Go for gold and be gentle.

You just can't bring yourself to hurt the pretty porcelain skin of the elf girl. Instead, you decide to dominate her the way you want. Strong and soft and sweet, with lots of kissing and grinding and giggling and groping. You take a bossy, some might say bratty tone, and boast, "I'm going to make you cum so hard it hurts, little girl."

Sur blushes and bites her bottom lip as her eyes dart about the room to see which toy you'll decide on. When you close the gap between you and clasp your lips around her instead, she stiffens in response, but yields after a moment. You slide your tongue deep down her throat, maybe a little too deeply as she ends up gagging on it and backing up coughing. You try to recapture the mood, pulling her back and sucking on her neck, but she's suddenly stiff as a board and no longer bending down to let you reach her at her considerably taller height. You pout pettily and whine, "Hey! You said it was my turn to dominate you!"

Surthara looks at you like you are a snotty kid, which if she's as old as most elves, to her you probably are. "Look...I'm not against the softer stuff from time to time, but look at my room." She gestures to a collection of **** toys that would make the Marque de Sade squeamish. "Look at what I'm wearing." She pulls off her tunic dress to reveal her tight fitting leather corset, second skin shiny leather panties, and thigh high boots. "I'm a PAINmancer, for Iscariot's sake! You know what I want. So give it to me."

You suddenly feel like a little kid playing dress up, and not in a good way. Sur is looking for a woman that knows what she wants, which is punishing pain and lots of it. All you have to offer is a bratty bossiness and a hard kiss, and even that is fading fast as you look around the room and getting more and more skittish and squeamish at the thought of injuring her fragile flesh. You mumble mousily, "Sorry...I'm not really used to the whole domination thing. I kinda always imagine myself as the one being dominated."

Sur looks disappointed and a little dismayed, sighing, "Uggggh. You have no idea how hard it is for a tall switch to get topped. It seems like butch or femme or somewhere inbetween, I can't help but attract bottoms. Well just so you know, I'm a pretty merciless Mistress, so if you want me to skip my turn, you are going to pay for it with your ass. And if you have any fantasies about getting deep dicked by a girl, I'll slap that shit out of your head!" You see a different Surthara standing before you, standing firm and fearsome at seven feet and peering down at you over her upturned nose as if you aren't worthy to lick her boots. You never had an urge to lick her boots before now, but you are suddenly driven by a desire to prove your worth to her...or at least have your face rubbed in your own worthlessness.

It seems like Surthara is growing before your very eyes, and it's only when you feel the cold tile kiss your calves that you realize you have instinctively sunk to your knees. You look up pathetically, pleading, "Please...I'm sorry I'm no good at topping. I just figured I could treat you the way I wanted to be treated. I promise you can do whatever you want to me to make it up." As soon as the words tumble trippingly from your mouth, you realize it was a massive misstep.

Surthara's expression changes from one of snug superiority to one of sneering, smoldering sadism. "Did you just try to Golden Rule me? Fine. Then I'll do the same to you." She walks over to the wall and pulls off too leather gloves covered on both ends with small steel spikes. She slides them on with a sick smile, saying, "I am going to do unto you, what I wish you would have done unto me. But don't worry. I'll make sure it hurts me more than it hurts you."

You wonder about the seeming impossibility of her statement, but you soon lose your train of thought as it derails into dread and despair. You know you could put a stop to this with just a word, but you feel trapped by your own fear of rejection. Your guilt at not being able to be the kind of mistress Surthara needed holds you down more surely than any restraints could. You think that maybe if you endure it well enough, Sur will forgive you and you can get back to the sticky sweet stuff. When she barks, "Strip!" you rip your buttons in an attempt to pull off your blouse and she laughs musically yet maliciously. You fear grows as she closes the gap between you to 'help' you remove the rest RIIIIIIIIPing of your skirt and panties like they were made of paper with her gruesome gloves, and leaving you weak kneed and wobbly, wondering what those fearsome fingers could do to your feeble flesh.

You don't have to wonder long as Surthara doesn't hesitate to sink her sharp steel into your sunken skin, massaging and mauling your breasts. Your mouth opens to scream, but you are shocked to hear a "MOAN" escape instead. You look at Surthara wide eyes as she pulls her hands back and you see that your breasts are still pristine and perfect, only to see wounds open on her chest. Before you can ask what she is doing, she starts to really work you over...spanking your ass savagely, running her horrid hands across your legs and cupping your pretty pussy, sending agonizing waves of ecstasy pulsing through your unblemished body, even as her skin grows bloody and bruised.

"Aww...the look on your NNF face is worth the sting. I'm a AAAH painmancer, remember? I can take your NNGH pain and turn it into OOH pleasure. I can take your wounds and give them to AH myself. I can be a Masochistic Mistress and a Sadistic Sub in one fell EEP swoop." Sur shares her secrets as you melt in her hands. She bites your lips brutally and all you can do is moan in her mouth and twirl your tongue around hers. It's the strangest sensation. Nothing hurts, but everything feels like it should. It makes you flinch and yelp instinctively and your adrenaline spikes and your flight or fuck drive kicks in. It makes the pleasure that Sur delivers with her arousing alchemy all the more potent, and before you know it, you are collapsing into her mangling mitts, quivering uncontrollably and cumming harder than you ever have before.

You eyes roll back in your head and you hear a faint voice echoing, "And that was just the foreplay..."

The day burns away in a blistery blur. Your punishing pleasure feels so good it hurts as you are fondled and fingered, bitten and bludgeoned, abused and adored. By the time Sur is spent, she is soaked head to toe in blood and every exquisite inch of her is bruised and covered in ugly welts and open wounds. You hold her in your arms, vainly attemping to offer comfort, only to watch in awe as her body glows all over and her body heals before your eyes and all of the pain she took onto herself is repaid in every overdue orgasm being paid back all at once, with interest from the looks of it. You hold tight as she is hit with seizures of splendor, your bodies wrapped tight around one another long after the spasms slow to a soothing stillness.

You don't know how much time you spend on affectionate aftercare, but it is well into the wee hours before you finally kiss each other good night. As you slip into the salve of slumber, you wonder how you will pay her back for such a intense introduction to painmancing. You suspect you might be going back and forth forever at this rate, each giving the other what they desire for themselves.

You hope so...

All you have to do is remember the Golden Rule...