Oct 08 2008
Crawling In The Dark
There was a time that I actually participated in BDSM activities. I was single and dating, putting myself out there in hopes of finding something real. In the process, I learned a lot about myself and about the lifestyle. Since my life has become less edge and more vanilla, I am more thankful than ever that I had the opportunity to experience things for myself.
My first experience with any sort of bondage came from a man named Michael. He was older by about fifteen years and very wise in the ways of the world. To this day I’m not certain of his heritage but it doesn’t matter. The important thing is knowing that he was gorgeous and sophisticated and he ruled his world with an iron fist.
He rented a hotel room for me and I checked in two hours ahead of our scheduled meeting time. I showered and shaved, feeling very much like a virgin on her wedding night. I followed his instructions and swallowed the fear, pretending that I was an old pro.
That first night I sucked him off and he made me orgasm by pressing his mouth to my dripping cunt. It was slow and sweet and I felt let down. Then I felt guilty for questioning him, even if it was only in my mind. As he dressed to leave, I was speechless.
The next morning he showed up at six and gone were the sweet ways and the pleasantries. Instead I was face down in the mattress with his condom covered cock violating me. His hands held my long auburn hair as if he were holding the reigns of a mare and as he leaned over me I felt his teeth close against the flsh of my back. I screamed out loud and his climax was almost instant.
We showered and left the room to go to lunch. I don’t remember where he took me, but it was nice and quiet. We could talk in whispers and I loved feeling as if I hadn’t a care in the world.
Back at the hotel he told me to undress and lay on the bed. I did as I was told and waited with bated breath. A blindfold was placed over my eyes and it crossed my mind that I should probably fear for my life. Instead, I laid still and waited for his next move.
He raised my hands above my head and I felt the cold steel handcuffs close. The loud click echoed in the nearly empty room and I tested them. They were tight but they didn’t dig into my skin, so I relaxed once more.
My ankles were restrained and I knew that my fat body spread eagle on the bare bed must have made an awful sight. He said he liked women with curves, BBWs, and I had believed him. Now I wondered if he only chose them to torture and kill them, to make the world better for pretty thin people. Still, I didn’t move. I just laid there and shivered.
I felt his fingers in my skin and he told me to remember that I was free to use my safe word whenever I felt I needed it. I didn’t speak. It wasn’t something that needed a reply.
Almost immediately I felt the flogger land between my breasts. One blow then another. Over and over again he alternated between my breast, my fat tummy, and my muscular legs. I cried and I came; I screamed his name and begged for mercy but I didn’t use my safe word.
He stopped and I heard him begin to rummage through his toy bag. I heard him tear open a condom package then the sound of it being rolled into place. He was going to fuck me again, after the intense flogging. I began to cry and contemplate the safe word. My body was tired and my soul was in need.
There was a click and whirl of noise. I stopped crying to listen more closely. I heard the shutter of a camera and began to panic in earnest.
He told me to keep my legs spread and my mouth shut. I felt his fingers pry my cunt lips apart and the coolness of a condom against my skin. A sharp pain shot through me and I tried not to scream.
In and out; out further, in deeper. Over and over again he fucked my pussy with a huge object, stopping only long enough to take pictures. I cried and moaned and soared. The orgasms shook my body.
As quickly as it had started, it was over. He removed the restraints. He unlocked the handcuffs. When he removed the blindfold and I saw his smiling face, nothing had ever looked so fabulous.
We bathed together in the huge jacuzzi tub and I remember thinking that I would never again be the same. More than he needed to control, I needed to submit. I needed to be controlled; I needed to be told what to do because otherwise, my brain would never turn off. He recognized it and nurtured it. He kept me for the entire summer, feeling so strongly that I was walking in the sun.
And now? I’m lost. I’m always on. I’m crawling in the dark.
October 8th, 2008 at 10:23 am
This is a wonderful recollection. That feeling of being pushed past the edge and contemplating your safe word is a really wonderful one even though it is emotionally challenging.
October 8th, 2008 at 5:16 pm
It’s been so long. I feel like I’m going insane, the need is stronger than ever. I just don’t know how to get that because The Knight isn’t that kind of dominant, ya know?
October 10th, 2008 at 12:18 pm
[...] Sunday Evening Fuck Crawling In The Dark [...]