A friend of mine, Jackie, sent me this as a response to my story, My Dark Angel. I am deeply honoured that someone reading my work takes her time to respond and add to it. And although a continuation, really, defeats the purpose of the original story, I am proud to present Jackie's addition. It is her story in italics below. Read and enjoy!
I picture you being tied with your clothes on for your horsewhipping but once restrained the dreamy boy unfastened your skirt and took your panties completely off. He then teased you about your predicament and threatened you with the worst beating you could imagine. He relished in your fear and helplessness but then whipped you somewhat "considerately," although you didn't realize it with the searing stings that made you dance and scream and feel like your skin was being stripped from you. A mild horsewhipping can leave one in a sobbing sorry state as yours did for you, until the next day when you yearned for another one.
You had the feeling that the Dark Angel was not doing this for the first time. He was too adept and too efficient.
Your wrists were tied with a very thin almost twine like rope which made the binding very snug without being painfully tight. A second long rope with a weight on the end was thrown over the beam and one end was tied to the string on your wrists. The other end was then gradually pulled downward as your arms were hoisted up and your heels left the floor and you were standing on your tiptoes. You were in the most vulnerable position and completely at the mercy of the boy who loved to punish girls.
Without a word your skirt was undone and cast to the floor. His hands slid inside the waistband of your panties and they were dragged down over your buttocks and on down to your ankles and left there. The angel knew all too well that you would soon be toe dancing out of them.
His choice of whips was one used to train ponies with. It had a long handle and a whipcord lash which dangled from the end. The lash was known for its incredible sting and the angel did explain that if it got the attention of a horse it was surely going to make an impression on your fluffy white bum.
As he approached you with the devilish instrument he explained that he was going to whip your ass to a point where it was questionable as to whether you had a white ass with red stripes or a red ass with white stripes. This was somewhere around 40 - 50 lashes depending on the girl, he commented.
Nothing in the world had prepared you for the hot, searing, stinging, biting ,burning lines of fire that the angel laid across your fair derrière. A horsewhipping made a hair brush spanking seem like a baby punishment and you had only received about ten lashes.
After the whipping it was time to go home. Janice could tolerate the loose skirt but the angel offered to put her panties in the pocket for her. She rode home kneeling on the front seat and leaning over it with her tenderized bottom sticking out. She could have endured a painful sit down but she wanted her punisher to be proud of his labors.
"Are we going to do it when we get back?" she asked him.
"If your tattered ass is up to it," he replied.
''You can put some cream on me to get me ready. That's the least you can do for whipping me like a bad pony," she joked.
"I'll tell you how I felt about being whipped by you while we're "engaged". You may be surprised to hear some of what I have to say," she continued.