnerable! My cunt has never felt so – accessible!

Apart from my leather “uniform” I was naked and bent backwards across the bed with my head hanging back off the far side, and the angle of my body meant that my oh, so accessible pubis was angled upwards, pointing towards the ceiling; looking at myself in the mirror above me I could quite clearly see all of my naked body, and the spread of my pale, soft thighs enabled me to gaze quite easily into my own cunt. I could see that despite my growing unease I was very wet between my legs, the lips of my sweet, virgin sex already shining with my sexual excitement.

Max, my fear of my impending whipping, and my love of exhibiting myself to Marie, were combining deep in my tight, apprehensive stomach to flood my sex with my fluids; I was ready for her to love me and to punish me on your behalf.

I gulped and swallowed nervously as I lay there waiting, the tension gathering in my stomach and between my legs. Ever since Marie has been my lover, I’ve enjoyed the process of getting ready, with her help, for whatever punishment or torture she has in mind for me. However, she almost never tells me in advance what she’s going to do to me, so it was suddenly quite different and somehow much more frightening to be lying naked on my back knowing in what was about to happen to me.

My heart started race and a pulse started to throb in my ears; Max, I will freely admit to you that I was nervous; in fact I was very scared.

That may seem strange. We all know that I like to be whipped, but Marie, and my Daddy - he still whips me occasionally – they both “warm me up” by hitting my stomach or my back, or some other less “critical” part of my body, and although they have whipped my cunt, it’s always been as the culmination of a carefully structured series of escalating punishments where the whip has bitten into a number of less sensitive parts of my body first. But you wanted me to whipped only on my cunt, and with no preamble, and that’s what was about to happen.

It was going to hurt. It was going to hurt a lot, but then, of course that was/is what is required of me; that is what I require of myself. Max, it is entirely as a result of my choices that I was to be tortured for your pleasure!

Please make yourself “comfortable” so that you will enjoy my description of events.

Marie leant over me and kissed me full on my mouth, a deep lover’s kiss full of all our sweetness and longing, and the lust that we both feel for each other almost all the time. She lay on top of me and pressed the full length of her body against mine and held me tight and whispered to me to be brave, and then she stood up in front of me, completely naked and with my old belt wrapped round her right fist.

She told me to spread my legs further and to spread my arms out flat too. The only thing holding me in place was my willing submission to the leather that was about to smack into my pale, soft flesh.

For you, Max.

As I have said on occasion in my memoirs, I wish I could help all my readers cum as they read of my exploits, and I do wish that I could increase your excitement, Max, by gently placing my fingers round your cock as you read this history. Would your Girl understand if you were to ask her to do that for you in my place?

I was ready to be whipped by Marie, on your behalf, with my old belt; it’s the same one my Daddy gave me all those years ago, and like my straps it’s beginning to show signs of wear and of age. Although it’s quite thick, it’s soft, supple, and streaked with dark marks where it has snaked towards me and across me and cracked into my sweating flesh, punching its brutal way into my body as I lie, or stand, usually weeping and screaming in torment as it slams into me, again and again; just as it was about to do once more!

My old belt is an old friend and an old enemy.

I lifted my head and looked up at Marie as she stood in front of me; she is beautiful, and naked she is irresistible. These days her skin is even paler than mine, we both tend to keep out of direct sunlight so I’m afraid that I am no longer the tanned schoolgirl you’ve read about in my memoirs. It’s a pity, but as I’m sure you know, it’s considered safer to avoid becoming tanned. So I lay there, naked, with my pale, bent legs spread wide, my feet dangling in space, and my neck muscles taught with the effort of holding my head up so that I could watch my lover as she stood over me, her legs slightly apart and her dark, unruly pubic hair a dark contrast with her pale skin, and she repeated her instruction to spread my arms flat on the bed, as though I was being crucified.

I glanced at the mirror above me. My arms were stretched out flat on the bed, lifting and separating my full breasts so that they were as broad as my hips. We are both aware that my willing and absolute submission to the belt is an important part of your request.

I was ready for my punishment.

With no warning the belt snaked forward between my legs and the hard leather tip flicked wickedly into my cunt. Marie counted,

“Fifty.”

I gasped. The sudden pain between my legs and the realisation of what was about to be done to me brought a cold sweat to my entire body.

