#kink stories

Reaction Junkie and I haven’t fucked in far too long (more than a month), for various reasons. We’ve been meaning to fix that for the last few days, but just haven’t gotten to it.

Well, a little while ago, I said I didn’t understand something, and then made fun of myself. He played along and called me stupid. My cunt clenched and I gasped a little. Reaction Junkie got a look in his eyes and told me, “Get on the floor.” I immediately complied, kneeling at his feet.

“Head down, “he commanded, and leaned forward, putting my head on the floor. He straddled me, pressing me into the ground. He continued to insult my intelligence, saying, “You’re so stupid. You’re an idiot. Retard. Fucktard. Republican. Christian.” I moaned and trembled under him, making him chuckle and say, “You’re getting turned on by me calling you all these synonyms for stupid.”

He stood up and flipped me over onto my back. I looked up at him, afraid and uncertain what would happen next. He climbed on top of me, leaning in for a kiss. Then he continued degrading me as I whimpered and gasped, telling me he would rent me out, tell me how stupid I am, calling me out for being turned on by it all.

I felt him get hard, which just made me hotter and more desperate, which was obvious to him. I moaned and started to grind against him, hoping that he would want to fuck. He said something about having other guys fuck me, and I said, “I want you to fuck me.” “I know,” he replied and, to my relief and excitement, he continued, “go get a condom.”

I tried to head to the bedroom, but he had me pinned. I couldn’t move. I struggled, making him grin, “Why haven’t you gotten a condom yet? If you don’t get a condom in the next five seconds, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

The threat made me redouble my efforts, but or course I couldn’t get free. He counted down, “Five…four…three…two…one.” when he got to “one,” I braced myself for impact. He looked around, grabbed one of my squeaky toys off a nearby shelf, and shoved it into my mouth. I bit down as he grabbed my tits and started squeezing. I groaned as it started to hurt, and then he slapped me several times in the face.

He asked me why I wasn’t squeaking, and then turned the toy around in my mouth. I squeaked it a few more times, and he smiled and hit me in the face again. Then he told me to go get a condom, and let me up. I ran to the bedroom and came out. He told me to put it on him, which I did as fast as possible.

Reaction Junkie ordered me to take my pants off, and as I complied, pushed me back into the bedroom and down onto the bed. I spread my legs wide and he got between them, commenting on my action and telling me what a desperate slut I was. He wasn’t wrong. I whimpered and begged him to fuck me.

Then, finally, at long last, he pushed his cock into me. “Oh god,” I moaned, appreciating the feeling I’d missed got so long. He fucked me, telling me about renting me out, talking about things he done to me in the past, calling me names, and turning me on more and more. I wrapped my arms around him and pushed up into his thrusts.

I don’t normally get off during piv sex. In fact, I don’t normally even get on the road to orgasm, but this time I could actually feel myself getting close. I focused on the sensations, savoring them. I felt a change in the way Reaction Junkie was fucking me, and I could tell he was about to cum, which only turned me in even more and made me moan.

He came, looked me in the eyes, and said, “I love you.” I smiled and told him I loved him, too. He pulled out, and I whimpered. “Oh, do you want me to touch you until you cum?” he teased. I nodded vigorously and he started rubbing my clit. I whined and told him, “I want you to fuck me with your fingers.” He happily did so, pushing them into me and making me moan. I started rubbing my clit, and then grabbed a vibrator.

I thought about him fucking me, about him having people fuck me while I was in stocks, and came hard, tensing and moaning. When I came down from my orgasm, we got up to go about our day, and the godfamn fucking fantastic sex left me grinning and skipping. I needed that.

A few days after Reaction Junkie and I had our conversation about d/s, we stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work. In the car, he had taken a  dominant tone with me, and he didn’t let a little thing like being in public prevent him from continuing. As we walked through the store, he kept grabbing me and whispering comments into my ear, reminding me of my place.

I was getting turned on by what he was doing and saying and Reaction Junkie could tell. He laughed at me a little, and asked if my cunt was clenching. He didn’t need to wait for my response to know the answer. Of course it was. I always get turned on when he exerts his dominance over me and reminds me that no matter what we do, at the end of the day, he owns me.

At one point, I knelt down to look at something on a bottom shelf. Reaction Junkie came over to stand next to me. He made some comment about me being on my knees, which obviously made me think about sucking his cock. Just as I was thinking that, he said, “Suck my cock.” I thought he meant over his clothes,   and when I started to stand up to continue shopping, he said, “Suck my cock.”

At first I thought he meant for me to put my mouth on his crotch over his clothes. The idea of doing that made me a little nervous, and more than a little excited. Being seen doing that probably wouldn’t land him, or even me, in any trouble, but I would probably be too mortified to go back. I was about to ask if that’s what he meant for me to do, thinking I would definitely do it, despite my worries about doing so in public.

