Pain In BDSM 2

My BDSM session focuses on Corporal Punishment and Bondage

The purpose of this post is to give a perspective of pain in a BDSM session, the why and the how of it. I know that use of pain in BDSM is something people struggle to  understand. Here is my perspective.

Just so you understand, to set the scene, I had a BDSM session 7 days ago. It featured me being tied up with leather straps (bondage) and heavy corporal punishment from a leather clad dominatrix. She used belts, straps, tawse, canes and a prison strap on me. And I loved it.

These implements were all used on my butt hard enough to leave welts for a few days. My hands were strapped and tawsed hard enough to leave them bruised and tingling for three days.

This kind and level of corporal punishment I would  have called as a ‘medium’ intensity session, maybe a fraction more but not much more.

In previous sessions I’ve been strapped and caned so hard my butt has become leathery and had blood on it from a number of places, the bruising showing up purple and black for nearly a week

For this session I asked the mistress for a ‘medium but as she wishes’ as I’d not had a session for 13 months and hence felt my tolerance and the ability to endure corporal punishment would be down, reduced.

Just so as you know, I wanted this, and I really really enjoyed it both as it happened and later when I felt the effects.

Also, so there is no misunderstanding and to put context into it, I don’t have an orgasm in the session, I don’t have sex in the session nor given any intimate touching or hand relief etc. I get corporal and bondage – pure and simple.

Google Pain and BDSM

If you do an internet search you can pretty much find any reason to have or not have anything in your life. The total spectrum of human interaction and possible end results is damn near infinite. It becomes problematic to find something that is definitive that targets what you are really wanting to know.

Also, the intelligence and the wisdom of the people giving the information may not be helpful. Do they truly understand what they are talking about, or is their study based on academic and scientific grounds with little feeling for the topic?

Getting the right answer can be totally subjective to all parties; the writer and the reader. And thus it is for me.

In my experience I feel many articles miss the point with pain and BDSM more often than not. Sometimes they miss a central and blindingly simple explanation for things.

For Me...

For me, pain in a BDSM session is an experience, a feeling not stigmafied or rejected because it is pain. It is a transport mechanism, it promotes a feeling of relief, it is nothing and everyting. It is contradictory and perplexing to many, to me it just is.

There is a difference in what I present here to many other writings on the internet – I offer information from the first person perspective.

When I’m questioned by my wife as to how I can accept what I do, I think the worst thing about pain in BDSM is my inability to bring understanding. It is totally foreign to others. Trying to explain it is so damn difficult.

I get the question, “but it hurts. How can you want that?”

I give the answer “It’ contexual, part of the total experience of the session, it captures and transports.”

And so it is with searching for ‘bdsm pain’ and various combinations. Expect to be confused.

I Never Saw Myself as a Masochist

Even now, writing that, I find it difficult to identify as being a masochist.

I don’t like pain outside of a BDSM session. A splinter, a stubbed toe, and the list gos on for painful thing I hate.

But in a BDSM session I ask for heavy corporal punishment and expect to be pushed to my limit for accepting something that is inherently painful. I pay good money for it. I keep coming back. I ask the mistress to push me.  A caning hurts. The tawse across the palms is excruciating.

So by defninition I must be a masochist. Strangely enough I struggle with that.

Is It The Endorphin Rush?

There may well be an element of this in the experience.

But I believe saying it’s endorphins is a cop-out if I said it applied to me.

It’s an easy way to justify something, to make people reach some kind of understanding even thought it is probably not correct. It is the easy out.

The more I think about it, the less this suits me. I feel the pain, it gets in, it is difficult to accept. I don’t feel a high from it, I don’t get a massive erection or have some kind of frisson of delight with a particularly painful cane or strap or tawse stroke.

They all hurt. They hurt a lot. I don’t feel a pleasure from it.

I push my butt out for more, to invite more down. I ask for the tawse across the palms knowing how devastating it will be. I feel embarrassment when my face screws up after the tawse lashes down, then I life my hands up for more, dreading it, yet needing it, watching mistress as she puts the tawse up ready for the next stroke.

Then when it is delivered, I feel the pain, I want it to stop, yet I want more of it. I feel challenge as it is happening, relief when it stops, then dissappointment when it is over.

More than anything, I feel the challenge to accept the pain. I feel the need to feel the pain, to really be engrossed in it. I feel relief from the pain, the pain sending me elsewhere and almost out of body.

The pain in bondage while gagged, delivered by a dominatrix in the dungeon is so vastly different to any other kind of pain I have received. It just feels different.

The pain makes me feel, the pain sends me elsewhere and nowhere.

As I said to my wife, it is contextual – in the BDSM session it just works.

We are conditioned to shun pain

All our lives we know pain tells us something is going wrong. We’ve stubbed a toe, broken a bone, have some issue etc.

And that is good. Without pain telling us there is a problem we might die from simple things that should have been treated. We know that ignoring pain is very bad for all the same reasons.

Cutting To The Chase

I get pain in my BDSM sessions and it works for me. Simple. Take that in. It works for me.

Have I explained it properly? Do you understand? Does it make sense? Does it need to make sense?

Prostate Exam and BDSM

Protstate Exam and Blazing Butts Don't Mix

I was scheduled for a prostate exam in a week’s time and it had been some weeks since my previous BDSM session so I was wanting one.

I really was. It was at the forefront of my thoughts.

I had been in therapy for a few months over something else. I was talking to the counselor about how much I wanted a session but I had the exam scheduled. She said “why don’t you go? I can’t see why not?”

I really loved the acceptance this gave.

This also spoke to her ignorance as to what I get in a session – and also my reluctance to spell it out in detail. I’d given her some broad brush stroke ideas but she didn’t think it was as full on. Clearly. Maybe she thought a prostate exam happened with the clothes on? I have no idea how it could happen this way.

I had to explain to her that having a prostate exam where the pants came down would expose the cane welts that usually last for at least a week and sometimes two. That would just be far too confronting to say the least.

She stopped to look surprised at that. I really doubt she’d thought it was as full on for me.

Naughty as it sounds, I did think about seeing her after a sesson and giving her a peek at the results. But that didn’t happen.

Sadly this therapist had her own demons, her own issues, and so we became incompatible. it was a pity.

Long Journey Into BDSM and Kink

My Long Journey Into Kink

Growing up in a normal family, in a normal suburb with a middle of the road normal life I realized in my very early teens I liked belts far more than I thought others did.

This is my story of over half a century of self discovery, acceptance, then embracing that I am kinky.

As a test of my acceptance, I can now write, ‘Yes I am kinky. I have a leather fetish and have regular BDSM sessions with a dominatrix who puts me into bondage then gives me corporal punishment. I need it.’

It has taken more than a few decades to be able to write that.

The Early Years

With nothing published in media or print, zero exposure to it in an era when BDSM was taboo, I found I liked belts far too much. And leather. I enjoyed tying myself up with them and had my first orgasm when tied up. At my early age and in my ignorance, that was a difficult time.

I’d never heard the term bondage, but I found years later I had been practicing self-bondage.

Corporal punishment was not at the front of my mind, ‘it just was there’ deep inside me. Later I was to read about it, and it became more prominent.

As the years passed, self-bondage became my secret passion, something I did as often as able.

University, work, family life kept me from taking this further. I would just tie myself up occasionally and that would slake my needs as I then felt them.

That First Walk Of Seven Yards

At a traumatic point in my life I went into therapy where this aspect of my secret me came out. For the first time ever.

Imagine my surprise when these admissions were met with acceptance and the suggestion that they did not make me less than I am, would hurt no one else, and wonder that I had not done it before.

Against all my preconceived thoughts and inhibitions cemented into me by decades of denial I tried it. I had my first BDSM session. Walking in off the street to knock on the door was the most difficult thing I’d ever done.

Then the session itself was more than fabulous. It transformed and transported me.

In my first ever visit to a dungeon I felt I had come home, a feeling that I still get over 15 years later.

Evolving Within BDSM

In my early years I could never have discussed my BDSM desires, needs, fetish, kink. Call it whatever you like. It was a total secret.

