First Time Needles

I like being scared.

No, not in fear of my life, but I like feeling nervous because I don't know what will happen during a kink scene. I like the cold shiver of fear and anticipation when I slowly realize what is coming down the pike and know there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.

That's one reason I married Jason, and why I have submitted to Dean consistently since the divorce.

That's part of the thrill with someone you trust and knows you-- you are giving yourself over and shit will happen and you won't have control over what. That's what I seek. It's sort of like what bungee jumping must be like... except I am too scared of that.

I am remembering a scene from a long time ago, before Dean, before Jason. A guy I knew and was in a relationship with.

Well, the relationship wasn't super serious; we saw each other and did social things together and fucked in addition to his attempting to tie me up in ever more uncomfortable and weird positions, that last bit being the real attraction for me.

We were seen as a couple, but it wasn't a committed relationship. Not committed, but ongoing. An understanding where we met some needs each other had.

Let's call this dude Bill. He is a big guy, he towered over me and spent time at the gym so his body was pretty decent. No flab, though he wasn't super muscular. And he had a nice cock. Not huge, but it got hard really easily and was big enough to make me feel filled. And to choke me if he rammed it into my throat far enough. Which happened.

Bill texted me and told me to come over. I wasn't always at his beck and call, but he did expect a certain amount of obedience. When I got a text, I didn't drop everything but I did try to obey if I could.

This time part of his instructions were to put on nipple clamps prior to driving to his place. I was told I had to photograph myself with the nipple clamps on under my top before I left. No putting them on just outside and saying I had them on the entire way.

So I did.

"Owwww.... fuck," was what I said when they went on.

The clamps he instructed me to use weren't large, but would make it impossible to wear a bra, and would definitely show through a top.

The clamps are pre-set with a specific tension and are not the worst ones I've ever worn by a long shot, but hurt nonetheless. When I put clamps on myself I can make sure they don't hurt too badly, by positioning them far enough back they grab a bit of breast and areola, not just the nipple itself.

Of course they hurt the worst when they are first put on. The nipples numb a bit after a while, though the burning clamp pain continues constantly; it doesn't go away. These things hurt, and I wanted to get them off. I figured he'd take them off soon after I arrived, which meant I didn't waste time.

I texted the image and piled in the car for the 15 minute drive to his place as fast as I could. I hoped he'd remove them when I arrived.

I entered his house (I had a key) and greeted him with a hug and kiss. His hands roamed to my breasts and fondled the clamps, which of course hurt.

"Oww.... that hurts...." I breathed in his ear as we embraced and he fondled.

"Good," he said, we separated and he brought me to the play room.

"Strip," he ordered. I did as told. I was already wet, the presence of the nipple clamps basically putting me into a rather aroused state well before I arrived. My clothes came off quickly. The top, which exposed my clamped breasts; shoes, shorts and panties. And that was it. I was naked.

He moved over to me, kissing me, checking my cunt for moistness.

"You are such a slut," he chuckled when he felt me. Yes, I was wet. I knew what was coming, I wanted it, and my body didn't hide that. Yeah, I was a slut.

"Please be gentle," I said. He laughed.

"Anything but gentle today, Siobhan," he growled. "You will be begging me before long."

That got me. I knew he was serious. I didn't know what he would be doing but I knew he intended for it to be difficult. I don't beg easily. I'm a big girl and can take a lot. I gritted my teeth and prepared myself mentally.

He grabbed my left wrist and twisted my arm behind my back, driving me forward. I staggered, a little off balance as he pushed me toward the chair.

Bill had acquired a lot more equipment since meeting me. Not many girls are as open and intense as I am, and he had invested in more equipment to satisfy his fantasies as well as my desires.

The chair was an addition he had made, rather than purchased. It was just a good sturdy wooden chair, with a straight back and flat seat. He could bolt it to the floor, though he normally didn't.

There had been padding on the back and bottom at one time. Upholstery. That has been removed, making the chair more of just a wooden frame than anything else.

That made it pretty uncomfortable to say the least, but also made sure that once I was secured in it, most areas of my body would be exposed and available for him to access. My ass, my cunt, my back, my breasts.

So to me the chair was a tool that restricted my movement and exposed my body to him, preventing me from covering or protecting my 'sensitive parts'.