Before I could say anything, however, Reaction Junkie added to his command, “Take it out.” That threw me, since I didn’t know whether or not he meant it. Actually having his cock out in public could potentially negatively affect him, not just me. If I hadn’t been concerned about what consequences he might face, I would have immediately grabbed his cock and started sucking. As it was, however, I started to stand, deciding that he wasn’t serious. The look on his face made me uncertain again.

I returned to my knees, then tried to get up again. I went back and forth between kneeling and standing multiple times, not knowing what the right thing to do was. I tried to figure out from his expression what he wanted, even tried to ask a question, but Reaction Junkie just looked entertained, and I couldn’t figure out what to ask. He even added to the mindfuck, instructing me to stand and then ordering me to suck his cock in quick succession.

Being ordered around and being fucked with had me turned on and subby. I wanted so badly to obey, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Reaction Junkie had broken my brain.

He laughed and made fun of me for being unable to decide if I should get up or stay down, telling me how I looked, confused and stuck half-way between standing and kneeling. Finally, he told me I should stand. We finished grocery shopping, and the whole time he kept whispering to me about what had just happned. My desire to do what he’d commanded, my uncertainty, and my vascillation between standing and kneeling.

The fact that I would have sucked his cock in the aisle of the grocery store proved that I will follow his orders even if it would make life difficult for me. And fucking with my mind demonstrated that it isn’t just my body he owns. My mind is also his to do with as he will. He’d given me a perfect reminder of where I really stand (or, in this case, kneel) in our relationship.

Part 1

I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to post these next two parts, since there are feelings about things some of my friends did, and at least one of them read my tumblr. But I decided to share them anyway. Not to make anyone feel bad, especially since I’m not upset or mad or hurt or deeply wounded, but because I like how open I can be on here. No one did anything wrong. These were just my initial visceral reactions to things that happened.

A little while after I’d gotten those lovely compliments, I saw Anderson Cooper and Reaction Junkie standing with Radical Girl. I went over and Reaction Junkie was giving head scratches to Radical Girl. He told me he was petting the puppy and said, “Look at the puppy!” I had a negative reaction (a combination of jealousy, sadness, hurt, and envy) to that, and, honestly, picturing this part of the night still makes me feel kind of shitty. I think I had that response partially because hey, I’m his puppy, partially because I feel like I haven’t been getting to be in any sort of headspaces much lately, partially because I haven’t been playing with pretty much anyone besides Reaction Junkie recently, and partially because I wanted to be doing something like that with her.

Anderson Cooper asked if he could join Reaction Junkie in petting her, and I saw that, because of the way we were standing, if he did so, I would be literally out of the circle, with his arm in front of me, physically excluding me. She said he could. Reaction Junkie tried to pet me at the same time, and asked Radical Girl if she wanted triple scratches. I felt uncomfortable because of my reactions, and because I didn’t want to pet her as much as I wanted to want to (I think that was at least somewhat because I’d had that initial negative response, and was trying to deal with it), and because of the unintended physical exclusion.

I hesitated a moment, and if I’d had more mental energy, or if I hadn’t used up a lot of my “dealing with people” energy, I might have gone for it and had fun. I was right on the cusp of being able to do that, and I really wish I had been able to go for it. But my emotional and social reserves were depleted, so instead I smiled and bounced and said, “I’m gonna go check my phone!” I didn’t want my feelings to be noticed, since I could have just dealt with them on my own. I wasn’t sure if Anderson Cooper or Radical Girl had noticed (I found out later that she had been able to tell that something was up), but of course Reaction Junkie did.

He followed me to the couch where I was checking my phone. I was embarrassed and frustrated by the feelings I’d had and the actions I’d taken in reaction to the situation. I told Reaction Junkie I was tired, and he asked if I wanted to go. I said I did, but then changed my mind. We decided to go upstairs and have him beat me. He asked if we should invite Radical Girl to watch, and I happily said yes. We invited her and Anderson Cooper. Her eyes got big and she looked at me. I grinned and said she should come watch, so the four of us headed upstairs. At first, while Reaction Junkie was tying me, we all chatted. Then the beating began.

It began with me face up in Reaction Junkie’s lap. He started hitting the fronts and sides of my thighs, alternating between smacks and punches. Then he did a long set of slaps. It was very stingy, which I usually hate. This time, however, as the initial bite faded, the afterburn felt amazing. He continued hitting me with his hands for a while. I savored the thuddy and stingy pain for their different effects. I knew that Radical Girl was watching, and that knowledge encouraged me to take more. It changed the experience, making more fun and more intense, which resulted in me groaning and moaning even more than usual.

