The pillow had soaked up my tears and my snot but I'd had to splutter out the hair that was stuck to my face. I had felt like a piece of meat for his sadism, but when his hand touched my face I felt embraced and loved. It was good to feel his caresses as well as his whacks.
"When I come back you will be naked and lying face down, waiting. I'll just go get some toys."
OK, I am not entirely ready for this. I hope he warms me up before he uses those evil things.
He moved the quilts and delivered some little smacks with his hand. Yay, warm up! More spanking. And more. My head came up and around: yep, my rawr was rising.
"Put your head forwards."
More spanks.
"Head forwards."
A couple more spanks and he corrected the position of my head. Grr! I was feeling a bit isolated, like I was just his spank meat.
"Ow. Ow. Ow!"
My hands started creeping up to the level of my shoulders.
"Keep your hands down."
I put them back down by my sides
He paused and reached for the bull dog clip, which he placed on the back of my neck to send me into zombie land. A few of the smacks went astray onto my hip bone, which wasn't good, so I let him know and he avoided it from then on. He worked up a strong cadence that had me mewling, and at some point the clip slipped off my neck, but it seemed like a mere detail by that point.
My head stayed forward because I didn't feel like I was allowed to look. I felt the tap tap tap of the cane. I fucking hate that thing; I know how evil it can be, and that knowledge always fucks with my head. He only tapped lightly, but my own fear fucked me mercilessly, making me feel each tap as the hard strike I knew it could be.
He paused, and then a heavier tap started. Was it the leather wrapped cane? My own head fuck continued to torment me far worse than worse than any of the impacts. He paused again, and then I felt the broader but lighter weight of the ruler taps. I relaxed a little. I knew this one, and it brought back fond memories of an incredible smacking that left me horny and high.
Then I felt the tap of something unfamiliar. Oh god. It's the new rawhide cane – that fucking evil thing. My own head fuck raged again. He didn't hit me hard with it, he just tapped, letting us both get a sense of its weight and effect. I was shifting and shuddering with my own built up fear, and my hands kept threatening to creep up until he ordered me to start fingering my clit.
I already knew how wet I was. I had been a horny slut for days, and when my hands found their way down there I was wetter than ever. I cringed at how turned on this kind of play makes me, and I wondered whether I have been conditioned somehow. I struggled with that image. I began to think that maybe the pain was a punishment for something. I knew it wasn't, but the question hung awkwardly in my mind. He felt far away. I wanted reassurance and connection.
He paused and smacked me with his hand again, much harder this time. My shoulders lifted right up and he took my face in his hands, covering my eyes. It was the touch I needed. He held my face gently in his left hand while his right hand whacked my ass with those evil things all over again. But it was all different. My hands stayed in my crotch but I often forgot to finger my clit. He changed from tool to tool until we reached the rawhide cane again, and while he didn't hit me hard with it he did maintain a rhythm and accuracy that built the sensation to a pitch that I was ready to squirm away from.
He whispered in my ear that he was ready to fuck me. Yes please! He finished getting naked and asked me to lick the sweat off him. I wondered where to start. His balls? I thought about it, but wondered if that would be too much too soon, so I started on his torso. I loved hearing him sigh in pleasure as I danced my tongue over his belly and his hardening cock. He told me when he was ready to enter me, and I was more than wet enough.
I fucked him by rolling my hips. His hands gripped my ass, and he determined the pace and depth. I came in that delirious cunt-fucked way, and he kept the movement going longer than I could have and it made me come some more.
He pulled me to one side and I wondered if he was going to bite me. No, he was going to spank my already tenderised ass while he fucked me. He reached across me to hit my butt cheeks much harder than before, but this time we were flesh to flesh and it felt very intimate. After each set he fucked me hard. I loved it when he used his nails to grip me; there was a delicious spike in the intensity and it made me come yet again.
I wonder about my particular mix of masochism and submission. I am beginning to think that I'm just not very masochistic when I am in a submissive mindset, because it feels like it might be punishment. But when I'm bottoming I can happily do more pain. My fuck you attitude will roar, and I'll enjoy the challenge.
Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Sex and Submission.]