The belt tip cracked into my naked cunt again and Marie counted,

“Forty-nine.”

Already tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes; at your request, Marie was going to punish me with fifty strokes of the belt, all for you, all on my cunt.

Another vicious flick of the leather tip smacked against my defenceless labia.

“Forty-eight.”

I panicked; fifty strokes! I couldn’t take fifty strokes like this, all of them on my cunt. It was too much. I convulsively snapped my legs closed and brought my arms together and crossed my flattened palms protectively over my entire pubic region.

Marie was angry with me.

“Resume your position, Cherie, or I will have to tie you in place and take the buckle to you, and then start again, but from one hundred this time.”

I looked into her eyes. She loves me and I trust her, even when she is whipping me, but I also knew that she would carry out her threat. With a choking sigh I slowly spread my legs and resumed the undignified and exposed position you requested, Max, and allowed my arms to fall open on to the bed. My naked body was once again defenceless and completely vulnerable.

The belt immediately struck my cunt again.

“Forty-seven.”

I started to cry. The pain between my legs was already intense and not in the slightest way erotic; it just hurt!

Marie ignored my tears and sent the belt snaking between my legs again, savouring my cries as the tip dug into me, and delighting in the frantic gyrations of my hips as my stomach distended and I rocked my pelvis forward, squirming helplessly on my back in a vain attempt to protect myself.

“Forty-six.”

The sweat was pouring from me and my tears filled my eyes. In my effort not to start screaming yet I was breathing heavily through my nose with my teeth clamped shut.

“Forty-five.”

My nose blocked; I was forced to open my mouth, but with it open it was difficult not to scream as the breath was driven from my lungs by the strokes of the belt. I managed to control myself enough to merely grunt deep in my throat when the belt tip hit me.

“Forty-four!”

Marie’s voice shook slightly as she said this last and I lifted my head and jerked my eyes open - when had I closed them and let my head relax back? -  And I saw that she too was sweating, partially because of the effort involved and also because of her obvious mounting excitement.

Make no mistake, Max, Marie was jumping at this excuse to punish me so severely and was taking full advantage of her opportunity. Her pale, naked body shone with a healthy, excited glow, and I watched her pink, full breasts sway freely on her chest as her arm brought the belt cracking up into my cunt yet again.

“Forty-three.” She was breathless, excited.

I was just in pain.

This stroke hurt more than all the previous ones combined.  Instead of merely flicking the belt tip into me, Marie was bringing it up between my legs so that the flat of the belt smacked hard against my labia, the impact forcing them apart so that the sharp pointed tip could flick wickedly inside my vagina, punching its vicious way deep into me.

The pain was simply excruciating. My darling Marie was whipping the inside of my cunt! I screamed!

“Forty-two.”

I screamed again and stared up at my tortured body in the mirror, but my pale skin was unmarked; I couldn’t believe that I could feel so much pain when it wasn’t visible to my eyes, but my pale skin was unmarked. Max, you chose wisely when you asked for only my cunt to be punished, the marks of the belt are well hidden in my most private place. The only visible sign that anything was taking place was the darker colour of my cunt lips; they were beginning to bruise!

“Forty-one.”

The belt swung up between my legs, violating me once again as it thrust deep inside my body, forcing my labia apart, the hard leather searing into my soft, sweet sex.

“Forty.”

I could no longer control myself; I was howling and whimpering. Sweat poured from me. The blow, deep inside my cunt, forced the air from my lungs in a single huge scream and through a kind of pink fog I observed my breasts rising and falling in an uncontrollable panic as I started to hyperventilate.

“Thirty-nine.”

Marie ignored my distress; actually, she didn’t ignore it, she revelled in it. Her body also shone with sweat as the thrill and effort of whipping my naked body in its most tender and sensitive place excited her more and more. As I watched, a single drop of her sweat fell from her nipple and trickled down her thigh; it’s shining trail on her leg a testament to her lust for me. Believe me, we love each other, and it is my pleasure to serve her in any and every way possible, but whilst she never loses control of herself whilst she is torturing me, she really, really enjoys doing these things to me.

“Thirty-eight.”

