Finally, it happened.
As some of you might know, in an earlier phase of my life, I used to delight in pain. Inflicting pain on (mostly) submissive girls of my acquaintance. I was good at it, too. A remorseless sadist with a sensitive touch; and yet... I never really understood the look of joy and transcendence in the submissive's face.
For the last few weeks, my Mistress wife has been working me hard, expecting perfect obedience and handing out demerits when I have not met her exacting demands. On a weekly basis, she has been punishing me; this is something that I crave but I don't enjoy.
Her punishments are painful and many times not the least bit erotic, and yet, when she hurts me, my cock becomes instantly hard and remains hard throughout the session. Sometimes I almost feel as if the session is a simple chore for her, another technique among many to keep her slaveboy in line. At other times, it's more than that... Or maybe I just fool myself, seeing what I want to see.
Tonight, for the first time ever, I started to feel something beyond the simple pain, and it was made clear to me that this is more than just a chore for her.
As I was leaving work to go home, there was a voicemail message on my cell phone from Mistress Laura:
“Slaveboy, tonight, when you come home, take a quick rinse, put your collar on, set up the cane and the paddle on the bed, kneel and wait for me in the bedroom. I want to settle your demerits tonight. I have a business meeting and will be home about 6:15. Be ready.”
Simple and direct. I drove home, arriving about half an hour before my Mistress, and quickly shaved, brushed my teeth and showered. I put everything in place and knelt by the bed, naked except for her collar, waiting.
When she arrived, she sat on the bed and watched me for what seemed like an eternity. I kept my eyes downcast and waited. Nervous. Finally, she patted the bed, her signal for me to get on the bed on all fours next to her.
“I want you to know something...”
I tensed up. Oh God. Here it comes. I know where this is going. She's going to tell me that she isn't into punishing me or is feeling some weight of obligation. She wants to back off or slow down. She's been very untalkative recently. Oh God. I feel sick in my stomach.
“When I have hurt you the last few times...”
I closed my eyes, feeling a rushing in my ears. I hope this is not going where I think it's going.
“It makes my cunt twitch.”
It feels as if the bottom falls out of my stomach and my head is swimming now. I am suddenly inflamed with the desire to be hurt. I don't say anything, but my breathing becomes ragged.
“I'm a bit afraid of my own feelings. Sometimes I really want to hurt you a lot more than I have... How do you feel about that, my boy?”
“Oh... Please... I want to please you, Mistress.” my cock is painfully erect. “I've never really felt like this before... In this instant, I want you to hurt me.” I manage to say, feeling a deep blush enveloping my face and neck.
Why am I embarrassed? Have I not caused this very state in others? I feel so raw and vulnerable in this instant.
She then stood up and walked around the bed, to look at my face. She cupped my face in her hands and tenderly asked a simple question:
“Are you sure?”
I realized at this point that this was my one chance to back out. If I had a headache or something was going on that I would not be able to withstand the kind of beating she was contemplating, now would be the time to say something. I loved Mistress Laura in that moment in a way that is hard to put into words. She takes good care of me.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She smiled then and slipped off her skirt and panties, then picked up the cane and walked around to my bottom.
“You have three demerits. I'm going to forget about you drawing a card tonight. The multiplier is 20. That means 60 strikes.”
She hit me in groups of 10 strikes. The first two groups were excruciatingly painful. I yelled in pain but I remained on the bed, on all fours. Sweat broke out all over my body and I whimpered. I felt a stinging heat a few times that suddenly washed over my whole body.
After she had delivered fifty strokes with the cane, I was flying high on endorphins. She stopped for a moment...
“I'm going to use this last ten strikes to get myself off... You can't see, but I'm touching myself with my other hand... You're such a good boy...” Mistress cooed.
With each stroke, it felt like my ass was on fire. I shouted with each one. Sometimes she paused for a few seconds and sometimes it seemed as if they were following one after another. I was not keeping track, but I am fairly certain that the last ten strokes stretched out into twenty or thirty strokes.
Towards the end of the beating... “Tell me how it feels, slaveboy.”
“It hurts, Mistress, it hurts a lot, but it also feels good. I'm so confused.”
“Oh... Good boy... I like hurting you....” and the guttural groans told me that my Mistress had orgasmed. My cock twitched and I wanted to ask for her to let me come too, but she cut that thought off...
“Mmmm... That was nice, slaveboy. Just in case you were wondering, I don't feel like making you come tonight. Maybe later in the week. Get off the bed and come here and kiss my feet.”
With my ass stinging, my body covered in sweat, completely overwhelmed with feelings of love, I crawled over to where Mistress Laura stood and lovingly kissed her feet.
I never considered myself a masochist. I'm not so sure now.
