My first masochistic feelings started when I was only 5.  Didn't 
know what these feelings were all about, except that I had this 
strange fascination with my torso and everything about it. I loved 
looking in the mirror at my chest when my shirt was off. Didn't 
think much of my face, but oh how I loved looking at my bare chest. 
Strangely, I always thought of things that could be done to it that 
would hurt.

Even then, I felt pangs of excitement whenever I had the thought of 
somebody hurting my chest, stomach or back, and I used to imagine 
being cut, stepped on or walked on, beaten, and other things that I 
don't remember. These feelings didn't become sexual until I was 7 
when I first discovered masturbation (dry at that time, however). It 
wasn't until I started ejaculating (age 11 or 12) that I started 
thinking about girls. 

Early experiments included hitting myself, dropping heavy items on
my torso, even tightening belts around my stomach and chest so tight 
that it would hurt me to breathe, standing over a vice and tightening
the vice to squish my nipples (great fun, actually).  I'd also position 
myself under heavy furniture so that I could lift one end of the item 
with my arms and then let the legs of the chair, sofa, bed, etc. come 
down to rest on my abdomen, and then I'd lie in that position for as 
long as possible and the pain was totally unbearable.  Never tried to 
have the piano leg rest on my abs, but I sure was tempted to do it.  One 
time I led the foot of the bed rest on my abs for about 30 minutes.  The 
pain was killing me, but I loved it.  Clothespins then and now have been
great chest torture devices, with me putting more than 50 clothespins
on my chest and forcing myself to endure it for a long time.  Of course
on my nipples I double or triple the clothespins over each other for 
extra pressure, and I like heavy duty nipple clamps.  On rare occasions 
(when parents weren't looking) I'd bare my chest in the wintertime, one 
time rolling in the snow with my chest bared. More commonly, when 
nobody was looking, I'd pack snow under my heavy sweaters and jackets 
and shirt, so it would be against my abdomen and back. It gave me a 
sense of excitement.  It was painfully cold, and contrary to what a 
normal person would want, but to me it felt good.  One time I got a 
younger neighbor boy to repeatedly jump and stomp on my chest and 
stomach. I felt silly doing it, yet liked it a lot.  It felt good to 
have someone hurt me in this way.  Yet, being shy, there was way too 
much I didn't do, and regret that I passed up far too many opportunities 
to get beaten up by other kids. I always fantasized about that, and wish 
I'd taken up offers from a couple of guys who wanted to beat me up when 
I was 12 or so.  Had the internet been around then (so I could find 
others who either had pain fantasies or who liked to inflict pain), I am 
sure I would have realized many of my dreams as a teenager.

When I first saw a whipping scene on TV and also read accounts of Navy 
floggings, it all came together for me. Somehow I knew that was for me. 
The guy with his shirt off, arms stretched out and taking the lash was 
who I wanted to be from then on. Sometimes in school I had a hard time 
getting through my assignments as I'd want to keep re-reading the 
flogging accounts, and I was hard and also had pangs of excitement as I 
read them.  A thrilling, feverish feeling came over me whenever I read 
about a flogging.  One time a teacher asked if I was all right as he 
thought I was getting sick as my complexion changed and I was sweating, 
but I was just so struck when reading about a really bloody flogging and 
wishing and imagining that was me.  I never did get through "Tom Sawyer" 
as I couldn't get past the chapter about Tom taking a whipping for Becky 
Thatcher. Oh how I loved that section, and I wore it out and got the 
pages sticky with semen. The concept of taking a whipping for someone 
else became a special turnon for me, and has been all my life. I always 
hoped I could rescue some girl from her punishment and take it on my back 
and chest for her. Great way to start a romance, right? Of course as I 
read those pages, I transformed the whipping in my mind to being on Tom's 
bare back, not his ass. Then I further transformed Tom into myself, and 
Becky into whomever I was interested in at the time, and I'd be in jeans 
and taking the lashes on my bare chest as well as my back.  I would have 
given anything back then to meet someone who would whip or flog my back 
and chest really hard.

My most frequent thoughts were about being a sailor under a very brutal 
skipper who treated his crew harshly. Forced heavy labor.  Forced to work 
(and sleep without blankets) shirtless and barefoot, with only my Levis 
on, regardless of the weather.  And I'd be the nice guy who would cover 
up someone else's crime, and take the punishment myself - twice, one set 
of lashes for the crime, and another for refusing to tell who did it. 
Also had fantasy about being punished with other crewmen, and I'd be last, 
so while I was chained up spread eagle, I'd be able to watch their bodies 
taking a beating, and the blood and welts and bruises, see them flinch 
and hear them scream, all the while anticipating my own painful punishment.  
Many of the statistics I read about flogging over the years have made me 
really excited.  The idea that two dozen lashes with a cat inflicted a 
horrendous punishment, yet some guys were sentenced to 300, 500, 600, 800, 
1000 lashes or more really got my attention (since I've been into heavy 
action myself, I have had the pleasure, and pain, of over 250 lashes on my 
back and also that many on my chest.  Knowing how difficult it was to get 
to 250, only makes me want to try to endure 500 or more in one session).

