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The Girl With No Name

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Yes, when I was working on this bit, I was thinking
I'm quite keen on botany myself, why haven't I ever thought of this fantasy? :devil:
It's so delicious. I think Elf-bride might have got the idea from vine decoration on early Christian crosses,
with symbolic implications - the Tree of Life, the Eucharist, etc.

Ruthwell cross.jpg​
 
Eulalia said:
For days, I ordered this brilliant dream to go through my mind and fantasised it through again and again. It was nice to imagine being crucified naked while moving plants were groping my breasts, sucking on my nipples and in the furrow between my legs, where more vines invaded and conquered there, pressing and sucking. I found it very sad that there no such plants existed, I would have volunteered every day for feeding such plants.
Click to expand...

Mmm, fascinating, different, erotic.
An extension of the idea that the crucified woman becomes one with her cross, wood and flesh permanently bonding. Now it is a living, moving connection, intimate and arousing.

Makes me think of Marvell:
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow
 
There are no such plants unfortunately. But the cross, that exists, it's real and now it was teaching me humility. As high as I floated above it all, so deep the cross would push me down. The pain was beginning, gradually came the familiar feelings, I could almost predict where and when each muscle would hurt the most, when the shoulders would experience particularly angry pain, when my knees would start to tremble with weakness.

Pain had become my good friend, I didn’t fear him any more, I accepted him, he’d become my secret pal, I confided in him while I endured the agony, knowing it would eventually be over. Of course, I danced on the cross, I could not stop myself, my body writhed slowly on the wood, always striving to avoid Pain. But he wouldn’t be shaken off. Little pains crawled out from one point to another until eventually big Pain was sitting everywhere. When I controlled myself, I could see Pain sliding a little, back and forth, but I couldn’t escape from him.

There is no escape, Lisette. The idea is simply absurd, there’s no escape for you, Lisette. Fight all you want! Defend yourself against Pain, try to wrestle yourself off the cross, try to escape from the bondage of Pain, you won’t make it. You're a croux-girl, Lisette Lange, it’s your destiny to suffer on the cross - because you like it! Deep inside, you like it. And how!

Quietly, I admit it. Yes, I thought, I like it, it pleases me, I writhe in agony and it makes me feel good. I was stunned, but that was the simple truth. I’d always dreamed of enduring this, always, ever since I’d reached come puberty. It was more than the desire to let myself be tied up. Restraints could be gentle or solid. You could experience, for example, restriction of movement, imprisonment, captivity, helplessness. But the cross was more, much more. Giving myself to the cross, voluntarily going to the cross and spending a set time on the wood was so much more. It meant enduring physical pain, and at the same time, loving it. It hurt, but it hurt so very well, I liked it. Yes, it’s what I was made for! I was always excited, it was an incredible feeling, quite fantastic. While my body slowly danced on the cross, while I hung on my bonds and on the cross-bar, while my naked body was plated with a thin film of sweat, I felt excitement.

My pussy was tingling like mad, I was warm down there. I began to squeeze my legs together and tense the muscles in my pelvic floor. Now the dance was causing an incredible pairing of pain and pleasure in my womb, I was moaning with excitement as much as in agony, I squirmed in both pleasure and pain. I took a deep breath. Again and again I pulled myself up, I pressed with my feet on the angled platform, I turned and stretched my naked body to all sides, right and left, backwards and forwards and back again, as far as the Cross allowed me. I felt the smooth wood on my back, on my bare bottom. My range of movement was small. The more violently I fought against the bondage the more fun it was. I was throwing all of myself into it, giving it everything. I gasped, I groaned, I squirmed. I was excited. At that moment I had no wish whatever to be freed, on the contrary, I wanted to stay on the cross a long, long time, very long. Oh, how good it felt, bearing the unbearable! I let myself fall forward and sink down on my bondage. I was enduring it, I was enduring it, in
my pussy a wonderful warm fire was burning, small tongues of flame were licking my lustful wet flesh. I pressed and pressed eagerly. Oh! Ooh, Goddess, I'm… I thought incredulously, I'm cumming! That can’t happen yet! I’ve cummmmmmmmmmmmmmm ....!
 
