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The Via Crucis of
Camille - Crux 1 - Page 13
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I reached for her top again to expose her breast, her hidden
breast, to the whip. She closed her eyes and waited for the
lash to strike. It was all happening very fast, even if at
times it felt like time was stopping.
It would soon be over, she was growing tired of the whip
and her position. She didn't say anything but I could see
in her face that her feet were killing her, her moans were
getting more desperate.
Perhaps I was reaching that line. The one
line we agreed upon which I would never cross.
Of course there was never a danger of crossing
it because she had the control over it. It was always
her call, but still I worried.
I looked for signs in her and didn't find any, she was
still in character even if her pain was real. |
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As the servant reached the post
it appeared that there was no limit to how much pain one could
take. Her slow trudging over the burning path, the coals and
burning ashes over her back, the insistent flogging, the timber
pressing her body against the burning ground, all of it designed
to extract as much pain as she could possibly resist, was
augmented at one point as a soldier picked a long stick that
was burning at one end and inserted it into her annus.
She felt her inside searing as
well and had the stick inside her the last few feet of her
crabbing over the charring soil.
She reached the post and finally
let her body lay still. It no longer matter if she moved
or not. There was nowhere to go from this point on. The
flogging stopped, so did the chanting and prodding. She
was laying over dying ashes now and a soldier poured water
over her body and the ground.
The water was both painful and
a welcome relief to her burning back. Her energy was consumed
now and quickly her mind faded into the dark, she no longer
heard voices or the wind. She no longer felt pain. |
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Camille's poses were not made up. They were the result of
her strain, of her reaction to the pain, of her struggle with
her support, her suffering with the weight of her body pulling
her wrists. It was what it should be, a normal pose
for the situation.
Seeing
her I could actually think that I was accomplishing
what I set out to do that day.
I had to see the video over and over, as I knew
I would, to appreciate it fully.
I was fearing it would be only a way of remembering.
This particular tape already had the touch of nostalgia.
It was a sad moment even as it was exciting and
promising.
I moved around Camille to lash her a bit
more. She looked at me. In her eyes I saw that
she was ready to stop. I nodded. |
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"49!", the soldier counted,
lashing Leticia's waist. It was reaching the end. Leticia's
mouth was dry, her wrists were bleeding, her scrapped feet
were bleeding as well. Her back, torso, legs, were all covered
with welts and whip marks, she was almost naked, the sun was
falling on her and burning her skin and lips.
"50!" the soldier screamed
loudly, so everyone would hear that he was done, that he
had completed his duty, that he had served his purpose,
that he had done his time.
His scream reached the servant's
ears, it was finally over, the execution of her mistress
was at hand and so was her final ordeal.
She was waiting for that moment
since she has hanged three days before, after her torture
over the fiery trail. |
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Camille gave me the sign, her body slumped after a particularly
hard lash which became the last. She fainted, indicating
to me that she had enough. I respected her decision and in
fact welcome it. I was getting tired. It was a big effort
to whip somebody as I learned a couple of decades back when
one afternoon my girlfriend and I decided to be really naughty
and I flogged her as she laid on the bed, totally naked, using
three kinds of whips, each harder than the other and for a
prolonged time.
I got tired and I was surprised.
Just as I was getting tired now. If
Camille hadn't given me the sign I would probably stopped
around the same time.
But it was always good to go beyond my own capacity,
it was always good to wait for her.
Even as we made love, I waited for her and the
rewards were plenty. |
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The Via
Crucis of Camille - Crux 1 - Part 2 |
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