Last night I got a spanking. A good, sound spanking.
With the cuffs on my wrists and my arms pulled and chained behind me, I was led into the bedroom. There, in front of the bed, he pulled down my pants and my panties. He undid the chain on my wrists and positioned my arms to the front of my body. Pushing me forward so that the upper half of my body was on the bed and my bottom hanging off the edge, he began. A methodical, even, smack from one cheek to the other. Then he stopped. He spread me apart, my legs, my cheeks, my lips. He felt how wet I was.
"I think you like this", he said.
Oh yes.
And then he began again. More swats, maybe a little harder this time. Then he plunged his fingers into me. Pulling out the wetness that was now close to dripping down my legs.
Pushing me up on the bed he pulled the chain around the small headboard. He pushed a pillow under my abdomen, and spread my legs so that he could see me. More spanking, more fingers searching, probing, filling me up. Then he fucked me. And fucked me. Oh, so, good.
Later, as I lay on my belly with my head to the side facing him, still chained to the bed, going nowhere, we chatted. Talking about what other painful things he could do to me with the right tools (a flogger? cuffs that fit better?), the subject of the spanking came up. I don't remember exactly what was said, but it was mentioned that the spanking I got was mild. To illustrate, he gave me 3 or 4 swift, VERY hard swats on my bottom and the back of my thighs.
"This", he said, "is a discipline spanking."
The difference between what I got earlier and those few demonstration smacks was stark.
Today I wrote him to reiterate how much I enjoyed our time together -
"I can't help but think about the many things, both painful and restrictive, that might be in my future."
And he returned with -
"....painful and restrictive....good choice of words."
Showing posts with label bondage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bondage. Show all posts
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
The Perfect Table
Bacchus at Erosblog refers us to this gallery of pictures because he's impressed by the variety of facial expressions the model treats us to throughout her examination.
What I am drawn to, however, is the table. This is the table of my fantasy and the moment I saw it I wished I could find an opportunity to get my check-up in that office.
It is perfect.
This picture is intriguing, as is the ample girth of the cock she's being impaled with, but look at the table. The restraints in exactly the right location to lock her wrists in place to the side of her head.
In this picture, you can see the stirrups that support her thighs and can comfortably (a word I use here lightly) hold her in place.
Oh yes, the perfect examination table for my doctor (and his nurse, of course) to test my many reactions to their ministrations.
What I am drawn to, however, is the table. This is the table of my fantasy and the moment I saw it I wished I could find an opportunity to get my check-up in that office.
It is perfect.
This picture is intriguing, as is the ample girth of the cock she's being impaled with, but look at the table. The restraints in exactly the right location to lock her wrists in place to the side of her head.
In this picture, you can see the stirrups that support her thighs and can comfortably (a word I use here lightly) hold her in place.
Oh yes, the perfect examination table for my doctor (and his nurse, of course) to test my many reactions to their ministrations.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Check-up
I've never had doctor fantasies, and yet lately I've had one that I have no idea where it came from. Thin air. I have had a long standing therapist fantasy, but this is very different. It strikes me as a little funny, in a way. It seems so cliche. But, what are our fantasies but enhancements of reality?
Actually, I've had very few male doctors. Huh - maybe this is why.
In walks the doctor. He's rather handsome, in his 40's or 50's, very professional in his manner. Almost perfunctory. He stands between my legs and gets right to work. He begins by examining my labia, touching my lips, pulling them apart, making sure everything's okay.
His manner is very routine, he's doing his job, but his hands tell something else. The way he touches me is very sexual. Obviously trying to arouse me. He tells me he's going to do an internal exam. He begins by inserting a finger into my cunt. Though he says, "I'm going to begin with a finger in your vagina." He does this and, again, his actions are far from what could be considered a standard examination. He slowly pushes his finger in and out of me, then he pushes another finger in and is finger fucking me in earnest. Still, he is speaking professionally, as if what he's doing is not sexual at all.
"Yes," he says, "you seem to have a normal physical response to my actions. You're producing quite a bit of lubrication and you're clearly aroused. Very good."
I'm trying hard not to writhe on the table or cry out from the pleasure, but it becomes increasingly more difficult as he continues to push his fingers into my cunt.
He calls the nurse forward from where she's been standing at my side.
"Would you pull her labia apart and stimulate her clitoris, please? We need to see if her reactions there are appropriate."
I gasp as she spreads my lips and begins to rub my clit. I am overwhelmed by them both. At this point I AM writhing on the table. My hips are bucking up towards his fingers, trying to make them go deeper even still. My hands are gripping the sides of the table and my cries are increasingly louder.
