I was still gazing into Sarah’s eyes when Miss Z took position for her next round of assault. This time something was different, she was much more sensually motivated. Riding my cock reverse cowgirl style, she leaned back into what I could only describe as a yoga pose while I remained inside her. With her back resting on top of my torso, she gently ran her hands up the sides of my neck. I felt the gags buckle being unlatched and soon enough my mouth was free. Taking in those first few full breaths brought back that numb and tingling sensation across my face. My hair was pulled hard in lateral direction and before I could fully react, she had her tongue performing a dance around mine. This level of sensuality was new coming from her. The overall interaction was becoming more than I could handle. Me tied to the bed with this butt plug stretching out my virgin asshole. This sexual goddess taking me through a baptism by fire with various sexual techniques beyond my wildest imagination. Then there was the roommate. Sitting next to us, almost too quietly, observing the incantation of multiple orgasms. When the kissing stopped, I glanced over to see how Sarah was perceiving it. To my surprise she had removed her pants and was sitting there in her panties and a tank top. Her erect nipples were piercing through the white top and a visible wetness was showing through the grey cotton panties. Her hands massaged the inside of her thighs, occasionally digging in her fingernails to leave trailing lines of redness. Before I knew it, one hand worked it’s way under her top and started pulling on her nipples. The other descended downwards into her panties as she let out a series of soft moans. Our eyes connected once again and I felt the intensity of arousal which was emanating from her body. Suddenly I felt a sharp SMACK across my face, temporarily blurring my vision and disrupting the beautiful view I had previously. Then there was another. And another. Miss Z continued smacking me across the face, reminding me of the hopeless situation I had volunteered to be in. “Here you are staring off into the distance at my roommate and not paying attention to the task at hand. She is here for her own pleasure, not yours!” SMACK! SMACK! “And you are here for MY pleasure! Not hers!” SMACK! SMACK! My face was burning from the forceful impacts and I fought back tears which were ready to burst out. “Awww, did that hurt? It’s nothing compared to what I have in store for you. I’m going to slowly break you down into a sobbing little child by the end of tonight and you’re going to enjoy it every step of the way.” Was how she decided to comforted me. The next thing I felt was a line of kisses down the side of my neck, leading to her eventually sucking on my nipples and running circles around them with her tongue.
The sharp sting from her teeth clamping down on my nipple produced a loud, low pitch scream. She looked up at me and smiled before letting go. Now hovering over the opposite side, she let out a hot and humid breath which ignited the nerve endings, creating a hypersensitive state. She then switched to a cool blowing technique, perking up my nipple even further. Watching her lean in and kiss it only served as an anticipatory threat for what was to come. I watched as she performed pleasurable acts of worshipping, but was stuck in between a state of total arousal and dreading the inevitable pain which would soon be taking over. Surely enough, I was elevated to that state of mind where you try to block out all incoming sensations. Failing to resist the urge to yell out loud, knowing it would only add to the satisfaction of her sadistic side. It had occurred to me how she was using intense levels of pain to drastically back me away from the edge of an orgasm. I had to admit it was genius. Little did I know that this would be my formal introduction to orgasm denial. Have to admit, I really enjoyed it. There’s a lot of things I’ve experienced over the last few hours which I wouldn’t have ever dreamed of exploring otherwise. I’m feeling a sense of satisfaction overtaking this part of my brain which has always felt empty. The void of emptiness finally engulfing something large enough to counteract its gravitational pull on my mind. Maybe I’m a submissive? As I lay there contemplating these confound interpersonal ideals, Miss Z was leaning over to grab the set of tools which she would require for the following act.
She leaned in close, blocking out my view of what she had prepared and said “Close your eyes then point out the index finger on you right hand for me. I’m going to have you randomly pick an impact toy which will be used on you. Some aren’t so bad, but most… Most can be used to produce a lot of pain”. I knew something like this was coming. Letting out a sigh of frustration, I followed her directions and blindly wandered my finger around until it made contact. “Ahh, yes! You’re quite unlucky my friend. That is a small cane made from a very hard plastic. In fact, it’s probably the worst selection you could have made!” I laughed under my breath knowing that she must have expertly guided my hand exactly where she wanted it. Giving the illusion of choice and implanting the thought that I was the one who picked this form of torture. Very clever woman. She must have noticed my smiling because before I knew it there was a sharp stinging sensation lashing out across my chest. Letting out a loud moan which transitioned into a scream only led to another thrust of the cane, along with the return of her evil laughter. This continued on for a while and I could feel the lashes beginning to break the surface of my skin. She started bouncing her hips up and down again, creating a lovely mixture of pleasure and pain which overflowed throughout my entire being. “Mmmhmm, you love this don’t you? Being used like a little fucktoy? I’m blown away by your pain tolerance. It’s got me curious as to just how much you can handle.” Is how she broke the silence. Have to admit I was wondering the same thing. How much more of this torture laced with arousal could I handle? Was there an end point other than the inevitability of crossing over into the insanity of oblivion? She reached back and produced a leather flogger. Dragging the straps across the chest and down my stomach, mimicking the sensation brought on by a soft, sensual touch. Followed by a hard slashing of the leather straps across my chest. Then my stomach. The inner thighs. Every sensitive area was administered a punishment for no other reason than to appease her desires. The burning, stinging sensations soon transitioned into pleasure and I found myself close the edge of an orgasm once again.
