I had seen videos of the extremely violent judicial punishments carried out by various countries in the Far East. Malaysia seems to be especially keen on the use of the heavy rattan cane as part of it’s law and order armoury. Usually wielded by a burly uniformed policeman it is indeed a fearsome implementation. The victim is strapped across a timber frame, with necessary padded protection for the kidneys and the punishment administratored under medical supervision. From what I have now experienced, the sjambok matches the heavy rattan in every way. At the time of the execution of a sjambok beating there is nothing you would not do to escape the incredible pain that it’s hard application delivers. However In the calm and serene aftermath of a twenty stroke beating, bathed in the raging torrent of endorphins that the body produces as an antidote to the ago, one’s perspective undergoes a revision. With the fading of the intensity of the pain the intrinsic eroticism comes to the fore, and with it also certain pride in having undergone such an intense ordeal at the feet of such a skilled dominatrix, having taken manfully all that she could offer. There is also of course the knowledge that one is in the custody of a woman to whom many men will gladly pay substantial sums of money for the privilege of being treated in such a harsh and cruel manner.
Arianne de Vries had carried out the threatened punishment to the letter. There had been absolutely no holding back, each stroke being delivered with full force. The sentence had been ten strokes of the sjambok for the theft of the small piece of steak from her dinner plate, ten more for lying about it on being questioned. One could certainly argue as to the fairness of it, but not about the manner of the carrying out of sentence. Despite the former I now feel only deep respect for this beautiful woman. The wounds from the sjambok had been considered. By the sixth stroke endorphins had begun to take the edge from the age.Fortunately for me her enjoyment of carrying out the punishment had meant that each stroke had been separated by a period of time during which she had carefully inspected the effects of it’s predecessor, in this time the endorphins had begun to work their magic. It had been this sixth stroke that had been the cruel one, the point where my skin had split, giving way under the severe impact of the sjambok, allowing the blood to flow freely, the flesh deeply lacerated from this point had taken on the appearance of raw steak.
That this occurred had not determined her from completing the sentence handed down by her for my misdemeanours spoke volumes of her single minded determination and commitment. Arianne would freely admit to having made the transition from a mere professional to that of a true lifestyle dominatrix. She now lived for the thrill that only total domination of another human being could provide to her, it had become a drug that she craved, one that only a true submissive could adequately provide.
Dispite the intense pain of the beating once returned to my cell, deep, dreamless sleep came easily to me. This is another aspect of endorphins, their effect is very soporific. I was expecting to be fetched from my cell in the morning by Gerd, having assumed that Ariannes’s involvement would be peripheral and condensed only to areas of my training. It was with some surprise therefore that I saw her figure framed in the doorway between the holding cell and the dungeon. She was dressed in the same manner as the previous evening, figure hugging black leather jeans, siletto heeled boots that reached to just above the knee, the slightest hint of a smile now playing on her crisis lips.
The short leather singletail that Gerd usually carried was in her hand as she studied me through the steel bars. The key turned in the lock. “Follow me slave.” I followed Arianne obviously from the dungeon up to the kitchen. My breakfast was, as on the previous morning, already prepared on the floor in the steel bowl. I noticed the single plate on the kitchen table, a sign that Gerd was absent. A poisoned red talon pointed to the bowl on the floor. “Make the most of your food slave, there will be nothing for you except for water until this evening. I don’t intend to allow you the sort of leeway that Gerd has given you the last couple of days. We will have a proper day’s work from You today or you will suffer for your lazy.” As if to emphasise this she drew the tail of the whip through her fingers.
It was another warm and sunny day. Arianne waited until I had dressed in my boots and shorts before leading me out on the end of the lean to collect the tools from the coach house. Once in the woods I began work immediately, clearing the vegetation from the paths. I was soon sweating with the effort. She stood, arms folded, feet apart, watching me as I laboured. “You really need to put more effort in boy.” I carried on, maintaining my pace of work even though fatigue was already setting in. She stepped closer in what was quite clearly an attempt to intimidate me, standing directly over me as I cut the overgrown foliage and put it into the barrow. She pointed with her whip to a sweet chestnut tree about twenty metres away. “You have an hour to clear up to that tree, if it’s not done, and done properly, you are in trouble boy”.
