#co-topping
We all moved to Reaction Junkie’s room when his roommate came home. Cunt Destroyer accidentally left her phone in the living room, and she and I made Reaction Junkie go fetch it, even though his ankles and hands were still cuffed, making it difficult. A little while later, Cunt Destroyer’s partner arrived, and we all talked and oohed and awww-ed over the kitten. At one point during the conversation, Cunt Destroyer’s partner pulled a knife out of his pocket and started playing with it a bit, really just turning it around in his hands. It turned me on in a big way and I had a very difficult time not staring at him. There aren’t many things much sexier than a guy playing with knife. I need to ask some partners to pull knives on me and threaten me with them sometime soon.
One of the things that is equally, or possibly more, sexy happened while I was on the bed with Reaction Junkie, my head resting on his legs. I said something sassy and he moved one leg to the other side of my neck and started squeezing, choking me with his legs. It was super effective and I got fuzzy and calm. And turned on, of course. He did it a couple of times, and I really enjoyed it. There’s another thing I want more of and will definitely need to ask for.
While we were all hanging out in the bedroom, I found myself amused/turned on by being a lil’ bit dommy towards Reaction Junkie. When he would say something I didn’t like, found annoying, or was pretending to dislike or find annoying, I’d give him a nice, firm hair grab. He makes a lovely little sound, like a combination of a sigh, a gasp and a whimper. In addition, when I flipped the script from what he’d been doing earlier in the weekend and told him, “Kiss me,” he started responding, “Yes, sir.” Although it might have been a bit of a joke initially, I’m pretty fucking into it.
The Unknown Quantity showed up partway through the afternoon, which I was excited about. He’s a lot of fun, and I was happy to get a chance to spend more time getting to know him. I’d been feeling pretty gross most of the day, so I told Reaction Junkie that I wanted to take a shower. He told me that I had to get undressed there in his room, with everyone around, not in the shower. It didn’t bother me, since half the people there had already seen most of my body, but it did turn me on a bit to be made to strip in front of everyone. Both because of the exhibitionism, but also because everyone saw Reaction Junkie order me to do something. I like when my d/s-y dynamics are on display for everyone to see, especially when I’m being a good little cunt and obeying. I got naked, causing The Unknown Quantity to comment that he hadn’t expected this within five minutes of showing up, but that he probably should have. I giggled and headed to the shower.
When I got out of the shower, I dried off and went back into the bedroom. I lounged naked on the bed with The Unknown Quantity for a while. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping for a little more play that weekend. And, well, LFB gets what LFB wants. In fact, I got more than I bargained for, with a bit of co-toppiness from The Unknown Quantity and Reaction Junkie.
While I was just innocently lying in bed, The Unknown Quantity started hurting my thighs. I was still sensitive from the day before, so I started squirming around. Reaction Junkie came over and helped, both by holding me down so that I couldn’t try to push The Unknown Quantity off or cover myself, and by getting me to behave, since I’ve got extra motivation to follow his instructions, given that he’s my owner.
Reaction Junkie had a “”“fun”“” idea and grabbed some buckyballs. For some reason, I was really freaked out by the idea of having the magnets used on me, and I got really whiny and started struggling more earnestly. Reaction Junkie had to use a voice with me, which was controlling and hot. “Put your hands on top of your head.” When I didn’t comply, The Unknown Quantity grabbed my thigh and dug in hard with his nails. I yelped and, shaking, placed my hands where I’d been told to place them. Reaction Junkie leaned over and put the buckyballs on my ear. I was relieved, since I thought he’d been going for the nipple, and I realized they didn’t hurt anywhere as much as I thought they would.
I was just relaxing into the slight feeling of pressure when Reaction Junkie moved to do my nipple. I started making noise and moving around more, and he had to use a voice with me again. He said, “[LFB], shut up.” and I got quiet. And turned on. I like being told to shut up like that, with that tone. He put the magnets on me, and it hurt less than I thought it would. He added more, increasing the pressure and the pain until he finally took them off, which made me wince.
I wasn’t done yet, though. The Unknown Quantity grabbed the kitten and put her on my thigh. Her little kitten claws dug into my bruised skin and hurt, but I had to stay still so I wouldn’t scare her or hurt her. I’d been using one of those head scratcher massager things earlier, and The Unknown Quantity grabbed it. He played with the kitten with it for a little while, and then started running it along my inner thigh. I tried not to move too much, as the thing scratched and poked. Finally, the kitten ran off to do something else, and I thought I might escape. To the contrary, The Unknown Quantity turned the head scratcher around and dug the pointy tip of the handle into my sensitive bruises. It hurt like fuck. He pushed it in hard, and it was all I could do not to cry out. He continued hurting me until it was time to head out to dinner.
Note: I know this is a month late. Sorry! I’m working on catching up, but I’ve been so busy at work and socially.
