Sending Her To The Edge

				SENDING HER TO THE EDGE


We were doing the scene together now for about three years; we had met at a
professional medical conference, I was a physician checking out the
pharmaceutical company exhibits in between speakers, and Ilsa was at a booth
advertising a new sleep medication.  I couldn't help noticing her more than the
company's poster board exhibit, and her tall, rather statuesque physique,
unusual for a pharmaceutical representative, was blocking most of the view
anyway.  When she saw that I was concentrating more on her rather than her
presentation, she invited me to accept her invitation on behalf of the company
to get a more "intensive discussion" about the drug over dinner.  I readily
accepted. With her well-endowed physical assets, her waist long brown hair, and
her seductive demeanor, resistance was futile.

I met her at the hotel where she was staying, the night was cool, and we were
both wearing overcoats. 
"Where will we be going for dinner?" she asked.

I replied, "a really nice, quiet place where we can get to know each other.  I
would like to find out more about his new drug your company is pushing, but of
course, I don't plan on dinner being entirely business."

"You better not, I spent the whole day hawking these medications, seeing way too
many nameless physicians and pharmacists asking me too many questions, and now I
am going to make sure I spend a certain amount of my time at this conference
having fun.  So I hope tonight, we're going to keep business matters to a
minimum; frankly, I need some rest, relaxation, and adventure, and I plan to
start out in this direction tonight, with you."

I was mentally a little taken back with the aggressiveness of her initial
interactions with me, but on the other hand, drug representatives have to be in
order to get in the door of their prospective clients to detail their drugs.  I
called a cab, and in about fifteen minutes, we arrived at our destination, a
small, very quiet seafood restaurant.  We got out, and when we were inside,
curiously she did not want to check her coat, preferring instead to bring it
with her to the table.  I asked for the most isolated booth that was available,
and the waiter obliged.

Just before sitting down, she took off her coat, exposing an outfit that I knew
was going to make it difficult to digest my dinner tonight.  She was wearing a
very, very short dress, the material consisting of a transparent black lace
except for an embroidered pattern.  The dress stopped just below her groin going
down only a few inches down her thigh, the sleeves were long and flared
extending down to her wrists, and she was clearly braless, with two incredible
mounds of flesh hanging without restrictions of any kind, with her nipples just
being barely covered up by the laced design.  The only clothing she had
underneath was  brief leather shorts that appeared to be little more than the
bottom of a set of lingerie and her legs were uncovered.  Her waspish waist was
encircled by a flashy belt made up of alternate bold leather and metal links
with a trailing whip like extension that hung down the side of her left thigh. 
Black stiletto heels completed her attire. This woman was clearly an
exhibitionist, at least for me, and it was clear why she would not check her
coat at the counter, as it would have clearly made a scene.

"You are staring at me," she coyly muttered, "I hope that my outfit isn't to
provocatively aggressive, but I really thought you might like it, and besides, I
really needed to let myself go tonight."

Mentally I was thinking, "You bitch, you definitely want to really have fun
tonight, let's keep control and see just exactly what you are after."  I told
her, "Oh no, you dress the way a woman of your caliber should dress, to turn on
her date, and you are turning me on, and I like that, really like that, and just
because of it, I am not even going to go anywhere talking business."

"Good that was my intent, let us just talk about you and I tonight."

Dinner was really quiet, delicious, and stimulating.  I purposely picked on
entree high in protein, low in carbohydrates, and small in volume.  It was
difficult already concentrating on the flow of conversation because of the
intense sexual aura this woman radiated, and I did not need to become totally
non-functional because of a less than prudent diet.  We got to know each other
really well.  However, as we talked, it was clear that she knew that I could not
keep my eyes off her anatomy, and periodic positioning of her body in the
appropriate manner made sure that this would stay the case.

Suddenly, as we were about to have desert, I noticed her breathing was getting
very noticeable, with her chest having developed a definitely observable heaving
pattern to it.  Suddenly, she took her left hand, grabbed my right hand, and
placed it on her naked thigh.  Slowly she ran it up to her crotch, which because
of the leather shorts she was wearing, though brief, nevertheless, acted as an
impenetrable barrier to any further progress by my hand.

With a voice that clearly sounded stressed, she said, "I want you inside me, I
want you inside me now! Let's get out of here and get me back to my room."

I said, "right on, let's get the check, and get going."

With a piercing look of her eyes, now fully dilated, as this bitch was clearly
in a highly aroused state, she said, "One very important thing, I am a woman
with some very unusual needs, needs that some men might find to demanding for
their comfort, I hope you can do to me the things that I will need you to do to
me."

