Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"
It's just like Boris to start the fun without me. Of-course, it is quite understandable. Ever since Marco became a ward under our, shall I say, 'care', neither one of us has been able to concentrate on anything but the beautiful muscle boy. Over the past few weeks we have devoted all, and I mean, all of our attention on Marco. This 'attention' hasn't always been exactly what Marco was accustomed to getting before he was placed in my father's custody; in-fact, I don't think Marco could have ever dreamed in his worst nightmares what kind of 'attention' he'd be subject to. I suppose if he ever paid much attention to those history classes where the subject of slavery was discussed, then he would have had a fairly close idea of what his life has now become. But even in those few pages that described how slaves were treated, it never described anything close to resembling what Marco's life is as a slave!
Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"
From the sound of it as I descend the stairs into the basement, I can tell that Boris is using one of those vicious, 6 ft long, 2 inch wide leather whips, one of our favorites since they make such a loud crack when they connect with Marco's hard, muscled body of teenaged beauty. Also, I can tell that Boris decided to choose the spinning St. Andrew's Cross; we refer to it as "flying flagellation." When we want to provoke an especially strong reaction of total dread from Marco, we say something like this, "If you don't work harder in the fields today, I think you'll just have to get some 'flying flogging' time." Marco knows from horrible experience exactly what that will mean.
Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"
I can hear the high whine of the motor which means Boris has set it on one of the fastest speeds, probably around 50 mph, which means that Marco is spinning at 30 revolutions per minute; that's one full spin in 2 seconds flat! THINK ABOUT THAT. The force on his naked body is incredibly painful as the tightly drawn shackles on his ankles and wrists are barely able to contain his whirling 6 ft. body of muscle and brawn. He can't focus on anything; in-fact everything becomes a horrifying blur and makes him so dizzy that he always throws-up. We've been thinking of gagging him, but can't quite come to giving up listening to his agonizing screams. The screams, of-course, are a result of not only this hideous machine, but the painful hard lashes of the whip. There's no way to aim at an accurate target, so we generally just flail away somewhere between his chest and lower legs using a fast and very hard fore and back hand swing that tends to slash the body in an erratic whipping. His _c_o_c_k_ and balls get a particular hard time of it since his long _c_o_c_k_ and the ballcollared testicles are constantly slapping violently against his body. The whip slamming into his 'horse_c_o_c_k_ and balls' creates and even more painful effect as he wails away begging us to:
"Pleaseee stop Masterrrr!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh, Ohhh Goddd!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh, Pleaseee!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!" Whoossshhhhh! Whoossshhhhh! Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh, Nooo more, Sirrr, Pleaseee!" Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"
"Are you learning, boy, that when you drop a plate that it's going to mean a long flying flogging session?" Boris yells out. I know, of-course, that the plate Boris was referring to had been intentionally lathered in oil, and that Margo in his hurry to put the many dinner dishes away in the in the 2 minute allotted time period, couldn't help but drop it. It was just another delightfully wicked ruse that Boris and I so often create just so we can find an excuse to torture Marco; it's all part of the game!
Let's take, for example, this morning and how it has lead up to Marco being punished again. There we were in the plantation dining room. As always, Boris and I were having a very leisurely breakfast of scrumptious food; the flavorful aroma filled the air. And though neither one of us actually spoke to Marco nor even gave the impression that we were in the slightest way mindful of his presence, his existence was now our total focus in life. It's sort of like being on stage in front of an audience; the characters speak their lines to one another, but actually the words are directed at and focused solely for the spectators. Our audience, however, consists of one person, Marco; our discussion is solely for his benefit. And that's how it unfolded in this morning's Act 1:
MARCO: DAILY WHIPPING # 1
"What is that strange noise, Edgar?" Boris states with a wink of the eye. "I know that whatever it is, it's beginning to irritate me" I can barely contain myself as I realize that we have yet another of hundred of excuses to focus our sadistic attention on 'muscle boy.'
"I believe, Boris, that it's coming from him" indicating, of-course, Marco. We never call him by his name, but generally refer to him as "Boy."
