A Typical Scene (M-dom / F-sub)

It started on the couch, as it often does.

A little snuggling during a commercial, and soon we both lost
interest in the TV, so off it went. We kissed, first quick
light kisses, then deeper, more insistent. He gently
massaged my breasts beneath my t-shirt, through my bra,
lightly tweaking my nipples, “waking them up” as we call it.

And so it went, for a little while, friendly, cuddly
necking, laughing, teasing, as we each got aroused. Then,
almost as a signal, he simultaneously bit my neck, lightly
but hard enough to hurt, and pinched my nipple tightly
between his fingers. Suddenly the mood changed. I felt a
wave of apprehension, which was quickly overwhelmed by a
sudden insistent desire, a sharp contrast to the gentle
arousal I felt moments felt. My body tensed in anticipation.

He quickly disentangled himself from my now limp arms, and
stood before me. I sat up straight on the center of the
couch, with my eyes lowered to the floor. My mind was
already racing ahead to what would happen next, excited and
nervous. I should know better; trying to anticipate only
distracts me from now, and I never know what He is going to

He put his finger under my chin, and I looked up into His
eyes. “Are you my submissive?” He asked, seriously. I knew
this would be the last time He asked for my consent that
night, and that knowledge filled me again with that strange
mixture of apprehension and desire. Once I gave my consent,
I was his, to do whatever he wished with. What would he do?
I paused, for I never answer this question lightly, and then
breathed “yes”. He smiled His approval, and I felt suddenly
that I wanted nothing more than His approval. Once again I
lowered my eyes.

He instructed me to sit still, close my eyes, and not to
move until he returned. He went into the bedroom, and
immediately, against my better judgement, I started
anticipating. Will it hurt? Will I please Him? What will he
tell me to do? I heard the door to the “toy cabinet” open
and my thoughts returned to the present, as I feel the area
between my legs start to tingle.

His absence was frustrating, but, thankfully, short. He
came back into the room, but I keep my eyes closed, as
instructed.  “Hands behind your head, shoulders back,
breasts out,” He commanded. Even fully dressed as I was,
that position always makes me feel vulnerable. It’s His
favorite position, because it makes my breasts accessible
from all angles. He stepped around behind the couch,
standing directly behind me, and reached over my shoulders
to rub my breasts. He squeezed them roughly, and pulled at
my nipples. I know He enjoys this, and He knows I enjoy it.
My breathing started to speed up, and I thrust my chest out
more, to his rough hands.

He stopped suddenly, and I gasped. He paused, and I
wondered what was going on? Did I displease Him? Was I too
eager? Is He upset, I wonder, and I feel my arousal begin to
drop. Then I feel the tip of the riding crop gently
caressing my cheek, and I was soaring again! I smiled, for
then I knew he was not upset; I have pleased and I am happy.

The crop moved to my breasts, teasing them occasionally
with light taps, and once again I had to force myself not to
anticipate. Even as I was performing this mental exercise,
He lifted the crop and swung it down hard, across both
breasts. The pain was not immediate, but took a few seconds
to sink in, and swell to agony. I groaned with pain, gritted
my teeth, and felt my eyes fill with tears. Briefly, doubt
and fear crossed my mind, and I had to quell the urge to
yell “Stop!” (we don’t use code-words. “Stop” means stop.
But once I say “stop”, that’s it. He will stop, but won’t
start again that evening.) But almost instantly that urge
was replaced by a desire so strong I wondered how I could
have hesitated. My trust in Him is total. I relaxed with the
knowledge that He would never hurt me, and let the pain soak
through my body, lighting up each nerve as it traveled
through my body, resting eventually as a hot aching feeling
in my groin.

He instructed me to open my eyes, stand, and follow him
into the bedroom. My breasts still throbbed in pain, and
this kept my mind firmly on the present, wonderfully, so
that I did not anticipate. As I was walking, I found that I
was hyper-aware, noticing every detail of my body, and His,
and our surroundings. He lay down on the bed, and I stood in
my traditional spot next to Him, head bowed, hands clasped
behind my back. He told me to go to the end of the bed and
remove my clothes, slowly and in such a way that he would
enjoy watching. I removed one piece at a time, wiggling and
thrusting as I know he likes. He smiled at me, and I know it
meant I was beautiful. I feel beautiful, when I make him
happy, when it’s so clear he desires me.

