In His Hands The Vibe Was Intensity Personified

His gentle request to have my head in his lap contrasted sharply with his plans for the rubber band. Have I mentioned how much I hate rubber bands?

I was supposed to do the evil work of flicking it onto my tummy. Depending on how that went I would then flick my nipples with it. "I bet I can do it real soft, like." Depending on how that went I would then flick my clit. "No fucking way!"

I fucking hate rubber bands and the evil little welts they raise. There is nothing at all pleasurable about them. My complaints about how tender my tummy was encouraged him to evolve his idea, so he first targeted my thigh with that tiny rubber band. Plink. I howled in bratty delight, but I'd hardly felt it. (The mind fuck made me squeal though.) When he asked for feedback I had to rate the sensation at 1 or 2 out of 10, which was almost nothing. Plink! He targeted my tummy and I squealed again with the mind-fuck. He did it harder and asked for more feedback, but I was feeling bratty and I refused to give it to him.

He kept going on my stomach harder and harder until my brat was raging. "Fuck you, fucker!" I suspect that if I hadn't released my emotions verbally they would have come out physically. But physically I complied; I gave him access to whatever he wanted. Articulating what I wanted to do seemed to help me not do it. It also helped that he knew exactly where I was at: whenever I wanted to grab at him he told me to leave my hands exactly where they were.

My nipple was next. Plink! "Ow!" The mind-fuck had transitioned into real sensation. This was hitting a 7, and it hurt. Being kind and considerate he made sure to even it out, so did the other nipple too. Plink! "Fucking ow!" The zing stayed in my nipple for a good few seconds afterwards.

This was just a taster for a new sensation in our play, but the orgasms that followed were the result of him having gotten me so riled. The mini Fairy Wand was anaemic in my hands, but when he took over it was intensity personified. Squirting was not optional: it was mandatory, along with a series of rolling, brain-squashing orgasms. Then he stopped.

"May I please have some more orgasms?"

"If you take five hard pussy slaps."

"No."

"OK."

There was silence as he lay there for a few seconds.

"No, you will get the five pussy slaps anyway."

"Oh fuck."

"Keep your thighs open wide, with your hands by your sides."

Slap! "Ow ow ow."

"Spread them again."

Slap! "Ow ow ow. Fucker. I hate you."

"That's two."

"Oh my god, only two. This is going to build up hugely."

Slap! "Ow. Fuck you!" My clit was singing.

"You always get harder and harder. Please don't get harder than that one."

Slap! "Ow ow ow!" It wasn't harder, but they'd build up together so even staying at the same level of intensity was making it hurt more and more.

"Oh god, one more. You always do the hardest one last."

Slap! "Ow ow ow!" But it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.

"Spread them."

"Hey, that was five already!"

"I'm not done."

Slap! "Ow!"

"This is so unfair!" I rearranged my labia.

"What are you doing, protecting your clit?"

Slap! "Ow ow ow ow!" It was the injustice of it all that got to me.

"That's seven out of five."

Slap! "Ow, fucker!"

"And again, spread them."

Slap! "Owww!"

And back to the vibe. I was surprised he could even find my clit with the vibe; I was sure the swelling would have made my already shy clit hide even more.

I was wrong.

From the first press of the vibe on my cunt my brain turned somewhere else. I can't remember much after he started making it throb. The orgasms took me under and backwards and through. My entire body went rigid. Somehow I could sense him surfing my reactions. He made me come again and again and again. I wouldn't have a clue how many times I came, but I wound up very happy indeed. I was a floaty girl. And I was ready to do it all over again…

Republished with permission from SapioSlut. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo courtesy of Device Bondage.]