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The Ultimate Whipping: Lani at Camp Seventeen
The Ultimate Whipping: Lani at Camp Seventeen
The Ultimate Whipping: Lani at Camp Seventeen
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The Ultimate Whipping: Lani at Camp Seventeen

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A whipping can be a punishment. A whipping can be to discourage, change or encourage behavior. For some, a whipping can be an erotic pleasure to give, or like Lani to receive and share.
Some whippings are severe, some erotic, some build to a set number of lashes or until the slave begs for mercy or forgiveness.
The Ultimate Whipping is none of these. Lani, who relishes a good whipping, consents to experience it knowing that the only outcome is her total and complete failure - emotional and physical, not just once but three times. She knows that once consented to and begun, there is no turning back, no quitting, no mercy, no stopping.
Lani knowingly, willingly, and even eagerly consents to voluntary enslavement for a period of several weeks at Camp Seventeen, a luxurious and private exclusive "camp" where it's very wealthy members freely indulge their BDSM perversions with mostly "willing" slaves and guests.
Her sponsors set her up for some fantastic sexual training and a physical and emotional course of training that prepares her for her Ultimate Whipping.
She does not want to disappoint; she wants to triumph, to show the members how special she is, and she does. But as with every Ultimate Whipping, it ends in glory and painful total and complete failure.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMay 6, 2011
ISBN9780463473856
The Ultimate Whipping: Lani at Camp Seventeen
Author

Danielle Richards

Danielle Richards was born, raised and now lives in Honolulu, Hawaii and experiences much of the lifestyle explored in this book. The author is not Lani, but shares a similar, but not as exciting, background and lifestyle. While the stories of Lani are inspired by reality, they are pure fiction and any resemblance to actual persons and places is only a coincidence or your imagination. The author enjoys practical hands-on research into the subject matter so that the situations and sensations discussed may be as realistic as possible, and has enjoyed meeting with some of the fields' foremost experts and practioners. Danielle Richards practices, advocates and writes about only safe, sane and consensual engagement in any BDSM or sadomasochistic activity or play. The stories explores some of the ways consensual BDSM may still be very exciting and challenging and highly rewarding to all the participants. Danielle Richards is adamantly and violently opposed to any nonconsensual abuse of any kind to any person under any circumstances; and all characters in the stories told and in actual play must be knowledgeable and aware and at least over eighteen years of age. The eroticism and enjoyment of BDSM play is not based on degrees of physical involvement, levels of pain or intensity. It is based on the willingness of all players to provide to the others what they all seek. While it is a physical and visual medium, it is far more a matter imagination, emotion, and the mind.

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    The Ultimate Whipping - Danielle Richards

    The Ultimate Whipping

    Lani at Camp Seventeen

    Danielle Richards

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2010 Revised 2022 Danielle Richards

    Discover other titles by Danielle Richards at Smashwords.com

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    NOTICE

    This book contains an adult subject and is strictly intended only for readers over the age of eighteen.

    It contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts and circumstances and depicts consensual bondage, discipline, and sadomasochistic practices and passions. It is a work of pure fiction, and all characters, places and activities are totally fictional. Any similarity to real people and places is unintentional and purely a coincidence. Any dear reader that may find such activity even slightly offensive is requested to not read the book.

    This work of pure fiction does draw inspiration from the author’s experience and reality. To emphasize the point, however, all incidents, events, practices, and happenings in the story, while fictional, are done with the full informed consent of the participants. Safe, Sane, Informed and Consensual are a guiding principle of the authors’ approach to all matter of daily life, sexual activity and especially any and every aspect of anything to do with BDSM in its many flavors. Consent can, and for the author and this story, does mean both specific and general expressions of consent. Consent to a generic scene in which many different activities knowingly may occur is then knowing, willful and informed consent to the range of activities encompassed in it. Within that framework of informed consent, unexpected things, generally but not specifically exactly consented to, may occur. That is part of the beauty and excitement that the players so earnestly are seeking. Some harsh, even awful things may occur within that context, but it is the purpose and will of the participants, especially the recipient of the BDSM related event, that it happens so it can be fully experienced and enjoyed, yes, enjoyed.

