Yesterday, while still at work, I suggested to Joscelin that we should have sex. He assented rather heartily, and suggested that since he was feeling good and energetic, we should try to capitalize on the situation. He requested some kind of bondage-related activity before dinner, if possible. (The intended sequence was dinner – pizza and salad – and then sex.)
Before I left work, around 5:30, I told him to be kneeling naked in our hallway with his hands shackled together behind his back by 5:45, and to wait for me there until my arrival. I work quite close to home, but knew I would be stopping at the store for dinner ingredients, so I hoped the timing would be about right. I told him to get up if I wasn’t home by 6:15 or if he became emotionally distressed or really fatigued. (I have observed that bdsm play where I am not there to watch and interact with him can be dangerous when something goes wrong, so I try to give broad instructions.)
I got home a little before 6:00 and he was indeed kneeling in the hall waiting for me. It was pretty. I had him get up and spend a little time with me in the living room for a few minutes. Before I started dinner, I re-connected his wrist shackles in the front and told him to put on ankle shackles and a cock ring.
After he made the salad, I at first had him in the living room while I worked on the pizza, but then had to move him to within my line of sight. He was so headspacy that he wasn’t responding to things in a normal, lighthearted way – wasn’t laughing at jokes, for instance – and when I couldn’t see him it sounded like he was grouchy or unfriendly. One look at him made it clear where he really was, though. So I had him sit on a chair in the dining room, facing me, so that we could interact and I could watch him. He was all blissed out.
We ate dinner and watched a little TV. I let him wear a blanket because he was a bit chilly, all naked and shackled as he was.
Then I made him ruin an orgasm. I know this is the kind of thing that people think only the men are into – a typical submissive male fetishy thing. But watching it killed me. I think it actually brought me really close to orgasm through sheer empathy, and then I was desperate to come, and rubbing myself. It was very hot is what I’m saying. It was hard for him and he was still rock hard afterwards.
We moved to the bedroom. I had described to him earlier the scene that I wanted to have, involving the quirt. I love the quirt. I wanted to hit him with it and make him like it, make him want more. And I wanted to see the marks it would leave.
The window in my bedroom is sort of inset from the main walls, similar to this window here, though I have my bed on the opposite wall. But it makes a place where you can make a man put his hands above his head, resting them on the edge of the inset. I’ve never used it that way before, but it seemed perfect.
I also had him wear a plug gag, similar to this one. In the past, this has made him drool, which is not fun for me, but I’ve been having him practice wearing it without drooling, so I thought I’d have him try that for me.
So I soon found myself with my shackled, gagged boyfriend in front of me, facing the window, his hands on the edge of the inset, completely vulnerable though bound only by obedience to me. It was fucking beautiful. It was hot as bloody hell. I could have died over it.
Standing in front of him, I played with his nipples, not hurting him (or not much). He strained and moaned in ways I’ve never quite seen before. The cock ring (I knew from earlier, and he confirmed later) was hurting him because of the arousal. And having his nipples toyed with while he was helpless with his hands above his head was nicely torturous.
When I started to quirt him, he was clearly uncomfortable – not with the quirt, but with the position. His arms fatigued pretty rapidly in that position. I let him know that I knew, and that I was enjoying it (which I was, very much), and I continued on, getting him used to the feel of the quirt and then building up the sensations a little bit. And I just watched him continue to struggle. His arms would tremble a little bit from time to time. There was some moaning.
I didn’t want him to fail, so eventually I had him lower his arms, which I crossed over his chest for the duration of the beating.
I don’t know how to describe the quirt beating. It wasn’t that kind of crazy thing like a singletail where you end up with really dramatic marks. It’s a milder sensation, at least as I was using it. At one point, I did get a bit into popping it like a towel, and the last of that series left some raised welts that were still there hours later. But for the most part I was moderate with it, paying attention to his boundaries and how he felt. A few times I made it really sting, but then I would back off and give him time to recover.
When we lay down afterwards, he was exhausted. Standing up and being hit for a while, especially with the addition of the arms thing, is exhausting. Even if the beating isn’t extreme, you still have to continually process pain and fear. I had taken the gag out a bit earlier, and I let him relax for a few minutes with me. He started to rub my clit. For him to initiate touching me is rare, but it was welcome. I was wet and really turned on.