I felt Reaction Junkie reach for something, and I could tell he was going to switch from his hands to an impact tool. I threw myself under the bus and said that I had my mean paddle in my purse. We sent Anderson Cooper downstairs to grab my bag. While we were waiting, I looked over at Radical Girl and was delighted to see that she had that big-eyed kid in a candy store look again. Anderson Cooper returned, bag in hand, and gave it to Reaction Junkie. As he did, he said, “I’m helping,” with one of his evil little assistant sadist grins on his face.

Reaction Junkie started in on me again, this time using the paddle. He brought it down on the front and sides of my thighs, hitting me over and over. I was starting to get done with that part of my body, so I told him, “I have a whole other side.” Reaction Junkie smiled at me and flipped me over so I was face down over his lap. He started hitting me again with the paddle and with his fists. I moaned and savored the mix of pain and pleasure. I grabbed a piece of his shirt in my mouth and bit down on it as the blows kept coming. The feeling of the impacts on my sensitized skin made me gasp. Reaction Junkie noticed and asked me, “Have you had enough?” Of course I responded, “No.”

Reaction Junkie had me stand up and bend over the couch. He started kneeing me in the ass and backs of my thighs, then added in some punching and slapping. All of a sudden, I felt a really hard paddle strike on my left ass cheek. Through the pain-buzzed headspace I was in, I heard talking. There was another paddle hit, this time on the right. I made out Reaction Junkie saying, “You can hit her as hard as you can.” He was letting someone else hit me.

I asked who it was and Reaction Junkie teasingly replied, “Don’t worry about it.” I thought it might be Radical Girl, and I knew it wouldn’t be anyone I wasn’t comfortable with, but I wanted to know. I picked up my head and repeated my question. Reaction Junkie could tell that I actually wanted to know, so he told me it was Radical Girl. “That’s okay, then!” I said happily before putting my head back down.

Radical Girl seemed timid about going full force at first, so I turned my head and told her, “You can hit me as hard as you can!” And boy, did she. It hurt so good, the hot, stingy pain radiating from where she’d struck me. I took a breath and said, “Okay,” before leaning forward, grabbing the paddle. I thought I was done. Then Reaction Junkie stopped me and took the paddle from me. He wanted to hit me as hard as he could, to show it off. His first couple of blows glanced off, although they still hurt. Then he changed sides and angles and brought the paddle down on my ass with a loud and painful *SMACK*

Happy hour was great on Tuesday!

Reaction Junkie and I got there earlier than usual, which I’m very happy about, since it meant the wonderful evening lasted as long as possible. When we went up to the bar, we saw that Pup (A new boytoy Reaction Junkie got for me. I’ll write up the night that happened soon) was there. We said hello and started talking. As we conversed, more and more people streamed into the bar. I kept looking up as people came in, looking for Radical Girl, a new friend who was coming to happy hour at my invitation.

Finally, Radical Girl walked in. We greeted each other, and I introduced her to some of the people I was talking to. There was so much excellent conversation about all kinds of topics, from Google Glass to social anxiety to Berkley to not feeling like an interesting person, and so on. I wandered in and out of conversational groups, feeling more confident and socially competent than I have in a long time. My more core group of friends and I worked to keep the worst of the “fresh meat” phenomenon from negatively affecting Radical Girl. There were still some uncomfortable moments, and I won’t deny that we also had a bit of that going on (we also had the whole “liking her because she’s a cool person” thing going on tho), but overall we made sure her first time at that happy hour was not overly creeper-laden.

At some point, Reaction Junkie and I were in conversation with Pup. Something that was said made Reaction Junkie want to play with him a little. I think it may have been that he said something about me, rather than to me. Anyway, Reaction Junkie told Pup, “Get on your knees.” (This wasn’t a new thing; we played like this at the party last Saturday.) Pup hesitated. He looked around, like he was looking for help. Help he didn’t really want. He slowly dropped to his knees. Once he was kneeling in front of me, Reaction Junkie said, “Now look LFB in the eyes and tell her you’re glad to see her.” The voice he was using made me want to obey despite the fact he wasn’t even talking to me. Pup must have felt similarly, because he looked me in the eyes and said, “I’m glad to see you.” I smiled and responded that I was glad to see him, too.

Reaction Junkie gave Pup a “Good boy.” Then he said, “Now beg. Beg LFB for permission to stand up.” In a frustrated tone, Pup said he wanted to stand up. “Beg,” responded Reaction Junkie in that voice. Pup leaned into me and put his arms around my legs and pressed his head into my midsection. It brought to mind a puppy trying to burrow into someone to escape something scary. That made me feel bad for him, and I put my arms around his shoulders. He ran his hands up and down the backs of my calves, which felt very nice. I petted him for a moment before he looked up at me and in a small voice if he could stand up. I smiled down at him and gave him some head scratches. Then I told him he was a good boy and that he could stand.