Continued to be amazed by her, I always liked challenges.  "I never turn down a
challenge by a woman, don't worry, I will make sure you get everything you want
coming to you.  But what are these special needs? "

"I will tell you when we get back to my room."

We got up from the table after paying our bill, the waiter had made a mistake
because he obviously was not concentrating on the transaction but rather on
Ilsa, who of course enjoyed the power she had over the male mind.  She did get
up and quickly put on her coat so as to not make a scene with the other
customers at adjacent tables, and we left.  In the taxi, she fixed her gaze on
me the entire way.

Upon entering her room, she took off her coat, and embraced me, and said, "My
special needs, I hope you can cater to them."

"Stop playing these games, and tell me what these needs are."

"I think by now you know that I am an aggressive female bitch who really knows
how to get what she wants.  I am driven by an intense, almost insane sexual
drive, usually too much for a man.  I learned that when I was in college, that I
could control these drives with pain.  I found that my body reacted ecstatically
to intense physical stimulation whether, whether it was from the end of a man's
penis working my insides over, or from the end of a whip that was caressing my
skin.  I found that pain and sex to me were one and the same to me, my brain
craves and seeks both at the same time."

"I have no doubt that you will sexually satisfy me, but I also want you to hurt
me, whip me, and than fuck me!  Can you do it?  Many men cannot, I hoped and
prayed tonight, that when I saw that you were able to handle my outfit during
dinner, that you could be the one.  I need to allow myself give control of my
body and mind to a man, who then could do these wonderful things to me.  Will
you do this for me?"

"Have you ever whipped a woman before?"

I replied, "Yes, I have, though only once or twice, and never had been with
anybody who was really comfortable doing this.  Also, I have no whip with me."
She said, "That will be no problem.  The whip you will use tonight on me will be
the belt that I am wearing.  Also, do not worry about me screaming, while I
really can enjoy myself best letting out a lot of noise during these encounters,
I realize I am in a hotel, and I can tolerate a high threshold of pain before I
will start to scream.  Now, do this to me now, please, and don't hold back. 
Hurt me and use me now."

I said, "Yes, I will do this to you, now.  Remove your clothes."

With that, she moved to her bedroom, and in the center of it, removed her
clothes and picked up her belt.  Smoothly, she walked over to me, planted a big,
powerful kiss on me, and rubbed my bulging crotch with her hand as she handed me
the belt.  She next proceeded to go to the bed, lied down on her back, raised
her hands over her head, and clenched tightly the bedposts.

"Now, she gasped, use the whip on the front of me in any way you want, for as
long as you want, and as hard as you want.  Use my body as your plaything, do
not hold back, the more intense the pain you deliver to me, the more receptive
and hot my body will be when you come inside me.  Do it now!"

I raised my right hand, and as hard as I could, brought her belt down across her
chest, breasts, and abdomen. What happened next for the rest of the night was an
insanity of pleasure for the two of us.

Thus began a relationship that was intense, very intense.  We had a lot more in
common other than medical matters.  She was from the start seductive,
tantalizing, and obviously intent on establishing a very different kind of
relationship with a man, a man that she would need to be periodically
subservient to his commands and desires.  She had a craving for a curious mix of
aggressive sex with a sprinkling of pain that created an intense turn on for me
whenever she turned on her outgoing, vivacious, and highly exhibitionistic
personality to satisfy one of her periodic cravings of be dominated into
submission.  She never held back when she wanted to tell me what she needed to
have done to her.  While she had limits in terms of what she would do, these
limits always seem to expand with each encounter with her.

She fit in with me like lock and key.  While I had dabbled in the dark
dominating side of me and engaged in some light BSDM over the years with various
women, until she happened by, I never really did meet any female that satisfied
my longstanding desire to take over a woman's mind and body at her request, and
participate in orgies of sexual stimulation, to produce the highest levels of
sensory satisfaction that my mind required.  Previously, all comers were too
straight and inhibited.

We were both enthusiasts of the concept that "sex without any pain or fear was
like having food without any taste".  I was the cook that baked the meal
according to her liking, and once I began serving it, she had to eat the entire
portion. Both of us constantly participated in ways to magnify our menu of new
experiences of ever increasing intensity, duration, and creativity.  Her ability
and desire to transfer over to me the control of her physical, psychological,
and emotional being to me for defined periods of time during which I was able to
use her body in any manner that I knew would please her represented a woman who
was powerful in her sense of being and who she was and what she was capable of
accomplishing. 

