Friday, November 7, 2014

Print me Red

He read my post, you know, the one about hair pulling. As soon as we were in that room he was gently gathering up my hair into a pony tail and pulling and pushing me into positions. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me towards himself and whispered straight into my ear with a sly grin "yeah I read your post". He fucked me hard, from behind, while I was on my knees, hair in hand and I begged him to spank me too. "I'm not sure I can manage that" he said incredulously. "Sure you can." I answered while taking his hand in mine and showing him my ass.  There was a very brief pause in the sex, he was preparing. I couldn't see what he was doing, my head was arched back against my neck and I felt his hand make contact with my ass cheek. I buckled forward without quite knowing why. It burned like I'd been stung by a swarm of bees but we didn't stop. It was an instant of pain and then the pleasure of him fucking me again.

We finished. I think this was the time he gave me a pearl necklace (a term I learned from him) but there were too many times to remember which one was which.

When I got up I checked my ass in the mirror and the whole right cheek was red. Very red. We both marveled at how red it was and he quietly said that he'd hit me too hard, he was worried you see.
After my shower I came back into the room and I showed him my ass again. Over a half hour later it was still red, this time with his whole hand visible in red.

An hour later, the hand print was raised like a whip mark. I could feel the bump of every finger when I ran my hand over my ass. I was proud, I loved it, it was like a battle scar, one that I wouldn't give up if I'd had any choice. It lasted quite a few hours at least, possibly half the day. By the time late afternoon rolled round we headed down to the pool and the mark was gone. I admit I was a little disappointed it was gone. I was hoping it would leave a longer lasting mark, a bruise, a nice hand shaped bruise maybe.

I was reading N.Likes' last post and ended up writing this comment. I guess I drew from experience but it just makes sense.
I’m not entirely sure a woman who wants rough sex wants angry rough sex. You being angry isn’t the means to the goal. I think it’s lust. I want the spanking, the slapping around, the gagging, the hair pulling, the throat grasping… but I don’t want it in anger, I want it in lust. You should be so hard for me you push and pull me into positions without my permission, you take me and fuck me however you want. I want to be wanted so bad I’m used almost thoughtlessly, but after I should not be discarded, that would hurt more than the bruises and the red marks on my skin.


Advizor54 said...

There is a big emotional need expressed in your last few words.

"I want to be wanted so bad I'm used almost thoughtlessley(perhaps used selfishly), but after I should not be discarded..."

Being used by one we love makes us feel wanted, desired, needed, but when that gift is discarded, discounted, or taken for granted, then it turns to pain and resentment. The marks on your ass were reminders of pleasure and intimacy, not the bruises of abuse, so you wanted them to linger.

It is not the lust that stays with us, but the love we feel aftewards, in intimacy that transmutes pain into pleasant memories.

Cande said...

Exactly Advizor. I'm not sure it's intimacy that transmutes the pain, or whether it's the pain that constitutes the intimacy and proof of intimacy but yes, I do believe you're right.