The unholy land

I've seen some documentaries on BDSM and fetishes. And the ones I've seen are skewed. They are made to give the mainstream a view without freaking them out more than they already are. It's an attempt at an erotic asmoush boush ….right? Freaky can be fun, your boyfriend's whispered desire to pee on you in the shower could be sexy foreplay. Ageism, food, pony play, needles, hog tying, its all a bit scary to a missionary, it's even a bit scary to a baby sick fuck. But sense baby sick fuck is the operative phrase, curiosity trumps taboo.

Today we were having a bbq, (im a bit of a liar….this is actually the prequel to the previous entry). It was the usual: me, sick fuck, Stephan, and that guitar guy. I was in the kitchen making a salad with my darling sick fuck. I was chop chop chopping away like a good little house guest should. SF and Stephan had done the shopping earlier, they bought meat for kebobs and veggies including some small sweet peppers. I got to lay around….who says a sub has to be the slave? (Actually, they were just having mercy on me, because I was a bit hung-over. Beer- liquor-beer-liquor is not the combo my liver prefers.) I was enjoying my salad making duties while my cutest enjoyed the view. I was instructed to keep my skirt hiked up around my waist….unnerving to think of someone walking in, but this was all part of the mind fuck. I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a small orange pepper being washed in the sink and then felt the damp hands on my ass. I was told, quietly, to spread my legs. Without turning around or pausing the knife, I obeyed. I heard the subtle smacking of lips and in the next second felt the tip of a certain saliva lubed piece of produce at my already wet pussy. Hot breath in my ear instructed me to make sure this did not fall out of me, until I was told to remove it. I nodded, gasping as it entered, smooth, cold, and oh so risqué. I held my legs together once the vag plug had been placed, fearful that it might shoot out like a bullet triggered from my nice girl sensabilities. When my sick fuck wasn’t looking I would slip my hand between my legs to check to see if it was there, pushing it up a little from the slow slide. As the time past and after multiple inquiries from my dom to see if I was behaving I reported with pride that it was in and I had managed to confine it to my fuck hole without incident. He wanted a look-see, or I should say….a finger exam.
This is the moment that they don’t show in the movies.
One swift scene… fingers in, sliding out, and motioning me to the next room. He says that we need to take it out…it's in a bit too far. Ok, I am mostly sure of what I sign up for. I am no idiot, but it the moments of hormone overtures, and animal desire, I forget the overcautious nature I was raised with…the fucking pepper was now deep in my tunnel and I was on the quick ascend to freaking out. I laid on the guest bed, or was actually almost pushed. The fingers were in again, this time with my legs in the air and my breath growing shorter, and not from ecstasy. I was scared but confident in my caretaker, until….he left the room and the orange alien remained nested. His panic swallowed the room as he exited and I could only tighten like the assaulted, I am sure, squeezing that god forsaken vegetable up into my ovaries. He returned, of course, but I could not look at the possible solution he had come up with. Now, with his head deep, and stirrups as the only thing missing, I can begin to feel the hope of returning to empty. My hands burry my face and there were some strange pains. He told me its coming, like a food baby I wish I could have aborted some time ago. His relief washed over me while I smeared my tears away. He covered me with himself and intentions gone wrong. Nothing could be more opposite of sexy.
But you should remember, I am a baby sick fuck, and I am led by the best. So, when the trauma settled, I suggested we put that mind fucking pepper in the salad.

Today we were sitting around , my sick fuck, his dear and dirty friend Stephan, and I, being lazy post bbq, cocktails and an impromptu jam session with some guy who left a bit ago. I was cuddled up in my darling dom's lap. I had on a cute sundress and nothing else. I grabbed a nearby blanket to cover my legs so that Stephan, sitting across from us on the couch, didn't get a sneak peak at my freshly shave pussy. The idea arose that Stephan finish reading me the story that he had written for this very website. I had heard the first two segments and so far there had been one woman, two men and a shit load of humiliation. It was something that didn't arouse me much, but the promise was that the third and final act would make my auditory patience worthwhile. I prepared my anticipation. My sick fuck tapped my ass, to shift me a little and in the process pulled the bottom of my dress up around my hips. His friend, unnoticing pulled his story to the screen. I crept the blanket higher, nervous and blushing, and gave my love a serious and questioning look. As Stephan began to read my darling slipped his fingers between my thighs, nudging them apart. His fingers found me, already wet, and I tried to keep my breath steady. I was instructed, through a whisper in my ear to make sure I paid attention to the reading. It was this combination of attention to so many variables that had my clit on fire aching with each swirl of those delicious fingers. The plot thickened for the characters on the page with something about keys in a dumpster and a knotted rope of old plastic grocery bags shove d up the woman's ass and pulled intently out. My fear of being discovered grew with my desire to cum. I could hardly tell if Stephan was oblivious to what was happening 7ft away from him or if he was keeping a provoked hard-on a secret as to not ruin the moment. My controller was enjoying himself, this I knew even before the sly smile crept on the sides of his mouth. His fingers were playing me perfectly, and my legs began to quiver. I had no control of this and the fear grew, sure I was to be found out. By now the blanket is up at my neck, as if the higher it rose the more it would conceal, when really I was probably at risk of exposing myself from the bottom. I managed to keep my voice steady with verbal affirmations that I understood the story and what was going on, while my body was near explosion. The blanket raising had become a bit suspicious and Stephan asked if I was cold. I shook my head, praying he wouldn't notice my shaking knees, and he continued to read. I was dripping now and could hold it no more. I was afraid that if I let go and cum I might scream. Then I remembered that when I masturbate at home I keep quiet so that my house mates can't hear, and I used this for inspiration. I nuzzled my sick fuck and whispered that my orgasm was coming now, half telling, half asking permission. He looked at me, pleased, and nodded. I laid my head on his shoulder, while he finished me and Stephan finished the page. My orgasm rolled on me like freight train and I made every effort to paralyze my body. With only the smallest shudder and the slightest change of breath I came so hard my soul bent. Stephan's words continued as I pulled my darling's hand from my now soaking pussy. I collapsed slowly into, what felt like, a pile the size of a child. Stephan finished shortly after I did and asked me if I like it. I told him it was the best part of the three segments I had heard, and my sick fuck assured him that I loved it. I did, because I am a baby sick fuck.