Black Hankie: You Earned It

My Dearest Lover,

You are amazing, do you know that? I am still in awe of the nasty beating you took from NeighborFemme and me at BSQ earlier this month. And you thought you might not perform well enough to deserve your black hanky. Let me tell you something, I never doubted you.

It was a hot day and we knew it would be hotter inside the play space. Hotter still with two tops giving you undivided attention. I watched from my perch on the bootblack’s chair while you set up our space. I appreciated the way you resourcefully solved a technical problem with the equipment I’d brought. I watched you and loved you and the anticipation inside me built. I imagine your anticipation was at an 11.

Neighbor Femme arrived and we had a quick conversation about how to approach our double team. I told her about the black hanky and her eyebrows went up. “Well, this is a special evening.”

You were very quiet.  I could tell you were gathering yourself, trying to prepare when you couldn’t know what exactly to prepare for.  You knew she was bringing crops and you’d seen all that I put in my bag – you’d set it all out for me.  There was the new flogger I’d bought that day, there were paddles and an impact toy.  There was the DIY toy I’d created just for you – extension cord with the ends cut off, creating two raw wire ends.  That’s the one that had prompted you to give me a dirty look and call me a fucker.  I think maybe that’s my Top’s first name, Fucker.  We’ll go with that.

I asked you if you wanted to start facing toward the post or out.  You opted for out, so I got you buckled into the cuffs I’d bought earlier that day (it was a good shopping day).  I’ll be honest, I was nervous, too. Remember this was only the second time I’d topped someone in public AND it was the first time I’d ever double-topped someone.  I knew Neighbor Femme was up to the task, it was me I was worried about.

There are practical aspects to doubling a bottom that I hadn’t encountered before, like how to coordinate the my flogging with her cropping so that I didn’t hit her and didn’t hit you in an out of bounds place.  We seemed to find our way fairly quickly, wouldn’t you say?

I started you with a warm up, slapping and squeezing you with my hands.  NF made a joke about it, but she didn’t try to dissuade me.  She’s not much for warming up but I know you like it and I like to give it.  I like to get the feel of you in my skin, to see the way you pink up under my attention and to hear your breathing get heavier.

The real fun started when I began using the flogger.  NF quickly joined in with her crops and you quickly became pink-tinged squirmy.  NF has a mean streak, you knew about that from my stories and it’s part of what made you nervous.  She showed you a bit of that when she used her knuckles on your chest.  I know how much that hurts. She became particularly interested in your armpits, and you howled about that.  I cannot say I know how that feels, though from your reaction, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to find out.

Once your armpits and front side were a lovely pink color, tinged with quickly rising purple splashes, it was time to turn you around.  We both checked in with you, wanting to see how you were doing.  You had wet cheeks and tears in your eyes.  You also had fierceness in those gorgeous eyes of yours.  You gave me a stern look when I asked if you were OK, perhaps you were even offended.  Of course you were OK.  I gave you a quick kiss and we continued.

I warmed you up with the flogger, really enjoying the sweeping figure eights I created across your pale skin.  NF came in soon, liberally sprinkling stingy pain over the traces of flogger.  She wanted to play with the flogger, too, so I handed it off to her and looked through the other implements you’d set out.

You got a taste of your heart paddle, a hurtful device made of acrylic that left lovely heart shaped marks on your sweet ass.  NF and I admired the way they showed up against your paleness.  I only gave you a taste because after all the beating you’d already had, too much of that paddle would have taken you right out of the game.

And there was definitely more fun to be had.  Dropping the heart paddle, I grabbed the extension cord.  You glared at me as I cheerfully informed you that it was time to get some tiger stripes. After a couple of strikes, your fears were confirmed:  this was a fucker of a way to get marks.  “Look at those tiger stripes!  Do you feel like a tiger, baby?”

I cackled with sadistic glee.  You glared at me anew.  NF came in close to ask you if you could roar like a tiger.  You gave it your best, though we’d taken a lot out of you already, it came out as more of a whimper.  I had a feeling you were nearing your fill of Fucker and Bitch.  I gave you some more of that extension cord and then used my hands to ‘massage’ it in.  The marks were excellent.  Once I had my hands on you, it was hard to keep them off.  I ‘massaged’ you some more and threw in some slaps and punches.  Mmmmm, I do love your flesh so much.

Was it the punches that did it, finally?  It’s a bit of a blur for me now.  NF bid us adieu and gave you kudos before joining her family for a demo nearby.  I came in close again to see how you were doing, “Do you need more?”

You did not.

I unclipped you and took the cuffs off.  I was so proud of you – I’m still so proud – for taking so much pain in a short period of time.  Your performance was impressive.  You sat down and took a few moments to compose yourself under a sheet.  I cleaned up and put the toys away.  We moved from the open public space to the back room and stretched out on a bed.  You started coming out of your after-scene shell and we talked about the scene.

You’d told me that you wanted to have the final say over whether you’d earned the black hankie or not.  I agreed, even though I was concerned you’d be far more critical than I would.  I agreed because if you didn’t feel you’d earned it, it would be an empty reward.

“So, how do you feel about the black hankie?”

Your eyes were fierce, “I earned that fucker!”

Yes you did, love.  I handed you the hankie that I’d bought months before.  That fierce, triumphant look in your eyes was priceless, beyond measure.  I love the way you proudly display your hankie at every opportunity. I am so grateful for the gift of you, for the way you submit to my sadistic pleasure.  You are a prize, my love.  I know it, Neighbor Femme knows it and anyone watching us that night knows it, too.

You didn’t just earn it that night, but all the times leading up to that when you took everything I dished out and asked for more.  You’ve lived up to it every time since.

Thank you my sweet, fierce, strong, amazing lover.  You wear that black hankie well.

 

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One Response to Black Hankie: You Earned It

  1. While I might not be excited that you used the word whimper to describe the pathetic roar I uttered, it is an accurate description.

    I recall that the thing that did it was the knuckles beating the shit out if my shoulder blades.

    And I did earn it. The integration that I felt was terrifying. Not having my committee at hand to deal with the various tortures I endured was the second scariest thing I’ve ever lived through. The silence in my head was deafening. THAT is why I earned the hankie. I stood there, alone, and took all that you both gave me. I felt so small and vulnerable and weak. I felt ALL those things, and stood there anyway, accepting the gift of your sadism.

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