#the weekend i needed
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.
Sunday morning started slowly. Reaction Junkie and I had planned to have anal in the morning, but we’d gotten in very late, stayed up late to play with the kitten, and been woken up during the night by her antics, so there was no anal, sadly. We woke up and played with the kitten for a while. I was supposed to go to Boy Genius’ birthday party that day, and I’d originally planned to leave right after I got up so that I could go home, but I was having such a good time, especially once his friend, Cunt Destroyer (hey, that’s the name she put in my phone when I got her number) got there, that I decided to stay for a while longer before leaving.
While we waited for Cunt Destroyer to get there, Reaction Junkie and I sat in the living room and played with the kitten. Cunt Destroyer arrived and we got introduced to each other. Someone mentioned Starbucks, and I got a craving. There’s a Starbucks right across the way from Reaction Junkie’s apartment building, so I said I was going to get some. Reaction Junkie asked me to get him something, as well, and of course I said I would. I grabbed the keys and headed out the door. Before I left, Reaction Junkie told me, “When you get back, I’m going to be tied up!” I grinned and headed out.
Reaction Junkie had asked me to get him a baked good, and I decided that I deserved one as well. I walked around the grocery store and decided to check the Oreos, hoping, but not expecting, that they would have Mega Stuf Oreos. Much to my surprise and delight, they did! I bought them and headed back to the apartment. When I walked in, Cunt Destroyer had Reaction Junkie in cuffs, of course. I enjoyed getting a chance to watch someone being casually toppy towards him, since that was something I’d been wanting. It was helpful to see how she handled complaints of things being too hard or too painful.
I especially enjoyed it because she’s fucking awesome. She’s into consensual misogyny/has a misogyny kink, and I always like meeting people who share that kink. Also, she’s Jewish, so she has a Nazi fetish, obviously. In addition, she works two interesting jobs: stripper and EMT. We definitely share a sense of humor, and like similar things, kink-wise. For instance, when Reaction Junkie told her about the play I’m not allowed to talk about, she was totally into it and proclaimed it “sweet” of him. Which I totally agree with, despite the fact that other people would call it “disturbing” or “fucked up.”
After a little while, another one of Reaction Junkie’s friends came by. We all talked and played with the kitten, and the three of us were kinda toppy/dommy towards him. At one point, Reaction Junkie was laying on the floor with his hands cuffed in front of him. He commented to me, “You could cuff my arms behind my back.” I gave him a look and said, “You’re right. I could.” I sighed at him in faux-annoyance and told him he should probably ask for things he wants instead of being coy. Then I obviously grabbed a key and cuffed his hands behind his back. When I went to sit back down, I stepped on him and heard him make a little noise, which made me smile. I sat down and put my feet on him, using him as a footstool. I enjoyed that. He’s a comfortable person.
By this point, it was a little past when I would have needed to leave to go to Boy Genius’ birthday. I was having such a good time, didn’t really feel up to driving or being with a big group, and wanted to get to know these people better. I’m a bit sad I missed it, especially because there was laser tag and I would have gotten to see The Violinist, but I’m even more happy that I stayed because I had a fantastic day with Reaction Junkie and everyone else.
When I woke up from my nap, I felt less tired, but still kind of down. I looked around the room and saw Reaction Junkie. I decided I should go join the group he was talking to and cuddle up to him, thinking that was likely to make me feel better. I walked up and leaned into him. We greeted each other and he returned to what he had been saying while I sleepily cuddled him. As I listened to the conversation, I started to feel better.
When there was a break in the conversation, I told Reaction Junkie about my scene, which he’d already heard about from The Unknown Quantity. I also shared how I’d started to feel super tired and kind of down afterwards. He seemed concerned and asked if I needed to leave. I definitely didn’t, but it was nice to feel cared for like that. I was feeling a bit better after I talked about it, and I started to get more involved with the conversation.
While we were talking, Reaction Junkie grabbed me somewhere, and I saucily told him, “That’s not where it hurts.” The Unknown Quantity had clearly told him about the intense thigh slapping and how sensitive I was, because he grabbed my left inner thigh. I yelped and he picked up my leg, throwing me off balance. I grabbed onto him with both hands to avoid falling. He pulled my left leg up far enough that the position forced me to stand on tiptoe on my left foot. The pain and the control he was exerting over me started bringing me out of my low mood, and as we continued to play, I came out of it completely.
As we played and he hurt me, we talked. I brought up something I’d been thinking about for a few days. I’d had some feelings (read: twinges of jealousy) when I watched him playing with Legal Lolita on Wednesday. Part of the reason was that I wasn’t doing my normal logic-based countering of those feelings, but when I thought about them some more, I realized I had felt the most bothered when they were kissing. I’m not big on kissing with the majority of people, for a number of reasons, but I very much like kissing Reaction Junkie. For example, the other weekend, just as I got out of my car to head to his vanilla friends’ party, he pushed me up against the side of the car and kissed me enthusiastically. It was dominant and passionate and I just about melted.
