Needleplay
March 3rd, 2011
A year ago tomorrow, I wrote a post about needles. Last night I experience needle play for the first time. He put one needle in each breast, and he and hubby pulled them out at the same time. Here is my story.
We’re going to need you. Toy and I. Physically and mentally, we’re going to need your support tonight, to watch the demo portion of the needle class. A hard limit for us both, but we are curious and want to learn the information. I’ve been preparing for needle play for over a year. She barely wants to go.
He is prepared, has a plan, and restraints. The class gathers and he cuffs our wrists to each other, my right to Toy’s left. Then shackles me to a riser, left ankle to a handle on solid wood. There are blindfolds nearby, should watching become more than we can handle. I’m already halfway through a glass of water when the class begins.
Safety first. Always. Cleaning supplies, gloves, first aid. Listening intently, safety quiets the panic. Veins and nerves must be avoided – like rope, I tell myself. Health inspectors and the law, public versus private.
The doll gets naked as we learn about the needles. The types of needles, the parts, the shape. The bevel could be like an airplane, but maybe backwards – don’t ask, it’s origami gone horribly wrong.
We get demonstration of cleaning and preparing, the site and the sub. Remember to breathe, always remember to breathe, and remind them to breathe.
The movement of the needle described in detail, I cannot watch. I have to watch. Toy is hiding against me. Oh god, I can’t watch that. Different sizes, higher numbers are smaller – I have 25s, they’re apparently for babies. I’m okay with that.
He sits in front of us, I hold his shoulder, pet his hair, finding comfort in his solidity.
You can run line through the needles, leave it there and take the needles out. Oh god, now there’s blood. Toy and I hide against each other. He tells us to watch.
Ribbon now, connecting them all together into a pretty corset. Pretty from here, if you don’t look too close. And now he ties the center of the ribbons all together and tugs. We’re hiding again and he’s pulling our eyes back to the scene. Look at that blood. Didn’t someone tell me needle holes weren’t supposed to bleed. I swear someone said that once. Oh gods, why do they keep pulling on it?
He’s uncuffed my ankle at some point, I don’t remember when, and cuffed it to another girl who is enjoying the show, though she arrived late. Class is over on time and now it’s time for folks to try it out.
He unshackles me, collars her and leaves us sit with the needleplay box I gave him last year. We curl up and chat with folk, the only part of the room not filled with needle tossing. Calming and relaxing, I warn her, he has plans. She just says no.
He gets an experienced bottom, tosses two in a pain button and calls us over. We watch him put in the next two. Double dipping pain button, and then she offers him a 14. Oh dear gods, look at that thing, it’s HUGE. I can hardly look at it, let alone watch it go in her, under the other two. Dear gods it’s huge. There is a screaming contest and then a quiet contest. Then he cleans her up.
Our turn. Toy shakes her head. But just one? If you do one, Toy, she’ll have to do two. Are you okay with that? I’ve already agreed to a couple, sure. Okay. One for Toy, two for me. We hop up on the table, hands still cuffed, fingers intertwining.
Where, Toy? Thigh, below the writing, above the knee. Help her breathe. I am terrified, we look at each other and I control the breath. Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Breathe out… and on and on. He puts hers in, double dipping through her thigh. She does well, cringing but not screaming. Feels like a fucking needle in her thigh. But she is fine and breathing.
Now me. Where? I don’t know. Scared, confused, not very fleshy. Hubby says breasts, so I take off my shirt and bra, one handed. He taps my chest. Here? No, lower, please. Aww… He offers hubby first kiss. I kiss hubby, near tears. He kisses me, too, then turns my head to Toy. Breathe in… Breathe out… she intones. I am freaking out more than she did. Choking breaths. Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Breathe out… One needle in, I barely felt it. Breathe in… Breathe out… The second one he does less deep and I squeal. Breathe in… Breathe out… and squeal again… Breathe in… Breathe out… Two needles in. One in each breast. I snap my head back to him, he is grinning and happy and bouncy as he has been since the first needle that night. I’m breathing too hard. Slow down. My hands are numb. That’s okay, don’t breathe so hard. Breathe in… Breathe out… Kisses again. You know that if you went deeper on that second one, it wouldn’t have hurt her so much, hubby notes. Yes, he says, I wanted it to hurt.
