Tuesday marked a third visit to Madame in the space of a week. The first a brilliant shopping trip covered in my last blog, the second a great night out drinking. This, the third, a dungeon trip. We’d not visited the dungeon in around 6 weeks? Maybe more. My pain slut side was feeling… well… slutty. Little did I know how much.
We arrived at the dungeon and Madame had dressed in an outfit of things I’d paid for. For me as Her finsub, that’s a weak inducing sight. Whilst changing, I’d heard the ominous crack of the bullwhip as Madame practiced. That sound alone caused excitement through me.
I came down the stairs and put over the bench and my hands locked in place.
“How much of a pain slut are you feeling” She asked after picking out an array of implements.
“Very much,” came my reply. I wanted marking. Needed it. Which meant no warming up. Madame went straight into the cane. There is nothing quite like that initial smack as pain ripples through your body.
Madame expertly worked through varying canes and floggers ensuring my backside was made as red and as painful as possible. Even working down my thighs to ensure that everything would be red or sore.
As the cane change to a slightly thicker and harder one, Madame asked me to count each and reply with “One, Thank You Madame…”. I loved this. Thanking Her for each hit. And with each sub-space came on more and more.
She moved into the flogger and asked how many I could take successively. I assumed that I was to count them. After the first I tried to say “One, Tha-” but that’s was as far as I got before the second, third… came. Madame laughed after the barrage and said She did say they’d be quick.
I was unbuckled from the bench. I knew what was coming next… those ominous cracks earlier rattled in my head again. It’s a mean sound. And yet the pain slut in me wanted it.
Madame attached me to the cross. I know I’m feeling weak when I start staring helplessly at Her doing this. My mind started preparing itself for the onslaught of pain that I would take.
Now, before I carry on – please please please understand that this is all consensual. We use safe words and throughout the bullwhip (and everything else) Madame has my best interests at heart and will ensure I am good and safe.
The last time we’d done this before and had reached 20 strikes. I wanted to beat this, and, don’t ask why, but I have a thing for wanting to bleed. Sadly last time, my skin didn’t break. My skin apparently unbreakable.
Madame moved back and waited for my first nod of readiness.
The first crack went right across my back and I squealed in pain.
Quickly taking in deep breaths, encouraged by Madame to breath deeply through the pain. That helps. I can’t tell you how much. By the time lash 5 hit my back, you can’t believe how much this helps. The mind tells you to, but is working hard on covering the pain, so having that audible reminder to take in deep breaths rather than short, shallow, makes a difference.
Every time I turned and nodded to accept another and another. Around lash 7 I decided to count out loud and thank Madame for it. I thought that would help deflect the pain. It kind of did, but counting becomes harder. It was around lash 8 that we hit barrier one. Madame came over to inspect the last lash and said:
This was exciting to me. We’d always assumed I had leather skin that was unbreakable. Not anymore. This time welts and bruises appeared quicker and my skin broke.
At this point as Madame resumed Her position, I remember doing a little leg dance of excitement. We’d done it. Bleeding!
The next lash was excruciating and took me out of the bleeding reverie. As a pain slut, I love it though and it makes me feel sub. So very very sub. As we reached the 20th lash I felt more joy. Madame showed me photos of my back and what it looked like and it was raw.
I nodded and received hit 21. Breaking the previous record. Each hit was more painful than the last. But I felt happy we’d reached this goal. And we went to 24. Each counted out and thanked.
Will I try and beat this next time? Well, yes.
I was allowed down from the cross. And asked if ballbusting or shoe worship. I was in a pain mood so opted for ball busting. Once in that space, I want to be hurt for Her, so this is the last ultimate kind of pain. Kicking my manhood (?) which is locked away because I serve Her.
Down on all fours the first kick had me keel over. But like a good girl, I crawled round to Madame’s boots and kissed them and said thank you.
The second kick connected directly with my balls and pain smacked me hard. I fell forward harder this time. It was perfect pain. So much pain as it sends the brain funny. Definitely worse than the first, and yet again I crawled around and kissed Her boots and said thank You. It is an honour to be kicked by Her.
Madame then had an idea and arranged the mirror so I could watch myself – not Her – watch myself being kicked. This was hard. My legs instinctively wanted to close and protect themselves – having been fine with it before – but the added humiliation of watching is too much. I managed to keep them open and watched. Ouch. So much ouch and pain. My back and backside were raw and throbbing and now my balls ached too.
