Flogasm

I had a very exciting new experience earlier this week. I had an orgasm just from being flogged. It was so intense that word doesn't seem to do it justice.

I've had a paingasm before, but that was when there was pain being directly applied to my lady bits (bulldog clips, in fact - owee), so it seemed a bit more like normal stimulation. It was situated in the usual place in my body. And it was definitely a pain, rather than a pleasure, orgasm (although I'll admit that the line is sometimes hard to draw between the two). This was something else.

It's been a while since I've bottomed and we've done impact play in any serious way. The joys of two switches with very wide-ranging kinks playing together - we have the pleasure of infinite variety, but it means you'll sometimes suddenly realise you desperately need a dose of that-thing-we-haven't-done-in-ages. So we'd discussed and both heartily agreed that I was long overdue a spanking. It wasn't too long after I was thrown over his lap that I had the familiar feeling of wishing he'd stop and wishing he wouldn't stop all at once, his hand viciously crashing down on my increasingly sore bottom. I always think to myself that a hand spanking can't hurt me - it's so mild - and then I have one and remember they can really hurt! My protests mostly surpressed, Mr L moved onto the paddle. It was a relief to begin with, and I started to enjoy the sensations again. A quick check between my legs betrayed me, and he moved me to a new position, bending me over the sofa and giving me a few seconds to cool down.

The paddle continued, and this time harder, causing my muscles to tighten in resistance and flinch in anticipation. Of course, Mr L has the perfect antidote to this. Every time I tensed, he would fuck me, causing me to relax and refocus my feelings on that area. Every time I relaxed he would return to paddling me, making the most of my sensitised state. In the end, he let me cum, fingers digging sharply into my hips, intoxicated by my squeals of pain and pleasure.

And so he moved me again, ready for a flogging. Enter the new flogger. I'm so in love with it I'll do something I rarely do here, and tell you where I got it: Jack's Floggers. They really are ace - they look good, feel good (in your hand or on you) and even smell good. Anyway, that's not the point of this story. But I am in love with flogging, more than a little bit!

As his blows started raining down on my shoulders and back, it felt like heaven. With a lot of impact play, I do process it as pain. It's pleasurable pain, and pain I get sexually aroused from often, but it's pain, and there is a mental struggle to submit to it. But with this it felt like strong light falling on my skin, awakening the energy beneath, causing ripples of pleasure throughout my nervous system with every strike. As he hit me again and again with the flogger, it was as if the ripples of pleasure were overwhelming me, intersecting and making new patterns until I felt completely enveloped with a bright, vibrating energy. I could feel myself begin to shake, but that outward manifestation was the most minor of all of my sensations. Another blow pushed me over the crest of the wave, and the sensation broke into a powerful, full-body orgasm. I found myself shaking and spasming in such an intensity that I wanted to bring him with me, to describe, to capture, but all I managed was gibberish.

His voice sounded far away but also comfortingly familiar, like a memory of home, when he spoke to me. Softly, he spoke to me, anchored me, pleased and wondering at what had just occurred, his gentle stroking of my back grounding me. As full of words as I usually am, I was speechless.

I leave you with an image of Alex Grey's artwork. I think it's beautiful, and sums up much better than I could in words what I'd like to say about energy.