Jack posted: " This year marked my fortieth trip around the sun. This year has been my best year yet, for numerous reasons. Two of those reasons are at the very top of the list…one named Drew and the other Axel. This post isn't about that but if you need a list abo"
This year marked my fortieth trip around the sun. This year has been my best year yet, for numerous reasons. Two of those reasons are at the very top of the list…one named Drew and the other Axel. This post isn't about that but if you need a list about those two and what they do for my life, just message me. I am the best I've ever been because of these two, and it just keeps getting better.
Of course this year's milestone birthday wouldn't have been complete without the customary birthday spanking. So, let's discuss that.
Somewhere, somehow we (or maybe He) pre-calculated a rate of 10 swats, hits, or whatever word you like to call it per year. I knew that gave me at least 400 - reasonable enough. That made my titanium clad dick strain and I knew my mental limits would be pushed. Of course, that made the titanium strain more.
At some point that evening I asked my Master to hurt me to tell him I was ready (He loves when I ask for or volunteer for taking his pain). After getting the clearance from Daddy that I was done with whatever chores he had given me, I was instructed to get four things from the gear closet.
I entered the combination in the lock on the door to the gear room. As the door opened, I remembered what I was instructed to get. A steel paddle, a steel rod(think steel version of a cane), the big, heavy leather paddle, and the paddle I call the tenderizer in my head. It is a small wooden paddle. One side is smooth, and the other side looks like a meat tenderizer.
I closed and locked the gear room and went to the bedroom as instructed. I placed the four implements on the bed. My straining cage gave away my excitement as I kneeled on the floor waiting for my Master. He likes to make me wait for a bit. During this time my mind does different things. I think about looking into his eyes while he hurts me. I think about the beautiful grin on his face. I think about how I love to make him proud of me and how loved those words "good boy" make me feel. I use this time to clear my mind and go to a space that centers me. Of course, my balls have usually turned a purplish blue color by this point.
I hear my Master coming up the stairs. As his footsteps steps get closer, my cage pulses with my heartbeat. As he walks through the door, I look up and our eyes meet. There is a glint of something that I don't know how to describe, but it makes me just want to get closer to him. The trouble is that I can't ever get close enough. Despite that, I plan on always trying to find close enough, but hoping I never really get enough.
He asks me if I need this tonight. Of course I do, but he needs my reason. My reason is that I had a hard week with him traveling and let it get to me. I didn't communicate that well at first, but it had been corrected.
In my uniform (naked with just my collar), I was ordered to get on the couch on all fours. "Yes Master," I replied as I assumed the position. As the steel rod made contact with my ass, I felt the thuddy deep burn that let me know I'm going to feel this one for a few days. One hit after another, I entered a space in my mind that allows me to take my Master's pain. It is good for both of us. I look over my shoulder and see that grin of his and beautiful eyes, a look of pride, a look of determination, a look of kinky unconditional love mixed with a little bit of sadist. Fuck, I'm hurting, swooning, and maybe even leaking. The deep burn of the impact hitting a quite sensitive spot brings my attention back to the spanking. My Master stops to admire the results, the ass he owns is starting to warm and redden a bit. He feels the warmth of this slave's smooth ass and makes some remark about just getting warmed up.
He switches to the steel paddle. The first strike hits hard and deep. I feel a burning sensation run down my leg. My teeth grit, but I make no noise. My Master doesn't like a loud slave. Each impact gets a little harder and more intense than the last. I feel proud. I want to take more of his pain. I want my limits pushed. I want to remember this when I sit for the days to come. I feel my ass start to burn with warmth, and I grin.
He stops for a minute, admiring his work. He reminds me that I need this and tells me I will take more. The sound of his voice makes my caged cock press against the titanium with even more force I'm in a zone of pure submission at this point. I'm mentally begging for more. My physical senses are heightened and I feel in the feeling of pain, pleasure, and pride that I am taking his pain.
The tenderizer is my Master's next choice. The feeling of the spikes on my ass sends a different sensation than the steel implements. It stings with a quick burning, tingling sensation. A rapid succession of hits makes me writhe. My Master grabs the back of my collar, and it helps center me again. I feel the very specific pattern it leaves forming on my almost white hot ass. I know that feeling, and I know I will feel it tomorrow.
My Master switches to the big leather paddle. It is heavy. The first impact on my ass hits with a combination of a heavy thud with the sting of a lighter paddle. The best of both worlds, maybe? This combination along with the fact that I can be hit harder with this particular paddle makes it the one that hurts the most, in the best possible way. I know it hurts, and he knows it hurts. I feel a sense of pride as I take his pain. I can see his pride in me, too. It is written all over his face. He stops. He feels the heat coming off of my bright red ass. My mind is in a place that is hard to describe. I'm near my limits. He knows it. I want more and he knows it. He also knows me well enough that I will push my limits. I trust my Master with every part of my being. This means that he often can sense my limits before I do.
"Do you need more?" He asks with this swoony southern drawl, already knowing my answer.
"Yes Master. I need more."
"How many?"
"Twenty," I answered. Not totally sure that I could take twenty more at this point, but I also wanted to make him proud. Again, he knows my limits better than I do most times. The other side of that is he knows how far he can push those limits. Damn, it is good to be owned!
"I think you can take forty," he says as my dick strains in the cage. I'm more than willing to let him push my limits and responded with a strong "Yes Master". He asked which paddle hurts the worst. Him knowing that it is the leather paddle and me knowing it is his favorite one, this question didn't really need to be asked. We both knew it would be the leather paddle.
He instructed me to go into the bathroom and bend over the tub. I did as instructed and waited. My ass burned and I could feel the heat coming from it. I could also feel a stirring in my cage. The first hit with the leather paddle burned deeply. I started to count in my head, and at some point decided that I don't like the counting, so I quit. It does things with my head and takes me out of the moment. I don't need anymore numbers beyond 1 and 2 for the most important things important in my world anyway. As I kept taking my Master's pain, it hurt and I loved every second of it in some perverse mix of pleasure, pain, and pride. It was amazing, and I one we had pushed a new limit. My body was shaking. My breathing was telling I was at a new limit. My cage was giving me away. All exposing my feelings to my Master without speaking a word. He stopped and held me. "You took sixty," he said with that amazing grin. He held me close. I felt protected, loved, and an amazing bond growing deeper. For the record 400 turned into 700+.
Following this, and every spanking, he will normally allow me on the bed where he can literally wrap almost all of me in his arms and we just wait there until I settle. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we make out. All times, I feel protected, safe and fucking proud. Then, of course, I am sent to put up my toys.
I feel, my words seem to fail to appropriately express what our spankings mean to me. Even better yet, to us. They are more than just a physical act. As I go throughout the following days and sit or my clothes hit just the right sensitive spot, I grin. These feelings of pain (not harm) remind of that moment of being held, loved unconditionally, bringing pride to my Master, and feeling safe in knowing every fucking part of me is owned.
No comments:
Post a Comment