I’d realized most of what had made me uncomfortable about watching the scene he had with Legal Lolita was the kissing part, and that those feelings stemmed from the fact that I feel like he and I don’t kiss enough. Instead of bottling it up or trying to subtly encourage him to kiss me more, like I might have once done, I decided to just tell him I wanted to kiss more. So, while he was grabbing my bruised inner thigh, I said, “I like kissing you and we should do it more.” I was nervous when I said that, so when he responded that he also like kissing me and that “we don’t kiss enough,” I was relieved. “Kiss me,” he ordered. I smiled at him and obeyed. He repeated this command throughout the night, which was incredibly sexy for multiple reasons, and made me feel warm and fuzzy in all the best ways.
The group decided to sit down and Reaction Junkie chose a high chair. He pulled me to him so that I was between his legs and continued squeezing my thigh and hurting me. Eventually he said, “Get a coil of rope out of my bag.” I did as I was told and handed it to him. He tied it tight around my upper left thigh and pulled it taught around the arm of the chair. I enjoyed the pain this caused, but what I didn’t realize was that he had more than one reason for doing it. Not only did it make it easy for him to hurt me, it left him with his hands more free to do other things.
He started punching and slapping my tits, focusing on the right one. I’d told The Unknown Quantity that I didn’t want him to punch my tits, but Reaction Junkie owns me, so he obviously has no restrictions on what he does to me. My body and mind belong to him, so he can do whatever he likes to me. He punched and punched, and I winced and yelped, fighting the urge to pull away. I lost that fight a couple of times, and because my left leg was still in the air, as I leaned back, I almost fell over. Reaction Junkie saved me each time, although it wasn’t entirely out of concern for me, since he grabbed my tit to pull me back towards him. At the same time he was pummeling my tit, he was pulling the leg rope tight, hurting me multiple ways at once. As he watched my pained and pleasured reaction to the treatment, he grinned at me and said, “Oh, I like you.”
Eventually, as the breath was knocked out of me with a punch, I felt like I was getting close to a limit of what I could take from being punched. I asked him if he would please switch to only slapping. He opened his hand and brought it down super hard on my tit. “Like this?” he asked. I said yes, because, although it hurt, the pain was much less concentrated than with the fist, and I felt like I could handle much more of it. Reaction Junkie slapped and grabbed and squeezed and pulled my breast tissue away from by body, and I trembled with the effort it took to handle the pain, and because my cunt was soaking. I was happy and smiling and, at the same time, grimacing, moaning, and groaning at the suffering Reaction Junkie was causing.
When I felt my tits, the right one (the one he was hitting) felt full of blood. I thought it was pretty likely that I would get a nice big bruise, à la MLAM. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Next time, I’ll have to be a brave little cunt and be better at handling more. I want to be black and blue and red all over from Reaction Junkie. I love the reminders of who my body belongs to and what it’s for.
The party ended and a group of us, including Reaction Junkie, The Unknown Quantity, and me, left the play space and headed to get food at a diner. There were actually some decent vegan options, and I ate my mac ‘n cheese and chicken fried seitan while chatting with people. We were all happy and laughing, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
Reaction Junkie and I got dropped off back at his place, and we headed inside. We had to play with the kitten for a while (poor us, tossed right in that briar patch), since she was full of energy and needed to be tired out. Eventually he and I both fell asleep. I woke up several times in the night with the kitten running around the bed or climbing on me, her little claws digging into sensitive skin, including my tits. Finally she tired out and fell asleep, purring, in the crook of my arm. I finished a lovely day by cuddling up and sleeping with two adorable, wonderful creatures.
The Unknown Quantity and I found a space and started a brief negotiation. We’d done a fuller one the previous day. I told him where my new bruises were so he could hurt me, and told him I didn’t want my arms tied that day. Then he grabbed me and basically tossed me to the floor. As the scene started, I added a few more things that I didn’t want, including that I didn’t want my tits punched, only slapped. He listened and acknowledged what I was saying as he tied my legs.
When I was done talking, he started with the hitting. He didn’t think he was much of a sadist, but I can tell you that he very much enjoyed my pain reactions throughout the weekend. My poor inner thighs were already bruised from The Violinist, so when The Unknown Quantity started hitting me, it hurt more than it normally would have. I started struggling, and he grabbed my hands to hold me down. I squeezed his his thumb so that I could take more and move less. When I told him that’s what I was doing, he nodded and allowed me to keep holding his hand while he hit me.
