Bdsm Whipping Stories
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Bdsm Whipping Stories
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A submissive wife feels a whipping for the first time.
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Favorited by Loki_Darksong , socal1236 , MichelStrict and 14 others
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She slowly walked to the whipping post and exhaled slowly. Staring at the wooden form in front of her, Blush slowly began unbuttoning her white blouse. She knew she had asked for this... well, agreed to it really. Her husband was standing off to the side, the 4 foot singletail stockyard whip already in his one hand, and leather cuffs in the other. He had always had a whipping fantasy, or so he said.
In her 10 years of marriage, Blush had experienced her fair share of spankings. Jeff had been working up slowly to this day. What had started long ago as hand slaps on her bottom during sex had gradually turned into mild sessions over his lap, then with her bent over the end of the bed. She had felt the paddle, strap, and even the cane. Finally, Jeff had confessed his "ultimate fantasy" of whipping a woman. Hard. Blush didn't know what to think at first, but even Jeff's hardest spankings had left her wet between her legs, and they always ended in sex. So, she had agreed.
That was two weeks ago. Since then, Jeff had been hard at work in the workshop, designing a whipping post that could stand free in the "punishment room". That was what he had taken to calling it. The spare bedroom that no one ever slept in was now devoid of all normal furniture except a solitary armless wooden chair. A caning and spanking horse also adorned a corner of the room. The whipping post would be its new addition. When it was finished yesterday, Jeff brought it into the house in two pieces and set it up. It fit in nicely. For a good bit of the rest of the evening, as Blush bustled about the living room and kitchen, she could hear Jeff swinging the whip and practicing in the room with a pillow tied to the post.
Today, Blush had received a text from Jeff at work. It was simple. It read: "Tonight you will be whipped. Wear a black skirt, white blouse, thigh-hi nylons and heels. No underwear. Put your hair up. Be ready when I get home." Blush's heart fluttered when she read it, and she felt her pussy moisten. Filled with apprehension and anticipation all wrapped up into a ball in her stomach, she finished her day and prepared herself as instructed. When she heard Jeff's car in the driveway and his key in the lock at the front door, she jumped. When he walked in, she could tell he was already aroused. She stood there in the entrance to the hallway leading back to the room, waiting. In what seemed like a blur, she found herself led to the back room and pushed in gently. She heard the door close behind her. She glanced at the post, knowing that was where she was ending up.
"Face the post and start undressing," Jeff said. Blush walked calmly to the post and stood, reaching for the buttons on her blouse. All too soon it seemed, it was lying on the floor and kicked away, and she stood, bare from the waist up. Blush then reached for the zipper on the back of her skirt and unzipped it, letting the fabric slide down her thighs before ending up on the floor as well. Before she could go further, Jeff cuffed her wrists quickly and hooked the leather cuffs to the top of the whipping post. He had measured well; her feet were barely on the floor. With nothing left to do, Blush waited.
Jeff stepped back to admire his wife stretched out against the new post. He stood back, measuring out the length as he had the night before, and brought the whip around behind him. His first tentative swing forward to make sure his distance was correct did not have much force behind it, but Blush still swayed a little and gasped in surprise. Satisfied he was standing where he should be, Jeff raised the whip again and this time swung harder, watching the end of the lash cross Blush's back. She tensed, then moaned softly as the effect of the stroke sank in. Jeff felt his erection grow even harder as he fulfilled one of his deepest fantasies, and swung the whip again. The lash caught Blush across the middle of her back again, and Jeff saw the muscles in her arms and shoulders tense against the pain. He began to whip her hard... again... and again. He watched her jerk against her bonds as she began gasping harder and crying out with each lash she took. The whip continued to snap against her bare skin, leaving long red lines. Soon, Blush convulsed and cried out with each lash and started to feel hot tears on her cheeks. Still, she knew better than to beg. She was determined to take every lash Jeff intended to give her.
