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The Magic of August
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: the magic of August
Hi everybody...!
Just thought I might entertain somebody by narrating a few scenes
of these last few nights. I'm very unsure of my English and the
interest of all this for others, so please let me know if I'm boring
you or not! It's that I have an old debt with a.s.b (and a specific
couple of delightful switches, they know who they are...:-), and
I thought, I can't "pay it back", let's try to "pay it forwards"...!
Aug 2 was our 12th anniversary of marriage; my parents kept the
kids at their home for a few nights, so I and Alex could play at
will! And we played, with knives and candles, clothespins and whips;
my breast got a lot of attention, my clit got whipped, then I was
branded. Alex got waxed, lots of his hairs pulled, and he also
got more whip than ever before...
But I've rushed ahead of myself as I sometimes do, so let's take the
several scenes in some order (not all in one night, several nights
rather). My Master had been slapping my breast, talking to me
sweetly. Then he said, "It's red enough -- either I stop now, or
I get the crop; which will it be?". I couldn't speak at the time but
my moans and the arching of my torso toward him were clear enough --
the crop came out! A BEAUTIFUL horsewhip, a perfect instrument for
delivering the EXACT amount of pain desired...
The blows were of medium strength, although I felt each as painful as
anything, and after each he gave me all the time to relax myself again.
When I was ready for each next blow, I offered myself to it, as to a
lover's sex. This went on and on, I don't know for how long...
After an interminable time he ordered me to stop squirming and stay
perfectly still. The knife came out.
We had never done anything *serious* with knives before. But THIS
time, I found out that - I - LOVE - KNIVES - ! He didn't want to
cut me, and didn't, really, just left a thin red mark all over my
body, and the pain of course wasn't strong; the knife was SHARP,
and his hands so firm and sure... the thin purple line traced my
arms, legs, thighs, flanks, then the stomach, slowly, EVER so
slowly, finally stopping in the middle of my breast. At that point
I was crazy with desire, I almost disobeyed and pushed me against
the knife!, I even cried a muffled "Yes, Yes, Yes".
But he stopped anyway - "No more - not this time".
But I'm sure that soon I'll have my skin cut, I don't know on which
part of my body, perhaps the back. I dream of the pain, although
he says it won't be that much as he plans to use a sharpened blade;
of the blood flowing; my flesh yearns for the blade as a virgin
for her bride...
Then, hot wax. I used 2/3 of a long candle on Alex's shoulders and
chest; he liked it a lot and kept saying "Again" and "More" -- it's
incredible how piggy he can be! Also incredibly wonderful, sweet,
offering himself to me, with love-filled eyes... I ADORE my slave!
I planned for the rest of that candle to then get into my Master's
hands, and drip its hot wax onto me. Unfortunately, I didn't enjoy
that part of the scene AT ALL, indeed I still wonder why -
my fault, I'm sure (although my Master keeps telling me it must
be HIS fault instead). Later tonight hot wax will have free reins
over my flesh again, and we'll see.
The crop is still our favourite toy. Alex keeps telling me that he's
more robust than me and needs stronger strokes than I do, I didn't
think I was holding back anything but apparently I did... because THIS
time I didn't, and THIS time I made him cry with pain! How SWEET his
tears are -- I had enjoyed them in some heavy emotional scenes, but
never from pure, phyisical pain. I tell you, it's addicting!
Most of the time we roleplay as heavily as we play phisically --
haughty Lord or Lady, humble slave, humiliation, kneeling,
whip-kissing, and all that, and it's great, of course. But often
lately we do instead these scenes, particularly the heaviest ones,
without this emotional "prop", and it's just as wonderful, just
different. (I still call him Master anyway, but that's because he
can *teach* me, as well as *own* me...:-)
Then the target of the crop became my sex, and for THAT we slipped
back into our usual dense domination/submission mood - just great!
The crop allows perfect control of the amount of pain inflicted --
it's the only kind of whip which can really be used on genitalia,
I think, except for VERY light ones. My legs wide open, his left
hand pinching my breast and holding my neck and occasionally
strangling me slightly, his right hand with the crop hitting softly,
but steadily with a slow but inexorable rhythm... boy WHAT an orgasm
that gave me! And the following fuck with my clit SO terribly and
excquisitely sensitive and all the area still numb with pain... YUM!
Then, ah!, the brand! It's my second one. My Lord kept his golden
ring on the flame, holding it with a handkerchief, until he found
it sizzling-hot enough when testing it with his wettened finger.
Meanwhile we were talking sweetly, he described to me how my skin
would burn and be blackened and split, and the flesh under it...
