A blog from a woman on a journey of discovery.

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Sunday, 13 February 2011

Over his knee and making a wet patch

Across his knee, my toes barely touching the floor and his arm resting against my back, I felt his hand begin to stroke my arse, round and round in circles, one way and then the other, first one cheek and then the other. His finger sometimes tracing between my legs towards my cunt, I tired lifting my hips to meet it, but he just chuckled and pushed it down, with a clear understanding I was not to do it again.

The first strike came , completely unexpectedly. I normally know, normally sense when he has lifted his arm, ready to strike, but I think I was mesmerized by the rhythm of his stroking, by the memory of his cock in my mouth and the fear of not being able to breath. The loud "smack" made me jump and gasp.

It was as if it had happened to someone else...."Awake slave?"

Oh yes all of a sudden I was awake...very awake. My focus sharply brought back to where I was by one moment of time, one smack on the arse.

He played with me for what seemed like hours, gently caressing my ever reddening arse, stroking my legs, playing with my cunt that was by now actually dripping down his leg, making a wet patch on his jeans, and spanking me.

Some of the blows were hard, punch like blows that left me with deep seated throbbing, others, loud slaps that made me jump, others, glancing blows that stung like a bitch and made me try to escape, but he still continued, over and over and over again. I tried to persuade him that his hand must be sore, his arm must ache, but he laughed and told me off for assuming things.I cried, I beg, I pleaded...all to no avail. I wriggled and squirmed and was told if I didn't stay still he would tied the rope round my neck and pull it tight and tie it to his foot.
Finally when my arse was glowing red and there was no way I was ever going to complain of being cold again he allowed me to stand.

As I stood my legs were shaking, so he carefully sat me on the bed, got me a drink of water, and watched me drink it. I didn't want to drink it all, but he told me I had lost so much fluid from my cunt that I must. Oh I blushed at that one; he has such an ability to make me blush. He showed me the wet patch on his jeans and told me to lick it clean. Oh the humiliation  of having to lick my cunt juice from his clothes when all I could think about was my hot asre and and the overwhelming desire to have him touch me more, to let me cum.

When my drink was finished he told me to go to his suitcase as he had a present for me. at the very top of the bag was a plain simple black plastic bag, with no marking, no writing on it, I lifted it and he nodded. I removed the bag and came before him again, knelt in front of him, presenting it to him on my open hands. He told me I could open it. I knew what was in there..........it was a new rope to replace the one I had lost.
I was given a very stern lecture about what was expected of me with the rope, and then I realised that there was not one , but two ropes in there................clean white, soft ropes.

I took the ropes from the bag and placed them on his hands and waited.

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