Halo s01e09:“She Kidnapped Us! She Tortured And Brainwashed Us, Turned Us Into Weapons. Now She’s Turning Us Against Each Other.[…]No Matter What They’ve Done To Us,We’re All We Have Now. It’s Just Us.”
Happy hour last Tuesday (8.26.2013) went well. I started the evening talking to Vegan Boy. After a little while, I noticed someone new to me, Mad Hatter, talking to someone new to the local scene about the community in the area and about poly stuff. Besides the fact that Mad Hatter and the girl he was talking with were both attractive, I thought the conversation sounded interesting and like I might have something to contribute to it. Vegan Boy and I joined in their conversation. At one point, Mad Hatter made a comment about some kind of fairly edgy play and laughed at the differences in the reaction I had versus the reaction the other girl in the conversation had. He seems fun and I think I’ll try to get to know him better. By which I mean play with him and/or have sex with him.
I was having such a good time talking to people that I decided to skip the class that was being offered upstairs. I went up to the bar to get another drink and The Violinist made a comment to me about something or other. I’d seen him around and talked with him a bit before. He’d seemed like someone I might enjoy playing with, so after we reintroduced ourselves, I invited him to leave the bar and come join me on the couch.
We started talking and eventually the conversation turned to our kinks, of course. He mentioned rope, but then emphasized a more sadistic side. Then he literally self-identified to me as a “reaction junkie.” Well, obviously my reaction was “Well, hello there!” He started messing with me a bit while we were sitting downstairs on the couch. Eventually, the class was over and we headed upstairs.
The Violinist started hitting my thighs, smacking them with the paddle and his fists. He put his hand around my throat, called me names, dug his nails in, and scratched me. I was squirming around his lap and making lovely little noises. While he was hurting me, we were also having some nice conversation and getting to know each other. At one point I looked over and noticed that Vegan Boy was patiently holding the water I’d told him to bring me. I eventually managed to tell The Violinist that I should give Vegan Boy some attention (also I wanted to hit the kid), and we made plans to go back to my place after happy hour.
I started playing with Vegan Boy. I was slapping and hitting his arms and thighs and built up to punching him. He actually had his clothes off this time, and I was eventually hitting him basically as hard as I could. He asked me if I wanted to spank him, and I said “Sure!” I wanted to have a spanking bench put together, so I turned to Vegan Boy and said, “Watch this.” I went over to one of the nice young men watching, and in a cute little voice, asked him if he would help me put together a spanking bench with the ottomans sitting around. He obviously said yes, because who can resist an adorable young woman asking for help making a piece of furniture so she can hit someone? Vegan Boy bent over, and I started spanking and hitting him. I even got to spend some more time punching him, and from this angle I was able to put my hips into it a little. I know I’m not super big and strong, but oof this guy can take a lot. I need to build up my own stamina so I can hurt him more. And I need to toughen up my poor hands.
At the end of the night, I went to the fast food place with The Violinist and a group of people. When we left to go to the train, he put his hand around the back of my neck and left it there the entire time, guiding me to the station. While waiting for the train, he kept hurting me, mostly by digging his nails in and dragging them along my skin. I really enjoyed the challenge of trying not to cry out in pain when he scratched me. When we got to our final stop, he put his hand back on my neck as we walked to the car.
When we got back to my place, we brushed our teeth and then he dragged me to the bed. While he was hitting me, he made me hump his leg continuously, and any time I’d stop, he’d remind me to start again. When I started doing it without being told, he’d say “Good bitch.” I really enjoyed that, actually. He kept referring to me that way when I did something he liked, like I was being a well-trained bitch. At the beginning of the night, he told me “I’m not going to hit you in the face” (that night). Of course, that didn’t stop me from flinching all over the place, since I was still coming down off spending a bunch of time with Reaction Junkie, who hit me in the face a bunch. And because I just get flinchy around people who hit me. The Violinist beat me and punched me and scratched me and slapped my tits. I was moaning and grinding on his leg like a bitch in heat. Then he bit my tit so hard I cried. The crying didn’t bother him, which was good, but I felt weird about it because it was the first time we’d hung out.
