The Beating

 Listen to Ruby Read:The Beating

The smell of leather as I fasten the cuffs around your wrists and ankles is intoxicating and brings back memories for me. Every time.

You are nervous. You’ve never been beaten before. But you want it. Because it pleases me.

Before I brought you into the dungeon I gave you a butt plug to put in and a jock strap to put on. The plug is a pretty one, with a jewel in the end of it so that onlookers will see flashes of sparkle between your lovely ass cheeks as you twist and turn away from my whip. Your cock is half hard with its presence in your ass. Those two items are your only adornments.

This whipping is attracting attention. I’m not surprised. Watching someone get beaten for the first time is always a spectacle. When it’s a tall, built guy who oozes masculinity, spectatorship becomes laced with fascination and the chairs are filled.

All are quiet and respectful as I fasten your wrist cuffs to the bar hanging overhead. Then I put a spreader bar down and attach your ankles to it. Not too wide, it will nonetheless keep your feet separated enough so that I have access to…all of you.

You are standing in the middle of the room blushing as I come around to the front of you. Taking your face in my hands I kiss you softly and deeply…and reassuringly. My hand caresses the back of your neck as we kiss in a silent message. It’s gonna be okay, baby. I will take good care of you.

I slip the blindfold over your head and take away the visual quotient of your nervousness; all those people watching.

I run my hands over you, gently stroking your shoulders, arms, chest, back and ass. I pull your ass cheeks apart to show the onlookers on that side of the room the jeweled plug and there is a soft murmur of appreciation. Your blush returns.

I pick up my flogger and start to warm you up. The leather meets your skin firmly and I can tell you are surprised it doesn’t hurt more. I scatter the blows across your back but concentrate on your ass until your skin is red and you begin to wince a bit.

I stop flogging you, stand behind you and press my body against yours. I can feel the heat from the redness and I run my hands all over your body once again, soothing you, reassuring you. Then I pick up my crop. Whereas the flogger was like a soft thud on your skin and went down a few layers, the crop is more on the surface and it stings. I rain light blows all across your ass, both sides, and then concentrate on the sweet spot – the bottom of your ass cheeks – until you finally gasp and try to twist away just a little. You are struggling so I give you another break, smoothing my hands across your red hot skin and twisting your nipples. That will give you something else to think about. I grab your crotch through the jock strap and squeeze just a little too hard until you start to pull away.

I continue to work over your ass with my crop until you begin to make noises. Your voice finds its way out in grunts, betraying the effort you are making not to cry out. We do a dance of tolerance and pushing. I hit you as many times as it takes to get you close to calling yellow or red and then back off to soft, playful slaps of my crop until I see a sheen of sweat in the middle of your back.

Again I come in close, kissing you and checking in this time. I whisper in your ear. How you doing, baby? If I could see your eyes I know they’d be shining. You smile and nod your head. I kiss your cheek, your neck and your lips, softly.

Finally I leave your side and pick up a singletail whip. I drape it across your shoulder and trail the length of it over you as I take my position behind you. The first kiss of the whip surprises you. The crack is not as loud, but there is definitely a sting. It’s a worse sting than the crop but somehow less deep. There’s an initial zing of pain but it fades more quickly. Once more I push your limits and punish your ass with stroke after stroke. Occasionally the end of the whip finds its way to your inner thighs and that’s the first time you begin to cry out before you even think about it.

You are breathing hard now and your whole body is tense, trying to work through the pain…trying to take it because I want you to. By the time I take my last two strokes, each leaving an immediate welt on the round ass cheek where they land, you are gasping, dripping with sweat and softly crying out with every stroke.

I lay the whip aside and press my body against your naked, sweaty back and ass, holding you against me with my arms around your chest. I don’t care about the sweat. I’m just so proud of you. Proud that you let me whip you. That you let me put you on display for my pleasure and the pleasure of my friends. Proud that you took everything I dished out to you. Proud that the hot, muscular body that everyone was watching tonight belongs to me.

And that’s what is going through my mind as I unfasten the cuffs from your ankles, rubbing each of them in turn where the straps made then red. I remove your blindfold and wipe the sweat off your face with a cool damp towel. I kiss you softly, holding your face in my hands. I wipe the sweat from your neck, back, chest and torso. Your eyes are still closed and your head hangs limply while you wait for me to remove the cuffs from your wrists. Everyone watches this quietly. Sometimes the aftercare becomes a lovely dance between the participants of the scene. The intimacy of it, the way the submissive is emotionally laid open and the tender care of the dominant can be poignant to witness.

