Chapter 7

I lay on the bed beside Judy, casually stroking her firm and still warm bottom as she sighed in contentment. Thirty minutes earlier she had been tied along the length of the padded horse, her ankles spread to the two legs at one end and her wrists to the two at the other. Nipple clamps dangled from each breast and she ground her pussy hard against the smooth padding of the horse with each stroke of the cat I delivered. I whipped her until her entire ass was red and hot to the touch and she was squirming back and forth, desperately trying to get herself off. I finally stopped and moved behind her and pressed my lubricated cock against her tight and puckered rear opening.

Judy had already come once from the whipping itself and started to again almost immediately as I entered her tight rear passage. I reached forward and tugged slightly on the nipple clamps as I drove myself, slowly at first, and then faster, in and out of the warm, dark tunnel, my thrusts stopping only when my thighs pressed tightly against her burning cheeks. It wasn't long, despite the number of times I had already come, before I came again, spurting several times deeply into her bowels.

Now we lay resting and I realized that we had never made love as many times in so short a period or as intensely as we had that weekend. I let my hand slowly caress her warm rear and on down her smooth thighs. "You really seem to be hot this weekend, don't you?" I asked.

Judy twisted her head around to look at me. "I don't see you complaining. And for that matter, you seem pretty excited yourself."

I smiled down at her. "I guess I am. Honestly, Judy, I've never had this kind of sex with any woman before. You are fantastic!"

She moved her hand up and let it gently touch my face. "Neither have I, Paul."

I knew what she meant, but I started to make some crack about her having sex with a woman and then I realized she was serious. I took her hand in mine and slowly raised it to my lips, kissing it lightly, all the time looking deeply into her eyes. I was beginning to think that Judy might be the only woman I'd ever be interested in again.

She pulled my hand back and kissed my fingers in return and then said, "You do excite me, Paul." Then she broke the mood before we got too serious and added, "Of course, spending several days naked might have a little to do with it also."

I grinned back at her. "Like that, do you?"

A slightly surprised look came over her face. "Yes, actually I do. I wouldn't have guessed it would be quite this hot, but I find I do really like it. And do you know what? I think sometime I'd like to find somewhere where we could go nude outside as well." She looked over towards the window for a second. "But somewhere a little warmer." Then she closed her eyes for a second and I could see the expression on her face go through several changes as she visualized something. "Like maybe your uncle's plantation. Paul, that journal has really been turning me on, too."

"It was a total surprise to me when I found it," I answered. "But, yes, it is really very hot. When I first started reading through it, I think I was hard the whole time. Reading it to you is even hotter."

"Em, yes. We still have one more day, Paul. Can you read me the rest of it tomorrow?"

"Certainly. We've been through most of it already, but there are still some good parts left. I've looked for more volumes, but so far I haven't found any. It might just be this is the only one he was able to get out when the Japanese came. But there might be more. There's a lot of stuff still up there in the attic."

"I hope there are more. Anyway, I want to hear the rest of this one tomorrow." Suddenly Judy yawned deeply.

The yawn was catching and one of my own overcame me. "I guess we're both pretty tired."

"I wonder why," Judy said sarcastically. Then she yawned again. "I still want to spend a few hours making love, but if I fall asleep while we're doing it, I bet you'd be ticked off at me, wouldn't you?"

"If I didn't fall asleep first. Let's sleep a few hours, Lover, and then maybe we can manage. If you're keeping score I'm sure this will still be a record weekend even if we sleep first." Judy stuck her tongue out at me, but ruined the effect by yawning once again. I kissed her, pulled a sheet over us, and held her close against me.

We did wake up a few hours later and sometime between midnight and dawn we did spend another hour or two making slow, easy love.

Monday morning was overcast, but there was no snow or wind to speak of. Judy and I showered together and then found some breakfast. After we ate, I looked out and could see traffic on the major roads in the distance, but we had another day of the holiday weekend. As I was looking out, Judy came up behind me. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled herself close. I could feel her bare pubes against my buttocks and even before she reached around to grasp me, I could feel myself begin to grow hard. She kissed my back and said, "Come on, Lover. I want to hear more about your uncle."