    Lani, is a young, strong, petite, athletic, dark tanned beauty from Hawaii, a girl who loves giving herself willingly, even enthusiastically, as a slave. She especially appreciates a harsh whipping, is thrilled, and fulfilled by the challenge of it, and consents to an Ultimate Whipping. She willingly consents and gives her hard brown body, and her equally hard emotional being over to temporary slavery at an exclusive and exotic BDSM resort for the very rich. There, weeks of hard physical, emotional, and erotic training prepare her for this very special and challenging experience. Her journey to her appointment with the whip is exciting and highly educational. Her encounters with other slaves and the guests of the resort give her exciting new experiences and revelations as she moves toward her date with an Ultimate Whipping. She wishes only to take all she can, surpassing her own expectations and limits in taking on this amazing personal challenge; and to get and give as much pleasure as possible. Her final realization that her only possible option and reward is total emotional surrender and absolute physical failure is what draws her in ever deeper and fuels her desire to experience and savor her Ultimate Whipping.

    THE ULTIMATE WHIPPING

    "Lani at Camp Seventeen"

    Preface

    Saying at this moment that I am both excited and calm does not make sense to most people. The dictionary says to be calm is to be not excited. But this same dictionary would not find it possible to put exquisite pleasure and excruciating pain together. Yet they go together for me. Since you are reading this, they very possibly may for you too. If you are not sure, maybe we can find out together.

    So, with incredible excitement and anticipation, a very heightened sense of fear, calm and totally naked,

    I am being led through a large group of wealthy and casually elegant diners in a lavishly decorated tent toward The Frame, a contraption designed for and ideally suited to suspend a slave for a long and savage whipping.

    I am here at Camp Seventeen, an exclusive BDSM resort, for what they call the Ultimate Whipping. Loving the whip, and of being harshly whipped, as I do, I willingly, actually anxiously, consented to it when the proposition was but before me.

    Here I have had weeks of physical training with hard exercise and conditioning to shape and prepare my body. Always bound naked under the tropical sun during dawn to dark to bake my skin to a sensuous deep dark brown, and the caring application of exotic oils have prepared my look and my skin. Sensational sexual training and continuous sexual arousal, falling in love with so many beautiful slaves and fabulous Masters and Mistresses, has super-charged my sexual hunger. Near constant and severe bondage to shape my psyche and build my endurance, witnessing a steady stream of whippings and tortures, and denial of the whip and those tortures to me, have all been cleverly and skillfully employed to prepare me emotionally for this moment.

    So, as I move forward through these people, I am ready. I am excited. I am afraid. I am eager. Yet, I am calm.

    The light from the flaming torches set about the tents and along the path to The Frame glistens on my lightly oiled mahogany skin and flashes off the swaying delicate gold slave jewelry in my left nipple and navel marking my status and ownership. My body is rock hard. Every muscle is well defined under taut skin on a body stripped of all fat. I know I look fantastic and love the feminine athletic hard body I came with and that has been fully perfected here. The way the people look at me tells me they like what they see, and me. I have been told my body is perfect for whipping. I hope so. I do not want to disappoint them.

    Secured in a fully stretched X in The Frame before them, I await the Ultimate Whipping. I want to do my absolute best. I want to bring pleasure, and pride to my Master and Mistress. I want to take it all. I so want to take it magnificently, to succeed and go farther than anyone, even I, can imagine. But I am reminded, that failure, absolute total failure, is the only possible outcome, and the exit possible. That is the Ultimate Whipping. No predetermined number, no stopping, no mercy, only whipping me until I fail. Until my body fails, and I pass out. Not just once, but three times.

    I am calm, but so excited. Oh Master, can we please begin. Whip me, please! Oh, please whip me until I can endure no more.

    Chapter 1

    Yes Sir, you know very well, more than just about anyone I should think, that I really love a good hard, no mercy whipping. I don’t think I can get enough of it, or one that it too hard. At least I haven’t yet. I’ll admit it may be odd to some, but I know you understand, I just love it. I shouldn’t, I guess. Many would find me crazy, stupid, or demented. But I do absolutely love it. And I know you understand that very well"

    This is the reply I make in a calm subdued voice to his very direct question. I think it is a particularly odd query in that not only the person asking the question, but two others at our dinner table of six, have whipped me before and everyone here is very much aware of the how I respond under the lash. I simply love it and can’t get enough of it.

