Back in the Swing

MP&C is getting back into the swing of things. We’ve had a few weeks of really good numbers <knock, knock> this month. Getting people in from WW, from FFF, from Meetup (change your password if you use this site), from 50 Shades Darker, and from all the various word of mouth and newbie groups/meetings. We’re kicking into gear getting presenters (contact group leaders if you want to teach) for both Wednesdays and our Fetnights. And more crew is coming out each week, too.

He and I have been getting back into the swing of Wednesdays, too. We had some really great rope practice, trying out a different waist harness, in a couple different ways. I found it extremely painful, but I expected it, so could stay in it for a bit while we sorted out why. Then he tied me up old-school style, and I had a really great flight. Soaring up into the air, high enough to pull slight screams of delight as my tummy flip-flopped.

 

This past week, we had fun on the floor. The high points were full of people all night, working on rigs and ties, or just enjoying themselves. He decided to clean out his bag and I went to sit with him. He found his bag of clips and clamps and I ended up with clamps on my nipples and little red clips scattered about my body. Then he put one on my ear, on the cartilage at the front of my ear. This one just kept sinking deeper and deeper and brought me to tears in no time. I couldn’t keep my hand from reaching for it, but I didn’t want to actually touch it, so my fingers stroked my cheek and jaw right in front of it. Once he finally took it off my ear, the last of the clips and clamps he removed, he put it on my nipple. Then he ordered me to do five jumping jacks. It took me at least a minute or two to get to my feet and do it, my nipple so tender already.

The bag also held a bunch of Mr Malaprop toys, so he beat me about the thighs with those as well, as I sat beside him. He also pulled out Uncle for a few strikes to my thighs, chest and back, while I howled in pain. Both left some lovely bruises decorating my flesh. He also decided to use some of his favorite toys, that he always has with him – his hands. And squeezed the shit out of my calves, causing me to writhe screaming and crying on the floor. While I was there, he also smacked my ass, since it was right there in view, with a paddle or two. Squeezing my calves to hold me in place if I tried to squirm away from the strikes.

After repacking most of his things away, he kept out a bundle of rope and considered me. Motioning my shirt off, and saying not yet when I asked about the skirt, he began to tie. Rope tight around my chest first, and then around each breast. Cupcaking them for, either the first, or one of the few times in my life. Holding me tight against his chest while he tied and I moaned in pain leaning into him. He even put in a fuck-you line to complete the pain and difficult breathing.

Then he pulled out his whip and we were off to the corner of the room, so he had room to swing. With the tie, it was difficult to get my hands behind my back, but I mostly managed to keep them out of the way. He laid line after line into my breasts, while I squealed and screamed. He even had me turn to one side and the other, so he could catch just my nipples in the swing. A few off-target strikes here and there, but still today, my breasts are coated in red lines.

It was an excellent night of connection, pain, screams, tears, and love.

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