The Weekend (9/28 - 9/29)

Only 3 months late! *cough* So... this is long. Almost Hypnoclub-long. And similarly eventful. Sorry I glance over a few parts here and there, but I needed to get this out. HERE WE GO.

--

I can’t tell you how happy I was to be lying face-down, shirtless, on AmHypnotic’s floor while MentalConfetti, also shirtless, drew on my back and Dragonball Z Abridged played on the TV through an VGA cable.

So, how was your Friday night?

MentalConfetti, a while ago, once threw out the idea of a sleepover at AmHypnotic’s place to me. I agreed heartily, hypothetically. But I didn’t really think it would come to fruition... at least, perhaps not so soon.

A month before this begins, I checked the calendar to our local BDSM dungeon to see if there would be any photo days, as pictures are not allowed normally in the space, and I do enjoy having photos for myself. When I saw that there would be one in the semi-near future, I mentioned it to MentalConfetti to see if she and AmHypnotic might want to go. Later, she said that they could both make it, and I was quite pleased with our plans.

And then, maybe a day later, she asks if I might want to sleep over AmHypnotic’s apartment the night prior.

Somehow, miracle of miracles, a month full of setbacks later, I found myself in the middle of the two-hour drive at 9 pm, thinking to myself, “Really? Really?!” And a little over an hour after that, frantically using AmHypnotic’s shower to wash off the smell of a double shift of waitressing. That is, after ringing the doorbell and seeing him pantslessly answer the door – (Hey, I thought, it IS his own house...) – and a shirtless MentalConfetti on the couch.

“Hola!” he says.

“Hi,” I squeak, “can I use your shower?”

Sometimes I wonder about my life.

Right, skip to the meandering out of the shower and seeing MentalConfetti asleep and under a blanket, and AmHypnotic doing somesuch with his computer. I wibble a bit and then go sit down to bother him.

We chat, I can’t wipe the grin off my face. Nothing new there. Eventually, AmHypnotic decides to wake MentalConfetti up, and I wave at her and say, “good morning!”

After she’s more awake, she makes her way over to a plastic bag and pulls out a box of what I see are body paint makers. She’s got one of her “I’m excited” looks on.

Which brings us to a comment of, “Why does she still have her shirt on?” and me, blushing madly, stripping off my top and bra and promptly laying face down because of my embarrassment, giggling.

Honestly, there is something genuinely enjoyable about lying there and letting MentalConfetti create her art on me. It’s a very peculiar feeling, something akin to contentment and patience. I’m not sure if I could describe it any better.

At the time, I was getting over a cold, and had to ask for coughing breaks through the entire thing, but the design came out beautifully. I was so thrilled when I felt the drawing stop, and heard MentalConfetti say that it was done.

I rushed into the bathroom to look in the mirror and squeed to no end for the next few minutes.

After we were done there, we all sat and watched more of DBZ Abridged, until MentalConfetti said that it was bed time for her. So we said our goodnights, and she went into AmHypnotic’s room.

AmHypnotic, however, is still sitting on the couch. I do a small flail, the sort that I do when I just want to fill silence, he gives me a look, and then comes to join me sitting on the floor.

I don’t remember how it happens, but his hands are on me. Teasing, stroking, fingernails dragging lightly up my inner thighs. My body is hungry for it, more than ready. Arching to his every touch, perhaps overenthusiastically. I want to make noise, but I try to stifle any sounds that want to come out.

Somehow, he and I realize that sitting on the floor isn’t conducive to further activity, and we move to the couch.

He brings me to orgasm with just his hands, first... Which never happens for me. I am sitting, reeling from that, before he gives me a few cuddles, and I melt some more.

All of a sudden, he takes my wrists, and mimes as if he’s tying ropes around them. As I feel them be bound together, I think to myself, “been a damn long time with that one...” And then he ties my ankles together, and binds them with a “rope” to my tied wrists.

