This is the Strip the Willow that I knew:
Strip the Willow
I adore dancing, especially the kind that is organized in groups where you know what you're supposed to be doing, rather than just flailing around on a dance floor (although I can and will flail if I have to). Strip the Willow is a great dance because you end up completely dizzy and hanging on to partners for dear life to hold you up, even without drinking. With drinking, ho boy!
However, yesterday I experienced a different type of willow stripping. A couple of weeks ago my Master told me he was going to have me cut him a willow switch. This was just in a "by the way" manner, not an order to go cut one now.
So finally yesterday I went to the woods and broke off a branch about 4 feet long, 1/4 inch thick, and got a knife to strip off the bark.
I had mixed feelings, sitting there on the porch, stripping bark and whittling off sharp knobby bits while I watched the sheep grazing in the yard. I couldn't tell if I was feeling happy to be doing something my Master wanted done, worried because I knew what he was going to do with the switch, or tingly excited because I knew what he was going to do with the switch. Some of each, I guess.
When Master got home he was quite taken with his new toy, and during our evening movie he used it intermittently to lightly slap my ass, flanks, inner thighs and cunt. After the movie he told me to lean over the couch arm and gave me some stinging welts on the butt and backs of my thighs. The tip broke off the stick, but it held together in the main part.
It is good. :)
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