Designing Intimacy

Just Get it Over With

Jefferson ordered me to turn over and I complied obediently. I waited nervously as Jefferson sipped his bourbon and put in a Portishead CD. (Is it cliche to get a beating with Portishead playing in the background?)

I watched Jefferson silently as he moved to the side of the room where he had previously laid out different lengths of rope. He picked up different pieces, finding the ones that would suit his needs. He pulled my one ankle down and to the corner of the bed. I breathed calmly as I felt him knot the rope around my limb and attach it to the corner of the bed. It was a little on the tight side, but I bit my tongue to keep from complaining.

My pussy dampened and my stomach fluttered with nerves as he tied down my other ankle.

My hair was loose that night, and kept falling in my face. I did my best to tuck it behind my ears before Jefferson got to my wrists. I watched Jefferson tie a length of rope around my wrist, winding it around and tucking the end through and knotting it tightly. It was different than how he usually ties. It was calculated and done like he knew what he was doing. He’d learned something!

He pulled my arm up toward the corner. I moved with his jerking, my body centering on the bed. My body relaxed further as he finished binding my last free limb to the bed. But I was still nervous.

At least he can’t torture my nipples, I thought to myself as I laid there, face down and spread eagle.

It felt like I was there for an eternity before I felt the first strike of his hand on my ass. I moaned and squirmed as he brought his palm down hard against my flesh. It stung. That, and his words from before still reverberated in my head. I fought my mind to let me slip under, into subspace.

Jefferson grabbed a paddle and started slapping my ass. I yelled and jerked up on to my hands and knees. I’ve never been good at bearing the sting of a paddle. But it hurt worse now that I’ve become a wuss. He paused in his swing and pulled my arms up further to keep my body tightly down.

I pouted as I felt the complete relinquish of control.

He went back to work on my ass. Tears started forming in my eyes as he alternated between the paddle and his hand.

Pity party…hmpf.

I struggled against the ropes, trying my best to endure the pain. I managed to loosen one of my ankle bindings. I froze as I let Jefferson retie it.

He ventured deeper into his arsenal picking up his cat and making me moan and sigh with each strike.

That’s what does it. That’s what sends me floating.

But I was quickly brought back with more smacks of the paddle.

I still had my 22 birthday smacks coming up, and I just wasn’t sure how I was going to handle them.

And as if he read my mind, Jefferson picked up his cane. That mother-fucking cane. God I hate that thing.

A fine sheet of sweat immediately broke out on my skin with just the first few light raps. My body twisted and strained as I begun to spew obscenities at Jefferson.

I breathed a sigh of relief as he stung my hip with the cat. Anything but that dreadful cane. I moaned, but in pleasure, as the cat came down against my back again and again.

He dropped the cat on the floor and came to me rubbing my back and giving me kisses. He gripped a bit of skin between his teeth and bit down hard. I bucked and cried out, but he held his ground, biting down even harder. I whinged, crying uncle. He bit down harder before releasing, and I wanted to scream, but had run out of breath to do so! I gasped loudly just as he bit down again. His marks were deep, bruising down into the muscle.

I moaned as he stood back up, pinching the bite marks as he did so.

Jefferson walked away and I heard the ice clink in his glass as he took a sip of his drink.

My mind drifted on the music setting the mood…

“Have I got the strength to ask
Beyond the window
I feel this fear alone”

I groaned as I suddenly felt Jefferson pour hot wax over my back and then sighed as it quickly cooled.

Then he went back to the cane.

I cursed at him, and tried my best to kick and grab at him, with each stinging strike.

“Thanks for the tip about tying you down.”
“Ugh! I hate you!”

And we hadn’t even gotten to the counting…

He kept tapping me- my ass, my thighs, even my feet.

“I’m going to start counting these!” I cried as he kept sending me into overload.
“No you’re not.”
“Ugh, just start already,” I pleaded.

He gave me a few hard whacks, for my brattiness I’m sure, before he instructed me to start counting.

5 strokes into it and I was ready to wuss out.

I made Jefferson wait and give me a few moments to let the pain sink in. He sat down to wait until I was ready to continue.

“I don’t know if I can do 22…” my voice wavered.
“Sure you can. You don’t have any other choice.”

He asked if I was ready to continue and I gave a weak affirmation.

I thrashed on the bed as he spaced strokes for me to count amidst easier taps, constantly keeping my skin on fire. I inhaled my hair as it hung in my face and I cursed myself for not putting it up earlier.

“Grr I just want to chop off all my hair!”
“Heh, aww poor thing.”
“You know…actually no, never mind.”
“Wise choice,” he warned me snapping another strike on me.

I worked hard to not loose count as he took breaks I insisted on.

The obscenities got worse as the count got higher. I wished him to burn in hell as he gave me two brutal strikes for 17.

“What’s significant about 17?” he quizzed me as he held the cane above me.
“Nothing…” I lied.
“You sure about that?” he pushed me, stinging my ass.
“Alright, alright! I lost my virginity!”

I screamed into the pillow as the second 17th stroke came down, trying to kick at him.

“Aww, this is the last song,” he noticed and went to go restart it.

“Now, where were we?”
“22?” I tried.
“No…”
“Ugh, 17,” I admitted, defeated.

18, 19, and 20 came down in rapid succession leaving me shaking with dry sobs taking over my body.

Jefferson sat in his chair tapping his cane as he waited for me to recover.

I just wanted it to be done and over with. I couldn’t take anymore. As my body recovered, I negotiated with Jefferson about the last 2.

“Just do the last 2. Just two single strikes. No tap-tap-tap in between, I can’t,” I moaned, on the verge of tears.
“You just want the last two strikes? No lead up?”
“Yeah, just do it and get it over with. At medium intensity…”
“How hard is up to me, but I can just give 2. Are you ready?” Jefferson asked standing up.

I nodded, taking a deep breath in.

He stood next to me. I tried not to clench as he took his aim. I screamed out 21 as he hit me square in the middle of my ass.

He gave me a few seconds before winding up for the last one. He hit me hard, high up on the ass. I screamed 22 then punched him the leg and yelled at him for hitting so high.

He rubbed my back and nodded in agreement that it was a little high.

“My wrist is a little tight,” I finally admitted now that it was over.

Jefferson undid all my bindings and took me tight in his arms. I squeezed him tight as I finally relaxed under his touch.

He talked softly as he instructed me on the rest of the evening. We’d rest for a little bit, but then we were going to have dinner, and I would be making it all on my own. I nodded my understanding.

We laid together silently and soon Jefferson started snoring. I smiled as he slept. I was the one that got beaten and fucked senseless, but it’s him that fell asleep.

“Jefferson,” I prodded him after a little bit. “Jefferson, let’s go eat.”

Part 1 and Part 2 , and finally, Part 4

All Things Sex, YouTube, birthday | Avah | April 27, 2007