whip and let it hiss through the air; then she slowly removed the furs exposing her naked body.
"Exquisite!" I exclaimed.
"Silence, slave!" She scowled and struck me with the whip.
“Pains that come through you are a joy.”
“Strike again Victoria if it gives you pleasure”
“Whip me, I begged, whip me without mercy."
Victoria swung the whip twice like a novice.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"No!” I screamed, “whip me! I beg you! It is a joy to me!” Then tossed myself face to the floor at her feet.
“Become my slave, and know what it means to be delivered into the hands of a woman."
Then she cracked the whip.
"Get up!" She screamed.
I was about to rise.
"Not that way," she commanded, "turn away from me!"
I obeyed, and she began to apply the lash again with much more authority. The blows fell rapidly and powerfully on my back and arms. Each one cut into my flesh and burned there, but the pains enraptured me. They came from her whom I adored, and for whom I was ready at any hour to lay down my life.
She stopped.
"I am beginning to enjoy it," she said.
"But enough for today. I am beginning to feel a demonic curiosity to test the limits of your conformity. I take a cruel joy in seeing you tremble beneath my whip, and in hearing your groans and wails. I want to go on whipping without pity until you beg for mercy, until you lose your senses. You have awakened dangerous elements in my body. But now get up."
I seized her hand to press it to my lips. She shoved me away with her foot and retrieved her furs. At that moment my face hit the floor. I began to feel disoriented and things became blurry.
END OF CHAPTER 2
3
Having spent a feverish night filled with confused dreams, I awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I found myself still at Mr. White’s estate sitting in front of the fireplace that has long burned out. How much of what was hovering in my memory was true; what had I actually experienced and what had I dreamed? That I had been whipped was certain. I can still feel each blow.. My dream has become truth. All this cannot express in the remotest way my feeling for her, my complete devotion to her. What happiness to be her slave!
I spotted Mr. White and his blonde housekeeper sitting at his kitchen table reading the newspaper and having a cup of coffee.
“Would you like to join us and have a cup?” he asked.
“I would love some coffee,” I replied.
After his housekeeper poured the coffee she left the room so we could chat.
“Mr. White, what is your general feeling towards women,” I asked.
"I respect a woman who is either virtuous and lives according to her own convictions, or who openly lives for pleasure's sake and is guided by her passions," he said.
"But you see, a woman can only do that in the rarest cases. She can neither be as openly sensual, nor as spiritually free as a man; her state is always a mixture of the sensual and spiritual.”
Her heart desires to enslave a man forever, while she herself is ever subject to the desire for change. The result is a conflict that begins a series of lies and deception that manifest into her actions and personality and corrupt her character."
"Certainly from my experience that is true," I said, “the unreasonable ideals of love that exist in a woman leads her to deception and weak character."
"Every woman has the instinct or desire to seek advantages from her attractions, and if she does it in cold blood, she can reap its rewards ," he said.
“What are you saying?" I said.
“Take note of what I am about to say to you. Never feel secure with the woman you love, for there are more dangers in a woman's nature than you imagine. Women are neither as good as their admirers maintain, nor as bad as their enemies make them out to be. A woman's character is flawed.”
“The best woman will momentarily go down into the dirt, and the worst unexpectedly rises to deeds of greatness and
"Exquisite!" I exclaimed.
"Silence, slave!" She scowled and struck me with the whip.
“Pains that come through you are a joy.”
“Strike again Victoria if it gives you pleasure”
“Whip me, I begged, whip me without mercy."
Victoria swung the whip twice like a novice.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"No!” I screamed, “whip me! I beg you! It is a joy to me!” Then tossed myself face to the floor at her feet.
“Become my slave, and know what it means to be delivered into the hands of a woman."
Then she cracked the whip.
"Get up!" She screamed.
I was about to rise.
"Not that way," she commanded, "turn away from me!"
I obeyed, and she began to apply the lash again with much more authority. The blows fell rapidly and powerfully on my back and arms. Each one cut into my flesh and burned there, but the pains enraptured me. They came from her whom I adored, and for whom I was ready at any hour to lay down my life.
She stopped.
"I am beginning to enjoy it," she said.
"But enough for today. I am beginning to feel a demonic curiosity to test the limits of your conformity. I take a cruel joy in seeing you tremble beneath my whip, and in hearing your groans and wails. I want to go on whipping without pity until you beg for mercy, until you lose your senses. You have awakened dangerous elements in my body. But now get up."
I seized her hand to press it to my lips. She shoved me away with her foot and retrieved her furs. At that moment my face hit the floor. I began to feel disoriented and things became blurry.
END OF CHAPTER 2
3
Having spent a feverish night filled with confused dreams, I awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I found myself still at Mr. White’s estate sitting in front of the fireplace that has long burned out. How much of what was hovering in my memory was true; what had I actually experienced and what had I dreamed? That I had been whipped was certain. I can still feel each blow.. My dream has become truth. All this cannot express in the remotest way my feeling for her, my complete devotion to her. What happiness to be her slave!
I spotted Mr. White and his blonde housekeeper sitting at his kitchen table reading the newspaper and having a cup of coffee.
“Would you like to join us and have a cup?” he asked.
“I would love some coffee,” I replied.
After his housekeeper poured the coffee she left the room so we could chat.
“Mr. White, what is your general feeling towards women,” I asked.
"I respect a woman who is either virtuous and lives according to her own convictions, or who openly lives for pleasure's sake and is guided by her passions," he said.
"But you see, a woman can only do that in the rarest cases. She can neither be as openly sensual, nor as spiritually free as a man; her state is always a mixture of the sensual and spiritual.”
Her heart desires to enslave a man forever, while she herself is ever subject to the desire for change. The result is a conflict that begins a series of lies and deception that manifest into her actions and personality and corrupt her character."
"Certainly from my experience that is true," I said, “the unreasonable ideals of love that exist in a woman leads her to deception and weak character."
"Every woman has the instinct or desire to seek advantages from her attractions, and if she does it in cold blood, she can reap its rewards ," he said.
“What are you saying?" I said.
“Take note of what I am about to say to you. Never feel secure with the woman you love, for there are more dangers in a woman's nature than you imagine. Women are neither as good as their admirers maintain, nor as bad as their enemies make them out to be. A woman's character is flawed.”
“The best woman will momentarily go down into the dirt, and the worst unexpectedly rises to deeds of greatness and
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