Disclaimer: The acts I depict here were consensual. I trusted the person I did this with, we had negotiated safewords and limits, and I could have stopped what was happening at any time. When there was doubt as to whether I would be capable of that, Pup checked in with me and made sure I didn’t want to stop. The reason I did not was because despite the duress and the tears, I genuinely enjoy this treatment, and these factors are honest contributors to my enjoyment of a scene like this.

I think it started because Pup was jokingly trying to smother me a little with one of his sheets after I’d asked him to play. “No,” I huffed, trying to bat it away, “no, stop that. I mean seriously play." 

Pup set the sheet down. He eased a flat hand under me like a spatula and flipped me over onto my stomach so I was facedown on the sheet. As he tried to wrap me up in the sheet, I started struggling. It was grey, maybe microfiber and very soft to the touch – and the sight of it today makes me shudder a little.

"Stop it!” I whined as I squirmed around. The result was that the sheet wasn’t quite a neat wrap but a series of disjointed drapes over my body. “That’s not…”

Pup gathered my wrists together in front of me under the sheet and started to tie them with rope on the outside. I ended up starting at a grey nub in front of me as he moved down to tie my legs. “This looks stupid.”

“Well, good,” Pup replied and pulled some excess over my head, blocking my face. I could still breathe through it, but I had to be a little deliberate about it. He’d wound the rope back up my body and was carefully securing a loop around my neck, making sure I could still breathe. I squirmed around and groaned. “You all right?” He asked, “still ‘green?’”

“Yeah,” I pouted. “It’s just…I want to look pretty when you tie me up.”

I heard him laughing and gasped a bit when he picked me up off the bed. He set me down on the floor and I felt myself being rolled underneath. Remembering how I’d told him that being ‘put away for later’ was a fantasy of mine, I cursed myself for being so honest. “No!” I whined, “come on.”

“Shh.” I could hear barely-restrained laughter in his voice. “Be good and maybe I’ll take you back out later. I’ve got other things to do.”

I doubled my efforts at trying to get out, wriggling around on his floor. But when I felt his riding crop collide with my ass through the sheet, I stiffened at attention. I realized I probably wasn’t totally under the bed, maybe beside it, which made me weirdly feel a little safer. “I don’t want to hear you,” he said. “I don’t want to hear you moving or whining. Are we clear?”

“But I…” He hit me again and I pouted, curling up on the floor and trying to focus on my breathing. However, after what seemed like entirely too long but was probably a few minutes, I got a little restless. I wasn’t far enough that I felt the need the safeword, and I knew trying to get his attention would probably get me punished, so I waited a bit longer. Suddenly, I felt the riding crop land on my thigh. 

“If you can take a beating and be quiet, I’ll let you out and you can suck my cock as a reward. Otherwise, I’m going to leave you here a bit longer and we’ll try again in a little while.” He gave a tentative tap to the back of my thigh.

“How long is the beating?”

“However long I want it to be,” he replied.

I groaned. “That’s so unfair,” I struggled, trying to roll over onto my back. “Come on, I want to.." 

Pup pushed some of the material that had gotten shaken loose aside with the tip of the crop, exposing one of my breasts. I felt him sit down beside me. He grabbed my breast, flicking the nipple with his thumb. "This is what I like, a little disembodied tit to play with where I don’t have to deal with the little whiney brat it’s attached to.” He rubbed the nipple between his fingers and I moaned softly. “I don’t care about what you want right now, is that clear?”

He got up and started to beat me with the crop, but a few hits in I was squirming and whining. “Nope,” he nudged me with his foot. “I’ll try again later and maybe you’ll work extra hard to be quiet and hold still.”

A few minutes later, he tried again. I failed. Again, and I failed. Once more, and I failed. I was getting increasingly frustrated, not to mention embarrassingly aroused by the whole ordeal, and I was starting to slip into subspace. When he tried once more and I failed on what he’d called the final hit, I pressed my forehead to the floor and started crying. After he’d checked in about safe words and made sure I was okay, he snapped back into the scene and sat down on his bed.

“Shut up.” He laid the crop against my sheet-covered cheek, but didn’t hit it. “No crying. I don’t want to hear it.”

I tried hard to keep still, attempted to cry quietly. Every so often a choked sob would come through and Pup would beat me for a minute until I’d managed to quiet myself, which is an incredibly difficult feat in the midst of being hit with a riding crop. “Toys don’t cry,” he’d said at one point. “Shut up.”

Finally, he gave me an out. “If you’re a very good girl,” he said, “and you take ten hits while holding perfectly still and being very quiet, I’ll let you out to suck my cock.” Somehow, after the whole ordeal, I managed to succeed. I was absurdly proud of myself, and when he untied me and took me out of the sheet, I made such an eager beeline for his cock that I shocked myself.

Usually, I would have ragged on him and been a brat, insisting that he didn’t deserve a blowjob after what he’d done to me. But, I was really deep in subspace, and I found myself giving my all to pleasure him. Pup, perhaps noticing this as well, started laughing. “Aw,” he patted my cheek. “Look at you. Somebody really doesn’t want to go back into the sheet, does she?” At the mention of it, I doubled my efforts.

When he pulled me off of him, I was so convinced he was going to ‘put me away’ again that I whined and tried to get his cock back in my mouth. A little surprised, Pup pulled me into his chest. “Shh, somebody’s pretty gone, isn’t she?” He stroked my hair, “come on, let’s get you back down.”

“No, I just…” I realized he was making the right choice to end the scene, but the totally subspaced part of my brain wanted him to push me deeper. It was the first time I’d felt genuinely submissive to him, not just for the sake of a scene, and he made the right choice deciding to give me some aftercare before things got weird or too intense.

“Nope, you’re too deep.” He gave me some water and kissed my forehead. “Come on, let’s get you out of this.” I conceded and sat in his lap, running my finger over the rope marks that were still on my skin despite the sheet blocking them. 

When he tried to tuck me in, he picked up the sheet and I recoiled from him. Later, we’d both have a pretty good laugh about that (to this day if he tries to wrap me up in it or put it on the bed when we sleep I bat it away), but he quickly covered me up with another blanket and reassured me that we were done with that for today. 

I fell asleep curled against him, still a little subspaced but in a comfortable enough headspace that I could sleep. He wouldn’t bring me that deep again until mid-December, but that’s a story for another day.