So, your hubby gets two as well? No. Speak up? Two more? No more. I heard One more, speak up. No more. Please, no more right now. So, I can leave those in for a while? Light headed. Breathe, don’t hyperventilate. My arms are numb from the elbow down. Okay so should I take them out one at a time? Or hubby and I both take one at the same time. Yes, that, both. On three. One, two, three. I squeal again. Another kiss. Thank you. Toy’s comes out, too, after we convince her that out hurts less.
We hold each other for a bit on the table, she starts to drop and we move to the bed. Snuggles, all three of us curled up together. Warm, happy, crazy. We did needles tonight. First time ever. OMG, we did needles. He strokes and pinches and pets. Comfort, love and quiet.
Head hurts, ears are leaking, but oh so incredibly happy. We made his week. He made mine. Hubby even helped. Will I offer it again? As punishment? Yes, I can see offering it again. It made him so happy and bouncy. I like playing with fear, and offering limits as atonement.
Dear gods, I had needles in my breasts last night. Wow. Still buzzing.
Turn Ons
July 1st, 2010
A short post today. It’s been a busy week and I have more things still to do.
What turns me on? I’ve posted about my fantasies. I’ve posted about my kinks. But what really turns me on? The simple things. What gets me going?
A deep kiss, full of passion.
The joy in his eyes and the smile on his lips.
A tight grip on my hair, right against the back of my head.
Light sucking and nibbling on my earlobes.
Harsh bites on my neck; inner wrists, elbows and thighs.
Hard pinching of my nipples.
Hard rubbing and sucking on my clit.
Naked bodies pressed together.
Sucking on a cock.
Open hand spanking on my bare ass.
A knife blade on my skin.
The smell of hemp and leather.
Rope holding me tight.
Pain coursing through my body.
Fear rumbling in my chest.
Giving up control, giving up completely.
Stun Gun, Crunches and a Dragon Tail
May 13th, 2010
With apologies for last week’s post, I was not in the writing frame of mind…
He snapped his fingers with a smile, and my clothes came off. Shirt, shorts, shoes, socks. Piled neatly on the floor near the suspension ring, out of the way. Thirty feet of hemp, doubled up, around my waist three times, knotted and wrapped into a short tail. Sixty more feet, thirty for each leg, from waist to thigh, a small band, and up and down, thigh to waist. A drum tie. Tuck the tails into the wraps, a double coin for style.
I’m going to blindfold you, turn you upside down and spin you around, how does that sound?
Sure, sounds fun.
A carabiner in the crotch, catching all four runs of line. Hoist rope run through pulleys and ring, up I go, only slight pinching as the ‘biner shifts from down to up. Feet straight up, lift until only my fingertips touch the floor, feet below the beam. He sits in front of me, checking in, all is well.
Aren’t you under dressed?
Yes, Sir.
Now you’re screwed.
A blindfold, tied around the head. Spinning and swinging, checking that all is secure.
Now I’m going to go get the stun gun.
Whimper, squirm, gasping for breath. He asks, receives and returns, electricity crackling. I yelp at every snap, louder at the noise than when it touches me. Unable to move, the shots with it flow into me. I squeal at the short bursts, my arms around my head, panting with fright. More spinning and swinging, more zapping and crackling. His voice breaks through again.
I’ll let you down after you do one hundred crunches. Do you understand?
Yes, Sir.
Spinning, spinning, crunching up. Tired quickly and oh so dizzy.
How many?
16, Sir.
Are you giving up?
No, Sir.
Spinning and crunching and counting. The stun gun comes in to help motivate. My arms are numb.
If you pass out, I’ll leave you there.
Oh yeah, and breathing. Breathing and spinning and crunching and zapping.
How many now?
50, Sir.
Are you giving up?
