Bruises and Bliss

I was watching my friend Paige getting fucked by a machine when I tottered over on my 5 inch heels and literally ran into a stranger. Not taking my eyes off the action I murmured "So sorry" in his direction. 


But once the machine was off and Paige was being cuddled in after care, I noticed the stranger hadn’t stepped away. The length of our arms were still touching.  This (of all things) felt strangely intimate in a convention center sized dungeon full of writhing and moaning bodies, so I turned to look this man up and down. “Oh, hello!” Was all I could manage as I likely wore a full body blush.


Even in my Domme-ish shoes, he was taller than me and a delightful ginger beard framed his grin.  There was a flogger casually tossed over his shoulder, as if in offer.  My whole body ran warm.


We made small talk while watching another woman get fucked with a power tool—totally casual as you do--neither of us bothering to move away from one another. I wanted to do something with this stranger but I wasn’t sure what.  I wasn’t even sure which side of the Top/bottom spectrum he fell on.  He was being coyly vague against my subtle questioning, and I was still unsure if I wanted to boldly just ask to play.  That is until Paige, freshly fucked and giddy came bounding over to gush about her fucking machine experience.  She waved her own new flogger playfully it at me. “Careful, I’ve been topping all night, I could use a beating, don’t tease me woman.”  I said flirtatiously.


The hot ginger perked up at this. “I’ve been looking to find an ass I could really open up on.”  That sadistic twinkle in his eye made me wet.


“You have my attention!”  I demurred, stepping out of my shoes.


Now I had a slutty mostly naked lass, glowing in post orgasm bliss and a hot unfamiliar man that had my nerves standing at attention, both of them offering me pain.  Instead of choosing I tried: “Is it my turn to be the slut?  Why don’t you both beat me?”


They nodded excitedly so I found a spanking bench to throw myself over, ass in the air and waited. My friend was gentle, almost giving me a leather massage over my back and ass. The hot ginger was next, he was a little firmer, making me sigh with his flick of the flogger.  Eventually one of them forced my face into the bench so I couldn’t see them out of my periphery and soon lost track of who was hitting me.  Quickly I went loopy and left reality, giggling at the pain as the endorphins flowed. 


Paige’s voice was in my ear as the beating continued, then I realized the man was the only one hitting me now, “It looks like you’re clicking so I’m going to wander away, or do you want me to stay?”


“I’m good, but thank you.”  Paige: best wing-woman ever!  I could hear her laughing to instantly get into new trouble outside of my view. 


The hot ginger leaned in closer now that we were alone (well as alone as possible under the circumstances) and I could feel the heat and heft of his body on mine. His body fully clothed in a black dress clothes and mine nearly naked, only a tiny thong to protect some small part of my modesty. As he swung to hit me again, my back reflexively arched into the pain. He pressed a palm into the small of my back to keep me in place and continued, a silent demand that I not move.


As the sting of the flogger across my ass and thighs increased and his hand held me more firmly, keeping contact and thus me in the moment with him, I realized with some wonder that I wasn’t tied up.  I was taking this beating without any sort of bondage, an odd thought for the rope slut. My bag of rope was across the aisle near my friend, it never occurred to ask for it.  This was heady and strange, I never play without some form of restraint. Instead of this taking me out of the moment it dropped me instantly deeper into a blissful bottomy head space. I was lost to reality and eager for anything he had to give.


He lay the entire weight of himself on me, letting me briefly feel the firmness in his pants across my side. It was erotic but not sexual, he wasn’t going to fuck me, he just wanted me to know he was enjoying himself as well.  As I realized he was gently respecting my boundaries without taking me out of my headspace to ask questions, I fell further under his sway.  He was good at this in a way I'm not good at Topping yet, it was impressive.


This man was so warm and heavy that I lost my breath and sighed in with a gasp as he stood to give me a sharp thwack with his flogger that made me lift my ass from the bench to process it.  His hands were on me again pressing me down, I could hear his inner beast growling “Down! Stay!” And I did, melting into the bench to center myself. 


The beating became more intense, the flush of my ass turning into a constant and beautiful throb. He added his hands and a cane to alternate sensations and leave me guessing at what he would dole out next. Sometimes the thwack of the cane was too much and I pondered asking to stop. But he would pet me back down into the bench, soothing me with his fingers and nails, fondling my breasts until I had processed the sensations and was ready for more.   


It had been far too long since I’d had a good beating and I especially needed this excuse to let go after spending two days furiously holding onto control while Topping others.  I love doling out pleasure and pain but it doesn’t come as naturally as masochism, I long for the swimmy swoon of being taken but I trust so few people that it doesn’t happen often any more.


So I felt pretty fortunate to have tripped on this man.  By the time he was done with me I could barely walk.  We hugged and I committed violent acts of kleptothermy before letting him out of my arms with a smile and an “Anytime you’re in town and wanna do that again…”


Back in my hotel room my hot roomie for the convention and I exchanged stories of our evenings, traced one another’s bruises and fell asleep cuddling in an exhausted endorphin soaked pile. 

Emily BinghamComment