This is a print version of story 23 Lashes For The Defiant Slut! by Ima_Kant from

23 Lashes For The Defiant Slut!

‘Strip to the waist… it is time for your flogging.’ I command her.

I do not want to punish her rather would I be tender with her, protect her, but with a slut to be cruel is to be kind… it is, sadly, the only language they understand.

She lowers her blue eyes submissively then, without uttering a word, lifts her self up from the sofa. She is silent because she fears the pain and loathes the humiliation but she has no one to blame but herself – she chose to disobey me.

She unbuttons slowly her pin striped shirt and I watch as strands of her long auburn hair fall around her face partially obscuring her pretty features. Her shirt unfastened she slips it off and places it neatly upon the back of the arm chair.

She is tall for a female, perhaps five feet six, and willowy.

She gazes at me forlornly for a second - it will not save her - as she casts off her black bra.

She is topless now, as is required for a whipping, and her delicious firm breasts exposed.

I stand up, move behind her and grasp the tops of her bare arms: ‘I am going to take you to the place where you will receive your punishment.’ I inform her gently but resolutely.

‘Thank you.’ She responds in a hushed and resigned tone.

I guide her out of my flat into the chill landing, I know she hates it but she has no option other than to submit, and order her to stand facing the wall with her arms at her sides.

I return to my flat and retrieve the flogger from my implement drawer. I then walk back slowly onto the landing. She knows that shortly, very shortly, she will be wracked with pain.

‘You will press your chest and stomach hard against the wall and raise your arms above your head laying your palms flat also against the wall. You will stay in this position till I am done with you… unless you relish extra strokes?’

‘I understand.’ She acknowledges meekly.

I observe her comply with my instructions and wince slightly as her bare flesh makes contact with cold white plaster.

I walk up behind her and place my hands, with flogger in my right hand, gently upon her hips. I put my mouth to her ear and whisper to her: ‘I do not want to do this but you f***e it upon me. Did I not say to you last weekend: 'Do not smoke more than twenty cigarettes from Friday morn to Monday morn because I will lash you for each one over.'… and did you not defy me… how many was it my dear?’

‘I smoked forty three… twenty three over… I am sorry, truly sorry.’

‘I am sorry too my love… but it will not save you.’ I whisper back detecting the trembling of her body now taut with fear.

I bring the whip round to the side of her face: ‘What tastes better… the taste of a cigarette… or the taste of leather? Kiss it.’

She turns her head and kisses the tails of the whip. I take it away and move back. She is just seconds away from savouring the true taste of the whip.

I glance at her elegantly formed naked back, her pale unmarked flesh and her slim legs 'poured' into her long black trousers and see her writhing in agony, her skin laced with ribbons of crimson.

I draw back my arm and with the flogger gripped firmly in my hand bring the first of twenty three lashes, delivered without mercy, down upon her bare back…

Story URL: