#mean paddle

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.

Part 3

In the morning, The Violinist and I both slowly woke up. I rolled over and gave him a good morning kiss. In return, he grabbed me and started hurting me. Sigh. How do I find such lovely men? He started punching my inner right thigh, working to “even out” the two sides of my body. I realized I had my mean paddle in my purse, so of course I told him. He pushed me towards my bag, telling me to retrieve it. I grabbed it and handed it to him. Next thing I knew, I was on my back and he was smacking my leg with the paddle. I fought not to make too much noise and grabbed a pillow to help me stay still. As he repeatedly hit my leg, I bit down on the pillow to stop myself from screaming.

When he finally stopped smacking my thigh, I needed a moment to catch my breath. He looked down at me, taking in my reactions to the treatment he was doling out, and grinned at me with a sadist’s grin. He leaned down and very lightly bit the bruise on my left inner arm that was the result of The Unknown Quantity’s rope. I yelped and pushed him away. I said, “Ouch! That really hurt. A lot.” He just laughed and hurt me some more.

All of my suffering was turning him on a lot. He grabbed a condom and started fucking me. I started rubbing my clit while he used my cunt. I don’t normally get off during piv for a number of reasons, but I thought it might be possible. Then he started making those kissing noises at me, instructing me to reach up and kiss him. This time, however, he was entirely out of reach. I whined at him and he told me to pick between kissing him and an orgasm. I responded, “A kiss!” and he let me reach up and grab his hair and pull him to me. I don’t regret that decision. I’m always really happy to find someone I actually enjoy making out with.

He motioned for me to assume the position, and I turned over, head down, ass up. Although he’d fucked me like that before, this time he took advantage of his knowledge that when he thrusts deep, it hurts. He fucked me so hard from behind and slammed into my cunt so deep that I actually pulled away a couple times. Each time I pulled away, I moved back, of course, because I know my place. I cried out and trembled, trying to handle his cock and not move. When he came, he came hard, making sexy noises and collapsing on top of me. I know he came hard because when he got up to deal with the condom, he couldn’t walk straight and almost tripped. Hee hee.

We cuddled and talked for a good while after that. He asked what I was doing after the next happy hour. I said I might be able to have him over, but I wasn’t sure. I do like this guy quite a bit, but I was, to be honest, leaving my night open for Reaction Junkie. I enjoyed The Violinist’s conversation and company a great deal, and I’m looking forward to getting to know him better and connect with him more. He’s mean and I like it. Eventually it was time to go, and he sent me off to see my parents covered in bruises I had to hide or brush off and feeling satisfied and happy.

Last night I spent quite a while Skyping with The Super Sadist, a “nice” young man I met off tumblr. We talked for a long time, and he’s genuinely intelligent and interesting, which was fun. We talked about kink and sex and preferences and even feminism. Obviously we both think it’s stupid bullshit thought up by ridiculous cunts and I clearly need to work on wiping the last vestiges of it out of my system. I’m glad he’s on the same page as me on the feminism thing. I wouldn’t play with a man who wasn’t.

After a long conversation, I eventually asked “Do you want to play?” I guess he had enjoyed watching me get off on Friday night, when I first met him, and that he liked the look of me and was curious to see what I would look and sound like while suffering instead of cumming, because he said he did.

His first question was “What do you have around to stick in your butt?” I grabbed my bag of anal toys and showed him the four toys I have, which range from tiny buttplug to gigantic dildo I’ve only gotten in all the way one time. He seemed pleased to see the giant one and we decided I should clean up and call back.

When I came back, he told me I could work up to the big one if I wanted. I considered for a moment, since when I get fucked I don’t do much prep, but decided this time it would be a good life choice. It definitely was the right choice in this instance, because his nickname is The Super Sadist for a reason. I started putting lube on and then was a stupid, but properly behaved, bitch and threw myself under the bus by asking, “Can I use lube?” I didn’t have to say that. He gave no indication that he wasn’t going to let me use lube. There would have been nothing outwardly disobedient if I hadn’t asked. But I still did because I thought of it, and if I think of a clarification to ask for and the answer could make my life more difficult, I really should ask.

He thought for a bit as I sat there with fingers crossed. He told me that I could use lube on the smaller ones I was using to get myself ready for the big one. I sighed in relief because I’ve never actually had anything in my ass sans lube before. I used plenty of lube as I used my second biggest dildo to loosen myself up. When I felt ready, I grabbed the big one and, positioning myself so he could see what he wanted, I started to push it in. There was enough lube that it went in fairly easily, considering the fact that it has obnoxious ridges.

Finally, after a fair amount of groaning and grimacing, I’d pushed it in as far as it could go. It wasn’t entirely bottomed out, but it just wasn’t going anywhere. I told him it was in as far as it could go, and he said okay. I wanted to do my best, so I tried one last push and said “Yup. Definitely in as far as it can go.” and he told me “I believed you the first time.” I guess I don’t come across as a lazy sub who will lie to wiggle out of the last bit of dildo.

I looked at him to inquire what to do next and he said “Now take it out. Duh.” so I pulled the damn thing almost all the way out. He had me fuck my ass with it, pushing it in as far as I could, then pulling it almost out. After a little while he instructed me to pick up the pace, so I went faster. He seemed to be enjoying my expressions of pain and discomfort, and the trembling/shaking I was doing. It’s good to know that even at a distance I can still manage to provide entertainment via suffering.