The process of a submissive woman, expert in the art of BDSM, of transferring
the control of herself to the hands of an experienced dominant, for those who
understand the meaning of such power exchange, represents the temporary fusion
of two powerful minds into one, and then back again.  In the enactment of such a
scene, there is an adrenaline rush in both of the participants that produces a
high that keeps them coming back and back again, each time tying tighter the
emotional and physical bond of pleasure, pain, respect, and devotion that
continues to envelope them.

Ilsa and I were both having the time of our lives since our chance encounter
satisfying the cravings for our lusts for the darkside that had plagued both of
us for so long.  But today, she had something special in mind.

It was her suggestion for us to spend today, a warm sunny Saturday afternoon,
deep in a forest refuge on a picnic outing.  As the car approached the spot to
park, I could not help but notice that her clothing was not really what one
would be expected for a picnic outing in the woods.  She had on a black peasant
blouse showing a considerable amount of her ample cleavage, a tight black
leather microskirt, and black hiking shoes.  As we got out of the car, she
planted a powerful kiss on me and placed my hand on her left breast, and said in
a slow, deliberate, and husky voice, "hurt me, hurt me now!".  I never turn down
an invitation like this, and as I slowly but severely squeezed down on her
breast with my hand, her nipple obviously quite erect with excitement from being
steadily crushed through my fingers, she breathlessly moaned, "I want you to do
things to me today that you have never done to me before, things that I think
even you would find it hard to believe I could endure.  Please, whatever you do,
be cruel to me, very cruel, and don't hold back.  I want you to do anything you
want with my body that your mind can fathom, I want you for the first time to
try to push me over beyond the edge, and I want it done in the middle of the
forest where I could scream and not be heard.  OK, you understand, please, you
understand? If you truly adore and cherish me, then you will do this for me."

I promised her so as I let go of her chest, and therefore, in addition to
getting out the food basket, which I gave to her, I took out the bag of toys
that I always travel with. My bag of implements always served me well, no matter
what fantasy or scene was to be enacted by the two of us, and it look like today
it was going to be the restraint fantasy in the woods scene that was going to
happen, something I know she has had the longing for but never requested to have
done to her.  I asked her one question, however, because when I had squeezed her
breast and her breasts were very ample, firm, and exquisitely sensitive, they
had felt differently today.

"What are you wearing under your blouse?  Your skin felt different than usual."
"A surprise for you, honey, but you're not going to find out until you start to
work me over."

We were going to go deep into the forest to be well away from any human contact,
in anticipation that the events coming up could involve a significant amount of
noisy excitement.  A person running to investigate what we were doing would put
a real damper on our outing.  It was important that we had to be isolated enough
so that only the squirrels and deer might be in a position to hear the peaceful
quiet of the forest disturbed by what was expected to be quite a commotion
resulting from what was going to be done to her by me. I took the portable GPS
with me so that when we came back from our trip beyond the reaches of known
pleasure, we would not have to be rescued by a search party.

"Don't you think you should have been dressed more differently for the
occasion?" I asked, watching good stretches of her thigh being exposed as we
hiked through the woods. "Poison Ivy and scratches on your fair skin does not
sound like an exciting possibility to me."
"First, I am not allergic to PI and second, what you should be planning to do to
me should be much worse than any scratches on my thighs."

I let the matter drop, and we continued to penetrate deeper into the woods, all
the while I was forming and reforming the plan for her requested suffering. 
After about an hour, still feeling invigorated, we came across a clearing that I
noticed had two trees about six feet apart that would be perfect for my plans
for her.

"Let's stop here," I told her, "this place is perfect for what I intend to do to
you.  Open the basket and spread the blanket, now."

She very dutifully did that, and took out the food, or so I thought she would
take out the food.  Indeed the soda came out, the cups and napkins came out, but
instead of the usual picnic meal, out came some protein high-energy bars in
various flavors.

I stared at the energy bars and in a very unpleasant manner, blurted out,  "What
the hell did you bring these for? Where is the regular food?  We can't do
anything if we are starving!"

She coyly said, "You won't starve with these things.  They will keep your energy
level high for me.  If I packed the usual, you would gorge yourself on the
chicken and potato salad, and than quickly peter out as you worked on my body."

