Applications for shower buddy now open.
touch
“Do you know how to take a pulse?” Flint asked.
We were on his friend’s couch, my dress hiked up to expose my upper thigh. It was already red and swollen from a few tenderizing punches and a couple of nasty slaps. Upstairs, one of Flint’s partners was messing around with his friend, though we couldn’t hear them from down on the couch. Earlier that week, Flint had texted me about it, saying he’d bring me along as entertainment while he essentially whored out his partner (for free, of course), a shared fantasy of theirs. I’d blushed, but totally agreed.
He made me wait for him on a street corner and pointed out the spot I’d left on his seat the last time I had sat there. Later, I would clean it up with my mouth. But, for now, we were on the couch downstairs. Flint was attempting to disprove my previous claim that I didn’t bruise, which had made him smirk uncontrollably when I had declared it at the munch we met at.
“Yes,” I replied, taking my fingers and finding the artery. “It’s…it’s pretty even.”
Flint grinned and delivered another blow to my thigh. I cried out in pain. I was starting to discover that I just about hated the medium-strength slaps, but I had begun to really enjoy the few that tipped over into the harsher ones. I’d start wailing and collapse into the hit, but would end up coming up giggling. Something about the absurd severity of the pain made me giddy.
“So, this whole thing, hurting you, it doesn’t really bother me,” he explained. “That pout you keep putting on isn’t going to sway me. You know your safewords. Otherwise, I’m just going to hurt you.”
His hands were large and unyielding. He didn’t hesitate before the slaps, going right into them and following through with a violent clap. He had me count down for the particularly hard ones. When he’d gotten me to a point that it was absolutely certain I would bruise, he reached up my dress and pushed a few fingers into me with my thigh still hot and stinging.
“Look at that,” he teased, before pulling back and slapping me across the face. “Going to leak on my friend’s couch, now? After the talk we had about my car? You can’t help yourself. You’re disgusting.” I felt my cheeks flush and looked away, but his fingers slid in me with new ease. He chuckled appreciatively. “Well, that really got you.”
Eventually, the fingers came out and he had me rest my head on his chest while we unpacked the encounter, going over how I felt about it. My thigh was still glowing with pain. Flint reached down and brushed my hair off of my forehead. “I like you.”
“I like you, too.” Against my ear, I felt the thumping in his chest pick up in speed and grinned. “There’s the pulse.”
Sometimes, your tenderness reminds me just as much as your violence of how deeply I’m yours.
Sweetheart, feeling very, very grown up.
Sir’s had to wear suits a lot lately and has been texting me photos and unf I can barely hold it together. I hope this era never ends.
This totally reminded me of myanonymouslair and citrustree. And then I realized I was totally reblogging this with from Mally. Heh.
“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass,
Be not afraid of my body.”–Walt Whitman
My favorite thing ever is when he brushes my hair after spanking me or fucking me. It’s this special little quiet time we have together, where we can just be tender and intimate.
Current status.
Piss Shy, Part Ten
Disclaimer: The content of this story is a little bit harsher and a little more intense than most of the experiences I have written about on here. Please keep in mind that I had safe words – “yellow” for slow down or do less, “red” for stop. The things I did were done willingly and enthusiastically, even when I demonstrated reluctant or fearful behavior. I like to be scared and I like to feel psychologically exhausted, and this experience allowed me to tread some harsher waters. So, I hope you’ll stick along for the ride.
We moved back into the living room and Lida and I mercifully got a little break after the degradation in the bathroom. Flint pulled the blindfold over Macy’s eyes and had her lie down, while I helped Lida and WRM hold her still as Flint spanked her pussy. The slaps were so hard that her skin rippled, but she took the whole ordeal like a trooper. She even handled him hitting her with a toy that looked like the antenna on a car from the 90s.
Afterwards, Flint had me lie back down while the other girls held me. “You ever hear of a hitachi?” he asked as the blindfold went on. I groaned an affirmative and he laughed. “You know what it is, then?”
“Hell,” I replied with a huff. “This isn’t fair, I’m not allowed to cum.”
I heard Flint plug the hitachi in and felt its end push up against my pussy. “Well, then don’t.” He switched it on and I gritted my teeth, breathing hard and trying to keep myself under control.
I’ve never had a hitachi pushed up against my pussy before without panties or stockings to act as a buffer, and I soon discovered that I am entirely too sensitive for it. I kept arching up and away from it, exclaiming that it was just entirely too much. To add to the discomfort, WRM shoved some of her fingers into my pussy. She’s got long nails, which just do not work with fingering at all (I don’t know how the girls in lesbian porn do it). Overall, the whole ordeal was profoundly awful, so I guess I didn’t have to worry about cumming.
That is, until Flint took charge of the situation once WRM withdrew her fingers and, thankfully, the hitachi was removed from my pussy. “Macy, come here,” I heard him say, “Learning experience.” I felt his fingers – they were large enough that I figured they weren’t Macy’s – slip into my pussy, which was still sore from WRM’s nails. “Here’s how to make a girl cum.”
My eyes widened under the blindfold and I tried to squirm away, “no! I can’t!”
“Now, take two fingers and try to find the spongy part right up in the back,” he explained calmly, didactically, totally ignoring my protests. I whined as I felt his fingers brush my g-spot. He patted my pubis almost clinically, “it should be right here but on the inside."
His fingers slipped out of me and I felt Macy’s slip in in their place. Lida and WRM held me down while Flint took a cold water bottle and rolled it over my body. The low temperature almost burned, and the condensation left in its wake made my skin incredibly sensitive as he started slapping it.
"You’re a whore, you know that?” Flint said as he grabbed my throat, choking me while Macy ground her fingers into my g-spot. “You met these people, what, a week ago? Do you know anybody’s last name here?”
“N…no,” I stammered out as he let go of my throat. Something in me snapped out of the seriousness of the situation, and I started laughing. I didn’t know anybody’s last name, and I absolutely loved that. The whole situation was absurd, preposterous. I’d thrown myself into the belly of the beast, finally attended a play party in my new city, and suddenly I was involved in a fivesome (orgy?) with four people I’d just met. “I’m a whore,” I said between laughs, “I’m a whore.”
Flint grabbed hold of my throat once more, which pulled me back into the situation. Macy ground my g-spot harder, and I lurched forward as I felt a splash from the bottle of cold water being dumped onto my chest. I gasped loudly and Flint slapped my breast, the cold water intensifying the pain of the hit.
I forget what I said now, but it was something super sassy towards Flint. Suddenly, I felt pain tearing through my chest and upper rib, and I though that Flint had hit me with the bottle. Turns out, he just slapped me a little harder. Regardless, I curled up, groaning in pain. “You asshole. You’re a jerk.”
“Glad you figured it out,” Flint rolled me back into position on the towel and I felt the hitachi being applied to my pussy again. “Now, I don’t care that you’re not allowed to cum. You’re here to entertain us and we’re going to make you cum.”
“I’ll get in trouble!” I argued, arching off of the hitachi.
Flint applied pressure to my hips, holding me down. “Good.”
Us, essentially.