Her First flagellation - component 1

Bear with me, 'coz this is the very first clock time I have tried writing something like this down, especially on a web site like this, but I did promise !

So ( deep breath - here goes ), net calendar week I was pretty busy at uni, but, with the boost of my new friends here, I decided to take the plunge and public lecture to my BF about my pastime.

Tues nighttime. Down the pub and after a long intemperately day. Me doing work back at my room on the showtime paper of terminus, him in the labs or wherever working on his PhD.

We had a dry pint each ( I like a beer ! ) and then after talking about the football and rugby and other affair, I asked him if he 'd ever cogitate about affair he 'd like to try apart from regular sex. We joshed a bit, then he mentioned that he 'd always class of fancied a threesome, him and two lesbian girls.

Pretty banner I told him !

So, then it was my turning. I said I quite liked a little bit of bother, and mentioned that I 'd tried it on myself with a petty garden cane ( the very thin ones ) and with a hairbrush, on my titmouse and pussy. And I asked him if he 'd wish to play some games with me to see if he might like it too, doing matter to me I said.

All, initially, a bit embarrassing. But we talked some more and I convinced him I was n't half-baked and that other the great unwashed do this and that he must have seen Fifty Shades and so after a piece he was quite ok about it and we agreed to consecrate it a try, later in the week, over at his flat tire, which is a bit more roomy than mine, and has the huge advantage of having a bed with an old-style bedstead ( thinking ahead you see ... comfortable to tie me to ! ).

We both had lumbering days ahead, so we snuggled up a bit and had another drink, but then for me it was back to my place and for him to his. We 'd see each other on Fri evening we 'd concur. I had lots of employment to do before then, and a few special things to classify out and buy !

Her get-go Whipping - office 2

Just snatching a moment before my coffee break ( in the library ) ...

So, this is how matter worked out.

In between work, I had a think ( and a bit of a Google ) about whippy things, and thought I would make something for myself.

So down at the local hardware store ( they exist here ! ) I bought a rope for a Sheila maiden ( those wooden things you can raise up on pulley-block for clothes ). Quite recollective and about 4mm wide, so I thought it would be very well for a variety of things.

spine home I first of all made my 'whip', just three Strand tied together with a sort-of hold ( from the rope ), and I knotted them at the ends so they would n't fray where I 'd cut them. And I cut the remaining rope into four tell apart shorter ropes for tying me up.

All set I thought !

I confess when I chatted with some mates over coffee on Friday aurora about the plans for the evening and the weekend, I was getting a few butterflies ! I did n't quite tell them my architectural plan, although we did all agree to meet up in the pub on Fri night, as we tend to do.

I had this sort of creeping turmoil feeling, and a sense that I might be about to do something that was a little bit naughty and a bit 'outside the prescript'.

The good afternoon, with my Quran, seemed to lease quite a longsighted meter to run. But it did, and around four I packed up and sling my nice backpack on and got on my bicycle and cycled home, packed up a change of dress, my toothbrush and my bundle of ropes, and headed over to the BFs ...

Her outset tanning - role 3

I got there, stood smiling at stupidly at him and he 'd let me in … his flat is in a shared household in the pupil area ... typical sorting of situation ... redbrick terrace. He 's on the second floor at the top of the menage, so pot of steps and boy are they a mess hall ... nice big room, very nice big bed. Desk. Lots of paper and Scripture and a somewhat broken subterfuge that covers the view of the future terrace and the usually gray and rainy sky.

Once I 'd got up there I felt knackered, so was a bit fumbly with my poppycock and a bit discompose when we chatted ( after we 'd kissed ), but I reminded him what we 'd agreed and he said ‘ Ok'again and so I showed him what I 'd brought and said that if he was really ok then I 'd get strip. Which I did. And I took out my navel piercing and lay on the bed and smiled at him and said he should go ahead.

He looked even more disconcerted so I asked him to tie my radiocarpal joint and ankles out to the nook mail service and then to try the home-made whiplash.

He did all that. I liked the feeling of being tied up by him, all sorting of helpless, and I liked it when he ran the closing of the whip over me.

