Keira’s Kinky Journal


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 Double Domination – A free Short BDSM Story from Katy Swann

Keira keeps a secret, kinky  journal. It’s filled with naughty, kinky stories that nobody else is supposed to know about. Only Scott, her live-in boyfriend and Dom, knows of its existence. She started writing it just over two years ago when she finally admitted to herself that she was a submissive. Since then, she’s added to it regularly, documenting her saucy experiences in great detail.

I’m going to post an entry from that secret journal on a regular basis right here. If you subscribe to my website I’ll let you know every time a new entry has been posted and will provide a direct link for you. It’ll be like getting a regular supply of sexy, kinky short stories every week, completely free.

23rd March 2014

I’ve been a bit busy with work and family commitments recently so Scott and I haven’t had as much time for kink as we’d have liked. But that changed last night.

We’d been invited to a thirtieth birthday party, sailing up and down the River Thames on a privately hired boat. The host was Mike, a friend of Scotts, who is also a Dom and we knew it was going to be a good night because Mike’s parties are legendary. This was going to be a party like no other. There’d be music, dancing and even food, but there’d also be a dungeon on the lower deck. We were going to a BDSM dungeon party.

When we boarded the boat we were greeted by two male slaves. Tall, muscular and beautifully oiled, they were a sexy sight as they welcomed us on board. We were ushered to the main bar for welcome drinks where Mike introduced us to some of his many flamboyant friends. I was so excited. These people were beautiful, outrageous and looked seriously hot in their designer fetish wear. I must admit I was very aware of my more modest outfit of black leather corset and matching mini skirt. Scott looked shit hot in his sexy leather trousers and black leather waistcoat, but that was nothing compared to the brightly coloured latex outfits worn by so many of Mike’s friends. We didn’t feel out of place though, his friends were lovely and chatted to us as if we’d known them for years. That’s the thing about the fetish world. I find that people are so friendly, which is ironic really given the nature of the scene.

As another champagne cork popped, Mike announced that we were about to cast off so we all crowded onto the aft deck to wave goodbye to the gawping tourists. We must have made a very interesting sight.

Once the boat had pulled away from the mooring, we stayed on the deck sipping champagne and admiring the view as the boat sailed towards Tower Bridge. It was a lovely evening and London looked beautiful against the orange glow of the setting sun. Scott slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear as we passed under the impressive bridge. His breath tickled my neck and sent a little shiver through my body. His words carried the promise that no matter what kinky things he had planned for me tonight, he’d look after me and keep me safe. I turned my head to reciprocate the sentiment, but I didn’t need to say anything. He held my gaze in that sexy, dominant way he has and I knew he’d seen the reply in my eyes. It was one of those special and romantic moments, one I’ll remember for a very long time.

As the boat chugged towards the east of the city, Scott and I decided to do a bit of exploring. We followed the sound of ABBA to a huge room with a large dance floor in the middle. A few people were already dancing, in fact I was tempted to join them. Who can resist the addictive tempo of Dancing Queen? But Scott dragged me across the room and down a corridor, which turned out led to another bar playing more subdued music.

“Come on,” said Scott with an eager grin on his face, “lets go down and check out the dungeon.” Yes!

The dungeon was huge. I mean massive. It covered the entire width of the boat and probably nearly the whole length. White metal support columns separated several seating areas, but apart from that the space was uninterrupted. It was a seriously impressive dungeon, especially since it was only temporary. Two St. Andrew’s crosses had pride of place at each end of the room, rather like goal posts on a football pitch. Scattered between them were several spanking benches all different in size and style. A table had been set up near the bottom of the stairs where a large selection of toys was available for the guests to use. Everything from floggers, paddles, canes, whips to restraints, rope, clamps and some things I’d rather not think about.

“Hmm, I’m going to have fun with you down here tonight,” growled Scott under his breath.

My legs actually weakened in response to his words and the first delicious wave of submissive lust settled warmly between my legs. This was going to be a good night.

