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...?
