Choose Your Own Adventure

Choose Your Own Adventure

“I’m in a mood. Go upstairs, into the toy chest. Pick something that you want me to use, leave it on the nightstand- choose absolutely anything you want, but know that I WILL use it. You have five minutes. Be naked when I get up there.”

In my career, I am well-known for my decisiveness, especially when under pressure of time, resource, or political constraints. I am able to quickly consider options and consequences, and confidently choose a path that mitigates damage and achieves results- even with complicated circumstances or competing priorities. I can effectively communicate that plan to my team and troubleshoot issues during execution.

Just don’t ask me what to have for dinner, or what colour of nail polish I want.

It was with this chronic inability to make small decisions that I approached the toy chest. Filled with innumerable treasures, the toy chest was the start of my very own choose your own adventure story. I stared at the options- everything from mousetraps to suction cups to rope to anal beads- and panicked. What should I choose?

The instructions were delivered with a decided edge to Wonderboy’s usual tone; he clearly intended to bring some intensity to the play. I was wound pretty tightly, not having had a submission session lately. When my fingers brushed the soft leather of a glass-handled flogger, I shivered at the welcome thought of feeling a sting across my ass.

When I wrapped my hand around the ribbed (though narrow) glass handle, my pussy twitched- as much as I wanted to get flogged, I also wanted to get absolutely railed. I grabbed a dildo from the chest, now debating between the two. The chain of some rather pinchy clover clamps caught my eye, and suddenly I was holding three toys.

Two pain, one pleasure- well that simply wouldn’t do. I added a vibrator for good measure, and displayed my treasure spoils on the bedside table. I’ve never been known for my restraint.

I had just finished undressing when he came to the bedroom. He surveyed my choices slowly, his mouth curving into a grin. “Quite the selection,” he mused- the edge still clear in his tone. I wasn’t sure if he was complimenting me or threatening me- I’m still not.

After he undressed, he secured my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. As he pulled each strap tight, the electricity in the room buzzed louder. When he was satisfied with my immobility he gathered the toys from the nightstand and settled himself on top of me, his legs hugging my hips. We made heated eye contact, each assessing the other, wondering how far we would take things. He is very much aware of my affinity for and experience with BDSM, but we hadn’t dabbled much in the art beyond the odd ass smack or hair pull in the heat of the moment. This felt decidedly different.

He kissed me deeply- an unspoken I love you before his demeanour sharpened. He ran his hands down my shoulders, up my stomach, and landed on my breasts. My nipples, already hard, got playfully teased before they were painfully clamped. I gasped, forgetting just how sharp their bite can be. He watched me closely as I took a deep breath, already compartmentalizing the sting in anticipation of being dealt more.

He pulled gently on the chain linking the clamps together, smirking as I tried to control a wince. He put his finger in my mouth, pressing it down my throat to test me. His smirk told me I passed, but before I could feel smug he was already on to the next instruction. “Hold onto this- don’t drop it, or you will be punished,” he ordered as he replaced the finger in my mouth with the chain of the clamps. I hitched my tongue onto the chain and held it behind my teeth- there was just enough give that it pulled tightly, but didn’t actively pull on my nipples.

I vaguely wondered about the punishment, but this felt like an attainable task. As long as I didn’t move my head back or open my mouth too widely, holding onto the chain would be fairly effortless- which he knew, of course.

He slid down between my legs, taking a moment to look me up and down. I felt completely consumed by his gaze- like everywhere his eyes looked turned to flames. He looked at me like I was the only girl in the world, and like he was about to devour me. I completely forgot about the pain in my nipples.

I can’t remember if he started with the dildo or the vibrator- what I do remember is an overwhelming erotic symphony of the two. From his perch between my legs (and with my legs restrained wide open), Wonderboy had me completely at his mercy. He was able to play me like an instrument, alternating between fast, hard dildo thrusts and a laser focused vibrator on my clit. His hands worked their expert magic as a smirk drew across his face.

I could feel my orgasm building. I pressed my hips into the dildo, making the most of my limited ability to move. I moaned and bit down onto the chain as a reminder to keep the chain in my mouth. I was so deliciously excited to cum that I forgot what the chain was attached to; I threw my head back just before my orgasm hit, and instead of ecstasy I felt immediate pain, then frustration.

