Sadism Sunday

July 1, 2018

I’m two seconds away from castrating you with my heel.

Christina Lauren
Beautiful Bastard

I undressed him and put him on his knees.

Once in bed he was told to remove my bra and I laid down. I didn’t feel as nervous as I thought I might, so I asked him to worship my tits…. At first he attacked the nipples with feverish sucking. I smiled and made him slow down…there wasn’t any shyness as I told him what I wanted and how I liked to be kissed. I liked making him take his time around the nipples with gentle kissing and licking. I even asked him to bite them and pulled his head off when I’d had enough.

It felt good to be greedy.

After awhile I held out my hand, palm up, and he filled it with lube. I let him fuck my hand with his desperate hips as he continued his licking and sucking job. As his humping got a bit more intense he lost focus on my breasts and I guided him back with soothing words and giggles.

Eventually, I let him climb on top of me. His treat was humping my leg with my lubed hand holding his cock tight against my bare thigh. It was like we were fucking. He said his body was confused. He needed to feel my cunt. His hips worked against my body. My hips involuntarily moved up. Wanting to meet his too.

He asked defeatedly for penetration knowing the “no” was coming before the question left his mouth. I made him ask again and again. I savoured each sweet, “no.” I can’t describe having that much power escape my lips. I love owning my boundaries and knowing they’ll be utterly respected…even adored.

Eventually, frustrated, he asked if he could get back on his side again and I let him. He fucked my hand a bit more and we talked fantasies. I teased him for needing me to talk dirty. He wanted my thoughts and I kept them all to myself like a greedy little girl. My head felt empty and swimmy with power. My denial made him a little soft so I turned on my belly and let him stroke my ass. He wanted to kiss it, but instead he was told ‘Rub yourself’. I wanted him hard.

With that revelation I remembered something we had discussed earlier in the week. I got up and put him on his back. That week while I was doing my hair and texting him I had teased him that the hair clips would make excellent torture devices. He replied with how much he’d like to experience that, so while I had him waiting and stroking himself, I pulled the bowl from my vanity and placed it on his thighs.

“Remember these?” I giggled before placing clothespins on his nipples and hair clips on his cock and balls. He continued to rub where he could. He was getting harder and harder. His cock was swollen and thick.

That’s when I pulled out a particularly nasty clip. One that looks like little plastic jaws. I asked if he thought he could take it. He said he’d like to try so it went on the head of his cock (his suggestion, of course).

He kept rubbing. I smiled and watched him flinch as I flicked and pinched randomly.

Eventually he asked for the nasty clip to be removed so I bent over, my mouth hovering over him, and placed my lips on it. He moaned in what sounded like half fear. I giggled and bit the clip off (safely so it didn’t pull or clamp back down on him, but enough to torture the fuck out of him).

That’s when he was told his cock would never be inside me. That I didn’t need it. That I’d never need it…

I love his sad, wimpy whines.

To drive my point home, I held out my tongue close to his cock as he rubbed and told him that under no circumstances was my tongue ever to touch his dick. I asked if he remembered one of our first conversations when he had asked if I’d ever had my throat fucked. That was when our roles had yet to be so concretely defined.

I got closer with my tongue causing him to squirm and move it away from my face as he rubbed.

“It’s never touching my tongue.“

More whines.

I continued toying with him in that way. With my mouth hovering over him. I made him watch. I made him keep his eyes open and watch my face achingly close to his hard dick.

He asked to cum and I told him he could cum if he barked for me again. Like a puppy. My puppy. I made him practice. I wanted it to be a loud bark. We worked on it until it was satisfactory, and I started the countdown for his release.

