This gorgeous real life story about play in a BDSM club is by Victoria Blisse, and first appeared on her website. It is read here by Sherryl Blu. Features sadism, BDSM, pain and blood.
It was Kev’s birthday party at Miss Ts. I was wearing my new polka dot dress with pockets and telling everyone it had pockets because that is a given. I was doing my hosting duties and when I wasn’t I was sitting between Kronopticon and Palantilin. I tell you, there’s something quite decadent about flopping down on a sofa between two hot guys, both happy for you to snuggle close and touch them. The two meanies hadn’t met before, but they seemed to bond quite happily over their mutual desire to hurt me.
I was glad to be of service.
It was my hubby’s party, so of course I made sure he got his birthday scene in before I let the meanies at me. He wanted to be written on. In his mind it was a sweet, gentle and sensual act that would help him feel good about his body.
It’s almost like he forgot who our friends are. They took great delight in applying stencils and ripping them off, pressing pens hard into flesh, blowing on paint to dry it (that happens to be near nipples) and enthusiastically glittering aforementioned nipples.
There was more pain than he predicted but the pleasure was definitely there too. I haven’t seen my hubby so happy in a long time. I loved orchestrating the decoration of his wonderful blank canvas. There was a lot of love in the room along with the delighted and slightly sadistic giggles.
Once Kev’s scene was finished I got pulled in to a conversation with another meanie who was proudly showing off a beautiful venator musashi and his kendo canes. Yes, people. Sensei’s back.
For new followers, Sensei is the man who led me onto the BDSM scene way back when (about 4 years ago now) and he owns a lot of my firsts. It was wonderful to have him around again, it felt good, it felt right.
And when he said he needed to christen the new venator, I responded with suggestive eyebrow raising and eyelash flutters and so he joined myself, Palantilin and Kronopticon in the dungeon.
The 3 meanies busied themselves with their kits. I got naked and lay over my favourite spanking bench. I felt a little like a poor bunny being circled by growling wolves… I can’t say I disliked the feeling, at all.
There is a special kind of theatre in a group scene, especially when there are other people watching on. It appeals greatly to the exhibitionist in me. It’s a very different dynamic to that of playing with another person one on one. Both are wonderfully intense but with a multiple scene I am very aware of my reactions and I am more inclined to grip onto control. I feel empowered and revel in being centre of attention.
It brings a self confidence i rarely have in the rest of my life. I forget the worries about being too much or not enough. I forget to be apologetic for the space I take up, I forget the fears that keep me quiet and in the background. I just revel in the scene.
The advantage of being hit by 3 meanies is that things ramp up pretty quick. It took Palantilin a matter of moments to find that rose crop he likes and to start to use it on areas of my body that make me yelp. He went for several different cane and crop type implements and left his mark on my back and my buttocks.
Kronopticon used his hands to warm me up before getting in with all kinds of evil including a handmade chain flogger that I must say I grew very fond of. Although not on the clit. I had to tell him to stop aiming things at my poor cunt. Naughty boy.
I screamed, I yelped. I giggled. I squeaked. I called people names. I gasped and panted and grunted disgruntledly.
And then I saw Sensei in the mirror with a kendo cane in his hand.
“Oh fuck.” I exclaimed.
Then it hit me. Well, Sensei hit me with the Kendo and all the memories of play from years past blasted into my mind as I embraced a pain that I had loved so much but hadn’t felt for a very, very long time.
A couple more strikes followed.
“Oh God, I missed you fuckers!” I cried. And I really, really had.
I was soon in a space where I couldn’t think particularly straight. As the 3 sadists took their turns in hurting my flesh and confusing my brain. Palantilin went for the soles of my feet with a cane and I kept moving them out of the way. So Kronopticon strapped my feet to the bench.
I had a moment of panic, where safewords danced on my lips, but then I let the comfort of the people around me overtake that. I knew I would be released the moment I asked for it. And I kinda wanted to see how much I could endure being tied down.
It was a fair bit. On my feet and on my calves. Yes, Palantilin is an evil fucker, but I do like him. I did tell him to stop hitting that particular area after a while though and he gracefully did.
I make weird noises as I’m beaten. At one point I was repetitively ‘ah’ ing so Kronopticon filled in with ‘Staying alive, Staying alive!” and I laughed uncontrollably.
But when Sensei picked up the venator musashi and slashed through the air to roundly strike the back of my thighs the sound I made was something far more visceral. Three strikes. All like a knife through butter, the impact exploding in my brain and my cunt as much as across my thighs. It was the most perfect brutality. I’m glad he stopped at three because the pain mounted and expanded and I was howling with pain for ages afterwards but I instantly craved more.
Now, somehow I managed to suggest they flip me over and hit my other side (my butt was bloody again) which was a good idea. Until I faced the reality of three mean men circling me and looking at my fleshy bits with sadistic desire in their eyes.
So, you know I said Palantilin is an evil fucker? Well he approached me with my favourite studded paddle in hand. So he’s also thoughtful and lovely. He hit my thighs hard with the paddle, bringing up bubbled red marks immediately.
Kronopticon followed suit, hitting my poor thighs with evil stingy things and the chain which I love to hate.
I remember little moments within the beating.
Palantilin with the God forsaken bastard stick on my boobs, counting down to impact. Kronopticon pulling out cuffs and putting my arms behind my back for my own good and presenting my breasts more effectively.
Sensei standing beside me and that Kendo cane hitting down on my thigh.
“You Bastard!” I screamed.
Followed by
“I love you!”
I didn’t want him to feel bad. I do love his mean arse… and the rest of him.
It was a little later I called stop and Kronopticon released me from the cuffs, Palantilin stroked my hair and let me lean on his shoulder and Sensei watched over to make sure I was okay.
I was ecstatic. I hugged the meanies and hobbled, still fully naked into the social room.
Palantilin sat one side of me, Kronopticon the other. And of course the cold can in his hands ended up pressed into bruises and welts, making me yelp.
Palantilin ran his fingers over my welted, bruised high, time and time again, making me whimper and moan in his ear. He snuggled under my blanket with me and I was very pleased when he moved my hand up to his crotch, he was rock hard. I left my hand there a while. Stroking and squeezing.
A little revenge for the bruise poking.
At the end of the evening Cute as Sin helped with bruise identification, it is their specialty, by poking my thigh bruises. I needed to get past them so, I decided to just leg it. I ran straight into their outreached hand. Oh, it hurt. Oh, they laughed, all the meanies did in fact.
It wasn’t my fault. My brain was sexy mush from all the beatings.
So 3 sadists walked into a dungeon…what’s the punchline?
Me.
If you enjoyed this real life story about play in a BDSM club, you should check out more amazing sexy tales from Victoria Blisse, and find more of reader Sherryl Blu here. You can also enjoy more sexy stories read aloud in the audio porn section.