#thehammer

Since I’ve started a relationship with my Daddy, I haven’t bottomed to anyone else in the scene.  No reason for it, I just require a lot of trust and attraction before I even consider playing with someone.  So after many months of thinking about it, I finally decided that there was one person that I absolutely wanted to play with.

We’ll call him The Hammer because…well, that’s his name.  He’s handsome, charming, libertine…a rake if you will.  It’s not often I have a crush on anyone, but he’s definitely been the center of many of my young girl/older man dreams.  He’s probably the heart of many girls’ fantasies, when I think about it.  It’s not often I see him by himself: he’s usually surrounded by women, all who want a piece of The Hammer.  I often don’t bother, he’s a busy man and since I have as much sex appeal as watching paint dry, I assume he wouldn’t want to play with me.

Somewhere along the way, Daddy gave The Hammer permission to play with me, as long as certain limits were respected.  A tiny part of my brain was concerned that maybe he was only going to play out of pity.  but my extremely active libido didn’t care.

I don’t remember the exact details of what happened.  I was extremely nervous and extremely turned on as he began tying me up.  His touch was gentle, a lot gentler than I was expecting, but it contrasted heavily with the roughness in which he placed rope on my body.  The Hammer has incredibly soft hands, something he joked about afterwards.

When he raised my leg in a partial suspension, I’m fairly sure he could see how visibly wet I was; I could feel it on the inside of my thighs.  I wanted him to touch me, but it was probably best I didn’t ask.  It would definitely be crossing a line that I wasn’t ready to cross.

He blind-folded me and this is where details of what happen get hazy.  I remember being suspended, I couldn’t tell you how it looked, but it felt amazing.  I vaguely remember him whispering sweet things in my ear, like telling me I was a beautiful girl.  For some reason, hearing him say girl really excited me.  I WAS just a girl and he was a full grown man, doing whatever he felt like doing.

When he was done, he laid me face down on a pillow (perhaps it was a dog bed, but somehow the truth kind of wrecks the image I’ve created in my own head) and he laid on top of me and untied me as slowly as he originally bound me.  I’m fairly sure I was grinding against him and tugging on the hem of his kilt in an embarrassingly slutty manner.  Feeling his chest against my back and listening to his breathing did help me calm down, eventually.

The Hammer held me until I was actually able to think semi-clearly, but we were eventually kicked out of the Play House.  I think that was probably the most I’ve ever spoken to him about stuff that wasn’t related back to Rope Bite Baltimore (something that he runs), Welcome to Kink, BGSC (stuff that I run), or Dirty Things (a play party that he organizes and I advertise).  In fact, it’s probably the most I’ve ever spoken to him ever, since I tend to work through emails and texts more than actual conversation.  Hopefully it’ll provide some proof that I’m not a mindless little fetish girl-bot.

Pictures to come in the future, if The Hammer allows it, of course. :)