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Headgame
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information.
>From: [email protected]
>Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
>Subject: playmates - head games 1
>Date: 11 Sep 91 02:51:35 GMT
>Lines: 200
//Archive-name: head-games.1
//Author: wi.1174
//Title: playmates - head games 1
this is the next scene from playmates. NOTE: the scanty detail on the
piercing ritual is intentional. this is a story about blossom and c, both of
whom have given full consent to disclosure. i have no such permission from
those at the ritual, therefore the omission of details, identifying
characteristics and the protection of the privacy of those who attended
may be a tad frustrating, but necessary, IMHO.
blossom.
playmates - head games 1
i slept late on saturday, knowing that i would need all the strength and
energy i could muster for what was going to happen: i was going with c
to a piercing ritual where many of the net.stars that i had wanted to
meet would be. i was alittle shy of meeting total strangers who had
been reading about blossom and c, frightened slightly by the vulnerability.
i was going as blossom, c's new bottom, en scene.
i was ready at 11am, but c arrived late, so i sat and fretted until
he showed up. "you will wear my collar from noon until midnight. until
noon, you can say whatever you want to, we can talk about anything. but
after noon, you will be my slave." i asked about what i should do at the
ritual. "you will stay by my side. you will not wander off. if i am
sitting, you will sit at my feet. you may talk to people, but i'd prefer
you to mostly listen."
so we sat with c's arms around me and chatted of the books he had lent
me, of the mail he had sent but i hadn't received. we laid out the day:
brunch, toy shopping in the city, a light dinner, then the piercing ritual.
then we got in the car and headed into the city. i put my hand on c's leg
and he put his over mine, reassuring me with his touch. we passed the
airport around noon. c took a collar out of his pocket, a smaller,
different one from last time. "put this on." "yes, sir." i struggled
with the ties under my hair and finally got it on. we drove on in silence.
we chatted, then more silence. "take your pants off."
i removed my leather pants and boots. c took my hand and placed it on
his erect cock. i knew better than to unzip his pants. i had been
given permission to feel his cock through his clothes, not to hold its
warmth in my hand. he reached between my legs and massaged my wet cunt
through my black lace panties. i ran my fingers up either side of his
cock, unable to get my hand around it through the cloth. he reached
inside my underwear and gently massaged my clit. the warmth increased.
then he put his finger inside me. the sensation was wonderful. even if
i couldn't come, i could feel good and i did. i felt happy, looking
forward to the day and the adventure of the evening.
as we got off the freeway, he removed his hand and told me to put my
pants back on. i dressed and returned my hand to his leg. he squeezed
my hand and continued driving. after getting sort of lost, we finally
arrived and found a parking space in the castro. as we left the car, i
took c's hand. he shook my hand off, like shaking off a fly and said,
"i will not be seen holding hands with a straight woman in the castro."
i flinched as if hit. no, please no...he wasn't going to work my fear
of being with someone who looked ashamed to be with me, was he? oh,
dear god, please not that. i CAN'T not touch. it is the only way i
have to escape that fear, or at least to tame its ferocity. the first
wave of tears rose up and i fought them back. i trusted him. if this
was what he wanted, then that is how it would be, even if the fear of
rejection screamed at me not to do so.
we found a restaurant that c liked and went in. he studied the menu
and watched the people in the restaurant. "i find that guy attractive"
c mentioned, motioning to one of the waiters. i tried to chat, but he
seemed more interested in the menu and in the people around us. i put
my legs over on his side of the table, hoping that i'd "accidentally"
come in contact with his. no such luck. i sighed and tried to just
go with it.
there were a number of places that he wanted to go, so after we ate,
we started the rounds. at the toy stores, he looked over the selections
and tried a few out on me in each store. c's attention was always on
what he was doing, almost as if i weren't there. the street was crowded
and at every opportunity, i'd bump into c, just for the contact. he
caught on when we were walking down an uncrowded stretch. "quit bumping
into me." damn. caught. the tears came up again, bringing with them the
memory of how many times i had been told to keep my cotton-pickin' hands
to myself. this was different. trust him. this is what he wants.
i stopped bumping into him. after we had finished the rounds, we got n
the car. he reached over and gently ran the back of his forefinger over my
nipple through my clothing. "missing the attention?" "yes," i
whispered. he started the car and continued to ignore me.
we went to the haight for an early dinner. not bumping into him was not
so easy here. i had to drop behind and sometimes run to catch up. we
ate, c reading a magazine he had bought, me sitting there helpless and
silent. the tears had gotten into a steady pattern of crashing in and
subsiding, like waves on the beach. i had to ask: "am i doing okay?"
