THAT CNC story [FM]

*I’ve written and rewritten this so many times. It’s hard because I’m afraid of assumptions that will be made and what it might trigger. After a lot of thought, I am posting because I also think it’s important to understand what CNC looks like in reality.*

*The person in this story remained my best and dearest friend for years. He was at my wedding, damn it. I even texted him this before posting.*

*All the damn TWs. This shits gets dark.*

So someone asked for my CNC stories. I wrote one a couple days ago about “experimenting.” It was very important to me that I wrote that one first and I went through the process of communicating through CNC. Also the first time I engaged in this kind of sex, it was actually my partner who really struggled with it and needed a lot of aftercare.

*Just read it if you haven’t- it’s not hard to find on my profile.*

Anyway, this one gets a little darker. I almost didn’t post it because it gets so dark I’m legit afraid of it being upsetting.

All that is to say it is very important to me that y’all know this was consensual. I wrote out fantasies a lot and we talked through specifics of what we were both comfortable with. I had known this person for years and we were VERY experienced in BDSM and knew each other’s limits. We safeworded each other a lot.

*Please, please don’t do this without an established relationship. Idk. I don’t want to judge but I just cannot imagine this being ok with both parties without a lot of communication and experience.*

So yes, one day my partner and I decided to practice CNC. We had done it three times in the past and I had written out a scenario, but we didn’t specifically plan on which night. When I walked into his apartment (I had flown in), I got up on his counter and he tried to kiss me. I pushed him off and told him to back off.

He asked what was wrong and I told him I did not want to fuck him.

“Are we in a fight or are you my sub right now?” He asked.

“I’ll never be your sub. You’re disgusting.”

He approached me and told me to safeword him. I responded by slapping him.

*So fun fact: I did not slap him. It made him angry (not in a fun way). Even though we had discussed me doing this, he got visibly upset to the point I got a little freaked out. I very rarely actually saw him mad at me.*

“Um… so we need to stop?” I asked sincerely.

“Slap me again,” he said.

I paused and just stared at him.

*I KNOW he would never hurt me. I know that. But bro, having someone twice your size hover over you like that is fucking scary. I don’t care if you know it’s role play. I just started shaking.*

He got very close to me until our eyes were inches away. “Viola, either safeword me or slap me again.”

*Oh dear, you used my real name during sex. Apparently this was serious.*

For a few seconds we stared at each other and then I reared my hand back and slapped him. The impact was so intense the sound rang through his apartment and it would indeed leave a bruise.

I think “animalistic” is how I would describe his face. He fucking smiled at me as he took a few deep breaths.

*Ok, this is why trust is key. I had known this dude for two years. We had had fucking crazy sex, but this shit is fucking scary. Could I have stopped it at any time? Of course. It’s still freaky.*

In one motion he took both my thighs with his two hands and ripped me from the counter. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening before he had turned me around and slammed me against the kitchen counter.

*Awww, I could smell the cleaner. He had cleaned his house in anticipation of my visit. Absolutely adorable.*

He wove both his hands through my fingers and threw his entire body weight on me.

“Fight me,” he said.

I used every muscle in my body to try to twist out of his grip and barely moved an inch.

*I mean, he was fucking huge.*

Annnnd, he laughed at me.

*Again why trust is key. Being laughed at when you’re physically restrained by another person does some shit to your head.*

I started crying and I groaned and fell back to the counter.

“Try again,” he laughed.

I tried twisting but his weight was on me. I tried kicking but I couldn’t find the right angle. I even tried biting but he was holding me down too tightly.

I cursed him a million times as I started crying harder. I tried to spit on him and it barely landed a few inches on the counter. He also found this amusing and told me to lick it up. I struggled again, but he held my face to the tile with his forehead until I finally licked my own saliva from the counter.

*So it’s a good thing he cleaned, I suppose.*

“Keep trying to get out,” he told me.

I was tired though. I think I tried to push back again, but it was half-hearted. This takes way more out of you physically than you can imagine.

