Thursday, April 28, 2011

The making of a masochist

I hate that word.
It sounds so

There's a chance that, one day, someone will apply that word to me.

Me, I prefer the word sensualist.

I don't think the sadist expects to make me into what he would think of as a masochist. But he has taken me by the hand and begun to lead me down that beautiful, dangerous path to that place where pleasure and pain are intertwined.

He's not usually one to go in for warm-ups. Usually, when he wants to hurt me, it is either for punishment or for his pleasure. In either case, warming up my butt doesn't figure into his plans.

This time was different.
This time the whole point was to go gradually.
The old frog in the pot of warming water trick.

I can't remember the exact order of things.
But I know I was already somewhat in that place.

I was ordered into position down on the floor. My ass was offered. He started with the wooden spoon. He tapped it very lightly, then a little harder, slowly increasing, probably reaching something that would have had me squirming if he had started off that way. Next came the flogger. It seemed as if he was whipping me with some energy, but it didn't hurt. It was just that wonderful flogging sensation, not the pain he has previously managed to inflict with a flogger that had been specifically designed not to hurt very much.

Then the cane.
Again, lightly at first.
And never very hard.
Though who knows?
Anyway, he said he just wanted to make my butt pink.
He likes to look at my rosy bottom
as I kneel before him,
ass in the air,
sucking his cock.

It was later that the real lesson commenced.
Again, I was kneeling before him.
The chain was wrapped tight around my neck
as it had been since soon after he arrived.
My right hand jerked his cock.
My left hand caressed my pussy.
Did he only use his hand?
Or the spoon, too?
He spanked me.
Gently to start.
Then harder.
And harder.
It hurt.
But never really hurt.
Even when it should have hurt.
It never really hurt.

When the spanking stopped, my butt kept ringing.

It was wonderful.

At the end, I was begging for more...
The door was open, and beyond lay dark sunshine.

Take me there, my Lord.
Take me there with you.

Lead me to that place where I will kneel at your feet and beg you to do those awful things that you dream of doing to me. The ones that wake you in the middle of the night...


Paul said...

OG, "a Rose by any other name," some love the flower, some the thorn.
Love and warm hugs,

Anonymous said...

"The door was open, and beyond lay dark sunshine." What a perfect, delicate, elegant description! You never, ever cease to amaze. Enjoy the journey, dear one. - jcn

William said...

Those are the dreams that I have. To give My slut such pain and have her beg for more. Thank you for describing what you felt so perfectly.