Katy's Body Pt. 14

Chapter 14: veterans' night

*With thanks to my editor - Chris6160

Author's note: this, like other parts of the story, is about BDSM . It is the story of a consenting female submissive. If such subject material does not appeal to you then please choose not to read it. The law in many countries is such that consent is not a legal defence against committing "harm" to another. The definition of "harm" in this sense is very unclear. To be safe only the very few images that exist which show red marks consistent with a light punishment can be shown in this series. .

I was bored. My husband had been away on business for a week already. Apart from one coffee with the girls a few days earlier I hadn't spoken to another human. I was feeling randy too. I took my clothes off and looked at my own sexy naked body in my full-length mirror. I am enough of a narcissist to find my own body sexy and started to play with my clitoris. That wasn't enough. I wanted to be cruel to it. I wanted to hurt it. I carefully re-inserted my pussy and nipple rings. I put a cord through both the rings on my labia and attached it to the leg of a nearby table. I stepped back to pull the cord hard, watching my labia stretch in the mirror. Not enough pain so I lent backwards and pulled further away until they were stretched to the extreme. The view and the pain were both exquisite. I repeated the exercise with my nipples and stood there with them stretched to extreme and enjoying the pain. I released myself, grabbed my vibrator and gave myself a huge orgasm.

I hadn't planned any of this. It was wholly spur of the moment improvisation. A little later I tried again. I stood naked in front of the mirror with one of my husband's leather belts. I whipped my own breasts, the my abdomen and finally my own pussy. The only reason I stopped was that I was so sexed up that I had to use the vibrator to come again. When, finally, I had satisfied my own sexual desires I started to wonder why I had never thought of inflicting cruelty on my own body before. It certainly deserved it so why did I need someone else to do it for me? I spent the best part of the day wondering about it. There were two answers. Firstly, I wanted to hand responsibility to someone else - to let them mistreat my body in any way they pleased. Secondly, I wanted someone else's demonic imagination to come up with new and interesting ways of being cruel to my body.

My husband had emailed some thoughts about my next adventure. These would require dressing in a sexy outfit (at least to start). It was suggested that I might go to a local nightclub with one or more of my coffee friends to assess how men reacted to the outfit. This one went straight onto the list for my next adventure.

When my husband finally returned he gave me a present. It was an unusually shaped wooden spatula intended for cooking. It had a much longer than normal handle and the end was significantly longer. Without delay I was bent over the table and subject to a forceful and prolonged test spank on my ass. My husband professed himself pleased with it. I wholeheartedly agreed. It gave a wonderfully loud thwack, the initial pain from a single stroke was not as fierce as, say, a cane but it did create that exquisite general hot soreness very effectively. I was sure that my body would be experiencing more in the future. Since we had not seen each other for a while this was quickly followed by an intense session of doggy style fucking.

You may remember that a significant number of the men I have had sex with have been decades older. I have also slept with men that I don't find particularly attractive. The key is my narcissism. I find the sight of my own body sexually appealing and am attracted to anyone that finds it unusually sexy too. The "take it or leave it" attitude of handsome young men simply turns me off. In contrast, one much older, not very attractive man that I had ignored on an adult contact site sent a simple message: "What do I have to do to sleep with you?" It is precisely the sense that it would be a very special treat for the man concerned that makes me most turned on. Older, less attractive men are much more likely to be convincingly desperate or, at least, to perceive sex with a blonde in her 20s as a treat than younger, more handsome men. By doing more to appeal to my narcissism much older and less handsome men have figured more in my list of lovers than might be regarded as normal. My husband knew me too well and had come up with yet another of his demonic schemes for my body.