I struggle against the invisible ropes, joyfully, just to feel them tug back.

And then his fingers are on me... but he’s tickling me!

I don’t like tickling. I have a habit of injuring others when I’m being tickled because it’s an unpleasant sensation. Sure, I warn people, but they always blame me when I’ve kneed them in the solar plexus.

I’m squirming away and making noises of protest, but the “ropes” still bind me, and when I flail against him he holds me fast. I can’t escape.

I blink in between giggles.

I’m turned on.

“...What?” I gasp out. AmHypnotic stops for a moment and “hmm?”s at me.

It takes me a moment to find my tongue: “...Why is that hot?”

AmHypnotic grins.

“Maybe it’s because you like struggling and can’t get away,” he offers, bringing his fingers back to my ribs.

--

He tickled me until it became too much for real, and our fun on the couch continued as soon as I had caught my breath. I recall a trance happening. There is a vivid image in my head of sitting there and staring into his eyes. The rest is fuzzy from trance and time.

But after I had awoken, he gave me a look.

--

He sits on the couch and motions for me to get on his lap.

I blush right down to my roots.

“I—How—?” I stammer.

I can’t remember if he tells me to lay over his knees, or if he pushes me down, but somehow I am belly-down on his lap, and his hand is on my ass.

I think I like it because it’s an utterly subjugating position. I can’t take the humiliation that some kinksters can, but sometimes it just adds the perfect flavor.

For a moment, I worry about him feeling the wet spot that I know is on my panties.

And then he spanks me and I cry out more in pleasure than pain. Perhaps it feels hard to him, but it takes a couple “Harder?” “Yes, please...” to get a ratio closer to what I want.

His hand slaps against me and he snaps in my ear. My mind reels and I moan and feel myself squirm involuntarily.

“At this rate, I’m going to have to stop before you are,” he says. His hand is getting tired. I gasp out a laugh, cheeks still burning as he snaps and spanks and snaps and ohhh...

--

As an aside, I don’t remember, but I think he triggered me to orgasm like that.

After we wound down from our play, AmHypnotic took the opportunity to show off his compu— I mean, show me some funny videos he had saved. We bothered chat, and at 3 am or so, he went to bed, and I got ready for sleep, hoping that the anticipation and glee would settle down enough for me to sleep.

--

I get breakfast in the morning from the Dunk’s down the road, and am saddened to see that MentalConfetti’s design has been worn a bit from the night prior. But we pack our things and head for the dungeon, with a quick stop to pick up some extra body paint pens for touch-up.

Triumphantly, slightly delirious from excitement  and still not fully believing where I am, I walk into the space and beam hellos at everyone – and find DaSade, who I was going to be hanging around with all day. We had arranged to do rope and some other shoots in the previous weeks. MentalConfetti tells me to strip so that she can work on my back, and I can do nothing but grin, take my shirt off, and quickly flop down on the floor.

--

I didn’t write a ton of notes for the day until after all of the photo business, because while parts of it were erotic, they still certainly had a focus on the process, and a lot of what was going on involved very silly (albeit hilarious) jokes... Yes, there was a scene with AmHypnotic, and yes, rope happened. My first predicament rig, actually. Yeah, they were both awesome.

--

But throughout the day AmHypnotic teases, and I grow increasingly... antsy. And it all culminates when the photoshoots are unofficially done and we play a bit. The orgasm count for the weekend just keeps going up.

After that’s over, it’s around 7 pm, and we’ve been there for around 5 hours already. We get a bit of water and food, and AmHypnotic and MentalConfetti go to lie down in one of the lounges.

When I catch up to them, MentalConfetti is on the couch, stretched out, eyes closed. AmHypnotic is sitting in an armchair next to her. He tells me that she is having some trance time, then pats the space between his legs, and I go to sit on the floor before him.

There are many images from the day that stand out to me in my mind. Not the photos, but memories; those split-second frames of a moment that you recall so vividly.

