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New and helpless (BDSM Whip Play)

This work Copyright (C) 2001, by Caitlain McCarren. I

reserve all rights of distribution not otherwise expressly

granted herein.

Should you like my works and wish to add my story to your

collection, you are at liberty to do so for personal use as

proscribed by the Berne Convention and U. S. Copyright law

pertaining to fair use. In addition, electronic

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rights to such transmission.

In addition, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to

or association with persons living or dead is coincidental.

I describe situations, which without proper care could cause

bodily harm or injury. Fiction is best left as such. Don't

attempt any of what is described herein without providing

utmost care and consideration before the fact.

To close, this story, while work of fiction, describes adult

situations. If you are not yet of the age of majority, or

if accessing, reading, possessing, or distributing material

of this nature is illegal in your community; or if such

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begin.



















"Mistress," I cried, "this is terribly uncomfortable."

"Yes dear, I know."

"Mistress, could these be loosened," Iasked?

"No."

"It hurts, Mistress," I said.

"I know it hurts, wench, it's supposed to. Do quiet down,

lest you make it neccessary to gag you."

I let an uncomfortable period wind out, squirming in my

bonds, and exclaimed, "Mistress, this really hurts a lot."

"Shut the fuck up, wench, you serve me best when you are

silent."

"But it, ow!"

"If you speak out of turn again you will force me to gag you

and beat you. Are you new?"

"Yes, Mistress," I said. "Thank you, Mistress."

"There are some rules you are to follow while in my presence.

The first and foremost is, SILENCE, wench. Do not speak

unless neccessary. Usually this means don't speak unless

posed an interrogative. It is sometimes allowed to speak if

you are in imminent danger of bodily injury. Exception

occurs when I placed you in danger of bodily injury, and you

all ready have my full attention."

"Speaking is discouraged because it indicates that you have

some ability to change what is, or what is to be. You do

not. It is that simple. Do you understand, wench."

"Yes, Mistress. I understand, Mistress. I'm not to speak,

Mistress," I babbled.

"Good, short sentences, clearly defined answers, one would do

well to answer in just that fashion."

After what seemed another interminable period of unknown

time, I blurted out, "Mistress, when may I be released from my

bonds?"

"Good grief, you are insufferable. That last utterance will

cost you the bite of the whip. Do not vex me so. You will

be released when I release you, no sooner."

"Yes, Mistress," I complain, "but this bondage pains me so. Could it not be

loosened somewhat?"

"That utterance will cost you eleven more bites of the whip,

wench. You seem to be stupid. Were you captured or did you

submit?"

"I was captured, Mistress," I said. "Could you release me please?"

"No. The fact that you were captured bought you this last bit

of sympathy from me, but, I warn you, vex me not again. You

are to remain silent until such time as I tell you different.

You are a slave. Here you have no control over anything but

your submission. The rules of submission are few, and

in addition to the aforementioned injunction of speaking,

include total submission. You must yield to me in all things

I don't specify overtly. Simply, this means you must ask my

permission to do anything, anything at all."

"Next, it is expected that you will obey any command I give

you, and anything I say is a command, wench."

"Last, it is expected that you will comply with my wishes and

directives. That is to say, it is expected that you will

accede, acquiesce, agree, concede, conform, follow, or to

otherwise observe any thought I may speak or any command I

may voice, immediately, without hesitation, exactly, to the

best of your limited ability."

"I now give you liberty to answer two questions. Consider

well your answers before you utter them, lest you cause me to

beat you mercilessly. First do you understand these rules,

silence, submit, obey, and comply? The answer had better be

yes."

"Yes, Mistress," I answer, complying.

"Better, wench. Follow the rules and hopefully there will be

little need for what I'm about to do. You have left me no

choice, I must punish you for your ill considered outbursts.

Back up to the wall and place your hands upon it, palms flat

but reaching as high up the wall as possible."

I backed up and positioned myself as she requested, jockeying

momentarily, for a good purchase upon the wall and upon the

floor. I knew I would need the bracing.

"Well done, wench. I see an explanation of the rules has

taken hold in that inscrutable little brain. Trust that you

and I will unlock all the miniscule thoughts and fantasies

which inhabit those small lobes. I'm sure we will unlock the

wide expanse of the pleasures of pain for you. We shall

start immediately. You are to keep silent while I administer

your punishment. Not a peep, or I'll administer the full

twelve and twelve more, then we'll start over. Look up at

me, I want to see your expressions of pain and horror."

