(Forgive me, Sir, for my blog is late.)
Last Friday I visited my Sir who gave me such wonderful experiences as the night I discovered my love of the Rack, and who dominated me as my Superior Leather Officer. The night began as many fantastic nights do in scenes; kissing, holding, being led down into dark and sinister dungeons where you can only imagine what memorable and fun-filled fate awaits you.
My Sir tied me, bound me, played with me, and made me squirm. He bound me in the jail cell, gagged me, and I thanked him, over and over.
At one part of the evening a flogger was brought out, and I was ordered to brace myself against the puppy cage. The blows started as how I love them the most, slow, sensual, light slaps of leather against my shivering bare skin, slowly working up in intensity until I was moaning and thanking my Sir for each one. As the flogging came to an end he brought me back down from subspace, and I went down on my hands and knees, my forehead on the floor in complete and utter submission. He placed a booted foot in front of me and ordered me to service it, to which I eagerly obeyed without question. I politely and modestly asked if he would flog me again, and he began again, lightly at first and then he increased in intensity. This time it became wild, as I serviced his boots, the flogger struck me again and again, he roared with pleasure, and I thanked him "Thank you Sir! May I have another!?" repeatedly, my chest just bursting with joy.
As the flogging continued I realized just how much intensity I was receiving, not as much as Master has dealt me, but intense nonetheless, and I wanted even more! My body hungered to be beaten, to serve, to submit.
It felt amazingly natural to ache for it.
Eventually the flogging scene subsided, I came back down and relaxed on the dungeon floor.
At the end of the evening, before heading to bed, I presented myself in my black Zentai suit to my Sir. I was thrilled to hear he enjoyed it, and he then vanished into his bedroom. When he emerged, I was greeted with a sight I had seen before in pictures on some fetish profiles, but never in person.
Spiderman was standing before me. He walked up behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me close. Reality was like the sky, the realm of fantasy was the ocean, and my mind dipped and bobbed upon the surface of the waters. It was my Sir in a suit of course, but then was it really Spiderman holding me that night? I sunk below, melted into the embrace, and submerged myself into my newly discovered superhero fetish fantasy.
Being held by a paragon of justice, a figure of masculine imagination made real, and led into a bedroom for an experience that would not be drawn into any comic book panel Stan Lee would dare authorize. I understood the fetish now and I loved it.
Some fetishes you can read and hear about, some you need to see, others must be experienced first hand in order to grasp the idea. I never was a fan of comic book heroes as my interests never lay in that world, but Spiderman can catch me in his web any night he wants to relieve the stress of a crime fighter!
Play safe my dear friends.
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