We went back upstairs after that and rejoined Mike and his friends. Dinner turned out to be a barbecue out on the deck and was lovely. As I tucked into a chicken wing we sailed past Big Ben and it struck me how lucky I was to be partying on this river with these kinky and lovely people

After dinner we went back inside and joined the crowd on the dance floor. The music was mostly from the seventies and eighties which is my favourite era. It created a happy, vibrant atmosphere and seemed to be a hit with everyone. Every time a new song blasted through the speakers a cheer rang out from the crowd and the dance floor remained packed.

As the opening notes to Soft Cell’s Tainted Love started though, Scott took me firmly by the arm and led me away from the dance floor. I started to protest, I was having way too much fun to go anywhere else now, but he was having none of it. Stopping suddenly, he turned to me and pulled the ring on my collar so my nose was almost touching his.

“It’s playtime,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Suddenly, I was nervous. There were a lot of people we didn’t know there and many of them were serious players. It was a world away from our small and local kink club. My heart hammered against my chest as he took my hand and led me firmly down the stairs to the dungeon. Oh God, what was he going to do to me?

The room looked very different now that it was full of people in varying stages of play. The two crosses were occupied and about half of the spanking benches. Large groups of people were lounging around in the seating areas watching the scenes going on around them. There was no music, all you could hear over the quiet murmur of voices was the distinctive sound of impact play. A woman on the bench closest to us moaned as her Domme expertly swatted the back of her thighs with a thin cane. A million butterflies fluttered inside my stomach at the sight and they weren’t all from apprehension.

Scott took me over to a seating area where he then sat down. Crossing his legs he stared up at me standing awkwardly in front of him. He was giving me ‘that’ look, the one that said ‘I’m your Master and you will obey’. The look that made me weak at the knees and wet between my legs. Still, I wasn’t prepared for his next words.

“Remove your skirt.”

“What?” I gasped. Surely he didn’t expect me to strip half naked in this room full of strangers. Did he? I wasn’t wearing any knickers, for God’s sake.

“Keira, I won’t say it again. Remove. Your. Skirt. Now!

Shit, he was serious. I know this sounds weird, but if he’d made me walk in without my skirt from the beginning, it wouldn’t have been as bad as having to remove it in front of all these people. My face burned as I reluctantly undid the zip at the back and slowly slid the skirt down my legs until it pooled at my feet. The slightly cool air brushed against my shaven mound, reminding me that my most private bits were now on display to the world. Shamefully, I couldn’t help the arousal heating between my legs, which was unfortunate because I was sure everyone else could see it too.

Scott stood up and pushed me against one of the metal pillars.

“Arms behind your back,” he ordered.

That meant my arms would be behind the pillar. Sure enough, he quickly produced some rope and bound my wrists behind me so that I was trapped against the pillar. He then sat back down and just stared at me.

He knows I have this love/hate thing for humiliation. On the one hand I genuinely hate being made to do something embarrassing in public, but on the other hand, it turns me on in a way I can’t explain. And Scott knows that. So, he left me there, bound to the fucking pillar whilst he sat back and sipped his drink. A few people came over and chatted to him, completely ignoring me, which only exacerbated my feeling of humiliation.

Finally, finally, he stood up and untied me, although I soon wished he hadn’t. Leaving me standing where I was, he walked across the room to the toy table and picked something up. Oh crap, it was a crop. He returned to me, gestured for me to open my mouth and placed the crop between my teeth.

“When I give the signal,” he growled, “you will crawl to me on your hands and knees keeping that crop in your mouth. Do you understand?”

I nodded, as I filled with dread. It was one thing crawling around for him in the privacy of our home, but here? Shit!

I watched in dismay as he crossed the room and stopped by the spanking bench that was furthest away from where I was. I’d have to pass several large groups of people to get to him. Oh God, why had I been so keen to come down here to play?

I waited obediently and when Scott nodded solemnly at me, I fell to my hands and knees and started crawling through the crowed room. Suddenly I felt every eye in the place on me. I was aware that my arse would be wriggling as I crawled and that my private bits would be on show to those behind me. The only plus side was that he hadn’t made me wear a plug. The play around me continued as I slowly made my way across the room, but now the sound of appreciative whistles joined the existing moans. I instinctively looked down at the floor as I crawled, mainly so I wouldn’t have to acknowledge my audience, but also so they wouldn’t see the drool beginning to pool in my mouth as I kept a firm grip on the crop.

“Look up at me, Keira.” His voice carried clearly across the room.

