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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Tuesday, 19 May 2009

Bent over

I'm tied to a bench. Thoroughly strapped down, leather belts across thighs, calves, back and arms. The female half of Smart Set is giving me a beating, before she fucks me with a strap-on. It's been a long time since I've had any serious impact play and I'm not used to it. It hurts. The initial warm up, hands and something firm but soft, is nice, satisfying even, but harder strokes and stingier implements start me whimpering, then howling, then crying. I'm loud. I know I'm loud. I can't help it - the sensations need somewhere to come out and I vocalise. As much as I am quiet in bondage I am noisy when being hurt.

The gag is put back in. He is holding my head, pressing it to him, stroking my face through the hood and making soothing shushing noises. I lean against him. But I don't shush, not really. I don't think I can. As long as the pain is there, I need to make some sort of noise, respond to it. Not because I'm playing to the crowd, or because I think that a noise-response is a satisfying thing for a Domme to hear - there's not that level of conscious thought at all. There is simply this: I am in pain. I must scream. Like water boiling over, it just happens. My only real clear thought comes later on, much later, when I examine the red lines in the mirror: I need to do this more often, I'm out of touch. Over a week and a half later I still have some bruising, my skin holding on to the memories as much as I am.

The gag is removed and he pushes his cock into my mouth, I suck eagerly, glad for the respite that contrast brings, eager to please. The pain stops for a while, then I feel my cunt being parted. A hard plastic dildo pushes in. It hurts. There is no give, no easing of flesh on flesh, just hard ridges pushing aside my tight muscles. After a few thrusts I relax a little, but there is still tension, it still feels a little too large. There is something interesting in being fucked like this - in being used like this, neither of us getting quite the sensation we might be accustomed to. I am in two minds about the pain, as always. Yes, I'm sore, but yes I like pain. I can enjoy being used without enjoying being fucked, knowing that I am giving pleasure rather than receiving it pushes me further under.

I have always held fantasies about being used by two cocks at once, and somehow, one being plastic and one being flesh, gives it a sharper edge. This isn't just about fucking. This is about penetration and power - the ability to put an object wherever you want. Without objection.

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