Desperate for a caning (E)

"Dark Princess" by kassiusgladius, found on Lunar Black

Her... not me. She wanted to play with the cane. No, she was desperate to give me a caning...

I love it when my Goddess is in the mood for the cane. I can't say I ever look forward to a caning per se. It hurts. Sometimes, it really hurts.

Of course, it's unbelievably hot and sexy, in a D/s, BDSM kind of way. But what I really look forward to is to submit to a caning from my Goddess. Once the cuffs have been locked and clipped, or I've been otherwise bound, and she has ordered me into position, I love how her dominance grows as my submissiveness deepens... I love the exchange of energy as I gradually surrender more and more, and she gets increasingly empowered... I love the flow of that uniquely D/s force that surrounds us and overtakes us as the veil of subspace moves over me and as she gets sexually and emotionally excited and turned on by hurting me. Hard or soft... fast or slow... long or short... simply because she's in the mood for it... simply because we wants it... simply because she feels like expressing her power and dominance...

Last week, we had one of those moments. The final click of the locks and clips (the usual collar, wrist cuffs, and ankle cuffs) had barely finished resonating that I was ordered onto the bed on all-fours. A blindfold was added. And in a matter of seconds, the first taps of the hard-plastic violet cane came down on my backside.

The taps didn't last long. We couldn't have gone much beyond double-digits hits before they became bonafide strokes. My Goddess played with me, varying the intensity, throwing some hard stokes in with the gentler ones, and some gentle strokes amidst the hard ones. She could tell when I was bearing down for a crescendo, and surprised me by holding back on some strokes. And then when I was relaxing and getting into a groove, she would come down with a stroke whose swoosh I heard, but only too late, as the velocity of the cane had done its damage. The mindfuckery contributed as much to the experience as did the pain.

My mind started slipping away... drifting... the tether of reality pulling back on it when I received strokes I can only describe as searing . Those strokes came down hard, sharp, lasting, deep. They caused reactions I could no longer control... legs partially straightening as the shock of the impact ran through my body... some forceful exhales... a light sweat breaking on my forehead and over my back. ..

The unpredictable pacing and intensity continued. Somewhere between hits, my Goddess was enjoying the brush strokes on the canvas. Seriously... seriously, is there anything BDSM-hotter than your loving dominant partner cooing at the marks they've inflicted, and how beautiful they'll be the next day? Than feeling the joy and excitement in her voice when she tells you playfully how much she's enjoying the colors and patterns she's painting on your body?

As my own reactions became quite a bit more, well, vocal and physical, my Goddess decided that she was done. She quickly climbed onto the bed, pushed me on my side, caressed me gently for a few moments, and removed the blindfold. But now, she was so excited that she just tossed the cane to the side, grabbed my hair with one hand and the D-ring of my collar with the other, reclined onto her back, and pulled my head into her sacred feminine area.

While she was done with the caning, clearly she was not done yet with me. She had other needs that had come up, and that I was required to meet...