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| candle_in_the_wind |
on Mon 18 Feb 08, 11:34 PM to candle_in_the_wind's blog.
Five long days.
Of torment and torture. Of use and abuse. Of captivity and chastisement. Of solitary confinement and sensory deprivation. Of growth and nuture. Of care and contentment. Of limits and needs.
This story will not unfold in chronological order. My mind is still jumbled. The drop was fast and significant but now I am rising.
Random images are now flooding back to me. I'll write as and when I remember them and sometime later I will make sense of them.
Each morning I was woken and led to a small warm bathroom. The bath already run and somehow the perfect temperature every time.
I was blindfolded, as usual. And no sound was uttered but I was certain that of the 4 times I was bathed, 3 were by a young man/ men and once was by a woman.
The hands caressing me, the soapy sponge strokes, the massaging hair wash, the douching, the towel drying, the consideration (or not) of leading me from one place to another hinted at their gender as well as their experience. Is it a natural feminine or motherly trait to care, to nurture, to take care of a little better than our male counterparts?
Being fed my breakfast was awkward and embarrassing. I cringed at being so helpless, so not in control. My hands were cuffed and attached to my thigh restraints so when I felt some soft egg yolk run down my chin I could not reach up instinctively to clean myself. My ankles were tied to the chair legs and I was naked- as I was for the majority of my confinement. Occasionally, when expecting a spoonful of food to be placed in my mouth, I felt instead 2 fingers pushed hard inside me, grazing my labia, no thought for lube nor request.
I had no requests. I had given up all free will from the day I entered his chambers.
A previous visit there had shown me his dungeon, the torture implements and furniture though I had not experienced them all. The rack was awesome but had not been used to its extreme. The spiked chair with metal electrode attachments had scared me. The suspension bar on the hoist had been used only as a restraining point not as a weight bearing device.
So day 3 or 4 saw me fed and bathed and led back into my small bedroom by my carer. I was unsure of his (or her) orders or restrictions and so when I was pushed over onto my bed and felt his fingers enter me I initially pulled away. I was certain my Dom would not have given such rights to another but my wrists still strapped to my sides, my head now pushed into the duvet, I could not fight back. He pushed another digit into me, pumping firmly but not too harshly. I could not fight the tingle building up in me but as I started to relax so he finished and pulled them all noisily out of me.
Some rummaging, a wooden box lid closing, some items placed next to me on the bed. He straddled me, lifted my head enough to place a head harness on me. The attached ball gag pushed deep into my mouth, the straps tightened, then it seemed my whole body lifted off the bed by the D-ring at the top of the harness.
I was dressed in a corset, (laced so tight it restricted my breathing) and 2 inch heeled, slip on shoes. I was led towards the Dungeon, (I had learned the difference in carpet and wood flooring in the rooms in which I was allowed). I never climbed stairs though I knew there was at least one, maybe 2 floors above me.
My wrist restraints were removed and new cuffs were put in their place. Stiff, long, solid cuffs, extending up my forearms and over the palms of my hands. Sturdy buckles, heavy duty, they encased my whole hands. Ankle cuffs were added, a long spreader bar stretching me to my limit, putting me off balance.
The loud ratcheting noise made me jump. Screaching, teeth jarring, each cog turn like a finger nail on a black board. The suspension bar was lowered, my cuffs attached and a chain from the centre of the bar to my head harness too. Adjusted so that the same pressure applied to my head and my arms. Then once again the noise, painful, hateful, as I was raised up on to my very tip toes.
And then I was raised up some more!!
My feet left the floor, one shoe slipped off, my breasts now protruded from the top of the corset. My breathing became laboured, panic settling in, drool running down my chin as I tried to speak through the large ball gag, begging for release.
I dangled for some time, helplessly. I felt someone on the floor between my legs. I was soon to realise they had attached a pole somehow to the floor, fixed solidly. I was gradually lowered down, I heard the clanking of my spreader bar against the pole and then I felt a coldness then pressure. Lowered further I could feel myself being invaded by a solid, firm yet smooth object. At least it was not a metal pole that was being inserted into me.
