Bondage Blog

Here’s a fictional account of an abolitionist lady tied and switched by southern “gentlemen”, from the erotic novel “The Memoirs of Dolly Morton”:

‘Very well’ said Stevens ‘Bill, you run to the barn and fetch the ladder. Pete and Sam, you go and cut a couple of good long springy hickory switches and trim then ready for use!’

I watched, terrified, as the ladder and switches were brought, then all the men went into the garden. The ladder was fixed in a sloping position against the rail of the veranda and Stevens took up position near it, holding one of the switches in his hand, while all the other men stood around in a tight circle so all would have a perfect view of what was going to be done.

‘Bring out the prisoners!’ said Stevens.

Some of the men took hold of us by the arms and led us out of the veranda to receive our cruel and indecent punishment. I was trembling and crying but Miss Dean was calm and silent. Stevens said to her:

‘As you are the boss you will be whipped first. Tie her up boys!’

She was seized by two men and laid upon the ladder, her arms being stretched to their full extent above her head, her wrists tied with thick cord to the rungs of the ladder, then her ankles secured in the same way. She had not made the least resistance nor had she uttered a word while being tied up but now she turned her head and, looking over her shoulder at Stevens, said:

‘Can you not at least whip me without removing my clothes?’

‘Nope..certainly not!’ he replied ‘You wuz sentenced to be whipped on your bare bottom and that’s what you’re gonna get! Turn up her clothes, boys!’
…
I was being held by two men close to the ladder and thus was a witness to the full shame of her unveiling. Miss Dean was tall and slim with slight build. Her hips were very narrow and her bottom very small, but it was round, well shaped and fairly plump. Her thighs and legs were well formed though slender, and her skin a delicate ivory tint, smooth and fine in texture.

The men pressed closer to the ladder, and I could see their eyes glint with desire as they stared at Miss Dean’s naked buttocks. Stevens, after gazing for a few moments, exclaimed with a laugh:

‘Je-ru-salem! What a tiny bottom she’s got! It aint no bigger than a boy’s! Darn it men, perhaps she IS a boy!’

It was meant for a joke. It amused them and they all laughed, one man calling out:

‘Well Jake, you are in the right place to find out if she’s a woman or not!’

‘Why so I can, now that you mention it’ drawled Stevens, affecting to be surprised by the suggestion. Then he thrust his hand between her legs.

Miss Dean flinched convulsively, uttered a startled cry , then looked round with an expression of disgust on her face. Eyes flashing she exclaimed:

‘How dare you touch me there! Take your hand away! Just whip me and let me go!’

She writhed and twisted in anguish but Stevens kept his hand in the cleft of her thighs , saying with a coarse laugh:

‘She’s a woman sure enough, boys! I got my hand right on her hairy slit!’

Then he said to the outraged woman:

‘My hand won’t hurt you. But if you make any more complainin’ you’ll find something bigger and harder between your legs! Now I’ll get on and flog you right away and its my guess you’ll soon be begging for something else instead!’

He withdrew his hand and Miss Dean ceased to struggle, her head drooped once more and she lay silently awaiting her shameful punishment.

Stevens raised the switch and flicked it about, so as to make it hiss through the air, then he brought it down with considerable force across the upper part of her bottom; the tough hickory spray making a sharp crack as it struck the firm flesh which quivered involuntarily under the stinging stroke.