Ebra The Whipping Post

“Naked,” Andaray said, as he always did when he was going to enjoy her.

One garment at a time, not hurrying but not dragging it out either, she undressed for her Master and her King. Lannid sipped a glass of whiskey, her silent audience.

“Face me. Grasp the bar,” Andaray said, indicating upward.

She saw a wood bar suspended between two others that dropped from a frame. Hands on the bar, she tried to shake it back and forth, testing its movement and security. It would not come out. She was held tall and open but not stretched like Master usually did.

He slid an arm around her back, holding her against him for a kiss.

“Are you being punished?” he asked.

“No, Master.”

“What is the purpose of this?” he asked.

“Our King’s pleasure. And yours.”

“And yours,” he concluded.

She smiled, knowing how much more she liked sex after a good beating. He’d taught her all manner of pleasures in their short time together. An entire education in sexual practices in a matter of eight weeks. He had learned not to ask her if she wanted this or that. Given the choice, she would default to no. He learned to tell her and then she would not refuse.

“Our king likes to see the strikes,” he told her. “I will swing from behind you.”

She only nodded. He’d done this before, so he could see her face during the whipping. He’d brought a long handled whip with a dozen wide, flat falls of brown leather. Swinging with arm extended, the leather wrapped around her side to strike her back. Gentle, with little force. He gave her several minutes to get used to the thumps and relax her initial nerves.

He swung with more force, the tips of leather smacking against her skin. This implement did not make her flinch, but eventually took her to a calm and dreamy state. He switched hands several times to strike from right and left, pushing her deeper into that fogginess. She lost track of how many strikes, lost all track of time.

He recognized the blankness of her face, paused to step in close against her and slid his open palm down her back. She sucked in a breath of callused hand stimulating tenderized skin.

“Turn around.”

She did, taking a fresh grip on the bar overhead. Eyes closed, waiting patiently. A cup touched her bottom lip.

“Drink.”

Water. She sipped until he took it away. He walked around behind her again. Instead of the wide tails she was expecting, the thin braid at the end of a signal whip bit into her breast. Lannid smiled to see her jump inside her skin and stomp a foot.

“Fucker!” she gritted between clenched teeth.

Andaray only chuckled, and did it again.

“Dammit. Motherfucker!”

A few swings in, Lannid opened his pants to stroke his cock nice and slow. A hundred times the whip striped her breasts, ribs, and belly. A hundred times she cursed Andaray. Whip over his shoulder, he reached around with both hands to grab her breasts. Squeezing hard, he forced a yelping scream from her. One hand smacked its corresponding breast.

“Asshole!” she said, foot stomping.

He pulled the stick holding her braid in its round coil, took hold of the braid near the top and pulled it sharply backwards.

“You’re going to be used now. Harder than I’ve used you on my own. Bend over the end of the bed.”

He let go to watch her slow walk to the left.

“You can use her however you want, General. She was a whore long enough to know every orifice is available. In addition, she will know that she is available to you whenever you want. Anything you want, she is to obey. If she doesn’t obey, you can force her as you choose. This is my private agreement with my Lifeslave. I discussed it with her. You can do with her as you can no longer do with the lower women of your court,” Andaray explained. “As we used to do with women captured in battle.”

Lannid took his friend at his word and positioned himself. A wad of spit between her buttocks and he drove into her anus. She screamed into the bed, stomping a foot. He rammed into her the way he liked best, harder than he’d done to Lanelle that first night. She hadn’t known it, but he had actually taken it easy on her.

The core of his soul most enjoyed brutal force and violence. He smacked Ebra’s thighs hard as he used her, held her braid to lift her face and hear her suffering.

“The whore likes it hard?” he hissed.

“Fucking asshole!”

“That means yes,” Andaray said, sitting on the side of the bed to watch.

Excerpt from First Queen of Unada

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TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twentysomething fiction books.

Read her books on her Amazon page — https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2

You can also find more of her OP/ED work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.