Pain and Pleasure — NW’s Sadistic Side Shows

As mentioned in the prior post, we were both burning and yearning very intensely, from our discussions and the day’s goings on.  NW had told me, before she left work, that I was not going to be teased last night.  Knowing that, I hoped that she had something intense planned for me.  If all she had wanted was for me to pleasure her until she was exhausted, so be it.  But deep down I needed attention of some sort.  I was craving sensation.  In the end, literally, I got more than I had bargained for and hoped.

We both cleaned up and met in the bedroom.  We climbed on the bed and NW immediately positioned herself in a manner to which I have become accustomed.  She told me to make her come and off it went.  I spent several minutes with my head between her legs, working from her sex to her ass and back.  After several orgasms, she sat up and told me to roll over onto my back.

Once there, she told me that she had changed her mind and that I was going to be teased.  She also told me that she wanted to hurt me.  She wanted me to make the decision which was to be first.  It didn’t take much pondering to decide that I would rather end the night with frustration than with pain.  So, I told her that I would like the pain first.  With that, I was told to get on my stomach.

I was expecting the cane.  Actually, I was craving the cane and the intensity, even if too much, that it gives.  What I felt, though, was the belt.  It slapped and stung nicely.  NW made sure that it had enough force to hurt, but not near a limit.  Of course, with the belt, it takes a lot more force to reach that level.

After several whacks from the belt, there was a pause, then blows started again, with increasing frequency.  This time, however, it was the flogger that was raining down on me.  And not just on my ass, but my back, shoulders and flanks…with ever increasing force.  The dull, pleasurable thuds that started the flogging gave way to the stinging crack of the harder blows.  Then it paused again.

A moment later I felt the stiff, unyielding, though light, whack of the cane.  This was it.  She was going to cane me.  I craved it, and had been.  But, honestly, I feared it.  The last time she was punishing me.  I had no such motivation to endure, this time around.  Last time she was learning how hard the blows should/could be.  This time she started with a good idea of her desired force.  Even so, she had me rate each blow, 1 to 10, so that she could adjust accordingly.

This was somewhat virgin territory for us.  Yes, I knew that NW liked it when I squirmed in pain, at her hand.  That was usually in the form of CBT.  And, yes, we have played with spanking, flogging and caning before…lightly.  Now, however, she was about to cane me, hurt me, and for no reason but to satisfy her own sadistic desire to do so.  Furthering it was the fact that I perceive CBT, no matter how harsh, to be highly sexual.  Having my ass tormented, however, carries to such feeling.  It is naughty, yes, but not directly sexual and therefore, devoid of that motivation to endure it.  On this, my only motivation was that NW desired it.  That was going to have to be enough.

The first hard stroke fell and I blurted “seven”.  Several more blows fell and NW felt that my tolerance was not as high tonight as when I was punished.  I had thought the same thing.  Again, I think the fact that I was not being punished was making it harder to endure.  After a couple of more strokes, though, I found my groove.  NW was kind enough to let me somewhat recover from one blow before delivering the next…with a few exceptions.  She was more interested it being heavy-handed, marking me and prolonging it, rather than a burst of lighter blows that would quickly escalate beyond my ability to take in.

Soon all of the impacts were registering 8’s, 9’s and even some 10’s.  She became skeptical of my rating, thinking I was down playing the pain to keep her going.  So, she swung, in her words “harder than I ever have”, and the impact immediately tensed my whole body.  I cried out, “10!”  She smiled and said that she was testing me.  Of course, two blows later and I shrieked, “12!”, as the hardest force of the blow had hit my upper thigh, not my ass.  That, of course, is fair game.  But the hardest blows are intended for my backside proper.

She stopped and commented that it almost felt wrong to be so wet from hurting me.  She had me roll over onto my back, climbed onto the bed and mounted her throne.  Her weight pressed down onto my chest.  She slid her body forward and my waiting mouth locked onto her pussy.  She was not lying.  She was soaked.  Even moreso than earlier in the day.  I feasted.  She came.  She leaned back and moved her ass to my mouth.  I worshipped.  She came even more.  But she was not done with my ass.

