At That Moment...

...my head was on his right boot. His left boot was on my back. I was naked, except for the ass hook in my ass. I was...pleased.

At that moment, I heard him typing on his Mac, his goal near accomplishment.  And once he hit publish, he removed his left boot and turned the screen towards me.

"I may misdirect, but I never bluff."

There it was, emblazoned on my blog. A momento of our scene. A token to symbolize the hour and a half we spent together, both of us gaining information.

My arms were tired. My legs were tired. My nipples were sore. My clit was still warm. My head was still stuffed up.

He let me put my head in his lap, rubbed my back, and caressed my hair. I didn't need him to fetch anyone else. We remained there as we both came back.

"I like your tummy," I said. I just felt like saying it.

He needed water. I crawled away from him, the glint of metal still in my ass as I swiveled my hips in my task. I stumbled a little, but made my way into the Dungeon, found his refreshment, and brought it back. My head returned to his lap.

After a while, I sat back and smiled. I laid against the blue matts. We just kind of looked at each other for a bit.

"You still have an ass hook in your ass."
"Yes I do."

It had been intense. More than intense. I had pushed myself further than I ever expected I could. I loved that he pushed me.

And then he revealed a little secret: the pepper wasn't a habenero, but it burned enough all the same.

As we eventually gathered up our things, my riped off clothing and his toys, he wanted to try one more stimulus.

He had three small hooks. One went into my nose. The other two went into the sides of my mouth. Using rope, he pulled them all taut.

"I guess I shouldn't have taken the ass hook out."
"No, you shouldn't have."

I didn't want to. I really didn't want to. I had no idea how much I would love it. Love it. But he was cleaning up, putting away his toys and recoiled rope. We were winding down. I was being polite, too polite.

Something else to try, next time...

Oh, and he found his Ow stick. It was in the grass, hidden by the dim light. He gave me matching ow's on each of my breasts. Two more bruises as trophies from our scene.

[For context (or for those who happened to miss it): At The Moment...]

Interrogation part 4

Let's review.

It was a dripping-sweat-hot Thursday night.

I had invited Gray to have an interrogation scene.

For my trouble, I found myself tied tight in 4mm hojo rope, partially suspended with only my left leg for support. I wore heels and stood on two overlapping matts, both contributing to my general lack of stability.

My arms were behind my back, my right thigh up in the air. My clothes were cut and riped off of me through his chest tie. There was a metal ass hook in my rear attached to my hair.

A piece riped off from my outfit served as a gag. In that gag sat a habenero pepper, which I was instructed to not drop. If I did, there stood a threat of mean pincers or large gauge needles to keep it in.

Nipple clamps dangled from my chest, their chain looped through my gag. If I bent my head forward, I pulled on the ass hook. If I bent my head back, I pulled on my nipples.

Oh, and in the process of Gray's layering of stimuli, I had been paddled, caned, kicked, slapped, and punched.

All this, and Gray hadn't even gotten to his inquiry yet.

Pulling up a metal folding chair, Gray sat down just on the outside of the blue matts. He opened up his Mac and went to my blog, this blog.

He then went to the blogger home page, typed in one of my email addresses, and asked one simple question, "What's your password?"

I stayed silent.

Gray reassured me I would know exactly what he would post. He pulled up WordPad and began writing his diatribe.

It was mean, calling out multiple riggers I knew, including him, and saying many not nice things, mentioning how I didn't need them anymore since for this event I was now rigging others myself.

Gray was especially hurtful towards himself, mocking his personality and his physical features, specifically his stomach.

He said he was going to post that on my blog. All he needed was my password.

Finished typing, he looked up at me and again asked for the information.

In many things I am open. I write a lot about my life, both kinky and not, on this blog. But somethings I am protective of, one of them being my passwords. I use upper and lowercase letters, numbers, symbols, and I throw in a word. I like knowing and feeling secure about my Internet privacy.

But here Gray was, sitting on a metal folding chair, Blogger up, wanting to know information I have never told anyone, ever.

I hesitated. Looking at the email address he listed, I realized it was the wrong one for my blog. He had typed my kinky email address, which I'd acquired after I'd begun the blog.

I didn't want to give away more than I had to, and if I'd given up the password to the wrong address, that probably would've incurred yet more wrath from my captor.

Through the gag, I was able to spell out the correct email address. But Gray still needed the password. Again, I hesitated.

Sensing my unwillingness, even strung up and over stimulated as I was, Gray upped the ante. Using his blade, he cut off the tip of the pepper and made a small V.

"This can easily go on your clit. What's the password?"

Reluctantly I said the first few characters, but then stopped. Angered, Gray put the tip of the pepper on my right nipple. Crying still more, I coughed up the rest of the information.

But it didn't work.

Gray asked for it again. I spat it out through the gag, but it still didn't work. He typed it over and over.