She strode off purposefully in the direction of the house, I watched her slim but powerful body, encased in gleaming black leather reception into the distance. She returned shortly before the hour was up. I had almost reached the tree, barely a couple of metres of path remained to be cleared. Arianne looked at my progress before ostentatiously consulting her wrist watch. “It looks as if you have failed to complete the work in the time that I had allotted you.” She said. “I will not countenance either lazy or disobedience, it is my intention to car out a field punishment.” I had heard of fieldPunishments. It was an army term dating back to the First World War when soldiers had been distributed by being tied to a stake or bound to a gun carriage wheel and left for periods of time. Arianne took several lengths of white rope from a sports bag that she carried. She pointed to the trunk of a small tree, about as thick as my thigh.. “Kneel with your back to that tree.” I did as she said.
She quickly and efficiently bound my arms together behind the tree trunk. Then my ankles were bound tightly before being raised up behind the trunk and tied off to a low branch to put me into a kneeing hogtie. The bond was distinctly uncomfortable and over any period of time was sure to become very painful indeed. But this remarkable woman was not yet finished. Arianne slipped the lock off my cock restraint. I felt her fingers Close around my shake, which needed little encouragement to quickly become fully erect, standing out horizontally from my body. She began struggling me. I closed my eyes as she continued this delightful stimulation, running her fingers up and down the now rock hard shake in a manner that demonstrated her easy familiarity with how to satisfy a male. My breaths began to come in short gasps now as I moved closer to what I knew would very likely be the most intense orgasm ever. I readily in the anticipation of my hot seed being explored in the most delightful manner imagined. Then she stopped. Her face moved close to mine. “You didn’t really think that your mistress would allow you that honour, did you boy? This is meant to be punishment, not reward”.
She took a small glass jar from her bag along with an artists brush. The jar contained a thick amber liquid. Arianne began to paint my cock and balls with the contents of the jar. Still fully erect, she coated the shake with glutinous sweet, sticky honey. She worked some of it into the open slide of my urethea as I wriggled in my tight bonds. Having completed her task she took out the head harness that I had wound in the dungeon and carefully fitted it to me and adjusted it up tightly so that once again I was heavily gagged by the rubber ball that was pulled into my mouth by the straps. Unable to move an inch from my position bound to the tree all I could do was still there balanced on my knees while the honey attracted every insect in the wood, it’s sweet aroma sending out signals to them that here was a free meal to be enjoyed. My abject humiliation at the hands of this beautiful Dutch woman was now complete.
I tried In vain to catch sight of the many insects that were now attracted to my honey covered genitalia. I could hear their constant buzzing and feel the ticket of their progress as they now consumed their sweet sickly meal. It was only a matter of time until the honey was consumed, it was then anyone’s guess as to what they might do. Arianne had returned to the house for her own lunch leaving me bound and helpless. The irritation of the feeding bugs became unbearable as the insects foraged, I could even feel them pursuing the honey into the slit of my cock shake, my struggles against the tight ropes achieved nothing. When Arianne returned I was untied and the head harness removed before being put back to work on the final part of the path clearing. Mercifully I was allowed water, which I gulped greedily, such was my thirst now. Eventually, late in the afternoon the job was finished. Arianne led me back to the coach house to put away my tools.
She squirted some kind of liquid soap onto my cock and balls before ordering me to lie spread eagled on the ground. She uncoiled a hosepipe from the coach house wall and directed a stream of cold water directly between my legs. The shock of the water was intense and it became much colder as it ran. Arianne sprayed the water directly in my face, making me fight for every breath. I was forced to keep my mouth firmly shut to prevent the stream going directly down my throat and choking me. I tried as best I could to breathe through my nose. Eventually she decided that I was clean enough and she switched off the water.
