28th March 2012
I am covered in bruises from the weekend that are tender to the touch. My shoulders are stiff from being hung by my wrists for so long and my neck is sore from where my high collar rubbed at me. My body is constantly reminding me of what I am and what he did to me. When I remember those moments, the sounds, the paddle, the people, the winch, the flogger and the cane snake I find myself drifting off, closing my eyes and letting it play over inside my mind and in response my body twitches and despite all the aching and soreness I can feel a slow burning throb to be used again in that way is already starting to build within me.
I have my period. A new ache has been added to my body. My breasts are tender and sore and my womb is crampy. When he pins me face down to the bed I can’t help but moan in protest…. “Oh please Sir, not now” but deep down inside my body betrays me because I can feel my pussy twitch in anticipation of his touch and that even though every single part of me feels like it has been broken somewhat I can’t help but arch my back, spread my legs and offer myself.
Every thrust of his body as he take pleasure in my cunt causes me to moan in of masochistic delight and even though parts of my body protest at the rough treatment of my now fragile shell I can’t help but enjoy it. The way the bruises on my arse start to throb as he pushes up against them, the ache in my neck as he presses my body into the bed, the dull cramping pain of my womb and his hard cock driving into me all combine into a silent roar of contrasting sensations that flood my body and make me feel so very alive.
I hear the sounds my body, the wet squelch of our bodies as my juices and blood combine together between us. The pain shifts and becomes something more intense than that and I let it take me, fill me, consume me with its power and as my pussy starts to contract and pulse round his cock he groans into my ear, growling lustful words at me as he cums too.
Afterwards I stand and admire the view in the mirror, the deep dark bruises look so powerful and the blood, my blood, glistens on my arse and between my thighs and I can’t help reaching round and trailing my fingers over the bruises, lightly pressing them to feel that sensation just one more time and then down into the sticky mess that is me and a shiver of delight rushes through me. I am so very alive. I feel so very… woman.
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