Bruises

I play hard.

I Top pain loving and sensation loving bottoms who will play hours with me and I love every minute of it.

I bottom to some very sadistic Tops who wield pain like a mighty sword and carve my flesh into beautiful murals that are reflective of the intensity I like to play.

A photograph of the bruises from play that is 48 hours in the past is able to illustrate my masochistic nature.

So an explanation of the photo is somewhat important I think. I wouldn't want to leave to much to imagination! HAH!

The photo was taken by my Wulfie (thank you darling, you are always so accommodating!) I would like to point out that not all the bruises are yet visible as they are so deep they haven't all surfaced yet.

So to point out first the bruise on the top of my right buttock (along my hip etc) this bruise is from a flogger beating against my ass repeatedly. There is another bruise that is slowly forming on the other side in approximately the same spot.

The person who was flogging me for those bruises, tends to strike in an overhand motion thus striking the top of my butt and across my hip. The night of the scene my right side swelled quite large and was a shadowed purple, the bruise did not start surfacing until this morning.

The bruise that is directly in the centre of my left butt cheek is from my rubber flogger. I had just purchased it and was showing it off. There was a group of about four people sitting conversing while I showed it off. One of them was a very large black man. He handled the flogger lovingly and told me how nice it was.

Me being the girl I am asked him if he would do the honors as I had not yet had the delight of feeling it strike me.

He was happy to oblige.

I lined up at the rack again and he started gently striking the pre-reddened curve of my ass. This was my third scene of the night now and I was keyed up so very high I thought I might just touch the ceiling!

He asked how it felt and I moaned rubbed hips against the rack and saying it felt really good.

Then I called him on.

I have a good habit of asking for what I want and when I told him to hit me about four times harder with it he was more that willing to test it. His laughter was music to my ears.

He lined up and asked if I was ready. "YES"

The strike was hard and I rocked into the rack moaning and screaming at the same time. Delicious pain obliterating the world around me in a bright red blur.

He struck me again, again, and again. I was babbling a bit and whimpering. Then he really let loose.

I ran away from him and the rack and he looked amused as I danced around the room and wiggled and shook my body all over. The intensity was so high I thought I might die in pure painful bliss.

I came back to the rack and he joked that he could see why they tied me down.

I laughed back and told him, I might run away for a second to absorb the pain but I ALWAYS come back for more.

His laughter was low as he asked if I would like some more. I told him yes one more. Gasping as I braced myself.

He swatted at me lightly and I peeled laughter merrily. Oh I adore people who PLAY! We bantered back and forth joking about how he gave me one more.

I stomped my feet in mock frustration and called out loudly so the entire party could hear me. "Oh PLEASE PLEASE ONE MORE!"

He gave me one last stroke and I gasped and crouched low holding myself tight in the reverberations of the last strike and the pain it blessed me with.

Oh right I was explaining bruises (oops I lost myself there for a moment).

The remainder of the smaller bruises are from various impact implements ranging from fists, hands, paddles, canes, and straps.

Needless to say the evening was eventful... as usual!