The Power Of the Crop

It's so wonderful when I feel my entire body being filled with energy... the power running through every nerve, making me stronger... each time I feel the stinging riding crop smacking real hard into my flesh I gasp from lust and pain and beg for another one, harder please... and then another... the pain spreads like a wonderful heat through my body and make me healed, content... and, yes, horny... ;-) please don't stop...

Erica in the hands of The Inquisition

Here's to you, Erica. I hope you will enjoy it.

It could have been just because she needed a rest from the sunny hot weather outside that Erica ended up in the museum. Actually she had never been there before. Yet she soon realized that she had come there for a purpose. Yes, she was destined to discover that very special painting which was displayed in one of the smaller rooms dedicated to more obscure artists.It was a huge colour painting done in a style which reminded Erica of the wellknown Dutch masters like Rembrandt and others. Not only were every detail extremely realistic but ther was a certain luster over the painting which created a very special athmosphere. The name of the artist meant nothing to her but she was mesmerized by the scene depicted. It was the interior of a torture chamber with many sinister looking devices and several men dressed in brown robes, brandishing whips. Another man was sitting behind a desk, taking notes. Everybody seemed to be waiting for something. Suddenly Erica realized what was missing in the painting. The victim of the Inquisition. Everything was ready to go but for some reason the artist had chosen to let the spectators’ fantasy visualize what would later happen as their helpless victim would be dragged into this chamber of horror to be made to confess anything the cruel men wanted to. Erica was so attracted by the scene that she didn’t realize how time was flying away and when suddenly a male voice alerted her that it was closing time she knew she couldn’t leave. She slowly walked towards the exit with the sound of her high heels echoing between the stone walls. As the guard disappeared around the corner into another room she opened the entrance door and then shut it loudly, then swiftly took off her shoes and went tiptoeing back towards the room with that very special painting. She looked for a place to hide and as luck would have it she found an open door to a small stockroom. Erica quickly slid in and hid behind a big cupboard. She waited in awe hardly daring to breathe. Suddenly the door slammed tight and a key turned in the lock.

Fortunately the door could be opened from inside which Erica had noticed when she jumped into her hiding place.She waited for what seemed like hours and then slowly walked out of the stockroom. Before doing anything else she lit a cigarette and hope that there would be no smoke detectors around. She blowed puffs of smoke in various directions and the purpose of this was to detect any infra red light rays which might be connected to an alarm. She discovered two such rays but her passage to the exit from the room with the special painting was safe. Erica started walking slowly towards the painting and feeling of the cold stone floor under her bare feet made her shiver with excitement. Soon she was standing in the dark before the painting and she could feel a sense of lust and excitement building up within her. She realized that the victim would soon be in place, that the door to the other side had been opened for her and that there would be no turning back. She closed her eyes, concentrating, visualizing, praying.

All of a sudden she felt a chilling wind caressing her bare skin and she realized that she was kneeling on the stone floor, totally naked. Her long silky blonde hair was held in a firm grip so that her head was pushed back. She dared not raise her eyes at the man who spoke to her.- Are you at this time prepared to confess the sin of blasphemy, the dark voice thundered. As she did not answer, the next thing she knew was a searing pain shock that made her lose her breath. She felt like thousands of red hot needles had been pressed into her back and her screams were silenced by several hard slaps across her face. She could feel blood trickling down her back and she caught a brief glimpse of the heavy scourge that was being used on her. Each lash had hundreds of small spikes imbedded and this ferocious torture instrument would leave several deep bleeding wounds on impact. It could easily cut her flesh to shreds. The question was asked again without an answer. The whip again. Erica thought she could take it no more. If this was a dream it was certainly the most realistic dream she had ever experienced. The scourge bit into her back, buttocks and thighs again and again opening up many new bleeding wounds and the pain was simply excrutiating. Yet she realized that she would not confess. It was important that she did not confess no matter if they whipped the life out of her.

Suddenly the torturers decided to try something else. A man walked slowly towards her holding two heavy metal, egg-formed objects. They were obviously very hot as he shifted them from hand to hand all the time. The eggs were pressed into the poor girl’s armpits and then her arms were strapped tightly to her body. Erica’s desperate screams of pain drowned every other sound and the pain as the hot metal burnt into her flesh was simply too much. Erica passed out.