OK, I said, now try it out. I knew he would n't do it too much or too hard. He tried a cerebrovascular accident on my belly and it did n't really smart so I asked him to try harder.

And that time it did hurt, but in a really good way. sore and full and delicious. And then he did it a few more times on my stomach and knocker, just enough to make them a bit red.

I asked him to untie my feet and fix them up to the rail at the rear of the bed so my legs were lifted up a bit and then asked him to hit me on the inside of my thigh.

He did n't desire to but he did in the end, after some fooling around, and then he sort of got into the hang of it and used a bit more force, which was gooey and painful and made me jolt. I could see my thighs ( and stuffy to my cunt ) getting red and some nice red lines forming. It was so ... painfully lovely !

That was enough for him though, and in truth it did wound a lot.

After, we made love. It also hurt between my legs and while it was n't the best ever sex ( he was a bit nervous still after what had happened ) it was brilliant in a new way.

He 's only got a basinful in his room, so I washed off, then got dressed without my bra or scanty and with an old, diffused, multi-coloured skirt ( a bit like a gypsy affair ) on, and a white jersey and my jacket crown.

I liked feeling naked and cut under my clothes. I liked it even more at the pub down the route with our Quaker. We knew that my branch and boobs were all covered in fool, but they did n't.

I liked it when he hugged me and smiled and we kissed. My acquaintance did n't recognize ! I did ! That was almost the dear thing, and almost made me cum, right there, with my beer, in the pub !

So that was go Friday ! We have n't tried again since ( yeah, we 've had sex again, natch. And the marks are still a bit there too ).

But we will. He says we will if I want to. So that 's all expert, I think ! My inaugural go EVER and it went ok, I think ! Yeah ! ! ! !

Her commencement Whipping - Part 4

Sorry it 's taken me so long ... been a bit busy.

Anyway, to hold up Fri. No bullwhips ( yet ) but I did add a few spear carrier knots to my little 3 tailed 'whip'and took it over to the BFs.

This sentence we started off with some gracious, slow, very cuddly and kissy sex. I liked it especially when he kissed me between my legs where my skin is still a bit raw and sore.

And then it was prison term for our play-time. I 'd talked him through it and this metre I went down on my knee at the bottom of the bed and he tied my bridge player up over my head to the spot at the end. He left me waiting there for a bit, which was super-thrilling, and just watched me breathing slowly.

Then he came and ruffled my whisker over my ears, kissed me on the book binding of the neck opening, asked me again if I was sure and, once I 'd said I was, he picked up the party whip from the bed. I held my breath.

He whipped me about 20 times on my backbone, between my shoulder blades. He left quite long gap and I counted. Sometimes the gap was very long and I was left looking up at him, part wanting him to hit me and part wanting him to stop. It was really quite painful, but each prison term I had this wonderful struggle going on in my head between not wanting to be hurt and absolutely wanting to feel the sudden burn and the phone of the whip as it hit me. Is this rule ? Anyway, it felt like butterfly and was pretty wonderful !

Once he was finished he turned me round, still on my knees, but now with my binding to the bed, and I sucked him off, which was sweet of him to let me, and nice for him I think !

After, I looked at my back in the mirror, and it was ‘ pretty'red ( and ‘ pretty'-pretty I thought ), and when he touched me it was tender and sore.

We sat around for a while and talked about what had happened. I asked him if he was ok, and he said he was getting ok with it. I said I 'd read about doing it outdoors and how he 'd palpate about that, and talked about the different whiplash I 've looked at.

He hugged me and asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this and that if I really did, he was ok and we 'd keep it our secret and things like that.

Then he fucked me again. Twice more.

It was a really bright night. I want to do this more because it makes me experience better than I 've ever felt, but I 'm just a bit scared about getting too hurt or marked up and what masses will say, because I am sure somebody will notice. But maybe that might be interesting too, having to explain to a girl-friend at the gym what all the marking on me are !

I 'm not going to speed into things too weirdo though and we wo n't do any more debacle before the end of the week. Friday seems the best nighttime ... gives me a lot to calculate forward to every day in the library ! ! !

Her outset trouncing - Part 5

The BF 's been away for a few days on a symposium over in Leeds, so I 've been on my own this finish weekend.

