Bit snowed under at work right now, so apologies if I go a bit quiet. I think work are trying to see how much I can cope with before I flip and go on a nude rampage through the office. (Something for you to picture, there...)
On a funner note, I was a very lucky girl on Friday night because BH gave me just what I wanted and needed. Not a meal out; not flowers; not an expensive present. What he gave me couldn’t be bought in the way that a box of chocolates could be, but it was still unquestionably a gift: one that I would have gladly traded any other for. On Friday night I was given a sound, and agonising, beating with the riding crop.
BH really does indulge me. I had been itching for a taste of the crop for ages, with my anticipation primed further by a sexy BDSM story a reader has been treating me to by email, and during this past week I have been quite simply desperate for it. As is my wont I had the whole thing envisaged exactly, right down to the sort of things I wanted BH to say, and as we lay in bed on Thursday night I told him every last detail of my sordid wish. Of course he was free to take or leave my suggestions as he liked: I’m not that much of a control freak. The only thing I absolutely insisted upon was for him not to hold back; I asked him to really let me have it.
On Friday night I got it.
Unusually for our play, there was no roleplay scene-setting or preamble: we just set ourselves up and launched straight into it. Setting me up involved stripping down to my panties and lying face down on the bed, my hips propped up by pillows. My wrists were tied to the bedposts with school ties, the ball gag was popped into my mouth and fastened securely and my panties were pulled down just past my bottom. One naughty girl, bound and helpless, ready and waiting for her thrashing, heart pounding with overwhelming anticipation.
The thrashing had three sections, as per my choreography. (Bless BH!) The first began with BH scolding me whilst teasing me with the crop, running it over my body, castigating me for my wickedness and letting me know that I would be a very sore and very sorry little bitch by the time he had finished with me. He told me that I deserved what I had coming… that I was his to do with as he pleased... all manner of wonderful, strict things that made me wild with excitement. And then, just when I was ready to burst with anticipation, WHAP! – the crop was applied to my right cheek, very hard. A long, delicious interval, with more scolding, more denigration, then WHAP! – my left buttock was scorched. Another pause, another stroke to my right cheek. The same electrifying interval, filled with BH’s scolding and my muffled whimpers, and the crop returned to my left cheek. Everything was done so deliberately and authoritatively... I was in heaven. I felt so fantastically naughty, and wretched, and horny, and owned: a wanton slavegirl being given her richly deserved and badly-needed punishment. That I was precluded from speaking by the ball gag was wonderful, and added incalculably to the intoxicating feeling of abjectness. Usually I whimper apologies and pleas when I’m spanked, but with the gag in I could only moan incomprehensibly... and BH even scolded me for doing that! (YUM!)
I was given a couple of dozen in this deliciously erotic, slow-burning manner, and then it was onto phase two.
This part dovetailed with the first in that, before that beating was over, BH calmly informed me that he would presently be inspecting my pussy... and that I would be in dire trouble if I had become aroused without permission. When the time for inspection came, without a word, but with plenty of strict authority, he yanked my panties down my thighs a few inches further and slipped his hand between my legs. A gasp of outrage – I was wickedly, shamefully wet! What a filthy little slavegirl!
As was quite proper and correct the crop was taken to me with vigour, at a much faster tempo, and the tops of my legs (freshly exposed by my panties being lowered) were treated to plenty of coruscating strokes of their own. Whereas I had remained fairly still and quiet during the first sequence, now I bucked and squirmed and pulled at my bonds and moaned with desperation into my gag. Again, I was scolded for my wickedness at doing so... (:D) It was not lost on me that, had I suddenly changed my mind and actually wanted BH to stop, I wouldn’t have been able to tell him... I was quite literally helpless and had no choice but to take whatever he saw fit to give me. Just like the wicked little wench I was pretending to be.
And I loved that. Total subjugation; total immersion into a state that I fantasise about so often. No safety net, no escape. It was thrilling.
The third and final part of the thrashing was where, just as I had asked him, BH really let me have it. No holding back, at all. Every stroke was as hard as hell, and they came very fast. It was a fearsome, pitiless thrashing. And I ABSOLUTELY LOVED it. Writhing, weeping, howling into my gag, my master caring nothing for my distress (quite the opposite, in fact: he upbraided me for my wantonness in making such a display, ohh!) I knew nothing but pain and ecstatic, transcendent, lustful delight for the entire time I was beaten. And that was, as far as I could tell, an interminably and agonisingly long time.
And then it was over.
It would of course have been ecstasy if BH had taken me there and then, while I was still bound and gagged, his hard body slamming against my agonised behind, my muffled shrieks a depraved mixture of pleasure and pain. But I had already been treated to so much, and it was time for me to treat him. I was released from my bonds and ungagged, and ordered to pleasure my master. And I did just that, with pleasure. I kissed every single inch of him, slinking round and over him like an animal. I massaged him. I licked him. And I took his big, hard cock in my wicked little mouth and gave him the best BJ I possibly could.
And then he took hold of me, laid me down on the bed, pushed my legs apart and fucked my brains out. Maybe he should have put the gag back on me, because I howled up a storm.
Lying curled up with him afterwards, utterly blissful and content, my ass quite simply glowing, I thought how I wouldn’t have swapped places with anyone in the world.
On a funner note, I was a very lucky girl on Friday night because BH gave me just what I wanted and needed. Not a meal out; not flowers; not an expensive present. What he gave me couldn’t be bought in the way that a box of chocolates could be, but it was still unquestionably a gift: one that I would have gladly traded any other for. On Friday night I was given a sound, and agonising, beating with the riding crop.
