Getting to know S
First Session with MS
It has been a while since I have played, and finding a new partner, someone who just feels right is epically difficult. However, it has finally happened. I have been talking to S (from here forward I'll refer to him as Master) for a few weeks now. He is an awesome due over all but my goodness he has a sadistic streak a mile wide. We are supposed to be meeting and the following events are my chronology of those events.
I'll be there at 10 am or there abouts. However, I won't let you know when I'm leaving so you can't get too worked up while waiting.
He knows me so well. He knows how I work and how I think. We have talked so much about everything, about me, about him and our mutual interests. It's been a slow build up to this, both wanting to meet, but having to wait for a suitable time for us both, meaning we had a lot of time talking on video calls, sending voice notes and chatting to each other.
We had started our D/s interactions with assigned tasks and being held accountable for those tasks, providing proof and the like. It is something I'd never really done before but it was fun and it helped me to understand him better and measure our compatibility, as the response to my difficulties (when I had them) was as important as the praise. I realised that he had a sadistic streak a mile wide, and that he had a lot of the natural tone and air of a Dominant expecting to be obeyed.
I am trying not to get myself too wound up while I wait. I take some deep breaths and work through the morning routine, making my bed, laying out all the toys, as per the instructions, then laying out the clothes I've to wear, and hop in the shower. I take my time, making sure to shave everywhere, under my arms, my legs, and of course my cunt. Once I'm sure that I'm up to expected standards I get myself dry and dressed. Normally I'd have breakfast too but I couldn't even consider eating due to nerves.
I then busied myself completing boring housework tasks, emptying bins, clearing up the kitchen, hoovering the bedroom and generally just did anything to keep myself distracted. As 10 o'clock approached I could no longer distract myself and opted to pace between the bedroom and the front windows. After an age my phone buzzed.
I'm outside
I rush up to the front window and peek out, and the car is sitting there. The anxiety hits 10 so I grab my hoody and pull it on pulling up the hood as I head down the stairs to meet him, opening the door quickly and heading down the path. I feel the need to stim so stuff my hands into my jeans pockets. I stand at the end of the path, examining my shoes closely, not daring to even look up to meet his presence never mind his eye.
He walks up cool as a cucumber and does exactly what he'd promised. He reaches up and tilts my chin back before kissing my forehead and his hand sneaks round to the back of my neck where he grips, not too tightly and directs me up the path towards the house, keeping me just in front of him. I lead him inside, close the door (getting chided for not having keys to hand to lock the door - they were retrieved, and door locked) and lead him upstairs to my room, which I had so carefully prepared.
We entered the room, me holding my arm open in welcome and ushering him into the room, as much as someone like him can be. He settles himself in the chair I'd been told to provide.
"Kneel," the only word he utters.
I quickly drop to my knees, my eyes never having left the carpet anyway, my hands falling naturally into my lap, feeling my cheeks burn, not sure if I'm embarrassed or just plain awkward but either way the effect is the same.
"Come closer," he says, almost kindly, directing my gaze to where he wants me with his hand. I nod and scoot forward to meet the demand. I've waited so long to be this close, waiting so desperately to be the best version of myself all for him, so he is proud of me.
He runs his hands through my hair and I feel relief. I'd just recently had it styled and it was meant to be entirely a surprise, which meant I wasn't sure how it would be received. It would appear however that he liked it, given the way he was stroking it. It was so relaxing and I just wanted to melt into a little puddle on the floor.
He put his finger under my chin tipping my head up towards him. I automatically closed my eyes, waiting. He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the mouth, "Are you ready, baby?" he asks gruffly. I cannot even answer so I simply nod.
"When I tell you to, you will walk over to the wall and stand with your head against it and put your hands above your head,"
"Yes, Master," I respond quietly, knowing nodding won't be accepted this time.
"3, 2," I can hear the smile in his voice, "1, move."
I jump to my feet and hastily move just as he told me to, not daring to induce more wrath, as I already knew I had accrued punishment due to bratty and inappropriate responses previously. Quickly I put myself into the position he demanded.
"Higher" was the only word he uttered as I felt him move behind me. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and I could feel his eyes roving all over me. I couldn't help but feel like meat on the block at auction; being scrutinized for fault.
He had me spread my fingers, move my hands to examine them both front and back, lifting my dress and running his hands all over my body, goose bumps following his every touch. I close my eyes against the sensory overload, a small whimper escaping my lips.
"Turn around and put your hands up again," he whispers into my ear. I do as bid and turn around once more. He lifts my dress again.
"Open," he says, holding the hem in front of my face. I obey and he snaps, "Hold it," so I do. His hands resume their exploration of my flesh, running over my breasts and down between my legs. I can feel my cheeks burning brightly at the invasion of my most intimate space. I cringe, knowing how wet I already am from his treatment.