Then after my first session I became more comfortable discussing it with a therapist (a huge step in itself).

After that I came out to my wife about my needs. We reached a concensus that it is part of me and that it helps me significantly. I have my sessions and she accepts they do not come between us, rather they help me love her all the more.

The BDSM has evolved also. Initially it was all about self-bondage and nothing more. I got my pleasure from that. Then in my first professional session I received corporal punishment only to find that it worked so well with bondage. It transported, it shifted my consciousness.

As the years passed, I found that the corporal punishment aspect became more dominant. I collected implements for corporal punishment, belts, straps and tawse and take great pleasure from their use on me.

Now I find I look for new experiences in the bondage and corporal punishment arena. I find myself looking for new implements. I spend time thinking about changes to my BDSM sesions that can enhance them.

Self Discovery and Acceptance

Acceptance was to become the most difficult thing in my life, and at many levels. To gain acceptance is to gain true freedom and release.

I had to accept this need in me, I had to accept it did not take away from other aspects of me. I would still be the loving husband, father, son that I had always been. I just had this something extra.

My upbringing made that difficult. BDSM was a taboo subject, something whispered about if at all so that anyone admitting to it was akin to admitting to being a pervert.

To this day I feel that, but it is far less.

Guilt Is the natural enemy of happiness. It makes acceptance impossible. Until I could get past feelings of shame and guilt, I could never be truly happy. I know that now. I know also that my guilt had no basis in fact.

Honesty is difficult. Self discovery works best with honesty. Trying to understand myself and being honest about my needs is difficult. This can make acceptance impossible when denial get in the way.

The Enduring Journey

Over more than fifteen years of having regular BDSM sessions and learning more and more about myself, I realize my journey will never end.

Part of me does not want it to end. I still find it exciting, fulfilling and oh so necessary. Sometimes I rail aganst these needs, but then when they are slaked, the reward is a kind of release and happiness I can get nowhere else.

I will forever feel its calling as it is part of me.

I recognize the mistake in saying I had ‘buried’ this need. To bury is to suggest something that could be singled out, isolated, treated as an entity. Rather, this need is within me, a slice of my psyche that I had been in denial of.

Leather Cat Suit and Muscle Soreness

The Model, the Leather Cat Suit, The Prison Strap

I started with a new mistress (to me) because the previous and I had drifted apart. There was no real reason, I just felt I needed someone new. After 8 or nine sessions, this seems to happen to me.

I chose a mistress who was six feet tall in bare feet, and my goodness, she was absolutely stunning too. She said she’d been a model and also a fetish model so she was quite into the whole thing. And I could believe her. Her website was also rather good to look at.

Anyway, on our first session she expressed absolute awe at my gear and particularly loved the heavy Canadian Prison Strap I have.

This strap is a replica of what was used in Canadian prisons last century to punish hardened prisoners. It was designed to ‘really get into‘ the recipient and to punish them.

For those not familiar, the Canadian Priso Strap is about 3 feet long and made of absolutely heavy and strong leather so it is heavy.

She picked it up, caressed it and really wanted to put it to use. Picture that; there I am standing in the dungeon immersed in my kink with this gorgeous amazonian dominatrix – how could I refuse her?

We talked about my session and she asked if I’d ever had it cold, at the start of a session, a cold hard prison strapping. I said not, but it got stuck in my mind.

Anyway, the session proceeded as per normal. She gave me some very heavy corporal, wearing the belts like I wanted her to, using them, using the various tawse, belts and straps I have etc.

Then at the end she gave me a huge and hard dozen of the prison strap from each side. She kicked off her high heels so she could keep her balance better and put all her energy into it. She put the strap far behind her as she wound up then delivered. I remember being pushed forward with each stroke, and each one really hurting and sounding like a pistol shot.

When the session finished, after I packed up, she was beaming and rather pleased. She said it was a favorite session and was looking forward to more of the same.

Seriously, how could I resist?

Anyway, a few weeks later when I returned she said on the next day she’d had some muscle soreness from the session which annoyed her. So, she’d taken up some gym work and was feeling stronger and more ready. She was busting to get into it.

So I went for it, I asked for the cold prison strapping.

 I can promise that the prison strap wielded by a powerful (and gorgeous) woman without any warm up is hard to take, challenging, and damn rewarding. On a butt that hasn’t had anything to desensitize it, the very first stroke lifted me onto my toes and made me sway in suspension. Then each and every stroke thereafter was just the same, delivered hard and felt deeply.

I find that being gagged helps, it seems to make taking corporal easier. But, like wow, that prison strap works so well.

And one of the best things was the visual. The dominatrix standing with the heavy prson strap, running it through her hands, winding up then using it tweaks all the kink and fetish imaginable.

The Leather Catsuit

The only thing better was a prison strapping from a mistress in a leather catsuit, wearing my wide belts. Oh I do miss that.

On one of our last sessions before she moved overseas she said she had a leather catsuit made for her. It was absolutely spectacular and with my wide belts round her waist, and using my implements, she was everything a fetishist into corporal punishment could want.

Then it got better. Half way through the session she was feeling that the suit was not quite supple enough, so she peeled it down to her waist and wow, was it a good look. The black bra, the naked torso of the gorgeous woman giving me corporal was special, so very special.

Such is the kink.

My Real Life BDSM session

Real Life BDSM Session - Nov 2020

This was to be my first BDSM session in 13 months making it a little more scary-exciting for me than usual.

My sessions feature bondage and heavy corporal punishment from a leather clad strict and stern dominatrix, a professional mistress, so they can be challenging to say the least. My need is to be pushed, extended, to make the experience send me out of body into a different place, to leave the real world behind.

After such a long time away I was worried how my tolerance to corporal punishment would be and also slightly worried about the whole thing. Was I going to regret it, finding it was not for me any more? Had the time away meant I’d drifted away from the BDSM needs I’d felt so strongly previously?

The short answer is that the session was a total success, Mistress was a delight making the whole dungeon-bondage-corporal experience exactly what I wanted. It was also what I needed, with the difference between wants and needs talking to my hidden secret inner self.

This Is MY Real Life BDSM Session

As per usual the pre session discussion I found difficult to expose what I’d been thinking about for the session but Mistress made it easy for me and said I was not alone in that. These kinds of interactions are huge for me, working at the acceptance level of my self-stigma for having this need.

Then when we enter the dungeon I have all the same feelings of excitement to be there, of expansion-relief and coming home. I feel like ‘I have arrived’ and now it’s happening at long last.

There is no ambiguity in the dungeon, it exists for one reason, the reason I am there. It offers a promise that I know will so soon be delivered and that feels so good.

The session itself proceeds extremely well with all the feelings of dread, excitement, surprise, out of body floating and cathartic relief. All my fetish and kink buttons are pushed and pushed hard with Mistress working the moment to full effect.

Mistress is empathetic, sensible, careful and fun, strict and stern yet engaging. Her sessions have a light hearted aspect yet at the same time can be heavy and severe making them a total success, all created and catering for me, my own private theater.

As is typical of just about all my sessions I experience the usual plurality of contradictory feelings. My leather fetish and feelings for belting and strapping compete with the need to endure the corporal punishment Mistress gives. I feel the disjoint between my inner desires, my deep fetishes competing with the effects of it and the logic of what is happening. I want it to be over, to have accepted it yet at the same time I want more. I need more. It calls to me.

The warm-up is a belting to my butt from a doubled over inch and a half wide belt, a perfect choice by Mistress which sets the pace for the session with her enthusiasm and skill. The belting is firmly delivered making my butt flare instantly in sting lifting me out of the here and now to start me on my journey of relief. As she wields the belt Mistress brings the whole area up into a deep warmth, suffused with sting, as the strokes power down. My increasing reaction shows the power of her strokes but soon the belting takes another form within me so I take the strokes better, accepting them better.

All through the session, the sound of the implements in use is a highlight. The crisp crack of the folded belt landing changes from belt to belt, from strap to strap. Then the deeper thuddy sound of the prison strap, the sshhwack of the tawse on a hand and the sshhwick of the cane all have their distinctive sounds. These echo in the dungeon and I have no doubt, echo down the corridor outside for others to hear.

