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Chicago



There is little better way to begin an evening than at a very nice, if somewhat pricey, restaurant a short walk from dayo's apartment. One very delicious (pasta with mussels1 and clams, yum!) later, we headed back with happy tummies to her place, where some very nice vodka2 awaited.

And then, the kink.

One large roll of pallet wrap, two wicked sharp knives, a box of latex gloves, one small silver bullet vibrator, eight floggers3, and a giant-sized container of KY make for a very lovely evening indeed.

The floggers made the evening's appetizer. "Strip." I pushed her down onto the air mattress and stood behind her. A light, not too thuddy flogger for the opening, followed by two slightly heavier floggers simultaneously for a bit more of a warm-up, then a new, quite heavy flogger she had not yet deflowered for a bit more sensation...

Her backside was still slightly bruised from the previous evening in the dungeon, so it didn't take long to have her squirming.

After the appetizer, the pallet wrap. Pallet wrap is awesome for quick, easy, no-wait bondage; a few turns around her arms and body had her arms firmly bound to her sides. "It feels like being hugged," she said.

One quick push had her flat on her back on the mattress. The interesting thing about having your arms immobilized at your sides is that you can offer very little--for which read "no"--resistance to being manhandled around, and when you're toppled over, you tend to go down quickly. "Whuf!"

I was on top of her in a flash, and entered her roughly. Her hands were free, poking out from under the pallet wrap, but she was quite unable to move aside from that...in effect, allowing her only enough freedom to help me take her, but not enough to resist.

"I'm going to come now." There's something that's just really fun about telling her that while I'm on top of her, pinning her down, looking into her eyes. "Take it!"

There's something even more fun about doing it more than once. Arms wrapped tightly around her, feeling her heat against me, answering the heat inside me...it's intoxicating, and powerful. Three hard orgasms later, and I left her without warning, and watched her squirm on the bed.

"Quit pouting." Pulling on a rubber glove. "You'll get what you want soon enough." Probing with the tip of one finger. "My goodness, you're wet. I bet I could do this without any lube. But--" picking up the tube--"I like you squishy."

My hand went in with no resistance at all. Normally, it takes a bit of work to get it fully inside her. Normally. Not tonight.

"Oh, my god!"

"Yes." Pushing the bullet into her fingers. "Use this."

"You're in deep!"

"No, that's not deep. This--"

"Nnngh!"

"--is deep."

Some time later, when she was limp and sweaty and spent, and I had drawn my hand free and discarded the glove, we lay side by side and I caressed her hair. tongue and fingers running over breasts, through tight plastic. "You'll like this."

The tip of the knife, razor sharp, gliding over the curve of her breast bound and flattened by the pallet wrap.

"Oooh!"

Some folks like using dull knives for knife play. I do too, sometimes, but for dayoI have a curved, twin-bladed punch dagger sharp enough to slice a hydrogen atom free of an oxygen atom. Her back still carried a hair-fine tracery of faint white lines from the previous evening.

"Oh, that feels good!"

"Does it, now?"

A quick flip of the wrist and the blades sliced under the pallet wrap and out, cutting away a section of plastic film, revealing flesh, the underside of her breast. "And how about this?" Tips tracing along glowing skin, sheened with sweat, feather-light.

"Oh god!"

"Now hold still!" Blade slipping under cling wrap, slicing more free, tickling lightly over sensitized skin, following curves.

It took quite some time to remove the wrap, picking it apart and slicing it away bit by bit, chasing bare flesh with pointed steel.

"Oh! That was fun!"

"Time to put you to bed. And--" grinning "--I'm not finished with you yet."


1 I'm not quite sure what's up with me and mussels. When I was a kid, I had relatives living in Florida and New Jersey, so I was exposed to seafood from an early age. I've always loved things like crab, fish, scallops, and lobster, but for most of my life I've hated hated mussels.

Well, a few years ago, I developed a craving for mussels. Shelly and I went out to dinner, I ordered some, and they were mmm mmm tasty. I've loved them since.

2 One of the things I learned from serolynne is the difference between good vodka and bad vodka. There's a significant distance between the two. Good vodka is one of life's little treats. Bad vodka is like flaming battery acid with a chaser of ground glass.

3 Yes, eight. Why eight, you ask? Well, there's a reason that dedicated perverts usually have large collections of floggers. They come in a startling array of sizes and styles, and each produces a unique sensation. They're like spice to a chef; you can mix and match them to tailor just precisely the sensation you desire.

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Comments

(Anonymous)
Nov. 3rd, 2008 07:45 pm (UTC)
Yes, this is exactly the questions I'm trying to sort out: what are the reasons we have for wanting to keep private things private? Are they good reasons? What is the value of being public? And how do we decide what's private, anyway?

What you said is the "social equilibrium" kind of reason -- you want to keep your sex life private, because, in the current world, the majority of people look with contempt at these who are open about such things, and some of these people decide who gets promoted and who gets fired, and they might unconsciously (or even consciously!) incorporate their contempt into their professional decisions. The choice between openness and career is forced on you only by the fact that openness is not the current equilibrium. Right?

I wonder, is that your only reason? If, say, 10 years from now, enough people will open their souls on the web that it will be considered absolutely normal to do so -- then you'd be OK with sharing such things?
joreth
Nov. 14th, 2008 02:19 am (UTC)
The problem with the "social equilibrium" method is that, as long as *everyone* is hiding, there will never come a day when mainstream society *won't* " look with contempt at these who are open about such things" because everyone is hiding.

This doesn't mean that I (or tacit) think that everyone should be out to the same degree that we are at this time. There are, after all, very real repurcussions for being out.

What this means is that I think everyone who can be this out, should be, for the sake of eliminating the fear and discrimination.

There is also a difference between being "out" and which details are shared and which are omitted. The subject of being out is a slightly different topic than what we've been discussing below, with regards to intimate details and public sharing.