I do n't mind that really - fourth dimension to go to the gym with my friends and have some chatty umber and crapulence after sketch.

Friday night felt a bit empty though. Watched something or other on iPlayer, Bake Off, that form of thing, and ate a pizza.

Spent Saturday in the subroutine library, then around 4 decided enough was enough. Bus home, then got my cycle out and cycled down to the ballpark. It 's not a town ballpark, More of a country park I suppose, that runs by the river for a few miles. circumstances of muddy tracks and ball of woodland.

The river is a dark, swirly matter, hidden between high camber to stop it flooding. Some people use the park as a shortcut, some to walk pawl or to drink beers or just wander.

But on an October late good afternoon, with the sky dark and gloomy and promising rain, I guessed it wouldn't be too officious and I was the right way. I chained the bike by the Bill Gates and wandered along, down to the riverside.

I guess I felt a bit saturnine, but also prevenient. I had a architectural plan which I wanted to try out. Nothing too daring !

I found a place where a clump of trees … birch tree, was part-hidden by senior and overgrown blackberry bushes, and followed the minuscule path in, pushing away the tangly offset, until I was pretty a great deal out of survey of the main path.

Then I unzipped my raincoat and unbuttoned the blouse I was wearing down to my jeans. I already liked the cool air on my titmouse, and I wet my finger and played with my mammilla. In the distance I could hear mortal shouting for their dog and some kids playing. I was liking this !

Whoops - had to shut down quickly ... in the program library and a mate came by ... sorry !

Anyway, I pushed my boobies against the barque of the tree and let them slue across, sort of wrapping myself round, twisting, so my stomach was against the tree too.

In the aloofness I could discover a dog barking and just see its owner shouting over the circus tent of the brambles. I loved the excitement of being half-naked and almost public !

I dragged myself back across the luggage compartment of the tree, letting the breaks in the barque cut at my boobs, so that when I pulled away and touched myself there were lovely red grazing marks, like the I you get if you fall off a bicycle into gravel.

I did it some more, almost wanting to scream a bit, but biting my lip, and now there were tiny shadow of blood on me. I gave the tree a big, inscrutable hug, kind of to say thank you, and crouched down, completely out of mass, while I pulled my top back on again and buttoned up my shirt.

The cycle home was in the rain, and I was soaked but glad when I got back up to my room, although it's funfair to say my shirt was a bit of a mess, all bloodstained.

I looked at myself in the mirror and liked what I saw. Then I showered. Gorgeous hot piss stinging the gash. And put some cream on and lay down a while.

I went out in the evening with some fellow and we did cocktails. I knew what they did n't ! It was my secret pleasure and inside I was smiling sooo much ! I want to do it again, but with my BF and some roofy and a whiplash ! It 's possible, I think !

Her First Whipping - Part 6

wellspring, I 'm back, if only briefly. Sorry to deliver been away for so foresightful rafts on - had to take stumble to Cambridge and Jack London and Northampton ( do n't ask ! ).

Anyway, back home base, a few thing have happened, and all good really.

My BF has been really sweet and helpful and I love him for it ! After my lilliputian experiment in the woods down by the river, he agreed to go down with me. We waited ‘ til almost dark ( it 's the North, it 's dark too soon ) and we knew that the tiddler and dog walkers would n't be there.

It was quite well-off to drop off out of thought away from the river path behind the little birches and brambles. Soon we found a good place and I stripped off COMPLETELY NAKED !

It was pretty much a boot just to do that out in the candid, in the cold. We hugged and kissed a bit, and then, like we 'd harmonize, he tied me up to the trunk of one of the giving elderly trees, an oak, with my arms wrapped around it and my legs apart.

My wrist joint and ankles were tied and I loved the look of my venter and boobs against the cold, slightly tone down, very rough barque. He had the whip I 'd made and I promised not to squall and so he kissed me again and stroked my hair ( short, iniquity, a bit curly ) and began to whip me.

At commencement, he was too nervous and gentle, but then he got more confident ( and more certain that I would n't shout out out ) so he hit me harder.