Another stroke of the belt deep inside my cunt cut through my thoughts. Of course I love the orgasms I achieve through the unrelenting pain that Marie’s love demands of me, but when it’s actually going on, there are times when it just hurts. I am often in too much pain to even consider how much it degrades me, but I do sometimes wonder, what kind of rational, intelligent, successful and attractive woman I am when I offer myself to be whipped between my legs and then I simply lie naked on my back and allow it to happen?

“Thirty-seven.”

I was crying – actually howling with pain – all the time now. I could barely focus with my tear-filled eyes – the world had turned a pale pink anyway – and I had to swallow continuously as my mucus threatened to choke me as it streamed down the back of my throat.

“Thirty-six.”

My labia felt tight as the lips of my cunt started to swell up, it was a sudden moment of clarity between strokes of the belt; I’d been so intent on the pain of the tip of the belt cracking into the tender inside of my vagina, that it was almost a surprise to remember that with each blow the flat of the belt was also tormenting me, brutally compressing my flesh and each time forcing my labia to spread apart for my body to receive the kiss of the leather deep inside my most sensitive and private place.

“Thirty-five.”

I was too fond of Marie to try to protect myself; I merely rolled my head from side to side and screamed, my pony tail whipping back and forth below the back of my head as I lay on my back with just my body supported on the bed, and sweated and howled and screamed and coughed and swallowed and rocked my head and screamed and cried. I was no longer a woman; I was just a shivering wreck with a blazing inferno burning in my cunt.

“Thirty-four.”

A pause.

Marie was going to stop?

Please, dear God.

Her voice cut through to my delirium.

“Spread your legs more, and spread your cunt open. Use your fingers.”

I stopped screaming for a moment sniffed in a most un-lady-like way and swallowed a mouthful of my own mucus.

“Now, Cherie.”

Unnoticed in my pain, my thighs had been edging closer together. I was lying on my back in the shape of a “Y” rather than the “T” shape Marie demanded. I immediately forced my legs as far apart as I could, and grasped my labia between the finger and thumb of each hand and pulled them as far apart as I could. As I’ve said, I love Marie, but at times I’m also scared of her. It’s an old joke, I know, but it’s true - “If this is what she does to me when she loves me, what in hell would she do to me if she ever got really angry?”

I hope I never learn!

A whole new world of pain opened itself between my legs when Marie lifted her arm above her head and then brought the belt down as hard as she could; no clever flicks or smart upper strokes, just a straight belting with the leather punching hard into my held open cunt. I was sure I could actually feel my soft, delicate flesh bruising as she said.

“Thirty-three”, and brought the belt down again, once again punching it flat into my cunt with a complete and arrogant brutality.

My big, soft breasts surged on my chest and I thought my heart would burst out of my chest; my body convulsed with the pain. My breathing stopped and for a moment I was completely still and completely silent, but for a hiss like escaping steam deep in my throat.

“Thirty-two”.

My own scream deafened me! My body was awash with my sweat. I rocked from side to side in agony; I shook my head to try to comfort my tortured body, but there was no protection for my sex, my vagina, my throbbing, tormented cunt, as yet another swinging blow of the belt cracked into it.

“Thirty-one.”

There was a sudden huge pain in the fingers of my right hand. Marie had caught them a glancing blow. I howled in disbelief when she hit me again and said,

“Thirty-one; the last one didn’t count.”

I was by now in serious trouble. I couldn’t open my eyes, I couldn’t lift my head from where it hung back over the edge of the bed, my body was soaked in sweat and I could hardly breathe; my cunt was simply a mass of pain – I was sure it was bleeding, I could feel it pouring from my body.

“Thirty.”

“Marie! Stop it; I’m bleeding.”

“Twenty-nine. No you’re not, Cherie. And don’t make me lose count so that I have to start again.”

And with no alteration to its hellish, regular rhythm, the belt hit me again, right between my held open labia, right in my held open cunt.

“Twenty-eight.”

I howled in anguish.

“Twenty-seven.”

“Marie, darling, please stop; please!”

Marie ignored me and hit me with the belt once again, deep inside my tender body.

“Twenty-six.”

I didn’t dare close my legs but I rolled from side to side, my breasts actually slapping together, and I started to drum my feet on the floor. I was really panicking. I really couldn’t take any more.

“Twenty-five.’

