Posted by melody_A
on Tue 18 May 04, 8:09 AM to melody_A's blog.
From time to time, a Bottom's resolve, obedience and submission should be examined to see if progress has been made. So, here was the challenge.
The scene is set in a North African country, where Mel is wanted by the police, who suspect her, wrongly, of course, of murder. She approaches me in a bar and begs me to get her out of the country, offering me lavish monetary rewards. I point to my beautiful, imaginary yacht in the harbour and tell her of my imaginary fabulous wealth. Being the perfect bounder and cad, I suggest that there could be one thing a beautiful young woman might be able to offer me.
She protests that she is engaged to a man to whom her maidenhead is promised (and, no, dear readers, that does not mean she owns a massive estate in the Thames Valley). She will never betray her fiancé, she protests, with conviction and sincerity. I tell her that she is wrong, that, if I agree to take her on my yacht, within a short time I will find ways to persuade her to beg me, plead with me to take her body and use it for my every pleasure. Naturally, she vows this will not be.
We reach an agreement. I will help her to escape. In return, she will facilitate in every way my efforts to break her will, including obeying my instructions to the letter. In return, I promise that I shall not touch her intimately, nor separate her from her virginity, unless and until she begs me to do so. The journey home will last several days, during which period I may make several attempts to conquer her. If ever once she gives herself to me, she is mine for the rest of the voyage as often as I wish. She agrees, convinced of my good faith in this matter and sure of her own resolve.
Having made our escape and set sail, I order her to strip naked, reminding her of her promise to obey and facilitate. She shyly undresses, attempting to cover herself with her arms. Pointless, given what is to follow. She is ordered to kneel on the bed, legs slightly apart, and I place a harness on her, attached to the bed, so that no movement is possible in any direction. Then I tell her what is to follow.
She will be caned and whipped, progressively harder and harder until she begs me to make love to her. She will receive one stroke with an instrument of correction. At this point she will have 15 seconds in which to offer herself to me in humiliating terms. If she does not, she will receive six more strokes with the same implement and these strokes, once started, cannot be stopped.
After a pause, she will receive a single stroke with a more persuasive instrument, and, if no submission is offered, six more strokes without mercy. And so on, until her resolve to save herself for her fiancé is defeated, or, improbably, she endures everything and emerges victorious and intacta. Deep down, almost as soon as the strokes start to land on her defenceless buttocks, she senses, inevitably, that her position is hopeless. She had totally failed to anticipate such ruthlessness. She will assuredly give in, whether simply through pain or perhaps out of a desire to be give herself to this man who has stripped her naked in body, mind and soul.
Whichever the reason for her final submission, her pride and self-esteem will require her to endure beyond her normal tolerances. She will not want to give him an easy victory, where the ensuing sex would be abject and humiliating; she is desperate to earn his respect. Somehow, she knows from the first stroke, that there will be no reprieve; this man will most certainly take her, when, in due course, as she increasingly realizes is inevitable, she offers herself to him.
This voyage commenced with Mel yesterday. Those of you familiar with some of Mel's earlier logs will know that this was bound to be a very tough test for her. First, she took one and then six strokes of the 6mm rattan cane with a few moans. This was soon followed by the rattan equivalent of the birch, soaked for 30 minutes in warm water. I thought this might well be Mel's limit but she dug very, very deep. I took out the 8 - 10 mm rattan cane, a much heavier implement, which packs a serious punch. I gave her a single stroke, very firm, and looked at the clock, expecting with each of the 15 seconds to hear the words of submission. That had hurt. Silence. I gave her six more strokes and her body writhed, a deep moan emanated from her throat, followed by several cries of anguish. The welt marks were already appearing on her buttocks, as she fought the urge to protest. This time, the pain did not start to subside after half a minute or so; it stayed at full intensity for several minutes. She had never been here before; usually, when taken past normal limits, she mouths off at me, anger overtaking her self-control. Not today; she continued to writhe gently, constrained by the straps of the harness, enduring in silence the intense pain that refused to abate.
It was several minutes before I felt it sensible to speak to her; then I gave her the praise and admiration she deserved and loosened the shackles. She had won the first round and had surprised and pleased me with her courage and determination. Of course, the voyage is not over yet; even a big yacht takes several days to sail from North Africa back to Britain. There is a single stroke somewhere which will break her will, a single stroke whose promise of six more will be too unbearable a prospect, a single stroke which will drag a humbling submission from her lips. But today was Mel's day, her victory over fear, pain and me.
She is currently asleep in bed as I write this but will no doubt read it when she gets up, whilst I shall still be abed. She could choose to resume the scene in the morning but I think, if I were Mel, I'd like to enjoy my triumph a little longer (and give my buttocks time to recover!). After all, Mel and I are not really on a 5-day yacht voyage, that bit was fiction, though the 21 strokes she received certainly were not. No, we'll be sailing together for a lot longer than that and, if we choose to suspend time on our fictional voyage for a while, I hope you, the readers, will understand.
If we tarry too long and you find yourself becoming impatient for the sequel, please feel free to re-enact the scene yourselves. It's one with plenty of opportunity for innovation - and there is an inherently cruel ending in the fact that, except where you give the scene a finite time limit, the bottom or sub has ample opportunity to win respect and admiration, may endure successfully several sessions, but can always, in the end, have his or her will broken and be forced to submit.
And that, in due course, will be the fate of Mel, to find herself facing the prospect of six strokes similar to one which has just left her resolve in tatters. She will know the game is up then, but nothing can take away from her the successes that went before.
Edited Tue 18 May 04, 8:11 AM by melody_A
