Now that I've had time to think, I put my finger on precisely why I like K so much. It's because she maintains her connection to me even while being mercurial and matter-of-fact. I've had capricious Tops before, and it can be disastrous. They decide they want to do one thing, something else crosses their minds and the change in direction is too abrupt and everything falls apart. And I've had matter-of-fact Tops who think pretending not to care (or really not caring) is a form of subjugation, when in fact it just sucks.
So during our second playtime, when I was standing naked before K, having just cooked and served her dinner, it was a huge thrill when the thought randomly crossed her mind:
--Oh! In that drawer there, there's a ruler. Get it for me. I feel like smacking your balls.
I hand her the ruler and she immediately wraps her thumb and index finger around the base of my sack, squeezes, and turns my now-aching balls upward. Thwack-thwack-thwack goes the ruler, and I wince each time.
--Look! I can do it as hard or soft as I want and you just have to take it! Isn't that great?
She thwacked me a few more times. Then she looked up at my pained expression.
--I just thwack it, thwack it, thwack it (she hit me each time she said it) and you take it! So awesome!
A genuinely gleeful smile dominated her face, like she was sharing a new discovery with me, as if I were separate from the person who knew all too well the power she had over my body.
--This position stinks. I need a better angle. Put your foot up on that chair.
I complied and she landed a few more hits.
--No, higher. Put it up on the table.
That position just became more awkward, though she got in some good shots.
--I know, I know. Turn around and bend over... No, all the way over. I want your balls fully exposed... Good. Now spread you feet farther apart. Perfect.
She worked the fingers of her left hand tenderly behind and around my swollen sack then clasped them into a firm squeeze.
--Wow your balls are red! I'm getting you good, huh?
--Yes, Miss.
It was as though she could see herself as separate from the Top and thought I could see myself separate from the bottom. She wanted us to be two people sitting in the stands cheering on the scene.
--I'm gonna really go after these balls now, okay?
--Yes, Miss.
I steeled myself.
--Oh but one thing first. You have been good so you should get a reward.
And with that, her tongue pressed firmly against my swollen skin. How delicately she traced it all over the punished places, even swooping up and rimming me for a few moments. Totally unexpected on our second playdate. Totally electric.
My cock sprang immediately to its full length.
--Ah, perfect! A handle!
And with that she grasped my dick firmly and smacked my balls with the ruler. None of the strikes was ever more than I could handle, but the cumulative effect became almost unbearable.
When she'd had her fill, she was kind enough to trail just her fingertips oh so gently along my tender skin, cooing to me softly, barely stirring the pain while providing stimulation beneath. And when that stopped, I instinctively started to stand up. Her response was stern:
--I did not tell you to stand! Get back down!
I bent back over immediately.
--Get all the way on your knees! Face on the floor! Ass up and spread!
The sudden turn in her temperament was thrilling. I was happy to obey. I was hard to obey.
--Wider! Use your hands to spread your ass. No part of you is off-limits to me. Expose yourself!
Again, I complied gratefully. This was the core thing. I wanted to be laid bare before someone, to be vulnerable and accepted at the same time.
And with K, I was starting to feel it was possible.
Then she switched again, back to the wide-eyed girl in the candy store whose hands could reach into any jar, cabinet, or display case.
--I love you in this position.
She knelt next to me and set her hand on my ass. She drummed the skin with her fingers, then traced a fingernail in circles on the small of my back, like water turning in a basin, then drained it along my spread ass, over my asshole and down to my balls, where the fingertip bloomed into a warm hand that cupped me reassuringly.
--You're so wide for me. So open.
She began a path of kisses at my wrist and took it to the tip of my right index finger.
--Lift...
I began to raise my head.
--No. Just the finger.
She helped it rise with her tongue, then slid her mouth over it. Somehow it took a moment for the sensation of heat to register; I knew her mouth was warm, and I knew it would make my finger warm, but there was a strange delay that enlivened the warmth's arrival.
When my finger was good and hot and wet, she took her mouth away.
--Put that finger in your ass.
I complied, sliding it in as far as it could go, knowing she would be disappointed if I tried anything less.
--Good boy. Now go get my phone.
I didn't know if I should stand or crawl, but I reckoned the finger wasn't to come out of my ass. I chose crawling and wasn't corrected. When I returned with the phone, K was sitting at the table writing something.
To keep my head down, ass up, finger in AND reach the phone up to her took some major contortion. She knew it was uncomfortable for me, or at least I think she knew. I mean, if you described the situation to her and said would a person in that position be struggling she'd say yes, but was she aware of it in the moment or was she so caught up in the writing that it wasn't registering? My point being, it would be hotter if she were consciously pushing me.
Forget it. I'm babbling.
So she takes the phone and slides the piece of paper in front of my face. It has this written on it: E, J, Kr, Ka, V, W, D, G, A, L.
--Pick, she says. Pick any 3
I'm scrambling to figure out what the letters stand for in case there's a way to steer myself clear of excess punishment...Electro? Jute? Vaginal...
No idea. So I just pick. E, J, Ka.
--Great! Now get that ass up as high as it will go and spread it really wide for me!
I comply as she hops up and stands behind me.
--Hold perfectly still.
It suddenly dawns on me she's taking my picture in this humiliating position, which sends a burst of heat through my stomach.
--There. Got it.