Gwen: Looking down the abyss (pt 3)


The light.


The light.

Her eyes were heavier than she had experienced in quite a while. Each blink seemed painfully difficult to do. Left to her thoughts, Gwen tried to figure out what time it was. The light coming through the window helped her a smidge. Her body ached from top to her toes. Everything in between was exhausted beyond comprehension. She figured with the daylight peeking in – that it was mid-day some time Saturday. With the events that transpired – it could be Wednesday for all she knew.

She grimaced at the thought of moving her arms and legs – and she regretted it. Her muscles were spent, burning, empty. Gwen managed to look down and see that she was under the sheets – her hands free of the duct tape that they were bound in. She was clean – no wet spot – she carefully eyed the room again. She was exactly where she was when she passed out although she had no idea how M changed the sheets and cleaned her up.

“My brain hurts.” she muttered to herself closing her eyes again – bringing her left arm up and over her eyes to protect them from the glow outside.

Gwen drifted off asleep again.

When she came to, M was laying naked next to her – grinning at her.

“Hi.” He charmed her.

Softly she smiled back, stretching her arms straight out – realizing something wasn’t quite right. “Hi,” she said wearily, her expression dampened somewhat. Gwen tried to figure out what changed, what was wrong. There was a slight look of panic in her expression – knowing full well that the smile that looked back at her was anything but innocent.

Her heart raced a bit more as she continued surveying what was different. Gwen shifted a bit – pulling her head upward until …. she nearly choked herself with the leather collar that held her firmly to the bed. Instinctively, she reached up to touch the slightly touch the 1 inch band plied around her neck. Her fingers traced the cool leather to the cold steel lock that connected the chain that she assumed connected to the bed. Wherever it locked to – she wasn’t going very far.

She relaxed somewhat, still unsure but not in full panic. Lowering her head on the pillow – staring up at him with her alluring green eyes. Folding her hands under her her face, her grin turns into a bright smile as she coyishly looks up at him. She marveled at his chest, his arms, his face. Gwen wanted to reach out and touch him, but that would be too forward for her.

M grinned back at her, reaching out with this left hand, pulling strands of her hair away from her face.

“How are you doing?” In a tone that was a far cry from the sadist that unleashed havoc hours earlier.

She smiled up at him “I’m ruined” she purred. He chuckled. M replied with a big smile on his face.

He then reached behind him to get her water bottle that was refreshed with ice water. She sipped on the straw, taking in very long sips to replenish her dehydrated state. After she was finished sipping – he reached and took the bottle and placed it back over on the nightstand. He then reached for something else before turning back over to her holding a chocolate chip cookie folded in a napkin.

Her eyes lit up and her smile was positively glowing as she was taken aback that he remembered the cookie bit at the Starbucks many moons ago now.

She put the cookie up to her mouth – stopping short before taking a bit – looking deeply into his eyes, asking the question with her gaze – asking permission before eating – something she still has issues with remembering … but she’s getting better.

“You may.” He smiled back, studying her as her lips wrapped around the edge of the cookie, biting off a small part and chewing. “God he’s watching me eat” she thought to herself. Crumbs littered the white linen sheets.

The small talk continued, the cookie was consumed and the hydration process was well underway. He revealed to her that it was mid-afternoon actually and that she slept very soundly throughout the night and morning. There was conversation about what happened. Playful banter back and forth. Gwen forgot she was still connected when she went to get up to use the restroom.

“Oooof. Hey, um … I need to pee please.” She pleaded.

“I know you do.” He retorted. Her cheeks immediately blushed. M continued his long stare at her – seeing that she was getting more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked off. Gwen couldn’t hold her gaze up at his – feeling her bladder filling up and the inability to just up and go … yeah – embarrassment city for the girl.

After several minutes, her blush gave way to the really uncomfortable feeling growing inside her

“I really need to go, M – please!”

“I know you do.” He calmly replied.

She was getting more frustrated, more pained and her patience was getting the best of her.

“Try again.” He calmly stated.

“What the hell?” she thought to herself. Puzzled, Gwen recalled the last few minutes and then – almost like a lightbulb moment it came to her.

“May I please use the restroom?” she asked.

“Yes you may” as he reached behind her and undid the chain locked to the bed frame. She smiled at notion she got the right answer, erm question – and then realized that he had the length of chain still in his hand. As she scurried around the bed to make her way to the bathroom, M got off the bed and followed her. The tug of the chain reminded her not to go too quickly.

He followed her into the bathroom where she immediately went to assume the position on the toilet. He smiled at her. “God this is embarrassing!” she thought to herself. Suddenly she developed a shy bladder. “No no no no – this isn’t happening!” She buried her head in her hands – trying desperately to pretend he wasn’t there.

“Don’t look. If he can’t see you, he’s not there.”

“Shit! He is.”

“Okay, think of flowing rivers, the sound of the sea. Please!”

“Ugh!” Nothing was coming out.

“He’s still looking at me. Fuck he’s hot standing like that. No no no, focus! Focus!” her thoughts meandered as M’s naked frame was propped in the doorway to the bathroom.

“I can do this. I can do this. Just focus. Concentrate.”

“FUCK! Come on – please!”

“Ahem.” he cleared his throat. “So not helping!” she said internally – not even daring putting that out in the open. Begging for it … aching for it … finally a dribble consisting of a few drops … “God this hurts!” she screams inside until finally her bladder relaxes allowing a small modest flow to happen. “Oh thank God….”  It wasn’t perfect and she probably could’ve gone a lot longer, but she’s happy she got anything at all.

M was thoroughly amused as he has been before – taking away her privacy like that.

Nothing was hers. The surrender, the control. Everything. So things like bathroom privacy, merely reinforces that surrender that much more. He didn’t have to stand and watch her pee – but he did and he likes it because of what it does to her.

As the last few dribbles dripped from her pussy into the bowl. Gwen quickly brought the wadded up toilet paper to her tender bits before standing and flushing in one fluid ballet movement.