I suspected he had one of those programs that blocks a site from loading, just another layer of mindfuck. He typed out the password, showed it to me, and submitted once more; nothing.

He thought I was fucking with him. He thought I was misdirecting. He thought I was lying. I swore to him that I wasn't lying, swore to him that I didn't know what was going on.

In the swirl of emotions, the pepper top dropped. Gray picked up the piece, rubbed its juices on his hand, and massaged my clit. The burning was immediate, as were my sobs.

I didn't understand why it wasn't working. I told him that was the correct password.

But then, in a flash, it occurred to me: maybe I wasn't remembering it all. I use a mnemonic device to recall the intricacies of my passwords. Maybe I skipped something or used a number instead of a letter. Maybe I genuinely got it wrong.

I asked him to switch a number and a letter; nothing. I asked him to try a different variation; zilch.

Finally we'd tried enough times to enter a password that Blogger asked a security question. This, thankfully, I did remember. I gave him the answer and he was in.

He closed his Mac, stood up, and began letting me down. He removed the pepper and the gag. He slowly lowered my right leg, which had gone numb. I cautiously put weight on it. He released my chest tie from the arch and slowly helped me to the ground.

Unclamping my left nipple, I screamed; intense pain surged in my breast.

"The right's going to be worse."
"I know; just do it!"

Again my cries filled the tent, echoing out over the lawn.

"You know, my nipples, they never went numb."

He unwound his rope, my arms and hands numbed as well. Finished, he sat back in his metal chair. He instructed me to come and put my head on his boot.

Interrogation part 3

"Yes, this will work great."

Having taken off his gloves, Gray again pulled out his butterfly knife. After examing my gag and approving of his plan, he cut two slits into the very damp piece of fabric.

He then pulled out the pepper.

I had heard the story earlier. One of my cabinmates had taken a class, presented by Dart earlier that day, in which Gray had on the spot volunteered for a demo.

It started with Gray doing pushups, but that proved too easy. Dart had Gray stop, holding plank position. Dart then pulled out a pepper, that pepper, and put it into Gray's mouth. Dart then used two long pieces of duct tape to keep Gray's mouth closed and the pepper in place.

For added measure, some mousetraps below Gray were also thrown in. Dart called this "introducing stimuli." For his troubles, Gray received the pepper. Lucky me.

"This is a habenro pepper." He slipped the pepper into the slits he'd created in my gag.

"Don't bite down. And don't drop this. If you drop this, I will use these." Gray unzipped his little green pouch and pulled out one of its many treats, two very mean looking pincers.

"And if not the pincers, I have large gauge needles. You know how those work. I go in at the top lip, out, through the bottom lip, out, and I bend up the needle, so you can't open your mouth."

There was no way I was dropping that fucking pepper.

"How's that support leg?" Gray, ever the nice guy, kicked my left leg multiple times. I took the pain, bopped around, and then made myself stand up tall in an attempt to breathe easier.

The one thing I had going for me was the heat, so thick you could cut it with Gray's blade. For as long as I stood, with most of my weight on my left leg, I should have been in more pain. And though my treadmill time probably was also an aid, I'm sure the extreme heat helped keep my left leg from cramping.

But wait, there is always more...

Seeing me stand up, balacing on my heel, Gray wanted to add one more layer of stimulus. When he came back with the nipples clamps, the cursing began even before he put them on.

As soon as he attached the clamp to my right nipple, I immediately started sobbing. My cries before from his blows were yelps and grunts, moans and sighs. This now was just straight tears and snot running down my face. It was some of the worst pain of my life.

For an added bonus, Gray looped the chain of the clamps around my gag before attaching to my left nipple. Now if I bent my head forward I pulled on the ass hook, but if I bent my head backward I pulled on the nipple clamps.

"Don't worry. Your nipples will go numb in about ten minutes."

They never went numb.

Such a sadistic fuck. And we weren't done yet.

Interrogation part 2

Pain is my wheel house.

Ask most people who've played with me and they'll tell you I can take a beating. And, frankly, I love taking a beating.

I love it when you can get me to a place where I am a sobbing mess, tears running down my face, snot stuffing up my nose. It's not pretty, but fuck is it a lot of fun.

In my interrogation scene with Gray, I came in with a disadvantage. We'd played enough times that he knew my strengths, and he knew my weaknesses. He knew where to attack, how to attack. I knew I was fucked from the beginning.

He started with his paddle, attacking my legs and ass. Next was his red stripe cane, again going for my fleshy parts.

I love thuddy. Love it. I suspect he started with stingy because, as I tell folks, "I love thuddy, but I'll take stingy for you." For Gray, I'd take just about anything, especially when I'm bound and gagged.

After the red stripe, he switched to his bamboo cane.

"This cane is great for leaving marks."

One quick lash and the stereotypical double bruise rose. He attacked both my thighs and my ass, hitting up and down as he so chose.

