So much had happened. So much stress, so much anxiety, so much heartbreak. I need a release. I asked him to make my cry, I even said how I’d like it. He had agreed to make me cry, he knew I needed it. And he knew he’d enjoy it too. The night started out like any other invited back into the loft, a place I hadn’t been for months. Sir dropped his things onto the bed and pointing downwards, silently instructing me to kneel. I dropped to me knees, his hand coming to stroke my cheek gently. He put his foot forward, another silent instruction. I learned forward and began to unlock his shoes, pulling one off and placing it neatly to the side. The other one was more tricky, and without thinking I tutted in annoyance, my mood taking over my submissiveness. I released my mistake all to late when Sir grabbed a chunk of my hair and pulled me to the side, slapping my cheek a few times.
‘Fucking tutting at me.’ He scoffed.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry’ I spat out the words quickly, panicking as he leaned down and reached into the cup of my bra, pinching my nipple and pulling it upwards.
‘Little stubby better learn some manners otherwise this will be a very different evening for you.’ He growled, releasing my nipple and hair, his foot coming forward to allowing me a second chance to undo his shoe. I chewed on my bottom to control myself as he used my head to lean on as he pulled his foot out of the shoe, quickly setting it next to the other one neatly.
‘Down.’ He ordered, I leaned forward and pressed my chest against the carpet, resting my forehead against my hands.
‘Such a beautiful ass.’ I heard him mumble, listening for the fumbling of his photo as he snapped pictures of my figure, ass pushed high and chest pushed low, the perfect slave position. He put his foot forward again.
‘Kiss it.’ He instructed. I pressed my lips gently against the bridge of his foot, trying not to smudge my lipstick on his skin. I knew that’d ensure a punishment I didn’t need tonight. I could hear the camera on his phone clicking, snapping photos and memories of the night. He switched his feet, pushing the other one beneath my lips and mumbling about all the things he had planned to do to me, all the things I had asked for.
I sat up as he pulled his feet away from me, spreading my legs into the nadu position, I looked up at him and waited for his next order.
‘Get those tits out and spit on them.’ I pulled my tits out from the bandeau and bra I was wearing, but my mouth was dry. Sir was kind enough to pull my head back and spit on my tits for me, enjoying wiping it over my breasts and pinching my nipples, pulling a yelp from my lips.
‘What are we missing from the beginning of every session?’ he asked,
‘An inspection, Sir.’ I answered immediately.
‘And what else?’
‘A spanking?’ I answered again, a little more unsure of my next answer.
‘And what else?’ he repeated, I couldn’t stop myself from looking up at him with wide eyes. What else? There was nothing else, was there?
‘Get up and stand over here.’ he ordered as he walked away from me, pointing to the stop he wanted me in. He didn’t phrase the question again, but I didn’t spend too much time thinking about it.
I quickly stood, unsteady on my feet in heels after being dragged around. But I managed to pull myself to where he wanted, assuming the inspection position. With my fingers interlaced behind my head, I spread my legs and waited for Sir’s next instructions. Sir walked around me, grabbing a hand full of my breasts as he stood behind me and grabbing my ass. Wrapping his fingers in my hair he walked towards the throne-like chair in the corner of the room, dragging me alongside him.
He let me go as he took his seat and I assumed the inspection position again, facing him as he looked upon me with a smirk. I froze as I heard a knock at the door.
‘Come in.’ Sir smiled, the owner of the loft walked in, I assumed with the two bottles of water he had promised earlier. Sir left my view and was almost out of earshot, mumbling a quick conversation. I caught the end of a compliment aimed towards me, more specifically, my tattoo.
‘I think it’s approved.’ Sir joked, as he poked the ‘Yes Sir’ that was tattooed across my ass. The conversation was quickly finished we were left alone again. I couldn’t deny how the conversation had made my pussy stir, pushing the arousal a little bit higher as they spoke about me like a statue, like a work of art.
The thought was squished and replaced with another as Sir wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him as he took his seat. I felt the tenseness leave my body, feeling safety in his arms, submissiveness. That was until he began to spank my ass without looking. Even with my breasts at his eye level and blocking his view his aim was immaculate, never missing a beat and using his arm to hold me against him, weakening my squirming and squeals.
When he finally stopped I breathed a sign of relief, it wouldn’t be the worse thing my ass felt tonight, but in my delicate state I could feel the emotions beginning to build. My relief was short lived as I felt his mouth around my nipple. Most would assume the niceness of sucking and licking. But no, I knew him. Even though it was expected I still shrieked when his teeth sunk into my nipple. He knew how sensitive they were, how easy it was to get a rise out of me. I clenched my hands into fists, trying desperately not to move from the position. He let go of one nipple and move to the other, this time I couldn’t keep my stance. Stamping my feet and pulling my hands down. He pulled away for a second to give me warning.
