|
His fantasy becomes my reality
Several years ago when I first met the man who is now my “plaything”, he was quite dominant, and it took me a few years to really capture him mentally. Back then he told me about something that had happened in a prior relationship he had for a brief time.
He had seduced the woman into BDSM play and fantasies, and she really loved it (and him), and was very submissive to him. They really pushed their play to the edge, and their fantasies even further. But the relationship began to decline for various other reasons (he said the “kinky sex” was still fantastic). He intended to leave, and she had realized that, and was unhappy about it.
One day when he went to her place and let himself in, she was standing on a chair, nude, hands cuffed behind her back, cuff key on the floor, and with a noose around her neck. It was cinched up tight to one of the eye-bolt’s he had put into the ceiling (normally she hung plant baskets from them for “camouflage”), no slack in it. If the chair went, she would be suspended well off the floor. He knew the bolt would hold her weight easily, it had been “tested” in some of their play.
He was stunned at first, but instantly, and highly aroused. He said he almost ejaculated right then and there. She said to him, “Do you want me to do it . . . I will if it will make you happy”. He was just frozen for a moment or two. He realized that if she did it, and he managed to leave with no neighbors seeing him, well . . . His fingerprints were all over the place (but it was known he was there very often), and only hers were on the chair, the cuffs, maybe the rope. He said it was all he could do to keep himself from kicking the chair out from under her and he wasn’t sure he would “save” her at the last moment . . . in his mind was the idea that he wouldn’t, he would just watch her last moments. He said it felt like several minutes that he stood and stared at her, although he later realized it was probably just a few seconds.
She said, “well ?”, and that seemed to break the spell for him. He simply turned and left, and left her there. He never found out what, if anything, happened; but he was sure he heard no sounds (the chair falling would have made some noise) as he left. And that was that . . . what a way to break off a relationship!
I know enough of him, and know him very, very well, and I’m sure this is a true story (and perhaps some of you have seen/heard of/experienced stranger things).
Even then, it was arousing to me (although pretty troubling, too), and since I’ve developed my “pervert side” even more over the last several years, it’s still arousing . . . but no longer troubling at all. But . . . my real fantasy now, is being able to set up something like that with him . . . my sub now. I’m not sure how far I’d let it go (hopefully not too far), but I’d love to find a way . . .
And if I could . . . I WOULD . . . someday I WILL . . . and THEN . . . ?
I can imagine entering my home and seeing him there on a chair, in exactly the position he described to me. I would handle things a little differently than he did however. I know he would be expecting just a bit of “play”, so he wouldn’t be really worried. I’d first get another chair, stand it next to his, and quickly slip a ball gag into his mouth and pull it in tight and deep. I have a harness-type gag with a very large ball, so he couldn’t manage to work it out. I think he might begin to worry then. I think I’d pull the rope up and fasten it so he had to stand on tiptoe, and I’d put a strap around his elbows and pull it tight, so his elbows were almost touching. That plus the cuffs he was wearing would keep his arms still. I’d suck him until he got extremely hard and tie a piece of cord tight around the base of his penis, and tight around his testicles, to keep him hard, erect and “on display” for me. Then I’d go into my bedroom. I believe he would be worried for sure now! Just that scene is so, SO arousing for me!
When I came out of my room later, I’d wear just my thigh-top dark nylons, my heels, and a smile (my usual “play clothes”). I would then call a few of my lady friends, just the 2 or 3 I know who would really enjoy this scene too. It turns out I’d have three guests for the evening, Debra, Leslie and Carrie, and they’re all very excited. He hears all the conversations, and now he IS worried. I love the look in his eyes when he wonders if I’ll “cross the line”. In this situation, I just might be tempted. It will take a while, maybe an hour, for my friends to arrive, so in the meantime . . .
My computer is in the living room, where he stands on the chair. I pull the small table it sits on around to where he can see the monitor (I have a nice-sized flat screen, so I know he can see it well too), then I move my nice, swivel/recline office chair around too. I go into my room again, and bring out another small table, set it where he can see it, and go back into my room for some “toys”. I bring out, and set on the table, my whips, riding crop, several vibrating eggs, and a small metal tray full of needles. I bring a couple of my vibrators too. I look at him and smile. Now he’s not just worried, he’s frightened. He is trying to struggle, but he knows he needs to be careful. He is trying to talk (beg me, I suppose) through his gag, but it’s in deep and secure, and all I can hear are squeals and grunts. I love those sounds! I watch him drooling down his chin onto his chest, and I can see he is already tired from standing on tiptoe, his strong leg muscles are quivering from the strain . . . already. His eyes are watering up and I can see the fear in them. But I’m not done with my “preliminaries” yet. I take the vibrating eggs and slide them into him, one at a time. When all seven are inside him, I go and sit in the chair by my computer.
