“We’re going to do one of your Penalty Picture Requests today,” he said.
It was early Sunday afternoon, the end of our first full weekend together since the schedule change. We’d done a lot that weekend already, but the one scene I had asked for, an impact scene, hadn’t happened yet.
“May I ask for something?’ I’d asked, as I snuggled into his side after he’d fucked me with my beautiful NobEssence wooden dildo that I love so much. (He said afterwards, “I love this!” so I guess he’s a convert too. Course he also said, “I wanted to make you come this time, so I used it nicely, but next time–there are so many other ways I could use it!” So maybe I shouldn’t be so thrilled that he likes it. )
“Of course,” he said.
“Will you hit me later?”
As we all know, I’ve gotten much better at asking for things. Mostly pleasurable things, like masturbating, or having him do something specific to make me come (the orgasm by NobEssence had been by request, as a matter of fact.) It almost doesn’t even make me cringe to ask anymore. But to hurt me? Yes, I ask to play. Sometimes I even say that I am craving a certain kind of scene, but I generally use this space to hint at or ask for things I find too difficult to ask for. Asking specifically for a pain scene is a hard thing to do–and double-edged. Because, no matter how much I crave it, how much I want it, I still fear it and dread it and try to find ways, even when I’ve asked for it, to get out of it.
So when he said, simply, “Yes,” to my request, I was a jumble of emotions: elated & proud that I had actually asked for it, excited, and nervous as hell.
When he finally told me were going to scene, and that we were going to do one of the picture requests, my stomach did a flip-flop.
“What should I wear?” I asked him. He usually doesn’t dictate what I wear, but occasionally, if he has something specific in mind, he’ll give me general guidelines. Since I have not been informed of what the various picture requests are, or what they entail, I had no idea what might be in the request.
“Nothing specific,” he said. So I put on a sexy negligee, stockings and heels. I don’t usually wear stockings, but since this was a “special” picture, I thought it deserved a special look. He gave me an odd look when I stepped into the bondage room, where he was setting up the spanking bench. (This in and of itself was unusual, as we have only used it a couple of times in the past.)
“Ummm…stockings aren’t going to work,” he said. I was a little surprised, and my mind spun, trying to imagine what he was possibly going to do that he couldn’t with stockings on me, but I complied, and changed my outfit.
He put me up on the bench, and secured me pretty tightly to it.
So okay, this wasn’t going to be so bad. I’ve had canings before. LOTS of them. And I’ve survived every one! The tightness of the rope (and the fact that he had used the straps and the rope) suggested that this might be a bit severe. But hey, I’m a painslut, right? I can take anything he can dish out…riiiight….)
I had been almost dozing, in that sweet, lethargic headspace that rope puts me in, when he came up behind me and pulled off first one shoe, and then the other.
It took me a moment to realize what that meant. He’s never deliberately taken off my heels, and usually requires me to wear them (tho occasionally he simply can’t be bothered to have me put them on, if he’s really feeling the need to just brutalize me, and even recently allowed me to be barefoot because it just seemed right, in the context of the scene.)
But then, suddenly I knew what was going to happen. I immediately began struggling. I’d recently had this done to me in a scene at Dark Odyssey with someone else, and I know how bad it hurts. That time had left my instep bruised and sore for a solid week.
Here’s the thing though: I had asked for this some time ago. Hinted about it for awhile, and then, finally, just out and out asked for it. But in my mind, it was a scene that I wanted to do in front of an audience. It just seemed right that way somehow. A crowd pleaser, yanno? I don’t know if I asked for it because I knew he’d never think of doing it on his own, or because I truly believed he’d never actually do it. Take off a girl’s shoes?? Sacrilege! So, when he did, even if it was because of someone’s request, even while I struggled and dreaded the pain, I was secretly thrilled. I wanted him to do it. Even while I said, no no no… I wanted him to do in spite of my protestations. Because yeah, I’m fucked up that way. I get off on that shit, right?
And he did do it. Once he started, he didn’t stop because I cried out, or said no, or begged him to stop. Because I did all those things. And I didn’t get hot or turned on by it. It was just pure, unremitting pain. Almost unbearable pain, I thought at the time it was happening. In fact I actually managed to struggle enough to get my hands partway undone. He said it was the most he’s ever seen me fight. And there just wasn’t any happy floaty place in it. I never got enough of a breath or the pain was never the right kind to send me to that floaty space–although I learned very quickly to control myself, because if I didn’t, if I moved my feet at the wrong time, that fucking cane would come down on the ball of my foot, or my toes, instead of the instep, where it still hurt like fuck, but not quite as bad.
And yet…there was a part of me that loved being there, loved taking it, loved that he would do that to me. And later, when he told me how hot it was to do it, my stomach did more little flip-flops. One, because he’d done something with me that he hadn’t with anyone else, and probably wouldn’t have considered doing; and two because I’d pleased him. He liked it. And three–because I was already in that hope/desire/fear/dread spiral: I wanted him to do it again.
It was at some point right after this that I started to actually lose my cool…the pain was really getting to the edge of being unbearable (though I hadn’t yet even considered trying to actually halt it, and, although I whimpered and moaned and maybe yelped quite a bit, I hadn’t shed any tears.)
