The First... Pt. 03

Story Info
She learns the erotic power of pain.
3.6k words
4
4.7k
1

Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 07/28/2022
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Braid in one hand and belt in the other, he spun her hunched over until she stumbled about. He quickly led her to the bed and dragged her over his left leg. His right leg clamped her down across him. He kept his hand on her braid, forcing her head into the bed. Muffling her pending screams. He laid the belt across her back and stroked her ass with his hand. He let the weight of it lay across her shoulders. Her barely pantied ass lay vulnerable and wanting. He continued to stroke it softly with his free hand. Fingers tugging the tag and popping the bit of strap that kept the thin panties from falling to the floor. He wanted to leave a hand print. One good bare hand to bare ass swat. He had committed to the belt though. Out of love and respect he would not change that. Her ass was still not back to its original lily white. A few fading bruises held on from last weekends play. She had told him hey no longer pained her. There would be fresh marks again by morning.

"You know what you are about to get, My love?", he asked his hand skidding along her firm round ass and upper thighs.

"Sir, the belt, Sir."

"What crimes or misdeeds have you done to earn this?"

"Sir, none, Sir."

"Why girl, do you receive the harshness of the belt?"

"Sir, the belt is of my choosing, my request, my need, my escape, administered by my love, Sir."

He released the pressure on the legs offering some bit of freedom. She remained still and patient. He tugged at her panties and let them fall to her ankles. "Bring them to Me.", he said firmly.

She tried to rise, but he kept her face deep in the bed. She struggled.

"Bring them to ME!"

Her arms flailed a bit. He would not let her free.

She wriggled her feet and worked the straps of her panties between one set of toes. She raised that foot at her knee. "Sir, as you requested, Sir."

He took them. "Good girl." He held them up and admired the tiny bit of sensuality. He could see evidence of excitement in the crotch. "Interesting." He hooked his right foot around her left and yanked quickly. Her legs parted before she understood as his fingers probed her. Deep and rough. "Seems you do know what you want." He put those fingers beneath his nose and inhaled deeply. Her scent was heavenly. He tasted her and his cock started to expand under her belly. He shifted to allow its natural growth.

"Hands behind your back." She complied.

He wove and wrapped her wrists though her panties. She felt she was not truly bound, but she would be challenged with resistance. Her hands would struggle to interfere later. "Open your mouth." He could see her do as she was told. He slid the belt into her mouth, "Hold this, don't drool on it."

Her teeth came down, lips drawn away. A crude "Sir, yes, Sir.", was mumbled.

He manhandled her pussy lips with tugs and squeezes. A few full handed swats till she moaned and her thighs relaxed and she spread wider. He shifted between the squeezing and swatting on her pussy. She was getting into the rhythm of actions and flowing with them. He kept the same up for a few minutes until the pitch of her moaning revealed her need for release. He finger fucked her again, hard and fast, just a few strokes and then removed his hands. She let out a whimper and the excitement that had tightened in her body left her distressed. She trembled lightly. He pulled her head back hard, tuning it toward himself. He stared her down, "Drop it.", as if he had been talking to a dog. She opened her mouth and the belt fell free. He put the two fingers he had just withdrawn from her close to her mouth. "Lick them clean."

"Sir, yes, Sir." She licked them slowly and thoroughly giving him a show. It did not take long to feel she had completed the task, but she chose to continue. She would stop at his direction. But that never came.

He took his hand away from her mouth. He ran his wet fingers across the top of her head like a towel before firmly gripping her braid. He freed his other arm and shook it out. The bed moving from the force. Then he sat still. "Such a good little subbie."

He reached his left hand back for her hair, this time snaking his hand through the tangle of panties. The addition of his forearm tightening their hold to the point that the last several inches his hand traveled it dragged her wrists farther up her back. At the same time his right leg swept firmly over the back of her knees, drawing them together and down as he locked his right foot behind his left ankle. Her soft body tried to stiffen in an automatic response but it was too late. Helplessness filled her. She wanted to struggle and test his mettle, but she had asked for this. She was breathing rapidly when the searing stripe of pain ripped through her mind. She screamed into the bed. Her system went haywire and she fought to escape and tend the sensation. He kept her in place.

