Title: The Perfect Picture



I sit in anticipation in a small waiting room. The lights are low. I hold a glass of wine in one hand, a cigarette in the other. My eyes focus on three very clear and vivid pictures spread out before me. The Mistress is in her office. She has allowed me fifteen minutes to enjoy my wine and smoke a cigarette as well as to choose the picture of my choice. My selection would then become the portrait that was to be re-created upon the unblemished, pale canvas, which in this situation would be the very bare round mounds of my unmarked ass. My senses were heightening as I pondered the photos. Photo one was a fully covered scarlet red ass, that gave the impression that a fiery heat was rising from it. The caption below read: (Hair brush and 4 inch wide leather strap; duration 30 minutes.) Photo two was very similar, except for bruises of a blue green color spread evenly over the burning red buttocks. This caption read: (Hair brush, wooden paddle, leather slapper and leather strap; duration 45 minutes.) Photo three had all the coloring and marks of the first two but layered with beautiful bluish red welts evenly spaced across both cheeks in a way that made them almost 3 dimensional in appearance. Some rising as high as a quarter inch and the width of one's thumb to thin angry ones that served to accent the others. Under this exquisite sight read the caption: (Hair brush, heavy wooden paddle, razor strap and a 3/8" rattan cane; duration 1 hour.)

I wanted to choose the severest but fear and anxiety were mingling in my mind. Fear, that I would not be able to take it and anxiety of what the after effect would be and how many days this would last. There was also the trust issue, even though upon first meeting her, I had felt confident and assured in her presence. This was my first visit to this particular Mistress, although I knew she had many years of experience and her reputation and expertise are well known. Still I pondered as my time to choose was very close. As I put my cigarette out, I heard her office door open and there she stood before me. Dressed in a black, tight leather jump suit, her long dark hair cascaded about her shoulders. She had piercing dark eyes, long slender legs and ample breasts. She was a sight to behold. She asked me if I had decided and at that moment it was as if the vision of her had melted all my fears away. I handed her the severest photo and said, your canvas is ready for this perfect creation. With that she told me to go to the room at the end of the hall, disrobe and lay face down on the bed. She said she would be there in a few minutes to secure me and then begin her artistry in earnest.

The room was large with no windows and low indirect lighting. Tapestries covered the walls. A very large bed stood in the middle of the room with numerous adjustable leather restraints fastened to the parameter about a foot apart, all the way around it. Two fluffy pillows were lying in the middle of the bed. The bed was much higher than normal. I was thinking, to elevate the target of attack for easy access. A rack stood in the corner, draped with numerous instruments of pain. My eyes quickly darted to the ones that were listed on the photo that I had selected. Fear started to well up in me as I saw up close what was going to torture my soon to be naked ass. I quickly and nervously removed all of my clothes and placed myself face down over the pillows in the center of the bed and waited anxiously for the sound of the Mistress to enter.

She glided in, almost in complete silence and proceeded to place leather restraints on my wrists and ankles, then fastening them to other straps coming from the corners. I was now spread eagled on the bed with my ass elevated upon the pillows. She then shortened the connecting straps so as to stretch me very tight. A belt about 8" wide was then placed over my lower back and another over the upper thighs and then fastened to each side of the bed and then tightened so as to make me completely immobile. I was becoming nervous and I could feel beads of perspiration forming along my spine. She must have noticed, for she said with some glee in her voice for me not to be nervous about whether I would be able to take what was to come, for I had no choice, I could not possibly escape or move. The canvas will be painted as agreed, she whispered in my ear as she placed a pillow under my head for me to bury my face in. She then clipped the photo that I had chosen, to the head of the bed and said the re-creation of this beautiful image is about to begin.

To my surprise the first sound I heard was the sound of the cane as she cut the air with several practice strokes. Then with vicious force it landed. It sent a shot of pain deep into my ass like a lightning bolt. Just as I was about to regain my breath. another one struck just below where the first had landed and then another and another until ten had found their mark. My ass was literally on fire and pulsating. I buried my head deep into the pillow to keep from screaming. Unable to move my body even an inch, all I could do was clench the cheeks of my ass to try and disperse the pain. I heard her lay the cane down and she spoke, saying, we have now laid the base of this masterpiece, I will now wait for the full rising of the welts and ridges as you sense the fire ravaging within you. I was numb, sweat was running down my back. She rubbed my back and transferred the sweat to my aching ass. The salt fanned the fires even more. Through the pain I heard her say, now we will mold the ridges and valleys into one solid mass. Now came the hair brush, landing on every welt and covering every square inch of the flaming inferno. The sting mixed with the fire was unbearable and it seemed like forever before I got a breather. She then stood back and said there is still much to do but I will let you get your breath before I continue. As my breathing calmed, I saw her pick up the razor strap and with perfect form, it landed over and over again as if programmed to touch every part of my ass and re-ignite the fire, sending it surging once again throughout the target. I was on fire as I had never ever felt before. If I could have formed a thought, I likely would have been second guessing my decision to have asked for this. But I had no time to form any thoughts other than just tolerating the pain at hand. It seemed like seconds but I am sure it was several minutes before the next instrument of pain made contact. The wooden paddle showed no mercy as it fell with a force as to drive me into the pillows that cushioned my hips creating a bouncing motion. It had a numbing effect but in no way enough to put out the already raging fire. Even the numbing had a sensation, all its own. As she laid the paddle down, she gently caressed my scorched and tortured ass. It felt so heavenly, yet the searing pain was still there. Then as the caressing ceased, very quickly the hair brush was rapidly filling in areas in need of work and just as quickly came the razor strap with tremendous strokes that covered every inch as if mixing the inflamed areas into a molten mass. But this was not the finale. The cane would strike followed by the hair brush followed by the strap and wooden paddle. One and then the other until I did not know what was being used. The fire was raging out of control. It continued on and on seeming like an eternity. Then as fast as it started, the portrait was finished. I lay there relaxing now and as the engulfing fires are cooling ever so slowly, I feel sensations throughout my whole body. I feel ecstasy, I feel erotic and sensual, I feel incredibly alive. My senses are all heightened to their maximum. I hear the sound of a camera shutter and then I feel the Mistress releasing my restraints. Take your time she says as she leaves the room. My hands reach back and I brush my fingers over the bruised, welted and scorched mass of flesh and it feels so beautiful. I just lay there enjoying and remembering every moment that led to this perfect conclusion.

I dress and walk down the hall. Every movement creates delicious sensations and I am hoping they will last for a long time. I thank the Mistress as she hands me a copy of the photo she took upon completion of our masterpiece creation. I look at the photo and say "Now that's a Perfect Picture."

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