This post is set about a month ago. I wrote it on the train back to London. For context we live around 400 miles away from each other. We had seen each other 2 weeks prior to this for my graduation and a night of living out some of my most depraved fantasies.
Still covered in welts and bruises, my nipples still showing evidence of much loved abuse I sat on the train assuming I knew what would happen during the next 4 days. I had agreed to be his slave. Truth is, I had no idea I would feel the way that I did. I was still on a high from seeing him two weeks ago, still loving the whimper of putting on a bra across my beaten nipples, but I felt as though I had not seen him in months. A smile never left my face throughout the three hour train journey, all of which was spent checking my reflection and texting him. I could tell he was ad excited as I was and that was the most amazing feeling.
As I got there I was told to always sit on the floor, I was not allowed on the furniture without permission, because I was late, in the beginning I was the furniture. During the last two weeks he had acquired some new toys. Thee studded wooden paddles and one deceivingly pretty kitty dragon. My arse instantly marked and bruised and it was a pain I had not really had much experience with. A whip was a quick harsh sting. These paddles delivered a harsh sting from the studs but a lasting thump from the wooden paddle. I quickly fell into a love hate relationship as I accustomed to this new dimension of pain.
I welcomed each blow, I welcomed the lasting pain from each time I sat down because I needed it. I needed him. I’m not writing this post to talk about the different feelings or levels of pain from each toy. This particular blog was written because I realized something about myself I did not really understand until he pulled me close to him and sat me between his legs. It is not hard to admit that in the past, while we have always talked and we have eaten together, when we see each other we play. However in this instance this was 4 days of us, the mundane tasks such as watching tv or waiting for him to come home from work. so insignificant an event but it evoked a sense of belonging. As he watched tv and I sat cuddled between his leg and he occasionally ran his hand through my hair. Or as I sat on my knees in the hallway waiting for him to come home and the smile on his face when he did, the call for me to go to him. No need for a whip, a belt, a wand, a paddle or a clamp I belonged. I wasn’t there purely to be beaten or for sex. I was there because he wanted me there.
I did know I belonged with him before this of course, that is something we both knew a long time ago, our relationship isn’t conventional but it works for us, always has, always will. It was the power in such a small touch distracting from a normal activity that showed me we are so much more than just play partners.
Of course we did play. Even now as I write something that was set a month ago my body is still covered with faint marks of one of the most extreme scenes we have done. I will leave you with the image, tied, unable to move on all fours, anal hook, whips, leather straps, paddles, snap dragon, kitty dragon all implements I had felt before but all in a quick and lasting succession until we both knew I had broken. He lifted me up and I laid in his arms and cried and drifted away.
Discover me 