The Beautiful Flagellants of Chicago [The Flagellants Trilogy]
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Category: Erotica/Classic Erotica
Description: In this long-banned 1907 chronicle of scandalous goings-on behind-the-scenes of turn-of-the-century America has been acclaimed as an erotic and literary classic and an important historical document. Supposedly penned by Lord Drialys, a peer of the British realm, on a tour of the U.S., the book makes clear just how widespread and deeply-rooted the pleasures and practice of bondage always has been in this country. In the course of his travels, Drialys visited three great metropolises, Chicago, Boston, and New York, and through his contacts discovered the underground world of the caned and caner alive and well in each. Drialys wrote a separate book about his experiences in each of these cities, the celebrated Flagellants Trilogy. In Volume I, set in what Chicago (which he calls Porkopolis), Lord Drialys finds himself the subject of birchings by several refined, handsome ladies. In Volume II, he visits Mrs. Palmerston of Boston, and other leaders of the town's aristocratic Puritan blue bloods, who induct him into the Flagellant's Club, where he plies the cane on a group of well-bred, wealthy women. In Volume III, all his dreams come true amid New York's 1900 caning scene.
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, 2004
eBookwise Release Date: October 2004
1 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [145 KB]
Reading time: 87-121 min.
As soon as I was manly enough to freely frequent any female I fancied, my love of flagellation, so far only a dream, blossomed into tangibility.
In the lounge of one of the principal Parisian variety halls, I became acquainted with a fine-looking, haughty brunette who at first sight made a deep impression on me.
A born Parisienne, having first seen the light in the outlying district of La Chapelle, she had started life as an apprentice to a manufacturing jeweller, before trying to sell her charms to the highest bidder. Despite her humble beginning, she was one of those heroines Sacher-Masoch loved to depict. It is not indispensible that a woman should come into the world in a sumptuous castle of the so-called blue Danube to posses an ardent and imperious disposition.
This splendid dark woman bearing the prosaic name of Julie, might have been a twin sister to some cruel Wanda, or terrible Sarolta dear to my favorite novelist. Julie's obscure birth and early workshop career did not prevent her carrying herself like a true patrician dame and even in her most tender, yielding moments, her manner was brutally despotic. She was selfish while enjoying carnal conjonction, and full of pride. I was quite stirred by her overbearing moods.
I should never have dared to have approached her on the subject of flogging, if I had not accidentally discovered that she was a fervent expert in this salacious science. Entering her bedroom one day unannounced, I caught her with a long, flexible birch in her hand, and she deftly hid the whipping implement as she saw me. The revelation came upon me like a clap of thunder, and mastering my emotion as best I could, I asked her huskily how it was she had a rod in her possession.
"Does that surprise you, my dear boy?" she replied. "I love to whip men!"
Her words rang in my ears like celestial chimes, and my joy ws so immense that I felt as if I was going to faint.
Without speaking, I lead the young cocotte to the corner where she had hidden her magic wands.
"Oh, I know what you are going to say!" she explained. "It's very funny, but I guessed your feelings the first time you had me. I was awfully astonished when you came to see me often and never unburdened yourself about your sweet mania. You're in luck's way to-day, for you've no idea how excited I am! Only handling that bunch of twigs that I've got ready for one of my gentleman friends who ought to have been here an hour ago, has made me feel as wicked and barbarous as possible! Come, darling, let that rod of mine writhe like a living thing on your stout bottom! Make haste, I entreat you!"
Never waiting for my reply, she began tearing my clothes off my back. When I stood naked before her, she slipped out of her dressing-gown, the only garment veiling the secrets of her delicious body, and like a madwoman, the fascinating flogging harlot threw herself upon me, pinching my flesh with both hands, and making her teeth almost meet in the nipples of my breast and the muscles of my arms.
Clutching the rod with her right hand, she enlaced me with her legs and her left arm, squeezing me in a vice-like grip, in such a way as to present my plump young bum most advantageously to the approach of her blows which she rained down furiously.
Flooded by the fiery waves of her frenzied birching cuts; electrified by the close contact of her firm flesh, I writhed and twisted in an infinite lewd spasm of wild enjoyment. Her frame followed the movements of mine, as she still held me clasped to her, unceasingly applying with sure hand and great skill a series of stinging cuts causing atrocious pain. The elastic birch rebounded like a metal spring, and its hissing ends always touched upon the same sensitive spots just at the lower part of my bottom, at the top of my thighs. My twin hinder cheeks quivered and trembled at the incandescent kisses of the supple instrument of torturing passion.
Making a desperate effort to escape from the fatal embrace, and avoid the awful stinging stripes, I fell, turning right over, dragging my implacable dominating mistress with me.
With one bound, she sprang to her feet, and throwing her whole weight--that of a tall, fine woman--upon me, she bent one knee on the nape of my neck, seizing my arm in her nervous hand. She had thus found a posture that suited her; where she had full command over my backside, and so she kept on striking at it, never stopping.
"I must flog you! I must! I must!" she cried, and her words burnt into my brain, as she accompanied her exclamation with formidable blows.
A prisoner under her precious, but inexorable yoke, I felt the full force of her descending blows, as I shuddered all over. I yelled with the pain of her attack, but she occupied an inexpugnable position and profited by it to keep on birching me, covering my bruised buttocks with a never-ending shower of fearful strokes.
She only stopped when the rod failed her. Half its branches were broken, and littered every part of her room. Throwing away the remains of her birch, Julie fell upon me like a wild beast, shaking me and biting me, until at last she forced upon my eager, willing mouth the dewy rosebud of her sex which opened itself and palpitated beneath my moist kiss and titillating tongue.
The furious copulation that followed transported us in heavenly ecstasy, taking our senses away in a reciprocal swoon of delight. I left her dwelling, with a staggering walk resembling that of a drunkard, my backside afire from the bristling twigs, and my flesh tingling from the insensate joy of our delirious bout of love.
I had discovered the divinity I longed for. She showered upon me the sweet warm rain of voluptuous sensual enjoyment. Many a time and oft did I howl and rave under the adorable pain of Julie's bewitching birch.
Thus it was that my lecherous love for voluptuous flagellation took a thoroughly defined shape in my mind, and possessed me for ever. As time went on, I found out other clever torturing beauties, among courtesans as well as in the ranks of the most aristocratic ladies of high standing in Parisian society.