    Still, the question coming as it does, is an odd surprise. The question is only the beginning of an interesting evening and discussion, and a very intense several weeks to follow.

    The invitation, to join my Master and Mistress, Mr. and Mrs. Kenji Matsumoto, for dinner with my Mom and Dad, and Ms. Linda Baxter, my mentor, came as a real shock. Nevertheless, since I love everyone on this little list, and since the invitation is to Hoku’s, the superb upscale restaurant at the Kahala Hotel, I am more than happy to accept. Besides, I had not heard from Mr. and Mrs. M, as they prefer to be called, since they put my mom and I on a plane out of Japan after my great little S&M adventure with the video for the rock group Power Station. They had told me they would be in touch soon to discuss another adventure for me, and the months of waiting has seemed very long. I am having a fine mid-Summertime of sun and surf and an exercise and fitness obsession, but can’t help but get antsy waiting for some more fun in the S&M scene. I am really getting desperate because all my girlfriends that introduced me to the scene are on vacations on the mainland or Europe, leaving me alone and horny in Hawaii. Well, not that horny overall, since with my S&M playmates gone, I do have more time for Todd, Kawika, and Mike, and a few guys I pick up for little quickies. I mean, after all, a girl must have some outside interests.

    Anyway, with an invitation to dinner at such a great place, I even got dressed really nicely. When we went shopping in Paris on the way back from Japan, I saw this little lace chemise in a lingerie shop there. It is pastel mint and yellow with purple flowers and comes with an awesomely sexy and super tiny matching thong. It is very sheer, but I wear it as a dress. You can see the thong and it shows my figure very well and it hangs just perfectly on spaghetti straps and drapes nicely from my nipples. My Mom said that she feels it is unbelievably sexy and probably barely street legal…and you have to get it and better yet, you have to wear it out. Besides the label is Ravage. With that name, I knew it is for me. I did my hair nicely and am even wearing heels. This pleases my mom and dad, and Ms. Baxter, and surprises the hell out of the Matsumoto’s who made a point of mentioning it when they greet us as we arrived.

    You look really fantastic tonight, Lani. The pale pastels of this dress--is it a dress?-- really sets off your super dark tan fantastically, Mr. M. practically gushes.

    It does indeed dear, Mrs. M. joins in without the slightest hint of jealously, and it is actually a piece of lingerie, a chemise, but she does look stunning, doesn’t she? Lani, she says now directing her comments to me, you can pull this off like few can. You always look so fantastic dressed and ...undressed. I remember how stunning you were that last night in Tokyo and didn't think I'd ever see you looking that amazing again. But you do again tonight. What a joy.

    Mr. M. smiles broadly and makes a joke about wanting to pull it off right here and now, and while I giggle a bit, Mrs. M. just gives him the look wives always give to annoying husbands.

    Thank you. I wasn’t sure how you would feel about this much exposure in such an upscale public place. Anyway, I am glad you like it, since you are the guys that paid for it. I love the way it looks and like the way it feels even better, I report and swing around slowly to give them a good look at the deeply plunging back and the exquisite detail on the back of the thong.

    The four women in the group, Mrs. M, Mom, Linda, and I bring the room to a stunned silence when we walk in. We are all looking really hot, sexy, and yet classy and sophisticated.

    The polite small talk lasts only until we have ordered. I brake training and gave up on an on and off again totally non-fat diet for some of the fantastic Pacific-rim fare they have at Hoku’s. Our table is in the far corner of the dining room, by the windows facing the ocean and Koko Head, and is semi-private in its placement, but not that private for the discussion that is about to take place. So, it is still a little disconcerting to me, even knowing that all of us gathered around this table are into the scene, and except for me and my parents have all played with one another. So it is, as I told you, a surprise when Mr. M. takes a sip of his wine and then smoothly changes the conversation from his golf game to asking me Lani, you do have a special love for the whip, don’t you?

    I know that dear, he says after I have confirmed my love of the whip. You see, besides wanting to see you all again, I wanted to discuss an idea my wife and I have for you to further learn and explore. Are you interested? he asks softly.

    Well, you know the answer to that one too? I say jokingly.

