Today is official designated as No Sit Friday.
My bottom is so sore, it is not even funny.
Robert has a flogger in his collection of implements. When we combined our toys in one big steamer trunk (when we moved in together), I purposefully stashed this multi-tailed whip away far in the back. I honestly was a little afraid of it, it intimidated me. My gut feeling wasn’t wrong.
By the end of the day yesterday, I was in an especially randy mood.
We don’t have an elevator in our place, but I assumed a position much like this just inside the front door, so that when my lover came home from work, he’d be sure to notice me. I’m subtle like that, trusting in Robert’s sense of keen observation.
Miraculously, it worked.
“Has someone been a naughty little girl today?” he asked.
“Maybe…” I teased, winking at him fore and aft.
“Go stretch out on the bed and wait for me there,” he instructed. I expected him to loosen his tie, maybe roll up his shirt sleeves, but instead Robert stripped nude. I looked at him quizzically. “I think I might work up a sweat disciplining you this evening,” was all he said by way of explanation.
With me unobtrusively watching his every move, he went to the steamer trunk. “What implements should I choose to address the many needs of my naughty Jeanie?” he asked rhetorically. He rummaged around, then pulled out the flogger. “Hey, I’d forgotten we had this…” he said with delight in his voice. My tummy tightened. “Have you ever felt this implement?”
“No, sir,” I whispered.
He rose with just this one implement in hand and closed the trunk’s lid. “Well, that was easy.” Nothing would be easy about the evening ahead.
“Don’t you want to restrain me?” I suggested, hoping he’d take the hint that I was scared and wanted to be bound.
“No, I want you to lay just like you are. I expect you to hold still for this lesson without restraint, Jeanie. Is that clear?”
“And if I wanted to restrain you, you’d be restrained. You have to quit ‘topping from below’ young lady. Is that clear?”
He did that thing where he held the handle with his right hand and held the whip-tails with his left, providing tension and resistance, so that the stroke would be its hardest.
The first lash was a revelation. I felt as though I could decipher between each of the twelve tails, and each one stung my upturned tush mightily. After just a few strokes, I thought I was at my boundary of endurance, blinking back profuse tears, unable to contain the yelps that leap out of my throat. But it was my butt where I was centered on with all my consciousness because that was where my lover was focused with his laser-like concentration. Robert redefined my limits, took me far further than I would have thought possible. He whipped me hard late into the night. When I thought I couldn’t possible take any more, he rolled me over, entered my sex with his, fucked me into a sense of renewed rejuvenation, then rolled me back over to flog me some more. This cycle went on and on, I lost count, but I think for at least six repetitions. Finally he mounted me and fucked me to release, pounding my sore bum into the suddenly-rough-feeling bed sheets.
He laid the warm whip on my pulsing pussy when he rolled off.
He let me regain control by holding me, and when I’d cried it all out and could think and speak and be with him there in our bedroom again, he said, “I won’t ask you what you think of the flogger. You always make it seem like that most recent discipline was the epitome of everything you’ve ever experienced. I’ll simply ask if that session took care of all your needs…?”
“Yes, sir,” I sighed, “thank you, sir.”
I slept so deeply, so contented in my Top’s arms all night long. But today I am beyond black and blue. Every color in the rainbow is evidenced in the bruises across my ass. I think of this state as being “galaxied” because starbursts of vivid colors radiate from my backside, like those Hubble telescope photos of our universe. It hurts just to think about moving. Fortunately, I can work from home. Fortunately, I can take frequent breaks to stare at my ass in the looking glass, and remember details about the beating, and touch myself, keeping me on that razor’s edge between excitement and satisfaction. The one thing I cannot do is sit. It is No Sit Friday, maybe No Sit Weekend, too. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am a happy and fulfilled little submissive!