/you, close to the edge/
/softly, I push you over/
/whilst holding your gaze/*
A different kind of story as I let my inner dom loose for a change….
I love how your muscles are stretched and defined by the cross I have you tied to, how your breasts are lifted up, nipples pointing. I know that your discomfort from this forced elongation is mild, allowing you to focus on the other forms of discomfort to which I have subjected you over the past hour: the prolonged spanking, the flogging on your back and chest, the anal hook deep inside you, removed before I bound you to the cross.
You breathe deeply, collecting yourself and I notice a faint shudder run through your body. These small signs tell me you are not far from the edge, from your limit of endurance. I know that if I force you to approach it in long strides you will stop short, frightened by its proximity and the unknown beyond. Yet if we make our approach with small, careful steps you will allow me to take you to the very brink and, holding my hand, you will peer into the abyss. That is my goal for the final moments of our session.
The two lines of sprung pegs start at the top of your breasts, run over your chest and across your stomach, finishing alongside your belly button. A thin cord connects the pegs of each line. Additional pegs are attached directly to each nipple. Each peg pinches your skin, creating its individual challenge for you to overcome. Together they are sending ripples of pain through your whole body that become waves as I run a crop up and down the lines of pegs. I can sense you riding the waves of pain by controlling your breathing; slow deep breathes when I stand back; sharp faster breaths when I move the pegs. We both sense the nearness of the edge. The warm embrace of subspace is close now but you are not yet in its arms. You look into my eyes and give me a small smile through the pain, your way of saying you are OK and that I can go on. I love you for it.
I tug the two cords , causing the bottom peg on each line to release. You breath in sharply, “AAhh”, not a yell but a soft sound as you accept the pain. Another tug, two pegs on each line; harder this, your response more vigorous. You move against the straps binding you to the cross, pushing your body outwards in response to the pain. You look wonderful, body straining towards me, neck stretched upwards. Another jerk. Three pegs. A longer cry. A shudder runs from your feet all the way to your hands. Your mind is focussed only on the pain I am causing you, the restraints, and on the edge itself, so close you fear its proximity.
Yet still you have the strength to look into my eyes, the connection between us an electric current as we share the intensity of the experience. I feel so close to you now. I grip the cords taking up the slack, allow you a deep breath in preparation and, pulling hard, tear off the last pegs. Again you strain against the bonds, crying out, trying to absorb the pain. I can see in your eyes you have reached the edge. This is your limit. I sense the endorphins taking over your body, embracing you, letting you start to slip away from me.
Two pegs remain, one on each nipple, the pinched skin white in their grasp, waiting for blood to return in a rush of sensation. I touch your face lightly, dipping a hand into your subspace and pulling you back to the surface for this final act. Picking up my leather flogger I stand back and hold you just above the surface with my gaze, looking deep into your eyes. I swing the whip, a hard blow, direct across your breast, the peg flying off. You scream. Another blow, the other breast, Another scream as the final peg hits the floor. Now you are over the edge, free-falling into subspace and this time I let you go, wrapping my arms around you as you slump against the cross. Our bodies tight together, breathing in unison, revelling in the intensity of this moment, the world reduced to the small space we occupy. Over the edge together.
My prompt for this piece is the first kinky Haiku sent to me by the Queen of Haiku, the marvellous @19syllables, sadly no longer on Twitter, though I suspect she still watches us from a quiet corner somewhere. It made me shiver. In only 3 lines she had put me right at that moment where a mistress, having got me at my limit, safe word coming to the surface, looks directly into my eyes to watch my reaction as she pushes me over the edge. I like to switch so I thought for this post I would put myself in the Top role for a change. It was fun!