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Bring Back The Smut!
- Thread starter S. SaDiablo
- Start date
Sadistic Bastard
No Mercy
Bladev1, It would be my pleasure.
I only drink Nehi's through a silly straw.
-SB
I only drink Nehi's through a silly straw.
-SB
Sadistic Bastard
No Mercy
An Sadistic Story
I'm going to place this one on "spoiler"
It's not a "smut" story, there is no sex in it.
But read it for what is done. I'll be interested in the reactions to it.
Heavy pain, psychological stuff, "cold" sadism. No sex.
I'm going to place this one on "spoiler"
It's not a "smut" story, there is no sex in it.
But read it for what is done. I'll be interested in the reactions to it.
Heavy pain, psychological stuff, "cold" sadism. No sex.
The phone call had sounded urgent, not panicked, but urgent. She was so rarely able to just say what she wanted or needed. She usually relied on me to notice, to take my time and slowly draw her desire out of her, she trusted that I knew her well enough that I would know and pick up on the need…and sometimes I knew her better than she had known herself. Not tonight, however.
“I need…†she had said breathlessly after her confession.
“Come over, right now and as you are, I will be waiting†I had responded. It would take her a few minutes, long enough to rinse myself off in the shower, put on a robe, and light a few candles. My body did these things as my mind turned her statements from the phone call back and forth, seeing what sort of puzzle she had presented me.
She had indeed needed. If she had told me tomorrow, I might have been angry, but not at her. If she had made me guess at what happened, I would have been furious…but just now, I was thoughtful. She had done what she could, made a mistake, and then admitted not only the mistake, but her need. As her Dominant and friend, and the only one who she could probably ask this of…it erased the anger. I thought on the call more deeply as I walked over to the umbrella stand, picking one of the fiberglass canes out of the holder. Still in thought, I pulled out a few restraints, an inflatable gag, and a few more items from the chest at the foot of the bed.
I set the items down, gave the highly flexible cane a few cuts through the hair to reacquaint myself with the weight and swing, and then gave one of the pillows on the bed a “WHACK†to remember the bend. I would have to be careful not to cut her with it…but it would serve tonight’s purpose.
The knock at the door was quiet, I didn’t turn on the porch light, but opened the door without a word. She took two steps in and dropped to her knees, head bowed and her arms automatically behind her. Her coat was open, a cocktail dress under it with a lace and sequined hem, the light caught the sparkle slightly. She said not a word…I suspected all of her words had gone through the phone.
I lifted her chin, bringing her eyes up…the tears were still flowing.
“Are you physically ok? If you are not I can call N, she owes me a favor and she’ll make a house-call…†She shook her head, but then jerked her chin out of my fingers and resumed looking at the floor.
I gave a sigh.
“Stand up,†I told her. I would have to examine her myself. Not that I didn’t trust her, but I didn’t think she could tell me if she was injured. She stood, and I walked behind her, brushing her coat off of her shoulders. It fell to the floor at her feet. I pealed the shoulder straps of her dress off of her shoulders too, unlike the coat it took more urging to slide off of her body. I left the top gathered at her hips. Her back didn’t show any bruising…but when I walked around her front, the story was different. I brushed her long hair away from her breasts, and saw the bruises immediately. One nipple looked like it had been bitten, it was still erect and an angry red. Her other breast had a long, ugly bruise across it.
“Crop?†I asked her as my fingers traced the bruise. She shook her head, frowning and angry and embarrassed. I slid her skirt up…she wasn’t wearing panties.
I ran my hands over her thighs, she automatically parted them. No bruises there…but I felt the stick after-effects of her encounter on her thighs.
“Did he cum inside you?†I asked. Again, she shook her head.
“Fingers only?†I asked again, my voice was in Command mode. She nodded.
The ‘why’ wasn’t important. I took a few more minutes to examine her, making sure nothing else was bruised or broken physically. I stepped back and let her kneel again.
She didn’t need a lecture. Maybe later she’d tell me why she had gone out with him again. It didn’t matter.
I picked up the gag. She was going to make noise, and 3am screaming wasn’t something I wanted the neighbors to question. She opened her mouth without a prompt, I buckled the straps behind her head, under her hair, and then attached the bulb to the valve. A few squeezes, and her mouth was full. I made sure the single tube through the middle of the gag was clear for air…she wouldn’t be able to breathe through her nose very well once the tears started in earnest again.