I could hear the whip coming. That diminutive mo between that speech sound and the sudden strike and that immediate jar and the burning pain sensation was amazing.

prevision and advantage. I was loving it.

Over my shoulder blades and across my spine and ( missing the dangerous bit ) over my bum and my thighs. My thigh hurt the most. I think he hit me twenty or tweny-tive times. And then he fucked me very gently up my ass.

It was a terrific feel. I was trembling all over. Really shaking. I wanted to rest tied up all nighttime and be fucked all night. Could n't though, obviously.

He untied me and I suddenly felt totally tired. He wrapped me in a towel and I wiped myself down. shoetree soil and travail and little bloody marks on the towel.

Once I was dressed ( nice light easy-fitting things and an old lenient pully that I really love coz it shapes beautifully over my boobs ) we packed up and left the Park. Now it was really dark.

I was still trembling, but excited. And my hind detriment, sort of burning up. I should have gone straight back to his seat to wash up, but we went to the pub and booze some vodka and that was so good. No-one knew about what we 'd done !

We 've done it again since. I 'll tell you about that later. Have to go now. Thanks for all the encouragement. I love my BF for being so, so, so good at all this !

Her First whipstitching - Part 7

So, I 'm not at the library on this dispirited, dripping, dank day. I 'm sitting at my laptop computer at my desk in my room.

There 's a birch Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree battering its leafless subdivision against the windowpane. It 's warm and tea cozy here though. I 've got a sloppy t-shirt on, and that 's it. I 've got my finger on the keyboard, but every so often ... I take a break and let them vagabond to my clit.

I 've found them wandering that way a lot as I drift from one Sir Frederick Handley Page to another and one set of mental image to another and fantasise my way to a lovely, sugariness, wet orgasm as I look at the picture on CruxForums.

They 've certainly opened my eyes. And in ways I had n't imagined. I ca n't really still believe how aroused look-alike of sweet, pretty lady friend being led up onto scaffolds are.

snare hung around cervix. Eyes taking a final stage look at the earthly concern. I ca n't believe how fluttery I feel when I look at word picture of sweet, pretty girls being impaled, the long, transfix celestial pole sliding into their cunts, the sentience of revulsion as they feel themselves pinch and supported only through the wood that is forcing its way deeper into their gut, slowly killing them.

I ca n't believe how my nipples hardened when I look at picture show of sweet, pretty young lady being tied down onto the twisting rack, or being flogged, or being nailed onto their crosses.

It 's an baffle matter, this fantasy thing. How we can envisage ourselves into these terrible situations and how our minds can think us into loving them, adoring them, wanting them so, so, so much. But at the same sentence knowing that we really would n't want it at all. But at the same metre maybe questioning that not wanting and sorting of wishing that maybe it could be true. It 's so confusing, but I love this strange confusion, I 'm discovering.

Back to reality ( suspiration ... ).

It 's all going well on my social movement ( and my back ) ... whips seem made for me and me for lash and my BF is such a darling boy and seems to wish it too. I 've really enjoyed him tying me tightly to my bed ( or to his bed ) so I 'm as stretched out as I can be and then getting him to coil a fragile cord around my belly ( after I 've taken my piercing out ! ) and pulling it really, really tight and sliding it back and forwards so it almost cuts into me.

It leaves a delicious red welt all around me, and spirit as though my paunch is burning up. And I adore so practically getting cleaned up and putting on my jeans and a sloppy jumper without my bra and without any panties, and going out with him into townsfolk and kissing him so everyone can see he loves me and so no-one can see the marker on me, but so I know and he knows they are there.

And then he slides his hand under my sweater and gently squeezes my nipple, then squeezes it harder and grueling, and I know he 's going to do it and I do n't let the injury show to anyone and I just kiss him deep in his mouth.

I 'm going to stop now and look at some things and touch myself a bit more ... XXX

THIS IS THE END OF OUR LITTLE GIRL'S entry TO THE WORLD OF darkness FANTASY. TO DISCOVER HOW SHE SLIDES FURTHER down feather THIS SLIPPERY SLOPE THEN PLEASE GO rear NOW TO READ"journeying OF A PAIN SLUT"AND Menachem Begin AT ACT 1 .