Scened All Night

February 8th, 2016

It started in the social area. Friends with a stun baton. She’s negotiating, afraid. Wants to see someone else be hit with it first. He of course, volunteers me. Zapping my leg, making me scream and squirm away, and scream some more. Her face in shock. His eyes light up.

Grab it. He holds it out. Grab it. Tears streaming down my face in an instant. Hand making grabby motions six inches above it. Grab it. Crying harder, more grabby motions. 3. Put your hand around it. 2. Do I need to give it back to him? 1. Grab it. More grabby motions and crying. Counting doesn’t overcome my fear, that’s not wired into me strongly enough. That Voice: Are you going to grab it or should I give it back to him. I look at his eyes, crestfallen. That’ll do it. Should I give it back to him. no… I couple more breaths and I wrap my fingers around it. Keeping my thumb on top, so I don’t get stuck clenching it.

Now, he says, turning to her. You have to push the button. I’m still twitching, and she’s shaking her head. You have to push the button, or I’ll hold it down much longer. I can’t, she says, I don’t hurt people. You got her into this, you have to push it. Do you want me to hold it down, I’ll do it much longer than you. I didn’t mean for it to be her, she looks terrified. Maybe you should ask her if it’s okay. She does, I tell her yes. If you don’t press it, I’ll hold it down for at least three seconds. Okay, she agrees, but she’s still twitching almost as much as me. Do it, come on, press the button.

She does, and I scream, and jerk my hand away, shaking it rapidly. She covers her face, aghast at what she has done. He pulls me against his chest in a tight hug. You okay? Yeah. I squeeze him tight. I shake my hand a bit more. Hey, it’s okay, it really is, I tell her. And now it’s her turn to play with her partner at it.

This gets his energy up and we go get dressed and bring the toybag up from our room.

What are you up for? I asked you to beat the stress out of me. Okay.

He grabs me from kneeling and pulls me over his lap and starts pounding on my upper back. Still chatting with those around us. Drumming with his hands. Punching the persistent knots. Knocking the breath out of me more than once. By the time he’s done, I am more than warmed up. Grinning up at him. Alright, now we’re ready to go.

We head to the dungeon, looking for a good piece of furniture. He sends me to the other one, to find the ladder he likes. I find the wrong one, in the right spot and wait. The right one is being used. I stretch and bounce, and he arrives with his other scene. I set out the floggers while they prepare, then kneel to watch and guard for unwary walkers. They have a good scene together, and I clean up while he escorts her back to her partner.

My Turn.

He starts with the soft pair. Thumps and rhythm, florentine. It feels good, rewarming my back. I bob my head to the music, but its strange in this space. We up to the next set of floggers, heavier. Still trying to bob to the beat, but he seems to be hitting on the up while I nod on the down. I sync up with him, groans of happy when he slams down hard. Florentine is sharper now, leading to louder moans. Floggers pounding me into the ladder.

Next pair, some long rubber ones. Sharp and stingy, have me screaming quickly. Writhing on the ladder. Squirming and dropping with screams of pain. He switches up again, to the thinner ones, he can make good thumps with these, but the florentine is so stingy I am screaming again. And too quickly, my back is bleeding, a small scab pulled off by the tips. He bandaids it and notices my bare ass, neither of us ready to be done.

Grabs up a Malaprop multi-layered stick. Strikes having me screaming and dropping, and standing up again. Double thumper, less stingy, but still pulls screams. Hold onto the ladder, don’t let go. Then he finds the devil pop, and lays about my ass and thighs, leaving its very distinctive marks with every scream. Next he pulls out a paddle, Five. Okay. Tap, tap, tap, tap, SMACK. Screaming and dropping, he motions me back up. Tap, tap, tap, tap, SMACK, scream, SMACK! Scream, tap, tap, SMACK, SMACK! He giggles as he digs for another toy.

Dragon tail! His grin is as wide as my rueful smile, as I face him, and hold on to the ladder. Snapping and screaming and twisting, and dropping. He motions me up every time I fall. My hands tight on the ladder instead of grabbing the places he hits, pulling myself up. Legs coming up protectively instead, and he just snaps them, too. Breasts and thighs and hips, and a few right down the middle. How’s my aim? Very good, Sir. Every snap pulling a scream or a squeal. Alright, turn around. Ass, and shoulders, and back and thighs. Snapping and cracking and screaming and squirming.

And then he is standing by my side, happy and hot. I lean over and kiss him. I love you. I love you, too. I reach for him and kiss him again. Thank you. He smiles, all bouncy and happy, and I clean up our toys.

We head back to the social area, find friends to sit with. He pokes around in his bag showing off some toys. Then comes up with the Irish 8s. Snaps them on my wrists as I smile. Oh, how I’ve missed these. A bit more chatting and he digs around some more. Comes up with the gas mask, shows it off a bit, and then onto my head it goes. Shows how it works. Then grabs some ear plugs, plops them in my ears. Then ties a blindfold around the eyes of the mask. Can you see? Only the lights if I look at the ceiling. He chats, and I can hear his voice clearly, but not the other ones around me, he is the only one right in front of me. Occasionally cutting off my airflow. Tightening the mask when it gaps. I have to keep my head down or the chin gaps when I breathe. So tight on my forehead. Chatting and playing with my air. Waiting til I just start to panic to let me breathe. The cuffs keep me mindful and I don’t reach up to stop him. Occasionally, though, I rub my forehead.

It gets late, and he asks if I’m done. Yes. He pulls off the blindfold, out the earplugs, and off the mask. I rub my forehead and work my jaw back into place. Take the bag back to the room, and bring the keys back with you. I stand and he pulls my dress down for me, and I set off. Halfway back to the room, my dress is back around my waist. Silly shiny thing. I get some compliments from a few in the hall. Thanks, I call back. Drop the bag, grab the keys, I can’t get the cuffs off to put on a robe, so I just throw it over my shoulders and head back, keys and robe edges in my hands in front of me.

