Mistress Mal Martine
Healing BDSM
He leaned forward and put his hands against the wall, stabilizing himself by spreading his legs apart.
Naked and completely trusting, he waited. Nothing existed outside of us. We were an equal exchange of energy creating a loop. I stroked his back with my nails. He shivered and leaned his head back to kiss me on the cheek. I stepped back and he took some deep breaths.
Sometimes I like to whip the same spots; watch the straight pink lines widen and swell. The center gets darker with each stroke.
I got in my groove, altered by the sound of the whip. The only other sound was him sucking in his breath through his teeth. Eventually he opened his mouth and moaned in orgasmic agony.
I paused to observe the welts, now maroon. "How are you?" I asked, even though I knew. He turned back to look at me, an enormous grin on his face. "So so good" he beamed. He's waiting for the bleeding to start. That's when it gets great.
I started again, more aggressive this time, covering more skin with marks. "IT'S SO PAINFUL!!!", he half screamed, half laughed. The dots of red appeared. They joined and ran down his back. He started sweating and then shivered.
"YES YES YES"
Later, in the evening, he rubbed my hands so gently and with such intent. He thanked me for giving him the pain, and I thanked him for giving himself to
me for a little while. He asked if I had enjoyed myself. "How do you ask that question to a sadist?" I asked, truly bewildered. "You're a healer," he said, "these are healing hands". He kissed my palms.
"I felt your love, and your nurturing energy. You are just the sweetest".