‘Did I say you could move?!’
‘No. I’m sorry.’ I squeaked, moving back into the position. I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing back the tears. Crying now would not get me what I wanted, it would not get the emotional release I needed, they can wait. However, When Sir left go of my nipple I thought it was over, that we would move on, but he continued, sinking his teeth into the side of my beast. I screamed, wanting to pull away but I knew it would only be worse for myself if I did. I felt a single tear escape, falling down my cheek as I tried to breath through the pain and stay still. Anyone who ever told you breathing through the pain helps was talking utter bullshit.
Sir released my breast and I almost collapsed to the floor in relief.
‘Down.’ he uttered the single instruction and sank down to my knees, ‘Turn.’ I quickly turned away from him, assuming the Shesleen position and pushing my ass into the air. I flinched slightly when I felt something press into my ass as Sir began to write. I was unsure what he was writing, but whatever it was it was probably mean and degrading.
‘I want you to say, I am cunt #001, please kick me in my fuckhole’.’ he instructed.
It took my a moment to connect the dots in my head but I understood what was happening next. I was grateful Sir couldn’t see my face, he would have taken too much pleasure in watching my expression drop. I took in a breath, trying to prepare myself for what was to come.
‘I am Cunt Number 1,’ I paused, taking a second to debate whether I should continue, but I did. ‘Please kick my fuck hole.’
The response was immediate, the bridge of his foot slapping against my pussy. I cried out, clenching my fists together. It didn’t hurt as much as the breast biting, but I could still feel it.
I repeated the phrase again, feeling the same pain as before. 10 times he wanted it. 10 times for the mantra to be repeated. My pussy became more sensitive with each kick. It wasn’t as bad as the breast biting, no tears even threatened to fall down my cheeks this time. After 10 times repeating the same words, he finally stopped. My cunt was sore but still pulsating with need. Sir stood and walked around in front of me, grabbing a clump of my hair and walking towards the cross. I hurriedly crawled behind him, wincing as my hair was pulled.
‘Stand.’ he ordered, letting go of my hair. I pushed myself to my feet, spreading them out so they lined up with the edge of the Cross. I wrapped my arms around each of the top points, almost hugging it to my chest. Now was what I had been waiting for. Now was what I desperately wanted.
Sir retrieved the flogger and the whip, I remembered what he had told me.
I’ll be nice enough to warm your skin before I whip you.’
I had felt the flogger before, remembered its impact and how the tails felt on my skin. I was ready to feel it. But when the first strike came down on my ass I froze. This was much harder, much harsher than I had felt before. He stuck again, the tails hitting my left butt cheek and hip. Pain radiates across my ass, but my pussy clenched, needing to feel more. He continued to flog my body, moving across my ass and my shoulders, marking all the places he planned to attack with the whip.
The tails created the most beautiful sounds as they touched my skin and crashed against one another. A few silent tears fell down my cheeks, the pain radiating across my back and ass, but it felt so good. As the first tears felt I could feel the emotion leaving my body, bit by bit I was able to let go. But it was nothing compared to what came next. When Sir was satisfied with the redness of my skin, he discarded the floor, picking up the whip.
‘You know your safeword?’ he asked, gently stroking my back. I nodded quickly, taking in a deep breath and wiping away the tears. ‘Say break if you need a break.’ he whispered, kissing my shoulder and stepping backwards. I had no idea it was in his hand until he cracked it behind me, making me jump and squeak. The fear of pain rushed through me, making my quake. However my pussy clenched and grew wetter, desperately wanting to feel it crack against my skin.
My wish was granted. The whip was cracked against my skin, hitting my ass and wrapping around my hip. The pain was so concentrated, the tip of the whip being so small, I never expected it to carry such pain. The whip continued to crack against my skin, each one causing me to jump and squirm, crying out. The tears just kept coming, more and more as he whipped everywhere the flogger had been. I counted them, trying to distract myself from the pain as the tears kept coming. I only made it to 5.
‘Break!’ I sobbed, pushing myself backwards and bending over in front of the cross as I tried to deal with the pain. Sir was at my side in a second, stroking my skin and kissing my shoulder, showing me with praise.
‘You’re doing so well, just breath through it. I’m so proud of you.’ he encouraged, waiting until I stood up straight and moved back into position. I wiped the tears away, clutching the wood of the cross as I waited for more. I wasn’t finished yet, and neither was Sir. He carried on with his whipping, hitting my ass and shoulders. The edge of the whip curling around my to my front.
The whip was harsh and unforgiving. Easily breaking the dam that held all of my emotions. I was bawling, the struggling to breathe through the sobs. Sir continued with the whip a few more times before finally setting it down. He gently pried me off of the cross, turning my into his chest and allowing me to sob into his shirt. He held carefully, whispering sweet nothings into my ear and showing me with praises.
I needed this. I asked for this.