M allowed her to finish and then motioned for her to come back into the bathroom. She passed by him with the jingle of her chain as she spun into the bedroom totally flustered she forgot to notice or recognize that she passed by his nakedness.

Gwen made her way to the bed when a slight yank on her collar froze her those tracks.

Nothing was said.

Nothing had to be said.

The tug on her collar guided her to a small pile of blankets on the floor she didn’t see while her great escape to the bathroom. She blushed brightly, but with a big smile as she she knew this was to be her place. Gwen gracefully knelt and brought her legs underneath her as she beautifully situated herself on the white linen and pillows.

M couldn’t help but smile brightly as he reached over her – locking her to the bed frame. It allowed her to have a 10 foot adjustment to where she was – enough to pivot and rotate … but not enough to walk very far.

As she settled in, he was in awe of the captive beauty attached to the bed frame. He visually traced her contours, the shadows from the outside light, the softness of the sheets. The resulting composition in his mind was subtle beauty.

His grinned continued as he stood up and went to his camera bag. Gwen blushed and was somewhat worried as she had been concerned about images being distributed on the internet. Still, there was a trust and the belief that nothing was hers. Her concerns quieted as she settled more into her makeshift nest.

He stood over her with his camera, his cock stirred at the sight of her.

She noticed and blushed somewhat, becoming fixated at his member as he walked around her.

He ultimately positioned himself back over by the chair he was in before. She coyishly tried to play with the camera lens and him. The result were several really hot erotic, enticing photos of his girl chained to the bed with her expression positively aglow. He played with her hair and continued shooting images at various angles. He had her smile, look out a different way from the lens – all very personal and yet erotic hot at the same time.

Gwen cooed to herself as she rested in her bond and gathered bedding. Soon she drifted off asleep again.

Unbeknownst to her, the camera continued shuttering off a few more images in her sleepy state. She was heavenly bound, peacefully ruined and content.

The floor wasn’t the most comfortable rest, but as she awoke from her various cat naps she found M sitting across the room in a chair looking at her. Slightly embarrassed, she coyishly pulled the sheets up around her as though a feeble attempt to protect her modesty. The gaze was particularly intense, but not cruel or bad – just a sadistic smile that causes the toes to curl. Gwen shot back and equally playful grin at him – trying to hold his gaze without folding … which was particularly difficult to do given the intensity aimed at her.

“Hi,” she smiled at him.

Her smile was met by his.

The gazing went on for several minutes before M stood from his chair and the first thing she noticed was that he was clothed and washed up. “I must’ve slept a bit harder than I thought.”

M went over to the bed and sat on the corner just about where her chains were connected to the bed. She followed his movement and was looking over her shoulder at him.

“Hi.” He replied. “I’m going to step out for awhile.”

She froze.

“But you needn’t worry. It won’t be very long. But just in case ….”  He reached down next to the bed and produced … a bucket.

Gwen shrieked in playful terror at the thought … but the seriousness if she had to …. it overwhelmed her and caused her cheeks to swell beet red. God how horrifying!

His evil smile made it even more embarrassing. He stood and placed the bucket in the middle of the floor in front of her. He also reached in his pocked and pulled out her phone – setting it noticeably on the corner of the bed.

“Safety protocols in place.” He said to her, holding her cell phone in his hand before setting it on the side of the bed behind her. That was a code for: use the phone in case of an emergency, no texting or calling or games or surfing or emailing or anything while he was gone – UNLESS – his recognizable text tone “Bazinga!” came through, then she had permission to see what was sent to her. He then flashed the backside of the phone to reveal the key to her lock was taped to the backside if she needed to free herself.

He bent over and kissed her on the top of her head. She reached out and clung onto his leg – hugging it – kissing his shoe before reluctantly letting go. Gwen had no idea why he was leaving – but it was clearly important or significant enough for him to do so. He placed his strong hand atop her head gently stroking her hair. He grinned and then pulled away from her.

Gwen’s stomach dropped as each step away reinforced how she was feeling. The door closed behind him and she all of a sudden felt very sad and alone. She went to adjust herself and found comfort in the collar binding her to the bed.

A big sigh came over her as she curled further into her blanket cocoon.

“I could just sleep,” She said softly to herself. “Not like I’m going to get into anything,” she said with a smile. Her mind then kicked on. Racing just a little. “What could I get into” she started thinking. Anyone observing her behavior from the outside would clearly know it from her mannerism and expression that this was exactly what she was thinking.

An devilish smile overcame her as her hand started feeling her body. She reached up to touch her collar again, playing with the chain that connected her, teasing herself – and her sore nipples grew. Still riding a bit of an endorphin rush, she sighed at how well her life is right now. Gwen giggled at that notion given her current predicament and what transpired in the last 24 hours. “God if people only knew,” she chuckled to herself.

Hours, days and weeks had passed – which realistically was only about 40 minutes, but in “slave in the floor” time conversion it was still a long time.

As she writhed a bit on the floor. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but she was in the mood to get into something. She scanned the room as a playful cat might do. How apropos given her current state of nakedness, turned on and bondage. She again found her fingers teasing her body as she pulled on her nipples. Gwen closed her eyes to remember how the nipple clamps dug in to her tender teats. She begins to moan, her breath growing more shallow, body curling and squirming as her legs peek out of the sheets into the exposed cool air. Her fingers run down her stomach and start rubbing the ….


A very audible gasp. A shock. She heard nothing. No footfalls, no doors, no car engine coming back. “How?” Gwen strained to listen, being very quiet and holding her breath. A small gulp in her throat.


The automatic reminder text happened again.

She reached up where the phone was and pulled it down to read.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” The message from M displayed.

“Wait, what?” She stared at the screen in disbelief. “How the …” and before she could formulate the question in  her mind another message appeared.

“The answer to your question is yes, I can see you.”

A small “eep” came from her vocal chords as she seriously wondered if he was still in the house with her. No, he wasn’t. She rationally processed that. Gwen knew what she heard and saw. So how did … .another message popped up.

“On the bed is a box. Open it.”

