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The online diary of an ethical pervert.

Tuesday 16 June 2009

Got you pegged

Date on Friday turned out to be pleasant company but nothing else, sadly. Both myself and a member of the other party were feeling a bit out of sorts. Consensual pain is fine, wisdom teeth pain, less so. The Photographer and I went home to entertain ourselves, but come the morning I was still feeling horny and remembered that I had the baby clothespegs still to hand. He was still in sleepy-morning mode so after it became clear that he was more than happy to lie back and take it, but not in the mood for dishing it out.

I spent a diverting few minutes placing them in patterns on his chest, but it was actually quite hard to get them to hold firm (the penance paid for having a taut torso'd young man in ones bed). I decided to switch to his balls and the base of his cock, amusing myself at ensuring the pegs were sat in little rows, and alternating between stroking his cock and then stroking the pegs. I leant in close to him and continued to play with him, watching the skin grow taut next to where the pegs were, as his hardness pulled them tighter. I like CBT, a lot. Aside from the irony of hurting an area so associated with pleasure, I enjoy the precision of it, the focus. The fact that it is such a sensitive and responsive area, with delicate skin and reactive membranes is pleasurable. I love the vulnerability of it, with his legs spread, revealing himself to my ministrations - the trust he gives to me.

He was making some soft moans that only encouraged me to prolong the sensation. The process was also turning me on, so I put him on all fours, between my legs, to lick my clit - an experience enhanced by the fact that he was starting to suffer not just from the pegs, but from being very aroused himself. After he had given me a rather spectacular orgasm (orgasm from oral sex is very different to other forms of stimulation, but that's a post for another day), I removed just enough pegs from his cock so that I could fuck him, after gagging and blindfolding him, of course.

The difficult part with pegs and clamps is the removal. And there was no exception here, him lying on his back, having just come, whimpering and wincing as I removed them as quickly and cleanly as possible. Smirking only a little bit to myself as I looked at the tender, purple flesh. Gotcha.

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