His idea was that I should put on a BDSM based "show" for a group of much older men - say 60 years or older. In his spare evenings during his business trip he had cast around the adult contacts websites and found a number of ageing sadists who would be more than happy to be "entertained" by a sexy blonde in her 20s, even if it did not result in sexual intercourse. I would hope that there had been plenty of potential takers. The initial idea had been to hire a room with a stage. It was normal practice that I was simply informed of the details of an adventure. Since discussion spilled over from my slave life to our more equal, vanilla life I felt free to suggest. I recommended a more intimate event of, say, six or less veteran sadists. This would allow for a more participatory experience - instead of simply watching passively I could, perhaps, provide lap dances and they could participate in delivering the necessary punishment to my body. My husband thought this an improvement and the plan changed accordingly.

Given my recurring fantasy of being fucked in public I even considered whether we should use a raffle to allow one of the veterans to fuck me in front of the others. My husband was unsure so it would be left to be decided on the night. I must admit that a delicious part of the psychology was that the majority of women of my age would find it degrading and repulsive to allow what they would see as a group of "dirty old men" to use my naked body. It was a source of arousal that I would be rebelling against such social norms (and some older men are sexy anyway). The thought that it might be an experience beyond their wildest expectations was even more a source of sexy anticipation. My narcissism and exhibitionism would be on overdrive.

It took a little time to re-arrange and prepare the largest room in the house for the occasion. As the veterans arrived (only five out of the invited six showed up) I served them drinks and snacks in the thigh boots and PVC shorts shown earlier. I took care to walk up and down as much as possible for them to all see my body. The aim of the early stages was to tease and arouse as much as possible. At one stage I slipped out for a change of outfit.

The next stage was to be striptease and lap dance. I am a reasonable dancer but not expert. Before the evening I had researched stripping and lap dancing and realised that removing thigh boots followed by pantyhose was unlikely to look sexy. On the night I changed into a lacy "body" which would be far easier to remove in a slow, sexy manner.

The veterans (and my husband) were shown to a row of seats. My husband operated the music by remote control. I started by simply dancing in as sexy role as possible. My ass is not well suited to twerking but I included plenty of ass wiggling and, when facing the audience, delivered plenty of hip swaying and pelvic thrusts whilst running my hands sexily up and down my thighs. After a short time I began to slowly and teasingly peel off the lacy body, stopping to tease further when it was rolled down to just cover my crotch. Finally, with a flourish it dropped to the ground and I stepped out of it. I continued to dance, showing off my naked body. I made sure to include in my moves bending over with my back to the audience to show my pussy and ass wiggling sexily.

The music changed to an even more rhythmic beat. This was my signal to start the lap-dances. I walked over to the first veteran, sat on his lap facing him with my arms behind his neck. From the start I could feel the hard erection. I moved my naked body up and down and side to side in time to the music. There was cheering and encouragement from the other veterans. I don't have large breasts but tried to rub what I do have in his face. When I deemed it sufficient I slowly stood up to allow him a good, close view of my nude flesh. I then repeated the same with each of the other four veterans. It looked to me as if all were in a very aroused state,

My husband didn't seem to be able to escape his obsession with starting each adventure by requiring me to offer my naked body for full hands-on inspection. This time it was perhaps more than usually useful. It signified a change from teasing and exhibitionism to submission. As usual, I was instructed to keep my legs slightly apart to allow access to my pussy. This time I was simply required to keep my hands clasped behind my back.

I worked along the line of veterans offering my body, telling them, "Please feel free to inspect my body carefully with your hands".

It should be no surprise that this humiliation of my body was very sexy to me. From the first veteran's fingers entering my pussy it was already wet, a fact announced to the others. That I, too, was finding the occasion sexy seemed to increase their excitement. Once the last veteran had completed his inspection there was a short break for the veterans to use the bathroom and to help themselves to another drink. My husband stepped up to make some adjustments. Wrist cuffs were fixed and my wrists fastened behind my back. A neck collar and chain were attached. There was enough time for a whispered conversation. How did I feel about a raffle to let one veteran fuck my body? I thought not - I wanted to be fucked by my husband.

The photo is representative, not taken on the occasion. I know this because I was not wearing stockings.