As she came to she was bent over a bench, tightly chained to it in a position which left her wide open from assaults from behind. One of her tortures put a metal device into her mouth, something known as a torture pear. When turning a screw the object expanded within her mouth until her jaws were on the brink of being dislocated. She felt a hard grip on her hips and next an unknown man was furiously battering away at her tight anus in order to sodomize her. Finally he succeeded to break through the tight puckered passage between her lacerated buttocks and he did it so hard that Erica split up and started to bleed. The pain was so intense that she almost passed out again as his masterful manhood pumped so deep into her that his heavy balls smacked against her buttocks. As he roared from savage lust and shot load after load of his gism into her ravaged hole, Erica could feel another man taking his place and starting to use her now wide open passage. Her ordeal never seemed to end, as if there was a long line of men standing and waiting for their turn to use her. Everybody wanted to use her anally and Erica was certain that her rectum would be damaged forever.

As the torture pear was removed it was now time for Erica to use her mouth to satisfy her torturers in the best way she could. She had no doubt that they were capable of anything so she simply didn’t dare to disobey. Erica was made kneeling on the floor as she took one huge erected cock after another in her mouth and every time they shot their load into her they held her head tight to ensure that she swallowed it all. When everybody had used her for what felt like hours, a huge brute of a man held her arms behind her and by the grip of her hair forced her head backwards so that her breasts stuck out. Sofar they had been saved from torture but that was now to change. The man in front of her was brandishing a long, whippy bamboo cane and he struck it hard against a hardwood table so the cane split. Then he dipped the splintered cane into a bucket of salt solution and raised the now dangerous weapon over his head. Splintered bamboo cuts very deep and his target was Erica’s tender breasts. Already after three strokes both her breasts were totally covered in blood and the poor girl passed out again.

When Erica woke up she was lying in her bed, spread-eagled, masturbating. Yes, she had obviously been masturbating in her sleep and kept on coming again again. But the fantastic thing about this dream was that she could actually feel the pain. Her entire body was on fire and she was so week that she could hardly move. Her armpits hurt excrutiatingly and to her horror she could see vivid red branding marks from the hot iron eggs. She managed to get up and into the bathroom. She gasped from the shock when she saw all scars on her body from the scourge. Her back, buttocks and thighs were covered by scars and wounds, as were her breasts. Especially her breasts had very deep, painful scars although they had stopped bleeding. Her anus felt like a red hot iron bar had been showed into her.Erica fell to the floor, totally unable to understand what had happened to her – or if it had really happened at all. But the pain and the marks on her body were as good proof as any and sweet Erica knew that she had to be back at the museum again very soon.

A figging masturbating session and my Facebook adventures

Yes, I have joined Facebook. As if it wasn’t enough neglecting my blog and you, my dear blog friends, I have now another plight hanging over me. But isn’t it after all a question about procrastination? I often think about things I would like to tell you but somehow something comes in between and day after day go by without a sign of life from me. Anyway, I must say that Facebook is an interesting possibility of creating new contacts and I have made many new friends there. One of these very special friends is an Aussie girl by the name of Erica and somehow we seem to have struck the right chord with each other. Something which lead us to a mutual masturbating session as we were chatting with each other on the Facebook chat.

I have told you earlier about the painful joy I experienced when using a piece of ginger root inserted into my anus when masturbating. This is a most special feeling and it simply drives me crazy with lust. It burns deeper and deeper, it’s like having glowing coal pressed into your rectum and the burning sensation just keep on growing all the time. My new friend sweet Erica had never tried it before so I suggested she put a peeled ginger root into her tight orifice as we were talking. Fortunately she found the needed spice in the kitchen and very soon we were talking dirty to each other while masturbating and having the ginger burn itself into our behinds.
I had told Erica that for maximum effect she should make some cuts with a knife in the ginger root which she did. All of a sudden we were taken to a different world and although our contact was made via the keyboard it was a very near and intimate experience. Just like she had actually been close to me… I could sense her soft skin, her silky blonde hair, feel the taste of her ripe swollen lips. Yes, you can get very excited by this form of communication. It’s like listening to the radio which makes you create your own mental pictures as you go along. Photos and webcams leaves very little to the imagination and personally I feel that can be a turn-off at times.I think you had a good time, too, sweet Erica. Believe me, I came again and again and it never seemed to stop. The ginger in my anus burnt terribly and I thought I could stand it no longer while at the same time I wanted it to burn deeper… letting me be totally consumed by this wonderful cruel fire which made my orgasms so much more intense. I lost all sense of time and for a long while it was just me and Erica riding high on the waves of passionate, pure lust, with the fire caused by the ginger root inside our secret passages becoming stronger all the time

