Ever curious to know what goes through the minds of people I play with I asked Paul, a talented writer I’ve had the pleasure of beating up, to write a session account for me. I was delighted with what he replied with and feel it really captures what happens between us. So if you’re curious how things are from the bottoms perspective, or just want to enjoy some well written kinky erotica with a decent amount of wit, read on!
I hit the floor hard and immediately feel a heavy boot crunch into my side. My assailant is on my back in a second and begins pounding a fist into my shoulders as I Iay there, helplessly grunting in pain.
After a couple of minutes the pounding stops. I’m flipped over and I brace myself for more punishment. Instead I find myself staring into an impossibly sweet face with twinkling eyes and a broad smile.
“I think you’re done”, she says.
I can only agree.
“Cup of tea?”
I’m slightly spaced out. Adrenalin I suppose. Or endorphins. Or is it dopamine? Whatever, I just nod and she gets off me. Immediately I miss the feeling of her atop me as she disappears into the kitchen.
I lie there revelling in my pain and musing on how the hour seemed to pass so slowly while I was being pummelled but now feels like it was over so quickly. I prod bits of myself to see where I hurt the most and I can tell I’m going to be black and blue in a couple of days.
I’m still sitting in the middle off the floor when she returns. “Feel free to get dressed or stay naked”, she says.
I’ve almost forgotten I’m naked. It felt completely natural in the heat of play but now I feel a little self-conscious being starkers while she is fully clothed. I put my clothes on and sit beside her. “So how was it for you?” she asks.
Three days earlier I was scouring the internet in search of a Dominatrix, Domme, Mistress…whatever you want to call it. Most seemed to be of the whips and latex variety and, while I appreciate a woman in latex as much as the next man, I prefer something a bit more real, more natural. I also have a particular fetish that rarely appears on the lists of services…namely to have the living shit kicked out of me. More commonly known as a beatdown.
When I happen upon Claire’s website I immediately sense that I’ve found the right person. There are whips, but latex is replaced with black jeans, t-shirt and heavy lace up boots. She has managed the nice trick of being simultaneously incredibly pretty and scary as fuck. Someone you’d definitely like to meet in a dark alley but might well live to regret it.
In place of the “Come and kneel before me worm” rhetoric there is an open account of who Claire is, i.e. a pervert who enjoys hurting people and makes a mean cup of tea. I couldn’t wait to meet her.
She prefers initial contact via e-mail which was a boon for a nervous newbie like me. I sent her an e-mail explaining what I wanted and she replied saying she’d take great delight in beating me up. Clearly my kind of woman.
Three days later I’m outside the unassuming looking door steeling myself for a moment before ringing the bell. Mere seconds later the door opened…
My initial reaction was one of relief that she looked just as her photos (one hears stories). Then her broad smile and chirpy greeting helped relieve some of my nerves as I stepped inside.
Claire’s dungeon is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. A heavy duty scaffold frames the room and encloses a large bed under which is a cage that looks like it could hold a gorilla. The steel scaffold is counterpointed by gothic decor, making it part industrial hell and part vampiric boudoir.
Before getting down to business, she chats to me briefly about the session, checking on my limits, health etc. Once she’s satisfied she says, “Take your clothes off”.
I’m quickly naked and my heart pounds like a jackhammer from a combination of nervousness and excited anticipation. I mention this and Claire places a hand gently against my chest to feel.
She smiles. “Ready?”
I nod and she places her hands on my shoulders staring deeply into my eyes. She holds my gaze for long moments, looking into my soul as I start to lose myself in her deep brown eyes.
Suddenly she pushes me hard backwards against the wall, pinning me there with her left hand on my throat as she slaps me hard across the face with her right. And again. And again.
She steps back and looks at me like a cat about to pounce on its prey. Then she lunges forward to deliver a series of blows to my chest. Seizing my throat again, she lines up her fist to hit my stomach. A quick glance into my eyes and then the blow strikes. Then another. And another.
She grabs my arm and thows me to the floor. Her heavy boot crunches into my thigh and more kicks rain down as I squirm around on the floor. Jumping on my back she uses her fists again, mixing in sharp elbow jabs. She pounds the same spot relentlessly working it until it feels like it’s on fire. My screams of pain only seem to excite her and drive her to make me yell out more.
Flipping me over she sits astride my chest. She’s panting with exertion and her eyes seem to glow. The glee on her face is unmistakable. My pain, her pleasure.
A few hard slaps across the face before she begins to work my chest again, looking into my eyes as she does so. She takes special delight in punching me right on my sensitive nipples and seeing my face contort with pain.
She has a knack of knowing just when to stop, just at the point I’m starting to think I can’t take any more. She stands above me, looking down as I lay between her legs gazing up at her. Another sweetly wicked grin plays across her face as she slowly starts to unbuckle her belt. My flicker of excitement is quickly extinguished. She isn’t about to disrobe, she’s just readying a weapon.
She smiles as she snaps the belt a couple of times, the crack reverberating loudly. Then she begins to lash me with it – a sharp, stinging pain in contrast to the blunter impacts of fists and boots. I writhe around the floor in agony until it mercifully stops.
Looping the belt around my neck, Claire drags me to my feet and yanks me around the room. She toys with me, reeling me in for a slap at her whim. Then she unties the belt and delivers a few more lashes before casting it aside and circling me with a wicked grin on her face.
I tense every time she disappears behind me and and relax slightly as she reappears. A few light punches keep me on my toes. Then a kick from behind sends me staggering forward. She turns me around to face her and launches a kick right into my stomach. I double over and she shoves me back against the wall before launching a volley of punches.
I’m starting to crumple when she stops and looks into my eyes, smiling broadly. It’s impossible not to smile back. She wraps her arms around me and nuzzles into my neck. The warmth of her body and sensuousness of her embrace is wonderful. I ache to return the embrace but fight to keep my arms by my side. I have less control over other parts of my body and my penis begins to respond to the closeness. Unable to resist, I start to raise my arms to wrap them around her.
I’m wrenched back to reality by a stinging blow to the face. My erection shrivels as Claire resumes relentlessly pounding at my chest. I’m thrown back to the floor and hit it hard. Immediately I feel a heavy boot crunch into my side….
She’s still waiting for an answer.
I smile. “Incredible. I’m already thinking of things we can do next time.”
She smiles back. I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Written by Paul