I wrap you in a light blanket and take you into another room where there is an overstuffed couch. I lay back and open my arms. You put your head on my chest and curl your large frame up to fit in my arms, hugging the blanket to your now chilled body. Your eyes are closed and you are flying from the endorphin rush. I run my fingers through your hair and just hold you. People walk by occasionally and smile knowingly.

You are snuggled against me. You don’t notice the people walking by. You are consumed by a world of sensation. You are flying high even as your ass continues to sting. My hand running through your hair feels amazing because everything is heightened. I stay there with you, holding you, for a good 15 minutes until your breathing is normal and you warm up again. Then I take you into one of the private rooms of the dungeon, which we have rented for the night. Because we are not finished here.

I strip, don my favorite strap-on, pull a sturdy chair out to the center of the room and sit on it. I lube up my cock slowly, stroking it as if it were real. You watch me from the bed, still wrapped in your blanket, a lazy smile on your face. I beckon you to join me on the chair, and you respond slowly.

I’m wearing one of my smaller cocks. You have worked hard enough tonight for me with your beating. I don’t want you to have to work to take my cock inside you. You put one leg up on the bed and remove the beautiful jeweled butt plug that was enjoyed by many a viewer tonight. I almost forgot it was there but I know you didn’t. You set it on the table next to the bed and come to me for your fucking.

Your long legs straddle me, standing over me. Your cock is stirring now with the removal of the plug and the thoughts of feeling me inside you. Steadying it with your hand, you eagerly sink down onto my cock. I watch your face as it slides all the way in. That look of open-mouthed surprise and passion…I never tire of it. You wrap your arms around me and begin to move back and forth, sliding a bit on my legs. That’s all the movement you need, really. Just that little in and out and you’re a happy, moaning, gasping man. I tell you to come anytime. You’ve been a good boy tonight. I want to watch you come hard and deep. You can catch me up with my pleasure tomorrow.

All too soon you softly say the words, oh, babe!….and your orgasm begins. You moan and roar with the strength of it, fucking yourself hard against me and covering our bellies with hot stickiness. Then you cling to me with a few tears running down your face.

This play we do…it goes deep. And deep is where your tears are. When you are ready you slide off me. I get a warm damp towel and clean us up. The come and lube cleaned away, we crawl under the covers.

I kiss your tear-stained cheeks and gather you into my arms, holding you against the softness of my breasts. We lay there silent until I feel you begin to shake just a little, and your release begins. Your sobs are soft and deep. Your body shudders. Some of your pain comes out with those tears. Just a little; as much as you can let go of this time. More than usual, when I fuck you. Your beating opened you up emotionally. No words need to be spoken between us. This is what we do. This is what you need. I hold you, rock you a little and tell you how much I love you.

We fall asleep to the faint sounds of other couples trying to find their bliss; that deep place inside, and the release it brings.

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Rating: 9.7/10 (3 votes cast)
The Beating, 9.7 out of 10 based on 3 ratings

 

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11 Responses to “The Beating”

  1. Lars says:

    I love how you mix pain and tenderness so well in this story. Going from beating his ass cheeks hard to sharing a soft intimate kiss perfectly sums up what BDSM should be like in my opinion!

    And the fucking on the chair afterwards is always gonna be a favourite!

    Great story, Ruby!

    • Ruby says:

      Thanks, Lars. In my world – BDSM is about contrasts. Inflicting pain vs giving pleasure, walled-off emotions vs open and vulnerable. We are like-minded.

  2. LadySci says:

    I love this, especially the love you show for him in helping him open up and face his pain, walled off so deep inside. My fantasy come true…

  3. Joan says:

    The Beating is a phenomenal piece, mixing the bdsm with the pegging is beautiful. The only thing I’d add for myself is some cross dressed lingerie, nylons & heels!

  4. Anna says:

    Wow, this is a great story! I can’t help but wonder where this was set, a dungeon local to you?

    • Ruby says:

      Hi Anna,
      Thank you! This is a fictional story pulled together from 2 different men and 3 different scenes in a private dungeon. But I was thinking of the Lair in Los Angeles when I wrote this.

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