The three of us, in the corner of the lounge. MentalConfetti in trance on the couch, and me sitting on the ground in front of AmHypnotic, between his knees, leaning back into the foot of the armchair he is on. Lights a little dimmed, the soft sounds of their breathing, the feel of fingers scritching my head briefly.

All of us resting from our day so far, and resting up for the remainder of the night.

I love the scening. I love the play. But I also enjoy that downtime, the flipside to that intensity. The contrast. The respite.

--

Eventually, MentalConfetti wakes up, and I, having not fallen asleep, go over to poke at her. AmHypnotic is passed out, at this point, and she and I sort of half-cuddle-half-mess-around to pass the time. It feels like the lazy fun one might have after an afternoon nap with someone. She retrieves the rope from last time and ties some makeshift cuffs on my wrists.

AmHypnotic comes round and notes our proximity and smiles. We chat a bit, and somehow, the topic changes to something that makes me blush a bit and hide my face.

And then, somehow, we’re talking about orgasms.

He looks at me, and I feel in his gaze the momentary shift of his focus. In that fraction of a moment it makes me listen intensely.

“It’s interesting how you can orgasm without any build-up at all, isn’t it?” he asked, “How that can just happen, and sleepingirl, orgasm NOW.”

Everything feels rough and disjointed but I’m moaning as I’m fucking cumming in my seat, legs tensing, doubling over as it overtakes me, harshly. It’s different, and it kind of hurts, but I know, panting, that I’m kind of into it.

MentalConfetti, watching, pokes me with a small smile.

Somehow she’s teasing me physically, at the request of AmHypnotic, and, um. Yeah. He finally gets up and leans over me, MentalConfetti to the left of me. Pinning my wrists above my head, against the back of the couch.

--

As much as I enjoyed what happened there, on the couch with the two of them, I don’t remember a lot of details. There was lots of teasing, lots of touching, and a few orgasms. I learned that, in particular, MentalConfetti’s hands felt very, very good on my tits. And actually, watching her obey AmHypnotic when he told her to pin me or touch me somewhere was pretty hot in and of itself.

But the scene that has stuck in my mind most from that night, the scene that I wrote things down for as soon as I got home, was the last rope scene with DaSade. After we’d wound down from everything, DaSade sets up a sort of competitive predicament bondage scene in the big, main room, involving weights and crotch ropes and jaw strength and a female friend I’d played with before from my local kink group. Needless to say, I lost rather quickly, as my pain tolerance in that context is subpar. It is what happened next that made me squirm for the next couple of weeks.

--

Still recovering from the safeworded end of the scene, DaSade walks behind me and ties my wrists with rope, and I instantly calm down.

Funny how rope does that.

He takes some thin paracord, maybe 1/8”, and ties the beginnings of a box tie. The rope is cutting into me more than usual, and that strain is making me feel almost euphoric. Wordlessly, he pauses rigging and gets some thicker hemp, and begins to wrap it around my eyes, until there is gentle pressure, and the world is black.

This is the part where my headspace starts to go.

And then he presses rope to my mouth, and gags me with a few wraps.

My heart is pounding. The space seems silent; I feel alone and vulnerable and a bit too disoriented to tell where DaSade will be coming from next. There is heat between my legs.

He finishes the box tie, then ties what I feel to be a sort of hip harness. And then I feel my ankles being pulled apart by paracord, tied to the frame on either side of me.

Naked and unable to move, legs spread, arms bound behind me, I feel the blindfold and the gag come off.

I blink up at DaSade, panting already, and nothing has happened yet. His face is hard, and he reties just the blindfold. I am grateful for the darkness; I can feel the ropes better.

I hear a clinking. Chain. And something heavy. And then I feel pressure from the ropes digging into my back, my torso being pulled down by something attached to the cord at the intersection of my breasts.

...Oh. It’s going to be one of THESE scenes.

