This fabulous post about being tied up and used is written and read by Joy As It Flies.
I have been watching too much porn lately: I’m pointlessly horny. I text the Adorable Sadist saying I’ve been dreaming all day about him tying me up, gagging me, and then using my mouth, tits and arse for despicable purposes. When I get home he is lying on my bed waiting for me. We cuddle and joke around for a little bit, then he asks me to say out loud what I’d written in the text. So I do, in a quiet, slightly hesitant voice. I’m not sure why asking for this stuff is embarrassing, but it is.
He has me strip, and then ties my hands behind my back, looping the rope around my wrists and forearms. He slaps my thighs and arse with his first gift to me, a handmade rectangle of leather with copper rivets, a hefty handle, and my name punched into it. I love it, but by fuck it hurts. When I say I am scared I will make too much noise and my housemate would hear over the radio he straddles my face and tells me to lick his arsehole to smother my yells. I do so, until he slaps my clit so hard that the noise I make sounds to my own ears like a thunder crack, although he maintains I am never as loud as I think I am.
By this point I am wriggling and whimpering, my legs thrown wide, desperate to feel his cock inside me. I assume he will fuck my arse, as he mainly does nowadays. I love it- I love his voice as he tells me to roll over and spread my cheeks, love every second of him easing himself in. Sometimes he tells me how much he enjoys surveying my expressions as he fucks me, slow and fast, deep and shallow, pushing back against him or lying passive and taking it, letting myself be pliant and used. He whispers in my ear that he loves watching my face as he’s buggering me, and I come. I come so hard when he fucks my arse now, a long, rolling, almost gruelling ribbon of pleasure.
Instead he rolls on a condom and pushes himself into my cunt, laughing at how ready I am. I lie on my back and he fucks me from behind, pulling at my hair and pinching my nipples. I moan, and thrash against him, the rope sore against my wrists and the muscles in my upper arms complaining. My hair is untidy in my mouth, the radio loud in my ear. He reaches for my clit and I judder on his cock, swearing and laughing, my vocabulary reduced to three words – ‘oh’, ‘fuck’ and ‘God’.
I feel a tingling in my hands, and when I told him he rapidly unties me, rolling me over and around the mattress as he unloops the rope. He tidily loops the length of hemp into a bunch of smaller coils and whips me with them, over my thighs, my breasts, my arse. I am on my back, his cock inside me, and he presses the bunched up rope into my mouth as he piles into me. I hear the round, urgent sound of myself gagging around the rope with every breath. I am reduced to two points, two holes – my cunt being fucked and the rope pressed sore against my mouth.
He drops the rope, and grabs my jaw in his hands. We stare at each other for a while, before he rolls me on to my front and fucks me hard, my legs closed, my hands gripping his forearms, whining quietly with pleasure. Nothing else exists. Nothing else is happening, anywhere. He is on top of me, and I am being fucked, because that is what I am for. I am his and my holes are his and I exist for his pleasure. Nothing else matters, and nothing else is true.
I come. He comes. We snuggle, and giggle, and talk about consent, feelings, honesty. We joke about and dick about and laugh and then it’s time to sleep. We don’t sleep. We end up fucking. Nothing else matters, even when it should.
We wake up early and I make breakfast. We make out for a little bit, and I end up humping his leg. Look at me, humping your leg like a desperate little slut, I say.
‘Like’ a desperate little slut, he says and kisses me. Yeah, not just ‘like’ a desperate little slut – or very like, exactly like. I ask for permission to play with myself, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, so I’m lying in bed with a cunt sore with wanting, looking forward to tonight when we’ll go to a munch together, and if I’m lucky he’ll take me home and use his property until nothing else exists.