*Since I didn’t finish this post immediately after the event, many details remain foggy. Note to Self: Finish your blog closer to the time of the scene instead of days later.
He held me for a moment. Kissed me softly and motioned for me to climb up onto the spanking bench. It took me a minute or two to get settled. He pulled my dress up to the middle of my back and I spread my knees further apart.
“Good girl,” He said, caressing my back and ass.
It took me some time to figure out what to do with my arms since they weren’t restrained. Eventually I found a position that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. He rubbed my ass and began spanking me.
The pleasure was immediate. The hits started coming harder. The pleasure morphed into pain and I began to drift. I don’t recall much of this first part.
I tried to remain conscious of sensation when He switched to the new flail. The tails whooshed against me, softly at first but increasing in intensity. The flail is considerably longer than a regular flogger – more sting with each stroke. Somewhere in my mind, the only thought that gets through is that He is standing further away, but not as far away as when He used the single tail. That is somehow comforting.
He reads my body seemingly effortlessly, though I know it does require effort on His part. He stays alert and attentive to me at all times. Just when my body is reaching a breaking point, He pauses to caress me. He moves around so that I can see Him – though my eyes cannot focus on Him very long. I know what I must look like – drunk on pain, lust, and pleasure.
He switches to the cane next. Each stroke stings, adding to the warmth radiating from my ass. I vaguely recall (not sure if it was at this moment or not though) His hands caressing my pussy through my thong, pulling it between my lips and sort of framing my clit. I remember wondering if He was going to finger fuck me right here. I was conflicted – wanting to cum so badly but shy (hah!) about the sheer number of people present at the event.
Though, let’s be honest… I had no idea who was watching. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Though, the exhibitionist wanted to peek out and see… I remained in the moment with Sir. Everyone else was irrelevant as the cane came down over and over on my right ass cheek. We had discussed blindfolding me for this scene so that I wouldn’t be focused on people watching us, but due to the location of the bench we were using, I decided I didn’t need that. And afterwards, I found that I very much liked being able to open my hazy eyes and look at Him, as opposed to taking off a blindfold. (Next time…lol).
The cane strokes became more intense. Every few strokes I was up on my hands and arching my back to try to get my ass away from the cane. He waited patiently each time for me to come back to position. As the cane fell again and again, the intensity threatened to boil over. I was close to screaming and wriggling – which I knew wouldn’t be the best idea as I wasn’t tethered to the bench.
As usual, Sir could sense that I was nearing the end of my control. He gave a few more strokes with the cane before gently touching the marks He left on my skin. He helped me off the bench and into His arms, holding me tightly against Him. I felt cared for and safe.
It hurt to sit down, but I watched Him clean up the station before coming back to hold me. The way His focus was on me was intoxicating. No one has ever looked at me the way He does. I’m glad it’s Him.