After seeing a movie (Sea Hawk, I think) about galley slaves, I knew I 
wanted to be one. Being forced to use every muscle to push and pull the 
heavy oars, while in chains, excited me. But the best ones to be were the 
guys closest to the whipmaster, as they got the bloodiest backs.  

Even though I never heard of chest whippings, I so wanted them.  I always 
fantasized that I would take just as much whip on my chest and abs as on 
my back. I always wanted someone to hurt me there as well as on my sides 
and shoulders. I've also had many fantasies where a bunch of guys gang up 
on me and one holds me while others punch me hard in the stomach and pecs, 
and when they're finished beating me up real bad, they chain me up and 
whip me.  One old black and white, silent movie, "The Thief of Bagdad" had 
a scene that really turned me on.  The thief, wearing only pants, was 
suspended horizontally from 4 vertical poles, with chains, and a gang of 
at least 4 men were flogging and beating up his back, chest and sides with 
sticks or canes.  After seeing that scene, many nights I longed to be him.

Over the years I've enjoyed the fantasy of having my abdomen and chest 
stomped on, by sexy women in high heels or boots, as well as by big men 
in heavy boots and even weight lifters lifting weights while standing on 
me.  Great fantasy but it never happened.  Another is the idea of having 
someone use my back or chest for a dartboard.  Crucifixion scenes have 
also turned me on and in addition to nails pounded through my wrists and 
feet, I imagined nails being pounded into my chest and other nails from 
the back of the cross being forced into my back.  Of course one of the 
best parts of a crucifixion fantasy is the scourging or flogging that 
precedes it.  Having my torso used as a punching bag is another favorite 
fantasy.  

Throughout my 20's, 30's and 40's, I longed with all my heart for the 
chance to be whipped, but I thought it would never happen. I didn't know 
who to ask. In my 30's I started whipping myself, with belts (and later 
with electrical cords I had fashioned into whips), and I eventually got 
quite good at it, and made the wire whips such that they'd be very mean 
and painful. But the satisfaction was limited. Better than nothing. Also, 
back in my 30's, my girlfriend and I were very passionate lovers and when 
she came to orgasm, she got so excited that she'd dig her fingernails into 
my back. At first it bothered me, but soon I came to love it. Later when 
she realized she was doing it, she apologized, almost in shock that she 
had done that, and I assured her that I liked it. A few times I even 
prodded her to dig deeper. Often her nails in my back made me cum. That's 
as far as I've ever gone to reveal my masochistic side to her.  She's 
extremely averse to any kind of pain or punishment being inflicted on 
anybody, especially me.  So I feel the need to shield her from a side of 
me that I believe would upset her. She is my life and my soul mate after 
all.

Most of the magazines I saw depicting whipping seemed to show women being 
whipped either by men or other women. Maybe I'm sexist, or maybe it's 
just my fetish, but I'd rather see men taking whippings for women. Even 
better if I take their whippings! While I admire women who take it like a 
man, I tend to feel men should be whipped, not women.  Now, two women
whipping me?  Wow, I'd love it.

I passed my 50th birthday thinking that a real whipping was something I 
could have only in fantasy. The internet changed all that, and now I'm 
making up for lost time and loving every bit of it. I've been extremely 
fortunate with the people who have whipped me, but I am also careful 
whom I trust. So far I've only had one experience that I didn't care for. 
That was a few years ago, and it was because the whipping didn't hurt 
that much or go on for very long. My tolerance of pain seems to be quite 
high, and I like nothing better than having my limits pushed hard. I'd 
rather be whipped too hard and too long than too little. I absolutely 
love severe floggings.  Especially ones that go on for 100's of lashes.  
While I am on the receiving end, I have mixed feelings, but know that it
is my destiny to take harder and harder lashings.  Of all the different 
whips, I think I like cat o'nine tails the best.  Single tails and 
floggers are fine, but there is something so cruel, terrifying and 
devastating about cats that makes me love them.  And I keep looking for 
the perfect cat, and I already have a pretty mean one.  I still whip 
myself when I have to go a while between floggings, but I really do like it 
best when someone works me over well.  When self-whipping. I cannot get the 
leverage to hit myself as hard as I'd like.  I am happy to be flogged by 
male or female, as long as they do it with a very heavy hand.  My favorite 
scenes include wraps--lashes that wrap around my sides or shoulders and 
really dig in and give me good bruises.  Yes, I prefer to be bruised,
marked up well and bloodied.  

I am grateful for these groups on Yahoo as they have opened up a whole 
world for me -- one that I could easily have missed.  Also, I am grateful 
that I live in the San Francisco area where I have a number of people I 
can go to for the kind of flogging I like.

Photos of some of my flogging sessions are in the photo album "jsnaw" 
of the Yahoo group mcpf.  A direct link to them is:

http://photos.groups.yahoo.com/group/mcpf/lst?.dir=/jnsaw/

Many more photos are in my profile photo album at:
http://f1.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/jeans_noshirt_and_whipped/my_photos

Narratives of other sessions and other thoughts I have about flogging
and whipping can be found in the files directory at:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mcpf/files/jnsaw/

Sincerely,
jeans_noshirt_and_whipped