Eventually, he needed both hands (the better to hurt me with, of course). When he returned to the grabbing and beating, I tried to be good and stay still, but I started thrashing. Reaching out in desperation for something to hold, I managed to grab the edge of the mat with my left hand, but my right hand grasped at nothing. I was trying not to kick, so I made a fist with the right hand and slammed it into the mat. The Unknown Quantity saw my half-failed attempts to control myself and stopped hurting me for a moment. I caught my breath while he stood up and grabbed a bundle of rope. He put it on my chest and said, “Hold this right there.” I clenched the rope in my hands and channeled my desire to struggle into squeezing it tightly.
He moved back to my legs and held them down. After he slapped my thighs a few times, the next thing he did challenged my desire to take as much as possible, physically and psychologically. I felt something digging into my leg. Something sharp. He was using the same thing he’d used the night before, but now my legs were even more sensitive. It felt like he was going to push the point right through my skin each time he jabbed it into my thigh. I was shaking with the effort it took not to move from the pain and the mental anguish. A bolt of fear shot through me each time I felt the sharp object pressed into my flesh. I trembled, part of my brain in a half-panic, part of it trying to be logical. He wouldn’t break the skin. We haven’t talked about it. We didn’t negotiate that. But what if he just pressed too hard? No, he must know how to use whatever it is he’s using. He definitely wouldn’t break the skin…Right?
When he put the thing away, I was relieved for a moment. Then he started using his hands again. At first he was just punching my thighs, maybe throwing in some smacks. Then he grabbed both of my legs, holding me down. He knew I’d react strongly to what he was about to do, and he didn’t want to get kicked. He started slapping my upper left inner thigh. He did this rapidly and repeatedly, the pain building as he brought his hand down on me. I writhed around, clenching the rope in my hands as tight as I could, trying to take the pain. I attempted to kick my legs, to no avail. He’s stronger than me, had a good grip on me, and I was beneath him. As he continued slapping, my pain noises started getting louder and louder until I screamed. Each strike hurt worse than the last and each strike ensured that the next one would hurt even more. Finally, I couldn’t handle anymore, so I managed to get out a “Yellow! Yellow!”
He stopped slapping and switched to lightly, very lightly running his fingers along my reddened inner thigh. I twitched. He’d made my thigh so sensitive, that the lightest touch hurt. The Unknown Quantity seemed delighted at this discovery, and increased the force he was using until I asked, “May I please have some water?” I was thirsty, but I also needed a break from the torture he was inflicting on my body. He stood up and told me to stay put. When he came back with my water, he instructed me that I was still not to move my hands or the rope from where he’d put it initially. He helped me drink some water, and I took a breather for a minute or so.
When I indicated I was ready to start again, he pushed me back down. I was still holding the rope, but now he wanted to hurt my tits. He reached for the rope and I slowly let go, loathe to lose it. The Unknown Quantity considered for a moment and then told me, “Put your hands on top of your head, and keep your elbows on the ground.” I did as I was told, assuming a position that left my breasts completely exposed and vulnerable. It was also a position that was impossible for me to hold properly as he slapped my tits, hit my battered thighs, and grabbed them to dig his nails in. Every so often, a strike or a squeeze would be so hard that I would lift my hands off my head for a moment. Each time, I returned them, wanting to follow instructions. I cried out and thrashed around, trying and failing to keep my elbows on the ground. Any time I lifted them up, The Unknown Quantity would give me a look and tell me to return them.
At some point, in the midst of the pain and the fight to keep position, something happened. I started laughing. He continued to hurt me, and I kept laughing. Reaction Junkie had pointed out that laughing is sometimes my response to getting hurt. This was different, though. I couldn’t stop laughing. I was cracking up. Holding position was a lost cause as I gave in to the uncontrollable laughter. I wasn’t able to tell The Unknown Quantity that I needed to stop, but by the time I managed to choke out, “I think I’m done,” he was already taking the rope off. “I know,” he replied, which gave me a nice little shiver and cemented my subby feelings. We cuddled and talked for a while as I finally managed to get my laughter under control. I felt warm and giddy and very contented. When we stood up, he said, “This time you’re going to do something for me.” “Clean the mat!?” I said in an excited tone. He replied that yes, that was what he meant, and I ran off to grab some wipes.
That was a fantastic scene, and I really enjoyed the feeling of being pushed until just cracked up, laughing too hard to continue. The Unknown Quantity is hella fun, and, just as importantly, I feel super comfortable communicating to him what I need, before, during, and after scenes. I told him what kind of rope I didn’t want that day and that I was okay with my tits being slapped but not punched during this scene. I let him know when I needed breaks, and that I wanted to grab something so I could take more pain. He’s also observant and perceptive, which is important and sexy.
