Last night I went to my second ever munch (http://www.assdisc.com/blog/?p=208 is an entry about my first munch last month) and was subjected to a beating in which I was yelling at the top of my lungs and begging for mercy. Fortunately, these two incidents did not occur at the same place.
When I got home from the munch my wife punished me for going to the munch and she berated me for it. Okay, I’m stretching the truth more than a fist in a tight ass. My wife encouraged me to go and afterward she told me that she is very glad I went, seeing how energized I was after it. Also, my wife and I are so firm in our monogamy that she knows I would never remotely flirt with anyone but her, I know that she knows this, and she knows that I know that she knows that. So she can feel very comfortable in funishing me for flirting or hooking up with others because it’s 100% role-playing. We don’t role-play usually but sometimes she likes to find things to funish me for and anything which makes her skirt fly up is okay in my book. And in my case it isn’t role-playing at all to deny that I was flirting while she is funishing me.
Anywho, I got ahead of myself.
The munch was fun again. A M/f couple sat next to me and I introduced myself to the woman sitting next to me. We talked about her experiences at the Folsom Street Fair this past weekend (I did not go but maybe next year) and a few other BDSM-related topics. I introduced myself to a few others nearby and we talked. There was someone new to BDSM and we talked about different things such as how it feels to be zapped by a violet wand or her interest in knives.
A dominant man indicated to me that I should get a knapsack and put it over my wife to bring her to the munch but I pointed out that I am her sub and she is my dominant so that wouldn’t work out. That led to a brief discussion about abduction play (which seems very exciting to me, but then again so do most BDSM activities).
Side note: if anyone from the munch is reading this it must be very strange to read someone else’s blog about discussions you had, sorry about that.
There was talk about a different munch which had a different format with demos and/or group discussions and that seemed interesting to me. The leader of that munch walked over to our area to introduce himself to two of us and we talked about how munches differ etc. That was very nice of him to introduce himself like that because it is difficult to meet others in the room beyond the few nearby and I don’t feel comfortable walking across a room to sit next to someone and introduce myself.
I was sitting in a chair at a table and about two feet behind me was a wall. At one point I was talking to a couple next to me who had been going to this munch for 15 years — that is great, I wonder what my life will be like in 15 years? — when to my left someone appeared. I looked and it was <BDSM celebrity name omitted>! Yes, that <BDSM celebrity name omitted>! Same as last month. He was catching up with the person next to me, how are you doing etc. At a slight break in the discussion I reached out my hand and introduced myself. He is a very good public speaker, of course, and entertaining to talk with, though the talk was mostly about a non-BDSM-related issue. I guess about 15 minutes later he was leaving so he reached out his hand to shake hands goodbye.
It was a fun munch.
When I got home I was told to be on the floor rubbing my wife’s feet as I told her about it. Oh I know, I make it seem so dire “I was told to be …” but the words are the truth even though the negative tone is ridiculous. I love being required to do most anything by my wife and also I love being at her feet and I love providing service to her and I love the enjoyment she gets and etc..
Once I mentioned to my wife having discussed at the munch the violet wand that sparked something in my wife, so to speak. She waited until I was done talking about the munch and then told me to lie on my back on the floor. She then retrieved our neon wand (similar to a violet wand) and sat on the edge of our bed, using her left foot to hold down my thigh and her right foot to hold down my chest. A bit later she moved her right foot up to my mouth to press down on my face. She held me down in this way as she zapped me with the neon wand. A whole lot.
Face up seems to be her favorite for the neon wand because it means two things: nipples and especially groin. She was particularly wicked and she had to remind me several times not to move my hands from the back of my head. I don’t know how she can handle hearing me scream so much. Oh yeah, her foot was over my mouth for most of the time. And oh yeah, and she’s a sadist!
As always when she uses the wand, she laughs when I react. I almost always react, because I’m a wimp when it comes to pain, so she was laughing a whole lot. She kept focusing on my head (not the head at the top of my body) and geez does that hurt, not to mention also freaks me out. Who on earth makes these torture devices?
It was a longer zapping session than usual and time being tortured really puts me in the victim mentality, even more than intensity does.
Tangent time. I wonder how it is for others? Would you prefer a longer but not super intense session or a shorter but super intense session? I’d take longer anytime as long as the pain is not too severe but also without too long of a break (a long pause sometimes breaks the victimization feeling, though short breaks do not).
While she was torturing me she was telling me how much of a slut I was for going to munches and how she is going to make me pay for flirting with others (she was just funnin’ me with this). At a quiet moment between zaps I commented that if she were so-and-so, the name of a M/f Owner/property couple we met on FetLife, she would be peeing on me to re-mark her property and we laughed about that because they are a fun couple to message with (you two know who you are!). Then my wife resumed the torture.
So that was it, she got her sadism out of her system. Wrong. She had me lie on the bed face down parallel to the edge and she used one of her impact toys on me. Honestly, for some reason I can’t remember which one, it wasn’t the paddle, crop, or my belt. After a few minutes she said “What is that?” I said “What?” and she pointed to the small wet spot on the bed under the middle of my body. I didn’t know but I figured it wasn’t rocket surgery so I said “Pre-cum” and she said “Lick it.”
