I apologize for potentially spamming everyone with writings today. I have a flood of thoughts that are scratching and clawing to get out. Considering it has been months since I last wrote anything on here or my blog I have a ton of desires and needs waiting to escape. I mostly write of my experiences in life, but never this sort of thing. Hope you enjoy.
This particular desire I have envisioned in my head nearly a hundred times now. With no particular person, just a man or two. Men I can trust and share myself with.
A dimly lit room with candles has always been a fantasy of mine. Depeche Mode playing softly in the back ground will instantly set my mood. Their music is sultry all on their own, but the lyrics really hit it home with 90% of their music. It’s a perfect setting for sweet sins and guilty pleasures to be explored.
I’m stripped of my clothing and soon to be stripped of my own integrity. A blind fold placed over my eyes, blocking out the world around me. The familiar feeling of a silicone ball placed against my waiting lips, begging to be harnessed into my mouth.
The song Enjoy The Silence plays, and it’s almost too fitting for this moment. The soft melody and catchy beats sweeping me away on a journey that will surely take the senses to a place never explored. A pair of warm hands caress my face and fingertips drag down my arms. A firm grip placed upon my wrists and the tight embrace of cuffs secures my hands behind my back.
Helplessness sets in as I can feel my body succumbing to urges of the puppet master controlling my strings. Pressure is applied to my head, pushing me to my knees. A stern voice commanding me to kneel before him.
Compliance is not an issue as I obey the order given to me.
I hear a faint click that strikes my intrigue and I’m almost certain of what it is. A simple stroke of cold steel brings my attention forth. The sharp blade drags across my throat to my shoulders, promising that sweet bite that may or may not actually come. I shudder and exhale, knowing I’m melting before him.
I can feel our energies rising and mixing together into a sweet intoxicating blend. My reactions feeding his desires. Again the blade is ran across my hot, blushing flesh, chilling me to the bone and begging for more. Pressure is being applied and again the promise is there for that bite. I breathe it in, hoping for this release, but it is nothing more than a tease as the blade runs over my breast and nipple. The side of the blade gently scratches against the metal bar going through my nipple and the split contact of metal on metal sends shivers down my spine.
I feel myself slipping. I can’t resist the blade even if I wanted to. This is only the beginning as the fun has yet to really start. A hand is teasing the flesh on my throat and a firm grip is applied to cut off my air passage. Swooning commences as I feel deprived of this vitality. My chest aches for oxygen but I haven’t earned it yet. I feel his need for me to squirm beneath his will. It is his decision if I should be able to full my lungs, and just as I feel I may truly suffocate he releases me.
Deep breaths are drawn in from my nose as I gasp for air as best as I can in my gagged state. My lungs are given time to replenish before I must succumb to his will once more. This time, the blade meets my skin in the midst of begging for more air; it drags down my tummy and threatens to caress my bare cunt but doesn’t quite make it.
Now I really am a puppet, and my strings are being pulled. I revel in this moment as we both enjoy our combined energies mingling into a newly created atmosphere.
The whimpering begins as the blade finally fulfills its promise and my blood begins to slowly spill. The cut is not deep, but the pressure was just enough. He grabs a fistful of my hair and continues to spill my life essence, making me more aware of the increasing pain the settles into delicious pleasure within me.
I’m being stripped of all humility as my body naturally reacts to his gestures. My body gives way and I am merely at his every command. Should he decide to take me, resistance would be futile. This is a game for us, and I know it.
I beg of him to pull my strings harder, and pull harder he does as he pulls me to my feet. The masochist in me craving for more pain, only to feed his sadistic desires to hurt me more. He unclasps my arms from behind me only to hook them above my head to a support system.
What is to come next? I ponder silently to myself as I hear his foot steps fade and return. Silence permeates between us and all I can hear is music and an evil chuckle. A loud crack permeates the stillness and my natural reaction is to jump. If my mouth weren’t already forced open, I’d be certain I would have gasped in open mouthed shock.
Is this how he wants to hurt me? Let it begin…
Another loud crack and a sharp stinging pain quickly settles on my ass. I jump and let out a muffled cry. It’s no surprise to me that a whip would be his first choice.
Again and again my flesh is blessed with the quick kisses of his whip and I can feel the remnants burning me. I know I’ll feel this in the morning and writhe with each lash.
It’s hard for me to tell how many times I felt this, but the familiar stinging pain in my eyes makes it clear that tears will soon be spilled. I plead for more, as he continues to strike me. Each lash bringing me that much closer to release. The burning is almost too much to bear as the first tears begin to shed behind my shielded eyes.
I feel the strings begin to tighten and strain against my puppeteer. They will surely break if this continues. I’m certain this is the goal. Each mark radiates heat as he only furthers his desire for my screams. I’m wriggling and writhing beneath him. Mercilessly he continues and the tears and sobs flow with not attempt of holding them back. I’m losing all control of my body and he has me right where he wants me.
How much longer? Can I take it for him? I hold on for dear life. As one final blow has been lain across my ass the strings break free, violently, and I am released. I wail out in pain, but my body shows I have enjoyed every second of it.
The lashing ceases and all is still again. I can hear my own soft sighs and sobs echoing off the walls around me. His hands gently touch his newly produced artwork. I can feel him admiring his work with his eyes. He reaches up and lets my arms down slowly to my arms. As I feel as I’m about to collapse, he sweeps me into his arms and lies me down on a soft surface.
He releases me of all bondage. I can see again and breathe properly. He gently touches my searing hot marks and tells me how good I was for taking all he could give.
My strings are broken, but I’m still the puppet and he is still the puppeteer…