I struggle to keep my balance, blindfolded, holding up the free-hanging weight.

I feel another one being attached to the harness at my hips. The weight on the end of the chain is resting lightly against the front of my pussy and clit when I hold it up. And if I move at all or try to change position, it moves as well.

Oh my god.

--

The meat of the scene after this is fuzzy from time and from the headspace I was in. But he keeps messing with the weights – taking them off, putting more on. Heavier each time, testing my limits and making me bend over with the stress of it. My body is aching after just a short time, muscles burning from exertion. I’m panting.

Trembling, I hear someone say, rather matter-of-factly, “That’s fucking hot.” And I briefly wonder to myself, gritting my teeth still, how many people are watching.

But I don’t get to dwell on it much. I know DaSade is there as he gently moves the chains the weights are on and I sway, trying to keep my balance, feeling the ropes dig in more. I know AmHypnotic and MentalConfetti are probably watching. That’s all I need. Through the pain, I feel safe with all of them.

Whimpering and steeling myself as DaSade pulls on one of the ropes, I wonder briefly, fleetingly, if the sound I just heard from behind me was a snap. But my attention is drawn back to the sensations in my body as the weights press gently against my pussy and the ropes strain, and one of my nipples is teased and it’s unbelievably fucking sensitive and I have utterly no idea what is going on.

I’m moaning with almost every breath, at this point.

Wait... is that...?

Through the haze of submission and stimulation, a sharp snap right next to my ear hits me like a physical spank. I cry out, and I don’t care how loud I am.

“Oh my god...”

Time seems to stop and my heart pounds in my ears as I hear him laugh. I’m desperately trying to figure out where he is, at the point of wanting to beg him with my body language because I don’t think I can speak with any coherency.

“Yes, my dear?” he asks, and I know which smirk is on his face just from hearing his voice. I think I wail out in disbelief and arousal at his proximity. Feelings of submission and desire flood through me.

Everything is reaching a peak in my mind and body. I feel over stimulated, over sensitized, and so very, very good. But it isn’t... quite... getting there, or at least not fast enough. Leaning down to feel the weights pull the rope tighter, desperately wanting more; more of anything...

I cry out AmHypnotic’s name.

“Yeeees?” That tone.

I’ve lost the ability to properly filter my speech.

“I want to cum!” I say, too loud, too needy.

The sensations in my body are overwhelming, all flavors of pain and want and gentle teasing fanning the flames of my desire.

“Well then, my dear, are you ready? Orgasm now!”

And it’s as though that sharp feeling of cords on my skin is intensifying everything and I struggle to stay upright as I cum, wailing out my pleasure through the open space.

--

I’m not done yet, I learn. DaSade once again removes the weights and adds more, and by now I am whimpering with every breath. Hands are on me, and my mind is so mushy that I can’t even keep track. Teasing my nipples, my tits, my ass, my sides.

And then, I hear a familiar buzzing sound, and I know that someone has on a vibrating glove.

I cry out and jerk my body awaytowards the feeling, vibrations travelling smoothly through the ropes and into some very fun places. I try not to grind down, even as the weights pull.

Suddenly, there is a moment of clarity when hands are teasing me.

AmHypnotic and DaSade are certainly in front of me.

But someone is behind me with the glove.

I whimper out MentalConfetti’s name, and feel an encouraging smile from her direction, and the laughter of DaSade and AmHypnotic.

Shortly after, I am told to orgasm, and I obey.

--

The thought that there are three of them on me right now – DaSade attending carefully to my pain, AmHypnotic and MentalConfetti to my pleasure – is overwhelming. My thoughts are stinted anyways, the sensations, juxtaposed, driving me mad. That feeling as he takes off the weights... relief, but filled with anticipation and mild fear, knowing that he will soon replace them with something heavier.

But after a few more orgasms and a few more times when weight was added, I hear the chain clink to the ground, and I wonder, dazed, if he won’t put them back on again.