I get back to where he was, but he’s gone. I head down to Cookies and Cocoa, but he’s not there, either. So, I head back to wait for him. Realizing he’s outside, in the cold, with the smoke. I wait for a while, listening to the muffled chatter and laughter. I can hear him. Eventually I get bored, and head back down for chocolate. He arrives a bit later, and I get him cocoa, only spilling a bit of water with my cuffed hands. We hang out and chat some, until we’re ready to go.

He grabs me by the hair, dragging me up onto tiptoe, pulling me down the hall beside him. Mouth open, moaning with pleasure. 1. 2. 3. Orgasm. Thank you, sir. He drags me up the stairs, through the halls, down the stairs and through another hall to our room. Groaning and squealing with pleasure and pain at the tightness of his grip as he pulls me along by the hair. Pushing me into the room. I gasp and shake for a moment, before he removes the handcuffs and we head to bed.

Amazing night full of pleasure and pain and love.

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Rope, Rhino Cock, and a Balancing Act

February 13th, 2014

What would you like?

Sideways or face-down?

Or do you want to float?

I can float face-down.

Clothes off to get them out of your way?

Sure.

Stripped down to a black bra, red fishnet stockings and shiny black boots.

He pulls out the hemp that we had learned is really 5mm that day. Two hanks for the hip harness. There is so much going on, noise and light and people, it takes me a bit to focus down into the rope as he ties. We are in a corner though, so it’s not so bad.

Tight around my hips, through the crotch, down to the thighs. The smell of help reaches my nose, my fingers hooked on a carabiner above my head to keep steady. The biner slide in on the backs of my thighs, only a little pinching.

Then he’s up for the chest harness. Wraps above and below the breasts, hooked into the ring. Now the lift line and I’m up, leveled out, tied off. Run fingers through one spot to smooth the skin. He grabs the cloth and supports my head, over my eyes. Darkness and floating. I feel like I’m spinning, but I can’t tell how fast. Arms pulled up to cross behind my back. I float there, sinking in.

A couple light snaps of a dragon tail, but then he’s gone again, taking care of the engineer. And I disappear for a little while. Gone into the ropes and the darkness and the slow spinning.

And he is back with the sting. There’s some dragon tail, but it’s not long before he pulls out the new toy. The rhino cock. Beating my inner thighs while I squeal and twist. He smacks a breast and my hands come down protectively. Back to my thighs, and my hands go away. Another breast hit and they return. So tender in this position. He pinches a nipple and I all but yank his hand away.

What are you doing? Protecting your nipples?

That too.

My chest is starting to hurt from all the twisting and writhing, it feels better to have my arms down. I arch my back to take some more pressure off. But every smack comes with a twist and a howl.

Are you about done?

Soon.

A few more strikes, but then he’s onto something new.

I hear the clink of chain – fear and anticipation run high.

Nipple clamps, first one, and a scream and then the other, more screams.

Okay, but can I come down now?

No.

Please?

Not yet.

I breathe into the pain and arch my back to help my chest. And he adds weight to the clamps, Eliciting whimpers and screams. More weight. He wants to get it all the way to the floor.

He pulls the blindfold off and I can see all the metal bits he’s attached to the clamps – forceps and flesh clips and another set of nipple clamps, all the way down.

He gets up and lets down my legs so I can stand. But oh, we are not done yet. He yanks on the line attached to my nipples, adjusts a few things for stability and then hooks it up to the top of the suspension beam. His eyes light up and he grabs a water bottle, resting it on the clamped nipples.

Then he starts to untie, and it falls off. He replaces it, but it slides off again fairly quickly. This time he returns with the stun gun, which he sets upright on the floor in front of me. A meaningful look and the water bottle is replaced once more.

Don’t drop it.

I stare hard at the water bottle, gauging the levelness of the water. Focusing solely on keeping the water inside from moving. Keep it balanced. He returns to untying, pulling and yanking, but I growl and glare at the water. Keeping it steady while he works.

He gets to the chest harness and I panic a bit. He is only a little careful, but I am more. It does not fall. I am still glaring at it when he comes around and picks up the stun gun. He puts it right above my mound.

It didn’t fall!

You’re right, it didn’t fall.

He moves behind me and yanks me back. I scream and tears fall as the whole line of metal attached to my nipples falls to the ground. Leaning against his chest crying for a moment until he steps back and grabs the still-attached clamps. Oh gods no.

He’s grinning and nodding.

Ready?

No.

1, 2, 3.

Squealing orgasm.

1, 2, 3.

And another, the pain isn’t nearly as bad as the fall a moment ago.

Breathing, happy, hugs and kisses.

Thank you, sir.

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Stun Guns and Happiness

January 24th, 2014

It has been over a week, so I’ll do my best. That is why I should always write asap after a scene, also this.

It started with rope. Can you do a box-tie? Yes. Arms behind the back, wrists tied, wrap the rope around the chest. All nice and tight and comfy. Out came the stun gun. I back away, and he grabbed me by the hair, hauling me back. I whimpered and thrashed, and he pulled out a blindfold. I whimpered and tapped my foot, trying to stay calm in the tight chest ropes. He dragged me out to the center of the room.

Down. I knelt. Not here. He dragged me off to the side of the room. Laying on my back, arms going numb. Tormented me some more with the stun gun. I curled up on my side, arm still numb. Onto my belly. Much better. For him too.