"It's becoming difficult to carry on with the exam this way. Nurse, would you restrain her, please. You understand, my dear, we can't accurately measure your responses if you are moving all over the place."
The nurse grabs my arms and pulls them to the side of my head where there are leather restraints built into the table. After buckling my hands, she takes my legs and moves them down so that now my thighs are in the stirrups and she proceeds to strap them down with similar restraints. Last, she pulls across a leather belt and ties me in at the waist. I cannot move.
"Good. I'm going to examine your rectum now," he says.
I am, at this point, so overwhelmed by what has been happening, I almost can't react to this statement. I simply gasp.
The doctor puts his hand out towards the nurse, who pours some lubricant onto his fingers. He gently rubs some of the lube onto my ass and slowly pushes his index finger into me.
"If you breathe, it will be less uncomfortable," he says.
With his left hand resting on my belly, he proceeds to gently and slowly, push his finger in and out of my ass. My moaning is now low and guttural. I feel as if I'm being pushed to the edge of what is allowably pleasurable.
"Yes, good," the doctor says. And now his voice is lower. I can tell he is aroused, as he watches what he is doing to me. Clearly excited by both his own actions and my response. He pushes in another finger and picks up the pace.
"Yes, nurse, I believe you should resume your attention to the clitoris."
And with that, she spreads me apart and begins to rub my clit in time with the doctors rhythm. It is so sensual, and so decadent, it feels as if we're all moving in the same time.
"This is my favorite part of the exam," says the doctor. And I look down and realize he's pulled his very erect cock out of his pants and, with his other hand, is stroking it.
"Nurse?"
She knows, apparently, what is to come next. She moves away from me and pulls a condom from a drawer. She opens the package and slides it over his cock. I want to beg for it, beg for his cock in me, but I don't. I'm ashamed enough as it is that this exam has become so depraved. Ashamed at being restrained and, essentially, molested by my doctor and his nurse. Ashamed at how much I want it and want it to continue.
"The best way, really the only way, to accurately grade your response is if I put my penis in your rectum." As he says this, the nurse is stroking his cock with lube.
He puts the head of his cock at my ass and pushes. Not hard, but not easy either. He pushes it in and I cry out with the pain and the pleasure of it. Both he and the nurse watch as his cock moves in and out of my ass. I am, practically, screaming.
"Good, yes, good. Good reaction. Nurse..."
She again begins her ministrations to my clit and I feel myself so close, so close to orgasm, and he senses this.
"Yes, this is what I want to see. If you can come from my penis in your rectum. Are you sensitive enough? Is it good enough?"
Faster and faster, he fucks me until I'm there, at the edge and I explode into a thousand magnificent contractions over and over and he doesn't stop. And then he comes with a growl and a satisfied moan.
He pulls his softening cock out of me and the nurse begins to undo the restraints. She puts a soft, white towel over the lower half of my body and says she'll be back in a moment with some soap and warm water.
As the doctor removes his gloves and washes his hands at the sink, he says, "I think I can say with all confidence that you are healthy in all aspects. I don't think we need to do any further tests of your responses. We'll see you next year."
Actually, I've had very few male doctors. Huh - maybe this is why.
**************************************************************************************So, I'm at the doctors. The gynecologist, of course. I'm told to undress completely, by the nurse, and to lay on the table with my feet in the stirrups. The nurse, by the way, is a woman. Is she in what I would call a nurses porno outfit? Short skirt, too tight top with cleavage spilling out all over. As a matter of fact, she is.
In walks the doctor. He's rather handsome, in his 40's or 50's, very professional in his manner. Almost perfunctory. He stands between my legs and gets right to work. He begins by examining my labia, touching my lips, pulling them apart, making sure everything's okay.
His manner is very routine, he's doing his job, but his hands tell something else. The way he touches me is very sexual. Obviously trying to arouse me. He tells me he's going to do an internal exam. He begins by inserting a finger into my cunt. Though he says, "I'm going to begin with a finger in your vagina." He does this and, again, his actions are far from what could be considered a standard examination. He slowly pushes his finger in and out of me, then he pushes another finger in and is finger fucking me in earnest. Still, he is speaking professionally, as if what he's doing is not sexual at all.
"Yes," he says, "you seem to have a normal physical response to my actions. You're producing quite a bit of lubrication and you're clearly aroused. Very good."
I'm trying hard not to writhe on the table or cry out from the pleasure, but it becomes increasingly more difficult as he continues to push his fingers into my cunt.
He calls the nurse forward from where she's been standing at my side.
"Would you pull her labia apart and stimulate her clitoris, please? We need to see if her reactions there are appropriate."