"Spread your legs, whore," he orders, his leg already nudging mine insistently in the direction he wishes it to go. I acquest as quick as I can, spreading them as far as I dare.
"Good girl," he says kindly stroking my cheek with one hand while the other dips between my legs. I can feel the wetness gathering and a shiver goes down my spine as his fingers graze over the top of my already engorged clit. I close my eyes against the sensations and bite down hard on the hem of my dress, stifling a whimper that wishes to escape.
I hear him retreat to his chair, and wait, not knowing what is next, scared to think too much for fear my brain will run away with me, utterly humiliated at being so exposed to his gaze, but knowing that at the same moment it is making my pussy twitch with a need that cannot be denied.
"Come here," he orders, patting his thigh and as an after thought he adds, "You can drop your dress."
I sigh a little with relief and let the dress drop before I kneel at his feet again, he pulls my hair gently to rest on his thigh and I sigh with contentment. He runs his hands through my hair, stroking my head and generally being very affectionate. I clearly my throat and whisper, "Do you like my hair, Master?"
His hand pauses in my hair, and he replies, the smile clear in his voice, even though I dare not meet his eye, "Yes baby girl, I love it. It is long enough for me to pull, and it suits you."
I blush again, wondering if my face is now bright enough to light the room, "Thank you, Master, I was so nervous you wouldn't." I continue to lean into his hand, enjoying the smell of him, and the sensation of him stroking my head and hair.
"Against the wall, again," Master demands. I whimper but comply as quickly as I can, wondering what is coming next. I close my eyes and wait. I feel him walk up behind me and lift my dress, tucking it into the neckline, essentially exposing my back and ass to the air, "Do not move," he orders.
Those words make me tense, my body pressed against the wall, not knowing for sure what's coming till I hear him slide his belt out of the loops in his trousers. I stifle a gasp as the tension builds, I can feel my legs shake slightly, knowing that what's about to happen is going to hurt, the only question being how much. I ball and un-ball my hands and take some deep breaths as I wait, knowing there is nothing I can do to prepare for it.
Then I hear it, the whistle of the belt through the air, about a nanosecond before the strike lands, firmly across my buttocks. I jump at the stinging and before I have even had time to draw breath and the sting ends another blow lands, right on top of the first. It takes my breath away, and I squirm, to no avail. The blows come fast and accurately layering over one another, not much variance in their position.
It doesn't take long, maybe 4 or 5 strikes before I am apologising profusely and begging for mercy. My legs are shaking, and my breathing is shallow from the sheer intensity of the situation. I want so badly to protect the vulnerable skin of my ass but not being brave, or maybe stupid enough to move my hands off the wall without permission. The blows keep coming for what feels like forever, but it transpires to only be 10 of them.
"Okay, baby girl," he murmurs, stepping closer to me, his hand caressing my bruised flesh, "how about we tie you down before we finish your punishment, eh?" I simply nod, taking deep breaths and allowing his strokes to comfort me.
He motions to the bed, "Kneel down by the bed, baby girl." He takes a set of leather cuffs and attaches one to each limb, before affixing a collar around my throat. I find this so soothing and willingly give over each part of myself to this process.
"Lay face down on the bed, and arrange yourself in the St Andrews position," he says, and I do so, spreading my limbs as far as I can. He busies himself affixing my limbs to the 4 corners of the bed, pulled fairly tight, lessening my ability to jerk or move. On top of that he pulls 2 ropes tightly across the bed, one the middle of my back, the other just around my knee height, pinning me down yet further.
He lifts the belt and I see it in his hand. I whimper involuntarily and shut my eyes tight against the coming pain. This is my punishment and I've earned it but it doesn't mean I have to like it.
"Only 50 more, baby girl," he says, a wicked grin on his face and an obvious erection in his pants. I can see he is truly enjoying my suffering, giving me heart to endure what he is giving me, I'm making my Master proud. I nod my head and bury it into the sheet, trying to relax as much as I can.
The blows land, very similar in pattern, 3 or 4 in each place in quick succession, I have no time to think, no time to breath, only pain. After the 5 or 6 blow, I twist away as much as I can, not quite crying but begging.
"Please Master, I'm sorry Master, I'll never be bad again, Master."
"Back on to your belly," he commands. I whimper, and he simply adds, "Now."
I comply, very much aware of the fact that I would only make the situation worse by fighting it further. He gives me a moment before the strikes resume. I endure going through similar motions, every 8 or so blows.
Finally, I am crying and whisper, "Red," not a complete stop to play, as a safe word would be, but a temporary halt at least. My brain is scrambled, and I need time to let it catch up with all that has happened. My body is on fire, and I am gasping for breath.
He comes over and sits on the bed beside me, gently stroking my hair and hushing me in a soothing voice. He tells me how well I have taken my punishment and says that he is so proud of me. Despite the pain, despite my obvious upset, I still thank him for such a compliment. It means the world to me. He tells me that I've taken 40 so far and if I take the next 10 well he will knock ten off the score owed for my excellent behaviour and I nod my agreement and take some deep breaths, steeling myself for the incoming pain.