Pics after the first round…


She had me roll back over onto my stomach and returned to the belt.  This time she focused more attention on the soft, vulnerable skin at the base of my ass, just above my balls.  Then onto the flogger again…back, shoulders, flanks, hips and ass.  She pulled my balls back and had me arch, to let them hang. Doubling the tails of the flogger, she began battering my balls with it.  Nothing extreme, but each blow enough to make me jerk.

Then she returned to the cane.  This round was not as long lived as the previous, but the blows held at a much higher level of pain.  Fully ninety percent of them were a 9 or 10, with the occasional missed mark well exceeding the goal of 10.

Several times she asked if I was okay.  She knows that I will go beyond what I “should” to give her what she wants.  I was okay.  I was prepared to keep going.  At the end, she would only hit me when I gave the okay, as every blow was at or near the limit.  I rushed myself, so that I was not slowing her down, and then she was sated.  My ass had been pummeled.  Even as thick skinned as I am, the marks were evident, especially from a tool whose impact is much deeper and not as superficially noticeable as a belt or lighter, flexible cane.

She consoled me, thanked me, soothingly rubbed me.  And I thanked her, sincerely.  She was sated…at least her want to hurt me.  I was sated, and my want of stimulation met.

Pics after the second round

She rolled back from me, onto her back, and I returned to pleasuring her.  First her ass, at it was offered again.  Then her sex.  I headily, lovingly and enthusiastically brought her to orgasm several times.

Once her need had been met, she rolled me over and began to work me over, as promised.  I was slow to respond.  My body was still reeling from the caning and, as I said, I felt sated.  In time, though, I responded and she stroked and sucked me to the edge.  She held me there for some time.  I was overly cautious in my feedback, as I was feeling so many things that I wasn’t sure how my body would respond.  No orgasm, no release, just minute after minute of riding near or on the edge.

When it was over, we lay there in each others arms…holding one another…kissing…and thanking one another for an incredibly intense and satisfying night.

Oh…and the morning after…

Follow-up to Last Night’s Punishment…Edited

Having had an evening to think about it, and the chance to converse with NW, I wanted to do a follow-up to last night.  For many of you, it would not be that significant at all.  It just comes with the territory of being submissive, depending on your flavor of submission.
As someone who is normally the one doling out the punishment, and has never been punished, in scene/session/whatever, though, it is a big deal to me.  It is also not insignificant to NW, since she has never punished anyone like this…definitely not me.

From my side, as I previously posted, I felt guilty.  I am one of those folks that my word is as good as gold.  And even though I didn’t do it for any nefarious reason, I had broken my word nonetheless.
I wanted to be punished for that.  Psychologically, I needed to be punished for it.  While I have felt that way whenever I did not keep my word, it has never been over something as simple as touching myself.  And it was definitely not corporal punishment at the hands of my wife.  But I wanted it and, on some level, needed it.

I would be lying to say that I was not incredibly apprehensive.  Having chosen the cane, there was a bit of fear in how it was going to play out.  I was prepared to accept whatever she deemed sufficient, though.  There would be no protesting, no trying to escape.  I did this and it was time to suffer the consequences.

I never would have thought that I would feel that way, in this role and framework.  We must be doing something right.  I very much felt subject to her.

And when I rolled over, I was leaking precum copiously.  Since I was not stimulated at all, and was given nothing but pain, which hurt, I can only guess that I had become extremely aroused by the fact that NW was punishing me.  What a pleasant surprise!

But there is a flip-side to this.  How did NW feel about and perceive it?

She said that she felt a little silly, when she was setting up and waiting for me to get in the room.  But that, once I was in the room, it felt completely natural and serious.  Again, during our talk today, she expressed that she felt I absolutely deserved to be punished and that she had the right to punish me.  She said that she thought it would feel weird to do it…but it didn’t.  In fact, she said that it felt like it was the right thing to do.  (I am leaking just thinking about it)

I asked her if it made her feel powerful.  She didn’t like that word.  She said it made her feel like she had authority…was in control…and had an absolute right to the feel upset and displeased and to carry out a punishment to reinforce the rules and allow me to pay for my transgression.

She did all of those things.  She did them wonderfully.  She has come so far so quickly.  I am a lucky man, even with a still sore ass.
And I like feeling/knowing that I can turn myself over to her.

