Cutting Deep

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Slave being whipped.
1.2k words
3.7
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Sir,

The night was cool and refreshing, a 3/4 moon in the sky, under light wispy cloud as I took my run. The air still, the place dead quiet. On my return I worked out for an hour or so, my body beaded with sweat, then I wound down with a session with my sword. The thoughts you generated in me today with our talks, lent its keen, shining blade that extra edge this night Sir.

I slept lightly as I always do waking at the slightest sound, scenarios running through my head, excitement running through my veins. And yes Sir I was buck naked as you ordered.

I can imagine well the day, I have been left alone caged in your house, you have had a difficult time with my taming and do not trust me yet. Hence my cage is small and you keep me shackled at all times, for you know I can overpower you. A fearsome and exciting prospect which you often ponder, yes the tables turned. You have already had a few near misses with me, but you love the thrill, the sport, the ultimate test of wills. Though you have held me close and often, still I shiver and shake at your touch. Yet somehow Sir this arouses you all the more.

This day you return the black mood has seized you, it has been a bad day for you, and I cannot understand the import of what it means, with my simplistic ideologies. I watch you silently, sensing the change in you the animal picking up on your mood. I am not much of a talker and often silent in your presence, letting you lead the conversation where you will. You do not acknowledge me this day; I wait restless and uneasy.

I can sense all too well your anger and frustration, and it has been some time since you gave me a good hiding. Though today I decide it would be in my best interests to go carefully, this day the danger lurks just below in you. You ignore me and go about your evening chores, the smell of food makes me salivate for I am very hungry. I hope you have remembered that fact.

Finally you acknowledge me and bring me food, after you have first eaten and fed your useless cat. I am last to eat as always.

I eat eagerly from your hand through the bars, I have at last learned the painful folly of biting the hand that feeds me, and we have reached a begrudging truce. You rub the side of my face and I flinch away as I always do. Your eyes meet mine with a scathing stare of disapproval, I forget myself in that moment and boldly eye you back daring to bare the defiance there for you to see. You snap when you see this, I back away realizing I have pressed a challenge, and I shouldn't have. Then I wonder as you leave the room if you were that pissed you were already going to hurt me anyway.

I wait muscles tense, heart beating wildly, ears straining for any clue to my fate; and out you come with your coiled bull whip, at such a pace even your cat scarpers. I see you come towards me with brutal purpose. This will hurt I know and end up being quite bloody. I will need days to recover afterwards and I mentally ready myself for the assault. I have decided I will not cry out at any cost and give you the satisfaction of your triumph. I hoping I can do it, as you order me to put my hands close together in front of me for chaining, threatening me against inaction with the Tazer. I hate its bite I have already tasted it too often, so I comply with your request perhaps too slowly, you are angry this evening I can see.

You haul me by my collar from the cage, I am stiff and sore but it is good to be free at last. You march me to the basement, this is the place where you choose to punish me bloody. You push me to the cold damp floor already stained with my blood. I kneel and obey steeling myself quieting my jagged nerves. Ready for my transcendental pain experience. You push my long hair off of my back exposing all of its muscled and scarred flesh to your sights and you take the first swing.

The whip cracks across my back searing in its intensity, and wraps its tendrils of pain around my belly. I flinch and catch my breath but that is all you get, as you draw its full length back through your hand to give me the next stroke.

I endure the lightening hot caresses forgetting in my pain the count, as my flesh begins to peel, bruise, and bleed. Sweat and blood sheening on my skin now, the salt sweat stinging my eyes. I let you hit me as you will, I do not cry but bite down hard on my lip to stifle any response. I cannot let you win, this is a point of personal pride.

Eventually you are sated of your anger, your sexual lusts and aggression rising now to the fore. The spectacle of my whipping and my blood, goading you into a frenzy as you gaze upon my chained muscular nakedness, helpless but to do your bidding. You can feel your self getting hard with this sight before you, I know the thoughts in your mind though I dare not look up. I can feel the heat of your hairy bear like body, and your cock hard against my ass as you mount me.

I take your weight in spite of the pain, and I feel the pressure of you as you enter me. I swallow hard as you grab my bloody torso and commence to fuck me hard, your nails scoring into my flesh as you sate your darkest passion, pulling me ever towards you.

I am caught up in this now too, my only sexual outlet I have left to me, being used by you the Master. I writhe and begin to breathe hard, as you reach under me and grab me by the nipple rings to prevent me from moving forward. My blood covers us both as I attempt to rear and buck under you. Still you ride me hard pushing me ever harder with each fevered stroke as you come, shuddering in me. You whisper hoarsely in my ear telling me what a whore I am, and order me to thank you for your greatest gift you have seen fit to bestow on me your slave.

You turn me around to face you, I hurt now and I am beginning to feel it by this stage. Nausea rising in my gut, I wished I had not eaten before I did this, as I fight to hold my food down, looking closely at your face. I know what you want but I feign stupidity, a ruse which you have seen right through. But you realize I have had enough this day, and marvel at my stoicism yet again in the face of your blackness. Instead you hug me to you, and quietly stroke my hair as I shake partly with intensity, partly with pain. I do not resist It feels so strangely good to be abused then caressed as I slump against your body quite spent, knowing I am yours forever.

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BlueEyes1969BlueEyes19694 months ago

I scored this with 5 stars while I held my breath and winced at the graphic scenes of BDSM extreme abuse and the psychological effect upon the sub/victim. This is more than a gay M2M relationship. The score is because of the impact of emotions your story brings to the reader. I love the BDSM scene but not to the point of gashes and blood. I am thankful that my Master/Uncle is a loving and kind man who employs the tenderness that balances the pain.

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