Mistress makes it a complete experience, telling me I’m getting a belting as I watch her winding up and delivering, and this is part of my thing, being told by Mistress about the strapping, belting, caning and the tawsing I’m to receive.

Much later and many strokes from many implements later as the session draws near to the end, Mistress picks up my heavy prison strap that looks so challenging. I feel dread, ‘can I take that strap?’ goes round in my mind, but then the strokes from it slap down in a broad band of pain strangely less challenging than expected. But the visual of Mistress wielding the prison strap is all. She sees my ease of dealing with this strapping, so she takes the challenge then delivers more and harder. Mistress has her own prison strap I wish I had asked her for as well as mine, but my gag stops that request. It will be as Mistress wishes, just as it should.

Then the cane is painful, sharp and deeply impacting with each stroke cutting deep into my self. I push myself out to the punishment, inviting it down, inviting more, yet dreading it. I let it fill me, taking it in but not fighting it. That is key, to accept and not fight the cane, the strap, the belt and tawse.

The first carefully measured and increasing in severity cane strokes hurt, deeply. Then I get past that pain, I accept it. I take the caning into my being, leaving the pain behind. Mistress senses my acceptance of the cane, the slow measured strokes becoming harder as she watches my reaction reduce, as I push myself back to her, to the cane, to invite it down.

Nothing else exists except the dungeon, Mistress and the cane.

Then there is a delay as Mistress re-assesses. She knows I must be pushed, extended, challenged and that is her challenge.

Mistress delivers three quick hard strokes bringing a reaction from me. Those get in, overload me, make me react, taking me deeper. Then there is another delay as I come down to regain my senses. Mistress watches then gives a quick six, all delivered hard to produce the same effect. This builds and builds, extending, challenging, sending me deeper. The delay, the quick hard caning increasing the number of strokes, then the delay, then it repeats. The final caning of nearly two dozen hard quick cane strokes lift me onto my toes making my head go back and close my eyes as I’m engulfed in the experience. There is no me any more, I am sent, spent, engulfed.

Against my desires, I had found myself counting the strokes, something I shun, then I want to ask, ‘why stop at twenty three? Shouldn’t it be twenty four, a multiple of six of the best?’ Of course not, I know, it is as Mistress wishes.

The pain is not the pain. The pain in bondage, in the dungeon, from Mistress is just part of the experience, the transport, the route to another existence to another me. It is all things, it is nothing.

The tawse is flicked up onto my palm to lay for a second, then it’s withdrawn to be raised over a shoulder. I feel the dread as I look at Mistress in front of me, at the tawse she holds, as she readies herself for the stroke which I know will hurt. This is my XH tawse, the really painful one with the three stiff leather tails. Then it doesn’t come. Mistress just flicks the tawse back down again gently to lay there on the waiting palm, time and again. I tense. Mistress teases, gets her aim in, holds the tawse in readiness, the gentle slaps of the tawse almost a caress. Mistress is training me to wait, to accept whatever comes.

The visual of Mistress is engrossing, filling the head space. How can it not be? A gorgeous leather dominatrix stands with a tawse raised over a shapely bare shoulder poised to strike leaves nothing to the imagination other than ‘Will she or won’t she?’ Will she flick it down to lay benignly or will it crack down hard? Each time the temptation to move the hand must be overcome even though it is bound to the bench. Then, when Mistress chooses, the tawse cracks down devastating me, making my eyes close tightly, the pain engulfing then receding slowly to a hot deep ache. Then there is more. There is never one stroke, there should never be just one stroke.

Mistress makes the experience completely engrossing

And I want it all. There is no single feeling, no single desire, it is all I want. I want more. I can’t take more. I need more. It will be As Mistress Wishes and that is as it should be. I must endure.

Then as the session draws to a close I feel disappointed it is over, disappointed to be finishing and thinking I must wait till the next repeat. I really don’t want it to be over. My time with Mistress has been sublime.

I wish the session had been longer, that I’d been left in bondage for lock and leave time, with straps binding me tightly as I experience where the corporal has sent me. But it is not to be. Should this be a goal in a future session, or should it be the unrequited desire that calls from the distance, calling me, inviting me, bringing me hope for the future? Maybe some goals should always remain, always be there to draw me forward.

I feel regret that Mistress did not use that belt or strap again, that the caning should have been harder, that the prison strapping should have been more strokes and harder. I regret that the blindingly powerful tawse strokes to each palm were not repeated again and again.

But intellectually I know I’m wrong, I know the contradictions for what they are; fantasy versus reality versus wishful thinking. And I know Mistress took me to my limit and more would have been maybe too much, but I know I want more. All those thoughts swirl around as the session finishes.

Later at home the change in me, the relief I feel is evident. My wife asks me how I feel, wanting to know yet struggling with the whole thing, the strangeness of it to her. I tell her of the relief but precious little of the session itself. She asks about Mistress, to gain some idea of the person but she is lost in her non understanding. To her there is only being hit, being beaten, while to me that does not happen as for me it is a caning, belting, strapping and tawsing which are at the heart of me. Hitting and beating is not caning and strapping, the difference impossible for her to grasp.

To her there is only the pain, to me it is a small part yet a large part, a transport mechanism yet a destination in itself. I try to explain the contradictions but I fail. I think to myself, ‘Do I really know, do I really understand myself?

The following day I sit feeling the presence of the session flare up, the tingle and the bruising evident. I look in the mirror then feel disappointment that the marks aren’t deeper, the welts more pronounced. I smile at the strangeness of that.

The day after that as I revise this, I still feel the sting in my butt and I still feel the relief from the session. I feel happier than I have in a long time.

Two weeks later I am wanting it even more as the whole experience calls me. Maybe I need to go into BDSM training again.

I know I will be back as I glance at the calendar to find my next session date. I ask myself how the session can be improved or changed. Should I ask for a cold caning and prison strapping to really challenge me? I say to myself that with so many sessions behind me, I should suggest some changes.

Yet the session was so good.

When can  I have another?

Honeymoon BDSM Swap

Brand New Husband Swap

Sometimes a true story is just so odd it has to be true.

A Mistress told me she went on a honeymoon with her new husband overseas. He was into the whole BDSM thing and it sounded like a good match. Anyway, he chose the destination which she found out had a mistress he wanted to see. The mistress advertised and he got it into his head he wanted to see her.

Well, as a present to her husband, and she had a great sense of humour and appreciation of life, she swapped her husband for the Mistress’s own slave for a day.

Imagine that. On honeymoon, swapsies with another mistresses slave. Then a good hard corporal session.

She said they each gave the others’ partner a sound caning and that was all she mentioned. I don’t doubt there was other corporal and bondage happening. Sex? I have no idea but I doubt it.

Apparently it worked out well. She said her husband had cane makes on him for a week and that made swimming in bathers tricky.

It was all good fun. It puts a new perspective on a honeymoon.

It just occurred to me that a BDSM session does not have to have sex in it to work. It really is (or can be) a totally different head space to sex. for me, a heavy corporal session leaves little else in the mind.

A ‘vanilla’ example might be that I really like ice cream and I like a nice steak and wedges meal. I would never put icecream on steak.

Off Billet Strap for Corporal

Off Billet Strap for Corporal Punishment

I visited a saddle and tack shop I’d seen a few times in passing. Not having a horse and being pretty clueless about the whole riding thing means I’m a bit nervous of being asked questions by attentive staff. But like gravity I’m pulled into these shops regularly.

The scent of leather, the saddles, the harness is a leather fetishists delight. Damn. If I had the spare money and the private space, a saddle or two would grace my humble hacienda quick smart. I foresee problems convincing my wife one would be necessary in the bedroom. Convincing her more than one would be better is probably asking a bit much. Oh well.

So on one visit and trying not to hyperventilate, just looking around I found something that I just had to purchase; an Off Billet Strap.

Off Billet Strap

For those not in the know, an Off Billet Strap is about two inches wide, eighteen inches long but doubled over (so a three foot strap folded in half). The one pictured above is very close to what mine is like.

