Begging Him To Stop

This doesn’t sound as fun as it apparently was:

I should explain now that Dave is a sadist. He had made it very clear from the beginning that our encounters would not be of the fur-lined handcuff and pretty satin blindfold variety. He wanted to humiliate me, hurt me, and make me cry. And I wanted him to.

Dave pulled a new, broad-bowled wooden spoon from his bag and told me to lie on the bed. He slapped my ass with it a couple times, then whacked me hard enough that I burst immediately into shocked tears. He hit me again. And again. I sobbed and slid off the bed, cowering and begging. He asked gently if I was ok, and when I nodded he growled at me to get back on the goddamned bed.

I returned to the bed and Dave added more large bruises to my ass as I wept into a pillow. He made me roll over, and without undressing, he pulled his cock through his fly and jerked off onto my face. I washed up afterwards, then he kissed me deeply and went back to work. I still have the photo diary I took of the thick black bruises on my ass which took over two weeks to disappear.

To someone who isn’t wired the way I am, that probably sounds horrific. In truth, it was wonderful….

Thanks to the always interesting Dirty Whore for sharing her experiences.

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