By Raybound
Jed and myself were relaxing in the sitting room. It was the day after the judicial whipping, and I was still very sore. Jed had treated me very well in the aftermath of my beating with the sjambok. He had dressed my wounds after having treated them with an antiseptic ointment. Nevertheless I had spent a somewhat restless night, sleeping on my stomach to avoid any unnecessary pressure on my buttocks that still throbbed from the beating.
“The film is just great,” Jed told me, saying that he had watched my beating several times and shared it with a few friends who were all very complimentary about the content.
“I thought that you might pass out towards the end. You were squealing like a stuck pig. I will advertise it on a few sites for fifty bucks a throw. Should go down a storm. Lots of guys like to watch rough stuff.”
