Tina in Saudi Arabia, part 4

Early in the morning, the heavy iron door to my cell was opened by a female warden whom I had never seen before. After she had cuffed my hands behind my back she unfastened the chain from the iron ring in the wall and led me out through the corridor. In the semi-darkness I could see the faces of anonymous women behind the bars and I realized they all knew what I was about to face. I was only wearing a thin linen robe and the chilly air gave me goosebumps all over and my nipples were hard and stiff. With my hands cuffed behind my back and my eyes lowered, I followed the woman in silence. Her duty was to prepare me for my flogging. At first I received an enema in the bathroom, bending over the toilet stool. She inserted a nozzle in my sore anus and soon I felt the warm water from the tank on a shelf flowing into me. I felt my bowels being filled by litres by litres of water and my belly was swelling. Then she made me sit down on the toilet and after I had emptied my bowels of all the water, the procedure was repeated. When she had made sure I was completely purged, she dragged me to the shower and started to soap me while she let the water stream over my body. At first, the water was warm and nice, then she changed the tap to ice-cold water which felt like needles into my skin and I lost my breath from the shock. She rubbed me dry with a rough towel and I could not help that the harsh treatment triggered a wellknown fire that spread through my loins. She avoided looking into my eyes, but I could now and then get a glimpse of her beautiful dark eyes and her round, soft breasts that were heaving under her white blouse. I started fantasizing about what it would be like to romp around in bed with this shapely, raven-haired beauty…. I could almost feel her ripe lips upon my body… kisses, her teeth biting into my flesh… first gently, then harder…. the way her hands, her lips and tongue would drive me crazy with lust…. I blushed at the thought. “Yes”, I thought, “I definitely am a slut. A slut ruled by her sex... and it is only rightful that I shall be whipped for my sins”. After she had dried me it was time for my medical examination. All conversations between the doctor and the woman was carried out in Arabic, but I understood from the voice of the doctor that I was perfectly fit and that there was no medical risks whatsoever to carry out the punishment, giving me my first fifty lashes today. The first fifty of a five thousand…. After the examination a hard rubber plug was inserted into my anus and fastened by a small thong of leather around my waist. The doctor surprised me by giving me a playful smack with his palm on my right buttock and that made me blush even more, as I was led away by the beautiful female warden.

She led me out in the yard to a waiting big black bus with bars before the window. After a slow drive through the city, the bus stopped near a big square and as the door was opened, the heat hit me like a shock. Thousands of spectators had gathered to see me being flogged and there was no making a mistake about the excitement and the anticipation among the public. Over the huge crowd a monotonous, neutral voice could be heard over a big loudspeaker system and I realized that it was the morning prayer that was read from a minaret. After this prayer, the first part of my flogging sentence would be carried out. The sun was rising and the very long prayer made me even more nervous as the minutes ticked away. The sun was rising and the paving stones burned the soles of my bare feet as I was lead by the chain from the car by the man that were using me as his personal sextoy each and every day. I was completely naked under the white robe, which reached down to my knees. It surprised me that no efforts were made to cover my body in view of the shocking behaviour I was sentenced for. I could see by the knowing looks from many men (and women) in the crowd that they could see how my stiff nipples – harder than ever before – were outlined through the thin fabrics of the robe. “What a whore” I could see them thinking. “Here she is… about to be whipped to shreads and yet her body cannot react in another way.” “Yes”, I thought, “I must be a lost soul… a sinful, lusty, wanton slut… and so it is absolutely right that I shall be punished in the hardest possible ways.” I could not possibly raise my eyes and blushing, I followed my tormentor in his footsteps with my eyes focused on the cobblestones below us. My hair fell down over my eyes and my lips were tightly pressed together.

