topthemonkey

Recently we were at our local dungeon and the Top expressed an interest in using the fucking machine, which looks like this. We hadn't played at all yet that night. Neither of us had ever seen the fucking machine used before. Depending on who is there, you either use your own dildo or put a condom over one of theirs. The Top and I looked at the very limited supply of vac-u-lock dildos. There were more, but nobody there knew precisely where they were kept. It didn't really matter though, because there was this lovely dildo and we purchased that. The Top wanted to use it immediately.

We went to the medical room, the Top got the fucking machine and set it up on the bed. There was a young man sitting across from us and watching us set up, which made me slightly uncomfortable but I didn't want to say anything. The Top ordered me to strip and position myself on my back. I put down a sheet first. I had gotten some water-based lube from one of the safer sex stations, as we had not brought any of our own, and the Top put some of it on my vagina.

Then he basically shoved the dildo inside me with the fucking machine on a very low setting. I gasped, as this was a bit sudden. I told him that it would have been helpful if he had warmed me up a bit first, so he took the dildo out and started to finger fuck me. It was very uncomfortable: he had not trimmed his nails recently, they were pretty long; he wasn't wearing a glove; he wasn't easing me into it at all (which sometimes is fine, but this time it wasn't). It just felt very cold, but not in that hot, I'm going to use you kind of way. So that pretty much just sucked. He stopped and inserted the dildo again, and started the machine on a low setting.

It was really nice. I'm not 100% sure of the order of events, so perhaps the Top can chime in here. I do recall the following things happened: he rubbed my clit a lot; at some point he sucked on my clit; people came in and out of the room; some people stopped and watched; he knelt by my head, fucked my mouth in a way that really hurt my jaw, and jerked off on my chest; and I rubbed my own clit.

At some point he turned the machine up and it was even better. He gave me the control so I could try different settings myself. I had to ask him at least once to add more lube. One time he dripped some water on the area to reactivate the water-based lube, but it was so much water that it soaked the sheet beneath me and was really uncomfortable. At a certain point I told him I wanted to try to orgasm without clitoral stimulation. This MIGHT have worked but there was an electrical burning smell (which turned out to be from the people using the TES unit nearby) and the Top wanted to stop, so we did.

I just sort of laid there for several minutes after, drinking water, breathing deeply, trying to collect myself. When I felt more stable I stumbled naked to the bathroom with my underwear and cleaned up. The Top's cum had dripped into my hair and dried there and the smell was really bothering me so I used the sink to wash my hair. I was really worn out emotionally and physically so we spent the rest of the night in the social area, just sitting on the couches and chatting. I was honestly ready to leave after I finished cleaning myself up, but the Top wanted to stay and help clean up the dungeon after play, which we ended up doing.

The whole thing was very intense and made me feel really vulnerable. Several times I was on the verge of tears, but not because of sadness or happiness. The Top has difficulty understanding this, but from conversations with others I don't think it's so unusual.

The Top really wanted me to have a clitoral orgasm and was disappointed that I didn't. I had several g-spot orgasms, which I almost NEVER have, and I'm sure I would have ejaculated a lot if I had pulled the dildo out at the right time, but I decided against that. I'm not sorry I didn't have any clitoral orgasms, because I loved it and it's not like I can never use the thing again.

Unfortunate outcome: the seal around the base of the dildo took such a beating it's starting to come apart. Not sure if this matters.


THINGS I WOULD DO DIFFERENTLY NEXT TIME:
-Get straws for the water bottles.
-Put the water bottles on the floor next to the bed, not on the mattress.
-Put down more than one sheet.
-Have a blindfold and earplugs handy, though I don't think I'd want to use both of them the entire time.
-Bring rope so I can be tied down at least somewhat and have something to grab onto.
-Ask the Top to use gloves the whole time.
-Foreplay.

This started as a reply to a comment to the Top's entry here, but regarding both of our entries concerning our trip to the dungeon. I felt it deserved its own post.