Bastard! Reluctantly I raised my eyes to his, just as a line of drool ran down my chin. Oh, the shame. My humiliation was complete when I saw Mike join Scott, his arms crossed and clearly enjoying the spectacle in front of him. Finally, I arrived at Scott’s feet and stopped. I was still looking up at him, the drool now running freely down my chin and onto the floor. My face burned from all the eyes on me and yet my pussy felt even hotter than my cheeks.

Scott left me, on my hands and knees by his feet, whilst he chatted amiably to Mike. At first I didn’t take any notice of what they were saying, but then I heard Scott say, “So mate, as it’s your birthday would you like to do the honours?”

What?

“I’d be delighted,” replied Mike, giving me a wink.

“Keira, offer Mike the crop then climb onto the bench.” Scott’s words told me exactly what he’d just promised his friend and my pulse soared in response. Even though I love Scott and acknowledge him completely as my Dom, I love it when he offers me to others for a scene. It’s amazing how different every person is when it comes to spanking and flogging. I’ve never experienced two people with the same touch or technique and always enjoy the new sensations given from a stranger. That said though, no-one gives a spanking like my Scott.

So, feeling slightly breathless, I took the crop from my mouth and placed it across the flat of both my hands. Then I held my arms up to Mike and offered him the crop. Taking it from me, Mike gave me a look that held promises of many pleasures to follow.

Once Mike had the crop, I quickly climbed onto the bench and laid myself along it, face down.

Scott then walked around to the top end and stood directly in front of me. Leaning down he whispered, “Enjoy, my sweet. Mike is a Master at this.”

The first thing I felt was Mike’s hands gently rubbing my back. He worked his fingers up my spine, over my shoulders and down my arms, sending thousands of goose bumps fluttering across my skin in response. Then his hands moved down my back, over my buttocks and along the inside of my thighs. Mmm. I was so ready for this.

First he warmed my skin with light smacks. They didn’t hurt at all, just felt sexy and nice. Every now and then he’d pinch a fleshy bit of my bum making me jump, then he’d resume the light spanking. Gradually though, the smacks got harder. He had a good, strong hand that left a sexy sting in its wake.

Suddenly a hard, brutal smack landed across the back of my thighs and I groaned. It hurt, but it was a nice hurt. The smacks became harder and faster and soon my bottom felt as if it were on fire. Then he stopped, making me groan again, only this time in disappointment. I didn’t want him to stop.

Strong fingers lightly stroked over my heated flesh easing the sting and making my skin tingle with the joy of the sensuous touch. My body melted into the spanking bench as my muscles completely relaxed and my mind drifted peacefully to someplace else.

Then, suddenly, I was dragged out of my serene world when I heard a whistle cut through the air followed promptly by a fiery sting across my arse. Ow!

Bloody hell, I wasn’t expecting that. I tensed in anticipation of another scorching blow, but instead felt rough fingers softly stroking over the stinging line etched in my skin. I relaxed again and allowed myself to enjoy the soothing sensation. Then the gentle massage stopped and it slowly dawned on me that maybe I should prepare myself for another hit. Too late. Before I could brace myself my breath froze in my throat as I tried to absorb the next stinging blow. Damn, I’d forgotten how much a crop could hurt.

The next hit was much lighter and actually felt quite nice. The one after that felt good too so I once again let my guard down and relaxed into my scene. But, of course, that was a big mistake. As soon as my body was lured into a false sense of security, another welt would be scorched across my bottom. And so it continued. I’d lost count of how many times the crop landed across my skin and just concentrated on absorbing the pain.

I’m not one of those people who can easily slip into subspace and, ironically, too much pain can stop me from getting there. I do like the pain though so, although I wasn’t in that special place us subbies can go to, I was still enjoying the scene.

When there was a pause in the blows from the crop I didn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed it was over. Then Mike’s hands gently soothed my burning skin and I sighed with pleasure. I could quite easily have stayed like that for hours, draped across the bench while strong, masculine hands massaged my tender skin.

“I’m going to flog you now, Keira,” said Mike, unexpectedly.