I had plans to grab dinner with MLAM and Reaction Junkie before the Tuesday happy hour. MLAM and I were to meet about an hour before Reaction Junkie would show up, and have a little time to walk around and catch up one on one. As I rode the train to meet MLAM, I started feeling very nervcited. I hadn’t seen him in months, and we hadn’t talked much lately. When the train stopped, I walked slowly over to the escalator and took a deep breath before getting on. I looked around as I rode up, wanting to spot MLAM. I stepped off, turned, and saw him. I gave him a big hug and he picked me up, grinning. I felt my feet brush against someone and I turned around to see Reaction Junkie. I squeaked, happy to see him, and gave him a big hug as well. I was glad he was there because I love spending time with him, but I was also a little disappointed not to have any time one-on-one with MLAM.
I introduced the two men, both of whom have been major parts of my life, and we started walking. They’re both the bizarre kind of human being who is completely devoid of social anxiety, so they immediately began conversing. I joined in, as well, and we walked to the vegan restaurant for dinner. While we were there, the two men were both being dommy and mean, telling me to do things hurting me subtly , teasing me. They were basically co-domming me. It was a heady experience, feeling submissive towards and dominated by two people at once. I’m not sure if I was having a total blast or was completely miserable. (And of course that’s a lie. It’s obviously the former.)
After we finished eating, we headed to happy hour. I have to admit I was still feeling rather nervous. That resulted in me acting out a bit with Reaction Junkie. I tried to play it like it was me being toppy, but it was really something of a performance. As we walked, Reaction Junkie called me out on my nervous behavior and I worked to reign it in. Reaction Junkie had originally been planning to skip happy hour and go to a meeting, but he didn’t feel well, so he stayed. When happy hour began, I talked with people, introducing MLAM to some of my friends and other partners, but I tried not to be all over him because I wanted to let him do his thing or be too clingy. Looking back, that was silly. We hadn’t seen each other in months, so of course it would have been fine for me to glom on the whole night.
I spent some time in a lovely little cuddle pile with Anderson Cooper, Kitten, Reaction Junkie, and someone else I didn’t really know. The whole time, however, I was watching MLAM out of the corner of my eye, wondering when it would be appropriate to grab him and go upstairs for some time with him in a play-friendly setting. Finally, I decided I didn’t want to wait any longer, and I sidled up and asked him if he wanted to go up with me. He did, and we headed up.
As soon as we got upstairs and I put my things down, he grabbed my hair and led me around the space. He told me to put my glasses in my bag and dragged me back towards it. I asked what he wanted me to take off, but he said he’d take off what he wanted off. I like that answer. I certainly don’t mind when people I play with allow me to take off what I want, and when I’m just beginning to play with someone, that’s the proper way to go about it, in my opinion. But having him tell me that he’d do it, and knowing that I’d take off what he told me to. Mmph. It’s the little things, and he’s very good at those small details, creating and solidifying the dynamic.
Next, he started leading me around my my nipple, which hurt like fuck. He pushed me down on one of the ottomans and I sat facing him, waiting expectantly. He began hitting my left leg a bunch, slapping my thigh repeatedly to warm up, and then hitting me harder. At one point, he stuck his hand in my face and instructed me to lick. I obeyed, although I wasn’t sure why he was doing that. Then, as he slapped my leg again with his wet hand, I remembered. It makes it hurt more because less gas is trapped between the hitter’s hand and the hittee’s body. (Or something physics-y like that. I think that’s right?) I’d forgotten that trick. He continued hurting me, and played with my mind, acting like he was going to hit me, then not, then going to hit me again, again not hitting me, finally hitting me, etc. By the end of the first round, I was shaking from the pain and the mental stress he was putting me under.
When we took a breather, I looked over my body and saw the marks already beginning to form. I asked MLAM if he would show Reaction Junkie how he did things, since he’s so good at leaving the kinds of marks I love. I almost didn’t ask because I didn’t want Reaction Junkie to feel like I was saying anything negative about him, but I know he’s not like that, so I did. They both stood over me. MLAM showed him things as they talked, Reaction Junkie tried them out, and they both mostly ignored me. It was objectifying and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
They both began hitting me. My legs were shaking and I was breathing fast as the two men beat my legs. When Reaction Junkie hit my right outer thigh, which he had destroyed the previous weekend, it overwhelmed me. I curled up around myself and had to take a break. Reaction Junkie got me some water and I caught my breath. When we resumed, I had one man on each leg, each hitting me and toying with me. MLAM showed how much he enjoys stressing people out psychologically with mindfuckery and headgames. It makes the pain worse with less effort from him. I lay back on the row of ottomans and closed my eyes. They were both beating me hard and fast, slapping and punching my thighs. I was shaking and groaning, struggling not to be too loud as I reveled in the sensations I was experiencing.
