“You need something inside you…”
We hadn’t been alone for more than ten minutes when V said this. Sure there was some kissing and groping – that is, she claimed my mouth and hurt my cockflesh while I gasped and squirmed beneath her – but once I was collared, naked, and under her thumb, she wasted no time stuffing my hole.
Though I’m already an anal slut, the way V went about filling me up was addictive and fed into my already needy, whining state. Specifically, she introduced a ‘largish’ plug right away and used it to stretch me out. Of course, large is a subjective term when it comes to anal sex toys, but the plug was large for me, and it hurt. The way V hurt and stretched my boy cunt left me craving more.
Not having been plugged or fucked in months, I was nervous about what felt like so much so soon. Though well lubed, the plug burned like a motherfucker going in. Immediately, I was gasping and wishing it was smaller. Funny how that works because a few hours later I’d be wishing it was larger. However, I wasn’t in subspace yet, and the pain had a sharp bite to it. The risk of tearing is always in the back of my mind. But V’s warm, soothing voice soon seduced me into enduring whatever she wanted.
I’m extremely auditory, and the right words have a way of searing a moment into my memory. And as I’ve said before, V has a very sexy voice. And it just so happens, she’s not at all shy about telling a boy how much she enjoys fucking and hurting him. As soon as V began pushing the plug in, she began to talk. And she kept on, talking me through every burning inch.
She told me how she loves watching it go in, knowing it was stretching me out, and then kept up a steady stream of sweet humiliation while relentlessly shoving the thick plug into my asshole. Despite my whining, she kept it there. Lips brushing my ear, she used that silky voice to convince me I could take more. As I surrendered to the hurt, she told me I was a good boy – two words which seldom fail to make me blush and glow.
That evening, there were several other hot and somewhat painful moments involving ass play. Like the first time she fucked me with her strapon, or the way she repeatedly stuffed me with a fat steel plug before slowly removing it. There was more…which I’ll get around to talking about at some point.
But the first few moments of her stretching my hole are forever imprinted into my long-term memory . V’s eagerness to have something inside me, the sound of her voice, and her sweet, sadistic, and relentlessly dominant energy all combined to create a moment I return to time after time.
It’s like this with lifestyle BDSM, a single moment becoming a kind of metaphor for the day-to-day of things.
I crave that feeling of being hurt by her and enduring for her as I’m filled up and used. I want to have to bend to her will, trust her experience, and surrender to the sensation of being claimed. I leak precum thinking of the way she told me to take it like a good little bitch before wrapping me up and stretching me wider. That is such a precious feeling, to be safe in the softness and strength of her arms even as my hole burns and throbs.
It leaves me forever aching for more.