He grabbed more rope and my ankles are tied. The rope comes up around my neck. So, is this hot. I say yes, but he isn’t asking me. Yes, I hear. Is this hot? Yes. Yes. The other riggers in the room have all agreed that it is hot. Does she need a gag? No, she’ll be quiet. He ties it off to my ankles, zaps me a few times to watch me yank on the rope. Counting so I orgasm just before he zaps me. Then leaves me to stew.

I hear him tying the engineer as I sink into my ropes. There is noise all around, but I am tied and secure and free to just be. He checks in a couple times, pouncing with stun gun, to make sure I’m okay. Once he puts the prongs on either heel. You going to choke yourself? Probably not. Zap. Fuck me! The jolt goes all the way through my legs. Apparently, I am. He laughs. A short while later I tell him my knees are giving up. The jolt and yanking made them angry. He lets them down a few minutes later. Much better.

Once he has the engineer trussed up, he pulls out the dragon tail. I can hear the snaps and her screams. I feel him turning to me. It doesn’t take many snaps and I’m on my back again. So deep in space, and he’s hitting not to mark, it is easier not to scream. Back and forth he goes. A few strikes on her a few on me. She does have a gag to scream into. We both think he is hitting the other harder, ah perception.

Done with the tail, he lets her down and drags me over. Laying atop and between us happily we all wrap around each other. A momentary break, it turns out.

He then drags us to the other end of the room. I have clothes to protect me, she shouts at him about rug burn. He’s got the stun gun again. No, not for her, he promised. He starts counting and zapping again. I’m crying and begging, and thank you, sir-ing. Then he decides the stun gun should be three. According to ex-lover, he should be able to train that, right. I’m crying harder now, and I don’t do it the first time he leaves off saying three. Scolding, didn’t I say? No, you didn’t. Yes, I did. No, you didn’t. He does it again, this time I comply, sobbing out the thank you, sir. And again and again. More begging him to stop and writhing away from the stun gun and sobbing and thanking.

Someone is worried about me, maybe the engineer, I’m not sure, too far gone. He tells them I’m happy. Are you happy, he asks to confirm. That’s a complicated question, Sir. You know what to do. Uncomplicate it, Sir. That’s right, Yes or No. Are you happy? Yes. What? Yes, Sir. Why? Because of that fucking smile on your face that I can’t fucking see. Laughter. Then there is snuggling, and untying, and cleaning up.

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Rubber Floggers and a Dragontail

July 18th, 2013

Had a great night last night. There was some passing around of the stun gun because one of the girls wanted it, but didn’t want to do it to herself. Had my shoulders rubbed and some snuggles from a friend. Then was the demo bottom for him and his girl, while my boyfriend took random shots to show them what to do. He, of course, was using the rubber floggers to pound into me. It was the girl’s first time flogging, but she was gaining accuracy by the end. The guy is already pretty accurate, but my small back was a challenge. Then my boyfriend decided to six-count with the rubbers, and I shrunk away, grumbling that he can’t do that when I’m not allowed to scream. He let them go back to practicing until they were both tired out.

There was some chatting and he asked me how my back was. I said it was alright, and he asked if I wanted some more. I said sure, he said he wasn’t going to be nice, and I asked if he had a gag in the tubs. He came back with a Japanese washcloth which he knotted up and a leather strap to hold it in place. I choked a bit and he backed off one knot then strapped me in. I slowed my breathing, bit in and confirmed I could spit it out when I needed to.

Then up on the wall, and out came the rubber floggers again, well, off my arms, really, because he had me holding them from earlier that night (don’t let them fall). He was having a lot of fun with the tips last night. I screamed and swore into the gag, pounding the wall, stomping my feet, spinning in circles to see his grinning face and shining eyes, and dropping to the ground. Always to climb back up and put my face back to the wall. Well, almost always, once, I turned and had him hit my breasts for a few strikes, just to give my back a break. Tears fell, I ran headlong into pain space and there was some growling, and breathing. Sometimes I’d end up on the ground and he’d just keep swinging. I’d try to keep my back to him until I could get up again. Eventually, he told me to stop turning around and I curled up on one foot, the other against my chest, and breathed through the pain, til he tipped me something fierce and I started stomping my feet again.

I choked on the gag a few times, collapsing to my knee and spitting it out to catch my breath. I didn’t have any panic moments this time, only some choking. Crying and breathing on the ground, he asked my if I was done, I said no, and stood up again, and he got out the dragontail.

I turned to face him, eyes wide, hands behind my back. Oh really? I nodded, my back was so tender already. He took about five or six shots at my breasts before he really nailed a nipple and I screamed and turned around again. He was stuck on tips, still. Getting the super sting of just the tip. I screamed and cried, jumped and pounded, collapsed and bounced back up. He found a new favorite, super painful spot – hitting as close to the armpit as you possibly can from the back. Fucking hell, that hurts! A few stray snaps to the ass, the arms, the calves, the thighs and shins, as I spun dropped and danced around to the strikes.

I collapsed to a little sitting ball, and he tapped my forehead and I rolled back flat to the ground. He snapped my thighs a few times, whipping my skirt up higher and higher. I hardly responded. You done? I nodded and grabbed his ankle for physical contact while I lay there, just breathing and floating. He pulled my skirt down a bit and let me relax for a minute or two. When I let go, he picked up the stun gun, and I suddenly felt stabby metal bits in my legs. I writhed and squirmed, pushing it away time after time, until he pinned me a bit more and zapped me a few times while I screamed into the gag. I covered myself back up this time, relaxed for a few minutes until I started choking on the gag again. Somehow, I’d maintained a hold of on of the rubber sets of floggers this whole time, so I sat up cradling them. You alright? Yes. Happy grinning floating the whole rest of the night. Back all beautifully marked and tingly still today.

