The Scene Part 1

He grunted as the riding crop came down on his back for the 40^th time? 70^th time? 100^th time?  His head lagged to the side as he was feeling exhausted from the relentless firm strokes.

His ankles and wrists were in bondage on the St Andrew’s cross.  The leather cuffs held him firmly but comfortably in place.  There was no getting away.  The ball gag was muffling his grunts and moans.  He was fully restrained and feeling every stroke of the crop.  He was hot, and perspiring even though it was a pleasant cool evening.

The crop strokes ceased without warning.  He started.  And, waited for Her to speak.

There was silence.

The music in the background was turned off.

There was quiet movement but otherwise no other sounds.  He lifted his head and turned to see where She was.

He saw her with his peripheral vision, unmoving.  He became nervous because there was no engaging from Her.

At least 15 minutes ticked by… slowly.  Then he heard movement, swoosh, then felt instant, awful, mind numbing pain.  She had kicked him in the balls, from the back.  He screamed into the gag.  His body immediately went limp and if he had not been held in bondage he would have fallen to the floor, in a dead heap.  The pain was immense.  He could not believe She kicked him in his balls.  The Woman was crazy?  This activity was not discussed, and he had not consented to this form of extreme ‘play’.  Well, sure, he signed a contract permitting Her to do whatever she wanted with the exception of knife play, and the usual hard limits that most kinksters were uninterested in participating.

As he is trying to recall the contract he signed, he felt a sharper pain.  His balls were sensitive and stinging, and She kicked him again… harder this time, with the flat of her PVC ankle boots.

He hollered into the gag, and the saliva dribbled from his mouth making his chin and chest sopping wet.  And, not in a good way.

He let the pain engulf him fully until it eventually subsided.  His mind was foggy but it was starting to clear.  

There was silence again.  He trembled.  He wondered what She had in store for him next.  Before he could finish that thought, his whole body was drenched in ice cold water… freezing water She had thrown over him.  His body actually reacted violently with such coldness enveloping his heated body.  He heard Her chuckle.

He knew She was watching.  He felt Her presence.  She remained quiet after that initial chuckle.

10 minutes had passed.  Then he heard her rummaging around in her Impact Case.

He was nervous.  What was to follow next…

His skin felt the sting of her rubber flogger.  She was relentless in her application of the steady strokes.  Wet skin, rubber flogger, firm control.  She beat him for a constant 30 minutes.  He felt himself floating after ten minutes, and felt no more pain.  Just warmth.  

The flogging eventually ceased.  He was relieved.  He finally caught his breath and leaned his face against the Cross embracing the coolness of the wood.

He heard rustling somewhere in the dungeon.

Oh no… he felt goosebumps on his arms.

Then he felt needle-like pricks on his back.  He was unsure what the instrument was she was using.  She whispered in his ear… meet my friend, the 7-wheeled Wartenberg Wheel.  

She applied the wheel all over his red, tender back and if it wasn’t for the restraints he would have run away, perhaps scampered away would be a better description.  The needle-like pricks of the wheel were unpleasant.  He felt blood trickling down his back.  He accepted the intensity of the scene, and floated away for a while.  His body slumped against the Cross and he endured the gift She was imparting upon him.  20 minutes went by and the wheel action stopped.

Relief?

Not so.  

An application of a creamy substance was applied to his back.  Why was she wearing gloves? He thought what a generous Woman to care for him in such a nurturing manner.  Something to soothe all the soreness away.  

Then he felt the slow embrace of a cold-hot sensation generating from the cream applied, and started to squirm frantically.  Actually, he was feeling panic.

Icy Hot.

He heard Her sit down in her Throne.

The sensation of the Icy Hot was such an awful sensation coupled with the product entering into the pinprick wounds on his back.  He couldn’t believe what he had got himself into.  He thought the planned scene was purely impact – nothing else.  Damn that contract he signed…

And, he was still in bondage on the Cross… no escape.  What was next?  Nipple clamps...?

She

She is behind him. Above him.

He can feel her hands on his lower back. They are warm, but he shivers anyway.

He tries to contain his movement. He wants so badly to please her.

There are clamps on the fleshy bit where his scrotum meets his body. They hurt. They are relentless. No matter how hard he tries to ignore the pain, it is always waiting in the wings for him to lower his guard.

