How to Use a Yardstick (Part II)

All those orgasms and the pussy whipping left me happy and hungry, and Sir D too.  As He points out occasionally, that’s actually a lot of work for Him, and of course that’s the truth.  Strange to discover myself appreciative of His willingness to pussy-whip me, so to speak, and yet, here i am.  Feeling a warm, fuzzy glow about it, really, and i’m not even being sarcastic. 

So we went out for dinner, had some lovely conversation, came home and relaxed for a while, and went for a walk.  Came back hot and sweaty, ready for showers.  Ho-hum vanilla stuff, but very pleasant.

As i’m getting ready to lie down, fresh, clean and relaxed, He says, “We haven’t even used the yardstick the way it was intended yet.”  And before i can say a thing, He says, “Roll over, come on, on your stomach.”

Of course, i do, roll over, and He says, “Up,” as He slides a pillow under my stomach.  Then i’m lying there, ass slightly raised, totally exposed.

The yardstick is on His nightstand.  He picks it up, whooshes it through the air a couple of times.  He’s behind me; i can’t quite see Him.  I hear Him slap it against His hand.   My pussy clenches. 

“O, yes,” He says, “I think this ‘ll be very sting-y.”  He swings it through the air full force, as if he were batting a ball.  Yikes.  

Then He leans close to me, speaking close to my ear.  “Have you done this before?  i mean, i know you’ve had, what was it?  A belt, right?  But this is going to be different, this is wood.”

And i wish i could think, i’m trying to scroll back in my mind, but in that moment i can’t even think back.  He’s right there behind me, beside me, i can feel Him there and that yardstick right there too,  so i just say, “No, No, Sir, i don’t think i have.”  

And then He taps it gently on my ass, gently marking where it’s going to hit me, and there’s just a little –

-Whoosh – and it lands right across the center of my ass –

“Mmpf,”

and He says, “What?  I haven’t even started yet.”   O, my.

He’s taking His time at first, each stroke landing in a slightly different place, letting the sting fade a little before He strikes again.    “You do redden up nicely,” He says.  He’s covered the lower part of my ass, and i’m whimpering and squriming.   “Wanna see?”

“Yes!” of course i do. 

So i jump up and look in the mirror.  Yes, the bottom part of my ass is  streaked with bright red.  Kind of  amazing.  Pretty.

i’m smiling as i lie back down, as i lay over the pillow, offer my slightly raised ass again.  This isn’t too bad.

And then it is. 

Well, maybe not too bad.  He’s not a sadist, my Sir.  But bad enough that i’m making little noises and He’s coaching me to breathe.  Just as i’m starting to relax into it –

– and what does that mean?  i don’t know, i just know that at a certain point, i want it, i want it to go on, i want to feel it all the way… and at the same moment it’s too much and i don’t know if i can take it… and i want it so much… and at that moment –

– He pauses.  i hear a “buzzzzzzzzzz” and His hand is under me, between my legs and Omigod, the vibrator is right there, pressed against me.  Pressed against my pussy, against my clit, in that most sensitive spot. 

AND the yardstick whacks across my ass.  Again and again.   Faster.  The vibrator buzzes, i grind my hips against it, against the bed.  Aaah, o, yes.  Whoosh, whoosh, the blows from the yardstick cover my ass.  Oooo.  O. Omigod.  Pleasure.  Pain.  It’s all mixed.  Omigod.

And i’m cumming, over and over, in the middle of it all, the pleasure and the pain so mixed, i don’t even know how to tell them apart.  O.

In those moments, i am totally His.   

And then He is done.  i’m drained, laying there in a heap, unable to move.  My ass is stinging, my pussy still throbbing ever so slightly… totally satisfied.   i could almost purr. 

He holds me.  “You did good,” He said.  “Very good.”  His hand is fisted in my hair.  “I’m pleased with you,” He says. 

And i do purr.  Totally content, totally His in that moment.  Mmmmm.

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The yardstick will have to be kept someplace special.  It’s been too much fun, in too many ways. 

