This entry is part 3 of 35 in the series Sinful Sunday

The coarse burlap sack covered her face, pulled down over her head.  Burlap sack bondage.

A long sinuous extension of my arm strikes, with a smart snap and a rush of air.  Sometimes the lashes come in a rhythm.  Their strike, sting, and burn can be almost be anticipated.

Sometimes the strike comes without warning.  There’s no pattern, no comfort.  Each moment it’s own agony, wondering when and where.  Oh God, is he really going to use that whip between my legs?

Then a crack inches away, almost deafening.  A reminder is growled . . . “That could have been your flesh.”

That’s when the screams began.

“Scream all you want sweetheart.  There’s nobody to hear, but you and me.  And, we both know, nobody expects to see you again until Sunday . . . “

whipsmart & burlap sack bondage

whipstrike

I’m a man of many loves, many passions.

One of my passions is the singletail.  I love whips.  The feel of one in my hand is like the feel of coming home.

black-divider-no-background-hi

It’s Sunday . . . Go forth and be sinful! The Joy of Kink is joining Molly’s Daily Kiss (and a host of others) for this week’s Sinful Sunday. Why don’t you join too?
Sinful Sunday

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Sinful Sunday Whipsmart & Burlap Sack Bondage
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