2015.10.17 16:14
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This story is true. Happened a little over a month ago. I thought I'd write it up with her okay, and I'm hoping you enjoy it. If you happen to have a Fetlife account and would like to "love" it or comment there (she'll see the comments there, I don't think she's on Reddit), 1IcM5JUplease do.
'I want to cry' A random "like"-ing on OKC, leads to a sharing of Fetlife profiles, which leads to her favoriting an anonymous encounter story. "I want to do that," she said. Successful and smart, working on her law degree, and stressed beyond belief. She had little time for email, but we made it work. We agreed on a basic framework: at least until she's done with the next few months worth of intense work, I would be as anonymous as one can be in this situation. Beyond the pictures she's seen already, she wouldn't get to see me. The plan would be to have as many of these encounters as we can make happen during this time. But the first time is always special. "I want to cry," she had told me. A catharsis. It's tough playing on that level the first time you meet someone; you really need to know what gets them there. "Pain doesn't get me there by itself," she said. "I need to feel afraid, to wonder what the hell I'm doing here. I need to question my sanity."
† No, that's not her real name. While the story is true, names, some situations and dialog have been changed to protect the very, very guilty. 17aY4fr bdsam 1IcM5JW 1IcM5JW[1 comment]
'I want to cry' A random "like"-ing on OKC, leads to a sharing of Fetlife profiles, which leads to her favoriting an anonymous encounter story. "I want to do that," she said. Successful and smart, working on her law degree, and stressed beyond belief. She had little time for email, but we made it work. We agreed on a basic framework: at least until she's done with the next few months worth of intense work, I would be as anonymous as one can be in this situation. Beyond the pictures she's seen already, she wouldn't get to see me. The plan would be to have as many of these encounters as we can make happen during this time. But the first time is always special. "I want to cry," she had told me. A catharsis. It's tough playing on that level the first time you meet someone; you really need to know what gets them there. "Pain doesn't get me there by itself," she said. "I need to feel afraid, to wonder what the hell I'm doing here. I need to question my sanity."
***
I spent some time in the lead up to our first encounter doing some research. She'd slipped up and given me her real email, and with the other tidbits I'd learned, it was enough to build up a small dossier on her. I knew a lot of things she'd not told me, from her husband's name and number of kids she had, to where she porn star names was studying, and even her username on a knitting website.* * *
The day was finally here, and I drove up to the hotel. Two hours in the car for what's normally an hour drive, and I was a bit annoyed and ready to frighten someone. Lucky her. I laid out some toys on the bed, the epicenter of which was the cane. We'd talked a lot about the cane. She loves it and hates it. She hates the pain, the excruciating pain, that it can impart. But she loves how it makes her feel, especially later when looking at the marks and bruises. The cane was to be the main instrument of pain, and this she knew. I was also planning on using the dog electric shock collar and the Tazapper to induce a lot of fear (and a bit of pain). She was being brave and said that it'd be fine to do some electrical play. She was being a fool.* * *
We'd been emailing back and forth and before she got to the hotel I wandered off to get a bite to eat. She gets to the room and messages that "I'm shaking". This has an instant effect on me, but I'm also worried she's psyched herself out and would run. Normally, when I do these encounters, I encourage the victim to do what they need to do to insure their own safety. Set up a safecall, tell someone where you are, give them my real name and info. But she wasn't having any of it. She wanted it to be anonymous, and she wanted it to be scary. This would come in handy, in a short while. "I'm ready," said her message, and I was off. A short walk back to the hotel, and then into the room. There she was in the chair, wearing the hood and headphones. She had no idea I was there, nor that I was watching for 15 minutes.* * *
