Bluesy Bruisy

This will sound weird, but it was a gentle playtime. He’s always hard on my tits (both nipples were PURPLE when we parted!), and my belly, but the ass is always up in the air.

No, not like that.

Oh, okay, maybe sometimes like that.

ANYWAY…

I was bent over the bed, and his hand thunks down on my ass. Gods, I LOVE his hand thunking my ass. It hurts, hurts a LOT, but it’s also freeing, you know? I know you know! My ass is glowing, and it hurts and there’s this thuddy deep ache. And I’m flying, soaring through the fire and into bliss.

Can’t tell you what happened next because truly I was zoned the fuck out.

At some point I’m on my back and he’s been slapping my tits and thighs with this fucking wooden spoon, and I’m gasping, and then his fingers are inside me and I’m moaning because now my pussy is getting sore, tender and sore, and I’ve already had orgasm after orgasm, and then I come again, hard, twice more. He traces my lips with his wet fingers, ordering “Taste yourself” and then he starts slapping my pussy. I come just from that, a pain-induced orgasm.

He makes me a deal. If I can make him cum with a blowjob, I am done being beaten. Good thing, too, as our time was shorter than usual, and I was getting perty danged sore by then.

For a long while I wasn’t sure I could do it. But my hand was under his thigh and I could feel his muscles quivering. Finally his hand presses my head hard against his crotch, his cock in my mouth, my tongue busy swirling, sucking, swirling…and i feel his belly lurch, feel the sudden tightening just before he groans.

It’s a powerful feeling, to hold a man’s orgasm, to cause it. Not in a domme way, just in a slutty way. There wasn’t a power exchange, but a passion exchange. For this moment in our time together, I was giving him pleasure with active intention, rather than pleasure by his choices and actions upon my body.

Does that make any sense?

Yes, he made the bargain, but it was me who did the deed, so to speak. He certainly gets pleasure from my cries of pain when he slaps me, or pinches me, or when he forces me to cum repeatedly. (Fun at first, but after, definitely torture!) This is a whole different thing, where he isn’t the Verb in the dynamic…I am. I’ll let you ponder that one before I go off on a pontificating tangent, which I’m already in danger of doing.

So back to my original thought. After playtime, I had one very obvious bruise on my tit–it was already deeply purple, as were my nipples. I was too high to feel any of the deep pain..it was all endorphins by then. The next day I wake up feeling AWESOME.  I’m dazzled by the bliss I’m feeling, and get dressed.

Wait.

What the fuck…

I look in the mirror, where to my shock, my belly is peppered with pinchey bruises! Some are quarter sized, others are bigger or smaller. All from his bedamned fingers! I’m still feeling good, but now amazed as well. It’s been three full days, and those bruises are not going anywhere anytime soon. He pinches hard and deep…and long. I have to beg for him to let me go…he loves that.

And yes. I’m still high on endorphins.  It’ll be summer before our next playtime, but I’ve got this little glow inside that should hold me for a while. Unlike candlelight, this glow is purple. Blue. Going to blue-green. And it hurts, sooooo good.