Box? She peeked further on top of the bed to see a square white box with a black bow tied around it. “Ohhhhh, he planned this out.” A bright smile overcame her face as she leaned up and grabbed the fairly heavy box. Anticipating nothing – because she has known M enough to know to expect the unexpected.

She sat the box in front of her folded legs.

Pulling the lead off one end of the bow, the furls of the fabric gave way allowing her access. As she reached for the lid, she hesitated briefly knowing that he could see her expression and everything. Carefully easing the lid up she could make out the white tissue paper carefully wrapping whatever contents was inside. As she pulled the lid away – the smell of leather overtook her. “God I love the smell.” Her eyes closed briefly as she savored in the aroma.

Peeling the tissue back she saw a black leather belt carefully coiled and sitting atop a hand written note that appeared to have instructions. On top of it was another bundle of tissue wrapped items. A pair of black pumps framed the sides of the interior of the box. Pulling out the coiled belt and pumps, she smiled and then raised up the instructions:

“g ~
you will dress yourself.
you will bind yourself.
you will hydrate yourself.
you have 7 minutes.

“Wait, what?” All of a sudden everything was spinning out of control. She tore through the rest of the items trying to figure out everything she had going on.

M, being a bit of a techno-nerd – managed to access a nearby picture frame that read: “7:00”, “6:59”, “6:58”

“Fuck!” She yelled knowing he was watching and enjoying this a little too much.

“Okay I have shoes, I have thigh highs, wrist and ankle cuffs, oh and locks for those cuffs (fucking great), a slip, okay – wait … what’s ….” She pulled out something somewhat foreign to her – but they were rubber panties … “OMG, with a dildo – you’re kidding me!” she yelled out loud.

“BAZINGA!” chimed after her comment – clearly he anticipated her reaction.

“At least I included lube 🙂 ….”

She started chuckling “Thank you!” she yelled out into the empty room knowing full well he could hear this. She glanced at the “clock” which now read “6:45”, “6:44.” “Dammit!” She redirected her attention back at her very intrusive underwear and quickly reached for the small packet of lube that was included. Tearing open the packet she gobbed the whole thing on her hand and quickly began applying it on the impressive phallus.

“Mean. He’s just mean.” Gwen thought to herself as she started sliding on the very conforming, very snug and tight panties. The way the latex clung to her legs, she wished she had more lube. With her lubed hand she rubbed the remaining goo on her pussy – then along her thighs as she worked up the panties. “This. Is. Taking. Forever.” She thought – not wanting to look at the time because that would be bad.

With a gasp, she encouraged the phallic member up into her pussy – which was hard to do on the floor and she couldn’t spread her legs too wide because of the unforgiving latex. But God damn this felt good to her. As the lube and her wetness met, the dildo worked its way inside. She wiggled around some more to pull the latex panties up as high as they could go.

“Oh my God.” She heaved. This thing is massive. The dildo caused her to ache as she teetered somewhat to catch her breath. “Focus dammit, focus. What’s next?” She scanned the floor. Her arousal made her woozy as she still hadn’t recovered from the earlier onslaught. She panted as she found the thigh highs and started to put them on. The ever present phallic reminder made this job a hundred times tougher than normal – oh – and she’s on the clock too. She absentmindedly glanced up and saw “3:22,” “3:21.” She whimpered. The panties took a long time to work on – she hoped she could be expedient with the remaining items.

With her thigh highs pulled up, she reached for the ankle cuffs and she soon realized that this part had gotten pretty automatic. She deftly secured both ankles and then grabbing the unlocked locks from a smaller bag, she locked them on her feet. She repeated the same process for her wrists and Gwen felt invigorated that the time it has taken her to learn how to do the cuffs has really been impressive. She glanced back up at the clock “1:57”, “1;56.”

“Wow!” She thought to herself – that was amazing! “Great! What’s next?” She grabbed the slip and realized with the collar still attached to the bed frame, she’s going to have to go the reverse route on this. She found herself wiggling as best she could – managing to get the soft silky slip over her hips and pulled up to her to her breasts and for a moment she forgot the phallic driving into her internal organs … (or at least that’s how it felt like to her)

With the slip in place, she reached and applied the shoes and looked at the time – the countdown from “0:23”, “0:22”, “0:21.” She let out a big sigh of relief.

“BAZINGA!” the chime went off. She looked at the incoming message.

“you forgot something.”

She quickly looked at the clock “0:08”, “0:07” – “What did I forget? C’mon – think think!!” She dashed to the note but before she could read it the timer went off.

“What did I forget?” she wondered looking aimlessly at the paper – trying to find a clue.

A voice appeared from no where. “Hydration is a very important part of the recovery process is it not?” M stood in the doorway and she completely missed how that happened. The timer was still going off when M pulled out his cell phone and turned it off.

“Yes Sir.” Gwen said meekly. Her disappointment now was setting in. “It was there in front of me and I just didn’t see it.”

M had a feeling that she would miss that crucial nugget – but he imagines she won’t forget it again after tonight. Yeah, he has plans and no – she has no idea what those are yet. He stepped further into the room carrying what appeared to be a hanging dress of some kind although she couldn’t make it out.

He bent over to affix the short hobble chain to her ankles, then kissed her on the cheek as he made his way up to undo the chain that locked her to the bed frame.

“We’re going out,” as he draped the dress on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to hobble your ankles, but you will be free otherwise to freshen up before we go.”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

He turned around.

Saying nothing.

He just looked at her. It wasn’t a harsh look. It wasn’t a mean one or an angry one. Just a look. The look that says: “we’re going out …. I’m going to hobble your ankles, but you will be free otherwise to freshen up before we go” look. That look.

He stood there. Again. Saying nothing. The intensity was there as she didn’t think he even blinked after he turned around.

It took about 20 seconds for Gwen to realize “just get your ass off the ground, do as he says, no further questions.” She instantly broke eye contact with him and began stirring her legs in a way that she could rise up off the floor while wearing the hobble (not as easy as one might think) and adding heels made the whole process even more tricky.

