Ball gags have often triggered my gag reflex or made me feel like I was drowning in my saliva. I still endeavored to find one that would work for me, and I’m quite happy with the ball gag training kit. You see, it comes with three different size ball gags (breathable ones with holes) that snap onto the leather head strap. The smallest one was actually wearable for me! The medium and large will have to be worked up to, but I finally managed to wear a ball gag for a period of time! The different size balls attach easily by snaps. This means they can also be removed from the strap for cleaning. I doubt they’re sterilizable, however.
The double fish hook restraint is not a gag per se, but it holds your mouth open a bit by pulling on the corners (and it’s difficult to speak like that). I would call it more of a bondage implement. The metal hooks are plastic coated and fairly comfortable, although comfort really isn’t the name of the game with this item. I wasn’t as enamored of this as I had hoped, but I think this may be a personal preference than anything else. While I tried it out on myself, I haven’t had the opportunity to try it out in a scene.
The muzzle set? Oh my what can I say about the muzzle set? I tried it on by myself after getting it, and was so turned on I had to immediately masturbate while I had it on. I am definitely a muzzle type of gal. (My favorite gag has long been just a piece of duct tape across the mouth.) This set comes with three snap-on fronts. One is solid, another has a few holes with grommets. The third is mesh. I think I like the solid one the best, after all you can breathe through your nose just fine with the muzzle on. Not pictured on the box is the elastic strap that goes over your head – it musses your hair and makes you look goofy, but it really is necessary to hold the muzzle on securely. (MasterDoc, please use the muzzle on me!)
All three of these come with a free “love mask,” which is just a cheaply made blindfold. I tossed mine. I realize it’s meant to be a bonus gift with purchase, but they don’t really add anything of value. Fetish Fantasy products are pretty basic – but they are inexpensive and ideal for trying out new items. If you don’t like it you aren’t out much cash, and if you love it you can look around for a place that makes it with softer leather, or more sturdy. Still, these toys should last a reasonable length of time.
This item for review was provided free of charge by SexToy.com. I was expected to give an honest review, and I have done so here. I received no other benefits or payment from the company other than these toys.
It had been maybe a week since I had an evening alone with MasterDoc. While DeeDee joined us for dinner, afterward she retired to the room she’s staying in at MasterDoc’s. I took a moment while in the bedroom with the sex toys to try to find the Hitachi magic wand as I try to have that plugged in and ready at all times – only I couldn’t find it. I told MasterDoc about this and he despaired a little that it was missing, however it turned up later, just buried under some other toys in a drawer. Yes, I didn’t look hard enough.
It wasn’t until MasterDoc pointed it out as we lay on the bed that I realized I was more active in getting us headed towards sex than usual. I’m pretty passive usually – my image of submission is for the Dom to decide when we have sex. It’s taken me a long time to realize that I am allowed to initiate as well. (Doesn’t mean we will always have sex when I initiate, but I’m welcome to do it.) I guess I was horny. My last orgasm had been a struggle while I was dealing with PTSD over the weekend. I’ve opted to skip the story of that evening.
So there was some relaxation and pillow talk at first. I started blabbering about how at the thrift store over the weekend I thought about maybe looking for cheap clothes that could be ripped off me. MasterDoc pointed out that the other way is possible – me ripping clothes off him. Rowr. He realized that a shirt he just threw out due to stains would have been perfect for ripping off him – particularly while out at a club. With this image, I said to him, “You’re really about theater when you have sex in public, aren’t you?” He agreed that it’s a performance art in a way. I think torn clothing will feature down the line at some point. I also think I should discuss with him constructing scenes to play out in public. I’m all for that.
He had me lay on my back with my collar on. I had gotten some needles and the remainder of the alcohol wipes at his request. I wasn’t sure how needle play would go after the PTSD bout, but it turned out to be a terrific thing. He groped me, testing out various places to put the needle. My inner hip (does that make sense? The ravine where hip meets thigh and crotch?) seemed too sensitive and I hoped he wouldn’t go there. After some exploration, he alcohol swabbed off my upper right breast… and that inner hip spot. Shit.
He placed his hands, needle in one of them, on my breast. I couldn’t see the spot where he was going to stick me through his other hand. I was afraid of the pain, but it slid in effortlessly and instead of pain there was a rush of endorphins. I contemplated why needle play is erotic (for me anyway) and I realized that nothing is more personal than having someone infiltrate your skin. I mean, orifices are designed to be penetrated safely, but letting someone pierce your skin is an act of supreme trust and intimacy.
He put a second needle just below the first one. This one started to slide out a bit, so I ended up with another puncture as he reinserted the end of the needle. This one hurt. But the pain is worth it for the rush of chemicals that follows. He toyed with my body, slapped my pussy. I kept hoping he would tell me to come but he played with me for a while.
