Who is Pollyanna?

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A girl who enjoys sexual freedom. Who seeks pleasure through pain. Who is eager to explore her sexuality through friendship and experimentation. A girl who loves easily and wants to be loved, fucked and abused in return. A seemingly fragile flower who offers herself to trusted people as a plaything.

Nov 28, 2013

Anything?


Mr Shine placed me on the bed facing away from the door and we waited. It wasn't long before Mr Flame arrived. I don't turn around, he'd have my attention soon enough.

"Anything?", he checks with Mr Shine. "Yes, anything."

Listening to your partner hand you over to a near-stranger is a thrilling, if scary prospect. Knowing that he's sitting watching what was about to happen just about sent me over the edge.

Mr Flame got straight to work, pushing me back on the bed, squeezing my neck as he carefully explained what he was going to do: "beat you, make you cry, make you beg, fuck you, HARD". His dark eyes glowed with intensity; I was immediately scared.

It didn't take him long to remove my clothes, laughing at my attempts to fight him off. I cowered on the bed naked, shivering slightly with nerves as he looked me over. Then his hands were on me, pinching, squeezing, probing, holding me down with his body weight, making me feel what he had in store for me.

Twisted my nipples until I pleaded for mercy, followed up with a leather paddle across my beasts until I screamed. 

It was a short lived relief to be ordered to lie face down; he began beating me on my arse and thighs, first with his paddle, then his cane. No warm-up, every stroke as vicious and intense as his attitude. When it became too much I squirmed away from him, only to be retrieved by my hair.

His voice cold and menacing: "If I wanted you to move, I'd tell you to."

In fear I clutched the edge of the bed screaming out my pain as he pushed me to my limits physicaly, the thuddy cane falling over and over in the same spot. When he finally stopped, I was crying, as much with the effort of staying still as the pain. 

I didn't have much of a respite before he appeared before me, opening his trousers. I had no chance to resist, his cock straight down my throat as he warned me to make an effort, to satisfy him. Then made it clear how much pleasure he was taking in fucking my mouth, whilst I struggled not to gag.

By the time he fucked me I was already broken. Beginning with me on my back first so he could watch my face as he forced himself into me; enjoying my gasps of pain as he pounded harder and harder. Then flipped me over taking me from behind, his guttural enjoyment contrasting with my whimpers. 

When he had finally taken everything he wanted I was discarded, crying and dazed.

Mr Shine came to comfort me, gently taking his own pleasure, reclaiming me, as Mr Fame watched in approval.

Not just anything; everything. 


 

Pollyanna loves fire

I love playing with new people. Especially those you meet in circumstances where credibility and trust are already implicit.

I was delivered to his door, blindfolded, not knowing who to expect. Would it be one of the several men known to me already, or the one uknown quantity?

I was excited and apprehensive in equal measure when he finally spoke, confirming he was the latter.

He was in no hurry to start, seeming to be quietly observing me; I could see nothing through my blindfold, and I heard no sound but his breathing as he moved around me.

Then, we traded back and forth for some time, trying to figure the other out. He telling me what he intended to do, whilst also carefully checking in with my limits. I, reassuring and goading him in equal measure.

I didn't have anything new to offer from the short written version of my limits that he had seen in advance.

My theory on limits and safe words is quite simple: I'll tell you the basics and we can agree a traffic light system in principle, but if I'm not comfortable I'll stand up and walk away. If you put me in a very deep, submissive state I'll be powerless to stop you doing anything you want anyway, so a safe word is useless. And frankly, if you've managed to get me that far you're entitled to take everything you want.

Still blindfolded, I was bent over the desk, my dress raised and my knickers to my knees, as he began beating with his various weapons. A flogger first.Then a paddle, of sorts. Something else, quite strange: a book!

I quietly received the initial blows appraising his ability, his judgment. I barely noticed how it felt, focused on deciding whether I could trust him enough to let go.

He encouraged me to be more vocal, which I did as he warmed into it, getting harder. His cane, thick and thuddy (very unfamiliar to me) drew a few gasps. Especially as he placed it in the same spot, over and over.

All the while we easily bantered back and forth, amusing ourselves with our cleverness.

When he drew me back to standing and removed the blindfold I wondered were we done. His fingers suddenly thrusting into me made me squirm. The wetness, the eagerness, all too apparent and he tried to shame me about it, but I looked back at him evenly, hiding any disquiet I felt.

"First your mind, then your body, then your soul"

Binding my arms behind my back I was made to kneel down, legs slightly apart, then to lay my forehead on the floor. It was a vulnerable and revealing position.

Despite having been fucked by, and played with a lot of men, and not being remotely shy about being naked, I still blushed inwardly as I thought of him taking his first view of me, open and exposed.

The cane strokes were much more difficult in this position, his probing fingers more humiliating: I couldn't help but cry out. And his words were starting to get to me too, until the point where I couldn't answer back anymore; he laughed that my wits had finally deserted me. 

It didn't take long for the tears to start falling; soon I was crying softly.

When I was permitted to stand I couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

He was amused:

"I can, and will make you do that, but that's enough, for now."

A flame had been ignited: Mr Flame.