He finally blinked his eyes and adjusted the intensity and mood. Much to her relief, she stood on her 3 inch pumps. She was grateful it was just the 3 inch ones as she hadn’t developed a tolerance for the 4 inch pumps yet. That training was going slowly.

She straightened out her slip and ensured her thigh highs were staying up.

“You have …. seven minutes.” M said with a grin. She got his expression in the mirror – just a split second before the dildo inside her came to life. “Holy motherfu…….. Gah!!!!” she cried out.

“6:56.” He said

“6:55.” He said before spinning on his heels to exit the room to let her continue getting dressed and prepared.

The night …. was just beginning.


Gwen: Looking down the abyss (pt 2)




She lost track where she was. The tremors were easing finally as she drifted off asleep in her leather encased hood. It startled her at first, waking in pure darkness, her drool now dripping down the side of her cheek. Gwen went to move her arms – only to realize they were still bound. Suddenly her focus began to re-calibrate where she was and what was going on.

M noticed her sudden shift and drew his left arm around her – spooning her from behind. His nakedness plied against hers. Wetness from the tip of his cock stained her backside. Gwen began shifting and squirming some more – humping – encouraging M’s cock to grow harder, larger.

He smiled at the vision of his pet humping him like that. unable to use the opposable thumbs encased in their duct tape wrappings. “She’s become the very thing she abhors the most” He thought to himself – encouraging her actions – unknowing to her how she was performing. Gwen found her own mindset full of lust, very sexually centric and otherwise pre-occupied with all the sensations. She was reduced to the lowest possible setting at this point: she’s his object of affection and sexual kept play thing.

Gwen quickly lost all sense of reality and was simply operating as a primal animal would. Desperately sexually craving beyond anything she could imagine.


The taped embedded egg on her clip leapt to life once more.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmooooooooooree” she managed to utter as clearly as anything she had said in the last couple of hours. Her ability to reasonably talk was suddenly very difficult for her to do. She couldn’t articulate it – because she had a difficult time even understanding or comprehending her language center. Words and concepts eluded her. She would be so pissed at herself for allowing this – but there’s no way she can even rationalize that thought.

She came again … and again … and again ….

Gwen moved her hands down as if to say “stop,” only to find her arms weren’t moveable anymore. Something kept them from going further downward. She tried moving her legs but something was pulling the hobble chain to the foot of the bed. She was unable to move much except for the humping and slight rotation of the hips that he allowed.

Wave after wave …. the orgasms hit. She gushed herself empty before when she was bound to the chair and she shouldn’t have anything left … but out it came – drenching herself again uncontrollably, the bed is left with a giant wet spot.

Suddenly she clenched – anticipating the violent shock to her thigh to be repeated.

“You know what comes next don’t you.” M quietly relayed to her.

“Nnnnnnnnnnnooo. Nnnnnnnnnnnoo pppeeeeeeeeeeeeez” was all she could muster as she started crying uncontrollably underneath the hood. She thrashed as best she could within the limitations of her bonds to avoid the inescapable shock. Gwen started shaking again.

“You know it’s coming – it’s just a matter of when.” M calmly added.

“Nnnnooooooo Gooooooooooood pppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeez” was again the only thing she could muster. The sobs were more pronounced now. The heaving of her chest – drawing in as much air as she could within the confines of the leather hood.

M smiled at her. She of course couldn’t see that.

“I’m going to fuck you – and you will do everything in your power to get me off. If you don’t, I will unload that shock collar onto your thigh. Have I made myself clear?”

Gwen nodded her head excitedly and as quickly as she could. ANYTHING to avoid that fucking shock collar would be much preferable. She pulled on her bondage to try and spread her legs for him – but that was to no avail. She grunted and attempted to pull her hands downward to assist – again to no avail.

“I have to do this. God I have to do this.” raced in Gwen’s mind. “Help me please, please.”

The bondage wasn’t budging. No access was happening.

“I guess you want to shock collar after all.” M toyed.

Her sobs came more frantic now – as she thrashed around trying to award her M with access to her – but it wasn’t happening.

“Okay, it’s going to happen … in 3 …. 2….”

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!” Gwen cried out in the midst of tears pulling feeby at her bondage. The red marks have cut nicely into her wrists and ankles. Her cries subsided. They weren’t as loud, not as frantic. It was as though she was settling down. “Ohhhhhh, wrong move buttercup” M thought to himself.


She lurched upwards into her bonds and the scream was a bit more serious this time. The sobs and cries ride a crescendo – riding to a crest before descending into a melancholy rumble of whimpers and moans as the pain subsides and the shaking returns to her left leg.

He sadistically mulls over her current plight. The beast growling quietly in the background of M’s voice. The tenor and timbre vibrate slightly – and is detected by Gwen somehow – who reacts with a slight gasp. The beast wasn’t supposed to emerge … and that caused her to have a rekindled fear of what’s to come.

“I’m fucked,” she thought to herself.

Seconds became hours it seemed like. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” as she began crying for different reasons now.

Gwen went silent as she struggled to internalize what was about to come. In her darkness, she couldn’t see anything and her hearing was very sub-par. Her body became electric – anticipating anything and everything.

She felt the warmth of his body approaching hers ever so slightly. The hot air from his breath causing turbulent excitement and subsequent hairs to stand up on end. It’s amazing how without a touch – he’s able to affect her body so profoundly that a simple breath on her thigh – can shoot hairs straight up all the way up to her head. Her breathing quickened.

She waited several minutes (actually it was just a few seconds) before she felt something shifting between her legs. Gwen gently moved her leg to reveal it no longer was connected to the bed. The hobble remained but she could finally move. She quickly, instinctively adjusted herself to her knees – a pleading case in offering her ass to him. She settled herself with her chest downward, ass up as high as it could go. Quietly begging him to take her by the ass.


The sting of his hand leaving a welt on her ass – she buried her hooded head deeper into the sheets. Even if it suffocates her – she would rather do that then deal with the beast who has control over the shock collar controller. She quickly recovers and repositions her ass so that it is up in the air prominently.

