So I gave up on domming about a year ago. A bunch of things happened and I decided that maybe I should try not punishing people to get sexual gratification. I deleted my Reddit account, let go of my beloved sub and decided to try and be less, well me. As you can tell, this shows how successful I have been. I found myself inexorably drawn back into it. It is part of who I am.
It’s funny, as I was starting to dip my toes back into the scene, piece by piece, kidding myself that I wasn’t going to throw myself wholeheartedly back into scene. What can I say? Nipple clamps excite me. That’s when I got a message from a friend in the scene.
I didn’t know her particularly well, I knew she was a teacher. It feels to me that 80% of nurses and teachers seem to be submissive. I knew her and her dom for a while but we hadn’t played together, and truly her dom was more of a Andrew Tate has some good ideas type than really a dom, so I only knew her in the periphery.
Her dom had left her, and she was distraught. When doms dump subs, it goes really hard on the sub. They tend to blow themselves at the best of times, who know right? But when they break up they just assume it’s entirely their fault. She was taking it hard, she wanted to meet up. I felt sorry for her, I liked her so I said sure.
I rolled up to the coffee shop. She’s already there, like a good sub should be, never leave a dom waiting. We start by making small talk, talking about what we’ve been up to, why I left for a while. The conversation is natural and free flowing, but we both know there is more to this conversation than pleasantries.
The flood gates open when I ask her “How are you holding up?”. The tears start to form as she explains how him leaving is all her fault, how she should of being a better person, let alone sub. I think she is wrong, but there’s no point in me telling her this, she’s a sub, she isn’t going to believe it. I let her get it all out.
After she has explained at length why she is the absolute lowest of the low of humanity and it makes perfect sense why he left. I just look at her, and I tell her.
“I think you’re wrong, I don’t think he was a good guy, and I think you’ll be better off in the long run.”
She snorts, she doesn’t believe me, she never will. She has to come to that realization on her own.
“I want to be punished” She says, looking down at her coffee.
“Is that why you called?” I ask her, knowing full well that the answer is.
She looks at her coffee for a while. Finally, “Yes”.
“I see, paid how?”
“I don’t know, but I want it to hurt, I want to feel it. I need to be paid”
I look at her for a while, I haven’t played with anyone in over a year, and I have never played with her. The thing is, one subs love tap is another subs beating. I don’t know what level she is at and going in blind to that can be tricky. But she is an experience sub, and she knows my reputation so I amtempted.
I keep looking at her, the way she looks, it’s obvious that this is something she needs. This is more than a simple session. I make up my mind to do it.
“OK, if this is what you need, then I will help you.”
She doesn’t look up, I see the tension in her shoulders lift and a crisis color start to float up on her face. I love a good blusher.
“You can click your fingers can’t you?” I ask her with a smile.
I explain the scenario to her. The scenario is simple, 20 lashes with a wide leather belt, each stroke harder than the last. It’s something I picked up from watching B5, always handy. She will be gagged, because well, you don’t want the neighbors to think I am killing her. If it becomes too much, she needs to click her fingers.
I go over the scenario in detail. As I explain it to her, the tension sees back into her shoulders, the blushing increases exponentially, she starts to fidget in her chair. After going over it all. I sit back and absently sip at my drink. There’s a silence between us now, her mind dwelling on what she has asked for. Myself, I am more worried about my aim, it’s been a year since a swung a belt.
Finally, she breaks the silence
“When? Now?” She asks.
“Wow, aren’t we an eager little whore?” I tell her.
The blush sinks to an even deeper shade of crisis, I chuckle.
“No, I have things to do, tomorrow, evening. 7:00” I tell her.
I like to make my subs wait for their punishment, allow them to stew, to dwell on what will be the inevitable. It’s much better to allow the tension to raise slowly. The knowing certainty that a punishment is coming and having to wait. Like their own little Garden of Gethsemane.
I kiss her forehead and walk out of the coffee shop.
I pull up to a small but lovely townhouse, at 6:55. I wait the 5 minutes before I get out of the car, I don’t want to appear eager. I don’t both knocking, I simply open the door. She is a trained sub, sheshould know to have the door unlocked and she should be waiting.
I walk in and like a good sub, there she is. Naked, kneeing, face looking down, ball gag in her mouth already. If she were my sub, I would put the ball gag on her, not let her do it herself, it’s more submissive that way, but she wasn’t my sub. Her hands offering me the belt. I study her and the belt before picking it up. She doesn’t Say anything, but her hands are shaking slightly. The belt is wide, thick, brown rough leather. It is going to hurt. I reach out and grab it. Feeling it’s weight in my hand.
I turn around a lock the door. A grim finality seems to settle between us. She hasn’t moved, her hands in the same position even though I have taken the belt. She has been trained well enough it seems.
I break the silence.
“Get Ready” I tell her.
Wordlessly, she gets up, and walks through the house, I follow her lead, now if she has been trained by me, she would be crawling not walking. I walk behind her, close enough for her to feel my presence just behind her, I want to see if she will look behind, to look at me. I am so close I see the goosebumps on her shoulders. She doesn’t look behind, she just keeps going. She’s been trained well.
We reach, what I assume is a spare bedroom, well was a spare bedroom, it’s now a sparse room, nothing in it apart from a padded oversized ottoman in the middle of it. This must be the room they normally played in I thought idly as I was looking around.
She knees on the ottoman, her legs spread, her face pressed against the leather. Her arms outstretched at 90 degrees. I prefer my subs to have their hands clapped above their ass. This is just another sign that she has been trained, but not by me. I shrug it off, thinking more about the task, literally in front of me.
