Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Cry

This is the second installment after "The Ladder" when reddywhp and I had some good fun with each other and got to know each other, and this is the other half of the scene. He also has written about this part of the scene, but we're doing an experiment to figure out how each of us experienced it. His side of the story is here. Let's pick up where we just left off:

"How are you doing," he asks.
"Great. It's a bit tough," I laugh.
"Good. You want to do something else?"
"Sure."
"I'm not going to be any easier..."
"That's fine."
"I want to see what you can take."

We moved to the living room rug. He kept the harness of rope on and tied my hands with the ad hoc rope wrist restraints together behind my back. He said, "Just drop," kicked the back of my knee, and I just fell with it, comfortably landing on the rug facedown. He ravenously picks up my legs and tie them to the wrist restraints, à la hog tie. He sets me on my right side and then lays next to me and toys with my cock a bit, and hits my balls a couple of times. He says, "Okay, I'm going to see how much your balls can take. I want you to look into my eyes and focus on me. Deep breaths. When it becomes too much, say 'no' or 'stop,' but I really want it to be too much, because I'm just going to stop when we're done." I take this as a challenge to prove to Sir that I can do this for him. He starts, with his thumbs and index fingers clutched around my sack and grabs them. He gets them first asymmetrically and puts excessive pressure on my right ball. He realizes this and tells me, "It's easier if there is equal pressure on the two balls. You can take a lot more that way. Tell me if one gets more pressure than the other. I nodded and we continued.

I, laying there, just stared into his eyes, ready for this to start. It begins a level of pleasure, and I'm telling myself I can do this. And then he starts to increase the pressure. Slowly it becomes intense. He's looking at my facial expressions, reading my discomfort in pain, as I lay there breathing in and out, staring back at him. I feel like he's looking into me, not at me. I'm completely open, and he can read me. My breathing gets interrupted; he prompts me to continue to breath in and out, deeply. We move further and further. The pain becomes great. I can barely take it except for his encouraging eyes, my will, and a voice that says "you can do this." It continues to escalate, and I feel my eyes start to well up.

My eyes are welling up, I thought in glee. I have always wanted this moment. My first s&m cry is coming. Holy shit. It's happening. And I'm sharing it with him. When I feel this, the balls cease to be my primary concern. The tears come, and I'm so in awe that I'm here. He asks, "Are you good? Should I stop." My primary thought was "FUCK NO! I WANT THIS!" but all I can say is authoritatively, "More." I wanted him to know I was so happy at this point, in this point of torture, but I could only muster that much out. This needed to continue. He acknowledges my request and we continue. My tears accumulate and start flowing down my face. I'm still breathing deeply and rhythmically, staring back into his eyes. Time moves on, and he applies more pressure slowly as tears stream down my face.

I'm broken at this point. Fully at his mercy, I have completely let go of any worries and ideals. I am trying to keep my mind off my balls, off my tears and only on keeping it on my breathing and on his eyes. I can't tell if I am doing 'well', if this is 'normal', if this is 'poor', if this is a 'good job', but I don't really care at this point. I am doing my best right now, and am at my limits, and breaking many limits that existed before. This was the new edge.

The pressure was going further than excruciating. I could feel myself wanting to scream "stop" but I wanted to hang in to the last second that I could, and then wait five more. I was living for each second, each series of inhaling and exhaling in this agony. And then I felt something move on my balls and I immediately screamed "Stop!" as he virtually simultaneously lifted his hands off of my balls.

I started to breath faster and sob. He had broken me, and it was such a good feeling. It's really what this is about. He rolled me into him, and held me. He wanted to make sure I was okay. He told me I did a good job, that I did well. I felt proud of myself. I could feel my heart burst with the pride that he had given me. He started to untie me, and I bemoaned the fact that I was getting my freedom back. I told him "Thank you" and he told me he enjoyed himself. I told him that it was my first cry and I wasn't going to forget this any time soon. He replied, I don't think you forget your first cry, and I agreed. I joked "Well you definitely achieved your goal-- I want to play again with you." He smiled, and I kissed him.

He starts to change while we are talking and I get a glimpse of bare ass, and then push him onto the bed and rim him a bit just for fun's sake. He has a beautiful ass and I wanted some of it for a bit, after being in such a restrictive position to not be able to get to it. We decided that we needed to go, and then heard someone knock on the door to the cabin when we were getting ready, so we got dressed and went to greet them.

Until next time, I wish you

Fisting, fireplay and facefucking,
Bo

Thursday, August 19, 2010

The Ladder

Two weekends ago, I went to a gear weekend with some fellow gearheads and kinksters. We rented out a cabin, chalet and former bed and breakfast in Western Pennsylvania to have complete privacy to do what we felt. It was a lot of fun. I only knew about five of the guys at the beginning and then I met the rest and really got along with them all. There's usually a connection that's immediately found between two people that have kink inclinations, and that really makes closeness come more naturally. Despite the open and clear motives that such a weekend entails, I still find it somewhat difficult to initiate things, but I got a sufficient amount of play done. This post will entail the most powerful scene that I had that weekend. I am not going to stylize the encounter to sound hot, but tell it as best my memory can. I find the realness of what happens in a scene much more important.