"You bitch, you had no right to make this decision without telling me first. 
Maybe I didn't like this idea, and in fact, I don't.  I didn't come all the way
here to just eat these damn energy bars, and I am not happy about this or you,
more than not happy, really angry is a better description."
Still looking at me coyly, this time slowly massaging her bulging chest with her
hands; her breathing was obviously quickening. "You didn't come here just to eat
energy bars, you came here to eat me as an appetizer, and because torturing a
woman requires a good amount of fast energy, hence the bars."

I really couldn't argue with her, for when it came to nutrition, athletics, and
health, one look at her body and its athletic build told you she was the expert
in this case.  But now I was in an irritable mood, as she obviously was defying
my authority, knowing that she clearly should have checked with me prior to
deciding this.  I quickly gulped down two of the bars, and now I was ready for
her.

I went over to the two trees, surveyed their height, thickness, and distance. I
opened the bag of implements, and took out several items.  2 metal eyehooks were
taken out and screwed into the barks of the trees at about eye level.  2 coiled
flagpole anchors were than screwed into the ground about one foot in front of
the trees.  Out came 4 bungee cords; I much preferred those because it allowed
the restrained woman a lot of room to flail her body and limbs if the need
arose.  Next came 2 pairs of wrist and ankle restraints, a pair of blindfolds,
and of course the crowning instrument for the afternoon, the whip.  This
particular whip, knowing her addiction to high levels of pain, and her obvious
enjoyment of having her skin marked during a whipping, was designed for a high
level of distress and for the production of welts and stripes, but was not
likely to physically damage her or her skin when used correctly.

She was watching quite intently while I was making the above preparations for
her oncoming discomfort.

"Your time has come," staring at her intently.  She now had a very anxious look
about her.
"Take off your clothes.  Now.  And do it slowly, I want to contemplate how every
portion of your lovely torso is going to suffer as each and every part is
exposed."

She first slowly bent down, and untied the lace of first one shoe, and then the
other.  She removed the right shoe first, flung it away from her, and then the
left.  Then she straightened up, looked at me, smiled, stretched her hands over
her head, and than slowly came down and began unbuttoning her blouse, staring
all the while at me in a mocking, haughty manner, mentally taunting me with her
visual defiance.  With the third button undone, exposing her two mounds of
flesh, I saw why when I had squeezed her breast, it did not feel right to me. 
She was wearing a chain metal bra, with the links wide enough to show most of
her skin right through it as well as her nipples, which, as erect and large as
cigars with excitement, were protruding through the metal strands.  On the site
of this, I starting a bulge of pressure between my legs and my brain started
swimming.  However, I had learned to control my urges when faced with the
seductive power of her body, counted to ten, and bit my lip to re-establish my
concentration.

"Get rid of that blouse, but keep that bra on, it makes you look like such an
exciting tease.  I will remove it when I will want to."

She flung the blouse at my face. Next her arms moved slowly down to the buttons
fastening her short leather skirt.  As they opened, the skirt fell to the ground
and she kicked it in my face.  The other half of the chain link metal outfit was
now visible giving her a metal net bikini bottom covering her cunt. It was
getting fairly clear that each of her moves was designed to drive me wild, and
peak my aggression toward her.

"Come here."

She slowly walked toward me staring intently, with her bust heaving under the
metal links.
I placed her in front of the two trees.  I attached the handcuffs and ankle
restraints.  The bungee cords were latched onto these, and first, I stretched
her hands and arms out spreadeagled to the trees, and then attached her two legs
to the flagpole anchors in the ground.  Lastly, I blindfolded her.
When I finished, I had this magnificent submissive female, bound and helpless,
waiting for me to start torturing her into agonized, pleasurable oblivion.
Seeing her startling body bound in the chain mail lingerie made her look like a
captive, defiant maiden in one of those sword and sandal epics.  However, what
was in store for her was going to be far more graphic than any of those movies I
had seen in my recent memory.

"This will be your last chance to think over what is going to happen to you and
what you have asked me to do to you.  Once I begin, no matter what you will say,
I will persist in making you suffer especially what you did to me for lunch. 
You realize at anytime, the one option that you will have to release you from
this oncoming hell will be your safeword.  Do you understand?"

"I do, let's get on with it, and stop talking nonsense about safewords, you know
I never believed in them." nodding her head affirmatively and sighing her chest
outward.

