Birthday Beating

I’m not going to start this blog with “it’s been a while”. Yes, it has. But good things come to those who wait.

Yesterday marked me levelling up in age and a visit to Madame and Sir for the day. The day itself was epic, and i’m extremely lucky to have these two amazing friends in my life. That is actual factual.

Part of my birthday celebrations (technically, my birthday was Sunday, but that was deemed “pre-birthday” ahead of my proper birthday on Monday), was a dungeon trip. Eeeek. With the added bonus that I would pick what Madame wore, and what shoes – as my birthday treat. Literally anything. What did I go for? My weakness of Madame in clothes I’ve bought, and a pair of white sandals which are quickly become a fetish in themselves!

We got to the dungeon in blistering heat and turned on all of the fans. I stripped down to panties – not dress or wig in this heat and got on my knees in front of Madame. The gas mask went on, and the weakening of me started.

Madame can work the gas mask and control my breathing like an absolute pro. She knows the rise and falls of my breathing, how to make me weak slowly and how to make it come on like a freight train. Madame changed the hose from stopping my breathing on Her foot which was immense, to smelling Her hair which is my absolute weakness, to Her neck – where She commented, “you know it’s just my sweat you’re smelling,” to which I moaned in apprciation. I could feel my chastity cage twitching. I’m not kidding when I say, if allowed, I could have sissygasmed right there and then in my panties. But it wasn’t, and so we went on.

“How long do you think you can go?” Madame said, and started counting. The first attempt with no breath took me to 20 seconds. I breathed heavily from the assault on my breathing – but loving every single second. The came the second attempt – the hose on Her foot and I stared desperately at Her foot as it cut off my breath. I honestly can’t remember to well what we got to – I want to say around 35 seconds, but I was weak. It’s funny how easily giving someone control of something so basic can induce absolute sub-space in me.

Madame stood and headed to the bench. “Are we going straight in for marks?” She asked, already knowing the answer. I nodded as She strapped me down and the beating commence.

Madame worked through canes, floggers, whips and paddles, and with Sir there too lending a hand to bring my backside to a mess of red marks and welts. And now just my backside, my back was scratched as Madame leaned across me, taunting me and my feet, and things are caned to make sure I was red all over.

At one particular moment, Madame put Her foot in my face, and used the meanest of floggers on my things and balls whilst I desperately tried to sniff Her feet in between moans as the flogger connected and sent a burst of pain tingling through my body.

There is no doubt i’m a pain slut, and Madame asked me what I was, with the right answer being “a slut”. I moaned. I loved every second, but this was only part 1 of the beating.

Madame unstrapped me and led me to the St Andrew’s Cross. Bull whip time. Yes. My best friend and thing I dread. A little. OK, don’t dread. Crave. I know it makes a mess of my back, but I love it. Love it. Love it.

Madame, again, like everything, is a pro. An absolute pro and getting this thing to hit me and getting me to moan in pain and the bring on the sub. I mean, I was in full on sub space at this point, but this just increases that and pushes and pushes it further.

As always, Madame asked me to confirm the safe words. I say it everytime, but this whip is evil and confirming that we’re all happy is an absolute must.

I wasn’t sure how much of this I could take – it’s been a couple of months since its last use. The first one lashes across my back, licking the side of my body as it wraps around. I welp in pain and count it off. “One, thank You Madame.” Madame inspects Her work and makes sure i’m ok, before going back to position and waiting for me to nod to confirm, i’m ready for the next. This went to 6 or 7, and my back was raw. Welts were rising quickly, but apparently my skin is leather so will not break and bleed.

Sir, after turning down the chance to use “such a mean thing” decides He wants a try. I wait and it wacks across. Forgive me, if i don’t get the number’s right, but I thank Sir, for it; “9, thank You Sir.” I can hear Madame laughing behind me as Sir seems to really enjoy this, his interest peaked from not wanting to try, to wanting to use it.

But it turns out that my location on the cross isn’t quite right, so He pulls me, strapped to the cross to a better position. This invokes laughter from us all – and this is what I fricking love so much about the relationship I have here – it’s fun and still has that D’s feel. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I joke that I feel like a cat on a roomba vaccum cleaner getting pulled around.