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Burn It Down (in my mind)

May 9th, 2013

Itchy, twitchy, brain all messy. Linkin Park on the mind. It’s hot and work has been rough this week. Lots of heavy lifting and rearranging of entire sections of the store. I can’t get my brain to settle down to write. I posted a couple poems other people wrote on my other blog. I watched Gone in 60 Seconds with my dinner and fell asleep during the final car chase. Woke myself back up to blog and my brain doesn’t want to cooperate.

So, what am I up to these days? Let’s start there. I have completed my application for grad school in Library and Information Sciences. Just waiting on the last transcript to be processed. I’m still trying to edit my erotica anthology, but my friends’ lives are all super busy, so editing is bogged down. I’m transcribing my journals and printing out blog posts, to work on a long nonfiction piece about poly, D/s and S&M. And I’m looking for a library job and a new apartment, with W/D hookups.

What else? I had a really nice flogging scene with him last night. The space rules kept it from being an all out cathartic screaming breakdown of a scene. But I stood up well, breathed through, found some good space. When I sat down to clean up, I had a nice cry, and a snuggle and grin from him. My back is all pretty and tender today. Had some trouble when he went after my breasts, I couldn’t keep my hands behind my back, they were so tender. I was either grabbing at his hands or trying to cover my mouth. He brought me to tears just pinching down solidly on a nipple for a half a minute or so.

Having personal space issues. Don’t want to be touched unless I want to be touched, if that makes sense. I don’t usually have personal space, but with some people I do. People I don’t like, people who creep me out, people I don’t know, or people I’m having a problem with. It’s my body, I don’t have to let you touch it just because you want to. Ask.

Still haven’t decided about COPE. It seems an odd thing to be considering without a partner going. Why not just save the money for something else? I probably will, but I do have friends going, and the classes are fun, usually. I don’t even know who’s going to be presenting this fall. Wonder if they’ll announce any before ticket sales. Probably some of the names, I imagine. In a weird place in life. So much changing.

Busy month ahead. Hanging with friends this weekend for geekery and birthday party. Next weekend is FFF with a class on Rape Play, then an Izzard themed party. The weekend after that is camping. I haven’t gone camping since high school. Need a sleeping bag, still. And lots of early morning working on the weekdays. Wohooooo…

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Release & Creativity

March 29th, 2012

He flogged me to tears last night. The kind of tears that don’t stop when the floggers do. He pushed me hard and fast. Against the wall, into the wall, and through to release. My arms hurt from holding my palms to the brick, my back stung from his strikes. I fought the urge to fall – he would stop. I fought the urge to give in – I wasn’t there yet. I took strength from the wall against my palms, my chest, my forehead. Cool and solid. I screamed, I groaned, I swore and then I cried. He pulled me off the wall and squeezed me tight. Not quite done, he tossed me into toy’s lap to finish. So much better afterward. I giggled as a silly song came on, and sat back up. A chunk of pent up stress removed from my body by his floggers. So grateful.

I’m going to a house party this weekend. It feels like it’s been ages since I last did that. This will be different though. Going alone, not going to play with anyone. Though I might wear my straightjacket for a while. I thought I might figure out someone to play with, or at least someone to tie me up and let me go. But I think that if I still want that, the straightjacket will suffice. Last night really did help quite a bit.

The reason I’m actually going to the party instead of the club is MDQ. It’s the dungeon for the next issue of Modern Dungeon Quarterly. I’ll be interviewing the owner, and taking lots of pictures beforehand. Then getting to see first hand how much folks enjoy the dungeon. Might even take a few quotes from the guests. I can see it now, voice recorder in the crook of one restrained elbow, business cards in the other. You might have to tune in over at MDQ next week to find out how that goes.

Publishing the magazine has really got me motivated to write and publish more. I’m thinking of making up little ebooks of erotica. Using the stories I’ve posted here (what’s Your favorite?), as well as creating new ones for each ebook. Themed and all. After all, an erotic blogger from the UK has fast become the most wanted author here in the Midwest and got picked up by Random House. If only I were that good at social networking. 😉 Anyone have tips?

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Santa Claus is Coming to Town

December 22nd, 2011

A silly little story for the holidays.

“Come here, young lady, sit on Santa’s lap.”

He didn’t look like any Santa she had ever seen before. Sure he was dressed in a fur-lined red hat, and black fur-lined boots, but that’s where the similarities stopped. He had on tight red leather pants and an unbuttoned red leather vest. And his short trimmed beard was far from white. Oh, his eyes twinkled with merriment, but his stomach certainly did not resemble jelly.

She walked forward slowly, chewing on her lower lip, eyes darting from the floor up to him and back down again. What was he playing at? She sat down on his knee, tugging belatedly on the hem of her very short red silk dress.

“There now, have you been a good little girl this year?”

“I…” She looked into his eyes, crinkling with laughter and made a decision. “I’ve been good at it.”

“Oh-ho-ho. Have you, now?”

“Yes.” She sat up straighter.

“Good at what, precisely, little girl?”

“At being naughty, Santa. Isn’t that why you’re here?” She grinned at him as he laughed again.

“Yes, yes it is. You’re right at the top of the naughty list, and I thought a personal visit might be in order.”

“I’m flattered. The top of the list, you say? Very flattered.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed herself against his chest.

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” He snaked one hand up her back and settled it on her neck. “But I haven’t come for a demonstration.” He spun her around and over the knee she had been sitting on, and lifted her skirt. “I didn’t think coal would quite get the message across this year.”

She squirmed and spluttered, but he held her fast with his left hand as his right lifted the back of her dress and then pulled down her black silk panties. The first smack sent shivers through her body and she yelped. He did not pause, but when straight to his work, spanking her harder and harder, til her yelps turned to moans and her moans turned to tears. She writhed in his lap, not daring to put her hands behind her, crying as her ass turned as red as his clothing.