"Easy girl." He rested his hand on her. The belt resting across her. He did nothing for several moments. The pain settled and she breathe easier. "What do you say?"

"Sir, thank you, Sir."

She felt his hand and belt come away from her. She prepared for number two.

"Lovely red welting stripe across your ass." He said smiling. She could not see it, but she knew the tone of his voice and the man was smiling a wicked evil grin. He stroked the belt across her butt cheeks about two thirds of the way up her ass. The belt went away and the belt came down in the same spot with furious intensity. The pain ripped through her system again, her body bucked and she shrieked into the bed. He continued his grips and she remained as he put her.

She breathed through pain. A few deep breaths later, "Sir, thank you, Sir." She braced for the next strike. She yearned for it, the addictive rush of endorphins. The way her body craved this after, the way her mind achieved openness and clarity. Time passed. Her pain subsided from the initial strike and she relished the low murmur of pain from both strikes. She felt the leather stroke across her upper thighs. He tightened her legs more. Seconds later the third painful blow came down across her upper thighs. More tender than her buttocks her body railed against the pain with more strength. Strength he controlled, and kept her in place as she screamed. She registered her pain and tried to catch her breath. This took several deep breaths. When she felt settled, "Sir, Thank You, Sir." Her body was trembling again. When it had subsided, she felt the belt across the small of her back. She tensed. He had never struck her there. Pain came back into play as he gently ran two fingers across the first strike. "You have welted so nicely." He stroked it a few more times. She felt the pain of it in a soothing way. "This was to get you started." He stroked the second strike the second mark the same way. "This delineates the highest point I will strike you." He moved on to the third, stroking it more deeply. She winced from the pain, but consumed it as well, cooing after. "This is as low as I will go," he paused, "tonight." His fingers traced her thighs at the point where his leg overlapped hers. By the end of the weekend, you will be marked past this point. He stroked that line a few more times. "Well past here." He stopped. The belt was removed from her back.

At first, she thought the defined area a gift. Knowing what would be unscathed. But her mind, instead, focused on the area that would be fair game. Physically helpless by him and now mentally trapped in her own mind. What was left?

Pain was left, and once again it has left its mark on her. Very near the upper limit. She shuddered, screamed and breathed in deep. She was learning how to process this pain. Each time it was excruciating, but each time it had settled into the mass after pain radiating from his blows. "Sir, thank you, Sir."

An immediate strike just above his lower limit ripped through her. Her body much more responsive again. She held back her scream with a deep grunt and growl. She breathed in the pain and breathed out emotional toxins. She was getting into the zone of what she wanted and she relaxed deeper than ever before. "Sir, Thank YOU, Sir." This was less labored and sweeter. For the first time, genuine. Time passed and the next strike came close to the top again. She felt it, she winced slightly, and grunted. She breathed her "Sir, thank you, Sir." Her body left her. Her mind floating, but still in place.

He continued his up and down strikes, filling in the area he had identified. The more he stroked the more she became one with it. There was still pain, but it began to flow through her like warm water swirling about and leaving each time with her, "Sir, thank you, Sir." In almost dreamy voice now.

It took her a bit of time to realize her next situation. No fresh pain, just her floaty self. No words flowed automatically from her lips, he had stopped. She did not want him to stop, fear flooded her. "SIR!!" she yelped.

The leather stroked its way across all the existing marks. Slowly, shifting side to side as it moved bottom to top. Coming to rest once again in the small of her back. His fingertips now stroked and explored the various places without any pattern she could detect. "You have done very well. I am proud of you." She fed on his every word. She bathed in the sensations the stroking and scratching did to her ass and upper thighs. "But," he said driving all his fingers into five different marks. The pain filling in, sating an emotional hunger. "There are gaps between some of the marks." He traced a fingernail down flesh that did not cause pain. "I will not have that. I marked you from here..." he roughly fingered the lower mark, the third strike "... to here." Now fingering the second, uppermost mark. "To mark these points", he ran a finger down some of the unmarked areas quickly, "I will have to overlap the edges of these." Two fingers ran the length of two marks. The thought of his next strokes went straight to her sex. Dreamy became horny. "Sir, PLEASE, Sir."

The belt left her back. His hand released the pony tail, then grabbed it again a bit higher up and more firmly. His legs tightened around her and pain raced through her. Pain to a different level restriking existing marks. Her back arched, her legs fought, tears came to her. In her mind, she lapped it up like a kitten with milk.