I gasp as she spreads my lips and begins to rub my clit. I am overwhelmed by them both. At this point I AM writhing on the table. My hips are bucking up towards his fingers, trying to make them go deeper even still. My hands are gripping the sides of the table and my cries are increasingly louder.
"It's becoming difficult to carry on with the exam this way. Nurse, would you restrain her, please. You understand, my dear, we can't accurately measure your responses if you are moving all over the place."
The nurse grabs my arms and pulls them to the side of my head where there are leather restraints built into the table. After buckling my hands, she takes my legs and moves them down so that now my thighs are in the stirrups and she proceeds to strap them down with similar restraints. Last, she pulls across a leather belt and ties me in at the waist. I cannot move.
"Good. I'm going to examine your rectum now," he says.
I am, at this point, so overwhelmed by what has been happening, I almost can't react to this statement. I simply gasp.
The doctor puts his hand out towards the nurse, who pours some lubricant onto his fingers. He gently rubs some of the lube onto my ass and slowly pushes his index finger into me.
"If you breathe, it will be less uncomfortable," he says.
With his left hand resting on my belly, he proceeds to gently and slowly, push his finger in and out of my ass. My moaning is now low and guttural. I feel as if I'm being pushed to the edge of what is allowably pleasurable.
"Yes, good," the doctor says. And now his voice is lower. I can tell he is aroused, as he watches what he is doing to me. Clearly excited by both his own actions and my response. He pushes in another finger and picks up the pace.
"Yes, nurse, I believe you should resume your attention to the clitoris."
And with that, she spreads me apart and begins to rub my clit in time with the doctors rhythm. It is so sensual, and so decadent, it feels as if we're all moving in the same time.
"This is my favorite part of the exam," says the doctor. And I look down and realize he's pulled his very erect cock out of his pants and, with his other hand, is stroking it.
"Nurse?"
She knows, apparently, what is to come next. She moves away from me and pulls a condom from a drawer. She opens the package and slides it over his cock. I want to beg for it, beg for his cock in me, but I don't. I'm ashamed enough as it is that this exam has become so depraved. Ashamed at being restrained and, essentially, molested by my doctor and his nurse. Ashamed at how much I want it and want it to continue.
"The best way, really the only way, to accurately grade your response is if I put my penis in your rectum." As he says this, the nurse is stroking his cock with lube.
He puts the head of his cock at my ass and pushes. Not hard, but not easy either. He pushes it in and I cry out with the pain and the pleasure of it. Both he and the nurse watch as his cock moves in and out of my ass. I am, practically, screaming.
"Good, yes, good. Good reaction. Nurse..."
She again begins her ministrations to my clit and I feel myself so close, so close to orgasm, and he senses this.
"Yes, this is what I want to see. If you can come from my penis in your rectum. Are you sensitive enough? Is it good enough?"
Faster and faster, he fucks me until I'm there, at the edge and I explode into a thousand magnificent contractions over and over and he doesn't stop. And then he comes with a growl and a satisfied moan.
He pulls his softening cock out of me and the nurse begins to undo the restraints. She puts a soft, white towel over the lower half of my body and says she'll be back in a moment with some soap and warm water.
As the doctor removes his gloves and washes his hands at the sink, he says, "I think I can say with all confidence that you are healthy in all aspects. I don't think we need to do any further tests of your responses. We'll see you next year."
**************************************************************************************Maybe I should reconsider and find myself a male doctor.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Notorious Is as Notorious Does?
I watched, for the first time, last night the film The Notorious Bettie Page. It's a little bit of a clunker of a film, but I was intrigued by her as a character. They depict her as being completely innocent to her actions and her surroundings. After having professed to believe in Jesus, she's asked by the photographer what she thought Jesus would say about the things she was doing. The answer she gives is either a tremendous amount of bullshit, or the most convoluted rationalization imaginable.
First, she talks about how each person has a talent and how God wants each person to use their talent. She even says something bizarre about how what she's doing is helping someone. (Now, don't get me wrong, dear reader. You know me and you know I actually DO believe her bondage and spanking photos are helping people. Perverts, like you and me. But we know this is not the view of the wider population. Then, even less so.) She goes on to comment about how Adam and Eve are naked in the garden, so....
I guess I just wonder how naive she really was. In the film they make her out to be a Pollyanna character. A church going, God fearing, innocent. And that, in the end, she did turn to God and repented at some Evangelical church in Florida. And, maybe that's what she did. I'm just skeptical that in the years she was making those pictures, she was unaffected by her actions.
