In spite of the relative lightness of the lash, he jerked upright as though he had received an electric shock. He had been more surprised than hurt, for he had temporarily forgotten about the whip. "No!" he exclaimed. "No, no!"
"Yes!" said the red-head, and struck him again in the same place. "But what are you complaining about? These are loving caresses."
"Damn you!" said the blonde. "Get your head down here again. Don't stop like that. I'll thrash you myself if you stop again. Get down here. Lie down over me." She pulled hard on his penis.
He rolled heavily over on to his side and straightened himself over her body. He wriggled himself downwards until his lips came again to her breasts. He opened his mouth and sucked a nipple on to his tongue.
The red-head changed her position and struck again with her whip. He gave a flinch but did not move his lips. He instinctively thrust his bound hands downwards as though to protect his buttocks. The next lash caught him across his knuckles. He quickly took his hands out of danger; the pain to them was worse than the pain to the muscles of his bottom.
The blonde was gasping again. She put her hands to his head and pushed. "Go down to my fanny. Lick my fanny."
He obeyed at once, receiving two more lashes before he was in position. He put his face to the silky blonde hairs of her mound. She opened her legs, lifted them over his shoulders, and then closed them tightly against his head. She took hold of his hair with both hands and pulled it, forcing his face closer to her vagina. She began to utter long moans of pleasure.
With his tongue he felt for the lips of her vagina. He licked them up and down lightly at first and then, as his passion mounted, roughly. He twisted his jaw against the pressure of her legs and took the lips in his teeth. She gave a little cry. He moved his head down a little, buried his nose between the lips and thrust his tongue into her passage.
The whip continued to lash across his buttocks. He found that the pain was not by any means unendurable. He would not have said it was pleasant, but it gave a stimulation to his passion. He wished his arms and legs were free. He would not now have run away. He would have used them to improve the efficiency of his love-making. It was a pity, for instance, that his fingers could not be playing with her nipples.
The red-head went on swinging her whip quite lightly, but she felt no interest, no excitement. She wanted to hit with all her strength. Then she would feel the savage uplift of delectability, the straining rapture of pure pleasure. She wished the blonde would hurry up. She tried not to look at the naked back of the man, with its weal across the shoulders from the hard lash she had given him before he undressed. She knew that she would not be able to control herself if she looked at it. Its expanse of unwhipped flesh would magnetise her too much. She would be forced to give at least one hard lash across its centre, and that would assuredly reduce his erection to immediate limpness. And that would mean that the blonde would take even longer to finish.
The man was beginning to feel a good deal of discomfort from a lack of sufficient air. The blonde's legs gripped his head ever more tightly as her excitement mounted. He tried to lift his head for a second, but found it firmly locked into its position. The blonde looked up at her friend. "I've forgotten a french-letter. Be a dear and get one for me, will you? I don't want a baby."
"Are you ready to have him?"
"Almost."
The red-head went to her ruck-sack and took out a small packet. She came back to the rug and tore off the silver paper. She put the rubber to her lips and blew gently. The teat filled up at once with air. "Yes," she said. "It's all right."
The blonde opened her legs. She sighed deeply. "That was very nice. Now turn over on your side for a moment."
He did as she said.
The red-head looped the whip round his neck again and knelt to put the letter on his now gigantic penis. She gave it a small slap with her palm.
"Wet it a little, please," said the blonde.
The red-head worked her tongue to gather some saliva, and then spat into her palm. She rubbed the moisture over the tip of the rubber. "Right," she said. "You're ready." She took the whip back into her hand.
"Hutch up, then," the blonde said to the man. "And make it very sweet for me or I'll make it very painful for you afterwards."
"Can't you untie me?" he said.
"No. I like the idea of your being like that. Come on, hutch yourself up." She opened her legs.
With some difficulty he moved himself jerkily into position over her. She took his penis in her hands and guided it to her vagina. His penis grew even larger under her touch. He felt it nose against the mouth of her passage. He pushed. She was tight. He pushed again.
The red-head raised her whip. "I'll help you," she said softly. She lashed again across the buttocks, but this time the lash was considerably harder.
He flinched violently with the pain, and cried out for the first time. His flinch drove his penis deep inside the blonde. She flung her arms around his neck and sank her nails into the flesh of his shoulder-blades. She gave a cry of pleasure.
He withdrew a little, preparing to make another natural thrust with his hip muscles. He buried his head into the leather of her jacket.
The red-head struck again, as hard as before.
His flinch made the thrust for him. He felt he had never before been so far inside a woman. He realized that his penis was fully engulfed.
Another hard lash showed him he was wrong. It went even further inside the passage. He left it where it was, waiting for the next lash. He felt it could not possibly go any deeper.
The lash showed him that he was wrong again.
He began to realise why so many men willingly submitted to a thrashing while making love. Without the stimulus of a whip nobody could ever penetrate as deeply as he had now done. He found, too-much to his surprise-that the pain was becoming less unbearable with each lash. His bottom felt as though it was on fire, and white-hot needles seemed to be stabbing at its nerves-but there was at the same time a suggestion of pleasure beneath the pain, some hitherto untasted pleasure which he realised was quite extra, which had no direct relation to the ordinary joy of love-making, and which was caused by the now-agonising, now-stimulating, lashes of the whip. He began to withdraw and thrust with his hip muscles now, but he timed his thrusts with the hiss of the whip as it descended. He felt his gathering ejaculation sending its waves of ecstasy through his loins, and fought to control it. He did not dare to think of what would happen if he finished before the blonde.
She lay tense, in another world. His penis, with its violent thrusts, seemed to reach up as far as her stomach. Her body quivered from head to toe as she answered his thrusts. Once, the tip of the whip curled too far round his bottom and cut into the side of her leg. She hardly noticed the pain. She was as though anaesthetised by sheer bliss.
Suddenly her body stiffened. She sank her nails deeply into his back as the poignant ecstasy possessed her.
He at once abandoned his control of himself, and allowed his violence a free rein.
The red-head gave a sigh, the sigh of one who has waited too patiently and too long for something badly needed. She shifted her position a little and aimed her whip at his back. With all her force she brought it down across the shoulder- blades. It was quite safe now. No pain could interrupt an ejaculation once it had begun.
He gave a sort of shuddering groan as the new agony struck him, but otherwise he took no notice. He sank himself into the savagery of his fulfilment, marvelling, with some small conscious corner of his brain, that such wondrous sensations could exist.
The sensations lasted for quite a long time, and the redhead was able to deliver several more lashes before the spasmodic convulsions of the two bodies began to lessen in force. Only then did she let her whip fall to her side. She paused for a moment and then threw it lightly down beside them.