The Best Scene I Couldn’t Ask For

March 8th, 2015

The night started out fairly normal. I’d asked to spend time bootblacking, and he’d even brought an extra pair of boots. He was wearing his new knee-high boots, still fresh and mostly clean. I I just did a basic saddle-soap clean. Rubbing his feet and calves with brush and fingers and micro-fiber. A massage to get him relaxed and shiny for the night. He had things to do, so he left me with his work boots. These got the full laces-out, saddle-soap, and Black Gold treatment. He took them out to the truck when I was done, they were not needed tonight. I was spending the night in service to him, but when he got back, we would have a scene first.

“Pick out a piece of furniture for me to beat you with this.” He handed me the burlap/bamboo stick of awesome.

I walked about a bit, there were a couple open benches and crosses. I hovered near the larger of the two benches, with an eye on a cross, not sure of his intentions. When he returned, I motioned to the bench and pointed to the cross.

“Bench.”

So, I knelt on the bench, legs only having just recovered from the bootblacking, but this was kneeling up instead of down, so I’d be fine. I lay forward and he pulled out a piece of rope. Happy surprise. I haven’t been tied down to a bench in years. Left wrist first, pulled it down to a good place for me to grip and tied in through one of the holes, then over to the right wrist, down to another hole. Then he pulled out the short bit of bamboo.

Damn, bamboo gag, alright, I tell myself, don’t forget to bite down while he’s tying. In it goes and I grab it hard with my teeth, he ties it in good and tight, and then pulls the rope down my back. What the? Interesting. I keep my head down, not wanting to strain my neck and throat by having my head tied back. He takes it down to my waist, knots it and then splits the ropes, effectively tying my waist down to the bench. Nice.

I’m drooling already. Ugh! Stupid gag drooling. Ah well, nothing to be done about it. And it makes him happy to take that control from me. Time for the beaty stick.

Gods that burlap wrapped bamboo feels awesome. He beats my ass a few times, lands a few blows on my back. As long as I remember to breathe out when he hits my back, it’s all good. Otherwise it knocks it out of me anyway. I arch my ass up, keeping tailbone clear as he swings. Moaning happily around my gag.

Then he puts it down for a moment, and starts in with his bare hand. And I’m soaring, heart and body. I love spanking, I’ve been wanting a spanking. On a spanking bench even. But it is one of those things, one of those very sexual things for me, that I am still very embarrassed to ask for. Oh, but he knows me so well.

Some more beating stick, some more spanking, his hand sneaks up and slides under me, grabbing a nipple and making me scream. I’m writhing and moaning and soaring, and drooling. So much drooling. He comes round in front of me and just grins. More beatings and spankings. He grabs me by the hair, lifting my head back, using his free hand to wipe up my drool and smear it all over my face. Ugh, so messy. And then he’s beating my ass again. Gods I love him.

Spanking and beating, and nipple pinching. I’m moaning and screaming and writhing and drooling and dripping.

He pulls out a paddle, pulling louder screams and harder writhing. He wipes my drool all over my face again and again. There is more bare-handed spanking and more beaty stick. One hand reaches under me and lifts me up by the throat. I don’t even know what he’s hitting me with at this point, as I soar higher and higher.

The devil pop is out. He is in front of me, grinning that huge grin.

“Time for your penance. What do you think? Twenty?”

My eyes grow wide and all I can manage is whimpering. I owe him, for not being prepared, for not having a skirt the night before. Fuck. Yes. Anything, for all he has given me. I twist my hands around so I am now grabbing the rope instead of the bench. Digging the fibers into my hands, anchoring. But I cannot speak, I nod.

“Twenty?” I nod again. “You can’t say no to this grin can you?” I shake my head. “You better hold on. Ten for each cheek.” I whimper, laying my head down in my puddle of drool, clinging to the rope. “Ten on the flat side and ten on the rounded.” He goes back behind me.

The devil pop lands and I am screaming. He alternates cheeks and I alternate kicking my legs straight out. The first ten go fairly quickly. Five on each cheek, I barely have time for individual screams. The creator of the pop is called by my screams and they laugh above me.

The next ten are slower. Each hit pulling a scream all its own. Writhing and arching, until I can calm and reset myself. He waits for each one. Letting me scream it out.

Twenty strikes complete. I am pushing the gag forward with my tongue so I can swallow and get a breath. I don’t even remember if he spanked me any more after that.

Then he was untying the gag and I almost forgot to bite down. Put my jaw back in place as he untied my wrists.

“You’re such a mess.” We’re both grinning at each other. “Dripping wet at both ends. You good?”

“Very good, thank you!” I am flying high all night long, as I kneel or stand ready with the beaty stick, helping with or just observing his other scenes. So very grateful for all we have together.

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Writing, Publishing & Family

May 3rd, 2012

Some days I find it harder to write my normal, family friendly blog than others. I don’t have anything to say or I don’t have anything I can say that my parents can read. Lately, this is more of a problem as I want to post about all the work I’m doing, and the projects I have going. I want my family to be proud of me, but I know they would not understand.

Issue 2 of Modern Dungeon Quarterly came out on Tuesday. Ready to be bought at HP MagCloud. I posted the first two articles yesterday as well: Metal Bondage Safety and Spanking Benches. This has taken up a lot of my time, writing articles, interviewing and working with the photographer, editing and then working with toy on layout and my best friend on cover design. I’m really proud of what we’re creating. I want it to grow and become amazing. But even then, I cannot share it with my family. Not if I want to see my nieces and nephew.

I’m also working on another project. I’ve gathered up all the stories and scenes I’ve posted here, and printed them out and proofed them. I want to create little ebooks of my stories. I’m hoping you, my readers are interested in them, too. But when my parents ask what I’m writing lately, all I can tell them is that I blog. I was published in four flash fiction collections, but they only know about one.

My mom bought me some skirts last year, but she has no idea why I started wearing them. Or how often I wear them. They don’t know what I do every weekend. They know I have friends that care for me, but hardly any of their names. They don’t even know about all the love that is in my life, nor the troubles. This is hard, too. I have no support from them because they don’t know it is wanted or needed. I’ve never really talked to them about my love life, but sometimes it’d be nice to not have to censor myself.

This post feels a lot more whiny and complaining than I wanted it to be. A friend posted about her father tripping up her world view and it got my head diving down a bad direction, I guess. Let’s see if I can make a U-Turn.

 

I’m really excited about the various projects I’m working on.

Modern Dungeon Quarterly’s second issue is out. I have articles about all kinds of fun things; from spanking benches to paddles, from metal bondage to music. Hubby, toy and the engineer all wrote articles for me this time, so that was pretty cool. The photographer took lots of great pictures of the dungeon and I had a great time interviewing the owner.

I’m putting together my stories from this blog, organizing them by topic, so I can make little ebooks. How many stories do you think should be in each? At least one, non-blogged story per book? Is anybody even interested in such a thing? I think it’d be fun to have. Maybe even do on big anthology with everything, available in print as well as ebook? Thoughts? Suggestions? Pre-Orders? 😉

I’m wondering about getting a table at COPE, to sell the, by then, three issues of MDQ I’ll have, and maybe print out some of the ebooks and the anthology as well. I’ll hopefully be profiling the AIS dungeon and AIS Kink Labs at the event anyway. So much to think about. 🙂 I haven’t even found my third dungeon yet.

I wish I was going to ShibariCon. That would be an awesome event to attend, maybe even have people I could interview and a dungeon I could do pictures of. Alas, this year’s expensive convention is WorldCon(awesome in its own right). Maybe next year. 🙂

There, that’s much better. 🙂

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