Bill pushed me down to the chair, which was awkward because it had no support for my butt. My legs went over the front of the frame and my pack pushed against the bare wood frame behind, but my butt sank down.

That would all be fixed once he strapped me in. The straps would hold me to the wood frame.

First to go were my wrists, which were strapped to the back of the chair, arms pointing downward and out of the way. I prefer rope but straps are used a lot of the time for ease and speed. Rope creates a tighter, more secure experience. Straps accomplish the job, though.

In every scene there's a point where you cross over from being a free agent, being able to back out or just run, and the point where you are trapped and stuck. I anticipate that point, my heart racing, my muscles tense, every nerve in my body hyper sensitive, adrenaline surging.

It's the point where I lose control. I belong to someone else now.

Once my wrists were strapped to the chair, I was gone. That was the point. I'd crossed the threshold and Bill now had me at his mercy. God, it made me wet. My mind shrank into subspace, the entire world disappearing. There was nothing but me, Bill, and the chair. My naked body had just become his toy and my mind accepted that.

My ankles were next, strapped to the legs. This spread my knees, though I could still close them somewhat. To make sure I didn't do that, Bill tied my knees to the outside frame of the chair.

I was more or less restricted to the chair, but when one is panicked or in pain, there's a lot of leeway in struggling that you might not realize.

So, Bill tied my waist to the back of the chair, and then my shoulders.

My head could move a lot, but otherwise, I was stuck, strictly restrained to the chair.

I jerked a bit in the chair, testing the restraints. I was secured.

"Writhe a bit more, Siobhan. You look so good when you are writhing."

"Fuck off, Bill."

He laughed. I never show it, but I get a chill of fear when he laughs. It's delicious.

"I need to prepare something. While I do that, let me keep you amused."

One thing about that chair, it allowed for a vibrator to be inserted in different ways, clipped or strapped in place where it would press right up against my cunt. Once there, I couldn't get away from it.  Well, he put a vibrator in place and turned it on.

"Oh.... fuck..." I said, sort of moaning.

Forced stimulation is one reason I liked to be tied up with Bill. The feeling of being helpless and having my sexual responses manipulated, even having an orgasm controlled by him, was priceless. He'd give me an orgasm or take it away at his whim.

Just when I wanted to cum, needed to cum, he'd remove the vibrator or stop rubbing me. Just when I wanted a rest, he'd ram the vibrator in and turn it on and I would find myself reaching for a climax.

My clit is really sensitive. Maybe because it's been abused a bit over the years, maybe because it just is, maybe because women in general have very sensitive clits. I have no way of knowing. I just know a vibrator on my clit will slowly, but surely, drive me insane.

The vibrator distracted me and kept me from watching what Bill was doing. I sort of sat there, struggled a bit to try and either get away from the thing, or press against it harder. Neither worked well so I just sat in the chair and let the vibrator take me closer and closer to an orgasm.

It's easier for me to achieve orgasm when I am restrained. In fact, there are times when I am fucking someone that I wish I was restrained, I yearn for it.

I swear, getting fucked or vibed while completely restrained and unable to move is the best thing in the world for me. I think I was so wet the vibrator was splattering as it shook.

Anyway, it didn't take long and I was panting and getting there pretty quickly. I was watching the vibrator, concentrating on what it was doing, but Bill pulled the damned thing away.

"God dammit, Bill. I was almost there!"

"Yes, my pet. I know. I can tell. The noises you make are a little different, and your nipples get hard and there's... flushing of the skin that comes on. But I am not ready to let that happen. Now..."

He moved the vibe away and sat before me.

"I must offer you a gag. This will be painful, and you might appreciate something to bite down on."

I looked for the first time and saw he had a tray filled with stuff. The tray looked a little like something from a surgeon or dentist office. At first I didn't understand what was in it. Pieces of plastic wrapped around things, a few things rolling free in it.

My brain identified the contents of the tray. Needles. Lots of them.

Most were needles which could be attached to syringes for injections. Some appeared to be pins-- the kind you'd use on a cork board, but long.

I made a noise.

"Ohhh......" it came out as sort of a groan.

"Oh.... ohhh fuck no...." Those were words.

"Fuck no... " I added. "No... Bill... you are not going to stick those in me... no..."

I must clarify that I have a safeword and "no" is not it. I could beg and swear and say no all day and it would have no effect at all.