Huh? I thought the scene was finished. A shiver shimmied through my body as I took in his words and suddenly I was seriously worried. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to work out that even a light flogging on my already sore bottom would really hurt.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir.” Why did I just say that? Had I lost my mind?

“Use your safe word if you need to.”

The reminder that I could stop the scene if it got too much helped calm me down a bit and I nodded up at Mike to let him know I understood.

A firm hand settled on my lower back providing a reassuring feeling of stability.

“Relax, Keira.”

I hadn’t realised I’d tensed up and was surprised at how much my body slumped as I tried to let go of the fear. I took a deep breath and forced my muscles to become heavy again.

“Good girl.”

When the first thud of the flogger hit I was so surprised that I actually giggled, probably from relief. He’d hit me across my upper back, far away from my still simmering arse. I love the feel of a heavy flogger. Some floggers are stingy and feel mean and spiteful, perfect for punishments, but others give a deliciously sexy thud and feel a bit like a firm massage.

Mike was clearly very experienced with the flogger because the blows came quickly and evenly across my upper back and shoulders. He expertly delivered just the right force in just the right place and, when the thuds became heavier and harder, the pleasure intensified.

The regular rhythm slowly eased me into a place so beautiful that words can’t possibly describe it. It was as if my mind had left my body and now floated above me in a sea of champagne bubbles. I was drunk on the endorphins, high as a kite, and was consumed with a contended happiness that I never wanted to end.

Gradually though, the flogging slowed and my soul reluctantly re-entered my body. Nooo, don’t stop. I was about to protest, beg even, when a large finger probed into the throbbing wetness between my legs. The finger slid in easily, followed quickly by a second. Hmm. Then they withdrew and spread my hot juices over my clit. I had no idea if it was Scott or Mike and it didn’t matter. The fingers played me like I was a musical instrument, plucking my nerve endings to create the high-pitched notes of my cries.

The build-up had been quick and powerful and now I was at risk of losing control. As trembling eruptions forced their way outwards from my inner core I knew I was only moments away from coming. I needed to ask permission. Damn, I didn’t know if I was capable of coherent speech.

“Please may I come, Sir?” I finally managed to gasp just as my world shattered around me. Waves and waves of rolling pleasure washed over me as my body shook from the tremors. A scream rang out through the room, but I’d no idea if it had come from me or not.

Finally, my body slumped as the orgasm slowed. I was panting so hard my chest hurt but I felt so very good. Nothing in the world could take away the fluffy blanket of euphoria that had wrapped itself around me. Until I heard Scott say,

“I’m glad you enjoyed that, Keira, but you just came before I gave you permission, you naughty hussy. You’ve just earned yourself a punishment. Tomorrow night you’ll pay for that orgasm.” His voice was deadly serious and I knew that I would, indeed, pay for my momentary lapse of obedience.

Well, that punishment is tonight and I’ve no idea what to expect. I’ll tell you all about it in my next entry. If I survive!

8th February 2014

Last night Scott took me to our favorite BDSM club, Kink Unbound and this morning I bear the hallmarks of a damned good night – I can barely sit down.

I hadn’t initially been in the mood to go out and had offered to cook something nice instead, but Scott insisted on it, saying he needed to take me someplace where my screams would go unheard. Okay, he had me at ‘scream’. We do try to play in our little flat, but it’s not huge so we’re a bit restricted. For example, we can’t use the large flogger that requires plenty of swinging room, or the paddle which makes an almighty crack as it hits flesh and screaming is definitely off limits. Our walls are paper thin and our neighbours nosy. The constant worry about the police turning up in response to a concerned resident’s phone call does sort of dampen the mood slightly which is why, every now and again, we go to Kink Unbound for a bit of sexy fun.

The club was already buzzing with activity when we arrived. Some of our friends were gathered at the bar so we spent the first half hour or so chatting with them and catching up on kinky gossip. Then, suddenly, Scott grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back so I was looking straight up into his face.

“Follow me,” he growled.

Well, if I wasn’t feeling submissive before I sure as hell did after that. I actually felt my legs go weak and almost had to reach out to Scott to steady myself. My pulse must have quadrupled because suddenly my heart felt as if it was going to explode as it acknowledged that it was playtime. Yes!