Her pain was sweet and fulfilling. She drifted into it and hungered for more. But it did not come. Time had passed and the pain was subsiding. She needed her next strike... where was it... her scrambled brain ran through the overwhelming series of events. "SIR, THANK YOU, SIR!" she cried and the pain flooded her again. She drank deep from that glass. "Sir, thank you, Sir" as rapidly as she could form words. Tears flowed, pain enriched her and she lived to speak again, "Sir, thank you, Sir." She spoke these words several more times.

"You are amazing! My love." He freed his hands from her hair and woven panties and relaxed the grip of his legs. She spilled out onto the floor at his feet. Her hands freeing themselves and clutching his thigh as she went, like a drowning person needing something to save her. She held his thigh, caught her breath, kissed his thigh deeply and lowered herself the rest of the way to the floor. Her hands slid down his leg, never letting go.

Cold floor met flaming ass as she rolled slightly. The bit of shock brought her back to consciousness. She had to work out where she was and what she was doing. She opened her eyes, his ankle. She could then feel the top of his foot into her cheekbone. She moved, feeling the bit of drool that had congealed between them. She tried to push up but her hands were entwined. She glanced, her fingers wrapped tightly in her panties. It seemed vaguely familiar.

"You did that yourself." His voice soft and warm, almost inviting. She looked up at him wiping her mouth on her shoulder. Every move was painful. Taught muscles had to be told to relax. She found her legs locked around his other ankle. Her hands fidgeting out of the panties. "You kept saying 'never let you go' till you fell silent." She chuckled, but did not dare counter or doubt him. She had no idea what she had done in past few... minutes... hours.... could it be morning? She rolled again to right herself and the cold floor pressed into her hot ass. It was not morning. The pain was too fresh.

"How long was I out." Nothing. She looked at him. He stared down darkly. "Sir, please, Sir, Forgive me, sir." She kept painfully unfolding herself until she was near upright, with the support of his leg to lean into.

"You are beautiful." He said softly.

She imagined herself. Ass red, drool on her mouth different flesh tones from layered body parts... and she had been crying... her eyes were likely puffy. She frantically poked at he hair. The French braid seemed to be intact. At least her hair was not frightfully angry looking. She breathed in and out.

He petted her hair and she looked up at him glancing over his semi-erectness, up his body and to his smiling face beaming down. At that moment she thought she knew what God looked like. He who giveth and taketh away. She painfully shifted onto her knees and took his cock into her mouth. She had no direction or permission. She followed her heart. Her hands reached for his balls and caged them gently between outstretched fingers as her palms closed beneath them. Her head began to bob and she began her 'prayer' to her new-found God. His cock responded in kind and grew in her mouth as she stroked him. The more blood filled and tried to raise his cock, the wider she spread her knees, lowering her body, so she could look into His eyes and watch him receive her blessings.

"Beautiful." He said again.

Her legs wide and her heals digging into her welted ass she turned pain into energy and worshipped his cock, her man, her deity. She felt a warmth build and spread. It started between her legs and grew outward. Her days of teasing herself. The relaxation of the spanking. The awakening in her mind to what all he could be to her. She continued to slide him in and out of her mouth. Her fingers stroking down his balls, opening just to reach up and stroke them again. Each stroke of his cock pumped more desire into her. Her pace increased. She wanted to bless this deity with an orgasm, but more so she wanted to make an offering of herself to him. She grabbed her jumbled panties and climbed up, sliding her body along his cock, slick from her mouth. She reached the belt and took it up. She crawled back across his thigh just as he had put her. Her hands moved behind her back and laced themselves in the panties. As best she could she held the belt aloft to him. "Sir... Please... Strap me till you can stand it no longer then fuck me. Use my pussy and let me pleasure you.... Sir, Please, Sir." Tears came again. Her emotions were bared and raw. She could only hope he would approve. She feared denial more than anything.

His hand slid back through the panties with an extra twist. Taking up the slack. He reached past her braid grasped her by the upper braids. He pulled her head back away from the mattress, her neck uncomfortable. He took up the belt and let it fall across her raw bare bottom. She jumped and squalled a bit. "You know what you are asking for?"

