When it is below 0F outside, sometimes the only thing to do is warm up a heating disk and huddle under the covers for a while.
Best Thing Ever
Yesterday I forgot to make the bed, which is always on my list of chores to do, so as I crawled under the crooked and rumpled sheets with him for a little early evening warm up time, I asked if he were going to punish me. I guess I'd been chattering away all evening at him because he said my punishment would be that I'd have to lie there and cuddle and be QUIET. Because I'm a lousy slave, and because I had been CRAVING pain all day, I immediately blurted out,
"That's not much of a punishment! I like cuddling!"
He said sternly, simply "You're not doing very well so far."
(Slave's blatant attempt at manipulation = FAIL).
I bit my tongue on the next reply and cuddled up the way he ordered, with one arm around him.
A thousand things were running through my head, and it took a serious exertion of will not to say any of them. Most were completely inconsequential, random thoughts that wanted to come blurting out. Then I thought of reading my book (he was reading) but I couldn't cuddle properly if I were reading. So I lay still and quietly, focusing on my mouth not opening.
He spoke to me a few times, and it was more difficult than ever not to speak, but I didn't have permission yet.
At the end of an hour he said the punishment was done, and he gave me a light swat on the butt.
I had not expected being quiet to be any sort of punishment at all (I even said so, right?), so I was surprised to find myself feeling very subdued all the rest of the evening. It is amazing the effect they can have on our brains, isn't it?
I was no longer craving pain, and I didn't feel like talking anymore either. When he'd directly ask me a question or there was something I needed to say, I had to practically force the words out. I wasn't feeling sulky or resentful (well, maybe a little), and I didn't want to seem that way by completely clamming up. I was feeling extremely subdued. I have never been punished with "quiet time" before and I really was not expecting it to affect me this way.
We watched a movie then; afterward he asked me if I still wanted to be beaten. With conflicting emotions raging briefly through my mind, (Yes? No? Maybe?) I said yes.
He made me stand up and look him in the eye (I had been prostrate on the ground). He told me to undress. I dropped my robe and stood naked and shivering in front of him.
He reminded me, "The correct answer, the first time I ask, is, 'Whatever you want, Master'".
Ugh. One of these days I'm going to get that right consistently. Yesterday was not that day.
He ordered me over to the dresser and started in hard with the riding crop. When he hit my nipples I twisted and jumped away.
Since I couldn't hold still, he went to get some rope, tied my hands (now I was shivering more in excitement and anticipation than with the cold), then strung me up to the rafters. More hard cropping.
A pause while he took out the bullwhip.
Standing way back, he snapped it over my butt and the backs of my legs. Though he didn't use it at full force, it was still quite stingy. He switched to the shorter whip, and used it on me much harder. I can take just about every part of me hit with that whip, until he gets to my lower back. A really hard slash and I'm ready to give up the keys to the kingdom. Lacking any keys or kingdom, I settled for moaning, straining against the ropes and stamping my feet around on the floor.
Then, cruel Master that he is, he took out a large feather and began tickling me unmercifully. I do not like tickling! I'd rather be whipped.
I was pulling and twisting as much at the rope would allow, which wasn't all that much. He was laughing at me, "This isn't so bad, is it?"
He switched back to the short whip and laid into the fronts of my thighs and cunt. When it slashed over my nipples it made me gasp in agony.
"There, that really hurts, doesn't it? Are you regretting asking for this?"
He tried out a few different canes on my backside before finding the one he wanted- a stiffer rather than springier one. He untied my hands and led me to the bed. I was extremely shaky. I was glad he was holding me up. I thought he was done, but he placed me in position bent over the bed and went back to get the cane. After a few more blows, he ordered me to lie flat on the bed. I squirmed over into position.
Then came the Christmas carols. Being caned as he sang "Holy, Holy, Holy", and "Adeste Fidelis"? A unique experience. Only at our house. As he varies the intensity, the hardest blows never come at the expected place of emphasis in the songs. They are always random and surprising.
After one extended strenuous thumping session he paused and I orgasmed, without command. It was pretty obvious, but he didn't comment until afterward. I have no idea how long the rest of the caning lasted, as I was well into subspace then.
He said I was done, and boy was I ever.
We crawled under the covers.
Then he rolled over and went to sleep.
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