I star at her ass, her legs spread wide enough that I can see her asshole and cunt. Her cunt is already wet, I can see the gleam from it, opened slightly,waiting. It’s obvious her ass has been well used. Her rose bud slightly open, not a gape but not closed, a tell tale sign of an anal sub.
I double up the belt and let it dangle from my hand. I approach her, lightly running my hands over her backside and lower back. I hear a muffled moan, she shifts slightly. Her breathing starts to deepen. You can taste the tension in the air. I breathe it in, savoring the moment before the session begins.
She is shifting her weight, waiting for me to start, I can feel it, she is desperate for it to start, to get it over with. I draw the belt over her ass. She flinches, followed by a shudder and a high pitched moan. I leave it there for a moment. then draw in a deep breath.
And swing. The world goes quiet still, and then exploits into a series of reactions. The belt lands at a slight angle, I watch the shock wave dance across her cheeks as she jolts. I didn’t do it hard, we are just getting started, if she were an inexperienced sub,This would be as hard as I would go, but she isn’t, she is a veteran, and to her, this should be easy.
She moans, but doesn’t move, keeps her position, her hands clnch into fists as I watch the red line start to form.
“One” I say.
The second follows right away, with this speed it’s easy to control the belt, using the red line as a guide, I place the second strike directly onto it. This is a hard strike, combined with hitting over the last strike causes her to jolt. I listen to the anguished muffled moan as she moves her ass, like somehow gyrating it will make the pain go away.
“Two” I say. Wondering if she is now beginning to realize what she has asked me to do.
The red line has now doubled in size, standing proud against the white of her cheeses.
The third is when I start to push, it landed higher than the first two, she made her jump, her legs closed together, her toes clenched and flexed. That was when the sobbing started.
Four, Five andSix are delivered in quick succession, I am not toying anymore, we are in session. Her arms twist and grab at the ottoman. The shouting has stopped, replaced with constant sobbing, her ass is glowing read, each hit filling in the patch work of red on her ass. It’s going to a deep crisis.
We keep going.
By the time we reach the halfway point, the hits barely register to her, she is deep in the subspace, her ass is sticky and deep crisis. The sweat is dripping from her, the sheen covers her body, her breathing rhythmic and deep. I can see her juices and sweat mingling as they drip from her. The room is damp and humid. My wrist brings that familiar ache, and my cock is straining against my trousers.
“Halfway there, Good Girl, breath deep for me.” I see a weak nod from her, I think it could just be part of her sobbing.
I start to work my way down, I transition from her ass to the tops of her thighs and down for the last 10 strikes. The transition startles her, she jumps again, this time I am struggling virgin territory again, I get a new soul punching cry as she collapses forward. She throws herself off balance and rolls off of the ottoman.
I watch her curl up on the floor, I expect her to click her fingers, to call it off, but after a minute, the sobbing stops and she climbs back onto the ottoman. This is a very hard thing to do, the amount of effort required is impressive.
“Good Girl” I tell her as I see her unsteadily get back to her position. The room is silent again, just the sound of her breathing and the cloying feeling from the sweat in the room. We start again.
Each strike a little further down her legs, each strike leaves it’s bright red marks on her white skin. There is no sobbing, there is no slippage of control, she takes every one with a quiet acceptance.
“Twenty” I tell her as I drop the belt from my hands. She collapses on her side, I walk over to the ottoman and sit next to her, she crawls onto my lap, balling up like she was a cat. I stroke the sweat sodden hair from her face as I look at her tea streaked face,
I reach around and undo the gag, allowing it to fall into my lap as I keep stroking her hair.
“You did so well! I am proud of you. You were such a good girl” I tell her as I stroke her face and shoulders.
“Do you feel better?” I ask her, she nods her head but says nothing. I keep stroking her hair as she returns from subspace, saying nothing more, allowing her room to come back. She holds me as her breathing slows, I watch her as she begins to come back to reality.
My cock is straining and I can feel her head press against it. It takes her a couple of minutes to realize what it is that’s poking in her ear. I feel her sight, and then I feel her hand reach for my trousers. She looks at be expected, I nod my head, she starts to undo my jeans.
It’s difficult to take off my pants with laying on me, so I nudge her to move off me. I standup, as I do, she drops to her knees instinctively, her hands in front of her, her mouth open lewdly. Obviously this is something she is accustomed to. She is well trained.
She takes my cock in her mouth in one go, I feel it press against her throat. She’s good, but I take my hands and place them on her head and force her deeper. I feel my cock slip into her throat, she starts to gag, but I keep pushing my cock deeper into her throat.
Her hands reach up to cup my ass as I start fucking her throat. I start thrusting my cock into her mouth as I push her head back with my hands. My hands grabbing chunks of her hair as I fuck harder and harder. I am lost in my own need, feeling her throat flex around my cock, as I pull myself out to the tip of her mouth before thrusting back in again.I know I am going to cum, it’s all been too much. I am not trying to pace myself, I feel the need for release as I keep fucking her mouth.
All too soon, I feel the approach of the final strokes, I thrust hard and deep, pushing her head to meet my crotch. I feel rope after rope of my cum stream into her throat, I am so deep in her throat I don’t think she needs to swallow, it just runs directly into her stomach.
Finally I let go of her hair, as she greedily starts to suck and lick my cock clean, licking all the juices from my cock as it starts to shrink in her mouth.
After what I feel like an eternity I sit down on the ottoman, she crawls up and puts her head in my lap, idly sucking on my cock as she goes to sleep.
This is for my beloved “Bro”, who didn’t want me to write this. I miss domming you every day
Leave a Reply