They go to a caning workshop, sit on the comfortable couch, touching gently, watching the woman in leather deftly wield the instruments, listening intently to her explanations as she demonstrates her craft.
She strokes his puppy head, he shifts closer to touch more of her, she leans into him now and then to whisper about what they are seeing. She had never been so interested in canes, she is not a sadist (she sees him smile at that, a soft, amused ‘yes Ma’am’ wanting to trip off his tongue, she shushes him and continues…), she is not a sadist, so has never been so much interested in the hardness, the unforgiving nature of canes. This one, though, this boy, has some depth of masochism that she hasn’t seen before, she doesn’t attract the masochistic boys, but she has one now and she wants to see where she can take him. She watches, and learns.
Later, she has him tied over a bench, bent over, naked and exposed. She touches him gently, he quivers, he is afraid. She leans down to kiss him and she can feel him drawing comfort from her, sucking her courage into him. She strokes his body down, like he is a wild thing that needs calming, then steps back, hefting the cane, getting used to its weight, its length.
She starts softly on his arse, judging the distance, the angle of the strikes, watching the slight marks appear. He lifts up to her, offering himself, it makes her smile. The flick is enough to see a reaction, she holds it lightly, gaining confidence, taking her time, they have all the time in the world.
The rhythm comes easily, she finds her stride. Steady at first, she changes it up, faster, then slow, a few hard strikes in a row, the sound cuts into the room, harsh and sharp. She checks the marks, she whispers to him, she kisses him, he starts to lose focus.
“Are you paying attention, boy?” she asks.
“Yes Ma’am”, he murmurs. “While I can still kiss you I am ok Ma’am.”
She laughs and continues.
Some time later, his arse is a mess, his thighs, his calves show the marks of her enthusiasm also. He squirms away from her strikes, his knees bending sideways as he tries to escape the next hit, he is silent, his face is resting against the bench, a puddle of spit is flowing away from his mouth, when she leans down to him, his unseeing eyes barely register her presence, when she closes in for a kiss he no longer reaches for her. He is high on the pain, he has drifted away from her, he is floating, he has had enough.
She looks at his arse, it is darkly purple-bruised, pulpy, like ripe fruit, she touches it with her fingertips and he moans, she can feel the blood right under the skin, a few more strikes and she would break through to blood-splatter.
She unties him, he gazes at her, surrender and hope, he can barely move, she helps him up and leads him to the bed.
“I’m not done with you yet, boy,” she whispers.
He nods, “Yes Ma’am, I’m glad.”
Hi there, I just wanted to say I love your writing. You have a way of bringing out the tenderness in the pain that really registers with me.
Alisa: Thank you, I'm always so glad when I hear from women who can relate. It makes me feel a bit less disconnected from the way female domination is often portrayed out there in the world.
Very nice. What a lovely portrayal of such an intimate experience. So interesting to see how you feed off each other.
Boy, good thing she isn't a sadist.
Yardbird: Thank you, and yes, it is very much a feeding off each other. I remember speaking to a young newbie submissive quite a while ago who said 'It's easy, all I have to do is show up and do what I'm told' and it's actually very difficult, it not impossible, to explain *what* exactly he has to give back to his dominant and how, but if that 'something' is not there, there is no joy in it for her.
“Boy, good thing she isn't a sadist.”
Yes, he's lucky right? Heh.
I have just recently started to read more of this…the Domme side with submissive males. Although a female bottom myself, I find the play and exchange between female Tops and male bottoms to be quiet interesting and vastly different from the other..male Tops with female bottoms. I enjoyed this quite a bit and although this is the first time I believe I have been on your blog, it will assuredly not be the last. Thank you.
thepinkpoppet: Thank you, and welcome.
I do think the femdom dynamic is very different from the maledom. Part of it is in the turnaround of roles of aggressor/recipient, but there is different kind of energy with a female dominant.
I would love to be able to physically overpower my boy, to genuinely *force* him to do things, and I also have a touch of cock envy because it's much easier to *take* pleasure with it. In those aspects male dominants have my envy. I'd make a great gay male top!
This post reminded me of my interactions with my Sir. The way she settles me, sooths me, pushes me to my edges and brings me back.. I really enjoyed reading this.
Kyle: I'm glad you could relate to it.
That gentle tenderness in the midst of the harshness is a huge part of the intimacy for me, that's what turns it from 'thwak thwak' into something much much more.