And it is a beautiful piece of leather. Seriously!

A simple description doesn’t do it justice. It is a truly heavy piece of leather designed to securely hold a saddle onto a horse, so it is strong and as I mentioned, a rather nice strap. The leather itself is so heavy it almost invites being picked up and felt. And smelled. And run through the hands.

This strap and as a result of its proportions, is rather severe when used with any force on a bared butt, feeling somewhat similar to the Canadian Prison Strap.

Mistresses Favorite

One mistress, a tall ex-model took a rather strong fancy to this strap (and my Canadian Prison Strap), and she liked using it on me. A few sets of a dozen is rather grueling the way she used it.

Well after one session and in discussion about it, where I got it from, how much it was etc, I decided to get one for her. Of course the shop I went to had sold out so I had to take mine to a saddler and get a copy made.

Dueling Off Billet Straps

As soon as I’d given it to her, mistress was rather keen to try her new strap out. She really was rather keen on giving heavy corporal.

So during the session she did just that. She tried them both out giving me a dozen of each to see if I could detect any difference.

Of course I couldn’t, both lifted me onto my toes and made me gasp.

On a subsequent session I asked if she’d had a chance to use hers. She smiled as she said she had. ‘He squealed’ was the verdict as to how well it worked, and I believe her entirely.

This was the mistress who changed her gym routine for more upper body work so she could use my Canadian Prison strap harder.

FemDom Riding Academy – Part 1

FemDom Riding Academy Advertisement

In websites and online articles, a number of advertisements were taken out. There were two kinds, one for FemDoms and the other for slaves. Each made it clear this was for a kinky sex and no strings attached facility where secret passions could be indulged with willing partners.

FemDom Advert

FemDoms, Ladies, are you missing out? Are you unable to have sex with your clients because that breaks the dynamic? Is no one at home to give that feeling of satisfaction and relief you need?

We have the perfect solution waiting for you in our stables.

The slaves of the  ‘FemDom Riding Academy’ exist to serve the needs of FemDoms wanting satisfaction with no strings attached.

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Calling all naughty girls and boys. Do you dream of being the mere plaything for a beautiful FemDom Mistress? Have you tried BDSM but the sex is missing, the intimacy not there? Do you dream of a no strings FemDom with benefits, an experience where her pleasure is the only goal? Will she grant you relief, or will she leave you for the next FemDom to use strictly for her pleasure?

Applications from experienced slaves only. References and a screening session will be required. Only virile, athletic and capable slaves need apply.

Michael Makes Contact

Michael emailed his BDSM resume to the admin email address of The Riding Academy then waited nervously. Supplying a photo of himself from front and side angles as well as full body normally clothed was a concern but his application would be rejected without it they said.

The whole thing sounded totally excessively exciting to him. He’d been into BDSM for a few years now, was single, and loved every moment of it. His last relationship had ended badly and now he was of the opinion that forming a relationship outside of BDSM was a non starter. They just didn’t get the idea.

The problem was sex. He liked it very much, had little trouble getting it via Tinder and dating sites, but it felt so superficial and had got rather mechanical and boring. Vanilla sex could be lovely but the thought of BDSM sex was something that was just pulling so hard he couldn’t ignore it.

Trying BDSM sex as a ‘plaything’ did sound exciting for a change.

The following day he got a phone call, not an email which surprised him. The woman calling herself ’The Riding Mistress’ asked so many questions about him, his life, his sexual experience and BDSM preferences it felt vastly intimate and daunting. ‘If you want the position, we need to know these things. Our clients demand experience and performance. We make sure our clients are matched up with compatible slaves,’ which excited him yet again. She finished off with, ‘We will email you after we have checked your references and given your application and responses proper consideration.’

Nothing arrived the next day. Nor the one after that but on day three after the call he got an email; ‘Your application has been approved. You must submit to a screening session. No sexual relief for 1 week before is required. You may get relief on the day, it depends on your performance and on the FemDom or FemDoms. On the day you will submit to at least one FemDom for evaluation for ongoing positions.’ After that was a user name and password for him access a login on of their website to make a reservation and manage his preferences. It was all very professional.

He spent a nervous half hour updating everything then accessed the calendar, found a time and date that suited him then made the reservation. It was for two hours, not the normal one and it laid out the ground rules again. Everything was very much what he would have expected but the no sexual relief, no intimate touching, no indulging in porn for the week prior was a change from the normal professional bookings he made.

The Stables

He presented to the Riding Academy at the appointed time then entered. The woman behind the reception desk was clearly a dominatrix. The leather skirt, corset, choker collar and cap were a dead give away. After confirming his name and appointment, she took him through a door to a small change room that had a shower and racks of lockers for clothes. ’I am the Riding Mistress,’ she said firmly to him,

Then, equally firmly, ’Strip, put all your clothes into the locker, shower and rinse your mouth then wait.’ She was certainly brusque and direct.

He did just that by putting his clothes into a locker then had a quick shower. After drying off then a double rinse with mouthwash he sat naked on the bench and waited.

Not long later the Riding Mistress returned carrying some hear. ‘All your visits will have your wrists bound, you’ll be collared with a lead, usually a blindfold and gagged. You’ll be left in the stables for the mistresses to select and use unless you have a booking from them. It’s up to the mistresses who use you to release you from any bondage, or none at all. They may want oral then give you some corporal or bondage, all or nothing. It’s up to them. They may just want a cuddle in a bed, or oral, or full service or any and all. You won’t have a choice.’

‘Yes mistress,’ he said quietly.

With that she slapped his face from one side to the other, not hard, but it surprised the hell out of him. ‘Address me as Riding Mistress.’

‘Yes Riding Mistress, sorry Riding Mistress,’ he said quickly. She certainly was strict.

‘Better,’ she said, then she strapped the wide leather collar round his neck and attached, then, ‘stand,’ she said as she pulled on the lead.

He stood then she firmly buckled wide leather cuffs round his wrists then connected them behind his back. ‘Follow,’ she said as she led him out of the change room.

“Normally you’ll be gagged and blindfolded. You may never see the stables again, or you might. It all depends on the mistress who uses you.’ She led him out of the change room, across a small concrete corridor then into a much larger room. It had bench seats along the walls, a large screen television, a media center and a kitchenette. ‘This is the stable where we keep slaves before they are used. When you get a booking, you’ll be led in here then parked on a bench waiting for the mistress to use you. She’ll come in then do as she wishes. Usually you’ll be led out of the room and into play room and all the time you’ll probably be blindfolded.’

She led him to a bench seat then he saw on the wall a large ring. ‘Sit’ she said, which he did. She ran the lead up to the ring then clipped it there. ‘You will always be in bondage as you wait for mistress, then she added after a moment and with a smile, ‘or mistresses plural.’

‘Last chance,’ she said, ‘do you consent to be used sexually, given corporal punishment, put into bondage for your time here. Say yes Riding Mistress or no Riding Mistress. This is your last chance to back out. After this we will have a training session if you say yes Riding Mistress. Speak now.’

He looked at the Riding Mistress in the leather gear and in bondage like he was, the whole idea, the whole concept still hugely attractive. ‘Yes please Riding Mistress, I consent.’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘This is how you’ll be left.’ After saying that she went to a table then collected a fist full of strappy looking gear. Returning he saw the ball gag, ‘Open’ she said just before she put it into his mouth and strapped it in tightly. Then the blindfold came next and then seconds later he felt something wrap his ankles. She’d strapped them together with a belt he found when he tried to move them.

He jumped when her hand found his cock and gripped it, then he got an instant erection as she ran her hand up and down its length, feeling his cock all over, running her hands along it. At the same time she must have pushed her chest into his face as he smelled her up close, the scent of woman, perfume and leather all mixing, getting into his brain through his nostrils as she fondled his cock, making his erection even harder. He sat in bondage unable to move or say anything.

‘Get used to being a sex object,’ she said quietly into his ear. Then she continued to run her hands over him for a few minutes, his erection now painfully hard. With a last tweak to his cock making him jump, Wait,’ she said then he heard her footsteps departing, the door open then close, then he heard her footsteps receding into the distance.