Also, check out Nilla’s post today, if you haven’t already.  

http://vanillamom.wordpress.com/

She writes a piece that’s so much like a fantasy i’ve had.  It’s my follow up fantasy to the one Sir D brought to life without even knowing it in His dungeon.  Amazing. 

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Sigh.  Ok.  i was going to stop there, but i have a confession.  i skipped a part to the yardstick story.  Well, it’s not exactly about the yardstick itself, but.

Go back to when i was lying there, all drained and content, drifting happily.   Before He told me i did good.  Are you there?  Ok –

i hear a click.

i know that sound.  He’s taken a picture.  Of my ass. My bright red butt cheeks have been captured, ok, not on film, it’s his cell phone camera.  But still.  Digitally recorded forever.

And some part of my brain knows that’s a limit of mine.  There’s a blog piece on it.  https://beingaisha.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=59&action=edit  i wrote it.

And i don’t care.  i just want to see the picture.

It’s soooo cool.  My ass is bright red, all over.  Incredibly red.  i love it. i want to post it.  i do – i want to show youall  my thoroughly spanked, bright red ass.  i’m totally proud of it. 

I didn’t know i would feel this way.  i don’t even understand it.  But there it is.  My feelings have  a life of their own.

So in a few short months, i’ve gone from “Pictures?  O, never!” to “A picture?  O, cool, can i post it on my blog?”  Good grief.  Where will i end up????    🙂

Corrections

i got an e-mail from Sir that was titled “FYI”  It said :  

I read your latest blog  ..I liked the addition of the pictures   HOWEVER the battery used on you was an Energizer  (appropriately named, in my opinion)

 

Also, the ends of the ropes were taped with electrical tape before they were cut to prevent it from ravelling

 

The rope is 1/4 inch cotton sash cord

 

 

i stand corrected – Thank You, Sir.  

Pictures

i’ve been thinking about pictures since the other night, when i was bound so securely, when the chain between my legs was pressing hard against my clit, when He stood beside the bed and held His cock out for me to taste, and i could barely reach it, twisting on my side with my hands behind my back and… ok you get the picture.  

But i don’t – i don’t know what i look like chained.  

And maybe that’s ok too.   Maybe i just need to experience it and don’t need to see it.

i’ve been sure that i didn’t want pictures, for lots of reasons.   Sir and i have talked about it.  

After all, i really don’t want anyone to know about my sexual, um, activities.  He points out that the pictures wouldn’t have to show my face.  I concede, that’s true.  

Of course, at first i wouldn’t have trusted Him that much anyhow.   Not that i didn’t trust Him, but certainly not enough to take pictures of me engaging in sexual acts.  i didn’t want to be on the explaining end of a “what were you thinking????” conversation with friends or family.  i  figured that even if somehow people discovered the things i’d  been writing, i could explain it away, but a picture – not so easily.

“Do you have some kind of mark on your pussy that people will recognize?” Sir asked, and i had to laugh.  Of course not, mine is probably not distinguishable from countless others, and not that many people have seen it anyhow and really, no, of course not.  That’s not the problem.

“You don’t have to show your face you know,” He says.  But something about the idea of being a faceless body bothers me.   i am a feminist, you know, so how can i contribute to a world view of women chained and bound, gagged and whipped?  It just seems wrong.

But then i found this link on Discerning Dom’s website, and was looking at these pictures, and – i don’t know.  i like them.  I mean, look at this:

I can almost feel his hand pulling the panties down...

Or this one…

i can feel his hand coming down on her - my? - ass...

Or this one…

Notice her legs twisting - i know what that feels like...

(These all came from this wonderful website:  http://red.charls.free.fr/galeries.php?theme=La%20Place%20Rouge)

So i’m torn.  i want pictures of my self, all exposed and turned on, ass in the air, marks and all.  

And i’m afraid that i’ll regret it.

Sir doesn’t put any pressure on me, and has offered to never ask me about it again, but i don’t want that either.  Sigh.  i want the impossible.  i want pictures of me without any risk.  i want pictures that will be admired and appreciated, but that won’t add to a world view of women as disempowered or objects of abuse.  It’s confusing.  For now, i guess i’ll just keep enjoying the experience, and other people’s pictures.