That's why he likes the hand. The hand feels so good.

He's tired. She's been doing this for a long time. His arms and knees ache. He trembles a little from his growing exhaustion. The clamps hurt so much.

That's why he likes her hand. The soft, commanding touch that turns his mind away from his hardships. His thoughts lean into that touch as the hand traces down his back. His nerves, drink up the sensation. It fills his mind, even though he knows that's a bad idea. He knows he should resist, because as soon as she can feel his senses open completely...

Crack! She spanks him. It's a hard blow, one that no doubt purples his already reddened skin. And the second that pain leaves, the clamps are in his mind, mocking him, breaking him. He doesn't feel the strength to fight them much longer.

He wants so badly to please her. He loves her so much.

He begins to whimper from the pain.

She coos to him and resumes stroking his bottom. He must have taken thirty such blows by now, and his ass must have been marked, even with only her bare hand. She hits very hard.

He can't see any of this. He is always to look straight ahead. He learned that the hard way. The marks he received in the process weren't made with her hand, and took two weeks to fully disappear. On his hands and knees, he looks ahead unless she says otherwise. "I'm giving you the gift of my touch," she said when teaching him, "you should be happy with that alone." She struck him with a cane between each every word.

So he can't see her now. He can't see her eyes. He can't see her face. He uses her eyes like a lighthouse to guide him through a perilous darkness. Her look of pleasure is his magnetic north.

The pain from the clamps is winning. He feels like he’s going to cry. Worse, they have been on for a very long time. He knows that they long ago starved the relevant nerves of blood, numbing them out. He knows when the clamps come off, and the nerves wake up, that the pain he feels then will be far worse. The idea conjures such real terror, that he bites his tongue to hold in his safeword.

He crams his mind into the inch of his flesh under her fingertip.

One hand becomes two. One on his lower back, and one gently brushing the head of his cock.

The hands feel good, so good.

He wants so badly to please her.

And then the hand on his back is gone, and he feels the rush of air as she makes her backswing.

He flinches, trembling with fear.

But the blow never comes.

And then her face comes into view. She is smiling. His heart swells.

"How are we doing, little boy?"

He whimpers, just managing to hold back an open cry. "It hurts Mistress."

"You're doing very well, you're making me so proud, so happy..." She places a finger under his chin, lifting him to his knees. As his hands come free, she catches one and feeds it into her panties. He can feel the dampness within. His cock twitches as she finishes her thought "... So wet."

He takes a deep sharp breath as his lust fills him.

"So, can we keep going?"

He wants very badly to stop. He feels so weak. He hurts, and he wants to stop hurting. But she's smiling. He loves her smile.

"Yes, Mistress, if it pleases you."

Her smile, her eyes, they turn sinister, covetous, malevolent. She whispers in his ear, her hand sliding under his belly to touch his cock. "Good, because I don't want to stop until there's nothing left of you."

Without warning, she yanks off the clamps.

The agony is like a bomb going off in his head. He seizes up, going tense, and then as limp as a rag doll. He collapses to the floor. He shudders in pain, and tears begin to roll down his face.

"I love you, Mistress,” comes his plea for mercy.

She merely smiles, stroking him as his spasms subside.

"There there, little boy. Catch your breath so we can start again."

She looks down at the broken boy below her, searching out the next tender spot for her clamps.

The Pleasure – the slave

The slave whispered “to give YOU my submission, Mistress”.

The slave had been searching for a power exchange relationship for a very long time but had failed so he sought out vanilla women who were strong-willed.  He would have his kinky sex with them but was not satisfied for too long.  He continued his search knowing someone was out there to satiate his yearnings.

He came across the Mistress on a site.  He watched her, observed her interactions and proceeded to make contact.

The slave was fair haired, fair complexioned, and muscular.  He was a quiet soul but was opinionated when required.

The Mistress and the slave negotiated a scene… an extreme scene which would last all day.  Safe words, signals, activities were discussed at length during the negotiations and both parties understood what was being sought.

His arms and hands were beautifully sculpted, his thighs were strong and lean.  The slave’s nipples were always protruding and just yearning to touched in many ways.

Part of the negotiation discussions included various types of activities the slave would like to experience.  They were degradation and humiliation play, strap on fucking, restraint and blood play. 