For his part, Jeff had never been more aroused. His beautiful wife was writhing and dancing against the post, her skin lined with welts. He felt he would burst if this continued. Finally, he tossed the whip aside after landing several harsh lashes in quick succession across her haunches that left her gasping and nearly hoarse. Not bothering to let her down, he roughly pried open her legs and pulled her hips toward him, making her arch her back. Blush, knowing what was coming, was only too eager to get in position. She moaned in pleasure as his first thrust stretched her open. Her painful welts became a rapidly fading sensation to the pleasure that built up inside her as she was taken against the whipping post. Soon, they climaxed in unison. Not long after as they both stood there, still together, panting, Jeff finally reached up and released Blush from her restraints. As Jeff led her away, she knew it wouldn't be long before she healed and found herself here again.
My beautiful and very religious wife sees sex as a gift that she gives and that she would be selfish to be looking for her own pleasure. I suggested whipping her so she'd endure pain to ensure non arousal. She agreed. I am a sadistic bustard who loves whipping her and fucking her.
My wife gets whipped real often with my razor strap.She get large welts then she begs to get fucked as hard as i can
now and again it is lucky to get one. it makes one so humble. great story Sir
mmm, I would love to get a whipping like that. your story made me hot. Sir. thank you for writing it.
His wife loved him enough to submit to the whip for his fantasy. If he loved her, he would massage a healing cream into her wounds and work the kinks out of her strained muscles. He doesn't deserve her!
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Simone gives him his first taste of the whip.
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Neon signs in the middle of day. Now the glass-tube truth. A bunch of wires. Tired tape. Common, urban dirt. One of the signs went "XXX!!!". Another one, "Toys Here for Sale!"
The building was a simple plywood box. Some architect's version to the plain paper bag.
In a car parked across the street, a woman turned to a man and asked, 'That's it?'
'That is the place', the man replied.
Simone made a face like smelling something bad. Then she made an announcement. 'I am not going in there. Not in this lifetime.'
'Look, you'd probably enjoy it.' A low and sure and confidential tone. 'Ambience of a locker room. A locker room for team testosterone. A bunch of little males failing to hide... their enthusiasm.'
Simone considered this and touched her hair. 'One hears the voice of experience.'
Brian turned a becoming shade of pink. Like a lobster with glasses. 'Not exactly. Been there once. It was sort of a dare.'
'I am not going in there.' A very final tone of voice.
To this Brian courageously replied, 'I will not venture in that establishment alone.'
Simone lifted her line-of-beauty eyebrows. 'You forgot some extremely important verbiage.'
It took twenty minutes. He returned with a box like a box for roses. Brian offered the box to his owner. 'Mistress... '
She jumped him. Simone pinned him down. Capture. Trapped him. Arms and weight. She held him like a fluffy toy. She squeezed like a toy. And then, 'Open your mouth my little slave.' A woman's tongue can penetrate a man. Penetrate far.
Simone sat back. Sat there like she hadn't even shaken up the world.
The first law of deadening is put lots and lots and lots and lots of soft and light and flexible objects and no short circuits between the source of noise and the curious ears. The second law of deadening is to not really care, if the ears win.
Simone's bedroom was full of soft, light, flexible objects. Pillows. Bedspreads. Comforters. Rugs. A couple of ratty old beanbag chairs. The friendly face of a torture chamber. And, in the her words, 'If anybody asks, "What was all that racket?" I'll smile and tell 'em I was flogging my boyfriend.' She grinned.
Then she stopped grinning, 'Are you sure you want to do this?'
Brian blinked. He had thought about this day a lot. A lot. 'I want all the world for you. But I can't get all the world. Store is out. Always will be out. But the romantic in me does not believe this. So I want at least a part the world - the part that is me - to be for you. So I'll let do whatever you want and do anything you say. Or to put less grandly, I'm a submissive guy and I love you.' A pause. A pause as they both considered these words.