To set the mood, I told her that I would first slowly warm her up.  I proceeded
to begin kissing Ilsa's luscious body, first her lips, then her ears, followed
by the nape of her neck.  I ran my tongue down her chest, in between her
breasts.  The chain mail bra was in the way.  It was time for it to go.  I
unsnapped it into its two pieces, and because it was obviously designed to be
removed even if the wearer was strung up in restraints, I simply let it fall to
the ground.  My tongue started its work again, only this time after making
several circular swirls on her firm abdomen, it meandered back to her left
breast, giving the latter a good message.  Meanwhile, my right hand began
occupying itself with her right breast.  She starting moaning slowly, and my
tongue went to the left nipple, and I began sucking on it, hard, very hard.  It
tasted really good as it rolled around in my mouth, eventually being bitten by
my teeth, the way she usually liked it, although this time I made sure it was
much more painful than usual.

With her left nipple now hard and protruding out like a nail, my mouth went to
her right breast, and subjected that nipple to the same torture.  Because her
breasts were as large as melons with large areolas, to get it all inside my
mouth, her nipple complex essentially filled my entire oral cavity.  Very
carefully, I bit her nipple just enough at its base to draw a little bit of
blood; she always looked so good and felt so proud when a little bit of blood
would trickle down her breast.

She of course could only feel what was going on, since being in total blindness,
she would not be able to see where I was going next.  However, she certainly
felt when my fingers slipped over her clitoris, causing her to have a sharp
quiver, taking a few massages over there before moving on to her vaginal
opening.  Her precious area was reachable through the spaces between the metal
links of her G-string. Upon entering it, I realized she was soaking wet,
shuddering and moaning with increasing violence.  The bungee cords, because they
were so elastic, allowed her torso and limbs great freedom of movement that
allowed her to express her physical distress, which at the moment was one of
pure pleasure, in the most dynamic motions of her body parts.  When the bungee
cords would stretch, the muscles of her limbs could be seen to grow taut, as
they contracted against the tension of the restraints.

I carefully sought out and worked over her G-spot, pausing quickly because it
was obvious from her breathing, shaking, and moaning that she was going to
climax.  And she climaxing was the one event that I did not want to happen for
her for a long agonizing time.  I quickly stopped her sexual stimulation, which
at that point caused her to scream out, "you bastard, make me come! You can't
stop now, oh, God, do it to me, make me come! You are suppose to hurt me and
make me experience the pain that I want, not sexually tease me and play tricks
with my mind.  Put your hand back inside me and finish what you started." She
flailed her body in frustration.

Of course, her pleading brought no sympathy from me.  I pulled away, looked at
the suffering amazon that was so completely under my control, laughed and said,
"You have had your fun now.  Now it's my turn. I am now going to start you on
the long journey into becoming a quivering mass of agonized pleasure, a
suffering that will be the start of a long and painful afternoon.  If I am
satisfied by the way you respond to me, perhaps I will reward you at the end of
our outing, if you are still in any physical shape to appreciate such rewards. 
Sometime over the next several minutes, your skin will begin to feel the bite of
the whip, where the first lash will flail you and exactly when is my great
surprise gift that I shall give you in gratitude to today's unplanned menu that
you served on me."

I stepped away from her, and the scene was deathly quiet except for the
screeching of some birds, and the drone of the crickets.

I stood there watching her for some time, quiet as a mouse, standing several
feet in front of her.  A magnificent sight, her arms were stretched out wide and
chained slightly above her head to each tree, with enough tension on them so has
to bring out the muscular features of her arms.  Her head and neck were cocked
to the side allowing her long satiny hair to flow over her shoulders covering
both the upper part of her right breast as well as falling off onto her back.
The sinewy features of her firm abdomen stood out in contrast with her heaving
chest, her protuberant globes gently rising and falling as her impending anxiety
accelerated her rate and depth of breathing.  Though each leg was shackled about
twelve inches apart to the anchors in the ground, she crossed one leg in front
of the other, pulling on the restraints probably in response to the unrelieved
pressure that was building in her groins.  She had a powerful, well-defined
musculature of her thighs that accentuated the tension on her torso.  As she
continued to breathe heavily, a little glistening of sweat began to appear on
her forehead, chest and abdomen, as her body was partially in the sun.  I could
not see her eyes as they were covered, but the rest of her face looked like she
was in ecstasy from the combination of having her body stretched in this
indecent defenseless posture, being deprived of visual stimuli to her brain, the
intense sexual torment she felt as she had been brought to the point of but not
allowed to orgasm, and finally, the fact that she could not predict when the
exact moment her planned ordeal of agony would occur. The chain mail G-string
shrouded but did little to hide her pussy. I had created the image of a
magnificent barbarian about to have her haughty defiance blasted away from her.

I quickly undressed for the occasion, but I felt that my head was starting to
swim, my concentration was going, and that my groin was soon going to lose it
all.  However, again I bit down hard on my lip bringing my faltering brain back
to a functioning reality.

