His Fault

Just thought I'd start with something inspiring.

 

 

Musicman laughed at me when I told him it was his own fault, but it really was. Ya see, I had asked him how he was feeling. His reply was that his shoulders hurt. He thought that was my fault, but I very respectfully pointed out why it was his fault.

 

It happened last night, we were relaxing, watching some TV and hanging out. He started it, he's the one that murmured the magical words. Those words that have caused butterflies in my tummy for all these many years.

 

"Come here." 

 

He's said these words to me so many times over the years. Sometimes, I don't even get the words, just a finger, gesturing for me to come to him. Other times, he just reaches out and grabs me, pulling me in close. If I have any doubts about his intentions, all I have to do is look in his eyes. His eyes always say the same thing.

 

 "I'm going to consume you.  I will take you to heights you've never known. I will make you soar so high you touch the sun and burst into flame. I will touch your soul and leave my mark upon it. I will show you no mercy, and you will thank me for it."

 

He faced me toward the lounge, then walked away. I realized as I waited, I never look. Many spankings start this way for me. He puts me in position, then retrieves his implements of choice. He's not said I can't look, I just never do. I'm not sure why.

 

He returns and I see implements in my peripheral vision, but I can't tell what. He bends me forward and flips up my skirt. He starts almost immediately. I know from the first blow, he has the leather paddle. I still don't know what else he has brought and I no longer care. I'm lost in the feel of leather connecting with flesh. That moment of sting that explodes into pleasure, the reigning blows cause thought to cease as feelings take over.

 

The stress pours out of me, like air from a pierced balloon. I fly wildly about, too much energy to be contained. Leaning into the paddle as it drives me higher. Seeking, always seeking, that inexplainable place, where our souls collide in a dance that invigorates and nourishes.

 

I hear the words he's saying, burning into my mind. Aiding the ascent to oblivion, my only response, "Yes Sir".  Knowing that the only thing required of me at that moment, is to obey. The confusion of thoughts, lost to the pleasures of pain.

 

I'm on my knees, perched on the edge of the lounge. How did I get here? My body spread wide, open to his perusal, firmly under his control. I can do nothing but react as cool glass firmly invades. I push back, impaling myself upon the rigidness as he continues a running commentary of observations and directions.

 

His words play, like a symphony in my mind, as my body dances to his tune. He orchestrates my pleasure, leading the dance I know so well. Each crest surmounted, not given a moment to recover. He drives me higher, higher, higher. I feel the loss so completely as he withdraws, momentarily.

 

Ahh...there it is, the coolness, pressed against me again, a new place to explore. I experience no hesitation as he invades and begins again. From the back of my mind, it floats forward into my consciousness, I've become the wanton slut he desires. I will take the pain. I will take the pleasure. I will do as he directs, for his amusement.  I will beg for more as he invades and conquers my body as no one has ever done before.

 

When he is satisfied that I've taken all that I can take, he flips me over and begins his assault anew. I'm no longer contained within the confines of my body. His words, his actions, have moved me to another place. A place I seek to be, a place I glory in and beckon him to join.

 

It's so beautiful there, come with me as you drive me higher. We will fly free and experience the epitome of being. The next crest rises before me, my body contorts and is beyond my control. I shatter and don't even realize that screams escape me.

 

See, if he didn't do that to me, I wouldn't have inadvertently hurt him. He tells me, while I was lost within the fog, my body beyond my control, I hurt him. Apparently, I planted my feet firmly on his shoulders, binding myself to him as I flew freely through the ether. It felt great to me, not so much for him. I'd apologize, but I'm not really sorry. I never want to hurt him, but it's not my fault he makes me feel so deeply.