Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Clothespinned in the Dungeon

Do you know that moment when your Dom leans close and you can tell from his eyes it´s going to start to hurt?
Is there a second when he looks in your eyes and you know he knows you want this?
Welcome to my world, where pain is a kiss is pleasure and my lover is a man who know how to hurt me, but just not too much.

It´s Saturday, and the dungeon is filled with couples at play. The cries float over the walls, passion and pain, the hard thwack of a flogger and the snap of a whip, clear over the music.

We´re in that back room, Andre and I, and I´m back against the saw horse, hands held behind behind me in thick leather restraints, breasts jutting forward.

There´s rope on my breasts, rope around my ribs, a thick rope yoke holding me fast and I´m scared, cause I know what´s coming, but I want it, too, and there´s no blindfold to keep me safe, to protect me from what we´re about to do.

"Hold still," Andre says, and I smile at him, this beautiful man, as he takes a clothes pin out of the bag and carefully pinches a pale fold of flesh.

"Again,¨" he commands and I remain still and in place as he adds another to the same breast, and then more and more to that one, and more and more till the other, till I´ve got a halo of clothes pins attached to my flesh, a corolla of biting snappers that hurt like a bitch.

"Mmmn, nice," he says. "Move over so I can get a better look," but when I try to move past him the clothespins brush against his leg and it hurts so bad I scream with the pain, eyes tearing over.

"Tsk,tsk," he shakes his head. "So sad."

We stand together for a moment, gazing into the dim, crackled mirror: A big man and a small woman, one folded into the other, clothespins bristling like porcopine quills from her breasts.

"You know what´s going to happen when I take them off,¨he says.

And I nod, yes.

And then he´s plucking the monsters off my breast, each clothespin, one by one, and it hurts like a mother fucker, enough to see stars, but the rush of blood to the tender spot is so erotic, so hot, it´s a promise of all the pleasure to come, and that´s what keeps me standing.

"Ow! It hurts," I scream, but when it´s all over and there are only the angry red spots on my breasts, Andre takes me down onto the mattress and holds me in his arms.

"Shh, you were so good," he says, and I curl into him and we rest, loving partners in crime.

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