Was she not dripping wet during some of those shoots? Tied up to the chair, splayed out for all to see (albeit covered completely by contraptions in lingerie), was she not in some state of arousal? They depict the spankings as being fake. The hand never actually meets the bottom. But did she yearn for it? Did a part of her secretly want to cry out begging to be spanked? Being tied, gagged and blindfolded was real. I cannot believe she was not affected.
In doing a little research I came across the Official Site of Bettie Page. I combed this site and nowhere is there a reference to the BDSM aspects of her photography. They have bondage pictures, but in her biography, and other essays about her life, there is no discussion of her involvement in these photos.
In Hips, Lips and Tits...It's Bettie Page, I found this paragraph:
So, she had fun.
I guess we'll never know if it was hot for her. Even if it was, she probably wouldn't admit it. And maybe she really was an innocent. Maybe she thought it was just a little fun, a job that paid well, some notoriety, and somewhere, it was helping someone. I wonder if she ever considered in what way those photos were helping.
First, she talks about how each person has a talent and how God wants each person to use their talent. She even says something bizarre about how what she's doing is helping someone. (Now, don't get me wrong, dear reader. You know me and you know I actually DO believe her bondage and spanking photos are helping people. Perverts, like you and me. But we know this is not the view of the wider population. Then, even less so.) She goes on to comment about how Adam and Eve are naked in the garden, so....
I guess I just wonder how naive she really was. In the film they make her out to be a Pollyanna character. A church going, God fearing, innocent. And that, in the end, she did turn to God and repented at some Evangelical church in Florida. And, maybe that's what she did. I'm just skeptical that in the years she was making those pictures, she was unaffected by her actions.
Was she not dripping wet during some of those shoots? Tied up to the chair, splayed out for all to see (albeit covered completely by contraptions in lingerie), was she not in some state of arousal? They depict the spankings as being fake. The hand never actually meets the bottom. But did she yearn for it? Did a part of her secretly want to cry out begging to be spanked? Being tied, gagged and blindfolded was real. I cannot believe she was not affected.
In doing a little research I came across the Official Site of Bettie Page. I combed this site and nowhere is there a reference to the BDSM aspects of her photography. They have bondage pictures, but in her biography, and other essays about her life, there is no discussion of her involvement in these photos.
In Hips, Lips and Tits...It's Bettie Page, I found this paragraph:
Was Bettie really into bondage?
In order to fulfill customer requests, Irving Klaw required that Bettie do at least some bondage or fetish for all of her shoots (Klaw and Bettie were not bdsm enthusiasts themselves). For the setups, the tying of ropes was done by his sister Paula, a trusted friend of Bettie's. Bettie has said that she enjoyed all of the modeling she did, including the bondage scenes (as well as spanking, wrestling, whipping, dressing up in a leather pony costume, etc.), and did not feel exploited. So while the Dark Angel was not a real-life bondage queen, she did have fun posing for the pictures.
So, she had fun.
I guess we'll never know if it was hot for her. Even if it was, she probably wouldn't admit it. And maybe she really was an innocent. Maybe she thought it was just a little fun, a job that paid well, some notoriety, and somewhere, it was helping someone. I wonder if she ever considered in what way those photos were helping.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Time = Creativity
I have two pieces in the works, but no time to work on either. It's frustrating and disappointing. I pray for either more hours in the day or more energy to throw at the hours I'm not working. I'm sorry to my small (but loyal?) following.
I also think were I being tied up and spanked with any kind of regularity (meaning, at all) my inspiration and energy level would both be enhanced. So, there's that.
In the meantime -
I also think were I being tied up and spanked with any kind of regularity (meaning, at all) my inspiration and energy level would both be enhanced. So, there's that.
In the meantime -
This is a pay site and I'm cheap, but if you're interested in Shibari you should check it out. Jane's Guide likes them, and that's always a good sign.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
And a little more...
In my travels on the web looking for fun and sexy pictures and images (and hot erotica) I found this:
It's not a photo, it's a drawing (digital, I imagine). I like the way the rope is tied, it's very elegant. It's a little too neat and she doesn't look nearly uncomfortable enough, but it's still pretty. I like the way it wraps around her waist and then gives almost a thong effect with the single rope under her belly button.
I found this at The Collar Purple . She has some interesting work. Some images of spanking and bondage and a whole super-hero and cartoon series. Of those, this is the best
Oh, don't complain so much Wilma!
Friday, April 13, 2007
A little something...
I've been having trouble with Part 2 of The Birthday Present. As Shon pointed out, the dynamics are tricky. They are indeed. So, while I work on this conundrum, or come up with something equally as delicious, I offer you this.