Believe me, this was a very special experience together with a very special girl. If you do masturbation sessions through web chats, try ginger root sometimes. You won’t regret it :-) Oh, by the way I promised to write a fantasy story for Erica and publish it in my blog. This will be my next posting and it will be up soon. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for everything… deep French kisses from a sultry and sinful tina, longing for the next time…

Update: My Facebook account was just deleted! I have created a new one under the name of Tina Larsson, previously Tinaslut Sweden. I realize it will take some time to rebuild my network of friends which was close to 900 names when the account was deleted. I suspect this was because I have published some exciting pics on my Facebook page. Anyway, I will be glad to add you as my friend but in the future I will not publish any pics on FB which will give these hypocrites any reason to delete my account (if they do need a reason at all). I see no point in working on a page which is so easily deleted at the whims of the operators and therefore I shall concentrate on my blog instead. Here there are no restrictions. If Blogger should ever start behaving like FB I have my own domain already registred so believe me, I’m here to stay!

Back and proud and with fresh whipmarks on my bottom... mmmmmm

Hello my wonderful friends and my apologies for neglecting this blog for so long :-) Seems like you need to make blogging into a daily routine if it is to be done at all. But now I'm back and I'm proud. I' m hot and I feel sinful like never before ;-) I have realized that Second Life perhaps isn't my cup of tea after all. Sure it is exciting but I have realized how time consuming it really is, especially if you don't have a very fast computer. Besides, there's nothing wrong with the First Life, better known as IRL..

The other day when I went out to lunch I suddenly got the immediate urge for pain! You know, like when you're desperate for a cigarette or some sweets and must have it right away. So instead of having a meal I jumped into my car and drove as fast as I could out of town and before I knew it I was walking on a path into the woods. I knew I had to be back at work in around 45 minutes and I also knew I had to experience pain before I did. So I cut myself a bunch of whippy long switches and went deeper into the woods where I hid behind a big rock. The risk that somebody would see me was minimal but anyway I don't think I would have cared. I took of my jeans and panties and bent forward, sticking my bottom out and started whipping myself with the switches as hard a I could. Oh, what a glorious feeling! I lashed away like obsessed, striking with three switches at the same time. In my minds eye I could see the switches biting through my skin, deep into my quivering buttocks. After arount twenty lashes I realized it would be more effective using just one of the switches and I started whipping myself savagely with the longest one, striking as hard as I could and the strokes fell faster and faster while I stuck my bottom out to meet each stinging lash. Tears were flowing down my face and I was catapulted into subslut heaven.

I reached my goal of a hundred lashes on my bare bottom and when I caressed my sore welted buttocks I could see blood on my fingers. I simply could not wait to get in front of a mirror to see what I had accompished. And, naturally, sitting down was out of the question for the rest of the day. It really was an ordeal to drive my car back to work and I put some paper tissues in my panties to absorb the red driplets. God was this wonderful!

Back at work a colleague asked me where I had been as she didn't see me at lunch. 'No, I just took a walk in the woods instead' I answered with a smile.

Take care and have a great weekend whatever you do. love and kisses from tina.

My Second Life

Yes I know, I have been away for too long. But now I'm back! I should have continued the Saudi story but for some reason my inspiration has failed. Until the other day when I discovered something which had been totally unknown to me. The virtual world of Second Life. This is very exciting and a good start for being lent out IRL. Somehow I feel that your personality shines through very much in the way your virtual ego acts. This is a very exciting world and I regret that I have so many practical things to learn. Is there any experienced SL player out there who could guide me further? For instance, how do you find or make specific applications? Would it be possible to create a scene where the story of my punishment in Saudi Arabia could be displayed in virtual reality? This would surely be one step further and, I am sure, very arousing both for myself and those using me.

I am desperately longing to be used! Please come and rape me, whip me, torture me, humiliate me in Second Life! I am available if you want me and I want to learn more about this world. Yes, one day I will also be available IRL and this is a good start.

Deep and passionate kisses to you my dear friends...
tina

I'm now also on Facebook using the name Tinaslut Sweden if you would like to add me as your friend.