She feels the contours of his body – slowly plying with her – he reaches down – grabbing her breasts from behind – as his cock making its way and presses against her thigh – just beneath her ass. The grabbing of her tits was rough – and very painful. The grip was relentless as she screamed without sound … for she didn’t want to encourage the beast more ….

M’s cock – inches further upward to her exposed ass. Her cum continues to ooze out of her pussy down her thighs. He lubed his cock before positioning behind her. He releases her pained orbs and pushes himself upward slightly to reposition himself. He grabs her hips. Gwen buries her head further, anticipating the penetration.

Pushing his way through her folds, the tightness of her ass surrounds his hard lubed cock. Gwen moans into her hood as he gets completely inside her. He holds his cock there, twitching, causing her reaction – to twitch in kind. M pulls his cock slowly out – before thrusting it inside again – deeper than before.


“FUCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK” as the nestled vibrator springs back to life. Fucking her, teasing her clit. She almost immediately orgasms again. With each thrust M can feel the vibration on his balls as they slam into her ass. He goes deep again – this time enjoying the vibrating sensation going through the wall of her vagina – emanating throughout her pelvis.

The all too familiar growl comes from his throat as he continues to assault Gwen’s ass. A fuck toy, a thing, a hole to be had – the faceless being has no other accord accept to be the recipient of his pleasure.


“OH GODDDDDDDDDDDDDNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” but it was too late, the intensity of everything happening in a small square foot of her body – the abuse – the pleasure and the pain. Dear God the pain.

That jolt from the attached collar managed to zap M in the process – causing his cock to respond reactively at the same time. The sudden unexpected transfer only fueled his beast more. The lubed and lathered cock forcibly pummeling Gwen’s anus.

The wash, rinse, repeat thing is wearing Gwen down. The orgasms keep coming, but things are hurting. She buries her head into the sheets, nearly asphyxiating her self. The alternating bullet and shock collar has her trembling in every direction imaginable. She forgets everything about the humiliation, degradation or dehumanizing things he’s done to her. She’s merely a toy for his enjoyment.

Finally, after half a dozen repeat cycles, the bullet in her clit begins to give way. All the squirting she has done has made the duct tape loose its adhesion to her mound. She lost count. There’s no way she could tell how many …. GOD AGAIN.

It seemed like forever – the assault lasted forever until …. M started shaking … he legs wobbly …. and explosion …. on the verge and ……

The growl was unmistakenable. The claw marks digging into her soft skin, clenching her close as …. every single thrust shot hot cum inside her. The growl got louder, the claw marks went deeper …. the beast took her …..


Her face contorted in the hood but finally there was no sound as she disappeared mentally deep into the abyss. No one would hear her scream – she didn’t have anything left in  her lungs to offer. She was spent. Exhausted. Kaput.

M dismounted her. The egg fell free landing on the floor next to the bed. His body collapsed next to hers on the wet soaked bed. He reached over and pulled her into him. His cock still oozing with cum, lube and her ass nuggets but she didn’t care. He held her close as he was trying to recover what lasting brain cells remained. The beast gripped her left bicep tightly – as he slowly retreated back into the cage he came from.

His grip loosened slightly. She started catching her own breath – completely oblivious to what just happened.

He reached and unlocked the collar keeping her hood on. That sense of permanence scared her – but centered her. Frightened her – but calmed her. Excited her – but left her numb. A wide range of conflicting paradoxes happening internally. Within a minute the hood was unlaced and she could breathe normally again. She was greeted with a bottled water which she generously lapped up.

“Thank you.”

Gwen kept her eyes closed as it was very painful to go from all black into a fairly lit room. M placed his arm under her ear as she laid her head on him.


Hurting … confused as fuck … but peaceful.

After setting aside the remotes, hood, collar and lock – he reached around her to draw her in. Her mind was peaceful, humming, exhausted. While she became everything she swore she never would, Gwen found that almost freeing in some respects. To let go of her self-pride, to break free of the armor she’s donned during her life.

Her abyss has kept going further, darker, beyond.

He didn’t have to warn her that this would happen. She knew the moment she  surrendered herself to him. Long after they painfully discussed all the elements of consensual non-consent and what times like this might be like.

Even as this became one of the greatest fears she had going into CNC, she feels the emerging rebirth of herself. A sense of knowing where she is in the universe almost. There’s clarity – and almost purity of such a release. Having that kind of unconditional trust – fortified with the love and commitment he has for her.

It seems completely contradictory.

How can love blossom, grow and fortify when there’s such brutality, fear, degradation and inhumane treatment.

As Gwen lies there with cum and lube dripping out of her ass, her pussy all but ruined – she stares out across the bedroom – focusing on nothing particular. Her look is of contentment with her ruined makeup, mascara-stained tears, smeared lipstick. A grin comes over her face. Her blank stare focusing on nothing in particular – she has been used ….

“I’m proud of you,” M cooed slightly to her.

…. and she enjoyed it.

Gwen: Looking down the abyss (pt 1)

Of course she resisted.

Being painfully restrained assisted. The bite of the leather digging into her tender wrists. The unforgiving chain taut – almost laughing at her feeble attempts to pull free. She wasn’t going anywhere.

The lights were low, except for her – front and center which she hated.

Gwen of course couldn’t say anything as the duct tape prevented anything more than what could be summoned from her throat. Her head thrashing uselessly side to side as though that was going to dislodge the sticky strip from her mouth. Her heart raced inside her heaving naked chest. Drips dribbled slowly out of her pussy as she sensed it, smelled herself enjoying things.

She was lost and oblivious to where he was after being enamored with her predicament – nothing else mattered.

Gwen didn’t put up much of a fight as she relished the opportunity to bear his chains once more. It was peaceful for her – being kept in such a state.

M’s footfalls could be heard behind her.

“Shit!” was the second to last thought she had before he leaned over and viciously ripped the tape off her lips. “Fuck!” she uttered before her world went black. The leather hood quickly succumbed her to a state of darkness, a state of fear, a state of the unknown. A state of being – existing – she felt her humanity slowly fading into the darkness. She felt the tug and tussle of the leather adjusting to the contours of her skin. The laces she felt drawing the leather even tighter against her head.

