‘How many?’ I asked, nervously.

’Fifty,’ announced, Bill.

’Fifty!’ I exclaimed, my eyes wide open, at hearing him say this, ‘You can’t, I’ll die.’

Bill followed this quickly, by saying, ‘Ah indeed I can, and I very much doubt you will.’

He added, ‘I have never given fifty strokes before, but then I have never had to deal with somebody you before!’

‘Brace yourself!’

I knelt on the cushion, still trembling, bit my bottom lip, and waited for the first of my fifty lashes…

Three days earlier, I had agreed to take part in a long BDSM session with Bill Cameron, an older dominant, who was a long-time member of the adult club I had joined with my boyfriend at the time, Dan.

At twenty-five years old, I was well into the adult club scene, despite now finding myself, unexpectedly single.

By this point in my life, I had experienced many threesomes with guys, two amazing gang bangs, as well as being caned, by various male members of the club, during sessions in the club's playrooms.

I wanted to experience anything and everything, sexually, and was well into the lifestyle.

Back to the start of those three days with Bill. He told me he wanted me to spend a long weekend at his large house in North London. Bill was a photographer and had his own home-built studio, where he took on freelance photography shoots for various magazines, mostly to do with the adult BDSM scene. In his basement, he had a well-equipped playroom, kitted out to resemble a bondage and punishment room.

Looking back, and having since seen the film, it closely resembled that of Mr. Grey from the movie ‘Fifty shades of Grey.’

Bill said, he wanted to take some erotic photos of me in my underwear, with stockings and suspenders, before he, and a select group of dominant associates, would enjoy punishing me in his playroom together.

However, on the day of the planned shoot, Bill caught me on my knees, giving two of his friends a blow-job, before we had even started with the shoot.

He told me he thought I was a dirty little slut, and how disappointed he was at me being so openly brazen, with two of his friends.

I remember standing there, looking guilty, a stand of cum, dripping from my lips, as Bill scolded me.

For the shoot, I had worn a black bra, matching suspenders, and a black thong. With these, I added a pair of dark grey, sheer-seamed stockings, and black high heels. That morning I had curled my hair, as requested by Bill. He was pleased with my look but very diss-pleased with my behaviour that first morning.

Bill told me to wait upstairs in the studio and to not touch any of the equipment, so I sheepishly climbed the stairs in my heels, my satin robe wrapped around me, the taste of his two friends' spunk, still fresh in my mouth.

Inside Bill's studio, it was bright and airy. He had already set up two soft-box light sources and his Mamiya camera was on its tripod. I knew how these worked, but due to my time spent with Mark (Lazycalm56) and feeling naughty still, I decided to try and take some photos of myself, posing in front of the mirrored wall at the side of the studio.

I switched on the lights and the slave units, checked the camera had film inside, set the self-timer, and then began posing as the camera took the first few photos. I posed holding one of Bill's black leather floggers in my hand, letting the tails of the flogger drop over my shoulder sluttily as I posed for each photo.

After only a few minutes, however, Bill suddenly burst into the studio. I scampered over to where my satin robe lay on the floor and muttered an apology to him.

‘What are you doing in here?’ he asked, angrily. He was quickly followed by one of his older friends, who was holding a video camera. He began filming this interaction between myself and Bill.

‘Mr. Cameron, nothing, nothing,’ I lied.

‘You call this nothing?’ he said.

Nervously, I said, ‘I was just taking some pictures.’

‘You have no business being in here,’ he replied, still as angry as before.

‘I’m sorry, I was just taking some pictures for my fans,’ I said.

‘Your fans! he said, ‘I don't care about your fans, I care about you doing the job we have paid you for.’

Bill and I had agreed beforehand, to involve some role-play, for the day, so I assumed this was all part of it.

He reached down and picked up the leather flogger I had been holding and posing with for the photos.

‘What do you call this then?’ he asked.

‘I thought it would look sexy and match my underwear,’ I replied.

Bill waved the flogger at me, then said, ‘This is not the sort of thing we want to associate our company with, this is a highly inappropriate use of company property.’

‘I am sorry,’ I said.

‘All I get from you is aggregation, you are driving me mad, mad!’ he added.

‘I am sorry,’ I said once more.

‘Well you are going to have to pay the price, I will give you a choice, you have a choice, you can either be fired from this studio, or you will have to take a whipping,’ he explained.

I cocked my head to one said, then said, ‘Well I guess I’ll have to take a whipping.’

Bill stared at me and gestured for me to say it differently.

‘Please may I have a whipping?’ I asked.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

Off camera, for a brief moment, Bill told me he would force me to orgasm, during the whipping. I told him, ‘No way, no way.’

‘Oh yes way, June, I guarantee you will at some point,’ he replied.

His friend with the camera, then resumed filming, as bill instructed me to remove my satin robe, then kneel on a cushion he had left on the floor.

Nervously I complied with his instructions, as he stood behind me, holding the flogger in his hands.

‘How many?’ I asked, nervously.

’Fifty,’ announced, Bill.

’Fifty!’ I exclaimed, my eyes wide open, at hearing him say this, ‘You can’t, I’ll die.’

Bill followed this quickly, by saying, ‘Ah indeed I can, and I very much doubt you will.’

He added, ‘I have never given fifty strokes before, but then I have never had to deal with somebody you before!’

‘Brace yourself!’

I knelt on the cushion, still trembling, bit my bottom lip, and waited for the first of my fifty lashes…