Kitty Casey

Too kinky for words

January 16, 2016

safe_word

We all enjoy a good treat

December 6, 2015

treats

squeezeharder

The cock, male scepter, centre of pleasure and symbol of sexual potency. Its boundaries for pleasure and pain vary enormously between individuals, and should be explored with loving care. The testicles, resting unobtrusively beneath, can (in the right circumstances) provide a portal to hell…

As always mutual consent is an essential prerequisite to CBT (as is the case with all BDSM activities). Sit together, discuss the scenario to be enacted in detail. So, girls, before you wrap his cock in chilli coated cling film ensure that is what he expects and wants. Don’t be shy. Boys, if you want your scrotum twisted and crushed, tell her so. Agree on a “safe word” and a “safe sign” (it’s no good when your mouth is full of inflatable penis gag, mumbling to your torturer “Ugha mummph” and expecting him or her to understand you. No. Make a sign that can be immediately seen and understood).

The shaft is the least sensitive part of the cock. However, the skin covering it increases in sensitivity when stretched by erection. When flaccid you can slap the shaft with your hand, ruler or ‘cock whip’. You can squeeze or twist it (but it’ll probably harden involuntarily; remember to be gentler with a stiff dick, it’s much more easily damaged), scratch it with long finger nails or rough textures like fine sandpaper or a small scrub brush. You can pinch the surface with clamps, clothespins or fingers, and subject it to temperature play, hot and cold, with burning wax or ice cubes.

The fore skin can be twisted, stretched, clamped – even post circumcision, a remnant remains, especially under the glans, the frenum where it attaches to the glans and is particularly sensitive. The glans, need it be said, is the most sensitive part of the male knob. Foreskin pulled well back, it can be twisted, pinched, rubbed, treated to hot wax, ice, or simply abraded.

The cock when flaccid may be bound (with cords, laces, or thongs). Tight loops round glans and balls holding them together. Once constricted, tease the cock and watch it struggle to stiffen (remember to loosen tight genital bindings every twenty minutes or so to restore full circulation). While tightly bound in this fashion, a male though hardly properly erect may be made to cum, a deliberate retrograde ejaculation where semen is forced back down the urethra.

Remember, when starting out with CBT do so lightly. Increase the tempo, the pressure, gradually. Take care and be safe. Oh, yeah, and little water based lube wouldn’t go amiss either (you don’t want to get blisters on your hands with all that tugging and twisting).

Finally an example of what can go wrong on these scenarios: a couple of years back we met a guy at a local munch. We arranged a meet round his, where we discussed potential BDSM scenes. We thought he was a relative newbie to the scene (which was fine), but he went on to discuss a wide range of CBT activities in detail. He, it seemed, was much more experienced than we’d thought. Dee twice asked if he were “certain” about what he was requesting. He said he was. The following night we meet again to enact his scenarios in earnest.

Bound, gagged, the helpless guy lay victim to Dee’s cruel hands. She gripped tightly, twisted, then gently crushed. He made his “safe sign” almost immediately. Dee stopped, released him. He had tears in his eyes. She cuddled and reassured him.

‘You said it was what you wanted.’ Dee stroked his hair softly. ‘You said you loved it…Craved it all the time.’

It transpired he loved it all the time in his dreams. In his fantasies. He’d lied to us about his “experiences” on the CBT front. It was his first time, and the reality was too much for him. Not at all like the fantasy – which is most always the case, boys and girls. So take care what you ask for. Remember, honesty is the best policy in all things.

The playground…

August 2, 2015

crushed

“You are the playground of which I have free reign.”

Nenia Campbell
Tantalized

cream

The day was slowly dying. Street lamps were coming on along the main road, circles of yellow that eat into the gathering gloom. The house stood well back from the road, at the end of its own curving gravel drive.

Yvonne de la Lune was taller than me. She had frizzy, tobacco-coloured hair and freckles with wide, dark eyes and long, brightly-varnished, red-fingernails. She was a dominatrix by nature and profession. Just now she was wearing a full-bodied, black-leather cat-suit that clung like a second skin to her long body.

‘You know why you’re here?’ she asked.

I did. I had agreed to this bondage session with my then girlfriend Leonie. It was the “price” she’d demanded from me. In return she’d promised to forgive my recent transgressions with a young woman at a friend’s birthday party. This “betrayal” had occurred while Leonie had been away visiting relatives, but she’d heard about it from a friend on her return and been less than pleased…

I felt totally ashamed of myself.

