Thursday, September 4, 2014

A Day of Bondage

This is an adult blog, containing frank and detailed descriptions of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Some things are drawn from real life, and some are spun from my imagination. Read at your own risk.


So my Master has asked me to detail what I think 3 days of bondage might be like. Hmm. Three days seems a bit overwhelming, to be honest; what I'm going to do is begin with one day, then expand it from there as I can. I am working under a few assumptions, as well: that this experience occurs just between Master and me; that it takes place in a hotel, so that the chance of outside distractions is minimized; and that there will be break time in between periods of intensity, so that I can catch my breath. Master knows that I freak out when I am overwhelmed.

I imagine that as soon as I arrive, Master will begin our time together by having me perform acts of service for him. Usually this involves me dropping all my bags, stripping off my clothes and immediately sucking his cock. As soon as I cross the threshold, I am no longer in charge of my own self. That is as it has always been, so I don't think he would necessarily change that. Anyway, I'd climb on the bed, kneeling next to him, bending over to pull his cock into my mouth. I like feeling his cock on my tongue, the salty tang of his skin, the musky scent filling my nose - though it takes me a few minutes to get used to it, every time. And as I suckle his shaft I can feel it growing, elongating, filling and hardening and too large for me to take. It kills my jaw to open that wide, but I still try, still suck him, still pull him in as far as I can, gagging myself in the process. He doesn't mind, so I keep at it, and he tells me I'm a good cocksucker, and calls me kitten, and I'm sweating and my heart is beating fast, like I've been running. 

"Bring my pussy here," he says, and I shift on my knees so that my ass is angled toward him, allowing his fingers to stroke and press and fondle me as I suck him. I often have trouble keeping my rhythm when he does this, because usually his fingers dig into my clit so firmly, harshly, even, that it passes from pleasurable to the edge of painful, and it is hard to keep my mind on just sucking him when my lower half is trying to cringe away from the intense pressure. I have in the past actually pulled away from him to get relief, and he doesn't like it. In fact, I usually get some hard smacks on my ass for my trouble, and then he yanks me back into place and lets his fingers go back to rubbing and digging anyway.  He may keep up his actions until he forces me to orgasm, or he may not, whatever strikes his fancy at the time.

When he has decided he's played enough, and that I've sucked his cock for long enough, he will make me lie on my back in the middle of the bed. I imagine at that point he will bring in several implements that he can play with. First, he will bind my wrists together and then tie my hands to the bed, stretching them up over my head so I cannot touch him or reach out in any way. He will settle the bit gag between my teeth, asking me to lift my head so that he can buckle it into place. He'll blindfold me next, so that I cannot see what he'll be using on me, and finally, I think he might bind my feet together - sole to sole, with my knees bent and flat on the bed so that his pussy is wide open and accessible for his playtime activities.

After that will likely come a variety of actions. I imagine he will, at some point, paint my body with hot wax. I almost always have a small white jar candle available for sessions, as we frequently use wax in this way. This, I must admit, is one of my very favorite things. I love being blindfolded when he does this, so that every drip and splash and drizzle of wax is a complete surprise to me. It stings, yes, and it burns a little, yes; but I love it, even when he splashes the wax on my sensitive nipples, even when he drizzles a trail of hot wax over my clit so that it drips down over my pussy. Lord above, but that makes me so very wet. He will often set down the candle after a while and thrust his fingers inside me, finding that I'm soaking the sheets, and he'll usually comment on it, too. I can't help it - every drip of wax makes me shiver, and little sighs and moans of pleasure escape me while he paints my skin. After several minutes of this I'll start squirming on the bed, my body hoping for him to allow me to cum, but of course, he won't permit it so soon, and I'll spend the next however-long-he-says trembling with desire and pent-up need, but being denied release until he decides it's time.

Eventually the wax is used up, and he usually peels most of the cooled, hardened wax off my skin as he prepares to move on to the next activity. I may be blindfolded, but my ears still work just fine, and I hear a metallic clink as he moves around the room. He settles on the bed next to me and begins rolling one of my nipples in his fingers. I know what's coming, and this time it isn't one of my favorite things ..... but he is Master, and he decides, so I try to relax and just go with it. Once the nipple perks up and stands tall for him, he attaches one of the clover clamps to it. Goddammit, but that hurts, and I have to suck in a sharp breath as the tiny teeth dig into the tender flesh, squeezing so tightly. He teases the other nipple into a peak as well, and the chain is cool as it slides across my chest. He attaches the second clamp to my nipple and again, I whimper as it bites harshly, painfully, into the flesh. God, I hate these things, but he says they look pretty. Ugh. They hurt, is all I know, and they never stop hurting. He might even pull the chain taut, pulling on the nipples and raising my breasts into the air. Fuck, fuck, that is so painful, and I whine loudly and moan in pain when he does that. Bound as I am, I cannot undo the clamps, and he leaves them in place while he slides off the bed to retrieve another implement. I am panting, and I am 100% focused on how much my poor breasts are hurting. This is not fun, not in the slightest, and all I can hope for is that he won't make me wear them for long. 

