This post is on a phenomenon that could be called extreme, so don’t read if you will be offended. It is only for the experienced!
Mistress Nicola was over. I have mentioned she is a true sadist and sees submissive males as utensils to use to gain pleasure from by the acts of tormenting them, either physically or with humiliation and degradation. Of course, I am the same, but Mistress Nicola has a pure approach that excludes all pity or mercy.
She was punishing bitch-boy. He was bent over, face down over the dining table, wrists bound behind his back and ankles bound together and thighs bound together. It was a deterrent punishment not long after she arrived. Such was her pleasure in this activity that when I stepped forward to take a turn, she said I could simply sit and relax and watch as it would be sometime before she tired of the activity. She knows I like to watch bitch-boy being tormented by another woman because I have handed over all authority over him. So I sat and, with great pleasure, watched.
After a while bitch-boy began to plead and plead, and then sob and sob. The point of this post is to comment on the power rush that comes from carrying on relentlessly with punishment while totally ignoring the pleading or sobbing that goes on and on and on. Of course, the pleading and sobbing is not truly ignored. It is heard and with pleasure, absorbed as part of the overall experience. The power rush is HUGE from this!
He was punished a couple of other times for actual infractions but the punishments were short and SHARP. (He was also humiliated a great deal – indoors and outdoors, but that’s another matter.)
Then came a second episode of ignoring relentless pleading and begging. The great UK 2018 summer has meant that stinging nettles mown away in the verges have sprouted back to life. I had some nettle stems, small but being pre-flowering and young, VERY, VERY stinging! bitch-boy was secured to the BDSM bed, legs wide apart in the gynaecological stirrups. The nettle apron was put in place. I held the metal tongs and Mistress Nicola, wearing gloves, held a nettle stem. She began to whip his little clitty and I continuously moved his clitty, this way and that, to expose virgin territory. This nettle whipping of his clitty went on and ON AND ON AND ON! When it seemed a nettle stem had been exhausted, a fresh stem was used. He had begun to plead and plead almost immediately, and after a while plead and sob, but over five minutes later there was still no let up in the nettle whipping. (One minute is usually enough for serious agony.)
Such was the eroticism and power rush of this intense VERY, VERY prolonged cruelty, and utterly ignored pleading and sobbing, that although Nicola had intended to leave for home immediately after the nettles, instead we both went to my bed for shared huge orgasms before she left!
I wonder if any followers of my blog have experience as the punisher or pleader when the pleading goes on for a very long tome because the torment does too?