Whipping-weekend

As promised, the rest of My weekend at Charlotte’s:

First he was teasing and challenging Us saying that two bitches like us were never gonna make him beg and that he was never gonna kiss our boots, but when I started to use one of My more “blood drawing” singletails, his behavior changed completely. After a few good lashes with it, his back began to show serious cuts and bleeding welts his mocking turned into fear and he started to yell, shout and curse. I don’t know it was the pain or Our comments on the everlasting damage We might create with it. I noticed that this was one of his biggest fears, so I started to exaggerate and said for instance to Charlotte that  I had been scarred a slave so bad that he no longer could sit. It drove him nuts!

But, nevertheless, his pride overtook and although pulling frantically like a madman at his cuffs, he refused to beg Me to stop. At least that was until We had shown him a picture of his bleeding back and I said to Charlotte that I was going to aim at his face. Of course he didn’t know I was winking to My friend and that I had taken another whip. So when I lashed him in the face he yelled like a pig that got skinned (although it was a much softer whip, than the one I had used on his back). And he broke when he got another one over his other cheek and I yelled (acting)  something like “Oh Dear look what a furrow! That will never heal!” he broke in tears and begged to stop and started to cry, admitting that We had won. A sentence We made him say about ten times, louder and louder. And during this, We kept on whipping him (on the back) showing that We’d only stop if it suited Us, not because of his begging. And when Charlotte forced him to kiss her boots, I got this wicked idea and I rubbed the sole of My riding boot over his bleeding back, and presented it for cleaning. I made him lick his own blood!!! And: he did!!!! Even without complaining. The one that was not going to beg, was licking My riding boots clean!!!!! A complete victory! Don’t you agree?  
But Charlotte even went further: She went to the toilet and came back with a full glass! And he drank it till the last drop!!!!
When We rode back to Charlotte’s place, We felt so hot that She called two slaves to come over and serve Us sexually….

Lady Contessa Pat

Now, when I look back at the whipping, I realize that (like before with a to the bone whipping) three phases could clearly be distinguished:

First: selfconfidence  (in this case combined with challenging mocking)

Second: Fear, anger and pride: angry shouting and yelling trying to stop the whipping without having to give in

Last: Surrender: after being broken, crying and begging like a baby, completely subjected to Your mercy

I wonder if some of you have similar experiences or is it just food for psychologists?