Ms Insatiable Amazon of Atlanta - Part Two
"You remember the safe words I told you? Yes? Supahhh! You'll be just fine."
I felt her spank with her hands, the tails of a leather flogger, the thud of them falling like a club on my shoulders, a flat thin strap. I inhaled the smell of leather as she passed the tails over my face. I heard the floggers in the air as she twirled them. The sound was sacred. The bullroarer is the voice of God for Australian aborigines, and drives away evil spirits when spun by Native American tribes and Pacific Islanders. Ms Insatiable swung the tails of the flogger in the air, ad I heard their sacred voice, felt the wind, and was aware that they called down the Goddess.
"I fine, I'm just fine," I kept repeating quietly.
In my childhood I was beaten violently. I have a high tolerance for “corporal punishment.” My physical body endured Ms Insatiable’s spankings, floggings, and strapping. I pulled on the shackles, wanting to feel my bondage. Pleasure of gentle touch alternated with the pain. My desire to be touched lovingly made my knees wobble. I was not afraid, but my body was trembling with desire for more sensation.
Then she put a thin rod in my hand.
“Hold this,” she said pleasantly. I heard the hum of a generator. Insatiable Amazon of Atlanta has reputation for her artistry of electric play. She talked to me as she played her hands on my body at a low intensity. I heard the electricity crackle in my hair when she passed her hands over them. I laughed. I laughed because I heard the crackling, because I was nervous, because her voice calmed me, but I felt uncertain. She gently held my scrotum and increased the intensity.
“How does that feel?”
I couldn’t find the words to describe all that I was thinking and feeling.
“Talk to me,” she commanded.
“It tickles….it’s pulsing….it feels sharp…,” then I gasped when the intensity enfolded my muscle tissue.
“Breath,” she commanded. I imitated her deep breath and remembered that deep breathing would save me.
T.E.N.S. stands for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. Doctors use TENS to stimulate the body to produce a chemical that reduces pain. It is like an antibiotic for the pain that comes from sore muscles, back pain, childbirth, and arthritis. When Ms Insatiable used TENS it made me feel pleasant stimulation and a shock of fear. She used a variety of contacts of various shapes and textures, and adjusted the intensity up and down.
I began to be afraid that I would not be able to bear the shock. I told myself I would rather die than use the safe words. But I knew that I could trust Ms Insatiable. I was safe with her because she knew exactly how much I could take. I was ashamed that the medium intensity drew my gasps and cries. I could not control my body. If only I had more training I would be able to endure more. I wanted to endure so much more.
She turned off the unit and took the rod from my hand. She touched my face with her big hands. She leaned her cheek close to mine. Her hair brushed my shoulder. Her leg pressed my leg, the fabric of the stockings scratched softly. The slight scent of wine on her warm breath intoxicated me. I wept with desire, with joy and gratitude. She showed me the edge and then pulled me back.
"Let it release," she whispered.
She unlocked my arms. And hugged me. I reached to feel her strong arms again. I felt completely safe in her arms. There were no secrets left to hide. By allowing me to experience submission, she loved me as no other human being ever has. I finally experienced that love, that trust, the safe harbor for my desire from one who understood my need to surrender all control.
“Turn around,” she commanded gently pushing my back to the cross.
She reached to attach my cuffs behind my back. I stretched my arms to help.
Again the sacred sound of the leather bullroarer, the scent of the leather and her breath as she played the floggers tails on my face. I thought again about the edge - how I desired to fall over it into the dark. I prayed to the Goddess to help me endure. But at the same time I was praying to the Goddess for the strength to endure, I was praying to Her to take me beyond where I could go. I felt again the fear that I would have to use a safe word. That I would not be able to give enough to the insatiable Goddess.
