Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

The Whipping Post

I just love the smell and the sounds of a good fire. I’m far enough away that I don’t have to shield my naked body, but close enough to feel the warmth radiating from it. The low flickering flames throw a cascade of shadows across the grass and mix in with the muted lighting set up to highlight the whipping frame.

Whilst I was passed out from my orgasm ordeal, Josh, Stephen, and Sir had assembled the frame that Stephen had bought with him. It resembled an old style jail ‘A’ shaped whipping frame. The wood was solid, smooth and polished. The frame had various locations for the attachment of ropes and chains. My legs were already tied to the frame and Sir was busy with securing my arms to the top. I couldn’t see what Stephen was doing but I suspect he was readying the whip, whatever that entails.

I was feeling a lot more relaxed since waking from my nap. Bianca was kind enough to give me an all over massage to work the stiffness from my body. She may have also strayed a bit, but who am I to complain. I’m actually hopeful that Josh will allow Sir  to play with Bianca and me tomorrow after everyone else has left. We are staying on another night as our flight couldn’t be arranged until Monday morning. It’s been a while since Sir and I have gotten to play with someone else together, and Bianca seems like a sub we could both enjoy.

After dinner all of the men organized their seating where they could get a good view of the whipping frame and a ringside view of the show I was about to be part of. Stephen, being the ultimate showman, decided he would conduct a small pre-show demonstration using an assortment of whips and floggers. With all of us subs sitting at the feet of our respective Doms, Stephen demonstrated various techniques using an assortment of whips, floggers and few canes. You could see why he had brought Jessica along. She took everything Stephen gave her. Only on two occasions did you hear any sound. I’d heard that she was an extreme masochist, something that I had no trouble believing after witnessing the display.

I hope Stephen was not expecting me to be silent. I don’t think I have any chance of not crying out.

The rope around my wrist was pulled tight, bringing me back to the present. Preparations were nearly complete for the demonstration with the bullwhip. I am surprised as a hood is pulled down over my head. I had hoped to be more present to experience the ordeal. Oh well, I assume that they are expecting my cries to be quite loud and they want to mute them. Just as the hood covers my face I hear Stephen say to Sir that the hood was a safety provision. Whilst he is confident he won’t miss he said that he would hate to pull out some of my gorgeous hair, let alone any consideration as to how much that would hurt.

The hood is them rotated on my head with the opening zipper in front of my face, leaving me free to express myself in full voice. Stephen leaves my field of view, I assume getting into position. Sir leans in and reminds me that this was a punishment and that he expects me to try and take what Stephen throws at me. He also reminds me that I can use my safe word with him and he will stop the demonstration. I am grateful that he alone would hear me say it if I couldn’t endure any more, so that  I don’t feel like a failure and try and  push myself too far.

It was like I was super charged. I felt even the  slightest sensations as I waited for the first blow. My nerves were just hanging on. Whilst I’ve had some wonderfully challenging beatings in the past, I’ve never experienced a bullwhip, and never been whipped by an expert. Oh dear, what have I gotten my self into.

“Shit”, I hear coming from my lips, followed by laughter from the assembled crowd. The crack of the whip was so loud it startled me. My body struggled against the frame with futility. The whip wasn’t even being aimed at me, but merely Stephen getting in a warm up swing. Okay, so this is happening.


A soft one to start me off. At least, I hope it’s a soft one. Snap. And another. Hmmm, I think, this isn’t so bad. It’s almost a caress. I could get to like this. Like an static shock across my back.


The sound is out of my mouth before I register the crack of the whip or the burning sensation across my right ass cheek. The next stroke leaves a corresponding stinging to my left ass cheek. The next four strokes alternate between my ass cheeks. It feels like a deliberate placement in the shape of a cross. I hope they stay around for a bit, they will look really good.

Right, I better start focusing on what’s going on. I don’t for a minute believe that this is the level of intensity Stephen is going to be happy with. In my floaty space I can hear him talking to everyone but I can’t make out what he is saying.

Fuck”, escapes my lips before I can help myself. That hurt. From my right shoulder blade across my back in a diagonal line of pain. Before I can recover if feel the next blow, in a crossing pattern once more but this time lower on my back. My breathing has become a bit labored and I’m have a little difficulty balancing my weight. I hear Sir check in with me and I just give him a small nod of the head. He retreats a short distance so that he doesn’t inadvertently become part of the demonstration.

The next four strokes are even more intense and I can fell my resolve slipping away. This is as hard as I thought it would be. I can’t tell where the whip is falling now as my whole back is alive with pain. I hear the next crack of the whip, followed by a small gasp from the crowd. I soon realize why, as I feel a wetness on my shoulder blade. He’s drawn blood. Sir leans in again and I again try and reassure him that I’m okay and want to continue. He looks a little worried but steps back.

Another blow lands on my back and I can feel another small trickle of blood. I think I’m done, but before I can safeword to Sir I see him step around the frame and announce to everyone that the demonstration is over and that they should show some appreciation to Stephen and to me. As the applause dies down, Sir unties me, wraps me in my blanket and picks me up. Just before he carries me away Stephen comes over to check how I am. I manage half a smile and reassure him I enjoyed the experience.

Sir had anticipated how I would be feeling after the whipping and had brought a soft pillow down from the house. He sat me down in front of his chair. The bleeding marks on my back weren’t too deep, as he cleaned and bandaged them quickly. Then he lay me down on the pillow. He gave me a KitKat (my favorite candy bar) and with a “Good girl” covered me with my blanket. As I came back from subspace I stared at the fire and he rubbed my back. The chocolate tasted almost as good as knowing that I had pleased him.

**This is another installment in the Twitter Boyfriend’s and my Tale of Rye. Check out the previous chapters, Prey on Me and Cum-uppance. This is also my contribution to the Kink of the Week topic of ‘Safewords’. I believe they are important, but as they story illustrates, a Dominant can sometimes know your limits too.

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7 Responses to “The Whipping Post”

  • ancilla ksst

    Ahhhh, I loved being whipped. This is a great story.

  • Molly

    We have had those moments many times, where the Safeword is right on my lips but he stops just as I am about to say it. It only serves to convince me even more that he can see inside my head


  • Rebecca

    As we are beginning this journey all these articles about safe words are incredibly thought provoking with the various views and enlightening. I am astounded at the absolute trust that if the safe word is used it is adhered too.

  • BibulousOne

    I love this – both because it is a very hot scene (whichever end of the whip I picture myself to be) and because I love the moment where the Dom knows exactly when it has been enough. I have felt that same moment, where one more stroke would be too much, but she just stops exactly then. Lovely

  • Livvy Libertine

    This is an amazing read and I love that everything stopped just before it was too much. I agree I feel like my partner is psychic when it comes to stopping just short of too much. And think I might request that candy be added into my aftercare. 🙂


  • Bee

    I too have a psychic partner, he knows me better than I know myself. Yes, mistakes have been made on both our parts but that’s how we grow…together.

  • Kayla Lords

    Oh my, that was intense…in all the best ways. And I love that he stepped in before you had to use a safeword. To me, that’s the best feeling – of being seen and known and understood so well.


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