Karen’s BDSM Submission Fantasy Story

by The Flogmaster

“What is your deepest, darkest, most secret fantasy?” Those words bring a chill to anyone. To reveal something so private, so personal, is difficult. Yet that’s exactly what we have here. In each story, a narrator reveals his or her most private fantasy. In the grand tradition of fantasies, it is a _fantasy_ –it may or may not be realistic or even physically possible. It is not necessarily something the person would really want to experience in real life, but the illusion can be appealing. But no matter how bizarre or incomprehensible, fantasies reveal something intimate about ourselves. So, learn and enjoy. And send me your fantasies!
____________________________The Flogmaster_____________________________

I am naked and bound spread-eagle across a table. A wooden block under my belly lifts my chest upward and a larger one forces my chin up. I am gagged and blindfolded. All I see is blackness. My ears are plugged and everything I hear is muffled, but I can hear people approaching. A large silk table cloth is covering me and the table. The people approach.

Suddenly the tablecloth is removed with a flourish. I am revealed. I trembled, but I feel people crowding around me. My legs are wide apart and I am completely open to them. Even my breasts are exposed. My face is flushed and I can feel my sex dripping imagining all these people looking at me. And I know that worse is to come.

Hands touch me, touch my face, pull on my breasts, pinch my ass. A finger slides up my pussy and I wiggle but there is nothing I can do. More and more hands touch me, feeling me, pinching and caressing my skin. Someone slaps my ass sharply and there are ripples of laughter.

Finally the crowd moves on. There is other merchandise to examine. I am left alone for a while, though eventually people visit me, but it is only one or two at a time, or a small group. Though I dread what is to come I wish it was time. I do not like being put on display, blind and deaf, not even able to see my tormentors.

Then I faintly hear the bell. It is time. The auction is beginning. I hear shouts and cheers and soon the sound of leather striking flesh. It goes on for a long time. Someone paid dearly for that. There is a pause and then more cheers and shouts. This time they last longer, but finally I hear the sound of the cane. The cracks are tremendous, even through my ear plugs, and I tremble in fear. Soon it will be my turn. At least I did not choose the cane.

Someone approaches and unties me. I stand shakily, nervous, and I hear the crowd cheering as I am led on the stage. I can feel thousands of pairs of eyes watching me. My face is deeply flushed. The auctioneer shouts out and I can’t quite make it out but I know he is asking for bids.

I am roughly grabbed and turned so the audience can see my buttocks. I am bent over slightly and I feel a hand caress my bottom and pinch and slap my cheeks. The crowd roars its pleasure though I cannot hear how high the bidding has reached. It frightens me. With this mad crowd I will surely be in for the beating of my life.

There is another roar and I assume the auctioneer is holding up the dreadful paddle I will be punished with. I remember it well. It is very large, perhaps two feet long and a foot wide, made of oak and covered with black leather. There are nine dime-size holes strategically placed across the surface to allow for airflow. The paddle isn’t that thick–perhaps a quarter-inch–but it is so large is hurts like the devil and every blow covers even my rather generous ass.

How could my master have sentenced me to such punishment? Wouldn’t he prefer to punish me himself? But I know he is out there, watching, perhaps encouraging the bidding. My heart leaps–perhaps he will win the
bid for me himself!

But the noise of the crowd is fading, and as I am pulled toward the punishment horse and chained and know that someone has won the bid. My arms are bound over my head, pulling me forward, and I am bent over the
horse slightly, my legs fastened wide.

Then I feel the paddle pressing against me. I do not know who has purchased my punishment but I can already tell he is very comfortable holding that paddle. My bottom is left bare for a moment and then I feel the tremendous smack! The pain is fantastic. My whole ass is on fire.

Before I can breath there’s another smack and then anther. The pain increases. Tears pour down my face under my blindfold and my body shakes with fear and emotion. I wiggle my ass like a dancer as the paddle smacks me again and again. My moans are loud even through my gag and I am faintly aware of the crowd cheering but I do not care anymore. I only want the pain to stop.

The paddle spanks me without pausing. It is raw, continous pain. I sob and tremble and flail frantically in my bonds but they hold me securely. I have lost count of the blows but I know we must be over thirty. Surely I couldn’t be expected to take much more than that!

I remember one terrible beating my master gave me once with a paddle. He spanked me fifty times and I thought it was the most painful thing I had ever endured. It was nothing compared to this. Here I was exposed in my pain. Here I was naked in a room of hundreds of screaming maniacs who lusted over my reddening ass and thrived on my pain. Here my tears did not soften their hearts but excited them even more and I could ocasionally make out shouts encouraging my punisher to spank me harder.

The blows have slowed now, perhaps to one every four or five seconds, but they do not stop or seem like they ever will. Every blow jars my whole body and sends waves of stinging thoughout my body. My sex is dripping and my ass feels so hot I am positive it has to be blistered. I can feel thick welts rising on my skin and I become frightened when the paddling doesn’t stop.

My punisher is very good, I must give him credit for that. He spanks my bottom all over, from top to bottom and even the sides. Now he concentrates on the lower portion, especially near the insides of mythighs where the skin is so tender I can not help screaming, though no one can hear me through my gag.

Still the paddle smacks me. It strikes my thighs now, leaving my buttocks glowing and hot and throbbing. I am almost drained of tears and energy. I am exhausted with the struggle. Finally I give in, just dangling from my bonds, the paddle returning to slowly spank my sore bottom. The crowd is chanting, so I assume it’s the last few strokes and my agony is close to an end.

There is a long pause before the last blow and it’s a terrible one, so hard my whole body is thrust into the punishment horse and I cannot stop howling. The pain floods through my body and I am shaking all over.

But it is done. The punishment is over. I am dragged from the stage and find myself being massaged with a cool washcloth. The effect is so soothing I cry out as they remove my gag and blindfold. A pretty blond girl steps away from me, the cloth in her hand, a frightened, uncertain look on her face.

“No! Please continue,” I beg. “It feel so wonderful it hurts!”

She is young. I can see she doesn’t understand me at all. How could something wonderful hurt and something painful feel good? She is young. She has much to learn about life. But she is obedient and though hesitant and shy, returns to bath my blistered body. I think I adore her.