Sore in a Business Meeting

I am sore.

I'm sitting in a boring meeting at work thinking and writing about how sore I am.

I haven't been this sore in a while. I am at work and it is distracting. It reminds me that I do some rather extreme stuff outside of work, some things these people sitting the conference room talking about switches and routers and WAFs and data center leases would probably be shocked to know about.

(Just a bit of side news: I've collared my girlfriend. This has meaning to her. Something like a binding slave contract, though not nearly as rigid or legal. I'm coming to love that obedient bitch. 

I was collared to my husband and would prefer to be the submissive one, but my current relationship as the domme is working. She understands my needs (she has many of the same needs) and lets me pursue them. )

So last Saturday, four days ago, I visited a friend and dom who is one of the most knowledgeable and best doms I know. My ex is better, but not by much. We shall call him Dean.

Dean has a friend called the Marlboro Man. I think that's because he used to smoke them. Not sure.

I let the two of them team up on me. They are both bi so they rather enjoy having me suffer while they engage in pleasurable activities. Dean sort of outdid himself this time.

Each bit of soreness in my body reflects something Dean (or Marlboro) did to me. Just for background, Dean is older than me, not good looking at all, but fit enough with a good cock. Marlboro is a bit old, very good looking, fit, and has a huge cock. One of those cocks women think twice about and are probably a genetic defect.

So as I sit in this meeting and feel the soreness of my body, I think about what caused it. Starting with my nose. I just rubbed my nose and felt a sore place; inside the both nostrils.

Nose hooks. These don't really hurt, unless they've been pulled really tight and start digging in. Which Dean did. The twine holding the hook tight in my nose was pulled back and tied to a ring in the head harness.

I can still feel where the hooks smashed the inside of my nose and twisted it out of shape. I was called "little piggy" a few times. It was uncomfortable, and a bit humiliating. I'm good looking. Not gorgeous, I have an accurate self image and am not naive, but I am good looking. Having my face twisted out of shape to look like a pig and then called names by men that have me bound and helpless is humiliating.

Jaw and cheeks and gums. Like... owwww... I felt that at lunch today and I can feel it now sitting in this meeting.

These were caused by the gags, but mostly the ring gag. He used a ball gag most of the time which wasn't as bad, but the head harness had a really big ring gag.

I remember opening my mouth when Dean went to put it in. I opened wide and it wasn't wide enough. I made grunting protest noises but Dean didn't hesitate, he just slid it in, pressed and pushed and my jaw went further wide open than it was really designed to do and I moaned and whimpered as he fastened the buckles in the back of my head. He knows to ignore my whimpers and begging.

Try it. Open your mouth. Wider. Make it as wide as you can open it. Now imagine someone stuffing a metal ring in that stretches it farther and once in it's stuck that wide open. You can feel the ache in your jaw I bet. Yeah. Like that.

Ball gags can be pushed out with the tongue, and ring gags can be manipulated to flip sideways unless they are spider gags or unless the strap is on tightly. The ring gag was on tightly, and Dean pulled it tighter. That made the straps dig into the corners of my mouth, putting my lips into something of a rictus.

The gag itself was big enough it pressed rather painfully on the inside of my mouth. Not the gums, per say, but just behind the teeth. Yeah, it's smooth and rounded, but it still hurts. And this hurt.

My cheeks and the corners of my mouth are all better now, a couple days later, but the inside of my mouth is still healing from that damn ring gag that rubbed and bruised my inside mouth flesh. I'm sitting in this meeting right now, and running my tongue over the inside of my mouth I can feel a couple of nasty sore spots. They might even still be bleeding a tiny bit.

And of course my jaw... you can't hold your mouth that wide open for an hour or more without some real cramping setting in. There's lingering soreness in my jaw as I sit and listen to the CIO complain about data center costs.

So that was my head, and believe me there were times when that was plenty of pain, much of it lingering after the devices were removed. Enough I had tears on my face. I think that was the point. Dean likes to make me cry.

It didn't stop there though. Oh, no. No... it hadn't even begun.

Shoulders and upper arms.

Yeah, now those are still sore. I don't even have to move them right now, sitting at this table, to feel the aching. I used heat on them the night after the scene. I didn't seriously pull any muscles, but they were strained.

Marlboro tied my elbows together. Some people can do that, some can't. It's easier if you are skinny. I am not skinny, just average, but I've had my elbows tied enough times I am flexible and can do it no problem. I can do reverse prayers, as well.

So the elbow tie was uncomfortable but not terrible until he hooked me to a rope from the ceiling and lifted me up and off my feet. That's strappado, an actual torture used by a lot of people including the inquisition and the Nazis.

I'm looking across the table at my CIO. I wonder what he would think if he knew I had been suspended naked by my elbows for 15 minutes Saturday afternoon? I suspect he's a horny bastard, he'd probably want to fuck me while I dangled.

Fifteen minutes doesn't seem like a long time, but when your body weight is dangling from elbows pulled and tied behind your back and every tiny movement makes it worse-- it's forever.

He let me down after 15 minutes of working on my breasts (though I went back up later). Elbows behind back mean breasts sticking out begging to be played with. Dean loves to hurt my tits. They were slapped a few times, but that isn't what caused the soreness I feel now.

No, my nipples are sore now (every time I move they rub against my bra) because of the clamps. Dean put his nastiest clamps on me. These clamps have rubber tips, which is deceptive because the spring on them is so tight they smash the flesh down to nothing. My nipples are literally bruised and hurt.

The pain brought tears to my eyes (again) when the clamps went on.

At this point my jaw was hurting, my shoulders and elbows were under strain because I was dangling from them and the clamps just added another dimension to the pain my body was feeling.

To be honest, I wanted out. I'm not a true pain slut, but have learned to bear it because it intensifies the feelings of helplessness from being bound and manipulated by someone else.

But I have also trained myself not to use my safe word, and to bear it. To just... endure.

So when they took twine attached to the nipple clamps and began pulling on them, to make my body swing back and forth, I sobbed. Not just tears, I cried. I begged them to have mercy.

Those Dean pulled the clamps, watching me swing back and forth, while Marlboro took his cock and did a pretty deep blow job. Dean was getting off on my tears and begging, knowing how much pain I was in.

Well, I am thinking of that now as I sit in this meeting. I'm thinking about two days ago when I was hanging with my arms tied being my back, breasts sticking out, gagged with a ring gag, naked, nipple clamps used to swing me back and forth like a toy while two men give each other blow jobs; my pain and misery stimulating them to speedier orgasms.

I was lifted up twice, each time for about 15 minutes, then let back down for a rest. The second suspension was the one that really gave me the strained muscles I think. Sitting here in the meeting now, I can move my arm, put my hand behind my head or reach it out to push a button on the speaker phone and feel the muscles in my shoulder and side protest. The ache goes all the way to my chest, under my breasts.

What else is sore?

My back. I rarely get sore in my back from bondage, but this time it sure happened.

Without untying my arms, Dean brought me down and created a hogtie. My ankles got tied to my elbow ties and cinched up, pulling my legs back and toward my head.

Hogties can be fine, but when they are cinched tight they get really painful. And this was cinched to tied elbows, which didn't help at all.

I was there for a few minutes while the two men discussed whether they would piss on me or not. Piss is a soft limit for me. I hate it, it isn't fun, and Dean knows that if he does it I might call a halt and maybe even back off from visiting him.