The slave’s cock was average size, firm and very pretty.  The Mistress looked forward to torturing it later in the day.

His arse was nicely shaped but needed to firm up a little more.  Some arse exercises would be placed on his training program.  She looked forward to fucking that sweet piece in time.  She had a feeling he was one slutty bitch who yearned her cock.

The Mistress’ primary interest for this slave was to enslave him totally.  However, this plan would take time as she perceived a stubbornness in his face and knew it would take a long while for him to give his full submission.  She was in no rush… she had a few years to truly enslave him.

His body was V-shaped.  Stunning.  A prime specimen of a male.  He kept himself fit and well, and was single-minded in whatever he put his mind to.  She liked this type of male but he was a rare specimen, and not many males like him crossed her path often.  He was going to be a challenge but she was patient. 

The slave was chained to the brick wall and was very aware of Mistress’ presence and his heart  pounded so fast. The precum he was creating was dripping, almost too much to bear, but he remained as calm as possible because it was going to be long day for him, and the Mistress.  He needed the energy to endure for this magnificent Woman.  The rising excitement was almost too much tolerate.

His mouth and lips were deep pink and generous, and the scent he exuded was earthy masculine.  His eyes were, at varying times, either a cold or warm blue depending on what was going on within him.  At the moment, they were soft and warm. 

The Mistress leant forward and placed her hand under his chin, and lifted his face to hers, she smelt of Chanel No. 19 and musk.  A delectable combination.  She spoke quietly “slave, are you ready for your journey?”.  “Yes, Mistress Neta”.

The Pleasure - The Mistress

A visual of the Mistress.  She is 5’6”, solid figure but strongly feminine, in the way she holds herself and the energy that envelops her.  She is confident but demure.  She is not afraid to speak when required.  In fact she tends to hold back often as she can hurt others’ feelings with her acerbic tongue and so prefers not to take the route unless its warranted.

She is an ebony-skinned Woman.  She has chocolate brown skin with blemishes, scars and stretch marks on parts of her body which are indicators that her journey in this Life has been tough.  She is proud of her appearance, and this manifests itself in the way she walks, talks and interacts with others.  She has reached her 50s now and still she attracts males of all ages.  At times, she is surprised at the numerous males who gravitate towards her for all sorts of reasons.  Her colour, her appearance, her confidence, her body, her breasts, her legs, her energy, her age, her persona, her sexiness, her dominance, her maternal side, to fuck her. 

She has curly black hair, shoulder length, which is now flecked with grey, giving her an elegance that is natural.  She wears it mostly in a bun or pony tail. 

The Mistress entered the BDSM world 7 years ago.  And took to it like a ‘duck to water’ or a ‘guinea pig to grass’..  She was in high demand and did consider becoming a Pro Domme but decided it was not her way… she preferred to enjoy males for her pleasure NOT so much for theirs.  It took her a while to find her feet in this complex, layered world of Kink.  She travelled interstate to meet other Kinksters and connect with submissives and slaves.  It was an interesting time although not as satisfying as she initially thought.  Many of the males were too tame for her.

The Mistress had strong features, beautiful kind brown eyes and the most beautiful smile with gorgeous white teeth.  Her laughter was infectious and loud.  Her voice was audible and distinctive due to her accent and audibility.  People recognised her voice…everywhere.

She was older now and her energy was focussed on many activities in her life but she would always have time to fulfil her kinks.

Besides her loyal submissive, she liked to taste other boys at times.  She liked handsome males… yes, she was superficial when it came to males she wanted to hurt.  Looks were important to her coupled with a sense of humour and a degree of high intelligence.  If males did not engage her properly, she would dismiss them.  It was rare for males to truly engage her and this would only occur if they studied her profile and interactions around groups and discussions.  If males approached and were only interested in a spank and then sex… she dismissed them.  The Mistress chose who she wanted to fuck, and was very selective about who she would allow to touch her.  Many males had tried; most failed.

The Mistress loathed arrogance, and cock-sure males although she was fine with a little cheekiness.

This Mistress had a body that would have been described as a “brick house” back in the day.  She was evenly proportioned, even as she aged and her body expanded, she still remained the 'hourglass' shape.  Her breasts were generous sized although not as perky any more, her waist had expanded but was still curvaceous, her arse was medium-sized and firm.  She looked striking for a Woman in her fifties!