thanks for those comments guys, blush-making for a slavegirl :oops: :)

With a little cry I tensed every muscle, pulling up on my bondage. My body was dancing a new dance I couldn’t control. My muscle contractions were obvious, I felt as if a small balloon were inflating in me, it pressed me, I couldn't control it. I was squirming and twitching, letting out involuntary sounds, sighs, small yelps, breathless cries of joy. All of a sudden my legs were completely weightless that’s how they felt as I straightened them and tugged on the ropes. I swung forward, I pulled up, the pleasurable spasm went on and on without end, it just wouldn’t stop. I was squirming like mad, but in a moment of relative clarity I caught sight of my cousin, she was standing below me in front of the cross, staring at me in disbelief, her eyes wide.

I was out of it, I was dancing for joy, singing for joy, carried away with pleasure. Oblivious to the pains in my arms and shoulders and whole body, I just felt myself overflowing with a desire as powerful as I’d ever felt. I went back to rubbing my legs together, while still twisting and squirming. I was sweating and I singing.

It ceased only slowly. The contractions in my womb, which had spread through my genitals, slowly subsided. My pussy was still twitching, I could feel it acutely. My legs were still lightweight, without the tight bondage on my ankles they would lifted out. I squirmed a few more times and tugged at the bonds, then I sank down with a long, shuddering sigh on the ropes. I almost started to cry.

When it was over, the pains came back. They’d been there all along, hidden beneath the desire and ever-increasing excitement. Now they were strong again. Desire had to submit to humiliation. I hung on the cross and gave an incredulous chuckle, I was completely stunned. So was my cousin down on the floor below me. "Lisette," she said, in a voice of utter disbelief, "My God, Lisette, you’ve .... Tell me, have you just ....?" She shook her head, giggled uncertainly, "That's impossible! You just got…!" "Yes," I said. "Yes." More I couldn’t say.

I calmed down only slowly. As I calmed, Pain came back to me. He crawled into my muscles, ran around under my skin, burned in my tight-knotted wrists and ankles. He was torturing me, but that didn’t bother me. I didn’t know how long I’d been on the cross. It hurt, but I endured it. Actually, I didn't feel any different from my last crucifixion, which had lasted one hour. Now it was one and a half hours. No difference. It had started easily and felt great. Tied, crucified, hung naked on the cross. Then the gradual build-up of strain and pain in my joints,which began to complain. Then beginning to dance on the cross to try to escape the pain. The crisis - squirming with it, moaning, panting, sweating, wild dancing on my bonds. Then the plateau phase, when I accepted the pain and let myself submit to it - and I’d endured it all, endured it without complaint!

Did this mean perhaps that I could be hung on the cross forever if once I'd achieved a certain level? What a thought! Or would new crises come? How long would it take before I’d experience a second crisis? Would it be worse than the first? Absolutely! I must go there! I want that! I want to experience the ultimate! It’s so hot, I can’t believe it! Everything hurts and I'm feeling superb! This is unbelievable! Oh, how I love it!

When Dorothea picked up the chain and let the cross down, I felt more regret than relief.
 
I am enjoying the story, Eul. As you said, there are no plants that will climb and twist up your naked body. But there are snakes. They will climb up both your long legs, seeking that scent they are attracted to. And after that they will proceed up your body, caressing your breasts and circling your neck before slithering up your arms. No not plants, something much better.
 
this bit's for cx ;)

13 Beating between the legs

Only when I was untied did I feel what I’d been through. My arms and shoulders were stiff. I had to move carefully until they worked again. Amazed, I stood beside the cross lying on the floor, looking at the wooden structure that had held me captive for one and a half hours. It was enough to think about what I had experienced, to let me get aroused. I had accepted the captivity of wood and ropes, and in a way it had liberated me, simply blown me away. Orgasm on the cross was stunning, the ropes that held me had prolonged my sensual spasms to a small eternity. I was so happy, I was also impressed at how easily I’d endured it. I felt proud of what I had come through, as well as wondering a little – I’d never thought I’d hold out so easily. Of course, the huge excitement had shortened the time, on my way to orgasm I’d completely forgotten the time, and the pain, though I still felt it distinctly under the excitement, had been warmly welcomed to me. But I won’t always cum on the cross, how would it feel then? Well .... my body was going to learn that in the afternoon.

