My friend came to me for help.
He needed a healthy outlet for all the stress he’d been under. His usual methods for letting off steam just weren’t cutting it any more, and the feeling of pressure, of itching skin and the dangerous need for stimulation weren’t letting him go, no matter what he did. Highly intelligent, witty and urbane, my friend was facing an existential crisis. So he did the only sane thing left to him. He asked for help.
In the most vulnerable and trusting moment of his life, he asked me to give him a safe haven.
How could I possibly say ‘no’ to that? To be so cruel as to turn away my friend, to leave him to suffer in his own body, held prisoner to his own flesh. I couldn’t. It’s not in me. So we sat down and had a talk. We negotiated. He agreed to obey me, to listen to my words, to do as I told him. I agreed to give him sensation, to bring him both a touch of pain and a frisson of pleasure, to be there for him, strong and resolute, to be the rock he could break open upon.
He asked me to let him beg.
This was not a light request, mind you. Oh, no. Never a light request. I know what it means when a strong man begs, when a mind like his needs to be silenced into the animal flesh, when a wit and an ego face the drive towards disillusionment. It would take effort on my part, to bring him to that brink, to shepherd him over it, and to cushion his landing on the other side. I relished the challenge.
He needed to let go and beg for release, for touch.
And yet he still couldn’t quite get there. So I’d have to help him. With my hands and with my tools I drove the thoughts from his mind, leaving him gasping in his body, swaying to my touch and whimpering. Still, he couldn’t beg. He panted, he moaned, he gasped out to me “I, I. Shit. I can’t. I… can’t.” He needed more. This was him, asking for more of my help.
One last tool in my arsenal.
A slim toy, flexible and dark; in my hands, the evil stick delivers stinging sensation and overwhelming pleasure. I pulled his left knee out, flexing at the hip, opening him. Still with his hands on the wall, unmoving, just opening the hips for me. I used the toy, the stick, on his tender inner thighs. Each stinging impact drawing a high moan from him, trembling across his legs and back. Thin red lines, crosshatched across his sensitive flesh, and then my cool hands smoothing over him. Soothing again, bringing pleasure to ease the pain. Raising endorphins and serotonin.
My hands on his hips held him still, my strap on between his cheeks teasing over his hidden places.
I leaned close to him, again. “One word. That’s all. You can say it for me. ‘Please.'” He shook, his hips moving with no mind behind them, rolling and seeking friction. Pink tongue flicking across his lips, gasping breath, and he leaned into me. “Please. Please, please, please. Please.” He panted his words with each breath, chanting unendingly “Please.”
I do hope your friend is feeling better after his experience and I thank him for allowing you to share his story with us all. And with this story I get a little bit more understanding as well.
I’m glad you’re gaining understanding of it Forrest! I’ve known a lot of people who just don’t get the whole ‘I want you to smack me so that it feels good’ thing, so I thought I’d try to shed some light on it. It’s a fascinating physiological response, and the things bdsm can do for brain chemsitry is just awesome. You can get high from your own body’s responses to stimulation. (Turns out mideval monks knew something! and twirling Sufis as well.)
This story is as gripping as the writing is fantastic. I hope you’re publishing somewhere.
I’m glad you like my writing. 🙂 So far the only place I’ve published this stuff is right here. People keep telling me I should try to get published via traditional routes, however. I take it you’d agree?
omg. … its hard to know about submission; the submissive; until he me meets real; in a dominant; and … she is. It’s hard to know himself; until he finds that. what an incredible treasure. What a beautiful thing
You, are; that. I Envy! them that get to be him.
I wish I could find you someone in you area Spooty, so that you could have the real for yourself. I know how much you crave it. 🙂
You are a gifted girl Harper.Your grasp of the psyche of dominance is terrific.Taking the subject on a roller coaster of contrasting pain and then pleasure is so sweet.Dominance can be a great expression of love.You do it with grace,charm and uncommon intelligence.We salute you Harper.
Aw, thank you Rod! I do try my best to use my submissives bodies to build up to a crescendo of sensation, and one of the best ways to do that is to naturally ebb and flow, to alternate sensations until you overwhelm the conscious mind. I do love my work!