When there was a lull in the impact, MLAM asked me, “How do you feel about your ribcage?” I was confused for a moment, having gone into a headspace, but then agreed to having him hit me there. I lay down on the ottomans. MLAM started hitting my back, smacking down forcefully with open hands. It stung like fuck, and that mingled with the pain and fear and stress from when they were both hitting my legs. I started crying. I decided we should stop. Partially because I was about done, but more than that, because I don’t want to make people uncomfortable. This was a happy hour, not an official play party, and even if “light play” has no real meaning, I feel like someone crying could have been upsetting to someone in this non-play party context.
I cuddled and talked with MLAM for a little while after the scene was over. When I felt recovered, I got some water downstairs. When I went back up, MLAM was standing with a group of people that included Reaction Junkie. I went and stood by MLAM for a while, and I was thinking about joining Reaction Junkie when MLAM told me that if I wanted to go be by him, that was fine. I didn’t want to leave MLAM, but I also did feel the need to be by Reaction Junkie. So I cuddled up to him and spent the rest of the night talking to him and the rest of the group.
I had a great night, but MLAM apparently did not. He told me later that he felt like a third wheel, like he was intruding. That’s not at all how I felt about him being there. I didn’t realize he would feel that way at all. It didn’t even cross my mind. It likely would have been better if MLAM and I had had some time for just us before meeting up with Reaction Junkie. When I talked with Reaction Junkie about things the next day, he admitted that he had felt similarly, and had been trying to stay out of our way. I’d spent more of my concern about hurt feelings than necessary on Reaction Junkie, and not enough on MLAM. I regret not having alone time with MLAM first, and not spending more time with him at happy hour. Next time, I’ll do a better job of actually talking to people about how they want to interact in situations like that. I’m still very glad MLAM came to town, and the other two times we got together went much better. I do miss him, and I hope to get a chance to see him sometime in the near future.
My date with Lioness was amazing and a little bit scary. I was doubly nervous. Nervous because she’s a woman, and nervous because she’s very toppy/dommy. I was right to be nervous.
She selected a ramen place for us to go to and picked me up at the train station. As we drove, we chatted about our days and various other topics. She told me she prefers driving manual, “because I like control,” as she smiled at me. She nodded and said that most girls are like that when I informed her I don’t have much experience with women. I told her about my first date rules. She wasn’t at all bothered, and when we got out of the car,by he said that she liked that I had those rules.
As we walked to the bank for her to get cash, she punched me in the arm and asked “Does that hurt?” I don’t think any of the men who use me would ever dare to do that in such a public setting. [It’s both useful, because I enjoy being hurt in public, and concerning, because abuse happens in same-sex couples (and to men from women) as well, and the idea of abuse as something men do to women can get in the way of victims seeking help.] I dutifully told her that it did hurt, but the other side hurt more. I also told her that my left calf still hurts when I walk. If someone wants to use me that way, I should tell them those sorts of thing so that they can either avoid them, or, more likely with the way I should be treated, focus in on them.
As we walked out of the bank, I told her that I like being hurt in public and having to pretend everything is normal. Throwing myself under the bus, per usual. She liked this, and soon started grabbing me and digging her nails into my skin. She pulled my hair some, and pushed me around, as well. In the middle of walking down a not exactly empty city street, in early evening. It was painful, unsettling, and fascinating. I was worried about what other people thought, and tried to make only quiet noises. She enjoyed hearing my little squeaks and whimpers as she pinched me, pushed me, grabbed me, and dug her nails in.
When we got to the ramen place, I walked up the stairs ahead of her, which allowed her to grab and squeeze my left calf, making me help and grab the railing to avoid tripping. She gave me a grin as we put our names in and, as she had warned me would probably happen, were told there would be an hour long wait. I would normally never wait that long, but they had a system and she gave them her number. We headed out to get a drink while we waited.
We went across the street for cocktails and sat at a table. She started doing the most upsetting thing she did all night: maintaining eye contact. Whenever I looked at her, she was looking right at me, her dark eyes watching my discomfort. I told her it made me uncomfortable, which got a “Good.” in response. We started talking about ourselves and kink, and at some point during the conversation, she told me “I’m like a big cat,” which made me grin, thinking about her nickname, “Lioness.” I told her about that, and she liked it. She told me that I was her prey, and I realized that exactly how I felt. I wanted to impress her and behave in order to appease her. The look in her eyes was the look of a hungry predator. None of the men in my life look at me like that, even the sadistic ones. She was looking at me like she wanted to eat me. When I said that, she smiled at me and said, “I do.”
At some point during the night she said I was like a “little mouse” and started calling me that in an affectionate and dangerous way.