*I’m going to pause. If we sound fucked up, it’s because we were. The two of us both had some SEVERE trauma and this helped us disengage. However, not everyone who engages in this type of sex has some dark past. I’ve met plenty of happy souls who enjoy CNC. There are a lot of ways to unpack this, but I’ve landed on a healthy outlook- and trust me in that I wouldn’t be writing this if I hadn’t. So even though the two of us have issues, that doesn’t mean this kind of sex is inherently messed up, or that we were messed up for having it.*

He again told me to keep going and I just shook me head. Bro, I could have fallen asleep. He finally let me have a hand free so he could put one hand in my hair and hold me down to the counter until my face was smushed against the tile. “I want you to keep fighting.” He told me.

I threw my head back and with my free hand tried to reach around and scratch him. He laughed at me again as he held me down.

“Just do it,” I finally sighed.

“Do what?”

“Whatever it is you’re going to do.”

“What if this is what I want to do?”

“Fine then,” I let my body go limp. “Just hold me down.

“No, I want you to keep fighting.”

“I can’t.”

He pulled my hair until I screamed and then tried to rear back again. “Looks like you can.”

So I kept struggling. I’m not even sure how long this went on, but by the time he was done I honestly just wanted to sleep.

“There’s something wrong with you,” I muttered.

*I think this is one of the rare times when I did actually feel angry at him in the moment. But I wasn’t actually angry at HIM I was angry the person he was right then and who I was. This is why I have so many disclaimers in my past post. I had given him full permission for this but I was still having feels.*

*I want to reiterate that I could have stopped it. I had stopped this man halfway through his cum and he had obeyed immediately. This is not that kind of story.*

“There’s something wrong with you too,” he panted behind me.

“Just fuck me or whatever.”

“You’d like that huh?”

“I’d like for this to stop.”

“Safeword me.”

“Fuck you.”

“If I let you up you’ll do whatever I want?”

I think I just have an affirmative groan.

He pulled me up by my hair and basically dragged me to the his bedroom.

“Get on your knees.”

I collapsed. I could barely get his pants down.

“Look at me while you do it,” he growled.

I could barely do it, but I tried. It was possibly the worst blowjob I’ve ever given. Even when he put his hand on the back of my head and pushed me down, my muscles were so tired I couldn’t deep throat correctly and almost choked.

“Damn it,” he said. “Fucking slut can’t even suck dick.”

*Later I got myself off to this statement. I’ve thought of it many times and found it hot.In that moment though? I just cried.*

“Lay back then,” he told me. I did and let him undress me. I was fucking useless and just laid back after each article of clothing came off.

I let him touch me then. Occasionally he would come to a sensitive spot that would invoke some kind of reaction but I was pretty fucking quiet.

When he bit my nipple I cried out and tried to get away. “Maybe I should hold you down again.” So I just stayed still and cried as he fondled me and played with my nipples. He bit them, twisted them, and moved them in between his fingers. I cried but didn’t fight him.

*Im going to say this here- at this point I was not actually very turned on. I had taken too much and was too tired to really feel or appreciate the pleasure of it.*

“You’re exhausted,” he said.

I just moaned.

“I really could do whatever I wanted to you right now.”

I nodded.

“Hey V open your eyes real quick.” When I did he was inches away. “I need to make sure you’re not actually passing out.”

“I’m not passing out,” I groaned.

“Tell me to keep going.”

“Fuck you.”

“I don’t know if I can keep going unless you tell me.”

“Then safeword me, asshole.”

“Damn you,” he said as he pushed my head to the side so it pressed against his carpet. “You’re such a stubborn little bitch.”

*Yes, this is the point that you’re like, “Why, V? Just safeword him!” Because sometimes this is what it looks like. So sit back and take it.*

He didn’t even finger me like he usually did. He just forced himself inside of me.

I was barely even wet I was so tired and it hurt like fucking hell. That sure as fuck brought me back to life. I struggled again and he held me down as he pushed himself inside me over and over.

