tagBDSMFirst Whipping

First Whipping


Neon signs in the middle of day. Now the glass-tube truth. A bunch of wires. Tired tape. Common, urban dirt. One of the signs went "XXX!!!". Another one, "Toys Here for Sale!"

The building was a simple plywood box. Some architect's version to the plain paper bag.

In a car parked across the street, a woman turned to a man and asked, 'That's it?'

'That is the place', the man replied.

Simone made a face like smelling something bad. Then she made an announcement. 'I am not going in there. Not in this lifetime.'

Brian sighed. He turned to Simone.

'Look, you'd probably enjoy it.' A low and sure and confidential tone. 'Ambience of a locker room. A locker room for team testosterone. A bunch of little males failing to hide... their enthusiasm.'

Simone considered this and touched her hair. 'One hears the voice of experience.'

Brian turned a becoming shade of pink. Like a lobster with glasses. 'Not exactly. Been there once. It was sort of a dare.'

'Well I dare you now.'

'And I dare you.'

'I am not going in there.' A very final tone of voice.

To this Brian courageously replied, 'I will not venture in that establishment alone.'

Simone giggled, 'Yes you will.'

A poignant pause here occurred.

'Oh shit... .'

'Buy a riding crop.'


Simone lifted her line-of-beauty eyebrows. 'You forgot some extremely important verbiage.'

'Yes Mistress.'

The man went shopping.

It took twenty minutes. He returned with a box like a box for roses. Brian offered the box to his owner. 'Mistress... '

She jumped him. Simone pinned him down. Capture. Trapped him. Arms and weight. She held him like a fluffy toy. She squeezed like a toy. And then, 'Open your mouth my little slave.' A woman's tongue can penetrate a man. Penetrate far.

Simone sat back. Sat there like she hadn't even shaken up the world.

And started the car.


The first law of deadening is put lots and lots and lots and lots of soft and light and flexible objects and no short circuits between the source of noise and the curious ears. The second law of deadening is to not really care, if the ears win.

Simone's bedroom was full of soft, light, flexible objects. Pillows. Bedspreads. Comforters. Rugs. A couple of ratty old beanbag chairs. The friendly face of a torture chamber. And, in the her words, 'If anybody asks, "What was all that racket?" I'll smile and tell 'em I was flogging my boyfriend.' She grinned.

Then she stopped grinning, 'Are you sure you want to do this?'

Brian blinked. He had thought about this day a lot. A lot. 'I want all the world for you. But I can't get all the world. Store is out. Always will be out. But the romantic in me does not believe this. So I want at least a part the world - the part that is me - to be for you. So I'll let do whatever you want and do anything you say. Or to put less grandly, I'm a submissive guy and I love you.' A pause. A pause as they both considered these words.

'I love you Brian.'

Brian was embarrassed and continued quickly, 'Of course in real life my giving has a memory leak. Or something. Some flaw. Some minor - maybe not so minor - flaw or set of flaws. I want to try however.' A brief hesitation. 'I feel like an astronaut. I'm about to ride a rocket. This blast off is something I will always remember. Always. Forever. Or 'til they stick me in the ground. But in point of fact, I am scared shitless. All that rocket fuel.' Another pause. 'To answer your question, yes I want this. Yes. Yes. Yes.'

Simone nodded.

'You must understand something.' She went on slowly. She carefully enunciated individual words. She looked Brian in the eye as she spoke. 'I will hurt you. You will suffer. I will give you agony so that I can have fun.'

Simone kissed Brian with exaggerated gentleness.

Then she stepped away and let a minute pass. Then, 'Strip.'

Her slave quietly and hurriedly and completely undressed.

Simone pointed down.

Brian knelt. He lowered his eyes. He was careful to notice how the floorboards met.

Simone inspected her property. Her slave. Walked back and forth. Walked back and forth. Slowly - patiently - back and forth.

Simone circled. Examined his front. She examined the front and examined the back. She examined each side of her slave. Of her slave. She ordered her slave to assume positions which made body orifices vivid in her gaze.

Brian did not make any moise. He was not allowed to make any noise.

Simone stopped pacing. She put her left foot forward.

'Kiss it,' she said

Brian obeyed. His obedience began with the toes.

'Tongue between the toes.' A soft, stern voice. A soft and stern and lovely voice.

Brian did what Simone desired. Sounds of acquiesce were the only sounds in the universe to them.

Simone commanded her property and slave to lick the heels of her naked feet. She watched him do her will. Her will.

'Stop. Lift your eyes my slave. Brian, look at me.'

She was beautiful. Beautiful. Like beacon. Like a star.

'Get the whip.'

Brian crawled across to the dresser. And retrieved the cardboard box. He began opening... .

'Wait. Present it. Present the whip from on your knees.'

He stopped. Knelt. Took the top off the box. Then, like a priest, Brian held it up high.


Then Simone took the whip. Simone held the leather whip. Balance. Wrist strap. A few slashes through the air. Slashes through air. Brian saw the motion. And he heard it.

'Lay across the pillow. Hold your bottom up and out. Close your eyes. And remember two things: Its only pain and it is for me.'

Brian obeyed Simone. The whipping suddenly began.

Simone's expression was not full of kindness. She was cold and cruel and calm. And above. Her lips were a line on her smooth and lovely face.

Brian felt her passion in every blow. Every single blow. The intensity he suffered was the intensity of her lust. The intensity of Simone's love. Despite this and knowing this, Brian made a little moan.

Simone found more power. And gave it to her slave.

Sweat on both their bodies.

Simone hit with all her might.

Brian twisted. Helpless moan. He made himself steady, but Simone did not wait.

She grabbed his neck. She clenched her teeth. She beat and beat and beat her slave. Brian created a few warm tears.

Another stroke. Another stroke. Another stroke. Again. Then she stopped.

'Brian, on your knees.'

He rose stiffly to his feet and fell loudly to his knees. Simone leaned over and kissed her possession.

'Watch me slave.'

Simone touched her body.

Simone's pleasure - the energy and the happiness that filled her - that filled her - that made her eyes like morning snow and made her cheeks like newborn fire - entranced the kneeling Brian. Entranced the kneeling man.

In one of the thirty thousand paradoxes of female domination, he had never felt so powerful in his life. And never felt so proud.

Simone ordered Brian to masturbate for her. 'I'll decide if you may come. I will tell you when and if.'

Afterwards Simone lay awake as Brian slept. She placed a leg across his waist and hooked an arm around his neck. Simone embraced Brian like a life ring in a hellish storm. She played with his nipples and caressed his hair. Then Simone caressed his eyebrows. Then she fell asleep.

(c) Copyright 2002. All rights reserved.

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