Last night I didn't think he was going to want anything before bed. Thursday night (actually 1:30 am Friday morning) we'd had sex. Then again Friday morning. The kind of sex where you cling to each other for comfort. The kind that reassures you of continuing life in the face of the terrors of death. I felt I was hoarding his semen, his life essence he'd given me. I had a primal almost-wish that he'd give me a baby (I know there won't be, thank goodness, because IUD. But still. It was one of those lower brainstem wishes that has nothing to do with rational thought).
Friday night we watched the last of the new season of Orange Is the New Black (ack, all the rough emotions of the first episode that I almost couldn't watch are back!).
When I came up to bed after letting dogs out one last time and then feeding them, Master was already there. He said he wanted to beat me, and told me to get a blanket and lie on the bed. He snapped the leash to my collar. I lay on my stomach.
He started in teasing me with little taps of the cane, then a huge swishing hard one that hit right beside me on the bed. For minutes and minutes this went on. He said "We call this building anticipation in the Master biz. You know about Master biz? It's a lot like masturbates, but with more slave girls involved." Haha.
He began to hit harder, and I lost track of what was going on. After a while, he said we were going to play the ladder game with 20 rungs. You know the ladder game of caning?
First rung: one blow
Second rung: one, two
Third rung: one, two, three
...and so on.
Then once you get to the top rung, at 20 this time, you have to climb back down the ladder.
At the top rung he told me that we could substitute touches of the hot lighter for some of the rungs if I wanted. I felt a shiver of fear, but at the same time, acceptance of my fate.
"Whatever you want, Master."
I could feel, more than hear or see, his smile.
He said I could orgasm on the final rung.
Top rung: 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15... down to one.
Next rung: 19, 18, 17, 16...
Rung eighteen: a click and heat on the back of my thigh.
Rung seventeen: another touch of the lighter
I was pretty out of it by then. But when I felt it between my legs the fear came rushing back and I squirmed. I couldn't go anywhere, so I don't even know why, but squirming happens.
Rung sixteen on my shoulder muscle (ow): 16, 15, 14...
Around rung five I felt the orgasm building.
It went on like that until the lowest rung: ONE. I came without any other command needed.
He knelt beside my face and told me to suck his cock. The feelings were swirling all around my mind then: relief, gratitude, eagerness to please him were at the top of it all.
Then he ordered me on to my stomach and fucked me from behind to finish.
Mexico! I may get back to blogging eventually, but for now there is laundry to do, food to restock in the kitchen, things to put away......
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