We have two devices for hitting-me purposes. One is a flogger I bought in college. We don’t use this often because of how loud it is, and we are still getting used to not living in a dorm or apartment. The other is a studded paddle. Apparently we didn’t feel the need to take it too slow in the spanking realm, though it’s not like it’s a cane. I think that we both love the paddle. It fucking hurts, always so, so much more than I anticipate. But I love to have your attention no matter what, and I pray that you get more satisfaction out of spanking me than I do from taking it. I mentally note to ask you later.

I’m thinking about this because you’ve grabbed something new and that’s what I expect it to be. And it is. You rub the non-studded side over my ass slowly, and venture down my thighs, lifting the paddle so the corner is tracing squiggly lines back and forth on the way towards my knees. You bring it back up between my legs, pushing the edge of the paddle ever so slightly into me, and grazing the buttplug as you drag it upward.

It’s gone. I don’t feel any sensation at all for what feels like minutes, but is probably only one. You haven’t gotten off of the bed or reached for anything new.

The coldish metal of the paddle’s studs rest on my ass for a second, before you quickly lift it. I flinch instinctively anticipating a strike, but am only met with you laughing through an exhale and placing the cold spikes on my other cheek. You let it rest for a few seconds before snatching it off of me and coming back down. As always, it stings way more than I remember. I yell, though it’s muffled by the gag, and you hit me twice more in quick succession in the same exact spot.

In the moment you give me to recover I let out a sob-like groan into the gag and try to reach the spot with my cuffed hands. I can’t. You trace one finger over what I assume, what I hope, is the red marks left by the paddle. This moment of calm lets me notice how heated both my face and cunt are getting.

You move my hands higher up on the small of my back and smack the space I could reach with just your hand. Hard. This, I recognize, is one of the first times you’ve physically hurt me as retaliation for displeasing you. If I weren’t gagged, I’d beg for forgiveness.

I consider behaviors I could try in the future to push the boundaries of our very loosely drawn roles. Brat behavior, I think. I never liked the idea of misbehaving, but being punished for any hesitation to obey would be sort of…heavenly. Not because the pain turns me on, but because it would enhance my desire to obey you and be shaped to please you.

The studded paddle punctuates my thinking. No, this is not punishment. This is you using me for your own sexual amusement. You cycle between rapid strikes, heavy hits that you let linger, and fake outs that make me react nonetheless. “What a silly slut, so ready to be spanked that she’s reacting to nothing,” is what I hope you’re thinking. You seem to enjoy me not knowing if a strike is coming or not, judging by how many times I flinch without being hit. I love the mind game. Love handing my reactions over to you to toy with. It’s so wonderfully humiliating in the moment and makes me feel so small, but I feel fulfilled knowing you’re getting satisfaction from this.

I’m spiraling through this thought process when you insert one, no two? fingers into me. I arch my back out of habit and you speed up. You stop as quickly as you started and reach up toward my face. I can’t deny the slight disappointment I feel that you’re going to remove my gag already. But you don’t. You wipe your hand across my cheek, transferring my wetness onto my face. You get up and plug something in as my heart pounds. You push our wand vibrator against my clit and push my ass, still lifted slightly from before, down into the bed.

You hold the wand firmly against me as you turn it on a low setting. I’m so needy at this point that I’m slowly grinding as much as I can while restrained. All I can think about is how I hope this looks pretty for you, and not as ridiculous as it feels. With my ass plugged, I feel extra sensitive and even with the wand on low begin to feel the familiar pulsing in my core. You notice and pull the wand away for a moment, not in a malicious way, but you aren’t ready for me to climax yet.

You begin to finger me again as you replace the vibrator, going slow and deep. The vibrator gradually turns to a higher setting as you change angles and stroke the buttplug through my skin. I’ve tried to let my brain sink into the blissfulness at this point and while not 100% there, I have definitely lowered my inhibitions. I begin pushing myself into the wand and shaking, all while releasing powerful moans into the gag. As I get closer and begin to move faster, you push on the buttplug with your thumb, wiggling it ever so slightly. I come, harder than ever before, and longer than ever before. I usually psych myself out and don’t get to feel this sober. I try to delay the anxious thoughts of what a slutty, ridiculous, embarrassing mess I must look like but they creep in nonetheless. On the bright side, I can’t do anything about it. I can’t hide myself physically or try to explain. I just lay there in post-orgasm bliss with fleeting worries passing through my thoughts as you mount me in the same position.

You groan as you enter me and gently fall onto my back, thrusting fast. One hand wraps itself in my hair, careful to not move the blindfold, and you pull my head up so your mouth is closer to my ear “I. Love. Fucking you. After. You come for me” you say slightly above a whisper, in between thrusts. I moan against the gag, which turns into screams as you ram your body weight against the plug in my ass. You start to utter curses between breaths and pick up your pace. This hurts so fucking bad, but I know it can’t go on too much longer. That’s selfish thinking, I remind myself. I know the plug must feel like pleasant pressure against your cock, and that’s enough reason to bear it.

The ballgag is suddenly pulled from my mouth and you turn my chin toward you. You drive your lips into mine and I latch on, trying to suck on your tongue as you moan into my mouth. I feel your thrusts increase in intensity before slowing, and try my hardest to kegel and get every drop of you. You collapse on top of me and slowly pull out. My high is fading and I’m feeling the come-down hard as you uncuff my ankles and wrists.

Despite being freed, I stay in the same position trying to grasp onto the remaining bit of tension in the air. You gently grasp the buttplug and start to pull, eliciting one final soft moan from me as you remove it.

You carefully thread a towel under my hips before laying next to me. I push the blindfold off my eyes and rotate to face you, meeting your eyes. It feels like forever since I looked up at you from my kneeling position on the floor. “Thank you,” I say, so quietly that I consider repeating it in case you didn’t hear. I am so overwhelmed with emotions and chemicals. I lean in and kiss you for a few seconds, as I start to feel your cum leak out of me.