Dorothea came up behind me, she put her arms around me. "How was it?" she asked, "Could you stand it?" "Yes, I had to," I replied, smiling to myself. Yes, compulsion, being held by force, is part of it, it’s the icing on the cake. "It hurt, but it was especially nice, I felt strong." "How does it feel for you, stripping naked for me to tie you?" My cousin’s hand slipped down my abdomen and between my legs, immediately I moved my legs a little way apart to give her access. "It's quite simple," I explained, "I take my clothes off. Done. It feels no different to taking them off for a shower." Dorothea's fingers stroked gently, oh sweet fire in my pussy! "Is that it?" she asked, "You simply take them off because you don’t wear a tennis dress or shorts and a blouse on the cross?" Her fingers were stroking, they were arousing me, I welcomed them down there. "It's erotic," I admitted. "Being naked is very exciting." "It turns you on?" Doro wanted to know. I nodded. “To be fully exposed feels good, you can feel everything so intensely, even shame. Sometimes I imagine that people are in the shop looking at me." I blushed.

"You feel strong?" asked Dorothy. "Yes," I replied. "It's unbelievable. I seem to be getting used to crucifixion. it really is a kind of training that I’m undergoing." "Of course it is," said my cousin, stroking and rubbing gently between my legs. I had to suppress a sigh. "You’re training your body and your mind for ever higher performance. It's like cycle training. That guy Hiasl [1] was given a pair of wheels in March - you know him? " "Hiasl? Is he the blonde bloke from the back alley?" "No, that’s Mattie, Hiasl lives in the main street, the old house next to the church." "Oh, that one! The one with the glasses and his rabbit." "That’s it, breeds rabbits and reads books all day. So he’s started bike training. Before, he just had an old bike that he sometimes rode to swimming or to the next village to see his grandmother, nothing else. With the new bike he’s been training properly. He's not ridden for two years, he told me. The first day he barely managed 10 to 15 kilometers, his legs had got so weak. He said he was delighted with every red light and every intersection where he had to make a stop. But in the second week he was already doing 20 to 35 km, and in the third he managed 50 km. From thereon, it quickly picked up. He told how great it felt, as if his legs were "hard", and he finally made 100 km without difficulty."

Dorothea stroked me further between my pussy-lips. "You’re doing exactly the same, Lisette, you’re training. You’re making enormous progress from day to day. Who knows how long you’ll be able to endure in the end. It will always hurt, but you'll get used to it and stand it better and better. In addition ...." she pressed firmly on my clit, I shuddered, couldn’t suppress a groan, "....you love pain, Lisette. You’ve got to admit it, it’s a fact, it turns you on if it hurts. You’ve just been dreaming about it for quite a long time. The way you look up there on the cross! Totally blissful. I'm really jealous of you, Lisette."


[1] Hiasl is a Bavarian/ Austrian form of Hiesel, a pet-form of Matthias. As the name of a character in folklore, it can mean a clumsy fellow.
 
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Eulalia said:
this bit's for cx ;)

13 Beating between the legs

Only when I was untied did I feel what I’d been through. My arms and shoulders were stiff. I had to move carefully until they worked again. Amazed, I stood beside the cross lying on the floor, looking at the wooden structure that had held me captive for one and a half hours. It was enough to think about what I had experienced, to let me get aroused. I had accepted the captivity of wood and ropes, and in a way it had liberated me, simply blown me away. Orgasm on the cross was stunning, the ropes that held me had prolonged my sensual spasms to a small eternity. I was so happy, I was also impressed at how easily I’d endured it. I felt proud of what I had come through, as well as wondering a little – I’d never thought I’d hold out so easily. Of course, the huge excitement had shortened the time, on my way to orgasm I’d completely forgotten the time, and the pain, though I still felt it distinctly under the excitement, had been warmly welcomed to me. But I won’t always cum on the cross, how would it feel then? Well .... my body was going to learn that in the afternoon.