I actually managed to get my hands loosened, if not free. I couldn’t quite get free because he’d let me struggle a bit but then come back in to hit me, making me force myself into some semblance of calm so I didn’t get hit wrong.
But the last time he came over, as I lay panting and exhausted, when he stepped close and put his hand on m like he was going to start again, I freaked out a bit, crying out and struggling wildly against him, not caring if he hit me wrong.
“It’s over,” he said instead. And, when I continued to struggle, “It’s over.” I gulped, swallowed, struggled to calm my breathing.
It was over.
Except then, of course, he put my heels back on.
“Go stand against the wall,” he said.
And I did.
“You really are fucked up,” he said, giving me that grin that I love so much. “That’s one of the things I like about you so much.”
This series was at the request of one of my special readers. W has refused to reveal who it is, but says if he/she wants to ‘fess up, you’re welcome to. 😉
I want to extend a special thank you to whomever you are. In spite of flipping you off, it was so very cool that it inspired W to do something that we might not have ever got around to doing (okay, he says he would have, but seriously, you know this man’s proclivities about as well as I do–can you see him willingly unstrapping the shoes from my feet? Though now that he enjoyed it so much, I have a feeling it may happen again!) So–thank you!
If you have some exquisite bit of torment you’d like to see W visit upon my oh-so-delicate-and-innocent body, or some bit of punishment you think I really really deserve, or simply have an image in your mind that you’d like for him to capture for you in photographs, click here to go to the Picture Request Form, or click here to read more about what this whole “picture Request” thing is about.
I absolutely love this post. Started following you on twitter as a good poly lifestyle source. Your Penalty Picture series is interesting, funny, and sexy.
Thank you so much, and welcome to my little corner of the blogosphere! I am flattered that someone recommended me to you re: poly. Although I write there less often, please be sure to bookmark my poly blog, A Poly Life, as well. 🙂
That was amazing, and hot, and scary, and mmmm. I love having my feet beaten with solid objects (less so with whippy things), and so reading this was an exercise in want/fear all the way through 🙂
xx Dee
This shows the SPIRITUAL NATURE of sub dom master slave sadist masochist the HARMONY needed between both PERFECT THANK YOU
Thanks, Dee. 🙂 I’d never really thought about having my feet beat. Like my girlie-bits, I always thought of them in terms of only good, pleasurable things being done to them. Of course, W disabused me of *that* notion fairly quickly. And this one, well, I had brought it up some time ago on my own, so I guess I really was ready to go there.
SPIRTUAL NATURE of sub dom master slave sadist masochist come through PURE and spiritual IN THIS. THANKS JONATHAN
Gosh, what an awesome and intense experience. I often wonder how I’d react if I just couldn’t take the pain any longer but was somehow just unable to get free and stop it and therefore HAD to take it.
Amazing pictures, loved that you’re laughing and smiling afterwards.
sev xx
Thanks sev…yeah, that’s what W says he loves too. W doesn’t often take “after” pics, but, usually, that’s how I end up, even after the worst of it! I just can’t help it: this stuff makes me happy. I really *am* fucked up. LOL
Well you’re not the only one 🙂 xx
Very interesting post! But I really need to ask you where did you get that bench and who made it? (and if W made it, is he willing to share plans for it?)
I don’t actually know if he made the bench, though if my memory serves I think he did not. But I will ask him and get back to you.
Jade,
what a post!
A striking photo story with stimulating text and awesome images. The whole setting is daring, so pure, intense and honest – at least for my taste – and if I count comments here I would say your crowed liked it too!
And: big WOW! for the heels you choose. I haven’t seen any hotter ones on you blog…
I just came back yesterday from a 10 day vacation – rural trip and not much internet access – as I had a glimpse on your blog today I discovered the bastinado post. I have to confess that I was thrilled by browsing it – surprised how quickly it turned into reality and also fascinated by how much of the described details are in and shown.
But what I like the most about it is that it worked out so well for you guys! It seems that it was somehow also a trigger for your already so kinky doing and lifestyle.
What is my favorite part? – I can’t say, but I really like the fuck-you-finger-photo as I got the feeling that to a certain degree this is also addressed to me… 😉
I still wonder how many strokes you have received before W was having mercy with you – the hole post doesn’t say anything about it? Would you share this with us?
And yes I will drop the one or the other inspiration in the near future and deposit how appointed. I’d love to continue…
Finally I would say there is only one question left: how long do we have to wait for the next bastinado post? – this time maybe even with audience… 😉
Thank you Jade – I mean it.
Take care,
Soom
Soom,
I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to reply! I meant to right away, but you know how things go…and with me traveling so much lately time just got away from me.
As for your questions…I have no idea how many times he hit me. He wasn’t counting either. But it seemed like a bazillion! And as for the “next” one? LOL, well that is up to him. 😉
I do so appreciate you taking the time to send in a request, and yes, it was amazing and wonderful how it turned into far more than just a “picture request.” Thank you so much for sending it in, and I hope that we hear again from you soon with more requests! 🙂
Jade