After The Unknown Quantity and I hugged and went off to enjoy the party, I went to find a place to sit down and recover from the scene. I got sidetracked by talking to people, and wandered between a couple of groups. Then I started feeling very tired, so I found a chair and sat down. I almost fell asleep sitting up, so I got up and went over to another group of people I knew. The drop expanded from tiredness to me feeling sort of sad and down, and I decided to go be by myself for a little while to recover. I nabbed a spot on the couch, curled up, and took a nap. The sounds, of impact, groans, screams, moans, and background conversation were the perfect lullaby.
Reaction Junkie and I had plans to do dinner and head to the party together on Saturday. Also, he’d just gotten a kitten! He’s fostering the adorable critter, and I was definitely excited to meet her. I headed to his place and was greeted at the door by an adorably post-nap Reaction Junkie holding a tiny creature in his arms. I squeed over her and provided some highly intellectual commentary. “Kitten!” We played with her for a while, watching her run around and play with toys.
Finally, we had to go eat, so we headed out. We ordered and I pulled out my card to pay for both of us. Reaction Junkie said he’d been planning to treat me, which was super sweet. I’ll have to let him do that another time. I don’t mind paying most of the time, depending on circumstances, but after dating someone who basically never paid, and when he did pay, wanted me to pay him back, I’m happy to be dating someone who is at least willing to pay sometimes.
After dinner, we headed back to Reaction Junkie’s place to wait for our ride and play with the kitten. We waited for a while, and then decided to just take the train in. When we got to the station, we ran into another friend of his. That’s something I like about him. He knows a lot of people, which means I get to meet a lot of people. It reminds me of how meeting MLAM greatly expanded my social circle, and definitely for the better.
When we got to the play space, I again felt no urge to do my customary social-anxiety-hide-in-the-bathroom-for-five-minutes thing, and simply started talking to people. I started chatting with a guy from happy hour who I’d spoken with a few times, Denver. He’s a subby type, and we started flirting a little back and forth. Eventually, I suggested a scene, and he agreed and we negotiated, although he wanted half an hour to settle in. Obviously that was fine with me, and I continued talking to people until he came over and asked if I was ready.
To be honest, I was nervous about being more than incidentally toppy in a public space, especially with someone new. We talked for a little while, he showed me the hitty things he’d brought, and I relaxed a bit. We found a space to play and I had him take off all his clothes except for his underwear. I started warming him up with my hands, spanking him and scratching my nails down his back.Then I started using the implements he’d brought. I hit him with the ping pong paddle, the nice side of the mean paddle (per his request), and a crop. I was talking to him and looking for reactions the whole time, but it was a little difficult to hear and my heart/vagina wasn’t really in it. We had kind of an awkward rapport. I did enjoy hitting him though.
About when I was feeling done with the scene, we got interrupted by some people who were going to do something in the space we were in. It was bad that we got interrupted, but I was also a little glad. Trying to do something I’m not confident about, in public, and without being into it was an unpleasant experience. I checked in with him afterwards and he seemed agitated about being interrupted. I asked him about it and he said he wasn’t, but he definitely seemed like he was. I asked him for comments and he said it was mostly good, but that I should take it “more seriously.” Either that or take a different attitude, like a high school bitch type. I know I may need work on my domly dom domminess, but also, I’m just never gonna be like that to any significant extent. I have much more fun being sarcastic and snarky and talking to the person I’m playing with and being a bitch and having fun with it. Maybe that just means Denver and I aren’t a good match as play partners.
I was feeling sort of unsettled after the unsatisfying scene, so I went and talked to some happy hour people. After a little while, I went over to Reaction Junkie and informed him that I wasn’t going to ask permission to go to the bathroom that night. He looked at me and said I’d be punished. I responded, “No. I won’t.” because my original intent for the evening was to at least try and be dommy and toppy for him. He’s so good to me, basically letting me sub out nearly all the time when we play, even though I know he’d like to have a chance to be all bottomy with me. I can deal with service topping for him, or having him top from the bottom, and I’m definitely up for doing that, especially when he mixes in a bit of being controlling and using a dom voice. But I also want to be able to just straight up top him, be a bit dommy, and get into the right headspace so I can fully enjoy taking on those roles in and of themselves and maybe even start feeling confident being the one making decisions and directing things.
When I was done talking to Reaction Junkie, I went over to The Unknown Quantity and started talking to him. He invited me to do a scene and my immediate response was an excited “Yes!” I felt like that would be just what I needed to pull me out of the funk I was in.
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.
I drove The Violinist and myself back to his apartment. We stopped on the way to get food, since I was starving. The first thing he said when we walked through the door was, “Strip.” I smiled, relishing being ordered around. I took off my clothing and we talked and ate. He was sitting in a chair and instructed me to sit at his feet, which I appreciated. When we were done with the food, he grabbed me and tossed me onto the bed to start hurting me. He’s most definitely a sadist, judging by how thoroughly he was enjoying my reactions to the suffering he inflicted on me.
