Wednesday, March 17, 2010

A Session

My submissive and I have been seeing each other regularly for 3 years now. He has complete trust in me and has very very few limits left...we've pushed through all of them. This allows me to pretty much have carte blanche, save for a handful of key activities that he looks forward to every time. I prefer to not put much planning into our sessions because we enjoy being "in the moment" and I like to play these sessions by ear. I never really know what mood I'm going to be in until I get going. This time we discovered I was in a "teasing and Sadistic mood," as he later commented.

As soon as we entered the play room, I was engulfed by the usual feelings of "warmth and Sadism" that I get each time I walk into the space. I'll instinctively take a big breath to take it all in and then I'll sigh and smile.
He brought two different CDs with him. He also does this every time. He works in a music and media store. We have developed a lot of rituals with our play time. After a guitar riff starts wafting from the speakers I turn around and command him to "strip!" I often tell him this with a grin, but this time I keep my face emotionless. He quickly starts shedding his clothing as the Allman Brothers are playing "Whipping Post." I make a mental note of the song.
Once he is naked I order him to "kneel on the floor." I slap a posture collar on him. I take the matching cuffs and buckle them onto his ankles. The posture collar has two matching D rings on either side of the neck and so I take a choke chain and attach both ends to both D rings so that it forms a loop leash. His predicament is starting to come together in my mind. I am still dressed in street clothes at this point. I also make a mental note of this and decide I'll find a sexy way to remove the clothes later and work it into the scene somehow.
I quickly walk around surveying the room and pick out what I think are probably a very strong pair of nipple clamps. They have teeth along the inside of them. I look around for nipple clamp weights but do not see any. Instead I grab a handful of metal clips that have significant weight to them. I order him to kneel on a piece of bondage furniture. I attach the nipple clamps. He barely makes a sound-his nipples have become elongated and less sensitive over our years of play. In fact I think he is kind of ambivalent about nipple play/torture in general but I don't like to leave sensitive parts out...especially when it comes to torture. I attach one metal clamp to the chain running from his nipples- still not much reaction. I have him then bend over the bondage/spanking furniture he is on...the chains from his nipples and posture collar are swinging and it makes me smile. I attach the cuffs on his ankles to a metal spreader bar.
I walk around him and then to where his head is, face down at the floor. Under his face I slowly remove a sock and then stretch and spread my toes. I do the same with the other foot under his face. Then I briefly spread my toes again under his nose to allow him a quick whiff. I know that he adores my feet and I delight in being able to tease him with such a simple gesture. I also remove my jeans. I make sure he sees as they drop to my feet and I toss them aside. I am wearing only a black long sleeved shirt and a thong. Beyond knee level, he cannot tell...the posture collar prevents him from moving his head.
I know that I am going to be giving him a beating but I decide at this point that I am not going to give him a warm up. I normally do give him a warm up. He always associates a good warm up- particularly a nice hand spanking- with a good beating. He doesn't really know what is coming so it does not matter. I pick up the first whip.
I have not the right words to describe exactly what a good whipping does for me. It becomes a euphoria not far off from that of sex...but it is at times...even better. But I digress. A light to medium whipping becomes his warm up. I move onto a leather whip. I get into a whipping rhythm. I decide it is a good time to replay the song "Whipping Post." I do so and I get back into my sex.
I see him begin to all too familiar sign that the pain is intense, the endorphins are flowing and his mind is now sailing. His breathing becomes quick and shallow...almost like he is hyperventilating. I am familiar with this sign as well. I have reminded him countless times of the importance of breathing correctly while taking was something I taught myself in my personal experiences with beatings-just focus on your breathing...slowly in and slowly out. Focus on breathing...don't focus on the pain...breathing will get you through. When his mind is gone and his nerves are screaming he isn't even aware of his breath. At that point I usually either take things down a notch or I give him a break, but this time I do not want to stop. I switch to whipping his back...which actually ratchets up the pain even further.
Now instead I try to bring his mind to reality a bit. To keep us connected. To keep him from floating away from me and out of the room. I command him to tell me that he loves the pain. I command him to tell me that he enjoys suffering for me, as I continue whipping his back. I don't need to hear these things. I want him to hear himself saying these things. He says them and I know that he means them. Not only do I already know, but I can hear the affirmation and passion in his voice. I know that he enjoys suffering for me. I ask him how bad the pain is.

"Bad," he manages to sputter.

"HOW BAD?" I continue to whip around his shoulder blades.

"Really bad, Mistress!"

"Are you in serious pain?"

"Yes Mistress."

"What *pop* was *pop* that *pop pop*?"

"I am in serious pain, Mistress!"

He is shaking almost violently at this point. I stop abruptly. I go to him and stroke his hair. He begins to laugh...from the endorphin high...from the relief. I laugh with him. This is practically a ritual in itself- the laughter after the beating has ceased. I laugh simply because he is laughing. I take the palm of my hand and lightly graze over the glowing marks on his back. I remove the nipple clamps and and spreader bar. I have him stand. I light up a post-whip-mental orgasm cigarette. The first hour of our time has flown by.


Mistress Wynter said...

That was fucking delicious!!!!! How I love to read of the pleasures of a Domme in extracting pain.

Nice nice nice, Varla! More of that!