Which I found at Vintage Spanking Photos. Some of these are absolutely hilarious, really. I like this one for a couple of reasons. First, it really is kinda sexy, with the gag and all. Some of the vintage ones really aren't. And, it's Bettie Page getting spanked there, apparantly. Kinky, celebrity spanking. A celebrity we can be proud of.
I've had my mind on spanking, of late. I'm not sure why. It's not like I haven't thought of, or written about, spanking before, but the last week or so it's in the forefront of my mind and fantasies. I miss the sharp thwack as hand meets bottom, the feeling of satisfaction of the spanker, my mixed reaction of dismay and delight, and, of course, that delicious sting after.
So, maybe my goal right now is to find a spanker. A boyfriend would be nice, but in the meantime...
Which I found at Vintage Spanking Photos. Some of these are absolutely hilarious, really. I like this one for a couple of reasons. First, it really is kinda sexy, with the gag and all. Some of the vintage ones really aren't. And, it's Bettie Page getting spanked there, apparantly. Kinky, celebrity spanking. A celebrity we can be proud of.
I've had my mind on spanking, of late. I'm not sure why. It's not like I haven't thought of, or written about, spanking before, but the last week or so it's in the forefront of my mind and fantasies. I miss the sharp thwack as hand meets bottom, the feeling of satisfaction of the spanker, my mixed reaction of dismay and delight, and, of course, that delicious sting after.
So, maybe my goal right now is to find a spanker. A boyfriend would be nice, but in the meantime...
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Too late now
You left too soon. Before you could do the things to me I had hiding in my head. Saving up to tell you, to whisper into your ear in the night as you slept. Subliminally suggesting the torture I wanted you to submit me to, the pleasure I wanted you to have watching me suffer, watching me moan with the joy of giving myself to you.
You left before you tied me to the chair, naked, alone. My hands behind me, my legs splayed to either side, open and exposed. Or see my cunt, swollen and dripping from your eyes taking me in, lapping at me like a tongue, teasing me with a little smile. You didn't take your cock in your hand, semi-erect, and stroke it. You didn't see my eyes greedy to see you grow, to hear your breathing change and become rapid and ragged with your need. You didn't move close to me with your erection, or tell me to open and push your way into my mouth, taking me in a way that's both a violation and your right, because I give it you.
You never held my head, my hair, in your clenched fist and watched as tears formed in my eyes from gasping from the air being denied me in place of your need. Or see me looking up at you, into your eyes, pleading you to stop, and making sure your pleasure was complete. You didn't see me count each thrust in the hope that the next was the last, that the next would bring you closer to your goal.
Your goal of seeing your come fill my mouth, slide down my throat, make me choke and gag and drip out of my mouth, onto my chin and my chest. You didn't get to pull yourself out in your final throes and watch as you emptied yourself onto my breasts, my belly, my twat, spread out before you - wet and wanting from my own degradation and your profane desire.
You left before you tied me to the chair, naked, alone. My hands behind me, my legs splayed to either side, open and exposed. Or see my cunt, swollen and dripping from your eyes taking me in, lapping at me like a tongue, teasing me with a little smile. You didn't take your cock in your hand, semi-erect, and stroke it. You didn't see my eyes greedy to see you grow, to hear your breathing change and become rapid and ragged with your need. You didn't move close to me with your erection, or tell me to open and push your way into my mouth, taking me in a way that's both a violation and your right, because I give it you.
You never held my head, my hair, in your clenched fist and watched as tears formed in my eyes from gasping from the air being denied me in place of your need. Or see me looking up at you, into your eyes, pleading you to stop, and making sure your pleasure was complete. You didn't see me count each thrust in the hope that the next was the last, that the next would bring you closer to your goal.
Your goal of seeing your come fill my mouth, slide down my throat, make me choke and gag and drip out of my mouth, onto my chin and my chest. You didn't get to pull yourself out in your final throes and watch as you emptied yourself onto my breasts, my belly, my twat, spread out before you - wet and wanting from my own degradation and your profane desire.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
Radio Silence
It seems I'm finally adjusting to his being gone. It's still so silent. The phone doesn't ring as much, no texts. It's weird. I cried a lot, but not so much today.
Am starting, though, to think of how I would punish him if given the chance.
No talking. Go immediately to the bedroom upon walking in the door. Take off all your clothes and kneel at the end of the bed. No pillow under your knees, just bare on the rug. Now wait.
I'm having a glass of wine. I'm trying to calm down after all these days of silence and having to endure abandonment and betrayal. I'm smoking a cigarette and drinking my wine, gazing out the window at the city while you remain kneeling, quietly, patiently at the end of the bed.