So wisely, he decided not to piss on me, and just applied a vibrator to my cunt.

Then lifted me up into the air. I didn't realize he had done it until I was going up, but the cinch rope of the hog tied was hooked to the pulley rope and up I went.

That's what really caused this sort back. I can't sit still with it, I keep leaning forward or going back. People in the meeting must think I am high on too much caffeine, rather than sore from being tied up and sexually tortured over the weekend.

I dangled there for a while.

Dean and Marlboro had played with each other for a while. Marlboro had ejaculated, I think, into Dean's mouth, but I don't think Dean had cum yet. Marlboro is really resilient and gets hard again fast.

Truly being suspended means slowly twisting or rocking back and forth or turning. God I hate that. It is the feeling of being absolutely no control over your body at all. I hate it so much it almost gives me an orgasm by itself.

Then there was the ass hook. Yeah, Dean has an ass hook and just couldn't leave me alone to suffer, he had to keep adding stuff. So the hook went in my ass and got tied to my head harness so it would stay in, nice and snug.

The ass hook did not cause my ass to be sore, though. Well, it would have, but something much bigger and worse made my insides ache today as I sit giving a report on bandwidth usage.

I was up there for a while, which caused the back pain I am feeling now, as well as the tail bone ache that is plaguing me.

Marlboro lowered me enough he could take my gag off (thank you, thank you, oh god...) and stick his cock into my mouth. He was a bit soft from having cum inside Dean's mouth and it was my job to get him hard again. I did my best, which turned out to be enough because he pulled out after a coupe of minutes with a nice hard one.

The last round of abuse was what really caused my ass to hurt and make me squirm in my seat during this meeting.

It's not impossible to fuck me when I am hogtied, but it is difficult. The knees and legs get in the way. Tied ankles get in the way. It's hard without a lot of elaborate positioning.

So Dean and Marlboro lifted me up and plopped me down on a chair. My ankles got untied and retied to the back of the chair, and then cinched and pulled back further. The result was my ass and cunt laying out in the open, just waiting for them to use my holes.

A good deep fuck by a big cock can leave me sore all the way inside my abdomen, especially when the guy pounds me hard, which Marlboro did.

He traded off with Dean, who used my ass. I swear, right now in the conference room, I can still feel the throbbing deep in my rectum from where he pounded me.

I think that's really what got me thinking, sitting here in this meeting at work. The fact that my insides are actually sore. Up inside my ass, in my rectum, not to mention my sphincter. But also up inside my vagina, and what I assume is my cervix. I ache deep inside from the cocks that spent a fair amount of time ramming inside me while I just jiggled around in the chair, helpless, making drooling gurgles and moans.

Some of that deep inside soreness has to come from the ass hook, as well, I am sure.

Fuck, it was an intense weekend that left me needing a day to recover. I want another one.

Oops. Time for me to get up and speak. Laters...

Outdoor Self Bondage Experiment

(I'm going to admit up front that I did some dumb things here. I prepared and had backup plans, but ultimately I wouldn't recommend anyone doing what I did. In fact, I wouldn't recommend that I do it.)

Since the divorce things have changed quite a bit. I'm no longer in a 24/7 s/m relationship. At first I missed that. It was actually very difficult when he removed my slave collar. I'd worn that thing for several years and felt completely naked with it off; it was emotionally devastating.

When I first established life on my own it was difficult finding reliable bondage partners. I don't trust strangers from fetlife or some other forum, so I was restricted to people I knew or were referred to me. The problem was that several of my regular play partners hesitated to get involved with me in my new situation.

Yeah, I was sort of abandoned. I guess that happens with a breakup. People choose sides, or maybe they simply don't want to get involved, risk the perception that they've taken sides. I used to be his slave; a lot of people didn't want to step in and take his place. I not only lost friends from the divorce, I lost masters.

But I did rediscover the joys of self bondage. I quickly (like within a few days) had begun relearning and exercising my self bondage skills that had been dormant for a number of years. In fact, I began to remember just how awesome self bondage is. I do prefer the complete loss of control at another person's hand, with no escape until another decides it. But self bondage has an element of planning, excitement, creativity, and pleasure that is unique.

Since that time I've re-established myself both with Jason (my ex) and a couple of other partners that are truly first class at what they do, and also expanded into experimentation with a woman I have a relationship with now. But I have decided I want to continue self bondage from time to time to keep my hand in and to provide the variety and fun that comes with it.

Part of the fun of self bondage is planning and creating new scenarios. This can involve coming up with new positions, but also with methods of stimulating the body while tied up. Stimulation can be either pleasurable sexual stimulation, pain, or both.

I love rope bondage the most, it's always been my first love. But it is also true that rope bondage does not lend itself to self bondage. It's possible, and I do it, but it is a lot easier to release yourself using a key that a knife or shears.

It's also a lot faster to restrain yourself using shackles or cuffs or locks than with ropes that require cinch ties and are prone to failure (too loose/too tight).

A little while back I found myself wanting to expand my self bondage and try something very different and new. I thought and dreamed about options for a while, and came up with a scenario that I eventually implemented.

Bondage materials:

• Head harness with ball gag, collar with D rings and a descending strap in the back.
• Manacles for wrists attached to descending strap in back.
• Waist and crotch harness, locking.
• Transport style ankle manacles with a chain about two feet long between the ankles.

Release mechanism: travel to a previously cached key some distance away.

Stimulation: Four lead programmable TENS unit.

Location: A trail and meadow not too far from Palomar Mountain.

Yeah, there were a couple of weird things I did with this one, and one was that I wanted an outdoor self bondage experience. Outdoor bondage provides an added sense of vulnerability and helplessness. It also adds a certain nervous thrill over the possibility of being seen or discovered. I'm not an exhibitionist, but I have found that doing things that are risky can provide an extra thrill that drives my adrenaline and gets my heart pumping.

The second weird aspect of this scenario involved a thing I had never done before. I toyed with the idea of using a full hood on myself, cutting out vision and limiting hearing. Hoods tend to increase the feeling of helplessness, and I love/hate them. I actually had that bit planned when a different idea came to me.

Blackout, opaque contact lenses. The idea of temporarily blinding myself was thrilling. I wear contacts almost all the time, so wearing contacts wouldn't be an issue for me. Yes, a hood would accomplish the same thing, but for some reason the blackout lenses excited me, as if I would be truly blinded and helpless. It's sort of like being bagged-- you can see everything around you, you can breath air in and out, but you are slowly asphyxiating with a rising tide of panic. The idea of being blinded without anything covering my face or eyes made me wet just thinking about it.

It's also true that wearing a full hood out in the wilderness someplace has certain risks and I liked the idea of simply being unable to see without any external appliances.

There's a couple of companies online that sell sclera special effects contact lenses,  and also have completely opaque blackout lenses. I bought several sets, just so I could get used to them.

When they arrived I tried a set on and actually left them on for a while and yep, they blinded me. The experience was eerie, because I couldn't see a thing even though my eyes were open and had no blindfold or anything else on. Exactly what I wanted.

I wore them around my girlfriend a bit just to get used to them. She said they made me look eerie (which was kind of cool) and took pics of my eyes. My eyes are dark brown anyway and the blackout contacts didn't change there look drastically, but the solid opaqueness across the iris and the pupil could be seen and was indeed eerie. I think it was eerie because it looks like the pupil has expanded all the way until there is no iris left.

