WARNING: THIS POST MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR ALL VIEWERS. (Especially if you have any pre-conceived ideas of my sweetness/innocence that have not already been shattered by previous posts!)
Thanks to Rarasaur for this idea.
Schadenfreude is pleasure derived from the misfortune of others.
“Don’t reach for the halo too soon. You have plenty of time to enjoy yourself, even a little maliciously sometimes, before you settle down to being a saint.” – Ellis Peters, Monk’s Hood
I bid him enter from accross the room and slowly approach him as he stands in the doorway. I watch him closely as he watches me, devouring me with his eyes. Clad in black leather and wearing five inch heels I am the same height as him, this blond Adonis whom I want to possess. I get very close without touching him, so close I can smell the cigarette he smoked on the way, mingling with the minty gum on his breath. I lean in closer yet, I know he thinks I’m going to kiss him, instead I whisper softly in his ear, “I’m going to enjoy this”.
I order him to the center of the room where I make him stand, arms stretched out at his sides, parallel to the ground, palms up in supplication. I make him stand this way for hours, taking great pleasure in his discomfort as I slowly and methodically work my way around him, alternately caressing and lightly hitting every square inch of him with the leather whip I hold in my hand, not allowing him to move except on my command.
I make him strip off his clothing, slowly, item by item over the course of the evening. The way his arms tremor from the effort of holding them up delights me. As he bares himself for me I ply the whip with enough force to reden his skin and occasionally allow myself the pleasure of his gasp as I wield the whip hard enough to create an angry looking welt.
I revel in the power I hold over him. I know he enjoys being dominated, that the pain brings him pleasure, but with this experience I discover that in giving him pain the pleasure is all mine.