Sometimes life can get a little out of kilter. The work/life balance can become a bit uncentred. Even at home, where life should hopefully dominate, the balance between the mundane, everyday parts of living and the more highly charged bits that make living enjoyable can become weighted in the wrong direction.
Often, when such things happen, it’s no one’s fault; real life is seldom tidy. Tasks can take longer than anticipated, things pop up that you weren’t expecting, stress, tiredness and just the routine of day-to-day life can build up and extract a toll that means you have to make more of an effort to do the things you enjoy. This can become a vicious circle as the extra effort needed detracts from the enjoyment, thus requiring more effort which can then reduce the enjoyment even more.
For me, sometimes all that is needed to re-establish some equilibrium is an orgasm or two. These can be self-induced or result from a thorough seeing-to from Master C (or “The Girl”/”The Other Guy”).
Orgasms are great stress relievers; you can actually feel the tension being drained from your body as your climax subsides and its energy dissipates; and with it, your cares/worries can, even if momentarily, be washed away. It doesn’t matter how I get there, whether the orgasm is a result of my own actions or the ministrations of a partner, the effect is pretty much the same; a warm, relaxed feeling of contentment and satisfaction that just makes the world feel right.
Sometimes though, more is needed. Sometimes things get so out of whack that there is only one thing I know of that will set me back on track. It may seem somewhat counter-intuitive, but sometimes what I really need is the pain of a solid thrashing from Master C’s belt.
In the ideal scenario, I’m securely tied to His “work bench” The clamps on my nipples dig into my skin as the hard wooden surface beneath me squashes my boobs. My ankles and wrists are bound tight, the leather cuffs chafing my skin. The ball gag in my mouth adds to my discomfort.
There is the prolonged anticipation that awaits the first stroke; an anticipation that almost turns to relief when the brief swooshing sound of the belt’s travel through the air begins. It’s a relief that turns to a hot, stinging pain as the leather connects with a resounding slap against the skin of my arse.
From there on it is all about endurance; accepting each kiss of the belt as they rain down one after the other. By the time Master C has finished, both sets of cheeks, my face and my arse, are flaming red. Tears stream from my eyes. My cunt is hot and wet with intense arousal. Every nerve is crying out in sympathy with my tortured backside.
I wince as He grips my hips, His fingertips digging in, and then I moan around the gag as His lovely thick cock slides so easily into me and He begins to fuck me.
Master C’s Thrusts are accompanied with occasional slaps to my buttocks. He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head sharply back as He fucks me. Friction from the cuffs around my wrists and ankles, the pain of the clamps on my nipples being pushed into my boobs combine with the intense sensations of His cock filling me, pounding me, taking me, fucking me and I slip into the restorative calm, the eye of the storm that is my particular form of subspace.
All conscious thought is banished, my body is simply responding. Master C knows my body, knows its responses and can trigger this state in me almost effortlessly. I surrender to it; oblivious to everything but the sensations, the wonderfully delicious juxtaposition of pain and intense pleasure that coarse through me.
When at last it is over; Master C’s thick, hot load inside me, my bindings, clamps and gag removed, the soothing balm applied to my buttocks and I am lying wrapped up in His arms as He strokes my head; I am restored. I have found a new sense of balance.