Sweetness and Welts

fem dom art

man in postition

As I was ironing Hannah’s nylon stockings this morning, my bottom aglow, I realized what a lovely week and a half we have had.

One of the most basic rules in our relationship is that we only make love when Hannah is ready. In practice this means that there is a stretch of four or five days where Hannah is lovely and moist and on heat. While I am allowed to orally please her from time to time when she is not on heat, my chaste cock will not be allowed anywhere near her except during this glorious, monthly, moment.

This month was perfect. It began when, late, she rolled over and said to me, “I’m very wet.” I slipped my hand between her thighs – she was. I slide down the bed and eased my tongue into her pretty cleft. There are few things more delightful than Hannah’s pussy when she is wet. I rolled her little clit with my lips while flicking it with my tongue. Each flick brought a tiny shudder and Hannah pushed down. I switched to the ice cream licks she loves so much and, in time, Hannah required my hand. She came beautifully and triumphantly.

Now, when Hannah comes she likes, almost immediately, to be filled with my hard cock “For my greater pleasure.” As you might guess I was very hard indeed and at her command pushed my cock into her wonderfully wet, still throbbing, pussy. All the way in and then, as I have been trained to, I stopped. No thrusting, nothing. Hannah guides me. If she brushes her hand against my nipples I begin to, slowly, slide in and out. This seldom lasts long as Hannah will either exhaust her greater pleasure and push on my hips to have me withdraw or begin to apply pressure to my nipples. If there is pressure I accelerate. And, after a few thrusts, ask the lady of the house for permission to ejaculate. Sometimes she simply says yes, more often I feel her lovely, long, sharp nails closing on my hard little nipples. It feels exquisite – every neural path full of sensation. I try to hold out but Hannah knows I can’t. Her nails bite my nipples and as the pressure increases I can feel the wonderful release of being allowed to come in the lady of the house.

We fell into blissful sleep.

The next morning, as I lay in bed, Hannah was already dressed when she realized I was hard as a rock. “Naughty, sweet, man,” she said as she hiked her skirt up and slipped her panties to one side. She mounted me and fucked me for, perhaps, three minutes. She didn’t touch my nipples and I knew I was not going to be allowed to come. But it didn’t matter as I lay there hard and wonderfully used and teased by the lady of the house. Much too soon it was over and Hannah swung off me and lowered her skirts. “A bit later.” And so it went for nearly four days. I was lucky enough to ejaculate three times and Hannah’s complete mastery over our sexuality was reaffirmed.

While Hannah is on heat she almost never whips me. I am not entirely sure why; but there it is. I think it is partially from kindness. When I am servicing Hannah’s desires, and not incidentally my own, I am drained. Unlike when I am milked, the full rush of hormones accompanies each ejaculation. I am not on edge at all and without that edge the cane stings but does not satisfy. Hannah went off heat a few days ago and I’ve known I would be whipped sometime this weekend. Hannah prefers, unless it is for immediate correction purposes, to whip me in the morning. First thing, while sleep is still a memory. Often when I have my morning erection.

For a man in my position being whipped is part of the beauty of the relationship. In fact, for the three and a half weeks a month when Hannah is not on heat and I will be milked but not allowed to ejaculate, a good whipping produces many of the same feelings and benefits as having Hannah make love to me. It is intense and wonderfully focusing.

“So, an Easter Sunday spanking?” said Hannah who had been sitting on the edge of our bed and easily announced her intention to whip me. She went to get her cane and I got my black leather belt with the three extra restraint holes. “Do we need that?” asked Hannah. “Perhaps” I replied. So Hannah cinched my wrists to my ankles. My cock and balls were pushed between my thighs and, to a degree, into harm’s way. She always warms me up with her hand and after ten or fifteen slaps I was ready for the first bite of the cane.

Hannah usually takes a few light practice strokes before she begins to bring the cane down with any force. This morning was no different and Hannah delivered a wonderful if a bit light caning. Maintenance and all that. I was wincing towards the end but no more than wincing. Hannah unstrapped me and I lay recovering as she played lightly with my hard cock. We talked a bit and I allowed as how, when I have no access to Hannah, my whippings have come to be a wonderful substitute for her sweetness. Hannah listened, still stroking…Then she stopped.

“I don’t think you’re done yet. Put a pillow under your hips. Let’s see if we can give you some welts.”

I quickly took my position. Equally quickly, without any preliminaries, Hannah brought her cane down. Hard. And then a bit harder and then, having gauged the weight, the cane whistled through the air as Hannah walked it from the top of my bottom to the top of my thighs. Perfectly spaced, very quick and wonderfully sharp. Lovely lines with a little welting and, I suspect, a good chance of some light bruising to mark me for a few days.

I lay, panting, happy and in love.

One comment

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