She could sense my resistance, as always. Slowing down her hips movement and allowing my cock a moment to recover. “So you do like being tortured? Is that it?” I replied with a “Yes Miss Z… I love it when you torture me.” A loud cackle bellowed from her insides as she leaned in close to my face and seductively asked me a series of questions. “I want to try something which I feel you might enjoy. It’s a bit more intense than what we’ve been doing so far. I’d like to pierce your sensitive little nipples. Can only imagine the exquisite screaming moans which would follow. How about it? Think you could handle that?” I looked up at her with pleading eyes and felt the urge to cry knowing what my response would me. Defeated, I shook my head no. This produced a feeling of guilt for not fulfilling a request which would bring her pleasure. That scenario was just far too intense for me to handle during this initial submissive experience. She was persistent and modified her request. “Well what if I just carved a little ‘Z’ in your stomach then? It wouldn’t hurt as badly as a piercing and if at any time it comes too intense, you can always ask me to stop. How does that sound?” This burning desire inside of me to appease her possessed my mind and as if on autopilot I responded with a “Yes Miss Z, you can carve into me.” She was gleeful and giddy while jumping off of the bed and moving over to where she kept the needles. Working back over towards me, she settled into a comfy position on the bed. Putting on gloves and arranging alcohol prep pads along with gauze, she was ready to go. My mind reflected upon repressed memories involving the doctor as I heard the ‘poppin’ noise which followed as she uncapped the needle. I took in some deep breaths which helped in curtailing these thoughts. When I looked down she seemed like a child, excited to start using her coloring book. Except in this scenario the crayon was a syringe tip and the pages were my flesh. She initiated the torture session by asking if I was “Ready?”, to which I nodded in response. I felt the cool burning sensation of the needle piercing my skin and being slowly dragged across. My abdomen tightened up and I tried my best to breathe in a normal pattern as to not accidentally jab the tip in any further. Moaning under her breath, she etched out her ‘Z’ into my stomach. Effectively marking her property. To my surprise, this actually felt extremely erotic. My cock was in a fully erect state throughout the experience, which only affirmed her suspicions that I was in fact a dirty little pain slut.
She opened up an alcohol prep pad and glided it across the artistic incision. The burning sensation made me grit my teeth while she ensured me that it was to reduce the risk of infection. Either way, I knew that the painful effect alcohol had on the wound was producing further arousal in her. Dabbing it with gauze pads, I noticed her attention to detail in making sure she made the entire area dry. When she placed the needle down, I thought it was the end of this intense scenario. Instead, I was having the gag forced back into my mouth and strapped back into place. Breathing became rapid and irregular as I tried contemplating what was going through her mind. “I really want to pierce you and since you handled that so well it seems like you’re ready. Are you?” I shook my head no in fear from being abruptly gagged and propositioned in such a way. She was a very intelligent woman though and knew exactly how to control me. “Hmmmm. Well I know you absolutely love feet! Perhaps there’s some sort of deal we can make? I know you’ve been checking out my roommate’s feet. Sarah, how about you prop those sexy little things up here so he can get a good look at them.” Is how she baited me in. Sarah smiled and brought her feet up to a resting position on the edge of the bed. She scrunched her soles and then relaxed them, sending jolts of arousal throughout my entire body. I was awestruck by how beautiful and absolutely flawless they were. From the symmetrical descending length of her toes, to the pale wrinkly soles with splashes of pink which served as an aesthetical compliment. I was in a state of hypnosis, which is exactly what Miss Z was counting on. “Yes, you see? Very sexy, are they not? How about we make an agreement where you would be able to worship them all you want, but only after I get to pierce lets say… your chest? Wouldn’t they be worth just a little bit of pain?” I was caught up in the moment with the view of her roommate’s soles tempting me. We both already knew the answer would be yes. I nodded my head and felt a wave of fear rushing throughout my veins. It’s been a while since I’ve actually felt scared.
