7 Erotica Short Stories: Pleasures in Pain, Punishment, and Submission: (7 Story BDSM Anthology, Bare Bottom Spanking, Submissive Training, Domination and Submission, Domestic Discipline)

by Lexie Syrah

  A thick black leather flogger began the night with its dull thud against my inner thigh. There was pain, but not enough to cry out. Another thud came down from above my head and left its aching welts behind. This warm up was making my body quiver with anticipation. My pussy was already dripping its juices on the floor even as I kept my eyes and mind focused on the shining gems above my head. Every strike with the flogger made my skin more sensitive to the next and by the fifth strike on my front, I was crying out in pain.

  The tenth strike with the flogger was directly on my sopping pussy, and my back arched as I screamed in agony. After this last strike, it was put away in favor of the more intense bamboo cane. They started with lightning fast strikes over my entire body. I did not cry out because of the stinging pain; rather, it inflamed my pussy’s need for pleasure. I needed something inside of me. The pain that covered my body began to dull as my pleasure grew. I knew that both of these opposing forces were at war inside of me but I tried desperately to keep my mind centered on the starry ceiling as I tried to stay strong as their battle wore at my resolve.

  My bound body strained against the ropes in response to my constant struggle for control, leaving me with burns as the hemp dug into my fair skin. These additions to the pain and pleasure that were flooding my body left me sobbing in confusion. Every nerve in my body was riding a jagged edge as I was pushed ever farther away from the body that was failing me.

  The men slowed down as one after the other hit with a much greater force, leaving crimson railroad tracks all over my body. The canes’ bites grew ever stronger as they began to trade crimson fire for skin as they tore small straight gashes across my body. My resolve to finish the initiation never thinned as I was prepared for the pain, but my mind was beginning to break in the process.

  The canes were set aside, and I was given a brief respite as the ropes were adjusted to turn me towards the gold-flecked white marble floor and away from the hope-giving gem-encrusted ceiling. My legs were spread wide as my backside was made available to the torment. The tears falling from my face were pooling on the gold-flecked marble below me and creating a salty river flowing everywhere and nowhere at once. I craned my neck to see the damage that had already been done to my body. Blood dripped from dozens of cuts across my ever-darkening skin as the welts that covered my entire front were quickly looking more like an abstract painting than the human body it once was.

  The mixture of smells in the air was distinctly masculine as the lust of the gray-robes mixed with the smoke from the burning braziers that lit the room. The scent of my blood compounded the potent aroma as my pussy began to drip even faster, splashing on the floor beneath me.

  A man attached weighted clamps to my already sensitive nipples, stretching them below me and augmenting the stinging pleasure that coursed its way through my veins. My nipples’ unnatural extension stuck in my mind as the men picked up dark leather paddles covered in rivets to continue their torturous abuse of my body. The attacks on my backside were much harder. Every strike felt like they were going to break me, but there was no reprieve as one slap after another came down, leaving my entire backside on fire. My mind reeled from the sound of the paddles cracking against my skin as they left their marks and pain behind.

  My tear-filled eyes closed as I desperately tried to ignore the pain that surrounded me. The sounds were muffled as I began to go deep within myself, running from the torture. I tried to focus on the sound of my blood slowly dripping onto the marble beneath me. The pain began to be a distant thought as I spiraled downward to my core. I held onto this core of my being as my body was destroyed around me. I knew that their punishment would leave my body covered in bruises for days and weeks, but there was nothing I could do about it, and so I hid like a wild animal, curled in the fetal position in my mind.

  The blows slowed and stopped as the men in robes realized that I had fled within myself. The pain was quickly turned into pleasure as they gently stroked my broken flesh with their fingers, giving more energy to the soothing cool pleasure that stemmed from my aching pussy. The pain had overpowered me for so long that I couldn’t have imagined it being overcome by this pleasure. As the hands moved to my hypersensitive pussy and nipples, I could feel the pooling liquid inside my cunt mirror the ever-expanding pool of sexual energy inside of me. That same pool that once given a force would sweep through me with a mind-blowing orgasm, which I couldn’t allow. Even in my almost comatose state, I knew that everything would have been for nothing if I allowed that tidal wave to sweep through me.

  The rising sexual energy forced me to the surface, and my eyes blazed open as the pain of my beaten body came to the forefront of my mine. My entire body was on fire from the abuse and a guttural scream filled the room, drowning out all other noises. One of the grey-robes moved his hands away from my pussy and replaced it with his cock. It gave strength to the tidal wave that pushed from deep within me even as the fires on the surface threatened to burn me alive. My vision blurred as I desperately tried to hold back that dreaded tidal wave. I had been prepared for pain, but this aching desire was what threatened to crush me.