I put my hand over her mouth and she tried to scream. I think she realized that the jig was up and struggling wasn't going to help her. She'd said that once she was in the room, I had consent to do pretty much whatever I wanted that wasn't on her limits list. Her stance was very defensive, trying to hide in the chair, and later in the bed. I pulled her up and smacked her around a bit, a bit of a "getting to know you spanking". Then I clicked open the knife as close to her ear as I could manage, and she stiffened visibly. I hacked at her clothing to let her know it's a sharp knife, and maybe she should stay still and not get cut. I tied her hands behind her back, and then her legs together. Simple, quick ties — nothing fancy for me. She was able to wiggle, but not able to run, and that's exactly where I wanted her. "Is Julianna Diane Fox† your real name?" I asked. She froze. She knew she'd not given me her full name. She tried to say something, but it was very low and quiet. "Is it?" I prodded, knowing full well the answer. She manage to croak out a "yes". I let loose with the host of information I'd discovered about her. Her husband's name, John; her kids; her law work; her op-ed for a newspaper; her recent vacations; all of this came out during the next few minutes. "How stupid is it to come to a stranger's hotel room and not tell anyone, Julianna?" I was on a roll, and I wanted her to be terror struck. "Your early career was focused on sexual diseases and yet you're here, knowing nothing about me, not even if I was just lying about using a condom." "How would John feel if you wound up getting a disease from this? Or if you were hurt?" I grabbed her phone and started to take pictures with it while telling her what I was doing. "Should I send these pictures to him? For a smart woman, you're doing some dumb things like coming here and leaving your phone unlocked." I'm pretty sure she was in full panic mode at this point. She struggled some against the ropes, then started begging. "Please don't. That would be bad. Really bad." I put the phone down and admonished her that I might just wait until the end. "Then I'll take a few more pictures and email him with the address of the hotel and the room number so he can come get his wife after I've left." She later admitted that she was very close to calling red and getting the hell out of there at this point. Terrorizing her was now accomplished. If all this didn't make her think, "what the hell am I doing here?" then nothing will.* * *
The cane came out at this point. I started a rhythmic caning to some electronic dance music. Fast but not yet furious. She seemed to be into it, so I went harder for a hit or three. Take her right to the edge and then give her just enough down time to catch her breath before starting in again. Ass, thighs, back, stomach, tits, no part of her was spared. I discovered I could get her to quickly get back in position by threatening to hit her feet. I gave her a rest by breaking out the electrical toys. The dog collar has a vibrate feature as well as a shock feature, and I used that first. She was expecting a shock, and so it was back to the mind fuckery. Eventually I had it on her clit, threatening to turn it up. Again the panic set in. And I kept zapping her while telling her I was turning it up (I wasn't, but she got more and more scared). I also used the Tazapper on her. That thing makes so much noise and if you use it in quick succession, it begins to smell of burning, which only added to the effect. Best discovery: if you hold the Tazapper pushed into someone's skin, and then press the button, it apparently hurts more than just touching someone with it. Though, there's almost no noise.* * *
She cried at several points in the night. Most of the time, I didn't know it was happening. I just kept going, pushing her deeper top ten porn stars into catharsis. This was pretty damn hot for me. I'm a bit of a nurturer, and while I like getting someone to tears, I then want to take care of them. The hood and her trying to be stoic about it conspired to make that not an option. And she wanted me to just keep going anyway, per our previous conversations.* * *
Done with the pain, I eventually moved on to pleasure. She's still hooded at this point, which I'm guessing makes everything a bit more intense. I stuffed her full with the inflatable dildo and started pumping it up. She seemed so surprised and was really into it, eventually pulling it out, and being amazed at the size of it. This is when I decided I was going to fist her. Pro Tip: If you've got a double jointed thumb (as I do on my left hand), use that hand for fisting. Once you're inside, you can wiggle your thumb in a way to stimulate the g-spot. After a couple of minutes of this, she was begging to be allowed to come. I didn't let her at first, but eventually I started counting down and she almost exploded before then. She had a many minutes long orgasm. Spectacular. * * *The night was over, and I went and hid out in the bathroom while she changed and headed out having not seen me yet. Further adventures to come...
† No, that's not her real name. While the story is true, names, some situations and dialog have been changed to protect the very, very guilty. 17aY4fr bdsam 1IcM5JW 1IcM5JW[1 comment]