On the front of my body, the spanking, flogging, and strapping resumed, alternated with gentle loving touch. I pushed out my chest to receive the blows. She leaned her leg, the mesh stockings pressed onto mine, allowing me to fantasize a little of being forced. I proudly spread my legs and stood on my toes to welcome the sting. When the whipping stopped, my ankles and knees were trembling again. She passed the leather tails of the flogger between my legs and pulled them up, lifting me to my toes.
I felt good. I felt strong and worthy. I rolled my head to relax my neck.
“Raise your head. I don’t want to strike your eyes.”
Grateful for an instruction, I obeyed, and thrust my chest out further to receive her whip. Then she placed the rod in my hand again, and the generator hummed. Again I marveled as the electricity danced on my skin. Again I gasped involuntarily when the voltage increased. Again I felt shame that I could not control my physical fear.
But it didn’t matter, because Ms Insatiable did not need to take me further than I could go. Rather, she pulled me back from the edge and let me feel other sensations. She played the floggers and straps on my body, and stimulated the surface of my body with abrasion.
She released my arms, and pulled them in prayer position in front of me. She looped a thin cord around them, and down between my legs as a harness. She pulled me by the harness down the stairs, guiding each of my steps.
She backed me up to the massage table. I crawled up and lay down. I did my best to crawl back. She pulled the blanket under me and dragged me into place and untied the harness. I didn’t hear a generator but something felt like adhesive TENS contacts were place on my body. I didn’t know what she was using on me. Something she placed on my scrotum felt like burrs, like prickles, and sometimes it pulsed. I thought that I could withstand that torture. But it soon reached an intensity that reminded me of the edge. Again, Ms Insatiable drew me back, using her voice to tell me what a good job the things were doing, and by extension that I was submitting well.
Ms Insatiable then massage me as only a professional can do. It was a kundalini massage. She opened charkas and massaged tissue.
“I don’t usually do this, but this time is something completely different.”
After she said that, she entered my ass. My whole physical being sighed into her fingers and I breathed deeply. They reached for my prostrate from the inside of my ass and the outside surface. She simulated until the energy rose to my shoulders and head. There was no orgasm, but the energy was flowing from lower to upper charkas.
I felt her spank with her hands, the tails of a leather flogger, the thud of them falling like a club on my shoulders, a flat thin strap. I inhaled the smell of leather as she passed the tails over my face. I heard the floggers in the air as she twirled them. The sound was sacred. The bullroarer is the voice of God for Australian aborigines, and drives away evil spirits when spun by Native American tribes and Pacific Islanders. Ms Insatiable swung the tails of the flogger in the air, ad I heard their sacred voice, felt the wind, and was aware that they called down the Goddess.
"I fine, I'm just fine," I kept repeating quietly.
In my childhood I was beaten violently. I have a high tolerance for “corporal punishment.” My physical body endured Ms Insatiable’s spankings, floggings, and strapping. I pulled on the shackles, wanting to feel my bondage. Pleasure of gentle touch alternated with the pain. My desire to be touched lovingly made my knees wobble. I was not afraid, but my body was trembling with desire for more sensation.
Then she put a thin rod in my hand.
“Hold this,” she said pleasantly. I heard the hum of a generator. Insatiable Amazon of Atlanta has reputation for her artistry of electric play. She talked to me as she played her hands on my body at a low intensity. I heard the electricity crackle in my hair when she passed her hands over them. I laughed. I laughed because I heard the crackling, because I was nervous, because her voice calmed me, but I felt uncertain. She gently held my scrotum and increased the intensity.
“How does that feel?”
I couldn’t find the words to describe all that I was thinking and feeling.
“Talk to me,” she commanded.
“It tickles….it’s pulsing….it feels sharp…,” then I gasped when the intensity enfolded my muscle tissue.
“Breath,” she commanded. I imitated her deep breath and remembered that deep breathing would save me.