He sat bound and gagged with the blindfold cutting his sight off. He sat quietly with his erection going down slowly but still desperate for attention, feeling the straps around his wrists and ankles and then running his tongue over the ball gag in his mouth. He tried to move but found he was bound rather well. He could probably stand up but with the lead clipped to the wall he wouldn’t be able to move far and most likely he’d fall over anyway. So he sat quietly and listened.

First Use

As he sat and listened he waited, but time seemed to pass differently. He had only the bondage to feel and the ball gag to suck on so he had no idea how long he was there. Being naked and in bondage like that really was a buzz for him though, he was really quite enjoying it.

Time stretched and stretched until at last he heard multiple footsteps in the distance approaching then the door open. It was obviously at least one woman and maybe more from the sound of the voices. They were talking quietly, so quietly he struggled to hear, then he heard sounds coming from the other side of the room then he smelled it, coffee. He’d seen a machine so they must have made themselves a cup, then the heard them approach.

He felt the bench seat move slightly then he felt a woman sitting on either side of him and again his erection woke up. He was in bondage between two mistresses then. That was as kinky as he could want and with the passing seconds his erection got harder and harder.

‘Interesting,’ said a woman on one side quietly then he felt a soft hand take his cock which felt fantastic. The scent and the feel of being fondled was doing his head in. The the other woman said ‘usable’ from the other side as he felt a hand moving up and down his chest, ‘not bad. Lets play.’

He felt the strap around his ankles release, then the women stood and seconds later his lead was tugged making him stand. ‘Follow,’ one said.

They led him out of the room then into the corridor, his feet feeling the change from carpet to concrete. Then a short walk later they entered another room, his feet standing on carpet again.

They led him into the room then stopped him with a hand on his chest.

‘I feel like corporal,’ said one, and the other woman sighed, ‘and I want a come. Do me first then we can both do some corporal and then we can go again.’

The woman wanting corporal sighed also, then, ‘OK,’ as he felt his lead pulled so he followed but only two steps. ‘Kneel,’ said a woman so he did. When his knees were on the carpet he felt his legs strapped together again then he felt a woman close in front of him then he sensed movement, something happening then he heard her sit, possibly on a chair or bed.

Nothing happened for a few moments but he heard clothes rustling then a hand unstrapped the ball gag. ‘Lick me good,’ was the command as hand gripped his head pulling him forward and down. In a moment he smelled then felt a woman’s crutch then with his head held firmly it was positioned right where she wanted it.

He had never minded giving head, he suspected it was all part of being submissive, and this time it was certainly all of that. He licked, he tongued, he moved his face up and down as he pleasured the woman. She gripped his head to move him for her pleasure which he could feel was rising quickly.

It didn’t take long till he felt her quivering, her thighs and crutch reacting strongly and moving against his face as he worked her.

Then there was a loud ‘crack’ as his bent over butt was given a hard stroke of something, something like a strap or a belt. It wasn’t as sharp and deep as the cane or tawse and not as broad and thuddy as a prison strap.

He gasped loudly into the pussy his face was pulled into. This had an effect on the woman being licked, she gasped, ‘oh God yes, give him some more of my belt, I want to gag him with my pussy. Strap him hard. Make him shout into me,’ and with that the pressure on his head increased as he was pulled forward.

He responded as much as he could, thrusting his tongue deep inside her, running it up and down as best he could, finding her little clit and twiddling while all the time the other mistress strapped him. Soon the cracks of leather on his butt were echoed by the cries of a woman climaxing, her hips and thighs shaking like in an earthquake, her hands holding his head against the crutch that was wide open and wanting attention.

‘Ohh, that was good,’ he heard the woman in front of him say.

‘Lets give him some proper corporal, a proper strapping then the cane,’ said the woman behind him.

With that his head was released then he felt arms lifting him and ‘Up,’ one said. He stood on slightly wobbly feet because they were strapped together but that didn’t last long. He felt his wrists released then raised and with a light tinkling, they were clipped to something above him, a suspension bar he thought.

He heard a slight noise then his arms were pulled up till he was standing tall, almost but not quite on tip toe.

As he stood in bondage and with the taste of the woman in his mouth, his erection was raging again, poking out in front.

‘Oh look’ said the woman he guessed he’d had his face into, ‘I think he likes this. Go on, get into it,’ she said egging her companion on.

Seconds later his butt blazed again with a loud crack, this time the strap landing a lot harder and pushing him forward a little. This time the strap felt different, more stingy and less thuddy than the previous strapping making it more difficult to take.

This set the pace for the next few minutes. The woman behind him gave him a heavy strapping, the leather cracking down every few seconds but he got a surprise. The woman in front moved closer and closer so she was bumping against him when he got a hard stroke. Then with one stroke that was particularly hard his naked body was against her and that made his erection throb even more.

Then to his surprise, the woman in front fully embraced him, her body fully against him with her head to one side. ‘I’ve never had a man strapped when we cuddle,’ she said as her body was against his. ‘I’m kind of liking it,’ she added.

He found it remarkably erotic to feel and to smell the woman in bondage while under discipline. It was hugely erotic with her scent in his face as the strap slammed down on his butt. Her saying it was her belt only just made it better as he imagined her wearing it then taking it off, doubling it over then using it.

He felt a movement then the gag was loosened then removed. ‘Kiss me,’ she said then he had a face full of woman kissing his brains out.

As the strap landed. Slamming against his butt and the occasional stroke on the tops of his thighs his gasps went into the woman’s mouth, her tongue working on his, her mouth taking his shouts as she gagged him with her tongue.

Again it was incredibly erotic.

The woman behind him was giving him her all with the strap, his butt was blazing when the mouth left his, ‘Time out,’ said the woman in font, ‘I’ve got an idea.’

The woman left him for a moment then he heard some whispering. It didn’t last long then he heard something he couldn’t work out. But when she gripped his cock then rolled a condom into it, he recognized that well enough.

‘Lets see how this works,’ she said into his ear, raising his hopes for a fuck which was incredibly appealing right now.

Then the woman was embracing him again and with ‘Kiss me deep,’ her hand went onto his cock then it was guided into her warm wet tunnel sending him sky high as she moved forward and embraced him. Then he was deep tongue kissing her as she moved forward onto his cock, taking its full length till they were butted against each other, her crutch gripping his length tightly. She rolled her hips a little, moving him slightly, shifting against him to get it just right, taking pleasure from the feeling of cock deep inside her.

‘I’ve missed that feeling she whispered,’ with her arms around him locked in a deep kiss.

He gasped into her mouth as he felt his spunk rising. The woman felt that too, ‘Time for the cane, nice and hard, cool him down,’ she said beside his ear to the other woman as she gripped him tight and stopping any movement.

Seconds later his butt blazed incandescent as a line of fire crossed it. It could only be the cane from something as painful as that making him move and gyrate in the sting. That had two effects he found. First of all the movement made his cock move in and out of the woman in front but the immense sting and heat from the cane stroke also brought him back from coming, the mixed emotions prolonging the fuck.

‘One pump per stroke,’ she said into his ear which was something new and something wonderful he was thinking. He’d be caned for fucking, as he fucked. Then she added, ‘Try not to come,’ she said which he thought just about impossible with his cock right up her.

The woman in front moved her hips back so his cock retreated from her, then she slammed herself forward onto him, his cock exploding in pleasure from the thrust as she kissed him deeply, her tongue swirling against his and her full body sending tremors of pleasure through all of him.

Then there was the shrill sound of cane through the air and the sharp crack of it landing on his butt giving him an electrifying jolt of pain making him quiver. He’d been on planet fuck and immersed in it when the cane on his butt brought him back. The woman was now holding him tight, holding him close, her pussy gripping the length of his cock as the pain made him tremble but she wasn’t moving at all, gripping him tightly.

‘Yes,’ she gasped then, ‘that was good,’ she said into his ear, then she moved back and forward to fuck him hard. ‘Again,’ she said then her tongue was in his mouth as she gripped him tight, moved her hips away from him then slamming forward. The pump of her hips revived his cock and made him needy for release.