Our relationship and aspects thereof tends to be misunderstood in a few different ways by friends and acquaintences, usually depending on their level of interest/involvement/experience in bdsm. The misunderstandings of vanilla friends and acquantiences tend to be those that most any kinky couple would encounter: issues of consent, abuse, that sort of thing. Once you get to the kinky folks though, it gets a bit more varied. Often the authenticity of a D/s or M/s relationship is judged by the degree of (perceived) control the upper-case partner has over the lower-case one. This brings me to the comment.


No, zie did not question the authenticity of our relationship. Zie did, however, bring up some issues regarding the power distribution and control within the relationship. Summarizing, zie said that the two entries read like a power struggle between us, gave the impression that I didn't enjoy the trip, was bitter, and that because the Top controls me, I feel it's my right to control other things, at the cost of my submission to the Top.


Control is an issue in anyone's life, to a certain extent, and the Top and I have our own, ah, quirks in this regard. When either of us feels very anxious and/or overwhelmed, our instinct is to exert control over those areas which we can control. I think this is typical of most people. At my most unhealthy, this manifests as an urge to self-harm. At my most healthy, this manifests as an urge to clean. The M/s nature of our relationship adds an interesting layer to all this.

Technically, being a slave and all, whatever control I have in my life is the Top's choice. He has not set any parameters like "I will never exert control over your professional life" or such, though I know of M/s couples where this is the case. We navigate together and often there is compromise, which I'm sure many people feel does not belong in a relationship such as ours. I strive to always be conscious of the Top's needs and wants and to put those before my own. The Top strives to take mine into consideration, and do what he feels is best.

The Top wants to be kept abreast of my feelings/emotions as they occur. I am not allowed to lie to him. More than honesty, he wants transparency. It is then his choice what he does with the information. If he wants me to do something, asks me how I feel, and I tell him I don't want to do it, he can order me or let it go. I earnestly want to serve the Top, submit to him, please him. That doesn't mean I'm never going to have any other feelings, just that I try to voice but not act on them.


So no, I'm not bitter at all, yes, I enjoyed myself very much once we actually started playing. There was no power struggle in the entries or in real life, there never has been.

The monkey and I have joined our local dungeon/play space. We went to orientation earlier this week where we toured the facility (but didn't play because the monkey had forgotten his ID), and last night, we used the place for the first time.

I should mention that when I met the monkey two years ago, playing in public was very much a hard limit. I wouldn't say "very much." Some time at a fetish con, and living with a few kink-friendly people have changed that somewhat, but a new place with new people is still a stressful experience.

We got there around eight, after having dinner with incredibly slow service in a normally-good Mexican chain, but the monkey was having a bizarre personal fixation problem: he wanted a new pair of shoes, because he's been stubbing his toes rather a lot lately. In fact, he had been obsessing over this for most of the evening, despite the fact that I felt he wouldn't be wearing them most of the time. In my own entry I'll explain this. Anyway, after signing in, we ran out again to do this:we were in an unfamiliar area, and finding a shoe store proved rather stressful. We eventually found a PayLess, but I'm generally not a fan since they tend to fall apart. The monkey did his usual retail-female-uncertainty thing, trying on several pairs of open-toed things and mid-height heels (I did not try on any open-toed, and I wasn't being uncertain I was trying to find a pair that fit) (neither of which would do anything to offset the accident-proneness), and we eventually settled on a nice set of male dress shoes for him.

I got him back to the playspace, stripped him to his underwear, took his glasses, and put him into a small floor-cage while I went and used the bathroom. I took out some toys and laid them out on a chair and on top of the cage, and went and attached one half of our suspension cuffs to some ceiling-chains that were nearby. I exposed his back, and his butt, and got going.

