6th October 2016 - Pleasure in Pain - Leave a Comment

Celebrating 16 years of Marriage the BDSM Way – Pleasure in Pain @TalkSmut #spank #whip #cane


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Proceed with caution: This is a real life account of a BDSM experience, if you don’t want to know about my own personal kinks and pleasures then back out now, no hard feelings.

On the 23rd September we went up to MARS for all the fun of Pandamonium to celebrate Panda’s birthday (love that woman, she makes seriously great hitty things with lovemespankme) and to have our own personal celebrations as we remembered that day 16 years ago when we did that whole ‘I do’ thing.

We jumped right in to play, to get me warmed up. Flogged shoulders and butt and then the appearance of Smaug. My position meant I could watch Kev hitting me. It was incredibly arousing to see him strike, watching the power in his arms, the concentrated lust and focus in his eyes as he cracked the dragontail whip to full effect.

“I never would have imagined us doing this on our 16th wedding anniversary.” I said. “But I’m glad we are.”

When you embark on a relationship, you never really know where it’s going to go. I mean, it’s one of those conversations you have when things start to get serious – how many kids you’ll have, what kind of place you’ll live in, what jobs you’ll have and even where you’re going to retire to when you’re old and grey. Funnily enough, being an erotica writer and owning our own smutty business didn’t feature in our future plans and neither did frequenting a dungeon.

It’s strange how you develop and change. We’re a far different couple to the one that said our vows in the registrar’s office on a blowly autumn day in 2000 but we are as strong together now as we’ve ever been.

This year has been a whirlwind of BDSM discovery-you will have seen some of it in my writings here- I will forever be grateful for the gleeful enabler who opened up this exciting world to us both because without that friendly (and wickedly mean) face welcoming us in we’d have never been brave enough to try anything so extreme. But it is my husband who I must thank the most. It takes a strong man to handle the discovery that his wife is a complete pain slut without batting an eyelash. It takes a lot of guts for a guy to step up to the challenge of providing that pain, taking time to learn and practise and pushing us both out of our comfort zones. It takes a whole lot of love to keep on trying new things, exploring exciting adventures together. I can’t emphasise enough how lucky I am to have this man in my life. He’s my soul mate.

Yeah, maybe I should have started out with a warning about slop and sentimentality. If you’ve made it this far, well done you. We’re getting to the kinky stuff.

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Ever since first going to MARS we’ve wanted to have fun in the medical room and for one reason or another never managed it…until last night. Now, we’ve not got any particular medical fetishes but it’s just such a compelling room with a supremely comfortable, moveable chair.

Dr.Blisse took me swiftly in hand. My inner thighs didn’t know what hit them…well, no, I knew everything because I could see it all…except when I was really scared and shut my eyes. There were the floggers, some hand made by my talented husband and the paddles. The one that caused the most damage was a simple, sweet looking paracord flogger in bright rainbow colours. The hard knotted ends make it a complete bastard when it strikes!

My thighs were on fire, I was on fire and completely under my gorgeous husband’s control. I was so very turned on and not afraid to show it because of the private nature of the room. Mind you, any inquisitive voyeur could have looked in if they’d wanted to, that added a certain sizzle to the whole scene. And it was as he hit me over and over again with the yobi (hm, I seem to like that little fucker) I experienced the very peak of ecstasy…and he noticed.

“Did you come?” He asked, leaning over me, kissing my lips.

“Uh-huh.” I nodded.

“Naughty, girl.”

I was beaten into a wet, submissive mess and it was most certainly the highlight of my day but it wasn’t the end of my beatings. After a little time to recover on the sofa, the laughter, the calls and the applause from the dungeon called to me. There was an interesting game in session and when Panda said:

“Do you want a go?” I eagerly agreed. Party games are fun, right? Yeah. Now, I’ve never played kerplunk and it showed. I approached the round wooden tower, intersected with sticks and took the plunge…and grabbed the wrong end, great start huh? So by the time I released my stick there was a waterfall of marbles…29 to be precise.

So, that’s when I learnt that was the number of strikes I would take, on the arse (Thank God the predominant colour was blue) and the instrument of torture…the Kendo cane. Now, everyone else was panicking, they seemed very worried about me taking such a beating. They clearly didn’t know that I’m a bit – okay, a lot—of a kendo fan.

My awesome husband has never used a kendo on me before and he did brilliantly well. I had to count each strike, which was something new. The first 10 weren’t too bad, maybe Kev was getting into his swing and also he started with the thinnest, lightest of Panda’s 3 Kendos.

It was amazing to be hit with an audience, it really fed the exhibitionist in me. I loved hearing the gasps, the exclamations, the whoops of encouragement. I needed them too. Kev hit his stride around stroke thirteen. I remember asking for a moment to gather myself. I continued. My bum was aching, hard and sore but I was just concentrating on each strike, making sure to count it and pacing my breath for the next.

It was a relief to get the break at the 20th strike as Kev changed cane to the widest. It was a few hits in to the last ten when a friendly, helpful voice in the crowd shouted out

“Try hitting it more at the end.”

Thanks, Sensei, because that is how to make it really fucking hurt. I was dancing by stroke 25, tapping my feet, trotting up and down, bending my knees with each impact. The last shook me so much, I thought I might actually collapse to the floor but I didn’t, I held myself up on the spanking bench (a new friend maybe?) and was deafened by the applause and whoops. That was elating in itself.

Panda, bless her embraced me, insisted on getting me a drink too. She was far more shook up than me, I think. My arse was wonderfully stingy. I sat with Kev and just basked in the endorphins whizzing around my body. Then another round of the game commenced.

I got just one punishment this time (managed to pull out a stick without a single marble falling) but the one I got was a bastard. 10 with the cane. I hate canes, I hate them, I hate them, I hate them and I love them with an evil, consuming lustful hate.

So I knelt upon the spanking bench this time to lift my butt up. I did not want cane marks over kendo bruises, not in public anyway, it would break me. Kev took it easy on a few of the strikes, thank God. He knows that the cane kills me but it was still a challenge to get through the ten, though he struck them quickly and so the developing burn didn’t hit until completely ‘til he’d administered the last.

He surprised me by volunteering to play himself, I know he likes a bit of pain but he’s not the exhibitionist I am. I got to whip his thigh, just twice though, but then I got to inflict 34 strikes of the dragontail on his butt. Oooooh that was fun. I cackled a few times when I made the tail crack on his arse. Ah, being switchy is fun, I do have a teeny, tiny sadistic streak that giggles with glee when I let it out to play.

It was such an amazingly good way to celebrate our love. I am so proud to be the wife of an amazing man, so blessed that he’s also my best friend and so ecstatic that we’re on this kinky new journey together.

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