Miss Z went back to where she kept the needles and brought over the case which she kept them in. using an alcohol prep pad, she cleaned off the area on my chest which she was planning to use as a canvas for her artistic creations. Noticing that my cock was no longer fully erect made her sad. “Is somebody afraid?” She asked. I just stared with fear soaking through the whites of my eyes. She took my shaft and started caressing it, bringing me into a more relaxed state by saying “There, there, it’s okay. I wouldn’t have you try anything you couldn’t handle. A big, strong man like you.” I felt as if this woman was an expert at getting what she wanted in life. Slowly leading men along the predetermined pathway until she had them in her lair, at her total mercy. As I became more erect, she positioned herself on top and lowered her hips down, taking it all in and maintaining a rhythmic motion. Just as I was starting to feel pleasure overtake the fear, she pinched onto my skin and lined up the first needle. Initially I only felt the pop of it entering, followed by a similar feeling once it exited. A momentary state of shock before the pain came rushing in, overflowing like a river in a monsoon. I screamed until it blocked out all other noises, creating a dull high pitch buzzing background noise. Out of breath, I settled back down and tried to steady my breathing. She mentioned something about how beautiful my face looked in pain and before I knew it there was another needle lined up and ready to go. This time she took her time, slowly edging it inwards. I watched as the tissue bulged outwards before making an exit wound. Leaning back, simultaneously flexing every muscle in my body and attempting to escape far off into the depths of my mind was the only real option. Zoning out in this altered state of mind, I felt each and every one being slowly driven through the sensitive flesh of my chest. All the while her hips continued riding my cock in a rhythmic fashion, forcibly maintaining arousal throughout the entire torture session.
Seven needles later, I was fighting an internal battle for sanity. The rush of endorphins created an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and pain which my brain couldn’t fully process. This new found sensation was ruling over my entire being. Sending shockwaves of enlightenment cursed with a dark twist of fate. “Why the fuck am I doing this?” is the recurring question within my mind. Fully gripping her hands around my throat, she leaned in and asked me a question. “Can I pierce your nipples? Vertically? You’ve already got them done on the horizontal, so I know you can handle the pain…” I couldn’t have shaken my head ‘no’ any faster, to which she just threw her head back and giggled maniacally. “All right then, you little pussy, I’ll just have to find another way to break you.” Was her response, which at least allowed for a temporary moment to regain my long lost sense of clarity. All of her attention was then shifted towards edging me. Circling her hips around, transitioning into figure eights, then slowly rising to the tip and bringing it back down all the way. Feeling her pussy lips grip the base of my cock sent me right to the brink of an orgasm. I tried my best to stay in control, but it was only a matter of moments before my will to withstand this sensual assault gave way to the inevitable. Then something happened. The most terrifying experience of my life. Leaning in to embrace me, her bouncing breast came into contact with the exposed needle tips sticking out of my chest.
Miss Z leaned back and shouted in pain. Holding on to her punctured breast tissue while fresh streaks of red began streaming downward, creating a contrast to her pale white skin. Her eyes turned cold and black as night. I felt as if there was another person, or being, which was taking over in that moment. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” was the only thing I could make out before getting rocked by that first, fully clenched, fist to the face. The world through my eyes immediately had a bright white light overtake all visual and audio components. A sweet, soft silence was finally found and inner peace was in my grasp. Then came another full fisted punch to snap me out of it. The flight or fight response kicked in heavily, but all I could do was pull on the restraints and scream through my gag. Once the onslaught slowed down, my vision returned with distinctive blurs. As I came back into full focus, I could see she firmly held a cane above the area on my chest where all of the needles were artistically inserted earlier. They were arranged in a straight design, about half an inch apart and ran from the top of my chest down to just above my left nipple. She locked eyes with me and said “You did that on FUCKING PURPOSE!” and on the hiss of the ‘s’ at the end of that sentence, she wound up and struck the cane simultaneously across the central aspects of all 7 needles. The thin layer of skin between the piercings and focal impact of the cane felt as if it all just tore apart. I let out cry which exhausted my body into a tonic state afterwards. She followed it up with another strike to the tender area of my chest, breaking my mind in to pieces. This new level of pain had never been felt before. I had to separate my mind from the body in order to think clearly, producing an experience of epic proportions. Essentially, my mind was floating above and takin in all aspects of this predicament. Although overwhelming, the split second to think clearly allowed me to retain information from earlier the restaurant. The safe word is red. THE FUCKING SAFE WORD IS RED! Remembering this, I started to scream the safe “RED! RED! RRREEEEEEDDDDDDDD!!! FUCKING REEEEEEEEEED!”, which was being muffled behind the gag.
