Living a Consensual Non-Consent Lifestyle (CNC)

Tag: spanking

Maintenance Spanking Continue

In a few days, it will be two months since I asked my Owner for some mandatory spankings. What some call maintenance spankings.

In that time, there have been three other spankings and there will be more coming. They are painful yet they are cathartic. They also remind me of who I am and what I am. The pain reminds me that I am here for His pleasure, not mine and that pain is just another part of my service to my Owner.

The first one ended with my Owner brutally fucking my ass without care for my needs or level of pain. He was really in a “don’t give a fuck” mood when He started to fuck my poor ass. when I recovered, I was a mess of tears, wetness, and a desire to love Him even more.

In each of the following sessions, I was not chained or tied to the post. I was there on my own. No need for bondage.

However, I was looking forward to being savagely raped afterward. From the first time, it was an unbelievable feeling o be used like that after such an experience of being beaten and made to answer questions.

But Master-Sir reminded me, after I was a puddle of emotions, crying and begging for more, that punishment should be punishment, and not be a time for sexual use. Even if it was as rough and painful as it was, it was still me being used for sex. And He would not be doing that again. For now!

However, I was treated to a nice bath and fell asleep with Him holding me and kissing me. Telling me how much He loves having me as His slave.

The one thing that I enjoy about these sessions is that after each swat of the paddle, I am supposed to answer a personal question about my life as His slave. And He has commented that even when I am at my worst; I am crying, screaming from the pain, and trying to remember the number, I can answer the question without delay.

I guess its because I am who I am. i am His slave and I know my reason to exist is to make His life more comfortable, with no worry or concern fo my happiness. Because i am happy when I am serving His needs and desires.

I am His slave. I belong to Him.

I am an Owned slave.

Did It Help?

My last post was about how I asked my Owner to beat some common slave sense into me to get myself back on track. To help get me out of the dumps, stop wondering who I am and what I am doing. The whole orgasm denial thing did something terrible to my head.

After He took the wooden paddle to my ass while asking me questions about who I am and what my purpose is in life, with my ass on fire, he fucked me hard from behind so that I would feel the pain while He enjoyed the pleasure of using me. Yes, that was painful in the most cathartic sort of way. If that makes any sense.

I will say it was challenging trying to fall asleep that night. For one thing, He let His one arm around me and my one boob in His hand, twisting the nipple every time I started to fall asleep. So between the burning on my backside and His pulling my nipples, I didn’t sleep. Making the next day very difficult for me to focus.

I was reminded of the night before every time I sat down.

My owner would also text me throughout the day, asking if I was ok? Of course, this was for his amusement and my humiliation. I forgot to mention, per the rules, I left the house with a butt plug in, So when my Boss went to remove it, He noticed the welts. I had to tell Him what had happened.

The important thing was that I woke up in pain but was so happy to be in that pain. I really enjoyed waking up in His arms, serving Him coffee, and kneeling at His side while taking His morning stream. I was smiling as much as I wanted to cry. Smile from the happiness I found again and cry for the heat and pain on my ass.

There is no concern about my orgasm because, as His slave, I know I don’t deserve what I am not permitted to have. It seems so clear now. Even if I am allowed to have all the ones I want AFTER the man has His, I do not need them.

It’s not an effort to have. It’s not a mental struggle to hold back. I know I will be allowed when and if the man using me allows me to have one. I do not need to fight it or ask for it. I am there for His pleasure alone. Not mine. Thats what matters most.

The orgasm I had later in the day was a mighty one. I enjoyed it more because I knew I deserved it. I had it with His permission.

I know that’s the basis of being His slave, property. It’s like how I felt when we first met and I became His slave. Sowemnehwere along the way, I seemed to forget that and was just working off memory or emotions. Not feelings.

But after the beating,, I know it better and have settled it in my head permanently to remember that I am here for Him and His needs only. I am not there for mine. Mine don’t count. I like that..

I am at peace again. I am smiling and enjoying the comfort of it, and the service I provide seems a little more important and focused. I like how I feel again now.

