Severe Spanking and Domination

My initial introduction to severe spanking and domination happened at the hands of a guy named Ted, whom I met through one of the BBSs to which I belong. Ted is a bright, educated guy, an engineer by trade, and a dominant by choice. We had corresponded on that board for a long time before he finally came to town. When he announced that he would be here, I could think of no excuse at all to refuse meeting him. That the session ended up with me nude, face down but raised up over the end of the couch, my naked bottom turned towards the ceiling, my ankles pulled apart and tied to each leg of the couch-- in a perfect position to be instructed, that is what I expected in advance. In fact, I had made him promise that when he got me that he would absolutely not let me talk him out of giving me a spanking. I certainly did not have to worry about that, as it turned out.

He took a long time admiring the view, probed here and there with his fingers, then found an erect nipple and pinched and pinched, until he made me tell him where the strop was. It was hanging on a hook on the inside of the door (you hear that, Ken? Remember it for future reference. You may well want to use it yourself.) He took the strop, gave it a few trial swings, and then, TTTHHHWWSWWACK!!!! A murderous, burning swipe across both cheeks of my rump... this followed after a long interval by another, and another. He quickly had me crying for mercy, for forgiveness. Did I get mercy? No. I got a hot oil injection, firmly squirted into my anus by a large, thick, rigid cock. And afterwards I was given the privelege to suck it clean.

Comparing that session to the one I had at Emily"s house is difficult for me, because in a way they were so different. The first one, described above, I always felt in control even though my hands were fastened behind me. Any time I really wanted him to stop, I think he would have. At Emily's, she (Emily) was fully in control, and being another woman, had a better understanding of what I could take, and resolved, I am sure, to take me all the way there, and beyond. Now she did not wield the crop, Doris did. But she was in charge of the event, the mistress of ceremonies, so to speak- have no doubt about that.

When I was invited (or ordered, if you prefer) there for a hen party and a dinner, I had no idea what was going to happen. Lets face it, she and I were no longer social friends, but I was in no position to refuse, so I duly showed up, suitably dressed for a social dinner with 8 or 9 women present. Early on, there was no obvious sign that this was going to be different from a thousand similar parties we both have been to. An elegant dinner was offered, beautifully prepared and served. Oh yes, Emily does do things correctly, even to the Nth degree. The conversation was lively and intelligent, ranging wide over every possible subject. Later on, however, the tone of the conversation changed, and Emily announced in words that I cannot really remember that this was a special occasion- that present was the person who had helped break up her marriage, etc, etc. Everybody chimed in at that point, and however it worked conversationally, I ended up nude, with my wrists behind me, tied. Doris had a metal clip that winds through the hair and locks, and to it, a long cord attached that she tossed over a ceiling beam. There I stood, totally helpless, now very fearful of this particular event. I did not feel that I had any control at all over what would happen, and considering that Emily was still very angry at me, I foresaw real problems, and did not have the feeling that the other ladies present were going to be supportive in the least measure. It's almost funny- Hilde told me later that Emily had told the others that there was going to be "special entertainment" that evening- she had not told me that, but maybe that was because I was going to be the special entertainment. Who knows what the others were expecting- I am sure that nobody else knew, but I have an idea that Hilde, who really knows Emily the best, had a pretty good idea. What Doris knew in advance is hard to say. That one never says much anyway.

Doris did her particular specialty after blindfolding me-- gentle, stimulating caresses of the nipples, guaranteed to arouse one and erect those nipples no matter how frightened and apprehensive you might be. And when they were suitably erect, a final pinch, and then those metal spring clips attached, first one and then the other. And soon enough, her searching finger between my legs, probes, finds moisture, finds an erecting clit, massages it so that it is standing fully at attention, and another clip attached to it-- all three together now applying a kind of hideous metallic caress that never stops.

Try to understand- I was totally embarrassed, absolutely under Emily's control, and terrified, and at the same time, excited almost beyond belief, perhaps sexier than I have ever been, before or since. I now knew what to expect- I was going to get a total thrashing, specifically for the entertainment of the ladies present (who had been selected, I am sure for their potential enjoyment of that kind of thing). In the meantime, I have been incredibly aroused, and clips attached to my most vulnerable points. My nipples are up as hard as steel, and gripped in the unyielding clasp of the clips, and my clit also has been aroused and clipped. I am almost expecting that Emily will have Doris insert one of those special suppositories in my anus- the kind that makes you think you have a hot iron up there- like she had done to me before. No, not this time, though I do not know why not, and obviously I do not ask. And finally, I am incredibly aroused- almost at the point of orgasm- but I do not want to have that orgasm. No, not this way, in front of this audience (which obviously was very interested, and would have applauded wildly).

