The Willing Flesh Bk. 01

The Love Of My Life

Willing Flesh

Book One - Steve & Sarah - 1991

50 lashes

Steve wakes one morning to find a letter addressed to him from Sarah? The shorter of the three tales from a couple of inexperienced bdsm practitioners.

Book Two - Steve, Sarah & Jackie - 1996

80 lashes

Six years later and joined by our mutual lover Jackie, Sarah again finds herself restrained, this time facing eighty lashes as a sadistic streak in Jackie comes out.

Book Three - Sarah and Jackie - 1998

50 lashes

Two years since Sarah's last whipping and Jackie's delighted to arrange another session, this time with no Steve around, maybe a guest or two instead.

***

If you have read book two or book three of The Willing Flesh please feel free to skip straight to Chapter Three.

Chapter One: Introduction and History

I've always enjoyed writing and have kept a diary on and off throughout my rather fun life. A few years back I wrote our life story up and self published it to some small success as a romance novel. However the more kinky side to our forty year relationship doesn't really fit into a romance novel and thus I have collated these three events here.

Sarah is my soul mate, best friend, lover and wife. We've been together forever and have shared an amazing life that has also included a quite varied sex life--and we still do, we've explored swingers, swaps, BDSM, naturism, asphyxiation, whippings and more. We're both voyeurs and exhibitionists, and Sarah, with her higher sex drive, initiated most of our more adventurous experiences. At some point in our mid twenties Sarah discovered that she was a part time masochist.

I didn't understand these desires for pain and humiliation (I get the humiliation, can't do the pain) but I enjoyed it, it was just another amazing thing my woman does. Her way of completely giving up control and giving herself 100%. I understood it with time. Sarah is an outgoing confident person who likes to keep active, walks through life turning heads and arranging this, that and the other, for all of us. She's my queen. However on three occasions she gave up control.

Over ten years, (that's important) we had three sessions, two hundred lashes in total plus various humiliatory exercises and hand slaps. I lashed her fifty times and Jackie, our friend and lover whipped her the other one hundred fifty times. We will come to Jackie later.

Sarah is gorgeous and has been ever since I met her. Long thick brown hair, a model's face with a mouth that always seems to be smiling. At 5'8" she radiates confidence, humour, and has a body that turns heads. Forty years later, she's still all of that and I've never desired another woman despite having had sex with other ladies all orchestrated by my horny wife.

One always remembers "firsts." The first time this, that or the other happened and an early example of Sarah's openness happened in the summer of 1986 when we were sixteen. Two of my mates, a friend of Sarah's and myself had headed to the beach as a group, set up our blankets and then relaxed. Sarah stripped to a sexy white bikini and I got my first kick seeing her with so little on in front of my friends. I followed suit stripping to my swimming shorts whilst my two mates just rolled their trousers up, took their shirts off and tried not to be obvious about ogling Sarah.

After a few minutes of chit chat and sun bathing Sarah sat up, removed her bikini top and lay down again without saying a word. She had a nice small handful at that time, gorgeous little nipples and I saw the look on my friends face as they noticed her, they didn't know where to look. I didn't acknowledge it and Sarah spent the rest of the afternoon topless. I found it a terrific turn on, seeing her boobs on display for my friends to enjoy. I was never jealous, I knew they were my boobs and after one of my mates made a, "Great pair of tits Sarah," comment that made us all laugh and eased into Sarah's topless-ness.

I was surprised at Sarah's openness in front of friends but given she had grown up a single child to a wonderful mother, nudity was commonplace at home and she carried that trait on into her adult life. She wanted to be topless on the beach so she did. If it had just been us she would have stripped fully.

Each of the three 'events' we did were filmed and we have watched the tapes back many times, it's nice having our own private porn collection of ourselves throughout the years and it's fun to look back on yourself from twenty years ago fucking. Re the beatings it amazes me the amount of pain she took and how she would never say no, stop or red. At this first point we were both twenty one and sex was a daily occurrence, sometimes more. Sarah had been fucked by a guy at a naturist spa a couple of years back as I'd watched on plus we had taken a couple of naturist holidays, one of which was very friendly with some others... Sarah's body matured to full super model by the time she was seventeen and her dress style had become very liberating with my approval.

