Nowhere left to hide

He promised he'd beat me, fuck me, make me cry and break me. And he did all these things, but not in the way I anticipated. I expected a menacing sadist forcing me to do his bidding: I got a man who was firm but compassionate. Instead of a wall of forced submission and pain to shield myself behind, I was left completely exposed, more vulnerable than ever before; I was confronted with my own deep desires and persuaded to admit what I really wanted. There was nowhere left to hide.

~~~

I waited, sick with nerves, for him to arrive. As instructed I'd gingerly inserted the anal plug and carefully selected clothes that were disposable. My hair was precisely arranged to hang over my eyes; it wasn't much of a defence but all I had. If I couldn't see him, if he couldn't look me in the eye, I'd be safe. It meant that for the first hour of his visit I saw only his hands and shoes. He teased me for hiding, but didn't force me to look at him - he knew I'd look eventually and it would be all the more powerful when I did.

His gentle manner was so in contrast to the last time, when he'd aggressively stripped and raped me; it threw me. Given I couldn't look at him, only his unmistakable voice assured me it was indeed Mr Flame in the room with me. 

My clothes were reverently removed; he complimented what he found underneath and made me shiver with caresses across my skin. My hands were comfortably secured behind my back. I was praised for complying with the butt plug.

In this initial stage I was too nervous and hidden within myself to be capable of much speech. He coaxed me to talk aloud and only when I persistently failed to speak clearly, did he reprimand me.

The first blows were a spanking, sensual from his leather gloves, making the plug throb inside me. It was not uncomfortable. The brief introduction to the nipple clamps made me whimper, but once removed, his hands were cold and soothing. 

When he placed me kneeling facedown on the bed, with my legs apart, hands still secured behind me, the fear returned. He used a variety of implements on my back, arse and thighs. There were many painful blows but none that let me escape from him completely. Just as the intensity would build he'd pull back. It was disconcerting and pulled me out of hiding within, confused with what was going on, resenting the lack of pain to bury myself in.

I became less compliant, moved out of position to goad him, challenged him verbally. But there was no reaction. A few painful strokes of something - the knotted rope flogger, the sharp square ended leather one, the thin whippy cane, but no release. All the time, he encouraged me to let go, to give in.

"To what," I screamed in my head, "I've nowhere to go."

When he released my hands, he laid me on the bed and climbed on top of me, several fingers deep inside me, firm but not rough, demonstrating how wet and inviting I was. Gently stroked my body, encouraging me to please him.

I felt every last bit of submissiveness had left me and pushed him away. We struggled briefly until I escaped to a corner of the room. He followed, dragging me back and pinning me on the bed. I fought again, until I wrestled away again to the opposite corner.

And sat there hugging my knees in bewilderment whilst he sat on the edge of the bed, silently watching me. I berated myself inside: "What the hell are you doing? What kind of submissive are you? Did you break him already?" And then silently turned on him. "Why didn't he do anything? Why didn't he take charge?"

The tears that came then were borne of frustration and disappointment. Eventually I told him I didn't want to fight with him.

"You're not fighting with me: you're fighting with yourself. Give in. Let go."

And there he had me; the painful realisation broke me. He could have forced me to stay on the bed, could have forced me to do anything, but it wasn't about him: it was about me.  He beckoned me to him and I crawled across the floor burying myself in his lap, crying as he stroked my hair and whispered encouragement. It was a cathartic release for a very confused mind. A very strange and unexpectedly place to find myself mid scene. 

Finally, I asked him to continue. Admitted to him, to myself, that I wanted him to do these things to me, such things I'd ever only let myself be forced to do. Pleaded for him to take my submission, now I offered it willingly.

I don't know if he sensed my need for punishment; whether he wanted to continue the catharsis; or, whether he wanted me to feel the full force of my submission, but his next act was as brutal as everything else previously had been compassionate.

He pinned me face down on the bed, his hand painfully tight on my neck. With his other hand he opened his trousers and retrieved his cock, pulled me up by my hair and impaled me on it, burying the length of it in my throat. I couldn't breathe, could only gag, but he would not release me for many long seconds. Then, a brief respite for air and back to fucking me violently. 

He continued for some time, continuously bringing me to wild despair at not being able to breathe. I tried to beg, but the sounds were intelligible and merely amused him. When he finally released me, he pushed me face down into the mess of tears and drool that had soaked the bed; there was no hiding from what I had just done.

Strong arms then pulled me up and laid me on my back. "I'm going to fuck you now." I braced for the onslaught, but the beast had disappeared again; he was gentle, it felt good. I didn't know how to process this. Resorted to my usual responses: "NO, please stop."

"You don't want me to stop, do you? I know you don't. Be honest."

No, I didn't; it killed me to admit it, but I shook my head confirming his suspicions.

"Tell me you want it then, good girl, tell me you want me to fuck you, beg me to fuck you."