"Where are you, where did you go, don't leave me like this, where are you?" she
pleaded.  It was now obvious that the fear factor was entering into play here. 
She now was scared, scared of what she got herself into, scared of what I might
to do her, scared even that she had goaded me too far to the point that what I
had in store for her might be beyond the capacity to endure, even her with all
her physical stamina to suffer physical, and mental cruelty, and capacity to
tolerate pain.


The whip lashed out and headed for my favorite spot, her breasts.  With a loud
slap, the leather thongs, five in number with small knots at the ends, landed
squarely across both globes of flesh, and tracked right on target across her
left nipple.  The effect on her was dramatic; a piercing, almost inhuman scream
lashed out across the woods for miles, and slowly faded in a decrescendo of
sound.  Accompanying this vocal outburst was a convulsive contortion of her
torso, with her limbs oscillating on the bungee cords like a spider shaking its
web.  Eventually, her cries of distress faded out to a low moan.

Now, the main attraction began, having warmed up this wonderful creature of
femaleness to the point that now the whip could now start to systematically do
its work.  Her body was accessible to the whip and exposed to me from both the
back and front, in the spreadeagled configuration.  I began on the back of her.

"I shall whip you now first on the back of your thighs, then your buttocks, and
finally your back.  Twenty-five lashes will be given to you in each place, and
you will count each lash.  If you do not count it out, that lash will not count
toward the total.  At the end of the whipping of each body part, you will say
thank you, and ask that I go on to the next area of your body.

What made this all the more terrifying for her was that she was totally blind
and could not tell what I was doing.  The whipping started on the back of her
thighs, and she counted them dutifully, not really making much noise.  She then
as instructed asked that I continue on her buttocks, and again she complied. 
She really did not scream much at this point, and in fact was quite quiet.

When I moved to her back, things began to change.  After moving her long auburn
hair away from her back swinging it over her chest, we took up the task again.
She occasionally missed a count, which unfortunately increased her total lashes
she had to take.  The whip left its welts and pink marks on the skin of her
back, crisscrossing it in a pattern of discomfort that was taking its toll. 
However, the whip functioned well, causing her much discomfort, but no serious
injury to the skin.  Her moaning was louder now, and her torso swayed back and
forth on the bungees in rhythm to the whip.

She came through the first half quite well considering the punishment being
meted out.  I think, however, that once she completed the back lashings that she
was hoping her torment would be over.  That is because she did not react well
when I told her that we must not forget about the front of her body, the more
sensitive part.

I now told her that I was going to remove her metal loin covering.  I proceeded
to do this by unsnapping the garment into two pieces and it flopped to her feet. 
Next, I removed her blindfold.

She asked, "why now did you decide to remove the blindfold?"
I said, "that is because I really want to see the anguish of the agony combined
with the pleasure of your suffering reflected in the beautiful image of your
face."

She panicked and said, "Oh no, you mean you are not through with me, I can't
take anymore, my body can't take anymore, surely you aren't serious?  I did not
know what I wanted you to do to me could be so painful, so awful, oh God, you
must stop, please I beg you, you must let me down, I can't last any more!"

"Ilsa, you can always stop. You can stop at any point you want to.  All it takes
is one simple word, one word that will end all this torment, one word that you
always had the potential to use, but up to now you would steadfastly refuse to
do so.  This could be the first time, and I will forgive you for the fact that
you instructed me to use your body in any reasonable fashion I deem fit and push
you over the edge, and then you could not deliver what you had promised.  If you
utter that one word, I will immediately stop your suffering, we will pack up and
go home.  However, I must tell you, for the first time you have been with me,
you will have failed in your resolve, you will have been broken by me.  I am
disappointed in your failure, but I am proud that I would have broken such a
proud and haughty animal like you.  Tell me what I should do."

She screamed, "You call me the animal.  You are the animal, you bastard; you
know I cannot stop, I cannot admit failure, and I must complete this ordeal.  I
cannot fail you, I love you even as I now hate you for doing this to me, but I
know one day I will be proud of what I accomplished here today, and you will
always demand my respect for having not allowed me to fail.  Do it now, finish
me off, and do what you need to be done to me."