Her lips were full and luscious, her eyes glinted often with amusement, with nurturing, with fire, and with love.  They are expressive eyes and usually inform the observer of how she is feeling at that moment… if she allows them to see her inner feelings.

Today, she was wearing a red and white floral dress.  The top part of it was tight fitting and clung to her breasts, waist and stomach like a stocking, and from the waist down the skirt part, flaired.  Very womanly, very feminine, very sexy.  She wore 6 inch black, silver studded heels with painted burgundy toenail polish.  A very effective and powerful vision for the slave who was chained to the wall.  A spectacular vision.

Her hair was worn out, black, curly wild afro.  The Mistress wears glasses.  She hardly wore make up, occasionally mascara and dark eyeshadow.  Today, only mascara, and blood red lipstick. 

As she towered above her slave, and he looked up at her, he noted she had her leather handcuff bracelet on her right wrist as she always did in every scene she conducted, or event she attended.  She was also grasping her red riding crop and had her favourite delcrin cane was leaning against her throne.  A vision, and a powerful presence emanating from her being.  She smiled as she spoke softly but firmly to the slave, “whore, why are you here?”...

The Pleasure

His face was red and shiny, sweat pouring profusely down his face, hair darkened by the excessive sweat.

Mistress stared down at him chained against the brick wall.  Seven clothes peg zippers were attached to various parts of his body including his cock and balls, and it was obvious his body was consumed with pain.  He was sweating because of the pain piercing areas of his skin.  He continued to sweat and endure…no safeword from him was emitted. 

Mistress smiled at his endurance, his strength, his stoic-ness.

20 minutes had passed… minimal time.  Another 10 minutes, and she would remove the clothes peg zippers.

Mistress leant forward to slave’s face and spat on it.  Saliva splattered over his face.  Mistress was most amused watching her spit trickling down his face.  She then proceeded to give him a healthy face slapping – 10 in a row, 5 slaps either side.  Tears rolled from his eyes but he remained quiet even though his lips quivered.

His excitement was evident to Mistress.  The slave’s cock was dribbling precum.  Such a sexy masochistic slut.

Mistress moved towards the slave and he flinched as he was uncertain what would happen next.  He had negotiated and consented to this scene wanting to experience a variety of pain, and Mistress accepted the responsibility to give him what he craved.

10 minutes had passed, and Mistress decided to remove one of the zippers from his arms.  She grasped the lace and rippppppppppped it from his left arm.  He whimpered in pain, his arm shook…his cock continued to dribble.  Mistress laughed quietly.  "OK, slave I am going to remove the zipper from you cock… are you ready?"  A soft groan emerged from him, and without hesitation, Mistress grabbed the string and pulled it off.  Specks of blood appeared on his shaft, and Mistress wiped the blood with her finger and then stuck the finger into mouth for him to suck it clean.  He murmured “thank you, Mistress”.  He was grateful for her generosity.  While he was thinking how much his cock hurt, Mistress pulled the zipper off his left arm.  He yelped.  slave then screamed when Mistress took hold of his sweet protruding nipples and twisted them savagely.  He tried to move away but was chained to the wall and there was no way to escape…unless he called his safeword.  Slave was whimpering… and while he was so caught up in the throbbing tenderness of his nipples after the vicious manipulation of his nipples, Mistress removed both clothes peg zippers from his thighs simultaneously.  He screamed, and his head slumped forward.  His body felt hot, tingley and relieved.  He waited for the pain to pass...it took a while.

Mistress sat back in her throne and waited for the all consuming pain sensations the slave was feeling to subside.  She watched closely.  She smiled.  She was excited.  He had two more zippers to be removed starting from under his nipples down to his waistline.  Mistress stood up, and slave froze.  She slowly walked towards him and caressed his collar bone, kissed his forehead, took a step back and closed her forefinger and thumb around the lace.  She slowly pulled down on the left-side zipper…pop pop pop…slowly.  Slave writhed in pain.  Mistress continued the removal as she grasped his hair in her other hand and pulled.  She loved the power, and he loved feeling the helplessness.  She took hold of the right hand zipper, the last one, and again, slowly pulled it away from his flesh.  He yelped, whimpered, and dripped copious amounts of precum.

45 minutes had passed.  Slave looked exhausted.  Mistress smiled. 