Prior to the internet we subscribed to a swingers magazine which led to all kinds of wonderful naughty adventures. We used to buy porn video tapes via mail order, a mixture of tame and brutal, generally bad VHS copies. We had also attended a whipping at a swingers club where a lady was whipped sixty times and a guy thirty two. I can't recall the amount but they got money for each stroke they took and a bonus amount every time they reached a tenth. It was savage but fascinating. Each of them was caned and the strikes to my mind were bloody hard. Of course they were able to say their safe word at any point to give up.

We were both turned on by bdsm (not really understanding what the acronym stood for in our early twenties) but didn't really introduce this into our own sex lives other than occasional bum slaps, hair pulling or pinning down, until one morning I woke up and spied a letter addressed to husband on the bedside table.

Before I get to that though I realised on one of the many many early drafts of this book that this was just coming across as a series of cruel savage beatings (which to a degree they are). I needed Sarah's input to justify completing this book. Now many years later she is open to discussing exactly what she felt and why she did it and has given me her input throughout. Please remember this is a collection of three beatings but they took place over ten years.

Please also remember this was in the nineties, pre internet as mentioned. We both had little knowledge of bdsm and certainly knew nothing of safe practices, we just went in fast and hard.

***

Chapter Two: Sarah Speaks

I was born extremely lucky!

I have a fantastic Mum who is my best friend and who gave me a wonderful childhood full of love and support. My Mums gorgeous, a petite cutie who is forever changing her hair style, even nowadays. She gave me her looks and as I grew in body and confidence I became aware I was above average attraction, which pleased me because my husband is gorgeous. I met my husband / soul mate at such a wonderful age, married him at sixteen and we have the most amazing of lives.

I've always had a high sex drive and as I grew I realised I enjoyed being noticed by others, it would give me a little thrill, a tingle within. Steve enjoyed me wearing low cut revealing dresses, turning heads from time to time. There's very little we haven't done sexually, most of the more unusual stuff at my instigation. I first discovered orgasm by accident when I was twelve and couldn't believe the sensation running through my body. When I told Mum she explained it to me and encouraged me to enjoy my body. So I did.

Steve came along two years later and I seduced him not knowing what I was doing. He exploded within me that first time in about ten seconds! But it didn't take him long to get the hang of it and from then to now there are few days we haven't made love.

Regarding the nature of this book, I instigated the whippings. I've had three phases in my life where I really wanted to be controlled, humiliated, beaten, whipped and tormented by my lover(s). I don't know where these desires came from but back in our teens we used to come across porn videos and one in particular stuck with me.

Steve and I were with a group of friends at someone's house and a porn tape was put on. This was the mid eighties, a VHS or Betamax tape, not the best quality. What they called video nasties back in the day. Various scenes on the tape but the one that stuck with me was of a woman who was tied up--hands and feet--to an outdoor cattle stand. (There were actual cows standing behind her mooing!)

Some guy ripped off her dress, yanked her knickers down, and then bullwhipped her. One, two, three, four, five--and on it went. I didn't count, but I reckon it was around fifty to sixty strikes all over her back, bum and legs. I sat in amazement at this beating, how could she take this? One of the guys in the room kept breaking my admiration for her with "hit the bitch," comments as we all watched this woman scream and howl in agony.

The whipper didn't pause, he just kept whipping -- and hard. How could she take it, had she volunteered or was this some kind of illegal beating? I never found out but over time, we came across more bondage videos and I began to understand the sub/dom dynamic. Not just a brutal whipping, but the control behind it. The mind games.

It played in my mind over the years, Steve had never hit me but around a year before our first session, I had encouraged him into some hair pulling, light bum and face slaps, all of which we both enjoyed, the thrill of my husband hitting me was unreal. Over time I encouraged him to be rougher. I wanted him to enjoy my suffering as he pounded me whilst pulling on my hair and slapping my ass.

