The sensation or the sound?
The smooth surface of the paddle almost feels cool, but on impact, heat radiates across my bottom and over my entire my body. A thin sheen of sweat covers my skin. My scent fills the air around me.
But I pull away. I cry out as if he swung at full strength.
The crack of the impact has jarred my mind. I anticipated the heat and pain but not that sound. I don’t think I can take it. Make it stop!
Except, that red bloom of fire has already dissipated. I’m not ready for it to be gone. Come back!
So he does. Maybe it’s a sixth sense he’s developed over the years or maybe I gave off clear signals.
With each strike, I let the heat settle into my skin and brain before deciding…was that too much or just right?
He alternates from side to side, making only small adjustments to where the next strike will land. It’s like there’s a bullseye on my ass — a target he’s painting with the paddle.
He’s a musician, a maestro, a practiced study of the art of sensation and sound. Even the light taps sound like a fire cracker going off over my head. I jump, regardless of what I feel. He chuckles and continues.
What exactly am I reacting to? The sensation or the sound? Because the sensation is fiery, spreading like lava under my flesh. The sound is the lightning, a whip-like crack that startles me each time.
I wouldn’t want to get used to that sound. Maybe it wouldn’t have as big an effect on me if I did.
So which do I like best?
All of it. Every moment, even the ones I don’t think I can handle, even when my brain wants to run and hide from the pain, even when the sound of the paddle making contact scares me a little.
Both the sound and the sensation would be intriguing on their own, but together, they’re a firestorm of pleasure and pain.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! Not a lot of kinky sex to report, but as I’m the official tester of the weapons of ass destruction he makes, the kinky fuckery heats up when he starts experimenting. For actual smut, you know where to go!