Making me bleed

The day before yesterday, when little S had gone to sleep, I was out in the kitchen sewing. Mistress came out to me, and told me to finish what I was doing, and then report to her. I finished that part of my project and went to the bedroom. She was laying on the bed reading, and when I stepped in, she told me to undress and get down on the bed.

The thing is, written like this, it sound so somber, so dangerous, stern. In actualitie, it's not. It's warm and cute and full of laughter. There's no doubt that she's the boss and that I will obey her, and that is easy to convey in writing. The underlaying love and humor and general warmth is harder to get through. But it's there, always.

She told me that she was going to give me a hundred strokes with the rattan, in segments of 25; the first ones easy, and then harder and harder. And then, if she felt like it, she would just continue to beat me. "But I think I'll have to restrain you first" she said, and I answered "Yes please Mistress!". It's so much easier and less scary to be beaten when I'm bound up, especially if it's hard.

And when I was laying naked and chained to the bed, she proceeded to beat me on the ass with the rattan, and I breathed in to the pillow and tried not to move. At the end the strokes came hard and fast, and eventually she switched to the smaller rattan and just kept on hitting. By then I was gone, floating on the pain, having no desire for it to ever stop. And then, after a particular stroke, she said "Finally!", and put down the rattan. She turned me around and fucked me until we both came.

Afterwards, on her arm, I asked what the "Finally!" had been all about. "Well" she answered "I wanted to make you bleed, so I beat you until you did. I took awhile, though, and I wanted to do other stuff too." I nodded, and sighed happily.

There's something in her very calculated, deliberat way of handling me that just makes my heart melt. A true romantic!