Once proceedings resumed I was taken, pulled by the chain attached to my slave collar to stand in front of the first veteran, legs slightly apart. He was handed the demon tail whip. My husband slapped me hard. I had forgotten my line.

"Would it please sir to whip my thighs?" He accepted with enthusiasm.

My husband offered advice. "The real pain is inflicted from the forked tail. Strike first from one side then from the other to best effect"

The first two strokes were tentative, without any sting. My husband again intervened: "Harder, much harder. That worthless body is much sexier when squirming from the pain". The veteran needed no further encouragement. Blows struck from both directions, giving a short, intense pain each time. My body writhed sexily after each and I gasped genuinely each time. Once there were sufficient red marks on my thighs to the veteran's satisfaction he handed back the demon tail whip.

I was moved to stand in front of the second veteran, who was handed the same whip. This time I invited him to whip my abdomen. He needed no advice from my husband to hit harder. From the start the demon tail struck from one side, then the other, each providing a sharp sting. My inner self was really enjoying this, my body was feeling a stream of sharp stings and beginning to display some excellent red marks. The thwacks were deliciously loud. Again, the veteran decided there were sufficient red marks and handed back the whip.

The next veteran was given a leather strap and invited to beat my breasts. This one was again a little hesitant and my husband looked as if he was going to suggest a harder besting when the same suggestion came from the other veterans, obviously keen (as was I) to see greater cruelty. The next blows were sufficient to force involuntary gasps and squirming from my body. My state of arousal had probably peaked with the whipping of my abdomen. The attention paid to my breasts was less exciting but still sufficient to keep me in a high state of arousal. As my body was offered to the next veteran, my husband tapped my inner thighs to get me to open my legs wider. The veteran was passed the leather strap.

"Would you please beat my deserving pussy sir?" I offered.

The first few strikes were clumsy and mis-placed. He stood up to get a better angle. The next blow hit my vulva hard with a resounding thwack, followed shortly by a wave of pain. My body involuntarily went up onto tip toes in a vain effort to escape the pain. Although it was more difficult to force my body the humiliation and the cruelty was really turning on my inner self. More blows were accurately and forcibly delivered to my pussy, each gradually building the accumulated soreness so that the writhing shifted from habitual and exaggerated to wholly involuntarily. When he finally stopped there was an appreciative round of applause. I am still not sure if it was intended for him for delivering an expert beating or for my body for taking it.

By way of a warm-up husband provided a light beating of my ass with a flogger

This left just one of the veterans to have a turm. My husband brought forward the spanking bench and my wrists were fastened to the far end, facing away from the veterans with both of my feet on the ground. My ass was thus made available for abuse and with a clear view of my already sore pussy. The last veteran was given a spanking paddle and offered my ass to beat. This he did with both vigour and enthusiasm. Leaving my ass, I presume, glowing red and definitely hot and sore.

The evening concluded with my body simply naked without restraints and that surreal feeling of polite small talk. Most found it necessary to run hands over my body, to savour the punishment that my ass, in particular had taken. Nonetheless it was surreal sipping a gin and tonic making polite small talk with a group of fully clothed old men whilst being the only naked person. The hands roaming my body almost made my attempts at small talk even more ridiculous but wonderfully humiliating.

A slow and gentle session of love-making with my husband followed first in the missionary position (he loved the feel of my beaten flesh next to his) and the doggy position (for the same reason).

There was a nice footnote to this occasion. The veterans had discussed with my husband in advance the idea of buying me a gift in appreciation of my generosity in providing my body for their entertainment. At my husband's suggestion they presented me with a necklace with the word "SLAVE" in rhinestones. I think my husband must have forgotten that I already had one very similar.

The photo shows me proudly modelling it on a later occasion. From time to time I wear it when fully clothed and in vanilla life. It is interesting to see the expression on people's faces when they spot it. There is an enlargement below.

My husband, jokingly and in reference to my favourite sexual position, started to call me the Rhinestone Cowgirl. I didn't understand the reference initially and was told to google for Glen Campbell.