Advent Kinkendar: December 12th [Ffm]

I love my tail plug, but Miss had us remove them this morning; access to our behinds was necessary for the day’s activities. Today is halfway through the experience, and I’m loving it more than I could ever have imagined it would.

I woke up to a rough slap to my face, automatically putting my hands up against further blows as I came round. Instead Miss slapped my ass, alternating between the boy and I wherever we weren’t protecting. Inside my morning’s box was a hefty wooden paddle, drilled with holes, and the word “SLUT” carved into the very centre. The boy’s contained a crop with a heart shaped leather piece on the end. “Today, sluts, you’re going to be beaten and bruised.” Miss winked, “So bend over”.

I was surprised to be getting going like this already, but we both got onto all fours on our beds. Miss took the paddle first and brought it down firmly against my ass. I grunted as it made contact, feeling the thud through my whole body, my breasts shaking and my ass stinging a little. Clearly that was not a very strong blow, but it certainly had an effect. She repeated on the boy, making him squeak a little; I grinned.

She continued taking it in turns to clout our backsides with the wood, both of us clenching our teeth and crying out with each one. “This is what we call thuddy” Miss explained gleefully. I could feel my ass burning red and beginning to bruise, and I admit I was very relieved when she stopped. She crouched down between us, caressing our asses, and probably admiring the colours they were turning. “Next up is stingy” she said in a sort of dreamy voice before bringing the crop down on my ass hard.

I squealed really loud and fell over, my ass burning so bad. The boy also shouted out loudly as she treated him to the same. I wriggled and clenched my ass involuntarily as though trying to escape the pain. Fuck!

Miss allowed me to get over it and back into position before treating my other cheek to the same. “There, now you all match” she beamed, looking down at her handiwork, “want to see?”. The boy responded first, looking round at my ass as I continued to squirm. When I got a look at his, I could see the clear heart shaped mark of the crop amongst the dark red left by the paddle.

Just to tease us, as well as to provide some contrast to yesterday, Miss permitted us to sit with her for breakfast, after preparing it of course. But sitting was just another uncomfortable thing after those beatings, and I would rather have continued standing. The whole time I wriggled and moved from cheek to cheek while I ate.

After cleaning up the dishes, Miss directed us to the kink room to get back out the bench she used a few days ago to tie the boy to, and another one identical to it. We placed both side by side in the living room and she began to strap us onto them. She even removed the boy’s cage again, positioning his cock and balls squarely between his legs down the end of the bench.

“Your skin has been beautifully prepared, the perfect canvas for my art”. There was a gleeful streak in her voice which made me nervous. “So let’s begin with this beautiful birch crop. Listen, do you hear it?” I could hear her swish it through the air behind us. This time the boy got it first, and he howled out in pain.

Now look, you already know that we both have our safewords which we can use; but with the caveat that they say that we want out of the entire experience. That alone has been stopping us using them frivolously; but Miss was clever to pick a pair of subs, because psychologically that puts us both in unspoken competition, neither wanting to be the first to break. Of course by now we have both learned quite a lot of trust in Mistress, and so we’re more prepared to go through things which would worry us too much otherwise.

Well that’s the reason that when the crop came down on my ass, I shrieked but still didn’t safeword out. The sting stretched across the top of both cheeks, making my ass clench & jiggle, and my whole body shake and jerk. The second brought tears to the corners of my eyes, and by the fifth not only had I lost count, but I was practically sobbing.

Miss came close and inspected the weals across my cheeks, every touch of her fingers making me wince and whimper. It was so fucking painful! I didn’t even feel much like a good service slut at that point, just wanted to grit my teeth and get through. I guess she was aware of this fact, since she soon began to softly massage my pussy, and from the groans of the boy I suspect his cock too. With her soft words of encouragement, I did start to feel more like her slut, and prouder of taking it for her again.