Which is what happened. Bill essentially ignored me except to say, "Do you want a gag now?"

"No... no... no, Bill... please, no... " I guess that was taken as a no to the gag because I didn't get one.

He'd offered me a gag for a couple of reasons. First and probably foremost, I prefer a gag, especially when the scene is going to be painful as this one was. It's weird to say but a gag can be comforting. Something to bite down on. It's a familiar thing that I actually welcome (depending on gag type).

The other reason was to muffle noise. Bill's house has plenty of yard space from the houses nearby, and his playroom is at least somewhat sound deadened. But a good long shrill scream might be heard. Gags actually have practical application in some suburban and urban situations.

I was secured very well to the chair, unable to move anything much but my head, which I could flail around but that didn't really do much except give me a headache. Hips, chest, wrists and arms, ankles, thighs.

The gag might have been a good idea, but we didn't use it-- at first.

He sat down next to me with his tray and caressed my face, pushing hair behind my ears. Affectionate. He really did love me, you know, even as he was hurting me.  Perhaps he loved me most when he was hurting me.

"Shall we start with the breasts or your cunt?" He asked clinically.

All I could do was protest. "No, flog me Bill, whip me, but not this. Don't. I've never had needles before. I'm scared Bill, I don't want it!"

"It will be fine, Siobhan. I know you can take it. Be strong for me now. Let's tie your breasts, that might help a bit to have them nice and tight."

A piece of rope wrapped above and below my boobs, positioned so they created a slight bulge. Then a couple of crosses, creating more of a bulge. Finally, a loop around the ropes between my breasts, tightening the entire thing.

Not painful. But I could feel the taught pressure and flesh. My breasts would be firm and steady for when Bill decided to puncture them.

Bill ran his hand over my breasts.

"I like them when they are nice and tight like this, Siobhan. You don't have big boobs, but you have fine ones. I like distorting their shape like this, making them bulge and turn purple."

He was taunting me. Being in bondage is humiliating at times, my body exposed or twisted or distorted in very unattractive ways. That's one thing breast bondage does, it takes my otherwise perfect boobs and makes them look like ridiculous balloons.

He was also dragging this out. I knew what was coming, the needles on the tray were sitting right in front of me, only a couple of feet away. By taking his time he was making me sweat. I'd never been pierced with needles before. Well, I'd had my ears pierced ten years before, and was thinking of getting a nose piercing, a stud. But this was new and the situation was driving me up a wall.

My breathing was fast. I was stressed.  I wasn't crying yet, though.

"Beautiful. Let's get you nice and ready. I ordered the nipple clamps earlier to help swell and sensitize your nipples. Let's see how they are doing?"

He grabbed both nipples without warning, squeezed and twisted at the same time.

It's amazing how much that can hurt. It's nothing compared to a nasty tit clamp but I yelped and cried out as he pulled my nipples out and twisted, stretching my boobs out.

"Owwwww.... oh fuck fuck fuck.... oooaaahhhh.... "

It wasn't a scream, but a yelp.

He continued pulled and yanking for a while as I swore at him. That just encouraged him but I couldn't help it. It hurt!

"They seem OK. Probably won't get any more sensitive. Shall we begin?"

I shook my head. "No... no, let's not. Let's not begin. Let's do something else."

Bill picked up a needle in a paper and plastic sterile package and tore it open.

"There are different gauges, you know. I have a variety here. Long and short, too. Short ones are for the nipples. Longer ones can go through your breasts."

Oh my god he was going to skewer me.

He held the needle up. It was a smaller, thinner one but looked huge up close. I kept telling myself I'd been poked by needles in the arm many times before, and this was no big deal. These were needles used with syringes for medical purposes. People got this poked in all the time.

My mind went over this, and over this. Somehow my body didn't cooperate. Adrenaline and fear was making me pant and hyperventilate. I was getting dizzy and he hadn't even stuck me yet.

He put the needle down, stretching the tension out further.

"Would you like a hood? You're hyperventilating."

So kind.

"No. Just... get it over with."

"In such a rush. I just realized I need to do something first."

He took out an alcohol wipe. Several of them. He wiped down my breasts. The caustic fluid evaporated quickly, making my boobs feel cold. He was really serious about this and was taking precautions.

He picked up the needle again.