Mistress sipped her drink, and said to slave, I have a treat for you.  He looked up at her, his eyes slightly glazed and said “thank you, Mistress”.  Mistress showed him a glass of her Nectar with the bitter taste and smell of asparagus  "Drink, slave".  Mistress put the glass to his lips and poured the drink into his mouth.  He drank what was offered, and only spilt a little but continued to consume his Mistress’ Nectar until every last drop was gone.  Mistress put down the glass, returned to slave and slapped his face 10 times for wasting her Nectar.  She was unimpressed.  He should have been honoured to consume her Golden Nectar and not spilt a drop.  Not good enough in her opinion. 

Mistress decided before he was to be unchained, she would place a hood over his head… and flog him with her very special rubber flogger.  Mistress proceeded to flog his thighs for ten minutes… relentlessly - soft, hard, fast, slow.  He writhed to escape the flog strokes but could not avoid the sadistic implement.  Once the flogging had ceased, Mistress removed slave’s hood, scratched his cheeks with her long manicured nails before leaning forward and kissing his lips.  Mistress used her booted right foot to press against slave’s cock and balls and exerted pressure until he whimpered.  What do you say slave?  He replied “thank you, Mistress Neta for your kindness, you have a generous spirit”.

Slave was unchained, and left to tidy himself up for the next part of their time together…

Heavenly...?

One night while sleeping alone in my bed, dreaming of all things latex and kinky stuff....I awake to realise I was not alone in the room. It was still very dark, but there was a sweet aroma in the room. It was a mixture of sweet perfume and my favourite smell of....latex. It couldn't be my secret stash of rubber, as that was locked away in trunk so nobody could ever find it. So, I knew there must be something else in that room.

There was a blinding flash and instant pain....the next thing I knew was that I still had my eyes closed and I was in an upright position with my arms stretched out above my head. I also could feel a cool breeze on my whole body, I must be naked to the open air. I slowly opened my eyes, to find the room was still dark, but enough light was in the room from flickering candles on the walls. Bare stone walls.....and bare stone floor and ceiling....where the hell was I?

I looked above to find my hands were outstretched in old fashioned cuffs attached to chains to the ceiling.

My feet were also in cuffs attached to the floor and spread apart too....and yep, I was naked except for....a metal device that seemed to be locked around my cock and balls. Who the hell has done this to me?

It was then I started to hear the click click of someone walking towards me from behind....again came that sweet smell of perfume and latex....my cock strained in its new device.

'Are we comfortable?' the sultry voiced purred at me.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, this female behind me shoved a big cock-shaped gag deep into my mouth before I could utter a sound and quickly strapped and locked it around my head. Then she blindfolded me too....'too early for your eyes to be allowed to see my beauty and your future', she said. It was at this point that my mind was racing quicker than my heart beat.

She started to walk all around me....caressing my naked flesh.....then stroked the cage around my cock, 'you better get used to your new friend as your cock is now MY cock, you have no use for it anymore'...then she stroked the crack in my ass. I tensed up, so she gave me a hell of a smack across my cheeks making me shout out into my gag.

'You'd better not tense up, as you won't like what is going to happen next if you tense up', she softly hissed at me.

With that I felt a cool liquid being poured down my ass and between my cheeks.

What the hell is happening to me, I didn't have a choice as I couldn't move, couldn't see and couldn't complain or scream.

She started to rub her latex covered hands and fingers up and down the crack of my well lubed ass....I tried as much as I could to relax. She started to probe my hole with here finger....it felt sooo good. I wanted more....she did not disappoint. Then came two fingers, then three....stretching my hole.....felt heavenly, but I've never had more than three fingers up there before....so I was already at my limit, feeling full, but strangely with no pain or discomfort this time. What lube had she used? This was starting to worry me, was I dreaming all this...was I still asleep in my bed?

Nope....as she smacked my ass with her other hand to remind me that she and I was most definitely here, wherever we were. 'MMMMMMMMMMPPPPPHHHH', was all I could scream.

Then I felt her starting inwards with all four fingers gently in and out....this was incredible.

'Are you ready for my whole hand?' she asked.....as if I had a choice....at this point I realised I was shaking and sweating buckets....never ever thought I would ever get fisted.