When I threw my head back, the chain in my mouth pulled on my clamped nipples- hard. The pain immediately coursed through my body, all the way to my clit- which was now untouched, as Wonderboy had edged me just before I reached orgasm. Waves of pain and disappointment and frustration coursed through me as I refocused on creating slack in the chain. I looked up at the man hovering over me, no doubt with a stare of a thousand daggers. He answered me with a small smile, and a sugar coated “Oh, you didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you? Good girls wait to cum.”

Fuck.

The feeling of his tongue on my clit melted me- a welcome change in pressure after the relentless vibrator. Now that I knew he was going to edge me, I stopped chasing the orgasm- I find it much easier to disconnect and let the sensation wash over me when I know any attempt at pulling on the thread of orgasm will result in disappointment. Unfortunately, that particular strategy only works for so long.

Also unfortunately, he was not in a hurry. Just as I neared the edge again he stopped abruptly and left me shivering and begging for more. I swallowed my desperate words as he landed the flogger on my stomach.

The flogger (that I had chosen, I reminded myself) was small and could be soft and teasing or hard and precise. Wonderboy chose both approaches. He warmed me up with soft, quick impacts- stomach, arms, inside of my thighs. The impact was more pleasure than pain, even when he centered it between my legs. I closed my eyes and settled into the rhythm, playing with the clamp chain with my tongue as I shivered with each delicious slap. I was just starting to relax when the bite between my legs turned sharp.

I jolted against the restraints. The look in his eyes told me not to get comfortable. He hit harder in all the same places, earning a wince every now and then when he landed on thin skin. His hits got more precise, and soon he was flicking the flogger with enough force and finesse that the ends kissed my clamped nipples. Each impact felt like a lighter was being held to the tender and pulsing flesh- I wanted to marvel at the skill, but I was too distracted by the bite. Each whip of my nipples earned him a yelp, while his harder impacts between my legs got a moan. He turned me into a one woman symphony, with the crack of the flogger providing excellent percussion.

Keeping the chain in my mouth was no easy feat with a constant assault of bee stings. I yelped when the flogger kissed my skin, occasionally jerking my head back and pulling on the clamps to add to the misery. I realized that I wasn’t helping myself- I was vulnerable and compromised, but I knew how to handle that- I needed to overcome my frenzied panic by submitting. I took several deep breaths, relaxed my limbs, and absorbed the sensations that he dealt- to what I would call a medium degree of success. The chain still got pulled, but not nearly as often.

At long last he put the flogger down, settling back between my legs. His tongue greeted my clit with softness, and I took a deep breath as he danced expert circles around it. The precision of his tongue was dragging me toward an orgasm, whether I wanted to cum or not. He changed pressure and pace to keep me guessing, and brought the dildo back at a steady pace for good measure. I was wary of my clamped and sore nipples, the pain an increasingly constant buzz beneath the pleasure between my legs. I knew the cost of losing control, and tried my best to keep my neck tilted to create as much slack in the chain as I could.

My focus on the chain kept being interrupted by the building tension beneath my clit. I knew that I couldn’t hold out much longer. “Please,” I begged. I’m not sure for what.

Our eyes met, and any ties to this earth that I had melted away. When we make eye contact I can feel him seeing into my soul, and to say it’s unnerving is an understatement. Nothing around me even registered anymore- not the chain, the nipple pain, or even the pleasure- it was just him.

“Cum,” he commanded- and I did.

The orgasm ripped me apart. I had a fleeting thought to bite down on the chain, which served to jerk my clamped nipples around as my head and body thrashed. In spite of the pain, I bit down harder, determined not to let it go. He forced the dildo in and out of me while my pussy squirted around it. I was barely tethered to earth, but the shooting pain in my nipples kept bringing me back to the moment. The relentless pressure between my legs created another orgasm before the first had even finished, and I screamed when I flew over the edge.

You know what happens when you scream? You open your mouth.

I was immediately aware of the chain slipping from between my teeth, but there was nothing I could do about it. I could feel (and hear) my pussy gushing around the dildo, soaking the sheets and his unrelenting hand. I screamed until I had no voice, and he finally released the dildo.