Edit:  I meant to add what our “cane” is.  It is not what I typically think of as a cane (the long dowels you normally see in videos).  This is a piece of 3/4″ quarter round moulding that is tightly wrapped in a single layer of black electrical tape (to protect from splinters).  It has  pretty good weight to it and the impacts are felt fairly deep.  It isn’t flexible at all.  So, when it hits you, it doesn’t give.

Suffering NW’s Wrath…A Well Deserved Punishment

Tonight I had an experience that I have never had before…at least not since being a child.  I received corporal punishment.  It was deserved.  NW, somewhat to my surprise, was more than up to the task of doling it out and even enjoyed doing so.

You see, last night, when getting ready for bed, I couldn’t get a nagging issue out of my head.  So, I decided to test a theory and see if it would turn out as I suspected.  To test this theory, I had to stimulate myself…basically masturbate with no intention of having an orgasm.  That, of course, is not allowed.  It was weighing heavily enough on me, though, that I decided to do it anyway.  I wasn’t doing it to be defiant.  I wasn’t doing it for pleasure.  I, very seriously, was looking to see what the outcome would be.

So lost was I in observation that I didn’t immediately recognize that I was starting to hit the edge.  I did catch myself, though.  I immediately stopped the stimulation and braced myself to resist the orgasm that I feared was coming.  (I have discovered that I  can seize myself and prevent the convulsions/spasms of an orgasm.)  It never happened…not a single contraction.  The orgasm had been averted.  What did happen, though, has never happened to me before.  At the same time that the urge subsided, I felt a sensation as though the lower half of my urethra had suddenly filled!

The valves had released.  I had just inadvertently, and for the first time ever, been milked.  I expressed the fluid and it was fully semen, but without an orgasm of any sort.
I did not share it with NW, as she was already asleep.  And, honestly, I didn’t want to disappoint her.

True to my word, though, today, I explained to her what happened.  I told her that I felt really guilty, and that was/is the truth.  I also said that I understood that this was absolutely a punishable offense and that I was prepared to accept whatever she deemed proper.

As it turns out, NW did not count one offense.  She counted three…1) I stimulated myself without permission…2) I had an unauthorized emission…3) I failed to ingest that emission.  On number three, I knew that I was supposed to eat any cum that exited my body without permission.  But that has always been in the bedroom.  So, it didn’t even cross my mind.

When it came time for me to receive my punishment, she told me of the three, not one, infractions.  Also, that I had a choice.  I could get five blows from a leather belt, for each broken rule, or three strikes from a cane.  Even with the more numerous blows, I suspected that I could endure the belt more easily.  So, I chose the cane, as I really did feel guilty and felt that the cane was a more suitable punishment.

NW strapped me to the bed, face down, with a couple of pillows elevating my ass.  She then declared the violation I was being punished for and delivered the three strikes for that violation.
A she had never caned anyone before, especially not me, she started out with a moderate stroke, for which I was thankful, since I, too, knew she was unsure how hard to swing.  Each strike was harder than the next.  She proceeded to violation number two.  The strokes fell harder.  Then, on violation number three, I really began to feel the pain and burn.

Afterwards, we talked.  I was very surprised at my, not only acceptance, but longing for the punishment…as though a sort of atonement.  I have definitely never felt that before in a sexual situation.  But it felt very real.  My only disappointment was that I didn’t feel that I had been sufficiently punished.  That, of course, it not my decision, but I did convey the feeling.  I think she too felt that, not necessarily the punishment, but the experience had been too short lived.  So she had me roll back onto my stomach and told me that she was going to start light and increase the force each time.  I was to rate each blow on a scale of 1 to 10.  1 was no pain and 10 was the most painful I could endure for no more than two, non-back to back strikes.

This went on for a while.  Once she hit a 7, there must have been ten or twelve more strokes before she hit a 10.  And at least three were what I deemed high 9’s.  And then it was over.

NW allowed me the reward of giving her several orgasms through analingus.  I didn’t deserve it, but she has needs too.

As I have said before, I am a difficult person to mark, but this ended with my ass welted and reddening.  I am not sure the pictures do it justice.  I can assure you that I am very much aware of what my ass was subjected to, as I sit here typing this.


Lesson learned?  Well, the guilt I felt had already ensured that I would never do that again.  The punishment just helped drive it home…and that NW is definitely taking charge.

