Spanking, squirting, sadness & school clothes


I won’t tell you about our scene last night, how long it had been since the last one, and how much we had both needed the level of play that I’d struggled to find the words to ask for that morning.

I won’t tell you how nervous I was, whilst on my knees waiting for him to come into our room, and how I could see his intentions laid out on our bed in canes, floggers, restraints and toys.

I won’t tell you how I doubted my body as my spanking started and I winced at how much it hurt, when it wasn’t much at all, and how I struggled to settle into it as it felt like the first spanking I’d ever had, because time had sensitised my body anew.

I won’t tell you he knew this and so switched between pain and pleasure until I forgot which was which as they merged into one, then I craved the pain again as my body remembered they were one and the same once more and I relaxed.

I won’t tell you how much I wriggled and rose up on my toes as I had to count down the strikes from 10, each incremental in force, when I’d already been told to stay down, and that he started again from 10 each time I did and it took six restarts to discipline myself to count and stay put.

I won’t tell you that he caned out the hurt and confusion and insecurity and concern I’d wrangled with all day, not his doing, but he saw it and knew it had to escape, that he expected me to break for him to set it free and so I sobbed it out into my pillow until my arse hurt more than my heart.

I won’t tell you how I begged to cum again and again, plugged and filled and edged and denied, that my blood didn’t bother us as I flooded the black towels he’d put down to catch it, because periods won’t stop us.

I won’t tell you how he kissed away my remaining tears as he reminded me of my worth and that I’m his, as I knelt before him once more, one hand wrapped in my hair holding me upright, as his other gripping himself as he came all over my chest, his wetness and mine sliding down my body.

I won’t tell you how he cleaned me, held me, fetched me juice and soothed my bottom with cream and then we lay curled together, limbs entangled,  and thanked each other as we recovered.

But I will tell you how, when we did, we tiptoed downstairs in the dead of the night and stood naked in our kitchen folding the ridiculous amount of new school uniforms I’d washed, straight out the drier, so I wouldn’t have to wash them all over again today.

Because sometimes, amongst it all, life interrupts and derails and affects and needs attending to. Because, that’s just life.

21 thoughts on “Spanking, squirting, sadness & school clothes

    • kisungura August 5, 2018 / 11:19 am

      I think we both did…plus a neatly folded pile of school jumpers, win win. Thank you sweet xx

      Liked by 1 person

  1. darkanddominant August 5, 2018 / 10:31 am

    Catharsis found in heightened sexual encounters. It really is beautiful – or, as you’ve so eloquently captured, intensely, breath-catchingly (is that a word? Hell I’ll make it up) Erotic. Christ.

    It was as tightly wound and expertly released as magnificently in text as it was no doubt in real life.

    Call me crazy but I would be interested in knowing how wound up you two had become, how the balance of life and D/s works and operates for another in that down time between. But that may be crossing a boundary – or, as I’ve put on my food for thought friday list – infringing on those intimate spaces left reserved for a couple.

    Liked by 1 person

    • kisungura August 5, 2018 / 11:34 am

      Thank you 😊 When he incorporates and encourages some level of catharsis in this way it is always very powerful and indeed breath-catchingly erotic as you say, and although it’s not very often, we do harness it in this way .

      Good question, and without giving too much away, here anyway, we’d become pretty hungry for it. Not so much about sex, although obviously a contributing factor, but more so about re-connecting on the level we do when we scene.

      We’ll play more often than we’ll scene so when it’s been a while we both develop a craving for it. Generally we ebb and flow as many couples do I’m sure. Sometimes more balanced than at others.


  2. Foxy August 5, 2018 / 11:34 am

    Sometimes, when I let frenzy creep in, it can feel like real life gets in the way of our dynamic. Like life is the time between scenes and is an inconvenience. But then I remember that I married him to spend life with him, the mundane and the momentous. Our dynamic enhances and gives meaning to our days; it draws us closer together and gives us an outlet for the baggage that builds up.
    I loved your perspective on this. Because life and D/s intertwine for you – and clothes can wait, but only so long!

    Liked by 1 person

    • kisungura August 5, 2018 / 11:40 am

      This is so true…at the end of all the whippings and canings and mind blowing orgasms, there’s still the laundry to be dealt with! Doing it together naked always helps though 😉

      I remember feeling the way you describe at the beginning of our D/s, but recognising frenzy for what it is helped me I think, even if it didn’t manage to dampen it much! I so love how you describe your dynamic 💓 Thanks for commenting xx

      Liked by 1 person

  3. katkinx August 5, 2018 / 12:32 pm

    Oh I love this, Kis! There are so many times when life gets in the way of your connect with your partner (anyone in a D/s relationship or otherwise) and you need that reconnect. Beautiful❤️xx

    Liked by 1 person

    • kisungura August 5, 2018 / 1:09 pm

      Thank you so much 😊 I totally agree, it’s so easy to let things get to you or get in the way, I guess sometimes that connect looks like a full on kink scene, other times as shared domesticity, or as per us last night, one then the other!

      Liked by 2 people

    • kisungura August 5, 2018 / 2:59 pm

      Thank you Brigit, he’s very good at looking after me, and doing laundry lol☺️


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