Seconds later the cane whistled then cracked and again he responded in the same way, quivering and shaking with the deep pain and that sent his cock moving and vibrating. The mistress in front gripped him tight. Only her tongue moved in his mouth silencing him as her arms wrapped him holding him tight and fully inserted into her but not moving her hips at all. As the cane stroke made his butt blaze, his cock twitched inside the woman but without the friction of movement he was brought from the edge of the massive come that was right in front of him. It took all his concentration not to push his hips back and forwards frantically to fuck her into blasting off a load into the condom.

Has he stood, the tongue moved around in his mouth then she lifted her face off and whispered, ‘If you can’t hold back, tell me. My friend wants a ride,’ and that did his head in. A threesome was not something he’d thought all that much about but with two dominatrices and in bondage with corporal it was the most erotic thing he could think of.

As she said that his cock twitched inside her again, then her tongue was in his mouth, her hips went back and forward in a delicious deep fuck that terminated in yet another swish and crack of the cane.

He was fucked senseless with the only reason he didn’t come being the hard strokes of the cane but he couldn’t take any more without coming.

After just eight hip thrusts and cane strokes he had to pull back and say, ‘Mistress I’m about to come,’ as he kept his cock out of her. Just one more hip thrust and it would be all over.

The woman let him go after a quick kiss on the lips, ‘Good boy,’ she said. Then, ‘I’ll just give you a crisp six of the best for that otherwise it would have been two dozen.’

So saying she moved away then nothing seemed to happen for a few moments till there was the swish of the cane and again his butt bladed. ‘Yahhh,’ he said in a long loud grunt.

‘Oh,’ said one of the women quietly, then seconds later the ball gag was back in his mouth, ‘perhaps that one shouldn’t count,’ she said from in front of him.

‘I quite agree,’ said the woman behind him. ‘Lets start again. Nice and hard.’

With that he got a six of the best caning, a best of breed he thought. Each stroke made him put his head back and stiffen, grunt into the gag and raise onto his toes. There was a delay of a dozen seconds or so and then the cane would whistle to crack down hard.

When it was over the mistress was behind him, whispering into his ear quietly, ‘That’s your reward for not coming. This is my reward for letting you not come.’ He felt a hand run over his chest for a moment as she stroked him, then up to his face. ‘By belt,’ she said quietly.

There was a small delay as he heard movement behind him, then nothing for a few moments, then a loud crack just before his thighs just below his butt blazed. It wasn’t as deeply cutting as the cane, he could feel that, but it sure did sting so it must be her belt then.

Then only seconds later the belt returned to the same place, then again and again till he’d had six in this painful spot. Each stroke had lifted him more and more into his toes as it got in, the leather cracking down loudly.

Then there was a pause for moment, then the belt returned to a new place on his thighs, lower and suddenly painful. This repeated, time and again for six hard strokes, a moment of delay, then another six lower down till the whole of his thighs were burning hot and stinging like mad.

The mistress was right behind him again, and into his ear as her body was against him, ‘How was that? Did It take the heat out of that cock and put it into your thighs. How about we get you ready for my friend.’

With that he heard footsteps and running water. Seconds later something cold wrapped his cock quickly taking it down to be just a little erect. Fingers moved over it then the condom was removed, and a hand ran over it gently, then wanked him a little quickly stiffening him up. He gasped into the ball gag, pushed his hips forward but the hand left him, leaving him shaking slightly in his need.

There was a moment of sound then he felt the hand return and again he felt a condom put onto his cock. The other woman smelled different to the first, and this time she was against him. Into his ear she whispered, ‘We’ll put you onto the bed then I can ride you properly. Remember, don’t come unless I let you.’

Strict and Stern – Bitch – Goddess

The Dominatrix Mistress

Easily forgotten is that the dominatrix, the mistress, is a real life person with all the variability that implies.

She will listen to what a client wants then she will try to provide it. She will have likes and hates, and have some empathy for the slave.

Here is my take on over 15 years having BDSM sessions with professional mistresses. Make of it what you will.

I feel rude categorizing people like this, so accept my apologies if you feel that also. I meanno offence. But this is my own feedback and suggestions – right, wrong or indifferent. It may help.

Some Broad Types Of Dominatrix

Overall, the true dominatrix is unattainable, on a pedestal, someone to be obeyed and revered.

She is mistress. She is to be obeyed.

The true professional dominatrix will seldom offer sex with herself but she may invite a service provider for that if you ask (politely).

That said, there are a few broad categories of dominatrix I have encountered.

The Bitch Goddess.

If you want a humiliation session, a session that extends and pushes, an “open ended” type of session, a judicial then she is perfect. She will give you a cold caning to make you shout then power into an extended corporal session.

She will be empathetic and use that to ensure you are well pushed, extended.

When you speak to them in the pre-session discussion, they are sharp, directed, to the point and with little else discussion other than finding out what you like and don’t like. Think of this dominatrix as a doctor who specializes in kink.

She defines unattainable and she demands respect and politeness.

I have seen a few like this and I’ve found them maybe a little intimidating but they are very good. One in particular gave me possibly the best pre-session discussion of all.

In the session they can be very strict and stern making the slave do exactly what they want, often with sharp commands.

After the session they can be a little remote, a little almost subdued now that your time with them is over.

The Princess.

This kind of dominatrix is reasonably rare in my experience.

This is the mistress who has drifted into BDSM and pretty much does it mostly to suit herself. She may not have much empathy for her client. She can be a little remote.

She may or may not give a good session, it all depends on your communication and how well it suits her.

Bonding with this mistress may work well if you can do it. The session will be mostly about herself and if you can engage with her and bring her into the session, it should help.

The Professional.

She does BDSM as a job. She is quite common in the industry. Often she may be a student, nurse, a mom wantring money. She may just need a job, she may have fallen into it and keeps on doing it. She probably doesn’t do much or any BDSM in  her private life. She will probably drop out of doing sesisons in a few years.

She’ll generally try hard to make the session work and have you return.

She should have good empathy as after all that is part of being professional and getting you back.

Engaging with this type of mistress should be fairly easy. Listen to her, find out what she likes and try to make your sessions work for her. Engage her with sensible and polite interaction before, during and after the session and it will work out well.

The Lifestyler.

This mistress is more common and I find them great.

She’s been into BDSM for years and shows an experience and aptitude for it. She likes it. Her role play in the session will be excellent and she’ll work to make the session a success.

She can be almost any kind of mistress in the session as she has lived it all. Her strict and stern, her playfulness, her fun in the session will usually all be there to choose from.

The Fun Professional.

My favorite and very similar to the lifestyler. She may be indistinguishable from the lifestyler but she may be a bit more enthusiastic, maybe a little more empathetic.

She is enthusiastic, she gets it, she is into it, she enjoyes interacting and making it work.

She got into BDSM for whatever reason and she likes a session that is a little more light hearted, she can interact with the slave a little more, she can get right into the session and enjoy it.

She participates. She may hate you saying “just do what you think” as she wants to make it fun and make it work. She might not be that great at guessing what you want.

Of all the mistresses, this one will smile more in a session. Her eyes will glint when a particular thing works well in the session.

In the pre-session discussion she will be animated and lively and suggest things that will most likely work well.

She can be strict and stern, she can be the bitch goddess, she can give heavy or light sessions but at heart she wants to enjoy them, and you too.

After the session she’ll be happy and wanting feedback to know how the next session will be better.

The Reluctant

I’ve had a few of these. These mistresses do it for the money only and it has become boring or tiring or demeaning. They don’t really identify or there may be something keeping her back, making it difficult.

Some mistresses have been abused, treated badly by either clients or in their personal life and that makes them understandably reluctant.  Some I have spoken to make it clear that the BDSM is something they do because it resonates with trauma in their life and they struggle with it.

Sometimes this kind of interaction happens when you ask a mistress for something she doesn’t like all that much, but she does it anyway. I’ve had that a few times when I’ve made booking mistakes.

The Escort Dominatrix.

I have zero experience with this kind, but I have seen their adverts on web sites. They offer some BDSM in addition to their escort service which may be whatever they describe. For them it is a secondary thing.

