Just some random fragments from the past few days…
First thing he did was put me in my new collar. It’s stainless (naturally) and has a combo lock and a lovely heft. I love having a collar and being collared and I wanted to wear it everywhere. Alas, we do not live in that world so it was only worn in Drew’s palatial suite. He didn’t do much with it the first day, but the following morning he used it as a handle as he fucked me from behind and that was unreasonably hot.
Next thing I can recall is his putting some really high quality leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles. Of course, I was already naked as his rule is I need to be as soon as I’m in the room with him. Being naked, collared and cuffed in the presence of someone not any of those things was enough to get the Steelheart filled. The fact that the room was a few degrees too cold actually helped. Needless to say, it all worked very well to put me in my subby I-can’t-look-him-in-the-eye place.
Shortly afterward, he had me trussed up on the floor. Some combination of steel carabiners and hefty zip-ties interacting with the D-rings on the cuffs. It was the first time I’d ever been put into such an uncomfortable position for any amount of time. I’m not going to say I liked it but I didn’t not like it and that had a lot to do with how much I knew he wanted me like that. There was also some ass-beating in there, if I recall, using my own belt. Honestly, some of this is fuzzy now. I blame the subspace for messing with my detail retention. In any event, he eventually let me out.
That’s when this picture was taken, but I wasn’t on Twitter I was actually dealing with some work email thing that was time-sensitive. Nothing like a short break in the bondage and kinky sex to do a little creative direction.
Then he put me in a zippered sleepsack but not before placing a neoprene mask over my head. Eyes blacked out (but mouth accessible), arms and legs immobilized, unable to do much except squirm and whine. I can imagine that would be a problem for the claustrophobic. That’s not me. I felt very comfortable…until he didn’t want me to be anymore.
First, he zipped open a hole and pulled the Steelheart through. He tugged and squeezed my balls and may even have licked them. I couldn’t see a thing, of course. This may have been when he started his assault on my nipples, though through the sack material. Apparently, there was a zipper around back, too, because I then felt his fingers prodding at my ass. His fingers are very definitely a man’s. Rough, thick, and strong. I can’t say how far or how many he put inside me, but he made it clear how he felt about my ass: It was his to play with and the sooner I accepted that the better. With his fingers still invading me, he moved his cock over my mouth and shoved it in. He forced it deep down my throat and fucked me at both ends simultaneously. With his hard meat all the way in, I had to hold my breath as his balls covered my nose.
After letting me out of the bag and removing the hood, he was very sweet and attentive making sure I was OK. Of course I was OK, but it was nice of him to check just before clipping my wrists to my ankles and leaving me with my ass up in the cold air and face down in the rough hotel carpet while he got his condom. I made the mistake of sitting up for a moment and he let me know his displeasure at moving from my position by inflicting withering attention on my nipples. Those strong fingers made me cry out into the tacky carpet. Then he fucked me.
Like I said, the carpet was rough. My forhead and knees burned against it with every thrust of his cock into me. I grabbed the cuffs around my ankles and felt him take his pleasure from my body in a way that was both brutal and exhilarating. I whimpered every time his hips slammed into my ass cheeks. It went on until it didn’t. Then he was gone. I didn’t dare move until he told me I could. My nipples were still throbbing from his reminder.
Later that day, after some nice laying about and talking, I straddled him and sat down on his manhood. It was much more a mutual fuck than the previous and clear sticky liquid leaked freely from the steel tube.
Next day, more pain. In fact, pain is the primary thing I remember. I came back to his hotel in the morning, stripped as required, and found myself on all fours on his bed with him under me. One hand’s fingers were back in my ass and the other was torturing my nipples in turn. They were still achy, puffy, and sore from the day before but that only caused him to start more slowly. He was just as cruel with them on day two as the day before. Moreso. I could hear someone moving about in the adjoining room. Maybe some talking on the phone. No way he didn’t hear me. No way he didn’t know someone was being fucked and played with next door.
He told me he liked the sounds I made when he hurt me. That, along with the pain, made the tube strain and clench against its contents. He would challenge me to accept more pain and I would willingly allow it if only to show him I would take it from him. I have no idea how he was making me hurt so much. Pinching, obviously, but also simple strength and will. I was near actual tears when something extraordinary happened. The twin fiery jets of pain I could actually see behind my clenched eyes flipped and transformed into streams of pure, liquid pleasure. I was no longer enduring the pain, I was revelling in it. I could not get enough. He could no longer hurt me. I felt the sounds from my throat change, too. From whining whimpering to growling to a kind of gravelly purr. And the penis, as well as it could be, was rock hard. Whatever wires run directly from my nipples down to the penismeat were fully charged and humming.
Right after this, he wanted my ass back in the air. I didn’t make the mistake of moving at all, though I do recall arching my back to present my ass more fully like the slut he knows I am and adores. Jeeeeeesus, I wanted to be his hole. I ached from wanting him in me so much. And then he was.
The balance of the day was pleasant, except for the copious blood and my twin bruised pleasure points being driven mad by my clothing over them. We were early for his piercing appointment which, as he said, was on the exact same day and time and in the same place I had my PA done. He was pale and sweating and I could tell he was nervous as hell before she punched the needle through and altered his cock forever. I have been genuinely upset that the post-piercing bleeding was so bad for him since mine was significantly less so. Then again, his hole is much bigger than mine was and she made it dead-center over his frenulum while mine was just off to the right. I am quite relieved today to hear the bleeding has nearly stopped completely.
We whiled away the remaining hours before his flight buying maxipads and shopping at a bondage store and sipping hot chocolate at the local leather coffee shop. In a total reversal from last time, I found myself sorry to be getting rid of him. All the way to the airport all I could think about was his fingers on my nipples and his cock in my mouth and ass. I wanted him as much as at any time but it was impossible. He was still a little shaky from the bleeding and in no condition whatsoever for play. But, damn. I was pretty fucking hot for it.
It’ll be just about a month before we see each other again. The distance will be good for us. I will spend much of that time imagining how his PA jewelry will feel as it runs over and around my prostate.