Time to turn your back

What happens next is the first good news of the day. Michael comes very close to you and helps you turn around on your toes, making sure your wrists are not caught in a twist. You are as relieved as someone in your situation can possibly be, which you suppose is not saying too much. Once he has you in the right place your ex-boyfriend steps back... and with very little pause the whip strikes you again.

You would have thought your back would be less sensitive but you certainly do not feel this way as Michael falls into the same pattern, dishing out relatively light individually but torturous when applied in such quick succession neat parallel lashes, moving down from the top of his target. Whatever resolve you had had does not last. You are yelling again after the first few strokes; long before your bottom is reached you are a crying incoherent mess. It is a strange sensation to feel the heat spread over you, covering more and more.

As the whip approaches your bottom the maddening pain is suddenly joint by a new rush of fear, an emotion you hardly expected at this point. You now know you can “survive” a whipping on a “fresh” body part; your bottom, however, was paddled most cruelly just yesterday. You are not doing this consciously exactly, but at some point you realise you are actually tugging onto the restraints in the most pathetic attempt to escape imaginable. Luckily for you it is not even noticed; your ear-piercing scream when the whip lashes across your bum is. Even with the experience of the last days to fall back onto you could not imagine there is such pain.

Unexpectedly, Michael is wrongfooted by the reaction. He hits you again but much weaker this time and he does not redo the stroke. True, it is still agonising enough to make you scream at the same pitch again, but the deeper after-impact pain is not settling in as it should have done. The next stroke is a bit harder but still far from what you know Michael is capable of bringing about and the next is somehow the final. As you shriek again, your body curving despite the pain in the wrists, your ex lowers his arm.

“I believe this should be sufficient.” His voice is only slightly unsteady, not that you care about or even can properly pick up such nuances at the time. “I will leave your new partner to release you. I hope we can still be friends.” You have not been capable of coherent speech for quite some time now so you will never know if he understood that you are trying to thank him. Diana has the willpower to show him to the door and say the polite goodbyes before rushing back into the living room.

Making soothing sounds and assuring you you will be alright she helps you out of your bonds and helps you walk to the bathroom. You barely have the strength to stand and sitting down is not an option even though your bottom only got four strokes so you kneel with your palms supporting you against the edge of the bathtub while Diana fusses around, wiping clean the (relatively few) spots where the skin looks broken; you grind your teeth as the cleansing wipe burns you. Once she is satisfied she starts applying copious amounts of cream all over you; she must have brought supplies of her own because you are certain you did not have this much. You moan in pleasure at the cooling sensation; somehow, despite the horrific pain you feel little but certain touches of desire and Diana works on your poor breasts. You know you are not going to do anything about it, not now, but it is good to know you can enjoy yourself in this way so soon after such an ordeal.

Once the cream has dried a bit you have the cup of herbal tea Diana made you and allow yourself to be led to bed. Despite the early hour she climbs in with you and although you are still very uncomfortable pains seems to be losing ground in the battle for your mind, retreating before the soothing twilight darkness, the pleasant coolness, the warm touch of clasped hands, the soft breathing of your girlfriend. You know she is awake and watching you, but that somehow is even better. You do not know where the semi-consciousness ends and actual sleep begins, but begin it does. You wake up once when it is already pitch dark from a nightmare of being turned over a giant grill but a few gasps later you remember where you really are. With a sigh of relief you gingerly roll closer to Diana and fall asleep again.