  I desperately tried to maintain some sort of control over my mutilated body. The cock was slowly, but steadily penetrating me as the other men pulled at the nipple clamps and ran their hands over the rest of my body. I was no different from any other addict in this moment. I did not want to orgasm. I did not simply need to orgasm. In my mind, my very existence depended on it. Without the orgasm that would destroy my dreams, I would be unable to survive.

  “Fuck me harder, you piece of shit! Goddamn you!”

  My voice broke the silence that had once again claimed dominion in this hallowed hall. Now that was I back at the surface; they began a slow and steady build-up of pain. One of the gray robes began to pull the nipple clamps, severely stretching my incredibly tender nipples once again. Another began to penetrate my unlubricated ass with a small dildo, sending a burning fire through my abdomen and making me want to vomit.

  They picked up the canes again and began a slow, but ever increasing assault on my back. I wanted so desperately to hide inside of myself again, to let the wave that I so achingly wanted to flow over me put out the fires that covered my body. I couldn’t handle it anymore, and as the rhythm of stinging pain across my back became unbearable, I gave up. My dreams of joining the ranks of the Selenic Circle were over, but at least the pain would stop, and I would finally have the release that I could no longer hold back.

  As I gave in to the sensations, the searing agony surged through the wave of pleasure that I had lost control of and began to mix. My body was an alchemist’s playground as the pain and pleasure combined, creating an emotion that has no words.

  Some have used words such as enlightenment, nirvana, heavenly, and godly to describe this explosion of power that burned and cooled my body. None of these was adequate for the sudden supernova that burned a soothing warm through me. This nameless energy flowed through me, and both calmed and excited me. I was no longer out of control, but I had no desire for control. I welcomed the pain, and the sexual energy flowed through me without any need for release.

  The sensations still encompassed my being, but I was only cognizant of them as someone who has been cold for days experiences the snow. It was there, but it was no longer held my attention. I looked down at the marble again to see the puddle of tears begin to run into the juices that had freely flowed from my pussy throughout the hours of pain and pleasure. They swirled and mixed, but there was no way to tell where one began or ended. The clear and salty fluids were different but were so similar that only someone who knew their origin would be able to differentiate them. Thus, I came to understand pain and pleasure.

  The sharp strikes of the canes stopped, and the nipple clamps were removed as the dildo came out of my ass for the last time. My body was rotated so that my back was towards the floor, and I could once again stare up at the sparkling sky. One by one, the men opened their robes to masturbate above my
bound body. Each one rubbed their cock onto my open wounds smearing the blood over themselves.

  Their eyes were focused on my bleeding and broken body as their hands stroked them to completion, their seed falling on my wounds. Within minutes, my front was completely covered in their masculine fluids. I was slowly lowered to the ground to rest in my puddle of blood, tears, and juices before quickly being picked up and carried away.

  The man carrying my near-lifeless body forced me to drink some kind of liquid before laying me down in a lush four-post bed. As soon as my body touched the bed, I fell into a deep sleep.

  Circle Of Blood

  Pain and Punishment of the Initiate

  Book Seven

  Part 2: A Baptism

  The smoky moonstone steps before me were overgrown in black midnight hellebore, their tendrils weaving between the stones in sharp color contrast. The two naked women before me lightly grasped my hands, careful not to brush against the burns from my bondage. They slowly descended the stairs, leading me down into what seemed to be a ruined temple that lay before me. The moon was bright, and I could see a pool filled with water that almost looked black in the low light at the center of the temple.

  I followed the young women to the pool as they seductively walked down the steps into it. My first step surprised me as the liquid was not water, but something thicker. In the moonlit temple, I couldn’t make out what kind of fluid filled the pool, but I continued to go deeper, trusting the nymph-like women to lead me to a safe destination.

  As I waded to the center of the pool, the women began to rub my broken body with the viscous liquid. Their hands were like morphine as their touch numbed the bruised and broken skin. Their fingers traced the crisscrossing lines that covered my body, soothing them one by one and sending euphoric electricity through me and giving my exhausted body a surge of energy. My eyes closed as I succumbed to their care.

  The muscles that had been clenched for hours were finally able to relax. I sunk to kneel, enjoying the warmth of the pool as it flooded over my aching body.

  I felt luscious lips brush against mine before going to my neck, tenderly kissing me as though I was an innocent girl. The hands that explored my body continued their work below the surface. My body began to react to their sensual touches, and I could feel my pussy begin to swell. The lips moved gently, softly covering me in their embrace.

  One of the women lightly grasped my auburn hair and slowly pushed my head into the pool, completely submerging me. Her hands held me down, and I began to get worried as the seconds ticked by. I began to struggle as the air in my lungs was quickly expended, but the woman brought me back to the surface. I gasped for breath, and the liquid ran down my lips into my mouth, coating my tongue. A metallic taste overwhelmed me as the moon glinted off the crimson pool, and I realized that it was a pool of blood.