T.E.N.S. stands for Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. Doctors use TENS to stimulate the body to produce a chemical that reduces pain. It is like an antibiotic for the pain that comes from sore muscles, back pain, childbirth, and arthritis. When Ms Insatiable used TENS it made me feel pleasant stimulation and a shock of fear. She used a variety of contacts of various shapes and textures, and adjusted the intensity up and down.
I began to be afraid that I would not be able to bear the shock. I told myself I would rather die than use the safe words. But I knew that I could trust Ms Insatiable. I was safe with her because she knew exactly how much I could take. I was ashamed that the medium intensity drew my gasps and cries. I could not control my body. If only I had more training I would be able to endure more. I wanted to endure so much more.
She turned off the unit and took the rod from my hand. She touched my face with her big hands. She leaned her cheek close to mine. Her hair brushed my shoulder. Her leg pressed my leg, the fabric of the stockings scratched softly. The slight scent of wine on her warm breath intoxicated me. I wept with desire, with joy and gratitude. She showed me the edge and then pulled me back.
"Let it release," she whispered.
She unlocked my arms. And hugged me. I reached to feel her strong arms again. I felt completely safe in her arms. There were no secrets left to hide. By allowing me to experience submission, she loved me as no other human being ever has. I finally experienced that love, that trust, the safe harbor for my desire from one who understood my need to surrender all control.
“Turn around,” she commanded gently pushing my back to the cross.
She reached to attach my cuffs behind my back. I stretched my arms to help.
Again the sacred sound of the leather bullroarer, the scent of the leather and her breath as she played the floggers tails on my face. I thought again about the edge - how I desired to fall over it into the dark. I prayed to the Goddess to help me endure. But at the same time I was praying to the Goddess for the strength to endure, I was praying to Her to take me beyond where I could go. I felt again the fear that I would have to use a safe word. That I would not be able to give enough to the insatiable Goddess.
On the front of my body, the spanking, flogging, and strapping resumed, alternated with gentle loving touch. I pushed out my chest to receive the blows. She leaned her leg, the mesh stockings pressed onto mine, allowing me to fantasize a little of being forced. I proudly spread my legs and stood on my toes to welcome the sting. When the whipping stopped, my ankles and knees were trembling again. She passed the leather tails of the flogger between my legs and pulled them up, lifting me to my toes.
I felt good. I felt strong and worthy. I rolled my head to relax my neck.
“Raise your head. I don’t want to strike your eyes.”
Grateful for an instruction, I obeyed, and thrust my chest out further to receive her whip. Then she placed the rod in my hand again, and the generator hummed. Again I marveled as the electricity danced on my skin. Again I gasped involuntarily when the voltage increased. Again I felt shame that I could not control my physical fear.
But it didn’t matter, because Ms Insatiable did not need to take me further than I could go. Rather, she pulled me back from the edge and let me feel other sensations. She played the floggers and straps on my body, and stimulated the surface of my body with abrasion.
She released my arms, and pulled them in prayer position in front of me. She looped a thin cord around them, and down between my legs as a harness. She pulled me by the harness down the stairs, guiding each of my steps.
She backed me up to the massage table. I crawled up and lay down. I did my best to crawl back. She pulled the blanket under me and dragged me into place and untied the harness. I didn’t hear a generator but something felt like adhesive TENS contacts were place on my body. I didn’t know what she was using on me. Something she placed on my scrotum felt like burrs, like prickles, and sometimes it pulsed. I thought that I could withstand that torture. But it soon reached an intensity that reminded me of the edge. Again, Ms Insatiable drew me back, using her voice to tell me what a good job the things were doing, and by extension that I was submitting well.
Ms Insatiable then massage me as only a professional can do. It was a kundalini massage. She opened charkas and massaged tissue.
“I don’t usually do this, but this time is something completely different.”
After she said that, she entered my ass. My whole physical being sighed into her fingers and I breathed deeply. They reached for my prostrate from the inside of my ass and the outside surface. She simulated until the energy rose to my shoulders and head. There was no orgasm, but the energy was flowing from lower to upper charkas.