Pain Satiation (2)

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alexandraa
Posted by alexandraa on Mon 19 Feb 07, 4:51 PM

I had a craving. A need to feel pain, not any old pain, but sexual erotic cruel and evil pain, to feel that red hot passionate intensity that only sado-masochism will bring to sex. It seemed it had been a long time. My mind plays games with me. My body craves the heat, the burn of the lash. My mind dithers, wants it, hates it, fears it.

I'd spoken to the Evil One about it. Brave and fearless over the distant lines of communication. It all seemed like a good idea at the time. Easy to talk with longing and desire when things may or may not happen. When maybe we'll just laugh about it and slake our desires in any number of ways, involving control and torment but not severe pain. A bit of a whack maybe. But not a full on take me away before I cry session.

The red rag had been shaken though. The gauntlet thrown at his feet. His evilness awoken, the monster known as sadist opens its eyes lazily and slowly, with a knowing smile spreading across its features. Muscles were flexed and knuckles cracked, whips shaken out, flogger tails caressed, canes and crops swished.

Fear grasps my heart and wrings it. I know no big blue eyed look will make a difference at this point. No snuggling against his side nor pulling up of duvets is going to distract him. But then of course I want it too. Want to feel the fear and the pounding of my heart as the blood rushes. I want to feel the physical expression of his dominance, his enjoyment of SM play, his delight in our joint pleasure, albeit an aggressive and cruel pleasure.

He is distant and cold now. Removed from me, brusque and demanding. There's no way I'm going to do anything but leap to his slightest command. Submit to his every evil whim. No warm up, just the whip.

Can he really be so cruel? The whip is a strange beast to submit to. Its bite so sharp and instant, yet pain that flees within seconds. So hard to take it, to not move, to be quiet. My body screams with each strike, my mind is sure he is parting my flesh with each lash. I have a vivid image in my head of blood welling and skin splitting. It must be so surely? The whip terrifies me, a weapon that could cause extraordinary damage. Impossible to keep my body relaxed and accepting. Each pain filled slicing makes me wonder at my own desires and plead for…. something….. I'm never quite sure what at those moments. To stop, not stop? To be less hard or harder?

He changes weapon. Please let it be a flogger. Something thuddy and sweetly sensuous, bringing heat and passion with each blow. But no. It's a cane. No longer strikes like cuts, but thud and sting all at once. No remorse, no gentle drumming. Blows that land and will leave marks for weeks. Slashing the air, striking pain deep into my back. I can't bear it. Can't take it. Want it need it, hate it. No. No. I can't I can't. He offers to stop. Ha. That's no offer as well I know. A demand that I beg for him to continue is what that is. And so I do. Hating it yet wanting it badly, the words are spit from my lips.

Then the crop and now, after all this, he thinks it's time to count. 10, 20, 50 he asks. No question at all. My mind screams and I fail to answer quickly enough and so 50 it is. He starts. Crop landing, here and there, hard and less hard. He is distracted by my movement so has to start again, but surely we were on 26? I daren't even say it. Finally 76 blows later we are at 50.

He drags my head up by the hair. You want more don't you? All I can do is laugh helplessly. I've hated it but yes dear god do I want more. 10, 20, 50 he barks. 50 more it is. How can I take that? I can't, no really I can't.

We reach that point, that wonderful point, where my body just goes mmmm mmm mmmm relaxes and starts to enjoy the pain. Each strike is vivid and pain filled, yet there is delight and passionate intensity too. My body starts to throb with sexual need. As each blow lands all I can think of is how I need his sex.

I know now we are at danger point because now I would just take anything he threw at me. My body just writhes happily in the red heat of pain pleasure. I now have no ability left to judge how I feel. No idea nor care of how far he goes, how deeply he might mark me, how much blood he might draw. I touch his body. He will keep me safe, wont he? It reassures me to have physical contact with him. I know his sadist is roused and partying, just as my masochist is toasting every blow. It's a scary place to be, thrills beyond belief and then some.

I know I'm exhausted and know I have no desire at all for him to stop, even though the tiniest butterfly kiss would raise screams, never mind yet another crop blow. But more is what I crave. It's complete insanity. Somehow we have reached the end of this final set of counting. I've no idea how we got there so fast and am sad we've reached that point. Aware my skin really can't take more. I'm very lucky his control holds us both safe.

And now I want his hands on me. Touching the heat of my skin, bringing cries of pain to my lips. The tenderest of touches raising fresh agony. And so to sex we go. Passion, intensity and heat like nothing on earth.

For days to come my back will sport whip, cane and crop marks. Vivid as if they were landed just minutes ago.

Sex and BDSM, interwoven, inseparable and satiation without compare.

Edited Mon 19 Feb 07, 4:56 PM by alexandraa

Replies

19 Feb 07, 5:27 PM
lucky_1
UK, 3 yrs
Bliss isn't it?

The more that pleasure turns into pain, the more inclined I am to stand and take it. Texas 2005

8 May 07, 5:33 PM
Prescription
24 mths The most beautiful description I have ever read - I was there and involved in every stroke.


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