She sat down and I crawled over and waited for permission to kiss Her boots. Boots I’d paid for last Tuesday and are now becoming a turn on for ballbusting. She teasingly moved her booted foot in my face before allowing me to kiss and worship.
I was in heaven. I know I’ve got a habit of moaning and whimpering at Her feet as the chastity does it job and stops me getting to aroused. I love being at Madame’s feet. I say it everytime but there is no better place for me.
During this time, I talked about Her sub-Christmas ideas. This is something I’ve done every year under Her Ownership, where on the run up to Christmas, I spoil Her for days with gifts and bits. This year, I am really excited to do it again. She deserves spoiling, and this year is going to be no different.
Then it happened…
So, I tweeted yesterday that something had happened. A “humiliating event”. Well, it did and a complete first for me.
As we talked about Her Christmas present ideas (fricking excited about that), I was deep in sub space. Whimpering. Chastity for 165 days. I asked to take off Madame’s boots to smell Her socks. As I took off the boot, I saw they were socks I’d paid for, beautiful blue with black patterns. On Her feet, they looked exceptional. Anything would, but something I’ve paid for, adds to my weakness.
My God. The smell of Madame’s socks was absolutely heavenly. I buried my nose in Her toes and took deep long breaths. On the shop last Tuesday, Madame had given me a pair of Her “ripe” socks which I adore (I’m sniffing those in my current avi picture on Twitter – sock slut!) – these smelt just as perfect. Madame smiled at my reaction, the smell drove me wild. It is such a treat to smell Madame’s feet like that – it’s a treat. For the next 5 minutes I enjoyed the smell and can only describe it was “it drove me wild”. Like a cat in heat. There was just something about that smell. Perfect.
Madame then said about the other boot, because that would be fresher, because the sock I was sniffing had been aired for a while.
If you hadn’t guessed, Madame’s feet are utterly perfect to me.
“Before I do, I’d like to say how much my collar means to me,” I said rubbing Her boot. I take my collar so seriously. It means the world to me in every way that She owns me, and that I get to be at Her feet, and do what I do for Her. I will always describe myself as lucky.
She smiled at my weakness for Her, and I took off that second boot. That perfectly scented blue sock. I stared at it for a moment. Taking in the sight of what I consider perfection. Savouring the look of the sock.
I buried my nose again, murmuring; “oh fuck” as I enjoyed the scent. I loved every second, whimpering and moaning. But things started changing, and I could feel a feeling building inside me.
Madame picked up on it too. Vocalising what had hit me: “Are you close to a sissygasm?”.
I nodded, “I could leak” I replied and She laughed. But that seemed to be the catalyst. I sniffed harder on Her socks and could feel it building and building inside me. My hands were on Her feet. Chastity locked tight and yet with no contact I could feel a sissygasm bubbling.
“Oh… oh there it is…” Madame said, leaning forward and watching intently. Fascinated as I sniffed and the feeling built up on my face.
Then it hit.
I can’t describe it.
What I thought would be a leak, turned into slightly more as the smell of Madame’s beautiful socked feet sent me over the edge and into a sissygasm.
Just the smell alone.
I couldn’t believe it. Madame burst into laughing. Her feet. The smell, had caused me to sissygasm.
I crawled over to the table to get some tissue to clean myself up and said two words which sent Madame into even more fits of laughter.
I got back down on my knees. I apologised. I knew Madame wasn’t mad at me, but more at the completely unexpected reaction. I kissed Her foot and buried my nose again. After a few minutes, I fetched Her money and carried on sniffing. Madame asked “What happened there?” and I couldn’t explain it. The absolute mixture of perfect feelings; the pain, the pleasure at being at Madame’s feet and that sock smell – fresh from Her boots – had just sent me over the edge.
It was humiliating. Truly. I never knew that could happen. But at the same time, and with hindsight, it makes me happy and proud. That Madame has that much control and a hold on me, that the smell of Her feet now can cause such a reaction. I’m sure it could happen again, that smell… I dream about it now.
And so the session ended. Perfect pain, pleasure and humiliation.
I always end my blogs with something very positive to say about my time with Madame, and this will be no different. With Madame, I have a truly exceptional and special Owner and friend. We have a laugh and can have days like this where a new experience will happen and be so very perfect.