She struggled slightly to find her air source, but she knew he already found them for her. It was her mindfuck that made her forget as she continued to focus on her breathing.

Her thoughts raced … then dulled.

She had no source – no input – no external stimuli.

She slowly continued to evolve.

Thoughts of work, family brunch and a to do list which had been growing – suddenly didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. The hood made sure about that.

As the lacing continued down the backside of her head, she felt M’s touch on the side of her cheek, brushing against the leather layer of her imprisoned head. She quietly mewed to herself. Her body was becoming more aware that her world was slowly flowing away.

Gwen knew what this mean to him. The objectification. The dehumanization. It was all in the mind for him. To be a toy. A thing. An it. Anything and everything was possible when there’s no identity to refer to, no pride to hold onto, a very distant pale representation of who she really was.

She lost track of time. Her breathing consumed her. Her fate was sealed and encased in soft leather.

M stood back – admiring his work. Her head bowed slightly, still adjusting to it’s faceless prison. He grabbed a leather collar and wrapped the sturdy binding around her neck, snug – but could’ve been a lot tighter. He then pulled out a silver lock – appropriately named “Master” of course – as the hoop was clicked shut.

Gwen momentarily lost track of everything until she heard and felt the click. Her head raised slightly – then lowered once again after realizing any attempt to complain was moot at this point. Her head and mind – slowly drifting into oblivion.

M smiled as he went to sit on the edge of the bed. The lights still pressing down on his beautiful slave. He was proud of her. The months of discovery, to get to know one another, followed by the collaring and commitment to one another – all in whirlwind fashion – has been really something. The realities of the world will always circulate around them – that’s just how life goes – so precious time like this makes it worth it to get lost for an hour or a day … just being ….

Gwen stirred slightly in her bonds. Her resistance was waning … as her acceptance began taking firmer hold.

M marveled at her beauty. Her naked – beautiful form. Her breasts – yearning for attention – but dearly afraid at what the sadist will dish out. Her curves – so wonderfully accentuated by the bold bright light shining down on her from up above. Her head aimlessly sways – almost trying to discern what’s happening – unable to resist. Not wanting to resist.

Going … deeper …. darker.

It’s not the first time she has been in a hood or that they’ve played together with them. Gwen didn’t really like them at first. She hated anything on her head and the thought of being an object offended her to no end. It was something she fought against – almost every time M pulled it out. The training was relentless. She had already given him blanket consent and there were a lot of conversations about hood and objectification before she surrendered that to him.

What Gwen didn’t expect was how erotic it was to almost look at things through a primal lens. It allowed her to become something she wouldn’t normally be. When things became eroticized for her – well, that just made it that much more special. Suddenly – being in the hood also allowed her pussy to come alive … and alive it does – throbbing – aching.

She loved him and hated him for it simultaneously. That inner battle raged on at first when her defiance and humanity filter kicked on. She would bite at him if she could – but eventually she succumbed to whatever M did to her – and he pulled her out of that head space – where she eventually forgot what she was upset at him for in the first place.

“Damn him.” Gwen would think to herself.

M checked his watch.

He got up and positioned himself directly in front of her. M undid her right wrist cuff entirely so her leather marked wrist was free. Gwen knew better than to thrash around – so she quietly pulled her arm up to get circulation going again before laying it back down. M pulled her hand towards him slightly, she complied. He put something in her hand – but she had no idea what it was. It felt cool to the touch and somewhat round. Gwen thinks she figured  out the piece of PVC pipe in her grasp. She grinned under the leather – anticipating what was to come.

M deftly applied athletic wrap – to then be covered by strips of duct tape. Gwen’s hand became cocooned in the wrap and tape. She attempted unsuccessfully to dislodge the plastic within her taped bondage. After he was complete, he against secured her wrist back into the cuff before switching to the other wrist and repeating the same thing.

Once both hands were encased, he again sat back on the bed – letting her new found attachments adjust to her. He observed her flexing the embedded pipe with the limited ability she could.

M sat there for several minutes just looking at her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the remote control. Unbeknownst to her, the bullet vibe taped to her clit sprang to life.

“MMmmmmmmmmmmph” was all she could muster as her head flew back. Her hands attempted the same position, held taut by the chain once more. Shaking, her breath quickened and any attempt of squeezing her hips together were pointless by this time. It didn’t take her long to release into an orgasm … then another quickly followed.

This continued for several minutes as Gwen got used to the intense pulsation happening on her clit. Each orgasm sent her head back or down – her arms and legs pulling hopelessly against its bonds.

… until.

M produced a second remote – something Gwen forgot was attached.


“FMMMMMMMMMMMMARGPH” M deciphered as “FUCK” within Gwen’s leather hood. Her head shaking violently as she let loose an intense orgasm at the exact same time – squirting all over her, the chair, the floor. The shudders continued for several seconds as the recessed bullet and shock collar were turned off.

Gwen’s breathing was very heavy at this point. M carefully as her trembling became slightly more manageable and her heaving chest came back to normal. M’s big smile couldn’t be seen by his helpless captive, but she was completely lost within herself to realize whatever the fuck was going on.

Her leather head drooped forward as she continued to focus on her breathing. Her pussy throbbing, her thigh shaking still at the shock that passed through it from the collar affixed around her upper leg. She tried to reign in order internal voices – as the hood was helping her fixate on just herself and nothing else around her.

M placed the remotes back in his pocket as he went over to her with a fixed length of rope. Feeding the rope through Gwen’s clenched PVC taped hands, her hands were going to be leading her for this next segment. Oblivious to anything else going on – she barely noticed anything was happening to her hands.

He quickly undid the chain binding her to her chair. Her wetness was quite evident as was her scent as the ceiling fan gently carried that smell throughout the room. A fix-lengthed hobble was attached to her ankles to continue the feel of bondage. Thankfully there wouldn’t be a need for many steps – though she probably couldn’t walk very far anyway.