"Sir, yes, Sir."

"You are very welted...sensitive...desirable. The offer appeals to me." He paused, "Last chance to change your mind."

"Sir, my mind is fine, it is my ass that needs your attention, Sir."

"You won't have the mattress so don't scare the neighbors. He dropped the belt again by its own weight. She shuddered but controlled her voice."

"Good girl." He dropped the belt across her with full force.

She started bucking and learned quickly he had not clamped her legs. She wiggled and kicked her pain away. "Thank y...", the belt struck down again. Her head, spine and wrists he kept locked down but he left her legs to dance. She realized and was thankful. The belt came down again. Her legs spasmed in all directions, a low growl whispered. The strikes came more regularly and without delay. Never in the same spot twice, but nothing out of the area he had welted earlier. Her legs flailed. They pushed off his legs, the floor and the bed. Her belly was sliding off his knee when she felt his other leg wrap around her and pull her back to his thigh.

"Not yet, I am not through with you, girl!" He clamped her down.

Her leg movement denied she clenched her teeth for the next swing. This was not like before. No floating, loss of sensation. This had been a steady flow of intense pain with no end in sight. The pain seared her brain, her pain energy still shifted to her legs but they just struggled without success against his. No tears came. No emotional escape, just the pain she had gifted to him. His to extract. His to play with. Hers to endure, and she was. The belt would come down until it didn't. When it didn't, once again, she did not even realize. The pain was radiating from her ass without fail.

He lifted her off his thigh to a near standing position and stood up himself. He guided her to face the bed. He extracted his hand from her hair and slid it down the jumble of panties. He pressed her body into hers until she made contact with the bedside. He slipped his feet between hers had spread his legs wide, spreading hers wider as he forced her over the bed by pressing their panty clad hands into her back. She buckled and flopped over. He looked down. His love bent over, her ass aflame, legs wide and his cock in full readiness to complete the rest of her request. He bent at the knees while his other hand, free of the belt guided his cock to her pussy. He pressed forward, but missed the mark. He did not care. He could feel her lips welling up under the pressure. He pressed on until her lips folded under and her bodies natural line, in conjunction with his familiarity with her sex, the head of his cock found its way inside her. The rest of his cock followed. Without hesitation he forced his way all the way down. She whimpered with the first stretch and buried her face in the bedding when his hips slammed into her welted ass. He slammed her three more times. She resorted to biting into the bedding to keep from screaming. He pulled all the way out and slammed in again. He thrust her a few more times. He pulled out again and went back for the plunge. He missed the mark, but her own juices let him slide past the obstructions and back to full depth. He ground his hips against her ass. He watched the glory that was her writhing and contorting in response to his hips. This through him over the edge and he thrust her like an animal. He was thrusting and grunting with every pulse of orgasm. He kept on until every bit of excitement she had inspired was deep inside her. He kept his erection encased in her pussy until his heartbeat slowed and her natural tightness pushed his relieved cock out. He released her panties and helped her free her own hands. Her arms flopped to the side and she breathed deep, bedding still locked in her jaws. Her fingers wiggling blood back into them. He raked his nails across her ass she lifted herself off the bed as he crawled into it.

"We are drying on me," he gestured to his cock, "get a warm cloth and clean me up." She went into the restroom and started running water. He watched her as she tested the water temperature. When it was right, she wet a facecloth. Like so many times before he saw the familiar view of her leg outstretched to him, her foot on the counter, a clear view of her sex from this vantage point as she used the cloth to clean up 'after'.

"Ahem."

She looked at him, watching her.

"What were your instructions?"

She repeated them in her head. "...get a warm cloth and clean ME up." She froze.

"Go get the paddle!"

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Nope, I skipped a lot of this. There’s a very important aspect missing from this story AFTERCARE. It’s all still far too one sided. Waking up on the floor with your dominant’s foot holding your head down isn’t aftercare. Him getting pissed off because she asked a question whilst still trippy from subspace is just dumb. Communication is essential in kink, so getting angry about being asked questions doesn’t foster common it only instills doubt and fear.

Presumably she IS a pain-slut but to those of us who aren’t it just looks like abuse. It might be a good idea to add pain-slut into the Tags, that at least gives potential readers a choice.

Tess (uk)

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