I then started looking for an outdoor area for the self bondage experience. I visited several areas, searching for one that was remote enough I could get myself restrained, travel some distance and let myself free, with minimal risk of running into anyone (no major hiking trails). It also had to be accessible, and not overly rugged. I wanted to hike and have to expend some effort, but didn't want to destroy my feet, fall, and break my bones in the process.

(In spite of what some people have claimed, I am not insane).

After finding the location, I parked and went back and forth, identifying where I would do this adventure. I memorized the ups and downs, where the trail went, the curves, bushes and trees along the way (some parts were exposed in a type of flat meadow area, others were in trees).

I practiced with the blind lenses again, making sure I could wear them without a problem (for the self bondage, once they went in I wouldn't be able to take them out again). They did let a little light through, but I couldn't see anything useful at all. They were not the highest quality comfortable lenses, but I could do it.

Looking forward to a planned self bondage session is half the pleasure, sort of like looking forward to your next vacation. I masturbated a number of times thinking about the plans, the details, the helplessness I would experience, the risk I would be taking.

The day of the event was selected and I was ready. The items I needed were simple. This wasn't a complex bondage routine. The entire week leading up to that day I abstained from sex. I didn't masturbate. I was completely celibate. (My girlfriend protested a bit, but we found other nice things to do, and snuggling was OK).

The day of I left an envelope of details as to where I would be with my girlfriend, who had instructions to open it at 5:00pm if I didn't show up.

I then gave myself an enema. This might sound strange but really it isn't; in fact it is common to give myself an enema often before any kind of intense scene or self bondage. Some scenes can get intense enough there can be loss of bowel control (usually minor but, hey... even a little is too much). It can also increase discomfort if I am tied up, restrained and find the urge to go.

Lastly, in some scenes (such as this self bondage I was about to engage in) things go up my ass and it's just nicer if it is clean.

After that bit of prep, I drove out to the trail head access and parked. As usual, I was the only person there.

I was excited. Nervous. I wanted to masturbate in my car before I began but refused to let myself. This is rather common for me before a scene, either self bondage or submitting to another, I tend to get excited in anticipation, my heart rate goes up and I get wet.

Yes, I was wet. I climbed out of my car along with the backpack of supplies and reached down and inside my shorts, touching myself. I was wet.

I set off hiking along a the trail. It actually wasn't much of a trail, this wasn't a place people commonly hiked (this was on purpose, of course). It was a beautiful day, sunny with a light breeze and blue sky; puffy white clouds floated by. I felt alive, and sexy, and aroused, and excited.

It took almost half an hour to get to the first location. A stump in a relatively clear area. My padlocks (there were two) both opened with the same key, and I had two of these keys. One of these keys I placed in a small crack on the top of the stump, sticking up where it could easily be felt. There was another key for the ankle shackles, which also went on the stump.

That was all for that location. Just the keys.

I continued hiking toward the meadow. This stretch was on a rather primitive trail, perhaps even a deer or animal trail, through some trees. There was a small creek I passed; it had a bit of water in it, though not much. Then the meadow. The large, open space with hills in the distance, trees scattered around. I marched to the oak tree in the middle.

I drank water, lots of it. If something happened, I wouldn't be able to drink and needed to be hydrated. I had already eaten a light breakfast.

Breathing in the clear air of the countryside (then sneezing because of my allergies), I enjoyed the peace and silence for a moment, then began the process.

First, I removed my top, a simple T-shirt made of light material. Tight enough to show my shape; I enjoy being attractive, sexy, and even a little slutty when heading to a scene. It puts me in the right mood.

Then my bra. I was topless in the open. It felt exhilarating.

I removed my boots (I had light hiking boots), then slipped off my shorts. I folded everything in a small pile at the base of the tree.

Last my panties, and I was naked. I wore no jewelry (I never do during a scene).

It was a combination of scary, exciting, arousing and cold standing in the field, naked.

I put the boots back on. I was going to be walking across some rugged terrain, and am not completely insane. I would easily tear my feet to shreds without the boots. It felt especially weird being naked, completely, except for boots. Huh.

The equipment for the self bondage was removed from the backpack, and the clothes replaced them inside.

First, the TENS unit and crotch strap. The TENS unit had to go on first.

I would have loved to have done something to stimulate my clit, give me pleasure and maybe force an orgasm or two while I was trying to get out of this whole predicament, but to tell you the truth automated, hands free clit vibrators just don't work well. They slip, they don't stimulate enough, they fall off, they are just in general unpredictable and disappointing. Pain, on the other hand, is something I can generate and make pretty reliable.

The TENS unit has four leads-- one set of positive and negative electrodes each. The two sets can be programmed separately. Normally the electrodes would need to be attached to either some sort of conductive sticky patch, or to a clamp or clip (which doesn't work as well).  I would do neither in this case.

The wired ends of the electrodes don't usually have any effect directly on flesh-- the contact isn't good enough. But... not all flesh is created equal. Insert those wired electrodes inside your body and they get very good contact. Better than with electrode patches on the flesh, I've found.

That's what I did. Each set of electrodes had been prepped, wrapped together using tape, back to back. There in the field I bent over, spread my legs a bit, and pushed one set of electrodes slowly into my anus. Once past the sphincter I kept pushing so they got a couple of inches up into my rectum.

OK... second set went up my cunt. Easier to do, I just slid the taped-together wires up my vagina two or three inches. Far enough they were well seated in there and wouldn't get pulled out easily. The tape on my thigh and hip and the strap would keep it in as well.

I knew from experience that the inside of both orifices would be quite sensitive to electrical stimulation-- and pain. The sensations from inside my rectum and deep inside my vagina are quite close and the pain seems to move from one place to another, as if there was a drill running through the thin wall between the two passages.

Part of self bondage is preparing yourself for the fact you might not like what you are creating once you are in the bondage, but making sure you can't get out of it. That's part of the thrill. Creating something you have no choice but to endure.

In this case I had to make sure I didn't later decide that I didn't like the electrical shocks I had set up for myself and manage to dislodge or pull out the wires. They had to stay in until I got the key, unlocked my bondage, and the scene was over.

The first step in this was to tape the wires to my thigh and crotch. I folded the extra length of wire leads into a tight bundle and pressed them against my left inner thigh. I then took some duct tape and wrapped it around my thigh and the wire leads, wrapping the tape around my upper leg about ten times. The wire was pretty secure, but I added a couple of more loops higher up my crotch quite close to my cunt, just to make sure.

Even that wasn't enough. That's were the waist and crotch strap came in. It's a relatively simple strap, not like the complicated ones that go all over your body. No, this just encircles the waist and can be tightened above the hips to prevent it from being slid off.

Another attached strap goes down between the legs and up the back side, covering the ass crack (or squeezing inside and spreading the crack, depending on how tight you make it.

Both stretches of strap can be locked in place.

The crotch strap/waist harness is also a good spot to anchor the TENS unit. I slipped the smallish box into the back of the waist strap using a small case that came with the unit. It was secure there, the belt part looped through the case and I had duct-taped the place where the wire leads plugged into the unit to prevent it from coming loose "inadvertently".

With the strap on and wires either tucked away or taped securely in place, I put the lock on the strap and clicked it shut. I now had a pre-programmed torture device attached to me. I turned it on.

Next came the ankle shackles. Very easy items. I sat down at the base of the tree and said OWWW and got up again. My bare ass on some rocks and tree roots. I chose a place more carefully and sat, leaned down and clicked the ankle shackles in place.