My hand sought out his cock in the heat of passion. I stroked it, being careful not to squeeze or pull on it when he let me come. As I came, he inserted his fingers inside me and pressed up into my g-spot, while simultaneously pressing down on the spot from the outside. He yanked a series of beautiful orgasms from my body. While I was still coming, he slipped the needles out. (And I was relieved that he never stuck them in that hip spot.)
I rested after, content. He really makes me happy in so many ways.
He had me suck his cock for a while and I dove into it. He pushed down on my head a couple of times – choking me far more realistically than before. At one point I pulled away from the gagging, reeling with a perverse high. When I gathered my wits, I went right back to sucking his cock. We did this a few times before he had me get lube and condoms. It’s strange but the more real the choking gets the more I like it.
He had me try to put the condom on with my mouth, but it really wouldn’t work with his cock. As it is, his head is super-sensitive and I have to stretch condoms out a bit to get it over the head normally. I used my hands to apply the condom. I played with his pubic area, working him up. He had me ride him and I did so in my usual enthusiastic slutty way. When I was desperate to come, he told me to, and I was overcome with orgasm. While my pussy pushed his cock out pretty quickly, I kept coming. He massaged my body as I leaned forward on him and came. When I was exhausted, he let me rest a moment, but then started teasing me with his hands again. He gave me the command to come again, and I did even without any genital stimulation. I squirted all over his balls and cock.
I was grinning ear to ear afterward. I told him that I think having sex with him is good for me. He agreed.
Welcome to e[lust]- Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #14? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~
Stuck – Since I first saw the picture he sent me I have had this visual stuck in my head, like a sweet thing lingering in the mouth…. wrists bound, tied to headboard–ankles bound, tied to baseboard– naked, exposed
Animalistic - I grabbed the back of your ponytail like I owned you. No protest. Only a moan. Fuck, how aroused were you? Even your kiss was desperate, wet, passionate; your body was on fire and it showed.
A Hot Afternoon – She took Grady’s hand and guided it between her legs. Grady’s instinct kicked in as soon as she touched Hatty’s tender clit and felt the wetness gathered there.
~ e[lust] Editress ~
Confessional: Fixation/Addiction – In porn, both video and photo, I have little interest in the men. It’s the women who get my full attention, who arouse me. I seek them out. I flick past hetero couplings, bored. Blow jobs? Meh. Oh wait, close-up of her pussy? Her coming? Ok I’ll watch now.
~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~
Thanks for the mansplanation, but I greatly prefer my vibrator – His views on female masturbation (derived, clearly, from absolutely nothing legitimate) are so fucked up, so irritating, and so detrimental, that I want to punch him in the face. It is, truly, mansplaining at its finest.
See also: Pleasurists #75 and #76 for all your sex toy review needs.
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Here’s my first contribution to Wanton Wednesday, a sex blogger cavalcade of sexy photos on Wednesdays. Coy Pink’s husband Alec took some wonderful photos of me while I visited their area recently, and featured is one of the shots from the photo shoot.
I wrote the first draft of this on Saturday morning, when I was heavily in the midst of a post-traumatic stress disorder crisis. Sorry to say you don’t get any hot stories from the weekend as there pretty much weren’t any. This post is a bit meandering as it’s more about expressing my feelings than writing a well-written blog post.
Mental illness is something that you can’t just wish away. I’m as able to wish away bouts of post traumatic stress as much as I’m able to wish away a bout of diarrhea from ingesting dairy without lactaid. It’s frustrating. My rational brain can grasp the fact that I’m not in danger like I was during the trauma that gave me PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). It can grasp the fact that MasterDoc takes care of me now, and the same scenario wouldn’t happen again as he would never let it. But the primal brain, the part that was traumatized, can’t be reasoned with and so I go into a bout of panic, anxiety and helplessness as if I’m re-living the the trauma all over again. And again. And again.
Various things can trigger a bout of PTSD and it’s not always (or even often) possible to determine ahead of time what might set me off. I read stories about sexual violence regularly in feminist blogs; I think it’s vital to discuss it and that silence will only perpetuate the problem. But sometimes something hits me just the wrong way, or just on the wrong day, and I find myself struggling with the same feelings I had right after the assault.
