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Sensory Scene

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I am pretty excited as I had not expected a scene today but Sir told me an hour ago that he wanted me to be ready. Having prepared myself, I enter the room.  He holds me for a while and tells me that he loves me and that he is going to abuse me a little. He turns me around to face the full length mirrored wardrobe doors and strokes me. I am looking at his face but he tells me to look at my body while he touches me and tells me how much he likes it. He tells me how hard I make him and already I am leaving myself behind and relaxing into just being his. He has set up the play bench and he instructs me to sit down on it and then he places a blindfold across my eyes. He tells me to lie down on my back and he lifts my legs up and bends them at the knee and opens them so that I am exposed to him. Next he reminds me of my safe-words, places a set of headphones on my ears and soon all that I hear is the sound of Morcheeba. 

Already I can feel my heat rising.  The lack of sight and my inability to hear anything beyond the music heightens everything and time starts to slow down.  His footsteps cause the floor to vibrate so I am aware of him moving around but not what he is doing.  He returns and places a strap across my stomach so that I am secured to the bench and cannot move.  Next he places a cuff around each wrist and attaches them to the band around my middle so that my arms are now also bound and immobile. I am relaxed but strain against my bonds just to see, and when I realise that I can’t move at all the excitement rises a bit further.  I can feel myself getting wet and am thinking about that and wondering what he is going to do next when I feel something touch my nipple.

It is the lightest stroke and although it moves over my skin it is hardly there at all. It grazes my skin and caresses me and, as he increases from one strand to more, I realise it is a little flogger which is being trailed across my body. The motion is very gentle and tender and I feel like I am being kissed by the suede falls. He increases the pressure a little and I feel light slaps teasing my skin as he sweeps it over me and then flicks it.  I moan slightly as he moves lower and hits between my open legs. I want him so badly and this is only the start. I want to say that I want him to keep touching me there and to do it harder but I know not to speak. He moves between stroking my skin with it and hitting my nipples and clit and I become lost. Then he stops.

I begin to drift back to myself and notice the music again when I feel something else sweep across me. I recognise the silk scarf that he uses sometimes. He circles it over me in sweeping motions which drive me crazy. I am not sure how it works but I think maybe it creates static as it goes and it wakens up the tiny hairs as it leaves them in its wake. It is cool and warm at the same time and it is gone before I can locate where it is. He moves it all over me and touches me intermittently with his fingers as well. It is delicious and tormenting and again I want to cry out that I need something harder but I have to go with it as I am washed by the sensation he causes. I think for a moment that my prayers have been answered as I feel him push something onto my clit and I feel the pressure.

I realise what it is as the coldness of a chain makes its way across my stomach and a clamp is attached slowly and carefully to each nipple. At first the pinch is satisfying but soon it turn the ache to a need that is rooted really deep. I feel as if I am on fire and I am desperate for him to touch me properly. Next I feel a tiny blast of cold on my mouth and then my neck. This continues at seemingly random points across my body with the focus again on my nipples. It moves to between my legs and back and I can’t work out what it is. I push into it and am hit by an overwhelming need to have something inside me.  I want to be full, to be consumed.  I want to be taken harshly and hard and I offer my body to him with every touch.

I am disorientated and confused as I respond to him and to what he is doing. I have lost all control and am driven by a need that I am unable articulate. I can’t think straight anymore and am lost in the sensations and the urgency for more. For more pleasure and pain and heat and cold and for him. I crave him and my head is full of him and the sensation and the surrender and there is no focus beyond that. It all becomes disjointed as I give in to it. I cry out as the cold blast of air is replaced by the heat of his mouth. I am aware that I am moaning and making a noise but I can’t hear myself over the music in my ears and as something cold is pressed against my arsehole I think I am going to explode.

He removes the clamps and sucks my clit and I know that I am really close.  He continues with the pressure of what I think is one of our glass dildos and slips it inside me.  I know that I can’t hold on for much longer and I can’t hear him so I don’t ask for permission.  I know that he will know from reading my body and his pace doesn’t slow as he continues to flick his tongue across my clit and work the dildo in and out of me.  I lose all sense of everything as I come and it feels like it lasts forever.  I am still quivering and shaking when I feel his mouth on mine and he kisses me.  I am desperate for him and moan just at his simple kiss. He moves away and I search for him and I feel the headphones being removed from my ears. Next he takes my blindfold off and I struggle to regain not only my sight but also the sense of where I am.

He tells me that he wants to see my face and to look at me properly.  The sound of his voice does something to me and I want to cling onto him but my arms are still bound and I am still immobile.  He moves back to the bottom of the bench and I hear the buzz of the wand. I whimper a little and he tells me that I knew he wasn’t done with me yet. He says that it feels so good to control my body and that he isn’t nearly finished enjoying me. He states that he will continue taking orgasms from me until he decides that it is time and then he will come in my mouth. And so the scene continues, moving beyond sensory play and into another space and time where I am no longer able to write in a coherent way about what he does or what I think or feel.

 

 

 

 

 

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