There was only one key for those, and it was back at the stump, but the ankle shackles were not as big of a deal-- the chain between them was about two feet long, which meant you could walk, you just couldn't take big steps or run.

I smiled and relaxed a moment when the shackles when on my legs, feeling the sensation of being bound, however loosely. The only way to get those off was to walk twenty minutes to the stump.

OK, so waist, cunt, ass, and ankles all set, time for the neck. I had a leather collar that included an attached strip descending the back. Dangling from that leather strip in the back were the handcuffs, all ready to go.

The collar went around my neck and I cinched it tight (not too tight but tight enough I could feel it). It felt good. I like being collared. The strap with the cuffs dangled down my back behind.

Right about then the TENS unit went through its first cycle. I felt a vibrating tingle, not painful but it had the odd feeling of making my ass feel as if it had something inside it. This went on for ten seconds then stopped. It was immediately followed by the same tingling vibration, almost a mild sting, inside my vagina. Ten seconds and it was over.

After the TENS unit finished its play between my legs, I went on to another thing I added at the last moment. Nipple clamps. I hadn't intended to use them because frankly... I've had my nipples clamped more times than I could possibly count, and the pain from the TENS unit was probably going to be plenty. But at the last moment I decided why not?

Many nipple clamps come on chains that connect them together, which looks nice and you can hang weights on them. I didn't use those for two reasons. First, I figured the chain would make it fairly easy to pull them off once I was bound and suffering, and I didn't want that. Second, I put bells on each one as a form of self humiliation. I thought about myself, naked, blind and in pain, staggering through the countryside, trying to find my key... all the while making little tinkling noises like a human wind chime.

I got them out and applied them to my nipples. They hurt, the first pain of the day. Most nipple clamps hurt, though there is a tremendous range of discomfort based on what kind of clamp they are, how tight they are, and where they are applied. These hurt enough to be distracting, and I knew they might actually be enough to distract from the pain that would be occurring in my cunt as ass pretty soon.

OK, so waist, cunt, ass, ankles, neck and tits all done. Next, the weirdest part. My eyes.

I picked up the contact container (the dangling bells making a small tinkling noise as I did) and popped open one of the two reservoirs that contained some saline and the contact. It stared at me, a solid black circle, daring me to put it on. I slid it out of the saline onto my finger, tilted my head back slightly and popped it in.

I went blind in one eye.

Popping open the second reservoir, I got the second contacted on my finger and popped it in.

And I was blind.

There actually was a tiny bit of light that filtered through the dark lenses, just enough I could tell it was sunny out. But I could see nothing. I was blind.

My heart was beating so fast at that moment and I could feel my cunt getting so wet. I wanted to masturbate in that field, under that tree, right then. But I held firm and refused.

I put the contact container down. I was almost done, but not quite. I noticed I had whimpered a little at the pain in my nipples. Nipple pain is actually so common for me I become aroused automatically whenever nipple clamps are applied. It still hurt.

So.... I bent down and felt around until I found...

The last item before actually locking my hands in the cuffs-- the head harness. A simple three point face harness with built in ball gag. I'd used it many times. It was comfortable, except wearing the ball gag tightly for long periods pulled on the corners of my mouth and could get painful, but then, that actually is what tight bondage is about. Discomfort and endurance.

The head harness was done late in the process, primarily because of the blackout contacts. The contacts actually do blind me-- and I wanted to get as much done as I could before I lost my sight. But because the head harness face straps go on either side of my nose and block easy access to my eyes, I had to wait until they were in before I did the head harness.

I buckled the head harness on tightly, cinching the straps. The one that held the ball gag in place I made sure was cinched extra tight so I couldn't expel the gag. Ball gags are actually easy to push out if you don't cinch them quite tight.

The TENS unit kicked in again. Oh god, it was annoying. It vibrated and stung just a little. Ten seconds in my ass followed by ten seconds in my vagina. I'd started the program on the lowest setting. If this had been on my skin, even with good contact pads, I wouldn't have felt it. But inside? Yeah. I felt it.

The head harness has one strap that goes straight up over my forehead and cross the top of my head, right where I part my hair. I had previously placed the second key to my locks on the inside of that strap, secured in place by several strips of tape. I would not be able to get to it, but if for any reason I ran across someone or someone rescued me, they could access it and free me.

Effectively blinded and gagged, I was ready for the last part. Locking my wrists in place. This is that special act that creates so much adrenaline it is almost the climax, the ultimate part of the whole self-bondage experience. That one moment where you step from freedom to irreversible restraint.

I put my left hand behind my back. The strap in the back was located only a foot below my neck, forcing me to bring my wrist up high. My wrists were not going to be in a reverse prayer, but they'd be high enough for it.  It was a strained.

The left cuff clicked into place. My right arm was still free-- it was still possible to bail, and get out of this. I waited for a moment, naked, blind, gagged, in pain... and closed the cuff around my right wrist.

I swear I almost had an orgasm right then. That moment when I clicked the cuff closed on my right wrist and I was committed.

My breathing was heavy, so much so my breasts were wobbling a tiny bit and my bells rang. I felt myself flush a little with embarrassment. The nipple clamps were still hurting like hell, though the pain would subside a bit in a few minutes, I knew. They were one thing I could remove if I really had to-- sit down and bend over and use my feet to grab the bells and pull them off. Which would also hurt like hell and I hoped I wouldn't have to do that.

So, time to try to find my key while blind. I had gone over the path several times, listened to audible landmarks, felt the path and noticed the obstacles, figured out landmarks I could locate as I walked. It would be a challenge, but I was confident. Not as confident as when I could see, though, and I began to wish I had taken a dry run while unrestrained but blind.

I started by finding a knot in the tree I knew pointed the right way, and followed some tree roots a few feet out to get started in the right direction. My clothes remained behind in the backpack.

The whole thing started off well, though I noticed immediately that while the sun was warm, the breeze was cool. It hadn't been a problem when I was dressed, but I was stark naked now and I imagined I had goose bumps, and my nipples would have been standing out of they hadn't been squished out.

The TENS unit was programmed to hit me with a cycle of ten seconds each, ass then cunt, every two minutes. It was also designed to bump the intensity by two each time it went through a cycle. This TENS unit had levels from one to 50. That means that 20 minutes later, when I would presumably get close to the key, I'd be at level 20.  Level 20 is enough to feel somewhat painful on my skin; nipples, cunt, legs, whatever-- it would hurt.

Inside? Inside my ass? Inside my (now very wet) vagina? 20 would would be agony. This was a motivator. Get the key now because if you don't you are going to be in a world of hurt. Literally.

I began to move quickly across the meadow, shivering in the cool breeze. This was in Autumn, but you have to realize that Autumn in southern California is actually rather warm. It can be downright hot. But for some reason, the breeze was cool that day. Just my luck.

I tried to move faster,  but there was an effective limit on how fast I could go, imposed by the leg shackles. I learned this the hard way-- I tried to go too fast, took too long a stride and hit the limits of the shackle chain. It jerked my leg and I fell. *Whump*. Damn.

Getting up was a bit of a struggle because I couldn't use my arms and my feet were limited to being two feet from each other. But I managed and continued on my way.

Of course I quickly realized I had been knocked off course when I fell.

Wham, the TENS unit hit me again. I think I was up to a 6 and it was no longer a little vibrate, it was painful. I didn't stop moving though, I just took the pain and kept walking.