Lower still and my tip toes grazed the floor, I tried to support myself, to stem the flow, the invasion, already it was stretching my labia, my pussy fighting against this intrusion. The size of it had increased, it had been narrow and acceptable at first but now its size, its girth was too much to bear. Was it a cone of some sort?
The suspension bar was brought down to its starting point. I could have stood flat feet on the floor if it were not for the huge object now trying to defile me.
I stood on my very tip toes not daring to relax. The ankle cuffs were attached to points on the floor to stop me spinning around. The corset made for a good support to my back and the head harness kept me upright.
Though I was uncomfortable and scared it seemed that I could have remained there for a long time……. Well at least until my body succumbed to the pressure and I finally stepped down on to the floor.
I remained on my points, fighting against the invasion. I could not be stretched any further it was obvious this object would not be able to enter me fully.
But I was wrong. A stinging lash across my buttocks caused me to jump. Lose balance, another few centimetres made its way inside me. Another lash then another, more than I could count.
I'm not sure if it were the whipping or the forced entry that caused me the most pain. I was losing it. I began to cry. Tears, snot and saliva running down my face. My resolve had gone, my feet scrabbled to find solid ground and as I relaxed the widest part of the dildo pressed into me. I screamed through the gag, I felt sure it must be breaking my pubic bones.
But within seconds the pain in my cunt eased. The object had decreased in size, though I was fully impaled on it, the base had narrowed, still keeping me open, acting as another restraining point. I was motionless. I could not have raised myself off it. My arms, head, legs and pussy were pinioned, no movement possible.
Noises within the room told me there were more than one other present. I heard whispering, laughing. A switch flicked and suddenly the pole began to move. Ever so slightly, an inch or two at most, pumping up and down. The dildo was fucking me.
The momentum of the pole moved my body a little but with my weight bearing down on it mainly pushed the object further inside me, then pulled it out, down to a wider part, stretching me again to its widest point.
I heard, then felt, movement brush past me and a heavy door close. They had left me there, alone, impaled, helpless.
Minutes passed, five, ten, fifteen, the onslaught continued. I fought the orgasm building within me. I truly think I lost consciousness, a loss of time, as suddenly I was aware of hands on me, a wetness running down my legs, laughter, then another switch flicked. The pumping grew faster, harder. My body had accommodated this huge object and now it was fucking me remorsefully.
My orgasm came fast and hard. My knees went weak, but I could not fall, a scream bubbled from my throat, my head span. Still the pumping continued. It became painful, uncomfortable; this was not pleasurable to me, only to those watching.
I was a doll, a play thing. Like a Barbie. Dressed and bent and shaped and played with. And when they were tired of that game, when Barbie's tears run off her own breasts, when her juices coursed down her legs they decided to stop the game.
Now limp as a rag doll, I made no sound as I was raised up off the floor. But as the object was withdrawn from me I screamed. I gushed from the expulsion which helped with its removal but the pain was so intense I felt faint.
I was lowered to the floor, the leg spreader bar removed, my suspension cuffs too, I fell into a crumpled pile on the floor. The ball gag detached but the harness and blindfold remained. A sip of water offered to my parched lips. A blanket placed over me, a small cushion under my head but the chain from my head harness attached to a ring in the floor so I could not escape.
The door closed again. I was alone, I was left but I had the feeling I was still being watched from afar.
I lay still, I slept even though my body was wracked by small shudders, my orgasm aftershocks.
It was maybe an hour later when he (they) returned.
Even reliving this has fatigued me, I will write more soon, try to put it in some order from the beginning - High Protocol at Hades - to the end - High Tea at the Ritz.
| 19 Feb 08, 12:09 AM mini_velvet UK(EH), 6 yrs |
what a fabulous read. looking forward to hearing more. you lucky, lucky thing! And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. |
| 19 Feb 08, 1:13 AM kate_uk 6 yrs |
I had to read this a few times just to make sure i didnt miss anything out  .Beautifully written. *drools*
kate |
| 11 Oct 08, 11:31 PM tokyoyearzero UK(N), 4 yrs |
an absolutely stunning recount of what sounds like one mindblowing experience. |
| 20 Jan 09, 8:07 PM chemical UK(CB), 8 yrs |
Really wonderful! Thanks for sharing.  --- "I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does" |
