I had a much anticipated double-domme session with Spiral and Majeste last night and am still floating on air and occasionally grinning like a crazy person.
Admittedly, it was not an auspicious start. I was running late and had not been able to set the space up as well as I'd have liked by the time the buzzer rang and they arrived. I hate not being prepped for a session - part of what I want to achieve through my submission / bottoming is the sense that the top has felt catered for in every respect, that their wishes have been adhered to and that they feel suitably valued. I'd been a bit anxious all day about my own performance, because I did so want to do well and also because I'd been really looking forward to this and like with many things you can build up a certain level of self-pressure to fulfill the potential. What this meant was that I felt like I'd already dropped the ball when they arrived to find me mid-way through arranging the room, I wasn't in a good service space, feeling a bit ratty and annoyed at myself for not being able to arrive sooner. I almost instantly failed at one of my protocol tasks by making eye contact and just generally felt flustered.
After a while I did manage to settle down, kneeling on the floor in a plain white vest top bought for the purpose (I had hoped to make myself into a "neutral" body, without any flounce or frills, a simple object), breathing calmly, feeling the cool of the floor under my legs, trying to let myself out of my body and just relax into whatever they had in mind. I was very glad that I didn't have to speak and could enjoy the quiet as I cleared out my brain and tried to adopt a blank slate. They started off with strokes and light touches, I was instantly struck by how they worked in tandem, mirroring movements and actions in a way that seemed almost rehearsed. I was extremely taken with this, feeling a little spoilt and it really helped me begin to lose the problems of the day and get into the space with them. I was laid out and starting to warm-up, a rain of hand slaps on the whole back of my body instantly triggered an aggressive fight or flight response and I jumped up screaming, then fell onto the floor in tears.
I'm still very surprised and annoyed at myself for doing this. I think that part of it is that the first few blows came too soon and too heavy: I'm having difficulty at the moment getting into the right head-space in order to take "aggressive" pain, the sort of thing that would normally make me twitch and buck but in this case really threw me. I feel like a badly broken-in horse these days, lacking in the patient ability to settle. Similarly I'm slightly concerned that this is the beginning of some sort of brattish tendency, although I never deliberately do anything to upset or annoy a partner, it's just my own instinctive reactions have been quite strong and headstrong recently. They were both incredibly supportive and brushed away my apologies, moving me back to the sofa and giving me time to relax and chat to them about inconsequential things until my skittish jitters had gone away.
This time we took our time. I was blind through most of what happened and could only tell every now and then which of the two was touching me, for the majority of time everything blended. I was faceless and anonymous and (eventually) sapped of will, happily blending in with them, especially thrilled at moments where all three of us were together and I was the one in the middle, absorbing and revelling in the pleasure of being pleasurable and pleasured. At times it was very hard to concentrate on what was being done - I felt carried away by what I was feeling, the extended waves of built up flogging and the fact that sensations seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. Even now, I can feel a certain wetness in my cunt as I try to bring it to mind but I'm losing the precision and ability to distinguish between what happened and when - like catching the tail of a delicious wet-dream: ambiguous, vague but hot, hot, hot. One of the things that I am trying to preserve is the contrasting sensations of "soft" and "hard" that recurred throughout, feelings that kept me buoyed during heavy or difficult pain and made me extremely wet and turned on. Kisses mixed with flogging, strokes and caresses and being held against warm, feminine skin whilst it pinched, grabbed, bit and slapped me everywhere. Especially the sensitive bits, particularly my poor, much abused nipple piercings. I often wonder if I should have drawn so much attention to them with those pieces of metal.
Mostly, I remember the evening in flashes, through the post-play glow I'm still sporting. Sat on the Sybian, arms cuffed above my head, held down against the increasing vibrations and feeling the pressure build hot against my open cunt and clit. A second time round with this piece of kit and this time I certainly felt that an orgasm might happen, but I was perhaps too busy revelling in the space between pleasure and pain to concentrate enough to come. My concentration was elsewhere, or rather, nowhere. I was carried by them both, by the lashes from a flogger on my front and back, sometimes one side, sometimes both so I peaked and troughed with the breaks in the pain, the moments where it was stroked away and smoothed down only to be done over and over again as if my skin were a palimpsest for blows. I remember being helped away, thighs wobbling, to be fucked by Spiral whilst held down and having my chest half-caressed, half tortured by Majeste. Being put on my knees to suck the strap-on clean for the amusement of them both. I remember endless scratches along my back where the flogger had bit before - the hot, bright pain flashing in front of my eyes. I remember being ushered into the vac bed and the air being drawn out, plastic drawn tight, then released again in a mimicry of breathing. The sudden sadness at being released, cold and clammy out of the blessed, pressurised safetly of that darkness.
The long, slow come down on the sofa, naked in between them, being stroked and petted like a kitten and relaxing into the praise and reassurance that my earlier actions had been forgotten. Then dinner afterwards, grinning at each other, reaching for hands and making promises of again, soon.
THE FEMDOM ROPE DOJO: SHIBARI PARTY
2 months ago