And ran into a tree.

Fuck.

I stopped and listened, and determined I was probably close to the right spot and I just needed to head left a little.

Not being able to see was such an incredible psych trip. I wasn't blindfolded, no hood, I just couldn't see. One of my senses was just gone.

Wow, I felt helpless. That helpless feeling is exactly what I want and need from self (or any) bondage but this was crazy.

I was blind, bound, able to only walk slowly, and *whammo* the TENS unit hit me again and I bent over in surprise. It hadn't been two minutes, had it? My ass burned for ten seconds, then my vagina burned and buzzed for ten seconds, then I resumed walking.

I had to admit I had no idea if I was on the right track until I hit the stream. There was the little stream halfway to the key. I splashed across it then felt for the path. It was here somewhere.

Just then I heard a noise. Just after hearing the noise the TENS unit fired off, this time at maybe... a 10? And I just fell to the ground in a fetal position, letting the pain sweep through my groin, traveling from my ass to my vagina as if it were moving through the flesh... then it stopped and I continued laying on the dirt, listening.

I really did not want to be discovered. I had heard something moving in the bracken nearby, so I lay still, naked and restrained and with my little tit bells silent.

There was no other sound so I figured it wasn't a human. Not necessarily a good thing, because it could have been a bird, or a dog, or a coyote, or a mountain lion........ or a squirrel.

My tits were hurting and the TENS unit hit me again and I groaned and curled up on the ground for 20 seconds until it passed. Fortunately, my falling to the ground had confirmed I was on the path I wanted to follow. I recognized the hard pack dirt and bushes to the side that I seriously hoped were not poison ivy.

I decided my nipples had experienced enough pain for the day and sat on my ass, leaned over as far as I could until my tit bells scraped the ground (god those things were humiliating, whatever made me think they were a good idea?) and tried to move my feet close enough to where I could get to the dangling things.

It wasn't too hard, actually, the bells dangled down far enough I got the left one between my boots, squeezed on it and then moved my chest up. The clamp hung on to my poor stretched nipple, hurting like hell, until it finally shot off and I literally screamed into my ball gag. If a person was around, they knew I was there.

Damn I wished I could reach my poor left nipple and massage it-- that helps. But I couldn't and simply leaned over to pull off my right nipple clamp. Again, not hard, just fucking painful. I screamed into the gag mostly because it made me feel better and just as I was finishing up the scream the fucking TENS unit hit me again and my ass lit up like it was being pierced by a hot poker.

The scream went on and I fell over onto my side and waited for the pain to migrate through the interior walls of flesh from my rectum to my vagina, and then fade away suddenly.

I really needed to get going. I was on the right path but was only halfway and I swear, that TENS had reached level 20 already and if it went to 40 I was going to literally be in fucking agony. I didn't want that to happen.

I struggled to my feet and stumbled ahead.

I was in the forested area now, away from the meadow, and it had gotten colder without direct sun. I stumbled on a few more feet, stopped and listened for my audio landmarks, then stumbled forward a few more feet, grateful my tits were not swinging those damn bells any more and *wham* I doubled over as my ass and vagina had hot pokers stuck up inside them.

Later when I got back to the car, eventually, I saw I had tears streaking my face and I think that was the moment when they arrived. I didn't know I was crying, but I had started right about then. I noticed I was beginning to walk with my legs spread further apart, perhaps in a useless attempt to keep the shocks from hurting as much.

I was struggling against my restraints, too, a sign I was beginning to panic. The restraints weren't going to come apart, that was certain. The shackles were steel, the collar and strap behind were thick leather.

I kept going, hoping I was on the right trail, occasionally finding something that told me I was. A low hanging tree branch, a set of roots on the path, or whatever.

The TENS shocks continued to come every two minutes, bringing me to my knees each time. I rolled on the ground, seeing if I could remove the wires, dislodge them, but no. It would be better to simply reach the key than waste the time trying to detach or remove the TENS.

And of course I was drooling profusely. I was wearing a ball gag. That's part of the point of a ball gag, they make you drool; they take away just another bit of self control you have over your body and force it so your fluid drains out of your mouth. You are sliming yourself, saliva dripping over your chin and breasts and there's nothing you can do about it. It's humiliating and an annoyance like that loomed large in my mind as I plodded along, looking around, seeing nothing but black.

It seemed like several hours later that I reached the small copse of trees the surrounded the stump. I bumped into one of them, realized what they were and moved forward. Unfortunately, the stump had moved, or at least it seemed like it to me.

The TENS hit me and I collapsed on the ground and writhed for a bit, panting. When it finished with me I moved forward and around on my knees and finally found the stump. Turning around I lay myself backward on the stump so my hands could get close to where the key was... and I found it.

My heart was racing, my legs spread wide with fear of the coming shock. The key was in my right hand, I moved over and found the hole in the cuffs of the left, inserted, turned, and click my left hand was free.

Relief flooded over me. I had made it. I was going to be all right. I was-- *WHAM* I doubled over and groaned loudly as the shock hit me deep inside, then moved seamlessly across the thin wall between my rectum and vagina.

When it was over I managed to get my right wrist free with the key, and the first thing I did was rip the tape off the TENS unit and pull the wires out. I sank down, still blind and with wrist shackles, but relieved.

Next I reached up and removed a blackout lens. My fingers were filthy and I would probably scratch my eyeball, but I didn't care. I got both of them out and looked around. The world was unusually bright, and while I recognized it, having been blind for the last hour it looked different. I flicked the used contacts into the woods, never to be used again.

I slowly pulled the wires out of my cunt, then my ass, and then unlocked the belt and dropped it on the ground. I never wanted to see it again. The leg chains came off and finally I removed the head harness and ball gag. The collar also got removed.

Sitting with my back against a tree I reached down and felt my pussy. It was soaking wet. I laughed, giggled, and said out loud to myself, "You are such a fucking pain slut..."

And I allowed myself to masturbate. Nude, there in the trees, I spread my legs wide and fingered myself to an orgasm for the first time in a week. It was fucking glorious, I came like a freight train, my whole body tensed and shaking.

My clothes were back at the tree in the backpack. I went back nude in the forest but enjoying it quite a bit this time. I almost wished I could meet some hikers, just to give them a little shock, maybe a little fun. At the tree I got dressed and then checked my watch.

I had, in fact, taken a lot longer to get back to the stump. Not 20 minutes, I estimated it had been closer to 40. So yep, I had taken TENS levels up to around 40, though I never did know exactly how high it went. Trust me, I thought someone was fucking searing my insides. And yet, through it all, my cunt had stayed wet and aroused.

It took another 30 minutes to walk back to the car. I got in and masturbated again, this time with my left hand under my shorts, legs spread wide as they would go.

I drove home. I left the nipple clamps somewhere on the trail, I never went looking for them. I have a dozen pairs and frankly anyone I play with always seems to have something to smash my poor nipples and make me cry for mercy.

My girlfriend greeted me, glad I was OK; in reality she was glad she didn't have to go hunting for me. I took her to the bedroom and we got naked together and the two of us fucked for an hour, pleasuring each other intensely. She's good at what she does and I've never been bored making love to her.

I had two more orgasms then, and I masturbated one more time before going to sleep. I went over every bit of the experience in my mind, every bit of pain, frustration, helplessness, vulnerability, despair... and I knew I would masturbate to the memories many times in the future.