What set me off this time was a combination of things: reading comments on a post about outing sexual predators was the big thing. People were telling the survivors that they should always go to the police and that if they didn’t report the incident then they were somehow responsible for the sexual predator attacking the next person (and yet they shouldn’t publicly name and shame the person). This of course is utter bullshit as the only person responsible for the inappropriate behavior of the attacker is the attacker. But it struck me deeply as I agonized for a long time over pursuing legal repercussions after I was sexually assaulted 5 years ago. I worried about the women who could be affected in future by this asshole who was incapable of empathy or taking responsibility for his actions. I ultimately decided not to file a report because in talking to the NYPD I found out that unless they were sure they could convict they wouldn’t even prosecute. At the time people who were there that night were making all sorts of excuses for the guy who traumatized me. (He hosted fun sex parties, no one wanted to be uninvited. From what I hear he still hosts parties. Yes, New York sluts, you may in fact attend the parties of someone who committed sexual assault without remorse.) I felt like I would be completely alone in my accusations, and considering I was barely keeping my head together at that point I knew that pursuing legal action would only serve to damage me more. I also worried about harassment from his friends if I spoke up. (I did receive a little harassment just from speaking up within the circle.) Now, it’s past the statute of limitations (I can’t tell you the agony I went through that year the statute was going to be up. Do I report? Do I not?) but in the past two years a few people have come forward from that night to tell me that, indeed, what that guy did was wrong and they have felt terrible about what I went through. It’s comforting, but I wish they could have spoken up when I could have gone to the police.
As for the guy who did it, well he’s still a part of the sex blogger community. He’s on twitter. He’s on Fetlife. Part of my trigger was thinking about how many of my blogger friends believe his facade of “nice guy” and don’t realize what he did to me. I feel like the world should know, but in this society we protect the perpetrators of sex crimes. Had he hit me, or mugged me, I wouldn’t hesitate to name him. But since it was sexual and I know that being at a sex party when it happened would be enough for the slut shaming to begin, I don’t feel safe hollering his name from the rooftops. Oh privately I have told many, but publicly I’ve been mostly circumspect. I’m sure if anyone questioned him about the incident, he would deftly turn things around and make me look like the bad one. (Just as he did after the assault. Nice guy, huh?)
I’ve heard from someone else that they heard the story of that incident from him and his telling is completely different. In his mind, I was a woman who decided to try to “destroy him online.” I find this rich considering I didn’t name who did it or hint at who did it in the aftermath (for at least 2 years). I merely blogged about the hell I was going through and from this dickhead I got things like emails telling me to stop using him as “blog fodder.” Most readers of the blog I had at that time didn’t know who had done it, so I don’t see how he was persecuted by my trying to process my feelings. (He sure didn’t like the comments people left about what an asshole he was. But these people didn’t know he, specifically, was the asshole.) He refused to take any sort of responsibility for his behavior, and one or two people close to him made excuses (“He was drunk.”) or one even went so far as to call me crazy. I’m not crazy. And this man who did this to me is clearly incapable of empathy. I’m not the only person to observe him and come to the conclusion that he likely has some sort of personality disorder. So while a part of me wants to hear an apology (5 years later and one still hasn’t appeared) I don’t really expect to ever get one, because he is so focused on how this incident affected him. (Isn’t that simply amazing? He traumatized and assaulted me and he feels that he’s the wronged party.) I’ve seen him concoct huge, involved, false stories about people I know because he imagines that they are persecuting him in some way. I’ve heard about others who have spoken out about him who have been incessantly harassed by his minions. Intellectually I know this man will never feel remorse for what he did to me. And this is supremely frustrating because his actions can still affect me deeply 5 years later. When will it stop? I don’t know that the flashbacks will ever stop. I don’t know that the self-blaming will ever stop. I don’t know that my fears of him hurting other women will ever stop. A few years back a woman I was dating turned out to go to his parties. I felt panicked for her because I was afraid if he knew I knew her then he’d do something to her too. That incident was a total trigger for me. I went home and cried.
I’ve spent the past three and a half days trying to distract myself from the feeling of being re-traumatized. But it’s not something that can be simply ignored. I keep going through endless cycles of panic coming on, followed by extreme frustration that I could be happy and having hot sex right about now, but instead I’m feeling violated and fearful. When I’m triggered, I live the trauma all over again. Over the weekend I was psychically in the space where I was during/after the assault: scared, helpless, panicked, angry. I find myself questioning if going to a sex party makes it somehow okay for someone to put a speculum inside you without having negotiated it (or ANY play) with you beforehand. I find myself angry that I didn’t stop him before he put it in my cunt and jabbed me with it. (I had a tender spot inside my vagina for about a year after the event.) But at the time I firmly believed that if I said stop he would stop. He didn’t. And you can’t just jump up and run out of a room with an open speculum inside you. I had to rely on this asshole taking it out of me. With enough panic coursing through me I decided to end things there and then by drawing all attention to what was going on. And while I’m proud of the strength it took for me to do that, I was already traumatized at that point.
It’s been a long trip back from there to where I am now (on most days). It’s taken a long time for me to trust my dark fantasies to MasterDoc. I often fear that someone will use these fantasies against me, like how after the assault someone commented on my blog and cited my talking about using a speculum to see my cervix as an indication that I consented to this guy, who I had never played with before, to use one with me sexually. (Keep in mind any discussion of speculums on my blog were related to viewing my cervix and not at all sexual fantasy-related.) I find myself often afraid to admit to things especially without putting in the caveat that I want to do them “with MasterDoc.” He’s the only person I feel safe enough with to indulge the dark, kinky fantasies I’ve always had.