After some time, 20 minutes or so, I get up and go to see what you're up to. I'm impressed with your obedience, but there will be no rewards today. No rewards for many days.
I get out the restraints and attach you to the bars at the end of the bed. I pull the straps as tightly as I can and I know it's a little uncomfortable. I get a rush as I see you wince. The degree to which I want to hurt you tonight is astonishing. You're going to suffer like you've never even imagined.
During our time apart, I bought a whip and took a class and have been practicing. It's a cat 'o nine. It's black and it's sharp. But, I don't want to start there. I start with the small flogger. A few light strokes, then a few more, then a little harder until you're grunting with a little bit of pain and I see that your cock is getting hard. You're semi-erect and while this excites me the only thing I want to do is smack it. Later...
I rest a bit, and drink a little wine and then pull out my new toy. I show it to you, "See what I bought while you were away?", I say sarcastically. "A new toy. And I didn't even know you were going to be able to help me break it in. How lucky!" With that I come behind you, and I see you brace yourself and you should. With a a little crack I give your back just the end, a little sting, not the full effect. But, you are affected. You cry out a bit and now your cock is hard. I give you another and another, each time a little harder. I stop and watch as your back turns red and the welts come out.
Now for your ass. Again, I start with just the tip, a little sting. A tingle. Until I can't hold back anymore and I am beating you like you never imagined possible. All the while telling you what a fucking son of a bitch asshole you are for even daring to leave me, for lying to me over and over, each stroke is for another lie and there were so many. Your cock betrays you, even though I know you're in tremendous pain.
Once I think I've covered every lie, and just before I think I will draw blood, I stop. I sit on the end of the bed in front of you and just watch as you try to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face, and as the real pain starts to sink in. You look up at me with scared, sorrowful eyes and for a moment I know why you deserve this. You wouldn't if I didn't feel this way about you. But, it's just a moment and then I remember and I'm up.
I undo the restraints and tell you to lie on your back on the bed. I know this will be painful and watch as you gingerly lay back. You're still semi-erect, but I want you hard. I kneel over you, just above your cock, my pussy dripping from the power and the anger, and begin to touch my clit, rubbing back and forth. I push one, then two fingers deep into my cunt. I watch your face as you watch me and see that even with your pain, you can't help but be aroused. And, again, your cock gives you away. You're now hard as a rock.
I move off of you, and kneel beside you, looking at your hard on, sticking up in the air. Listening to your breath, fast and excited. I raise my hand and as hard as I can I slap your cock. The look of surprise and fear that cross your face make me smile, and I slap it again, and again, and again. You are still very hard. You know you deserve this.
When I'm bored with this I straddle your face, I push my pussy down onto your mouth, forcing you to fuck me with your tongue, commanding you to suck on my clit and flick your tongue over it. I rock back and forth, over and over, until I explode, dripping into your mouth, gagging you with my juices.
I climb off of you. I stand at the end of the bed for a moment looking at you, hard, covered in my come, in pain, pathetic. I take my wine and leave the room.
Am starting, though, to think of how I would punish him if given the chance.
No talking. Go immediately to the bedroom upon walking in the door. Take off all your clothes and kneel at the end of the bed. No pillow under your knees, just bare on the rug. Now wait.
I'm having a glass of wine. I'm trying to calm down after all these days of silence and having to endure abandonment and betrayal. I'm smoking a cigarette and drinking my wine, gazing out the window at the city while you remain kneeling, quietly, patiently at the end of the bed.
After some time, 20 minutes or so, I get up and go to see what you're up to. I'm impressed with your obedience, but there will be no rewards today. No rewards for many days.
I get out the restraints and attach you to the bars at the end of the bed. I pull the straps as tightly as I can and I know it's a little uncomfortable. I get a rush as I see you wince. The degree to which I want to hurt you tonight is astonishing. You're going to suffer like you've never even imagined.
During our time apart, I bought a whip and took a class and have been practicing. It's a cat 'o nine. It's black and it's sharp. But, I don't want to start there. I start with the small flogger. A few light strokes, then a few more, then a little harder until you're grunting with a little bit of pain and I see that your cock is getting hard. You're semi-erect and while this excites me the only thing I want to do is smack it. Later...
I rest a bit, and drink a little wine and then pull out my new toy. I show it to you, "See what I bought while you were away?", I say sarcastically. "A new toy. And I didn't even know you were going to be able to help me break it in. How lucky!" With that I come behind you, and I see you brace yourself and you should. With a a little crack I give your back just the end, a little sting, not the full effect. But, you are affected. You cry out a bit and now your cock is hard. I give you another and another, each time a little harder. I stop and watch as your back turns red and the welts come out.