Fucking my ass with the large dildo was difficult and uncomfortable, but eventually I got loose enough that it didn’t really hurt anymore. The Super Sadist noticed and asked if it hurt less. I was, of course, honest, and told him that it did. He told me to use a bigger dildo and I told him I was using the biggest one I have. He wanted me to use something else, but I said I didn’t have anything rated for anal penetration. Then I thought of a compromise that would achieve the goal of making it more difficult and painful, and I offered it right up to him. I said that I could wipe the thing off, since there was lube in my ass and on it from when I was loosening myself up with the smaller dildo. I knew it was going to be super unpleasant, but he wanted to watch me suffer more, so I also knew I had to do it.

After I wiped the dildo off, he had me push it back in. The first bit was still fairly easy since there was still lube in my ass, but after an inch or two, it was rough going. Still, I managed to get it in as far as it would go. I was wondering in what he’d have me do next, and I was worried he’d have me fuck myself with it more, now that they was little lube left. That’s not what he did. What he did sucked just as much, if not more.

“Hit it,” he ordered. I was a little out of it, it realized he wanted me to hit the dildo in, so it would slam up against me inside. I did so, but not as hard as I should have he told me “Again.” and I repeated my efforts, not improving much. We continued this for a while, him chastising me for hesitation and saying be didn’t want any of this self-preservation instinct bullshit. He’s right, of course. Having those instincts is fine, but when they’re interfering with a man’s pleasure, then they become a problem.

I kept up with the hitting, feeling it smacking against my insides, making me twitch and moan. Eventually, he had me pull it out most of the way, which sucked, since most of the lube was no longer slick. I wasn’t sure what he was going to have me do next, but I was worried he was going to have me shove it back in. He didn’t. He told me to hit the bottom of the dildo and to hammer it in. I started doing that, still with my ridiculous hesitation. I did start improving, though, especially when he told me that the timer between strikes started when he said “Again,” not when I actually hit the dildo. That motivated me to do better, to go faster. He started leaving less time between strikes, just long enough for me to catch my breath. That also helped, because I had to focus on the next thing I was going to do, not think of worry about the pain I was going to experience.

Next, he told me to slap my cunt after each strike. I took a deep breath and spread my legs a little wider. After in did this a few times, I thought back to Friday night with Marxman, and how he’d made me hit my cunt with the mean rubber paddle. Then I just dove head first under the bus like the over eager cunt I am and told him about the paddle. I said that I would probably be able to hit myself harder, or at least cause more pain if I used the paddle. Then I proceeded to give him all of the information about the damn tool, including the fact that one side is meaner than the other. Luckily, he must have been feeling generous, because he allowed me to use the less harsh side. I told him that telling him about the paddle was one of the dumbest things I’d done in terms of offering up data that would result in suffering for me. He laughed at me and agreed.

I started using my closed fist to hit the dildo, since that allowed me to hit harder. Each time, I would hammer it in, then strike my cunt with the paddle. I curled up a little and groaned in pain each time, but each time returned back to position as soon as I was able. I wasn’t doing that great with the paddle, so I said I should hit multiple times, since that would get rid of hesitation and I’d hit harder, or else I’d at least be hitting multiple times. I did this for a while, and then he increased the number of times I had to hit the dildo, and had me hitting my hole with the edge of the paddle. After doing this for a little, and after a particularly hard hit to the dildo, I felt lightheaded, whether from the pain or not breathing right, I wasn’t sure. He allowed me a moment to start breathing correctly. Then I kept hitting the dildo and smacking my cunt for a decent while. We did interrupt to talk a little and tell offensive jokes about women, but other than that, I kept hurting myself while he watched.

Finally, he told me to pull it out more. When I did, I managed to pull it all the way out like a dumbass. He started to tell me to push it all the way back in, but allowed me to avoid doing that this time, since I needed to go to sleep soon. He had me shown him how stretched I was by pulling my asshole open for him with two fingers. It was a humiliating thing to do, so of course I liked it. He told me I’d done a good job, which made me smile. I’m a sucker for praise like that from doms and tops. It motivates me. Makes me want to be good and push myself to do anything told.

Playing with The Super Sadist was an interesting experience. He’s younger than I am, whereas pretty much every one else I’ve played with is a year or two, or, more frequently, four or more years older than I am. I wasn’t sure I’d have the same urge to please him as I have with those older people. That was not the case. Although I did laugh at myself once or twice, looking in at what I was doing, I wanted to do a good job, to please him. Part of that was likely the fact that I want to be good when men want to use me, because that’s what my owner wants me to do. But part of it was my desire to submit and his attitude. He has a casual domination style, making me feel like he was amused, disdainful, uncaring, entertained at my expense, and maybe even mildly bored, all at the same time. I wanted to behave, to please him, to hold his attention. I wanted to do what he was telling me to do. Especially when he was saying “Again” over and over, rapidly, and when he was clearly enjoying my pain.

I enjoyed being useful to him, despite the suffering. It was a new kind of pain and discomfort than other people have given me, especially with the added challenge of having to do everything to myself. He was unmoved (at least unmoved to sympathy) by any of the reactions I had, and he clearly enjoyed watching my struggle, pain, and discomfort on a number of different levels. He’s a mean fucker, and I like it.

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*