“Oh, and I must not forget your present.” He paused and reached into the sack beside him, pulling out a wooden paddle. Engraved on one side was the word Naughty and on the other, Nice. “Just so you remember.”

He flipped the paddle so that Nice was facing her already bruise bottom and brought it down hard. She screamed and flailed, but he held her tightly and brought it down again, in exactly the same spot. Over and over, creating a purple outline of Nice in the reddened flesh. She slumped in his lap, sobbing but accepting as he took a couple more shots, just to make sure it would last. Then he let her slide to the floor, and kneel with her eyes on his boots.

After a few minutes, she collected herself and looked up at him. “Thank you, Santa.”

“You’re welcome, young lady. Now, which list will you be on next year?”

“With that paddle, Santa, I think I’ll try and make the top of Both lists.”

He laughed and scooped her up into a hug and a deep kiss.

Merry Christmas, Happy Yule and whatever other holidays you may celebrate, may they be filled with love, laughter and kinkiness.

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I Know What You Did Last Night

September 29th, 2011

Blackness.

She tried to blink, but couldn’t. Coming more fully awake, she realized her head was covered in fabric. Tight. It wasn’t a headache, her head was tightly wrapped. Her ears hurt. Not badly, just a mild ache. Static. There were headphones over the wrappings, playing white noise. She tried to move. Nothing. Taking a breath to stem the rising panic, she realized she was at least free to do that, nothing blocked her nose or mouth. Something at least. She focused on breathing for a few moments.

Sitting.

She sent out her conscious the the rest of her body. She was sitting up, arms bound to the arms of a chair, wrist and elbow. Metal chair and legs bound to the legs, ankle and knee. Her head and waist were secured, as well. Naked. Completely naked. She shivered, though it was not cold.

She still felt groggy. What had happened? Where was she? She remembered the club. Out for a night on the town while her partner was away. Business trip. Back on Sunday. Was it Sunday yet? It had been Friday night. Was it only Saturday? She danced and drank with her girlfriends. They mainly ignored the men trying to pick them up. Ladies night out.

There had been one man. Persistent. Dark. Handsome. He’d caught her eye a few times. Sent her a drink. Oh god. What had been in that drink? Had she gone home with him? She remembered him staring at her while she accepted and tipped back the shot. Hot, hungry eyes. She didn’t remember anything after that.

Cold.

She gasped as a cool breeze passed over her body, mirroring the cold shiver running down her spine. She felt air moving around her, goosebumps covered her arms and legs. Someone was near her. Was it him? What did he want? Why was he doing this?

“Who’s there?” She called into the silence. “What do you want?”

She felt small pads being placed on her body. Two on each breast. Two on each arm. Two on each thigh. Two on each calf. Wires tickled her skin. She tried to turn her head, tried to thrash free, but there was no slack anywhere. Her body started to tingle and she froze. The tingling grew, first in her breasts until she yelped. Then those stayed steady and each limb’s tingling grew, one at a time, until she made a sound of pain, then stopped. Then it all stopped.

Breathe.

She reminded herself to breathe, and the white noise stopped, replaced by a voice.

“Where were you last night?” A computerized voice, loud and harsh.

“At… at the club. Syrens.”

“What did you do there?”
“I danced, and drank with the girls.”

“Then what?”

“I… I don’t know. Someone sent me a shot. I don’t know.”

Pain. All of the pads sprang to life at once. Her muscles clenched and she screamed.

“Who sent you the shot?” The pain stopped.

“I… don’t… a man. Tall, dark, black hair, blue eyes. He was wearing a black suit and a red tie.”

“Did you know him?”

“No.”

“Did you talk to him?”
“No. I don’t know. Not before he sent me the drink.”

“What was the drink?”
“I don’t know.”

“Did you drink it?”

“Yes.”

Pain erupted again. Pulsing this time, making her muscles jerk out of her control, breasts feeling like they were being stabbed.

“You drank something, sent by a stranger, without even knowing what it was?”

“Yes!” She couldn’t help but scream.

The pain surged for a moment and then relented.

“Then what?”

“I…” she gasped for breath, terrified of the answer she had to give. “I don’t know. I woke up here.”

Just her legs this time, higher than before. It felt like they were trying to curl into the chair. She clenched her jaw and growled at the pain.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.” She grunted.

“Maybe more pain will clear away the fog.”

All the pads sprang to life, in a wave of pain, from her calves up her thighs to her breasts and then out her arms. The pain growing and receding up and down her body. She writhed against the bonds, straining her tortured muscles even more. Her feet did not touch the floor, but curled helplessly in the air. Her hands clenched at nothing, just beyond the arms of the chair. She growled and grunted, screamed and whimpered. She had no idea how long it lasted, almost started counting the waves once, but gave up as pain overwhelmed her. Finally, it stopped.

“Now, what did you do after you drank the shot?”

She gasped for breath, drenched in sweat, shaking with leftover energy. Panicked and still without an answer. She wracked her brain, having been incapable of thought while he tormented her. She saw his eyes, remembered tossing back the shot. It burned. Her head swam.

“I sat down. He came over.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I… I must have. I don’t remember. It was Ladies’ Night. I wasn’t supposed to. I must have.”

“Then what?”

“I…” She didn’t want to say she didn’t know, she tried to think, she wondered if he’d know if she was lying. “We danced.” She tried, not sure if it was a lie or not.

Stabbing pain in her breasts, her arms seized. She screamed and it was gone.

“Do not lie to me. What did you do after he came over to talk?”
“I don’t know.” She was shaking and gasping, fear and pain warring for dominance.

The white noise came back in her ears. Her body started tingling. All the way back down to the beginning, all at once, and built slowly up. They did not stop for her screams this time, but kept building until she was thrashing and sobbing as much as her bonds would allow. Then he pulled the pads off, one by one. Starting at the top. Until all were gone. The tension released, only the restraints kept her from sliding to the floor. Tears soaked the fabric around her eyes, her lips moved, but only breath escaped.