He unfastened the leather cuffs from the chair – and affixed another fix-length hobble between her taped hands. Clearly she wasn’t going to need this chain either – but like with everything he does: has a purpose.

M pulled her from her seat – carefully letting her steady herself into him. Cold streams trace down her quivering legs. She couldn’t manage a step. She forgot how. Gwen’s world was swirling as she has no concept of how anything is happening in the world right now. Her mind is devoid of thought, her sense of feeling maxed out completely after the waves of orgasm and the startling life altering shock that sent everything through the roof.

Somehow M managed to get her on the bed and laying down almost exactly where he wanted her. She was oblivious how this happened except to later note: “Holy fuck I’m on the bed – how the hell did that happen?” Her legs continue to shake, her cunt throbbing, her hands almost spastic. She welcomed the release on the bed and how it felt to be in a laying position versus the chair. He had threatened to have her on her toes – but the addition of the shock collar put a kabosh on that idea.

M got in bed behind her. She remained slightly oblivious except for the fact his cock was pretty evident on her backside. She moaned at that discovery and slowly she became to realize her surroundings once again. Gwen’s hands were drawn together by the rope – but her arms were relatively free to do as she wanted.

“Rest my pet.” M said lightly against her head, positioning his cheek against her leather covered ear. She reacted slightly – almost getting nestled into a spot after being thoroughly spent into her orgasmic release. M drew a sheet over her – for which she was immensely grateful for.

She attempted to draw her hands up to her hood – as though to signal for it to come off. Oh how she wanted to be free and in the open – to allow for kisses, water and fresh air.

“Sorry my pet,” M dashed her dreams, “you’re not done by a long shot.”


Dissecting the sadist

There’s the sadist

… and then there’s the beast.

The sadist is very intense and would be easily classified as: “someone who enjoys his job a little too well.”

…the beast rips pretty things and doesn’t give a flying fuck what happens.

The sadist knows the beast – and holds the keys to the cage. He’s trusted to keep the breast locked away because – you don’t want the beast.

In trying to understand the two halves, it became apparent just how much the sadist has so much fun. There’s an intensity. There’s connection and that allows an orchestra of moans and screams to happen while the canvas is splashed, sliced and otherwise bruised in synchronicity. There’s a soundtrack that goes through his mind, wielded by his hands, canes, whips or any other instrument of choice – carefully drawing out each instrument whose sound echos through the hallowed halls.

There’s an adventure to be had. A dance. A cause and reaction type of exchange that happens when the slice burns into the skin slightly leaving its curved mark that graced the pristine canvas. I’ve previously coined my sadist similar to taking a “magic carpet ride” exploring many different avenues – different edges all within the confines of all things familiar. Each scene is different in their own right, almost like creating a new painting from the same brushes and paints.

It’s the energy. It’s the combination of the experience, the implements, the method, the screams, the reaction that culminates the energy spectrum. It’s wonderful immersing in that experience and sharing in it like a dance. It’s wonderful.

Then there’s the beast ….

… which is a whole other thing altogether.

The single most important part with the beast is having an established, repeating that – an establishedconsensual non-consent relationship before unlocking the beast from his cage. Engaging him – requires the beforehand, accepting one’s fate and knowledge that he’s going to tear you apart. No. He’s not going to rip your arm out of your sockets or kick your teeth out or decapitate you … but he is going to harm you physically and emotionally.

Safewords won’t matter to the beast, but familiarity will. That’s why it’s important to have an established connection with the sadist before hand. A critically hard limit might entice the beast – but he also is aware that there’s a strong likelihood that crossing that hard limit may cause damage – irreparable damage – and if that happens then he can’t play with his toys anymore … hence – the familiarity component is an essential one in many regards. As irrational as the beast may appear – he’s obsessively calculated in what he does as well. That’s why it’s important to have the connection before even thinking about trying to invite the beast out.

The beast uses all your weaknesses, insecurities, irrational thoughts and ideas against you. He lives to crush your world from the inside out so the only thing left is to rebuild your world from scratch. That’s his meal – that’s his goal – that’s the part that satiates him – satisfies him.

“Should you be afraid?”


“But … but … but?”  I know. But here’s the deal: the beast doesn’t come out unless the sadist deems it okay. He’s doesn’t slip out very often – and even then – the sadist was quick to pounce and draw the beast back in. The beast doesn’t emerge out in the open in dungeons or play parties. In fact it’s pretty rare he surfaces at all. He very likely will never emerge in open spaces because that’s not conducive for him. “Too many witnesses,” he’d chuckle.

Some have been very curious about the beast. Some even want to find the beast – to see him – to poke him – to surrender to him. I understand the curiosity – but he’s contained for a reason. He’s kept locked away – for a reason.

“But that’s abuse!”

Maybe for you – and that’s okay. In no way am I trying to convince you that the sadist or the beast may be your cup of tea. It’s also apparent that it wouldn’t be a good pairing ether, so you have nothing to worry about.

“But we have to save danae!”

She’ll probably respond back: “No you don’t have to!!  Really!!” danae has come into this knowing, craving and wanting the beast. She doesn’t need saving – and would likely say: “shoo, shoo, I’m having fun now.”

“It’s people like you that give the lifestyle a bad name.”

Alright. Guilty? As long as we’re going to put forth all the negative “bad name” stuff – then we need to start having THAT conversation because at least I’m very upfront about the sadist and beast. There’s a lot of things that give the lifestyle a bad name – but having an informed upfront discussion about one’s sadist and beast won’t be one of them.

Which is the premise behind this post.

It’s about the perceived levels by which we do things in the lifestyle. It brings out the darkness within – and even teases us into going darker, going further, going deeper. My sadist and beast have a working understanding with one another that happens to work well for them.

I also understand the concerns, complaints and criticisms about engaging on such a level. I accept them. I’m not trying to change your mind about them. I’m merely being open and upfront about them.

They exist.

He exists.

Pushing through boundaries


That thing that stares back at us when we’re staring into the mirror.

“What the fuck are you doing? This is insane.”