I turned and pulled her into a long, hard kiss. When we broke apart, she gave my cock a quick squeeze and them took my hand to lead me over to the lounge again. Soon I had the fire stoked and Judy bound to the leather furniture. I teased her for a couple of minutes and then, pinching her nipples lightly, picked up the journal and began to read.

March 12 (Ten Day)

By today I no longer had any marks showing from my ordeal. In fact, my skin no longer even felt tender. Susan explained that once one learned how to use the various whips, it was possible to deliver a variety of pains - thudding, stinging, lingering - without doing any real or lasting damage. Of course, as I already knew, it was also possible to do severe damage with the instruments, but Susan assured me that such was never the case here.

We spent most of the day swimming or just lying around. We were down at the swimming cove after lunch when Nate and Joan came by and joined us. He asked me if I now understood our games a little better and I told him I was certainly starting to comprehend.

"Well, now that you have been 'initiated', Alex, I see no reason why you can't help with the punishments next Seven Day," Nate threw out almost casually.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that, Nate," I replied. "I've never swung a whip in my life and I'd be afraid I might do some real damage."

"Oh, you'll have to practice," he said. "Definitely have to practice. But, after all, it is part of the General Manager's duties." Then he smiled directly at me. "A most pleasant part," he added.

Susan put her hand on my arm. "Don't worry about it, Alex. We can go over to the hut after supper sometimes and I'll help you. It's really not that hard. Just takes a little practice."

I smiled back at her and patted her hand on my arm. Then the subject changed and everyone seemed to forget about it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon just swimming or lying in the sun and dozing. Of course all of us had shed our sarongs and were completely nude. But one of the surprising things I've discovered is that once the novelty of being naked in mixed company has worn off, the driving sexual urge first associated with it also seems to diminish. That is not to say that there is any less desire or interest in carnal activities. It was not at all unusual for one of our "swimming" parties to turn into a wild sex session. Not a planned orgy as such, but erotic couplings could start at any time with no particular trigger. However, it was also not unusual for us to just swim or lie around talking. I guess that once the mind is convinced that there is no rush - that is, that the interest and availability aren't going to disappear - the urgency to take advantage of the free attitude is reduced. A man traveling across the sands of a desert will immediately drink his fill and often then some when he comes upon an oasis, but the same man traveling along side a river will only drink when he is actually thirsty. Perhaps that's not the best comparison, but it is something similar.

We eventually went back for supper and afterwards spent a half hour in relaxed conversation. Suddenly Nate stood and said, "I think I should take Alex over to the hut and give him the basics of handling a whip. You girls want to come along?"

Both Susan and Joan immediately agreed and soon the four of us were entering the punishment hut. Nate lit some gas lamps while I looked at the collection of whips and the various devices to which the victim could be bound.

When the room was sufficiently lighted, Nate went to the wall and removed a cat of nine tails whip. This particular model had an eighteen inch polished wood handle and nine tails, each about two and a half feet long. He showed me the individual strands of the tails. "Notice, Alex, that the leather is not only oiled and soft, but the edges of the strands are rounded so as not to cut the victim's skin."

I took the strand between my fingers and at once saw that Nate was correct. The cat I had seen used in the army had tails of heavy, thick leather, each tapering to a narrow point at the far end. Each had been cut from the leather sheet with a single pass of the knife, leaving a sharp, ninety degree corner on each side of the strands. And while still flexible, the strands were fairly stiff. That whip could cut a man's back to ribbons. However, this whip was entirely different. Each strand was of medium thick leather, tapering from about a half inch wide at the handle end to only slightly less at the other. Instead of just being square cut, each strand had the edges rounded and smoothed. The leather had been kept soft with oil and I could see that even if the whip was swung with considerable force, there would probably be no real damage done to the skin. This whip had an entirely different purpose from the army model.