He comes back, then, and I feel the bed dip as he again comes near me. His fingers are suddenly sliding over my clit, and I jump at the unexpected contact. That jostles me, and the clamps sway, pulling more painfully on my nipples and I cry out then, shaking, because it hurts so much and I feel my eyes tearing up under the blindfold. I toss my head and turn away from him. His fingers are stroking my clit and sliding into my pussy, and I can feel that I am so very wet. I'm panting again, more harshly, at the sensations warring in my body, the ever-present sharp unrelenting pain in my breasts and the fast-building desire and need to climax burning between my thighs. My hips start to rock of their own accord, and every thrust they make against his fingers jostles the clamps, and I'm shot through with another spear of pain. I moan again, more loudly than before, and I'm saying "ow, ow, ow" over and over again, though the words are muffled by the bit. 

Master shifts then, sliding down toward the foot of the bed, and the next thing I feel is his hot, wet tongue and his lips clamping down over my clit. God! I buck up into his mouth and pull on the bonds securing my hands to the head of the bed. And then I shriek, though again, it's muffled by the bit, because that much movement has really jostled the clamps and I feel like my nipples are going to be pinched right off. Despite the amazing feel of his tongue, I'm more focused on the pain, and tears leak from my eyes as I freeze in place. Of course, I cannot keep still, because Master's tongue is still lashing at my clit and the fierce need to cum is beginning to override everything else. He lifts his head a fraction, just long enough to say, "Cum," and lowers his mouth again. In the next couple seconds, I give in, and my climax rips through me. I buck up hard and wail around the bit, because I'm slammed by conflicting sensations - the intense release and pleasure of my orgasm mixed and dampened by the lancing pain in my nipples. I collapse to the bed, softly moaning "ow, ow, ow, ow" in an endless chant, and I toss my head again. Now that the wave of pleasure has passed, all I'm left with is the pain, and I'm not handling it well. Master opens one clamp, releasing the nipple, and I scream because the returning blood flow hurts even more than the clamps did. He releases the other clamp and I shriek again, and now I'm really crying. God damn it, that hurts so fucking bad. I want to roll into a ball and weep, but of course, I can't move, so I just lie there all teary and sniffly and miserable. And I'm not ungrateful - it really was a good orgasm - but it is completely overshadowed by the residual pain I'm feeling.

Master must know what I'm thinking, because he reaches over and touches my shoulder, rubbing it in a soothing way. "Good girl," he tells me. "Good girl." And it helps, a little; I'm still hurting, and my nose is stuffy from crying, but I always crack a tiny smile when he says that. And so I'm able to nod my head, just a little, to let him know I'm OK. I feel the bed move as he leaves it, and I sniffle sharply and grip the bit between my teeth, sucking in a breath around the bit and trying to make myself relax. The pain in my nipples is dulling a little bit; they still hurt a lot, but it isn't the fierce sharp intense pain from earlier, but a deep aching pain. I don't want anyone to touch them, still, but I am relieved to note the pain is abating slowly.

I hear Master walking around, but he doesn't get back on the bed. The next thing I know, I feel a quick sting on my left inner thigh, and I jump - or at least, I jump as much as I'm able in my restrained position. I whimper, both because of the surprise and the way my breasts hurt when I moved like that. Another quick light sting follows, and then I realize Master has taken up the flogger. Lucky me!! I do tend to enjoy the way he wields this implement. I shift again, cautiously, and then I feel the whisper-light touch of the flogger's tails being dragged up my left leg, from my ankle up my calf, up my inner thigh, and then teasingly across my pussy and clit, over my stomach and ending just under my breasts. That felt good, like a caress, and I sigh quietly and tip my head back. Master chuckles, then, and says, "Oh, you do like that, don't you, whore?" I mumble "Yes, sir" around the bit, and am rewarded when he repeats his actions on my right leg. As the tails cross my pussy this time I tremble slightly and whimper - but this whimper is of pleasure, not of pain, and I try to open my legs further, even though I'm already as open as I can be. 

Master takes his time teasing me, dragging the tails over my skin again and again, popping me with sharp strokes occasionally, but never in a pattern I can figure out, so each of the sharper blows takes me by surprise and makes me flinch and groan. And gradually I feel the buildup of desire again, my pussy growing wet and my body shivering as my need grows stronger and I feel the desire to cum growing sharper. After long minutes of this I'm trembling, and panting around the bit, moaning more loudly and succumbing to a deep-seated ache of an entirely different kind. Master talks to me, gently mimicking my whining tone as he asks,"What's the matter, kitten? Hmm? Something wrong?"