When I recovered from the crying, he hit me for a while longer and then growled, “Do you want to get fucked?” I immediately said “Yes please!” He grabbed a condom and started fucking me nice and hard. He asked at one point, “How important is it to you that you cum tonight?” I responded that it wasn’t important, unless it was important to him. When he heard that, he had me flip over and fucked me from behind until he came. Then we cuddled up and passed the fuck out.
In the morning, we woke up earlier than necessary, and I started grinding against him a little. He asked “You want it again?” Of course I did. I’m an insatiable slut! So he gave me a nice morning fuck. Then I gave him breakfast and drove him to the metro. Before he got out of the car, he said we should do something at an event, so I’m super excited for the next party because I love getting hurt in public. I’m pretty pleased with myself for being such a good slut, having my first real conversation with a guy and taking him home with me the same night. Now, that’s my kind of happy hour.
When I went to rinse the ashes out of my mouth, The Super Sadist told me to clean myself out so he could use my ass. It (oh gods this is embarrassing) took a long time. Too long. When I came out, The Super Sadist was waiting. He put a knife up to my neck, threatening me. I was immediately compliant as he duct taped my arms together behind my back. He made me get on my knees and lick his balls. When he was hard again, he pushed me over. My hands were behind my back, so my face pressed against the carpet as he pushed his cock onto my ass. There was no lube. I whimpered, but didn’t try to get away. There wouldn’t have been any point in trying, anyway. He fucked my ass hard, using my bound hands as leverage as he thrust into me. “I knew ass raping a feminist would be a good game,” he growled, making me squirm and struggle and moan.
He didn’t cum while using my ass. No, he had another, more degrading, more uncomfortable idea. He grabbed the copy of the SCUM Manifesto that I bought for him while in San Francisco and sat down in a chair. Motioning me to kneel between his legs, he had me use my mouth on his balls while he read to me from the book, laughing at the stupidity of a woman proclaiming the inferiority of men and reversing the genders to make the book an accurate depiction of reality: “The [female] is completely egocentric, trapped inside [herself], incapable of empathizing or identifying with others, or love, friendship, affection of tenderness. [She] is a completely isolated unit, incapable of rapport with anyone. [Her] responses are entirely visceral, not cerebral; [her] intelligence is a mere tool in the services of [her] drives and needs; [she] is incapable of mental passion, mental interaction; [she] can’t relate to anything other than [her] own physical sensations.”
He came on the cover of the book, and then had me wait while he cleaned himself off. I knew what was going to happen next. One of the first things I saw him post was about wanting to make a girl snort cum off of a feminist book of some sort. He floated the idea of doing it off the SCUM Manifesto and, in fact, that was the reason I bought it for him. When he came back, he’d cut up a straw. He used one of my loyalty cards to scrape the cum together into two lines. I hesitated and made conversation to stall, but eventually I had to do the inevitable.
While The Super Sadist recorded the event on video, I put the straw in my right nostril, lowered the tip to one of the lines of cum, pinched my nose shut, and breathed in sharply. I sucked up the whole line and then repeated the process for the other side. It wasn’t as painful as I thought it might be, but doing it off of that book while The Super Sadist recorded it and laughed made it humiliating. He went to have a cigarette and told me that he would let me blow my nose once he was done. I accompanied him, but decided not to take him up on that. Having the smell of his cum in my nose for the rest of the day seemed appropriate and fitting.
While we were outside, we were talking and he said something provoking. I jokingly went to punch his arm, although I didn’t. When I told him I’d considered doing that and then thought better of it, he said he’d seen that. Feeling impish, I said, “You should probably punish me for thinking about doing it.” I thought he might punch me in the arm or kick me or something. Instead, without warning, he socked me right in the stomach. Oof. I bent double, clutching my midsection, and looked up at him. He was laughing at my surprise and pain. It was ridiculously hot.
