The taming of tinaslut

by tinaslut. © Tina Larsson

Sometimes it happens that I do wonder if I am really normal. Though I know that my submissive character and my lust for pain is by no means unique. There must be millions of women like me in the world. But in some way it seems that I have passed some border which is not acceptable. Even others involved in this lifestyle have tried to explain to me that what I am longing for can be all right as fantasies but warns me not to go too far. At the same time, pain is for me a source of ecstatic pleasure that I could not get in any other way. Surely there are many nutcases around in the world and I am sure that you are only wishing me well by trying to warn me against living out my fantasies. But once you have finally found Him, where everything falls into place... when I have found Him who can play my body with His sensitive fingers like a musician plays his instrument... why would I ever want to go back? My one and only desire is to advance further into this wonderful world of pain and submission in order to experience new sensations.

A psychologist would probably explain my desires by some traumatic experiences in my childhood. I can honestly say that my childhood was one of happiness and harmony without any serious problems. But my secret desires have been with me for as long as I can remember. At first I discovered how much I enjoyed playing Indians and Cowboys with the boys, being captured, tied and "tortured". Many times I would wish that they had gone further but they probably neither had the nerve nor the imagination. We were actually starting to unleashing feelings that many would think would have been better off being suppressed. Our games gave us a perfect alibi. You can imagine that I was dreaming of our games many a night and how they could advance further. At the same time, I had to restrain myself not to go to far. Already then, I realized that I had to be very discreet and as I grew up, my obsession became a very secret part of myself. Dating boys I found just boring as nobody realized what I was longing for and I had no one to talk to about it. Sex in some way felt like a half measure without what I was dreaming of. In all secrecy, I started practising self discipline in my early teens and afterwards, everything felt just so much more meaningless and empty. It was not just a dream. It developed into a craving for pain and humiliation that I neither could or wanted to control. I realized that it had to surface some day. I read everything I could on the subject and when I found 'The Story of O' it was like a revelation to me. I also wrote down many of my secret dreams and desires and mostly I destroyed my notes so that nobody would see them. My entire teens were filled with casual sex contacts that left me cold and a constant feeling of emptiness.

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I feel so utterly sinful as I sense the dew fresh grass under my bare feet with the soft morning breeze caressing my bare sex. The birds are greeting me with their happy singing, welcoming me into a new and wonderful day. The mere sight of the huge, old birch tree and shrubs of switches and wickers fills me with lust and anticipation and I am already wet. I have with me a pair of pruning shears and I collect switches and birch rods, from very slim ones to long and thick ones with sharp, elastic tips. My breathing becomes very heavy as I break one switch after another from the old weeping birch and in my mind I can visualize what is to come. My nipples are stiff and hard and protrudes through the fabric of my thin summer dress. I feel safe that nobody will disturb us. Although I have collected loads of rods and switches, I know that it will be the birch rods from the weeping birch that will hurt the most. As usual you will start birching me with light strokes and long intervals between each stroke, letting the heat spread through my body before you slowly increase the intensity of the birching. The weeping birches have very slender but strong and sharp switches with lots of rock hard buds that have not yet burst into leafs. While the rods and wickers leave good, hard welts and cause a persistent pain, the fine switches of the weeping birch bite sharply into my skin and as you increase the strength and intensity with each stroke, they leave thin bloody streaks on my buttocks and thighs. And I am really burning with lust! Your strokes ignite a fire passion within me and like an athlete high on endorphins, I feel so excited and lusty that I wish this could go on forever. I only want you to chastise me harder…

But you do feel when I have had enough. There comes a time when I am totally high from the pain and excitement and desperate with lust. Then you want to own me. All of a sudden you enter me, your hard thick lance of flesh penetrating me, with the strength of a beast. You take me very hard and brutally. You drive me over the edge to climax again and again while sinking your teeth into my neck, conquering your female. I feel your huge tool pulsating and swelling within me as you are sucking my flesh into your mouth, biting, leaving vivid sucking marks on my neck. I lose all conscience of time and when you finally come within me, we both collapse on the bed, totally exhausted. Now we only want to lay down together, enjoying each others nearness, caressing each others bodies. We have all the time in the world. It is just us and we are happy. I feel purified and content.

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- Tina, my naughty, naughty girl!

I put down all the switches and rods I have collected and get down on my knees before you. A firm grip of my hair and two swift, hard slaps on my cheeks. You are wearing your beautifully ornamented ring which I know will leave marks. You like putting marks on my body and I love you for it. How often am I not standing in front of the mirror, admiring your marks on my skin, longing desperately for you. When we are out on the town together I have to have my shoulders and neck exposed to show the marks of your teeth and lips. It must be shown that this slut has been used thoroughly. You generally will also give me some vivid stripes with a birch rod or a riding crop across my thighs before we go out. I must wear a very short skirt to give the stripes and welts maximum exposure.

The tattoo on my left upper arm was actually there before, but all the other marks on my body have been made by you. When we are taking a bus ride, I must sit in the middle of the seat at the very back row with my legs far apart so that everybody can see my exposed sex. Panties and bras are strictly forbidden when we are out together. Even though most people quickly shy away their eyes there are some, especially older people, who cannot disguise their disgust. Sofar, nobody has said anything, though. There may even be those who find the sight exciting, as they lay their eyes upon my welts and marks.

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Now I am in a state of ecstacy. I am standing on all fours, swaying my back and you are wearing out one switch after another from the beautiful weeping birch on my nude bottom and thighs. You whip me faster and harder all the time so that your arm soon looks totally blurred. I feel the switches biting through my skin, sobs, cries and beg you not to stop, to continue chastising me. When I finally feel your strong hands gripping my hips and your hard tool penetrating me, I can feel blood trickle down my thighs. You thrust into me hard and deep, like a piston. When your warm semen is spurting into me, I feel your teeth biting into my neck, as a final conquering gesture. When I lay on my stomach with your body upon me, I am totally exhausted by all the orgasms I have had and the enormous strain. My body is burning with pain and yet I am longing for a good taste of your birch again. I am yours and I beg you to use me as much as you want and can. Please whip me more, Master… harder… much harder…