I wasn't EXACTLY following the precise anatomical details, I was
rather in orbit! He also explained what disinfectant he would use
later, and how he would apply it, and why not *right after* the
brand, and so on. The feeling of total TRUST I got from knowing
He knew exactly what to do and when and why...
Then he said it was ready, and to prepare myself. My hands were
free; I stuffed a large, soft handkerchief in my mouth, to avoid
biting my tongue or getting jaw damage from involuntary clenching.
Then I arched my back and crossed my arms behind it, to immobilize
them against spasms.
I looked at his eyes, so sweet, so full of love and cruelty. He
kissed my flank, then draw back, got his fiery ring, and pressed
it onto my flesh. And pressed. And held it there, for ten
seconds. He counted them slowly, aloud.
Then he removed the ring, which was almost cold by this time anyway
(he told me later), cleaned it with his handkerchief of any residue
of burnt organic matter from my body (and later disinfected it), and
put it aside. Then he turned to me, giving me his full attention.
He removed all bonds and helped me free my arms from under my back.
He says I had no tears in my eyes -- maybe the pain and the schock
were too sudden, maybe it was the endorphin high he had given me
earlier... NEVER did I feel so happy before in my life, although it
isn't *short* of happiness by any measure! I was also "in orbit",
as I said (pardon my lack of words to describe that state, but those
of you who are into this sort of heavy play surely understand me).
A brand's scar must be treated accurately for many days. As any
serious burn, it develops a sort of bubble, it blackens, then it
reddens, then it becomes purplish, over several days. Washing and
disinfecting must be performed at the right times if you don't want
to ruin the later scar... I don't really follow all details but Alex
fortunately follows them all for me!
Oh, BEFORE that, I had apparently managed to find a weak spot in my
slave for the first time... you see, he had told me that the brand's
severity (hotness, duration, etc) would have been proportional to how
severe I managed to be on the preceding scene, me topping him. Well
it appears that if I use hot wax on a hairy area of skin and let it
cool down and then remove the wax with my nails, not fast and clean
so wax and hairs come out at once, but SLOWLY, WORRYING the wax and
the hair and the skin with it... well if I do this, I can really get
him to WHIMPER and PLEAD. The heaviest whipping never reduced him
to THAT much of an emotional wretch...
We went to Venice (with the kids) for one day, and I was (and am!)
still in pain from the brand. How beautiful the Piombi cells are,
so small and terrible... and the "Slaves' Bank" (Riva degli Schiavoni)
near S. Marco... and to top it all in Palazzo Ducale was showing
the "Delizie Dell'Inferno" ("Hell's Delights"), a special show of
pictures of Hyeronimus Bosch and his school -- the "Inferno" picture
itself is absolutely OUT OF THIS WORLD (:-). Mere coincidence of
course, including particularly the Saint Michael figure, the Angel
with the Sword, fighting Demons in the center of Hell...:-)
Then yesterday I got my back whipped. Now this seems trite and normal
but you see I have arthritis and rheumatisms and my back is EXTREMELY
delicate [just my luck to get arthritis before I was 30...!-(], so he
never wanted to risk HEAVY whipping there these last few years. But
yesterday, he tells me, he KNEW everything WOULD be perfect, that my
muscles would be perfectly relaxed and smooth and strong and pliant
and protect my bones and things, taking all the pain themselves - IF
we did it as he suggested.
So we did -- he insisted we keep talking all the time, that I didn't
have ANY bond or blindfold, that we discussed together how strong
each stroke would be and exactly where it would fall and decide
together for the right timing for it... the opposite of the normal
slave/master scenes, but, it WAS effective. Took LOTS of time,
but I ended up with my back in a sorry but wonderful state -- no
blood of course, that crop is designed NEVER to break skin! -- but
apart from that, a raw mass of pain. I got a slight fever too, as
he had said I would.
Now the marks are less, but what remains is purplish and just TOO
beautiful! Now I must think of some new play to pay him back for
all the WONDERFUL things he's done to me -- [I don't understand
how some of you find it so easy to play with clothespins, which is
what I wanted to do, but I can find very FEW places on his body
where they will take and hold a long time, they seem to slip away
very easily from his sweaty skin...]
Well well, and on the 16 we'll leave for two weeks in the Alps with
all the family -- I really hope it will be as wonderful as last
year, mountain climbling can be the harshest SM play, trust and
power and danger and pain and fatigue... and the sweetest, with
the beauty, the love, the Mother Earth below us... See you all in
September then! Blessed be,
Leyla
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