***
The man in black advanced on her menacingly, brandishing a red hot poker. The woman desperately tried to pull away, anything to escape the unspeakable agony that was coming. Held firmly by two thugs, she could only beg piteously. “Wait, wait — I can be reasonable!”
“That time is past.”
“I’ll tell you everything!”
An evil smile crossed his face as he held the hellish instrument an inch from her cheek. “Yes, I know you will.”
That, of course, is a scene from “Raiders of the Lost Ark”. I’ve always remembered it with morbid fascination. The woman, pathetic in her helplessness. Terrified, reduced to animal fight or flight instincts. But my enduring memory was the expression on the face of the ruthless man who was about to put her to torture. Sure, he needed information, but he also wanted to do it to her. He relished it. It took me years to understand that I wanted to see that same look on the face of my lover.
I knew I would have to explain it to Michael, and the details of what I envisioned would be a long conversation. But what I had put down as second on my wish list of terrible things was simply, “A Dark Day.”
The scene Michael had engineered with his friends had been intense. Troy’s participation was especially humiliating for me, along with the fact that there were photos and videos being shared among people of Michael’s choosing. It’s a sublime thing, having to act normal around people at a restaurant or gathering of friends, knowing that some of them have seen you being sexual and degraded. Although we are extremely sex positive, I liked playing with the idea that I should be punished for being a slut with Michael’s friends.
Over several nights we discussed how I envisioned my “Dark Day”, and Michael had me write out more details. I imagined a full day where Michael did his absolute worst. No holding back, no going easy on me. Hardcore from the first moment. There were a few specific things I wanted to happen.
First, I didn’t want to know when it was coming. I wanted us to live our normal lives, maybe even have a nice companionable day before. But on the Dark Day I wanted Michael to abruptly shake me awake and literally kick me out of bed. Then when all I want is love and tenderness, he should give me a merciless beating. That was the start, there would be a few other scenes I described and Michael was free to plan the rest. The main thing was I wanted it to be completely authentic. I was curious to see how real it could get, and I wanted only a tiny part of my brain to know I was safe. Michael could be as sadistic as he liked — the more cartoonishly evil, the better. And I wanted him to be as convincing as possible. I needed him to make me truly scared and allow me to access the deepest depths of my submissiveness.
As always, Michael prepared carefully and thoroughly. Not that I knew this at the time, but I sensed it was in the works. As any submissive will tell you, the anticipation is a big part of the fun. Although I’m not sure ‘fun’ is the right word here. I was actually scared. In our discussions Michael and I had uncovered the idea that I wanted to feel at risk both physically and emotionally. I don’t think many kinky people play with emotional sadism. God knows there’s too much of that happening in real life. But the love between us made me feel it was possible to safely explore this area. I trusted Michael absolutely, and I felt there could be rewards for going down this dangerous road.
Physical domination is usually the first thing that comes to mind when we think about sexual submission. But power exchange is another big part, and often the main focus for some people. What greater power could Michael have over me than leveraging my love for him? I imagined him threatening me subtly, implying that he might like me less if I didn’t perform as directed. Or that his eye might wander toward another girl if I wasn’t sufficiently entertaining. The thought made me shiver.
This is not for everyone. I hadn’t been sure it was for me, but we decided our relationship could allow this sort of play. Having agreed on that point, I locked away all feelings of safety and security in a corner of my mind. Now I wanted to experience the growing fear as I waited for my Dark Day.
***
Just like the time I went skydiving, I knew what was going to happen, I knew what to expect and it still scared me senseless. Michael faked me out by choosing a weekday. It was a Friday morning, and I was scheduled to work. So when my butt hit the carpet I was so stunned I forgot about the whole thing and just gaped up at him in confusion.
He barked, “Stand up and bend over the dresser.”
Michael had shoved me out of bed and I was rubbing my ass, still bewildered at what was happening.
“Up! Bend over the dresser! Now!”
It all came back to me. My heart thumped. It was happening today? Now?!
He was not going to be patient. Michael seized me by the hair, hauled me to the dresser and threw me over it. I was suddenly aware that I was naked while Michael was already dressed. I reached up to brush hair from my face, but he was faster and slammed my hands flat on the dresser. Then the belt, which I heard before I felt it. The pain was so sudden and intense my knees buckled.
“Stand up!”
I immediately straightened, and with no respite the belt landed on my ass again with a loud crack. I fell again, knowing I couldn’t take this. I had been conscious for less than a minute and I was already failing. Michael yanked me by the hair, bringing my ear to his mouth.
“Stand up and present that ass. If I have to wait again, I am fucking DONE with you!”
“What???”
“I am going to beat your ass, and if you can’t take it I am walking out that door. So long, goodbye…”
Utterly panicked, I assumed the position and begged. “No! No, I’ll take it! Beat me! Beat me until your arm is tired! Don’t go!” I tried to entice him by arching my back and wiggling my ass. I was shocked by the nuclear level of his threat, and it never occurred to me to disbelieve it. Normally, I want to make Michael proud of me. Now I was in survival mode, desperate just to keep him from abandoning me. I had been asleep less than three minutes before.
“Eyes forward, hands flat,” he said menacingly.
“Yes, sir,” I said, trying to placate him with complete obedience.
The belt. Hard and merciless. Michael wasn’t playing, he was giving me a serious beating. I kept still and cried. I cried hard, from pain, shame and betrayal. But I absolutely could not move or defend myself. I couldn’t risk his abandonment. So the belt crashed into my ass over and over, much faster and harder than any recreational scene. Michael read my thoughts.
“You wanted serious, you got it,” he said beginning and ending the sentence with vicious belt strikes. A few more and then a pause. “Look at me.”
I warily turned my head. Michael glared at me with contempt, the belt raised. “Ask me for more.” Tears still flowing, I tried to focus on his face. He lowered the belt. “Unless you want me to leave?”