The Taunting of Pain (or How to Entice a Painslut)

We talked about how long it’s been.

It’s been a long long time.

And He is very sure that He’s going to be ramping up Master’s Pain Delivery System…”Toy’s you haven’t seen in a long while, slut.”

I don’t answer. My mind flashes to all these overlapping images of His naughty black toy bag (I should start calling Him Doctor Pain, really–it’s one of those kinds of bags.). It sits on the bed at our meets. Sometimes I am bid to sit or lie on the bed, already semi-blotto from pain/orgasm overload/tickling. Sometimes I’m on the Wall and can only hear the various sounds of the toys as He removes them, one by one, and lays them all out on the spare bed. A clink. A rattle. A soft hissing sound. The purr of a vibe. The cracking swish of thin wood kissing the air.

It’s enticing.


“Time for that Special Bag to reappear, nilla. It’s been a long, long time…”

I don’t answer right away. My head turns over His inventory, yet I’m not remembering any special bag.

“uhm….what “special bag” are you referring to Master?” I ask, hesitant and nervous. This is about the time I feel the teeth of the trap grab me up and hold me tight…

“You know the one!” His voice is filled with sadistic glee.

“Uhm….to be sure, M, I don’t.”

“The special bag.”

“Master….” I start, but He walks over my protestation.

“From your friend.”

Uh oh. I DO know this bag. He must be joking. I hate that bag. I do I do I do (then why are you so wet, girl, says the other side of my brain, the painslut who is giggling with glee)

“Oh uhm…Master, that’s not my favorite ….”

Once more he cuts me off.

“The whips and floggers need some time, nilla. They’ve been in that bag a long time and need to taste your flesh.”

I hear the hunger in His voice, the joy and glee.

I feel the hunger for that pain inside, (that nasty little cunt is all but rubbing herself in glee)…but there’s that fear factor too…what if I can’t…

(of COURSE you can, says the painslut. You want it, crave it, need it. Life has been dull and gray without it, and suddenly look! Colors! Blue and green and joybliss…HE gives us that, with those slick promises…)

And she’s right.

I need it, crave it, want it.

But I’m still a wee nervous too. (those toys hurt like fuck-all!)

(yes, I know it’s supposed to hurt.)

I like the bliss…it’s just the getting there that has me a feeling a wee bit of trepidation.

(and danged if that doesn’t make me even wetter!)


14 thoughts on “The Taunting of Pain (or How to Entice a Painslut)

  1. I sorta know how you feel…it’s only been a week for me, and He had me wet and needing a permission just by talking about how we celebrate His homecoming later this week. I protested about it will have been almost two weeks….He laughed and asked how wet i was just hearing Him describe it…….Enjoy the anticipation…but even more….i am rooting for your meeting.
    hugs abby

    1. The words…how they turn us on. I will enjoy every moment of the anticipation…and looking forward to being on the “flight side” of the pain…. 😀


    1. that “spaghetti” flogger hurts like…like fuck-all. That one is the worst. Well then there’s the “S” strand one where the rubber is cut thick…yeah that one packs a whallop too..very very stingy…

      You Doms and floggers…. 😀


      1. Oh no. .. no no no. Please let wolf hold onto those toys. .for they are precious. And you know. …rare. yes. Special and. . And. .uhm… his. Yeah. Don’t want to deprive Wolf of those special things. But thank you! So kind to offer.

  2. Nilla,

    Wolf had me try every one of those before he’d let me say “That one’s for Nilla.” However, there are still some here. Plus Armageddon. Be glad. Be very very glad that he decided that Armageddon did not need to leave his side. (shudder)

    And you know you’ll never get rid of that bag…

      1. oh.
        well…see…that smile makes me VERRRRRY nervous…unless of course you mean that you’re going to gift Southern Sir with any “finds”…now that I think would be a *fine* idea!

        (that smile still makes me quiver tho…beware the smiling Dom…)


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