I shake my head, but I don't know if he's watching or not. No, scratch that - of course he's watching. He likes this, likes to see me losing control like this, likes knowing I've surrendered all of myself to him and his desires. His use of the flogger is driving me out of my mind, though, and when the tails drag over my pussy this time I buck up under it, trying - futilely - to seek release.  I feel two quick sharp smacks - maybe I've overstepped by bucking up into the flogger? - and I gasp at the harsh stings, but then I feel the bed dip as Master sits beside me. I can feel the way he leans over me then, his breath hot as it fans over my breast. He murmurs, "Awww, kitten, what's wrong? Does my whore want to cum, maybe?"  I'm unable to do anything but whine and pull at the bonds restraining my hands. My body twists as I try to turn toward him, silently seeking his touch and, perhaps, relief from this terrible and delicious feeling of need between my legs. In the next moment I feel him slip two fingers into my pussy, and I moan and my hips thrust up as I try to ride his fingers. "Oh, you are just soaking," he says, and he pumps his fingers in and out as my hips rock. I'm panting around the bit and my jaw is killing me, being forced open for so long, but I don't care, all I care about is the way his fingers are fucking me and I'm desperate to climax. The bed shifts and then I feel his lips close around my left nipple, and I cry out and arch my back, pressing my breast into his mouth. The nipple is still sore, but it's bearable, and oh God, but his mouth is hot and wet, and his fingers are thrusting deep into my pussy, and I can feel my juices dripping down my legs and pooling on the sheets beneath me. 

His mouth tightens around my nipple, pulling on it and causing a flare of - not pain, exactly, but it's still rather sore from earlier and I'm feeling it when he sucks on it. But his fingers are fucking his pussy hard, now, and I'm moaning and rocking and pulling at my bonds and trying so hard to ride his fingers, and the discomfort in my nipple is overshadowed by the waves of need rippling through me. He adds another finger, which stretches me wider and is just the littlest bit uncomfortable, but at this point I really don't care, trembling on the edge of orgasm and needing just a little more, just a little, almost there, oh, God, please .... I say that last phrase out loud and he lifts his head and says, "I am your God, aren't I, whore?"

"Yes, yes, yes," I say, though the bit in my mouth garbles the words and I'm panting so hard I can hardly form the words anyway. He latches on to my nipple again and flicks his tongue over the peak, and that's it - my climax rips through me, stealing the breath from my lungs in a loud cry. My entire body tenses, tightens, contracts, my pussy muscles clamping down on his fingers, my hips bucking up in one last thrust, my back bowing up off the mattress. I have no idea how long it lasts; I only know that my muscles are locked and frozen, and I can do nothing but ride the waves of release and pleasure as they flow through my entire body. At last my muscles relax and I collapse on the bed, panting harshly, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. But Master's fingers are still inside me and he begins pumping them one more, fast and hard, and he commands, "Again." His thumb rubs deep circles against my clit and, impossibly, I feel my body responding, another climax approaching even though I feel spent from this last one. My hips begin rocking again, seeking release again, and I bear down on his fingers, chasing the orgasm which is hovering just out of reach. "You're going to cum for your master, aren't you, whore?" he challenges, and I nod my head and say, "Yes, sir, yes, sir," as best I can around the bit. I can hear the squelch as his fingers pump my pussy, it's so wet and his fingers are so slippery, and my juices are coating his thumb as it rubs against my clit, and then all of a sudden, there it is, and I moan loudly and tense as I climax again, not so strongly as before but still quite intense.

It takes longer for me to relax this time, a slower recovery. I'm gasping, gulping in great mouthfuls of air, my chest heaving, my body trembling. Master slips his fingers out of my pussy, and even though I'm so tired, , I still whine in protest at the loss. He chuckles then, acknowledging my whine. I feel him pulling the tape off my feet, and I stretch my legs out straight, working out the muscles. He releases my hands next, then has me sit up so he can unbuckle the gag and then unties the blindfold. I open my eyes slowly, blinking and squinting as my eyes adjust to the light. The charm on my collar bounces against my skin as I move, and I instinctively reach up to catch it between my fingers. I've worn this collar for a long time now and never take it off. Master sees what I've done, and he smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his lips turned up in a smirk. Without asking, I suddenly pivot around to lay my head on his bent knee, and his fingers come up to card trough my hair. 

"Tired, kitten?" he asks, and there's a hint teasing in his voice. I just nod, my head rubbing against his leg, and he allows me to lie there and rest for a while. 




....... to be continued