Nate took the cat back. He moved over to where a leather covered bench stood by itself. This was obviously a whipping bench. It consisted of a four foot long rail and a cylinder of leather covered padding, about ten inches across. The rail was supported by A frame legs at either end, and the outsides of the legs were connected with a solid panel of wood. Thus it resembled a wedge, three feet high, four feet wide, with the rounded leather replacing what would have been the narrow edge. On each of the two wood side panels were two small shelves, each about six inches wide and a foot and a half long. These were also padded and equipped with straps which could obviously be used to bind the victim's forearms and legs.

Nate pointed to the bench. "These are good whipping benches for the beginner to use," he said. "Joan, want to show Alex how they work?" Joan moved over beside us, dropping her sarong along the way. She mounted the bench, kneeling on one set of the side shelves and then lay forward along the length of the rail to rest her forearms on the other set. This left her bottom raised and opened. Her magnificent upper works hung down on either side of the padded leather rail and both of her private openings were clearly exposed. Nate moved over beside her and showed me how the straps could anchor her tightly to the device. "In this position the victim can't suddenly jerk and make the whip strike a more dangerous area. Her bottom, back, and legs are easily available, as well as her sides and the sides of her breasts. Not to mention it feels awfully sexy to be tied in that position. Thanks, Joan."

Joan climbed back off the device and Nate moved over near it and ran his hand along the padded leather cylinder. "It is also useful for practice. After all, leather is skin. You can tell a lot about how effective a stroke is by examining how it strikes leather." He raised the cat and suddenly brought it down in a fast arc, the tails striking the smooth leather. The sound of the strike sounded almost exactly like the whips hitting the victims at the last punishment session. In fact I could feel my buttocks clamp down involuntarily in response. Nate went on. "Now any idiot can beat someone with a cat, but that's not what we're trying to do. We want to inflict pain, but not so great that the pain dominates all else. A cat can produce two kinds of pain: a slap and a sting. The surface area of the set of tails striking together is a lot like a paddle and can produce a flat slap against the skin. But the individual ends of the strands produce a sharp sting as they land. The secret is to flick the wrist at just the right time. Then you can produce both sensations with the same stroke."

Nate demonstrated several times and then he handed me the cat. "Now you try it, Alex." I was unprepared for the effect holding the whip had on me. There was a sense of power which completely surprised me. The idea that I would determine what some other person felt and that he - or she! - had no say in the matter at all, was exhilarating. This might have been expected, at least intellectually, if I had stopped to think about it. However, the feeling which really astounded me was the sudden and nearly overwhelming feeling of sexual arousal which accompanied raising my hand holding the whip. I felt my member suddenly harden and I sharply drew in my breath.

It was sudden and unexpected, but it only took me a couple of seconds to regain control. I looked over at Nate and he nodded. I turned back to the bench. For two or three seconds I stared at the leather cylinder, my mind trying to picture a nude man strapped there, exposed and waiting. It didn't feel quite right and I quickly changed my mental image to a nude woman. Again the sudden urge of arousal struck me. I raised my arm with the cat and brought it down in a quick arc. The leather tails slapped the bench, but the sound was not quite what it had been when Nate had demonstrated. "Don't be afraid to strike harder, Alex. The victim would hardly have noticed that one. Remember, with these whips it's almost impossible to do any real damage when you strike someone on the arse. Try again."

I straightened my back and brought my arm up once more. This time I let my arm feel like a cocked spring and when I released it, the leather whistled slightly in the air and the sound it made as the tails struck the padded leather sounded much more like Nate's demonstration. "That's better," Nate enthused. "Did you hear both the slap and sting sounds?"

"I think so," I replied.

"Try some more," Nate encouraged.

I delivered another dozen strokes, each time gaining a little more confidence. By the end Nate was complimenting me and saying that I was beginning to get the idea.