So Yes, It Helped. Ask me again in 3 or 6 months, and I may have a different answer! Probably not. I can say that I am indeed back in my happy place!

I Wanted to Be Punished

Maybe punished is the wrong word. I felt the need to be hurt. To put me back into the headspace. To remind me who I was and what I was. I needed to be beaten. Maybe that’s what they mean by “maintenance spankings”?

Master-Sir wasn’t sure what I was asking for, but He thought about it and agreed. He liked the idea of me having my ass beat red while tied to the post in the garage.

He was in the kitchen, at the bar, reading the news, when he ordered me to get Him a fresh cup of coffee, then to stand in the corner and show Him my ass. That means I am nose to the wall in the corner, legs spread, and both hands pulling my fat butt cheeks apart. Open to anyone who looked. Even if it was just my Owner, I was exposed.

He kept me there while drinking His coffee, reading, and ignoring me. I was starting to feel emotional. I wanted to cry from being left alone and ignored, but I held out.

Finally, I heard, “Bitch, garage.” I moved quickly to the garage and the tall, well-used wood post we use for beatings and other kinky things. It has rings on top, halfway down, and at the bottom.

As he finds the wrist cuffs and the ropes to tie me with, he has yet to say anything or talk to me. Just order me to move as He needs me to tie my hands above my head and to the top ring in the post.

I see the wooden paddle I requested, knowing I can not move. I start to shake. I know I wanted it; I even told Him what paddle I wanted to be used on me. But now that I see it and know what He will do with it. I wanted to change my mind!

“Bitch slave, you will count each paddle, then answer my question. Understood?” I think I started to cry as I told Him that I understood.

“Stick your ass out so I can hit it better. Then tell me who you are.” The first strike was dead center of my ass. It hurt; I jumped and yelled. . “One, Master-Sir. I am Bitch slave”

“What are you” strike two. Thank You, Master Sir. I am your slave.”

After each question, I felt the pain, but also felt the release of the fears and the struggles that I have been having the last two months or so. I have been having with myself.

His questions, like “Who do you belong to?” What can I do to you or with you? (anything he wants) are His limits (none), what are my limits? (everything without His permission)

He went body part by body part to remind me that everything I am or want to be, is for Him to own, control, use, abuse, and care for. Yes, I know, beating a woman till she is crying to stop doesn’t sound like love, but in my world, that’s exactly what it is.

But I don’t see myself as a woman. Women have freedoms; they can make decisions, and they can love who they want when they want. I’m not that, and I don’t want to be that.

I see myself as a piece of loving property. That step above (or below) a slave. Nothing more. I live for His pleasures only. Thats what I want to be for Him.

Each slap of the paddle was counted out loud then I had to answer His question, or i would suffer another strike. This is what I asked for, and it is what he delivered.

After it was all done, I was an emotional mess. But I was happy as He held me in His arms, wrapped me in a blanket, and let me cry my eyes out. He held me. I kept apologizing for failing Him, and He kept telling me I wasn’t failing Him. But I felt I was, and I needed THIS to bring me back into my proper place physically, emotionally, and mentally.

It worked. After i was able to talk normally, He turned me over and fucked me hard and rough. My ass was already on fire, so it was even more painful. He didn’t care as i screamed from the pain. But that’s what I needed. To know I am not in charge, I have no choices or allowed to make any decisions, that I live for him.

The feeling of Him fucking my already burning ass as He pulled on my hair, pulling my head back, was not pleasurable for me, but I know He enjoyed it because he kept telling me this was for HIS pleasure only. And I verbally agreed with him.

After he had cum and I sucked His cock clean, He wrapped us on the floor in a blanket. Enjoy some cold water and a warm blanket. He let me cry as I shook. I need to let all that anger and energy out. He never said a word while I did that. I was on a pain-filled high that made me remember that I was there because of Him and for Him

That night, I was allowed to sleep in His bed, wrapped in His arms, while hearing Him tell me how much He loves having His slave in His bed.

That, Is True Love!

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