“Marie!” I shrieked, with the full force of my lungs. I shrieked again, at the top of my voice.

“Marie!”

Marie looked down at me.

Between my sobs I whispered;

“I just can’t take any more, Marie. It’s not sexy, it just hurts. And it hurts me so much, darling, oh, so much…,.”

My voice trailed off. I was sobbing uncontrollably, my knees pressed together and between my legs my fingers gently massaged the abused flesh of my labia, my fingertips carefully probing deeper inside my body. I rolled off the cushions and lay on my side with my knees up by my breasts and my hands in my cunt, comforting myself and trying to ease the shocking pain burning deep between my legs. It was beyond endurance and my whole frame shook with my sobs as I lay there, naked but for my shoes and straps, a mature woman, crying my eyes out like a baby for the pain.

Marie came round and knelt beside me. She slipped one arm under me and wrapped the other round my back and pulled my body hard against her breasts. She leant forward and licked and kissed my eyelids until I opened them and looked deep into her eyes.

“I really can’t take anymore, Marie; I just can’t.”

She looked at me.

“But you promised him your orgasm by having your cunt whipped, Cherie. Would you be a liar?”

I sobbed.

“I know, Marie, I promised, but where’s the love. Without the love it’s just pain.”

She thought for a moment.

“But you don’t know him. How can there be love?”

I looked deep into my lovers’ eyes.

“No, Marie. I mean your love. I need your love.”

I howled again in my anguish and my pain, and even with Marie’s arms round me a sudden desolation of loneliness and hopelessness swept through me

“I need you to love me; show me now that you love me and make me love you, Marie, make me submit to you. Please, darling.”

After a moment Marie held my head in her hands, then she smiled and kissed me on my lips.

“Okay, Cherie, I have something for you, then we will continue.”

I smiled bravely back at her through my tears and sniffed and swallowed. Between my legs was still a sea of pain and my ruined body was soaked with my cooling sweat and throat was dry and hoarse with my tears and my screams but none of that mattered; Marie was about to bestow a gift on me.

I was once again her submissive slave girl/woman called Canz.

Max, I must apologise. You asked that I should be brought to orgasm by means of having my cunt whipped with a belt. We had tried, but that alone simply wasn’t going to work. The pain was too great and I’m afraid that I do need something more that just the pain.

Yes, I am a natural submissive and I needed to submit to Marie, but we also share a special love. She is my lover, truly the love of my life, and has been for many years, and any act of love, or lust, which doesn’t encompass my complete submission to her, is in fact not an act of love, it’s simply a series of unpleasant and painful actions. 

Marie kissed me again.

“Get back in position, we’ll finish this together.”

So I rolled over onto my back again, not so easy when you’re in pain and it involves rolling your bottom up onto a pile of cushions, but eventually I was back in the position you requested, Max, my legs akimbo and with my arms once again stretched flat by my sides. Looking up at the mirror I could see Marie round behind me, spreading a huge bath towel on the floor below my head and undoing my pony tail so that my hair swung freely behind me, almost reaching the floor. 

She picked up the belt by its point and swinging the buckle in an arc slowly through the air, she moved to stand above me, standing straight and tall and naked with her legs apart on either side of my upturned face. I gazed upwards; her lovely cunt was just above me, dripping its sweet and aromatic excitement into my eager, open mouth. With my head trapped between her soft thighs, gazing up into her warm, moist cunt, which glistened wetly with her excitement, and trickled her fluids slowly into my mouth, I was in heaven.

I licked my lips clean and my heart leapt with excitement as I strained my neck muscles to lift my head and press my lips against her labia, my tongue circling inside her, teasing and tickling her hymen. (We really are still technically virgins, Max.) As if from a distance I felt my heart and my mind slip, slide, and fade away as I allowed myself to be simply overwhelmed by the sweet taste and the aroma and the soft sensation of her labia against my cheeks as I hungrily sought out her innermost moistness with my tongue.

I was in thrall to her body; my submission to her cunt was complete.

