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The Adventures Of Ri Dickulous

Trust, Peace, and Centered
Used With Permission

It’s been requested of me that I write about my experience with this scene I had with MaillerPhong last night.

Earlier in the day I suggested that I would like some pain with an anal hook in place for our play later in the evening. Apparently, when a good slut asks, she receives in full.

After much running around in quiet preparation, I was asked, “What would you like out of this scene?” “To dance with you. Lead and I will follow.”

Cloth wrapped my head, covering my eyes. I didn’t have the heart to admit that I could still see below, but for the most part I simply obeyed the thought and kept my eyes tightly shut.

The music was loud enough that most audible details were lost, except for a few. The rush of rope as it was opened from the hank cued me to raise my arms and grab hold of the thick steel ring hanging above my head. It felt good to hang on for the beginning of the ride, wrap after wrap of jute pressing into my skin like a tight band constricting my breath and movement.

The rest, much like a dance, becomes a whirlwind blur of bliss in beatings. I was pushed to the open wall, told to arch, push my ass out, and a wide variety of sensations ensued.

Some of the sensations were familiar. The flick, kiss, and sting of a dragon tail. The thick thud and wide dispersal of a paddle against my already tender spots. A belt, which I mistook for the paddle at first.

Then something spikey, that felt incredibly odd when pulled across my skin and even weirder when it was used as an impact implement.

That was the warm up. Jute wraps again, this time binding my breasts tightly and connecting to the thick metal ring above in case I should fall. More wraps, now around my waist and connecting to another hard piece of metal pressed up against the pucker of my ass. I cried out, too much, though I wanted to be readily accepting. The endeavors of the day previous had left me feeling a tad raw, and I requested the smaller hook.

Upon the smooth entry, everything changed. “Just right.” Every impact and sensation delivered to my ass after that moment seemed magnified ten fold. A slap of the hand jostled the plush and meat of my ass, shaking everything around the only stationary point of the cold metal between my cheeks. All of the nerve endings fired, reminding me with every strike that it was there.

For the life of me I wish I could remember all the intimate little details for each and every individual toy and how I felt inside of my head at the strikes, but honestly I felt overwhelmed. So much so, in fact, that one specific thing I remember is being struck with rhythmic frequency on either side of my ass (though I can’t remember by what) that I felt my body quake. I had already orgasmed several times simply by pain, and then by insertion into my ass.

He had even gone back previously into the other room to retrieve a vibrator and bring another sort of attention to the filling cold metal inside of me. Holding my hands against the wall was the only thought that kept me from convulsing completely against him and his tools.

The full bodied quaking orgasm after these first few was different. I lost myself, completely. Suddenly my knees buckled, a scream of pleasure erupted from my throat like the bellows of an opera singer belting out over top of the crescendo, and my vaginal lips erupted like a geyser. I didn’t mean to, I swear, and I felt so guilty as my fluids dripped along the inside of my thighs and I tried to keep them from hitting the floor with my hands. Where my hands had been previously placed on the wall, my face now occupied to keep my body from falling.

I came with a fierce passion that I had only ever felt once before with anal play. He gave me some paper towels to clean myself, and I held them against my pussy as he began to beat me again. Each strike reminded me of the occupancy within my cavity, and I erupted again, this time completely soaking the handful of towels I had pressed against my lips. Another set of towels, and I soaked them again.

Everything was awash in endorphins, and I couldn’t help but be embarrassed but pleased with how hard I had orgasmed from the pain and surrender of opening my ass in impact play. I had only ever orgasmed like that once before, and there was a day in advance warm up for the previous experience.

Last night I think it would be accurate to attribute my heavy orgasms to all of the combined sensations of my ass being filled, and then each impact having attention drawn to the stiff metal and increased by the simple act of holding station within that opened orifice.

And here I thought I was a hard bottom. Little did I know that all I needed was to have that bottom opened up by a wonderful asshook and then add impact play to turn me into a Ri puddle.

By the very end, Mailler asked me what three words I would use to describe what I was feeling.

“Trust, peace, and centered.”

In trusting him, I found peace by losing myself centered within my bodily pain and pleasure.

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