For every phase of my torture, for every area of my body that is to be whipped, I must ask for it; to make me a willing accomplice, no, an instigator,...of the torture that will fall upon me. I can barely speak, but I must; otherwise I may hang here until the morning. I gather whatever willpower I can muster."Please whip my back" I hear myself say.The bullwhip cracks. It hits just below my neck, across my shoulders. The tip flicks the side of my right armpit. It hurts like hell. I scream. He. And that was really helping me relax.As her guests came and I welcomed them in and got them drinks, Bethwhispered to me about my outfit. "A jumper Beth? Really? Wouldn't acocktail dress have been a little more appropriate?" I just smiled,knowing that I was dressing how I wanted to and irking her just forspite. (The thought went through my head, 'this is how girls get back ateach other').Her guests all loved my eggplant parmesan with cooked baby carrots andciabatta bread, lapping it up and. More

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