The pain was excruciating. The first two landed over my

shoulders. The third struck at my stomach between my rib

cage and my navel, biting viciously and knocking the wind out

of me. The next two wrapped around me and struck at both of

my bare buttocks, both high and low, exciting my sex and my

nipples, which hardened tight and high. The sixth struck at

the backs of my thighs. The seventh at the backs of my

knees, causing me to falter and spread them wide. The bitch

took the opportunity to strike, painfully, at the insides of

my thighs, first left side then right. But, I did not move

my feet or hands. I was flushed red, pained more deeply than

I had ever known, helpless as was possible to be, and as

deeply excited as I had been with my best sexual partner.

She paused long enough for me to right myself, as best I

could, and look back up at her. Then in quick succession

came the last of the blows, one on each nipple, right then

left, and down my stomach from waist to sex, seemingly

disemboweling me, and sending me plunging to the floor

suffering wave after wave of crashing pain and pleasure.

She waited patiently, until the sensations died back, and she

could at last be heard over the din of the blood coursing to

my head and through my ears. The next thing I heard froze me

with fear. "I didn't say you could come, you stupid bitch."

I couldn't think or move. If I thought my head was pounding

before, I was positively rattling the china in the cabinet of

my dementia, now. It brought back all the pain, and, all the

crashing pleasure, wave after wave. I desperately wanted it

to stop, but it wouldn't let up. I was desperately afraid

the mistress expected a repeat performance, and I knew I

couldn't live through it, but, it wouldn't stop washing over

me, wave after wave after...

When I came to my senses she was standing over me, kicking me

in the ribs, adding insult to injury. "Back to the real

world, cunt?"

"Stand up!"

I struggled mightily to comply but fell twice, striking my

head once upon the hardwood floor. She assisted me by

grabbing my bound wrists in one hand, my bound elbows in the

other, and twisting the former under the latter until they

rolled under and up my back where she bound them to my neck,

leaving me helpless and in excruciating pain. I couldn't

help myself, I yelped, and winced at having heard my own

voice.

"A poor but marginally acceptable performance, wench. Of

course you will be punished for coming without permission,

twice. You also failed this test, which means twelve more

strokes, and a repeat of this exercise. To impress upon you

the gravity of breaking the rules you will spend three days

standing upright in my presence in posture training

equipment."

"It may be possible to mitigate this transgression of the

rule of submission. We will play a game, these are the

rules. I will ask a question. Answer well and as long as

you remain silent, post, we will set aside this correction,

speaking will immediately reinstate it. Answer poorly and we

will double the terms of the correction and exercise it

immediately. I still expect you will follow the rules from

now on."

"Nod your head up and down if you understand the terms of our

little game."

I nodded affirmatively.

"You may of course simply take the punishment as stated and

we will follow up with an immediate correction, no need to

gamble at all. However, if you should fail the terms of your

correction I shudder to think what my fertile mind may come

up with to punish you further. Simply nod your head up and

down if you care to play. Roll your head side to side if you

do not."

I didn't know what to indicate. One choice, three possible

outcomes, none of which pleased me in the least. "Come,

come, now, my dear. This delay borders on a transgression of

the rule of compliance." I chose to gamble. Monty Hall, she

was not. I indicated my choice by nodding, hopelessly.

"Very well. Now the question. Have you a name dear and what

is it?"

I hesitated again and she flicked the whip, catching me under

the left breast. I bit my lip and did not cry out. A moment

later I blurted out, risking her wrath, "Mistress, I seek

clarification. Would it be acceptable to answer your

question with a question?

"Intriguing! All right, because you are new and because I

sense guile I would punish anyway, you may answer with a

question. Try me not. This better be worth the effort for

your sake."

"Mistress, would you like me to have a name and if so what

would it be?"

"Well done! You have indeed answered well. Remember keep

silent from now on and don't think yourself too clever. You

have one credit brought about by fear, necessity, and

obligation. Do not test the waters of your lesser position

again. You may not be so clever or lucky next time."

"By the way, deary, if you did once have a name keep it to

yourself. Better to forget it entirely, if you can. You

will have no need for a name here at all. Forget your name

and any life you thought you had outside of this room, lest

you force me to erase it entirely. Soon enough your old
identity will be subsumed by the new one we will create

together."



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* Implied *

* Subjection, but requir'd with gentle sway, *

* And by her yielded, by him best receiv'd, -- *

* Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, *

* And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. *

* *

* Milton's Paradise Lost, book iv, Line 307. *

* *

* Something to say from the submissive's point of view? *

* Hard to find the "right" words? Want it in a story? *

* Tell me about it by mail at caitmccarren@yahoo.com. *

* *

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