Mr. Intensity's New Toy

I love impact play. I pride myself in my stamina when faced with a Dom set on pushing my boundaries. While my body doesn't translate pain to pleasure, I do get lost in the mindfulness that is required to compartmentalize each hit and prepare for the next. Feeling my body in that way is such a high.

Mr. Intensity is a wizard with impact play. He knows exactly how to scaffold each hit to push his sub to their next level- he varies implements, placement, and force to create a gradual symphony of moans and screams. If he puts his mind to it and has a willing participant, the bruises and marks that remain are art.

He messaged me to say that he had a new implement to try, and that when he found it he immediately thought of me. He said that it was going to be rough, but that he knew I could handle it.

I'm a sucker for praise, especially from this man. Moth, meet flame.

His weapon of choice was a construction marker- a long, thin piece of fluorescent orange rock hard plastic used to mark curbs and things on construction sites. If you look around a grocery store parking lot or a road construction site, you are likely to see them sticking out of the ground. He was picking them up from a job site, and immediately thought about my ass- how flattering.

He let me touch it, and I started to get nervous. The material was unforgiving, thin and hard enough that I could already feel the welts that it would leave. About four feet long, it had plenty of length for him to get a good swing in. When he whipped it through the air, the slicing sound it made me instantly wet, and vaguely terrified.

I was giddy with excitement as I laid naked in my bed, face down. "This is going to hurt, so we will ease our way into it," he said in his quietly dominating way. He elected not to use restraints. That kind of willful submission requires more focus on my part- I need to resist the urge to self-protect by covering my ass or moving away from his reach, instead taking a deep breath and surrendering to the next blow.

I felt his hand gently caress my ass, and shivered as goosebumps gave me away. When he landed the first spank with his hand, I moaned as my anticipation was rewarded. He let the colour in my ass build slowly as he oscillated between hard, crisp slaps and the slow trickle of his fingers across raw, red flesh.

When he was pleased with his effort (or perhaps when his hand started to ache), he switched to a particularly nasty flogger- long, leather strips ending in hard, tied knots. The thud and subsequent sting was deep and powerful. While a couple of the spanks had landed hard and made me flinch, the flogger made that more of a constant practice. I yelped with each impact and had to put my hands under the pillow in front of me to keep them from covering my ass. He allowed me to shuffle my legs, but did not relent in his task.

My ass was on fire, and each knot left a long, slow ache within me. The thought of the small, thin plastic was becoming a beacon of light. I was longing for a sting instead of a thud, which is exactly where he wanted me to be.

When he finally put the flogger down, my body and mind breathed a collective sigh of relief. Stinging pain tends to subside much faster than the deep thuds, so I was ready for it- or so I thought.

"This is really going to hurt," he cautioned. I could hear the excitement bleeding through the caution in his voice.

"So did that," I said flippantly. Sometimes I can't help myself.

"It's either going to break on impact, or it's going to leave an impressive mark," he said. "Ready to find out?"

I took a deep, settling breath and put my hands under the pillow in front of me. I progressively relaxed my muscles, taking great care to focus on releasing my thigh, hip, and ass muscles. "Yes Sir," I said back.

Jesus. Fuck. No amount of caution or warning could've prepared me for that. I must be bleeding. Mr. Intensity has an immense amount of control, but that must have broken the skin.

"Good girl," he said simply. "Ready for another?"

"Yes Sir," I heard a voice say. It couldn't have been mine.

The next one came with a louder whoosh in the air, and I tensed before it hit me- big mistake. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, and he laughed.

"This is going to be fun," was his only reply before he hit me again.

My hands flew to my ass, instantly covering and putting pressure on the site of the third strike. I debated calling red, more from shock than anything else. I couldn't believe that there wasn't broken skin.

"You know better," he chastised, "move your hands."

The devil himself must have moved my hands, because two seconds later there was another white hot sting. I was absolutely ready to call it, which he must have sensed. "Two more," he promised.

I slowly obeyed, breathing deeply as I reminded myself I wasn't bleeding. I felt a dildo press into my slippery wet pussy- the moan this time was pure relief. "This should help," he said smugly. He started slow, thrusting the dildo with one hand while his other fingertips traced the welts on my ass. "These are gorgeous," he mused. "Two more and I will take a photo."

I am not sure if it was mercy or added torture that the last two blows were delivered within seconds of each other. I had no time to absorb and recalibrate, though I suppose I also had no time to panic. The second he was done, he thrust the dildo and out of me with enough force that I was cumming before I realized it.

I let the warmth wash over me, begging the release to relax me. I could vaguely hear him snapping photos, muttering to himself- clearly impressed with his work.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

"Absolutely not," I replied quicky- some might even say desperately.

"Good. It's about time I had something you truly feared."

Gulp.