13 March 2012

Lovingly broken.

A tear escaped from the corner of his eye, gently rolling down his cheek before hitting the table to which he was tightly restrained.  His chest began to heave as the single tear turned into a gentle flow, a puddle of tears forming on the wood beneath him.

She didn't stop.

The solid oak paddle that he had presented to her only a short while ago, continued to make heavy contact with his naked cheeks, a sharp intake of breath each time the wood made contact with his reddened skin.  His hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white with the force of the grip as he held on to take the pain that she was inflicting upon him.

But even though it hurt him beyond words, even though he was almost broken, he knew that it was nothing less than he had deserved.  He had unleased the beast, and in turn had been restrained against the table, slumping against the wood which was keeping him in the position, his naked ass at just the right height to take the blows that were regularly making contact with him.

She wasn't angry.  But disappointed.  The evening was supposed to have been a special one, and he had ruined it.  Unintentionally it would seem, but he knew straight away that he would regret what he had said.

And he was. Regretting it.

Regretting it in a way he normally wouldn't, but he had unleashed the beast and in doing so, he was almost broken.

His tears continued to fall.  His sobs could be heard between each contact the paddle made with his skin.  His beggings fell on deaf ears.  His pleadings and screams doing so also.  Her arm ached from the repetitive movement of bringing the paddle down upon him.

He was slumped over the table, his sobs clearly audible, the tears falling in a constant stream.

He was broken.  But beatifully so.

And she knew that he had learned his lesson.

She placed the paddle on the table next to him, and wiped the tears that were falling from his eyes.  His hair was matted with sweat, tears and snot. His ass was already turning purple and black from the bruises that were making their way to the surface.  As she released him from his restraints, his knees buckled and he slumped to the floor. 

His breathing was erratic, his sobs had eased although tears still fell. But he was done screaming and pleading. 

"I'm sorry."
"I'm so sorry." he had whispered.

"I'm glad to hear it." she replied.

"It's over. It's done." she said to him as she slowly lifted him up from the floor, taking him into her arms.  And as he gripped her arms tightly, and rested his head against her chest, his broken self sobbed, his chest heaving, and she felt the tears making contact with her skin as she continued to hold him, stroking his hair.

Her arm ached.  And she could see that she had gone to a level she had not taken him before.

He was broken.  Yet beautifully so.

As he turned his face up to look at her, she kissed him gently.  She knew that she had come close to going too far as she looked at him, the pain he was feeling clear from the look in his eyes, but she also knew how to control the beast even when it was unleashed.

"I'm sorry." he whispered hoarsely. "I disobeyed and broke the rule.  I am sorry.  God it hurts."

"It's supposed to. That's the point" she replied and she held him, stroking him, bringing him in close. 

"It's over. It's done." She repeated to him.

"Thank you." he whispered back as he moved his broken body in closer to her arms, drinking in its warmth and comfort.  Comforting himself in arms that had inflicted such pain upon him.  Knowing that she loved him despite hurting him.  Knowing that with every contact of the paddle that it had been done with love. 

But she had hurt him.  Broken him.

He knew that.

But she loved him.  She cherished him.

He knew that too.


  1. Broken and loved so deeply, what a delicious combination!

  2. Such profound cruelty and depraved indifference to human suffering. Wow. All due to an "unintentional" act that led to disappointment.