Artist At Work: The Beauty of Beating Male Ass

The fun I had at the Passive Arts dungeon during DomCon LA reminded Me of a fact of life I’d forgotten.
As a Pro Domme, I ‘ve earned high fees to play for pay.
But even if I weren’t paid a penny, there’d be parts of Pro Dommery I’d perform gratis.
In particular, I love punishing male ass.
Nothing pleases Me more than the sight of a male slave, trousers and underpants hugging his ankles, bending over to offer Me his unmarked buttocks.
It evokes My artistic side; his ass is the pristine canvass I’m going to paint with colorful bruises.
Sometimes I’ll start “painting” with My hand, just to bring a girlish blush to his ass cheeks.
But it’s not all about color.
Sound is an essential component, too.
My long leather double slapper echoes off the submissive’s backside with a satisfying “crack,” sending droplets of ass sweat airborne.
But My hand and My slapper can only draw a preliminary sketch.
To create in earnest, delivering the serious corrective discipline that every male-creature deserves, I need other tools.
Sometimes I’ll choose My small cat-o’-nine-tails (perfect for whipping from the rear his hanging ball sack, too).
The “cat” stings like a bee bite; it gets My slave’s attention.
Then I’ll take target practice with My black leather paddle.
I love the thud of My paddle bruising the slave’s bottom.
It’s a multimedia experience, part visual, part audio.
I’m not only painting a canvas now, I’m composing a complex symphony of hurt.
And the slave is collaborating, scoring My composition with a hoarse chorus of syncopated grunts and groans.
That’s My signal to take a measured step backward and fiercely attack his ass with My two-tail whip.
Snap, crackle and pop.
The welts, that is, popping up all over his butt.
If he’s a pain slut, I’ll keep up the whipping until I’m about to draw blood.
That ‘s when I put down My whip and pick up My favorite toy of all.
My carcass beater doesn’t look menacing.
A simple loop of flexible polyethylene, attached to a handle.
But the instrument can deliver a surprisingly wide range of sensations.
If I tap gently, the slave experiences sensual stinging.
If I launch an all-out blitzkrieg against the subby’s bare butt, the carcass beater raises instant welts and C-shaped blue bruises.
Soon I’ve transformed My slave’s ass into a fleshy Rosetta Stone of mottled hieroglyphs.
I step back. Smiling, I admire My work.
I’ve turned a pair of once-blank buttocks into a picture-perfect portrait of pain.