Now for your ass. Again, I start with just the tip, a little sting. A tingle. Until I can't hold back anymore and I am beating you like you never imagined possible. All the while telling you what a fucking son of a bitch asshole you are for even daring to leave me, for lying to me over and over, each stroke is for another lie and there were so many. Your cock betrays you, even though I know you're in tremendous pain.
Once I think I've covered every lie, and just before I think I will draw blood, I stop. I sit on the end of the bed in front of you and just watch as you try to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face, and as the real pain starts to sink in. You look up at me with scared, sorrowful eyes and for a moment I know why you deserve this. You wouldn't if I didn't feel this way about you. But, it's just a moment and then I remember and I'm up.
I undo the restraints and tell you to lie on your back on the bed. I know this will be painful and watch as you gingerly lay back. You're still semi-erect, but I want you hard. I kneel over you, just above your cock, my pussy dripping from the power and the anger, and begin to touch my clit, rubbing back and forth. I push one, then two fingers deep into my cunt. I watch your face as you watch me and see that even with your pain, you can't help but be aroused. And, again, your cock gives you away. You're now hard as a rock.
I move off of you, and kneel beside you, looking at your hard on, sticking up in the air. Listening to your breath, fast and excited. I raise my hand and as hard as I can I slap your cock. The look of surprise and fear that cross your face make me smile, and I slap it again, and again, and again. You are still very hard. You know you deserve this.
When I'm bored with this I straddle your face, I push my pussy down onto your mouth, forcing you to fuck me with your tongue, commanding you to suck on my clit and flick your tongue over it. I rock back and forth, over and over, until I explode, dripping into your mouth, gagging you with my juices.
I climb off of you. I stand at the end of the bed for a moment looking at you, hard, covered in my come, in pain, pathetic. I take my wine and leave the room.
Friday, February 2, 2007
The punishment I deserve
I woke up at 1:00 a.m. and couldn't fall back asleep. I was ridden with guilt and anxiety over what had happened with him today. I made a stupid, stupid mistake. One only I could make with my ridiculous, impulsive behavior. I was afraid to lose him. I could only hope he would/could forgive me. Maybe a punishment could be considered a suitable atonement.
He is so angry that as he ties my hands together and attaches them to the headboard, he pulls the rope very tight, almost cutting into my skin. I cry out, only a bit. He looks at me and doesn't loosen them (but, he doesn't tighten them anymore, either). His look alone expresses his anger and I shrivel at his wrath (and worry about what's to come). I am on my belly with my hands now tied above me. He pulls my legs apart, opening me up, giving me no place to hide. He begins to wrap 1 rope around close to the top of my left thigh, over and over, many times, then pulls the end of the rope and ties it to the side of the bed. He does the same to the right thigh. I am helpless. My hands are tied, my legs spread apart, vulnerable, exposed. He doesn't gag me and I wonder why, but will soon find out.
He just stands by the side of the bed for a while looking at me. Looking at his work. Not making any adjustments, just taking it in. I turn my head to watch him looking at me and we make eye contact. Again, his eyes are on fire with anger. He moves closer to the bed and before I realize what's coming, his hand lands hard and strong on my left cheek, then on my right. Again, I cry out, but he seems not to notice. And then it begins. Over and over, in quick succession, one blow after another on each cheek. ...4, 5, 6... and then he stops. Again, viewing his work. The welts and redness that no doubt now cover my ass.
"Does it hurt?", he asks, somewhat sardonically. "Yes", I say. "Not enough, I'm sure", he answers. "The punishment you deserve is only just beginning, you understand. Each smack represents each moment I've had to endure since that incident this afternoon. When I'm done you will wish you had never called me. And you will never say anything like that again."
With that, he walks to the closet, and pulls out the switch. The long, flexible, stick he saves for "special" occasions. When we use it it's usually gently, but I know today I will not be that lucky. And I'm not. Again, without warning except the noise of the stick singing through the air, it lands squarely across both cheeks and this time I cry out loudly, and tears spring to my eyes. ...1,2,3...Tears are flowing down my cheeks, but I try not to make a sound, knowing I deserve every swat.
He puts down the switch and comes to the end of the bed and moves up to between my legs. Looking at my ass, looking at my pussy, which I know, despite myself, is wet. Dripping and swollen. He sees this and, despite how angry he is, I can tell he is pleased. He spreads me apart and gently puts his thumb on my clit and rubs. I moan with the pleasure of it, mixing with the burning of my ass. Quickly, he pushes his thumb into my cunt and fucks me hard and fast. And then stops. I moan from the loss of being filled.
