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Self Bondage

January 13th, 2009

I’m lame today. I couldn’t think of what it’s really called since I didn’t actually tie myself up or anything. Just hurt myself… a lot. And goodness was it hot. I had hoped He’d be inspired to write about it. It was so completely out of character for us. It’s looking like someone’s going to have to drop a bomb on Albany for Him to be inspired to write *pout*

So, I think I’ve mentioned before the many ways I discovered the fact that I’m a masochist but it’s possible I haven’t. Either way, I guess I can tell you a little bit about it before talking about how Master and I rang in the New Year. Though I guess it wasn’t actually New Year’s Eve. Anyway…

I don’t remember exactly how old I was. I was still wearing barrettes and bows, but I wore barrettes and bows all the way through my freshman year in high school. It was the only feminine thing I did growing up. I stopped when I realized only the cheerleaders wore bows.  But the barrettes served more than one purpose until I realized that clothespins work just as well. Barrettes, rubber bands, clipboards, objects small enough to fuck but large enough to hurt… anything I could find that would cause pain. I thought I was a freak (and maybe I am). I couldn’t imagine anyone being turned on like I was by pain. I’ve since learned otherwise, obviously.

So over the New Year weekend, Master and I were watching TV. I’m not sure what started it, but we began a lengthy (something like 12 hours… Don’t ask me how we managed it. I have no idea) mutual masturbation session. This is utterly bizarre for us. First, because Master doesn’t masturbate. At all. Ever. It wasn’t until just recently that He started touching His cock during sex at all aside from adjustments and putting it in and such. Second, because we’re almost always in a hurry. Hurry up and get off cause He’s gotta go to work. Hurry up and get off cause our show’s coming on. Hurry up and get off cause the dinner bell’s about to go off. You get the point.

That night, we had nothing but time. And after first telling me to just touch myself, He sent me for a toy. The clovers were already sitting on the arm of the love seat and there were paddles laying around. I wanted my nipples clamped something awful and started asking Him to do it. He told me no and then after a few minutes handed me the clamps. Handed me the clamps. 

I know I had to be blood red in the face. Whether or not He saw, I don’t know. The only light was the TV and the Christmas lights hanging around our ceiling.

There was only a moment’s hesitation before the clamps were attached to my nipples and I was pulling with all my might while diddling my winks. Eventually I had one on my nipple and the other on my clit. I don’t remember exactly where it went from there. I remember Him telling me to surprise Him when I asked what else He’d like to watch.

He won’t let me stretch my pussy. A fact that drives me insane because there’s few feelings I love more than my pussy lips straining to hold an object way too big for them. I asked permission and He said no. So from there I went to whatever method of torture I could come up with for my poor pussy. I know at least once I had clovers and clothespins on my nipples for at least 45 minutes. I completely forgot about them. Couldn’t feel them. Because of all I was doing to my cunt.

A clothespin attached to my clit and left to sit before I ripped it off myself. A clothespin attached to my clit while I rained blows from a paddle or one of our rarely used incense burners on it. Repeatedly paddling my cunt and nipples after pulling clamps or clothespins off of them or while they were still on. Violently fucking my cunt with the dildo He chose. A stiff bristled brush and comb to my clit and nipples (beating them, scrubbing them, etc.) after being clamped. Sandpaper… ouch! And then when my clit was so sore I couldn’t even touch it, I’d rub the ribs of the dildo (it’s ribbed from top to bottom) against my clit as hard as I could.

When He finally gave me permission to cum, barely touching my clit almost brought tears to my eyes. And I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard in my life.

He kept telling me how hot I am. I’ve never let go like that for anyone. Especially Him. Heaven forbid I should do something that completely turns Him off and lose Him or His interest. But all I did that night only turned Him on more.

He enjoyed fucking me in the days that followed. Every stroke brought a moan of pain. My left nipple is still sore as hell.

He says next time it’s His turn. I’m scared. That shit’s gonna hurt! More than I could ever cause.

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