My first flogging SeXStoRY

 Flogged for the first time As a young man of 18 years in the late 1950's I was chatting in the office with a male colleague , I mentioned how much the flogging scene in the film Mutiny on the Bounty had excited and really turned me on, he smiled and said “Oh really” A little later he asked if I would like to experience it , he would arrange it for me, I was to arrive at the office the following Saturday wearing slacks and casual shirt. As I went back to my digs I was full of trepidation and excitement , it was nearly impossible to sl**p that night wondering what it would be like , would I be a wimp and cry or beg for it to stop. I arrived early and found him putting light ropes over the metal latticework of the ceiling , 2 other ropes were wrapped around the base of seed sacks , he ordered me to strip to the waist and stand under the hanging ropes with arms raised , each wrist was then bound and the ropes pulled up and secured , not quite on tiptoe ; my legs then spread apart and tied to the sacks. Now I shivered feeling totally helpless and at his mercy. From under other sacks he produced a rough sisal rope whip of some 15 strands each about 1/8th inch thick some 11/2 ft long ,stretching it between each hand he dragged it across my nipples and chest ; whilst in a soft voice asking if I was sure I wanted him to proceed ; which it being my first time was to be 50 lashes , however if I proved to be receptive he would extend this to 100 strokes. He stated the first strokes would be on the gentle side gradually increasing in power and laid on from neck to waist with some even curling around to my chest. Should I cry out or beg him to stop I must suffer until all 50 lashes had been delivered and then if I’d agree to the additional 50 the same condition would apply. So I nodded my head the signal for him to start ; if this first lash was gentle I dreaded to think what later ones would be like , my whole body jerked under the rough rope as it landed across my shoulders as he worked his way down my back , each stroke getting harsher but I seemed to relish each one ; so much pain and pleasure combined. He stopped once or twice to enquire if I was OK and stroke my back as I had started to whimper ; at lash 40 he announced the lashes would now get a lot harder as he really wanted to test me ; he was impressed with my resolve so far and being very brave although each next stroke had me twisting and cursing him until finally it ended. Hanging there limp nearly exhausted I barely heard him ask if I wanted/or was prepared/or even allow him to continue ; for a few moments I didn’t know what to say , each lash had been agony but at the same time a tremendous feeling of pleasure had gone through me ; as once more he said how wonderful my back looked with its marks and how I’d jumped under the lash I agreed for him to continue . After a short rest, the next session started ,this was agony and I was soon whimpering again but he continued to encourage me saying it would not be long now , that I looked really wonderful jumping under the lash , I could cry out as much as I liked , nearing 30 odd lashes subsequent strokes were to curl around to my chest and nipples , each of these felt as though they were searing into my flesh ; in comparison the last lashes to the back were relatively easy to endure. He was full of praise for me as I was let down from the bounds ; more sessions would be arranged if I so wished and these could take various forms ; as I travelled home on the bus I could think of nothing else as I leant back into my seat my whole back tingling ;by the time I was halfway home I’d told myself I WANT more of this. During the next week when we were able to talk on our own he asked that I show him my back ; he was pleased to see that after 5 days there were still visible marks ; did I want further sessions , yes ; but nothing could be arranged for some weeks , so it was 5 weeks later that I found myself hung in the warehouse ready for the lash. Next sessions to follow !!