Fortunately, she stopped. A sense of panic, violation, biological hazard, psychological destruction and overwhelming anxieties started racing through my veins. I started to cry. Can’t really explain the emotional collapse I was feeling in that moment. The hours of physical and psychological torture had finally pushed me over the edge. Tears rushed down my face as I started to asphyxiate behind the gag, a mixture of blood and snot clogging up the nasal passage. Miss Z noticed and quickly removed the gag. Taking in deep, irregular gasps, I worked my way through a very intense panic attack. Convulsions shooting through every muscle. Pieces of my mind slowly coming back together after feeling as if they were spread across the universe. The two women started rubbing my body, noticing the potential signs of shock. Slowly unstrapping me, they took precautions when in close proximity to the exposed needles piercing through my chest. Miss Z and her roommate were arguing in whispers, with Miss Z not wanting to take any blame. Then she screamed at me “It was your fault! You hit my breast with the needle tips!” which led to me responding with “WHAT? I was strapped to the fucking bed and you were riding on top of me!?” To which her roommate Sarah agreed with, in a very ‘matter of fact’ tone. Once the awkward silence passed, Miss Z produced a first aid kit. Sterilizing the needles with alcohol dipped cotton swabs to kill any potential bacteria, she slowly removed each and every needle. They were slightly curved from the cane’s forceful impacts, sending a ptsd like flash of pain throughout my psyche. After bandaging it up, she left the bedroom to retrieve food and water, continuing on with the post care routine. I was sitting there on the bed with Sarah who was continuing to assist in calming me down. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Was the first full sentence she had said to me throughout this entire night. I immediately thought of something which would bring about a familiar pleasant sensation. “May I rub your feet? It’s extremely relaxing for me.” was my response, which made her smile and look downwards at her freshly pedicured toes. Slowly sliding them towards me, she smiled and said “I did get them done today, so they’re all nice and smooth… Do you like French tips?”. Happiness started soaking through my spine with that magical feeling you get when excessive levels of serotonin are rapidly released. Taking one of her feet in my hand and raising it up slightly produced a perfect view of her flawlessly sculpted soles. Her arches were a porcelain white, which transitioned into a pink pastel coloration around the areas which bear weight. I started to massage her foot, digging my thumbs in deeply to tenderize the musculature, which produced a loud and extended moan. It was at this point in time I realized that her other foot had snuck into position. Using the arches of her toes, she slowly went back and forth over the tip of my cock. Stopping only to sensually squeeze it. I leaned in and began kissing her other sole, resting my nose on the curves of her toes to inhale the hypnotic pheromones caught in her scent.
The door flies open and surprise, surprise, it’s Miss Z. She’s pretty upset with me, once again. “Well, well, well… I leave you alone for two seconds and my room mate’s toes are in your mouth! Such a little foot slut! You better not have cum yet, because if I remember right, you still didn’t get permission.” She said in a tauntingly teasing voice. I just smiled, realizing that I still haven’t gotten off yet. “Well I’m the one who decides when you get to cum, but I think you’ve suffered enough pain for one night. I want you to lay back down on the bed and let us take care of you.” So I did what I was told, while also very suspicious of her words. She leaned down and looked up into my eyes. “You should feel lucky, because there aren’t many men I do this for.” As she began circling her tongue around the tip of my cock, I could feel her hands taking strategic positions. One was caressing my balls while the other was wrapped around the base of my cock, rotating it into the orbit of her tongue. Then she takes in the entire tip and shows off her skills even further. I’ve never felt this level of oral expertise before. “There we go. Nice and thick now.” She smirked. Leaning over to the night stand, she grabbed a condom and started unwrapping it before applying it to my throbbing cock. Positioning herself into a reverse cowgirl stance, she turned to look at Sarah. “I want you to sit on his face and smother him while I slowly bring his ass to the edge.” Sarah just smiled and nodded, moving herself into a position where she was kneeling with her pussy just out my tongue’s reach. As they both settled into place, I could finally taste the essence of Sarah’s clit just as Miss Z was bottoming out on my cock. Entering into a mesmerized state of mind, I grabbed onto Sarah’s butt and spread it out wide, giving me full access. Leaning my head back, I ran my tongue all the way from the top of her clit, to the tip of her ass cleavage. She let out an affirming “Mmhmm!” which faded away into a moan. So I started circling with my tongue, kissing that area just below her pussy. She then grabbed my wrists and held them away, bringing down her voluptuous ass to fully encompass my face. I continued to worship her clit and pressed my nose inside of her pussy, giving up on any thoughts of escaping this predicament. Just then I heard Miss Z say “You may come!”.