She brought us both to full arousal and the brink of orgasm, stopping just as my pussy started to clench and twitch, desperate for more The pain of the beating not forgotten, but dulled and mingled with the pleasure in a strange and confusing sensation.

The next caning came completely unexpectedly, swishing down much lower this time and just catching my now swollen pussy lips. I shrieked so loud my throat hurt, almost drowning out the yell from the boy as I guess she got his cock or balls. Seconds later her fingers were back on my clit, and I was sobbing and moaning in equal measure, my emotions so utterly confused.

She let me cum, but I honestly can hardly remember it, I was just such a mess. I do remember her gently applying aloe to my stinging skin before releasing me from the bindings.

I was visibly shaking as I climbed down and into her waiting arms, sobbing against her chest. By this point it wasn’t really about the pain as much anymore, but an intensity of scene that I am not at all accustomed to. Had it not been for the incentive of “beating” (no pun intended) the boy, I would certainly have safeworded out, despite losing out on the rest of the experience.

“Very proud of you, sweetheart.” she kissed my head, laying me down on my side and covering me. “Let me tend to him too”.

I’m not sure if I slept or what happened, but everything from then until lunch is basically gone, apart from the general feeling of Miss being close and tending to me, or us, I suppose.

As I got up from the floor to my knees gingerly, I looked down between my legs to see the red mark straight across both of my lips. It throbbed and they were visibly swollen, but most of the stinging pain was gone, just a dull ache like a bruise. Miss didn’t make us sit to eat this time, but she did ensure we were well fed and hydrated, as well as reapplying some ointment. “Don’t worry, that’s all your ass will be taking today” she reassured; though it only made me worry what else she had planned for where else.

“We’ve done thuddy and stingy, the third and final beating experience for you is what we describe as slappy.” she said with us both strapped down spread eagle on our backs across the table. “We’ll need this…” she paused, “nice and hard. This should help”. I looked down and saw her stretching a tight set of rubber rings around the base of his cock and balls. After she was done his cock stood up straight, throbbing.

“Let us begin”. I winced as I felt her flat palm come down on my tender pussy; even the faint slap bringing up reminders of the previous stinging. Then the boy squeaked as I heard another slap on his flesh.

Apparently not satisfied with just her palm, Miss picked a flogger and began teasingly slapping the leather thongs across our bodies. It was just hard enough to pink our skin, not enough to cause any discomfort; but that was only the warmup. Suddenly the thing came down on one of my nipples much harder, a crack like a whip as I screamed, then immediately the same to the other as well. Up until now Miss had been alternating between us, so this took me especially by surprise.

Both of my nipples were throbbing and standing out hard as Miss’ flogging worked its way down. I started to pant, my eyes opening wide as she approached my already sensitive pussy. I tried and tried to hold back, but as she slapped both of my thighs I couldn’t help it. “No, please no” I begged desperately, only just managing to resist using my safeword, not even feeling embarrassed to have broken before the boy.

Miss ignored my words and the toy came down hard on my crotch. I shrieked louder than ever, struggling against my bonds to try and clench my legs together against the pain. Alas, I was stuck, and the boy’s matching yell moments later did little to make me feel better.

Thankfully my most tender parts got a little rest as Miss focussed on the rest of my body. I could feel the heat building as each slap made me redder and redder, my inner thighs especially susceptible to the beating, beginning to burn. I did my best to control my breathing, steady breaths and hold my composure, but out of the blue another blow landed on my nipple and I howled. From the noises coming from beside me I supposed that similar attention was being paid to the boy’s cock and balls.

I know I keep saying how things are the most intense things I’ve ever experienced, and I feel like it’s starting to sound insincere; but honestly Miss just keeps ramping things up. As she kept flogging me I began to feel a weird detachment from the experience, the pain not any less, but accompanied with an amazing, primal sense of… I just don’t know what or how to explain it. But I can say that even now, still being unable to sit, and feeling the effects all over my skin; I feel like I’ve been given something that I never even knew I needed.

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