Scott took my hand and led me down to the dungeon, which was packed. The cage had two naked and bound male subs imprisoned, all the spanking benches were full and even the spiders web was occupied. The only free piece of equipment was the St. Andrew’s cross which just happened to be where Scott was leading me to. I hadn’t noticed that our friends had followed us down until we stopped by the cross. Okay, so we were going to have an audience. I was cool with that.

“Strip,” ordered Scott. He took a step back so he could watch me and folded his arms, waiting expectantly for me to obey immediately. Which, of course, I did.

As soon as I was naked, Scott manoeuvred me so I was facing the cross. He deftly attached my wrist and ankle cuffs to hooks at each corner of the tall contraption rendering me helpless and shivering with anticipation. I love being on the cross, except for when my arms go numb after being raised for so long but, hey, that’s a small price to pay.

Scott then blindfolded me and reminded me that I no longer had permission to talk or to come unless he said otherwise. That only heightened my excitement and I just about managed to acknowledge that I understood.

Without my sight, I became more aware of the sounds around me which added to my feeling of elation. I felt truly at home here, amongst friends and other kinksters who weren’t afraid of exploring their fantasies. The sounds of floggers, the whistle of a cane and the cries of lust-filled agony warmed me even before Scott touched me. I felt like I belonged and it felt wonderful.

Scott started flicking a flogger lightly over my back and bottom, gently warming my skin. It was like a massage, softly kneading away the tension in my muscles and I smiled inwardly as my body welcomed the delicious sensations.

I must have relaxed so much that I momentarily forgot where I was because, suddenly, a fiery strike seared across my arse, making me cry out in shock. Oh yes, here we go.

Scott slowly increased the force of the blows, moving from my shoulders down my back, then across my bottom and down to my thighs. It hurt most on my thighs and I couldn’t help the scream that escaped after a particularly hard strike just above the back of my knees. Ow, ow ow!

Just as my legs started shaking and my head grew fuzzy, the flogging changed. One minute I was hit forcefully with a heavy leather flogger followed immediately by a gentler brush with a soft suede one. The delivery of the strokes clearly told me someone else had joined in. Then, when a stinging smack scorched my arse, it dawned on me that a third person was using a paddle. Wow!

I can’t begin to explain the intense pleasure that took over then. I was being flogged and paddled by at least three people, all using different strokes with different force. I had no idea which was going to hit me, where and I had no choice but to let go completely and flow with the pain. And that’s exactly what I did.

The air around me became laced with a hypnotic sedative that took over my body as I breathed more deeply. My blood tingled as it soared through my veins, leaving me gasping for more of the magic air. The fluffy cloud in my head was infused with sparkling glitter giving me a powerful sense of well-being which wrapped itself around my trembling body.

Then, just as I thought it couldn’t get any better, a finger brushed against my inner thigh and moved up until it reached my most private parts, which were spread open for all to see. The finger slid easily into my simmering pussy and I groaned. More. I need more. Through the haze floating in my head, I realised that the flogging and paddling had stopped, but it didn’t matter. Now the only thing I needed was release.

When the finger slid back out and spread my juices over my clit I thought I was going to die, until I heard Scott whisper in my ear.

“Come now, Keira baby.”

That was it. My world exploded as I shattered with the most powerful orgasm I’d had in a very long time. Wave after wave of pleasure claimed my helpless body until all that was left of me was a quivering heap of bones.

Scott quickly released me and carried me to a small room where I was able to recover. As I opened my eyes, I found myself looking into dark pools of smouldering fire. Scott had clearly enjoyed our scene as much as I had.

“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered, my voice slightly hoarse.

As he continued to hold me, I felt an overwhelming rush of love for my wonderful man. Strict Dom, loving boyfriend and lifetime soulmate. How did I ever get so lucky?

15th January 2014

This is my first journal entry this year. Christmas seems like a long time ago now, what with the decorations all gone and the last of the expensive wine drunk. Being back at work is a drag, everyone is as miserable as I am. To add insult to injury, it’s freezing outside, dark by mid-afternoon and payday is still a long way off. I hate January.

Last week was particularly difficult. My gloomy mood wasn’t helped by the fact that Scott was away on a business trip for a couple of days. I missed him terribly, as I always do, but this time it was worse than usual. I’d been grumpy at work and I knew Scott could sense my bad mood when we spoke on the phone, even though I tried to be jovial. That made me feel even worse.

