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Peter2002 said:There is, as Etoile attests, a lot of wisdom to Catilana's words. Most of us are what we are, but that doesn't necessarily preclude a bit of variation. It's not something I've ever had much interest in, but the inspiration has struck once or twice.
catalina_francisco said:I am an advocate for variation, but in this I still maintain it is not transferrable in pure essence. If able to switch, while still predominantly dominant, the perception of the experience is going to be coloured by aspects of your dominance, in other words a dominants experience of being a submissive, but nnever 100% the experience of a submissive being a sub. Similarly, the experience as sub or dominant is going to differ with each new partner, just as sex usually is in subsequent vanilla relationships. It is the interplay, as well as the individual personalities of each, which make up the finished experience. And I can well imagine, as a pain slut myself, why you may be preoccupied with the effects.
Catalina
Peter2002 said:The effects are intellectually delicious to me, which might explain why I so love pain sluts.
But here's what I learned from that experience. Well, here's what I think learned that was applicable not only to my girl but in some general sense to many submissives:
There is something extremely stimulating -- even if at times scary, or perhaps I should say aprehension inducing -- about having another person (in this case a lover) focus all of their erotic energy and imagination on you and only you. This wasn't a case of, "I'll tell you who I was thinking about if you'll tell me." It wasn't role play. That afternoon, I think I understood a bit better what made her -- and me -- tick. And I gave her an extremely long and extrememly slow caning to celebrate that fact.
It's still a memory of Proustian intensity.
catalina_francisco said:Yes, I will be reminding myself how much I love pain when we begin to prepare to redo my cutting in the not too distant future.
C
Peter2002 said:I'm sure your master realizes what a lucky man he is.
-- Peter
shysexkitten said:i just want him to know what i go through when he has me tied down i want him to know what goes through my head when hes spanking me and talking down to me. i want him to know what it feels like to be hes bitch and slave at any minute that he wants me to be at his will. He needs to know in order to appreciate me
He is shocked by her admission. Is she this clueless? Has she really no idea the pain he already carries. ‘Steady, boy, don’t give away any emotion. Don’t strike her. She is terrified enough, waiting, sweating, knees sore and beginning to quiver. God, she is beautiful. She thinks I’m angry, but I’m not, this is very funny. I must not laugh, he thinks. This could be serious. She is revealing something to me she has never revealed before. He paces around her and she continues her demure defiance, not looking away from the infinite spot on the ground before her. “Stay”, he commands and goes into his study. She hears him open his drawer and he returns with a ruler. “Put this under your knees while I think of how to respond to your request.” …posted by dearest niteshade ... I want you to know me, to understand all that I bring to you, and how precious a gift I give.
She is terrified, terrified but thrilled when she sees the whip. Fear and excitement duel deep in her stomach. She know that she deals close to the edge, that she must obey perfectly. "I comply fully, Master, of my own free will."da grunt, hurt that no one wants to interact on this thread, continues his story Speak wench!" ...
He falls to his knees before her and inhales the essence of her passion. His hands fall to her feet and deeply massage, his large hands engulfing her foot, each groove in his hand, each callous and ridge, each palm line and fingerprint, each pore and nerve ending pushing, constricting, expanding, like the body of a snake, always deeply always pushing towards the heart, all the while inhaling the lovely fragrance, so closely, yet untouched. His hands continue, around her ankles and up her calves, deeply, feeling every muscle, kneading that flesh, needing that flesh ...da grunt trying to write a friggin' story "Spread your legs," and she does...
His hands work toward her knees. Her poor knees, so red, flat spots where she had squat on her own for so long, and an angry red ridge cut across both knees from his torment to her knees. Her precious kness.da grunt, moving right along ...kneading that flesh, needing that flesh ...
She pulls back her right fist above her shoulder and swings an overhead shot to his left shoulder. "Pathetic. You hit like a girl. If you're going to be my vassal you'd better do better than that. Put your weight behind it. Again!"da grunt "Now, hit me!"
She rares back and swings again, much like the first swing, but this blow hits him in the chest. He laughs. "Absolutely pa-fuckin'thetic! Turn around so I can show you how to hit," and he spins her around, and brings her elbows in and her fists where he wants them. "You can't hurt someone by swinging your arms unless you're really lucky. You have to put your bodies weight behind you and pivot from your waist, like this," and he shows her. "This is a jab, you use it to keep your oponent away, and you snap it out, like this ... and this is your power arm, after you set up with the jab you use you power arm ... this is a cross ... this is a haymaker ... this is an underhand ... this is an overhand ... you must get behind your punch ... okay .. better ... okay ... thats it ... okay ... ready?"da grunt "... Again!" [/B]
Excellent! Thanks for the feedback. I will finish this story, and I will incorporate your last post, somehow, and I'd like for you to contribute your feelings at any time. I'm lousy at understanding the female mind, and when I prose in the feminine I'm likely full of shit, and my perception of a 'masterful' session may not be anyone else's.Originally posted by shysexkitten ... I have to trust him and thats what i want from him trust in me
Again she draws back the same right arm and swings a crazy overhead haymaker which hits him in the right bicep. Almost inperceptively he moves, turning his hips so that it is not her fist, but her wrist which strikes.da grunt cotinues his story ... "Now hit me!"
"Harder, jab, jab, faster, punch, jab, now cross, get back and jab, punch, jab, punch, faster, faster, harder, faster, jesus you're weak, harder, faster, goddamn work, harder, harder, pick it up, come on, faster, faster, harder, harder, faster, damnit you've only got 10 friggin' hits left and you haven't qualified yet, not harder, faster, come on, don't stop, come on. Alright, cool, I think that's 50, you can stop now."da grunt ... As he encourages her his body is alive under his shirt, moving slightly forward, slightly back, a little up, a little down, a tiny bit right, left, all his movement from the hips.