This is my life: whipped bloody

He stood there excitedly while I put rope around his legs. He was smiling and practically vibrating with the excitement of what he hoped was coming. I took the opportunity to run my hands over his lithe body as I was working the rope around his legs. Then I led him over to the hard point and put the cuffs around his wrists. He smiled at me as I raised his arms up and locked him into place.

I smacked him around a little bit and bit him. He was already shaking and moaning, and still almost vibrating with what I was going to do to him. He’s wanted it since I first kissed him with my whip. And tonight I wanted to give it to him. But not yet. I got out my thick leather flogger. Getting hit with it is almost like being hit by a bat, it’s so heavy. He was having trouble keeping his feet. But I could tell he was also enjoying it.

Then I got out one of my new whips. He was the first to feel it. I got it just for him. I wanted to bloody him with it and make it my whip for him alone. He was shocked but excited by the change. His body reacted. He jumped a little with the lick of the whip. Slowly, I worked up the intensity. Slowly, his reactions changed from sighs and moans to yelps and gasping. He was shaking now. Well past the excited vibrating. It was no longer coming. No longer a concept. A wish. It was here. It was now.

As the whip kept coming, no longer kissing him gently, he started crying. Beautiful tears flowing down his beautiful face. His body was trying to get away from the whip, but he wanted it to keep coming as well. If he’d really wanted to get away, he could have done so many things. He could have moved out of my striking range. He could have turned around. He could have used his safeword. But he didn’t. He shook and moved a little, but never so far I couldn’t reach him. And he was sobbing now. His back striped and starting to bleed. His whole body was heaving with his tears. I kept going. I kept going til he was a sobbing, bleeding, beautiful, glorious heap.

When I finally stopped, I came around to his face with tissues. I knew he would need them. And he did. His face was wet with tears and snot. And I let him blow his nose into my tissues before I would let his hands free. He was trying, somewhat incoherently, to apologize for the snot. But I wouldn’t hear of it. I couldn’t let him apologize for something so raw and vulnerable and exquisite. I finally freed his wrists and his arms dropped like stones. I held him tight, unable to express any other way how awed by him I was in that moment. His capacity for vulnerability and pain leave me speechless. He started crying again in my arms. I wanted to tell him how amazed I am by him. Giving me this. After all the years I’ve been doing this. Finally. But I couldn’t. All I could do was hold him as he cried some more in my arms.

Later. Much later. When I could speak clearly again. I finally told him.


4 responses to “This is my life: whipped bloody

  1. writingthebody

    Just beautiful. Beautiful.

  2. demasiadodemasiado

    Great post. Thanks!

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