As my Whip Master gazed at my body, stretched out and ready for His lash, I closed my eyes sinking deep into erotic tension.  He could tell my body was alive, waiting for His first stroke and ready to receive His marks.  I moan aloud as His Whip licks my thighs like a red hot tongue, making me writhe against the solid wooden frame.  The world begins to gray out and I lose count of how many times His Whip finds its mark.  I drift in a place between Heaven and Hell, never really sure of when I am going to completely let go of reality

.

Daddy senses this and comes to care for me.  He holds a bottle of water to my parched lips and I greedily drink it down.  He tells me to turn around and face the wooden frame and I willingly comply.  It feels good for me to move and stretch my muscles, and climb on the wooden slats.  Daddy loves to set me free on the frame because He likes to see me move my body to my own inner rhythms and He knows that this is how I best process the sting and pain of His lash.

I can feel that He is using the Flexible Flogger again and I am realizing that I am beginning to develop a real love hate relationship for this device.  I have always preferred the pleasant thud of a heavy Flogger to the kind of stinging sensation that I was, in that moment receiving, and Daddy knew this fact very well.  In my own mind, I was imagining that He was punishing me for my flagrant and willful disobedience by not warming me up sufficiently and I began to seriously repent in my Universe for my indiscretions.

When He was done with the Flogger, He brought out His Cat O’ Nine Tails.  At some point, Daddy came up to me again to pour more water down my throat and to soothe my heated skin with His wonderful soft lambskin mitt.  I always loved for my Daddy to stoke me with this mitt because it felt so soft and sensual and provided a temporary respite to the intensity of the scene.

When I turned to face the rack once again, the Whip Master began His next routine with His small Signal Whip, cracking it loudly next to my head.  As I always do, I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of it.  Daddy has told me that the reason the whip cracks like this is because it is traveling so fast that it breaks the sound barrier.  I don’t really understand all that technical stuff but what I know for sure is that the crack of His whip terrifies me and sends chills through my blood and sometimes causes my legs to tremble uncontrollably.  There are times when I feel like the contents of my bladder will just fall out of me from my total inability to control bodily functions.

I am in a time warp and my sense of time and space has all but disappeared.  I can hear my Daddy cracking two Whips at once and suddenly the skin of my back and buttocks are being deluged by the Master’s double handing Florentine strokes which feel like tiny drops of liquid fire raining down upon me.  When Daddy applies this particular technique to me, I always allow myself to sink further into a bliss filled abyss of pleasurable torment where I drift for what seems like forever.