He pushed me over so that I was face up on the bed, and got on top of me. He’s a boney motherfucker, so when he jabbed his knees into my already tender thighs and leaned his weight on me, it hurt like hell. He was slapping my thighs and tits, and then started punching. The thighs I could handle, and, in fact, I like having my thighs punched. But the tits? Oof. I much prefer having them slapped. I felt his fist pounding my flesh and writhed and fought my instincts, trying to stay still.
Throughout all of this, and the rest of the night and the next morning, he would make kissing sounds at me, like you would make to get the attention of a dog or cat, and lean just out of reach. I’d have to stretch up, usually worsening whatever pain he was currently causing, and struggle to kiss him. I don’t like kissing most people most of the time, but I enjoyed both the belittling, degrading nature of the game and the way he kisses.
We have an ongoing joke that he needs to even out my bruises after he spent one night giving all of his attention to my left thigh. I foolishly pointed out the bruises on my upper inner left arm to him. He started to press on the bruise left by The Unknown Quantity’s rope, but I jerked away and told him it was incredibly painful. He was feeling magnanimous, I suppose, because instead of using those bruises against me, he grabbed my upper right arm and dig his thumb in. I thrashed around, but of course I had no hope of stopping him. He left two obvious thumb prints on my arm, which, in combination with the ones from The Unknown Quantity on my left arm, mean that I’m back to constantly wearing a sweater or hoodie at work.
The Violinist wasn’t done yet. Far from it. He started grabbing my sensitive thighs and digging his nails in. I struggled and half-tried to get away, making nosies that were much louder than they should have been. I pressed my face into the bed as The Violinist mercilessly squeezed my thighs. I tried and failed to stifle a half-groan, half-scream, and he pushed my head harder into the mattress. He continued to work at my legs with his hands and I kicked and struggled not to be too loud. As the pain grew, screams turned to whimpers, and whimpers into tears. I’d started crying.
While crying isn’t a safeword for me, upon making someone cry, some people choose to stop of their own volition, especially when the crying wasn’t expected. Although I know crying doesn’t bother him (he seems to enjoy it, in fact), The Violinist allowed me to have a chance to catch my breath and stop crying. When I had recovered, we got back into things, him hurting me, me making pain noises. Eventually, he pushed me towards the bathroom and told me to take out my tampon.
When I returned, I lay down on the bed and spread my legs for him. He pushed his cock into my cunt, and I moaned. He has a nice cock that hurts a bit when he pushes it in the whole way. When he discovered that I made pained expressions and noises when he did that, he was delighted. He fucked me hard, continuing to hurt my tits and slapping me in the face a few times. He motioned for me to flip over, and fucked me from behind until he came, groaning and panting.
When we’d both caught our breath, he let me go get my vibrator. He wouldn’t tell me that I had permission to cum before I got close, so I started masturbating with some trepidation. I hadn’t gotten off since the previous Monday, but this time, the arousal from the party and playing with The Violinist did the trick. Within a few minutes, I was close. “May I please cum?” I panted. He waited a couple of beats before giving me permission, and I came hard, shuddering and moaning. I continued to experience aftershocks from the orgasm for several minutes. We cuddled up and both passed out, exhausted from the evening.
Anti-Feminist Libertarian Boy and I rejoined the party. We walked over to a group of happy hour folks and started talking. I really enjoy knowing a bunch of people, even if I’m shit at keeping names and faces straight. Boy Genius and I were slated to have a scene, so we started moving towards that goal. He got distracted talking to people, and while I was standing around watching, a guy I didn’t know came up and introduced himself. We got to talking and shared our kinks, and when caning came up, he asked if I wanted to be caned. I hesitated, unsure about doing impact with a total stranger, but then said that I would after my scene with Boy Genius. I looked over to him and signaled that I wanted to get started.
We walked over to the mat and I stripped. Boy Genius jokingly tried to engage my misogyny kink, but I told him “Don’t even try. That’s not your specialty.” He laughed and grabbed some rope. He tied me with my hands behind my back, arms bent, one elbow up, one down, and lowered me to the floor. He tied my legs tight and then grabbed them and put them on his shoulder. He doesn’t usually do impact, so I was pleasantly surprised when he started warming me up. He hit me with one of the quiet drumsticks (?) and spanked me. Then he pulled out a cane, which got me excited, since I do enjoy a good beating. He hit me a bunch, including a few times I briefly considered yellowing.
