Exceeding Expectations with Rope & Orgasms #MasturbationMonday

CW: Knife Play 

H stated their intent early on when I arrived.

“I’m going to tie you down and tease you until you beg me to come and then I’m going to make you come until you beg me to stop.”

It’s just we kinda got caught up in other things. In making me cry for example and pissing all over me. There was also amazing fat positive, queer friendly dancing, delicious Japanese food and snuggling on the sofa re-watching episodes of Sex Education. We got busy. We got distracted. It happens. I wasn’t unhappy. In fact I was quite the opposite.

It was when we were lying in bed that night, snuggled together, that they reminded me of their intentions. They had most assuredly taken note of my less than subtle hint in blog form and I was going to get tied and tortured.

I slept like a log that night for the first time in almost a week. I was safe, happy, content and knackered. I think all those things contributed to the good night’s sleep. The morning brought the usual routine of waking and napping. My favourite bit was being scooped up into H’s arms and held tightly as they fell back asleep again.  I didn’t go back to sleep. I just reveled in their tight embrace.

It wasn’t long after they woke that they started in on hurting me again. Anyone would think H was a sadist or something. They spent time scaring me by nearly biting my boob bruise, gently kissing it (which hurt, actually, just a lil’ bit) and actually biting my boob. I was a crooning, soppy mess. They moved on, feeling how wet I was. Running their fingers up and down my slit, rubbing my clit until I moaned and thrashed.

Then they stopped.

They did this a few times and I groaned with great frustration the last time. I wanted to come! Damn it. I’m not used to H not letting me come.

“When you want to come,” they said, “You’ve got to ask.”

My stomach flipped. Having to ask to come is something I fantasise about a lot but have never actually had to do in real life before. I was a little scared but mostly I was a whole lot turned on. My orgasms were at H’s mercy.

Then they leapt up and picked up the rope from the corner of the room and suddenly I was a whole lot more scared and even more turned on. They sat on the bed, and tied rope around my left thigh. Running it round, pulling it tight, making me squeal. They attached another rope to the bedhead then attached the thigh rope to that rope and pulled.  H knotted it, lifting my thigh and opening me to them. They repeated the rope work on my opposite side and soon both my thighs were swinging in the air, my cunt was exposed and H was swinging my legs from side to side with a determined look on their face.

The torture began. I’m a bit hazy on the details for what I hope are pretty obvious reasons. They varied the way they tried to make me come. They hit me with various evil hitty things, the one I bought for them being the first I remember and fingered me. They licked my cunt and nibbled my labia.  They ran their fingers over my slit and rubbed my clit until I howled.

They always stopped before I came anywhere close to coming.

Their knife came back out. I held my breath. They used it on my stomach, drawing a smiley face there.

They ran it down along my thighs. I felt them scratching at my skin, then they ran the flat of the blade ever so carefully over my cunt. The cold of the steel cutting through the wet heat of my flesh. I think I moaned. I know I was scared and I held myself so fucking still as the blade sat there for what felt like a long time but I’m sure was probably only a few moments really. I was so turned on, though. I felt even closer to coming.

The last thing they did was run the edge of the knife along the skin caught between the ropes on my left thigh. The light stinging of the blade elsewhere didn’t prepare me for the piercing scratch of the knife there, where clearly my blood was sitting closer to the skin. I roared. It hurt. I had no idea what they had drawn. Afterwards, I found out they’d carved an H there. Claiming me.

The knife went away then the torturing started again. Slaps with implements, heel of hand ran down my shin bone, their fingers inside me, on me, rubbing my G-spot then my clit and back again.

“Can I come?” I whispered, desperate and yet still not bold enough to demand.

They stopped and I groaned.

They restarted, the orgasm sat close to the surface and I was getting more and more desperate by the moment.

“Please can I come?”  I begged. They stopped for a moment. Then continued.

I sobbed their name, I was so desperate.

And from there on in I just begged and pleaded and I think in the end I was just repeating “Please.” Over and over and over again. I couldn’t think of anything else but that desperate need to orgasm.

“Come for me.” They say some fucking sexy things but oh, I think that was the sexiest.

I came. I came hard, I came fast, I came wetly. I moaned and shook and squealed and the orgasm kept rolling through my body.  They didn’t let up, I was gasping for air through the rolling orgasms.

Then H reached up and pressed down on my chest bone. Paingasm. Long, continuing paingasm. It was a different feeling, sharper and stinger more painful of course as this ecstasy came purely from the pain of them digging the heel of their palm between my breasts.

I was relieved when they let go. It didn’t last long. They fucked my cunt with their fingers. I clenched around them, felt my juices spilling from me. I couldn’t breathe between orgasms. I was no longer riding the bliss, I was tumbling under the waves.

I gasped and groaned, shouted their name.

“Please!” I begged.

“You want more?” They taunted, I heard the wicked delight in their tone.

“Nooooooo,” I whined. They just laughed and kept up their assault on my cunt. They used their other hand to hit me with various implements at times. The pain studding the pleasure but not making it any easier to bear.

“No. No,no,no,no, no.” I kept repeating it over and over and over as my sensitised pussy wept in need of a break. I sobbed. I sobbed and screamed and begged. ‘No!’ was the only word I knew any more. I was full of pain and pleasure and I couldn’t pull apart the two and I just needed to breathe again.

H stopped. I’m sure I sighed with relief and then sucked in all the oxygen as my cunt throbbed with the afterburn of So.Many.fucking. Orgasms.

“Good girl.” They said and I smiled sappily.

They gently stroked at my thighs as I got my breathing under control.  They asked me if I needed anything, kept checking I was okay. They went to unfasten me and I asked them to take some photos first. They did.

Then they hit me some more because, well, they could. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it though. They unfastened me from the ropes holding my thighs wide. I was happy to lie them flat once again.  I thought we were done with the mean. Then they started twisting and turning the rope that was still tied to my thighs and I was suddenly in a whole world of pain that was blasting out from a small spot on my thigh. It was crazy.

I think the worst was the rope between my toes. I hate anything between my toes. It was torture! My poor tootsies. I didn’t ask them to stop though.

Crazy masochist that I am.

We lay together for a while. Snuggled. Holding each other. Talking about fuck knows what. I wasn’t particularly articulate. Apparently I wasn’t making much sense at all. Well, would you if came so much your cunt ached from it? Exactly.

You know what? It was only afterwards, when I reached over to grab my drink that I realised. My hands were free. My hands had been free the whole time.At any point I could have used them to stop H well, at least try to stop H. But I didn’t. I think that might say an awful lot about me.

The experience was far better than the fantasy I wrote. Even if their Doxy hid so couldn’t be used. Their fingers most assuredly did the trick.

My cunt ached for days after. Just walking hurt.

What a wonderful reminder of the kindness of my sadist.

I might have to write them some more hints on my blog soon…

If you want to see the Photo H took of me after this scene check out my Tied wide Open Sinful Sunday post