But yesterday I woke feeling a lot more positive, mainly because Scott was coming home in the evening. Also, it was Friday, we had the weekend to ourselves and I was so looking forward to it. I needed to see him, to have him hold me, but more than anything, I needed him to dominate me.

I had an overpowering urge to kneel at his feet. I needed him to grab me by the hair, pull my head back and demand my compliance. I’ve become totally addicted to that lovely gooey feeling I get when he dominates me. That was part of my problem last week, I was in dire need of a fix. And boy did I get it last night.

I really wasn’t expecting anything kinky to happen yesterday. After all, Scott wasn’t due home until about ten o’clock and I knew he’d be exhausted. My hopes had been pinned on today. He caught me completely by surprise, which I guess I should be getting used to by now.

About half an hour before I was expecting him home, he texted me. I was watching some dreary reality programme on TV whilst polishing off the tin of Quality Street left over from Christmas.

You threw away my biscuits, it said.

What? My head spun as I tried to decipher the meaning of the text.

Just before he went away I’d decided to have a good clear out in the kitchen. There were still leftovers from Christmas cluttering up the cupboards and it was on the verge of growing fur. I came across a half eaten packet of chocolate biscuits and assumed they must have been stale so I threw them out. It turned out they were Scott’s and he was furious that I’d thrown them out. For God’s sake, they were only biscuits. I said I was sorry and thought that was the end of it until I got that text.

Sorry, I texted back. What else could I say?

You need to be taught a lesson. That got my attention.

Giggling, I texted back. What did you have in mind, Sir?

Get the cane out, lay it on the bed and wait for me on your knees. Wow, I wasn’t expecting that.

Yes, Sir, I replied with a rush of excitement waking up my dormant libido.

Suddenly, my dreary evening had taken on a whole new turn. I jumped off the sofa, knocking the tin of chocolates on the floor, but I didn’t care – I’d already eaten the best ones.

After a super quick shower, I sprayed myself with his favourite perfume, fastened my collar around my neck before digging out the cane as he’d ordered. Once I was happy everything was in order, I knelt on the floor by the bed and waited in excited anticipation for my beloved Master. I know we don’t have a twenty-four-seven D/s relationship, but I still think of him as my Master because, as far as I’m concerned, that’s exactly what he is.

Shortly after, I heard the key in the lock and my stomach did a little flip. I was ready, as I knew he’d be expecting, naked and kneeling on floor of our bedroom. I trembled slightly as I heard his footsteps cross the hallway.

He slowly opened the door to our bedroom and paused. My gaze was on the floor so I couldn’t see his expression but I knew he’d have a deliciously stern frown on his face. One that screamed I’m in Dom mode now so you’d better watch out.

“Good girl,” he said, softly.

He walked towards me and rested his hand on the top of my head. That was the point every negative thought and emotion drained out of me, leaving me with a feeling of pure serenity.

“I’m going to the bathroom to freshen up. Remain where you are.”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered in reply.

I waited silently while I heard him take a quick shower. My heart hammered furiously as I tried to anticipate what he was going to do to me. Before long he returned and my world turned in on itself. The only thing that mattered was him and me. And the cane he’d just picked up.

“Lay yourself on the bed, face down keeping your feet on the floor,” he demanded.

“Yes, Sir,” I managed to reply and scrambled to my feet. I bent over and laid my upper body on the bed while my feet remained on the floor.

“Stretch your arms above your head and keep still,” he ordered.

I did as I was told and was rewarded with his hand stroking my buttocks. Oh yes, that felt so good. Although I knew what was coming next, I still jumped when he raised his hand and brought it back down with a loud slap. I always enjoy that first initial sting from the first few strokes of a spanking and I savoured the burn as it spread over my cheeks.

Scott warmed the skin on my arse until I could imagine it was glowing and I sighed contentedly into the bedding as the pent-up frustration started ebbing out of my body, leaving it feeling heavy and floppy. I’d completely forgotten about the cane until his voice brought me back to my senses.

“How many strokes do you think you deserve?” he growled. He ran the tip of the rattan rod down my back, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

“Er, five, Sir?” I knew I wouldn’t get away with that, but it seemed like a good starting point.