The fantasy of pain and humiliation in my head became more frequent that year, more and more I was imagining being bound by my husband and lashed randomly all over my body, hard, bloodied. To totally give up to my Steve for one night, no control for me, for him to hurt me. How much could I take? How far would he go? Could I trust him?

Actually--yes--I knew I could trust him. But could I take the whipping? I really wanted to, I'd never been whipped before but more and more I wanted him to humiliate me, tie me and beat me. But I didn't want to tell Steve openly of my feelings, I wanted him to just know.

So when Steve first whipped me, I felt intense pain--but also extreme surrender, total love and an amazing feeling I can't describe. I trusted him. I had my safe word and I was just about to say it after the first strike exploded on my ass when the second strike came and took the word away. And then I saw his face in the mirror, smiling, enjoying my pain and when the third whip came down I felt a massive surge of emotion. All in one.

Pain. Love. Hate. Betrayal. Trust.

I embraced the pain, I enjoyed it, each strike willed with power and love.

The fear in my stomach the second time--with them both--was tremendous. I knew more about what I was getting into this time, how much it would hurt, especially with Jackie joining us. Walking into the gym that evening I felt light-headed, scared, humiliated and worthless as I allowed myself to be restrained by them both. I also felt exhilaration as I was tied up, helpless.

I'm proud that I took, in total, two hundred lashes from them. Well--mostly Jackie!

And I never used the safe word. My body was a bleeding mess after each occasion but I also felt high and even more love for ages after. And I'm so glad that none of us feel guilt over what they did to me and what I asked for.

Now, almost thirty years later, we still use these memories as sexual fantasy from time to time and I sometimes fantasise about doing it again... but no. I don't desire that pain any longer. If I could jump straight to the end bit though, whipped bruised body and the aftercare I would!

It all happened in 1991, 1996 and 1998. All with my permission.

We've been married almost forty years.

Honest all the way.

***

Chapter Three: The Letter

I was dozing in bed early morning around 8.40am. Sarah had left for work around ten minutes ago giving me her usual goodbye peck as she left, leaving the sweet smell of her perfume lingering in the bedroom. I rolled over at some point and saw the letter on the bedside cabinet, propped up, white envelope with Husband written on it on Sarah's hand writing. Rubbing my eyes to full wakefulness I sat up, opened the letter to read.

Dear Husband,

Tonight when I get home I offer you my body. Do with it what you want. Whip me, hurt me, control me.

I've put some items in the gym cupboard for you if you choose to. If I say Red, please stop immediately and untie me.

Punish me for fucking that guy. And how unashamedly slutty I behaved at that naturist hotel a few months back.

I give you my body. I expect to get it back punished, knowing I have fulfilled my punishment and you have enjoyed my punishment.

If you want to go ahead with this please ignore me when I get home and I will meet you in the gym thirty minutes later. If you don't want to do this then of course just say.

I love you husband so much. I trust you with my life and I trust you to punish me with what I can take, please enjoy punishing me.

Sarah.

P. S. Really really love you.

Wow. That gave me food for thought. What to do. The idea turned me on, Sarah and I had had sleepy morning sex around 4am before both going back to sleep and as a young twenty one year old my cock was nearly always stiff, as it was again as I considered Sarah's request.

The last year or so had seen an increased roughness in our sex life, not on a regular basis but it became more frequent as Sarah loved being fucked from behind with me pulling on her hair or slapping her ass. Sometimes I'd pin her arms behind her back as we fucked and we did get rougher as time progressed, but we never used any belts or whips.

So the thought of whipping Sarah like I had seen at the swinger club appealed to me and the more I thought about it the more my imagination ran riot. I remembered the woman at the club who had taken sixty lashes, it had been a mixture of front and back and when she said her safe word on the sixtieth strike, and then just stood there limply, her body a selection of whip marks and a handful of cuts. I transferred that image to Sarah's body.

I got up not bothering to get dressed and headed downstairs to the kitchen for coffee. Saula, our housekeeper said "Morning," and was nonplussed by my nudity. She was around thirty and came from Lithuania. Her English was somewhat stilted but she was friendly, open minded and trustworthy. She had a slim body, blonde hair and a pretty face. If I wasn't always smitten with my wife I would definately have enjoyed fucking Saula.