Pain and Suffering

Well, that sucked.

I've been ill. Sick. Influenza. (Over the holidays).

I won't tell you everything that happened to me (even though it might actually turn some of you on), but I thought I was going to die for a while.

Nausea. Cramps. Losing control of body fluids.

It got me thinking. There have been times when I have experienced much the same sensations while in the middle of a bondage scene. Did I enjoy it? Well...kind of. I am not a pain slut, but accept extreme physical sensations as part of the bdsm submissive experience. In fact, there are types of pain that I accept and even "enjoy".

Tie me down to a table or wooden frame, force my legs apart, whip my pussy lips then push an unlubed speculum inside my pussy, spread my lips wide wide enough it hurts and then put nasty things inside me that poke and scrape, and I accept it. It brings sexual satisfaction. I am excited by it. Shock me with a parrilla and I am in heaven. (I know, I am a sick puppy).

Take me into a obgyn office, put me in stirrups and have him gently spread me open and do a careful inspection and I am unhappy, uncomfortable and want to get the hell out of there.

Pain/discomfort is incredibly situational. I know two girls that are complete masochists when it comes to bondage and sex play, so much so they come out of sessions bleeding, scarred, heavily bruised and with new and interesting holes in their body. The more the better. But that's the only situation in which they will tolerate that. Outside of that situation, they react to pain in the way most people would-- they totally avoid it.

So there I was, dealing with involuntary body fluid loss, and after it was mostly over I thought about the fact I had experienced very similar sensations and considered it exciting and enjoyable, whereas I would have done almost anything to avoid the sickness I just went through.

There's a number of things that can give one cramps during a bdsm scene. Muscle cramps, of course, can occur in almost any bondage position and can be very painful. That's part of the excitement of being tied up-- it's uncomfortable to the point of painful and once there, you just endure. There's no guarantee you are going to get your leg untied to relieve that charlie-horse.

Stomach cramps, though-- well, the most obvious way is by receiving an enema.

Enemas are weird-- they aren't actually a bondage kink, but are often practiced in conjunction with bondage. Enemas are not a big kink of mine, but they are interesting to use in combination with bondage.

I've been given enemas a number of times in my life. My first enema was one I gave myself when I was 16 using an enema bag I found in my mom's bathroom cupboard.

Yes, that is weird too-- the whole idea of my mom (or father) getting an enema. To this day I am not 100% sure it was there for medical reasons-- they might have had a bit of kink in their lives. But the idea of my mom giving herself an enema sort of made me sick (just like the idea of my dad humping my mom with her legs up high around him, fingers raking his back as he grunted away... ok I am getting weird with that image even now).

Come to think of it, my parents also had a vibrator that might have had multiple uses.

When I found this enema kit, the parents weren't supposed to be home for several hours and I was curious (some might consider me far too curious for a 16 year old girl). So I stripped naked, went to my own bathroom and filled the bag with water.

I remember clearly how aroused I was before I left the bathroom. The image of myself in the mirror, naked, with that enema bag filled up and waiting is clear in my mind even now. As a teen I had acquired a desire to try weird things, to do anything that would bring new body sensations and I had sort of fallen in love with the sexiness of my own body.

Once the bag was full I grabbed a towel and headed for my room and my bed. That was a bit dumb, I didn't think that enemas could get messy. At least I did put the towel down on my bed just in case, then lay on top of it.

The simple act of trying to insert the nozzle into my anus was a bit frustrating-- I had to reach around and push and shove, and the angle was awkward and I had to go at it from another angle and lift legs out of the way.  The nozzle was slightly larger at the end so it went in with a push and then slid another inch or so inside easily.

Once the nozzle went in, it started feeling interesting in ways I had been looking for. That was the first time I had ever inserted anything into my ass, and the sensation was novel and kind of fun. It felt just a little like going to the bathroom, but then, not really. Moving the longer nozzle around a bit produced sensations that immediately brought my other hand to my clit.

My mom's enema kit had three nozzles and I of course chose the largest and longest one (which was tiny compared to what's been in my ass in the years since). I got it all the way in, held the bag up in my left hand, and released the clip.

The water flowed in and was like, whoooooops that's a new sensation! Being a teenager used to flinging herself headlong into any new experience, I had filled the bag completely. I had no idea what a good amount would be so I just filled it all the way and let it flow in. I had to hold the bag up with one hand, but along with experiencing the sensation of water filling my bowels, my other hand was between my legs and rubbing my clit.

The combination of the two sensations was actually pretty good. Something pushed up inside my ass, water flooding my lower intestine, and my clit getting rubbed. I had an orgasm quickly, before the entire bag had emptied into my bowels.

Immediately after the orgasm there was some mild cramping. Pain. Not something I was new to (I had experienced some levels of discomfort in my self bondage), but still a unique experience. Not knowing what was normal or not with an enema and having my tummy cramping up led me to clip off the tube and run to the bathroom. There I expelled the enema (which took a lot longer than I thought it would) and felt much, much better.

I later tried using enemas as part of my self bondage experience, but that's a different story.

Last week, while recovering from waves of nausea and still experiencing stomach cramps as I waited for the next round of diarrhea, I thought about another experience I had which produced similar physical sensations as my sickness but in completely different circumstances.

Jason (the ex-husband) had loaned me to another master, a mutual friend south of where we live. He had a reputation for being complex in his rigging and ruthless in his domination. He regularly dominated one of the true masochistic women I know and the stories that came out of those sessions made me shudder. His name is Dean.

Dean made me strip formally before him and display my body. He remained clothed, which always makes me feel a bit humiliated and vulnerable, when I am naked and the guy is clothed. He inspected me, placing his hands and fingers in places designed to make me feel vulnerable and obedient. One finger went into my anus and worked in and out a bit. He inserted fingers into my mouth, and had me suck on them. He used my breasts to wipe his fingers dry.

He then "warmed me up" by tying me to a St. Andrews cross and giving me a good caning. I could just feel the competence with which he tied my wrists-- the multiple strands, the tight tie, the knot. I was going nowhere, the rope was tight and effective, the kind I dream of at night when I lay alone with my hand between my legs.

He tied my ankles as well, kicking them apart and roping them to the bottom of the cross.

The flogging consisted of several strokes of a rather thin cane, followed by his cock (which was quite hard) sliding between my legs and along my pussy crack.

"I want to feel you wet," he whispered in my ear.

I was already wet, of course, I had been wet when I walked in his door. He'd rub his cock on my pussy a few times then resume the caning.

Caning fucking hurts. It's amazing what a small little rod like that can do, especially when repeated over and over on bare skin. He had me sobbing and begging in a few minutes. Of course, I also knew that's what he likes so it was easy to let it go, let the tears come and promise to do anything for him if he'd just stop.

I knew the session with Dean was going to hurt when I first contemplated it, and my heart was pounding and my cunt slippery before I undid the first button to strip for him.

Each time he'd stop the caning to slide his cock between my pussy lips I would rub him, shifting my hips back and forth, sliding my outside pussy lips on his cock. If I got him off enough maybe he'd stop caning me. And I sort of liked the feeling of his cock between my pussy lips, and its head on my clit, and overall I would rather be getting him off than feeling the kiss of the cane.

He didn't accept this, of course, and continued caning me until my entire back and buttocks were burning like fire.

In the process of doing my best to get Dean off, I had an orgasm.

