Primal Futo

This week’s class was on primal play. I’ve only done a small amount of this, but it is interesting to me. The presenter, the instigator, was entertaining as always. People talked about walking barefoot in the woods, about losing control, about the dangers of the beast within us. A very enjoyable class overall.

After, there were so many people in the room. He and I just stood their, practicing one knot over and over in the center of the room. But then there was futo confusion, so we settled down for a teaching/practicing moment. Figuring on evening out the pain, I gave him the opposite leg from last week. The other bottom being tied was just as confused as me by the pain. Yes, I said, it hurts on the inside, but it’ll hurt on the outside once you go up, don’t worry. I lay and relaxed into the rope and he tossed my leg back and forth. Then he sent me crawling for the lift gear. I brought it back to the point, and we rigged up.

Up in the air, fuck the pain, and why the hell does my jaw hurt? Ugh! Tense neck and shoulders, focus, cradle my head. You okay? Yeah, just, ugh, hate upside down. But the tie is working well, I entwine my free leg and try to relax. He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. Better? NO! Lets it drop, he pulls my shirt down over my face, and I settle into the darkness and pain. Fearful that he’s getting the dragontail, but settling deep.

Thud! Fuck! What the hell. A few more hard strikes, and I flail about freeing my vision to see he has the rhino cock. Fuck. My hip hurts without support, so he arches me back and ties my wrist to my ankle to give it some tension. Now my wrist And my hip hurt, but it’s better, as I twist my leg, settling my foot against my ass.

Spinning slightly as he takes aim for more strikes. I shove my free arm into my mouth to muffle the screams. And then I lose it, climbing right up and grabbing the ropes above me, growling and glaring out at him like a trapped cat while he laughs. He strikes again, and I’m kicking out and getting more tangled in the ropes. Fighting, but helpless.

He keeps hitting and I keep lashing out and arching and flailing and kicking. The subby part of my brain is confused by my fight response, but for the rest of me it feels right this night. More strikes and I curse and growl and glare, biting my arm to keep the noise low. As he circles and strikes. Settling into the pain, one hand on the ground for balance, as I try to keep my circle ahead of his.

Finally my body is angry, my hip is screaming louder than me and my back is pissed off from the torquing. I slump down, calling out for him. I’m done, back pain is bad. And he unties the lift line and slides me down. Down and grinning and happy. He unties quickly, and I flatten out, wincing. My foot got more numb this time, though the ankle was tied more loosely. So that’s how we turn me primal, string me up in a futo and beat me. He laughs and shares with the room. He drops the rope onto my chest and heads off to the other suspension in progress.

I cover my face with it for a moment and then sit up, bury my face in the hemp again, breathing deeply. I hear comments about it, and him explaining the true hemp smell of his rope. I don’t care, it’s mine right now, this moment.

Aware again, I start to sort out the strands, but I can’t my hands are still shaking. I stop and  dig them into the pile in my lap. Clench tightly to keep from shaking, I close my eyes and breathe. I can feel the tears at the edges, but he is busy and the room is full of strangers, so I hold on, breathe, feel the rope, enjoy the flow of energy returning to ground.

Finally back to calm, I sort the strands, and tie them up. Beautiful ligature marks on my legs, bruises forming on my ass and hips. I go to him and snuggle in against his chest. Thank you. Such a good scene.