We entered a big platform that had been built in the centre of the square. It was a high wooden platform with a big wooden frame. Heavy iron cuffs for my ankles and wrists were hanging down by chains from the frame. He lead me to the frame and at first, he chained my wrists high above my head and pulled the chains so that my arms were stretched to the side as long as possible. He then fastened the chains in this poaition and repeated the procedure with my ankles. This resulted in my body being stretched in the form of an “X”. In the middle of the frame there was a wide, beam from left to right and it had thick leather straps fastened to it. The straps were tightened across my waist and the widest strap had a thick padded cushon on it, which, I understood, was intended to protect my kidneys from too hard blows. After all, I was supposed to survive all the five thousand lashes in order to be branded at the end of my public floggings. What would happen after that? At the moment I could not think further than just surviving the day. Several rods of bamboo, each around two metres long, stuck up from a big bath of some antiseptic liquid, I reckoned. While I was staring at the sharp canes in awe, a monotonous voice started reading something from a written document from the platform. I realized that it was my sentence being read out in public for the first time – and also the form of punishment I would receive. Cheers and laughters could be heard from the huge crowd and everybody’s eyes were focused on my body. My tormentor stood behind me, only dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and rough leather shoes. I could not see him but I knew his huge muscles would be playing all over his body. The doctor that had examined me was also present at the platform in order to attend my flogging and, if need be, stop it. This would not be done, however, until my life was at risk.

Then the time had come! The doctor and the man reading my sentence backed off and my tormentor and secret lover chose a cane and walked around the edge of the platform, swishing the cane and letting his powerful arm muscles play. Some drops of the liquid in which the cane had been kept landed on my bare skin and it made me jump from shock as if somebody has burnt me with a glowing cigarette. My breathing became faster and heavier like I has been running and I could hear the man stepping back before he rushed at me, swung the long sharp rod, laying his entire weight behind it. WHOOOSH!! CRACKK! The rod hissed through the air and immediately after, a flash of fire and pain shout through my body and I screamed on the top of my lungs. I screamed in terror and I pulled desperately at my bonds to no avail. This was worse than anything I could possibly have imagined. Tears were flowing down my face and from the trail of fire that burned across my back, a horrible pain spread through every nerve in my body. I could not comprehend how anything could hurt so much… it was a pain which I had never experienced. In spite of all the times he had been whipping me with his belt, he had never ever hurt me so much. He calmly backed away and dipped the cane into the liquid while he admired the result of his handiwork. It was impossible for me to say where the cane would bite next time. Oh God, how can I possibly survive 50 lashes this hard…. nobody could… he’s going to kill me…..

He waited a couple of minutes to allow me to catch my breath and let the pain really sink into my body. My tormented cries spread over the square, but my pulse was going down a bit and I started to get control of my breathing again, although the pain from this very first lash was growing in intensity continuously. It felt like somebody was holding a red hot iron against my skin, pressing it deeper all the time….. This made me think of the branding that was in store for me after all five thousand lashes had been administred. I felt so utterly helpless and I was crying and sobbing until I then again was torn apart by a terribly hard lash, this time right across my buttocks. Totally blinded by tears I screamed and hollered in desperation: “Can’t you see that he is whipping the life out of me! Why aren’t you doing anything? Please, help me…” Seconds after, the sharp rod once again bit deep into my buttocks, this time right across the cut of the previous lash. From my throat came a guttural sound and I could feel that my skin has been broken so that blood was trickling down my thighs.

I must confess that he was a master of art in the use of whip and rod. All the time was driving me crazy with horror by causing me a pain that was worse than I could have expected. Then he let the worst shock of pain ebb out before he struck again. And, by God, did he whip me hard! In my pain-drugged mind I was wondering if my body would ever be free from these marks of shame…. that is, if I was going to survive this terrible torture at all. At times, several hard strokes fell in rapid succession, while at other times he let me wait and suffer for a long time before he laid on a new savage stroke. Because of this irregularity I did not know when he would strike again or how long my suffering would last. As he laid three very hard sharp cracking strokes one after another into my already battered, swollen and bleeding buttocks, I had had too much. My cries faded away and I could feel myself slipping into a mercifull darkness, where my pains were vanishing like magic. “If this is the end, then I welcome it”, was my last thought. I must have received about twenty lashes when I fainted for the first time. The doctor advanced to me as I was hanging unconscious in my shackles and after a short examination he gestured that the flogging could continue. I was brought back to life by the sharp smell of ammonia and to my horror, I realized that I was still very much alive and that my suffering was far from over. The doctor took the bottle away from under my nose and withdraw silently.