Then Nate called a halt. "The cat is pretty easy to learn to use adequately. However, a real, single tailed whip is a lot harder." He returned the cat to the wall and picked up a whip with a single five foot strand atop a two foot wood handle. He handed it to me to examine. "Notice that the tail begins as three strands of leather braided together and tapers until at the very end there is a single four inch piece, about a quarter inch wide. The braided strands lend enough weight to make the tail really move and the single, small tail can deliver an exquisite sting. However, it is a lot harder to control and, if misused, can and will do a lot or real damage. To use it correctly you must not only learn to give it the correct flick of the wrist, but you must also learn to guide it without error to its intended target.

Nate moved over to a cabinet and returned with a stack of small paper cones. These were just rolled paper, glued into a cone shape, about three inches high and an inch across at the large end. He placed a row of six of them, large end down, along the top of the padded leather of the bench. Each cone was spaced about two inches from its neighbor.

Then Nate moved back so he was facing the side of the bench and standing about eight or nine feet away. Suddenly, his arm snapped forward and the single leather tail snaked out towards the bench. There was a sharp crack and the paper cone at the left end of the row seemed to jump into the air as the sharp report of the whip crack sounded. My eyes followed the cone as it fluttered to the floor and I saw that the small end of the whip tail had cut a sharp gash in the side, nearly separating the paper into two parts.

"Did you notice that you did not hear the tail touch the bench? With practice you can learn to place the end exactly where you want it. The process becomes part of you and you don't have to think about it at all. But you must learn to control it well enough that you strike exactly where you aim EVERY SINGLE TIME."

"Can you ever really be that sure?" I asked. "I mean, it seems like no matter how much you practice that there are too many variables to be completely sure."

"Oh, it's a confidence you can gain. It just takes practice. Let me show you." Nate went over to where Joan and Susan had been standing and watching the demonstration. He said something to Joan, but it was too quiet for me to hear. I did hear the words "gum arabic," however.

However, Susan must have heard it because I heard her say, "Me, too, Nate. If you think you can get four in a row."

Nate smiled an OK and the girls moved over to another cabinet. They retrieved something I couldn't see and began to do something with it. They had their backs to us, so I couldn't get any idea of what was going on at all. Then they walked over to the bench and turned around to face us, leaning back against the padded leather and arching their backs to throw their chests out.

I stared at the sight which they presented. Both were, of course, bare from the waist up and now each had a small, two inch candle rising from the top or each breast, just behind the nipple. Evidently the gum arabic had been used to hold the tapers in place. Nate handed me a match and said, "If you would be so kind as to light them, Alex."

Almost in a trance I moved over to the two women as they steadied themselves against the bench. I struck the match and quickly lit each of the four candles and moved back out of the way. I could see an occasional grimace as a drop of hot wax flowed down a candle and onto the sensitive surface of their smooth skin, but neither woman moved in the least, so the candles stayed steady and vertical. Then Nate raised his arm, trailing the long leather tail of the whip behind. In my mind's eye I saw the lash suddenly snake forward with terrifying speed, the end strike the unblemished skin of a lovely breast, leaving a cut and bleeding line where it landed. Then I blinked and saw that Nate had not yet moved his arm.

Suddenly the arm snapped down and the lash jerked out with eye blurring speed. But instead of the damage I had feared, the sudden loud crack of the leather tail only left the candle on Joan's left breast extinguished. The candle itself remained upright and her lovely globe remained as unblemished as before. I stared in amazement as five seconds later a second crack snubbed the flame of the candle attached to Susan's left breast. Another five seconds and the other candle flame disappeared from Susan's chest. A final crack left only two smiling women and four candles, still attached firmly in place, but now only trailing small traces of smoke.

I was speechless! Then Susan called out, "Want to go for four more, Nate?"

He grinned back at them and produced another match which he handed to me. Still in a slight state of shock I relit the four cylinders, now somewhat diminished in height and watched as four more slashing strokes of the whip again reduced them to short, smoking columns. "Now clean it up, Nate," Joan called. Nate acknowledged with a nod and four more quick slashes of the leather tail pulled each candle free and sent it flying across the room, but left not a trace of a mark on their skin.