And it begins again. Another round with his hand, another round with the switch, and again, he finger fucks me, this time harder, more forceful. I know he is still so angry. "Beg me. Beg me to beat you. Beg me to fuck you until you can't walk." And I do. "Please, hurt me, make me bleed and sting, I so deserve to be bruised and scarred."
Then he takes off his pants. I see that his cock is hard, huge, he's so turned-on from this punishment. He crawls between my legs and with no preamble plunges his cock deep into me and proceeds to fuck me hard, very, very hard. "Does it hurt?", he wants to know. "Yes." "Good." And he pushes even harder. "I punished you with my hand, with the switch and now I'm going to punish you with my cock."
He pounds away at me, all the while telling me what a bad girl I am, what a foolish, impulsive woman I am. How he wonders if it was on purpose so I can be given this severe punishment. Still sliding his enormous cock in and out of me.
"I'm going to come all over your red, sore ass. I'm going to cover your ass with my cream." He reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it back, hard at the same time he pulls his cock out of my cunt and comes all over my ass. "Bitch", he moans from a place so deep, I know he means it. And I know I deserve it.
He is so angry that as he ties my hands together and attaches them to the headboard, he pulls the rope very tight, almost cutting into my skin. I cry out, only a bit. He looks at me and doesn't loosen them (but, he doesn't tighten them anymore, either). His look alone expresses his anger and I shrivel at his wrath (and worry about what's to come). I am on my belly with my hands now tied above me. He pulls my legs apart, opening me up, giving me no place to hide. He begins to wrap 1 rope around close to the top of my left thigh, over and over, many times, then pulls the end of the rope and ties it to the side of the bed. He does the same to the right thigh. I am helpless. My hands are tied, my legs spread apart, vulnerable, exposed. He doesn't gag me and I wonder why, but will soon find out.
He just stands by the side of the bed for a while looking at me. Looking at his work. Not making any adjustments, just taking it in. I turn my head to watch him looking at me and we make eye contact. Again, his eyes are on fire with anger. He moves closer to the bed and before I realize what's coming, his hand lands hard and strong on my left cheek, then on my right. Again, I cry out, but he seems not to notice. And then it begins. Over and over, in quick succession, one blow after another on each cheek. ...4, 5, 6... and then he stops. Again, viewing his work. The welts and redness that no doubt now cover my ass.
"Does it hurt?", he asks, somewhat sardonically. "Yes", I say. "Not enough, I'm sure", he answers. "The punishment you deserve is only just beginning, you understand. Each smack represents each moment I've had to endure since that incident this afternoon. When I'm done you will wish you had never called me. And you will never say anything like that again."
With that, he walks to the closet, and pulls out the switch. The long, flexible, stick he saves for "special" occasions. When we use it it's usually gently, but I know today I will not be that lucky. And I'm not. Again, without warning except the noise of the stick singing through the air, it lands squarely across both cheeks and this time I cry out loudly, and tears spring to my eyes. ...1,2,3...Tears are flowing down my cheeks, but I try not to make a sound, knowing I deserve every swat.
He puts down the switch and comes to the end of the bed and moves up to between my legs. Looking at my ass, looking at my pussy, which I know, despite myself, is wet. Dripping and swollen. He sees this and, despite how angry he is, I can tell he is pleased. He spreads me apart and gently puts his thumb on my clit and rubs. I moan with the pleasure of it, mixing with the burning of my ass. Quickly, he pushes his thumb into my cunt and fucks me hard and fast. And then stops. I moan from the loss of being filled.
And it begins again. Another round with his hand, another round with the switch, and again, he finger fucks me, this time harder, more forceful. I know he is still so angry. "Beg me. Beg me to beat you. Beg me to fuck you until you can't walk." And I do. "Please, hurt me, make me bleed and sting, I so deserve to be bruised and scarred."
Then he takes off his pants. I see that his cock is hard, huge, he's so turned-on from this punishment. He crawls between my legs and with no preamble plunges his cock deep into me and proceeds to fuck me hard, very, very hard. "Does it hurt?", he wants to know. "Yes." "Good." And he pushes even harder. "I punished you with my hand, with the switch and now I'm going to punish you with my cock."
He pounds away at me, all the while telling me what a bad girl I am, what a foolish, impulsive woman I am. How he wonders if it was on purpose so I can be given this severe punishment. Still sliding his enormous cock in and out of me.
"I'm going to come all over your red, sore ass. I'm going to cover your ass with my cream." He reaches up and grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it back, hard at the same time he pulls his cock out of my cunt and comes all over my ass. "Bitch", he moans from a place so deep, I know he means it. And I know I deserve it.
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