A Tattooed Hand

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Earlier this year our stars aligned and we were gifted with a kid’s free weekend, glorious summer weather and no other commitments and so we gathered together food and drinks and headed off to our favourite naturists/swingers spa near Heathrow. We were even so organised that we arrived not long after they opened and managed to snag ourselves two sun-beds right by the pool.

Now there are rules about what you can wear at this venue and the rules are that no clothes are permitted. Everyone must be naked. Yes you can fling your towel around your waist when you are wandering around but no bikinis, swimming trunks etc. It is open all year round and out of season the pool and one of the hot-tubs are enclosed in what is basically a great big heated greenhouse, the other hot-tub is under a shelter but not enclosed and so you can sit in the bubbling hot water with the sound of the rain on the roof of the shelter. Despite all that it remains a summer only destination for me and I mean actual hot weather summer days too which means we don’t go that often.

We settled down on our beds, both dug out our books and laid back completely naked and relaxed. During the day we went for numerous swims, he fingered me to orgasm on the sun beds and once in the pool and I gave him a hand job in the pool. We ate our picnic, drank our drinks, read our books, talked, laughed and relaxed. It was a day of utter bliss only improved upon by the amazing spanking session we also had there.

At the back of the property there is a converted stable which is known as the Dungeon rooms. It houses a series of different rooms and equipment, a spider-web, St Andrews Cross, Stocks etc. No matter the weather it is always fairly warm in this building and on sunny days it turns into a bit of sauna. I was surprised when he picked out the room at the back which has a cage round the bed; I really thought he was going to take a pass because of the heat. I love the heat but he hates it you see but I was not going to complain and so I laid down my towel and took my position over the end of the bed with my bottom sticking out of the cage. He had bought the Bircher with him. It is one of my favourite impact toys and so I wriggled my bottom happily at him for which I received a first strike that made me yelp.

One of the other things about this place is that it attracts a lot of single guys who some people often refer to as ‘the wanky men’ because if you do anything particularly sexual they will crowd around often lazily, or sometimes frantically, stroking their dicks. The dungeon is their favourite place for this because it is fairly dark and so within moments I could sense the bodies starting to appear. Now I like being watched especially like that, by random unknown people, but I don’t really like looking at them, not in the face and so I will glance through half-open eyes to see them there but then close my eyes again and let my head get lost in the moment. Rinse and repeat.

I don’t know how long he used the Bircher for but eventually he cast it to one side and replaced it with his bare hand, going to town on my already red and sore bottom. I don’t know if it was the heat, the fact that I was being watched or that the Bircher had been good preparation, mostly likely it was the combination of all three, but the more he spanked me the more I wanted and the harder he spanked me the more I lifted my bottom up for more. I could feel the sweat running down my side and moisture sticking my thighs together. My heart raced and my skin throbbed and it just felt so damn good.

Now I love a good spanking but Michael has a slightly special skill when it comes to spanking. He suffers from Partial Congenital Analgesia which only affects his arms and hands and means that the pain receptors in those areas don’t really work. He also has trouble judging temperature too which means he often has burns on his hands from touching hot pots when he is cooking. It also means that at no point when he is spanking me is his hand going to start to hurt which means I am nearly always the one who gets to the end of my spanking tolerance before him. This was to be a rare exception.

What stopped him? In the end it was the heat and he did admit to a slight feeling of tension in his shoulder, which I have come to learn would probably in you or me be the muscles screaming in distress but to him is a slight sensation of tightness.

I was giddy from the high; my bottom literally throbbed as we made our way back to the pool. The warm water caressed my hyper sensitive skin and I floated about in his arms with a big grin on my face. Soon his hand found its way between my legs and I came again, pressed up against the wall of the pool.

It was only in the car on the way home that he noticed something on his hand.

“What’s that?” I asked, glancing briefly over before returning my eye to the road

“I seem to have blood blisters on the palm of my hand from where I spanked you”

“Really?” I giggled in reply “That is so amazing, hold it up so I can see”

I grinned all the way home, it is usually me with the marks, and the next day I did discover that my bottom was well bruised but this was the only time he has ever come away with some marks of his own. He had spanked me so hard and for so long that he had fucking blood blister on the palm of his hand. It took over a week for them to fade, and every day I would take his hand in mine and trace the marks left behind by that day and remember one the hottest, both literally and figuratively, spanking moments we have ever shared….so far!