Finally, he had me pick a number between six and ten. I said “Seven.” “Are you sure?” he asked. I said yes, and he said “Okayyyy…” He hit me hard with the cane and said, “Seven!” loudly, followed less loudly by “Six, five, four, three, two, one.” With each number he said quietly, he struck me again, more softly. This wasn’t what I had been expecting, but I was pleasantly surprised. “Six!” Hard hit. “Five, four, three, two, one.” Softer hits. He repeated this down all the way to “One!” where he struck me the hardest. We ended the scene, chatted and laughed for a while, since I don’t really need aftercare for something like that, and then I went to find some more people to talk with.
I spent the rest of the night in conversation with people, some old, some new. At one point during the evening, I was talking with Reaction Junkie and Anderson Cooper. Reaction Junkie said that Anderson Cooper and I should play, and Anderson Cooper responded that he hadn’t topped in six months. Reaction Junkie responded, “Who said you’re topping?” and I told Anderson Cooper, “That’s pretty presumptuous. He offered you to me as a bottom.” I wouldn’t object to being topped by him, but he’s super fucking adorable, so I definitely want to try hurting him and ordering him around.
A little while after I returned from being outside, the guy who had asked if he could cane me earlier in the night must have noticed that I’d finished my scene with Boy Genius because he came over and asked if I was ready to play. I didn’t feel like it, but felt some weird internal pressure to do it since I’d said I would. I was about to go off with him, but then I decided to just be upfront and told him that I didn’t want to. He graciously accepted my decision and walked away. By this point, I had to pee, and since Reaction Junkie was there, I had to ask his permission. When I looked for him, however, he was busy, so I couldn’t ask. I told a couple people about it and they were highly amused by my discomfort. Ah, friendship.
As I looked around, I saw The Violinist sitting in a chair. We had plans to go back to his place after the party, and I’d seen him earlier in the evening and then lost track of him. When I walked up to say hello, he grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap and continued his conversation. I listened to the conversation and participated a little for a while until Anderson Cooper walked over. The Violinist stood up for a hug. I was slightly off to the side, but I got pulled in between them and they squished me. Oh no, being the meat in a “dudes I’d totally bang” sandwich. Pure torture! I was pretty happy about it. The Violinist pulled me back onto his lap and, when I told him about having to piss but not being able to, he squeezed my bladder a little, which I enjoyed.
Finally, I saw that Reaction Junkie was free. I chased him down (Almost literally. I had to walk half way around the room because we were both going clockwise.) and asked for permission. He pointed at the bottle of water I was holding and told me, “Yes, but you have to finish that first.” I pouted briefly and he told me I could just go, but he’d given me the instruction and I wanted to be good, so I said, “No, I’m gonna do it.” I chugged the thing as quickly as I could and speedwalked through the rope, beatings, and naked folks to the bathroom.
When I was done, I headed back over to The Violinist. We decided it was time to go, and I started saying goodbyes to people. I saw The Unknown Quantity and walked up to him and gave him a hug. He’d been talking with The Queene, and she said, “No hug for me?” I gasped, apologized, and said of course there was a hug for her. I’m really happy that she seems to like me because she’s an awesome lady. I said bye to a couple other people, hugged Reaction Junkie and said goodnight, and then The Violinist headed to his place for more fun.
I was in need of a good weekend. The week before last I’d had a depressive episode that left me feeling down, unlike myself, and with a mostly dead sex drive. Seeing Legolas on Monday helped me come most of the way out of it, spending the night with Reaction Junkie and hanging out with Legal Lolita on Wednesday helped even more, and so did not being home alone and awake for more than a couple hours a day during the week. But I still wasn’t completely out of it, especially with regards to my sex drive and ability to get off. I was hoping the weekend might help, since I was planning to go to at least one, probably two, parties. Little did I know, I’d have a fucking fantastic weekend where I’d get to spend lots of time with Reaction Junkie, have some excellent play with someone new, and make awesome new friends.
On Friday, I got to the play space a little later than I’d intended, but decided not to let myself stress about it. I payed and went inside. I actually saw a couple people I know talking, so instead of doing my customary overwhelmed thing where I go to the bathroom and chill for a minute upon entering the space, I just walked over to this group. Anti-Feminist Libertarian Boy was there, and he and I had a pleasant conversation. Also, despite finding his worldview abhorrent, I have to admit that he looked pretty good in jeans and a black tanktop. He claimed that he took his button down off because it was hot inside, and I asked, “Is that the oooonly reason?” He admitted it was also because he knew his arms looked good and owned up to being a complete douche because he’d switched his arm leg days at the gym so he could do arm day just a few hours before. As soon as he said “leg day,” I had trouble not laughing, so I went to go get water.
