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Bottom on Top: Richard and the Caning
Okay, I gotta tell ya, I've been saving this picture forever, because I think it is just awesomely sexy, speaking to possibilities. Possibilities? How can that be, Angela? After all, there are no naked girls or boys; nor is there anything remotely sexual happening. And I say to you: EXACTLY! The sexual landscape is bare, except for a cane on a nondescript couch. That's where it starts, where everything begins.
Can you imagine entering a woman's apartment with her after a first date to see that lying there, so innocently, yet so titillating? Or being in a submissive relationship and finding that as you walk in the door one night? What if you were being puppy trained and you crawled into your Mistress's living room to see this?
Now you get it, don't you? I'm sure you do.
Well it used to be that Richard, our resident Submissive Savant, would have agreed with any of the three submissive perspectives I just described. And I'm sure he still would, really, when you get right down to it. But, my oh my, is he in a mood for experimentation these days, noting in a recent entry that he has separate profiles up at Collar Me … one submissive and one dominant.
In just such a mood he wrote a most erotic piece…
I dreamt of you last night. More honestly I stroked my cock while I thought of you.
There you were with you wrists bound above your head. My canes cut into your buttocks. First the wooden cane, then the acrylic and lastly the metal one. Your flinched, your breath became ragged but you wouldn’t cry, you wouldn’t beg me to stop.
With the metal cane only I moved down to the back of your thighs. Your twitches told me that each stroke hurt. Still there were no tears. Again you wouldn’t beg. I felt like I was eating you. At least eating your pain. Finally I stopped. Sitting on a tall stool I sat near you and let my hands roam across your body. I licked some of your welts hoping to taste what I’d done to your flesh.
I yanked you around. My cane cut into the front of your thighs. You spasmed, you whimpered. Selfishly you never asked for mercy. Tiring I sat before you and planned my triumph.
I thrust my tongue down your throat. I burned with love for your strength as much as I wanted to conquer it.
Your face assumed so many beautiful expressions of anguish when my cane cut into your nipples. But no tears flowed.
Finally I released you. But had you kneel one more time before me. My fingers rifled your hair. I treasured the shudders that still racked your body and your seeming indestructibility.
Finally I raised you up as friend and equal and hugged you tightly to me.
I think I love the last line best of all. Which is probably what I love about Richard best of all. His beautiful humanity.
xo, Angela
A plethora of talent in such abundance. I’m not overstating nor being redundant. It’s all here.
Richard really paints an accurate and erotic BDSM encounter. My wish would be that any “submissive” would find such a Master. Then that we would all live happily ever.
“I thrust my tongue down your throat. I burned with love for your strength as much as I wanted to conquer it.”
Damn good writing. Damn good.
I’m with the gang. Your “Submissive Savant” (like most of the erotic writers your feature here) is very good at what he is doing in this piece. And the humanity you mentioned shows in every line, really. The Master is adoring and cherishing the slave with every stroke. I have a feeling that real power exchanges, good powere exchanges, would be like this. And that both parties would, indeed, be blessed.
Maybe the BDSM crowd has a thing or two to teach we Vanilla people. Now if we’d only just listen.