  I looked at the woman next to me and saw the moonlight illuminate her face fully. Time slowed as her lips parted and her tongue crept out to lick the blood off her thick red lips, satisfaction filling her face. Her tongue retreated, and I stared at her teeth. Her canines were much longer and sharper than typical, and my mind could only come up with a single term to describe them—fangs…

  I woke as the door swung open. A petite waif in rags was carrying a serving tray through the entryway with a smile on her face. Her rags brought attention to the fact that I would probably not be wearing any clothes for a long time.

  “Well, hello initiate. I was sure that you would be ravenous this morning, so I brought some food and coffee. I hope that you enjoy eggs and sausage.” My empty stomach growled in response.

  “I guess I am hungry,” I said as I gingerly sat up, trying not to open any of the wounds that I was sure covered my body. Strangely, my body didn’t ache nearly as bad as I’d expected, and I worked up the courage to look down to see how badly my body had been broken.

  I expected to be covered in blue and black with bloody track marks. Instead, my body was sore, but not a single wound or bruise tarnished my smooth skin. I ripped the covers off of my body so that I could examine myself more thoroughly and could not find anything that would prove that what I’d experienced at my initiation had actually happened.

  The waif chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, you were initiated last night. You were touched by Selene as all successful initiates are, and your wounds have been healed. I’m sure you’re very sore, but that is only because your muscles are sore from being bound as they were last night. The stiffness will go away today as you’re given your first training.”

  I nodded. The waif must have been initiated already to have knowledge of the breaking ritual. I was still very foggy from the intensity of last night and the dream that followed. The dream must have been related to Selene’s touch, but I was too groggy to understand how exactly it was related.

  The waif put the tray in my lap and sat down in an ornate wooden chair next to the bed that, like everything else in the mansion, was covered in glittering stones and carefully crafted woods. Last night was my first time inside the mansion, and I looked around at my small room, noting the sparse décor. An ebony chest of drawers sat next to the door and atop it rested a simple black taper candle set in a bronze candlestick. For such a garishly adorned mansion, the living quarters seemed almost Spartan.

  “Do you have any questions? I had many questions when I was initiated.”

  Her dark blue eyes seemed to peer through me as she offered guidance.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. What should I do to begin my training?”

  “I’ll lead you to your trainer when you’re done with your breakfast.”

  I quickly tore into the eggs and sausage, savoring the taste. I had spent the last six months preparing myself for my initiation and was ready to begin. I silently thanked Selene for healing my body so that I could immediately begin the path that would lead me to the midnight abyss that dwelled inside us all.

  When I finished my breakfast, I handed the tray back to the waif who set it on the bedside table for some other servant or initiate to pick up once we had left. She solemnly led me down a long hall. My bare feet softly gripped the red runner that ran down the middle of the corridor as I was gently pulled towards my unknown destination and uncertain trials.

  We stopped at an unmarked door, and the waif knocked once and opened the door, motioning for me to enter. As I stepped through the threshold, the waif silently closed the door behind me.

  A man in a suit was standing on the other side of the room staring out the window, ignoring my entrance. The room was empty of typical furniture. No bed, no tables, nor drawers. The walls were lined with paddles and floggers as the rack had been last night. Many of the instruments were familiar, but others were new and instilled a subtle fear within me. There was a simple wooden bench made of unfinished golden pine in the center of the room.

  I stood still for many minutes before walking towards the man. As I approached, his body shrugged in a sigh. Without a word, he continued to stare out the window into the sunlight.

  “Sir, I was told that you would begin my training,” I stated softly, knowing that I should not interrupt his quiet meditation but not knowing what else to do.

  “Yes,” he stated without turning around. “Please get on your hands and knees on the bench. We will start your training with punishment. Your initial training will be in the ways of service and submission. The first lesson will be that of self-control. You are not in control of yourself, as you could not even manage to stay silent until commanded, and perfect service and submission cannot be achieved until you have complete control over the body and mind. We shall start with control over the body.”

  I walked to the bench and got on my hands and knees atop it. The unfinished wood dug into my recently healed skin as I gripped the sides to better steady myself. My head turned towards my trainer, watching his movements as he turned to the wall of torture devices.

  “It took an impressive amount of time to break your b
ody and awaken it for your baptism. Most don’t last that long. As for the training, you will make no sound other than counting my strikes.”

  He picked up a riding crop and moved behind me.

  The first slap of the crop stung my ass, but I managed to hold back the instinctual cry of pain before saying, “One.” The second strike burned like fire as the crop swatted the tip of my nipple, bringing tears to my eyes, but I grunted out a “Two” instead of the shout that desperately begged to fly from my lips.

  The man did not assault my body for many minutes as he stared down at the raised skin on my bare ass in thought. My pussy was dripping, but I was afraid of what he would do next. I had no desire to incur any more punishments from the hardened man who stood above me, and stayed as still as possible, only adjusting my stance to better balance myself.