He had me roll onto my back so he could use the cane on my breast and nipples and thighs.  After making the marks and getting me to respond as he wanted, he returned to his bag.  I heard what he had in his hand even before I saw it.

“CRACK!”

Followed by a chuckle.

A smile spread across my face.  I had been craving the single tail – craving it for a month, in fact.  The feeling of it hitting my flesh. The sensation of that flash point of hot and pain that fades into a wonderful feeling of warm pleasure was what I had been wanting. 

And hearing the crack made me happy I was about to get it.

I closed my eyes and tipped my head back a bit.  I could feel the whip brush lightly against my chin as it sought out its true target – my breasts and nipples.  And when it found its mark, I moaned and arched towards it – savoring the sensation.

With each lash, I had to be careful not to move too much as to not make him miss his target.  I held still – eyes closed, smile on my face and moan leaving my lips.  And the whip licked my body with its sharp tongue.  

Licked by breasts.

Licked by nipples. 

Licked my hips.

Licked my inner thighs.

Licked my stomach.

Licked my ribs.

The rhythm of the lashes on my skin matched the beat of the music playing in the background.  My body danced with the whip to the music.  Only an occasional crack in the air above me reminded me of how much power the yielder truly held over me and my pain.

“Lift your legs straight up” was the command.

I complied and got a “good girl” in response.

The single tail found new targets: my thighs, my ass, my inner thighs, and the soles of my feet.  I held still or as still as I could as each lash found its target and as I relished in those sharp licks of pain on my skin.

Our scene had been an entertaining one until then.  The one delivering the blows was singing to the music and providing color commentary to a newbie who was clearly uncertain about what was going on.  Our banter was funny.  I was laughing as he struck me. I was swearing as I normally do which resulted in an explanation about how “fuck is not a safe word”.   It was lighthearted, intense, but entertaining for us both.

The introduction of the single tail whip took me to a different place.  A place of release. A place of relaxation.  A place of satisfaction and floating and a new level of arousal.  Instead of giggle, I moaned. Instead of making smart ass remarks, I groaned in delight.  Instead of tensing up, I relaxed.  The pace changed. The mood changed in a good way.

And like the music playing, our play changed again as the whip was put away and the next implement was brought out. The laughter and joking returned after my craving for the whip was satiated, and he returned to other evil implements in his gear case.  

But I know my craving for the single tailed whip will be back even sooner then before.  As each dance I have with it, only furthers my addiction to the single tail and the perfect way it is thrown.  Like a true addiction, the craving returns sooner after each hit I get.  

And to think, at one time I thought I would never want to try it.  

Never say never.