--

I feel him undoing the blindfold, strand by strand of hemp, and when he finally slips it off I blink my eyes a few times, not used to having sight, and then look up at him. His expression is hard, and serious, and sincere, and he takes my face in his hand and guides my chin up. I’m left to stare openly, speechlessly at him, at the intensity of it. I am panting, flushed, heart pounding. There are a few long, powerful moments where the emotion is exchanged, and I feel utterly weak and broken before him.

He grasps my throat with one hand, and I gasp as everything seems to tighten with his grip, even though he’s not even squeezing.

“Don’t look down,” he says quietly. My breathing has picked up; I can do nothing but obey and stare, dumbfounded at him, turned on beyond belief.

I feel a quick cold touch and a small tug at the intersection of ropes between my breasts, and then an incredible sensation of release as they fall off of me.

My mind is reeling with the stimulus it is receiving, from the look in his eyes to the hand on my throat to the thought that is hitting me of him having just cut the ropes right off my body.

My awareness seems to throb, somehow, saving the moment, savoring the moment. The true climactic instant of the scene, despite the multiple sexual climaxes within it.

I have a feeling it will be burned into my brain for a long, long time.

I look down, dumbly, gasping for breath, and see him holding not a knife as I had first assumed, but a safety hook. I think I let out a small, feeble, incredulous laugh, and then lay my head on his chest and feel him hug me, gently. Tears are prickling the edges of my eyes... Not from sadness, or fear, or pain, or relief, or anything. Just that sheer overflow of intense emotion.

Then another pull and I can feel that he’s cut the hip harness, and I make a noise in surprise, and then let him go and undo the rest of it.

And then I’m just naked, shaking and standing next to a pile of cut ropes, and weights, and the three amazing people who just made my night.

I hug DaSade again for a few moments, sighing out shuddery breaths, giggling a bit and shaking uncontrollably. My voice is high pitched and feels a bit louder than normal, but I can’t seem to help it. He wordlessly bends down and picks up the weights, on a chain, and gives them for me to hold.

They feel heavy, and my heart pounds once with the thrill of that.

“How much weight is that?” I ask.

“Well,” he says, “about 4 pounds less than what you had on before. That’s 11 pounds.”

4... pounds... less...

He...

AmHypnotic laughs at this point.

“He actually took weight off the last time he removed them,” he said. “So I guess you had 15 pounds on you.”

But it felt... heavier... My mind reels.

God, that is inexplicably hot.

I realize that I am naked and a bit cold and shaking. AmHypnotic is sitting on the ground with MentalConfetti, and I lie down and put my head on his crossed ankles. MentalConfetti fetches me water and sits next to me, and I sort of unconsciously go to cuddle her with my legs. AmHypnotic tells me (motions, really) to go sit next to her, and I do, and she latches on like some sort of snuggle creature, and that’s exactly what I need at that moment, and everything is right in the world.

While I slowly get full control of my limbs and state of mind back, we chat about the scene a little. (Ermahgerd! Rerp!) DaSade shows the safety hook he used to cut the ropes, and then it occurs to me to ask.

“How long was that?”

“Maybe about 30 minutes?” AmHypnotic replies.

I giggle, incredulous.

30 minutes... Wow.

DaSade mentions how he had to stop so that I would have 30 minutes afterwards to recover, and I think I gave him a thumbs-up and agreed that that was a good idea.

--

And before I knew it, it was almost 2 am, and it was time for us to go home.

We had spent almost 12 hours at the dungeon. And I had spent over 24 hours with AmHypnotic and MentalConfetti. The real world felt like a fairy tale, and the fairy tale felt like reality. But I drove home in my own car, slept in my own bed, and woke up in my own house, wholly expecting throughout all of it for that universe to just pop out of existence so I would find myself back at the space. It never did, and I think it was only the constant reminder of the intense(ly awesome!) aches the next day that kept me sane.