Dorothea came up behind me, she put her arms around me. "How was it?" she asked, "Could you stand it?" "Yes, I had to," I replied, smiling to myself. Yes, compulsion, being held by force, is part of it, it’s the icing on the cake. "It hurt, but it was especially nice, I felt strong." "How does it feel for you, stripping naked for me to tie you?" My cousin’s hand slipped down my abdomen and between my legs, immediately I moved my legs a little way apart to give her access. "It's quite simple," I explained, "I take my clothes off. Done. It feels no different to taking them off for a shower." Dorothea's fingers stroked gently, oh sweet fire in my pussy! "Is that it?" she asked, "You simply take them off because you don’t wear a tennis dress or shorts and a blouse on the cross?" Her fingers were stroking, they were arousing me, I welcomed them down there. "It's erotic," I admitted. "Being naked is very exciting." "It turns you on?" Doro wanted to know. I nodded. “To be fully exposed feels good, you can feel everything so intensely, even shame. Sometimes I imagine that people are in the shop looking at me." I blushed.

"You feel strong?" asked Dorothy. "Yes," I replied. "It's unbelievable. I seem to be getting used to crucifixion. it really is a kind of training that I’m undergoing." "Of course it is," said my cousin, stroking and rubbing gently between my legs. I had to suppress a sigh. "You’re training your body and your mind for ever higher performance. It's like cycle training. That guy Hiasl [1] was given a pair of wheels in March - you know him? " "Hiasl? Is he the blonde bloke from the back alley?" "No, that’s Mattie, Hiasl lives in the main street, the old house next to the church." "Oh, that one! The one with the glasses and his rabbit." "That’s it, breeds rabbits and reads books all day. So he’s started bike training. Before, he just had an old bike that he sometimes rode to swimming or to the next village to see his grandmother, nothing else. With the new bike he’s been training properly. He's not ridden for two years, he told me. The first day he barely managed 10 to 15 kilometers, his legs had got so weak. He said he was delighted with every red light and every intersection where he had to make a stop. But in the second week he was already doing 20 to 35 km, and in the third he managed 50 km. From thereon, it quickly picked up. He told how great it felt, as if his legs were "hard", and he finally made 100 km without difficulty."

Dorothea stroked me further between my pussy-lips. "You’re doing exactly the same, Lisette, you’re training. You’re making enormous progress from day to day. Who knows how long you’ll be able to endure in the end. It will always hurt, but you'll get used to it and stand it better and better. In addition ...." she pressed firmly on my clit, I shuddered, couldn’t suppress a groan, "....you love pain, Lisette. You’ve got to admit it, it’s a fact, it turns you on if it hurts. You’ve just been dreaming about it for quite a long time. The way you look up there on the cross! Totally blissful. I'm really jealous of you, Lisette."


[1] Hiasl is a Bavarian/ Austrian form of Hiesel, a pet-form of Matthias. As the name of a character in folklore, it can mean a clumsy fellow.
Click to expand...
ooohh that was fantastic Eul!! I really enjoyed that part!:very_hot:
 
She took her hand away: "But I must tie you up and spank you now." I swallowed, yes, that’s what I wanted. She went over to the gym-bar, searched on the floor below it. "Here it is, yes," she cried, bending down. "Totally filthy. Hmm ...." She ran to a corner of the workshop and dragged out a hefty red device on small wheels. A bomb-shaped metal cylinder lay along the axis, and there was something mounted on top that looked like a moped engine. Dorothea pulled a power cord from the strange machine and plugged it into an electric socket. The device woke up to clamorous life, it sounded like a bad-tempered jackhammer, I covered my ears. "It’s a compressor," Doro shouted above the din. She grabbed a tube at the end of which was a nozzle like a gun. Using this, she shot into a depression in the floor, dirt and dust flew out. Finally she turned off the hideous howling thing and inspected the socket in the floor. "That’s nice and clean." The hole was a screw-thread in a metal plate which was embedded in the floor. She darted to the workbench and rummaged through the drawers, she returned with a thick iron ring. The thing was a good five inches in diameter and on one side it had a threaded bolt. Doro now twisted it down into the hole. Aha! Something for anchorage!

