My Life In Leather: The Kiss of The Whip

From: Queer Click

We got some beer and went off to the patio to socialize, and that's where the flogging was taking place. From the way I had seen it in the porn movies and the sticky issues of Drummer Magazine I used to keep hidden away in my bedroom, I always figured this sort of thing happened in dark dungeons, late at night, hidden away. But here we were out in the sunshine with people chatting away at the other end of the patio and people coming and going as if nothing much was going on. But a few of us stood there watching. I don't remember if anyone else was as transfixed as I was because at that moment, in my mind, there wasn't anyone else around. Just the Master, the slave, and me.

If you've never seen a flogger, it's an implement with a handle that has several strips of leather attached. The Master was all decked out in leather chaps over his skin tight jeans, a leather vest and a muir cap perched on his sexy shaved head. He had a commanding presence just standing there but once he started working that flogger he seemed to exude strength and power. The first thing I noticed was the loud thud the flogger made as it hit the slave's back. I remember thinking that I could never imagine myself allowing someone to hit me with one of those things. Little could I guess it would one day become one of my favorite forms of play. I watched as the intensity of the flogging increased. A drunk jackass next to me started yelling "hit him harder, harder, harder" and someone shut him up by saying "you wanna be next?" But the Master didn't let anything distract him. He seemed to know exactly where he wanted the slim leather straps to land, licking about the slave's back, leaving great swaths of reddened skin in it's wake. He'd smack that sexy bubble butt a few times but it was clear that the back was like a landscape to him and he was exploring every inch of it. He was very careful to keep the flogger from wrapping around the slave's body, or to get too close to his head. It seemed to be a combination of strong arms, wielding control of the handle as he flicked his wrists, and sheer power of will, when the ends of the leather strips would lightly graze the skin. After a while I started to notice the body language of the slave. While his mouth was moaning and yelling, seemingly in time with the thwack of leather against skin, his back would arch outward, almost as if reaching out to meet the oncoming onslaught.

After a while, when it would get to be too much, he'd angle inward and the most miraculous thing would occur. Now, keep in mind, the only other times I had seen a flogging were in biblical movies I'd seen as a child where a roman soldier would be torturing someone, or in porn videos where it often only lasted a few minutes before the fucking started. So I was not really prepared for what was to happen next. The Master set his flogger aside and gently ran his fingers down the reddened skin of the slave's back. His touch must have felt like electricity from the way the slave flinched and moaned. Then the Master reached around the slave's body and held him in a warm embrace. It was so sensual and erotic, a totally different image than the thrashing, moaning and yelling from moments before. There was something very beautiful in that moment. Then, in unspoken agreement, the Master pulled back, reached out for his flogger, and began again. This happened about three or four times, and each time the Master started back slowly, as if driving a car down a long onramp to a freeway, building in speed before actually hitting the flow of interstate traffic. And once he got going the energy between the two of them was so thick in the air you could practically see it. This wasn't one man hitting another, it was two men both giving and taking, pushing and pulling, in and out. And finally, as sweat splashed off of the Master's body with each swipe, and the moans and screams of the slave grew to an unearthly howl, the two hit what can only be described as an orchestral crescendo. It was like watching two of the hottest men fuck and both reach orgasm at the same time. And then the Master, for the last time that afternoon, set aside his flogger and gently embraced his slave as he sobbed quietly for about ten minutes. Without the slave even being aware, he released the restraints, turned the slave to face him, and the two simply embraced as if there was nobody in the universe except the two of them. Well, the two of them and me. I couldn't help it. I wouldn't dare invade their personal space but I couldn't help but get caught up in this incredible scene. And I knew then, that I had to try it for myself.

People assume a great deal when they find out you're into S&M. Someone once told me "you must really love pain". Well, the truth is no. Believe me, I don't exactly spring a boner when I stub my toe. And you don't want to be anywhere near me when I get a paper cut unless you want to hear exactly what I think of your mother even thought I've never met her and I'm sure she's a very nice lady. The thing to remember is that pain is something that tells your body that something is wrong. If you feel pain, then you might be in danger. This causes your body to react by producing endorphins to help your body deal with the pain long enough for you to escape whatever it is that is causing you the pain. Our natural reaction to pain is fear. What is hurting us? Do we need to fight it or get away from it? How do we deal with it? But take away the fear and you find that pain is nothing more than sensation. A sensation that floods your body with endorphins. So this might come as a bit of a shock to you, but that same endorphin high that people get from running long distances, jumping out of planes, playing sports or working out is the same kind of rush that people into BDSM are after. Although for us, it's got a highly sexual and sensual connotation to it.

A few years after watching the Master and slave couple on the patio of that leather bar I had my first flogging. It was part of a scene that lasted several hours that I will write more about later, but once I had a taste I was hooked. Eventually I became friends with a man who was very experienced in the ways of BDSM and he invited me over for a play session. He put my wrists into the restraints and spread my body across the St. Andrew's Cross. He started slowly, spinning the floggers so that they lightly kissed my back. Little by little the intensity grew until I heard that same thud that I'd heard those few years ago, only this time I had the feeling to go with it. I can't say I went as long as the scene I'd witnessed but it was no less dramatic and emotional for me. And yes, his fingers did feel like electricity when caressing my reddened back. And yes, I did cry. But not for reasons you might think. Something happens to you when you go through a scene like this. When those heavy leather straps pound on your back over and over again you can't think about anything else. If your mind strays just the slightest bit, the next thud is only seconds away. It keeps you in the present. And in a way, it makes you confront things you normally find ways to distract yourself from. It's not something that you can put into words, but your body unleashes emotions you've had locked inside. At the time, I was going through a lot and something about this unrelenting pounding of my being rattled loose things I'd been holding on to. I processed the pain as best I could but when it got to be too much my friend stopped and just held me. The endorphins were rushing through my body and my emotions were out of control. I cried but couldn't tell you a single reason why, yet when I was done I felt like I'd confessed everything that had ever been wrong in my life and hod gotten it all off my chest. It was incredibly freeing. And then I felt like I was floating on clouds. We lay naked on the bed for what seemed like hours. We cuddled and joked and laughed. I suppose if we had a more serious connection we could have fucked each other's brains out, but he was a friend simply taking me on a journey. And it's a journey I've taken many times since.