P01E12

When I had previously thought about whipping (and I had!), I had always imagined there was “an instrument” for that… but my imagination had been vague about it, except that it should be leather, supple, and black. But now, Howard led me to a rack with a wide assortment of whips, crops, canes, and other implements I didn’t know by name. He presented it to me, and started explaining the specifics of each… a paddle for wide blanket targeting, a riding crop for precise aiming, a cane for heavy-duty damage and purple to black marking, a dressage whip for sizzling cracks and ornamental pink-reddish welts, a ruler for deep thrusting impact without much bite… it all dazzled me. I had always thought of a whipping as a kind of simple thing, you basically took an ass and a whip and you started lashing… listening to him now made me realize that a real whipping could be so much more delicate, so much more subtle, so much more sophisticated.

He could probably see that I was confused and dazzled by an information overload of equipment details, and he paused mid-sentence. Then he said: “Maybe it would be better if I explained this to you in a more practical way? To show you how they actually work? “

My response was a nod, and Marcy’s was another shiver.

“Very well then, “ Howard continued, while he walked around Marcy and casually put back the gag in her mouth, “let’s start with the most basic one then. This one, the riding crop. Take a close look. There is a grip for your hand, and a shaft extending from it, which ends in a small triangular piece of stiff leather. That exquisite triangle is the only part which actually hits the target zone. “ He took the handle in his hand, extendeding the tip of the crop towards Marcy’s right buttock, then let it rest on it. A rash of goosebumps raced across her buttocks when the triangle touched her.

Howard continued: “Now as you can see, the impact area of the triangle is really small, less than two inches wide. That means that all the power your arm puts into the lash is only distributed over the small area of her butt that will be impacted by the triangle. So what does it mean? “

I thought about his question for a second, then replied: “That the lash is more concentrated? “

“Exactly. You can’t wield a crop like you could a flogger; you have to be much more careful with it. A crop lash typically comes from the wrist, not from the elbow, let alone the shoulder. As if you were playing ping-pong, not tennis. You twist the wrist…”, and he turned his own wrist to show me what he meant, lifting the triangle up from her ass, “...see how my forearm hardly even moves? Then you twist the wrist back with a snap, and let the triangle hit the buttock. “ As he spoke, he made the back twist, using hardly any power at all. The reversed motion of the crop made the triangle tap her ass. She held her breath for a second before exhaling, but there was no other response from her; it was obvious that it couldn’t have been painful anyway.

“There, see what I mean? Gentle and controlled. “

He made the gesture again, repeating like the mantra: “Twist the wrist… forearm still… snap back. Twist the wrist… forearm still… snap back. “ He kept repeating it, increasing the power and upswing with each repetition, gradually increasing the power of his lashes. He slightly changed his aim with every hit, so the crop found a fresh piece of ass for every new stroke. Marcy’s breathing was getting heavier as the series of lashes landed on her ass with two-second intervals.

“That’s how to do it… do you want to try? “

I gasped slightly in surprise, and said: “After yesterday, and the fiasco with the machine? “

Howard laughed: “Well, I’m pretty sure you learned something from that, didn’t you? Just follow my lead, and you’ll be fine. “

He passed me the crop. I felt the slender grip of the leather handle as my hand closed around it, confident, as if it was the natural place to be. My eyes ran across Marcy’s ass spread out before me, helplessly tied down, then back to the crop in my hand. It felt immensely powerful; but for the first time, I also felt the responsibility that such power brought with it. Howard’s words (“She may be a sub, but she’s not a puppet!”) rang through my head. I wanted to do this right.

So it was with the greatest care that I extended the crop and laid the triangle to rest on her right buttock, the one Howard hadn’t touched yet. “From the wrist - forearm still”, it raced through my mind. I took 10 seconds of mental preparation; then I twisted my wrist, the crop rose from the ass, and it returned to the buttock with a distinct cracky sound when I mirrored the wrist move as Howard had shown me. I had just whipped a girl’s butt for the first time in my life. It yielded nothing more than a tap, but I knew I got the gesture right. Howard confirmed this by an affirmative nod, and said: “Very good. Just a tiny little bit more power now. “

I repeated the move, landing the triangle on her ass slightly harder. She swallowed audibly.

Howard said: “That’s good. However, you made this smack at exactly the same place as the previous one. You should shift each next blow a few inches, so you don’t hit the same part of her skin twice. “

I nodded: “Yes, I saw you do that. I’ll remember.”