I came, a shuddering sweaty orgasm, the last time he ran his cock under my pussy. I think that's what made him stop, actually. He could tell the way I clutched his cock, rubbing frantically, and then sagged down, that I had reached a climax. (Dear lord I do love an orgasm when tied and helpless).

That's when he showed some mercy and stopped caning me.

(By the way, Dean is ugly, but has a decent body and a great cock. I know this from experience, obviously. But what keeps girls like me coming back to him is his way of bringing us to the brink of our limits, and mixing that with the pleasure we crave.)

I hung by my wrists for a little while, panting and recovering. Dean was preparing something else.

We were in his playroom; it's one bedroom of a two bedroom bungalow he owns, and has been soundproofed and the windows painted shut. His neighbors are rather close to his house.

After a few minutes of rest (hanging from my wrists), he came over and unroped my wrists from the cross. My ankles were still immobile and spread, but he let my wrists free. Standing close to the cross like that it took effort to make sure I didn't topple over. It was easier with my wrists tied.

He applied a quick and efficient crotch rope. That's just a quick double loop of rope around the waist that extends between the legs. It can be quite uncomfortable, depending on its positioning and how tight it is. He put the strands on either side of my pussy lips and cinched it pretty tight. Not terrible, but just another small bit of discomfort from being tied up.

The end that came up through my ass cheeks behind me was long and he used it to bind my wrists together. It dug a bit into my ass and after securing my wrists together he pulled the rope tighter, pulling my wrists down and closer to my ass and crotch. This caused me to lean back just a bit to relieve the strain and pressure on my cunt, which made me lose my balance because my ankles were still tied to the the base of the cross.

He caught me before I went over. The guy worked with a speed and accuracy that was amazing. I had barely been untied from the cross before her had my wrists tied behind my back and secured to the crotch rope.

A bit more attention and my breasts were tied in a harness and upper arms secured to the same harness.

This was specifically why I like going to Dean-- they guy can put me out of commission, completely helpless and vulnerable with interesting rope ties and positions, so easily. Professionally. Once I commit to a session with him, I know I am in for a ride and won't have a way out of whatever it is he wants to do. Helpless.

He undid the ropes to my ankles and quickly had them attached to ankle restraints that were already suspended from the ceiling. This was the first hint I had that I was going upside down and it made my heart pound. (Inverted suspension is not common, it takes special care and equipment and someone willing to do it). I wasn't gagged and started to whine.

"Oh, god no... Dean, please don't put me upside down. Shiiiit.... oh fuck, please, I will do anything you want."

He laughed as he helped me lay down on the floor, which I couldn't do because my wrists were tied pretty tightly behind my back, not to mention my elbows.

"Dear, you will do anything I want anyway. And you will do it with your head swinging above the ground and your legs spread wide in the air."

With that he pulled and my ankles rose into the air, my legs slowly angling up higher and higher until my ass dragged against the floor a foot and then went up as well. My shoulders remained on the floor a moment. That position isn't too bad, because the head is still close to the same elevation as the heart.

But, my ankles kept going up and my shoulders left the ground and then my head. The last bit of me to touch the floor was my pony tail, which brushed briefly before leaving the concrete floor behind.

Being upside down is very disorienting, as you might imagine. Plus, the body is not made to be upside down, all my internal organs were pushing down on my diaphragm and chest, my boobs were hanging the wrong way, and the blood was pushing on my head. Breathing is a bit different but still quite possible. It isn't painful (not at first anyway) but it isn't pleasant.

And of course, my legs were spread pretty wide, giving Dean access to my private parts, and there was nothing I could do about it except jerk around a bit.

I hung there a bit, wrists tied behind my back, breasts tied, ankles tied and pulled apart. I swung slowly, as if a light breeze were pushing me, but in reality it was just my breathing and heartbeat. I had a view of the wall across from me, but Dean wasn't within my view and I considered that I might be hanging there by myself for a while.

I tested the ropes. Yeah, I knew they were secure, but I couldn't help it. And it was part of the excitement-- struggling. Finding out I really was suspended upside down like a piece of meat, unable to move.

No worries. He didn't leave me alone long. Before a couple of minutes went by (it always seems longer when you are hanging upside down), I felt his fingers suddenly digging into my cunt. He felt around, deep inside. I could feel him going deep, fondling my cervix, pushing it around, and his thumb was on my clit. I couldn't help but moan a bit. I was already so fucking aroused from being tied up all I wanted was another orgasm.

I really seemed I might get it. He was jamming fingers deep into me, which hurt but the pain was something I was used to and associated with cumming, so I began to breath harder. The sounds I was making were the pain grunting I make when being roughly manipulated inside.

His fingers were completely wet from my cunt when he withdrew them and shoved them into my ass. A bit unexpected, but then anything he does is unexpected. I just embraced the sensation and let it happen, feeling myself coming closer to orgasm as he rammed fingers deep inside me. He keeps his nails trimmed (like a good lesbian), so he could dig around inside me, pushing and manipulating the tissues deep inside. He pushed hard enough it felt like he was manipulating both my rectum and my vagina, which was interesting, while a little painful.

He was getting my ass prepared for the next stage.

I'd been inverted about five minutes but it was already getting uncomfortable. The pressure in my head had settled in and the disorientation was difficult to deal with. I knew it was just the beginning though. Endurance. Part of what I do in bondage. Endure.

He showed me the next item I would have to deal with. The enema bag. Full. Very full. I didn't know how much but it was certain it wasn't a small one.

"Oh... fuck..." I said.

"Maybe a bit later," he said casually and inserted the nozzle into my ass. He didn't need lube, he had loosened my anus with his fingers quite effectively. It was a simple nozzle, not one of the fancy inflatables-- he didn't need those because I was upside down and it wouldn't fall out, and was thin enough I wouldn't be able to push out. And if I did, I would just be burbling my own feces all over myself, so I wasn't going to try and expel anything while upside down.

The guy knows his stuff. He's evil.

There was no preparation, no todo, no ceremony, no waiting. The nozzle went inside me, and a second later I felt the liquid flow. It went in easier than other enemas, I believe because I was inverted. My bowels filled, the water draining through my large intestine and making its way further up... or down? It felt different than other enemas going in, probably because of my inversion. I could feel it spreading, the sensation covering a larger portion of my abdomen, and moving quickly, too.

"Holy shit," I said. Or something equivalent, I don't remember exactly. I'd had plenty of enemas in my life but this was the first one inverted and it seemed to just slide in easy and smooth and fill me quickly. It wasn't painful, just very filling.

At first.

I think almost all of the liquid had gone in when the peristalsis hit. Peristalsis is the normal motion of the intestines that push matter along in the downward direction. When an enema interferes with this normal function, the intestines cramp trying to do their job. It's like bad diarrhea pain and hurts like hell.

This doesn't always happen with enemas, but it's more likely with large ones, deep ones, and ones that contain certain types of additives. I don't know exactly what Dean did but that enema went in smooth and deep, and when it was done, the cramps hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Oh... fuck... Dean... oh god... oh shit that hurts... Dean, please... no more..."

"I think now is the time for your gag," he said conversationally.

He slipped a ball gag into my mouth and buckled it tight. Ball gags don't really stop me from making a lot of noise, but they do make it harder to be understood. It's a psychological, mental plaything. It also holds the jaw open (another form of immobilization) and makes you drool, which is especially unpleasant when hanging upside down.