When Sarah had interviewed her for the housekeeping job she had explained we were mostly nude at home which Saula was fine with. As I walked into the kitchen she smiled and put the kettle on knowing my morning routine. Coffee. We made small talk as the kettle boiled, I always felt good being naked in front of her, my cock always erect in those days. I would never do or suggest anything sexual but I could feel her eyes on my cock from time to time.

Saula would be finishing today around five but I told her to head off around four as Sarah and I were having a little private event. I of course didn't want her or anyone else around if I was going to whip Sarah. I laughed in my mind. I'd already made the decision I was going to do this.

Taking my coffee I wandered downstairs to our basement gym. A nice sized room with three walls lined with mirrors and a doorway on the fourth wall that led to a small shower and toilet room. In the gym we had padded mats all over and various gym equipment and benches littered around the room. I opened the cupboard and pulled out a variety of implements that Sarah had placed. I recognised some and wondered when she had bought the others.

A blindfold, a short wooden cane, handcuffs x 2, four adjustable ropes with velcro restraints at each end. A long flex of wire. A riding crop. A leather slapper and a whip with a long handle which tapered off to a thin end that made an evil sound when swished. And lastly a table tennis bat. I took a few swings with each wondering and imagining. Striking Sarah and seeing the marks appear. I was feeling really horny, cock fully erect and wondered whether to go back to the kitchen and start playing with myself in front of Saula.

Christ my mind, I thought, Saula had seen Sarah and I fuck a few times around the house and that was another turn on for us pair of exhibitionists. First time she had come into the lounge mid fuck and quickly apologised, but as she turned to leave Sarah said it was ok, and started a brief conversation with her as we fucked. Next time Saula found us fucking she stood to one side openly watching. But no, to go and play with myself in front of her would be too much.

Instead I lied on the gym floor and wanked, stroking my cock hard and fast, pulling my foreskin down hard, whacking my balls with my wrist as I wanked imagining whipping Sarah. It didn't take long until I felt intense relief and shot sperm high up and over myself. I went limp for a while but as the day progressed I realised my imagination was getting very strong. I worried I might go too far. At the swingers club they were taking a whipping for money. Sarah wasn't. She was doing this because she wanted to and because she wanted me to enjoy her pain.

I looked around the gym looking for the best place to tie Sarah up. We had a weight training station with bars that you pull down from above. I increased the weights to maximum, something Sarah nor I could lift, therefore it would be a good anchor with the restraints attached. I decided for her feet I would use some heavy bell bar weights to keep her legs in position and parted. Oh parted of course. That was one of the big images in my head all day. Sarah tied up, legs spread. Vulnerable, exposed.

How many times do I hit her though? was my question. I needed a limit. Sixty like that lady had taken or was that too much. But if I wanted her body criss crossed in whip marks then sixty? Or maybe fifty? I didn't know. Then it occurred to me, I'll let Sarah choose, I will happily whip away until she says her safe word. Red. That worked in my mind, she had control over how many times I would whip her.

I had no idea then that Sarah would never use her safe word...

The day went slowly as my heart pounded looking forward to her arriving home. I set up two video cameras I had in the gym. Both bulky and awkward with pitiful battery life's and 60 minute Hi8 tapes. Good quality at the time. I liked the idea of filming the evening and watching back with Sarah another day, I wondered how she would feel about being filmed like this.

I popped the video cameras on tripods and connected both to the mains electricity. Once that was done I decided to reply to Sarah's letter in a rather cruel way.

***

Dear Wife.

Thank you for this marvellous opportunity. Your body will be a mess of whip marks and blood when I have finished with you.

You have thirty minutes to get ready and I want you in the gym, wearing the dress and underwear I have left on the bed for you. No makeup. When you come down stairs you will tell me you are ready and will go straight to the gym.

You will stand by the weights machine where you will see the restraints. You will put a restraint around each wrist and ankle tightly and you will then wait quietly until I am ready.

Your code word is Red. And you will be untied. And I will be sad. You can use Amber also if you are a baby and need some time to recover.

