A fun night...

Last night began, blindfolded with a thick silk scarf. In the hall, my heart beat anxiously in my chest – I could hear him, ripping and tearing duct tape in the living room. Setting something up – but I had no idea what.

Rip.

Rip.

Rip.

In the dark, both physically and mentally, each “rip” of the tape brought a swell of anxiety. “Are you turned on?” he asked, but the only response I remember making was a slight anxious whimper.

Finally, when he was done, I felt him in front of me. “Do you have any questions?” he asked softly, and I think I shook my head, soft breaths caught in my throat. He had lots of plans for tonight, he told me, and I was definitely going to be sauced – whether just my ass or whether it was more would depend on if I was good or not…

Then quickly, stunning me, he sealed my mouth with duct tape. I tried to gasp, but that didn’t work very well and I contented myself with quick anxious breaths through my nose. My hands bound behind my back, he teases me that it will be hard to lead me where he wants to go with my hands bound behind me – so he applies clothespins to my breasts and I am lead in, gasping, by the clips. Though I remember making distressed sounds – those clips hurt! – I am reminded of Beauty’s Release at the same time.

A small flurry of activity follows – usually I can recant events in fairly close order to reality, but I can recall what happened last night but not the precise order…the memories are instead pleasantly fluid.

I remember him smacking and slapping my breasts as I knelt, usually with hands and sometimes with the wooden spoon. I remember gasping and moaning as the smacks and slaps stung, but there was no real pain – occasional stings, but nothing really hurt. More clips came out – how many, I couldn’t say, but he told me they were symmetrical. As he applied them, he occasionally brushed them gently, and I moaned at the pain this brought. I was wet; it hurt but each time he did it I felt pangs of arousal in my cunt. He ripped the tape off when he got them all on, forcing his cock into my mouth and I did myself to suck him, tasting every bit of him, trying to work him with my tongue before he covered my mouth again with the tape.

Pushing me forward so that my clipped breasts dangled, he fucked me from behind. The contrast was so intense – the pleasure of him driving into me, feeling him deeply inside me and edging me towards climax as the stinging of the clips was amplified by the motion…I was making urgent sounds and I don’t even know what I was wishing I could ask him to do – fuck me harder or remove the clips? My priority seemed to flip every 2 seconds and the world seemed really hazy, the only clarity between my legs and in my breasts. Thinking about it today has me squirming. I feel like I hate the clothespins when he brings them out – but I love how he uses them and how much they turn him on.

Before he came, he stopped fucking me and dragged me back up on my knees so that I was kneeling again. He began removing the clips, taunting me gently as he did because each removal felt molten – as much as I had whimpered when they were pinching and being jostled as my body was shaken by the intensity of the sex, removal is a hundred times more intense. I cried out each time, wanting desperately to rub my breasts as the stinging hot pain flared. He teased me that he could just leave them on if it would make me feel better.

Pushed forward, I found myself on all fours, still gagged by the tape across my mouth. He told me to get my ass as high in the air as I could.

I heard the whoosh of a flame igniting near me, and knew he’d lit a candle. I had a moment to process that hot wax was coming when I felt him pulling my ass cheeks apart as far as they could go – and securing them there with duct tape. It was acutely embarrassing and I wasn’t sure why, but he stroked me and reassured me that he thought it was sexy. I can’t remember if he said that aloud or not but I knew from his touch that he did – I think I remember the warmth of his penis brushing my ass too.

And then the wax was falling, and it was all I could focus on. The searing heat that for a second feels too hot to take, especially when it lands directly on your anus – not knowing where the next drop will fall – my ass, my thighs? My back, my calves? Sometimes even my feet (although honestly I barely felt that). The wax is SO hot for a second – so hot it feels like it should sizzle, then as it cools and hardens it’s this intense warmth as it adapts to your body heat. He has always loved it because it makes me jump – how could it not? How could you take something like that without jumping, without shuddering – especially when several drops fall quickly in a row?

When I felt as if I was as waxy as I was wet, he told me it was time to spank me. He positioned me, legs spread wide, over the couch. I can’t remember if the tape had been removed from my mouth at that point or not – I felt…floaty. Hazy. He told me he wanted my ass a fuckable pink or something like that – I don’t remember the exact words but it told me it would be a lot of slapping, not a lot of pain. And that was exactly what it was – small, almost playful slaps with a couple hard ones interspersed. Occasionally he told me exactly where his next slap was going to land – the hand of the spoon is going HERE and it’s going to be very hard, are you ready? – and I can’t even explain how that made me feel. Dread, arousal, wet…

When my ass was nicely pink – sensitive but not terribly sore, pink but no bruises or marks – he put my back on my knees and told me he was going to sauce my ass now. Not because I was bad, but because doing it turned him on and he wanted to see me squirm.

