Alyx's First Whipping
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Since I was a thirteen-year-old boy, I have always wanted to be tied up and whipped. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. Well, finally, it has happened. Just last night. It took over thirty years for my dream to come true, but it was worth the wait.
I was in New York, on vacation, and discovered a place where men can go to explore such interests. Needless to say, I was there. I went into a secluded room and sat on a chair, barechested, not really expecting anything to happen, but enjoying the expectation and the fantasy none-the-less. In my hands I held two long strips of black rawhide, which I was slowly braiding into a home-made whip. My fantasy was that someone would come in and see me there, and decide to use it on me. I wasn't expecting much, since I am now overweight and middle-aged, but still, the yearning of young Alyx cried from within with the cry I have heard for so, so often.
A short Chinese fellow came in and cheerfully asked me what I wanted. I told him that I was a "beginner," and he took the whip out of my hands, still smiling at me, and began lashing it through the air, striking my shoulders and torso. "C'mon," he told me, "I'll tie you up and whip you." I protested. "C'mon," he urged, "you'll like it. You know you need it." Couldn't protest there. And, much to my surprise, I went, far more calmly than I thought I could.
Several things helped make it easy to surrender to him: he was cheerful and friendly; this might well be my only chance; it was, after all a public place, and therefore safer, and there weren't too many people around to witness what would turn out to be an intense scene of subjection.
Anyway, he took me to a back cubicle where there was a whipping post in the form of a large X. It was so easy to go with him, to let him take my wrists and tie them behind my back, and then to truss me to the whipping post. He struck me a few times on the back and slapped me around a bit while I got used to the idea of being subject to his will. Then he undid my pants and pulled everything down to my boots, leaving me bound and exposed to the view of those who had gathered around to watch.
When he began, I quickly forgot the crowd. I closed my eyes and bowed my head as the lashing began and slowly grew in intensity. I began to groan as the lashes stung more than I had expected, and the groan came from somewhere deep within me. It was easy for me to imagine myself the young boy, stripped naked, bound, and receiving his first taste of the lash.
He held something to my nose to sniff. I inhaled deeply, and it did something to me that I'd never felt before. Immediately he began whipping my butt, by thighs, my back, and I sank into the beating reaching out for it as my body slumped against the roped that bound m e to the post. Naturally, hungrily, it seemed, I pushed my butt as far out as it could go, admitting within myself that this was something I needed so badly, and offering myself to his whip, an obedient boy, knowing that far worse would come if he didn't submit completely. It also occurred to me, and thrilled me beyond description, that it felt so natural to be bound and that I was being flogged, in full view of others, and the pain was more than I had ever felt before.
He began to work on my nipples, gently, a bit too gently at first, but I dared not ask for more because if I had assumed that amount of control, the spell would have been broken. He turned me around and bound me tighter, allowed me to sniff again from his bottle, and then went to work on my nipples very briefly, but quite intensely. For an instant, he took me beneath the surface, to a point of pain that frightened me even as I welcomed it. As I say, it was only for a moment, but I know now that I'd like to return to that place again.
Much more happened, more than needs to be told, except for this:
He began to use a belt on me, far more severely than he'd done before. It hurt, really hurt. I tried to surrender to it, and even imagined it was real punishment for sins of the past. But it proved too much for me. I began to cry out: the first time in my life I'd ever yelped involuntarily from the taste of a whip. Finally, I had to beg him to stop, another thing I'd never done before.
He stopped and told me he'd give me a couple of minutes to relax. I was going to ask him to stop and untie me, but for some reason I didn't. I knew I needed to go farther for him, since my level of submission was obviously pleasing him.
He stopped and sat back, and a few of the men who were watching congratulated him for doing such a good job (they congratulated him, not me!!!). Then he returned, slapped me a few times and patted my pot belly and said, "You are bad. You have been eating too much. Now I punish you for that." And, with the belt, harder than ever before, he gave me 5 lashes on the sorest part of my butt, and for the first time in my life, I learned what it meant to be punished on my naked body. And I knew that deep within me, young Alyx was naked, welted and weeping. And that this was not a sexual encounter; it was primal.