I repeated the motion, slightly increasing the power yet again, then again, and again. My whipping of her ass really started to take off now, and my lashes soon had more power than any of the ones Howard had delivered. He kept a close eye on the way I handled her, and he kept encouraging me to increase the power. Marcy’s breathing had gone heavier and heavier, and now changed to a slight moaning, muffled by the gag.

As her flogging got rougher and rougher, I noticed that the spots where the lashes had landed on her ass lighted up within a second or two in a bright pink color. The shape of the triangle of the crop was clearly recognizable in each marking, so her buttock gradually started displaying a pattern of pink triangles, showing exactly which places I had already whipped, and which had been exempted. “Marking my girl, “ it rang through my head, and it sounded very good. I relayed my focus to the exempted places, continuing to cover her buttock with pink triangles until it was full of them. When it was, Howard and I looked each other in the eye, and he just said: “The other one? “

I grinned, and shifted aim to the left buttock. There were no pink triangles there yet, because Howard hadn’t used much power for his example strokes; but I got to work on that and soon her entire ass was marked in a lovely pattern. The places where I’d begun her thrashing were starting to shift color a bit, as the bright pink turned into a deeper red shade.

I stepped back and admired my own handiwork. It felt as if I had created a work of art on her ass; and this time, I hadn’t damaged her, she was moaning so it must have hurt, but nowhere near a vehement reaction like yesterday. I felt incredibly proud of myself.

Howard said: “Yeah, that’s pretty good. So, do you enjoy whipping this little slut girl? Feels good, doesn’t it? “

I nodded. Marcy sniffed.

He continued: “However, there is one thing you should never forget. Remember what she told you before, about the body response. A whipping can be an incredible source of hornification for a slut - but, it must be catalyzed. You can not just whip her ass into a frenzy and expect her to get aroused by nothing but that. You need to combine the sensation of the pain with the sensation of sex. Do you understand what I’m saying? “

“I’m not sure… are you saying she should be fucked as well? Even during the whipping? “

“Not necessarily fucked. But stimulated, yes. It doesn’t even have to be about her pussy… some nipple pinching may work just as well, or just stroking the inside of her thighs… even some humiliating remarks can be enough sometimes. Point is, she needs to be ushered in the right direction, so she can find the path to appreciate the whipping in delight, rather than slipping off into the abyss of naked pain. Cause you can see that might happen as well, right?”

I nodded. There’s nothing sexy about pain alone. I understood indeed.

Howard continued: “In fact it is the main difference between a leisure whipping like this one, and a disciplinary whipping, when she has broken rules, was disobedient or rebellious, etcetera. In that case, we don’t want her to drift off into the comfort of arousal, she should feel the full weight of the punishment. But now, she should. So what do you do? “

“I should give her sexual stimulation? “

“Exactly. It doesn’t really matter how; you might play with her clit or insert your fingers, you might use a wand, you might even fuck her for a bit… it is up to you, really.”

“Well I don’t want to fuck her just yet. I’m afraid I’d shoot my spunk straight away! And we’re not quite done with this whipping thing yet, right? “

“No, we’re absolutely not done yet; in fact we only just started, and it would be a waste indeed if you already shot your load now. So, how do you prefer to hornify her instead?”

Instead of replying, I shaped my hand like he had shown me before, fingers stretched and thumb opposite and above them, and reached for her crotch. The thumb slid in easily again, finding the path into her slit as before. It already started feeling slightly familiar. Her moaning got heavier as my thumb probed deeper, and doubled when my other fingers came down on her venus mound. This time I squeezed her between my thumb and the other fingers, seizing her pussy in my full hand, and she yelped as her hips started swaying in the grip of my hand. I was grabbing this girl by the pussy, and it rendered her wriggling in ecstacy… and I felt that amazing sensation of power again. I looked down, to the pattern of triangles on her ass, the ornaments of her submission and availability to ****. I realized Howard would soon explain the usage of a second whip to me, and the feeling of power doubled. I clutched her pussy even tighter in my hand, not releasing the squeeze this time, but holding her entire sex in a solid grab for a dozen of seconds. Her ass wriggled in response and she moaned even more. Then I suddenly released her and withdrew my hand. There was clear disappointment in her shriek. Turning to Howard, I said: “Shouldn’t give her too much, right? “