When I came back out, I started talking with The Unknown Quantity. We’d talked at happy hour a few times and seen each other around. We were talking about plans for the evening, and I asked him if he wanted to do a scene. He agreed and we started negotiating. He said he was more sensual than sadistic, but I tend to bring out the sadism in people, and this time was no different.
After all the pain and discomfort and wiggling and pain noises, he ended the scene when I said “red” to him using two fingers to press in really hard on my left nipple. I maybe should have yellowed instead, but it was probably about time for the scene to be done anyway. I actually did need aftercare, which is pretty impressive considering I don’t usually “need” it. I enjoy it with certain people, and sometimes want it, but I definitely went into subspace and got lightheaded with The Unknown Quantity. I was feeling better after we cuddled, and I got sassy and said “Somebody should wipe down this mat. Not me!” He indulged me and said he would do it if I went and got wipes. When I came back, the guy who wanted to use the mat next said that he would wipe things down, so I handed the wipes to him.
I looked over and noticed that Reaction Junkie was standing nearby, so I bounced over to him, still feeling headspacey and giddy. He told me that the scene was very hot, which made me happy to hear. Then I noticed that he looked not okay and saw something in his face that concerned me. I asked how he was doing. Not well. He’d been having a rough time over the last week, which I’d known from seeing him on Wednesday, but it hadn’t gotten better. In fact, he’d decided it would be best for him not to be alone that weekend. I was glad that on Thursday I’d offered to drive him to the Saturday party and that I would be staying with him that night.
We separated and I saw some more people I recognized. I said hello to the lady tops I’d met a few happy hours ago. When I told them I was doing very well because I’d just had a good scene, they laughed and said I seemed bubbly. It was good to see them. Especially because The Queene, who had offered to teach me CBT, again made me very happy by this time offering to teach me how to do sounding. I need to set up a time to learn, but I’m pretty excited!
When I left that group, I started feeling a little overwhelmed by the night, especially because I didn’t really see anyone to talk to. Since I wanted to write up the scene I’d just had while it was still fresh, I put on shorts and my hoodie (no shirt, obvs) and went outside. I started typing up my post about the scene and was almost done when Anti-Feminist Libertarian Boy came out. He was decompressing from a somewhat unsuccessful scene, and we talked for a minute before he read my signals and left me alone to finish my post. When I went back in, he was still sitting in the lobby, but got up and came back in to the party with me.
At dinner on Sunday night, I was out with Reaction Junkie, The Unknown Quantity, Cunt Destroyer, and some other new friends. I slid my phone over to Reaction Junkie so he could read the post I’d written about the Saturday night party. He started to read it out loud, but when I whined at him, embarrassed, he stopped and read it to himself. I explained to everyone what he was reading, and talked a little about my tumblr. Reaction Junkie must have decided to keep exploring once he’d read the post I’d intended for him to read, because the next thing I knew he was saying, “I’m at a play party and I just had an unexpectedly excellent scene with someone I hadn’t played with before, The Unknown Quantity…”
“Stop!” I said, feeling my face getting hot. I grabbed the phone and checked what I’d written. I knew I hadn’t said anything mean, and nothing super embarrassing, but I’m not confident about my writing. I gave it back to him, kind of okay with him reading it aloud, but didn’t leave tumblr open for him because I wasn’t that enthusiastic about the idea. He went online, found the post that way, and continued reading. I immediately got incredibly embarrassed again and changed my mind about letting him read it.
“No! Don’t! Please stop?” I said in a pathetic little tone. He kept going. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to read it out loud. Stop!” Nothing I said was making him stop reading. Of course, nothing I said was a safeword. I don’t often safeword for psychological things, but I was super uncomfortable and I’d been being a bit toppy (emphasis on “a bit”) earlier in the day. “Red!” I said, expecting him to comply immediately. He didn’t stop. I tried again. He let me know I couldn’t stop him, that I was powerless. I felt a little flicker of panic. “Safeword!” I said. Surely he’d stop. He just kept reading. I could feel myself getting hotter, and now it wasn’t just from embarrassment.
He finally did stop when I hopped up and grabbed the phone. Cunt Destroyer turned to Reaction Junkie and said “That’s not cool,” about his ignoring my safewords. He responded, “I know how far I can push her.”
That made me feel exposed, vulnerable, embarrassed, and it made my cunt twitch. It was also accurate. The whole thing was ridiculously hot. The feelings of being helpless, controlled, and having my wants disregarded combined with the twin embarrassments of having my tumblr read aloud and having my safeword ignored in public to create a recipe for arousal. He wouldn’t ignore a safeword in a situation with actually serious potential negative outcomes, but the reminder that he could do so, that he could decide to continue and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, that when he stops, it’s not because of something I’ve said or done, but because he’s choosing to stop…Just writing about it has me incredibly turned on.