When he finished smoking, we headed back inside to get ready to go to dinner. We went into the bathroom to shower together and he told me to get on my knees. I thought he was just going to piss on me. Once again, I had underestimated him. This time he was going to do something much more violating and degrading and humiliating. He made me bend forward and spread my ass for him as much as I could. I winced and whimpered as he started pissing into my ass. It wasn’t just the stinging sensation from the urine hitting my roughly fucked hole. He was making me spread myself open for him so that he could use me as a toilet. I’m a toy for him and all of my holes are available to him for use in any way. I felt exposed and degraded as he finished pissing into me, leaving me face down in his piss.
We showered, got dressed, and smoked weed in preparation for delicious vegan food. Then we headed out the door. On the way to and from the restaurant we had great conversation about all kinds of things. When we got to the restaurant, we ordered our delicious vegan food. I got buffalo wings and he got BBQ tofu. Then, on the way out, I got a cupcake and a cookie. We shared the cookie back at his place and I had the cupcake in the airport. Everything was amazing and delicious and I’m so happy he was willing to go eat rabbit food with me.
While we were at the restaurant, I said something silly and he called me “Stupid.” Being called stupid in public like that turned me on like crazy and I could feel my cunt clench. I like being insulted and treated poorly in public, although I especially enjoy it at kink events because I don’t want to actually do anything that might make someone uncomfortable in a vanilla setting. It reminds me of my place, and I like that people can see that I’m the depraved kind of person who likes being treated like that.
When we got back to his place, we Skyped with Marxman for a little while. The Super Sadist was doing something on the other side of the room while I started the call. After we had talked for a minute or two, Marxman commented to The Super Sadist, “She’s flinching and following you around the room with your eyes.” The Super Sadist looked very pleased with himself as he said, “Yeah. She’s been doing that.” Being in that state of mind suits me quite well. Having a heightened awareness of him and his movements means that I’m in a good mental place, that he’s been hurting, using, and scaring me in the right ways.
The Super Sadist started hitting me, and, after we got off Skype, he “forced” me to smoke more pot than I had been. We both got rull high. We cuddled and fucked and cuddled. While we were cuddling and waiting for the taxi to come take me away, we were looking at each other and I was actually making eye contact. Normally I don’t, not for a long time, but I felt comfortable with him. He noticed the change and said, “I think this is the longest you’ve made eye contact with me.” I was being silly, so I replied, “It’s cuz I’m not scared of you any more.” He looked at more more intensely, and I kept it up until he broke me by saying, “Is it too gay if I tell you you have really pretty eyes?” The ridiculous way he’d phrased it, and the compliment itself, made me giggle and look down, feeling embarrassed in an adorable, happy sort of way.
Finally the taxi came and we said our goodbyes. I was sad to leave, but very, very glad that I decided to make the trip there. I had a fuckton of fun, was happy to have been useful to my new owner, and really enjoyed getting to know him even better.
Sorry, I got behind on these so I’ll post a couple a day for the next two or three days. Oops.
Collared | Cane | Flinching
Ben flinched as the mask over his eyes was removed. He trembled at the sight before him. Jake was stripped down to his boxer briefs and stretched out vertically in an X shape. There was a bar between his wrists and one between his ankles. His brother had a bit between his teeth, and it looked like his collar was fastened to tight. Ben can hear a sort of wheezing coming from him, like he’s straining to breathe. He was blindfolded too.
Ben hadn’t been allowed to see his brother for the last several days. Volkov said that Jake had been naughty and needed to be punished. From the looks of it, he had certainly been punished. There were electrical burns and bruises and countless cuts and scrapes that covered his brother’s back, arms and legs, as well as roughly one inch circular burns that littered his body. What the fuck had caused those?
