The Skylar Diaries Part IX

By

Sascha Illyvich

I stood behind her, rather, I kneeled behind her as she dolled herself up in the mirror. First, she applies her makeup to her eyes so carefully as to emphasize her eyes when she stares at me with her beautiful Goddess look.

I watch her move gracefully and learn that someday Iíll be doing this for her.

Next, she applies blush to her eyes, powder to her face, lipstick and such. I stand up, ready to run a brush through her hair but she raises a hand and I sit back down beside her. I lean my head against her thigh and she strokes my hair. Baby powder scent fills my nose as he liberally powders her body. This scent mixed with her personal scent is intoxicating.

She sits atop the stool, switching her weight from one cheek to the other and I smile, knowing I am privy to the gift of looking at her beautiful ass when she Queens me. Even her aroma is pleasant; Iíve grown rather fond of it. Spicy, sweet mixed with her own juices which flow into my mouth, I love to lick and swallow.

Mistress Katrina applies powder to her breasts, just a little though. She says it emphasizes the color just a tad. I always taste the powder when I suckle her beautiful pink nipples. I like to suckle her nipples, the pleasure from her I hear much easier because her thighs donít plug my ears. I love her thighs. Sexy, strong, powerful like the rest of her body, but yet, soft and feminine. I kiss my way upwards towards her cunt, her beautiful cunt when she commands it. I suck in and guzzle eagerly her juice. Damn I love to swallow her juice.

Most times, her back would be marked by my fingernails from our Scenes when she was through spanking me and would fuck me really hard, slamming into me while she bit into my skin. Sometimes she drew blood, and those times were when I clenched my fists and dug into her skin, scratching down her back. She loved that. She loved to be rough in bed just as much as she loved to be soft.

The whip often stung my back but I grew accustomed to being struck in certain places. It didnít take long for me to learn to love the whip, viewing it as an extension of her love. The paddles I detested though! She found the places on my ass to paddle with made me scream.

"I love your screams you little slut!" sheíd say. Iíd try to suppress myself but sheíd only paddle harder. I wouldnít beg until well into being spanked. Sheíd have bruised me, as I discovered my ass the next morning would be black and blue. But she liked that. It amazed me the care she put into taking care of me though, when I bled, she took just as much care into doctoring my wounds as she did in creating them. My baths were painful, but she had been joining me lately, so she could watch as the water ran down my body and I screamed from the new cuts and marks. Sheíd take extra care to wash me down though, "A slave thatís in pain all the time is useless," sheíd say. What good could I be to her if I was constantly hurting?

Mistress Katrina loved when I brushed her beautiful hair out. Of course for the loose strands of hair found in the brush, I was either made to take a dildo or another manís cock in my ass for a period of time She determined, or until he came. Or I was paddled, which I grew numb to since she bruised my ass regularly.

To be honest, I still havenít decided which one I prefer!

Her riding crop was mean just like Mistress Lindsey used to be. But I only got the crop on certain days of the week. There was no real reason for that now, she just "felt" like it.

Some time back, Mistress Katrina found these notes and commented on how proud she was that I kept them. She says Iíve come a long way as a slave and boyfriend. Some trip huh? She says Iíve taken my body and mind to an entirely different plane. I only wish I could have been in the space she had me in recently when we played. The pain was so intense, the pleasure blended with pain and I could no longer tell or care.

With each lash of the crop, and thrust of her strap on in my ass, I fell deeper away from reality as we know it. Itís as if my body was on fire, but it burned cool, I barely recall anything of it. Mistress Katrina told me the blank stare was sometimes referred to as subspace.

Wow. What a place. To feel like my body no longer limits me, but I have the marks to prove that I experienced them.

Mistress Katrina dressed the wounds; I felt the pain the next morning.

She sat me down that morning, looked at me with her piercing stare and told me she loved me. She told me what I said when I went under and asked if she could record us on film the next time so I had physical proof. I told her YES!

She also wants to take recording the events in my life to another level. While sheís asked me not to stop journaling our events, she does want me to cut back to details that are more important. She wants to record things on tape, on video and take me out more in public.

Thatís the plan. For now, Iíll stop writing as often in my journal. I am a little sad because one routine has ended, but itís only momentarily. Time is an eternity, which has no length.

(2001) By Sascha, ssscb@hotmail.com  All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced without written permission from the author.