Last night he gave me the choice- beating or fucking. After much hemming and hawing and wishing for both, I said I'd have the beating. Now, he didn't tell me until this morning that the correct answer would have been "Whatever you want, Master". Which I totally should know by now, but I can claim that my brain was confused by surging hormones. Or something. Dumb slave.
He was quite thorough with the paddle, so this morning I had some tender spots. He also invented a fun (?) new game called "If you breath, I hit you". Not a fancy name, but accurate enough. It's kind of a breath play thing, I guess, but I have to hold my breath as long as I can, then when I finally have to breathe again he hits me with the paddle a whole bunch while he makes me orgasm at the same time. By the time the game started I was already plenty sore and those extra paddlings were quite painful.
|"Here, hold this for a picture" he says|
|A cup paddle made by "Paddles of Distinction" AKA his "subspace communicator"|