Is there such a thing as a perfect stroke of the cane? One that produces not just pain but also creates a sense of immediate euphoria? A stroke that opens doors inside the mind to explore new sensations and feelings rather than just the pathos of wondering why you’re here being hit with a stick? It would have to be delivered after a long and slow warm up of the highest possible standard. The timing, placement and force would need to be flawless. Allowances would need to be made for the recipient’s unique pain threshold. Also the pause since the previous stroke would require immaculate timing. Is it possible? Any Mistress capable of delivering a stroke like this would have to be amazing, wouldn’t she? Mistress Madox has just delivered ten such strokes consecutively and shows no signs of stopping soon. Every single stroke is just on my threshold.

Earlier I am on my knees as Mistress Madox puts a collar on me. Today I will be caned. I admit to being very nervous as she takes me over to her whipping bench. I have had quite a few bad experiences with other mistresses. Mistress assures me this will be different. This will be special. Mistress doesn’t lie.

Imagine yourself imprisoned on a raft of towels, afloat in a sea of pain. Just you and the Tigress that is Mistress Madox. She controls the waves in this sea. It’s your dream too? Never mind. The waves are all coherent and harmonic. She makes them so.  She could consume you anytime but chooses not to. Escape is never possible. For some reason I don’t want to escape. Neither would you. This is her domain. I feel privileged just to be here. Comfortable almost. I’d like to adapt to the conditions around me but see no way of doing so. Instead I just sweat, awaiting the storm that is coming. All control relinquished. The life of pain induced euphoria begins.

Mistress Madox begins a ritual of laying various implements on the floor in front of me. Doesn’t every submissive long to be part of an unknown ritual? Fear butterflies occupy my mind. This is an act of my submission to her and not a punishment so no strokes need to be counted. I trust her implicitly or I would not be here. She leaves me to contemplate. Two straps, one short and one long, both made of leather. Two paddles, one with holes, again leather. A very thin, slightly curved cane, placed deliberately to taunt me like a cruel smile. Together they form a face of which Picasso would be proud. A face of imminent pain. Mistress never stops being creative. I wonder which of the five implements on the floor in front of me she will use first when it hits me. Her right hand that is. It stings of course. Mistress is really much stronger than she looks. The warm up has started. She enjoys spanking. She continues with straps, then the paddles and finally a flogger she had been hiding. They all hurt of course, that is the point. Yet it is also invigorating. Then she picks up the cane she has been saving until last and we move up to a new level, one I haven’t experienced before despite being whipped and caned by a lots of different Mistresses over the years. Never so methodical. Never with such purpose. For once it’s a journey and not an ordeal.

The sight of Mistress Madox in thigh boots wielding a cane is worth the inflicted pain which follows. She is a beautiful vision of elegance, poise and power. Amazing authority. Perfect balance. Not pretending to be a Mistress like some. She is a very real Mistress. This sight would be one of the modern wonders of the world, were I in charge of modern wonder selection. Perhaps it is a good thing I’m not in charge of modern wonder selection as finding six equivalent wonders would prove troublesome.

In between strokes, Mistress whispers from her enchanting red lips the secret of why this is different to all my past canings. A simple secret. An obvious but elusive secret. Finding my submission point seems so easy for her, yet so difficult for others. There is joy in her eyes. She could hit me much, much harder than this but knows she doesn’t need to. She is a symbiotic sadist. Traveling beyond to the undiscovered country will never be an option. This is refreshing as in the past I seem to have bounced between psychotic sadists and lethargic sadists, neither of which are true sadists as neither appear never to enjoy their work. Mistress Madox is really enjoying herself. Water is offered and gratefully received. I sweat some more.

Mistress stares deeply into my eyes and asks me to take more. She has the voice, and she’s using it. Surprisingly few mistresses have the voice. The one you have to obey. The one that makes the hairs on your back stand up. The word no isn’t in my vocabulary anymore. She doesn’t need my permission to take me beyond this point. I just want her to do whatever pleases her and tell her so. It is important to me that Mistress is happy.  Mistress wants more. Mistress always wants more. Mistress always gets what she wants. Sometimes pain can be beautiful.

Endorphins and encephalins cascade towards euphoric receptor sites inside my body. A natural high occurs in tandem with the perfectly timed waves of pain. The next stroke sends me crashing to a pain fuelled low. Dynorphins cut in to complete the experience. Pure bliss. A perfect dynamic oscillation of high and low. Meanwhile adrenaline and noradrenaline form a comedy double act, ‘The Fight or Flight brothers’, as I am capable of neither. Strangely I still wouldn’t want to leave if I could and certainly wouldn’t ever fight with Mistress Madox, I really like her and she’d probably win. Bad adrenaline for suggesting such a thing. Being strapped to her whipping bench makes fight or flight an irrelevant joke anyway.  All my senses seem enhanced. The induced feeling of euphoria continues throughout the session and beyond. Haiku’s form.

Mistress Madox smiles.

Bamboo rain makes Blossom float.

Beauty conquers beast.

Her voice penetrates,

Red lips paralyse my mind.

Her eyes hypnotise.

Eventually Mistress is happy, delivering a flawless warm down with a flogger.  Still keeping me at my pain barrier. Less intense but more frequent strokes keep me there. Even now I cannot believe she took me to that point and kept me there so long with just a cane and her cruel smile. I’d also have considered betting she couldn’t ever produce another perfect session again but now I know better.  I suspect you do too, don’t you?

Afterwards I feel rejuvenated. Alive. The euphoria comes and goes for the next few days. The world feels like a better place to live in once more. When it doesn’t I will plan my next visit to Mistress Madox.

‘Symbiotic Sadist’ Testimonial by V slave

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