No, Sir.
Should I get the dragon tail? See which of us can do finish the next 50 first?
More crunches, desperate to finish. Counting down now instead of counting up. People watching, some amused, some sympathetic.
100, Sir!
Are you sure?
Yes, Sir.
His arms around me and a table slid beneath me. Some one lifting my ass while he unhooks me from the ring, and down on my back. Gasping and shaking. Finally catch my breath and I feel him nearby.
Snap!
Dragon tail. Scream. He moves around the table, snapping thighs, belly, breasts. My arms are still up around my head. I flatten out, but rock with each snap. Grabbing at the table for a moment before falling flat again. Legs curling up and back down. Tears come, filling the blindfold.
Toes up!
I straighten my legs, feet out, whimpering, crying. Screaming as he snaps the sole of my foot, curling up and forcing myself to flatten out. Shaking, crying, screaming, writhing.
A different sensation. Slapping my belly and thighs. The screaming stops, I sink into the more solid continuous pain, coming out for a vibrating yell.
More snapping, screaming, crying and then…
Stand up. Move it.
On my feet, blood rushing out of my head.
On your knees.
Down I go, back up, head down, knees spread, palms up. He circles snapping thighs, arms, breasts, long strokes on my back. I arch and squeal, and return to position. Head throbbing, but slowly calming.
He walks away and leaves me to come down. Tears stop, breathing calms, shaking quiets. Sound returns, cool air of the dungeon on my skin. I feel him in front of me. Blindfold is untied. Ordered to my feet, he unties the ropes, handing them up to me.
Can I have my girlfriend back?
Yes.
Smiles and hemp coils. I take care of the rope, inspecting and coiling, putting it back in the crate. My stomach, reminds me I was abusive to it, spinning upside down. He sends me up for water, I down a few crackers and return. A few glasses later and I’m curled up by his side. All fuzzy and glowing from a spectacular scene.
Shiny
March 12th, 2010
She was shiny. Head to toe, black latex covered not quite every inch of flesh. High heeled stiletto shoes over form fitting latex stockings, all the way up to mid thigh, stopping just short of a short slick jacket over an even shorter little black, curve-hugging dress. He was sure that if she bent over just right, he would see shiny black panties peeping out at him. Even her hands, nervously adjusting her clothes were covered in the stuff. She caught him looking at her and brightened, his smile washing away her nerves as she beamed back at him, shining as much as her clothes.
“You look good.” He held out a hand to her.
“Thank you.” She went to him, wobbling only slightly on the unfamiliar heels, stockings swishing as she walked, and took his hand.
“Turn for me.” He lifted her hand and she spun in a slow circle, giving him full view of her outfit. “You did well.”
“Glad you like it.”
He undid the belt around her coat, and pulled it aside, pushing it down off her arms to reveal bare skin from shoulder to elbow. He kissed and nibbled her skin as it was uncovered. He paused to hang the jacket on the back of his chair he turned back to her, running his hands down her smooth sides.
“I like it very much.”
He slid one hand around the back of her neck, catching her hair tightly, pulling her against himself. Kissing her softly, he ran his other hand down her back and over her ass, enjoying the feel of her tightly encased body. Slipping his hand up the inside of her thigh, he found what he was looking for, slippery panties to match her outerwear. He teased a murmur out of her and then withdrew his hand.
He stepped back half a step, and took another look at her, fingertips running along the curves of her dress, down her thighs to the tops of the stockings. He turned her around, walking fingertips on her thighs, and then trailed them up to the top of her dress. Catching the zipper, he pulled it down, savoring the sound. Then he peeled back the dress, his mouth following his fingers, licking, nibbling and kissing the exposed flesh. He pushed it off her arms and let it fall to the floor.
Grabbing her shiny hips, he turned her back to face him, and kissed her hungrily. His hands rose to her breasts, fondling, and squeezing. Fingers found nipples and pinched, eliciting a gasp into his kiss. He kissed down her neck and chest, first to the right breast, nibbling and sucking on her hard nipple and then across to the left, devouring her flesh as gloved hands stroked his hair.