BH really does indulge me. I had been itching for a taste of the crop for ages, with my anticipation primed further by a sexy BDSM story a reader has been treating me to by email, and during this past week I have been quite simply desperate for it. As is my wont I had the whole thing envisaged exactly, right down to the sort of things I wanted BH to say, and as we lay in bed on Thursday night I told him every last detail of my sordid wish. Of course he was free to take or leave my suggestions as he liked: I’m not that much of a control freak. The only thing I absolutely insisted upon was for him not to hold back; I asked him to really let me have it.
On Friday night I got it.
Unusually for our play, there was no roleplay scene-setting or preamble: we just set ourselves up and launched straight into it. Setting me up involved stripping down to my panties and lying face down on the bed, my hips propped up by pillows. My wrists were tied to the bedposts with school ties, the ball gag was popped into my mouth and fastened securely and my panties were pulled down just past my bottom. One naughty girl, bound and helpless, ready and waiting for her thrashing, heart pounding with overwhelming anticipation.
The thrashing had three sections, as per my choreography. (Bless BH!) The first began with BH scolding me whilst teasing me with the crop, running it over my body, castigating me for my wickedness and letting me know that I would be a very sore and very sorry little bitch by the time he had finished with me. He told me that I deserved what I had coming… that I was his to do with as he pleased... all manner of wonderful, strict things that made me wild with excitement. And then, just when I was ready to burst with anticipation, WHAP! – the crop was applied to my right cheek, very hard. A long, delicious interval, with more scolding, more denigration, then WHAP! – my left buttock was scorched. Another pause, another stroke to my right cheek. The same electrifying interval, filled with BH’s scolding and my muffled whimpers, and the crop returned to my left cheek. Everything was done so deliberately and authoritatively... I was in heaven. I felt so fantastically naughty, and wretched, and horny, and owned: a wanton slavegirl being given her richly deserved and badly-needed punishment. That I was precluded from speaking by the ball gag was wonderful, and added incalculably to the intoxicating feeling of abjectness. Usually I whimper apologies and pleas when I’m spanked, but with the gag in I could only moan incomprehensibly... and BH even scolded me for doing that! (YUM!)
I was given a couple of dozen in this deliciously erotic, slow-burning manner, and then it was onto phase two.
This part dovetailed with the first in that, before that beating was over, BH calmly informed me that he would presently be inspecting my pussy... and that I would be in dire trouble if I had become aroused without permission. When the time for inspection came, without a word, but with plenty of strict authority, he yanked my panties down my thighs a few inches further and slipped his hand between my legs. A gasp of outrage – I was wickedly, shamefully wet! What a filthy little slavegirl!
As was quite proper and correct the crop was taken to me with vigour, at a much faster tempo, and the tops of my legs (freshly exposed by my panties being lowered) were treated to plenty of coruscating strokes of their own. Whereas I had remained fairly still and quiet during the first sequence, now I bucked and squirmed and pulled at my bonds and moaned with desperation into my gag. Again, I was scolded for my wickedness at doing so... (:D) It was not lost on me that, had I suddenly changed my mind and actually wanted BH to stop, I wouldn’t have been able to tell him... I was quite literally helpless and had no choice but to take whatever he saw fit to give me. Just like the wicked little wench I was pretending to be.
And I loved that. Total subjugation; total immersion into a state that I fantasise about so often. No safety net, no escape. It was thrilling.
The third and final part of the thrashing was where, just as I had asked him, BH really let me have it. No holding back, at all. Every stroke was as hard as hell, and they came very fast. It was a fearsome, pitiless thrashing. And I ABSOLUTELY LOVED it. Writhing, weeping, howling into my gag, my master caring nothing for my distress (quite the opposite, in fact: he upbraided me for my wantonness in making such a display, ohh!) I knew nothing but pain and ecstatic, transcendent, lustful delight for the entire time I was beaten. And that was, as far as I could tell, an interminably and agonisingly long time.
And then it was over.
It would of course have been ecstasy if BH had taken me there and then, while I was still bound and gagged, his hard body slamming against my agonised behind, my muffled shrieks a depraved mixture of pleasure and pain. But I had already been treated to so much, and it was time for me to treat him. I was released from my bonds and ungagged, and ordered to pleasure my master. And I did just that, with pleasure. I kissed every single inch of him, slinking round and over him like an animal. I massaged him. I licked him. And I took his big, hard cock in my wicked little mouth and gave him the best BJ I possibly could.
And then he took hold of me, laid me down on the bed, pushed my legs apart and fucked my brains out. Maybe he should have put the gag back on me, because I howled up a storm.
Lying curled up with him afterwards, utterly blissful and content, my ass quite simply glowing, I thought how I wouldn’t have swapped places with anyone in the world.
Wow. Great scene. I really liked the way you captured your feelings during the session.
ReplyDeleteTerrific post.
Hug,
joey
That sounds great! Oh the gaps between strokes. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteI am jelous of your ball gag. Next time you could ask to be ravished immediately your beating is over, especially bound, then you still have your oral pleasures for later.
I did enjoy the last post. Part 3
Thanks. Harry
Penny, you are so unrepentantly naughty. How are you ever going to learn?
ReplyDeleteI think you need another beating for enjoying the first one so much. ;)
Penny, I'm not one to judge, but I do believe you deserved everything you got. :)
ReplyDeleteVery pleased that you got what you both wanted and needed, darling.
ReplyDeleteThank you, everyone! I'm very lucky to have got what I wanted (and needed). And I will be on my very best behaviour from now on to make sure I don't get it again.
ReplyDeleteThere might be a fib somewhere in the above statement.