After everyone put their clothes back on, we started our journey to the restaurant for dinner. As we walked, we were having a bunch of different conversations, ranging from serious to sexy to hilarious, and I was having a great time. I was holding hands with Reaction Junkie and walking along, thinking about my life and how I’d missed having a group of friends (as in, a group of people who know each other, not just a bunch of friends from disparate sources) and about how I was feeling about the fact that I have multiple partners who I see regularly. The Unknown Quantity was walking next to Reaction Junkie and me and I took his hand, as well. It was partially because I was feeling affectionate, and, to be honest, partially because I liked the mental image of me walking along with someone on each arm. As we arrived at the restaurant, I enjoyed the reminder that my life is now filled to bursting with friends, partners, laughter, sex, play, conversation, and caring.
We arrived at the restaurant and made the correct life choice and sat outside. We started talking and I decided to show Reaction Junkie the post I’d written the night before. I slid my phone over to him and he started reading it. I told people a bit about my tumblr. Meanwhile, Reaction Junkie found the post about my first scene with The Unknown Quantity. Then one of my favorite experiences of the weekend happened. Gods, I like this kid.
After I grabbed my phone back from Reaction Junkie, I actually ended up handing it to the Unknown Quantity and letting him read the post. When he finished, I was feeling less embarrassed about my writing, so I gave the phone back to Reaction Junkie, kinda hoping he’d read something else. He scrolled through, looking at posts, and came across the one about the bladder control from the previous weekend. He read that one out loud to the table while I squirmed in discomfort and delight. I then shared my tumblr with people, including showing Cunt Destroyer the face hitting/gender traitor post that the kink shaming rad fems hate most. She very much enjoyed it, which I felt good about. It’s always nice to meet people who share your fucked up kinks.
The rest of dinner was fantastic. I got to feeling really comfortable with these folks and there was plenty of good conversation, teasing, flirting, cuddling, and laughter. It was chilly out, and The Unknown Quantity was cold, so I offered him my hoodie. He demurred, saying that I probably needed it more. Reaction Junkie told me I couldn’t wear it, and after a few more offers, The Unknown Quantity finally accepted it. Eventually I got cold, and we cuddled together for warmth. The Unknown Quantity had a dish with crispy noodles on it, and I asked if I could take some. He said that I could, and I grabbed some. Before I could eat them, however, he told me, “I said you could take them. Not that you could eat them.” I pouted, but put them down on my plate.
Not gonna lie, even though it can be annoying, I like when d-types get literal with requests. MLAM used to do this thing where I would ask if I could go to the bathroom when we were doing bladder control, and he would happily grant that request. Then, before I would leave, he would grin evilly at me and say, “But you can’t piss.” It was a nice little prod at me, getting my hopes up and dashing them, and it was controlling and made me more attentive to what I was asking from him, since I had to be more careful with my language. Throughout the meal, I asked if I could eat the noodles, and he repeatedly said no. I liked getting little denials of my wants every so often.
At one point, conversation turned to politics and, more specifically, elections and voting. I told Reaction Junkie about Breastie’s question about if I would have voted Republican had MLAM ordered me to, and about my response that yes, I would have. Reaction Junkie seemed to like the suggestion and said that he was going to make me vote Libertarian. I don’t think he was serious, but I hope he will force me to vote a certain way. I really like the idea of being made to do something like that. It’s against most things I stand for, it’s something I can’t take back, but it’s mostly symbolic, so the negative externalities are basically negligible.
After we all finished dinner, we paid and headed back to Reaction Junkie’s place. I grabbed the Mega Stuf Oreos and offered them around to people. There were only a few left, and once they were almost all gone, I went to grab the last one, saying, “I’m going to have this last one.” Both The Unknown Quantity and Reaction Junkie asked, “Are you?” I just looked at them and said, “Yes.” They tried to give me dommy looks and I just laughed and said, “I haven’t ceded control over my diet to either of you.” and ate the Oreo. I probably deserve funishment for my cheekiness, but they weren’t even mad.
I ended up talking with Reaction Junkie, one of Reaction Junkie’s other partners, and The Unknown Quantity for quite a while. When it was time to leave, The Unknown Quantity walked me to my car. As we walked, the topic turned to sex (of course). He said he wouldn’t object to having sex with me, and I said I’d have sex with him. he’s a great guy, and a legitimately interesting person.
The weekend was like a shock to my system, and my depressive episode, already weakened by that Monday night with Legolas, couldn’t fight back against all of the pain, pleasure, and feelings of connectedness and belonging that I had over those three days. I’m back to a more even keel, and my sex drive and ability to get off have definitely rebounded. I even hate work less! A giant thank you to the friends and partners (and also the medication refill) who helped me push through those depressed and isolated feelings to come out even happier and better off than I was before.