'Here we go now', she purred.....as she slowly took four fingers out, then tucked her thumb inside her hand...she slowly inserted all her fingers....I felt so tight, but still no pain.....the pressure was so intense, I thought she was about to rip me apart when....my ass seemed to suck her whole hand in. The feeling was...................

*A story I came across somewhere in the past.  Very appealing to me.  Thank you, Batman.

"Baby slave"

My baby slave arrived home at 4.30pm.  He is a punctual male.  We live in a quietish

neighbourhood with beautiful water views and surrounding bush.  I was waiting for him on my throne.  He immediately came to where I was seated, kneeled at my feet and kissed my extended right hand.  He waited for the next instruction.  Baby slave  I require a glass of red wine, and some cheese and fruit… before he moved off, I requested he remove his clothing.  I looked into his eyes as he removed each item of clothing.  He has such a beautiful body but my eyes were on his blue eyes – enjoying his flushness.  Once he was standing naked in front of me, I looked him up and down.  My eyes rested on his magnificent cock which was hard, as per usual, when he was in my presence.  I then waved my hand and reminded him to go get my refreshments.  Off the sexy creature loped.

My baby slave returned with my refreshments.  Knelt, held my glass of wine and platter for me.  As I enjoyed the image of my beautiful bitch, I had small talk about my day.  All very ordinary in this extraordinary life of ours.

Then, I said baby slave you missed your midday text to me by 10 minutes.  You were immediately apologetic and proceeded to make excuses for being late in texting me.  Punctuality is important to me.  You appeared nervous all of a sudden.  I smiled, and looked away.  I turned towards you again, and said, baby slave – over on the table there is my delcrin cane – bring it to me.  You turned, stood up and slowly went to collect it for me.  You attempted to apologise again but when you saw the look in my eyes – you knew, there was no use giving an explanation, you were going to be punished.

I stood up, you knelt down.  I stated – on your hands and knees, bitch, this is going to hurt you more than me.  You went into the position.  Your face was sad, and flushed.  Sad that you had disappointed your Mistress, flushed because… well, you were being caned and it was something you were starting to secretly enjoy… although not so much secretly any more since your Mistress is quite perceptive.  You were about to receive 10 canes on your bitch arse.  After each whack, you were to count, then say thank you Mistress .  1, 2, 3 etc.

After the 10^th whack, you had tears in your eyes, and the pain you felt was awful yet cathartic.

You heard my voice through the fog of pain, turned to me, and the cane was still in my hand.  I said kiss the cane that loves your skin.  You did.  Now take it back to the back to the table and come kneel in front of me again.  You did.

Now baby slave  what lesson have you learnt from this punishment?  You responded.  I must be punctual in my texts, Mistress .  You are such a kind Woman to remind me about improving my service to you.

I smiled.  You were relieved that I had accepted your response.  Your arse was hurting, burning, a little numb… but you were happy.  Happy knowing you were loved by this beautiful majestic Woman, who was quiet in her dominance and only showed it when it was necessary.  I love Mistress  with my whole body and soul.

I beckoned you to me, and you came into my arms.  I kissed your eyes, your nose, your forehead, your lips…and whispered, how special you are.  Then I said, now, baby slave, what are you going to cook me for dinner?

I smile, then whack you on the arse with my bare hand.

***

Slave, I’m in the mood to be a little sadistic.  Let’s go down to our ‘dungeon’ so I can hurt you.  You immediately responded “yes, Mistress”.  Already naked, I observed your/my cock start to become erect – I thought, he is such a slut.

Now slave, go to that wall, I’m going to shackle you – wrists and ankles.  Spreadeagled, naked, delicious, I approached you.  Baby slave, I have decided not to blindfold you this evening, I want you to see how turned on I get when I hurt you.  My eyes glint, I snarl, and my cunt drips with the excitement of beating you.

So, which implement should I use… all the while I am preparing, you are looking at your awesome Mistress .  She is wearing a black bra, black suspender bel 6 straps, fishnet stockings, 6 inch stilettos, hair wild, bright pink lipstick, dark eye-makeup, and dripping feminine sexuality.  You  are pulled out of your reverie, when you feel the first whack of her heart shaped crop.  Are you paying attention, bitch?  Yes, Mistress.  OK sweet bitch, I am going to leave heart shapes all over your body – this is going to hurt, sweetie.  You endured 15 minutes of cropping all over the front of your body, even your cock and balls received attention.  Your head was hanging down by that stage, you were whimpering in pain – all the while, your Mistress was teasing you about how much of a wimp you were.  She taunted you about what your work mates would say if they saw you being dominated by a Woman and the teasing that would be directed towards you.  Your Mistress was very amused by the thought of them seeing you helpless and trapped… and conversationally throughout the cropping, taunted you on what a little bitch you were.

