By Louetta

Yummy whipping, naked in the woods, great stuff, wouldn't have
missed it. Lots of nice boys.


Today I give my body to those around me to do with as they wish.
Stripped naked, without a trace of modesty, bound tightly to a
tree, suntanned body glowing in the morning sun. A captive,
helpless, trembling, erotic, tempting, tender. Here is the tree
to which I'll be bound. The air is cold but I am not.

My own inner engine warms me as the erotic effects of
surrendering my body overcome the embarrassment of being forced
to strip naked in the woods. First shoes, then socks, then jeans,
then shirt, then bra, then the soft white panties that hide my
tender pink sex from the world. Then bound. Bound naked to a tree
deep in the woods on a cold September morning.

Bound naked, hands behind the tree, above my head, wrists tied
tightly together, pale white breasts glowing softly in the
morning sun, offered to the hands that will lovingly caress them.
Ankles bound to the sides of the tree, legs spread just enough.
Just enough to offer a clear path to the moist pink lips of my
sex, just enough to allow a gentle stroking, a gentle spreading,
the sudden, electric touch of a finger tip, the quiver and moan
that accompanies the entry of fingers into the warm and moist
tunnel that makes me a girl.

"Strip!" I'm told. "All the way."

And strip I will. Slowly. They want me naked, they shall have me
naked but they will wait for it. A morning surrendering your body
tied to a tree requires more than a one minute strip tease. My
shoes first, then my socks. I build a neat little pile next to
the tree to which I will soon be bound. Now my jeans. I struggle
a little with the buttons as eager eyes await the first glimpse
of my thin brown legs. Summer has just ended and except for my
lily white ass and smooth white breasts my body is brown as the
bark on the trees. 

Carefully I remove my jeans, first one leg then the other and
demurely add them to the pile. My legs are long and thin, ten
thousand meters a week in the pool has given me a body more like
a teenage boy but what I lack in tits and ass I make up for in
legs. A pause. I look at them and they look at me. They like what
they see. Now my shirt. Slowly unbuttoned, from the top. Slowly
opened in the front, slowly off my shoulders and down my arms and
it takes its place in the pile. Now naked except for my
perfunctory little bra and panties.

The sun feels good on my long brown body. I feel my breathing
quicken slightly as facing them I put my hands up behind my neck
and slowly fluff my hair. My hair is fine but I want them to have
a good look. At five foot ten I look nakeder in my underwear than
other girls do. Long legs and a long body give you maximum girl
and minimum underwear. Now my bra. Slowly I drop the straps over
my shoulders.

I look at them and they look at me. The ache in my loins makes me
wonder who wants me to get naked faster, them or me. Slowly I
reach around for the clasp that holds my bra. Alone, I would
simply spin the flimsy garment around and unhook it in front but
today I do it from behind, elbows high, tits thrust out. I have
to make the most of what I have. First one clasp then the other
then slowly I bring my hands around to my sides and finally they
meet in front of me. I look at them, they look at me and I drop
my hands to bare my tits, white as snow, soft as silk, pink
nipples pouting, about the same size as my little sister's.

Now bare assed except for my little cotton panties I casually put
the bra on the pile. More hair fluffing. My nipples are so hard
they hurt. Now my underpants. This I can't stretch out. Once
they're down the first six inches no one will care about the
rest. They will have what they want. My taut white ass, the
silken ramp of my pubic hair, the moist pink lips of my pussy.
Fingers in the elastic at either side I slowly ease them down,
down in back, ass is bare, down in front, hair exposed, daylight
between my thighs, the sun peaks at the pink lips of my cunt. In
an instant the panties are at my ankles, I step out, they join
the pile. Naked as a jaybird. Naked in the morning sun.

Hungry eyes upon me, devour me. Now hands behind my head once
more I display myself proudly like a Roman whore. They look at
me, I look at them. They like what they see. All brown hair and
boobs and flat tummy above sleek brown hair, long thin legs, taut
little rear. I rejoice in the power of my own naked body. I enjoy
being a girl. Naked. In the woods. In early September. With the
warm sun shining.


With one of my captors on either side I am placed back against
the tree. Time to be bound. Stark naked. I can feel my breath
quicken. Soon I'll be helpless, feel the roughness of the ropes
against my skin, the tightness in my stomach that is the fear I
always feel when I'm bound, the fear that feeds the fire building
in my body, the fear that's fanned when first I feel the whip,
that fans the fire that burns in my loins, that burns hotter with
each cruel stroke of the lash til finally with the wanton
thrusting of my hips nature takes over and my whole body explodes
in the mind blowing display of fireworks that is orgasm.

I can't wait to be tied. Hands over my head my captors pull them
behind me, behind the thin white oak so I can be bound. Wrists
crossed in back of the tree in back of my head they are bound
together tightly, very tightly with a six foot strand of the
dreaded rawhide. Over and under, down and thru. Then tied off.
Now there is no turning back. There will be no escape today.

Thus bound I have an audience in front of me. Now I know the true
meaning of what it is to be naked. Hands behind me, above my
head, bound to the tree, my brown and white body offered.
Defenseless, vulnerable, ready for the taking. Now my ankles and
we're through. Roughly they pull my feet around to either side of
the tree. Roughly they bind then and now I am truly helpless.
Truly a prisoner. Truly a captive. They stand in front of me and
stare. And the more they stare the more my moist pink pussy
burns.