His hands slid down to her waist, hooking fingers in the top of her panties. He glanced at her eyes, dark and eager. He kissed down her belly and then started to slide her underwear down, following with soft kisses over her mound, tongue flitting out as he slid them down her thighs and calves. She stepped out of them, gloved hands now finding balance on his shoulders, and he pressed in, with fingers and tongue, finding a different kind of slickness.
She moaned softly and pressed against him, her arms and legs still covered in shiny latex. He ran his hands down her thighs and calves, enjoying the feel of her as she shivered against him. He stood up, trailing hands from latex to flesh, and down her arms to latex again.
“So delicious.”
He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, arm around his shoulders. He paused to savor the moment and then carried her to his bed, tossing her playfully down where she lay open and waiting to be fully devoured.
Reconnected
February 11th, 2010
Do you want to do flogging or rope tonight?
Sure, get me the rope.
How much?
4, 8mm.
30s?
Yes.
Did you stretch?
No…and I stretch while he explains to her why.
Arms behind my back for a box tie. He wraps bands around my chest as well, a suspension-worthy box tie. Two lengths of 30′ and I could still eel out if I wanted to.
Do I feel screwed yet? No, I still have my feet.
He grabs the third. This one really constricts my movement, my arms cannot separate at all now, they move as a unit.
I still have my feet, but I know I’m screwed.
Up on the bed, legs crossed, he ties my ankles together, having to use a 30′ instead of a 15′ to make it sustainable, as the rope loops up around my neck. He wraps the rope between ankles and neck, tying it off to keep it from sliding. I have a wrapped handle on front and back and I’m proper fucked now.
He rolls me around, teasing, caning, Uncle. Writhing and squealing, gasping, trying to catch his eye through my legs, too close to the edge of the bed to protest too much.
He lets me breathe, then tests my trust. Balanced on the edge he lets me fall little bits, I shriek and he catches me, every time. I look into his eyes, the joy is there, the love is plain.
Time to test the new head box. He lifts me to the floor, setting me on the cold cement. The heavy box comes down, cutting me off. I am gasping, afraid Uncle will return. A stray comment and he is back, pulling my bra down and clamping my nipples. He pulls on the chain, pinches my thighs. I thrash and scream and he giggles. The box needs more padding, the hole is too big, I keep hitting my teeth on the edge. But it does a good job of isolation.
The box comes off, we give him feedback, he thanks us for trying it out.
Nipple clamps become a lead, he drags me across the floor, scooting and yelping. The right one keeps coming off, squeals when he puts it back on. Over to another chain, hooking them up above my head, I have to balance to keep from pulling them harshly. A bamboo cane now, ass and thighs, I roll and yelp and breathe with the strikes. He hits my breast and I squeal, my clamped nipple brings a scream as I find his eyes and his joy brings me solace.
My hips ache and he lets me down, having to reattached the pesky right one, yet again. Whimpering yelp. Rolling onto my back, pillow provided, the cane goes for the tender bits and thighs and ass. Then up to sitting again, he takes the clamps off, gasping and leaning against him. A moment’s reprieve.
The cane returns, I move wrong, blocking in a moment of weakness. He grabs my septum and scolds me, I cringe and grovel and force stillness as he returns to it harshly. I thrash, but keep his target clear.
If I feel teeth you’ll regret it.
I would never. My mouth is open with the pain, it will not close on flesh. Pain space is coming now, screams dwindle into heavy breathing. He moves around the body, I sink into it, and he lets me. Closing my eyes with a hand, he leaves me to drop into space.
The rope, holding me, cradling me, keeping me safe and leaving me vulnerable. My hands have shifted, but they still are held fast. My arms cannot move, but there is no pain. Circulation is complete, the problems easily solved. My neck begins to grow weary, I bring up a knee to rest it on. Not for long, I like the pull of the rope. The handle at my throat is not too close and pulls evenly.
