I think I need to attend yoga classes to improve my posture! I felt very self conscious and very exposed performing those positions and as a consequence I think they may not have been up to par in his mind and in truth my own.
I do not know how he felt about this part of the session, though I am sure he would not have held back in criticising if he were unhappy, nevertheless he did say that my legs were not open wide enough. In my defence I have a lifetime of modesty and inexperience to fight against, but I hope that in time I will be able to perform in the manner he expects of me.
Acceptance of pain was another topic that he had listed on his training schema. This “acceptance” took place on the bedroom floor. I remember kneeling on the bedroom floor, no clothes, not even a pair of knickers and he approached me with a bag containing plastic pegs. He put the bag down on the bedside chest and took out a few of them.
At the time this seemed harmless in comparison to what toys he could be bringing. Pegs, just ordinary washing line plastic pegs, although you wouldn't believe just how evil these household items can be. There are so many varieties of pegs and they all clamp down differently, some have more pressure and some have grooves. My knowledge of pegs stems from repeatedly using them on my nipples, especially in conjunction with my vibrator.
Speaking of my vibrator, it wasn’t actually with me yesterday, foolish girl, but then he didn’t suggest I could take it with me and besides, I do enjoy pain without sexual stimulation.
I should have been calm about this, nevertheless I felt quite concerned that he had three pegs in his hands and it didn’t take me too long to figure out where the third would go. There were two places that I could imagine, the first being my tongue and the other which seemed more likely and possibly the worst place to put it, my clitoris.
I was not surprised when he said that he wanted to put it there and assured me that it needed to be on there for a minimum of five minutes. His commands were simple and imparted in such a softly spoken voice that I complied without any hesitation. I stood up slowly and clambered up, inhaling the fresh scent of the linen as I crawled across his bed. He had freshly aired white linen on his wrought iron bedstead with four matching pillows and as I lay down on top of the quilt cover, he pushed all of the pillows on to the floor. I assumed the star position as he had instructed and stretched out my arms and legs as wide as I could. I felt him wrap and secure the leather cuffs around my ankles and wrists, though the cuffs were already connected to the four corners of the bed.
His hands came around the back of my head and he ordered that I lift my head up while he covered my eyes with a blindfold. I could hear him walking around the bed and I felt him touch my left hand, left foot and seconds later he swivelled around the other side of the bed to check my right foot and hand. I felt incredibly nervous, I was at his mercy and even though I trusted him, I couldn’t help feeling aroused despite my nervousness. I felt his warm breath touch my ears as he whispered, “You will be fine. I will not give you more than you can take.”
Naked, restrained and unable to see, my desires were growing as he continued to gently pull on what little hair I had down below. Sadly my pleasure was to be short lived as it didn’t take him long to attach a peg to my clitoris. I felt it clamp down so tightly, the pain was incredibly intense. I desperately wanted to ask him to remove it and he knew I wanted to, though I did not beg him despite my obviously low tolerance of the pain I was enduring. When he finally took the peg off, the pain became considerably worse because of the blood rushing back in. The peg seemed to have bonded to my flesh and it left the grooves imbedded. I can still feel that sensation now.
This was the sort of pain that a masochist would enjoy. Masochism is by my definition, the gaining of pleasure from pain, whether that is as a result of physical or emotional pain. I am still reluctant to classify myself as a masochist, but by my own definition I am. Where my pleasure was in this is not well understood, though I believe that it is submitting to his will.
He removed the blindfold and I opened my eyes, it took some time for my eyes to adjust to the light. Sebastian was sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked and through hazy eyes I observed that he had picked up a condom packet and was un-wrapping it next to me. I could not sit up to see properly, but I knew that he was sliding the condom on to him.
I was quite concerned as to where he was going with this. He knows about my limits, he knows I am not ready for sex in that way.
He clambered on top of the bed and straddled me, I was still restrained and I couldn’t move. I looked up at him, though he was not looking at my face, his eyes were focussed on my breasts and he moved down to the lower half of my body.
Sebastian was visibly aroused, I remember how panicked I felt, was he about to take me?
He put his fingers inside me and I felt the moistness and the distinct sound indicated how aroused I actually felt. My body wanting to bear down on his fingers, I wanted my clitoris rubbed. Instead he pulled his fingers away and I felt him next to me, I felt his manhood rubbing up and down.
I looked at him, hoping he would see the concern in my face, but he didn’t, so I said something. I had to and so with pleading in my voice I uttered the words, “Sir, please don’t.” I was not ready for this, though at this point I couldn’t say when I would be.
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Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/2io04m/unconventional_desires_excerpt_bdsm_romance_ds_mf