"Done," my cousin announced with satisfaction, and beckoned me over. "Come here, Lisette. Lie with your back on the carpets under the beam. I'll get ropes..." I looked at the frame and the small iron ring below it, it dawned on me what it was for. I lay down obediently, stretched myself and waited. Dorothea dragged three cords across. She put them beside me on the mat and began work on the exercise beam. She pulled out the pins that secured the beam, right and left, lifted it out, and carried it off somewhere. Now there were only the two uprights of the frame above me.

She came back, looked at the arrangement of things. Resolutely, she grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me a little further under the frame, until my butt was right in line with of the uprights. She smiled at me kindly. "Right, now you’re going to get a surprise, Lisette!" She took a rope and twisted it around my left ankle, tied a tight knot, and pulled my leg out to the left upright. My feet didn’t reach it, she bridged the distance with the rope and fastened it onto the post. Playing with my other leg, she did exactly the same, so now here I was, with my legs spread wide apart under the gym-frame, stretched out, hanging by my right and left ankles, which she'd tied half a metre above the floor. I was stretched pretty tight. I liked that, I liked being in bondage - especially on my legs.

Now I had to stretch my the arms over my head and cross my wrists My cousin tied me by the wrists and, with the end of the rope, made me fast to the iron ring in the floor. As my hands didn’t reach the ring she had to bridge the distance with half a metre of rope. "Done," cried Dorothy, standing up. She looked at me closely. I lay naked under the frame, legs apart and arms stretched over my head and firmly bound. "You look nice, Lisette, beautifully wide open." I swallowed and tried to close my legs. Of course I couldn’t. Dorothea stood beside me, bent down and slapped her hand on my naked sex. "You’re shaved. That's fine, Lisette. That’ll make a nice slap." Slap? The rod had slapped on my bare soles .... Was she about to.... ? All of a sudden I was hot - very hot. My heartbeat quickened. She was going to….!
 
My cousin came back with a narrow leather belt. She let it swing by my right side and stepped across me, so she was standing over me, her feet either side of my head, looking towards my abdomen. I had clear view under her denim skirt and had a wee surprise, she wasn’t wearing anything under it. Look, little cousin! Look at me! I bit back a grin and waited for what was to come. She let the strap dangle between my legs, the smooth leather touching my skin. She twitched the thong, stroked me with it. The tip of the lash was tickling the insides of my thighs - a heavenly feeling! I arched my back and moaned softly. Even in my furrow, she was letting the tip fondle. It was a gentle preparation for what was to follow. It had to follow, it was clear to me. Dorothea had spoken of the "slapping". I expected it. I was a bit afraid, but mostly I wanted it.

She swung, she hit me with the belt between my legs, “slap!” as the leather strap hit my bare skin. I gasped. Another blow, the thong was slapping onto my pussy, it burned slightly and then turned into a deep throbbing. It was not unpleasant, it hurt, but only a bit. Doro started whipping more regularly, leaving longer pauses between the beats, let me savour each one. Sometimes they struck solidly and I let out a little scream. Gradually, she increased the pace and strength of the blows increased. I was participating in it. I arched my back and stretched and turned about in my bondage, forcing my legs to “do the splits” violently - I wanted to close my thighs, but of course I couldn’t.

Dorothea brought me to a certain level and held me there, the leather strap hit me rhythmically between the legs. It hurt, but it was so exciting, I found myself in a floating state between pleasure and pain, but my desire outweighed my sufferig significantly. My excitement increased with every stroke, it was incredible. I wish that it would stop, yet I longed for it to continue. I reared up, I squirmed in my bonds, I began to whimper. Again and again I the whiplash snatched small cries of pain. I felt totally helpless, I was beginning to sweat in my struggling and straining. Dorothea went on and on. She increased the pace and hit me harder. I took it gratefully. I couldn’t do otherwise, but I wanted it. Even though my body bitterly resisted and tried to escape the ropes, I fell into a state of constantly increasing arousal. In the pain I felt pleasure - and how! I whimpered, I groaned, I squirmed with excitement. Yes. Yeah !!! Hit me, Doro! Hit me! Whip me! Let me feel the strap, yes! Yeah!

