Boudica Pt. 04

Louetta here. This is Boudica Part 04. Everybody mentioned in this story is eighteen or older.

So far in this series I've spent part of the summer after I graduated from American high school working in Amsterdam at a BDSM club where my Dutch female cousins Eefje and Dieuwke work. Wanting to enlarge my career as a nude photo and sketch model I started doing a strip tease routine at the club in addition to my duties as a door bunny. I hoped to get into video and film work and needed experience getting naked and performing in front of crowds, so stripping seemed ideal. Now, before I had to return to America, I wanted to try different kinds of BDSM-style scenes. Stripping I could do at home, but I knew of no legitimate places there where I could learn how to do bondage-type scenes, the kinds of things legitimate actresses would not do, at least not full out. This was the area in which I thought I could find my niche, as I had a strong but still very feminine body. But I needed to get experience. Here in Amsterdam I saw my chance.

Our BDSM club was really in two parts. One part was open to the public for a daily fee, the other part was private, members only. The public part consisted of a restaurant, two bars, a dancing floor, the main function room in which I stripped, and smaller rooms where various entertainments took place, music, singers and light BDSM. Eefje and Dieuwke frequently did some of the light BDSM work which included bondage demonstrations, tickling tied-up girls, same-sex and mixed-sex wrestling, light whippings, stretching girls on a rack, water tortures, modified crucifixions, tiger bench ordeals, hanging girls upside-down, other stuff I've forgotten. The only requirements to work were to be young, pretty, have a nice rack and be willing to get naked. The private part of the club had food and drink and the heavier BDSM stuff. There were no sex workers, however, and a conscientious staff of bouncers protected our virtue, though a lot of the private scenes included extensive sexual touching.

Being an employee I could get into the members-only section whenever I wanted, and was often approached to judge my interest in doing scenes. Everyone who worked there had seen me strip and admired my body, both for my conventional female attributes and the apparent physical toughness my swimming and weight training had given me. What remained to be proven is whether I had the mental toughness necessary to withstand what often amounted to torture, or close to it. Of course everything was voluntary and, as far as I could see, they followed all the accepted BDSM protocols for safety, with pre-agreed written descriptions of what scenes involved and medical and routine aftercare provided.

Very soon I became aware of the presence of people who were members of a German BDSM organization called Das Erwachen, which meant the awakening or arousal. There was no direct connection between Das Erwachen and our club, but many of the participants in the heavier BDSM scenes came from that organization. I was fascinated by the women. Most were young, pretty, had nice bodies and were tough as nails, as evidenced by their performance in the scenes I watched. I learned from the men I talked to that new members were carefully screened and, if they were not known to the local BDSM community, had to be trained and everyone had to undergo an apprenticeship during which their toughness had to be proved. Given the uniformly attractive appearance of the women, it also appeared, to me, that, at least for females, looks counted too.

My second day Eefje pointed out to me an Erwachen girl known as Tilly, though it was not clear that was her real name. Google tells us that Tilly means powerful little girl who is ready to take on the world as though she owns it, and it fit her very well. She was short, black hair not down to her shoulders, a dark tan, all over it turned out, very pretty with an athletic body. The model Erwachen girl. Eefje said she did the best scenes, cursing her torturers as they seemingly did what they pleased to her, and it seemed her scenes were largely ad-libbed. She was to perform at midnight on Friday: a whipping, which was one of my primary interests. Almost all whipping scenes in video and film are near farces, with the obvious exception of Lupita Nyong'o being whipped as Patsey in Twelve Years A Slave. I figured with work I could fill a void there, and as the name of this series is Boudica, who famously was stripped and whipped, you can figure I eventually did.

I started talking to the Erwachen guys about whipping. I told them I knew little about it, but had been whipped in order to join The Wenches group, as described in my story published in this forum. Of course I had been whipped by a girl and there was a large difference in strength between the sexes but, having seen me strip, they were still interested. Guess I was right about the looks qualification. They told me to watch Tilly's whipping and if I was still interested after seeing what she went through we could arrange a preliminary test, and if I showed promise they could design a training program I could execute back home in the US.

I looked forward to Friday with great anticipation. Finally, the day arrived and while I was working the front door I saw Tilly come in just before nine PM and head upstairs to the private part of the club. It was standard procedure for Erwachen scene participants to arrive early so they could be prepared properly beforehand. In this case, Tilly was taken in hand by her tormentors promptly at nine so she could be subjected to enough mistreatment to soften her up physically and mentally so by midnight she would be barely able to resist what was to be done to her. All of it seemed cruel to me at first, but later I came to understand how this kind of thing allowed the participants to get the full enjoyment from the scene. It helped simulate the real-life experience of a whipping where the victim would have been imprisoned and probably starved beforehand and left to ponder what was going to happen to them and what it would be like.

No doubt Tilly spent a lot of time preparing for her scene before she arrived for it. It was a good idea to hydrate well, but she would have eaten little, both to experience what a real victim would, but to ensure she would not throw up in the middle of her ordeal, due to pain or fear. She would have denied herself any kind of sexual release, possibly for days, as one of the primary reasons for doing a scene is to achieve the ultimate in erotic sensation. Being stripped publicly naked, treated roughly, feeling totally helpless and experiencing pain. It was part of the trip when upstairs three burly men took her in hand, tore off her clothes, handcuffed her wrists behind her and thrust her under a cold shower. Then, soaking wet, cold and shivering she was forced to her knees and pushed into a cage small enough so that she barely fit with her upper body bent over so her bosom was only a foot or so from her thighs and the top of her head scraped the top of the cage. There she stayed until midnight.