Simply talking about something does not equal consenting to doing it.
I’d name this asshole right here, right now and link to his blog, only I fear the harassment that would ensue. I’ve dealt with enough hell from this person. Right now about the only thing I can do is hope he dies a slow, painful death. And I hope that I can move past this anger that plunges me into depression whenever I’m triggered.
I write this for me. I write this because I feel better having gotten it out. Douchebag, this ultimately has nothing to do with you. If I wanted to persecute you I’d be going about it in an entirely different way.
I’m so lucky – I had mind-blowing sex again last night.
This time it was myself, DeeDee and MasterDoc at his place. He got the mat on the living room floor and the three of us got very naughty. I think DeeDee is going through the same sort of thing I keep going through – finding that we want to do something that’s considered “bad” and then agonizing over it a bit because we were raised to be “good” girls. But ultimately we know that it would feel hot to do said “bad” thing so we succumb to our desires… and are happier for it!
The starting details were fuzzy, but I know that I gave MasterDoc a blow job while DeeDee got some toys together. He fucked me first, probably because he knows that if I’ve come I’m thrilled over whatever else happens even if I don’t come again. If I haven’t come, I get anxious that I’m going to be left out. While he was fucking me, he pulled DeeDee in for a kiss. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on behind my back (this was doggy style) but apparently, DeeDee came when I did while sorta humping/pressing against my leg and making out with MasterDoc. (This is how I have the story, I might be a little off on details.) I didn’t notice said leg humping as I was coming really hard and anyway I really don’t mind an attractive woman humping my leg. I squirted on the mat.
We reversed positions and I grabbed my vibe and pleasured myself while watching MasterDoc fuck DeeDee. It’s pretty damn hot to watch, and I love seeing how much MasterDoc is enjoying himself with two lovely women getting off at once. He is the man. Seriously, how many of you men out there could get two women coming really hard, simultaneously while you’re fucking one but only grabbing hold of the knee of the other one? DeeDee kept asking for more orgasms, and I found myself silently begging for more. I’m less likely to speak up than she is, but I was glad she did as I wanted to keep coming and coming. It felt so good to come we didn’t want to stop. And I can’t speak for her, but hearing her come would make me ready to come all over again.
When MasterDoc decided we had enough, he checked his phone and had to return a phone call. He told us to take care of ourselves while he was in the other room, and DeeDee said, “I’m going to interpret that to the fullest extent,” and started masturbating with the bullet vibe. I chuckled and continued looking for more internet porn. Earlier MasterDoc had teased me in front of DeeDee about how I keep picking out skull-fucking, rough sex videos lately. Actually, what he teased me about was my wanting to have my mouth fucked roughly. And yes, it’s one of those things that I fantasize about but am sort of afraid of. The last porn I chose last night featured an actress acting like she was being forced – and while real force in sex is rape and unconscionable – playing at it has long been a fantasy of mine. I keep hoping MasterDoc will one day tell me that I’m welcome to fight back during a scene – not fight so much as behave like I’m unwilling. I don’t want to actually fight him off. I just want to role play and have him take me roughly.
With DeeDee masturbating and my watching the porn, I gave in and grabbed my vibe and started masturbating myself. While MasterDoc was off in the next room we lay on the mat and came and came. DeeDee and I talked at times and she hoped that she wasn’t leading me astray. However, when MasterDoc returned we told him what we had been up to and he smiled. I think he loves how horny and slutty the two of us are, despite his teasing us about being sluts.
We took a break for dessert (Haagen Daz chocolate sorbet and fresh strawberries – yum!) and DeeDee was wiped out (no wonder after all those orgasms!) and said she’d like to take a nap until she had to walk the dog she’s watching this week. MasterDoc was a bit sad as it had been nearly a week since he had come, but I was thrilled to help him get there. I snuggled him, and started panting just from the idea of getting him off. We lay close together on the floor mat with porn playing and he stroked his cock while I touched him in all the ways I know he likes. When he came, it shot out and left a good coating on me and the mat. I probably could have come at that moment, I was so turned on, but MasterDoc didn’t think to command me. That wasn’t a problem, however, as I had multiple orgasms during the evening already!
I went to bed last night feeling really content. I’m very happy with my relationship with MasterDoc. I’m very happy with my friendship with DeeDee. And thankfully I’ve been depression-free lately so I’ve been aware of this happiness and able to savor it.
