Master wanted some fun yesterday, for the first time I never mentioned the toys he chose. I had no say in them, I was there for Master to use, anyway he chose. Picking the awful lash and tawse/spanking hammer made me scared shitless. In position Master whipped my ass, as I cried and screamed into the pillow. Then Master did something new.
He whipped my back. I’ve never felt pain like it before, it felt like he was stripping my skin off, bit by bit. The force of each strike pushed me into the bed, as I screeched and got up, Master grabbed my neck or fisted my hair and pushed my head into the pillow again. I did not like this one bit but I refused to use the safe-word. This was Masters fun and I would not disappoint him by finishing it before he was ready. So I stayed there, screaming, begging until Master was satisfied and his fun was over.
I felt like a good slave taking this gruelling whipping, and after when Master asked if I enjoyed it, I replied, “it’s not my choice nor does it matter if I enjoyed it Master.” Master smiled, “good answer Serf.”