I sink deep into the rope. I can hear the other scene, but I don’t care. I am here. I am happy. I am in His rope again. His hemp digging into my skin. Keeping me just how he wants me. Held in position, easily moved and open access to everything. A prisoner tie, and perfect.
He returned and freed my neck and ankles, ordered me to kneel, knees spread wide. He smacked my inner thighs, bright red hand prints. Pinching the bruises and putting me back into pain space.
Can I put needles in you?
I did not say no.
May I put needles in you?
Not tonight.
Yes or no.
I waffle, because my brain isn’t screaming no, and he wants to, and she has them, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. It’s been a big scene and I don’t know that I want to add that on top of it.
Yes or no.
No.
Was that hard?
Yes, my brain was arguing with itself.
My feet hurt from the pressure of kneeling. He pulls me up and begins untying.
The feel of the rope, shivers through my body. Murmuring, spacing. He drags it across my nipples and I whimper. Pure rope pleasure. One. Two. Three. So good to me.
The rope is off, we hug, just sharing the floating energy. The ropes are waiting, I sit with them, run them through my fingers, coil them and put them away.
Practice is over, everyone is gone. We sit for a few moments, reflecting.
Rope marks and bruises. Joy and love. We needed this. Reconnected.
Journey to Submission, Part 1
December 9th, 2009
She knelt on the bearskin rug on the hearth, hands on her thighs, hair falling down around her lowered face. The fire crackled and popped, casting an orange glow over her pale skin. He stood with his hand on the mantle, watching her from behind. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, run his hands down her back. He needed to touch her, to take her, but he waited. Control. He had to be in control, but the sight of her there, naked and kneeling was driving him crazy.
She had come to him a year ago, a gift from his parents for his eighteenth birthday. A servant girl to entertain a prince. She had knelt to him then, but there had been fire in her eyes and a stubborn slant to her chin. The past year had been a journey for them both, full of joy, sorrow, excitement and conflict. All leading to this day, where she knelt willingly and submissively on the rug, waiting to serve him.
Had it really only been a year?
~~~
The hall grew quiet as King Samsen and Queen Sylvia rose from the table. Prince Jayceon returned from the dance floor to stand beside them. At a motion from the King, the guards swung open the doors, and two men entered, flanking a young woman, dressed in an iron collar attached to iron manacles, and a small leather skirt. The men in the crowd murmured and stared. The women eyed her critically. Jayceon bit his lip and looked between her and his parents as she was marched to the front of the room and shoved to her knees.
“Happy birthday, Jayceon.” The King announced. “Since you have not chosen a wife, yet, this one will take care of you until you do.”
Jayceon looked at his mother, she was smiling, but her lips were thin and she glared at the girl. He looked back at her and realized why. She was looking up at them all with undisguised fury. He took a step back and then laughed. The tension in the room broke with his grin.
“What’s your name?”
“Ciera.”
“Well met, Ciera. Thank you for coming to my birthday party, though you look decidedly unhappy to be here.”
She did not answer, nor did she drop her gaze.
“Perhaps you would be more comfortable waiting elsewhere?” He motioned to her guards who pulled her to her feet and led her back the way they had come.
“She’s a wild one, Jayceon.” The Kind confided. “You’ll enjoy her, I wager.”
“Samsen, she’ll bite his head off rather than serve him, what possessed you to pick such a girl?” The Queen hissed as the room filled with chatter again.
“You worry too much, Sylvia. Our boy can handle that small wisp of a thing.”
Jayceon was sure he could handle her, but wisp was not the word he would have used to describe her. She had perfectly round breasts the size of golden apples. Her belly was smooth and her hips rounded out in delicious curves. Her thighs were solid and her calves well muscled. Her arms were thin and her hands soft and slender. Her long black hair ran down to the small of her back and her skin was pale and creamy. No, not a wisp at all.
“Jayceon?”
“What? Oh? Sorry.” He realized that other people were offering him gifts now, and he tried to focus, smiling, and thanking them each in turn, but the girl filled his mind and he wanted nothing more than to rush back to his rooms to see her.