The white robe has been totally torn to pieces by the strokes of the sharp cane and as the frame was leaning slightly forward, the bloody pieces of fabric hung down from my body. I realized that by now everybody in the audience could see my naked body and I knew that the back of my body was covered by bloody streaks and deep scars. The scorching sun burnt my tormented skin like fire and at irregular intervals, somebody sponged my scars with liquor. This burnt like fire and added even more to my unbearable pain. I felt like I was losing my mind. The biting rod that was ripping my body to pieces had thrown me into a world of pain and madness which I could never in my wildest dreams have imagined. I don’t know if I screamed it out loud or just formed the words in my brain, but suddenly it was flashing through my mind like a mantra, while the excruciating pain chocks just kept on coming… and growing in intensity: “Tina Larsson, whore… slash bloody streaks into the whore... Swedish slut… now she's getting what she deserves…. harder… hurt her…. whip her into a bloody pulp… mark her for eternity with your whip… harder… Tina is a whore…. sinful, horny, wanton slaveslut Tina… yes, I am a cheap whore… a horny slut that deserves to be whipped… whip me hard… harder…. HARDER!!!! Oh God, please hurt me more…. must have it... please give me the rod... oh God, give him the power to whip me even harder... whip me to shreads… don’t ever stop…. please, more… hurt me, HURT MEEEEEEE!!!! Tina Larsson… horniest slut in the world… today being whipped in front of thousands of people… it’s so right… I deserve it… torture me, whip me to shreads, please more…. the barefoot whore Tina Larsson is being flogged in Saudi Arabia… what great happiness…. in the hands of the most cruel one of them all…. let me wear the marks of your whip and your rod on my sinful body for eternity… blond horny Swedish slut being whipped publically… Tina Larsson, at last you get it!!!! Please, hurt me more…..” ¨

I could not understand what was happening but in my pain-drugged mind I felt myself sliding into another world and finally, I was so desperately horny that I didn’t know what to do. My sex was gaping shamessly open and I knew that everybody could see my juices flowing, how wet I was… it was flowing down my legs… The endorphin high made me mad with lust and I fainted several times, as much from the pain shocks as from my extreme arousal. In my crazy pain-drugged mind the biting rod had become an addiction and in my minds eye I could see myself lying on my back on the podium after the flogging… everybody wanting to fuck me could come forward and freely do me over… hard and brutal… the harder, the better… in my mouth, ass and my pussy…. just come and take me… the horny slut Tina Larsson, freshly flogged and desperate with lust… Tina Larsson of Sweden… raped by thousands of men after being flogged… I had never experienced anything like it. The pain sent me on a trip that no drugs in the world could ever have done. It is beyond doubt that the man whipping me knew exactly what he was doing and he realized that I, his private sextoy, had now been driven to a lust beyond comprehension and he knew what a horny slut he would have at his disposal when we got back to my cell… oh, God, how I longed to be back in my cell to be used by this man who was driving me crazy with his extremely hard lashes.

I had lost count of the number of strokes long ago and I had no idea as of how long the terrible torture had been going on, but finally my tormentor put the rod aside and went down to the frame for releasing me. I was totally exhausted and could not move, but I was still conscious. He turned my body over, forced me down on my knees and cuffed my hands high above my head. He stretched the chain holding the cuffs maximally and then fastened the cuffs around my ankles again. The frame was raised a bit, thus stretching the chains holding my wrists even more and the frame pushing into my back made my breasts stick out, being exposed in all their glory. The rests of the bloody robe now lay on the platform beside me and I could now for the first time see the man that had been flogging me. When he raised his cane again the insight of what he intended to do flashed through my mind, and the last five lashes dug into my breasts with a frenzy and a swiftness like never before, he succeeded in administring all the last five lashes before I passed out from the extreme pain. Already the first stroke sent me into a terrible fire of pain on my way towards the darkness, but I could also experience the four successive strokes…. how he struck in wild rage, sweat pouring down his face… his teeth grimly bit together and with the eyes of an obsessed… at the fraction of a second while I was drifting into unconsiousness I reflected that now he must have lost control and is going to far. Then I was embraced by the lovely, soothing darkness and with deep, bloody scars in my breasts, I passed out hanging in my shackles.