Posts tagged ‘restraint’

September 26th, 2013

Fear Him

Tied down
Sat up but baring all
Rope across my neck, no pressure until I strain
My fear
Brutal canes
Haphazard hits
My obvious arousal
Random marks
His cold eyes
My fear
And still my arousal
The threat of the gun
The warning shots
My fear
His cruel laughter
My heart racing
His mind games
His blows with words, with taunts
Searching his face, searching his eyes, searching for something
Finding only my fear
Eventually my tears
His smile at that
Unbound, still gagged
Begging to be used
Begging for him
My broken body
My adrenaline filled shakes
My smiles
His arms, his safety, his comfort

May 7th, 2013

Longing for protection

Since I had major hip surgery 4 weeks ago, my kink life has taken a bit of a back seat as the pain I’m in and the breaks in my bones mean I really should be taking it pretty easy.  That doesn’t mean that my mind shuts up though and kink is frequently on the brain, on both sides of the switchy divide.  My cravings change on an almost daily basis, mainly because I know I can’t have any of it but it keeps coming back to something in particular that I haven’t had for a long time.

Although I was never formally collared during my time with S, I did wear one for her at times during play and when out together and I did form a psychological bond with it.  It made me feel protected and safe, looked after and secure.  There was something very comforting in being able to feel the leather against my skin, bound around my neck.  The smell is heavenly too ( I’ve got a bit of a thing for leather, can you tell?).  Recently, I have really wanted to feel that again, and extend it to leather cuffs too.

The thing is, this all got me thinking about D/s relationships in general.  I’ve never really had much of a formal arrangement, having fallen into D/s relationships before, but there are aspects that I would love to see if they would work for me with someone, as a submissive.  I did a lot of reading when I found myself as a submissive, as well as going to several workshops and I became rather interested in protocol and service.  I like the idea of ritual and rules regarding my behaviour and actions.  I am too stubborn and independent to ever want a 24/7 relationship, plus I always wonder how that would work in poly, especially as a switch but I do have a desire to explore this side of myself again in the future, with the right person, when I am well again.  The idea excites and interests me, as well as missing some of the things I had before that came with my submission.

January 5th, 2013

All In My Head

Fantasies are a fabulous thing. You can experiment, dream, take on a new form, do things you’d never have the guts to actually do. They’re your own little private world. You can choose to act on them, choose to share them, choose to keep them hidden away. They’re entirely yours to own. Sometimes they are fleeting, something you think about once or twice,  or sometimes they are persistent, lingering in your mind, however much you seem to change as a person. I’m not one to analyse my fantasies, surprisingly, even though they are part of us. They can be very subconscious or even directed by conscious thought. They can be about anything but my favourite fantasies are sexual ones. They give you extra freedom from convention, from social norms, from acceptable behaviour. In my experience though, I can still feel shame from them, especially the one I am about to share. I know it’s a pretty common one but, if you know me, you will get why it shames me. But I am trying to let that go. I never have to act on it. Plus, I am horny as hell and have been gently encouraged! It is my longest standing fantasy, one my mind always finds itself drifting back to. I’ve only shared it with very select people, who know just when and how they can use the information to get me even hotter under the collar!

Everything seems normal enough. I come home from work and you greet me with a hug. You pull me into a passionate embrace and I feel the tingle that comes from your kiss. You lead me straight upstairs and into the bedroom. You calmly order me to strip. I hesitate for a second but then pull my clothes off, dumping them in a pile on the floor. You’ve appeared with the soft leather wrist and ankle cuffs, the ones with the red trim. Both comfortable and secure. I offer my hands but you just shake your head. I hadn’t seem the posture collar. You place it round my neck, buckling just a little tight, the pressure making me tingle, the collar forcing my head up straight. You look approvingly and gently fix all the cuffs into position, moving around me carefully. Naked, anticipating your next move, I shiver a little.

The silk blindfold slips over my eyes and I am suddenly disorientated, my breath quickening. You lead me gently to the bed, making me get on all fours. The snap of the clips as you attach the wrist cuffs to each other. The wooden thud of a pole, followed by the spreading of my legs. Another two clips and a rattling. My ankles are spread, my arse in the air, a light breeze skimming over my cunt. I am exposed. I can feel my cunt tingling more, aching against my will. Begging to be touched. I breath. I try to stay calm but it’s hard.

I hear familiar sounds; a zip unfastening, a creak of a floorboard, muffled footsteps, your breathing, more footsteps, a belt buckle, the squeak of the toy chest lid. I am confused. I don’t know what to think, what you’re going to do, there’s too much noise.

The stings on my arse rain down. There’s a lot, they’re quick in succession and still there are footsteps and a hand on my head. I must be trying to move and I’m being gently but firmly stopped. You don’t say a word. I feel fingers at my cunt, then wetness wiped on my inner thigh. Another zip, I can smell you near my face. A cock pushed into my mouth. I lick and suck as best I can, gagging a little as you fuck my face. And then I feel hands on my hips, another cock pushing into my cunt. I try to gasp, I end up choking. I try to pull away, confused, but there’s a firm grasp on my hair and you keep fucking my face. Well, I think it’s you. I’m being pounded so hard, I barely have time to thing, to try to work things out. I hear more footsteps as the double thrusting continues; there must be more than two people.

The tears are pouring silently down my face, it’s finally just someone fucking my cunt but it’s hard, deep, persistent. It’s a big cock and I feel like I’m splitting open but still, I cannot move. Cuffed, held down, finally you whisper in my ear.

“I invited some friends over. We’re going to use you as we see fit. Your holes are ours.”

I try to respond but my voice is muffled by the cock promptly shoved in it. Cold, hard, femme cock.

“You’re dripping wet so I don’t know what you’re complaining about, slut”

I can barely think, orgasms are quaking through me and I’ve lost count at the number of cocks that I’ve had in me. My mind is a haze, my body is battered, bruised and abused and deep down, I know you’re right. I am enjoying it. I like being used. Not knowing who is fucking me has made me let go.

It feels like hours have gone by, fucking interspersed with punching, slapping, pinching. My body feels raw. The clips are unfastened and I colaspse. I curl up and sleep and when I wake, there is only you. It feels like a dream, until I feel the welts and see the bruises…

May 22nd, 2009

See No Evil

One of the things I love the most is sensory deprevation, especially being blindfolded. There’s just something in that anticipation of what’s going to happen to you, not being able to see…your hearing perks up and you start to second guess those little noises around you. Was that the click of a lighter? Will I feel the drip of hot wax hitting my bare skin? What about the clank of his belt hitting the floor…will I be feeling his hard cock slam right into me or is he just going to use me and come all over me?

Combine this with gags and restraints and I am completely yours.

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