    Do you remember in Japan when I told you at my beach house that I knew of a nice school that would teach you sexual techniques that you have never even dreamed off? Mrs. M. quizzes me breaking into the conversation from across the table. We have made arrangements for you do go; if you want to. And, we have set up an opportunity for you to have a fantastic experience with the whip. It is something that they specialize in.

    Please, tell me more, I urge sincerely, glancing back and forth between my parents and Mr. and Mrs. M.

    The Matusmotos pick up on my searching glances. Oh, I guess we should tell you that we have already discussed the idea with your parents and Linda. They think it may be exactly what you are looking for. I mean, we all realize that you are nearly twenty-one, an adult, and can choose to do whatever you like. But we know how close your family is, that you are all S&M players, and all, but we wanted to talk to them to see what they felt before we presented the offer to you, Mr. M. reports calmly taking another sip of wine as my mom, dad and Linda nod knowingly.

    O.K., whatever it is, I’m game, I blurt out brashly.

    I think it might be best if you hear the program before you agree to it, dear, my mom offers sweetly in the tone mom’s use to tell you that you are about to screw up.

    Maile is right, Lani, Mrs. M. hurries to agree with my mom. Then she takes a rather deep sip of her wine and then looking me directly in the eye with that gaze of powerful authority she has mastered, she continues. You see, one of the things that we love about you dear is that you thrive on the scene, and that you understand why consent is such an important thing. With consent enduring the most demanding stress or painful play can be so amazingly wonderful, and without it, an awful scary thing. It is important to you, isn’t it?

    Oh yes, very much. I am still a pitiful novice in the scene, but I have given it a lot of thought in the short time I have been exposed to it. I mean the five of you gathered around this table with me have all helped to introduce me to this lifestyle and erotic pleasure. And for that, I will always be most grateful. But I have come to understand that, for me at least, it is not just the pain that is the turn on. I mean, I don’t get turned on just from getting hurt. When I broke my collar bone in gymnastics, that sure wasn’t a turn on. Hurt like hell, but no thrill. Even at this early stage of development, I have come to appreciate that the thrill involves the pain, no disputing that. But it is much more. It is the emotional scene, and the physical scene and the aesthetic. It is the fact and the fantasy. It is giving yourself totally to another and trying to please them and expand their realm of pleasure by taking willingly all they wish to inflict on you. Still, not only knowing that you are giving of yourself freely, but that there is a safety net of consent and mutual agreement about what will transpire allows you to lose yourself in the moment without the terrible fear that something totally awful, that you really don’t want to happen, will happen to you. Do you know what I mean? I ask sincerely seeking their understanding and approval.

    Yes, of course we do, my beloved teacher and first real Mistress, Ms. Baxter, says actively entering the conversation for the first time.

    But don’t you ever wonder what it would be like if you didn’t have any control over what is going to happen? I mean, for example, if you knew you were to be whipped and couldn’t stop it when you wanted, Mrs. M. asks pointedly.

    I didn’t have the ability to stop you when you whipped me at the end of the show in Tokyo, I countered.

    Oh, yes you did. You just didn’t realize that you did. I would have stopped the minute you really asked me to. It is just that knowing you, I knew you would want to take as much as you possibly could to please me, the audience and yourself, Mrs. M. informs me, correctly.

    "So how is this different, and what does that have to do with what you are offering me? I want to know.

    It is hard to explain it this way, Lani; but we wanted to hear you confirm that consent is an important factor for you. Yet, we want to make the point to you, and to demonstrate to you, that at another level the loss of control has its own power of excitement. So, I guess the best approach is for us to outline our offer and see what you think.

    At this point the waiter returns with the appetizers and is placing them before us. Fine, Sir. I trust you all, and know you will only do what is right for me. I’m all ready to agree, but to make everyone happy, I want to hear the details, I tell them still very full of the moment and the attention I am getting.

    Lani, Mr. M. says in a scolding tone, how can you tell us you care about consent, and then go ahead and agree to something before you even know what it is? His tone of contempt at this moment is too clear.

    It is easy, and may I add totally consistent. You need not get so upset. You see, Sir, I reply affecting an authoritarian tone of my own, the plan you will offer is being presented by a Master and Mistress that I already know, trust totally, and love; has been approved by the women that introduced me to you in the first place, thank you Ms. Baxter; and the people that care the most for me in the whole world, my parents. So, you see, how much more do I need to know? I’m interested in the details. I am sure I will find them stimulating, but I already know I’ll agree. And now, you know why. I end my little speech and smile a sexy sly knowing smile at all my loved ones at the table.