It had been nearly a week since we had been together. I wrote some erotica over the weekend that made me stop and masturbate in the middle of writing it. I was so incredibly wet that afternoon. I should write erotica more often as I really enjoyed putting together this last one. Right now my sexual theme seems to be about mental sex more than the physical, so writing out a fantasy can be nearly as fulfilling as doing it. (Nearly. Not quite.) I’m getting better and better at working myself up mentally when I’m thinking about MasterDoc.
I did some of this last night while he went off to use the restroom after we arrived at the club. I watched some porn that I could see from the next room, and I thought about how slutty it was that I wore a perfectly presentable dress out to the club with no panties. I think in a way it’s hotter to be wearing a dress that makes you look like a 1950′s housewife when you’re out slutting around than wearing slutty clothes. Slutty clothes are so predictable. I want to seem like the girl next door whose perverse desires have taken away her inhibitions.
When MasterDoc came back and lay down with me, all it took was a few words and some gentle touches before I was breathing heavy and wanting to come. He threatened me with the scenario of doing a piss scene in public and having other random men piss on me too. He knows that this is something that will set up a struggle within me. I will feel like I’m sick and sorta bad to want something like that, but I do want it and it’s really hot to want to do something that’s just so out there and so wrong. Just by threatening me with these scenes he arouses me tremendously. And that’s where the idea of mental sex comes in. His fucking with my mind can be hotter than just physical stimulation. I’m always glad for the physical to follow and finish off the deal, but foreplay using my brain is just so fucking hot. Being a submissive, for me, is rooted in wanting to be stimulated mentally, in enjoying the way he plays with my brain as much as the way he plays with my cunt.
He toyed with my body a bit. My cunt was quite accessible with just a lift of my dress. I didn’t take the dress off all night despite all that I got up to. I find that I start leaning into him and feeling like I’m being pulled into his center of gravity or something. I can’t get enough of his touch, his voice, his breathing, his skin, his cock. He had me suck his cock for a while, and I got lost in doing it. It was such a turn on to suck his cock, and then again a turn on to think how it must turn him on that I genuinely love sucking his cock.
He had me get out a condom and get on top. After working myself up over the weekend through my story and all the anticipation of seeing him yesterday, I was unfettered by inhibitions. I rode his cock, moaning at how it felt good. He would thrust up into me and I’d get lost in the feelings of arousal. If I started to become aware of my surrounding again, he’d fuck harder and then I’d be lost in the sensation. Sex with him can be so overwhelming that I truly lose track of all that’s around me. But then, blocking out the people watching, who I love having watch, helps me deal with feeling so terribly slutty about wanting to have people watch.
I rode him for quite a while, and finally begged him to let me come. He let me and it was amazing. I rode him furiously until I was spent and we both needed a rest and something to drink. I felt great after. I think he did as well.
After some rest, he had me suck his cock some more. Once hard, he had me get on hands and knees and use a vibrator on myself. (I used the Gigi on my clit.) He paddled my ass a bit and fucked me from behind. I’m not sure how many people were watching as I made a point of turning my head away from the door. His cock stayed hard for what seemed like an eternity. I was senseless from the fucking and eventually had to beg to come again. I was a sweaty mess, hair tangled in my hand, as I came and came, pressing my face into the bed. He kept me coming for so long I wasn’t sure I could physically handle it after a while.
After I had rested a little, he let another guy touch me. I hadn’t seen this guy at all, I had no idea who it was. But being MasterDoc’s slut was such a tremendous turn on for me – it didn’t matter who it was, what mattered was that I was being groped and fingered for his pleasure. The guy fingered me to orgasm while I continued to use the Gigi on my clit. MasterDoc spoke about what a slut I was while he was doing it, and he handed the guy a condom so he could fuck me. Damn. Having a faceless fuck who my Dom picked out was so fucking hot. It got me really worked up and I came some more.
In yet another act of incredible sluttitude, the guy lubed up my ass and put it in, and I figured that MasterDoc surely saw what was going on and was okay with it. And when this guy’s cock entered my ass and it felt a little underlubed, I got off on getting roughly ass fucked by some stranger under my Dom’s control. The funny thing is, afterward he acted surprised that I was fucked up the ass, although this time he did know it was going on. (Remember last time something similar happened?) We had to teach the guy not to put his dick back in my pussy after, however, without changing condoms. (It really is dismaying how little people know about sex, and how things like ass-to-pussy is a no-no.)
I was spent and MasterDoc could tell so he had the guy stop fucking me. I lay there getting my breath back. I wanted to cuddle, but I was truly too tired to shift over a foot or two to reach MasterDoc. Instead, I reached out and played with “the spot” on his chest from afar. He came over to me when I spoke up that I wanted a cuddle, but couldn’t move.
You would think after all this I would be done for the night. But no, I was still horny. MasterDoc fucked me again, this time with him on top. I loved cracking open my eyes to look up into his when I could manage it. I am so hot for him.
