Being a a man who wants to choke a woman on your cock, and also pull out her chair is not contradictory. Drying her tears when she burns dinner, and wanting to beat her ass with a paddle until she cries, are not contradictory. It’s okay to care about her favorite book, what happened at work, and why she thinks she doesn’t deserve that new sweater. It’s also okay to enjoy that whimpering sound she makes when you pull her hair, and want to smear her makeup with your cock while she edges herself for you. You can hold her when she stubs her toe, and still want to fuck her ass so hard she begs you to stop.
These are the men masochists crave. Men who understand that caring, loving, and tenderness are not weakness. Men who are also not afraid they will break us. Who know that we can be both strong and vulnerable. Men who satisfy our needs and give life to our dark desires. We don’t want to choose. Masochists are greedy, and we want both.
He is talking to me and painting a picture of himself for me to admire. Telling me about his life in a way he thinks I want to hear. I play along. But I know this game. I let him play it anyway. You own me.
He has good points. He is funny and he makes me laugh. His fingertips feel nice on my leg as we chat over drinks. I remember how they felt inside me. He remembers things I told him months ago. He is artistic and paints lovely pictures. He is kind and considerate.
He leans in to kiss me on the ride home and it feels nice, but You own me.
Inside the door he takes my dress off and then my panties, burying his face between my legs. You own me. He holds my arms above my head at my wrists, pinning me down as he moves inside me. I close my eyes. You own me. His teeth on my breasts, on my neck, my legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, begging him to fuck me harder. It’s never enough. You own me.
I am under him, but You own me.
Every part of me wants to escape; to the way it feels when You take me. My hips want to be under You, my neck wants to feel You, my breasts want to feel Your hands, my fingertips want to glide over You as my mouth and tongue explore every inch of You, a servant of Your desires. With him I am indifferent, simple, a mess of questionable decisions and tasteless kisses. Faceless, unimportant, incomplete.
It was my first experience receiving a real spanking. Other men had played at it when I asked them. Some attempts were so weak it was almost laughable. Others tried but never had the knowledge or desire to care whether I enjoyed it. They did it for their own amusement in some silly display of supposed dominance. If only they knew what they could have unlocked if they had just made more of an effort.
Weeks before Sir and I were discussing limits and desires.
“I have never been flogged or spanked till I cried…nobody has had the metal to take me that far,” I texted to Sir.
“If I am given the latitude to do something I probably will do it,” Sir replied.
I thought to myself as my pussy got wet, “Oh god I hope so!”
Here now, before you, you command me to bend over the edge of the bed and spread my legs wider while you tease my pussy with your hand and cock. The tone in your voice changes slightly, almost imperceptibly but I am sensitive to these things so I notice it is lower and rhythm measured, “Ok, M, now I don’t want to hear any complaining, is that clear? Or I will stop, and I know that’s not what you want, is it?”
I quickly reply, “No Sir!”
*whack*
Your hand makes firm contact with my ass. “Ooooooh…” the sound escapes my mouth before I know what is happening.
“Shhh…you are ok,” you lean over slightly and say it quietly while gently rubbing your palm on the stinging point of impact.
“You should say thank you and ask for more,” still in that calm slow voice.
*whack*
I jump slightly and you put your hand on the back of my neck and rub my stinging ass with the other, gently spreading the warmth around my cheek, “you are ok,” you repeat.
“Thank you Sir, please may I have another?”
*whack*
We repeat this a few times and I keep thanking you and asking for more. I hear you say,“mmmm…good girl…oooh you get pink fast. Ok we need a picture of this…open your phone,” you hand it to me and I return it to you ready to take a picture of the hot pink mess you have made of my ass. A memory I look at often and treasure.
You tell me, “No more talking now, and stay still!” as your hand makes impact with my ass.
*whack*
I close my eyes and focus on the sound of my breath flowing in and out of my lips; the feel of the sting when your firm hand hits my ass; breathing; the feel of you gently running your fingertips up the back of my thighs and over my ass causing tingling shivers of delight all through my body; slowly other sounds start to slip away and all I can hear is the sound of my breathing; my heartbeat pounding in my ears; feeling the contrast between the sting and the bliss afterward. I can feel my juices sliding out of me between my spread legs and the fire growing there to match the heat coming from my pink ass cheek.
I don’t know how many times after that you spanked me. Once, twice, five times…it matters not. Time meant nothing and I was lost in the moment; lost to the sensations happening in my body. Every nerve ending in my body hypersensitive and alive. I was outside of myself and the pain of the sting faded and what was left was breath, pulse, and pure feeling. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. An intoxicating high that I never knew could exist while being completely sober.
I became conscious of your words, repeated, that now I understand was you telling me to turn around and kneel for you; but I couldn’t make my body move. You repeated yourself. I got up slowly, shaking my head…my eyes wouldn’t focus; my heart was still pounding in my ears…I looked into your eyes as my focus came back and saw the devilish look on your face, the sound of your voice snapping me out of my trance, “Kneel and take care of me.”
I attempt to thank you for the gift you just gave me by doing everything in my power to give you exactly what you ask. With all the fervor of my blissed out body I submit to you Sir.
Sir's submissive 