Brian was embarrassed and continued quickly, 'Of course in real life my giving has a memory leak. Or something. Some flaw. Some minor - maybe not so minor - flaw or set of flaws. I want to try however.' A brief hesitation. 'I feel like an astronaut. I'm about to ride a rocket. This blast off is something I will always remember. Always. Forever. Or 'til they stick me in the ground. But in point of fact, I am scared shitless. All that rocket fuel.' Another pause. 'To answer your question, yes I want this. Yes. Yes. Yes.'
'You must understand something.' She went on slowly. She carefully enunciated individual words. She looked Brian in the eye as she spoke. 'I will hurt you. You will suffer. I will give you agony so that I can have fun.'
Simone kissed Brian with exaggerated gentleness.
Then she stepped away and let a minute pass. Then, 'Strip.'
Her slave quietly and hurriedly and completely undressed.
Brian knelt. He lowered his eyes. He was careful to notice how the floorboards met.
Simone inspected her property. Her slave. Walked back and forth. Walked back and forth. Slowly - patiently - back and forth.
Simone circled. Examined his front. She examined the front and examined the back. She examined each side of her slave. Of her slave. She ordered her slave to assume positions which made body orifices vivid in her gaze.
Brian did not make any moise. He was not allowed to make any noise.
Simone stopped pacing. She put her left foot forward.
Brian obeyed. His obedience began with the toes.
'Tongue between the toes.' A soft, stern voice. A soft and stern and lovely voice.
Brian did what Simone desired. Sounds of acquiesce were the only sounds in the universe to them.
Simone commanded her property and slave to lick the heels of her naked feet. She watched him do her will. Her will.
'Stop. Lift your eyes my slave. Brian, look at me.'
She was beautiful. Beautiful. Like beacon. Like a star.
Brian crawled across to the dresser. And retrieved the cardboard box. He began opening... .
'Wait. Present it. Present the whip from on your knees.'
He stopped. Knelt. Took the top off the box. Then, like a priest, Brian held it up high.
Then Simone took the whip. Simone held the leather whip. Balance. Wrist strap. A few slashes through the air. Slashes through air. Brian saw the motion. And he heard it.
'Lay across the pillow. Hold your bottom up and out. Close your eyes. And remember two things: Its only pain and it is for me.'
Brian obeyed Simone. The whipping suddenly began.
Simone's expression was not full of kindness. She was cold and cruel and calm. And above. Her lips were a line on her smooth and lovely face.
Brian felt her passion in every blow. Every single blow. The intensity he suffered was the intensity of her lust. The intensity of Simone's love. Despite this and knowing this, Brian made a little moan.
Simone found more power. And gave it to her slave.
Brian twisted. Helpless moan. He made himself steady, but Simone did not wait.
She grabbed his neck. She clenched her teeth. She beat and beat and beat her slave. Brian created a few warm tears.
Another stroke. Another stroke. Another stroke. Again. Then she stopped.
He rose stiffly to his feet and fell loudly to his knees. Simone leaned over and kissed her possession.
Simone's pleasure - the energy and the happiness that filled her - that filled her - that made her eyes like morning snow and made her cheeks like newborn fire - entranced the kneeling Brian. Entranced the kneeling man.
In one of the thirty thousand paradoxes of female domination, he had never felt so powerful in his life. And never felt so proud.
Simone ordered Brian to masturbate for her. 'I'll decide if you may come. I will tell you when and if.'
Afterwards Simone lay awake as Brian slept. She placed a leg across his waist and hooked an arm around his neck. Simone embraced Brian like a life ring in a hellish storm. She played with his nipples and caressed his hair. Then Simone caressed his eyebrows. Then she fell asleep.
(c) Copyright 2002. All rights reserved.
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Public whippings as a form of entertainment.
The center of attention at a BDSM party.
A late night impromptu single tail whipping.
Valerie's depth of submission deepens and she falls in love.
Karen's first punishment is deeply pleasurable.
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