My Irish goddess.  Flaming red hair.  Beautiful green eyes.  Perfect pale skin.  Skin that shows marks and bruises easily.  She always asked for more, though.  Harder.  New implements of pain.  She got bored with my hands fairly quickly.  I tried a spatula.  Not enough, she said.  Went through bamboo canes, a riding crop, a few different paddles… nothing satisfied her.  She lived for the marks I left on her body.  Though I was afraid to hurt her, her cries of ecstasy mixed with pain always kept me going, kept me hard as a rock.

This time, I pulled out all the stops and included a MagnaStrap and a cat o’ nine tails in our play.  I held back at first, but as she begged for more, I went full force, alternating between the strap and the cat, not stopping until I began to draw blood.  After I got her worked up with a good spanking, it only took the slightest touch to her clit to make her cum - a screaming, writhing orgasm that left her a puddle on the bed.  After she got her senses back, she returned the favor with the most intense blow job I’d ever had, swallowing every bit of me that I expelled.  Looking back over her shoulder at the red stripes I had left, she smiled.  Kissing my tip lightly, she whispered, “Thank you,” rolled over onto her side, avoiding the sore welts on her beautiful back and ass, and fell asleep, finally satiated.