It took a moment to register, but then my mind started to fast track the sequence of initializing an orgasm. Everything was put into hyperdrive, protruding veins and taking my breath away. An overwhelming sense of release sent me into an extremely heightened sexual state. Moaning out in ritualistic ecstasy to the god of sex, proclaiming to the heavens my work of art as it’s being created. This action only seemed to reverberate Sarah’s clit and served as a positive reinforcement for her to continue smothering my face. As Miss Z started feeling my cock pulsating inside her, with shot after shot of cum coming in rapid progression, she couldn’t help but lean back to take in every last inch of it. This ultimate release following just over 6 hours of continuous sexual edging combined with physical and mental torture techniques was absolutely mind blowing. As I came, it felt like my entire body was becoming one with the universe. Atom by atom, I was dissolving away from the world while simultaneously being reunited with a higher sense of purpose. A warm buzzing sensation overtook me and I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. Then the world went dark for a moment. I came back to reality with my face covered in Sarah’s cum and Miss Z removing the condom while wearing that same devilish grin she used to seduce me. Parts of me felt numb, along with the sensation of being extremely light headed. There was also a faint tingle that ran throughout the entirety of my body. “You really filled this thing up!” Miss Z joked. “I have to say I’m rather impressed. Not just with this, but with everything. Never thought in a million years you’d last that long with me.” I felt very complimented and proud of the endurance factor which was put on display throughout the course of the night. We started talking and about the little details which were our favorites. Mine revolved around being bossed around by a confident woman, being spanked and made to worship her feet in a teasing form of humiliation. Secretively, my favorite part of the night was when Sarah surprised me with her toes on my cock. A pleasantly pleasurable interaction hidden away in this night of intense expansions within the realm of limitations. Eventually, we all cuddled up together and decided to call it a night. With these two beautiful women on either side of me, I felt warm and protected.
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Unfortunately experiences like these tend to leave scars. I was uneducated on the effects which may commonly follow an intense bdsm session. A severe depressive episode which is hallmarked by a drop in your mental and physical state of well-being. The concept known as sub-drop was all too real for me in the weeks which followed. The way my mind started piecing things together made me feel as if I had been severely taken advantage of. The levels of anxiety had become unbearable and affected every area of my life. At this moment, seclusion became the new norm since there wasn’t really anyone I felt comfortable enough with to talk with about this experience. How do you explain to someone that you were sexually tortured for hours on end and enjoyed some of it, but may have also developed ptsd from the other things that happened? The amount of confusion it created emotionally was probably what drained the most from my daily life. You just can’t help but sit there and think about it all. Every last little detail. Relive the experience in an attempt to conquer the fear it instilled. Breathe through the memory of being pierced and punched and broken. Try to forget the sounds of Miss Z laughing while my mind separated into molecules. What helped me get over this traumatic series of events is by looking at all of the good which was hidden in the background. The experience helped further my understanding of what it meant to be a good dominant, via knowing what it feels like from a submissive perspective. While in control, our main focuses should always be safety and maintaining a certain level of cognizant comfort. These are only possible through the development of communication skills and understanding each other’s body language. There are many individuals out there who only seek to use you as a tool for their end goals. Many bolster themselves as self-proclaimed dominants, when in fact they are merely using the term as a guise to hide behind while committing heinous acts of abuse. Focusing these disturbing actions upon trusting and naïve individuals, so they can be easily gaslighted afterwards and guilt tripped into compliance. People like this are far more common than you think. My experience with someone like this led to seeking a psychologist to help sort out all of these fractured emotions. The overall desire to experience submission was also rearranged during this interaction. Where once I could get off on the thought of receiving sensual dominance, now my submissive side only craves being sadistically tortured and humiliated.
The purpose of this writing is to provoke certain questions within newcomers to the lifestyle. It’s important to gauge someone’s honest opinion in regards to your emotions and base your decisions off of rational psychological determinations developed form multiple interactions, instead of rushing in and missing an abundance of red flags along the way. A dominant who respects your wishes and predetermined limitations is essential when exploring. Something which many people don’t realize is that submission is a compassionate and sensually igniting gift. It should only be given to someone special and we must remember that it can always be taken away at any moment in time. Thus, making a submissive the true one in control through the foundational concept of consensual enlightenment. While getting to know someone new and eventually discussing a prospective D/s relationship, repetitively ask yourself:
“Does this person deserve my submission?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/p36qqk/exploring_my_submissive_side_part_ii_femdom_mf