Later I learned how effective this treatment was. Caged, almost unable to move, doubled over in a cramped position, the hard wood of the cage bottom pressing against the front of her lower legs, her body soaking wet with cold water, she was left there for three hours later. Then cold and shivering, unable to stand up on her own, not mind walk, by now hungry and thirsty she was taken to the lavatory where she was allowed to pee, her hands still manacled behind her. Then she was forced to walk on her own to the studio where she would be beaten before two hundred eager onlookers, mostly men. Eefje, Dieuwke and I watched in a kind of horror as this beautiful young girl was pushed stark naked up to the platform where she would be abused. She knew, of course, what she had volunteered to have done to her, but she hardly looked like a willing victim standing there nude, hands cuffed behind her, her clothes gone who knows where, her hair hanging wet in her eyes. All 155 cm, 50 kg of her.

The studio air was hot and stifling, heavy with cigarette smoke and the smell of German beer. She was pushed up the four steps that lead to the top of the wooden platform in front of her and the crowd cheered as she rose into plain view, her naked, brown body now shimmering in the heat. It was then I noticed her all over tan, acquired not in Germany, I later learned, but in the heat of the South of France. She was only half German, the rest French, and sometimes during her ordeal she screamed or pleaded in French instead of German. Her tormentors pushed her down to her knees, already bruised from her time in the cage. They held her while her manacles came off and her wrists were bound tightly with a kind of rawhide cord, pulled very tight and thin enough to hurt. Then her arms were bound just above her elbows, but left so her upper arms were at her sides, and the rawhide that bound them could be seen by the crowd. She looked her captors straight in the eye as she was bound.

Next, her feet were pulled out from under her to either side so she was no longer up on her knees which were also spread apart, and with her feet spread even further her bum fell to the platform. Then a length of rope was tied around each thigh a few centimeters below her open crotch and then the end of each rope in turn was tied around the corresponding ankle so she couldn't move from that spot. Her hair was gathered behind her head and tied in a ponytail with her still wet bangs hanging down half over her eyes. She made no move to resist what was being done to her soft brown body. At this point for her this was a purely sexual experience, and she felt the rising fire inside of her that started more in her tummy than in her cunt and grew into the familiar feelings of desire between her legs.

She saw the boys in the crowd staring, and enjoyed the hunger in their eyes as they devoured the sight of her naked body. Naked and helpless, but untouchable. She tried to concentrate on the power of the secret garden that lay between her thighs and her mind was filled with confusing emotions. Something that should be frightening was happening to her, but she was enjoying every minute of it. Something that should have been bad felt incredibly good. Being there was almost more than she could handle. The reality was that she was stripped naked in front of lots of people. Was a girl supposed to enjoy that? Later I found that I did, and so did she. It was part of a scene, part of the experience for people who were tortured in real life. It should be devastating to be experiencing that, to be tied up and whipped. But it wasn't.

Standing there watching, remembering my initiation into The Wenches, I could appreciate how she felt. You think: of course, I couldn't possibly be really whipped. But then you are. Just hearing the crack of that thing behind you, having to react with your body. With each lash you get weaker and weaker. I saw her grow quiet. She was getting herself ready. It was an exercise of surrender. I know when it happened to me I concentrated on the crowd. I spotted a bunch of guys and girls in the first row and kept my eyes glued on them all through it. Especially the boys, so I could revel in watching them watch me hanging naked a few feet away from them. I wondered what the boys thought of my body. Whether they wanted it. I wondered if they enjoyed watching me being done like this. I wondered what the girls thought. I wondered what they thought of me for wanting this to be done to me. I wondered if they resented me for having my beautiful young body, willingly displayed, before their boyfriends.

I wondered if the girls wanted the boys to do this to them. I wondered if they were all as turned on as much as I was. I envisioned them going home, desperately horny, quickly stripping and getting fucked for hours. I looked at the boys around me and Eefje and Dieuwke and knew that right now, watching what they were doing to Tilly's beautiful young body, willingly displayed, we wanted to go home and get fucked for hours.

Finally, the time had come. A noose was placed around Tilly's neck and the loose end thrown over a beam and tied off so her head was pulled up tight, almost strangling her so she could not bend over to shield her upper body from the whip. I watched her transfixed, naked and helpless, no possibility of escape, no possibility her screams would be answered, in some smoky room full of men in some building in some foreign country. I couldn't imagine how she felt.

But then again I could. She was afraid. Afraid of what was going to be done to her, how much it would hurt, how long it would go on, where it would hurt, where would they hit her, on her breasts, on her tummy, between her thighs, on her genitals, on her bottom. Would the rope around her neck pull her further up, make it impossible to breathe, put their hands around her neck, pull her hair, gag her mouth. Nothing was written down, nothing was out of bounds, there was no time limit, no safe word, no one to interfere with what they did to her. Her mouth went dry as the desert, her heart beat faster in her bare chest, her breathing became labored, she felt the sweat under her arms, beneath her breasts, on her tummy, between her thighs. She began to feel like she was paralyzed, her nervous system was so flooded with the threat to her body she couldn't move. Her mind began to stop working.

One of her torturers approached her from the side. Standing on the floor next to the platform on which she was tied his head was a few inches above hers. He brought his hand up and it was level with her bare breasts. Gently he started caressing her naked body, starting with her bosom and slowly heading down over her tummy until his hand disappeared between her legs. Her nipples hardened like rocks at his touch and at the thought of the pain she was now going to feel. Her pussy moistened, her tummy felt funny, she felt the familiar tightness inside her cunt and she wanted it. Then she saw the implement he held in his hand, a black curved stiff rubber blade about 20 centimeters long, attached to a metal handle, not a whip at all. No doubt she had seen one before. With one hand he grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head back. Then with the other he hit her hard across one of her breasts with the hard rubber blade.