Next, the clover clamps were attached.  Clothes pegs were attached to your balls and you were non-stop groaning by now.  Perspiration was dripping down your body, and Mistress just slapped your face for being pathetic. 

Next, the leather flogger came out.  I flogged you for 30 minutes all over the front of your body.  The redness was delicious. You were marked on all parts of your white skin.  The clover clamps had been removed earlier and your nipples were sensitive which I continued to ‘accidentally’ flog just to hear you scream. 

I placed my finger to the opening of my Cunt which was wet, brought the finger to your nose to let you smell how excited you made me.  Then made you lick my finger clean.

You had been shackled for 45 minutes.  I decided to go get myself a drink of water.  I came back 15 minutes later and you were quiet, head lolling, but your arms and legs were trembling.  I said baby slave  – do you want to cool down with some water.  You replied, yes please Mistress.  I threw a glass of ice water all over you, and laughed.  You screamed from the coldness and cruelness of your Mistress.  Tears sprang to your eyes but your Mistress ignored you as she went to select another impact implement.

Before the birch was applied to the fleshy parts of your body, the pegs were removed from your balls.  You screamed from the excruciating pain of their removal.  The blood rushing back.  I chuckled.

The birching started.  I could see you weren’t too keen on the feeling of these branches and you whispered “orange”.  I stopped.  What, bitch, do you want me to stop?  You looked at me, and saw my eyes glowing.  No, Mistress, please continue.  I recontinued the birching but slowed the pace slightly so my bitch could get used to the different sensation.  He was so beautiful in his pain.  After 15 minutes, the birching stopped.

I walked up to him and kissed him on the lips.  Ok baby slave, I am going to let you down now.  Ankles were unshackled first.  Then wrists.  Now baby slave, you may be in pain but its time for you to satisfy your Mistress.  You nodded, and murmured, yes Mistress.  Come and make love to me on the floor… lie down.  You did.  I lowered myself down onto you, hurting parts of you that had endured the cropping, flogging and birching.  I leaned forward to kiss you and your/my cock became erect very quickly.  I rubbed my scent all over your/my cock before I engulfed it with my beautiful scented Cunt.  Your arms immediately came up around my waist and pulled me down on to you further… we both gasped

My blogs

Hi All
These are my blogs for your wicked viewing.  Actually they are quite tame, nothing too insane going on in them  :)


http://msnetaerotica.blogspot.com.au/ 

http://msneta.blogspot.com.au/

http://mznetadomain.blogspot.com.au/

http://mistressnetadomain.blogspot.com.au/

http://clubfemtasmania.blogspot.com.au/

Back to normal

Hi Everyone
It appears Blogger, due to thousands of users protesting against the censoring policy for bloggers, is no longer going to take any action.

THANK FUCKEN GODDESS FOR THAT!!

So, people I will continue to blog my usual stuff when time permits!


Ms Neta

Blog going PRIVATE... soon

Good evening

It appears that effective 23 March 2015, any sexual content in my blog will be censored by BLOGGER.

The alternative is to remove the sexually explicit content or change my blogs to private setting. 

I have decided to turn my blogs to PRIVATE SETTING in a week’s time.

If you wish to continue to follow my blogs, comment on this post leaving your email addy and I will add you into the private settings, otherwise, I bid you all farewell.  And, thanks for following.

Ms / Mz / Mistress Neta

~ With Dark Romance in Mind… always ~

Just ask, and you shall receive...

He was withdrawn when he arrived home from his long day at work.  I watched his sluggish movements around the house. 

Then it occurred to me he needed some healing treatment.

"slave, do you need a spanking?"

He looked at me, and shrugged his shoulders, and looked down.

"slave, do you need a spanking?"

The immediate flush of face told me he needed to be spanked.

I sat down on the leather chesterfield, and patted my lap.

He moved towards me slowly, almost shyly, and sat down on my knee.