Unless you say Red you are not to speak unless spoken to. If you do speak, the next whip will be harder.

I look forward to beating you darling wife.

Steve

P. S. Really love you too.

***

Chapter Four: The Beating

Saula disappeared just after 4pm leaving us a clean and tidy home with a well stocked fridge. Sarah arrived home some fifteen minutes early and I grabbed the letter and waited for her to come through the front door which she did clutching a pile of exercise and library books. As always she looked amazing in her work clothes which were always prim and proper but she still made them look sexy.

As she struggled with her pile I stood by the kitchen door not helping her as I usually would. She looked at me and then put her pile down on the hallway table. She looked back at me saying nothing. "Take this upstairs and read it." I said coldly. She came over, took the letter from me and headed upstairs without a word.

I looked at the clock. 4.20pm. Half an hour to go. The heating was on full in the whole house as always, naturists love a warm house and I'd put an extra heater down into the gym and switched that on earlier. It should be warm, toasty and sweaty down there. After what seemed ages but was exactly thirty minutes, Sarah came down the stairs wearing the bright yellow summer dress I had left out and said "I'm ready," as she walked down to the gym.

I gave her a minute to get ahead and then followed her to the gym where she sat under the weight machine facing the mirrored wall and attaching the velcro restraints to her ankles and then wrists. She pulled them tight and then stood up, saying nothing, head bowed facing down. Expectantly.

I walked to her, amused she had just put herself into restraints and I finished off the job attaching the other end of the restraints to the overhead bar making sure to pull it tight and restrict her movement as much as possible. Happy with that I restrained her legs. The bell bar weights way too heavy for her to budge and after attaching both her ankles I pulled the weights apart causing Sarah's legs to stretch wide.

Now bound tight in her cute summer dress I turned on the two video cameras and checked all was working. One camera filming Sarah's front and the other from behind. I then switched off all the lights just leaving the ones above Sarah on. I would have preferred candle light but needed proper light for the cameras. Sarah remained still and silent as I went about my business. Finally ready I stood behind her and admired her.

I loved that pretty dress, it was yellow and pink with floral patterns, really girlie and had buttons all the way down at the front. I pulled the dress up and was pleased to see she was wearing the silver g string I had left out, a narrow string running between her buttocks offering no coverage and the front see through, a very small triangular piece just covering her vulva.

Holding her dress up I hit her buttock once with my hand, a hard slap. Sarah remained motionless. I hit again and she barely reacted. Just silence. And my hand was already stinging. I let the dress drop and walked to her front, she had the two top buttons undone and I yanked at them ripping the dress open sending a few buttons flying and exposing her tits, covered with her see through matching bra.

Much as I loved the dress I enjoyed ripping it and did so by pulling it open so her front body was fully exposed. I yanked at her bra none too gently trying to pull it off without undoing it. I gave up and undid it whilst looking intently at Sarah as I decided what to use first. The cane? I walked around her back and yanked on her dress again pulling it off her, ripping it as I got it off her arms. I let the tattered dress fall to the floor and admired Sarah, now naked bar her g string.

I teased with the cane on her bum and told her I was going to start on her ass and do it in batches of six. "Remember your safe word?" I asked.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"What is it?"

She didn't answer, being defiant, even now, tied up. I brought the cane down with a thwack and was surprised at Sarah's lack of reaction as the cane wobbled across her right ass cheek. I thought that had been hard.

I brought it down again, slightly above the last strike and was pleased that this time she did at least let out an audible gasp as she fidgeted with her restraints. A red mark was forming from that last hit and I brought the cane down again, maybe harder and Sarah gasped again. I watched her face in the mirror and felt a massive surge of love, power and control for her. I was already enjoying this.

I then gave the cane an upwards blow catching her below both bum cheeks. The squeal from her as I hit drove me on. I brought the cane across the middle of her back, not as hard but pleasing to see her strain against the ropes in obvious pain. That was five. "Six," I said and brought the cane down on the back of her thighs. Her legs trembled as she let out her first cry of pain.