"With you, you have this lovely ass which I can hit without hitting the ass hook." He lashed across my cheeks, burning pain surging through the muscles.

"Still feel it," he asked of the ass hook. "Yes," I screamed. "Remember, don't clench."

There is just something so primal, so taboo, so humilating and wrong about getting slapped in the face. I guess that's one of the reasons why I love it.

Gray first attempted to warm my dimples, but was fowled by my right leg's support rope. Holding me steady, his hand on my chin, he slapped first left, and then right, and then both once more.

Yeah, I need more face slapping in my life.

"Where's my Ow stick...?"

His pretty piece of thin graphite had gone missing. Frustrated, he approached me again with his bamboo cane. Again he stung my flesh, now attacking my nipples, my calves, the underside of my breasts, and once more targeting my thighs and ass.

Instinctively, I tried to get away. On my one heeled foot, I bounced around the matt as much as the chest tie and my body would allow.

"You can't hop away. There is nowhere you can hop that my cane won't reach."

But I have to try, I thought as I attempted to manuever my body in some fashion that would make his blows hurt less.

"Paddles, canes, all that shit..."

He walked back to his bag of tricks, tossed down the cane, and picked up his leather gloves.

"You know what I like," he said as I watched him slip on the leather.

I wondered if he could see the smile on my face through my gag as I beamed from ear to ear. Yes, I knew what he liked because it was also what I loved.

Gray sauntered back to me and immediately started punching my chest, my legs, my ass.

"Of course I know you've been hit by Murphy. And I don't hit as hard as Murphy. So I have to hit you more."

Multiple blows repeatedly landed on my chest, the thuddy surges coming in waves. I moaned, enjoying the exquisite pain, and the slight reprieve, of thuddy punches to my body.

"And now it's time for pressure points." Gray dug his fingers into my flesh. I screamed and screamed, the way both he and I liked.

"I'm not as intense as Murphy."
"You are always intense."
"Are you calling me a liar?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"You're humble. It's a character...istic." I caught myself before I said character flaw.

"I love playing with you. You can take so much pain."
"And you're a hoot and a half."

Interrogation part 1

...and I stumbled forward, falling to my knees, my body twisted around. He pulled my hair more, bringing me back up, dragging me to under the wooden arch.

He placed his arm around my neck, choking me, keeping me close. He pulled out rope from somewhere, either in his pocket or simply in his free hand. He immediately secured my arms behind my back. As soon as he cinched, I recognized the feel: 4mm, hojo rope.

What had I gotten myself into?

He was not kind with his tying. He didn't care if it pinched or was pretty. As he drew the rope across my body, it bit into my skin. I felt the burn of his rope as he pulled through my arms and cinched tight against my torso.

As he worked, whipping me around like a rag doll, I struggled to keep balance. There were two blue mats under the arch, too big to fit side-by-side. At the center was a small peek.

As he moved me about, my unsteadiness in the heels showed. Thankfully I was able to lean my body against the side of the arch, trying to keep myself off the ground.

This only lasted a minute before he pulled me to the center, lifting the line up and securing it above. I was trapped, my arms behind my back, my legs unsteady, my torso bound, unable to flee.

He grabbed my left leg, threw a quick cuff around my thigh, and raised it up, securing the rope above again.

"Yes, that is your support leg." This was getting better and better.

I heard and saw his flourish with the knife, his butterfly knife, so pretty in its possibility for pain. He trailed the blade over my leg, and then stepped behind me.

I felt and heard the rip. He pulled off a piece of my shirt and fashioned a make shift gag, tying the fabric tight. No cheating with this one.

He cut at my shirt and skirt randomly, the pieces of fabric hanging off of me. And then he went for a bra strap.

"Please don't."
"What happened to full destroyables?"
"Fuck it, just do it." And he did, slicing through my bra.
"The wrong time to tell me to not cut your bra is in the middle of the scene."

I paid dearly for my mistake as he pinched my now exposed nipples in punishment.

With my outfit in tatters, he pulled the pieces of fabric through his chest tie, burning as his wrenched it all off. Note to self: Listen, remember, and NEVER wear an underwire bra when you're going to have your clothes riped off.

Now naked, save for his ropes, Gray decided to add some adornment. Strutting back to his bag, he lifted a glinting piece of metal. Stepping behind me again, his hand caressed my very wet pussy.

"Of course."

Using my own juices as lube, he slipped the ass hook into me. With yet another piece of hojo rope, where he pulled it from I do not know, he grabbed my curls and cinched tight. Tracing the rope down my back and through his chest tie, he secured my hair to my ass hook and then back up to my hair again.

This was not to be a pretty scene, or a sensual scene, or even a service scene. With my head now sitting up, my eyes were wide open.

I had never been in a scene such as this, with Gray or anyone else. So far, though, I was enjoying the ride.