Impulse Speed, Mr. GH…

Yeah, yeah…  For some reason, I have my geek on.  Not sure why all the space references, but that’s what’s coming through.  In any case, we are off into virgin territory.

A couple of things…

We had a rather tame day, yesterday, except the way I ended our one true “get together”.  NW and I carried on as usual.  She teased me up and I was quickly as hard as a rock.  She mounted me.  She had orgasms.  I did not.  It didn’t take long until she had to dismount me, lest I reach orgasm.  NW is getting a tad frustrated with this, as she really loves and is craving prolonged intercourse.

Afterwards, she edged me several times.  The edging is really intense, anymore.  This really wound me up and I vented it the first way that crossed my mind…caning!

I had NW stand next to the bed and bend over it.  I retrieved a “cane” from the closet.  This particular one is a heavy, plastic cane.  It is, in fact, the stick that comes from a large set of blinds.  I have no idea what it is called, but it is the piece that you twist to change the angle of the slats.  This one is pretty stout.

I started moderately whapping her ass.  It was obvious that it hurt like hell  So, I reached in and gave her pussy a manual assist to orgasm.  Then I started alternating…finger to orgasm, five good strikes, finger to orgasm, five good strikes.  Her ass striped quickly.  She was in immense pain from the cane.  Yet, she continued to orgasm, even as she, literally, tried to get away from it.  She tried to stand up.  She tried to roll away.  She tried to shield her ass.  I was having none of it and held her down…fingers to orgasm, five good strokes.

She took about twenty-five strokes before I stopped and gave comfort.  She confirmed that she hadn’t wanted the pain, but couldn’t stop coming.  Also, she confirmed that she was glad I had held her down and forced her to take it.  It is good to know one’s partner.

Later, in the kitchen, she pulled my cock out of my shorts and worked me to edge.  Again, last night, at bedtime, she stroked me to several hard edges, as I fingered her to orgasm, multiple times.  What I have noticed of late is that my edges are taking on a new edge, so to speak.  Once I am edged, it is as though I am pressurized…balls tight and drawn up, shaft straining, prostate aching.  There is also a continuing…uh…vibration, maybe.  It feels like a low, almost imperceptible rumble, that lingers.  Where NW, in the past, could edge me, pause for 15 seconds, and get back to it.  Now, she can wait a minute, or more, and I still almost orgasm as soon as she begins again.  It feels great!  It feels maddening!  But it can cause problems.  After all, it is hard to play with a cock, in denial, when it is constantly on the verge of orgasm.

Somewhat akin to this, NW made a statement, yesterday, that caught me off guard.  The first part of the statement was, “Assuming that you don’t have an orgasm this week,”.  She was not saying that she might want to give me an orgasm this week.  Oh no.  She was saying, “assuming you don’t require an orgasm, based on a physical or mental need, on your part”.  She fully intends for the denial to go on, unless I can’t handle it.

“Then I think we should try giving you a ruined orgasm one morning this weekend.  So that we can see if you can last longer, with intercourse, by that evening.”  Not only is she talking about keeping me denied of a full orgasm…and rather thoughtlessly, but she is talking about introducing ruined orgasms.  Not as a means to sate me, mind you, or to prolong the denial of full orgasm, but to allow for her greater pleasure.  How yummy is that?  Many of you OC/OD folks are used to this, I am sure.  I am not.

I am onboard.  I really want to see what effect ruined orgasms will have on my ability to continue on this journey.  Thirty-two days and counting…

A Fantasy Fulfilled

It was a busy day, to say the least.  It started with CBT and ended with a fantasy fulfilled, for NW…and myself as well.

During the course of the day, NW, several times, cornered me and provided some much needed t&d.  Every time she did this, however, it led to CBT.  She was very much in a mood and wanted to see me hurting and know that she was causing it.  So erotic, in a really twisted way.  This involved squeezing them, as a pair and individually, taking them into her mouth and sucking/pulling them, slapping them, hitting them with the back of her hand and punching them, in a controlled manner.  The pain was exquisite.  She has really learned how to drive me to the edge and hurt me in a manner that allows the pain to be pleasurable, at the same time.

More than once I was writhing in pain, right at the cusp of what I could endure.  Were it not for my ability to thrash about, grab things and maul NW, I don’t know that I could have endured it.  My balls are still, hours later, aching and buzzing from it.

