Goddess of pain
» Sketches
I was resting in bed reading I don’t remember what. She came in, climbed over me and snatched it away.
“Hey lover, I was just thinking about you.” She seemed so alive she almost made the air crackle and spark. Her fingers followed the outline of my lips then bent and kissed them. As I so often did I fell back in love with her again.
Astride me she was looking at me smiling. I smiled back.
“I need my man right now.” I felt part of me rise and her reach back to hold it under my jeans.
“No I don’t need you that way.” Her hold tightened so I hardened. I looked at her more closely and it really was as if sparks came from her eyes. Then I caught the force of the air coming through her flared nostrils.
“Oh, I’ll deal with that in my own good time and in my own way.” Her grip was too tight but her words only made me harden. She laughed.
“I’m hungry.” Somehow I knew she didn’t want me to order pizza.
“To hell with that collar. I want to see you get up and give that body to me knowing that tonight I want to watch you beg, see the despair in your eyes while I take you where you’ve so often told me you wanted to go. You talk so much about pain, my love, let me see you live through it.”
There had been nights when she’d ask me to “scream prettily’ for her. Not many, nor for long. But she relished my surrender more than my suffering. I’d rarely seen her like this. Tonight she wanted the suffering. Already I’d surrendered. Trembling with a confusion of desire and fear, I didn’t feel as if I could move except by her command. My throat felt so dry and constricted I knew I couldn’t even speak unless bidden. All I could to was to obsequiously nod my assent.
My upper body was trapped in a harness, my ankles at each side of the open cage. Using a harness or sling was rare. It meant that before she was done I wouldn’t be up to supporting my own weight.
“It’ll take me at least two hours my loving little slave to do to you all that I plan, maybe longer. Ask me to do it.”
“Please.” I could barely get it out.
“Not a very eloquent plea my man who normally has so many words.”
She brought out a box of clothespins.
“Only the first round.” I felt thankful she’d learned to use them so carefully (if painfully), with luck I’d be able to wear sweater that week.
With the first few I groaned loudly. My groans softened. The 20th pin didn’t hurt less than the 10th. Already I was adjusting to the inevitable. Not that my acceptance would last.
“When I get your nipple clamps tight enough we’ll move elsewhere.”
Like an engineer she slowly tightened the clamps. Often pausing to watch me wince, listen to my dismal “ahs.”
“Say it again.”
I did, “Your slave thanks its Mistress for its pain.” And again her knee crashed into my groin.
She’d been below my navel for not that long but I hardly knew where the pains were coming from.
“Floorshow is over.” A blindfold went over my eyes. Lost in blackness I know longer had visual cues.
I heard her set a chair in front of me and took my cock into a hand. At first it was a gentle caress. My penis responded not to the warnings I was silently screaming at it but to her touch. She clenched her fist tightly and twist then yanked and twisted again. Having that part of me so roughly manipulated left me feeling even more powerless. The opening of her hand fooled me until she began punching it into her palm. When the punches became hard slaps I tried to move away and her nails dug in.
Then she moved to my scrotum. This time the yanking did hurt. She pinched and slowly pushed her nails in. When she squeezed I shuddered. The pressure wasn’t nearly as much as it could’ve been but nothing leaves a man feeling more impotent.
My back must’ve been coated with wax by now. Even though I knew she’d mastered dropping hot candle wax along my body being there trapped and feeling something very warm splash into my skin was fearful. She was scraping it off gently but my skin was so sensitized that made me quiver.
“Are you still there?” I nodded my head. If I hadn’t she might’ve stopped. I’d have liked to play dead. I was too deeply reduced, feeling myself nothing but an extension of her will.
“Maybe a little music will make it easier for you?” I knew the music would do anything but. It was as if all the devils in Hell were banging on drums. My ears started to ache..
Then I felt her boots hitting my buttocks. My body would shoot forward in response only to return for another kick.
The headphones came off.
“Do you hear me?”
“Thank you?” I wasn’t sure whom I was asking.
“I hold a whip in my hand. What should I do with it?”
Far away from my body lost in masochistic ecstasy and pain I was too foggy at first to know what to say. Then I did.
“Please, on me, please.”
The rawhide cut into me and I shuddered. I begged her to stop. She didn’t. Finally I drove so deeply into my trance that while my mouth begged my body felt things that sadly I’d wouldn’t be able remember the next day.
I felt her slapping my face. My eyes opened at I saw her looking at me like a sweet little girl, arctic queen all gone.
She let me down and then carried me to another room. I felt her rub antiseptics and creams into my skin. They did sting but I felt my muscles unkink.
Dreamily I looked up at her. Her smile made me so happy.
“Oh my dear man when you give you do give all. Sometimes I fear you love me too much.” I felt her fingers caress the back of my neck.
Tomorrow I might not be out of bed much. She’d be much at my side, making sure I was as comfortable as I could be, insuring that I ate. A kindly goddess replenishing me after the dark goddess took so much away.
