Below is my email to Sir right after.
The crop is hard and fast. Hitting my cunt and clit. When sir says to cum, I come in the same matter, hard quick, an orgasm for every slap.
Every first experience is the best.
Then the holding, the praise of good girl. Being able to cuddle and the knowledge of his pride at my need for pain. He completes me. He knows my needs and what my body and souls react to much better than me.
I thought I would be afraid of it. Sir knows that he can train me to cum with just the sound.
I was bent over the slave station. Whipped on my ass. Fuck I love that feeling, I came over and over. He whips me knowing it’s what I want. He gives it to me because I am his good girl.
After I collapse on the floor, unable to speak or move. Sir is so kind and gentle with me. He gets my soft blanket covers me, makes sure I’m ok, mental and physical.
I’m writing this from a semi/Slave state
I have so much more to explain to you sir.
The sound as it breaks through the air is wondrous. Before sir used it he cracked it in the other room. The first time I heard it my body quivered. I wanted to scream to him “please sir” begging him to use it on me. Beg him not to stop to bring me over and over to an uncontrollable frenzy of an o. My problem is never knowing my limit in that state, always begging to get more. I love the pain that much. I need it that badly.
The whip is by far my favorite, it is the one thing that most scared me,. I know now it was because I needed it so badly. It makes me feel owned. The pain is sharp and lingers. I turn that pain into the most intense pleasure. I could cum right now with just the sound of it.
Sir said he could train me to do that, I didn’t believe him. I really need to learn not to doubt what he says. But the experience is something no words can explain.
The welts are beautiful. Sir took a picture so I could see. Their not like bruises, nasty and discolored. They are dainty, fine pink lines. They look perfect on a woman’s ass. I would find myself light touching them. Getting a quick jolt of good pain each time. It was so sad(from my soul) when they faded.
I want to be able to let the last bit of me go. To cry and cum, to loose that last hold on my brain side, to give into only the feelings. This is what I have the most trouble with. I’ve cried before, but not the way my soul needs to. The whip is what I believe can make this happen. I long to be tied up spread eagle and to feel that pain from the single tail as it hits me. To collapse still standing. I want the feel and emotion to roll over me like a Mack truck, unstoppable.
The problem with crying is most definitely a carry over from my prior d. He made me cry, he hurt me badly all in the name of what he saw as bdsm. It was not. When I cried for him he got harder. His eyes changed, he scared me so badly that I hold back, afraid of my tears.
Sir is not like that. He makes me feel secure and cared for. My tears are a gift I want to give to him and I know I will be able to soon.
We waited, we meshed, we built trust. All amazingly important things when starting a “sane bdsm” relationship.
There were times it was torture. I just wanted to feel him. To be held on his lap, to hear that all important good girl. To hear him moan when I pleased him.
I agreed to something so far removed from my normal character. He said it was an experience he never had. He would come to my house. I dressed as directed collar, royal blue waist sincher , black dress, heels, bare legs, ankle and wrist cuffs, blindfold. The house would be lit by 25 candles. Soft music playing. Door unlocked me kneeling and waiting for him.
I prepped for days, cleaning, shopping, more out of nerves and need to set a perfect scene for him. Even giving myself an enema prior to his arrival. Edging over and over as I prepped for him, knowing it was all to make him happy.
One glass of wine before he arrived.
I knelt, getting wetter and wetter. So wet there was a literal puddle on the floor.
He came in and asked me a question about my friend. My voice changed, I didn’t realize it, but he did. He lightly slapped my face. We have a think/feel something say it agreement. He apologized for coming in and asking about someone else. That slap was needed, as I don’t realize when things affect me sometimes.
Sir inspected me. He grabbed me and kissed me, telling me to cum. After 500+ edges I came, I came hard. Since I was in a blissful slave state for most of this time I can’t recall everything and the time frames may be mixed up.
I think he put my chain on, he clipped my hands together behind my back and crawl to him. I begged for his cock(not sure if it was verbal). On my knees, dripping, all feeling no thinking. His cock in my mouth, heaven. I licked and sucked and pleased him as best as I could. Then he came, I swallowed.
Afterward I told him most truthfully that was the first time a man came in my mouth.
When he took the blindfold off I was greeted by the happiest warmest face. I said “sir, it’s finally you, you’re really here”. I was over the moon happy.
I served him a snack of all of his favorite food. We talked and laughed with me on his lap, discussing how my service of his cock was unplanned (not totally, but the length and result of it) and both agreed we thought he would cum with me bent over the slave station.
We had a nice talk. Both so happy the waiting was over. He complimented both me, the household and food selections.
I believe my most favorite nipple clamps were applied at some point. I can cum just thinking about his tug on them. We at some point ended up in the bedroom. He claimed my slave hole and it was magical. He at no point did he make me nervous.
I know my slave state matched the intensity of my orgasms.
We fell asleep in each other’s arms, perfectly fitting together, sir and his slave.