Someone I was with before Master was really into punching me, it wasn't something we talked about at all before hand. He just did it. There was an unexpected violence and brutality to it that in the end turned me on - made me into a puddle of goo. It makes me want to fight back and crawl away, but inside something can't wait for the next time. I can't wait to feel that next punch.
This man did punch me in the face at times. I ended up bruises sometimes - a puffy split lip, a black eye, and bruises on my cheeks. He pretty much just used me as a punching bag. He would not tie me or restrain, but just tell me to stand and take it. If I moved it - of course he would get harder. So I learned to stand and take it.
Master punches me also. We went to a class at an event (Thunder in the Mountains) about punching and kicking. The rest of the weekend was all about punching for Master. I had bruises on my arms because we would be walking down the hall and he would just punch me in the arm. He would grind his knuckles in and make the bruises worse. It would often cause bruised muscle tissue. When he punches my ass or my cunt there is no surface bruise, but damn it hurts.
Master has punched me in the face. He has caused a split lip. It turned me on while he did it even though I wanted to fight to turn away. It turned me on after running my tongue over it. Feeling it and knowing how it was made - the force and brutality.
It feels violent although consensual. The fear that comes with it - all if turned me on. I want to fight and yet there is that piece inside me is like please more because I need it.Thankful that Master enjoys punching me because I do like the brutality of it.