We both turn towards Marco who is standing not more than 3 feet away at the head of the table. Marco has been taught that he must always stand in our presence, excepting, of-course, when he's in bondage or hanging from chains and the like (which, by-the-way, he is on a daily basis). Marco has also been taught that when standing near his masters he must never be out of our reach. The reach I am referring to is the length of a whip, strap, belt, you name it. For, you see, we always have one of these nasty bits of leather at hand at all times. For example, on the dining room table lays a rather frightening-looking strap. It's approximately 3 feet long of which 6 inches is a thick handle that holds together a 3 inch wide black leather strap that's folded in a way a belt would be. In other words, it's ready to strike; you just grab the handle and, POW! It's so convenient. If Marco does something, like the annoying growl of his empty stomach or if he isn't quite maintaining the proper pose then we just take the strap and give him a whipping.
Marco immediately tenses as we both look at him. He, of-course, is completely naked for he is never allowed clothes; nothing comes between us and his magnificently muscled body; clothes, blankets, nothing, ever. He appears to be in the proper position. When standing 'relaxed', Marco must hold the following pose: His head must be facing straight, eyes level (he can not look at us unless told to do so); his incredibly wide shoulders are all the more accentuated since he must have them in a fully flexed position, which means that he must have his shoulders down, pulled wide and slightly forward, causing his long, incredibly wide lats to flare way out at his sides, the 'cobra' look (Marco has a lat spread that a professional bodybuilder would lust; starting from his armpits the flare measures 8 INCHES, tapers down surrounding and highlighting his ribs and ending in a tight tuck on his super cut obliges, yet the actual width of the lat muscles is less then 3 INCHES THICK! ). This, of-course forces his arms out as well, and they must be fully tensed with his biceps and, especially his triceps flexed (we must be able to see the complete 'horseshoe' of the triceps). With his fists turned under, his forearms must also be flexed. Marco's chest must be held high and flexed; we must be able to see the all the striations in his pecs. His abs, those glorious muscles, must be pulled into a full vacuum (this is particularly difficult to maintain even for Marco, but it gives us the excuse to whip him, so who cares, right)! Marco must have his hips also flexed; in other words we must be able to see the deep cuts where the upper thigh attach to the groin on either side of his _c_o_c_k_ and balls. The leg muscles must be flared out so Marco must have his heels touching with feet angled out, thus allowing him to bend slightly at the knees and completely flex his legs. All those diamond shaped muscles in his thigh and quads must be seen. In this position Marco's back is extra wide with all the ridges of muscle clearly showing. And, ofcourse, his delicious ass must be fully flexed as well. All total, in the 'relaxed' position, Marco is flexing nearly all his muscles, all the time. Should be let his legs relax, he is whipped. If he can't quite keep his stomach pulled up under his ribs (we must not be able to see the highest row of his abdominals since they tuck in under his ribcage) then he will be whipped.
For Marco, with all his marvelous strength and natural muscularity, to hold the 'relaxed' pose for an entire meal (normally one hour in length) requires intense concentration and power. He invariably fails at some point and then he is whipped. These posing offenses usually mean a mere 10 maybe 15 hard lashes and he generally re-offends 6 or 7 times a day, so it's rare that he would receive more than 100 lashes for these offenses each day. But when you consider that he is whipped routinely for other offenses (breathing too loud, stomach growls, floor boards cheek when he walks, etc.) then we are talking at least a couple hundred lashes a day, and that's not including his daily torture sessions for major offenses (e. g. not working hard enough in the fields, stopping to wipe the sweat off his brow, not running fast enough between the fields and the plantation, not running fast enough when pulling Boris and me in the rickshaw, not completing all his daily exercises such as 1000 sit-ups, 100 pushups with me laying on his back, 30 pull-ups me wrapped around his torso, etc.). Generally, in the evening, well after dinner and perhaps after a long torture session, Marco is required to practice his posing. These sessions are particularly enjoyable for Boris and me since we seem to get even more horny watching Marco flex all his different muscles. We, of-course, have favorite poses that we order Marco to perform. Boris likes the biceps poses, especially the double biceps from the back and the back lat spread. I tend to favor the chest poses and, of-course, the abs. In order for us to get satisfied we generally have Marco pose for about an hour a day and encourage him to "Hold that pose" with our whips.