We got drinks after the last round (need to rehydrate!) and snacked a bit (fucking makes me hungry). I was still feeling like a horny slut but MasterDoc clearly was ready to go. So I dialed down my horniness and prepared to leave.
At the last minute, a couple of Hasidm came in and MasterDoc mumbled something about how we have to do a show for them before we go. (His ex once said that his ultimate fantasy would be to have sex in Macy’s window. You know, the one in downtown New York City….) He sat on a sofa in the common area, put a pillow on the floor for me, and had me suck his cock for all to see. I really fucking enjoyed it. I realize that this is the sort of thing that gets women shunned from our uptight, puritanical, American society (see what happened recently to sex blogger The Beautiful Kind) – but I am a woman who loves sex. I do fear that being so open about this fact on the blog could result in something like what happened to TBK, but I hope that by being open I can move along society and create more people who realize that being into sex doesn’t make someone dirty, bad, undesirable or less of a worker. Talking about sex doesn’t make me any less of a professional librarian. Having lots of sex doesn’t make me any less of a professional either.
This Lady Gaga song inspired me to write a bit of erotica for a change. The video has nothing to do with my fantasy, but I love it all the same for being totally campy and sexy at the same time.
This is some pretty kinky shit, but if you read here regularly you should realize the kinds of things that are talked about on this blog. And without further ado: “Show Me Your Teeth.”
_________________________
She had dared him to go further than before. The butterflies tickled her stomach as she wondered if she could handle what he was going to dish out.
She had shared some of her darkest fantasies with him – the ones where she’s tied up helpless, the ravishment fantasies, the ones where he does things to her she likes to think she doesn’t want. But at the same time becoming his slut entirely turns her on immensely and she hopes that her gentle teasing has gotten him worked up enough to really push her limits this time.
She had spent some time reassuring him that she was ready for this. She wanted him to reach down and find those dark places of his soul and utilize them so they could both fulfill the twisted fantasies that brought them together.
He put her collar around her neck, and while he usually wasn’t big on protocol, he ordered her to kneel before him, forehead touching the floor. She did as she was told and steeled herself for what she hoped would be a bumpy ride.
He placed his foot on her head, holding it down.
“Are you sure you’re ready slut?” he asked her.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied immediately. She could feel her cunt begin to get wet. He removed his foot from her head and had her sit up. He sat on the sofa across from her spot on the floor and looked into her eyes.
“You are going to do everything I tell you tonight without question. I am going to take you to a place of humiliation and submission that you’ve never been to before.” She took a deep breath at this. “Go get the behind the back restraints.”
She was thrilled he asked for those – she had always hoped they’d use them again. Just having them on made her hot. When she returned to the room with the restraints, he stood up and put them on her. He buckled the collar, then buckled each wrist into their respective cuffs. She straightened up, and in this position her full breasts stood out. He took a hunk of her hair in his hand and shook her head around a little. She closed her eyes in a bit of a swoon. While her eyes were closed, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face a few times, each time a little harder than the first. When she opened her eyes he looked at her intently.
“I’ll be back in a moment. I expect you to stand at attention for me right here, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She could feel every inch of her skin thrum as she heard him go off into the bedroom where the toys were kept. She tried to figure out what he was getting by the noises, but she couldn’t be certain. There was a chain noise and otherwise the noises were indistinguishable.
He came up behind her and placed a blindfold over her eyes. Now she was helpless and unable to see. He started to pull something else over her face, and she soon realized it was the muzzle. Her helplessness increased with not being able to communicate easily. He tweaked a nipple and she practically gushed wetness knowing that she was at his mercy. A chain rattled. She tried to discern if it was a leash or not. As he started pulling at her nipples, making them stand out, she realized that the chain must be one that connects two nipple clamps. The question was, which ones?
He slowly released the clamp onto one nipple. As it continued to bite and bite she knew it must be the clover clamps. She took deep breaths through her nose to cope with the pain. Clover clamps weren’t something she’d grown accustomed to just yet.
“Take the pain for me slut,” he said as he tugged lightly on the clamp to make sure it was on securely. She whimpered and he stroked the side of her face. “Breathe deeply. That’s it.”
He went for the other nipple and soon the other clamp was biting into her flesh. On the one hand, she wondered if she could stand the pain, on the other, her cunt felt like it was on fire. He pulled a little on the chain and she whimpered loudly. She moved her hands instinctively but of course found them to be secured behind her back, where they couldn’t do her any good.
He helped her balance as she was lowered onto her knees on the floor. Her senses were flooded with the pain, and the feel of his hand on her shoulders, and the anticipation of what might come next. He removed the muzzle. “You’re not to speak unless spoken too, understand cunt?”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied.