Now Emily is seated comfortably, and asks me for my version of the relationship with her ex. I tell her the truth- that we had been together at a Christmas party, and he kissed me under the mistletoe, but nothing more- that day. " What about the next day", she inquires, and I confess that we had done some juvenile

petting, with him maybe kissing my titties, and sliding his hand up under my skirt-- hardly enough for all this to-do right now. She gives the sign to Doris, and the crop flashes, whacking me severely across the rump, making me gasp, and making some unseen female titter. I dance, I shake, but I have nowhere to go. Again she asks, and I confess that later I had let him take my panties down. That day he gave my pussy a sweet kiss. At that I get a sweet kiss, too- by the crop, again across the rump. I am really fearful now, and crying, begging to be let go. Nobody will have any of that, and I get another slash with the crop for even asking. Emily is leading the confessional now- she wants to know what happened next- of course, she already knows, that that same day I had taken his cock into my mouth, but nothing more. I admit that, get another shot with the crop for it, and I am screaming, practically hysterical now, because I do not know how much farther this is going to go. I also do not know that there is a video camera set up, and I am going to be the star of the film that is being taken this very minute. Emily wants to know about his fucking me, and I swear that it never happened. Nobody believes me now, and the punishment continues, worse than I ever got before. My confession is extracted from me, and by now after a dozen or more stokes of that crop, I will confess to anything, and confess I do to seducing him every which way, to fucking for him vaginally, orally, anally, you name it- she asked me and I confessed to it. Almost as an after thought, she had me confess to putting her down in her husband's eye, to claim that she was a sexless thing and that real joy could only be had from a real woman (obviously like me). The ladies thought that this was the ultimate insult- this whore badmouthing Emily to him, a good, innocent wife. Innocent, hah!!!). Somebody suggests that my mouth be washed out with soap for that- and it is duly done, with a strong laundry soap. Doris fetched a bar, a large chunk was broken off and stuffed in my mouth for fun. Not much fun, believe me.

Now think about Doris a moment- an attractive black lady, about 35-no education whatever. Will she be interested in playing executioner today? Of course. Perhaps it is a racial thing, or perhaps the result of unintended slights towards her on my part in the past which she has misinterpreted on a personal basis. Whichever, she would be delighted to give this delicious honky bitch a spanking. Is it in the culture? I have heard that give a black woman the chance to work over a blonde whore- especially one who has been fucking around with black men, and the thrashing will be earth shaking. She has worked for Emily for years as house maid, perhaps confidant, and if it turns out that Charles had been fucking her on the side, I wouldn't be a bit surprised. If it is also true that Doris had been servicing Emily in her own way- like giving her sweet massages and the like- I not only would not be surprised but am rather sure that this is so. I don't think that they had a total bi-relationship, but I don't know.

Now understand the cropping. I am standing, my hair holding me upright. Doris is an artist with that crop, and she has me bobbing and dancing, kicking, even leaping, and certainly screaming. None of it makes a bit of difference- I am not going anywhere until I am released, and that will certainly not be until Emily is satisfied. And you do know Emily. She is little and she is cute, but she is very strong and determined, and she WILL have her pound of flesh in revenge. Step onto her patch only on her terms. Go beyond that, invade her privacy, take what is hers at your peril. This was the lesson being taught me, and perhaps being taught the ladies in the audience. She felt no compunction about giving a whore a thrashing, and I was- had I not already confessed it?

And when I got the cropping that day- much more severe by the way, it was in part because she really did believe that I had been fucking her husband (and believes it to this day) and wanted my full confession. She got it, true or false. And when I had confessed- which was absolutely believed by the other ladies present, the consensus was that I was a slut who was getting what she deserved- a comeuppance that tramps deserve but rarely get. The fact that Emily had the pictures and I could not let them get out and therefore she owned me- they did not know that. All they knew was that this whoring slut, who had seduced Emily's husband plus who-knows-who else, who might be making an unknown play for the husband of any of the ladies present, she was getting a richly deserved lesson, written on her ass by a luscious black maid. The fact that I look the way I do and sometimes have a haughty air did not help. Take this slut down a peg or two-you know. The ladies watched every stroke approvingly, and nobody protested that the punishment exceeded the crime. Later, when either Emily or Doris asked if a volunteer might provide a chocolate eclair to be served as a special penance, they had no problem at all getting a volunteer to go to the bathroom and to produce one on one of Emily's fine china plates, to be sure. And who fed me that eclair, of course using one of Emily's sterling silver dessert spoons? Doris? Emily? The volunteer? I don't know. You asked how large was that eclair, and I respond that I don't really know. I remember it as being sufficiently large to do the task intended- to humiliate me totally in front of that audience- who likely would have applauded had it been twice as large. All I know is that it was large enough, that I was fed it all, and was in no position to debate the point- nor the tall glass of lemonade which was offered me to wash down my special treat. You might ask if any of the others were shocked at this. Well, they had seen it happen before their eyes, perhaps as a logical extension of this tramp being punished in Emily's particular way, and who would say that she was wrong? Certainly none of them would.

All I know is that I had received a cropping- a cruelly efficient one given under the most exotic and erotic circumstances possible, before a very interested audience. I know that Doris had me bobbing and weaving, crying and begging for forgiveness for a crime that I did not commit, and if these ladies in the audience had been a jury, I am sure that this sentence given me would have been even more extreme. If anybody had suggested that they put a brand on my bottom, I am certain that the group would have agreed, perhaps unanimously. And of course, adding to the overall flavor of the moment is that the whole thing was being videotaped, in full, glorious color and sound, for posterity to view. Crime and Punishment- or better yet, Crime, Confession, and Punishment-- how's that for a title. It has a sort of Russian Ring to it, doesn't it? Something Dostoyevsky might have written.

I must point out as an afterthought that what terrified me most during this session, was that one of the women suggest that they shave off my hair- both on my head and pubic. This is a particular punishment that now and then whores have gotten, especially in the South. I have no doubt that had it been suggested that it might well have happened. Supposing they had given me the choice- stand there as I was, in the clips, not to be released until I specifically asked for THAT punishment. Sooner or later I would have asked.