To get to the main point here, however, we go to the evening.  We retired to the bedroom and warmed one another up.  Petting, stroking, tweaking, just driving up want and arousal.  At this point, we started diving into NW’s fantasy.  It started with her on her back, legs spread.  A flogger was used to caress her body and warm it up for what was to follow.  The strokes became harder and she had a few orgasms from it, as I directed the flogger to her exposed pussy, after having reddened her breasts.  The orgasms were part of the plan.  I needed her heady and wanting, if we were to push past her limits. 

I had her roll over and started on her ass.  She lifted it, to meet the flogger falls and to expose her pussy to it.  More orgasms and harder strokes, until I was flogging her as hard as I could.  The pain was obvious and she was teetering on the edge of finding no pleasure in it.  But the flogger was not going to be enough.

I swapped to the cane.  Oh how she hates it.  Twelve to fifteen hard strokes later and I abandoned it.  Her ass was crossed with welts and bruises.  Those always make me nervous.  But I had given her all that she could willingly handle, so it was a good stopping point, for the cane.  Throughout all phases I checked with her, made her look at me and confirmed that she was okay.  I, intermittently, provided her orgasms, to keep pleasure involved and to, hopefully, take the edge off of what she was experiencing and would.

Clothespins on her nipples were replaced with alligator clips.  Then came a biggie.  After a few more painful flogger strokes, I brought her to orgasm again.  Then, an alligator clip was placed directly on her clit, the hood pulled back.  This is something that she feared, deep down, but had so wanted to conquer.  As the pain rocketed through her, she winced, tensed, writhed and sounded the pain.  It was difficult to watch, so I began stimulating the little bit of her clit that rode above the clip.  She orgasmed, hard.  She squirted.  Four times I brought her off.  Four times she squirted.  So much pain, but she couldn’t stop cumming, even with the slightest stimulation.  After about a minute, I removed the alligator clips from her clit and nipples and sucked each of them.  Each time, she had an orgasm.

But the main event was yet to happen.  After talking with her, it was obvious that her fantasy demanded more.  She said that she was ready for it.  So I pressed on.  I had her on her back, legs spread.  Using a one and three-quarter inch leather belt, twice doubled, as my tool, I moved in.  Twenty-five, hard, strokes, directly onto her vulva.  The belt was just wide and long enough to cover the entire area.

She survived it.  Only twice did she try to close her legs.  I had forced them back open.  After the twenty-third stroke, she shot up from the bed and into my arms.  She told me that she could not take anymore.  She was nearly crying.  Her breathing was frantic.  She was in severe pain.  I told her, “It’s only two more strokes.  Surely you can handle two more.”  She, most reluctantly, got back into position.  Two more, hard, strokes fell.  I moved immediately to the bed and held her.  She was shaking and heady.  After a moment, though, she rolled on top of me, held me tight and said, “thank you”.

We lay there, holding one another and talking, for a couple of moments.  I asked her if it had been enough.  She hesitated.  Then she said, “I didn’t even cry”.  I asked her if she needed more.  She hesitated again, said she was scared, but wanted it.  She assumed the position again.  She knew what was coming…twenty-five more strokes.  She was ready.  Or so she thought.

After the fifth stroke, she closed her legs.  Every three of four strokes, even when going at a slower pace, I had to forcibly open her up to it.  By twelve, she was done.  She told me she couldn’t take it.  She thrashed.  She tried to keep her legs closed.  She tried to roll away.  She begged me to stop, with an anguished, teary plea.  But I kept forcing her legs open and continued the assault.  She wept pain seared tears.  I hurt, but kept going until we had hit all twenty-five.

I immediately dropped the belt and climbed on top of her.  Her arms shot around me and pulled me tight.  Her breathing was ragged, the pain obvious, the tears very real.  I told her that we were done.  If she needed more than that, she would have to do it herself.  I had long since left my comfort zone and was going forward on what I felt she wanted.  Was it fun to administer so much pain?  Yes.  But not necessarily to my wife, even though she wanted it.  I needed to make sure that she was okay.  That she knew that I loved her.  That I was there to take care of her and comfort her.