For the first time that afternoon I faced my fear and looked him in the eye. And for the first time in my submissive life I wanted a man to fuck me, not for his pleasure, not for my defeat, but because I wanted him to.

 "Please fuck me Mr Flame, please fuck me Mr Flame, please..."

Saying the words made me cry. His approval made me cry even more. And then the final breaking point: I asked me to fuck my arse. Positioned myself on the bed waiting for him, was completely complicit in the act, and thanked him for it afterwards.

My first consensual submissive experience. The greatest mind fuck ever. A gift.
 

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. 


 

A first time for everything

We sat facing each other, tension in the air. I wanted her, I thought she wanted me. Both of us too shy to make a move. I softly admitted to having a crush on her. She responded by leaning over and kissing me, softly, slowly. My mouth opened and I followed her lead. Not the first time I'd kissed a girl, but certainly the first time my body reacted like that.

She pulled back and smiled at me. I smiled back shyly then leaned in for more. So soft, so gentle, so different.

When she took my hand and led me upstairs I was uncertain, feeling truly like the virgin I was. She whispered that she would show me and asked was I going to be a good girl for her? I melted and was hers.

In the bedroom she kissed me again, then slowly removed my clothes until I was before her naked. More smiles as she told me I was beautiful and kissed me again, just as softly. Her hands gently moving over my body, caressing my neck, my breasts, my stomach. reassuring me.

I drank her in, intoxicated by her smell, her sweet touch, the thrill of the first time. Told me to lie on the bed, I watched her undress, admiring her body, greedily looking at it properly for the first time. Beautiful.

Then pressed her body on mine, and gently pinned me, kissing me all over, enjoying my reactions. Dipped her hand between my legs, found me wet and inviting. Kissed me as she stroked my most intimate place. All so soft, so gentle and so hot. The complete opposite of any sexual experience I'd ever had before.

Moved down my body, kissing and caressing as she went until she was between my legs and giving me sweet pleasure, the like I'd never felt before. So relaxed, so open to what she was doing. I writhed and moaned under her touch. Closing my eyes and losing myself in the wonderful sensation, opening them and looking into her beautiful eyes.

Until the pleasure reached its pinnacle, shocking me with its intensity.

I struggled to breathe and understand what had happened while she smiled at me, delighting in my reaction. We kissed deeply and I sought to give her the same pleasure. Dipping my hands into her intimate place, caressing her gently then more firmly in response to her moans. Watching her face with delight as my efforts overcame her. Watched in amazement as she reached her pinnacle. More satisfying than my own.

And slept the night wrapped around each other. The most beautiful first time a girl could ever wish for.

Sexual freedom

Before I got into the BDSM scene I was inhibited during sex. I had desires that I thought were wrong and I held back from sharing them with most sexual partners, afraid of their reactions.

I eventually got with one guy who had some kinky desires of his own. Although they didn't exactly match mine I went along with them cos they were at least more interesting than regular sex.

He introduced me to sex shops, porn and anal and public sex. And I introduced him to spanking and roleplay. We then graduated to belts, whips, restraints, and towards the end, rape play. We both tried to compromise our kinks and had a lot of fun for a while until our differences meant we finally drifted apart.

So I went back to being inhibited with my dates. The more I liked them the more reserved I was sex wise. Until my rare one night stands became my only means of sexual freedom.

With these men I was completely uninhibited, asking for what I wanted. To be touched and fucked roughly. To be fucked in my mouth, my pussy and if I felt like it, my ass. I encouraged them to hurt me. Twisting my nipples, slapping my face, pounding into me so hard I gasped, scratching and biting me and even spanking me.

After one particularly great night where afterwards I was limp and sated I decided enough was enough. I couldn't go back to vanilla sex and vanilla relationships and having one night stands were not really for me.

And that's when I completely gave into my sexual desires and made peace with myself. I got into the BDSM scene properly and so far my journey has been very exploratory. I find my boundaries and limits are continually shifting. Some things I'd never do again, some things I have't had the inclination or courage to try yet. It's been a fun ride so far and I'm loving the freedom.

My personal epiphany

I used to only see sex as something that was part of being in a relationship with a boy. It was ok, nothing spectacular. I like the closeness and the connection but nothing else.

Didn't really see what the fuss was about. I only felt something if he got rough with me, tweaked my nipples or thrust into me hard. Then I'd get excited. But with most boys I just got bored if went on too long. That was before I realised I was into BDSM and that sex and intimacy with others is rarely about pleasure for me (as I discuss here).

I rarely orgasm during sex or BDSM play, or even after it. It's undeniable that I enjoy it. That it fulfils a powerful need in me, makes me unbelievably and nosily wet. That it takes me increasingly new heights of sensation.

And that is enough for me. To suffer and to experience and to feel. But rarely do I get a release. I don't choose it to be that way, it just is. And realising that and accepting that has been my own personal epiphany.

I don't need to cum during sex or play for it to be great, meaningful or special.