Bang my drum slowly. Not that slowly.

He came with gifts, a bottle of whiskey and a little drum. I forget what it's called. It's like a bongo, but not. I started to get the ice and the glasses for our drinks and felt his hands wrap around my waist from behind. I put the glasses down, turned around and said, "You know what, these can wait." He bent down to kiss me and I lifted up on my toes to kiss back. He slipped his hand inside my robe and sighed. I took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

He immediately grabbed the side of my head and pulled me into a kiss. Well, not so much a kiss as a cross between a bite and a vacuum cleaner. Sometimes kisses are just not meant to be sweet. I twisted my head trying to follow his lead, but I didn't know where he was going. He shifted me around like he was trying to find the best part. As if he couldn't decide where to start. He settled on my shoulder and bit down and sucked up at the same time until I had to pull away, dragging him down with me. 

He pushes me down on the bed and has that crazy fuck-eyed look men get when they know they're going to tear you apart. He fucks like he's been in prison for the past 10 years, everytime. I lift my legs over my shoulders until my feet are resting against the wall behind me and he pushes down on to my arms until I'm afraid they might break. He's going so deep and so hard and so fast, I go into that zone where my whole body becomes my cunt. My brain's my cunt. My nervous system is my cunt. There's nothing to me, but this hole between my legs and I think to myself, "That's about right."

He wraps his hands around my throat and I'm silent and still until he lets go again and I gasp for air. He bites into my shoulder, the left side this time and it hurts so bad, but I want the remaining ache that will last for days after. He turns me over on my side and smacks my ass, not long enough, but I can let that go for now. He rolls me over on top of him and I straddle him, rocking back and forth on his cock. I grip his pecs for leverage and lean down. I sink my teeth into his chest, just above the right nipple. He keeps saying harder and harder and harder and I can't believe what I'm doing, but he's sighing and laughing. I wonder if I could break the skin and what it would taste like if I did. When I let go I see the deep red perforations and I immediately smack it a few times. I lick it and smack it some more to make sure it sticks.

Afterwards, we sat on the disaster area which had once been on my bed and we took turns beating on my new drum. 

Baby Steps

I walked into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, fresh the shower after a rigorous morning fuck. He lay on the bed half dressed. "I noticed the handcuffs on the dresser over there."

"Oh yeah. Let me show you. I love these." I pulled out my Darbies and showed them how they worked. They are suprisingly soft feeling for such hard metal. I put them on myself first and we joked at how long it seemed to take and how did British cops do this quickly. I put them on him next. Ben (formerly known as S.) has small wrists. They looked good on him. I set the key on the dresser and slapped his thigh.

"Have fun. I'm getting dressed."

When I came back to the bedroom, he was still lying there and asked what other things I had. I opened up the bottom drawer and pulled out the various toys in my meager collection: the spreader bars, the various vibes, the blindfolds and the floggers. I looked at the strap-on harness and smiled. Not yet, I thought. He looked a little surprised, but pleased.

"What about those corsettes you mentioned?" I pulled them out and he helped me put one on. He took his time, determined to do it right, pulling tightly on the laces.

"Yeah, nice results," he said. I smiled back, shaking my ass, at him. It's been a while since I've had a corset on. I rubbed my hands over the fabric, feeling the stiffness, the structure. I miss it.

I'm seeing the signs. Last night, as I sucked his cock he started biting my ass. He's sucking my tits a bit harder, mauling them not just caressing him. He grabs my head, forcing me on to his cock, pushing my head down. He jacks himself off while I suck him, my head trying to follow his hand, his fist hitting my mouth over and over while I struggle to keep his cock in me.

Last night, while he was fucking me, pounding against my cervix he slapped my face, "Yeah!" I whispered and he slapped me again. "You fucking bitch. Your pussy's so fucking wet," he whispered so low I could barely hear him. I felt his hand wrap around my neck. He tightened his grip while he swiveled his hips, his cock exploring my crevices. I put my hands on the side of his face, running my fingers over his lips. Then he took my hand and placed it on his neck. I gripped tighter. Suddenly, he flipped me over and I sat down on his cock, riding him. He brought my hands back to his neck and I squeezed.

The room was pitch black. I could barely see his face, I gripped his throat and suddenly I panicked. "Am I doing this right?" I kept wanting to slip off of him, run to my computer and read up on the proper way to strangle someone. I've been the recipient in breath play, I've been to workshops, but I never actually did it to another person. I moved my hands off of his neck and placed them over his mouth and nose. I was a lot more comfortable with this since I couldn't accidently damage his windpipe. He moved my hands back to his neck and I thought back to all of those classes. "Where's that carotid artery, again? I know I have a flyer on this somewhere!" The subject became moot when he flipped me over, my legs thrown over his shoulders and fucked me stupid yet again.