    I am sorry, gomen nasai, Mr. M. says bowing his head slightly as he does. I should know you better. I feel sorry to have said it. I am over-matched by you, Mr. M. says with a touching sincerity.

    No worries, I pronounce with a pretend Aussie accent. I just wanted to explain I had a reason for what I said, and that I hold these beliefs deeply. I now flashed an even bigger smile and say, So…, please pass the crab dip, and…the plan is…?

    Chapter 2

    The plan, or program as Mr. M. refers to it, basically has two major components. The program is on the one hand, fantastic, imaginative, instructional, motivating, fascinating, exciting, and erotic, and the more I hear about it the more I want to do it. On the other hand, the program is also clearly the most diabolically sadistic, entrapping, terrifying and fiendish scheme I have ever heard of; and the more I hear about it the more I want to do it…maybe.

    I become increasingly enthusiastic as the basic part of the program is laid out before me, one or another of the group gathered at the table asks me if I really understand what each component really means. I can see the doubt on my dad’s face but can also see that at each turn my mom is reassuring him that I do understand and what is being proposed is well within my desires, if perhaps not my capability. The explanation goes on from the appetizer, to the salad of Waimanalo Greens with the delicious raspberry vinaigrette dressing, to, in my case, the seared Ahi served with wasabi sauce and some awesome garlic mashed potatoes, all the way through my crème Brule and espresso. The detail with which the program is explained suggests both that they want to be sure I know what I am about to get into, and that they really enjoy the vicarious thrill of talking about it.

    O.K., then, I begin when they have finally finished with every detail of their little group presentation, the way I see it is that if I agree, you take me to this special place in Thailand you call Camp Seventeen. I understand that Camp Seventeen is basically an exclusive S&M playground and school for the very rich and the people they bring there. Then for about a month or so I will be trained in the most erotic and exotic sexual techniques, and at the same time be trained in advanced bondage. Part of the training is to get some really fantastic physical conditioning and be fully prepared for the thing you are calling the Ultimate Whipping. Then I have about a week to recover and come home. Is that a fair summary?

    Yes, as an abstract. But are you sure you understand how your consent fits in and what the extent and limits of it are, and what actually makes the Ultimate Whipping what it is? Mrs. M. inquires sincerely.

    Yes, I say with complete confidence, I do.

    Then what are they, Lani? Mr. M. puts it to me directly.

    It's really simple. It is a lot like the first time we played at your house, and come to think of it, I said looking over at Ms. Baxter, it is a lot like the way you handled my wonderful initiation.

    Not exactly, dear, Ms. Baxter interrupts. Remember in both of the cases you mention, you consented to be our slave and to allow us to initiate you or to play with you, but you always had the option of stopping the scene if you wanted to. In your play with Mr. M. stopping caused no consequences other than the scene would end. Yes, in your initiation, if you stopped the consequences were that your initiation would cease immediately, and we would never let you associate with the group again. But in both cases, you did have the ultimate control to stop the scene whenever you wanted to. Do you understand that in this program, once you consent to participate, the predefined limits will be faithfully respected, but you won’t be able to stop the program once it begins?

    Yes, Ms. Baxter, I fully understand that. I guess my example is bad, but I do understand. I find that to be a most daring, delicious, and fascinating part of the attraction.

    You are right dear, my mom allows. It is. But therein lies the challenge and problem.

    But I understand, yeah, that we will establish the basic limits in advance. Isn’t that, right? It is just that once I agree to those, I can’t stop the program once it starts. Right?

    Exactly, Mr. M. says and the rest nod.

    And Mrs. M. continues, how does the Ultimate Whipping work?