With my face pressed hard against the soft flesh at the top of her legs I was completely blind, and so I could only feel her actions as she gently swung the belt buckle across my body and let it fall directly onto my cunt, just to remind me of our purpose this Saturday morning. Then I felt her body press straight down on to my face as she spread her feet a little further, her straight legs parting above me, and I was suddenly inundated in the hot stream of her piss as she relaxed her bladder completely and flooded my mouth, my face, my hair with her gorgeous hot nectar. Marie, my beautiful lover was bestowing her most personal gift on me as she stood with her legs spread above me and simply pissed all over my face and head and shoulders.

I gulped down as much as I could, my breath snorting through my nose as I gasped for air and I pressed my lips deep inside her and licked her urethra as it emptied her bladder on to me; as she pissed more and more of her breakfast coffee into me and onto me and all around me. My heart pounding and my chest heaving as I swallowed, my throat opening and closing as the sweet token of her love flowed into my body, I accepted every drop of the offering of her love that I could, and eagerly sucked at her body to seek more and more of her gift as it simply streamed out of her.

All too soon it was over; I giggled as I resolved to attempt to persuade her to drink a whole pot of coffee next time, not just a couple of mugs, and suddenly the belt buckle flew from between my legs and the hard leather tip was cracking into my cunt again as my own piss-filled stomach sloshed inside me; remember, at breakfast I’d also drunk a lot of milky coffee, and combined with these countless mouthfuls of the contents of Marie’s bladder, I felt full!

“Twenty-four.”

I tensed myself and my punishment continued; then I felt myself relax and try to ease my body forward, able at last to seek out the perverted pleasure of the belt as it punched into me.

“Twenty-three.”

But now it was an easy pleasure to relax my body and let my legs flop further open of their own accord – there was no suggestion of them trying to close now - and to slip my hands down over my abdomen to grab my labia and quickly pull my lips apart, ready to receive the next stroke of my whipping deep inside my eager cunt. As the taste and aroma of Marie’s piss cleared from my mouth and nose – she had drenched me; it was dripping from my face and hair too - I could smell the sweet combined aromas of my own and Marie’s excitement. I was being whipped between the legs by my lover and my cunt was gaping and dripping, my juices spraying inside my thighs each time the belt punched into me!

“Twenty-two.”

I continued to strain my neck and shoulders to press my lips into Marie’s sweet cunt, revelling in the moistness of her body, partially in the hope of a final trickle of her piss finding its way on to my tongue, but mostly just for the sheer joy of kissing her between her legs; an act of joyous and loving submission to the beautiful French woman whose cunt I worship and who is truly my love and who is my life.

Even though I was lying at an unrealistically awkward angle, with my body bent backwards over the cushions so that my pubic mound was the highest part of me, I found myself straining to push myself upwards to meet the downward arc of the belt as each stroke entered me.

“Twenty-one.”

My whole body thrust forward with each stroke, my big, soft breasts surging on my chests with growing urgency.  I could feel a kind of numbness begin to spread out across my body from my cunt; with each stroke the flat of the belt was forcing my labia and my sex to accept a level of pain and excitement that was ever new and ever more intense.

This was a new experience, even for me.

“Twenty.”

The flat of the belt once again smacked deep inside my body, but Marie had changed target, and this time the tip also did its evil work; it flicked into me at the very last moment and hit me square on my perineum with a sharp brutality that jerked my head back so that I no longer kissed Marie between her legs but instead stared wide-eyed up between the cheeks of her arse at her anus, and beyond that, up the length of her naked back.

My mouth opened wide and I screamed, a deep throated howl of agony which echoed in my ears and filled my mind; a scream that seemed to go on for ever, until it was cut short by another wicked belt stroke between my legs, a second belt stroke which cracked against the tortured inner flesh of my labia and which hit my perineum with all the malevolent force of the wildly swinging belt behind it!

“Nineteen, and howl all you want, Cherie. I love to hear you scream!”

I had no choice. Another swinging blow came arcing into me, hitting me again inside my throbbing, swollen labia; between my legs. I screamed and shook my head in disbelief; I’ve never been in such agony, but I was still lifting my hips to meet the belt, and I became aware that Marie was also thrusting forward with her hips each time the belt hit me.

“Eighteen.”

I howled and cried continuously as I strained to lift my aching, abused cunt, offering it as a sacrifice to my beloved Marie’s perverted desire to hurt me and to love me and to degrade me and to torture me with the ultimate indignity of whipping inside me. I was desperate to lose all control and give her the delight of watching the frenzied, animal spasms of my pain and my orgasm and my wanton, utterly perverted depravity.

