Trusting obedience. Agonizing pain. New sensations. Touching that goes to very heart of my longings.
I have been exploring the sub side of my interest in corporal punishment (CP) for about eight years. Once or twice a year I have had a beating at the hands of some of the most formidable ladies in the field. These have primarily involved the cane, the great fear of my schooldays, always hard and sometimes to a very large number of strokes.
Claire Black has introduced me to something different, taking the familiar CP but adding a new magic to it.
When I arrived, we discussed the desires and limits that we had already set out in email correspondence. I was left with complete confidence in Claire’s ability and professionalism. There was no need for a safeword.
Claire was dressed simply, in black jeans and Dr Martens boots. We agreed that we would not role-play. I had, however, expected Sir to raise their voice in authority. It simply wasn’t necessary. I was quietly told what to do, and I obeyed.
We started with me in the corner, with my hands on my head, like a naughty boy. This was a familiar position for me, having spent several hours there at an event recently. In the background, Claire was preparing instruments of pleasure and pain for later in the session; I could hear the electrical buzz, but I dared not look round. Simple as it was, that five minutes was entrancing, preparing me for the mysteries that Sir Claire had lined up for me.
The punishment proper began, as hard CP sessions should, with a cold caning. The exquisite pain of a harsh dragon cane is best enjoyed and endured on fresh bare buttock skin that has not been desecrated by lesser implements. The caning was hard: not as hard as I have experienced previously but quite sufficient to produce gasps and, at times, my tell-tale sign of rising up on tiptoes as the pain gets difficult to bear.
We were able to talk amid the caning, with Claire bending over next to my head to discuss the merits of each cane. We agreed that a reformatory dragon cane was the best from both ends of the experience. It produced an intense burning pain, as well as some thud.
The talking in no way broke the spell of the caning; it enhanced the intimacy between us. Not only that, but Claire was frequently touching me, rubbing my back, exploring the weals on my bottom, and at one point sitting on my back. The last of these is certainly a first for me in a CP session.
That part of the session concluded with me having to count the final strokes of the cane. I was proud to remember the correct form of address for Sir.
We moved to a period of non-CP. In correspondence I had raised a number of areas of Claire’s expertise that I was interested to explore. Before the session we had agreed that, while with CP Claire could do whatever they wanted to me, in these other areas we would negotiate as we went along. As it turned out, they were able to read my responses very well without us having to talk very much.
I was wired to an electrostimulation device. Just as my efforts with similar devices at home had failed, the initial response was nothing but a mild tingle. But Claire was not to be defeated, and after several moves of the electrodes they found a position that had me at their mercy. The sensation was not actually painful, but it was very intense and made me jump. By the time a prolonged and intense tawsing came to an end, I had almost forgotten about the electrical device. But Claire and the little box in their hand were quick to remind me of the power they had over me.
I was introduced to entirely new sensations. My nipples were gently caned. Single and and multiple pinwheels were run all over my body. Those produced sensations that can be both delightful and excruciating, depending on where they go, how quickly and how firmly. I find I can’t remember all of the things that happened while I was lying blindfolded on that bed; I take that as a good sign of how wrapped up in it I was.
Claire also gave me my first back punishment, with an extra-heavy tawse. In forty years of thinking about corporal punishment, that is one combination of implement and target that I had never thought about. It hurt. It produced more gasps of pain than is usual from this often stoical punishee. Perhaps there could have been more of that pain.
Throughout the session pain was paired with exquisite sensual touching, far more than in any pure-CP session I have enjoyed. That transforms everything. No matter how bad the pain is, one feels loved and safe. It provides a connection between tormentor and tormentee: between Claire and me. It acknowledges the complex interaction between our kink and our sexuality.
We ended with me lying prostrate on the floor with Claire lying on top of me, a position that instantly took me back to a very special relationship more than 20 years ago. It wasn’t something I had asked them to do, but Claire had found a weak spot that left me lying helpless and nearly in tears. A few minutes later, I was again lying, this time with lips glued to the toes of the good doctor’s finest 21-hole boots, in Claire’s control, powerless to move unless instructed to do so.
So, I learnt that, although I can take very hard CP, not every session has to be at 100% to be enjoyable. And I learnt the power of sensual touch, hand in hand with pain. I left with stripes on my bum and my back that will keep me warm for a few nights; with a deep, relaxed, satisfied sensation; and with a broad subspace grin on my face.
If Sir Claire allows it, I shall be back for more, probably much sooner than I have returned for CP sessions in the past.
Thank you, Sir.