non-consensual flogging

We only wanted to have fun.

We wanted to experience a cultural celebration called 'Carnival'.  It is a month long celebration of Dominican Republic independence.

We took a chartered bus to La Vega with locals for the excursion.  That was fun.

The people we traveled with were lovely.  One man, whom I'm sure is in the closet, needed a hairband for his braids.  I obliged.

Moments later, he gave me his bracelet, simply because I told him I liked it.

There was singing and carrying on, and of course an en route visit to an outhouse so I could practise my Dominican squat.

When we arrived, I noticed vendors selling footballs of varying colours, filled with water giving them solid pressure.  I couldn't understand what they were for, so I simply shook my head when anyone tried to sell me one.

Many people had them, but to me they seemed pointless, until we meandered through the crowd, and I would randomly be hit in the ass by them.

It really hurt and I was stinging from the floggings within minutes of arriving there.

But it was time to go to the parade where my eyes were treated to colours of costumes that were incredible!

Gorgeous!  My only intention was get every costume on my video to show everyone the detail that went into these outfits.

I found out later why every single costume had an evil face.  They were the Diablos Cojuelos, and demons they were.

As I tried to film these demons, it donned on me as to why I was occasionally hit by these strange footballs by various men in the audience.

I began to be brutally belted by the Diablos Cojuelos.

When I was hit by one, I would turn around from the pain to protect myself, only to be hit by another man standing waiting for his turn to beat me.

They hit me with those rock solid footballs with all their strength.

This I know because I saw how hard they hit other women as well, and in a country where you're born with a baseball bat in hand, the swing is strong.

Yet, the women around me only received a seldom hit.

I stood out in the crowd because I am a gringa with blonde hair.  I was a target, and my beatings were repeated well beyond 20 times.

No matter where I went, children and men would attack me with these balls.

At one point, I found a tree and stood in front of it, pressing my ass up against it with my arms fastened tightly around the back in hopes I would be safe.

There was even a point where I was being chased by a few of the Diablos Cojuelos through the crowd, and people parted to give them access to get to me.

Then they cheered as I was assailed repeatedly.

One of the hits I took was so painful I came close to vomiting and passing out within seconds.

Someone told me to sit down, but I was in so much pain, I couldn't even sit to save myself.  I explained this only to have them laugh, thinking I was kidding.

I was in tremendous pain, so much so that it hurt to walk and I could feel the swelling of welts through my shorts.

Inflammation of blood created pressure as it bled beneath my skin, and even the lightest touch from someone brushing against my ass sent pain shooting through my mid-section.

There was one more problem:  I still had to get back to the bus for 6 o'clock.

As I darted through the crowd, I did my best to keep my backside protected by grandmothers, food carts, walls and trees.

I was in full panic anticipating the next beating, looking over my shoulder in fear for 2 hours.

During the weaving in and out of the crowd, still being occasionally hit by anyone who had enough space to do so, we found our group.  The tour guide for the day was sweet enough to give me a barrier to watch for anymore sneak attacks.

Our group on the bus really didn't understand the gravity of the attacks I endured.

Girls told me they hurt as well, but they sat on her bus seat pretty easily, and jumped around with energy.

It took me quite a bit of time to finally settle into my seat.

I had to do it millimetre by millimetre until my entire ass was placed.  I sat, breathing through the pain.

We finally got home from our long day at Carnival and I went straight to the bathroom mirror to look at how badly I was violated.

Here is the 'end' result:

However, yesterday, it was even worse.  The bruising has spread down my legs and the the sides of my hips, and it's almost impossible to find any white skin back there.

I don't think I'll be going back to 'Carnival'.  I'm done.

I'm also not too sure about being in large gatherings with men here anymore.

It's too unpredictable and I don't feel safe.

my life has value and others appreciate who i am