Ill Wind


























This pretty young woman has come to gloat over my misfortune in the stocks. She crouches down so that her face is up-close and personal to mine, but her expression is one of contempt for me and I can tell from her bad breath that she wishes me nothing but ill-intent. She hasn’t even bothered to brush her teeth for me.

She begins by gleefully reminding me that in just a few hours’ time I am going to be publicly whipped. She asks me how I feel about that? Am I quaking with fear and dread at the prospect, or am I just looking forward to getting it over with? How do I think I will cope with the pain and humiliation? Will I bear my flogging with as much fortitude as a weak and feeble slave like me can possibly muster, or will I crumble and scream and beg for sweet feminine mercy? She emphasises that she herself, of course, has never, and will never, know the burning, biting sting of the whip on her back, but she has heard tell that the pain is completely unbearable, and that no human being, let alone a slave, could possibly endure it without crying out and begging for mercy.

She then mock-apologises to me for not being able to stay and enjoy my whipping, but explains that she has better things to do with her time. However, she goes on to remind me that someone is sure to upload the footage of my public flogging onto the internet, so she can always watch my pain and suffering at her leisure!

Throughout the bright, young woman’s cleverly cruel monologue towards me, filled with derisively rhetorical questions, I endeavour to focus on her plain grey anklesock on her right foot, which is creased around her shapely, feminine anklebone thanks to her crouching position in front of me. I do so because I am not fit to look her in the pretty face, being a lowly prisoner-slave about to undergo the whip, and looking her in the sock keeps me suitably humbled. Her bad breath, I’m afraid, is an ill wind that blows me no good, and as she mercilessly teases and taunts me I start to quietly sob as I am already an utterly broken man – even beforethe whip graces my back!

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