 

Darkness. Static. Nothing.

She regained control of herself. Got her breath and heartbeat back to normal. Calm for just a moment. Still nothing. Panic started bubbling up again. She focused inward, no injury or lasting pain. Outward, she felt no movement, no breezes, nothing. Was he gone? What did he want her to say? She couldn’t remember what had happened. What if that wasn’t good enough? Was he mad she didn’t remember him? Why was he doing this? Her mind spun in useless circles. She had only the vaguest impression of him coming towards her after the drink and then nothing.

“Let’s start again. What time did you go to the club last night?”

“9 o’clock.” Grateful to have a question she could answer.

“Who did you go with?”

“Erika, Sarah, and Heather.”

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Two glasses of cider, a cosmo, and that shot.” She shivered a little, hoping she hadn’t had more after the shot, but not knowing.

“When did you leave?”

“I…” Panic. “I don’t know.”

“Who did you leave with?”

“I don’t know.”

Shocking pain ran down her left thigh.

“Not good enough.”

“I don’t. I had the shot. He came towards me. And I don’t know.”

Her right thigh this time, a straight rod delivering high voltage directly to her skin. She squealed.

“Tell me what happened after the shot.”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.”

She cringed against the chair as the rod delivered shocks across her breasts, right over the nipples, crying out and trying to wrench free.

“You do remember.”

“No, I don’t, I can’t.”

The electricity crackled from her left hand, up her arm, across her collar bone and back down to her right hand. She screamed, then gasped for breath.

“Tell me.”

She bit her lip. “I…” What could she say?

The rod ran down her chest, over the left nipple, down to her clit and back up again, right nipple not spared. She swore vehemently, but he only did it again, in the opposite direction.

“Such language. Now, tell me what happened.”

“I looked over at him, lifted the shot in a salute, drank it down. It burned my throat, and hit hard. I sat down on my stool and looked back at him. He had gotten up, and was walking towards me.”

“And then?”

“I don’t know!”

He ran the electricity over her arms, chest and legs in big zigzagging motions. She screamed in protest, trying to thrash, or move, or jerk, or anything but sit there perfectly still, except for her hands and feet clenching and curling in the air.

“You do know, you just won’t tell me. This would all end, if you would just tell me what happened next. Don’t you want me to stop?” He zapped her clit.

“Yes, please. I do. But I don’t know. I can’t tell you. I don’t remember.”

He answered with more electricity. Fingertips, toes, one by one. Up the side of her calves, the inside of her thighs, circles around her clit and her nipples. Tell me, echoing in her ears with each shock. She squealed and clenched her fists and fought the urge to curse. He zapped her earlobes and the tip of her nose and she forgot herself, spitting curses until he zapped her lips. She snapped her mouth shut and breathed heavily through her nose, curling her lips inward and licking them.

“Are you going to tell me?”
“No.” She gave up on insisting she couldn’t, he didn’t seem to care.

“Then remember, you could have stopped this.”

 

Static. Darkness. Cold.

Constant cold air was blowing on her now. But he had stopped hurting her. Stopped asking questions. She wasn’t even sure if he was there anymore. What now? What else was he going to do to her? Why didn’t he believe her? What else could she say? She wracked her brain, trying to pull up more of last night, but there was nothing. A big black hole in her memory. Why hadn’t her friends saved her? Why had they not been there for her? How had they let her end up here? Did they even know what had happened to her? Had they seen her leave? Had they told anyone she was missing? Was anyone looking for her?

“Are you ready?”
“No.”

“Will you tell me what I want to know?”

“I… no.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“The truth. What happened after you drank the shot?”

“He came towards me. And then I don’t know what happened.”
“Wrong.”

Pinching pain seared through her nipples, causing her to gasp, but this pain didn’t go away, and she started to whimper.

“Tell me the truth.”
“I can’t.”

More pinching around her nipples.

“Two clothespins for every lie. What happened?”

“I don’t know.”
Now there were three on each breast and she was panting and squirming with the pain, tapping her feet in mid-air and clenching her fists.

“Tell me.”
“He came toward me. He must have sat down. We must have talked. We didn’t dance. But I don’t know.”

Two more, above her nipples. Strong and small. She breathed quickly with the pain, whimpering with every exhale.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t, you know I can’t. Please, I don’t know.”

Two more at the top of her breasts.

“You can, I know you can.”

“No, please, why are you doing this?”

Two more just below the collarbone.

“Tell me, now. I just want the truth.”

“I don’t know. That’s the truth.”

Ripping pain as he yanked all the clothespins off at once. She drew a sharp breath and then screamed. Shaking, and shivering against the chair.

“Apparently I’m being too nice.”

Cold liquid splashed over her chest, then arms and legs. It smelled like alcohol. He ran a wet cloth over her exposed skin. She shivered harder, terror rising bile into her throat.

“What, please, what… I don’t know what you want. Please…”

“Only the truth. That’s all I’ve ever asked for.”

Stabbing pain in her left breast, sicking sliding under the skin and another burst of pain. A needle, he’d just slid a needle through her skin.

“Oh god, please. Don’t, please.”

“Then tell me.”

Pain in her right breast, she could only focus on the horrible feel of the needle sliding through her skin.

“Tell me the truth.”

“Please, please, please. I don’t.. I.. please, I…”

Pain lower, right above the nipple, slower, sharper.

“Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“I.. please… don’t, I… please.”

The other breast again, right above the nipple, matching sets of fear and pain.

“Tell me what happened after you drank the shot.”

“I don’t know, I woke up here, I must have passed out. I don’t know.”

