Saturday, 27 December 2008

Caned by my Master

I knew I had it coming. For several days I have masturbated like crazy while watching the video in my previous post where a cute blonde girl is caned severely by two very strict Mistresses. Oh, how I love this video and what dreams and urges it has evoked within me. Yesterday, Master spanked me very hard and I came again and again when lying over His knee, the stinging paddle and the heavy hairbrush making my poor globes sore, swollen and bright red. But it was going to get worse. To get me in the mood before posting the video Master trashed me severely with His heavy leather belt on my already sore bottom and my thighs so I had to stand up while writing my post. He whipped me savagely with the belt for about twenty minutes and after the trashing my poor bottom felt like it was double its normal size.

But He didn’t stop there…

Master was just as excited about this video as me and we knew we wanted to do it ourselves. He was going to cane me to stop me from talking back. Only I had no intention of stopping – the pain would just increase my obstinate behaviour.

We arranged it all like in the video. Like this girl I walked towards a chair and bent over, my palms resting on the seat. After a long spanking session plus hundreds of vicious slashes of the belt my bottom was really sore and the slightest touch of my bruised and welted buttocks was a painful experience. Yet I was going to be caned. I wondered whether I already had gotten too much and would not be able to feel the pain anymore. Also, would it really be sensible to go on?

This is one thing I refuse to understand. It is my body and if I get a kick out of being beaten and whipped, what’s the point of denying it? It doesn’t hurt anybody else. My Master is the most loving and caring person you can imagine but at the same time He knows what fires me and He wants to drive me over the top again and again. Maybe this is because we are thinking so much along the same lines. Not only do we share many fantasies but we also tend to identify with each others roles, understanding the feelings of the other part. Some would definitely say that we do go too far but I can assure you that this is a source of wonderful excitement for both of us.

Anyway. I bent over the chair and my glowing, swollen buttocks were exposed in their full pride. I heard the swishing of the cane through the air and the deep, comforting voice of my Master.

- Well, Tina, are you going to stop talking back?

- Never! I’m an independent free woman and I say what I want to say. There is freedom of speech, you know.

- You do realize that this attitude is going to get you a very sore bottom?

- I already have that. You can’t stop me from saying what I want.

- We’ll see about that. I will give you twelwe strokes and then perhaps you will think differently. If you don’t, we have the whole night…

I stood stubbornly silent, bent over the chair, sticking my swollen behind out provocatively. Once again I was lost in subspace, masospace or whatever you call it. This is a state which is so difficult to explain to anyone who has never experienced it. The closest I can get is comparing it to the state you’re in when you have had a morphine injection. A totally happy world, you feel safe and full of positive vibrations, seeing no problems whatsoever. You feel utterly relaxed and even if you do experience severe pain it just adds to your enjoyment. I knew that despite the spanking and trashing I had already got I needed more. Which is why I never had any intention of giving up my freedom of speech…

The hiss reached my ears as the cane struck and the sharp crack was drowned by my gasp of pain. In no way had the previous beatings deprived me of the ability of experiencing pain. Oh, how hard He struck! I really love that man because He beats me so hard… I was surprised that the strokes were delivered in a very rapid succession instead of letting the pain grow before striking again. But right now I wanted it, I was craving it! I stuck my bottom out even more and felt the sharp cane biting deep into the flesh of my swollen, tortured buttocks. After the twelfth stroke I was sobbing hysterically and when asked if I was going to stop talking back I just answered:

- Thank you Master for punishing me so hard. I need it and I deserve it. But I will not stop making my point…

- Tina, you are making this so difficult for yourself. Another twelwe to go!

The strokes of the biting cane were raining across my bottom, putting me in a world of an insane fire which was consuming my entire being, while at the same time I was craving more of this wonderful pain. When the caning ended and I could finally speak, I sobbed:

- I won’t stop talking back! Not even if you keep on caning me all night!!!

My tortured bottom was beckoning for the sting of the cane. I was wondering if I would ever be able to sit again, while at the same time I was obsessed by a strange fever, a longing for more and even harder strokes. I wanted to cry out desperately and beg Master to hurt me as much as He possibly could but I knew I didn’t have to. He knows the way I work perfectly well and would just go on caning me harder and faster. When he announced that he would now deliver 24 strokes in a row - and harder strokes at that – I felt like the happiest girl in the world.