Well, we'll start by setting where the connection laid. reddywhp and I met Friday night when he came while everyone was relaxing at the end of the night somewhat tipsy. He was in work clothes, not my style, so I really didn't pay much attention except for that he was a geniunely nice guy. (I was, at that point, sitting to another guy that currently had my attention) At breakfast the next day I see him and we start horsing around a bit and he just starts to crush my nipples while we're next to each other on the couch. I start to see our chemistry. He's a bigger guy, which makes it nice to be held close. He is strong, so I can try to resist, but it frankly won't last in the long run. This is nice. At any rate, we start to make out and really explore each other, and I get on top and try to get to his cock, as a curiosity of what's there more than anything else. I try to put my hand down his pants to his chuckling "it'll take more than that." He had a wrestling singlet on under his polo and cargo shorts. I take the polo off and he has beautiful hair.


(Aforementioned singlet on aforementioned reddywhp, from his flickr)

I play with that a bit as we chat, talk about what both of us like, chat about limits, and learn more about each other both kinkwise and platonically. I move the singlet down and slowly move to take the cargo shorts and singlet both down, and what do I find:



A CB-2000 with 6000 rings, with a 2-gauge captive segment ring PA (and yes, that is the penis I am talking about). I'm immediately excited, as I toy with him, playing with the PA, and he moans in delight. He starts dripping after being in it for a respectable four days. We continue to fluctuate from talking and making out, while others plan the day. We then join the crowd as we go to see one of the "wineries" in Western Pennsylvania. I learn more about the crowd as well as him throughout the trip. He's well-experienced, and prefers to bottom, but is a "top by default" a lot of the time.

We get back from the winery and decide to play. I put my (newly patched) catsuit on and boots, and then we decide to go to the back cabin for some privacy. We walk up there, and chat about what we're going to do. He asks what my limits are and I go off talking about all the things that I'm not willing to try at this point (he had alluded to doing play piercing in the car) as well as the unsafe things. He calmly said "I plan on using rope and any pain will be inflicted via my hands. That good?" I nodded, and ask, "Do we need a safe word, or what you want to do"? He claims, "safe words have places, but they're sometimes crutches. Let's stick with 'No' and 'Stop' for now. If I hear either of those I'll stop and check in with you." He continued, "The purpose is to have fun, and for you to play with me again. Deal?" I agreed, pleased, and we continued our walk in the blazing sun, the black rubber on my arms soaking in the sun and making my flesh feel singed.

We get up to the cabin--locked, but we break in to our own cabin via a credit card (such great security, we joked). And he sits me down as we take off the street clothes I had on. He gets down to his singlet and then goes to get his rope. He had yellow rope that was organized into different lengths. He started by restraining my arms behind me and this was a bit uncomfortable. He takes a break to unzip the front of my catsuit to expose my cock and balls. Proceeding, he started with another length of rope to then to start a body harness and then tied it from my head down to my cock and balls, anchoring it behind my back. He then asked me how it felt. He saw hesitation when I mentioned, "well I can't move," and asked "what's wrong?" I felt numbness in my left index finger. He said it was an aggressive try and untied the arm binders. He wanted me to be comfortable, and wanted something that could last. We joked a bit about something that might be necessary "what's the word...starts with a 'c'... ah yes, Circulation"!

We can't retie in the same pose without making my arm go numb, so we move to the ladder of the loft in the cabin. We have a bit of trouble to find the right hand restraints until he nonchalantly makes ad-hoc wrist restraints out of the rope with ease, tantamount to leather or rubber wrist restraints. I compliment him on his repertoire, and he smiles. He then tethers my arms to the ladder, and then stops. He looks me in the eyes and asks "Will you be okay with a collar? I will make it like the wrist restraints so that it won't slip." I keep eye contact and say, "Yes." I trusted him. Fully. He unravels a new length around my neck three times, starts to finish the tie, and then tethers it to a rung of the ladder. I pull forward with my neck, and it slips and I lose a bit of circulation and calmly say, "uh... it's slipping." He replies, "Um, I see that! I obviously tied it wrong." He then releases me from the collar and retries, and gets it on the second securing. He makes me chase his lips for a kiss, as I wrestle against the new restraint, and he coyly keeps out of reach as I yearn for his lips. He then obliges for a while as he moves his hands up and down my rubbery exterior. He then gets a yellow shoelace out, and ties it around my cock, and then continues to use another around my balls; it has a slip in it. It proceeds to start to pinch my scrotum, and I tell him, and he addresses it, saying "that's not exactly the trial I'm going for." He then ties the loose end to a rung where I have to crouch to maintain just moderate ball pain.