"you're doing pretty well." damn. he didn't want me to ask that.
we arrived at the ritual and i began to meet people i'd wanted to meet.
i tried to not say too much, as my master had commanded. sometimes it
was difficult to continue a conversation because he would suddenly move
to another room and i had to follow. it was almost as if i weren't
there. some people were pointed out to me that i wanted to meet, but
i couldn't: i had to stay at my master's side. the lack of attention
kept turning up the heat of my fears and i struggled to keep the burning
from overwhelming me and the tears from flowing.
oddly enough, most people hadn't made the connection between the c in
blossom's posting and the real c. few people realized the intensity of
the scene that was unfolding. their focus was on the ritual, as it
should be, but i felt alone and forgotten, abandoned. a lovely lady
came up to me at one point and tried to ask if i was okay, but i had to
lie or the scene would have collapsed. the energy of what was happening
around me also helped me a great deal. but my focus was on what
c wanted and how very much that was what i didn't want and on the
feelings that the submission called into play.
i stood behind c most of the time and found a small way to cheat: by
standing close enough behind him, i could feel his hair on my breasts.
the feeling of cheating haunted me. i didn't WANT to cheat, but wasn't
strong enough to give him what he wanted without some sustenance.
not alot of contact, but enough to give me strength to keep going. when
c wandered alot, i felt like a little puppy dog, dumbly following around
someone who had no interest in its following. the tears kept coming up
and each time it became more difficult to suppress them. when i thought
that i couldn't take it anymore, c sat down and motioned for me to sit
on the floor between his legs. the contact strengthened me and gave me
the courage to keep pleasing him, even if it was ripping me apart
inside.
then a break came and c motioned me out of his way and he got up and
started to wander even more. i helplessly followed. at one point, he
sat down and a woman began playing with his hair. the fact that i
couldn't play with his hair made it all the worse. they chatted and
i sat there silent, the pain growing. then she braided his hair and
i panicked: with his hair braided, i wouldn't be able to do my trick
of making contact through his hair. that made the second part of the
evening even more difficult and the tears were harder and harder to
suppress. just when i thought that for sure i would break, c sat
down and i knelt beside him on the floor. then, for the first time
in what seemed like hours, he put his hand on my arm. i laid my head
on his bare hip and felt at peace. i was going to make it.
someone mentioned the time and c realized that midnight was approaching.
"i didn't realize it was that late," c said. we were standing in the
hall when midnight arrived, chatting with some of the other folks.
c pointed to the floor at his feet. i knelt down in front of him, my
face against his crotch. he undid the collar and kissed me lightly.
the collar was off, but the scene was not over, for i couldn't get out
of it. c continued to act the same way he had acted all night. i tried
to move closer for comfort, but something developing caught his eye and
he moved me away to join in. i stood there helpless, just as i had been
all night. on the side, observing, but not really a part of what was
going on.
finally we left. i was very silent. c asked me to talk about the
scene. "it was very difficult for me." that was all i could get out.
all the tears that i had pushed down all night were slowly bubbling up.
c probed around, trying to find the source of my pain. "what it the
ritual? did that bother you?" "no, no. the pain has nothing to do with
the ritual." he started driving home, paying attention to the road,
commenting on the evening and other things. when he asked something
and my reply was rather soft, he looked over and saw the tears running
down my face. "that was very difficult for me." i leaned over and he
put his arm around me. "just cry for now. let me know when you can
talk about it."
i cried the rest of the trip down 280. everytime i would start to try
to explain, the tears would come up again, so i just cried some more.
all the tears i had tried to suppress had to find their way out and
they did. when we arrived at my house, c drove in the drive and turned
off the car. "do you want me to come in?" "you're tired. why don't
you just go on home." "that isn't want i asked. do you want me to come
in?" "yes."
so we went into the house and sat down on the couch and talked through
the scene. he explained to me the fears he was trying to work and i
explained the extra one of being ashamed of, which he hadn't realized
the scene would bring out. he praised me for how well i did and how,
except for a few slips, how obedient i had been. we discussed my
confusion about thinking i was not allowed to ask for anything. then
he asked me if i thought i was strong enough to let him make an utter
fool of me in public. i cried some more and whispered, "i don't know."
he kept comforting me, praising me and sometimes just holding me. slowly
i stopped crying. i cuddled closer, asking without words for something
more. "stand up. NO, do not turn around. tell me what you want."
"i want you to fuck me." i heard crickling and movement behind me.
"take off your pants and sit down on my lap." i smiled, like a little
girl who was brave at the doctor's office and rewarded with an ice
cream cone. as i sat down, i guided his cock into my cunt. ah, it
felt so nice.
slowly, the fear and pain were melded into something else by the pure
lust that i felt and i found myself once more through c's orgasm. myself,
able to dance with demons and then give them a rasberry. "nyah, nyah,
nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, yo-ou ca-an't keep me". at least not any longer.
the victories i've won over in my life over allowing myself to be victimized
shining brighter in the light of my re-possession of myself. myself, no
longer afraid of the intensity of my sexual lusts, but proud. "write it
up and post it" he said as he left. so i did.
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing missing parts, archive
locations, ftp sites, gif sites, and subscription requests. These stories get
deleted immediately after they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE
postings, read the FAQ posted bi-monthly to a.s.s.d
DISCLAIMER: I did not write this story, nor do I condone its actions.
These files were archived several months ago, it is now time to kill
the archive, I am posting and then deleting these files. requests
for reposting will be ignored. - These stories belong to whomever they
belong to. enjoy!
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