HappyComeLucky

I am incredibly lucky in having B as a friend and as someone who I play with.

Last week he contacted me and proposed a scene. The details he shared were jewels dropped into my mind causing both emotional and physical responses. My nerves fluttered and trembled. As always, the simplicity cut through and left me no hiding place from what I was to face.

Six of the best is such an iconic concept in British corporal punishment. I have long pondered on the idea of it. Six utterly deliberate, harsh strokes. No warm up. No mediating each blow in response to reactions.  Six.

B told me that it would be a discipline scene. And it was. I often giggle in play, and I realised that I was nervous about the role-play aspect. Those nerves were completely unnecessary. B was so stern and totally in control. I didn’t even get as far as a sassy response forming in my mouth. I was cowed. My hands behind my back to keep them still. I was caught between wanting to look down at my feet to escape the intensity of his eyes boring into me and being unable to break that eye contact. That eye contact felt like the thing that tethered me there and stopped me from crumbling.

The first punishment was immediate. Bent over the arm of the sofa and spanked. Not a warm up spanking where I ride the building endorphins and start to soar on pleasure. This was hard and punishing and I had to fight with myself to take it.

When it stopped, I was left alone. My hands behind my back again while I settled into a space within myself. I was proud I had taken the spanking and was fearful that I would not be able to take what came next.

Standing waiting to be called again really played with my mind. Those minutes felt like for ever. If someone told me that I had waited for twenty minutes, I would have believed them. It wasn’t of course but the mood that B set for the scene was so intense that I was the person who had broken the rules and was waiting for punishment. Waiting for an escalating punishment.

So it continued…

Called in.

Allegations explained.

Disappointment and consequences expressed.

Take position.

Six hard strikes.

Sent back out.

And repeat.

The strap.

The cane.

The paddle.

The list went on. Each time, I was pinned in place by the intensity of his look and his voice. Each time, I scuttled back afterwards.

The thin cane nearly broke me. It stings with such a searing line of fire, and the blows were so fast. At the third one, I cried out and flinched away. It was hopeless. He caught me around my waist with his free hand pinned me and delivered the rest. The effect of being caught and pinned against him to complete the six took me to a different headspace. The demonstration of his complete physical mastery over me was powerful and pushed my submission further.

The last set was, of course, more. This wasn’t a six. This was a twelve. This was a twelve with a cane that was stronger than the earlier one. This was a twelve that I needed to take. I needed to take it because he had told me that I would. This was a twelve that I knew would hurt and hurt and hurt. This was the twelve that were being delivered by a powerful sadist who was going to make each one count.

I still don’t think that I have really expressed how intense this scene was for me. It pushed so many of my buttons. B set the scene and maintained the mood all the way through. He was in control and I felt our connection in such an intense way.