Angela Pearson - There_s a whip in my valise

He strained his shoulders back and stretched the muscles of his chest as the sweet sensation ran electrically through his loins. But he did not stop laying the whipping instruments on the divan.

She let go of his penis and stood to one side, looking down at the divan. "Yes, it has become quite a nice collection, hasn't it? Now which shall I begin with this evening?" She reached for one of the whips and drew its lash through her fingers. It was a black whip, a metre long, made of rhinoceros hide. "I think this," she said, and swung it experimentally down on the seat of a chair. It hissed as it fell; it struck the damask cover of the chair with a loud crack.

He jumped involuntarily at the two sounds, and felt his bones turn to water. He laid the last birch on the divan and stood erect. He turned to her slowly.

"It's no use begging you, Fraulein Dir-"

"None whatsoever," she said shortly. "Go and get my boots and black cape."

As he left the room she began to take off her own clothes. He went into her bedroom and opened her wardrobe. He took out a pair of high black leather boots and a floor-length black rubber cape. He ran his hand over the smooth, cool material, remembering the shock he had had when, during his first whipping, he had asked her why she wore them. "I wear the boots," she had replied, looking him in the eyes with cruelty in her own, "because they look brutal-and when I feel brutal they match my mood. As for the cape, I prefer to be naked when I whip someone, but I don't like his blood spattering all over my body. And I shall give you an extra twenty lashes for asking personal questions."

He went back to the living room now with the boots in one hand and the cape in the other, its cool rubber folds touching his naked body pleasantly as he walked. She was standing where he had left her, but now she was quite naked. Again he caught his breath. She had her lovely head tilted slightly to one side and her ash-blond hair caught and played with the light from the table-lamp beside her. She wa s of medium height, with large firm breasts on her well-shaped torso. She had a very small waist, which was the envy of her friends and of all the women who worked for her in the Munich publishing house which she had inherited the previous year from her father; she had slender hips, and legs of such shapeliness that her friends and employees felt something akin to despair when they allowed themselves to look at them. Men called her Munich's most beautiful woman, and fell over themselves to win her favour.

She sat down now, as he approached her, and lifted one of her legs. He put the cape over the back of a chair and knelt at her feet. He slid a boot on to the leg she had lifted. She put it to the floor and stamped lightly until her foot was comfortably home. Then she lifted her other leg. When he had shod her she stood up. She reached for the black whip. He remained in his kneeling position.

"All right," she said. "Kiss them."

He put his lips to the toes of her boots and kissed them. She lifted her whip and lashed it across his bent bottom. The tip of the whip curled round him and bit into a testicle. He gave a sharp cry.

"This is too long," she said. "Get me a shorter one."

He walked on all fours to the side of the divan and took a shorter whip. She swung the one she was holding and hit him neatly across the back of his knees.

"Stay there a moment," she ordered. You're just the right distance away now." She swung the long whip again. It cut across his hack with a loud crack. He cried out with pain. She swung again and hit him across the centre of his buttocks. "Now come and kiss my hoots again," she said. He shuffled back to her, his features contorted, and held the shorter whip up to her. Then he put his lips down to her boots again. He kissed the left one, and then the right one, and then the left one again…

"My slave!" she murmured, and lashed him hard across his shoulders. He cried out, but he did not stop kissing her boots.

"My abject, helpless slave!" she said. Another lash. "My whipping-boy!" She struck him six more times and threw down the whip. Now you can put me in my cape."

Very slowly, with waves of pain coursing through his body, he stood up and reached for her cape. He slipped its long and very full folds over her naked shoulders. She gave a little shiver as the cold rubber fell around her. She turned round and faced him. She took hold of his penis, now small and soft. At her touch, it re-erected immediately.

A burning light shone in her eyes. "My whipping-boy," she repeated softly. "My helpless whipping-boy. He has to do whatever I tell him. He has to come obediently and regularly for his whippings. He has to do whatever terrible things I order him to do. And he cringes under my whips like a thrashed dog. He is absolutely under my thumb, isn't he? He daren't object, he daren't refuse me anything, and he daren't run away, dare he? He is totally in my power, isn't he?"

She frowned as he made no answer, "Isn't he?"

"Yes," he said at once. "He is."

"But this"-she gave his penis a squeeze-"this seems to like the idea of its owner being my whipping-boy. Don't you agree?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Then why does it jump whenever I touch it? Why does it become harder than a rock? I think it's because it likes you to be whipped. And so-let's get on with the whippings." She gave the penis a tug. "Come on. I'm going to tie you up to the bathroom door."

"Oh God," he murmured. "Please not that again."

"Oh yes," she said, crisply. "That again. Come on." Pulling him by his penis, she led the way to her bedroom. She stopped at a chest of drawers and opened a drawer with her free hand. She took out a length of twine, thin but very strong. She let go of his penis. "Your thumbs, please," she said.

He put his thumbs together and held them out to her. She wound the twine tightly round them several times and made a firm knot.

"I've forgotten the whip," she said. "Go and get it-the long black one."

He went back into the living-room and fetched the whip. When he returned to her, she was standing beside the door that led to her bathroom. She held three very thick books in her hands. She took the whip from him and gave him the books. "Put them down in their position."

He knelt and placed the books, one on top of the other, on the floor in front of the door. Because his thumbs were tied, he was slow and clumsy.

"Good," she said. "We're nearly ready. Now kiss me a little."

He raised his hands and opened the front of her cape. He cupped his hands round her left breast. He bent his head and put his lips to the nipple. He sucked, and played with his tongue, for a few moments. Then he transferred his attentions to her right breast.

She let her head fall hack. She closed her eyes. "Oh, I'm going to flog you so much tonight," she said dreamily. "I hope I don't kill you. I may, one day."

He dropped on to one knee and put his lips to her ash- blond mound. She opened her legs a little. She had begun to breathe very rapidly. He ran his tongue lightly round the edge of her mound and then licked quickly at the lips of her vagina. She gave a flinch of pleasure. He licked lightly round her mound again, and once more flicked his tongue at her vagina lips. She gave a gasp and seized his hair. She pressed his face tightly against her organs. He put his tongue slowly into her passage, withdrew it, and put it again. She began to moan softly. Her legs began to quiver.

Suddenly she pushed him away. "Enough!" she said sharply. "Get up. Go and stand on those books."

With a sigh he straightened up and moved to the bathroom door. He stepped up on the books which he had placed on the floor.

She pulled a chair up beside him and stood up on it with a swooshing rustle of her long cape. "Your hands above your head," she ordered. "High up."