That was so incredibly erotic I can’t even explain it. Suffering for him because he wanted to see it? He pushed exactly the right button and I was tripped out. Though I admitted I was scared I barely protested as he worked the tabasco deep into my ass – as it started burning he started working his fingers in and out of my ass as I wiggled. I moaned and wriggled and it wasn’t long before he couldn’t stand it – he started fucking me, hard – really really hard, slamming into me. Between the burning in my ass and intense pleasure building inside me I barely felt like I was there, as if I were nothing more than the sensations my body was experiencing…

First time playing in a while...

(initially written 7/27/11)

It was...an interesting night last night. As always, this may not be chronologically correct - the experience was intense and the chronological order these occurred in may have blurred slightly.

He started by by blindfolding me and told me to touch myself as he gathered supplies from the kitchen. I was instantly terrified - my mind instantly went to the tabasco sauce. Did he know? Had he seen me researching? Was it something he had thought about? Could I handle it? To tell the truth, I really hadn't decided WHAT I thought about the tabasco. Had I been stupid? Would I repeat it? But it had me utterly terrified.

The rules were that I couldn't speak unless spoken to and requested to speak.

I broke them immediately; I was utterly terrified and told him so. I hate surprises. I had to know what he was getting together. So he told me, to calm me down. (I was supposed to be nervous, not avidly frightened.)

It was nothing I hadn't expected, and fortunately, tabasco sauce was not on the...itinerary.

Wax. Something large to put inside of me. (What, I couldn't guess.) Rope. A heavier belt to smack me with. Oil.

I was scared, but excited. It was going to be intense. I wanted to feel him hit me, to feel him penetrate me.

I didn't wait long - the slap of the belt on my thigh made me jump. It stung. Badly. The area felt immediately warm. I was made to stand, and rope was used to tie my breasts. I was startled, so startled - I had seen porn with that kind of bondage, but never thought of having my tits bound like that. It hurt! But he seemed to like it, and while I wasn't sure it was something I was interested in, it wasn't something that frightened me or upset me...I was just...apathetic. Although it did make me a little nervous - it made my breasts feel <b>so</b> vulnerable!

Breasts bound, I was told to assume an awkward position on floor. My ass was slapped with his hand, with the belt. Sometimes he changed it up and whipped my belly, my breasts, the soles of my feet. (That really hurts your feet! They immediately feel super warm and throbbing - again, it was something I'd seen in porn, but never thought about doing. It actually really turned me on and I am going to have to think about why later - I can't quite process my feelings on it yet.)

I was rubbed with oil, and though that felt nice, it had me nervous, because I knew what he wanted to do. He likes fisting. It's not really something that's ever turned me on, and it hurts - but it wasn't a limit, and I know it turns him on. He worked on me for a long time, until finally, he was able to fit his large hand inside of me.  I remember making such loud sounds - it was so incredibly intense and I remember thinking my voice didn't sound like it could come from me. Ow, ah..and other more primitive sounds. It hurt - he was so deeply inside me. Pulling out - slowly working his hand back in.

When he paused, it wasn't long before I felt the searing hot drops of wax. On my butt, on my anus. Yow! Searing pain, then sensuous warmth. It frightened me, it stung, and it turned me on. I jumped and moaned each time. Inanely, I worried about dropping hot wax onto oiled skin.

Then his hand, again, and as he did, fingers inside my ass. Telling me I was his slut, that I was too loose for him - much too lose - and that he'd be fucking my ass soon. I moaned, I cried out. He started pushing something well lubed inside my asshole; it felt cool. He apologized for the coolness but kept pushing. It felt wide, but not as wide as him. I was so turned on it really didn't hurt at all - he'd done a good job with his fingers and I was ready to be fucked.

When I felt his cock pushing insistently against me, I moaned and then held my breath, trying to let him in. No matter how ready I am there's always that momentary pain when I fight having my ass fucked - when in my head, I can't believe his cock is forcing its way inside my ass. It hurts while I resist and I wonder if that's why I resist - the allure of anal for me is how intense it is. Sex is great. Anal is...infinitely more sensate, more intense. In my head, I'm reduce to gibberish once I stop fighting the invasion and finally resign myself to his cock deep inside me, forcibly stretching my asshole. "There's a cock in my ass, cock in my ass, in my ass..." is about as coherent as it gets, and I can feel how wet I am as clench and unclench my pelvic muscles. It always surprises me when I come during anal - like somehow, in my head I'm sure that I can't come from this sex. And when I do, the sounds that rip out of my throat sound foreign. Are they my voice, or has the television turned on without my notice?

As he spurts inside of me, I'm shuddering, incoherent. He kneads my ass and I wonder if he ever realizes he does that - it's something he always does at the end of his orgasm as long as we're in that position and my butt is in reach of his hands.

As he helps me up, takes the blindfold off and unties the rope, I'm shaking, quivering. I feel sore, I ache, and tiny echos of pleasure are ricocheting inside my body. He hugs me. We decide to shower together to clean up.

And that...should have been the end of the night. But it wasn't, and I'll write that in a separate entry.