This was a first for me but I knew not to hesitate. As an aside, I am learning not to hesitate even one bit with her more humiliating or cruel commands. I am a very analytical person. Whenever most anything happens I think. I am learning to react first with obedience to her commands and then think later, meaning that just a fraction of a second after I am in the process of obeying her my mind starts to think and by that time it’s just behind the scenes with no hesitation of obedience.
So I licked the wet spot. All I tasted was the bed sheet but my wife laughed at me nonetheless. (I think she would be surprised to know that I would be fine with whatever she wanted to do with this, including the re-marking I mentioned earlier or nothing else at all if she preferred, but let’s just keep that between you and me ok?)
Next, my wife had me stand with my palms leaning against the wall as she cracked her beginner’s bullwhip against me. I think it had been over a month since I felt that. It isn’t nearly as painful at first as the other impact implements but the pain builds when the same spots are hit, and eventually I am yelling in pain as usual. She likes me to shake my behind anticipating blows and that makes her laugh so I do that, plus her laughing usually gives me a bit of a reprieve from time to time (don’t tell her I said that lol; ah heck, she reads this blog, I’m not fooling anyone).
My wife and I recently went to a BDSM store and one of the implements she tried out on me was a hard loop sort of like a ping-pong paddle but with only the loop and not the interior of the paddle. It hurt! I mentioned that to a couple of FetLife friends and one of them told me that she hates the loop. Now in general I might say that I hate a particular implement but I am just role-playing because I love everything so I made a comment to my friend that oh sure you say you hate it but you really love it. Her response was a sort of dare to get the loop and then see how much I love it. Being new to BDSM, reading that from someone very experienced and actually masochistic was somewhat scary. “See how much you love it.”
My wife doubled up the bullwhip into a loop and then whacked my behind with it. It was a very different thing from the hard loop I mentioned (which was just a side tangent as to why my wife was doubling up the bullwhip) but it hurt like heck. She kept hitting the same spot and geez did it hurt, ten times more intense than the bullwhip itself which tapers towards the end. Using the thicker looped end, my wife hit me enough times for me not to be able to take it any more.
But I have two levels of that and I didn’t even think about safe wording. I can’t just stand there unbound and take a tough beating like that. Maybe it’s my lack of experience or maybe it’s my wimpiness, but I just can’t. So when the pain gets too intense whether on the bed or standing, I move out of harm’s way. I understand that can be dangerous if my wife isn’t ready for that but I just can’t stand there. I apologize your honor, I just can’t do it.
My wife told me to get back in place so I did, and then she continued to whack the same spots over and over, despite my screaming (or more likely because of my screaming!). I moved out of harm’s way again, I just couldn’t stand there.
Where is the bondage? Help me! Or at least where are the damn endorphins?!
After my second move-out-of-harm’s-way my wife had me lie on the bed face down again and she retrieved the crop. I was already feeling very victimized from the action already and in turning my head I could see in her face and body language that she meant business. Oh shit.
She f’ed me up with that crop, all over my butt, thighs, calves, and back. It’s such a simple toy, it shouldn’t cause much pain. Whack whack whack whack whack whack whack whack whack whack with only a bit of occasional pausing. Can’t she hear my screaming? Doesn’t she understand that her loving husband is in agony? I love having these sort of thoughts in my head during torture, it means that I am really feeling the victimization (maybe I should write a separate post about that feeling?). I never ask for torture, it’s always at her whim. And her whim was to have me scream. (I loved every moment of it, just in case that wasn’t clear.)
Finally she was done. I remember being aware that at one point due to the pain I could not really control saliva coming from my mouth. It’s strange to be aware of something you can’t control like that.
But she wasn’t done. She grabbed my belt and without hesitation strapped my back, butt, and thighs not for a long time but it was a whole bunch of strokes.
Finally she was done. For real this time. She lay next to me and hugged me, though she couldn’t resist somewhat sinking her nails into my skin causing me to whine some more.
Later my wife mentioned to me that I had almost safe worded and I said in surprise “Really? When?” She had interpreted my moving out of harm’s way as a sort of safe word and that makes sense. Probably for most subs/bottoms/pain-sluts that is the case but I just couldn’t stand there any more. I told her that I was not close to safe wording, though maybe I was and it had just not crossed my mind at the moment.
I actually did think about safe wording but it was when I was having that thought about not being able to control my own saliva. I was remembering at that moment a recent discussion I had with a FetLife friend about safe wording. I made a conscious decision not to safe word and I hadn’t really seriously considered it but my wife was right in that it did cross my mind.
So why am I in so much agony but able to think about things and then end up without marks which last more than 15-30 minutes? Answer = either it’s just the way I am (I have heard from an actual masochist who never marks, I don’t care either way about marks) or it’s because I’m a wimp. Either way, I am perfectly fine with it.
In any case, the moral of the story is that I need to go to munches as often as I can. 😉