When I finish he told me to look in the mirror. Already
appearing on my breasts were two “kisses” — two perfectly
symmetrical oval bruises, the size of half dollars, bright
red but turning blue slowly. “A gift”, He says, and I
realize he is standing behind me, looking in the mirror at
me. I cherish the sight of his mark on me, and savor the
still lingering pain, and am so happy. I knew those bruises
would be there a long time, to remind me that I was His.

Still standing behind me, He reached around me and wrapped
the collar around my neck. I smiled, ecstatic. The collar
has special meaning for me — it’s mine, and I am His. He
turned me around, and gently kissed and sucked each nipple,
and rubbed his fingers lightly across the bruises.

He told me to remove His clothes, which I did carefully
but quickly. All the while I found myself brushing up
against His hard penis, and getting unbearably excited. The
pain in my breasts had pretty much subsided, so once again
it was difficult to concentrate.

When He was left only with His underwear, I knelt down
before Him to remove them, and then stayed there, looking up
at Him. He knew what I wanted, and smiled at me. He held my
head firmly in His hands and guided my mouth toward His
penis. I took it eagerly! Oh, to have Him entering me! I go
down on him with all my enthusiasm, and His gasps of
pleasure were music to my ears. Each indication that I was
pleasing him sent a wave of pleasure through me. Every now
and then he reached down and pinched my nipples, and I
increased the tempo in response to my own increasing
arousal. I was fairly dripping!

All too soon, he stopped me with a motion of his hand. His
breathing was hard and his face was flushed, and I knew that
I had excited Him. I smiled to myself, proud to be able to
have such an effect on Him, but of course, I do not let it

He returned to His position on the bed, and I returned to
mine next to Him. He told me to get the wrist cuffs out of
the toy cabinet, behind me, and put them on my wrists. I got
them, and struggled to put them on, even though I had done
this many times before. He offered to help me and I was
overjoyed! To feel His hands firmly tightening my bonds…He
is so in control. I felt an urge to drop to my knees, but
resisted. Although I would have liked to give over control
of my body to Him, I knew that He wanted me to do this
myself; it’s my job, so I stay on my feet and finish putting
them on. He told me also to put the ankle cuffs on, and I
managed to do this without help, as much as I would have
liked Him to help me.

He instructed me to stand at the end of the bed, again,
and this time he followed. He got two wooden bars out of the
cabinet, each with metal rings at the end. The shorter one,
about 3 feet long, he attached to the wrist cuffs, each cuff
clipped to one of the rings. The longer one (about 4 feet)
attached to the ankle cuffs. My legs were spread wide enough
to make me feel very exposed, but not uncomfortable. He
lifted the bar between my wrists, and hung it from a hook in
the ceiling, so that I was forced to stand up straight, but
had enough leeway to lean into the bonds without being
suspended, keeping my feet flat on the floor.

He stepped back and watched me, spread eagle in front of
Him, and smiled. “What am I going to do with you now?” He
asked in mock confusion. I had some ideas on the subject,
but I didn’t mention them, of course — I knew that He had
His own ideas, and I got even more excited thinking about
what they might be. First He stepped forward, and caressed
my breasts with His warm, firm hands. He caressed me all
over, kissing my nipples.

Then He stepped back to the cabinet and took out the
blindfold, and slipped it over my head. He knows I prefer
not being able to see — it helps keep me from
anticipating, helps me concentrate on the feelings in my
body, and on His voice and instructions. It also means He
can get out the toys without my being able to know what He’s
going to do until He does it.

Again he paused, and just as I started to worry, I felt
the caress of leather against my belly, many thin strips of
I knew that sensation: He had the cat out. I gasped, both in
pleasure at the soft, smooth, almost ticklish feel of the
cat rubbed against my skin, and in anticipation of its use.