For a few minutes they leave me there naked and alone. Cigarettes
are smoked. Beers are opened.  I become more aware of my body.
The single strand of rawhide used to tie my hands cuts into the
skin against the bones of my wrists. The tree bark scratches my
behind as I test whether I can escape. When I am whipped this
will get worse. Already my wrists are getting red and raw. But
this will pale beside the pain the wet rawhide whip will soon
inflict on my naked body. With my underarms exposed I can feel
the dampness there and smell the faint smell of sweat.

Fear. Fear at what is going to be done to me. Fear of the awful
pain the wet cord will inflict on my tender flesh. Terrified
really. How bad will it be? How long will it last? How hard will
they whip me? Will they rape me? Before? After? While I'm tied to
the tree or later on the cold hard ground? And further down I
feel the wetness between my legs. My body is preparing for sex as
well as pain. For the exquisite pleasure that my body will
provide me in just a very few minutes. I can smell the familiar
musky odor of my cunt.

I can feel my heart beat slightly inside my chest. My long brown
hair partially covers my boobs, a situation they will remedy
before they whip me. I feel a slight quiver in my thighs and my
ass. I dream of the coldness of the whip upon my body and the
warmth inside my cunt. They are practiced with the whip and I
look forward to the cruelest torture of all, as the wet rawhide
lash takes me to the brink and brings me back, skillfully, again
and again. No cumming for the captive.

So the fire burns on inside of me. But I will fool them. The bite
of the whip will set me free. I try but no matter how I struggle
the rope won't budge. But I close my eyes and concentrate on the
magic feelings deep in my body. Lost in the joy they give me.
Loving the soft breeze on my naked body, the bite of the chill
air, the slight heaving of my chest, the quickening of my pulse,
the hint of sweat across my forehead, under my arms, beneath my
boobs, in the soft crease of my tummy, between my legs.

The erotic appeal of my forced stripping, being bound naked,
overpowers my fear of the whip on my body. I look forward to the
lash, waiting, waiting, waiting for the pain to start, terrified,
trembling, shivering in the cold, shaking gently with the fear,
the fear of what is to come. Struggling, struggling against my
ropes, feeling them cut into my soft white skin, as the whip will
soon cut into my soft white breasts.  The waiting is agonizing,
the fear, the anticipation, the pain that awaits me. The
embarrassment of being naked before strangers mixed with the
pleasure of enjoying my own body. Feeling the wonder of what it
is to have breasts, to have a cunt, to have an ass, to be a girl.
To offer it to my torturers to and revel in what my body gives
back to me.

Finally the waiting is over. Finally, they gather in front of me
and I am about to be whipped. The anticipating is done and the
reality is here. And nothing quite equals the reality. Nothing
quite equals the thrill of the whistle of the whip through the
air, the crack of the blow against the skin, the pain as the thin
strip of rawhide cuts cruelly into my soft flesh, the shock of
the blow, the leap of my body against its bonds, the writhing
with the pain, the searing pain which spreads from the site of
the fine red welt and registers throughout my whole helpless
body, the cry that escapes my lips, the silent plea for mercy.

Then, after a few seconds, the pain recedes, slowly, partly, not
entirely. Your breathing quiets some, you hang lightly from your
bonds. And then you hear the whistle again. The familiar sound of
the whip moving through the air. Toward your body. And it starts
all over again. And again. And again. It continues. And you learn
what it feels like to be whipped. Really whipped. Over and over
and over again. Starting with my breasts. My small, firm, eager
round breasts. My breasts, soft, white, bared to the morning sun
and wind. Bared to the cruelty of the whip.

And after what seems like an eternity they are done savaging my
breasts and they move down my stomach, the long brown expanse of
my stomach, firm, harder than my tits, stronger. Then down over
my hips. Painful strikes against my hip bones, the tale of the
whip sneaking around to tattoo my bare ass. Then down my thighs,
my honey brown thighs, down to my knees. And then he moves. To
this point he has stood beside me, first one side then the other.

Now he moves in front and I know what is coming. With the last
two feet of the lash he takes aim with a vertical stroke. He aims
for, and hits, the thin ramp of hair between my legs that stands
guard over the delicate lips of my pussy. One stroke, two, three.
He strikes down. And now he aims up. Up. Up between my thighs.
Aiming for that narrow space between my thin brown thighs, the
narrow space that leads to the pinkness of the moist lips of my
cunt. Over and over he targets and hits the narrow tender target
of my cunt.

And I hear it, I hear the call of my body, my naked body,
writhing in pain, I hear the call, I feel the warmth in my
breasts, the hardness of my nipples, the heat in my loins, the
moisture in my pussy, the slight quivering of my ass, the ache
inside that can only be cured by cumming, cumming, suddenly,
violently, over and over again, while my sex steals control of my
body and takes my mind away to a place only orgasm can take me.

And I experience the ecstasy of being whipped, whipped til you
cry, whipped til your whole body aches, whipped til the fire
rises in your loins and finally when all seems lost explodes
through your body in a mind shattering release of energy and you
cum once and once again and again and again and, if you're lucky,
all the while the whip rains down on your naked body as your hips
buck wildly and you breasts quiver helplessly and finally, your
orgasm spent, you collapse in a heap of joy. Hanging helplessly
from the ropes that still bind you naked to the tree on which at
first you suffered and later experienced the ultimate pleasure.
Joy in the woods on a chilly September morning. Joy amidst the
torment that is a whipping.

Joy in the pleasure that only a girl's body can provide.


louetta_keene@yahoo.com