I took the whip back in my hands, and proceeded to strike blow after blow on the
front of her thighs.  In a horse voice, she counted accurately, while she
squirmed on the restraints.  I finished with her thighs, and then moved the
object of the whip to her firm abdomen.  The whipcords splayed across her
abdomen and bit into her flesh, leaving whip marks wherever they landed.  This
area was much more painful, and now she was moaning loudly.  But she managed to
count through all the strokes.  When this part of her body was finished with the
whip, she was heaving her chest in deep breaths, and as previously instructed,
she gasped out, "Please now whip my breasts, please, I need to feel its kiss on
the front of me."

I gave her a considerable period of time to rest in preparation to the
conclusion of her ordeal. Up to now her mountainous bulbs protruding from her
chest wall escaped the ravages of the whip except for the initial lash.  I knew
that in spite of the pain, that sexually she was still excited, because up to
now, in between lashes, her face would look somewhat angelic, even ecstatic, as
if she was smiling to take in the fulfillment of the effects of the sequential
whipping of the various parts of her torso.

However, the matter of her breasts was a totally different scenario.  Her tits
were the most sensitive areas of this woman, so sensitive, that often I was able
to bring her to an orgasm just from the stimulation of her nipples.  This was
now going to be the target, and it was going to be very bad for her.

I first grabbed her left breast with my hand and squeezed as hard as I could
releasing and squeezing up and back for several times.  Some of the dried blood
on her breast came off onto my hand as I squeezed her nipple several times with
extreme viciousness.  Then I went over to  her right breast and did the same. 
These activities were designed to make her breasts and nipples sore and tender
to the touch in preparation for the invasion of the whip on her peaked flesh
mounds.  Both nipples were erect, engorged with blood, and prepared to be
savaged by the whip.

I started to proceed using her nipples as targets, and fortunately, she was
woman whose nipples were sized in proportion to the incredible endowment of
mammary tissue that she possessed.  At the time the whipping began the torment
of her chest, the nipples were so engorged they literally stuck out like short
cigars and inch and a half long and as thick as her thumb. The first stroke
landed on her right breast, but missed the intended target. Nevertheless, the
resulting scream resembled the initial one of this ordeal, her voice echoed into
the distant reaches of the forest.  Only now this blow was followed by another,
and another.  My aim got better. Welts began to form on her breasts. The welts
became networks of purple and red that crisscrossed her chest, with the two
nodes of the network centered on her nipples and areolas.  Some blood began
oozing from her left nipple, where it had bled earlier in the day, as one
particular lash of the whip lacerated and opened the skin on one side of that
tormented brown spike of skin.  I din not ask her to count now, I kept count for
her now, as her suffering, both mental and physical, was just too extreme for
her to concentrate on the count.  The sun was going down now, low in the sky. 
The sweat was pouring off her body, the dried blood on her left breast was now
smeared with the sweat and the breaking of the whip on her nipple.  Each lash
led to a convulsion, a contortion of her torso, a contraction of her limbs,
which flailed on the restraints, which seem to be stretched sometimes by her to
their maximum limits.  The bungee cords were too strong to ever break even
though they began to look like they would do so. With each invasion of her skin
by the whip, another set of pink stripes would appear on her chest.  Several
times the knotted ends of the whip made direct contact with her nipples.  The
screams were awful.  Yes, I knew that I was satisfying a long present craving
that she had always fantasized about, I knew that she would be forever grateful
for me having taken over her mind and body to this agonized extent and given her
the experience of having gone into the deep black abyss that lay beyond any of
her previously attained limits, an abyss so deep that only she knew what it was
like because only she would have now been there. However, at the same time, I
felt that I was exceeding her limits to endure the torture I was meting out.  I
do not think I was putting her in danger, but I knew that the time to stop her
ordeal was fast approaching. Her chest looked liked she was encased in red
spider webs.