Fucking was next, as we’d discussed hours before. He had asked me to make it painful for him. Before we began, I put a couple of clothespins on his scrotum (after initially misstating that I was going to put them on his testicles, which scared him a lot), and the fierce nipple clamps on his nipples. Pain assured, condom on, we started fucking. (He was on top. Only literally.)
Despite the ruined orgasm, which I guess we mistimed for these purposes, he had a hard time fucking me without coming. He started asking me to reassure him that this was his purpose – being used for pain and sex – and I did.
I kissed him and he made pained sounds and I wanted to know what hurt. It was his nipples, with the clamps being pressed against me. I loved that, and pulled him tighter to me to kiss him harder. He moaned. A lot.
I was extremely headspacy-high and full of wicked sadism, and when he asked me again if he was for this, I grabbed the clamps and said yes, and I squeezed and twisted them until he screamed so loudly and protractedly that I got worried about the neighbors. I just let go and really let the beast out, knowing that he can take this particular type of pain in spades. I was in the abyss. It was good. And I kissed him more and I bit his lips and his tongue with abandon, and he was afraid I would go too far, and I knew I wouldn’t, but…just barely. He had no choice anyway.
I stopped the fucking after a while – no orgasm for him this time – and took his nipple clamps off. (More screaming.) I got my vibrator and had him fuck me with his fingers while I had an orgasm that was so intense he actually stopped to ask if I was all right! It was scary intense, almost too much so. And then I took the clothespins from his balls and we lay down together and I said, “Now…this is aftercare.”
We were both high. He commented that I had hit so many of his buttons that he was verging towards feeling guilty about it.
And that is an interesting thing. Jos points out this great post by May about the things submissive men want, one of which is,
You act upon details
Everyone’s fantasies—and demons—are in the details. Specific words, intonation, materials used in play (e.g., hemp rope versus metal bondage), and other things all have different meanings to different people. Personally, for instance, I react badly to words I associate with worthlessness (like “pathetic”) but favorably to others (like “whore” or “slut”) that I associate with wanton sexuality. While I am not alone in these particulars, there are others who respond in their own, unique ways.
It’s important to understand what these details are before you access them, but it’s equally important to eventually access them; ignoring such details is tantamount to ignoring me. When I play with a partner, a sense of depth and meaning is literally impossible to achieve if I have not first talked (usually at some length) about the details of my desires and fears, and asked questions of my partner to understand the details of theirs.
You need to be consistently inviting these details into our talks and our play; merely acknowledging their presence—without acting upon them later—is not enough. I do not believe a meaningful relationship can be built without successfully interfacing over these details.
It can be a bit thorny. I have sometimes been guilty of ignoring the details of what Jos needs to best get through a scene, or what makes him feel the most of what he wants to feel. And he has sometimes felt guilty over having those kinds of specific preferences and needs. Isn’t he a slave, after all?
I don’t want to turn myself into a service top whose every move is about catering to specific fantasies, and I can see how easy it could be to go in that direction. But, really, incorporating Jos’s buttons into what I do is important. Otherwise, I can’t really bring him along with me to the places I want to go, much less give him a satisfying experience that he wants more and more of.
For me, the key to balancing this is to think first of where I want to go, or what I want to get out of a scene. Do I want his pain and suffering? Degradation? Do I want to see him have pleasure, an orgasm? Do I want closeness and tenderness? Do I want to see obedience, servility? Do I just want to get the sensation of being fucked? Or use him as a masturbatory aid in some way? Do I want to see marks on his skin? What am I trying to get for myself?
Having decided that, I can then view him as an object and think about how to manipulate that object to achieve the desired effect. I also almost always want the scene to end with us both feeling happy and intimate, so I have to think of how to obtain that as well. (For instance, if I just want his agony, I can get that, but how to get that with intimacy and warmth is more challenging.) What can I do to make sure that the experience is mutual? In short, I’m trying to build an experience for myself, and the main question is how to bring him along for that ride, because the more fully he is really with me in the experience, the better it will be for both of us.
And last night, with us both firing on all cylinders, it worked. It really, really worked. And today I have all those sexed-up, high, in love feelings from it.
I can’t believe the sex we have.
