Posted by red on November 15th, 2009 in Erotica, Girl Sex, Kink, Play Piercing

Being a switch can be challenging, because it can imply so much. This is not a post about that concept, however, the following tale does highlight a subtle yet important distinction I feel about how I roll when on the bottom. You see, I am an excellent bottom, I play that game quite well. But what I am not is submissive (well, mostly). I am not a “rotten submissive” – I make for a rotten submissive. Semantics, yes?

Anyways…

I had a date a few weeks back with the lovely Nyne. One of the many cool things about this woman is the fact that she writes about scenes quickly. This is definitely something I don’t do – it usually take me months, sometimes over a year. And that’s ok. So for your reading pleasure, another guest post from the lovely Nyne…

(…and I would be Cookie, just to clarify)

Negotiation started between Cookie and I in the wee hours of the morning on Monday night. I knew instantly what I wanted to do, and we simply needed to work out when it was going to go down. Informed of the circumstances she would enter into on the upcoming Friday night, she agreed to put herself on display before an audience, without the slightest grasp of what would be happening to her body.

Careful to remind her how many times she would sleep before the event, she surprised me with an impressively detailed list of yes no and maybe activities on Wednesday. It turned out that virtually none of the things I fully intended to subject her to were off-limits. This was spectacular news, as was the observation that at least some of those things I intended were listed as inexperienced but not off the table. Plans began to grow spindly fingers that pried into the edges of reality.

The time arrived, and she was showered and clean by the precise minute I assigned to her. Black earrings dangled elegantly from her earlobes, and red lip stain tinted her cheshire grin. She reminded me that she is a rotten submissive as we were joined by two others, I took my time to enjoy a few pieces of fresh sushi as I watched the excitement dripping from her tongue. She spoke to each of our two witnesses, inquiring and learning about what drew us all together for the occasion.

I had moved my bed from its origin on the floor and propped it, covered with a sheet, against the wall in a discrete corner. In its place, my massage table waited ominously with a small black suitcase just barely tucked underneath its shadow. An aluminum briefcase rested on the floor, attracting attention to itself, in the middle of the room. Lens plate goggles, surgical steel gauze cutting scissors, and a rolle of black bondage tape spoke subliminally to her from on top of the aluminum case. I sat up on the table and patted an adjacent area of it. She quickly disrobed and I told her precisely where to place herself. Taped against her face and under bondage tape, the goggles stripped her of sight.

In short order, despite her deliberately attempting to show just how rotten a submissive she is, her hands were bound together, arms abducted from their standard orientation at her sides, exposing the sensitive undersides of her upper arms. Knees bent, her legs were tied separately and apart. The full width of her mons featured an enviable carpet of curls. I probed into her folds with a small butt plug. This was promptly followed by a surgical steel vaginal speculum, to which I had secured two microbullets–one on either side of the upper blade. As it opened up, she became quite puzzled. With her body sufficiently restrained and blinded, I took the first opportunity to inform her of my additional requirements by turning my clippers on next to her ear. A quick and slightly uncharacteristic “what-the-fuck-is-that” slipped out of her lips.

I tugged lightly on her right labia and turned the clippers to the field. It didn’t take her long to figure out that I was shaving her, but she didn’t know why for another few minutes. When I was done shaving her labia, I held the clippers against her clit and inner labia–careful to give her just a slight taste without shedding a spot of her sex.

Two electrode pads–each placed delicately on her outer labia–were then connected to a TENS unit. With a medium pulse width and a low pulse rate, I pressed the pads down with my left hand while turning up the intensity with my right. Soon I was bracing one of her legs between my face and shoulder while I turned the intensity up and down in tandems on her speculum and electrodes. I told her I wasn’t done yet. Leaving the TENS on a medium intensity and her speculum on a low speed, I retrieved the black case from under the massage table. Inside it, a violet wand and three glass attachments. I quietly plugged it in while our witnesses produced involuntary vocal signals of the ominous threat from beneath the table.

Her nipples, lips, mons, labia, breasts, underarms, clitoral glans, and the inside of her upper arms, thighs, and cheeks, were subjected to the unwavering shock of the wand. She broke into hysterical laughter as the wand passed over the folds of her sex, and screams as it focused a charge on her clitoris. Before long, orgasms came spilling out of her as she pushed the speculum and butt plug out simultaneously. I slipped on a glove and jammed five needles in the underside of her right breast, pushed her body into the table, and repeatedly passed the wand over the needles. She squirmed and giggled and screamed as her skin tightened and swelled over the metal posts. The air was full of sexual compulsion.

I took the opportunity to hold the electrode pads down while my fingers stroked her folds until she figured out what was touching her. She told me she wanted my fist inside her, and I poured copious amounts of lube over my hand while I reached in with fingers pressed together. My middle three fingers curled up into her G-spot as I made the first push. I waited for her nod and pushed again. My hand slid completely inside of her as she closed in around me. I could sense how wet she was, at the brink of orgasm, as I massaged her G-spot with the knuckle of my thumb. She announced that I was relentless and quickly lost her capacity to articulate as my hand twisted.

Like a set of hands clamping down on my fist, she pushed against me. I promptly began rapidly pumping into her as she spilled cum across the entire surface of the massage table. Soon, I was holding my arm with my free hand, on my knees between her open legs, pushing in and pulling partially out of her. I made the final pull while she was in the throes of an orgasm, and spanked her pussy with my gloved hand. Cum splashed into the air and the scene assumed a natural finale.

The needles came out first–then the blindfold came off. The leg bindings and arm bondage followed suit. Sweet, gentle kisses and loving cuddles wrapped up our scene. She radiated a grin from ear to ear and a glow that lit up the room until her departure.