Do you whip, my dear?

 

Silence by Nuit d'Or ©2012

..."Until blood flows, my darling"….

"It's the most delicious passion I know of; none surer to inflame my entire being'….Harshly to inflict upon her this form of torture, all the characteristic are whereof so emphatically voluptuous, to be excited by her distress, amused by her tears, irritated by her capers, inflamed by her writhings, by that voluptuous dancing performed to the music of pain, to make her blood flow, her sweat, tears, to feast upon them, upon her pretty face to mark and exult at contortions of sufferings and the twitching caused by despair, with one's tongue to lap up those floods incarnadine so nicely contrasting with the lily fairness of soft white skin, to feign relent for an instant only to inspire terror the next by threats, to carry them out, and in doing so, to use yet more outrageous and more atrocious means, to spare nothing in your rage…. Oh Juliette! That is Joy! "       

Madame de Clairvil to Juliette in "Juliette"  from the Marquis de Sade