Thankfully the time he had been soothing me allowed my body to process the previous pain and I was able to steel myself for the last 10 strikes. I balled my hands up in the sheet and bit into the pillow beside my face and indicated to Master that I was ready for him to start again.
The last 10 lashes felt like a billion, my brain was on fire and all I could feel was the burning in my ass. The blows rained down fast and hard. I wept, knowing I had to endure, it was what I was owed for disappointing my Master. I knew he was doing me a kindness and that I would be thankful when it was over.
As quickly as it started it was over and he was beside me stroking my hair, I leaned into his hand, the tears still streaming down my face. He starts to loose the bonds allowing me a little more movement although I can't bring myself to move initially.
"Thank you, Master," I whisper.
"That's it over, baby girl," he replies, "You did so well and took your punishment like a good girl."
His praise raises a smile on my face as he pulled me into a cuddle, stroking my hair, my face and my back, comforting me even as the pain dies down to a lower, more manageable level. I draw myself close to him, taking in his scent, and his obvious arousal, which makes me secretly grin despite myself.
My body is flooded with adrenaline, and I'm hyped now that the initial shock of it has worn off. I enjoy his soothing affection, being held close and touched with genuine affection and comfort. Then as my breathing starts to settle his hands begin to wander more exploring the rest of me, first my nipples and my breasts then dipping lower.
"Someone really enjoyed that didn't they?" He says when his fingers come away covered in my juices. I try to hid my head but he stops me, "Nothing to be ashamed of, you're my little whore aren't you?"
I squirm in place and say nothing initially, but he pulls on my hair and repeats the question, so I whisper, "I am, Master."
His hand dipped back between my legs, making me moan at his attentions to my very hot and bothered sex. He wasn't lying when he said I was wet, I could feel my clit pulsing, begging for attention. He was better at making my body sing than I was, touching my clit in a way that felt like an electric shock, before dipping his fingers inside me, exploring my insides, stretching my cunt and making me whimper.
"You are going to cum for me, aren't you?" He asks.
I moan again at the intensity of the sensations and nod. I have already learned that Master will not be denied and that to refuse the generous gift of an orgasm would be an egregious insult to him.
"Besides we have a new toy or two to try, don't we baby girl?" He says, the attention on my cunt still as intense, as I start to buck my hips, knowing I'm about to fall over the cliff whether I want to or not.
"Please can I cum, Master?" I manage to squeeze out between moans, knowing that it wont matter soon what the reply is because ultimately if he doesn't stop I wont have a choice.
"Yes, baby girl," he grins, "come on, squirt on Masters hand."
That's about as much of an invitation as I need and I feel the sensations come crashing through me like a tidal wave, moaning through gritted teeth I squirt and cover Masters hand in cum. As I started to come down from the waves of pleasure my brain registered the fact that the stimulation hadn't stopped, if anything it had increased.
I opened my eyes to try and get my bearings and notice Master has brought out the wand, and also the tentacle toy he had me buy, the thing was thin at the top but had a massive base and I wasn't convinced it would fit where he intended it to go. I gave an involuntary whimper and tried to squirm away and close my legs against the intrusion.
"Open your fucking legs now, bitch," he growls at me.
I sag a little under his words but comply quickly opening them as wide as I can, knowing that if I don't, he will simply make me do so and I'll be trussed up like a turkey and the outcome will be the same.
I scrunch my eyes tight against the oncoming sensations, hearing him turn on the wand, turning it up high. I found it hard when I used it but being completely out of control the sensations were even more intense, and I whimpered and moaned.
"Hush now," Master said, just as I felt the tip of the tentacle at my opening. I had to use every focus to be able to remain silent, clenching my jaw tightly. Slowly, ever so slowly, I could feel him pushing it inside me, the sensation of it caressing my insides enough to drive me over the edge again. "That's right," he murmurs, "cum for me, I love watching you cum, you are such a whore."
The humiliation of the situation burns through me, making my face, neck and chest turn a bright pink. The orgasm hit me like a truck, my whole body shaking with the need to cum and I can stay quiet no longer, groaning and whimpering, muttering "fuck" on repeat, and at this point I'm still not sure how many times he made me cum, but I think it was at least 5.
In our BDSM session with Master, his sadistic streak was evident during the punitive orgasms he orchestrated, pushing me to my limits. Despite the discomfort, I found myself eagerly awaiting each orgasm, wanting to please him and show my submission.
Later in the session, Master's dominating presence was evident as he commanded me to get into various positions, always keeping me on the edge of anticipation, eager for his next command. His skill in bringing me to orgasm was astounding, and I found myself craving his touch, even after the intense session we had just had.