Home for Wayward Sluts: Love Note from a slave #2 http://kinkunveiled.blogspot.ca/?zx=8dcd321b700cd6d8

Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Love Note from a slave #2

http://kinkunveiled.com/love-note-from-a-slave-2/
I had never cried before during a scene. Then again, I had never been hit so hard, so unforgivingly, or so repetitively in such a short amount of time. He had proven to be different from the other Doms I had experienced before though. He had already shown me so many new and wonderful things in just two sessions alone.

The punishment was to be 47 lashes on the backside. They were to be administered with His leather belt. Needless to say I was terrified. His dominance assured me, though, that there was nothing to fear. Not really. He had me bent over the bed, bare-assed, hands over my head, ring gag in my mouth, and face being pressed into my soaked panties.

I was fine until the thirteenth lash came down. He reminded me that thirteen was His favorite number, and He wanted it to really count. The lash came down hard, so hard that the force of it pushed the first sobs out of me. They came so unexpectedly, and the next thing I knew, tears were streaming down my face. With the ring gag in my mouth, my sobs were loud and I was unable to muffle them or cover them. All I could do was keep crying. Keep counting each lash number out loud. Keep sobbing out "Thank you Sir".

Calling out "yellow" to slow the scene or "red" to stop the scene were not even options for me. Truth is, as bad as it hurt and as overwhelmed as I was, I did not want it to stop. I can't remember a single moment during the punishment that I thought to myself "I wish this was over already". At the same time, it wasn't a pain I enjoyed. It was't a pain that gave me sexual satisfaction. The satisfaction that the punishment evoked was much deeper than that. A satisfaction to my submissive self. A satisfaction that I could and would take every lash He delivered. Too many times had I experienced Doms who treated me like I was so fragile and breakable. At my showing the slightest bit of discomfort they would slow down or stop altogether. He wasn't like that though. He knew I could handle it. Showed me that I could take it. And when it was all said and done, and the tears were still welling up in my eyes and streaming down my face, He looked down at me and smiled His wonderfully beautiful smile. "You were very good," He said. I melted. That's when I knew. This is what I needed. This is what I craved. To be so completely overtaken, so completely overwhelmed. Then, at the end of it all, to look up into a strong, caring, and reassuring face and hear the words "good girl" murmured in my ear.


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