Richard said to me that as my submission grows so does his dominance. He has told me that I am the perfect submissive for him. I feel the same way. I feel as if I am on a journey that is teaching me so much about myself. I have not felt this vast range of emotions in a long time. I have not felt this focused or this pulled together in quite a while. I am without a doubt benefiting from having Richard in my life. I hope he is as pleased with me as I am with him…excuse my shameless attempt to get praise from him. 🙂
I think his head must be amazingly full of ideas of things he can do to me. He is a demanding yet patient teacher and I am his eager student. Together it seems we have made our way to such a good place. I realize that one of the reasons we mesh so well is that we share a similar spirit. A simple way to put it is that I am game for whatever he throws at me. At least I thought I was…..every once in awhile he tosses something my way that takes a bit longer for me to wrap my submissive mind around. Like the time he placed a large roll of plastic wrap in front of me. What in the world could he possibly plan on doing with that? I have since learned. I will save that for another day.
Earlier this week he challenged me. I accepted a certain type of pain from him that I had trouble taking. Some background first. I love nipple pain. I can’t tolerate softness on my nipples, I can’t feel it and it only frustrates me. It has always been that way. I love the way he handles my breasts, the way he pulls ands twists my nipples until all I can do is follow his hand. This is a type of pain I love, this is the type of touch that makes me his. It weakens me. It taps into the strength it takes to not only endure it but to pull it back into myself deep enough to offer it back to him.
Yesterday we met for lunch. I found my usually hyper Dominant kind of mellow and relaxing on the couch waiting for me. I was 15 minutes late- he didn’t blink an eye. My first thought was that he had been smoking something while he waited for me but I knew better than that 😉 I freshened up in the bathroom for a moment and emerged nervous and excited. He was still lying on the couch his feet crossed at the ankles. I stood by his side for a second and he pulled me down and kissed me.
“Turn around and pull up your skirt.” He ran his hands over me and commented on the fading bruises. He told me to turn back around so he could see my cunt. I hate this. I feel as if I am being inspected….OK..OK I love it but don’t tell him.
He touched me and pulled a little on my already damp lips.
“Kneel down here…..I want your mouth on my cock.” As he spoke he was opening his pants. “First, take off your panties.” They were black and silky and I slid them down and tossed them away. I knelt by his side and took his cock in my mouth. His hand was stroking my bottom the entire time. I was becoming increasingly aroused and when I am in that state some of my nervousness fades.
“Take off your skirt.” OK…a subs dilemma…..does he mean take it off while I am sucking his cock or should I stop sucking, take it off and then continue sucking?
I somehow managed to get my skirt off and then resumed sucking his cock. He allowed me to do this a few more minutes before pulling my head away and standing up. He told me he wanted me against the cross. I took a few steps back until my back was pressed against the wood. I looked up at him curious what he had planned. From the table behind me he got the metal nipple clamps. They are evil little piranhas with metal jaws. He secured one on each nipple but didn’t use the sharp evil pinching side. I also noticed he didn’t restrain me to my new cross. I figured he wasn’t a hard pain yet. It pinched because he had them tight but they weren’t biting yet. He pulled on the small chain connecting the clamps and the pain intensified. He dropped the chain between my breasts and the weight pulled on my nipples. He attached a heavy clamp, you know the kind that connects something from both sides, to the chain. After adding one he soon added another. Immediately my nipples ached. They hurt. I had to fight asking him to take them off. Richard watched me for a second to see how I was dealing with the pain. He pushed my hair off of my face.
“Good.” He said. “Good Girl” Only I wasn’t being a good girl. I had my hands clenched behind me tight just so I didn’t take them off myself. I pressed my head back into the wood and tried to breath deep. I wanted to ignore the trickle of wetness that I felt between my legs. I was dripping. He connected a small metal wrench to one of the connectors and the pain once again intensified. I realized as I peeked down at my nipples that the more weight he added to the chain the tighter the clamps became and the deeper the small jaws bit into my skin. Surely this was enough. It had to be.
I was breathing heavy and I felt dampness down my back from trying to handle the pain. Yet it wasn’t enough. Richard wanted me to take more. He knew I could. He told me I could as he spoke softly to me. I turned my head away from him not wanting to look at him while he was hurting me. I heard his hand behind me again and I heard a scraping sound as if he was picking something up. He was holding a spreader bar. I pretty heavy one that he had used to keep my legs open for him earlier on in our relationship. He attached it to the other connector.
I can’t describe the amount of pain I was in. I felt my heart racing and my entire body felt as if it was ready to scream. I breathed deeply in and out and felt tears begging to spill over from my eyes. As a general rule I do not cry but for some reason today I almost did. I had to pull something very deep from inside myself to not make the pain be a bad thing. I felt something shift and I realized that I had somehow wrapped my head around the pain and that I was OK. After a few minutes this sort of pain dulls and it doesn’t work so hard on your emotions. At least for me anyway. It helps me too that he is right there, that Richard is very much aware of what it is I am enduring for him. I was suddenly quite shocked at how much I felt I was able to take. Sometimes pain is like that for me. It is hard and hot and then it changes into something that I can hold and manipulate.
In my ears I could hear Richard telling me to breath deep, he was telling me how good I was doing. I couldn’t believe the amount of weight he had attached to me. I was happy with myself that I was still in control. I allowed those feeling to predominate and within another minute I was lost in the wet needy feeling of wanting his hands on me…. of wanting more of the physical domination and less of the pain. They blend so nicely for me and feed into each other so well. My happiness with myself was short lived.
I wonder sometimes why Richard does the things that he does. I think the weights were enough…he had me so close to breaking. I had just pulled myself above the pain and I was at the point of hoping he was ready to take off the clamps. Instead he decided to cane my breasts. He used a thin whippy cane and flicked it in the air a few times before bringing it down across my breasts.
I think I screamed.
It was shocking and intense and it really hurt. He did it over and over…every time the cane came down the weights pulled and bounced biting me even harder. He concentrated on the soft skin right above my nipples and soon I felt raw. He flicked my nipples with the tip of the cane over and over until I felt quite tortured. I felt this amazing combination of good and bad. Every good feeling ever known was coursing through my body. Endorphins were my friend and I tingled all over. I was also lost in the thought that I was doing this for him. That with every stroke of the cane I both gave and took from him. I was also still there. I had not allowed myself to slip into a deep subspace. I am sure I was experiencing some extent of altered state but not enough to take me anywhere. I was actively feeling the pain…my body had just adjusted its threshold of what was tolerable. Finally he stopped. When I could barely breathe, when I could barely stand….he stopped. What is scary to me and maybe even to him too is that we didn’t find my limit that day. Maybe we found his…maybe he is the better judge of what my body can and can not take. I give that responsibility over to him gladly. I trust him with that decision. Please take that from me. I like knowing that even though I beg him to stop he won’t stop until he feels I have had enough just as I love knowing that even if I beg him to not stop he will stop if he feels my body has had enough. It was a hard scene but a gratifying one.
So, what do you do on your lunch hour?