#dacryphilia
I was wanting something sweet and cuddly. Or, at least, that’s what I thought I wanted.
Instead I Skyped with The Super Sadist and got beating on my tits with a lighter and choking myself with a dildo down my throat. He timed me and told me to “Keep it in there, bitch” and “This is what you’re for” and “Don’t you dare take it out,” andwhen I fucked up, I had to slap my tits or my cunt. He stroked his cock while he watched.
I kept it in my throat for 20, 30, then 40 seconds, just a short break between each attmpt. I held it in with my hand as I listened to the barrage of verbal abuse. I teared up. I drooled on myself because he likes it, no matter how I feel about it. I threw up in my mouth a bit during play for the first time. After that happened the third time, I had to take the dildo out early because I couldn’t breathe and there was too much vomit in my mouth and nose.Then I really started to cry in earnest.
I curled up a bit and cried hard into a pillow until I heard him say “Look at me.” I moved to look at him, and he told me to watch how hard he was getting off to watching me suffer. I watched him and thought about what he was masturbating to. The pain, suffering, humiliation, degradation. Soon my whimpers of suffering turned into whines of arousal as he stroked himself, finally cumming from all the suffering he’d watched me inflict on myself at his instruction and all the tears that had resulted.
I earned a “Mildly impressed,” which is high praise coming from him.
Sweet and cuddly are fine and good. But this is the treatment I need.
Two Sundays ago, I spent the evening and the night with The Violinist. The first thing he did when I walked in the door was to institute a new rule. When I’m in his apartment, I’m not to wear any clothing. I grinned (I love rules like that) and stripped. We talked for a little while, and then he picked me up, threw me onto the bed, and we started to play. There was lots of impact, grabbing, scratching, squeezing, and fucking. It was mean, painful, frightening, and hot.
My favorite part of the play we did involved a little game The Violinist was on top of me, pinning my arms and legs down with his legs. I had told him I wouldn’t be able to take as much impact on my right tit as the left because Reaction Junkie had focused on that side the night/day before. The Violinist slapped my left tit hard, kissed me, and then slapped me again. Kiss, slap, kiss, slap, kiss, slap. The switch between the painful impact and the enjoyable kissing threw me for a mental loop, even besides the obvious physical pain. I started trembling, whimpering, and flinching whenever he came in for a kiss.
Finally, he stopped, and I thought it was over. He made out with me, and I relaxed a little until he sat up and said, “That was ten kisses.” My eyes went wide, and I started shaking. These were not little slaps he was going to do. He was going to hit my tit hard, many times in a row. He started slapping, and I fought the urge to cry out. He did five in a row and then paused. I was starting to cry as he began again, completing the other five slaps.
Then he kissed me again. I tried to move my head, desperate to avoid more pain (terrible plan, I know). He forced me to let him kiss me, and then administered five more good hard slaps to my left tit. I was crying pretty hard by this point. He looked at me, pleased with his work, and said, “I think that’s enough for now.” I nodded, unable to answer verbally.
After I’d recovered, I wanted to check in with him, so I asked, “You don’t mind tears, do you?” He smiled and responded, “I like tears.” I like a sadist who enjoys the products of his labor.
Alright but I really want to suck a guy off as a stress reliver if he’s angry about something. Starting out slowly but he gets impatient with my pace and grabs the back of my neck to make me go faster. Him making fun of my eyes tearing up from his dick hitting the back of my throat and calling me his little whore. Any time I pull back because it’s too much, he slaps my cheek and shoves his dick back in. Using his thumb to wipe the tears from under my eyes before leaning back to watch the pathetic state I’m in
I’m going to go out on a limb here and just assume you guys enjoy me spamming my works in progress.
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Want a bratty sub, a demon daddy with… creative anatomy, and a world order defined by your natural dominance or submission? Of course you do. Maximum heat, kinks aplenty.