“Good girl.”

The needles came out fast and clean. She was crying and shaking as he wiped down her breasts with alcohol. The headphones came off, the wrapping around her head started to unwind. She was dizzy, she didn’t understand. What happened? Light began to assault her eyelids, she cringed away and found she could move her head. The restraints were coming off her arms, then her legs. His body was in front of her lifting her, carrying her, a hood still on her head, but thin. Softness beneath her, a bed. It was darker here and he slid the hood off. Stroking her hair.

“Such a good girl.”

She opened her eyes, startled by her partner’s voice after so long with the computerized one.

“What?”

“Shhhh. You did so very well.” He wrapped her in his arms and she curled up against his chest, sobbing with relief. “Such a good girl.” He repeated.

“Thank you, Sir.” She whispered, as she fell into an exhausted sleep against him.

“You’re welcome, little one.”

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Fourth Monday

July 21st, 2011

Fourth Monday. Finally. Only three months to get here. Such busy, crazy lives we lead. He asks me to bring my straitjacket and blindfold. My turn for isolation. Picnic on Sunday, so some cleaning is already done, but there’s different things need doing. I set to the dishes and the grills, Toy grabs the recycling and trash. Floors are given a once over and the playspace is cleared up a little. Dressed and waiting, he’s got the collar in the truck.

Chat and chicken and dinner. We head downstairs to curl up and flip through the television. Toy heads up to get coffee and he and I discuss my jacket. Doesn’t really work with a skirt, but I’ve got underwear in the bag. Put them on and bring the jacket.

So I strip down to bra and panties – look they match. And he jackets me up, nice and tight. The straps crisscrossing between my legs. Blindfold next, then earplugs. Sound is deadened around me, and then headphones – blocking out most everything else. He puts me down on the couch, laying back on some pillows. I fold my legs, but he soon pulls them straight and shackles my ankles together with something I’ve never worn, hard metal, that seems to crank down.

I settle in, trying to see what I’ve got left. I can hear whispers of sound. His voice raises in question – can I hear him? But it sounds so faint and far away. Is he talking to me? I turn my head towards the noise, but nothing else comes. I feel like I should have answered, but he doesn’t ask again. I can’t hear anything but odd whispers of noise. A creak of the stair, the ceiling, whispers of the tv that only sound like static.

Nothing else is forthcoming, so I relax into the jacket and the blindfold and the quiet. The tv hisses. Annoying. I hear little things, indecipherable, whenever I fully relax. But I can still manage enough. Keeping still, I feel my mind sinking into my body. I feel like I’m in my bones instead of in my skin. I keep thinking about Harry Potter whenever the tv hissing pulls me up. I try to stop, I focus on my breathing, on the heavy sensation in my limbs. I could move if I needed to, but it seems like too much effort to even want to. Little ticks of pain. A prick in my foot, my nose itches, my fingertips of my left hand are pressing uncomfortably. Little movements to relieve the little ticks. Sinking, comfortable. Mind wandering, recording the sensations, knowing I’ll be writing this. I wonder what they’re doing, but no way to know, so I don’t wonder long. I’ve read so much Harry Potter lately, why won’t it stay out of my mind. Breathing, sinking.

I hear more sounds. My breathing picks up. Clanking, like chain in a bucket. What is that? Are they back? I smell hemp. The pillow below my feet moves. It scares me at first, til I realize what it is. The clanking noise stops. I strain to hear where they are, what they are doing. What he is doing.

Music starts playing. I can hear it softly, but clearly. And I relax. I don’t know why, music signals playing, but I relax. It’s a continuous sound, and I focus on it and relax. My breathing slows to normal. He hasn’t come to me yet. I sink back into myself, more easily now.

I think I hear sounds from them. Indistinct. The pillow moves again. My heart jumps, but the music soothes. Then Uncle lands. Ripping me out of myself and back into my skin. And I scream and writhe. More strikes on my thighs. I curl up and he strikes the back of my thighs. I scream and moan. Then he is gone. I curl up whimpering. Then I hear her. Hear strikes at the other end of the couch. When they stop. I whimper and fidget, cowering, and the strikes come again, legs and breasts. Squealing and thrashing, the blindfold starts to slip, he pulls it back down, but it comes up again. The headphones are taken off and a hood forced over my head, squashing my ears. It’s a hood I’ve never worn, the area around the mouth seems to have a leather piece to it. I can breathe easily through it. More strikes with something different and writhing and screams, but this stays in place.

He goes to her again, I listen to the strikes and her squeaks. Straining to hear it stop, cowering whenever it does. More strikes, he lifts my legs to hit the backs of my thighs better and strikes my breasts as well.

Clips come. Along my thighs, left thigh first. I gasp and squeak, sinking into the pain as he steps away. Then returns, my right thigh now, and two above my panties. I rock with the pain, chewing on the leather by my mouth, breathing and moving my legs to take in in and process. More clips around my legs, and then…

A clamp – forcep? – goes on my left nipple and I scream and cry and writhe and shake. He takes it off. It takes me a bit to calm down and listen to them again. He returns and puts one on the right nipple. I scream and groan and moan and twitch my foot, biting hard on the leather, determined not to let this one beat me. He strikes off the clips with a flogger and removes the forcep and I scream and shake. He retrieves them and puts them back on. Having to dig between the cushions under my ass for some of them. As I write this I am not sure I’ve got the clips and clamps in the right order, but I can’t remember clearly.

I was scared of what might come next, gasping hard through my nose, trying to calm down so I could hear. Finally, relaxing enough to uncurl some, to feel the cushion at my feet again, to listen to whimpers from Toy. And then he’s sitting beside me, a blow to my crotch and then his fingers, working away at my clit. Rough and insistent, I arch and groan, pressing back against him. Gasping and moaning, finally I beg, pathetically. Please. Please. The words aren’t even clear to me, but he seems to ask what. Please may I come? He taps my chest twice. I take this as a yes, and let myself go. Orgasming, but he does not stop, pushes harder, and I orgasm twice more before he stops. And leaves me shaking and breathless.

