Taste of Impact

[La****]

So many different flavors. Like chilis, a spectrum
that runs from a hint of heat to a blast
that leaves tears running from your eyes.
First, the cool. A flogger. Splat, and glide.
Fronds falling like waves. Caressing, stroking.
The warm up, awakening your naked skin.
Turn the dial, just a touch. A crop, or perhaps
a leather paddle. Thin, Floppy. Two layers
that smack against each other, producing
more sound than sting. Sharp little smacks,
the beginning of ***. You stay relaxed,
sprawled across the spanking bench. This
is your comfort zone. Gentle. Pleasurable.
Change it up. Leather to wood. Solid,
unyielding. Sting to thud. It's deeper now,
resonating within muscle, a bloom of ***
that throbs and lingers. The rhythm changes.
No more breaks. A relentless drum beat
that builds and builds. Here is where
you cry out. Tense. Fingers grip the leather
of the padded bench. Teeth bare. Breath
rasps. Here is where you think: this is more
than I can take. A sober escapes, earns you
a reprieve. A murmured “Good girl” and
a stroking hand. A reset. Back to the flogger
to loosen those tense muscles. Take you
down from the ceiling, let the endorphins
work their magic on you. You know, though,
its temporary. There's more to come. Worse.
Cane. That springy metal thing with the heart
… and the spikes. The mark leavers. The
*** that stings but then explodes. Your cries
will fill the air. Your tears will smear the leather.
Your shoulder will hurt as much as your ass
tomorrow, from hanging on as best you can.
You hate it; you love it. You crave it.
You want the fire, the burn, the hottest bite.

[al****]

This is where I want to be...

[Bi****]

Delightful experience! Amazingly done👏