My wrists were already tied to the crotch rope which pulled back on my arms and shoulders. I used this to pull my shoulders and head back a bit so my face pointed down to the ground, rather than facing the wall. This was a little less nauseating and disorienting than being completely upside down, and the drool from my gag didn't run down into my nose and eyes.

I could do this for short periods at a time, but the muscle strain was too long for more than a few seconds. It also made me start to swing back and forth, which doesn't help the disorientation.

The cramps also made the nausea worse. Hanging upside down, being disoriented, and having severe stomach pain came together to make me really nauseous. I grunted and moaned and complained through my gag, and what it got me was partly good, partly bad.

"It hurts, I get that." Dean said calmly. "It's supposed to hurt, actually. That's what I do here. Make women hurt."

Yeah, I that's why I came there, too. To be hurt. But damn, this was awful.


I kept moving my head back to keep the drool from sliding up my face, and to help keep my head from being completely upside down. This caused my body to swing back and forth gently.

Dean watched me for a while as I struggled, trying to cope with the liquid flowing in, bloating my stomach. It's actually sort of humiliating to have someone give you a forced enema. I don't know how else to describe it (other than painful). Having him sit and watch me suffering from this humiliation intensified the feelings of pain and helplessness.

"Let me help you," he said after a couple of minutes. "The enema is basically in, we will let the last bits drip in but maybe we can distract you from the pain in your abdomen."

He squeezed the enema bag, forcing the last few ounces of water into my bowels, but left the nozzle in.

"We'll leave this in to help you retain the enema. Now. For your distraction."

I had been grunting and moaning and even trying to bend at my waist because of the cramping, which was really very painful; more pain than I normally get in a bondage session. I had also begun swearing at Dean, taking my frustrations and mental suffering out on him the only way I could. He ignored it, of course.

What he did do was an example of why I return to Dean, even though he can get rather intense.

A nice vibrator, right on my clit.

Oh fuck, the mixture of pain and pleasure upside down was about ready to make me explode. It didn't take long before I was shuddering with the warm glow of an orgasm at Dean's control. He didn't hold back either. He pressed that vibrator to my cunt, massaged me, slid it over my lips, and pulled that orgasm out of me.

It's an enigma, or contradiction of sorts, of how I can have such pleasure in the midst of pain and discomfort. The peristalsis had actually subsided somewhat by the time he began the vibrator, but was still there, and being upside down wasn't exactly comfortable. And yet I came like a freight train.

The only explanation I have for this is Pavlovian. I started doing self bondage in my early teens and associated it with sex play from that time. The bondage evolved and became more intense, and uncomfortable, and actually painful, and all the while it was still associated with orgasms and sexual pleasure. So... over time I have come to associate being tied up and abused with sexual pleasure and orgasms. Pain doesn't prevent me from having an orgasm, in fact it makes orgasms more intense.

It was the second orgasm of the session.

I'd been suspended upside down for about 20 minutes, maybe half an hour. But he wasn't done with me. The cramps were coming and going, at times gone. He decided to distract me from the abdominal pain with some pain elsewhere. Namely, my breasts.

It is a strange discovery but nevertheless quite true that when suffering one kind of pain, having pain applied to another area of the body, a different kind of pain, can actually lessen the first pain. It actually can help. Not a lot, because then you have to suffer the second kind of pain, and eventually you are just suffering, regardless of where.

But at least for a little while, having pain applied to my breasts, distracted me from the pain in my stomach.

Dean used a flogger to whip my breasts. A much more typical kind of pain, one I am very used to. Having my breasts whipped is not a big deal to me (any more). In fact, it acts as a great warm up to some really good orgasms. (Yes, I am a sick puppy). Nipple clamps are sort of in the same category as a breast flogging-- pain I have gotten used to and can actually enhance the physical experience of bondage related sex.

Dean gave my tits a good flogging. Don't get me wrong, it hurt. It also distracted from the cramping, though that was very sporadic. Sometimes I was just suffering from the breast flogging. The breast pain also did a fantastic job of distracting me from the nausea.

I have no idea how far the enema had trickled inside me, but I did know it had made its way deep inside. Further than any enema I had experienced.

I couldn't help it, I reacted to every strike of the flogger, tensing my muscles, jerking. That didn't help the enema cramps much, and eventually I was exhausted. Simply exhausted. The different kinds of pain, the orgasm, the jerking and struggling, it all produced a sense of complete exhaustion, mentally and physically.

Yes, I can be broken. Give me enough torture and helplessness and humiliation and pain and pleasure and orgasms, I am reduced into a wobbling bit of jelly that has stopped thinking, and just reacts. Just obeys. Just endures.

I had reached that state, and Dean could see it. I was crying, but not hard. Just tears mixing with the snot and drool dripping down (or up) my face.

Dean stopped whipping me and said, "Give me another few orgasms."

I didn't argue. I just hung there. The bloat and cramping in my stomach was just part of life, to be endured. I waited as he took the vibrator and hung it from above, and pushed it into my cunt, where it stayed on the highest setting.

I only had one more orgasm before he had mercy. It had taken me another ten minutes under the unrelenting stimulation of the vibrator for me to cum, I was too exhausted and in too much pain, too disoriented.

He let me down. Lowering me slowly onto the concrete floor of his playroom, my head touched first, then my shoulders, then back, then ass. As soon as my shoulders touched I felt the blood begin to flow in better directions, my head felt better, and as I descended my entire body and well being began to feel better.

Except for the cramps, which renewed as soon as he lifted me up into a standing position and held me there. I was dizzy, very dizzy, unable to stand on my own. And I needed to expel that enema, really, really badly. It hit me as soon as I stood, just how badly I needed to go. A bit leaked past the nozzle that was still inside me, now that gravity was helping my bowels. (This is an example of why Dean doesn't have carpeting. A large part of his playroom is actually covered with rubber floor matting.)

He guided me to a bucket and helped me squat over it.

I didn't have to ask; as soon as the plug was removed the enema flooded out in one huge squirt. It was such a relief to get out, I didn't even think about the humiliation of being made to poop diarrhea into a bucket in front of a man. The initial squirt lasted a few seconds and provided immediate relief, but it wasn't all. A few seconds another squirt came out. And then another. And another.

After ten minutes or so the amount of squirting had subsided to an occasional trickle. The embarrassment of what was going on hit me then. I was sitting on a bucket, naked, while Dean observed me pooping into it, performing a body function.

Ah well, this is the life I have chosen. Or perhaps, the life that chose me.


I hadn't gotten any more of the enema out of me for a few minutes when Dean suggested I go ahead and dump the bucket in the toilet. I was still gagged and had my arms tied behind my back, but I stood and carried it into the bathroom, managed to dump it and flush.

That was another humiliation; having to clean up my own mess that happened as a result of his torturing me.

But I did it. And then came back out and sat on the same bucket for another half an hour because I kept leaking. The inverted enema had pushed so far up into my bowels it was taking a long time to come out.

When I finally felt well enough to go home, Dean made a small suggestion, sort of the last bit of humiliation.

"You may continue to leak a bit for up to a day, given the amount of liquid and how deep it went. I suggest you wear a butt plug until tomorrow morning."

He pulled out a nice, clean, stainless steel ass plug for me and watched as I inserted it before getting dressed.

"No worries. You can return it the next time you drop by for a session."

I kissed him before climbing into my car. He hadn't fucked me at all during the session, though I was certain he'd masturbate to thoughts of it later.

I did too.