“We’ll make it ten. Count them.”

“Yes, Sir.” Fuck! I have a real love/hate relationship with the cane. Sometimes I can cope with quite a hard punishment, but other times I scream in agony at the lightest stroke. The only time I’ve ever used my safe word was during a caning.

The first stroke was quite light and I jumped more from the anticipation than the pain itself. Actually, it wasn’t that bad at all.

“One, thank you, Sir,” I said calmly. Yeah, I could do this.

The next two were also quite light, but the fourth was harder. I heard the swoosh of the cane before I felt the thin line of fire scorch my skin. I groaned and pressed my body into the bed.

“Four, thank you, Sir.”

He raised the cane again and I braced myself for number five as the cane hissed through the air. I tensed at the moment the impact was due only to find he hadn’t hit me at all. He was teasing me, the bastard. Before I even had a chance to curse him though, he landed number five across both buttocks with a force that took my breath away. My scream sounded breathless and pitiful.

“Count, Keira, or we start again,” growled Scott.

“Five, thank you, Sir.” Were we really only halfway through? Had I really been desperate for this? I must have been bloody mad.

Number six landed on the back of my right thigh and I twisted my body in agony as I tried to absorb the pain.

“Keep still or you’ll get an additional five,” ordered Scott.

I’d only just thanked him for number six when the seventh stroke scorched my left thigh. Oh God, it hurt so much. Tears spilled from my eyes when I realised I had another three to endure and I briefly considered using my safe word. But, that was the crazy thing, I didn’t want him to stop so I thanked him and braced myself for the next one.

“Climb up onto on the bed, get on your knees and put your head on the duvet,” he said, gruffly. “Present your arse to me.”

I obeyed without question. My whole body shook as I knelt on the bed and bent forwards. With my arse now sticking nicely up in the air, he’d have a much better target.

Number eight was the hardest yet and I threw my body down into the bed as I screamed. Ow, ow, ow!

“Get back up and stay still,” hissed Scott.

I whimpered as I dragged myself back into position, only just remembering to count and thank him before he needed to prompt me.

Number nine hit between that tender spot where the top of the legs joins the buttocks. That was the point where the pain started to feel different. I knew the pain was excruciating, but somehow my body started processing it differently. It had changed from being unbearable to becoming pleasurable. Finally!

“Nine, thank you, Sir,” I managed to mumble through the hazy fog in my head.

“Let’s make number ten a memorable one, shall we?” There was a sadistic twist in Scott’s voice and I knew this would be the one that would take me over the edge.

When it came, the muscles in my throat seized up, silencing the scream trying to escape from deep inside me. Every fibre in my body felt the pain, so intense was the agony consuming me.

“You threw away my biscuits, you naughty girl,” said Scott. The dark, heavy tone of his voice had been replaced with a hint of mischief.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” I gasped through my tears. “I’m sorry.”

“So you should be.”

I was still in the same position on the bed, arse in the air and my face buried in the bedding. I had’t realised how tightly I’d been clutching the duvet until Scott gently unravelled my fingers. Then he strode to the end of the bed again and softly ran his hand over my burning bottom.

“You’ve got a couple of nice welts,” he said softly. “They should still be there in the morning.”

“Hmm.” I seemed incapable of speech. I felt so ridiculously happy at that moment although there was just one more thing that would make everything perfect.

Scott knew that too because, suddenly, something big and hard teased the entrance to my throbbing pussy. Oh, yes!

“Tell me what you want, Keira,” he growled, his voice now heavy with lust.

“Fuck me, Sir,” I begged. “Please fuck me. Hard.”

“I think I can manage that,” he replied with a smile in his voice.

Well, he did fuck me hard and when he came, he took me with him in a climax that shook me to the very core of my soul.

Needless to say, as I lay in Scott’s arms afterwards, I was a very happy girl. My Master was back and my bottom was sore. Suddenly January didn’t seem so bad anymore.

Double Domination – A free Short BDSM Story from Katy Swann

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Comments (4)

  1. You are a very lucky woman. I love reading your blog.

  2. Thanks Brenda. I’ll try to get the next one up next month. x

  3. great stories love them.

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