things that spoil it
One of my new obsessions in food are these tasty popsicles that Trader Joe’s carries. Knock-off frozfruit bars, basically. I love them. I eat them all the time. However, every time I mention that I’m eating a popsicle, Sir snickers at me over the phone.
Everyone has hangups, things that happened in the past that don’t really go away. People in the scene are not different. Everyone has something they did once that they didn’t like.
Me? Foreign object insertion.
Sir LOVES to make fun of me for this one. It isn’t really so dire or negative, it’s just turned me off from sticking objects in my cunny.
When I was first starting out in BDSM and searching for someone who had experience, I met up with an odd bird of a guy. 32. He lived alone, and seemed very self contained. No pictures, not a lot of personal effects. He lived in an apartment building and was very self conscious about noise. So he’d always blast classical music during our scenes.
I’ll talk about him more in my ‘points of origin’ series, but the main bit of the story is that one day, while hogtied and naked, we experimented with object insertion. He had a mattress on the floor, we weren’t in a bed or anything. At first, it was just toys and vibrators, which I was fine with.
Then I felt something big and COLD press up against my pussy. It was cold, and painful, and sticky. It was one of those pops that come in the yellow box. You know what I mean. It melted quickly, from my arousal and from it being warm in his apartment. I bucked and shrieked, not caring if my noises weren’t being sufficiently covered by the music. It was SO fucking painful, even though I was going numb.
He fucked it in and out of me a few times, as much as he could. Then, he pulled it out and stuck the mess in my mouth. I tried to be a good girl, tried to relax, but it wasn’t helping.
I was shaken, the popscicle a temporary gag in my mouth, as I felt something else pressing up against my cunt. I didn’t know what it was, I spit out the popscicle and gave in, shrieking the safeword, physically shaking at this point. Piano sonatas still playing to futilely cover up the noise. He fumbled with the knots while was freaking out, but then he pulled out his safety shears and cut me out. I was still shaking as he carried me over to a chair and sat me in his lap, patting my back and waiting for me to calm down. I eventually did calm down, and he revealed that the second thing was only his fingers, but my cunt was so numb from the popscicle that I couldn’t tell.
So there’s one of my stories, one of my hangups. I still feel panicky and anxious at the thought of any sort of object going in there. Everyone has things in BDSM they won’t try anymore because of a bad experience. I won’t try it any time soon. Maybe another time in the future. But definitely not anytime soon.
