As he led me to the toilet, my legs went very week and he guided me to the bed. I barely could hear him as he said '...perhaps you should lay down and...rest, here let me take your shoes off...' I laid back on the bed as he removed my shows and I could feel him removing my clothes yet I could do nothing to stop him. I tried to speak only to hear him say '...don't worry I'll take really good care of you just relax and let me make you comfortable...' Every fiber in my body rebelled but I could do. No concept of sharing the hurt, of giving pleasure, of listening together to the musical thwump of the flogger, of serving the floggee… It's all academic and selfish, - mutuality is dead, spiritual enjoyment gone….I used to row on the river (at Henley too), and a rhythm of 35 strokes to the minute was regular for me so that's what I look for now, full effort behind every stroke across my bum and back, but who is there out there prepared to go that far ? All the well-built ladies in scanty. More

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