He took me into the bedroom a few days ago, led me by the hand. Once inside, with the door closed, I looked at Him. Did He need some 'attention', I asked, or did He want something more? 'Attention' is our code for a blowjob; 'Something More' is code for...something more than just a blowjob.
There was a brief pause, a moment of silence, and then He looked directly at me and said, softly, "I want to hurt you."
It's difficult to describe how those five little words made me feel. I suppose it's best to say I swooned a little, maybe even a lot. Those are the five best words a masochist can hear.
What happened next? Well, He hurt me, naturally. A nice long beating, complete with a warm-up to start. He used different implements, the paddle, the strap, his hand, and He kept a nice even tempo until my butt was toasty. He finished with one incredibly sharp stroke with the cane. It left the most amazing mark on my ass, but sadly we didn't take a picture. Next time, hopefully.
Yesterday He took me into the bedroom again, but there wasn't time to ask Him what He wanted. He ordered me to my knees right away, and some rough oral sex ensued. You know the kind where His cock makes it difficult to breath because it's shoved down your throat, and your eyes water and your nose runs?
Yeah, it was like that.
For a little while, it was like that, then He ordered me over the end of the bed. Unlike the previous time, where He'd been kind enough to give me a warm-up, there was no warm-up. He went straight to the cane.
Anyone out there know what it feels like to get hit with the cane sans warm-up? If you don't know, it does NOT feel good. It hurts like a m*****f*****.
Oh yes, I'd been swooning only a few days previous, but at this moment? Not so much, in fact, not at all. He wasn't gentle with the cane, He was serious, intent, and the strokes were hard. It hurt, a lot.
He had a reason for this. He wanted to leave stripes on my ass, and according to Him, if He gives me a warm-up first, the stripes do not appear. M-type logic at it's finest, I must say. But I digress...
My discomfort, my pain, pleased Him. It excited Him, and His cock was rock hard. He took great delight in fucking me after hitting me with the cane, grinding against the welts forming on my ass. Sadists...
Eventually, the pain ended, followed by good sex. When it was all over, we mused about Mr. Cane, how long we'd had him (five and a half years, to be exact, but who's counting?). I theorized (read: secretly hoped) that Mr. Cane would be ready to break any time now, given his age. I mean, seriously, how long do canes last, anyway? Master remained unmoved, certain that Mr. Cane will continue to function for many years to come, and if not, then he will quickly be replaced with another version of Mr. Cane.
No matter my love/hate relationship with Mr. Cane, I do love it when Master tells me He wants to hurt me. Even if Mr. Cane is involved.
Oh. I have never heard those words. They hit me right in the gut too.
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