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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Cuffs, Clamps & Ice

February 7th, 2011

Toy and I went shopping, new shiny things for the club. We want to surprise him, make him smile and so we shop with him in mind. Nervous and giggling, we buy new tops. I get a waterproof vibrator, too. A story for another time.

At the club, dressed and lubed, I wear my latex skirt for the first time in months, and my new top, barely holding my breast, with big bell sleeves. He approves. Toy arrives, she looks really great. The corset she picked out fits her well and the skirt we found last week matches nicely. I bring her out and unwrap her for him and his smile widens even further.

He is happy, his girls have dressed to please, and we are successful. She snuggles with him, and I wander about for a bit, but the other rooms are colder.

He motions me over, pulls out the shackles, my heart soars. I have missed those so very much. I step up to him and he locks the around my ankles. I want to thank him, but I haven’t the voice. He pulls out the cuffs – the heavy Irish eights, and puts them on Toy’s wrists. Both of us now bound to him.

Be careful, don’t wrench your wrists.

Latex skirt, feel the shiny. Pats his leg, it should be dry by now. The shirt is problematic, nipples keep popping out. He has a solution.

Go get me a set of nipple clamps.

I rise and go fetch, cloverleaf clamps, my favorite and return to his lap. It’s been a while, he pinches and pulls, slipping them into place. Whimpering, gasping. The pain flowing, warming and arousing. My arm around him, hand resting on the back of his head, I grab his ponytail and force myself to let go.

He starts rubbing on nipple, asking Toy to do the same. She squirms and struggles, but gets her cuffed hands up. My hand slips down to his cheek as I moan and gasp.

He has an idea, picks up the chain and puts it in her mouth. Then, grabbing us each by the hair he pulls us apart. Moaning and gasping and squealing, sensations and energy flowing freely. The angle of my neck is straining. I have momentary flashes of worry for my throat, but I swallow carefully. He releases before it becomes too much. She drops the chain, and I shriek with the pain, but that’s the least of my worry. He scolds her for letting go and hurting me. I open my eyes and look down at here.

Did he tell you that you could let go?

She drops her head. My presence is requested elsewhere, a violet wand lesson is needed. Out I go, shackled and clamped. I reflexively cradle the chain while I teach, distracted from the pain.

Returning, someone else notices my hand on the chain and I am ordered to fetch the dogbones. I grab the big set, clips and safety latches and all. Not wanting to bring to few and disappoint him.

He is gleeful with the amount I bring and I am whimpering with fear. Attaching them to the chain, he asks Toy to hold them for me, keep them up so they don’t hurt me. I catch her eyes, begging her to be kind.

He asks for a pen. I coach her to her feet, it doesn’t hurt as much as we both fear. Shuffling back, her forward, through the feet and down the rooms to the pens. I bring one back, and my water. Sorry, no, he wants a Sharpie. Back we go.

Arms behind your back.

I balance the water cup, easy as it’s mostly ice. Sharpies found, brought back out. He taunts her with one, but nothing gets written.

He tickles and she squirms and I yelp, and she whimpers. Wanting to drop her arms, afraid of hurting me. More tickling, squealing and yelping and leaning and squirming. She drops to her knees. He gets my ice cup and starts putting it down her panties.

If you weren’t wearing any, it would stay.

Toy glares up at me and everyone laughs. I ask for a drink, he lefts the cup but scolds me for moving my hand to meet it. He feeds me the remaining water and then takes it back.

Can you crawl?

We shuffle to the other room, to the toys. He pulls out a flogger, slamming it into my back. He wants better light and spins us around. More flogging, it’s been awhile, the hits fall heavy, stingy. I bend and squeal.

He takes my hands and puts them on top of my head. Good posture now.

He circles, grabs blindfolds for us. I’m coaching her too much, a gag goes in. A forcep attaches her chest to the mess of chains between us. Time to wrap the present. My lower body to her upper, leave the calves free for balance.

A cup of ice is brought, my cup of ice. It is poured down the center, squealing and cold. It flows right past my clothes and catches in hers.

Water mostly drained, a vibrator follows. Buzzing up the chain to tickle my nipples, delicous.

