It’s kinda funny that since I discovered my queerness I’ve probably played with mean women less than I did when I thought I was straight. Maybe it’s just a coincidence or maybe because I feel a little extra level of awkward. Before I was just in it for the mean kinky fun times but now, well now there’s a whole world of sexual attraction mixed in with things.
Oh,and we all know how I like to overthink.
But there comes a point where I get over myself and ask. I had a fun time at Smut Market with the ever delightful, ever wickedly mean Cute-as-Sin though my body gave up before my masochism was fully sated (I got some lovely ouchies though!) and I’ve been hearing my masochist yelling loudly for satiation for a while.
And at some point, her yelling overtakes the overthinks and I send brave messages and, on this occasion, lovely things came to fruition.
Funny thing was, when Kayris asked me if I wanted to go play part way through Kage, I happily answered yes and didn’t feel even a moment’s anxiety. Well, until making our way through the pitch black maze to find the maze room beyond. I’ve been through it a thousand times and still it makes me feel vulnerable and scared. But anyway, point is, I felt wonderfully relaxed and happy to be putting myself into Kayris’s hands.
And I didn’t actually know exactly what she had planned for me until we did the pre-scene negotiations, safe words, health conditions and allergies. It was then she told me what she had planned, cups!
I’ve not played with vacuum cups in ages, but I do love their unique brand of pain. When I’ve used them before, it’s been on dry skin. When Kayris used them on me, she slicked on some coconut oil first.
“Ooh, your skin is so soft.” She purred as she ran her hands over my bare back.
“Thanks,” I smiled smugly. I might have swooned a little if I wasn’t already lying down. I enjoyed the soft caress of her delicate fingers on my skin but I really enjoyed the unique tightening suction of the cup as she removed the air with little clicking hisses. She placed several of them on my back, painful but not unbearably so. She played her fingers across the skin taut between the plastic domes, making me purr happily.
It was when she moved one of them and it hurt in such a new and unexpected way, I laughed, hard and loud.
“One of my pain responses.” I explained, when I could think again.
“It’s one of mine too.” I heard the amusement in her voice.
And once she realised what noises I could make, it seems she delighted in eliciting more from me. Moans of relief when she released the vacuum and my taut flesh was at rest again, yelps and giggles as scratching bear claws ran over my sensitised skin, moans of pleasure as she stroked and poked at tender spots..
And all kinds of exclamations of pain when she would drag the tightened cups across my flesh from one side to another. Like an elongated plaster rip but deeper, a shocking almost tearing sensation. I loved it. It hurt, not to the limits of my tolerances but at a level challenging enough to get my legs bouncing and twisting.
And to produce a pleasant warmth in erm, other places too! I was happily floating off in the sensations. Scratchy bear claws, pokey fingers and tightly restraining cups. It might sound strange to anyone who isn’t a masochist but I relaxed into the pain, my body zinged from head to toe with the joy of hurting. I was completely wrapped up in feeling, the touch on my skin, the gentle thud of my heart, the tingles of pleasure fizzing to the tips of my fingers and toes with the whirling coalescence of desire weighing heavy in the pit of my stomach and lower.
It was only when Kayris touched my shoulder that I realised the scene had come to a close. We sat and chatted for a while, enjoyed a hug and then sat in the social room. I was squished between Kayris, her hand on my thigh and my husband. I felt like the cat who’d got the cream.
My cup of plenty (and pain) overfloweth.