He Said, He Said, She Said…Part 3

Thanks, y’all, for your patience with this final installment of “He Said, He Said, She Said.” With my computer transition (I got a Mac right after Thanksgiving and have been having an unusually difficult time in the conversion process) and plenty of work and life demanding my focused attention, it’s been difficult to do the creative math that makes a big post (“math” being Ass+Seat+Keyboard). Anyway, without further ado:

She Said…

A play partner who is not a part of this story had emailed me about a possible future date. Something about his message inspired me to reply with this, which is pretty remarkable because I’m not very good at making up porn. At all. I figured before I saw him, I should test my idea and I asked SM if he could come over and help me field test the rigging. I explained over the phone what I had in mind and I think he replied by growling at me.

I took it as a “Yes!”

My new Fetters padded sit sling arrived, smelling like a leather bouquet in its shipping box,  the same day SM was due to come over. I was torn: I really wanted to play with the new toy, but I also knew that I needed to sort out this bondage set up I’d promised more. Gee. Giving up leather suspension play for rigid metal bondage, electrics, and caging. Oh, the hardship!

I’m always happy to play with SM. We’ve got this ridiculous play chemistry. He understands the reciprocal energy loop thing and he plays from “Yes” which means it’s super easy for me to slip into Top space. It’s, like, I just know that wherever I want to go with a scene, he’s right there with me.He trusts me and I can do anything to him. And have.

So I have him undress, attach the humbler, strap on the knee pads. The rigid metal spreader bar is locked into place on his hands AND feet. He’s on all fours in the padlocked Pound. It’s clear the fundamentals of the rigging are strong, so I start adding things. A prickly sleeve to go ’round his cockshaft. Clover clamps on his nipples. I pull the clamps chain towards his cocksleeve and tie the two together with twine. His balls are headed in the opposite direction inside the humbler, which is on 40 and going higher. When I ask how his knees and arms are doing under the stress, he replies in a slightly high pitch.

I start bouncing. Oh, this is gooood.

The phone rings. It’s DL. I disremembered that I’d invited him to drop by but at this point I’m kinda flying and want more meat.”Come on over,” I tell him, hoping he doesn’t hear the giddiness in my voice.

DL and I have played a few times before. He’s someone I feel incredibly comfortable around so our scenes have this impulsive, organic quality. Playing with him one night inspired my “everything seems so natural, so normal … until you find yourself bound with your knees in your ears” line I tend to use, particularly when describing The Orleans Experience. I hadn’t planned to play with him, but I was so turned on and wound up looking at SM enduring in The Pound, it was difficult to just sit around making chit chat with DL.

“Oh! You would be perfect to test drive my new sit sling!” I tell him. “Don’t undress. Just get in.” I set up the sling and  soon he’s kinda hanging in it and looking rather …. accessible.

“Is there anything I need to be aware of before we go any further?” I ask him, pushing him back the length of the tracking beam by pressing my bare foot into his crotch.

“Well, I really can’t take any marks this time, but no. Nothing else.” I pull him back towards me and kick him away again.

“No marks,” I repeat. “Ok.”

I don’t really know what exactly happened next. I kept kicking DL, a little harder. And a little harder. Turning up the juice on SM’s humbler. I undid DL’s zipper and pulled out his cock and balls. “I can’t have any marks, Mistress,” he repeated. I put the metal spiked parachute harness around his balls and resume pushing and kicking them with my foot. “Ouch!” he said. I slid on my new vampire gloves and started spanking SM through the bars of the cage.

My brain was slipping into this state of … hyper-aware unconsciousness? Like, I was paying attention to everyone’s breathing, noting SM’s arm and leg fatigue, the hardness of his cock. I know DL’s getting pushed a little by whatever I’m doing to him, and that I have to make sure I don’t take him TOO far. But at the same time, I’m kinda … just dancing around, bouncing between them, and probably making embarrassing moaning noises myself. I couldn’t tell you what I was doing to them though. I’m sure I looked like a wild woman.

Then DL says, a third time, “I can’t take marks tonight, Mistress.” And I kinda explode inside cause he’s harshed my buzz with this interruption. I squeeze the spikes into his scrotum and look clearly and sincerely into his face. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing,” I said blackly.  He apologizes and I resume whatever I’m doing to him and now he’s saying “Ouch! Ouch!” over and over and I tell him, undoubtedly with a bit of edge in my voice, that “Ouch” is an unacceptable interjection. “‘Ohhh.’ ‘Ooooh.’ ‘Mmmm’ ‘Yes!’ are fine. ‘Ouch!’ is what you say when you stub your toe.” He agrees.

But pretty soon he’s back to “Ouch!” and I’m starting to get irritated. And this is where it gets interesting. I’m frustrated. I slap his face a few times. I don’t like “Ouch!” I decide to pause his scene for a minute so I can get a grip on myself. I start to undo him from the harness, remove the parachute. He’s bleeding a bit from where the spikes nicked the skin. He says something kinda smart assed like, “I said, ‘Ouch!'” and I kinda go a little Incredible Hulk on him. “I’ll show you ‘Ouch!'” I say. I want to hurt him for real now. My entire being is screaming at me to pierce him. Somewhere in the green haze, I recall that he’s never had his nipples pierced before and has limited exposure to needle play in general.

I don’t care.

I lock him down on top of the Pound. He’s face up and looks terrified. He can’t stop apologizing and I can’t stop saying, “I’ll show you ‘Ouch!'” Underneath him, SM is clearly melting down in his stress position. I turn up the ErosTek to 70+ to distract him from the pain in his arms and knees.

A 20 gauge needle goes in DL’s left nipple. Then his right. I pull and twist them. “How’s that for ‘Ouch’?” I ask. He stares at me with a mixture of reverence and total freaked outedness. It is all I can do not to put more needles in his nipples. I get him off the Pound and tell him to stand in the corner while I try to rein myself back in.

I take SM out of the cage, the torturous rigging. He’s a puddle. Incoherent. Getting him out repurposes some of my sadistic energy and I begin to calm down. I lock DL in the Pound while SM cleans himself up.

I’m just in shock at the whole thing: most of the time, I have to keep a pretty tight rein on myself when I play. A lot of my play partners have well-defined limitations so I don’t feel comfortable allowing myself to let go too much. I hate being thwarted during play even more than I hate hearing “Ouch!” Every once in a while though, a player will push all the right (wrong) buttons, inspiring just enough frustration and pique that I go into that Hulk mode and it’s no longer a mutual thing but me being selfish or retaliatory or abusive. I feel like the Dommes I read about in the porn then. Like, a REAL dominatrix. I am on the edge. Scary as those moments are for me in some ways (“What if I don’t stop myself in time?” “What if I push him TOO far?” “What if *I* go too far?”) they’re among the most memorable sessions I’ve had.

In the end, I’m just grateful to both men for fielding all that energy — and pain, and intensity — so well. DL’s generous, appreciative note to me the next day made me glow with joy and satisfaction. It was a high it took me a while to come down from. Remembering it here, now … I’m a little aloft all over again.

********

I DO love comments and will often reply. Please let me know what you thought of this series. I figured I’d try something a little different here and I’d like to know if you liked it enough that you’d want to see more of it. Thank you.