DOMestic Bdsm and Female Domination

Betty said: "You will pack up everything left in the house; then
we will drive to Las Vegas and stay overnight. Tomorrow morning
we will drive to Sarah's house."

I said: "Yes ma'am."

I packed everything, with a little help from Betty with her bed.

From Henderson to Las Vegas was a short trip and we arrived at
1:30 in the afternoon. Betty knew where we were going and she
guided me to a hotel where we got a room. Betty and I checked
the room and then she said we were leaving. In the car she
directed me to a semi commercial area that did not look like it
catered to tourists. We found the address.

We parked in a lot with a few other cars in front of a two or
three story building. I locked the van and followed Betty. She
went in a door that said private and nothing else. I followed
her in. A man was sitting at a counter that had a phone. Betty
said something to him and a door opened that I hadn't seen.
Betty took my hand and we went in. It was a nice well lit room.
A pretty lady sat behind a desk. She and Betty shook hands, and
the lady said: "Is this Jim?"

Betty said: "Yes."

The lady said to Betty: "Have him read this and sign it. I'll
need to see his driver's license."

Betty took the papers and led me to a sofa and indicated I
should sit with her. Betty said: "Read the papers and sign them,
if you make a fuss here I promise you that you'll regret it."

I said: "Yes ma'am."

I read the papers, they said I was here for corporal punishment,
I was in good health and I won't hold Global Entertainment
liable for anything. And that it will hurt. And that's what the
$400 fee is for; summarizing 9 pages.

I said: "Miss Betty, can't I just give you the $400 and you can
beat me?"

Betty said: "Sign it and give me your driver's license;" I did
and I had butterflies in my stomach.

The pretty receptionist checked the driver's license with my
signature and she wrote the information on the application I had
signed and gave Betty the license who gave it to me.

Betty talked to the receptionist who appeared to know someone
who Betty knew. Now they were friends. She gave Betty a basket
and handcuffs. Betty told me to take all my clothes off and put
them into the basket. She gave me flip-flops to wear on my feet.

The pretty receptionist handcuffed me and told me to wait on the
far side of the room, she said 'no questions, no talking'. Betty
gave me a kiss and went out some other door. I was scared.

I stood for about five or ten minutes when two young girls
(under thirty looks young to me) came and told me to follow one
of them. The other followed me. We went up a flight of stairs
and we came out onto a hallway. There were doors along the wall,
like in a motel. The girl in back said "he is in room six". The
girl in front stopped and unlocked a door and ushered me in.
What I saw in the room was a pillory; there was a table that
held a cane and a strap. There were several chairs.

The front girl asked "have you ever been in one of these."

I said: "Yes ma'am."

She said: "That's good; it's a little imposing to people who
have never been in one." While she was talking to me, the girl
in back removed my handcuffs and in a few seconds I was locked
into the pillory. The girl in back fastened my feet. These two
had practiced this maneuver. I was locked into stocks waiting
for a whipping. Why did I feel so afraid?

Then Betty came in holding the basket with my clothes. She came
up and kissed me. She said: "The waiting is the worst part." I
was so happy to see her.

I said: "How long will this take?"

Betty said: "You were told - 'no talking no questions;' you
don't want to disobey these people." Betty put a finger on my
lips.

About five or ten minutes later an older lady came in carrying a
thick piece of leather cut so it had a handle.

She said: "If you conduct yourself well I won't gag you. If you
scream up a storm you will be gagged. I don't recommend it
because it hampers your breathing. You're getting fifty strokes
spaced out over an hour. If you struggle excessively you may
receive up to one hundred strokes. My name is Mrs. Sturgis.
There is no talking, no questions."

She wasn't finished talking when a giant force slammed into me.
The air was forced out of me. Then again. My entire backside was
on fire. I could not last fifty. I couldn't stop it either.

After what was only ten she stopped.

Betty came over with tissues. She gently wiped my eyes and nose.
I love this lady so much.

Mrs. Sturgis came back for another round. When she finished and
left I said to Betty: "I love you."

Betty put her finger to her lips meaning be quiet. I wondered
why when Mrs. Sturgis returned she said: "Talking gets you five
more strokes. You're on your way to a hundred."

I wondered how they knew. But I won't talk any more. I was
becoming more tenderised or Mrs. Sturgis was getting more
energetic. My whole being was overwhelmed with pain, I couldn't
think about anything. She was hitting me in a narrow band, each
stroke was on top of a previous stroke. I was actually out of
breath when she completed this round.

I was a little buoyed by the fact that it was more than half
over.

The next round had me seeing stars, I think it's an aberration
of blood flow. Betty applied the Kleenex so tenderly that I felt
a communion with her.

I bravely faced the final round but my bravado collapsed as the
monster strap exploded on my butt. I ended up crying. It hurt so
much. On top of that Mrs. Sturgis said: "We have five bonus
strokes for you."

I tried again to compose myself and Betty was very comforting.

Mrs. Sturgis came back and shattered my resolve to be brave.
About five minutes later the young girls came back and released
me from the pillory. They brought a couple of bottles of chilled
water. One of them said: "You have a half hour to relax and use
the facility. We will put you back in at 3:00."

I said: "Miss Betty isn't it over?"