He steps back and asks, "Should I change into rubber?" I smile and nod, and he retires into his room to change, requesting me to yell if anything happens. I wriggle in the roped rubber and see no way to get out. I toy with the wrist restraints, unable to untie them in my current position. I'm stuck, writhing between keeping my knees somewhat bent to abate the ball pain, and bearing the brunt of the ball pain for some leg relief. He gets back in full transparent rubber with attached hood. The front is unzipped, with his CB-2000 protruding outward. I smile and we continue where we last left off. He takes a new length, further restraining me via attaching my boots to the bottom of the ladder. He then proceeds to secure his balls into the same slip with a third shoelace, and then unties my ball restraint to tie the loose ends of each of the ball tetherings together. We look at each other knowing whatever one of us feels, the other will too. He proceeds to kiss me and then step backwards, and as he moves back, my torso stretches to the furthest the rope would allow, to alleviate the inevitable stretch. My futile attempt does not work

He notices my futile attempt, and pulls back further, smiling. He holds it for a while, as we maintain an open-wire communication via our eyes. We see what one another is thinking, and we're connected, not just via our scrotums, but almost as one full body. I feel through him: his movements, his ideas, his actions, his body parts. He has me. We reverberate--as one of us moves, the other reacts. This intensity is maintained, only released when he comes in to kiss me. I can see the sweat accumulating in his rubber, and the way it interacts with his hair. But I am focused on three things: his kiss, our balls, and us. We continue this for a while, and then we start to talk again.

"How are you doing," he asks.
"Great. It's a bit tough," I laugh.
"Good. You want to do something else?"
"Sure."
"I'm not going to be any easier..."
"That's fine."
"I want to see what you can take."

... and that's enough for now. Until next time... I wish you:

ball stretching, buttplay and boys,
Bo

Friday, August 13, 2010

Prehension and Sleepsacks

First off, I think people know that I over-analyze a lot of things, and this is going to one of those points where I am over-analyzing to a point that people may start to disagree with what I have to say.

I have as of late become engrossed by sleepsacks, and have been thinking about them for long periods of time. And I think they have let me understand a lot more about kink than what I used to understand about the process and journey itself. I was at a gear weekend this last weekend (more about that at a later date, I will probably start posting my IML memoir in segments and then the gear weekend in segments as well, though the chronology will be a bit askew).

At any rate, this is in part a reflection after watching a prolonged scene itself, and seeing what I could see when I was looking at it objectively and not directly involved. I want to first give two observations/viewpoints that I feel underscore how I understand kink for myself. Each person responds to it in a different way, but this is the lens under which I view kink. Sex is a conversation between persons, and kink is an alternate type of conversation where two people may converse to understand one another in a new way. It’s more carnal and it can lead to learning about each other in a different level of one another’s psyche. Also, I feel like a Bottom can understand himself better via this category of conversation. Your conscience can prehend (in the words of Whitehead) with the more intimate parts of one’s mind via kink. I feel like sleepsacks are the first gear piece that have found me understanding how prehension works in kink, as one flows between understanding what is going on consciously and subconsciously via the sensory deprivations.



This picture is of therubberfreak, the first person I met at IML (actually met him on the Blue Line when he was part of a trio I asked for directions to the host hotel).

The gear itself promotes aesthetic objectification. It makes the body uniform and symmetric. Both of these characteristics are hardwired, abstract ideals in our minds. The hand placement forces the body to admit a level of posture, and while the Bottom struggles, the only muscles that can break the symmetry are the obliques, a muscle that cannot maintain that broken symmetry for long. When one laces the sleepsack, it adds more symmetry and then thins the body, giving another level of ideals approached, one then laces diagonally the rope upon the abdomen, making an abstract definition of a roped six-pack. Then this in turn makes the pecs protrude. I find it interesting and beautiful how the lacing of a sleepsack unintentionally adds these extra dimensions to the body.

Next a gas mask or an appropriate hood leads to a new level of symmetry by symmetrizing the head, while serving to objectify the Bottom, both in the Top’s and Bottom’s perspective. With this level of sensory deprivation and new mindset, the Bottom can now observe, feel and interact with stimuli and the world in a new headspace.

Let me explain what I feel that a Bottom feels in a sleepsack (in this case, I’d like to assume that the Bottom is sensory deprived as before). I feel one of the strongest points of BDSM immobilization and sensory deprivation is the fact that it allows, with other pieces of gear, to go into a state of isolation, and project oneself down into a level of impersonal trials and stimuli that the Top engages, while still keeping a conversation between the persons. There’s a loss of history, one’s headspace goes to the moment, and one can transcend further into one’s inner id. By keeping focus, I feel one can get to a new level for stimuli, whether it’s a new type of interaction, higher level of pain or stronger reaction to stimuli. This is where the prehension can be reached, and there’s a certain level of beauty attached to it all.