It ceased. I was well on the way to cumming, so aroused by the blows. Panting, I pulled at my bonds. "Dorothea, go on," I pleaded. "Hit me! Please go on!" My cousin let the belt fall carelessly to the floor. She sat down next to me and smiled. "Doro," I whined. "Please don’t stop! Thrash me, please Doro, please go on!" I tugged at the ropes. "Doro!" She caressed my breasts. "You're excited," she said softly, "You’re high on wild whipping, little Lisette. Your pretty red hair is so sweaty!" "Dorothea, please go on", I begged. She grasped me in my crotch. "Your pussy liked what I was doing to it, it shows, it’s warm and thick," she smiled at me knowingly, "your vessels are filled with blood - you’re highly excited, Lisette." "Yes," I cried. "yes I am! Do please go on! Beat me, Dorothea! Give me more!"

She took her hand away, "No Lisette, I’m not going to do any more. It’s another part of your training, having to bear it when it stops in the middle, having to accept that I have total control over you. I can bring you to the best orgasm ever, yes I can even force you to have an orgasm. But I can also deny you them - more than once, Lisette" She stood up. "We’ve still got a lot of time. You can remain there, stretched out, then all the time you’ll be thinking about nothing else, just that you’re lying their with your legs spread wide apart under the frame and you can do nothing, nothing at all. To be a perfect victim. you have to accept it."

She went to her drawing table and picked up her brush. No Doro! No! Please don’t leave me lying here! I only thought it, I said nothing, there was no point in begging. I lay there, tied helpless under the high frame, and I could do nothing but endure it. My pussy was in flames, oh how I longed to touch myself down there, I’d have given anything for it. But it could not be. Dorothea was right, all I kept thinking about was that I was lying on the mat with my legs spread wide. This I did, over and over again, it was all I could do.
 
Eulalia said:
My cousin came back with a narrow leather belt. She let it swing by my right side and stepped across me, so she was standing over me, her feet either side of my head, looking towards my abdomen. I had clear view under her denim skirt and had a wee surprise, she wasn’t wearing anything under it. Look, little cousin! Look at me! I bit back a grin and waited for what was to come. She let the strap dangle between my legs, the smooth leather touching my skin. She twitched the thong, stroked me with it. The tip of the lash was tickling the insides of my thighs - a heavenly feeling! I arched my back and moaned softly. Even in my furrow, she was letting the tip fondle. It was a gentle preparation for what was to follow. It had to follow, it was clear to me. Dorothea had spoken of the "slapping". I expected it. I was a bit afraid, but mostly I wanted it.

She swung, she hit me with the belt between my legs, “slap!” as the leather strap hit my bare skin. I gasped. Another blow, the thong was slapping onto my pussy, it burned slightly and then turned into a deep throbbing. It was not unpleasant, it hurt, but only a bit. Doro started whipping more regularly, leaving longer pauses between the beats, let me savour each one. Sometimes they struck solidly and I let out a little scream. Gradually, she increased the pace and strength of the blows increased. I was participating in it. I arched my back and stretched and turned about in my bondage, forcing my legs to “do the splits” violently - I wanted to close my thighs, but of course I couldn’t.

Dorothea brought me to a certain level and held me there, the leather strap hit me rhythmically between the legs. It hurt, but it was so exciting, I found myself in a floating state between pleasure and pain, but my desire outweighed my sufferig significantly. My excitement increased with every stroke, it was incredible. I wish that it would stop, yet I longed for it to continue. I reared up, I squirmed in my bonds, I began to whimper. Again and again I the whiplash snatched small cries of pain. I felt totally helpless, I was beginning to sweat in my struggling and straining. Dorothea went on and on. She increased the pace and hit me harder. I took it gratefully. I couldn’t do otherwise, but I wanted it. Even though my body bitterly resisted and tried to escape the ropes, I fell into a state of constantly increasing arousal. In the pain I felt pleasure - and how! I whimpered, I groaned, I squirmed with excitement. Yes. Yeah !!! Hit me, Doro! Hit me! Whip me! Let me feel the strap, yes! Yeah!

