I don’t usually think of myself as sadistic. I’m perfectly happy whipping my boy gently, even leaving some light marks but I rarely want to cause pain.
Sometimes, I even find myself on the edge of tears as I whip him, overwhelmed by the love he gives me as he allows me to hurt him. I know then that I need that love, need to accept it, to give him the chance to give it and yet I don’t want to hurt him. In response to that love I want to hold him, to wrap him up safely and warm but this love is expressed through pain so I continue, loved and loving, despite the contradiction.
Then I took Mat out to play one night, and was introduced to the ‘spit roast’. A long thin bench to which a submissive can be strapped and which can be rotated at a variety of speeds.
Initially I fastened Mat to it with the leather straps provided but although they held him firmly he was in some discomfort as he turned, I noted the need for extra fastenings and let him go.
A little later in the evening though and I couldn’t resist trying again. Mat was blindfolded and I helped him onto the bench, smiling as I watched him realise where he was. I strapped him on and then used two lengths of rope to wrap around him spreading the load.
This time he was clearly more comfortable as I rotated him through 360 degrees. I decided to make it a little more interesting. I took the clover clamps and fastened them to Mat’s nipples. He winced as they closed on his flesh. Slowly I restarted the machine. I watched as Mat’s body stared to tip. He groaned as he realised what would happen next. As he turned, his body hung sideways and the clamps swung free and then gravity pulled them down. He yelped in pain as the weight of the clamps and the chain tugged at him.
He continued to turn until his body moved under the clips and he sighed with relief as the pressure eased and as he approached a horizontal position once again.
He breathed out his tension and the table turned until he reached the apex of his rotation…and continued to turn.
“Oh no”, he whimpered, “not again”.
I watched as the clamps swung down again and Mat groaned in pain.
As I stood watching, bent slightly over the controls, I was aware suddenly of how turned on I was, how close to cumming. I wanted then to leave Mat bound, spinning slowly, where he was; to prolong this torture indefinitely.
I have never felt like a sadist before but this time I really did. I fed on his anticipation, his fear and his pain; I loved it, needed it, wanted to make it last.
He wondered aloud what it would be like to have his cock sucked. I crouched down, taking him in my mouth as he passed through the upward part of his circle. I wanted him to enjoy it, wanted to increase his tolerance, because I wasn’t ready to stop.
In the end though I did have mercy on him. I needed to end it gently, before he had taken too much. I wanted him to be a willing victim the next time I felt like strapping him to that contraption. I wanted to be sure he would lie down willingly for me again.
I want to torture him again.