Pup stood up. I got involved in a couple of conversations, and then found myself talking to Reaction Junkie. I said something to him about how I feel about topping/domming. When I told him, “I’m not good at being dommy,” he told me that I was. I disagreed. Reaction Junkie got Anderson Cooper’s attention and instructed him to look into my eyes and “tell LFB she’s good at being dommy.” Anderson Cooper told me, “I’ve seen you with Reaction Junkie. You’re good at being dommy.” I was about to protest, but then Reaction Junkie looked at Pup, about to give him the same order he gave Anderson Cooper.

Before Reaction Junkie could speak, Pup said, “You don’t have to tell me,” looked me in the eyes, and told me, “LFB, you’re very good at being dommy.” I could tell from the look on his face and the tone of his voice that he was completely sincere. I stopped arguing and accepted the compliment the three men had given me. “Oh…well,” I blushed and looked down, “Thank you.” The whole thing made me feel pleasantly embarrassed, boosted my self-esteem, and left me feeling more confident about exploring that side of myself.

Part 2

Same disclaimer as for Part 2. Also wow. So much has changed since I initially wrote the notes for this. I’m much better about a lot of things. Progress!

I stifled a scream at the painful impact. When I was able, I crawled onto the couch and curled up next to Reaction Junkie, needing cuddles after such a painful exchange. When I looked up, Anderson Cooper and Radical Girl were making out. Reaction Junkie commented on the entirely not unexpected nature of the event, and I laughed. Then I started to feel something negative rising up. It was akin to jealousy, but it had a different flavor than my usual jealousy feelings.

As I tried to untangle my emotions, I felt a tear fall down my cheek. Then another, then another, and a minute later, I was crying fairly hard on Reaction Junkie’s shoulder. He noticed and said, “Hey,” and told me to put my right leg over his lap to straddle him. I did so, and he hugged me close while I cried.

I figured out that part of why I was crying (besides the rush of a thorough beating) was that I wanted to be making out with both of those people )or at least that I’d like to make out with them more than I do, not necessarily right then or at happy hour). I feel like I don’t know how to make those sorts of things happen. Not easily or smoothly, at least. So, yes, okay. I was envious of Anderson Cooper for getting to make out with Radical Girl, and envious of Radical Girl for getting to make out with Anderson Cooper. Not in a mad way, though. More in a FOMO way.

Another piece of the feelings puzzle was that I didn’t know how much I really wanted to be making out with Radical Girl/I thought I might want to want it more than I actually did. And that’s a frustrating place to be. (Ed. Note:My how things have changed.) Finally, the tears were also partially about the fact that Reaction Junkie and I were both clearly interested in Radical Girl, and that brings up all kinds of things. I talked about all of these things with Reaction Junkie as I cried on his lap.

The tears weren’t stopping, so he decided to take drastic measures.He took a breath and then blew an incredibly loud raspberry on my chest. I started to smile. He did it again, and then again, blowing them on my tummy, my sides, all over me. I started to laugh. By the time he pushed me back so my upper half was resting on an ottoman and blew one on my inner thigh, I was gigging like a small child, and the tears had entirely stopped. Anderson Cooper and Radical Girl were laughing as well. In fact, half of the upstairs had noticed. I felt a bit bad for interrupting some people’s headspaces, but I was mostly feeling giddy and contented.

My mood much improved, I started having goodbye conversations. Radical Girl told me she thought I was amazing at taking the beating, and that I looked good while receiving it. I could feel her admiration and was pleasantly embarrassed at her compliments. I blushed and thanked her. We started talking about her hitting me, and I told her how much I liked it. Someone else mentioned me returning the favor. Although I wasn’t up for it at the moment, I made sure to tell her that I would definitely get her back another night. She seemed like she’d had a wonderful time and wanted to come to more things in the future. I said my goodbyes to Radical Girl, Anderson Cooper, The Violinist, and everybody else, paid my tab, and Reaction Junkie and I headed home.

What a wonderful happy hour. I got to spend time with an awesome new friend who will maybe become more than that* (and yes I have a crush on her. There I admitted it. Happy now?). I got to play with my new Pup, and both he and Anderson Cooper told me I was good at being dommy. I had plenty of good conversation with new and old friends and acquaintances. I got one of the best beatings I’ve had in a while. And, best of all, while I did have some envy/jealousy feels, they were of an entirely different species than the sort of jealousy that has been plaguing me these past couple of months. Therapy and adding a new anti-depressant seem to be doing the trick. I’m excited to see what fun this new, not-shitty-feeling LFB will have!

*I wrote this paragraph soon after this happy hour, and I’m pleased to say that she has become more than that. :D And reading this, I realized that I’ve changed a fair amount since this happy hour.  It’s nice to look back and see that even though I still I have a hard time with things at times, I have improved. I am getting better.