“Seventeen.”

I no longer had to hold my labia apart in order to receive my punishment. I could feel that the once soft, sweet petals of my dripping sex were now bruised beyond all recognition; they were no longer two soft, pink folds of sweet pink flesh. Marie’s punishment had transformed them into two hard ridges of pain, swollen and inflamed by the repeated impacts of the belt. I howled continuously in my pain and in my ecstasy!

“Sixteen.”

My cunt lips were so swollen by their repeated punishing blows that they spread open of their own accord; Marie had changed the shape of my body so that my cunt gaped open of its own accord between my parted labia, and so, with neither let nor hindrance, the belt punched its evil path of pain into me, freely and with nothing but it’s malice to drive it forward.

“Fifteen.”

But other things were happening inside my body too. I stopped screaming; I was gasping for breath in the pain-filled frenzy of my lust. My heart, pounding hard inside my chest, started to race like an express train; I could hear only the thud of my own blood in my ears.

“Fourteen.”

Marie clamped her naked thighs together, trapping my head between them; un-noticed in my pain, I had been writhing uncontrollably on the bed, my breasts slapping hard against each other as I lay there twisting my whole body from side to side in my confused efforts to avoid my torturer but also to offer myself up to her.

“Thirteen.”

Marie was hitting my cunt with all her strength and we both thrust our bodies forward in time with the hellish, regular rhythm of the belt, me to meet the stroke, she to deliver it!

And it hurt, Max, of course it fucking hurt, but deep in my tortured body, deep between my legs, deep within my abused cunt, I could feel the tension grow; a warm, sweet, tension which spread through me with every stroke of the belt between my legs and burned my body with a fire and a passion that crackled and spat and tormented me like a burning flame with every crack of the leather on my bruised and battered skin.

“Twelve.”

The pressure in my body was rising uncontrollably; I could feel it in my stomach and between my legs and in my bladder and deep in my whole being as I strained to lift my hips from their supporting cushions, strained to lift my hips as high as I could; making the ultimate offer of my delicious pain as a gift to my torturer, as a sacrifice to our love. I was a tormented, naked sacrifice to my perverted desire to be hurt and to be abused and to be humiliated. I was a naked object of lust to be tortured and punished and degraded for the pleasure of my lover.

“Eleven.”

I felt my rational consciousness slipping away; the agony of my pulverised and viciously beaten cunt turning to molten lead in my stomach as my sexual mucus exploded from my bruised and gaping cunt, the thick, aromatic fluid suddenly spraying out from me, drenching my thighs as the molten lead in my stomach rose up my throat and I once again threw my head back and screamed my pain and my passion and my love at the world and at my lover’s body as we both thrust ourselves forward and she struggled to imprison my struggling head between her soft, pale thighs.

She brought the belt arcing down once again on to my willing cunt.

“Ten.”

Now I was lost in a rising sea of my pain and my sweat, gasping for the breath that rattled in my throat and filled my lungs as I arched my back, my feet in their heels struggling for purchase as they at last found the floor and I forced my legs to lift my tortured body high in the air, desperate for the next stroke of my lover’s belt in the hope that it would be the stroke which pushed me into the urgent oblivion of my depraved orgasm.

“Nine.”

The belt searing into my bruised and swollen flesh, a glimpse in the mirror as Marie thrust herself forward showing me my labia, darkened to a rich wine-red, a deep, wine blue as the flying, arcing belt spread its wicked bruising across my softest parts and I felt my perineum split open and my blood cascade between my legs, soaking the length of my back, pouring all over my thighs and my legs, soaking me right down to my feet.

“Eight.”

I took a huge breath to scream my pain and my love and my panic and there was the aroma, not of blood, but of my own piss. In my mounting and uncontrollable excitement my thrashed and beaten body had lost all sense of decency and control and I could only lie there in my humiliation and despair as the belt smacked into me again and my bladder emptied itself all over me and all over the bed and I pissed all over the floor at my feet.

“Seven.”