I knew she would have stood still and silent if I had ordered it, used her training at my Command. But tonight was for her. I would allow her to relax…so the cuffs went on her wrists and ankles next. I lead her over to the side of the bed. I grabbed the round cushion off of the spanking bench and placed it under her belly as she knelt forward. Each ankle was chained, one to the head board and one to the foot. I left her hands cuffed behind her. She was bent over the large round pillow, her knees apart, her skirt up over her ass…vulnerable and unable to do anything. I selected a training collar, and slipped it around her neck. One more chain came from the ring to the other side-rail on the bed…it would keep her from sitting up.
I saw she was wet again. An almost automatic reaction to her position (and maybe to me…). Any other night, I would slide a toy deep inside of her…filling her and stimulating, building a stronger link between the pain and pleasure. But not tonight. She needed…and the need was not for sexual pleasure.
“I am going to begin.†I told her softly as I set the crop across both of her cheeks, letting her feel exactly where I would strike. It was an odd scene.
I paused as I thought on this oddness. She loved being surprised. She loved being frightened a little, humiliated a little, used and fucked and swatted…
None of that was here tonight. She had told me….she needed….so I told exactly what would happen. I gave her the rope and the cuffs to allow her to just relax and feel what she needed. It was not a night for training or for work.
I thought of giving her a safe. I looked over at the super-ball I kept on my night-stand for times when a submissive was unable to say anything. Small enough to keep in her hand, if she dropped it I would have stopped.
Not tonight.
No safety.
No responsibility on her part to stop me.
She needed….
I raised the cane for the first blow. I landed it across both of her cheeks, hard enough to mark. I heard her sigh/grunt through the gag. Holding the cane on her ass, I looked at her face. The tears had started again.
There was a welt across both cheeks, dividing her ass into upper and lower halves. Not hard enough to cut…maybe that would come later. I set the cane down and moved the tall mirror in the corner over so I could monitor her face. She looked up at me through the mirror, the lower part of her face covered and distorted by the gag. But her eyes were crystal clear as she followed the cane up for the next blow. She did not tense. She accepted the blow as it fell, her eyes closing for a moment as I placed the next stripe an inch below the first. And another. And another…the rhythm starting, each blow an extension of the last. I was absorbed by placement and force…each would be exactly where I wanted it, and enough to hurt without damaging permanently. I felt the focus start to pull me away from the other purpose…I paused and looked in the mirror again. I saw her cheeks puffing out and in as she breathed through the pain. Her eyes were on my face through the mirror.
I divided my attention between her ass and her eyes. I ran my fingers over the little raised stripes across her ass, a touch after each addition. I lost count somewhere…it didn’t matter. What mattered were her eyes, that she was still not flinching. Her eyes told me one thing…â€Moreâ€.
I switched tactics. Turning the cane 90 degrees, I laid it gently on one lip of her labia. Her spread knees and ankles held her just slightly open, her inner folds peaked out from the outer. I looked at her. She closed her eyes. I finally understood. Punishment for what she saw as the place that had betrayed her. The place she had wanted to keep for me…
It would be delicate work. I put down the cane and grabbed my leather wrapped crop. The slapper would spread the impact in this sensitive area. I laid it against her skin, she did not move or open her eyes. The blow was sharp…
She moaned through the gag. It was not an erotic sound, but one of a wounded animal. I struck again, the other lip…hard…but pulling just before the shaft impacted, the leather of the slapper carrying the momentum into her cunt. She moaned again.
I did this slowly, hearing her react after every blow, each one far less viscous than the ones I had striped her ass with…but in a far more sensitive area. I took my time, watching her face until she relaxed and was ready for the next one, and only then turning my attention back to her pro-offered cunt for another blow. These I counted.
I stopped at 16.
Her ass was red, her mons red as well, and she was still wet…so very wet that the slapper almost splashed with the last few blows. I ran my hand over the hot skin…all over it….her ass…her mons…her lips…sliding one finger inside as I did but not curling it or pressing against her G spot. I didn’t really want her to cum from this….
I un-cuffed her, she curled up into my arms. I started to unbuckle the gag but she tossed her head and burried her face into my chest. I heard the sobs through the gag…long…racking ones that caused her whole body to jerk. Her tears were uncontrolled. I held her and rocked her slightly, saying nothing but putting my lips gently against her ear…letting her hear my breathing.