Grabbed my right nipple and pulled my breast out a bit. I clenched my teeth. He put the point up next to the areola that had been elongated a bit with his pulling. I could feel the sharp point. The point hurt, there was pain there and I winced, but it didn't go in.

"Maybe from above," he said, withdrawing the needle and positioning it from above. He release my nipple and grabbed it again, thumb and forefinger.

This is all part of the awful experience of bondage and submission-- having your body manhandled and manipulated in very uncomfortable and sometimes embarrassing ways... and there is nothing you can do about it.

The needle touched the areola again, this time from above. The point pressed in. I was breathing heavily, which didn't make any difference to the placement of the needle because he had my boob stretched out with his fingers pulling.

"Wait! I know what we need."

"Ohhhhhfffuuuccckkkk.... " I groaned. He still hadn't done it.

Standing up he moved to the side of the room. There's a full length mirror there.

One of the weirdest and awful things (at least for me) that enhances the bondage and submission experience is to be forced to watch yourself. To see what is happening to you from the perspective of another. To see the sweat trickle down, the look of pain in one's own face. The way the ropes squeeze and tighten when one struggles. The look of agony and despair on your own face.

He rolled the mirror over. It wasn't right in front, but slightly to the side so he could work on my body without interference from the mirror.

I could see I was flushed, the adrenaline and stress causing outward reactions. My skin was slightly shiny from sweat. It wasn't gathering and trickling down, not yet, but was evident. I could see my cunt as he could, pink and dark with lips slightly spread and glistening, revealing my arousal for anyone to see.

"Try again?" Bill said, sitting in front of me again, taking my nipple and pulling it out.

I'd been there almost an hour and it took that long to get to where he actually punctured my flesh and inserted the needle. I had almost gone crazy, or lost interest, one of the two. My mind had waffled between being scared to death of the coming pain, and confident that this was just a stupid little poke like getting a shot in a doctor's office. It was a syringe needle, after all.

This time the needle went in.

I am proud to say I didn't scream. I was used to pain by this time in my life, though it was a long time ago. Even so, it was pain, it was sudden, it was a new kind of pain, and I yelped. And cringed and moaned and swore.

What surprised me was how long it took the needle to go through. I was thinking about when I got my earlobes pierced when I was 14, and that was fast, just a second. Wham, done. This wasn't.

When the needle first went in it pushed against my outer flesh, which resisted. That hurt, but there was a point where it suddenly poked through with a sort of pop and that's when there was a sharp, nasty burning sensation of pain. It didn't stop because he continued to push though the flesh beneath. He was inserting it through my areola, just behind the nipple, and it had a way to go. At least an inch, maybe more.

So I gritted my teeth and said "aaaaafhh ghhgaaggghhhioi oiggggg....." as it slowly made its way through my breast. And then hit the other side, trying to break through and out. And of course, the flesh there didn't want to give way either. I wasn't looking, I was looking up, at the ceiling, but I could tell the needle had hit something tougher. He pushed and I could feel my flesh stretching as the point penetrated and suddenly burst through.

It was worse than getting a shot in a doctor's office. Much, much worse.

I'd made quite a bit of noise while the needle went through, because it hurt, and it wasn't like in a doctor's office. Nope. It was a sharp, nasty, burning pain that announced something was happening to my flesh and I needed to stop it, which of course I couldn't because I was strapped down nicely.

"Well done, Siobhan. There's the first. Only.... well, it looks like I have around 50 needles left to go."

"Fuckfuckfuck that hurt... " The needle was through and the lingering pain was not nearly as bad as during the insertion. A soreness, a sense something had been damaged and was wrong there in my right breast, but nothing awful.

"Well, yes," Bill said, calmly picking up another needle. "It's supposed to. Though it really shouldn't hurt that badly, these are relatively small gauge needles we are starting with."

The next needle went in almost immediately. He was toying with me, of course, so I couldn't predict when the needle would go in. So it came as a surprise when he suddenly jammed the needle in his hand right into my nipple, straight in.

"OOOooOWWW...." I yelped. This time the pain of entry and penetration was only for a second or two, but the sensation of pain was different. The nipple itself is most sensitive and it hurt more. At the same time, the pain was shorter.

Each time a needle had gone in I had jerked and strained against the straps. No luck of course, I was strapped down and couldn't move. That's actually the most rewarding sensation to me, feeling the need to move, to escape, to get free and away, and being completely and totally unable to.