Yet the dark unseen forces in our psyche keep drawing us into these precarious places. Places we would never contemplate existed much less believe we’d ever be involved with. Places we wouldn’t dream of – because, they seem really insane when we think of it.

Yet …

We go to those dark places.

Is it really insane? No. When we start comparing our “dark places” to an equally “insane” vanilla activity – we don’t blink an eye as we normally just chalk it up to: “adrenaline junkies just getting their fix.” Well … in a way that’s what I think we’re doing too when we go to the same “insane” bin.

So if folks can fall out of a plane or ride their bikes on non-existent trails at very high velocities – then I’m not really feeling that insane because my adrenaline rush just happens to be codified a little bit differently in comparison. We’re just as normal (or not) as the next guy.

But is there a line? That line too far? Yes, of course there is. Just like in anything else in life, anything to excess can be a bad thing. Too much smoking? Too much drinking? Pushing that envelope too far? Driving too fast? Waiting until that last possible second to deploy your chute? Bad stuff happens.

We all have natural instincts and a healthy sense of self preservation. We also sometimes have the urge to keep going, go further, faster, deeper. That too is natural. Why? Because we dream. Sometimes those dreams can get very extreme. Ever look up “dolcett images” in the Google Image search engine will know exactly what I’m talking about.

Just because we dream it – doesn’t necessarily mean we need to do it.

Sure there are going to be some adventurous souls that try breast hanging and probably a few souls that have tried to practice suspension play using their cocks. That’s also why the ER staff has “seen it all” because when we’re dreaming, some times we don’t always make the best decision.

So. Just because we see it, we witness it, we dream it, doesn’t mean everyone NEEDS to do it. Do what you want, how you want – no biggie. See? Crisis averted.

But how far is too far?

I’m a planner. Part of my erotic fix is for me to plan things out in my mind. Anticipating problems. Figuring out areas that things can go wrong. Plan for those things – and map out how I want them to go. First rule is: nothing will ever go according to plan. There will be at least some damn thing that will not go according to Hoyle. And that’s okay – that’s why we plan things out as we try to conceive the outcomes and account for the probability of things going wrong. It’s okay.

So – you have a good plan, now you need to practice. This takes some time and it takes a lot of patience. Wielding a whip for the first time or doing breath play as someone new – it’s very nerve racking. GO SLOW, be patient and most importantly LEARN. Get feedback, get criticisms, get a summary of how things went – what went right, what didn’t go right. Always be in learning mode. It helps the sadist get better.

On the bottom side of things, it’s sometimes impossible to articulate “OUCH HOLY MOTHER F**CKER OF ALL THINGS CHEESY!” That’s not effective feedback. Things like: “stingy has hell on the back, but felt great on my ass” is pretty darn good feedback. It let’s the top know how it felt and what kind of sensation it was and why it was different in regions on the body.

As we increase our abilities and learn new tortures, feedback becomes even more important. Some tops may actually begin to sense what the bottom is going through because of how their body reacts. Levels of pain can be measured and calculated. Watching their breathing, listening to their moans, watching their fingers, their hands, their expression – reveals a tremendous amount of non-verbal communication.

How far can we go? The better question is: how far do we want to go?

Sadists can deliver incredible amounts of pain to shoot someone off the table. It doesn’t necessarily mean we should deliver those body crushing blows – but that’s an option for us. Every sadist, every masochist, every top and bottom are going to be vastly different in what they can handle and what they want. Developing effective synergy takes a long time and a lot of all that communication and understanding covered up above.

We have to know where those lines CAN exist for us – knowing that they might be moved in or moved out – all depending. There’s no rule that says someone has to endure the dreaded cane until their ass bleeds crimson. Now for danae – that might cause her to squirm excitedly, but it doesn’t mean that everyone is going to be gleefully looking forward to that. Which is why it’s important to know and communicate to the best of your ability where those lines are.

Should those lines be pushed? That’s up to each of us. Some might go: “flogged by chain wasn’t that bad, let’s do the jumper cables next time.” (okay – bad example) But you could have someone that thinks they have a no paddle rule – then someone comes along that gives them a different perspective of the paddle that wasn’t quite so daunting. In fact, they enjoyed the experience and wouldn’t mind experiencing it again some time.

That’s acceptable. That’s allowed.

Other lines that someone can’t cross – should be respected as such. Just because YOU don’t think there’s an issue with the way you administer a spanking doesn’t mean it’s going to work for everyone. We all have various issues, traumas and baggage we deal with where something like a spanking could send someone spiraling into a very negative experience. Get to know that BEFORE you do it. Respect it if it’s a line.

Ultimately it comes down to communication and a willingness, desire and craving to do more. The lifestyle is full of wonderful creative ideas. Some of those ideas get us in trouble – but we can still live some of them out if we take the necessary steps to ensure a methodical path to that goal.

Be patient.

And apply.

Your most you … Know Thyself – revisisted

In 2013, I authored Know Thyself in an attempt to inspire us to really examine knowing who we are – more than trying to focus our energies at finding someone who is most compatible with us. It’s been a staple belief of mine. If we don’t understand who we are – then we are destined to lead a fabrication, a lie – not just to ourselves, but to those we are with.

In retrospect of that post – I’ve come away with another revising attribute that I neglected to mention before.

Sometimes we try to convince ourselves of one thing – but we’re really this entire other person over here. Meaning, we shift. We all do it. We take an idea – something we may even aspire to become, but we try to shift ourselves into that role. Sometimes it’s a clean move – and other times, it’s like having an out of body experience.

What I’m talking about is trying to pretend you’re a doctor when you have absolutely no credentials or experience being one. The gig eventually gives out because someone at some point is going to go: “Hey, you’re not a doctor…”

This goes for a lot of segments in life. Whether it’s mono/poly – D/s, M/s …. it’s forever reaching.

Knowing yourself – means that you don’t get to pretend to be doctor because you want to – or because that’s what you think others want you to be. It’s a sure fire way you can really fuck up people’s lives when you do that.

Be … yourself … don’t pretend. Don’t try to change who you are for someone. Simply be at your most calm, your most centered, your most you.