Leonie had planned the “punishment” session with Yvonne. It’d be a ninety minute session, and I would pay the £250 for it in advance. I did not know what the session would include –

‘I have four long term slaves,’ Yvonne said to me. One of them stood naked beside a formica-topped table nearby. He was slightly overweight, with thick, wide shoulders and a cock hanging between his legs like a rubber truncheon. ‘I like eager, obedient boys who aim to satisfy my every whim. Are you eager?’ she asked.

I was unable to answer. I had been trussed up naked like the Christmas turkey with a penis gag in my mouth.

‘You don’t know what’s to happen to you today, do you? Leonie has been deeply hurt by you, by your sluttish behavior. She wants you to experience punishments that will scar your memory, leave an enduring impression and serve as a constant reminder of what pain unfaithfulness causes.’

She fingered my limp cock. I felt it stir, stiffen. She stroked, teased gently. Her face was close to mine and I caught a faint smell of garlic and spices on her breath. Carefully she slipped my foreskin down as far as she could get it, exposing the swollen head.

‘Oh, I’m going to have your balls snapping like castanets,’ she said. As if to demonstrate the truth of this, she slapped them violently with the palm of her right hand. I lurched, tears of pain in my eyes. ‘That’s nothing, believe me. What your Leonie has planned for you…” She laughed, shaking her head. ‘You’ll never forget it!’

I watched helplessly as she pulled on a pair of thick leather gloves. She picked up a Marks & Sparks carrier bag from the floor. ‘See what I have here? And just for you…Only you.’ Reaching into the bag she pulled out a handful of greenery.

Realisation gradually dawned. I recognised the handful of plants as Urtica dioica, stinging nettles…

‘Freshly picked by my slaves earlier today. Just for you.’ She smiled cruelly. ‘The little hairs on them are like needles. Touch them, they inject histamine, acetylcholine, and formic acid into your skin. Itchy, painful stings. And I’m going to use them to wank you…Rub that stiff cock with them.’

I struggled. I wrenched at my bonds. But it was useless. She wrapped a handful of nettles round my cock and gently caressed it. She crushed the nettles against the exposed glans paying special attention to the meatus, the eye.

‘Isn’t that nice,’ she whispered. ‘You’re so nice and stiff.’ She rubbed the shaft then cupped my balls with her nettles. She discarded them after a minute or so and picked up a fresh handful.

At first there was no pain. But then as the white speckly rashes grew on sensitive skin, it irritated and burned like hell. After ten minutes my cock looked impossibly inflamed and swollen –

‘Because of where the stings are,’ she said gently. ‘It’ll probably take a couple of days for the irritation to go. But you’ll never forget it…’ She discarded the nettles in a wicker wastebasket. ‘The head of the penis is wonderful, isn’t it? So rich in nerve endings. So erogenous…’

She dug long finger nails into tender flesh and I choked on the gag filling my mouth. She was merciless. Tears of pain spilled down my cheeks. I wanted to beg, but instead made this terrible snorting noise through my nose, and a phlegmy rattling in my throat.

‘The frenulum is so sensitive, isn’t it…?’

The way her nails dug and pinched made me want to scream. I’d never experienced pain like this before.

‘You know, sweet Leonie instructed me to rape you. But I thought it a better idea to have my slaves do that. She agreed.’ Yvonne held up a condom and a tube of Deep Heat. ‘They’ll all wear these,’ she said. ‘And we’ll use the Deep Heat as a lubricant. Give you a nice burny- burny feeling where the sun don’t shine…’ She glanced over her shoulder at the naked man behind her. ‘We need to get him face down.’

I noticed then that three more nude males had entered the room. The first took hold of my shoulders and turned me roughly. His fingernails had been heavily chewed. He was very strong and his cock now was jutting stiffly; he’d obviously enjoyed watching my ordeal.

‘That’s it, face down.’ She came to the head of the bench. I watched as she squeezed Deep Heat onto her slender fingertips and thumb. ‘I’ll lube you up, don’t worry. You won’t have to take them dry. We want to make this as memorable as possible for you…’