However, after bare-handing him a few times, I started to see the angry expression: the expression that shows the monkey's going to break, going to snap and take an alternate, Sybil-like tone, and get aggressive with me. He growled a few times. I pushed a bit, encouraged him to communicate more, told him it could stop any time, and we kept going. I used a crop, a rod (both very nice things), as well as both of my deerskin floggers on him. (I love this new flogger, it's just so pretty. I really need to put a picture of it up here at some point.¹.) He told me that his arms were tired (I said my shoulders were starting to hurt and I'm trying to be more conscious of such things since I've started regularly going to a chiropractor), and he needed something to lean against, and I moved him over to a very heavy St. Andrews Cross: really well made, with adjustable restraint points. I put the suspension cuffs up on those, and as his tits were just straddling the "X", put a set of clamps on those as well, so if he backed off, the chain would tug. I continued flogging, quite hard, with the Big Flogger, really developing a good rhythm and form.², moving along to my other toys, the rubber one occasionally, covering his entire back side pretty well. I wasn't going for catharsis or anything like that, but it got to the point where I could hear him sobbing, and I looked and found his nose runny. I got him some tissues and let him down, and after some brief cleanup we headed to the "cooldown area", a lounge of sorts, and met some of the group. The timeline there is a little messed up. I was crying a good portion of the time I was on the cross, the Top knew and asked me if I wanted to continue and I said I did.

I cannot express enough how awesome and comfortable these people made me feel. While I of course don't mention names (hell, even our own), it was a very friendly, fun crowd, easily relatable, and very accommodating. I got a chance to play show and tell with our suspension cuffs, and tell brag about the deal we got on them, and the like.

After some others proceeded in for another round of playing, we did too. This time we wound up in the "medical play" room, where I tied the monkey to a stirrup table with a plethora of a rope, put a spreader bar between his legs, and gagged him with a roll of vetwrap (as in, just popped the roll in his mouth). This is the condensed version. A few people walked through the room while we were going at it, all were respectful, none conversed unless I started it, but I tend to like over-the-shoulder conversation. At one point, a couple giving a tour peeked quietly in. The Top waved at them. It was very surreal.

We hadn't brought any lube, or a vibrator, unfortunately: I had told the monkey to, but he had felt that he wouldn't be at that level of comfort on this trip. Consequently the only lube we had was some SurgiLube that was already there, and I worked him up for what was probably close to 45 minutes before he dried out and my arm started getting tired. He tried to tell me through the gag that he needed more lube and how to better finger-fuck me, but I was trying to be cautious as we'd never used this product before. He seemed okay with it, so I slathered it in, and went back at it. Another few minutes of (ahem) deep tissue massage, and he was ready to come. However, I need to mention something here...when I thought he was getting close, I *ordered* him to come, and he did, within a few seconds. This...amazes me. It's been a stressor before, both for him and for me, gives him performance anxiety, and he handled it so well. I think a big factor in that is I'm trying to let myself go and be more obvious when I feel myself getting close and the Top has also gotten better at picking up on when I'm on the verge of orgasm.

Again, cleanup. Again, back out to the cooldown area. The ride home was nice, too, we talked a lot. I shared some radically honest things about an ex, and the best sex we had ever had (the ex and I). I also related that because this dungeon requires condoms for vaginal and anal penetration, that I didn't think I'd be having much sex there. I revealed to the monkey that there's a loss of some sensation since my hernia surgery. Not a lot...just coupled with the additional loss of sensation of a condom, it's just not...nice. I like the closeness of flesh on flesh; I think once the monkey gets his wisdom teeth out and his TMJ under better control, we may do more oral there.

Thoughts for future visits:

1. I need some kind of transporable gear carrier. I ideally like the "street salesman" case, a suitcase with unfoldable legs type thing, but other things are workable and my mind's now going at it. I am in favor of buying a case from For Your Nymphomation, perhaps this. Or just a good duffel bag.
2. The lockers they have there are just a few inches too short for some of our impact toys. But they bend.
3. Other people I'm working with have expressed nervousness at public play but feelings of being okay with being a helper, one to go get water and get me toys, and otherwise observe. I'm thinking a blue play-collar (get it?) for this purpose might be great. Oh look, sub-shop's having a sale, and this is on sale too.
4. Buying some food in advance. I'm thinking hitting the nearby subway would have probably been a good idea. This kind of stuff is exhausting. I really only like Subway sandwiches immediately after they're made. Otherwise the dressing soaks in and it's oogy.
5. Other things, I'm sure. Things the monkey will add, I'm sure.

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1. Hell, I need to have one of the slaves photo-catalogue all our toys here, and rate them on cost, history, and pain factor.
2. I believe flogging is somewhat an art and a technique, and I'd actually like to make up a flogger Kata