As the strokes fell harder and harder, I rapidly stuck my bottom out to meet the stroke and let it sink home to the fullest, the cane being buried deep in my tortured flesh with each stroke. Our movements were perfectly synchronized and as Master struck harder and faster I also increased the speed of my movements to meet each stroke. After each caning he asked me the very same question and I naturally refused. He let me regain my breath but made sure all breaks were as short as possible.

He delivered the strokes in series of 24 each and very soon the welts of my bottom started to split up so I was bleeding. Oh, how wonderful to be caned so hard! I felt blood trickling down my thighs while the intense fire within me was growing all the time. After one session he let me kiss the now blood-stained cane and I did so, profoundly and with love. Love for my Master and for the wonderful cane which was cutting deep into my flesh, causing me a pain which was so extreme that I did hardly realize how I would survive it. At the same time I was floating around in subspace heaven, more comforted than ever.

I have no idea how many strokes I had got or how long the punishment had been going on but suddenly he didn’t ask whether I would stop talking back, nor did he announce any new session of 24 strokes. I knew we had reached the breaking point now. He was going to take me over the top. All of a sudden a fiery rain of vicious cuts of the cane started biting deep into my bleeding buttocks and I knew that he wouldn’t stop until he had conquered me completely. I lost all sense of reality, only being aware of the evil cane biting deep into my flesh while my juices were flowing down my thighs. I started frigging myself with one hand and suddenly I felt a hard grip around my hips while sharp teeth were biting into my ears and my neck, lips were sucking my flesh hard to ensure vivid marks. The blood-stained cane fell to the floor and I felt Him entering me from behind, thrusting hard and driving his hard pole as deep into me as possible. I screamed out loud from lust and I came again and again… totally madness, I felt like it would never stop. When He finally came within me we both fell to the floor in one mutual climax of extasy and for a long time we just lay there, totally drained of all energy.

I am lying face down while writing this, for obvious reasons. Master is rubbing my tortured bottom with soothing oils and nodding approvingly at what I am writing. The girl in the video got 180 strokes of the cane. I must have gotten several hundreds, in addition to the otk spankings plus the trashing of His heavy leather belt. But believe me, this was my most exciting experience for a very long time. I now realize to the fullest what a difference it is to suffer by my Masters’s hand, rather than punishing myself. When I had come to after the extreme climax, I begged Master to cane my pussy until I came. This he gladly did. I laid down spread-eagled with a couple of pillows under my bloody, swollen buttocks and this time he used a thinner, whippy cane – but oh, how wonderful it bit. He made me come again and again and I am so happy that He will be with me for some time now. Each minute is very precious to us and we are surely going to enjoy life to the fullest together.

*Hugs from a sore, naughty and horny tinaslut*

Here is a video which is very fitting for this time of the year. PainGate has loads of hard videos of girls being whipped, caned and punished severely in any way you can imagine. In this film it is Eve who is suspended, severely bullwhipped and punished by melting wax. Enjoy!

1 comment:

William Boyson said...

Tina, once again you have given us a wonderfully joyous account – I winced and celebrated along with you at every stroke! I never have received (and never will) anything as severe as you have but I recognise many of the same emotions, which, for me provide a real roller-coaster ride.

I don’t get a serious flogging very often, and, when I do, it is always much deserved and long overdue. The announcement that I have one coming brings an initial feeling of calm and satisfaction but, in the days and hours immediately preceding it, this is replaced by a complex mixture of excitement and anxiety – indeed, real fear. These build up during the ritual of preparation for punishment and during whatever tasks my Master has determined I must complete first as part of my penance, so that eventually I become impatient for the feel of the strap and cane across my bottom. Of course, that changes as soon as the first stroke lands. It is hard to believe that one can forget how much it hurts but I always do. The first stroke is always a shock and starts me panicking that I won’t be able to take all that my Master has prescribed. But I do. The final stroke lands and I am congratulating myself that I have accepted it all without too much fuss, without forgetting to count (too often) and to say “Thank you, Sir” after each one.

But, instead of getting painfully to my feet, I stay in position. I stick my aching bare bottom out further and spread my legs wide apart and ask for more of the tawse, knowing how much it will hurt on top of the cane weals and how it will sting even more when the tails dig deep between my cheeks and thighs, to the places the other implements haven’t reached. Only then will I know that I have really been punished enough. Half an hour facing the wall with my hands on my head, forbidden to move or rub my bottom will bring tears of contrition streaming down my cheeks. Then I will gently lie down with a pillow under my throbbing bottom and feel the heat spreading through my loins as I reach the most shattering orgasm – one that it is so much more intense, all enveloping and well-deserved than any I can achieve at any other time.