I suppose if you are wanting sex with some kink, then this may be ideal.

Interacting with Mistress

If you want a good session then communicating with mistress before the session is critical. No revelation there hopefully.

Remember mistress time is valuable so being clear and concise is best.

Before the session, being clear, using the precise words that describe what you are wanting is essential. Do not assume anything – and particularly if sex is wanted.

More than once I’ve written down a list of things I want to ask for. I don’t give it to the mistress, rather I use it to reinforce in my mind what I’m after.

For me, meeting the mistress is exciting and a little stressful. I can struggle to get things in order and it is easy to forget something or feel embarrassed about it.

During the session it all depends on the type of session. You may be gagged in which case communication is limited. You may have a humiliation session, maybe a fetish session, maybe a CBT or water sports. All are different.

I can only give my feedback with heavy corporal and bondage.

That said, a good mistress will be able to gauge how the session is going by your reaction to what she is doing. More than once I’ve been gagged and getting heavy corporal and my eyes give away how I’m feeling. I might rise up onto my toes, I might shake and quiver, I flinch, but a smile behind the gag, a glinting eye, pushing myself back and presenting myself are all great feedback.

If mistress asks a question then ‘yes mistress’ and ‘no mistress’ generally work well.

There are exceptions where it is up to mistress to decide.

A classic was my first session when mistress asked “have thos hands had enough strapping slave” to which I answered “yes mistress” as they were red and shaking. I was a bit surprised at what I’d had already. Her answer was as it should be, “wrong answer slave, it is as mistress wishes. HANDS UP” then she gave me another six of the very best.

Remember, it is as mistress wishes.

After the session, being open and honest about what worked and didn’t helps. If you are not going to see her again, then some simple thanks and a quick escape has worked for me.

For a mistress I want to see again we can discuss things for a while and she can learn from that.

What About In The Session?

A good mistress will be anyone and anything you want. It is up to you to communicate that (and to choose wisely).

A dominatrix at the end of the day provides a private theater for her client. She performs, she listens and interacts, she make the session work and consume the slave to slake his needs.

However there are limits.

Above all else, read the mistresses bio carefully.

Session Training Story – Part 1

It's Been So Long - Session Training

He booked the BDSM session then decided to check his gear. He had a great collection of belts, straps, tawse and even a stingy 22 lash leather whip. It was all kept out of the way, hidden in the shed. While his wife Melanie knew of his BDSM sessions, she was of the sort ‘don’t ask, don’t tell.’

As he was cleaning his gear he wondered how it felt. That was silly really, he’d been strapped by all his implements so many times that nothing would be a mystery. Heavy corporal was his thing.

The thing was, it had been a year since his last session. So putting out his left hand long and flat, he gave himself a stroke with his Lochgelly tawse and WOW that stung. He collected himself, then gave himself another. That too challenged him to the max as did stroke number three.

That was his limit he decided. It was just plain excruciating, the XH tawse earning its extra heavy rating easily.

‘That’s going to be an issue’ he said to himself. Mistress was going to use his gear and the way his hand felt after just three strokes meant it would be super hard to take.

Pulling up all his courage he put his other hand out then gave himself three on that one.

‘Damn’ he said quietly. His hands were red and stung like crazy after just three medium power strokes each.

As he cleaned his gear he wondered how the session would go, how would he be able to take the corporal mistress gave him. He had a full week left before the session and he knew he would be worring about it all that time.

Then he had an idea. ‘I should go into training’ he said quietly to himself. Then he laughed at the image of that… ‘training for a tawsing’ and laughed a little more. But it stuck in his mind.

Finishing up he put the gear back in the shed then thought nothing more about it. Till the next day.

Scheduled Training

Every afternoon Melanie went out, usually for shopping. Usually it was for the evening meal, sometimes it was for clothes. She liked to get out and he didn’t mind. Sometimes when she wasn’t shopping she went for a long walk to get her exercise, so there was always an hour of privacy to be had each day. On the weekends she often had a girls afternoon at a cafe or restaurant so he had time then also.

So that afternoon was the ideal time so he did it. He went into the shed then got his Lochgelly three tailer. Putting out his hand he gave himself three which hurt like hell. Then he gave himself three on the other hand. That too hurt. ‘Damn’ he said to himself.

‘I need more than that’, he said to himself. Mistress was going to give him so much more.

He rubbed his hands, he went out and ran some cold tap water on them which helped. That cooled them down so he thought ‘lets go again’.

Then he went back into the shed and repeated. So now he’d had six to each hand. They were now red and quivering a little and he though, ‘that’s a good start.’

But then he added, ‘That’s really only a small start’ he said quietly as he replaced the tawse. And it was. Mistress would give him a few dozen at least.

He exited the shed then decided he would repeat every afternoon.

Practice Helps

On the second day he repeated after Melanie left and this time he was able to give himself the three to each hand, shake them a little, rub them, then repeat. No cold water this time.

‘Better’ he said, and it was. He was able to take that a little better.

On the third day he repeated again and gave himself six in a row. ‘WOW’ that still hurt like the devil but he got through it.

‘Getting used to it’ he said but in the back of his mind was they were only medium strokes, mistress used the tawse a lot harder.

Then it was clear with that in mind, ‘I need more. Maybe some in the morning when she’s having a shower’ came to his mind. He could get double in a day and his palms would be ready for mistress.

On the forth day he did just that. Melanie hit the showers, he went into the shed and hit his palms six times each with nice hard strokes from his XH tawse. That left them red but it had an effect.

Then in the afternoon when Melanie went shopping, he did a repeat.

‘Double sixers’ he said to himself that evening as he was chatting with Melanie she commented that he looked happy with himself and he was. ‘All going well sweetheart’ he said as he kissed her, they did get along well.

All Change

On the fifth day he woke up, he and Melanie had breakfast then she went in for her shower.

He went into the shed then got his tawse. He put it over his shoulder, put his other hand out then brought it down harder than before. He was getting used to this, so using it a bit harder came naturally. ‘Crack’ it went making him gasp just a little.

He then repeated it. He took his time. He focussed on the palm and the leather tawse in his hand to the exclusion of all else. That was the way, in a session nothing else existed.

Therefore he didn’t hear anything else. So,  just as the tawse was coming down Melanie put her head into the shed as it cracked onto his palm and he gasped. ‘I’ve been wondering what you are up to and seeing this, I still have no idea. What’s going on,’ she said with a look of concern on her face.

His heart went into his mouth. Damn. Caught. He couldn’t lie worth spit so he spelled it all out.

‘Sweetheart, I’ve got a BDSM and corporal session booked in a few days. You know, I told you about that. Well I haven’t had anything for a year and I was wondering how I would take it. The answer is badly so I’ve sort of, ah, um, gone into training. I’ve been giving myself a tawsing with this every morning and night. I think it’s helping.’

She walked into the shed then looked at the tawse, looked at his hand. ‘It is red. How many do you give yourself,’ she asked surprising him.

‘Six in the morning and six in the evening. To each hand. That’s two,’ he said feeling totally stupid and over sharing. But she was hard to resist when she questioned him.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘show me,’ and that surprised the hell out of him. He was hesitating so she nodded at him, ‘Go on, I want to see it. Do it.’

He sighed, ‘OK,’ then raising his hand he gave himself the third. ‘Ah,’ he said. then he gave himself three more and each made him gasp a little each time.

The thing was, with Melanie there he’d gone even harder than he had been so they stung more. Something in him wanted to show her he could take it, something said he had to make it real. The end result was that his hands were now much more red and they sure did sting.

‘Other hand’ Melanie said sweetly. ‘Go on,’ and this was a new side to her he was thinking.

Putting the other hand out he repeated. It too got its six and that left it red and shaking a little also.

‘Pass me that would you,’ she said eyeing off his tawse. He handed it over then she ran it through her hands, feeling the leather.

‘It is a nice piece of leather,’ she said, ‘I’ve never thought about this. And so thick and stiff. I bet that hurts. Show me your hands, side by side,’ she said as she held the tawse.

