Breaking Him

He sits on the edge of the bed, and I begin to strip.

Standing here, naked, I put the blindfold on, standing in the spot I always do, waiting. I hear him move and walk out. I stand here waiting. He sometimes leaves to build up the tension. However, what seems like over an hour later, he still isn’t back.

I remove the blindfold and get dressed and go to find him.  I walk into our bedroom; he is here, sitting on the bed.  Maybe, I should switch, and become his Domme. The last time I used the whip, it drove him wild. Maybe that is the key to bringing him back. 

He never agreed to me whipping him, he quickly took control when I had before.

I grab his hand, trying to prise him off the bed. He stays, unmoving, his eyes looking at me. Every time I look at them, it breaks my heart a bit more.

“Trust me, Jackson, as I trust you”. I pull him again; this time he stands up and walks with me. I guide him back to the playroom.

Tears build in my eyes as I begin to undress him. When he is fully naked, I hook his hands above his head and watch as I say goodbye to his eyes, as I put the blindfold over them.

He stands here, unmoved, silent, almost like a statue that I have to try to break and bring back to life.  I feel out of my depth. I’ve no idea what to do. With Roxy it was different. With Jackson, though, something doesn’t feel right. 

I have to try though. I grab the flogger, my hand trailing it around his body, the flogger teasing him, running over his body.  It feels bizarre like I am offbeat with my movements, inexperienced, and I feel useless, truly useless because, although I did this with Roxy, I am struggling to do it to him.

I am glad he can’t see me, as the tears fall while I try to break him in any way possible to bring him back. My hand continues to stroke his body, my lips finding his neck. As I kiss lightly, my lips trail along his body, planting kisses as I move down, my tongue gently licking the head of his shaft, before I move back up again.

Standing up, I swing the flogger hard across his ass. I wait, expecting him to react, to pull at the restraints, and tell me to stop. Anything.

He doesn’t. He stays here, hands above his head. I swing it down harder, and he stays still, with no reaction.  It is as if he thinks he deserves to be punished, to be hurt. I move around, kissing down his body again, my mouth sucking his cock inside, my tongue teasing under it, stroking it gently.

He moans as I feel him begin to stiffen in my mouth, filling it, and making me moan from the sensation.

I snap back, standing in front of him, walking around to the back of him. I swing the flogger down, hitting him harder, my mouth biting his neck, as I moan against it.

My nails dig into his chest as I scratch down, watching as he bleeds. My mouth teases his neck as my hand grabs his cock, slowly stroking it.

Swinging the flogger harder, I don’t stop. I count to five and swing it again, 1…2…3…4…5…swinging the flogger one final time with all my strength. I see his body react and slightly stiffen up. I look around me at the items.

I find a clamp that he often puts on my sex. I slowly tease him with my mouth, sucking the cock inside my mouth teasingly and then back out. Once out, I close the clamp down on his foreskin.

I watch as he jumps, growling at the feel of it. I can tell he is close to breaking. I move around his back, my hands trailing along his body, as I swing the flogger down again.

This time, I turn. Moving, I grab the paddle. It has wires attached. I have no idea how to use it, and I just hope it doesn’t hurt him. Turning it on, I swing it over his ass. He growls loudly, pulling at the restraints before relaxing.

Degradation; humiliation. He had mentioned those as forms of punishment, a way to break a sub. He mentioned how it was the one thing he could not stand, him being humiliated or degraded. What would make him feel humiliated?

I walk out of the room, back to mine, and grab the bag. Walking back in, I open it, and I begin removing the makeup, hoping that he will realise what I am doing before he has all the makeup on. I grab the brush and blusher and walk over to him. I rub the brush into the blusher before applying it to his cheeks. I swing the paddle over his ass again.

My hand strokes the brush against his cheek. He doesn’t react. I hit the paddle across his ass again, tears falling from my eyes. I hate this, I really hate it. I stroke the brush across the other side, making sure he has enough pink on them. 

He doesn’t react. I have a feeling this isn’t going to make a difference. It is almost as if he is letting me do this as a punishment.