    That is the part that I think is the coolest…, and the scariest. What you said is that the idea is to give somebody a whipping that would push them well past their level of endurance and will. That the person getting whipped is prepared both mentally and physically to face the event, and then in a ritual ceremony in front of the club’s membership, management, staff, and slaves, is whipped until falling into unconscious and then revived and whipped until unconscious again two more times. After the slave is unconscious each time, the slave gets five more strokes to ensure they are not faking, and then it is over. The diabolically clever, or should I say fiendishly sadistic, part of this plan is that neither the Master nor the slave can actually control how it goes. The slave must take the whipping until passing out, and the Master must whip the slave until that point no matter what, I explain with a detachment like I am describing an event from history. But the moisture that I feel developing between my legs signals me that I understand and am embracing this this on more than the purely intellectual level. I pause to gauge their reaction. It seems, in a very interesting way, that in fact my body controls the safe word, so to speak. When my body quits, three times, it’s over. Maybe fairly soon, just a few strokes, or maybe after a very long time and a great number. I wonder. Fascinating.

    After a few seconds, Ms. Baxter speaks. I guess you get an A for comprehension and reporting, dear, but are you sure you are willing and able to undergo such an ordeal. The slave you mention and the person getting whipped you talk about is you dear. Remember, only you can put yourself in this terrible position, but once you are in it, nobody, I mean nobody, can stop it.

    I nod yes, for the first time overcome with the consequences of agreeing. Well, I must not be the first one to do it, am I? It sounds very well thought out and all. Besides, I can’t imagine that people like you would try and get me to do this if anyone has died or anything.

    No one has died. It is a real, and very terrible whipping, but it is done in such a way as no permanent marks are given. The marks may show for a couple of months, but they are not permanent. The preparation makes sure of that, Mr. M. is now reassuring me. But while we at Club Seventeen have done it before, we only do it less than once or twice a year as a rule. It has been better than a year since our last one. It is such an event that members will come to observe from all over the world if they can possibly make it.

    Really? I say, showing some slight fear in my voice for the first time.

    More coffee everyone? Mr. M., my beloved Master and our gracious host asks.

    We all relax and the conversation turns smoothly to small talk as we all sip Cappuccinos, Espresso and Kona coffee for the next several minutes. A nice diversion for me is when the really cute waiter that has been eyeing me very fully when he comes by, and I flirting boldly with him, lets the water from the water pitcher drip ever so cleverly on my back, just above the crack in my ass. I don’t jump or say anything to him, but when he goes around to the other side of the table; I look him right in the eye and sipping my water, let just a trickle drip on my right nipple, making the sheer lace rally transparent. What fun. I think I’d like to get wet with this guy.

    Then as suddenly as he had turned the conversation away, Mrs. M. returns it to the subject at hand as the waiters leave the table. Well, Lani, what do you say? Yes, or No?

    I look quickly and in turn to my mom, dad, and Ms. Baxter. In each I see a deep concern, and a green light. I also see a reflection of my spirit that wants to do it. Sure. Yes.

    Are you sure? Mr. M. pushes at me.

    Yes. Absolutely. I mean I am sure I will regret it many times while I am there, but like the other things, overall, when it is over, I will have learned and experienced more than ever before in my life and love it.

    I think we can take her word for this, Mrs. M. says softly, and her stunning rock hard and jutting nipples tell us she is all in.

    O.K., then, that’s it. Come by tomorrow afternoon with your mom and Linda, and we will go over the specific of your limits, and the do’s and don’ts. I’ll call Club Seventeen when we get home tonight and confirm your reservation, have them alert the membership to make plans for about two months from now and make your airline reservations. You will leave in five days. O.K?

    Wow, that's it. I'm doing it and things are moving really fast. Yes, that will be wonderful, I say and meaning it, while a cold chill runs up my spine.

    Chapter 3

    The flight from Honolulu to Tokyo-Narita Airport in Japan is long and uneventful. Having partied pretty hard the night before I left on my latest adventure, giving both Kawika and then Todd farewell fucks to remember me by, I sleep a lot in the plush environment of the forward cabin. Being alone on this flight, I read, watch the two movies, eat too much, and just relax. I relax, that is, when I am not obsessing about what lays ahead in Thailand at Club Seventeen. I also think about how much has happened in my life in a few months. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago that my friends and Ms. Baxter introduced me to and initiated me in BDSM. As I sit here in the plush First-Class Cabin, with the dull roar of the four huge jets pushing me across the Pacific from Hawaii to Japan again, I recall with a secret pleasure and smile my recent memories. I loved my initiation, the whipping while suspended above the deck of the beach house, the fire sticks, the electro-shocks, and the wonderful last night when I was crucified naked on the cross above the dance floor of the club, with skewers through

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