In truth this was feeding his fetish, seeing her with the tawse but he obeyed.

‘Oh they are red. How about I give them another six. I kind of feel like this, doing it. Lets go inside,’ and with that she turned and led him into the house, the tawse in her hand by her leg moving as she walked.

He didn’t have a choice, the idea of declining felt more embarrassing that going along with whatever Melanie had in mind. Melanie could be forceful when she wanted and this was one of those times.

Melanie Doubles Up

Melanie didn’t just walk into the house, she walked into the bedroom.

‘Now, how does  mistress do this? You’ve never really told me,’ she said sweetly as she ran the tawse through her hands.

‘Ah, darling, she makes me kneel then I hold out a hand then she straps me. Then I have to swap hands and she does it again.’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘why the kneeling thing?’

‘Ah, um, because I have to look up at her and see her with that strap in her hands and I have to focus on it when she brings it down on my hand. It’s very difficult.’

Melanie looked at him, she ran the tawse through her hands, then she looked up, ‘OK, kneel then. We’ll make this a proper training then.’

This was getting a little out of hand, he just stood, ‘Are you sure. This is not like you at all.’

‘Darling,’ she said, ‘I thought you were in the shed wanking off and now I find this. I think your hands should be strapped. Kneel,’ she said pointing to the carpet at the end of the bed.

So he did. Then he held his left hand up, level with his head just like how he did in a session.

‘Good,’ said Melanie. ‘I presume mistress stands in front,’ then she did just that.

‘What now?’ she asked.

‘Mistress flicks the tawse, that’s what the strap is called, up onto my palm, pulls it back, puts it up high over her shoulder then brings it down along the palm and fingers.’

“OK,’ she said. She flicked the tawse up making it land on his palm. She’d always had great hand eye coordination and now it was going to come in handy.

‘Like this,’ said Melanie as she pulled the tawse back, then raised her hand high over her shoulder with the tawse hanging down behind her.

His eyes were wide as he took her in, the visage of a disciplinarian giving the tawse. She made his throat almost close over as he said, ‘Yes.’

With that one word she swished the tawse down along the length of his palm and fingers, making them suddenly explode in sting. ‘Ahh,’ he said as he waved it. ‘Ow.’

And he meant it. She’d used it harder than he had, the crack was louder the the sting deeper. It was only natural he thought, self strapping really was difficult to do properly as it was from the wrong angle and with the best will in the world, it would never be as hard as someone else doing it.

‘Five more,’ she said sweetly. ‘Get that hand up.’

This was a new Melanie. A new melanie with an XH three tailed tawse.

He lifted the hand, watched Melanie as she raised the tawse over her shoulder, then when she brought it down it took all his will power not to move his hand, to accept the leather.

Melanie strapped him with the XH tawse for a total of six times to the hand so hard he couldn’t believe how hard well she did it. By the end, it was bright red and shaking more than when he did it. Much more.

‘Does it always shake like that,’ she asked as she looked at the red hand in front of her.

‘After that tawse, always,’ he said as he tried to absorb the pain and now show how damn painful it was.

‘Good,’ she said smiling as she ran the tawse between her hands again and again. He was thinking it was over when she said, ‘Come on. Other hand up. It needs its six.’

Finishing Melanie Off

Melanie gave him six to his other hand and he could only think of them a six of the best as they sure were.

Each stroke lashed down the middle of his palm and along his fingers, pushing the hand down and making a crack that mistress would have been proud of. Melanie was getting the hang of this tawse awfully quickly.

After that both his hands were bright red and about strapped out – they would really struggle to take more.

Melanie was smiling at him. ‘So,’ she said, ‘that’s your training then. Is that all or do you do more?’

‘Ah,’ he said unable to hide anything from her, ‘well, I’ve been giving myself a sixer in the evenings when you’re out shopping.’

‘Oh. OK,’ she said happily, ‘we can go again then.’ Then she stopped for a moment, ‘Have you been wanking as you’ve not been that interested in me lately. I wonder, are you using that time to crack one off?’

She was being unusually direct and with her holding the tawse, he was completely unable to lie. ‘Well, sometimes.’ The truth was, most times he had a wank.

‘In that case,’ she said, ‘I think six each hand becomes twelve in the afternoon and we’ll see about that wanking. For now,’ she said, then she opened her dressing gown then sat on the end of the bed.

He was stunned as he watched her. This was a whole new Melanie, gone was the slightly introverted lights always off for sex Melanie.

She opened her legs wide and suddenly he was looking between her legs. She had a nice pussy and up close and personal as this was, it looked inviting.

‘I think you can make me come. Right now. Get at it.’ To make the point she lifted the tawse and waved it at him. ‘You know what I like,’ she said, ‘make it a good one. Fingers and tongue. No comes for you.’

Indeed, it didn’t take long at all as she was clearly aroused and her climax was certainly a good one from the noise and the shaking she made as she crested.

When it was over he realized he had a hell of an erection. He started to gently pet his wife right where he’d just a minute before his face had been.

He was stroking her gently, making it erotic for her when she saw right through him, ‘No way naughty boy. No come for you till you get back from your session.’

Then she pushed his head back firmly. ‘Up you get, I’m having a shower. And no wanking. No wanking at all unless I do it for you.’

All he could say as she stood then embraced him was, ‘OK sweetheart.’

She smiled, ‘And what do you say for me helping you with your session training?’

‘Thank you sweetheart,’ seemed best.

The Afternoon Training

He was feeling pretty much desperate for a wank by the time the afternoon came around and Melanie was due to go for a shopping expedition. This would be his chance to pull out the old snake and give it a rub to crack a load out as he looked at some bondage porn on the net.

He was sitting thinking about that when Melanie stopped her preparation for shopping and looked at him. ‘Why are you looking like that? Have you got something planned?”

He tried to look as innocent as possible, ‘What? No. I was just thinking about doing some jobs.’ And he had, he was going to lighten his load dramatically and with maximum effect.

Melanie looked at him again. Then she realized, ‘Ah. I get it. With me out you’re going to wank off again. No. Not going to happen. These sessions of yours, what happens?’

With that he was again in the headlights, transfixed by her stare and almost psychic questioning. She quizzed him about what gear he had, how it was used, what he enjoyed. After five grueling minutes she had a full picture.

‘I see. In that case I have the ideal solution. Go get your gear and bring it into the bedroom. Quickly now.’ she said.

Minutes later Melanie was digging through his gear then pulled out three longer belts.

‘Trousers off, boxers and shirt off. Lay on the bed face down,’ she said holding the belts in her hand.

He was suddenly sporting a massive erection which she noticed. Seeing his Melanie with a fist full of belts was right on his fetish, on the money, exciting him. Right then and there he could have mounted her for a massive poke he knew would be a winner.

But Melanie had other ideas.  ‘And that won’t get any use,’ she said as she flicked a belt end against his throbber making him jump then lay down on the bed where she pointed to, ‘Quickly now’ she said.

As soon as he lay down Melanie leaned down, put his wrists behind and in the middle of his back then wrapped a belt round them and buckled it tightly. Seconds later she did the same to his ankles and then his knees, and now he was naked face down on the bed. She’t put him into a very nice belt bondage position and he was kind of liking it.

‘That’s better,’ she said as she stood up. ‘No wanking possible now and I don’t want to see a stain on the bed when I come back. Or else.. See you when I get back. We’ll do some more strapping of those hands for your training I think.’ she said as she walked out the door.

He lay on the bed feeling the straps wrapping him, keeping him totally immobile. He lay in the bondage, drifting, thinking of the image of Melanie with all those belts in his hands and he felt his erection answering those thoughts.

Laying in bondage he heard Melanie walking through the house then  the sound of a door close.

She’d gone. He lay on the bed feeling the lovely bondage.

Then some short time later he heard footsteps again then Melanie returned. ‘I got into the car before I realized something. We’ve been training your hands with that strap. What about your butt? Doesn’t that need training?’

He lay wondering where that was heading when he felt it, something laying on his bare butt. Something cold. Something he guessed was leathery and going to be painful.

— to be continued. Maybe. —