He and the birthday boy circle. Crop and floggers and forceps. Stinging and squealing and shrieking. Pinching and poking. I choke on the gag and he relents, letting me catch my breath. Back at it again. I am drooling around the gag, he teases that I’m drooling all over our her. Toy does not complain. More stinging and screaming and writhing, and I fall into her lap. They catch us and pull me back to my feet.

Ready for round two?

A moment and I nod. She says yes, but the fall hurt her wrists. The cuffs come off her, and go on me, behind my back.

I want you to say something for me, do you know what it is? He asks our Toy.

Yes, count to three.

That’s right. Three times, count to five between them. And on the third, pull down on the clamps.

His hand in my hair, he gets a tight grip, I soar and she counts.

One, two, three.

Arching as pleasure flows through me, the vibrator pressed just right between us for the added sensation.

One, two, three.

Again, pressing against his hand and the vibrator, soaring higher. Something makes me laugh.

One, two, three – pull.

Arching harder, head back, mouth open. The gag falls deeper and it feels right somehow. I shake and the pain flows in pleasure.

Back down and I drop my head to his shoulder, catching my breath.

Are you about done?

The orgasms have been a release for the pain, I can keep going, but it is a good place to come down from. I am gagged and cannot reply. Toy says yes.

The wrap is cut away, the dogbones removed.

She’s going to fall backwards.

Birthday boy grabs my arms and the nipple clamps come off. I do collapse back with a cry, and he holds me. I try to get up but then relax back against his chest. A chair comes, the cuffs are removed and I sit. Breathing for a few moments and then the blindfold, blinking in the light.

There are people watching, more of the family has arrived, I smile at them, not even trying to identify the tourists.

He coaxes Toy to turn away from them and takes her blindfold off. Gives her my hand. Her wrap returns, and a blanket comes for me. We relax for a few minutes with him between us.

The I take her to the couch, wrapped up in blankets we snuggle in together, dropping and cold we cling together for warmth and comfort. Snuggling and happy. The scene was amazing.

Slowly we surface, bit by bit. People come and go. Her clothes are wet. Latex is good for you. We snuggle closer to the heater, blankets wrapped more tightly. People checking in on us. Water and warmth is all we need.

Becoming verbal we greet people, and share tidbits of the scene with each other. Watch him flog a squirmy boy.

We are back above the water now, fully surfaced and awake. He returns with the cuffs, and latches our wrists together. More snuggling and then he returns and slips in between, our shackled wrists coming out of the blankets to lay in his lap.

He asks us some questions, but then reality invades. I am needed for the violet wands again. He uncuffs me and back to work I go, shackles still in place.

We finish the scenes and the night. A big hug and thank you. Ready to pack up. He unlocks my ankles. A wonderful night of love, joy, pleasure and pain. Now complete.

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All orgasms are not created equal.

August 5th, 2009

Years ago, I began to learn orgasm control. I had Doms who required me to ask permission before orgasming, and I picked it up fairly quickly. About a year ago, I began learning to orgasm on command and to control them. To make them soft, or hard, to keep going or to stop short, depending on what was demanded of me. To even have orgasms, if commanded, in the middle of a crowded restaurant with very little stimuli other than his voice. Above all, to not orgasm without express permission while I am with him, no matter what. (No one has yet tried to control my activities when I am alone.)

All this considered, it is not to say that every commanded or permitted orgasm is equal. They are not all as intense or satisfying. I still get reliably better orgasms from fingers or tongue(depending on the wielder of such) than from intercourse. I can have incredibly intense orgasms out of painful pleasure, and softly satisfying ones from sex. That is not to say I don’t have great sex, or even occasional great orgasms during sex. It all depends on build up, mood and balancing everything just so.

A word about how I’ve been trained, as some people find it very interesting. I’ve been trained to orgasm on the count of three. Some people like to play with this, randomly counting to three, but it doesn’t work like that. As with many things in life and the scene, it is the intention behind the words and the control taken by the speaker and given by me. It is also a very vocal trigger at this point. I was recently asked if counting by showing fingers would work. I suppose I could learn to work off that as a trigger, but it is very much connected to the sound right now. I like to hear the words, the emotions and the command in his voice.

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