Wednesday, September 18, 2013
We stood in the hallway, simply chatting with a group, when Master for some reason (does he need a reason?) told Scott he could smack my boob. It is dangerous being surrounded by sadists. Master held my arms behind my back (what, I'm going to run away? I was backed into a corner of the hallway already). I think he just likes restraining me.
Scott raised his arm with a look of utter glee and smacked the heck out of my right breast- just once. I still have the outline of his fingers there, faintly, but still there.
Then Master said to Sassy "Symmetry is important, why don't you do the other one?" Scott took hold of one of my arms, and she did a hard smack. Then she got a tip from Scott on how to smack someone harder and more often without making your hand hurt (sadists sharing tips- very scary!). So she did it again, harder this time. I still have a bit of bruise from that also.
The worst (best?) part is after the knee weakening pain faded, the good pain came in, and I felt this big old smile spreading across my face. For some reason this is faintly embarrassing when it is pointed out to me that I'm enjoying it.
Master smacked me a few times then, just for fun, before someone helpfully (!) got out the road rash paddle, made from stair tread with a handle, and he smacked my ass with that a bunch, first lightly and then working up to worse and worse. It is an arm saving toy, because it causes a lot of hurt with little effort.
Later in the evening, it was time to play on the cross. He tied my arms, with me facing the cross, and began to flog me. For some reason, and this happens sometimes, we did not feel in synch. Every blow either felt too soft or too hard.
I wasn't reacting the way he wanted at all and he paused several times to ask me if I just wanted to go to bed. This made me very upset, because I couldn't stand the thought that he wasn't enjoying himself and wanted to quit. Even worse was the thought that he'd only do it for me. I wanted this so badly. I started crying, and couldn't get the words out to explain why. When he asked again if I wanted to stop I begged him to keep going. He said he wasn't going to hit me again unless I stopped sobbing. (Messed up masochist logic going on here, eh?). I got myself under control and he used the cane, and the leather slapper on me, and the synching up was starting to happen. When he used the wooden paddle I started a little bit of the good kind of soft sobbing.
It was feeling really good when he untied me and took me down. I begged him to use the whip on me.
He made me stand up against the wall on my tippy toes and began whipping. Yum! Every time my feet started to lower to be flat on the ground he hauled me up on tip toes again by the nipples until I figured out (duh) that he wanted me to stay on tip toes. He turned me around and did the front too, although much softer than the back. Until he whipped my cunt. It is impossible to do that soft enough. Ouch!
Then he led me over to the couch (I hadn't realized we had an audience) and after checking to make sure it was ok, pushed my head down into kaya's lap and made me raise up my ass so he could whack it some more. At this point I'm not sure anymore what he was using, the whip or something else, but it was all around wonderful and painful. Then he told me to cum, and that is when I goo'd on the carpet (blush). See the picture below for my approximate position.
I expect a prettily crocheted marker there saying "Ksst's Goo Spot" next time we visit.
Also, I am absolutely positive Master asked if he should get me a towel first, before making me come, and kaya said "No, it will be fine" so it is all HER fault. :P
No, that's not my bed. And I'm not dead. I was getting worked over by two men, and looking pretty out of it at that point. ...
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