Back at the house I was allowed a shower and my second feed of porridge, eat from the bowl on the kitchen floor. To my surprise Arianne de Vries now led me back outside once more, I was taken to the coach house again. She pointed to the little single seat sulky cart standing in the corner. “Take that outside and stand it by the door”. I manouvred the trotting cart outside and stood by it. “Now take your place between the shakes”. The two shakes projected out from the tubular steel frame of the cart. They were fitted with heavy leather cuffs, two to each shake. Arianne buckled my wrists and forearms tightly to them. A pair of leather reins were now attached to either side of my head harness and the straws buckled up tightly. Finally my leather body harness was tied to the sulky by means of long leather thongs. I had now become a human pony, devoid of free will in exactly the same manner as an animal. Arianne stepped back to admire her work. She took out her mobile phone and began to take pictures of me from several different angles, clearly very proud of her work in transforming me into nothing more than an elegant draft animal for her obvious pleasure. I was unable to offer any input whatsoever to the situation that I now found myself in.
From my position between the Shafts I now regard this elegant woman as she stood before me. Still dressed in her high boots and leather jeans she had put on a crisp white blouse against the gathering chill of the evening air, this lending her something of the appearance of a horsewoman. She carried a long, thin dressage whip in her hands, now covered in black leather gloves that reached to her forearms. She settled herself down into the upholstered seat of the sulky. “You will now take your mistress on a trip through the woods, just follow the paths that you have cleared, and be sure toRespond to my commands immediately. Ok pony, walk on”. I felt the tip of her dressage whip tap my left shoulder. I took a step forward, followed by another. The feel was weird as we began to gather pace towards a brisk trot. I had never felt such a sensing of absolute submissiveness as this. We turned onto the slight upward slope that led into the edge of the wood, the first section that I had worked on clearing. “Gidde up boy! Faster now”. Her cry was accompanied by the first serious stroke of the dressage whip, a firm cut across my bare shoulders that had me yelp before breaking into a run as we progressed deeper into the wood.
Now we approached the long straight section that ran across the far end of the wood parallel to the footpath. It was hidden from the public view by a screen of bushes but at a couple of points it was just possible for walkers to see into the wood. The thought crossed my mind that somebody out on an evening walk might just catch a glimpse of a nearly naked and bound man trusted to a trotting cart hauling his exotic leather clad lady rider on her evening ride through the woods. “Faster!!” Her command rang in my ears, now accompanied by a couple of firm strokes of the whip across my buttocks, still sore from her attentions with the sjambok on the previous night. Somehow I found the energy to break into a full blooded gallop, despite the tight gag preventing he from breathing Through my mouth. I was carrying my mistress at full speed now as we approached the final section that twisted it’s way between the trees towards the end of the course.
Exhausted I collapsed onto my knees. “Up boy!” The shout came from my mistress seated behind me, the whip once again laid across my bare shoulders. Wearily I ignored my feet. “Mistress wants a second lap boy, I so enjoyed the first”. My lungs felt as though they would burst and my legs felt like lead as I set out once more along the track. Arianne used the whip far more liberally on this second lap, every few steps punctuated by a singing blow across my shoulders, back, buttocks or thighs. I sensed her growing excitement as I tired further, the whip now providing the only essential to carry on. Now she was standing on the small platform in front of the seat, like a warrior queen she flexed the dressage whip as the strokes came thick and fast, driving me on until the final reserves of my energy were completely exhausted. I Completed the second lap before dropping to my knees, this time I had no choice, I would stay down whatever she did with the whip. I was unstrapped and fell prostrate to the ground where I lay breathless. Arianne placed the heel of a boot on my chest, standing over me like a big game hunter who had conquered her prey.
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