Two needles in. Something like 48 to go?

Bill adjusted his chair slightly and focused on my other breast.

"Oh shit... Bill... please..."

Bill was selecting another needle and peeled the wrapper off of it.

"Slightly larger. I want you to tell me what the difference in feeling is. I can't tell a lot by looking at the needle, but it's a larger gauge. See the color here on the base? That's an indicator of the gauge. I started with a very small, narrow gauge...."

He kept talking about needles and their size, waving the needle around. "I should try a different area too. Though if we are trying to see how much different they feel, like, what the pain is like, it should probably be the same place, huh?"

"Shove the fucking thing in and get it over with, Bill," I said. I knew it was going in. It hurt during insertion, not so much after. Might as well get this done and his taunting was working, I had to admit.

The needle slid directly into my nipple. He pressed this one in a bit further. I hadn't realized the one in the other nipple had only been poked in a bit, this one he kept pushing.

Using his thumb, he pushed the needle through the front of my nipple and kept pushing it all the way until it was up to the base.

It hurt worse, of course. The sounds I made reflected the extra pain. It started out and a sort of sharp burning pain that quickly morphed into a deeper aching pain the further the needle went in. I shook in the chair, jerking and straining and unable to move much at all.

When it was in and he let go of it I almost panted in relief. Yes, it still hurt but the main pain was during the penetration.

Which meant he had to keep sticking me like a fucking pin cushion.

The next needle he poked right into my breast, pushing it through the flesh and inside, pushing further in until more most of the metal rod was deep inside me.

It hurt the entire time he shoved it in and I started crying a bit. Not sobbing, but some tears formed.

"Enough, now, OK? Bill, my boobs are pin cushions, please stop. I am going to bleed out!"

This wasn't true, of course. In fact, at that point, there had not been one drop of blood.

My limits at the time did not prohibit things that would cut or create loss of blood. Just things that wouldn't heal fast, and needle punctures, if properly sterilized, would heal fast. Even with some bleeding, which they weren't.

"OK, so you want me to stop sticking needles in your boobs?"

"Yes, pleeease, Bill. No more." A couple of tears trickled down my cheeks.

One thing I was learning though, was that this pain wasn't that awful. Yes, it hurt. I didn't like it at all. But these needles stung and hurt, but it was relatively quick and not agonizing. I was learning to put pain in perspective.

"OK then. We will move to another area."

"What???" I should have known, but I was stressed, tied up and having needles inserted into my boobs. It's distracting.

He shifted slightly and positioned himself in front of my pussy.

My pussy was exposed, of course, the chair straps kept my legs and knees spread wide. I tried closing them but nope.

He'd left the needles in my boobs and I looked at them in the mirror. Barely visible except for the colored base. I could feel them though.

Bill reached with fingers and grabbed my pussy lips. I closed my eyes and waited. I knew what was coming and there was nothing I could do about it except wait. The more I talked to him, the more he would play with me.

So yeah, he pulled my lips out, stretched pieces of my cunt to see where the best place to put the needle would be.

I couldn't help but strain against the restraints a bit, but it was mostly just instinctual reaction.

He grabbed a needle, I didn't see which one, and started poking it around on my cunt lips. Each poke hurt just a little, but not bad. What was bad, was not knowing which of those pokes would suddenly give way to a shove and the pain of piercing through my cunt lips.

I told myself I knew girls that had labia piercings; this was no different. It helped a bit and I relaxed until he rammed one through.

I yelped, and cringed and swore and cried.

Fuck, did that hurt! More than my boobs!

He did it quickly, too. My labia lip wasn't as thick as my breasts, and one quick shove accomplished the task, but fuck it hurt.

After the needle was in, Bill fingered me a bit. Just pulling on my clitoral hood, massaging lightly, then hooking one finger inside to probe around and find my G spot.

I reached, and frankly, my reaction wasn't much different than when he'd pierced my labia. I moaned and wriggled my hips a bit, strained against the straps. My clit is very sensitive and he knew how to approach me, get me going and aroused without over stimulating at first.

"Can I have an orgasm?" I asked... well, sort of begged.

"Soon. Soon, dear."

He kissed my clit and got another needle. After playing with my other labia lip a bit, he ran the needle through that one too. I grunted and another tear came down from one eye.

"You know something, you are soooo wet. You really like this, don't you?"