I just let her be…gagged…training collar on…I let her cry it out…held her…for whatever sins she imagined she had done that night before she called…for whatever sins others had done to her long ago that made her think she needed this…I let her cry.
Because she needed to.
“I need…†she had said breathlessly after her confession.
“Come over, right now and as you are, I will be waiting†I had responded. It would take her a few minutes, long enough to rinse myself off in the shower, put on a robe, and light a few candles. My body did these things as my mind turned her statements from the phone call back and forth, seeing what sort of puzzle she had presented me.
She had indeed needed. If she had told me tomorrow, I might have been angry, but not at her. If she had made me guess at what happened, I would have been furious…but just now, I was thoughtful. She had done what she could, made a mistake, and then admitted not only the mistake, but her need. As her Dominant and friend, and the only one who she could probably ask this of…it erased the anger. I thought on the call more deeply as I walked over to the umbrella stand, picking one of the fiberglass canes out of the holder. Still in thought, I pulled out a few restraints, an inflatable gag, and a few more items from the chest at the foot of the bed.
I set the items down, gave the highly flexible cane a few cuts through the hair to reacquaint myself with the weight and swing, and then gave one of the pillows on the bed a “WHACK†to remember the bend. I would have to be careful not to cut her with it…but it would serve tonight’s purpose.
The knock at the door was quiet, I didn’t turn on the porch light, but opened the door without a word. She took two steps in and dropped to her knees, head bowed and her arms automatically behind her. Her coat was open, a cocktail dress under it with a lace and sequined hem, the light caught the sparkle slightly. She said not a word…I suspected all of her words had gone through the phone.
I lifted her chin, bringing her eyes up…the tears were still flowing.
“Are you physically ok? If you are not I can call N, she owes me a favor and she’ll make a house-call…†She shook her head, but then jerked her chin out of my fingers and resumed looking at the floor.
I gave a sigh.
“Stand up,†I told her. I would have to examine her myself. Not that I didn’t trust her, but I didn’t think she could tell me if she was injured. She stood, and I walked behind her, brushing her coat off of her shoulders. It fell to the floor at her feet. I pealed the shoulder straps of her dress off of her shoulders too, unlike the coat it took more urging to slide off of her body. I left the top gathered at her hips. Her back didn’t show any bruising…but when I walked around her front, the story was different. I brushed her long hair away from her breasts, and saw the bruises immediately. One nipple looked like it had been bitten, it was still erect and an angry red. Her other breast had a long, ugly bruise across it.
“Crop?†I asked her as my fingers traced the bruise. She shook her head, frowning and angry and embarrassed. I slid her skirt up…she wasn’t wearing panties.
I ran my hands over her thighs, she automatically parted them. No bruises there…but I felt the stick after-effects of her encounter on her thighs.
“Did he cum inside you?†I asked. Again, she shook her head.
“Fingers only?†I asked again, my voice was in Command mode. She nodded.
The ‘why’ wasn’t important. I took a few more minutes to examine her, making sure nothing else was bruised or broken physically. I stepped back and let her kneel again.
She didn’t need a lecture. Maybe later she’d tell me why she had gone out with him again. It didn’t matter.
I picked up the gag. She was going to make noise, and 3am screaming wasn’t something I wanted the neighbors to question. She opened her mouth without a prompt, I buckled the straps behind her head, under her hair, and then attached the bulb to the valve. A few squeezes, and her mouth was full. I made sure the single tube through the middle of the gag was clear for air…she wouldn’t be able to breathe through her nose very well once the tears started in earnest again.
I knew she would have stood still and silent if I had ordered it, used her training at my Command. But tonight was for her. I would allow her to relax…so the cuffs went on her wrists and ankles next. I lead her over to the side of the bed. I grabbed the round cushion off of the spanking bench and placed it under her belly as she knelt forward. Each ankle was chained, one to the head board and one to the foot. I left her hands cuffed behind her. She was bent over the large round pillow, her knees apart, her skirt up over her ass…vulnerable and unable to do anything. I selected a training collar, and slipped it around her neck. One more chain came from the ring to the other side-rail on the bed…it would keep her from sitting up.
