The Twisted prompt works well for this H diary. Why? Because society has twisted and distorted my body image so much over the 40 years I’ve been alive and this is a little insight into how I’m fighting that. Some people might call what happens in this H diary twisted too, but if it is, curl me up and twist me tight ‘cos I don’t ever want it to stop!


Loving my Belly with Bruises


“Why did I bring you a weapon?” I squealed.

Their huge grin was all the answer I needed. Because they are a sadist and I am a masochist and I love it when they hurt me.

I found the implement at the BBB.  Purple, small, dagger shaped. Smooth leather one side, textured evil on the other side. As soon as I saw it I knew I had to buy it for H. When I hit myself with it, I was sold.

I gave it to them after we’d been playing for a while. My eyes shone as they wielded it, hit themselves a bit, then slapped the front of my thighs with it. Moments later I was laid across their lap and they were using both sides with stinging precision. I already had marks. H had already found and prodded them eagerly. Of course, they aimed to hit the existing marks, of course they did. Not just horizontally but vertically, taking in several cane marks at once.

I squealed and squirmed, kicked my legs and bit my hands. I felt safe and secure, their hand holding my hip, as they used the other to beat me. I felt their warmth around me. I heard their appreciation, felt it as they used the gift I’d given them to make my butt thoroughly hot, made me thoroughly hot all over actually.

After a thorough spanking they pulled me up for a kiss and as we sprawled together they used the implement a little more and of course they turned it to hit me with the thin side, which of course, really hurt. Sadists always discover surprising ways to hurt you don’t they?

That’s why I love this sadist so much. They’re always finding new ways to hurt me so good.

It was the next day, after the glorious humiliation that left me with their spit smeared on my face and the taste of their cum in my mouth when they asked where the new hitty was. I wasn’t sure, but they found it easily enough.

One of the fun things of playing with H is that quite often I’m as clothed when we end as when I started. So they started hitting my boobs just through the V of my lesbian shirt. I don’t know the sexual orientation of my shirt, it just makes me look like a lesbian, everyone says so. Anyway, to be helpful I popped open a button.

And yelped, because of course they could hit more flesh then. I kept popping open buttons until the shirt was wide open and H had my bra encased breasts and belly to go at.

They used all available canvas. Hitting hard and with purpose. Making me whine and shiver. They hit my stomach and I groaned. It’s not somewhere I’ve really experienced impact before.  Clearly, I’ve had their bites there, I had a couple of bite marks on my belly already that they aimed to hit, of course they did, of course.   And they’ve kicked my belly before but this was the first serious belly impact.

I liked it. I mean, it fucking hurt, the red stripes soon turned to bruises as they hit over and over again in the same place. The purple dagger hits with a thud and sting combo which I especially love and though I screamed, squealed and squeaked I took the pain as it came, to my stomach and to my breasts.

When they finished hitting, I was red all over.

“Oooh, I’m like a bird.” I exclaimed, “a red bellied Victoria.”

H poked my boob with the tip of the dagger and I squealed.

“You’re a red tit too,” He said with a grin.

“I’m a red bellied red tit!” I laughed.

Not long after I poked my belly and sigh happily.

“It’s all black now, Oooh, it looks like a dark storm cloud and lightning bolts this way up!”

I traced the outline to show H. The lightning bolts were the bruises running along stretch marks. They looked so beautiful. I’ve never thought them beautiful before, but darkened into lightning bolts I couldn’t think of anything prettier.

Well, apart from H.

Anyway, obvious flirting aside, I was staring at my stomach and I was loving it, seriously, deeply, madly loving it without even the hint of a negative thought at all. Honestly, until not long ago I didn’t think that was possible.

“This way up it looks like a dick.” They said, turning my clouds to balls and my lightening bolts to an erection. I still loved my tummy though for housing such pretty bruises.

“You put a penis on me!” I sighed dramatically, shaking my head and fighting a smile.

“Not for the first time.” They quipped and I couldn’t help but laugh.

I love H. I love their humour, I love their meanness. I especially love how they decorate me with pretty marks.

And you know what? The bruises on my belly merged and ended up looking like a love heart.

How perfect is that?

We’d been talking about getting little love heart tattoos on our bellies (we’ve both read Happy Fat by Sofie Hagen and it’s definitely had a positive effect on our relationships with our fat) and I really want to do that but this is a temporary love tattoo that makes me smile each time I look at it.

I can’t say I’ll always look at my tum with love but I will do it more and more often because of H and their loving bruises. My fat belly is the perfect soft canvas for their marks. Amongst other things but that, I think, is another writing completely.