However, I could not resist the overpowering urge to go on.  As a physician, I
had one advantage in that I would be able to tell, hopefully, how much physical
torture she was actually capable of enduring before one had to deal with a
medically unsafe situation. Every so often, I would grab her hair and pull it
back lifting her tormented face toward me to see if she was still conscious, and
although now her face lost the look of ecstasy and was replaced by the mask of
terror, this creature continued her defiance, her choice to endure more agony,
for she continued to refuse to use her one and only escape from this hell, her
safeword.  While the punishment seem to exert the most damage on the left
breast, after a dozen more lashes assaulted her right areola, the skin on the
right nipple also opened up slightly, leading to some oozing of blood.  I never,
ever pushed her so far before this, she was now pulled past any of her
previously existing levels of pain and torture experienced with either me or
anybody else, and she now was in the hell of torment and pleasure that she
always had been driven to attain.  Blood trickled and dripped off her breasts,
off her nipples, onto her lower abdomen and pubic hair, and still I pushed on,
as I knew she still remained conscious, still did not choose her one option for
me to stop, and still had placed her trust and safety in my hands.  I knew that
not only was she trying to beyond all her previously known limits, but I also
know that she was also doing this for me, allowing her body to be sacrificed for
my pleasure.  My whipping continued, and each time the whip landed, five leather
thongs assaulted a new area of her skin, and five leather knots would make
contact with her breasts and nipples causing five new areas of agony to burst
out and quickly blossom into intense torment. Five new areas of purple and red
would erupt, with an occasional rupture of the fabric of her skin, every time
the whip flew onto her, leading to a sonic eruption of agony, a cacophony of
sound that really was hard to comprehend how her vocal cords could continue to
maintain such output.  Each massive sonic outburst was accompanied by a
convulsive heaving and shaking of her limbs and torso, that flung her sweat and
blood into the air, where gentle wind currents lifted the aroma of her
distressed being into my nostrils. The muscles of her athletic body rippled and
contracted creating an incredible picture of female flesh going wild.

But her loud screaming was indeed now lowering gradually in intensity as
exhaustion was setting in.  My right arm, the arm that I was using to torment
her, was now beginning to feel like lead, and was quite sore.  Only a few more
bites of the whip to go, I just wanted her to go the distance.  One more to the
right breast, another to the left breast, still another one that hit a nipple,
and ran up to her upper left shoulder.  It was now virtually nightfall.  It was
starting to get difficult to see where to aim the weapon at her body.  The last
thing I would want is a stroke to be placed across her beautiful angelic face,
where it might mar her beauty, let alone cause some social problems when she
reported to work Monday.  With one last great heave, the five knotted agonizing
strings of fire tore into the skin of her chest, her breasts heaved one last
time, but now little sound came from her. She had taken well over a hundred
lashes just to her breasts, not even counting into the total, the whipping
delivered to the rest of her body.

It was time to take her down.  I undid all her restraints, and gently lowered
her body to the ground onto the picnic blanket.  At that point, I lied down
beside her, took her into my arms, and cuddled her tightly, thinking what a
wonderful, powerful, magnificent person she was.

When she began to talk, the first thing she said was, "Thank you for doing what
you did to me, I am now whole, and I have been to the dark side, the abyss, and
I came back from hell, pain, and unfathomable pleasure.   But I am
disappointed."

"My god, why is that, didn't I do enough to you?  I asked with disbelief?"
"Well, yes and no.  You hurt me everywhere like I asked you to, but not in my
insides."
"I was going to whip you between your legs, but there was not enough light left
to do it.  I was stopped by the fading of the sunlight."

"I know, that is why I want you now inside me, inside me with the same force
that you whipped my body today.  I want you to grab and maul my breasts,
squeezing the life out of them with your hands. Make sure you split me in two
with your prick and ride me like a stallion back into the hell I just came from. 
You better do this right, damn you, you better do this right." hysterically
crying out in a tormented, exhausted voice.

While she certainly had her physical needs and cravings taken care of during her
session with me, and my needs in this area were certainly taken care of with my
torment of her, nevertheless, she was still in a state of unsatisfied sexual
frenzy, and I did not have any of my cravings in this regard taken care of
either.

I climbed onto her body, clenched her breasts in my hands, and as I kept my
weight and balance borne completely on her chest, I tore into her again and
again, riding her like I would have done to a wild horse.  The heat inside of me
was building.  I started jamming her so hard that I felt the back of her pelvis
being jammed into the ground by the force of my strokes.  It actually felt like
my prick was going right through her body and I was ramming the ground.  The
thin picnic blanket offered her no protective cushion against the battering of
my prick. She began screaming again, but how she managed to do this I do not
know, because with the full weight of my body being applied to her heaving chest
wall, and her mounds of flesh literally being pulled off of her body, I really
found it amazing that she could breath, let alone scream.  Her screaming went on
and on as I finally spurted my hot lead into her, and the orgasmic convulsions
of this amazing woman and my awareness of the stars above us in what was now the
night sky faded from consciousness.

My relationship with this incredible woman had scaled the heights of perfection. 
What will happen to us in the future, only God could possibly know.   However,
one thing I knew for certain - it would be very advisable for me to do some
heavy creative thinking for this future, because when this lady starts getting
her cravings again and she wants her encore to what happened today, I better be
ready with a plan, a plan that will do an even better job of putting her mind
and body into the hell of pleasure and pain that has become her soul.


							Sybarite D'anguisette

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