I saw she was wet again. An almost automatic reaction to her position (and maybe to me…). Any other night, I would slide a toy deep inside of her…filling her and stimulating, building a stronger link between the pain and pleasure. But not tonight. She needed…and the need was not for sexual pleasure.
“I am going to begin.†I told her softly as I set the crop across both of her cheeks, letting her feel exactly where I would strike. It was an odd scene.
I paused as I thought on this oddness. She loved being surprised. She loved being frightened a little, humiliated a little, used and fucked and swatted…
None of that was here tonight. She had told me….she needed….so I told exactly what would happen. I gave her the rope and the cuffs to allow her to just relax and feel what she needed. It was not a night for training or for work.
I thought of giving her a safe. I looked over at the super-ball I kept on my night-stand for times when a submissive was unable to say anything. Small enough to keep in her hand, if she dropped it I would have stopped.
Not tonight.
No safety.
No responsibility on her part to stop me.
She needed….
I raised the cane for the first blow. I landed it across both of her cheeks, hard enough to mark. I heard her sigh/grunt through the gag. Holding the cane on her ass, I looked at her face. The tears had started again.
There was a welt across both cheeks, dividing her ass into upper and lower halves. Not hard enough to cut…maybe that would come later. I set the cane down and moved the tall mirror in the corner over so I could monitor her face. She looked up at me through the mirror, the lower part of her face covered and distorted by the gag. But her eyes were crystal clear as she followed the cane up for the next blow. She did not tense. She accepted the blow as it fell, her eyes closing for a moment as I placed the next stripe an inch below the first. And another. And another…the rhythm starting, each blow an extension of the last. I was absorbed by placement and force…each would be exactly where I wanted it, and enough to hurt without damaging permanently. I felt the focus start to pull me away from the other purpose…I paused and looked in the mirror again. I saw her cheeks puffing out and in as she breathed through the pain. Her eyes were on my face through the mirror.
I divided my attention between her ass and her eyes. I ran my fingers over the little raised stripes across her ass, a touch after each addition. I lost count somewhere…it didn’t matter. What mattered were her eyes, that she was still not flinching. Her eyes told me one thing…â€Moreâ€.
I switched tactics. Turning the cane 90 degrees, I laid it gently on one lip of her labia. Her spread knees and ankles held her just slightly open, her inner folds peaked out from the outer. I looked at her. She closed her eyes. I finally understood. Punishment for what she saw as the place that had betrayed her. The place she had wanted to keep for me…
It would be delicate work. I put down the cane and grabbed my leather wrapped crop. The slapper would spread the impact in this sensitive area. I laid it against her skin, she did not move or open her eyes. The blow was sharp…
She moaned through the gag. It was not an erotic sound, but one of a wounded animal. I struck again, the other lip…hard…but pulling just before the shaft impacted, the leather of the slapper carrying the momentum into her cunt. She moaned again.
I did this slowly, hearing her react after every blow, each one far less viscous than the ones I had striped her ass with…but in a far more sensitive area. I took my time, watching her face until she relaxed and was ready for the next one, and only then turning my attention back to her pro-offered cunt for another blow. These I counted.
I stopped at 16.
Her ass was red, her mons red as well, and she was still wet…so very wet that the slapper almost splashed with the last few blows. I ran my hand over the hot skin…all over it….her ass…her mons…her lips…sliding one finger inside as I did but not curling it or pressing against her G spot. I didn’t really want her to cum from this….
I un-cuffed her, she curled up into my arms. I started to unbuckle the gag but she tossed her head and burried her face into my chest. I heard the sobs through the gag…long…racking ones that caused her whole body to jerk. Her tears were uncontrolled. I held her and rocked her slightly, saying nothing but putting my lips gently against her ear…letting her hear my breathing.
I just let her be…gagged…training collar on…I let her cry it out…held her…for whatever sins she imagined she had done that night before she called…for whatever sins others had done to her long ago that made her think she needed this…I let her cry.
Because she needed to.
Sadistic Bastard
No Mercy
Mmm...must have frightened you all off with that one.
S. SaDiablo
New member
SB,
I don't know what to say. I'm speechless. That was...amazing, emotional... I can't find the words to adequately describe it. I don't know if they even exist.
The last few lines... they really struck the emotions within me. In a way, I feel like I can relate. Oh, yes, how I can relate...
Thank you.
I don't know what to say. I'm speechless. That was...amazing, emotional... I can't find the words to adequately describe it. I don't know if they even exist.