I shook my head violently, but he was right. My pussy was wet and there was only one reason.

I was getting off on this. I wanted an orgasm from it though.

"OK. If you want an orgasm you can have one, but you have to take more to your boobs. OK??"

"Oh... fuck you!" I cried out in frustration.

"I know you'd like that, but maybe later. Right now there's an offer on the table. More needles in the breasts for a nice orgasm. What's it to be?"

I gritted my teeth and nodded my head. "Fine. More needles."

Bill smiled big and kissed my lips.

"That's my girl. Let's hurt you some more, shall we?"

But... before the needles went in he got the clit vibrator and positioned it just right. It went on low and I immediately arched my back, trying to press it in a bit harder, but my hips were strapped in.

And it simply shifted the vibrator.

Bill put it back in place. "Siobhan, you have to stay still now. Writhing around will just push the vibrator around and I am not going to keep putting it back. Just relax and let it do its work."

I did. The vibrator was on low, which was what I wanted when I first started out. I would need it turned up in a bit, but until my clit gets engorged and a bit numb from the stim, I can't stand the higher settings.

The needles were no longer a novelty. I had... what... at least six in me by now. They hurt, but I was learning it wasn't that bad, it was over quickly and the pain didn't linger too badly.

So I sat there trying not to writhe in either pleasure from the vibrator or pain from more needles in my boobs.

Bill encouraged me, turned the vibrator up after a few more needles went in, and told me to cum. I didn't need his permission but I did need a bit more time.  I pushed forward against the vibrator slightly and closed my eyes.

The orgasm was coming. I could feel it.

Just as I began to flush from the orgasm (I get flushed red spots on my chest and neck when I have a strong climax) he pushed another needle in. I didn't even react to it, I just concentrated on getting my body to orgasm, and was rewarded seconds later.

"Oh.... fffuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkk...." I moaned and took several deep breaths.

I was slowly but surely being turned into a human pin cushion, and while it hurt, it didn't hurt enough I couldn't orgasm.

Which I did.  A second time.

While I was concentrating on my clit and the vibrator (it was also touching the needles in my labia which introduced and interesting vibration in those foreign objects), Bill continued to insert needles, primarily into random areas of my breasts.

Each time one rammed through my flesh I yelped and my mind was distracted briefly from the vibrator, but after a few seconds my body continued where it had left off-- slowly building to a climax.

Needles in the breast tissue itself probably hurt the least. Second was the needle through the nipple, the one where he drove it straight in. My poor nipple was still throbbing from that one. The

After two orgasms (which are sort of obvious with me because I jerk a bit and moan and shudder and my chest and neck flushes), he took the vibrator away.

"Oh god... thank you for the orgasms," I thanked him. He needed to know I appreciated his cooperation.

"You are welcome," Bill said. He kissed me on my lips lovingly.

Have I mentioned he loves me most when he is torturing me? Yeah...

"Now I have a couple of other needles I want to try. These are not regular syringe needles. They are designed for reaching into the body, pulling out fluid or getting to internal organs."

He pulled out a needle I had not seen on his tray.

"Oh my god..." I swore looking at the thing.

Looking down at my breasts I saw a dozen needles, but compared to this one they were all small.

This new thing must have been six inchest long. What do you use a needle like that for, anyway???

For impaling my breasts, of course.

I realized that so far the needles I'd taken had all hurt, but not really that badly. I had more pain with a good caning, or flogging. I'd even have nipple clamps that were more painful than the needles I'd take.

They weren't comfortable, they really did hurt going on, but a lot of it was the novelty of having my flesh violated painfully, repeatedly. As with many things kink, I was getting used to it and no longer feared the needles, was not terrified of them at least.

"These are not disposable," he explained, "too expensive. So I sterilized them before hand. Heated them over a flame, then soaked in alcohol. Ready?"

I was staring at myself and my poor breast in the mirror as he positioned the needle above. I didn't say anything when he asked, but it didn't matter.

The needle pressed down and I cried out-- it hadn't even pierced the skin yet. He pushed harder, it hurt and I moaned and whimpered. He pushed even harder and I could feel my flesh stretching, resisting, then suddenly giving way to the point as the thing penetrated my breast.

"OOOWWWWW......"