But not for long. He unshackles my ankles, takes off the headphones and hood, and ear plugs. I blink in the light, fidgeting in the sudden brightness and sound. I come up and out again and he sits near my feet and waves me over. Rocking myself up, I turn and cuddle my head against his chest. He kisses the top of my head and asks a few questions. I assumed two meant yes? Yes, especially when he didn’t stop. Then he points out toy, tied up in the corner of the couch and we smile. She looks beautiful.

Do you think you can untie her with you teeth? No. Well, you better try, it’s the only way you’re getting out. You two have to untie each other. I blink up at him and his wide grin. He’s not kidding. So I get up and go kneel in front of her, assessing the situation. I start for a knot at her feet, but she thinks she can get out. I let her squirm for a bit, but she only gets one foot out. So I pull the other knot by her feet and she frees the second foot. Got anything more? She tries, but doesn’t get anywhere. Okay hold still. I’m going to pull the crotch ropes through your waist rope. She squirms a bit and I scold her til she holds still. He’s laughing and enjoying the show. I pull the crotch ropes out of her waist rope, though this seems to cause them to enter other uncomfortable places.

I stand and so does she. Still trying to get her hands free she squirms, but can’t. Okay, I can see a couple more I can undo. Hold still. I pull a couple, but that does nothing to help her hands. She’s turning and fidgeting, so I stand on the rope. He’s laughing his ass off on the floor by now, watching us. Hold Still! I pull a couple more knots out and she can free her hands and get the rope off. He insists I do the blindfold and she squirms and ends up on the floor in a ball. Alright stay there then! I bend over and pull the knot free with my teeth and drop the blindfold on her back.

Up on her knees, she makes quick work of the straitjacket buckles, even without her glasses. I toss it on the couch and sit on the floor with them. She’s trying to finish untying the rope and asks for glasses back. He gives them to us both. She untangles and I coil up the jute. It didn’t taste like much but fibers. He had me clean up. I put everything back in the tub and chest while he got ready for his massage. He came back over to us, sitting on the ottoman with Toy in front of him and me behind him, all happy and glowing.

Then over to the table, back, arms, legs, feet, until our hands were getting tired, turn over. Chest, arms, legs, head and feet. Light touch when we can’t push anymore. Then toy starts to drop, energy gone. I wrap my arm around her and she lays on his chest a few moments and then up. Whispered conversation until she’s just about falling asleep on my shoulder. I lean down to wake him. We need to move to the couch. Clothes changed, tv on, coffee retrieved. We settle in to end our night cuddled up together. Most excellent experience.

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Lessons and Going Home

July 7th, 2011

Been a busy time lately, sorry for not posting last week. Here’s what should have gone up, a silly little post of lessons learned.

Had a good time at practice, and learned a few lessons. Let me share them with you.

 

  1. The correct answer to “Do you think I can hit your nose with this Dragon Tail?” is “Yes, I do, but please don’t.” instead of nodding and standing very still, hoping he’ll just snap it in front of you a few times.
  2. Dragon Tail strikes to the mouth a) hurt like hell, b) are scary, and c) leave the area feeling indented. The first two made me cry instantly, the third was a very odd sensation.
  3. I am not fond of the use of an extra large shoe horn as a paddle.
  4. “For love and service” is a good phrase that I learned from hubby’s girlfriend, to describe why one might still take the shoe horn even if one doesn’t particularly like it. I agree with these reasons, but also tend to take things because the after affects are what I’m really after.
  5. Keep still – Don’t move the target he is aiming at. I (re)learned this rule, and also that I really can do it when properly motivated.
  6. Canes on the top of the feet/toes hurt a helluva lot.
  7. The toe next to my big toe acts as a fulcrum to a cane, and thus gets the most bruised.

 

This past weekend, I went home. Well, to the closest thing I have to “going home.” I went to visit a few friends from High School. One who I still consider one of my best friends, and a couple that I still see/talk to on occasion, and their respective families and friends. Hubby and his girlfriend were going up, too, though they were going elsewhere the first evening.

The couple was hosting a 4th of July picnic. I didn’t know who was going to be there, and spent the drive wondering if maybe some others from school would be. I was also pretty sure I had not spoken to them since I began this journey into kink and poly. I had some Dragon Tail kisses on my thighs and some bruises on my calves. It was warm out, but I decided that the marks were a little too much and wore jeans. Hubby and his girlfriend were just dropping me off, so I wasn’t really worried about questions, but we did discuss that she was just a friend for the weekend in reference to anyone from home.

People didn’t question my jeans, especially as the weather was rather windy and stormy, and no one asked about the random girl in the car. But I felt uncomfortable. I was careful what I said around everyone, but my best friend who was thankfully there, as well. I only made one poly-oriented comment, and no one took it seriously. As I stared into the campfire, later in the evening, I found my shoulders tensing quite badly. I was around a lot of people I didn’t know and I was having to hide who I was. It was good to see my friends, but I did not like putting that mask back on.

That night and the next day were somewhat better. The marks had faded a little more, and I was only going to be around my best friend and her parents, so I could wear shorts while kayaking. Hubby and his girlfriend would be there, too, but though my best friend knows the truth, her parents easily accepted that she was just a friend. Her dad did ask once, possibly due to the high heeled boots in the car, but accepted the story I gave him. The crowd of strangers that were expected to canoe with us got ahead and we never caught them, so that stress stayed away. I was still wearing a mask this day, but it was less strenuous than the night before.

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