Ben trembled as he looked at him. What had he done to deserve this? It reminded him of when Volkov had punished him for not coming out of his cage fast enough. Tears slipped down his cheek as he looked him over. Jake was clearly exhausted. His head hung low against his chest, he didn’t look up or acknowledge Ben’s presence. Ben looked at Volkov who had a sadistic grin on his face. God I hate you, Ben thought viciously.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’ve been through punishment, Benjamin. You understand. So, you’ll be teaching today’s lesson to your brother.”
“W-what?”
“You’ll be administering his punishment.”
“I don’t… what are you… what do you mean?”
Dmitri stepped towards him and that’s when Ben saw the cane in his hands.
“N-n-no! No, you… you can’t make me do th-that. No.”
“You’ll administer the cane to Jake’s body where instructed, or I’ll let Dmitri do with an added bonus.”
Ben looked at Volkov, eyes questioning him.
“Refuse to carry out your brother’s punishment and I make you watch as Dmitri get’s to use your brother in whatever way he wants as often as he wants until I’m ready to take you back to our bed.”
Ben swallowed hard. He couldn’t hurt his brother. Not like this. Dmitri put the cane in his hands.
“Please, can… can I please talk to him?”
“Punishment first. Do it and I’ll let you two share a cell tonight.”
Ben saw his brother’s shoulder’s shake slightly. He could tell Jake was in pain.
“Consider it payback for all you have suffered because of him.”
“It’s not like that. I mean… I don’t think like that.”
“Really? You’ve never had a moment where you wished it had been him, and not you?”
Ben drops his eyes from Volkov’s, knowing that he’ll see the truth of his thoughts there. He remembers a harsh conversation where he’d nearly shouted the same thing at Jake at home in their kitchen after he’d been rescued.
“I thought so. Now do it! Or give Dmitri back the cane and watch him utterly ruin your pathetic brother.”
It really was best if he did it. But god, he knew how much it hurt. He didn’t want to hurt him. Even if Jake was to blame, Ben truly didn’t want him hurt. But the only way to save Jake, in this instance, was to hurt him. Would Jake forgive him? He looked at Jake, he couldn’t see his face, but despite his trembling, it looked like he was nodding his head yes. Was he trying to tell Ben it was okay?
Ben held the cane in a tremulous grip. “O-okay,” he agreed in a very small voice. “But, sir, please, c-can I talk to him? It’s been days. Please.”
“You can talk after.”
Ben swallowed and nodded. Volkov would not be negotiated with. He glanced over to see a video camera ready to record the beating. He looked back at Volkov who once again had a cruel, smug smile on his face.
Ben pulled in a deep steadying breath. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this. He approached his brother. The wheezing got louder the closer he got. “Please,” he said, turning back to Volkov, “could you at least loosen his collar so he can breathe? I can hear him struggling from here.”
Volkov assented and Dmitri unlocked the padlock and loosened the collar, then locked the tiny padlock back into place. Ben was relieved to see a fraction of the tension in his brother’s body loosen.
Ben stood behind Jake, just off to his left. He raised the cane, but it felt thick, heavy and unwieldy in his grasp, despite its apparent suppleness.
“I-I’m sorry,” Ben whispered, and he hoped it was loud enough that his brother could hear him.
The cry that Ben let out as he swung the cane at Jake’s back was nearly as loud as Jake’s when the rod touched his back.
Someone lightly claps the whumpee on the back, and before they know it, they’ve got them pinned against a wall, wrists twisted painfully behind their back.
Cue the awkward realisation that it’s just the whumpee’s friend, and what the hell are they doing hurting them, as they gingerly letting go of said friend who rubs their wrists in confusion, and gives the whumpee a concerned look.
Because what the hell happened to them to make them react to a light touch like that?
the everyday little moments that give a traumatized character pause. they don’t outright scream, or cry, or verbally enforce a boundary. there’s just a tiny flinch and eyes going distant. holding their breath. getting hypervigilant and going very still. little signs that they haven’t really moved on from what happened to them.