Of course, He did not disappoint. Momentarily, I felt Him
pull back His arm, and felt the familiar sharp sting against
my left breast.  Knowing His passion for symmetry, I knew
exactly where the next blow would fall.

The blows were light, I knew he was warming me up. Unlike
the crop, the pain from the cat is sharp and quick; one
bite, and then it’s gone. The skin under the blow got very
hot, though. He continued to whip my breasts, for a few more
blows, each of them harder than the previous one, and then
He caressed the red, hot, sore skin. The pain of the blows
was delicious, so here, now, all I could think about, I was
seeing red behind my eyelids. But even better was the way
His hands cooled the hot skin, then, drawing the pain out.

And then He returned to whipping. My breasts, my thighs,
my legs, but always careful to avoid my face, my neck, my
groin. Soon the whole front of my body felt like it was on
fire. I was no longer thinking about what had happened, or
what was going to happen. All I could think about was the
sharp touch of the whip, alternated with the cool relief of
His hands. My awareness of the world started to fade, and I
was seeing flashes of light behind the blindfold. The
burning on my skin amplified the burning between my legs.
But the pain was also growing…and just when I thought I
couldn’t take it any more, He stopped.

During the pause, as the pain faded, I noticed the
coolness of sweat evaporating off my face, in sharp contrast
to the heat elsewhere. My breath was coming in ragged gasps.
No longer was I worried about what he would do, whether He
was pleased with me (I knew He was!), or anything else in
the whole world. I am filled with desire and heat and fading

After what felt like an eternity (but was probably only a
few minutes) He caressed my breasts again, and teased my
nipples with his tongue. Then He sucked hard on one, making
the nipple stand out straight, and then He put the C-clamp
on it, tightening just to the point where the pain starts.
He did the same to the other, and then hugged me closely,
pressing the clamps into me, and stretching the nipples. “Do
you like what I am doing?” He asks. All I can do is gasp
“Yes.” “Good,” He says, “because I am going to continue.”
This promise sends a new wave of arousal through me, and I
moan and shiver. Although I can’t see it, I am sure he is

He turned me around, so my back was facing him. He
caressed my whole back with the smooth, cool leather of the
cat. Then, suddenly, He struck again. As with the front, He
started slowly, continually building, and often stopping to
caress the skin under the blows. The whipping settled into a
kind of rhythm, with a slowly but steadily increasing tempo.
I moaned, and swayed with the tempo, putting most of my
weight on the cuffs on my wrists.

He saw that I was becoming incredibly excited, so he
reached to the front, and tightened the nipples clamps.
Somehow though, it didn’t increase my pain, only sensation
and pleasure. In fact, as He continued to whip me, I notice
the pain became instead just a throbbing heat, and short
sharp sensations. I felt giddy and dizzy, fading in and out
of awareness. He reached around me and between my legs,
braced his palm against my clit and slipped a finger inside
me. With the other hand, he continued to whip my back, and
with this additional stimulation it took me only moments to
come — I moaned, and twisted, pushed my clit to his hand,
yelled and gasped, resting just about all my weight from the
bar overhead.

Suddenly there was no pain at all; only heat and throbbing
and light and wetness. Every touch of the whip sent me
further into ecstasy, and I arched my back, stretching my
breasts in an effort to increase the pressure in the clamps.
The world ceased to exist — there was only me and Him and
the whip, and the hot pleasure in my nipples, back and

When it was over, I hung there, gasping, and He quickly
removed the clamps, which rapidly return to pain as I regain
awareness of reality. He slipped off the blindfold,
unclipped the cuffs from the bar at my feet, and then lifted
down the upper bar and unclipped that too. Then He gently
led me to the bed, and gratefully I lay down, basking in the
relaxation, feeling my skin, still hot and tender, on the
cool sheets.

Then, still quivering from the orgasm, I remembered the
required count:
“One sir, may I have another?” I asked, praying his answer
would be “yes”. “You may,” he said quietly, “You will.” And
then, as He gently rubbed my breasts and belly, I felt the
desire ignite again, and I looked up at Him, and He


(c) 1996

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