 |
|||
|
|
From
my blog. I answer a reader's question.
> I've been
waiting for you to describe this whipping scene, when you were 13.
Ok.
But it wasn't
just at 13, it was shortly before puberty until 9th or 10th grade.
As a teenager, my
stepdad made me strip naked, stared at my body to humiliate me, and whipped me
with his belt. I thought of him as a
stranger. He whipped me all over really really hard, and I was crying but he told me not to move so
I didn't move
and let him do it. I was unbelievably sexually
aroused by this. After it stopped and he
went away, I'd immediately masturbate to orgasm,usually twice.
This went on until into high school.
But I never put two and two together that that may be why I am like this
until I started writing this blog.
> Like what
had you done that made him or your mom decide that a whipping was in order.
Who even
knows? Whatever kids
do. Lots of times I didn't do
anything at all, she was drunk and just ASSUMED I
did. That's what made me maddest. Or she'd misinterpret something I said as
being sassy talkback. Whatever.
> Who came up
with this imaginative scene? It's not like a traditional OTK spanking.
Don't know for
sure. She may never have even known the
completely naked stuff was going on. She
never watched. She was the one who told
him to punish me, he never started it himself.
It was on her orders. I never got mad at him for it just her.
> What was
going through your head the first time your mums
boyfriend said, "Ok, get naked I'm going to whip you for that"?
Confused. But
she had told him to, so it wasn't his fault, at least not in my mind. I was pretty young the first time, and he
never hit me very hard at all, almost like he was going through the motions
because she had told him to. What he
said was "All right young lady, now take off all your clothes", just
like that. But after the first few times
we both knew what I was to do and he didn't have to say anything at all. In fact, after maybe the first year, the
whole thing always happened without either of us saying anything at all, like
some kind of ritual.
He never showed
any sympathy or compassion for me, but I didn't perceive that he was being
turned on by it, at least not then. But
replaying those memory tapes in my mind now, I can see that after my puberty,
he liked doing it. I can tell by the rapidity and intensity
with which he whipped me that his heart WAS in it. It was enthusiasm, but I think he tried
really, really hard to make it not sexual, lest he get in trouble. But when it first started, I don't think he
was really into it. My impression was
that that was the way they punished kids when he was a kid. I probably assumed it happened to everyone
else, but I am sure I never really thought about it. Kids adapt, you know?
> And since it
so resembles your own fantasies, how could it not be the impetus for them?
Well yeah it's
obvious now!
> Had you
started dreaming and masturbating along domination lines previously?
No.
> Was this
also your mothers kink?
No.
> was she more
into just being a voyeur?
She never
watched. It was always in my room.
Afterwards, no one ever mentioned it.
They acted like it never happened. He never said word one to me anyway,
which was just fine with me. And my mom was always fake-cheery, like she didn't
have anything to do with it, but she had that fucking SMUG SMILE.
I hated her.
I'd rather think
about what he did than what she did.
I held my arms
over my head while he whipped me really fast.
Eventually I learned to clasp my hands behind my neck so my arms
wouldn't hurt. It also gave my hands
something to grab onto while I was being whipped. I stood in one place in the middle of the
room and he walked around me, whipping me and not saying anything except
sometimes "keep your arms up!"
and "be quiet!" I whimpered silently and obediently. He'd always start with my ass, then my back
and legs, work my right side, my front, then left side, more on my ass HARD,
then breasts. Always the same
order. That was actually good, because
it made it predictable.
He never hit my
face or arms or anywhere visible except my upper legs. No one ever noticed in the gym showers; it
wasn't that extreme. The
"sessions" lasted between 30 seconds and a minute. he
whipped me really hard and very fast. After he finished making red lines all
over my body, he just walked out without saying anything, leaving me there,
standing alone and naked.
That's when I
knew I could masturbate. After a few times, as soon as I saw him start to
leave, I'd get really excited. I locked
the door first in case someone came back (no one ever did). I masturbated while
my whole body was stinging and burning from being whipped (or belted or
whatever you call it). It only took
about seven seconds for the first orgasm, which lasted like FOREVER. After the first one, that's when stopped
crying. It was like an emotional
release. The next one was fun to work
for, because then I could concentrate on the feelings in the girl parts of my
body he had abused and remember how humiliated and embarrassed and submissive I
had felt.
His belt was real
thin (and black), so it was more like a whip.
He never used the buckle end.
Sometimes he hit my nipples but I don't think it was on purpose, though
after I got breasts I know he whipped them deliberately. I didn't think anything special about that; I
just assumed he was hitting me everywhere, but I got excited when I saw he was
whipping them. Whenever he hit my
nipples (which come to think of it, was always at the end), that was like the
"peak". That hurt the most, but provided by far the most pleasure
when I rubbed off afterwards. They were
the most sensitive part he hit. To this
day, I squeeze the nipples until they hurt when I masturbate.
Over the years he
did this certainly more than 100 times, and probably several hundred. Less that a thousand though. I never counted and I didn't keep a diary. I also never told anybody. It never seemed
interesting or important. I just knew
that it hurt, was embarrassing, and I secretly craved it. I never deliberately misbehaved to make it happen, though.
He whipped my
vagina, but only because he whipped me all over. He never made me spread my legs or ass or do
anything "obscene". Though now that I think of it, when my "vagina" got hair
and turned into a "cunt", he whipped it a lot more than he used to.
Wow, I never
really analyzed all this stuff before.
Thinking back on it now, I guess it aroused him immensely, but until now
I never really thought about that. He was like my evil mom's robot, but not
evil himself. I never thought to see if
he had a boner. I don't think I knew to
look back then. I was INCREDIBLY naive and totally ignorant about sex, other
than the most basic biology we learned in school (which wasn't much).
He never whipped
my clit specifically, or made any indication that anything was sexual. I thought the sex aspect was exclusively in
my guilty mind and that I was really perverted. (I guess I was). Then I found out years later that there's a
whole subculture of women who like to be humiliated, embarrassed and whipped, I
though it was literally too good to be true, and that it was all just
theoretical rumor, like the other strange stuff you hear about other cultures
doing, until I found out Diana really did that stuff. That's what made it real
for me. Then my whole world
changed. See my main fuck story for
that.
Shit, writing
about it is turning me on. I'm, going to
look at whip movies now.
And rub the nub.
And remember.
-- flk
Copyright 2007 by
Faye Kane... NOT! Like my body, you can
do whatever you want with this story.
|
|
|