“I am going to fucking break you tonight.”
The words stung me, even though I meant them with the same sincerity and feelings that are evoked when I tell Leigh “I love you.” And in a way I was telling her the same thing, only this meant spanking her exposed ass to the point of her surrendering uncontrollable tears of joy, pain, freedom and love. There was no alternative. It was either reduce her spirit to ashes or just kiss her on the cheek and go to bed early. Tonight would be the night she crossed her own kinky Rubicon, albeit standing up in that she wouldn’t be able to sit down for days.
“I love you so much baby” I whispered into her eyes as I cupped that timeless face of hers in my hands. “I want to set you free from the chains of reality and let you float away into the unknown.” I leaned in close and rested my forehead to hers, our eyes mere inches from each other’s. A shared smile as I paused to breath in the stunning beauty in my literal grasp. “I am going to push you further than you have ever been before. I’m going to say some very nasty things, call you vulgar names, insult you. I am going to beat that lovely ass of yours so fucking hard for so fucking long. I want to give you the gift of total and complete surrender. So please baby, please, just remember…”
I stabbed her eyes with my gaze at this moment…
“…that no matter where you are, how far you go inside yourself, how far and high you float away…that I am holding you on my lap. That I’m with you no matter where you are. That I adore you…”
The perfection that is her blue eyes welled up with moisture right then, so fucking beautiful my doll is…
“…and that I love you so much. Just please remember you are not alone as you fly. I have you. I’ll look after your body. When its time to let go…” and we both paused, knowing what that meant, “..its OK to let go of reality. Go ahead and release your grip on the edge of this world and fall into that black unknown. I have you. I’ll hold you. I’ll be here when you get back.” And I smiled. As did she.
A long, soft, gentle kiss followed. If there ever was a calm before the storm, this was it. On its break I went over the safe words for the evening. We use the “traffic signal” terms that are common place in BDSM. “Yellow” means “Slow down what you are doing. You are approaching a hard limit.” This tells me that she is genuinely concerned or in pain that is not enjoyable, but allows her to stay in scene. It also allows her to beg, plead, whine and cry for mercy such as “NO!”, “STOP!” or “PLEASE NO MORE!!” and I can basically ignore all of those in that its just her surrendering vocally. Of course, I am completely focused on her; how she is breathing, her body language, sounds, all of that. Many people who have never Topped before quickly learn how fucking demanding Dominating someone really is. I joke with Leigh that she has the easy job of receiving pain and torment, of one forced orgasm after another.
Then there is “Red”, which means “Stop everything.” This means the scene is over. And now. Neither of us want to hear her say this. For her, in essence, she is admitting defeat in the best case scenario. Worst case scenario is that I have either physically or, far worse, emotionally hurt her. We don’t play with such aspects as serious breath control, suspensions, piercing, rape, etc. that would constitute a more legitimate and proper format for “Red.” For us it would mean one thing primarily.
That I fucked up as her Sir.
That I let her down. Abused a trust. Got sloppy with some play or toys, maybe a technique. That my emotions took over and I was seduced by the heat of the moment. It may sound odd, but to give her what she needs I need to be totally selfish, a cold-hearted bastard who is using her various charms, orifices and fear for my own sadistic pleasure. Pleasure that many times has no obvious sexual impact or ramifications on me. No, I do not sport a massive, cunt tearing erection the whole time I am toying with her Trust. Sometimes I do. But it’s not about sex, at least for me. I do know that once she comes back from That It Is Where She Goes that Leigh will be hornier than a 13-year-old boy left unsupervised with an Internet connection and a bottle of baby oil.
If we were using gags we would establish hand signals (pinkies touching thumbs, if you must know) but in that the only gags planned this evening were her own on choked tears this was not required.
So with safe words and safe harbor established, it was time.
She got an excited glimmer in her eye, asked to be excused for a moment and disappeared into the kitchen. This gave me a moment to collect my thoughts, gather myself, focus on the task at hand (heh) and make sure everything was set for the scene. I placed the hair brush within arm’s reach of a chair that was going to be The Altar, if you will, of tonight’s role play. I rolled the black brush in my hand, the candlelight making distorted patterns off its highly polished backside (heh again). I told her I wanted it so clean that I could use it as a mirror if I so chose. Well fuck if it wasn’t so. Such a good girl.
The bedroom door softly closed and I looked up to see Leigh standing there, twirling a red, heart-shaped lollipop in her mouth. I grinned loudly, if that’s possible. Leave it to her to remember some stash of candy from a party or evening and that it would make the already perfect Catholic school girl ensemble over the top. No lollipop ever had it so good.
I stood from the chair, took one last deep breath, and walked over to her. It was starting…..now.