It ceased. I was well on the way to cumming, so aroused by the blows. Panting, I pulled at my bonds. "Dorothea, go on," I pleaded. "Hit me! Please go on!" My cousin let the belt fall carelessly to the floor. She sat down next to me and smiled. "Doro," I whined. "Please don’t stop! Thrash me, please Doro, please go on!" I tugged at the ropes. "Doro!" She caressed my breasts. "You're excited," she said softly, "You’re high on wild whipping, little Lisette. Your pretty red hair is so sweaty!" "Dorothea, please go on", I begged. She grasped me in my crotch. "Your pussy liked what I was doing to it, it shows, it’s warm and thick," she smiled at me knowingly, "your vessels are filled with blood - you’re highly excited, Lisette." "Yes," I cried. "yes I am! Do please go on! Beat me, Dorothea! Give me more!"

She took her hand away, "No Lisette, I’m not going to do any more. It’s another part of your training, having to bear it when it stops in the middle, having to accept that I have total control over you. I can bring you to the best orgasm ever, yes I can even force you to have an orgasm. But I can also deny you them - more than once, Lisette" She stood up. "We’ve still got a lot of time. You can remain there, stretched out, then all the time you’ll be thinking about nothing else, just that you’re lying their with your legs spread wide apart under the frame and you can do nothing, nothing at all. To be a perfect victim. you have to accept it."

She went to her drawing table and picked up her brush. No Doro! No! Please don’t leave me lying here! I only thought it, I said nothing, there was no point in begging. I lay there, tied helpless under the high frame, and I could do nothing but endure it. My pussy was in flames, oh how I longed to touch myself down there, I’d have given anything for it. But it could not be. Dorothea was right, all I kept thinking about was that I was lying on the mat with my legs spread wide. This I did, over and over again, it was all I could do.
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OH MY EUL, OH MY! :)
 
After a small eternity, my cousin put the brush to the side. She came back to me and smiled down, "Well? Do you want another round elow the belt?" I nodded. "Yes Dorothea, yes." Oh, I was so eager. She bent down and picked up the belt. I tensed in anticipation of the blows. This time she struck immediately and she was not squeamish. I cried out frequently and tensed up in shackles. Goddess, that hurt! This time it was much harder. But I found my rhythm quickly, I took the blows, gave myself up to them and fell into absolute ecstasy. The pain turned into pleasure and my moans changed in tone. I welcomed the belt as it rhythmically slapped me between my legs, I listened to the popping of the leather on my bare skin,I enjoyed my defenselessness. I had to accept it, whether I liked it or not. My excitement increased with every stroke. I surrendered to it, participated in it, loved it.

I, Lisette Lange, was being whipped by my own cousin. Whipped! I was naked. I was in bondage. I was the captive of my cousin, and she was whipping me! Again and again the leather belt slapped between my legs, meeting my sensitive flesh. I struggled in my bonds, tensed up, tried to close my legs. I gasped, I groaned, I whimpered, I let out small cries. I arched my back. I couldn’t lie still a single second, all the time I was squirming under the leather strap that was slamming down between my legs, a metronome of pain and pleasure, a leather meter of my dedication and willingness to endure. I stuck it out, I endured it, I bore it gladly. Beat me all day, Doro ! I thought, hit me, whip me, flog me! Dorothea swung on. The blows were solid, they were harder now, clapping more clearly as the strap hit home between my legs. I fought it, screaming. I gritted my teeth. I was starting to sweat. Oh that hurt! Dorothea hit me even harder, but I still controlled myself.

She checked me, touching my fanny. The blows were too hard – pain, pain, pain, I was squirming under this pain. My willingness was no longer in question, had it ever been? Didn’t my free will end with the bondage that held my naked body in place? When I let myself be stretched open so violently, so that the leather strap could gain access to my sensitive spot, to my girl-parts?

Dorothea went on whipping me, in earnest – it was no longer a game. I groaned, squirmed, panted, shouted – just a yell, still partly suppressed. Dorothea wasn’t going to let me off, she wanted to break my resistance. I was struggling against it, knowing I was bound to lose the battle. She was the stronger, I was defenceless, I had to accept it, whether I liked it or not.

Another cry, another, and another. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I was crying because I was being whipped, tears came into my eyes, they overflowed and ran down my face, I started sobbing passionately. Again and again I cried as I felt the cruel strap between my legs. I’d lost the battle, the belt had defeated me. Yes, I thought, yes, I’ve lost – so be it, I’m defeated, poor little me, Lisette!
 
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