"What's your safe word?" I demanded admiring my handy work. Six blows, four of them had left marks, a long cane line across her back. I found it beautiful.

Sarah didn't answer me and just panted. Christ she is taking this I thought. Why won't she say the safe word?

I pulled on her g string from behind causing it to rub hard against her skin pulling it up and rubbing against her pussy lips. She tried to wriggle away but of course couldn't. I pulled it harder causing her to tiptoe with a squeal. "What's your fucking safe word you silly bitch," I demanded again and was met with similar silence only interjected with her squeals as I tugged further on her g string.

I was getting cross, ok, bitch. I thought. Then I wondered why I was calling her a bitch. Because I'm getting into this? Fine, you won't say your safe word. Tits next. I moved to the front of her and whacked and whacked and whacked six times with the cane. I aimed for the fleshy parts of her breasts trying to avoid her nipples to start with, I did downward, upwards and sideway strokes hitting the fleshy sides of her tits as Sarah began to cry out with each strike. "Say your safe word." I said again as I hit her tits for the sixth time, a beautiful blow, my hardest so far which caught her across both breasts catching each nipple with the blow.

God she screamed at that.

I gave her time to regain herself and then carried on. Amazed at what she was taking and getting crosser that she wouldn't say her safe word. I caned the front of her upper thighs six times and struck her across the vulva with two of the blows. Each cane mark was designed to be in a different spot, not to do serious damage but I must admit a thirst came over me and I was pulling the cane further back, getting a better swing, more power going into each blow. The first cut came on the underside of her right tit. Eighteen strikes and her body was already littered with cane marks.

She just hung there, regaining her composure in between strikes and standing up tall again, ready for the next. I took my wife firmly by her chin and stared into her eyes which were wet but she met my gaze and said nothing. My other hand went down and played with her pussy gently for a few seconds before I slapped it hard. The look of shock in her eyes as her body arched in pain. I gave her time to recover. Still no safe word from her.

I walked to the table of whips and exchanged the cane for the riding crop. I'd seen this in use at the swingers club, more precise targeting of a body part and hopefully equally as painful as a cane. I walked behind her again making sure to keep out of the way of the video cameras where possible and brought the riding crop down on Sarah's ass. I started close and with each strike brought the crop further and further back giving me more powerful blows. I struck fast, one after the other, only two or three seconds in between each blow. No time for her to recover and I loved the sound of her continual crying intermixed with screams.

I tried to avoid striking the same place twice but by now I had already hit most of Sarah's ass so second and third strikes were inevitable, although when I did cut her I made sure not to hit that area again. Sarah cried and sobbed continually as the six riding crop blows hit her fast and hard. I felt amazing, whipping my wife like this and I felt amazing that she was taking this, allowing this. But a part of me worried that I was enjoying her pain too much and I kept saying to her. "Safe word." Never a response.

I had now whipped her twenty four times. How far do I go? I kept asking myself as I walked around Sarah again running the crop across her body teasing, scaring. She flinched when I gently struck her face cheek with it, fear in her eyes. Her naked body was trembling but the sobbing had stopped and she stood tall. "Six to the back now." I smiled looking into her eyes pleased when she caught my gaze and held it. This would be thirty, maybe that would be enough?

Watching her face in the mirror I chose empty areas of her back and with the riding crop brought it down six times, again building up the power of the strikes as I went along, harder and harder. By the time I had finished she had an extra four red marks across her back each growing in intensity as the pain soared through her body. Her left bum cheek quivered in a way I can only describe as gorgeous, her arms pulling at the restraints. Her screams with each blow driving me on, in my head I was shouting, say your safe word you silly bitch, and striking her harder in annoyance.

I'd been so intent on whipping her back I hadn't noticed she had orgasmed and squirted releasing a creamy liquid that was running down her legs and onto the mat. I laughed inside, I'd just whipped her back six times and she'd come. And not just come, squirted too. The creamy liquid running down onto her feet and the mats below.