Betty hugged me and said: "No talking and no questions."

I just survived one of the worst beatings of my life and nobody
will tell me if I'm about to get another. I flopped down on the
sofa and my entire bottom stung.

Betty laughed: "You may not be able to sit for a few days, you
can ride in the back of the van standing and I'll drive."

When I walked around parts of my flesh stung as I stretched it.
This was a major beating. I couldn't sit but I could lean
against the pillory and face Betty. It appears she may talk but
I may not.

Betty said: "Don't pout. You took that very well, you're a brave
boy."

Betty is so lovely she's wearing a white blouse and a brown
skirt and brown heels. And I could peek up the brown skirt a
little. Betty smiled at me. Then the two young ladies returned
and secured me back into the pillory.

Then Mrs. Sturgis returned and said: "Same rules compose
yourself and you receive only fifty strokes of the cane over an
hour. You could get a hundred and you could get gagged."

With that I received a cut that felt like it traveled inches
into my rear. I held back a scream mindful of the warning.

I should have made an attempt to escape during the break.

Then another just as bad, and another, I was having trouble not
screaming or wiggling or something, I can't describe the
horrible pain as your flesh is torn to pieces.

Then ten was over.

Betty said: "You look upset, you poor baby;" and she ministered
with another Kleenex. I wanted to talk but I did not want one
single extra stroke. I don't know how I can stand the rest of
this caning.

Somehow I did. I thought the whole thing was over when the two
young ladies released me from the Pillory. But one of them said:
"You may use the facilities, but there is no talking; here is
some water; we will be back at four-thirty."

Betty said: "You have been very brave. The next session is the
last; we will have a nice dinner afterward."

I really couldn't take any more. I touched my behind and just
touching it hurt. Who is in charge here? I wondered. Don't they
have a liability for damaging me? I probably agreed they could,
but you can't just sign away those rights. But Betty got me into
this; did she know how severe it was? I thought that she did.
And she is not upset, she seems like this is progressing just
fine.

My thoughts were interrupted by the two young ladies who
expertly fastened me back into the pillory. Why am I letting
these people lead me to this slaughter? I guess I'm trained to
obey. Besides we paid $400 for this privilege.

Am I going crazy?

That thought was interrupted by Mrs. Sturgis. She said: "You
were very stoic with the cane. I congratulate you. Rules are the
same as before. Important thing is to keep yourself composed."

An awfully hard swat of a strap burned in such a way that the
pain didn't begin to diminish at all, the next one joined it and
my backside was lit up with pain. I found I was grinding my
teeth. I was becoming light headed by the time it stopped. It
must have been ten.

Betty brought the Kleenex; she caressed my head and put it
against her chest between her breasts. I guess I am going
through this grueling beating for this woman. Shouldn't I be
repulsed that she caused this to happen; instead I love her so
much? I am going crazy. I wanted my face between her breasts for
ever.

I no longer can express how much it hurt other than to say Mrs.
Sturgis didn't let up. Even Betty's tenderness between the
sessions didn't lesson my state of agony. This was the most
painful hour of my life.

Finally the two young ladies released me and said I could get
dressed and I was allowed to talk. The pain was too much to
allow me to sit, so I got dressed standing. Betty helped me with
my socks and shoes.

Finally we left that place. I thanked Betty for staying with me.
I swore to her that I would not disappoint her ever. I stood in
the back of the Van because I couldn't sit.

We talked about going out to dinner; Betty knew a place that
might work for me. It was a restaurant that had a bar section
with high tables at which I could stand. The beer was so good
and the food was above average. Betty started the conversation
about my session by asking me what I thought. I said I didn't
think I could take so many strokes and still walk. I didn't
realize there could be so much pain.

Betty said that for $2000 I could have stayed for a week.

I said a half day was more than enough for me. Betty laughed and
said there is more to pain than a sore bottom. I didn't pursue
that with her.

Betty seemed to know a lot about the place, she told me that the
entire session is recorded; supervisors watch for excessive
distress, the young ladies were trained to sense if I had needed
assistance. Mrs. Sturgis would not have caused any bleeding or
would have stopped.

Then Betty said: "I won't be able to spank you for a few days,
but don't forget you can stand in the corner or eat off the
floor or write lines."

I said: "Yes ma'am Miss Betty."

Betty said: "If you make me angry I'll make you sit on a hard
surface;" and she laughed.

I said: "I won't make you angry at me."

Betty hugged me with one arm. I was so close to her.

We left the restaurant the way we came, Betty driving, me
standing and holding on in the back.

When we got back to our room Betty told me to strip and lie face
down on the bed. I thought I was going to be whipped but I did
what I was told to do. Betty rubbed some cream into my butt and
the tops of my legs. The cream felt good, Betty's hands rubbing
it in felt very good.

When she finished we went into the bathroom, we both washed our
hands but Betty sat down on the toilet and beckoned with her
finger for me to kneel between her legs. I was very happy to. I
lost track of time but I ate Betty for a long time. And I
wouldn't have stopped but Betty indicated she'd had enough.

I was well enough so I could help get her undressed and tucked
in. We had a King Size bed, Betty decided I could sleep
horizontally at her feet. I did and fell asleep with Betty's
feet touching my head.

read part thirty-three here