“Now, slave, what have I said to you in our many conversations?” I said gruffly.

With his eyes downcast, he spoke quietly and said, “that if I need a spanking to ask you”.

“yes, slave that is correct”

I knew what he needed… he did not withdraw often but when he did it was time for some treatment, some catharsis.  He needed me to hurt him more sadistically than I normally would.  He need to feel pain administered by his Mistress.  He very much needed to feel pain to be cleansed, to be free from the darkness within him.

“slave, choose what you require? I snarled”  he chose to be bare-arsed, and shivered in anticipation.  “Remove your clothing, slut” I stated sternly.  He quickly undressed and his body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“slave, go get my favourite strap now, place it in your mouth and crawl back to me, I roared”.  He returned within minutes crawling towards me.  I felt his anguish, and his need.

“come here, slave, and lay on my lap”.  He stood up and positioned his strong naked body over my lap.  I stroked his head, and whispered, “you will feel so much better after your cleansing, my slave”.  He murmured something.

I contemplate on the week, it has been difficult for him, stress at work, family problems, car needs repair, house going on the market... my mood softens, my heart opens to him "he needs this" I promptly remind myself softly rubbing his arse, I know the feeling myself... he needs the release.

I bring the strap down on his arse severely.  He gasps and jerks in my lap from the severity.

I feel him relax, he is used to my hand. I regularly slap his arse, even in public.  Again, "WHACK" that time harder... he squirms but remains in place. I know his body language, and he wants more.

Whack, Whack, on each cheek, and he jerks again, groans gutturally, but stays positioned waiting for more.  I realize I cannot give him the cleaning he needs, and that I now want to give him so I direct him to stand up and lean over the couch.  I decided to chain him to the 4 anchor points around the couch.  “go get the chains, slave”.  He almost skipped in anticipation of what he knew was going to be a harsh cleansing, bordering on cruel by his Mistress but he knew he needed this.

He returned.  His cuffs were placed around his wrists and ankles, and then the chains were attached while he was bent over the couch, spread-eagled. 

I whispered “slave, are you ready?”  “yes, Mistress”.

Whack, Whack, Whack across both cheeks with the leather strap.  He struggled but could not break free even if he tried.  He was chained securely.  “do you love me, slave?”  “yes, Mistress”.

The whacks hurt, when I bring the strap down, he winces, eyes shut tight, a high pitched yelp muffled by his compressed lips. He sways his hips, silently asking for another. I hesitate for a moment and give him what he asks for, "WHACK"...

His head tips back, feet moving a bit, that one hurt, but I can tell from his breathing that it hurts deliciously. I gave him a minute to recover, and caress softly, stroking in contrast to the strap, his breathing... shallow like he is approaching orgasm... I slide a finger along his cock and feel the wetness leaking on the couch and down his shaft and balls. I caress his length and he sighs.

I move my hand away, and bring down the strap.  He grunted in pain.  Whack", a guttural moan escapes his lips, and then he says "again" under his breath, "Whack" he howls in ecstasy.  I swing the strap, it whistles in the air, he flinches, just before it meets his flesh. He yelps.  It was a pleasure to hear his pain.

He has had too much, I know that if we continue he will want more and more... the endorphins have blocked all pain. His body would bleed before she asked me to stop.

I pushed my hand between his legs and stroked his cock again.  The wetness was excessive.  The pain and pleasure was accepted yet he wanted more.  He begs “no, don’t stop the strap, Mistress”.  I press down on his body and he struggles, his body and mind wanting more.  I know it is time for him to stop, he needs to come down, he needs to rest but out of generosity I give him five more straps, extremely hard, and he cries.  His arse is bruised and battered.  He collapses fully onto the couch.  I remove his restraints, and I help him to the floor.  I wipe the sweat away covering his body.  His breathing his shallow, his cock his hard.  I kiss his lips, and hold him.  He is exhausted and needs to sleep but before I lead him to bed, I sit down onto his cock and let him feel the comfort of me, his Mistress.  He orgasms, I kiss him again, lead him to bed, wrap him in my arms, rocking slightly.  He continues to cry, and my heart breaks but I know he will feel much better in the morning.  His cleansing has been achieved, I smile inwardly “he is such a good boy”.  He whispers to me just before he drifts off to slumberland “thank you for understanding what I need, Mistress”.