The last few lines... they really struck the emotions within me. In a way, I feel like I can relate. Oh, yes, how I can relate...
Thank you.
S. SaDiablo
New member
I can't stop crying and I don't even know why I started, lol! A smut thread shouldn't make me cry...
chronic deja vu
I'm not wearing any pants!!
Sadistic Bastard said:
I found it disturbing and a little bit of a turn on. I say disturbing because I am sorry that someone had to go through that. The pain for this is huge. I say turn on because you are very good at describing a scene, or writing in general, and I felt like I was there. But I didn't want to be there.
Neil
Out of the closet
Sadistic Bastard said:
Oh, you're very good.
I haven't taken the time to brush up on the "legend" that is SB. I haven't bothered to seek out the old threads and "get to know" you, but what I have seen since your return has revealed a great many things about you that I appreciate.
I understand what you're doing here. There is a way about you... a style... a panache... a commitment... an honesty... a trust... that is deliberate and intoxicating.
I am intrigued by "the lifestyle" and may have the opportunity to explore this further someday, but for now, I am on the periphery, on the outside looking in. Thank you for opening this window.
Your story was brilliant, controlled, powerful, and moving. I have questions, but don't know how to phrase them.
Sadistic Bastard
No Mercy
Thank you all for your feedback. I appreciate it.
This story is really about how and what a Dominant can do to "serve" a submissive's needs. The circle in power exchange (and it IS a circle) often blurrs the lines between the Command of a Dom, and the Need of a submissive. The two, ideally, match.
This story, and it's only semi-fictional, is not about the Dominant's pleasure. There is a pleasure in the control, in a job done properly and precisely. Using a cane is dangerous, more so than most people realize. It takes a lot of concentration and focus to hit exactly right. That, in this story, is the only real "pleasure". The rest is nurturing. She needed that scene, and needed the release it brought to her. She needed to be accepted and safe afterward, without judgment, and with NOTHING demanded of her.
A submissive trained by me will assume "mental chains" if required. In other words, she'll be expected to hold a position if I just tell her to assume it, no rope or other restraints. When she does this, she is "working", she is exerting her will (at my Command) to obey. She is making a constant choice to obey. But a woman restrained physically, once she is there, she can relax. She's made the choice, now the rope does the work for her. She can just Feel.
The woman in this story needed to Feel. She needed Forgiveness...mainly from herself, and pain was the only way she could grant herself that. The Dominant served that need, in this case.
BDSM is not always straightforward. Just as relationships are rarely black and white. In the end, BDSM is a form of relationship, and the interaction between people is what keeps it fascinating for me. It makes me SEE them, it makes me feel intensely, and it brings me pleasure in making them see me, and maybe Feel something (desire, need, guilt, even love) for the first time...because I've given them no choice but to feel it.
-SB
This story is really about how and what a Dominant can do to "serve" a submissive's needs. The circle in power exchange (and it IS a circle) often blurrs the lines between the Command of a Dom, and the Need of a submissive. The two, ideally, match.
This story, and it's only semi-fictional, is not about the Dominant's pleasure. There is a pleasure in the control, in a job done properly and precisely. Using a cane is dangerous, more so than most people realize. It takes a lot of concentration and focus to hit exactly right. That, in this story, is the only real "pleasure". The rest is nurturing. She needed that scene, and needed the release it brought to her. She needed to be accepted and safe afterward, without judgment, and with NOTHING demanded of her.
A submissive trained by me will assume "mental chains" if required. In other words, she'll be expected to hold a position if I just tell her to assume it, no rope or other restraints. When she does this, she is "working", she is exerting her will (at my Command) to obey. She is making a constant choice to obey. But a woman restrained physically, once she is there, she can relax. She's made the choice, now the rope does the work for her. She can just Feel.
The woman in this story needed to Feel. She needed Forgiveness...mainly from herself, and pain was the only way she could grant herself that. The Dominant served that need, in this case.
BDSM is not always straightforward. Just as relationships are rarely black and white. In the end, BDSM is a form of relationship, and the interaction between people is what keeps it fascinating for me. It makes me SEE them, it makes me feel intensely, and it brings me pleasure in making them see me, and maybe Feel something (desire, need, guilt, even love) for the first time...because I've given them no choice but to feel it.
-SB