We continued talking and discussed what she enjoys. She very much likes control of all kinds. She really likes to hurt people, both physically and mentally. She informed me that she likes crying, and bringing people to “Yellow.” Somewhat proudly, she told me that she had played with a woman who was known as a heavy bottom and she brought that woman to use her safeword. When I told her about the fact that I have to ask a man for permission to orgasm, she seemed mildly interested, but not at all bothered by it. That was a relief, since I was concerned how a dominant woman might react to something like that.
When the topic of limits came up, I told her I don’t so much have any anymore, especially with MLAM. I mentioned scat and vomit, which she said she was also not into and then I mentioned “other people’s blood.” That made her give me a smile and a look, and then she asked, “And what about your blood?” I looked away, as kept doing the whole night and looked at the wall as I told her that was something that I’m interested in, but that it scares me. She told me that she would tear my back up with scratching. Basically guaranteed. That’s not something I’ve ever had to deal with, as men, or at least the men I’ve played with, aren’t so much for the scratching. I don’t know how I’ll deal with it. Of course, as MLAM reminded me earlier today, what I can take isn’t the point. I’ll take what Lioness dishes out.
I was feeling antsy and a little overwhelmed, but she did reassure me of several things, which made me more comfortable, although actually being comfortable was not in the cards for a little mouse out on a date with a lioness. She said she definitely wants me to use my safewords when I need to, and that at least the first few times she checks in what some might consider “too much.” I don’t mind that at all. MLAM does similar things, and it makes me feel safe letting go and pushing myself. She also told me that if I ever wanted to just hang out and talk, or have sex without kink, that was fine, too. She gets “lots of play,” so if I’m not up for things some evening, we don’t have to do them.
When we finally returned to the restaurant for our ramen, we were seated at the bar, which was relaxing for me, since it meant way less eye contact. Relaxing at first, that is. Then she started hurting me. She put her hand on my lower back, under my shirt and dug her claws in, scratching up. It hurt in a stingy, long-lasting way. I squirmed a bit much and she did stop. She told me that was an example scratch and asked how I liked it. I told her it was a lot, and I wasn’t used to that sort of pain, and that I’d probably take it better out of public. She understood and switched to other ways of hurting me for the time being. At one point, she dug her nails in deep into my left thigh, lifted and pulled, shook it several times, lightened her grip so I thought it was over, and then she shook it again. It was all I could do to keep semi normal in appearance. That nail dig left marks. Luckily the ramen place was both loud and dark.
Eventually we finished and walked back to her car. She started smoking a cigarette, and when we got to her car, she said, “You want to be my ashtray, huh?” and we discussed what that might look like. Tapping ash into my mouth, of course, and possibly leaving cigarette burns elsewhere on my body. She drove me back to the train station and, of course, hurt me along the way, including slapping my tit. She told me that she enjoyed our time together and wants to see me again. She informed me, in a matter of fact way, that she almost never asks for a second meeting. “Most people bore me,” she said. I don’t bore her. That’s both good and bad for me. It makes me feel special and eager to please, but of course, what she finds not boring about me is that I’m fun to hurt.
When we stopped at the station, I got my things and then shyly asked if she wanted a kiss. She said yes, and I leaned in, expecting a nice, soft girl kiss. Stupid little mouse. She bit my lip and my tongue and grabbed me hard. Eventually it stopped, but she kept a grip on me with her nails. I asked in a small voice, “Do you want me to get out of your car?” She responded, “Get out of my car” in a dismissive voice. Before I walked away, she told me to let her know when I got home safely. I boarded the train full of subby, happy, somewhat overwhelmed feelings
When I got home, I saw that MLAM had texted me, and I told him a bit about her and the date. He asked how she handled my first date rules, and I reported that nothing seemed to phase her, including the fact that I have to ask a man for permission to cum. I also told him that the Lioness is the person who I’d told him about who smokes and wants to use me as an ashtray. His response was to say “tell her I’d like to talk to her.” Gulp.
I asked if he could tell me what he wanted to talk to her about, or if it wasn’t for me to know. Of course he said, “None of your business, bitch. Let the adults talk.” I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I liked that. A lot. It worked well, considering they’re both older than I am by a decent number of years, and since she’s a woman, “Let the men talk” or something similar doesn’t work. Plus, calling me bitch and pointing out that I’m not a real adult was a good mix of name calling, condescension, and insulting both my intelligence and maturity. Being counted as not one of the adults and being condescended to reminds me of my physical and mental inferiority and makes me feel submissive.
I gave her his contact info this morning and she told me she would text him later today. She also called me “little mouse” again, and it’s just so perfect. Normally I’d say I’m “nervcited,” about two people collaborating in topping me, but with the these two beautiful, intelligent, and most concerning of all, sadistic, people, it’s more like scared and nervous and curious and anxious and feeling stupid that I’m excited. My life is going to get a lot more interesting, fun, difficult, and painful.