She heard him unzip his pants and he took his semi-hard cock out and slapped her on the face a few times. “You’re my cock-sucking whore,” he said, “You’re my piss-drinking whore. You’re my ass-licking whore. Open your mouth.” He put his cock in and she hoped that he was too hard to piss in her mouth. Anyway, he wasn’t likely to do it in the living room where there would be a mess if she failed to catch every drop.
She sucked, having a hard time keeping his ever-hardening cock in her mouth without the use of her hands. He grabbed the back of her head, and pulled her face right into his crotch. She tried to breathe through her nose while he gagged her on his cock, but soon she was sputtering and dripping drool down her chest. “Again, whore,” he said as he pushed his cock into her mouth and straight to the back of her throat again. He fucked her mouth hard and drool ran down her chin. Snot started to flow out of her nose and she was sure her makeup would be moist and messed up under the blindfold. He choked her repeatedly on his large cock, and then pulled her head back by the hair and slapped her face a few times. She could feel her sense of will melting as she became nothing more than his whore. She wanted him to hurt her. She wanted him to use her.
He reached down and slowly removed the clover clamps. She cried out as they came off and the blood painfully rushed back into each nipple. He slapped her for making noise and put the muzzle back over her mouth. “Get up,” he said and he helped her to her feet as she couldn’t hold her balance with her arms behind her. He undid the restraints and she rolled her shoulders to ease the soreness in them. She could hear and feel a leash hook onto her collar and he led her, still blindfolded, into the bedroom. He had her kneel on the bed, head down, ass in the air. Without warm up, he caned her a few swift times. She cried out under her muzzle.
Next this cold and slick fingers were pushing into her ass, lubing her up. She could feel the cold steel butt plug as he stroked it teasingly around her asshole. He pushed, and it slid in, filling her up. With his other hand, he checked between her pussy lips. “You’re a wet little slut, aren’t you?” She could hear the wet noises as he slapped her pussy. He slid a finger inside and wiggled it around just a little bit. She moaned and pushed back onto his hand.
He laughed.
“Not yet slut.”
He removed the muzzle and the blindfold, and slid his finger, slick with her juices, into her mouth. She obediently sucked his finger clean. As he pulled away momentarily, her eyes blinked, adjusting to the light in the room. She could still feel the heavy steel plug in her ass. He told her to lay down on her stomach and rest for a moment. He gathered up more toys.
He lay down next to her on the bed and she pulled herself close to his chest. She wanted him so badly that she started to lick his chest and massage it with her fingers. He let her do this for a moment, and lay back to enjoy her attentions.
His cock was hard again when he had her stop and lay on her stomach. She felt the cold swipe of an alcohol wipe on each ass cheek. This could only mean one thing – needles. Her ass chilled as the alcohol evaporated from her skin. She listened to him unwrap a couple of needles. He grabbed one ass cheek and slid a needle into her flesh, the needle exiting out a short distance later. She took a deep breath and her body soon flooded with endorphins. He stuck her again, on the other side this time, and again she was flying high on her body’s own natural drug. She was blissfully in subspace. Her will had dropped completely, and she only wanted to do whatever he wanted her to do. He let her lie there and enjoy the rush for a few minutes. He knew, however, that this was the ideal time to really push her limits.
After removing each needle, he asked her if she was able to stand. “I think so, Sir,” she replied and unsteadily sat up on the bed. He looked into her eyes, leaned forward, and kissed her deeply.
“You’re a good girl. Now let’s see if you’re as obedient as I expect you to be tonight.”
He led her into the bathroom, and she knew this meant piss play. She always had such mixed feelings about piss play. On the one hand it was degrading and gross. On the other hand, she relished him putting her into that mental space. It wasn’t that she thought she was worthless, it was just that him making her feel dirty and under his control gave her such a high.
He had her kneel in the cold tub. Would he just pee on her, or would this be the time he finally followed through with his threat and peed in her mouth? He removed her collar, “just for practicality’s sake.” She knew that even without that symbol around her neck she was expected to obey.
“Are you my obedient slut?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m your obedient slut.”
He made sure to look into her eyes as he spoke. “I expect you to prove that now to me. This next part can be as easy or difficult as you make it. I expect you to try your hardest to please me.”
She could feel herself shake a little. This was it. This was when he followed through on the months of threats. God, would she be able to stand the taste of piss in her mouth? Would it totally freak her out? Thankfully the endorphins from earlier were still flowing and she felt a rush when faced with the challenge of doing that which she found totally repulsive. He stepped as close to the tub as he could, and took his mostly soft cock into his hand. He took hold of her hair with the other hand. “Open your mouth.”
She did as she was told, with only a slight hesitation. She closed her eyes tight, but he wasn’t having that. “Look at me, bitch!” She opened up her eyes and looked up at him, standing over her like some sort of powerful god. He wanted to see her eyes as he did this. He wanted to watch the struggle as it unfolded in her head and showed in her eyes.