Eventually, i’m put in the right place and the laughing stops. Sir is clearly ready and I prep myself. And WHACK! I kid you not. WHACK. I’m sure it was a noise heard around the world. It slammed across my back, the noise was deafening and the pain even more.

“13, thank You Sir.”

I’m moved again, as Madame and Sir discuss how best to get marks along my back and decide to try vertical. The pain is just as intense. And perfect.

I should say at this point my record is 24. We reach 20 and I decide to go for it. Madame obliges. And whips my back, almost drawing blood – certainly blood blisters – and we get to 25. A new record. And my back is a mess. I’m let down and inspect the handiwork in the mirror – i’ve got an X under my arm – my back is welted. And it’s perfect. Seriously perfect.

I get on my knees and sit in front of Madame, who perches on the throne, and puts that white sandal near my face. Now, I have no idea why these are such a fetish for me, but they are. The level of kissing Her feet, to give you some context, is with more passion than I’ve ever kissed a woman. I adore Her feet. And these sandals are a HUGE part of that. The soles of them are dirty – I lick, tasting the dirt from where She has walked. It’s perfect. I can feel a sissygasm building and ask if I’m allowed.

“What do you think?” Madame replies. And I know it’s allowed.

I kiss Her foot, the sandals and then feel the inevitable leak hitting me. Madame slips off the sandals and I continue to worship, literally the most perfect, and beautiful feet in the world. No exageration. They smell divine. I’m writing this, and can literally feel my chastity twitching at the thought of Her feet. Her toes, soles, just everything is beautiful and makes me so weak and needy.

“Pass me my boots,” She says. And I know what’s coming.

I put them on Her feet and assume the position. The kick to my chastised balls is quick and brutal. I fall forward but remember my position and crawl back around and start kissing Her boot. The thing with the first kick, is I find it easy to hold position, but onwards, my body reflexes want to kick in (no pun intended) and close my legs to stop it.

I assume the position for kick two and feel my legs wanting to close. It’s hard to make it stop, but Madame lands the kick perfectly and I tumble forward. Sub mode is in full swing. It has been since the gas mask and I can feel the twitching in my chastity cage. I return to boot kissing. And Madame grabs the white sandal and starts beating me raw backside with it. This is just amazing. Heaven. Perfect. Whatever superalitives you want to use can be inserted here.

I spread my legs again. My legs closing involuntarily. Madame starts beating my ass with the sandal to keep me in place, saying She’ll keep going until i’m in position. She positions Her legsto stop my legs from closing. I’m whimpering. I want more, but my legs want to close- damn my legs!

The hit comes from the sandal. Not Her feet. A slap with that sandal. Absolute fetish heaven and another reason I am pretty sure I have a fetish for these sandals. I kiss Her boots. And then comes the last kick. But the sandal beating continues until I’m in place which is more of a struggle – damn you legs!!! I WANT THIS! I eventually find position but Madame isn’t going to let me get away with a quick kick. No, She fakes, She delays, She laughs… before delivering a kick that is harder by far than the previous 3. And I love it. My God it’s perfect.

I’m told to get on my back to try something we did last time that had me in pieces of sub heaven. I lay on my back and Madame takes off the boots and proceeds to stand on me. Stomping on the cage. This is heaven. She carefully places Her feet around my chest and groin sending me into palpitations of sub-heaven. Seeing Her standing over me, and on me. Yes. So much yes.

She get’s off and starts putting pressure with Her foot on my chastity cage. And, inevitably, I sissygasm, Madame quickly puts Her foot in my mouth to make sure no yukkie sissygasm is on Her perfect foot.

She returns to the throne, I follow and start kissing Her foot. It’s perfect, She clamps Her toes over my nose and moves me around. This causes the third sissygasm. The look on Her face is one of satisfaction.

I kiss Her foot more and can feel a third building. She plays with Her toes in front of my face, Her big toe goes into my mouth and I sissygasm for the fourth and final time.

This, is up there with one of my favourite sessions. Ever. It had everything.

Later on that evening, as we were chilling out playing drinking games, one of the questions came up that “who hasn’t had sex in the longest – finish their drink”. Needless to say, that was me. And do you know what, I wouldn’t change any of this for the world.

This blog just covers the fetish side of the day. Just to add this; Madame and Sir – literally made my birthday this year. The thought and effort, and gifts they got me – i’m eternally grateful for and am incredibly happy.

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