The [F]irst of [M]any CNC Experiences

For most of my 20s, I was in a deeply loving but sexless and stunted relationship. So I suppose it shouldn’t have surprised me when, after we moved to LA together, the relationship collapsed. I was 27, reasonably good-looking, wealthy, I had only ever had vanilla sex, and I was broken-hearted. What’s a guy to do?

I went on a rampage, naturally. The last time I had been single was 2008, and the game had changed since then. I got on Tinder and Bumble and all the things. I fucked a dozen of my friends, and a couple dozen less-than-friends.

Early on in the rampage, I met Willa. She was the type of girl I had always assumed was out of my league, but there she was, agreeing to go on a date with me. Then another. Then another, what the hell? Then a fancy restaurant, then she was at my front door, then I pushed her inside, then sex on the kitchen floor, and then and then and then…

A few hours later, we were on my bed and she was monologuing about how her grandmother had survived a concentration camp, which was an odd story to hear while I could feel her drying on my dick, but life is all about new experiences, so what the hell. She paused and licked her lips.

“Do you know what my favorite part of tonight was? When you pushed me inside. I like that kinda thing, being pushed around a little. Do you like that?”

Being relatively new to all this and being overjoyed to have a girl who looked vaguely like Lena Paul in my bed, I would’ve agreed to anything. And I did. Yes, more. Let’s do more.

We started simply, spanking, choking, slapping, then escalating to pinning, struggling, non-consent, etc. Like the A student I always was, I took everything very seriously. I did research, I talked to people online, I studied exactly how to do all of this as safely and convincingly as possible. I worked as hard as I ever had.

And it paid off. Eventually, we were ready for a full on rape scene. I prepped independently, bought a bunch of shit, and told her nothing. All she knew was to keep a window of three days open.

First, I left a letter at her apartment, containing nothing but a printout for a reservation at a fancy ass hotel in Los Angeles, the kind of place with 360 views of the city and a hot tub (the Sofitel, for any other Angelenos). She checked in at the appointed time and waited.

And waited.

I didn’t come to her that evening, even though I spent most of it a few blocks away, my heart racing. I waited until 2 AM, until I knew, safely, that she was asleep.

I finally entered the suite, and she was dead asleep, lights off. She was still wearing lingerie, but had clearly gotten frustrated and washed off her makeup. She was fast asleep.

When I decided I was going to post this story, I texted her and asked what she remembered. She wrote back:

“When I was waking up I fr thought I was getting murdered. Like the first thing I remember was all this weight on me and being like guess this is me dying. Didn’t even know my clothes were off until you started fucking me which fucking hurt so bad (literally what I asked you to do so don’t worry) I actually liked it better when I was like pretending, the beginning was too scary but then we got into it and I was like begging you to stop and you were being all scary that was hot as fuck”

Here’s what I remember:

I remember seeing her stretched out on the bed. I remember mentally going over my safety checklist (dull knife, brace against the jaw while choking, safewords, etc.), I remember how her long ivory legs seemed like the brightest things in the room, I remember how flawless she looked at that moment.

First, a hand over her mouth. Then, my entire weight came down on her, pressing her into the pillows. The other hand in her hair, pulling hard. She yelped and started to struggle. I slapped her so hard my hand stung and it took all my effort to ignore it. Her cheek was pink, her hair was all over the place and she was starting to cry. Good.

A kind of coldness can come over you in moments like these. I was rock hard and the pain, the humiliation and the degradation came easily to me. Never out of control, but definitely not in my everyday mind.

I didn’t feel like waiting around, so as soon as I knew she was fully awake (enough to use her safe word), I slammed my cock into her as hard as I could. I’m not gonna claim to be huge, but at 7” I can make it hurt, and it sure seemed to hurt her. She went ballistic, struggling and squirming underneath me. Her muscles tensed and spasmed. She clawed and bit and hit me, but nothing worked, I just kept pistoning in and out of her tight little cunt.

Then came the humiliation. I started mocking her, telling her I thought she would be tighter, that I thought she’d have a better body, that she better make this worth it or I’d get rid of her. I made her beg me to fuck her. I made her thank me for raping her. I made her call me daddy. I called her my little fuckpig and I made her oink as I held her nose up. She cried through it all.

So far, it had all gone as we had agreed. One unexpected thing did happen, though. After I came in her the first time, I dragged her to her feet and threw her down on the floor. She looked amazing, wearing her ruined lingerie, tears running down her face, her ass fire-truck red. I was planning to make her eat out of a bowl while I fucked her ass, but used her safe word and stopped me.

I take safewords very seriously (obviously), so everything stopped dead. She shuddered on the ground for a while, then beckoned me over. I held her and looked out at Los Angeles, stretching out to the horizon. We talked for a while about her own history of abuse, about why she was into CNC, about how she found it healing. She cried, I cried. It’s one of my most treasured moments.

That didn’t, of course, stop me from absolutely wrecking her for the next two days straight, making her eat out of a bowl, taking her ass, ddlg roleplay, etc, etc.

Willa, ultimately, was the one who led me to becoming a semi-professional dom in LA for about 6 very strange months, doing almost exclusively CNC. With quarantine in place, I’m hoping to tell more stories, if y’all like this one. They get pretty intense.

Hope you enjoyed it, ya filthy animals. PM, etc. always open.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/hw15y2/the_first_of_many_cnc_experiences