"Not done yet..." Bill said calmly and kept pushing. I was breathing harder, moaning and scrunching my face as the pain of the needle going through layers and layers of flesh in my boob kept going on and on...

It stretched then popped out the other side.

"Tada!" he said happily.

This needle was still hurting. I whimpered, the pain still throbbing in my breast, deep inside.

"We can do this with your breasts because it is all soft tissue. Low density. Not like sticking needles into muscle or tendon."

I understood that, but it still hurt.

"Time for my reward," he said. He'd been clothed up until then, but stripped and folded his clothes neatly to the side. Once completely naked he approached me.

The needles were still in me, all over my boobs and several in my cunt lips. For the most part, they were a bit sore but not really hurting.

His cock was hard when it came out of his pants; he'd had a bulge since the moment I walked into his place.

Presenting me with his member, I opened my mouth obediently and took it. If I hadn't, he'd have simply used a ring gag and that wasn't necessary this time. I was sufficiently demoralized from having been repeatedly pierced with needles I wasn't in the mood to fight him.

He fucked my face until I felt him tense and being pushing deeper, making me gag a bit. I gasped but kept going.

As he came he grabbed my hair and rammed deep, pulling my head in until his entire cock was inside me. That meant I couldn't breathe, and my gag reflex was making my stomach and throat contract as I fought the desire to barf.


The needles were gone from my mind, he had reached the point where he wanted to be deep inside me so he could cum, but wasn't quite there yet.

A little barf came up, stuff that hurts the throat because it is like acid. He pulled out briefly then shoved back in.

Being face fucked when bound is a degrading experience, it emphasizes just how helpless one is. I couldn't stop him from doing me. I could struggle, but it wouldn't help.

My best option in these situations is to encourage the cock to ejaculate as fast as possible so I can get it out of my throat.

I tongued, squeezed, barfed a little, moved my head back and forth, fucked his cock with my throat and was rewarded with the warm, pulsing stream of cum sliding down into my stomach.

He kept his cock inside for a few seconds after cumming, deep enough I couldn't breathe and I jerked around a bit in growing panic as he held my head tightly.

Then the release and the fantastic gasping feeling of air returning.

It was over.

Well, mostly. He slimed my face with his cock just to remind me what a whore I was, then set about removing needles.

Turns out removing needles is a lot easier than inserting them, but not entirely without discomfort.

He started with my cunt, pulling the needles there out slowly, and fingering my clit a bit just to make sure I associated the feeling of needles in my flesh with sexual pleasure.

They hurt coming out, a little. I watched in the mirror and felt relief when my cunt was needle free. It bled just a tiny bit.

Next came my boobs, which were aching from the needle abuse earlier.

That took a little longer, as there were more needles in my breasts.

Each came out slowly and with just a little discomfort. Tiny drops of blood emerged from the puncture points. There hadn't really been any blood prior to that.

After pulling the smaller needles out he went to the two large ones, the skewers that had gone all the way through and were still throbbing a bit.

The large skewers hurt coming out. Not nearly as bad as going in, but they hurt and I ground my teeth and strained a bit against the straps as he slowly but steadily dragged those things out of my breasts. There was more blood from those things, which he wiped up with a sterile cloth, then wiped my breasts with some antiseptic.

What a great guy. Taking care of me after he damaged my body. (I actually did appreciate it).

One thing about Bill and one reason I let him do stuff to me was his care and aftercare. He could be ruthless, technical, unfeeling during the scene. waving the needle in front of my eyes as I cried and begged him not to, then slowly inserting it and beginning again. He escalated the experience slowly but surely, moving from relatively minor insertions in my breasts, to more painful needles in my labia, and finally to those large skewers.

But he made sure nothing got infected, he watched my reactions and understood how close I was to my limits. Afterward he held me and made it clear I was precious to him and loved me and brought me down off the high.

I have to admit in retrospect Bill freaked me out a lot with that first needle experience. He drew it out and played on my fears, which was his intent, of course. A lot of it was the whole idea of having my body cut into, pierced and penetrated. That was mentally challenging to me.

Yeah, it hurt, especially those big ones.

But ultimately the pain involved was actually pretty minor to many other things I've experienced. The experience was actually much more mental and Bill did a great job of needling my psyche.

Needle play can be more painful than that first time with him, but in general I'd rather have a small needle in my boob than a prolonged electric shock to my nipple, or a really nasty caning.