I looked from the two women to Nate. "I guess I believe you know how to use that," I said, "but it must take a lot of practice. I don't know if I'd ever be that sure of my aim."

"Well, you certainly wouldn't want to try that right away," Nate agreed. "However, you can learn it faster than you think. You should first concentrate on placing the lash exactly where you want it and later worry about learning to control the sting. A good way is to use the paper cones. Dust the bench with talcum and then set the cones on it. You should learn to take them off without smearing the powder."

Susan moved over beside me and looped her arm through mine. "I'll work with him, Nate. I'm willing to bet that by next Seven Day he'll be ready to warm a couple of backsides."

"OK, I'm sure he will. But, Alex, if you don't feel completely ready, you can just help by using the cat. You can learn to handle that quickly enough and Susan will make sure you know how hard to use it. I think you can get a feel for the single tail by then as well. Trust Susan. She'll make sure you're ready."

Joan came over and whispered in Nate's ear. A smile spread across his face and he turned back to Susan and me and said, "If you can handle it, Susan, Joan has something else she wants to do."

Susan said, "I'll take it from here, Nate," as a wide grin spread across her face.

Nate and Joan quickly said good-night and left the shed.

"I wonder what they suddenly had to do," I questioned.

Susan laughed. "You can't guess?" I shook my head. "They had a sudden need to go to bed," she laughed. "That business with the candles and whip had Joan dripping. Believe me, I fully understand."

My look of surprise must had been easy to read, because she added, "It's really not surprising, Alex. We both know that Nate is good enough that there was almost no chance he would touch us with the whip. Still, even the slightest possibility lends a real edge to the excitement. Risk often acts as a really strong sexual stimulant."

I looked closely at Susan and now I saw the slight flush to her skin and saw her breathing was still slightly fast. "Do you feel a sudden need, too?" I asked.

Susan laughed. "Actually, I do, but let's put it aside for a while. If you're really going to learn to handle these things in the next seven days, we're going to need to practice some each night." She picked up the cat. "Let's work on this a little first."

We spent the next two hours working with the cat. First, Susan had me practice swinging it through the air without striking anything at all. Then I moved on to deliver blows to the padded leather surface of the bench. I would swing a couple of times and Susan would evaluate my work. "That was more of a flat blow, Alex. No sting. Try snapping your wrist just before the tails strike."

I corrected and Susan encouraged me. Then she would fine tune it. "Listen to the sound of the tails striking the leather. Here, let me show you." Susan took the cat and landed a couple of strokes. "That's the way it should sound. Now listen to this." Another blow. "Hear how flat that sounded? A blow like that might hurt some, even bruise, but there would be no real sting. Listen to this one." She struck again. "Now that one would really sting. In fact, there would probably be no slap or thud at all, but the ends would have the victim screaming at the top of his lungs. That's a little harder than we would ever want here."

She demonstrated several times until I thought I could tell the difference between the sounds. Then she gave me back the whip and I began to strike, giving her my evaluation with each stroke. She would either confirm or correct my estimate of the effectiveness of the blow.

After a while Susan stopped me for a short rest. "What we try to do with the cat, Alex, is to strike so that the victim feels a slap as well as a sting sharp enough to hurt but not enough to overwhelm him." She stopped and thought a second. "I think I should give you an idea of how it will go. Why don't you get on the bench so you can get to feel what the victim experiences. We'll use these benches next Seven Day so everything will seem familiar to you."

I moved over to the bench and climbed up to kneel on the rearward set of ledges. I bent forward and rested my forearms on the forward set. This position immediately induced a feeling of helplessness, making me truly feel like a victim with no control over what was going to happen. My rear end was high up and spread open and I felt totally defenseless. Susan came around and started to strap my forearms to the padded ledges. When I started to protest, she said, "Come on, Alex. I want you to really get a feel for what it's like." I relaxed and let her bind my arms and also my lower legs to the padded leather.