She knew.  Her breathing calmed, but her grip on me did not.  Through the torrent that she was experiencing, she said it again…”thank you”.  It was heartfelt and sincere.  I knew that she had gotten what she wanted, even if it was the last thing on earth that she wanted, while going through it.  She was happy. 

I must have given her, at least, a dozen more orgasm, after that.  She had experienced what she wanted.  Now, I wanted to make it all go away.  But some things can’t be soothed and orgasmed away.  Her labia were swollen, pretty drastically.  No bruising, yet, but it looked like she had a saline injection.  Evidence that I had, indeed, taken her over the edge and into the realm of fantasy.  But a sight that sat in my gut like a rock.  At least, until this morning.  I had her ice her  abused pussy, last night.  She took an ibuprofen.  This morning, the swelling is down.  It is not gone, but less than half of what it was last night.

Normally flat labia

It doesn’t appear that the bruising will be bad.  Her entire vulva is a darker red/purple, but not like a deep bruise.  What bruises there are, are tiny ones, scattered about, from the tips of the flogger.  She is okay.  So, I am okay.  It was not easy for either of us.

Could I do this again?  Probably.  It is my hope, though, that her want of this is not a close friend.  Though, no doubt, she will want it again.  For now, let it be enough that she was taken beyond her limits and her fantasy has been fulfilled.

Best Laid Plans

NW and I started our little fun time early, on Monday.  By Tuesday morning, we had to revamp most of it.

Given the type of atmosphere that NW wanted for this, the force, the pain, the objectification, I had two major concerns.  The first concern was that NW would slip into subspace and not come out.  I know that is a bit irrational of me, but it seems to me to be a type of shock that the recipient goes into.  What if it went too far?  What is she required medical attention?  At least here, her having given me permission, and even wanted, to be caned until she was welted, marked and out of it, is irrelevant.  It would be considered a crime.

My second concern was that the violence would throw her back, psychologically, to her previous marriage, which was both physically and mentally abusive.  My second fear began to rear its head, by Tuesday morning, and we had to scale things back…way back.

You see, I had certain rules and expectations, which were necessary to maintain her sense of submission and for proper objectification.  When these dictates were not met, or adhered to, there were consequences.  She feared the consequences, as she should have.  That fear, though, changed to dread and was very much like her previous life.  The trigger had been pulled.  But not before her ass wore the bruises and welts from Monday night’s caning.

So, we decided to confine this play to our evening playtime.  Her desires were still in place.  They just needed to be confined into a secure area of space and time.  But, even that didn’t happen, last night.  We learned something very important.  NW cannot be denied!  You can tease her mercilessly, as long as an orgasm, or sixty, is had.  If you edge her, though, then don’t allow her to orgasm, all sexual desire dies in less than an hour from ending play.  Not just the want of orgasm, but all libido.  Lucky so-and-so.  No denial for NW.  Just t&d, with a glorious orgasm as the capstone.

With both woke, this morning, with raging libidos.  We rolled around, groped one another, much like animals.  I bit her, choked her, clawed her, fingered her and brought her orgasm after orgasm.  She stroked me, sucked me, squeezed and slapped my balls and, yes, teased and denied me.  Today will be an interesting day.

For those keeping score, I did not orgasm.  We are on day twenty-two, since my last full orgasm.  And, right now, I want to cum…bad.  It is not overwhelming.  I do not need to be caged in order to prevent me from doing it myself.  But, my want of orgasm is higher than my want of denial.  In less than ten days, we will hit a month of denial, for the first time.  I very much want to hit that mark, but, for now, not as much as I want to cum.

I told NW that I wanted to orgasm.  I asked her if we could.  She said, “no”.  She wants me as horny as I am.  She is not willing to risk the drop in libido.  Very, wonderfully, selfish of her.  I knew what her answer would be.  Since this is the first time that my want of orgasm has exceeded my want of denial, though, I decided to go ahead and ask.  Why?  So that I could get used to hearing her say, “no”, when I knew that I could handle it.  So that she could experience saying, “no”, a) when the request was real and b) so that she could get comfortable with it.  So, she is selfish and I am manipulative.  But let’s be honest, it is far better for us to be comfortable with her refusing to allow me to orgasm, and make it normal, than to try to accept it, cold turkey, when I am about to explode.

In any case, if her libido holds, as mine surely will, then I am going to work on her fantasies tonight.  If not, then we will just do what we do.