With her mouth wide open, and eyes wide open as well, she felt the first hot drops of piss land on her tongue. A panic came over her, but she steadied herself and let it flow into her mouth. He relished the look in her eyes. It was a look of panic and disgust, but she held herself still as he pissed into her mouth. He felt powerful knowing that he could make her do this.
“Swallow as much as you can, cunt.”
She gagged as she swallowed but she kept coming back for more because more than anything else she wanted to please him. She wanted to show her devotion by letting him use her however he wanted. When she’d gag and cough a little he ended up pissing on her face and into her hair. A few tears escaped the corners of her eyes. He took hold of her hair more tightly and continued to let go a long stream of piss into her mouth.
“Hold it in your mouth a moment. Show me.”
She knew he meant the piss and, struggling against all sorts of forces within her, she held a pool of it in her mouth, revolted by the taste. He looked into her eyes.
“Now swallow cunt.” She did and collapsed in the tub, crying. To an outsider, she seemed broken and devastated. But she felt a certain freedom in having let go of her inhibitions so. He let her collapse, but he continued pissing onto her body. “You’re my filthy, piss-drinking slut. One of these days I’ll do this with a whole crowd of men to watch. Then I’ll have them piss all over you as well. You’ll reek of piss and they will be amazed at how much you’re my whore.” He finished pissing on her.
“Clean up,” he said as he left the room. She slowly gathered her wits. She felt emptied out inside, like all her worries no longer had a space within her. Somehow she felt baptized, new. She adjusted the water in the tub and began rinsing herself off. She took handfuls of water into her mouth and rinsed it out as best she could. She had to wash her hair as he had pissed there as well.
She dried off. She put her collar back on and went to find Sir. Her damp hair hung limply and clung to her face. She had forgotten temporarily about the plug in her ass.
She found him in the living room and she asked his permission to use the toilet. He didn’t grant it right away but made her sit on the floor at his feet. The fullness of her bladder added to her arousal in some strange way. Still, she was becoming desperate to use the bathroom.
He lifted her chin and she had a hard time looking at him. “You’re a good girl,” he said. She let out a deep breath and focused her eyes on him. “You can go use the bathroom now.”
She paused for a moment, wanting to ask if she could remove the plug from her ass, but then she remembered that she wasn’t to speak unless spoken to. Thankfully, he noticed the conflicted look on her face and he asked her what she was thinking.
“May I please remove the plug from my ass, Sir?”
He laughed a little. “I had forgotten it was in there. Yes, you may remove it. Now go use the bathroom and meet me in the bedroom after.”
He handed her the ball gag when she arrived. She put it on and he had her get on hands and knees on the bed again. He stroked his hard cock and put a condom on it.
He pulled her ass apart and could see the slick, shaved lips of her cunt. She was remarkably wet. He slid his cock into her and fucked her slowly. Her muffled moans turned him on more, and he felt a sense of ownership over her. She moaned and pushed her hips back to sink his cock as deeply as she could. His cock stayed completely rigid as he fucked her. Her moans became louder through the gag. She could come at any second, he only had to give the word. But he was enjoying teasing her and he pounded her cunt a little with his cock, listening to the desperation grow in her moans.
Finally, he thrust his cock as deep inside her as he could and told her to come. His entire body trembled and he could feel her cunt convulse around his cock. She made a remarkable amount of noise for someone who was gagged. As she came, he felt his own arousal peak and shot forth a wad of hot come. He groaned and twitched as her pussy continued milking his cock as she came. He felt his balls suddenly drenched as she squirted. He smiled.
As they both lay limp on the bed after, he put his mouth to hear ear and said, “I’m very proud of you cunt.” She glowed from within from his compliment.
Welcome to e[lust]- Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #13? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~
Flesh – Her mind awash with the thought of fucking. The smell of his scent stirring her cunt, her skin alive and encased by lust.
Putting energy in – Play is energising, at its best; so when both of you are tired, sex or spanking can be a way to get away from it all, rejuvenate your emotional connection and stimulate body and brain with a flood of hormones and endorphines.
A Rude Awakening – In the depths of the night, I half wake to the feel of her cool skin wrapping itself around my back. Soft breasts pushing against my ribs and her groin moulding itself to my buttocks.
~ e[lust] Editress ~
Shouldn’t – It always starts off so inconspicuously. Innocent, like the sort of teasing that might occur now and then between any other pair of friends who share a hint of attraction to each other.
~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~
Comfort – She’s so strong and yet, when we lie down together, she makes herself small and vulnerable for me. ”Hold me” she says in a tiny voice
See also: Pleasurists #73 and #74 for all your sex toy review needs.
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!
Recent Comments