She'd first squirted during one of our previous rougher sex sessions and flooded the bed. Neither of us knew what this was but every-time we got rough she would squirt with her orgasms. She eventually went to a Doctor to find out why. As said, pre internet. I enjoyed her squirting, it was horny and it tasted nice, creamy, tingly. And I loved when she got so horny she would squirt covering us both.

As I stood in front of her whipped body I took in her legs sopping from sweat, her juices running down her legs, one of her tits lightly bleeding as was a cut on her thigh. "I've cut you four times, honey." I laughed, taking her chin again and forcing her to look at me. "And now I'm gonna fuck you. I do hope you're sore."

I went back behind, pulled her ass out and stuck my cock in her soaking wet pussy, no prodding or gentle easing in. Straight up her. Now generally I can fuck and fuck but I was almost at orgasm as I went in, my hands on her whipped hips causing her discomfort as I pounded hard and fast. I ran my hands over Sarah's body squeezing her sore tits and pulling on her hair as she grunted and moaned, mixed between ecstasy and pain. With her head pulled back I quickly exploded inside her and felt amazing.

After a short while I stepped back and admired my wife's whipped body some more, my come now adding to the wetness of everything running down her legs, the whelps marks getting redder and redder as the whip lines stood out more. She won't say red. Ok then, I would set a limit, if she was not going to safe word herself to safety I would put a limit of fifty, and she's had thirty. Twenty to go. I took Sarah by the chin and said to her. "You're not going to say the safe word are you?"

She tried to look away but I wouldn't let her. I slapped her on a tit with my hand and told her. "Answer."

"No," she said in a whisper, defiantly. "It's up to you."

"Okay then," I said. "I'm going to give you fifty in total. You have twenty more to go." Sarah remained expressionless as I spoke. "The last twenty are devoted to your pussy." I was pleased to see her eyes widened at that and she whispered "No."

"What's that?" I asked, "speak up.

She didn't. Silence again, she basically just gave me permission to whip her pussy twenty times.

I picked up the leather slapper, a small solid handle device with a flexible plastic strip about 8cm x 5cm at the end. It was wide enough to cover most of her pussy with a single blow and I ran it across my hand and winced at hitting myself. Twenty, I thought, and that's it.

I looked at her body, tall, slightly trembling, sweating, red and raw, it had only taken thirty minutes to do this much to her. I brought the slapper down fairly hard on her pubic bone missing her lips but no doubt catching her clit. I counted to twenty, one at a time, sometimes allowing her to catch her breath, sometimes doing two or three strokes fast. I built up strength as I went with each hit slightly harder than the one before as I kept saying. "Say your safe word you stupid bitch."

After ten strikes to her pubic bone I changed the direction bringing the slapper up between her legs and striking her lips, ten times. The screams and the howls drove me on, the defiance. All she had to do was say "Red" but she wouldn't. She just took the pain, screaming with each strike. I was almost sad when I reached the twentieth. I haven't broken her I thought as I stood back and watched her with love and pity.

Head drooped, sobbing, hair covering her face and tits. I walked behind her and was shocked at her ass. The caning and riding crops had developed beautifully, deep red lines, both of her ass cheeks were a mixture of purple and red and over the days extended to some saggy skin forming and lots of bruising with yellow being introduced into the bruising colours the following morning.

I moved the video camera to get close up shots of her wounds, front and back and then released her, feet first and then wrists. She dropped in my arms, unable to support herself and smiled up at me and said, "You didn't break me." We spent the rest of the evening being in love and I ran antiseptic cream over her wounds with loving hands.

Sarah wouldn't discuss how she had taken so much pain and she pretty much didn't like to discuss how she felt regarding this matter, back then. But occasionally she'd ask if I had enjoyed beating her and she seemed happy that I had. She found it hard to walk or sit for a few days, one of the strikes had hit the side of her pubis and inner thigh which rubbed painfully when she walked and as mentioned her bum was a bruised mess.

We watched the tape back a few times over the years, both turned on by it, me loving what she had let me do but other than confirming I had enjoyed it she would not discuss her point of view. It was one of the only secrets we've ever had until around thirty years later when she did open up about it all.

That was beating number one. I had thought it was savage but beating two and three (when Jackie became involved) even more so.

***