Oh No, He Did Not Just Do That!

I asked to be beaten last night, since it had been all of... um...three days since the last time.   Lots of sex, humiliation, slapping, and nipple pinching fun since then, but no just out-and-out beatings since Wednesday.  

Yes, I realize that is not a long time, but... what can I say?  The more the better?  I have no excuses, actually, and I'm not even sure why I feel guilty about it.   I asked if he would and he said "Maybe, we'll see".  Which means, in Master-language... "Maybe, we'll see."

I tried hard not to expect anything, as my conscious practice of having no expectations has proven to give my mind more peace than getting all ramped up and expectant beforehand.   

We watched episode one of the first season of Breaking Bad first, which was really good.   We've watched some of the later ones, but never the whole thing in order.   I enjoy the humor, and the general wrongness of the whole situation.

After it was over, he started with a boffer sword, and whacking my butt.  It's not exactly painful, even to be hit hard, with an insulation foam/duct tape wrapped pvc pipe, but it does have that deeply thuddy, erotically pleasant, ouchy feeling as he hits the same spot repeatedly.

He made me wait in our room for quite a while then.  First I did my yoga stretching exercises. Then I knelt in position for a while.  Then some more stretching.  More kneeling.  When I heard him approaching I got properly into position.  I don't mind waiting, even though sometimes I complain on here about it.   It gets me into a quiet and submissive mindset.  It is a ritual that I enjoy, and  I'd actually be really upset if I had to give up this little ritual more than just occasionally.  Very rarely he tells me not to wait but to get straight into bed.   I'd prefer to wait for him though, unless I'm really sick and just want sleep.   

When he came in he ordered me to lie on the floor and he gave me a lovely long and painful caning.   I was quite a bit floaty when he went and got something from his dresser.  He said something about carving his initials in my ass, and I mumbled "Yes Master".   Sure, his initials sounded wonderful at that moment.  

He ran something cold, sharp and ouchy across tender spots on my butt.  I didn't really think he was going to cut me, but the area was so sore already that it hurt.  Then he pressed it up against my cunt lips.  I stayed soooo still.  I whimpered.  I was really scared now.   

I had my eyes closed tight the whole time, until he told me to roll over on my back.   I did so, trying to get a peek at what was in his hand, but he kept it hidden.  I closed my eyes again and felt the sharp metal at my throat.  He told me to be very still because he wanted to rape me at knife point.  

Oh god.   

I was as still as could be.

  I whimpered in fear.  What if it slipped?  What if he didn't mean to cut me but did?   Even when I opened my eyes I could not see what was in his hand because it was hidden by his hand and arm, and my inability to look down at my own neck without moving a muscle.  I just felt cold sharp metal on my neck.  It spurred my arousal all the more. 

After a long time of him enjoying my fear, and the fucking, he showed me what was in his hand.  A Leatherman tool with only the pliers out.   Raped at pliers point!   How utterly ridiculous it seemed then and I laughed.   I pointed out the wire cutters on the tool and said how they could easily take off a nipple.

Leatherman Multi Tool