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.

Tina in Saudi Arabia, part 3

I was about to receive my first fifty lashes in two weeks. Naturally I was very frightened about this but still I felt a strange kind of anticipation. When my tormentor was whipping me with his heavy belt I was climaxing continuously and yearning for more although I realized I had had far too much already…. but being whipped with a sharp bamboo cane, until hanging bloody and limb in my shackles in front of thousands of spectators…. that was something else. At the same time, however, I could see what happened to my body as I was beaten. I experienced a frenzy and an ecstasy which was beyond comprehension. The more the belt cracked against my bare flesh, the more lust I felt. I was obsessed by the stinging leather. My entire body was boiling from endorphins and I was horny beyond description… I felt like I could do anything and just wanted to be brutally ravaged and whipped even harder. Would I experience the same ecstasy when I was flogged in public… and if I did, would it show how excited I really was? I was looking forward to what was to come with a mixture of horror and anticipation.

A fantasy which has been within my mind for as long as I can remember is that of a cruel, brutal caveman knocking me senseless with his heavy club and dragging me by the hair to his cave. I might have seen it in some comics magazine. Wasn’t that exactly was had happened to me in reality? Even if the man did not drag me by the hair after knocking me out, he had in effect clubbed me – and so hard that I had been out for more than twelve hours. Every time the man who had swung his club came into my cell to use me, I was staring like bewitched on the long shiny wooden blackjack (or the club) that was hanging from his belt. He always put the blackjack aside on my bunk before he started working me over. To start with I had been feeling scared but I was now longing for him to visit me in my cell and naturally, he could not help but noticing the way I reacted. We could not talk to one another verbally but the way my body reacted told me everything he needed to know. Now and then he let other men come into my cell to use me, quite often, really. I could not help but thinking how it had all started… in effect, I was doing the same thing now as when I was whoring around Riyadh, the main difference being that I was being paid very well at the time and now I was locked up in a cell and being ravaged in the most brutal ways imagineable. However, my lust and excitement was as big as ever and the pain…. oh, the lovely pain… to be raped, whipped and beaten turned me on more than I could ever have imagined. To me, this was a prison of lust and I spent most of my time masturbating when I was not being raped… frigging myself into countless orgasms… my moanings, screams and cries of lust was heard from my cell all days long and I am sure that many men around could just not resist the temptation to go in and work me over because of the lustful sounds coming from my cell all the time. Obviously I was being used by wardens and convicts alike.

On the night before my first public whipping I was blindfolded and chained, then taken out to a waiting car. I was naked apart from my chains and cuffs. After a trip of around half an hour I was led into a house and I could feel the cold stone of marble floor and stairs under my bare feet. The blindfold was on all the time and I could see nothing but I could understand from the sounds echoing through the walls that I was in a very big room, probably a palace or something similar. Strong hands gripped me and forced me over a padded bench and I felt cool leather against my bare skin. My wrists and ankles were chained to the bench and another heavy iron cuff was fastened around my neck.. I have no idea of how many men were around me but all of a sudden they were all over me… hard pricks penetrating all my orifices and I felt totally filled up, being brutally ravaged from all directions… the men were taking turns in pinching and biting my flesh and fucking me…. as soon as one man had come in me, there was immediately another hard erect pole there to take his place… I was losing all awareness of time and room… all I was aware of was the hard dicks pumping in and out of me… filling me with warm wonderful semen… I swallowed all I could but still a lot of come was flowing down my face… I was licking, sucking, slurping and really feasting on all this lovely warm, salt come….. I couldn’t get enough…. strong fingers were pinching my flesh, my nipples, my clit and my pubic lips… I felt teeth and nails penetrating my skin, lips sucking in my flesh until it hurt… in my lust-crazed mind I thought that my body would be full of sucking marks tomorrow as I would be flogged in public…. there on my body for everybody to see… I felt ashamed… teeth biting so hard into my nipples and breasts that I felt tears flowing down my face…. I could not scream out loud as my mouth was filled by an enormous swelling cock and I was longing for itto explode, spurting its costly load down my throat…

I was raped for hours and then taken back to the prison. Well back in my cell, I immediately fell asleep, totally exhausted and with come dripping out of all my orifices.

In a matter of hours I would be taken out to the city square for being publically flogged.