I was then lying along the length of the padded rail, my sarong covered rear sticking up and my chest pressing against the rapidly warming leather. Susan moved alongside me and began to slowly drag the soft leather tails of the cat across my bare back. Then she reached towards my waist and unfastened the sarong, pulling it from my body. Now I was completely naked as well as bound in an open and helpless position. I could feel my arse tighten, but I could also feel my member begin to swell with unexpected excitement. The tails trailed on down across my bare buttocks and thighs and I sharply sucked in my breath.

"Now do you see why the men want to get punished?" Susan asked. "I mean, besides just to impress the ladies." I didn't have to answer because she went on. "I think, before I let you loose, I'm going to show you the difference between the different kinds of strokes. First some that are all slap." Susan swung the cat against my exposed rear. It landed with a flat "splat" sound and I felt as though I had been struck by one wide object, such as a paddle. It hurt a little, but not badly, and certainly not with any kind of sting. Susan delivered another dozen of these, varying the strength from a light swat to one which felt like I had been hit with a wide board. It knocked me hard against the padded leather. I could feel my skin beginning to warm but, in all honesty, it did nothing for me sexually.

Then she switched to stinging lashes. These had none of the slap of the first blows, but each left nine separate stinging hurts on my skin. The sting rapidly dissipated, but left a warm afterglow. I could feel my rod begin to stir in response. Then came a short series in which the sting no longer stimulated, but only hurt. Each wrung a cry from me and I attempted to break free, but to no avail.

"Now, Alex," Susan finally said, "this is what they should feel like." The next dozen strokes had elements of both the slap and sting. The broad slaps of the group of tails striking my flesh were not hard enough to bruise or drive me into the bench, but they left a wide, warm area in their wake. But each stroke was also accompanied by a set of sharp stings as the ends of the tails struck. Susan moved these lashes around so that different areas of skin were struck and no one spot became overly damaged. While some of these blows again caused me to cry out, I found that the overall effect was one of intense sexual stimulation. My rod was by then straining against the padded leather in an attempt to stand upright. If I could have raised myself high enough for it to fit between my stomach and the bench, I am sure I would have climaxed all over the smooth leather.

Suddenly Susan stopped and I groaned in frustration. "Before we finish, Alex, I think I should let you feel a couple that are beyond what we want. These will hurt " - did that mean she thought the others hadn't hurt!?! - "but I think it's important for you to know what the result of an error in judgment on your part would be like for the victim. Just three strokes."

I tried to brace myself for what was to come, but when the first blow struck, I was nowhere near prepared. The slap was hard enough to drive me forward onto the bench, but the real pain was from the nine stings. Sting is too mild a word. The nine individual pains were like nine sharp nails being quickly dragged along my skin. I screamed in response and strained against the straps holding my arms and legs. Susan didn't give me time to beg her to stop or otherwise I'm sure I would have. Instead she delivered two more strokes which seemed to slice me in strips as they landed. With the last of these, the ends of the tails curved around the rounded shape of my buttock and disappeared into my crack where they seemed to set fire to the most sensitive skin on my body. Then she stopped and as my cries diminished and I began to breathe a little more easily once again, her smooth hand began to stroke the abused area. "I didn't do that just to hurt you, Alex. It really is important that you know what a mistake on your part will do. Forgive me?"

I was still breathing hard and trying to regain control, but I managed to answer, "Of course, Susan. I understand why you did it, but it still hurt like hell."

"Poor Alex," Susan murmured. "I'll try to find some way to make it up to you." Then I felt her tongue begin to lath my abused bottom. Susan's firm tongue swept over the damaged area and her small hand worked itself around my balls, giving them small squeezes. For several minutes she continued her oral and manual attentions and I began to forget the earlier ordeal, my mind filling with the immense pleasure of the current happenings. Her hand left my testicles and made its way up and around my now totally stiff member, her fingers beginning to lightly stroke around the sensitive underside below the head. Just as I felt myself about to loose control completely, Susan's tongue pushed hard against my anus and I felt myself began to flood her hand with spurt after spurt of warm fluid.