Sometimes you need to get away. Yesterday Richard decided I needed to go to the beach. He has told me to go to the beach before just because it is my favorite place and it pulls my mind into focus. This time he decided he was going to take me himself. It is almost 8:30 Saturday morning and we are laying here together in bed. We slept all night with the doors to our room wide open enjoying the hurricane like conditions outside. Sheets and sheets of rain fell almost all night and we fell asleep with the smell of rain and lightening and thunder around us. I love the beach.
The sun is now up and the beach is calling to us. We however are not up yet…not even dressed. We have been laying here together half awake talking about last night. What is always nice about Richard is that he understands the importance of words. He knows when and how to use them and knows their effect on me. I need to hear his voice and feel his touch to get me through the pain of a scene with him. Last night his words and his touch enhanced what I was able to give him in terms of my submission. He started by putting my ankle and wrist restraints on. When he does this I assume that whatever he plans on doing to me requires me being tied down. That is something else that is interesting to me. There are times that I need to be tied down to take what he expects of me and other times I want to see if I can take it by sheer force of will. Can my own submission keep me still, keep me focused and obedient? Once my restraints were on he had me lay on my stomach sideways across the bed. He tied my arms down by my sides pulling them slightly so I was forced to remain in place. The few moments it takes him to tie me down…or up depending on what he is going to do is the beginning of my mind heading deeply into the submissive head space. He reminded me that my legs were not tied and he expected them to remain still. I told him this morning as I was curled against him that words like that are perfect. I love that type of direct speach from him, him telling me what he expects calmly like he does. There is no threat in his voice none of the harshness you might expect. He knows I a goning to do my best to obey him- he is simply telling me his expectations with all the confidence in the world that he has me at the point where I can do what he asks. I like that. It is a reminder of what is never far from my mind. I also like that he doesn’t plan his words…their effect on me is known but his words come out quite extemporaneously.
He started with the flogger. My perfectly beautiful white doe skin flogger. He typically starts slow with the flogger. In my head as he flogs me there are usually two thoughts that dominate…one is that the flogger could quite possibly be the worlds greatest D/s implement. Depending on the user it can be hard or soft gentle or biting. I like both. The other thought is the smell of the leather. I love how he brushes it over my skin and drags it across my face…I love to feel the taps and then the sting of it until finally it lands like a thud and hurts as bad as any cane. It is a pain like no other because it lands so softly even as it slams into your skin the sensuality of the flogger cushions the blow. Did I mention I love my flogger.
Richard was my first flogging experience, actually the very first time he touched me it was with a flogger. Off and on last night as I was tied there to the bed he would take my mouth. I say take because that is exactly what is was. A pause in the flogger told me his cock woud soon be pressed gainst my lips forcing its way inside my mouth. I like how he holds my head still…how he can use my mouth like he does. I love the words he tosses down at me as he is inside my mouth. Words that in any other context would break my heart…but coming from him like this can’t be described with a word less than perfect. It adds so much to the experience. “What a cocksucker you are…aren’t you? Say it…tell me you are a cocksucker.”
I hesitiate only a moment before confirming what I already know. As he speaks his fingers are inside me pressing deeply into me..he tells me how wet I am …what a slut I am for getting so wet for him. All the while knowing that he loves it…he loves that I turn into a slut for him in my submission. It is OK…I can’t hide my desire or the impact of what the pain does to my body. I wouldn’t even try. I love the depth of his dominance over me. I loved knowing that when the flogging was over he had only just stated. He pulled me slightly up on my knees and brought the flogger down five or six more times from behind me. He told me to open my legs and suddenly I felt his mouth on me from behind. My first instict was to struggle because he shouldn’t put his mouth on me there! Yet he did and I loved it..loved the feel of his tongue circling that almost secret part of myself. There was no point to struggle..he would take me anyway he wanted to and that idea is pretty driven into my head by now. Plus it felt amazing…it was an unbelievable feeling to have his mouth there and his fingers pressing into me. I am unapologetically highly and multi orgasmic. And sometimes my orgasms just fall upon me wave upon wave until it is impossible to know when one ends and another starts. Such was the case last night. Richard told me this morning that there were times last night that he pressed his hand against my cunt and I just shuddered.
He caned me next. He brought two canes with him..one smaller and the other just a little bit thicker. He taps me first…up and down as if warming me up for what is to come. When the actual caning starts he delivers a slow series of hard strokes across my bottom. I want to lift myself back up to him after every stroke but only manage to do it every few strokes. It was a hard caning but it ever escapes me that the feeling of the cane biting into my skin is a favorite of mine. It is how it sounds…how it lands how it hurts and then spreads and the pain goes on and on until the moment it stops and then the next stroke comes down. I wanted it badly..needed to feel the cane last night and could have taken whatever he asked me to. I love offering myself to him in this way. I love the words that come from his mouth….the verbal evidence of his dominance over me. That somewhere along the line it became alright for him to call me names and force me to humiliate myself by agreeing and even repeating them. As the cane came down harder my submission to him deepened. I like when I feel that happening and I like when it happens that way. It is a real growth in how he can take me…and just a reminder of how very real this all is. This is not a game and we are not playing. He gives me real pain because he likes hurting me I take it because I like being hurt and I love pleasing him. Last night I pleased him. I got several “good girls” last night as I took all that he expected….as I asked for more even before he told me to. I wanted to be hurt last night with the lightening and the thunder and the rain right outside our door. I told him our room smelled like rain and salt and everything perfect about the beach…and it smelled like us and everything perfect that we offer each other.
Last night he left me tied a long time…I remained there on the bed tied down through the flogging and through the caning….through the brutal taking of my mouth. Through him pulling me back up on my knees and pushing into me from behind filling me and making me press back againt him in my eagerness to be taken. I was reveling in my submission to him and the pleasure was thick around us.
I heard myself cry out as the the cane continued to dance on my skin but it was as much about pleasure as pain and that is the best kind. Finally he pulled out of me and pressed me down on the bed turning me over on my back. He straddled my head and told me to focus on my own tongue and pleasing him. As my mouth licked and tasted him everywhere the cane was biting into my breasts….snapping against my nipples. I was lost in the weight of his balls against my lips and the taste of him against my toungue…..I tried so hard to focus on him and less on the pleasure of what the cane was doing to me. I asked him if I could touch myself and he said yes so my fingers played in my own wetness. I opened my cunt lips for him and he started caning me right there…small taps agains my clit over and over until I was writhing beneath him in pleasure and pain. Hearing my own muffled words against the saltiness of his skin but not knowing if it was pleasure or pain that made me cry out. He shifted and tilted my head back…he pressed his cock into my mouth and I felt him shudder as I tasted him thck on my tongue. I held him in my mouth sucking wanting to get every drop of what he gave me. As he pulled out of my mouth he gave me permission to swallow.
It was an amazing night and finally somewhere between 2 and 3 we fell asleep. One minute we were contemplating finding an all night diner to go eat and the next second I was out. Sorrounded by my beach and the smell of the rain and thunder and everything dominating about Richard…..everything loving and nurturing about his hands now soft on my my skin…..and everything amazing about the give and take of what we are to each other I drifted off to sleep.
Sometimes you just have to get away.