I cursed him and tried to bite him but he smiled as he kept going. The worst part was when my body started responding.

“You’re such a stubborn little whore,” he said as he railed me.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Your cunt doesn’t.”

I didn’t hate him and I was actually finally feeling pleasure here. And after all the struggle the buildup was intense.

“Damn it, don’t fucking come. This is not for you.”

I truly, honestly laid back and tried not to come, but I was building fast.

“Ok fine,” he flipped me over so I was literally just face down on his floor. “Tell me you don’t want it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Tell me you hate me.”

“I hate you.”

“Tell me you won’t come because you don’t want it.”

“Why don’t you just not fuck me then?”

“Someone’s cranky.”

*Bro, the first time I wrote this, I left this part out. Things got a little dark. He had always said super dirty things in bed but not like what came next. The fact that I was on the floor, facedown and not moving made it worse.*

Basically, he stuck his fingers inside of and made me tell him my pussy belonged to him. He said he hated how wet I was and started fingering my ass because it would hurt me more. He made me tell him that it belonged to him too.

And things got weirder…

He said a lot of things about how I was only good to fuck. That he controlled me and that I was always going to do whatever he wanted. He told me my body existed for him and he could hold me down and do anything he wanted.

I was so exhausted I didn’t argue. I just let him keep going for probably close to half an hour. At this point I was getting sexually frustrated and kept teetering between crying and wanting to sleep.

*Do yall see why I was hesitant to write this?*

I finally tried to make some remark but he slammed into me and I cried out before anything could come out. He spanked me over and over while he fucked me. At first I hit the ground with my fists but eventually I was too tired for even that act of protest. I think I even tried to crawl away, but it just took one hand pushing me down before I collapsed.

I just took it.

It was the only time he ever fucked me that I honestly just took it like that. No protest, no reaction, nothing. He kept telling me to take it too. He told me not to dare struggle as he got off.

But… bodies have a way of reacting. When he sped up I felt myself whimper with pleasure. I was so exhausted I didn’t even want to come.

“I told you not to come.”

“I don’t even want to,” I cried.

But I did. I couldn’t help it. And the feeling of my orgasm brought him to the edge too.

This might seem condensed reading, but this was like two hours of fucking. Do you know what two hours of CNC does to your body? Fuck, I still remember the release. It was horrible and beautiful.

He collapsed on me immediately and flipped me over to face him. We were both crying. I don’t remember saying anything. I just woke up hours later to him moving me to bed and curling up behind me.

*This is going to be a weird part to include. I don’t fucking care. Skip it.*

We woke up the next morning both naked and sore AF.

“I need to talk to you,” he said before I barely had my eyes open.

“Ok…?”

“I don’t think I can do that again. I’m so sorry.”

I started laughing hysterically. Every time I tried to talk I started laughing again.

“Did I finally break you?” He asked.

I was laughing so hard I was crying. “Bro, I can NEVER do that again. Like physically I don’t think I’m capable.”

“Oh thank god.”

Then we were both laughing. “I seriously never thought I’d reach your limit,” I laughed.

“I never thought I’d reach yours! You’re crazier than me.”

“Dude, do you remember the things you said last night? I think you’re crazier.”

“Don’t remind me. I think I’m a fucking psychopath.”

I kissed him. “You’re not a psychopath. You’re actually a really wonderful person.”

*He was. I want y’all to know that.*

We talked shit out. We actually had a break from rough sex after that and just fucked super vanilla for a bit. We got bored and eventually reincorporated control back into the game (and eventually did get quite rough and even some light CNC), but we NEVER got that intense again. Like not even close.

The next day I read his thesis. He read my law school debate outline. We got drunk together and bought each other books. I held him when he had a bad phone call and he held me when I found out I didn’t get the job I wanted.

I added all this to say, please don’t judge this story or anyone in it. We deeply, deeply cared for each other. We consented to everything. I respect him and I promise he would say he respects me the same way if you asked.

You know, we just got a little weird.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/sieq53/that_cnc_story_fm