Push it

May 25, 2009

When I have a good block of time, I like to use a lot of different toys in one session. I usually start with my hand or studded paddle in order to get the blood circulating, then ramp up the severity with crops, floggers, saving canes (my favorite) for last. And I’ll usually use both the wide- and narrow-tipped crop, both the suede and leather flogger, and both the Delrin and liquid cane. I may dial it back down a bit if the boy seems near his breaking point, but I generally think of the canes as the high point of the session (I know he thinks of them as the worst part). I’ll end with flogging or maybe break out the paddle again.

(This reminds me: I haven’t used my hair brush on him in quite awhile.)

We started out play using the number system (with 1 being ‘is someone hitting me?’ and 10 being ‘stop hitting me!’) but decided to forgo an official safe word or anything like that. The boy assured me that he would tell me if things got to be too intense and I pay very close attention to how he’s reacting, checking in often (“How does that feel?” or “Are you OK?” or “Do you want me to stop now?”)

Besides the obvious, having a safe word (’10’, in this case) is also a kind of security blanket for the top as well. I don’t have to worry about modulating at all, except to prolong the session.

Oddly, the number system started to control me to some extent. I would try to figure out which strokes would earn a certain number, or to stay at one number for awhile, how hard I’d have to swing to go up the scale, etc. Not that I was ignoring my bottom at all, but I’ll admit that I was getting caught up in this odd little game rather than letting myself flow into the interaction more naturally.

Nowadays we don’t play with a safe word. The boy assures me that he will let me know if things have become too intense for him. And I am now even more attuned to his reactions, posture, breathing, the flush of his face, the sheen of sweat on his skin. It’s easy to figure out when he’s near his limits. I have usually not pushed past them, afraid of going overboard, afraid that he’s too zonked out in subspace to tell me it’s too much.

The one time I did keep going, even after my (admittedly wimpy) instincts told me to slow down, he fell onto his hands and knees, growling and grunting like an animal. I’d haul him back up, give him another stroke and he’d collapse right down again. He was struggling to endure more for me. It was so fucking insanely, intensely hot.

But I wasn’t convinced when he told me I could keep going; not the first time and not the second. I did stop rather soon afterward because a) he could hardly stay in the position I wanted him to be in and b) I was afraid that he would never tell me to stop.

OK, mostly b.

I ‘cooled’ him off with the paddle and my hand, alternating a light paddling with caresses and kisses. This part is also a big turn-on. I love handling him like a piece of meat and after a beating, he is dizzy with endorphins, incoherent, incapable of doing much more than lying down or leaning on me. He’s so compliant. So…yummy. (Maybe that’s why I want to bite and bruise and suck him more after a good beating).

Later, he told me that when he came, it hurt a little.

Clearly, I need to do this more often.


One Response to “Push it”

  1. axe Says:


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