I’m going to get “in the mood” by watching some of my videos from sites like captive male and men in pain, and looking at some pictures I have from even more extreme sites, and he’s going to watch me looking and watching (and watching him . . . his helplessness and vulnerability arouses me greatly) and stroking myself, and he’ll see me getting so, so aroused over those awful, extreme pics and vids I’m looking through. I wonder what’s going through his mind right then?
After a while I’m panting, wet and squirming, but I’ve kept myself from going all the way. I’m going to keep myself on edge for a while, and try for a big, BIG one at some point. I hear the doorbell, but before I go to open it I turn on the all the vibrating eggs I’ve stuffed him with, all at different speeds. He lets out the loudest squeal he can manage. I look at him and see he is close to tears (and he’s not a crier). I love it!
Over the next several minutes, everyone arrives. I offer some wine, and we sit, drink and visit a while. They’re all very interested in him, and in his precarious position. I explain that I’m not really sure how the evening will conclude, but we still have several hours for fun, we can decide later. I’m really not sure, but I’m so aroused, that I’m thinking, maybe . . . just maybe . . . ?
We visit, drink our wine, and relax as our entertainment squirms and whines. We note that he’s still very aroused. I wonder for a moment what his state of mind really is. He’s obviously frightened (this is far beyond any previous play), and possibly feeling his aroused state? I quickly realize I don’t care, it’s MY arousal I’m after tonight. His fear only arouses me more, and encourages my extreme thoughts. I say, “well ladies, here are some toys”, help yourself and enjoy yourself. I sit back to watch for a bit. My friends take the whips, crops and needles, to say nothing of hands, fingernails and mouths and go to work. His cries are constant now. After about an hour, I notice he is able to stand flat-footed on the chair, so I again tighten up the rope so he is forced back onto tiptoe. Everyone’s clothing has come off by now, and we are touching and kissing each other, but he is still our focus. And we continue . . .
It’s 3:00 am now, and I realize we started at about 8:00 pm. Wow . . . time flies when . . . (well, you know). He is pretty well abused, full of bruises, welts, cuts, scratches, teeth-marks. He’s a bit bloody in some places, and I note some of the needles are still stuck in him. I wonder how he is still standing, but I guess the self-preservation instinct is strong. I did have my BIG one, and several more besides, and I’ve still got a couple left, I’m sure. I can only think of one thing that would provide a bigger rush than what we’ve already experienced. All my friends are just about exhausted, we’re all dripping with perspiration. Without really thinking about it, I’ve come to a decision. I give everyone a strap-on (I have a nice selection of them), and we all put them on. As he watches us I see hope, first glimmering, then flaring in his eyes. I know he thinks, “it’s just play after all, they’ll fuck me, then she’ll let me go”. I walk up to him, look deep into his eyes, and say, “no dear, these are for AFTER”. He immediately grasps my meaning, and begins to shake his head NO (as much as he can) and moan. I see the pleading in his eyes, and I smile at him. I untie the cord around his penis, and begin to suck him and stroke him. When I can feel that he is close, I step back and put my nylon clad leg against the chair. Smiling at him (he is staring in terror at me), I slowly push it away.
There was no slack in the rope, so he doesn’t have far to drop. Good, I want it to last. We all gather around and watch him thrashing, bucking and kicking. It seems to last a good while. I wish I could see his face, his eyes, but his face is pulled by the rope to look at the ceiling. Of course his penis doesn’t disappoint. I’ve never seen such a powerful and massive ejaculation, and fortunately none of us was standing in the way. But . . . damn! I didn’t think this through, my carpet and my wall will need a serious clean-up. Now he is only twitching and shuddering, with just occasional desperate bucking and spasms. Finally he hangs still. Give it a few more minutes, I think, and say, “ladies, let’s have another glass of wine”.
Now it’s “after”, and we take him down and lay him across my table, face down, spreading his legs out to the side. He would never volunteer for penetration or obey a command to bend over for me, always had to be bound securely. Now no ropes are needed. I pull the vibrating eggs out of him. He’s ready for us. We take him, one after another, over and over again, and all get aroused again. I can see his empty, staring eyes now, and it’s arousing (but everything this evening has been). Finally we are all finished. I tie his ankles tightly together, and we hang him upside down by the ankles from the ceiling hook in my living room, where he was just hung by the neck. He looks just like a carcass hanging in a slaughterhouse. I get another buzz thinking that this is what I’ll see first thing in the morning (or whenever I finally wake up) It’s been quite an evening! My lady friends are exhausted, we all are, so I offer bed for the night. We’re too tired to even shower, so we all crawl into my bed (a California king, so it’s not as far-fetched as it might sound, there are just four of us) , as wet and slippery as sardines fresh out of the can, and fall asleep almost instantly. Before I sleep, I think, “tomorrow we’ll need to think about “disposal”, but I’m not worried, I’m sure we’ll think of something.