Thursday night Master and I had an excellent play session. It wasn't terribly fancy - mostly just tying up and spanking - but there were some new twists that I really enjoyed.
First Master had me take off my shirt and underwear, keeping on just my little green punk skirt. Then he bound my arms and legs with thick black rope, winding the rope down my arms and up my calves to keep me from twisting them. He blindfolded me and gave me an incredible spanking, switching between the wooden paddle, his hand, and the riding crop. Master was absolutely merciless, and he definitely pushed my pain tolerance. Then he fingered my bum; I can take two fingers now, though not very far.
After being fingered I realized I needed to pee, and I asked Master if I could go to the bathroom. "You may," he said. "Stand up." I struggled to my feet - still tied and blindfolded - and he slung me over his shoulder and carried me to the toilet. He left so I could pee, and when I was done he came back in. I was having trouble wiping because of how my wrists were tied, and he asked, "Do you need help?"
"Ummm... uh... yes," I admitted in a tiny voice. Master took the tissue from my hand and gently, ever so gently, wiped me clean. Then, just like that, he hoisted me over his shoulder again and carried me back to the bedroom, where he threw me down on the bed.
I think that was the tipping point for me. Needing help going to the bathroom had already made me feel deeply submissive; being bound, blindfolded, and completely disoriented as he tossed me around, depending entirely on his ability to keep me from harm - that sent me flying away into Kitten-land fast. Master lay down on the bed beside me and gave my butt a smack, making me mew. "There's my kitten," he murmured.
He fucked me hard and fast, and something about that night - I'm still not sure what - made me go a little crazy. I was yowling, clawing at the sheets, tearing at my bonds with my teeth. I wanted to rip something apart, to feel the rush that comes with destruction. I think it's called "displaced aggression" - when an animal is harassed by a dominant animal, they direct their frustration at something else (usually someone lower on the pecking order or an inanimate object) because they can't fight back. It was like that, but I wasn't mad at Master or anything. I loved it! I wanted to take all this energy, all this violence that he was pouring into me and direct it somewhere else to show him how fierce of a kitty he can make me.
Afterwards, Master held me as I trembled, stroking my skin and making reassuring noises. I was jumpy; I was on edge. When he touched me, I reflexively nipped at him, biting whatever was closest to my teeth. After this happened a couple times, Master decided he wouldn't have any more of it and grabbed the scruff of my neck, gently but firmly. I coiled, then relaxed under his grip; the energy dissipated, and all I wanted to do was fall into a deep, contented sleep.