My piss, not my blood was pouring from me. At that moment I didn’t care which, I only strained my legs to lift my flooding cunt up to meet the belt again; I grabbed at Marie’s thighs as they surged forward yet again and lifted myself bodily off the mattress, my face forcing its way between her thighs, and my back arched, and my gaping cunt thrusting to the ceiling in my all consuming pain and my throbbing desire to feel the belt whip into me again and again.

“Six”.

I had only a moment to savour the beauty of Marie’s perfect back and bottom as I again hauled myself bodily upwards so that my face disappeared into that perfect and beautiful, sweet, soft place between her legs. I glued my mouth to her cunt, and pushed my tongue hard against her hymen. She turned her toes inwards to expose her sweet rosebud anus to me and I buried my face buried deep in the mysterious, gorgeous, heavenly, dark cleft between her buttocks. She once again squeezed her thighs tightly together imprisoning my head and face against her most intimate places for her pleasure.

“Five.”

I howled in pain and dismay – only a few more strokes to go and I wasn’t there; I was so close but I wasn’t there. To have come so far and through so much and not achieve my goal, and not complete my promise to you, Max.

“Four!”

My body trembled and shook as the molten lead in my stomach gently slipped off its shelf and filled my body with exploding fragments of pain and dazzling light and my back arched and I thrust my feet down with all my strength, and even with my back bent almost double I forced my face even harder up into Marie’s sweet cunt and I felt my stomach ripple and my breasts surge on my chest as my orgasm slammed into me with the force of a thousand belt strokes to my cunt, and I wept for joy and for love as my sweet juices and my sweet piss dribbled their last between my legs and the molten lead erupted from my stomach and my throat as the bitter fluids of my tortured body trickled from my mouth to join the cascade of my tears.

Marie was swinging the belt high over her head and then down into me again and again, no longer counting, completely lost in her own depraved world as she thrust her hips forward as though fucking the air while the belt arced back and forth high over her head to crack unnoticed against the skin of her own back, before swinging it viciously forward once again deep into my tortured and frenzied cunt. She was whipping both of us in her depraved frenzy as her thighs lifted me bodily from the bed and the belt bit into our bodies over and over again as we abandoned ourselves to our beautiful and depraved orgasms.

Love hurts, but love is beautiful.

Marie had stopped whipping me.

Time and space meant nothing.

I was floating in space, naked and vulnerable and able only to submit to Marie’s wishes.

She lifted the belt again and it swung viciously into me. The pain was indescribable.

In a devastating moment of the ultimate sadistic excess, Marie had grasped the belt by its sex-soaked tip and had hit me on my labia, just once but with all her strength, with the belt-buckle. The metal arced glittering through the air and hit me square on my naked cunt, which, swollen and bruised and open and willing from the vicious attack it had just survived, wantonly and greedily accepted this last vicious gift, eagerly welcoming the hard, sharp metal of the buckle as it punched hard into my most delicate and fragile flesh. This was surely the ultimate attack on the soft, sweet core of my femininity.

I had willingly and lovingly accepted the gift of the most perfect and exquisite pain one woman could inflict on another, the gift of whipping her between her legs.

       *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        *        

Dear Max,

At this point I passed out, and so I am reliant on Marie’s version of what happened next.

I collapsed backwards on to the bed, my legs limp and my arms hanging loosely behind me so that my knuckles just scraped the floor. She opened her thighs slowly and my head slipped down between her legs until it was tipped backwards with my shoulders still supported on the mattress.

She threw the belt to the floor and carefully knelt beside me and kissed my mouth, slipping her fingers between my lips to make sure that I wasn’t choking on my tongue – I wasn’t, apparently – and so she stood up, bent over me, and even though she is not a big woman, lifted me to my feet (I have a vague memory of this) and more or less carried me through to the shower, where she laid my flat on my back and sprayed my bruised cunt with cool, not freezing water.

Were you to see me just now, Max, you might not find my body so attractive as I have previously described it. Most of my skin is as pale as ever, but over the past few days a huge dark bruise, which, as you might expect, is centred on my groin, has spread over a large part of the front of my body. At a glance it’s as though my pubic hair has suddenly spread from halfway down my thighs to my stomach. My abdomen is a rich, deep red and my labia are blue, almost black.

The orgasm I had for you was shattering, a life changing experience. The pain I experienced for you was of a magnitude I have never encountered before. I suppose it’s a simple equation; more pain, more…..!