Tension (?/F) *Completed*

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BlissfulMisery
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Tension (?/F) *Completed*

Post by BlissfulMisery »

Well, big disclaimer on this one. This story is sort of out there. It does not go to extreme lengths, but it goes further then most on this site. It is definitely not 'for everyone'. It features a fairly intense predicament, pain, and humiliation. And since it is very short, it focuses completely on that, and not much else.

If those things are not to your liking, I would highly recommend skipping this one.

To explain the origins of something this seemingly random; this was written as a sort of quick challenge. I was given a drawing and asked to write a short story about it, and I obliged. This is what came out of it. It is a bit rushed/not super edited due to that fact, some of the language is a bit rough especially, but it should still be quite readable, and I figured it fit this board well enough that there was little harm in posting it here, even if the target audience for this is pretty limited.

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Waves of pleasure washed over me, making me want to squirm, spasm in delight, fight against my restraints. However, I forced myself to keep my body rigid, trying to lock every single muscle perfectly in place.

I cannot afford to move right now, I repeated to myself. It will be worse if I do.

Fighting my orgasm this way was exhausting as I was merely struggling against myself, against a powerful involuntary response.

Eventually it was over, and I could breathe normally again, try my best to relax.

Of course my current predicament did not make that a real possibility.

I was completely naked, balanced awkwardly on my knees. Not kneeling as one might imagine, but actually balancing on my knees, as my ankles were tied tightly to my thighs which were held upright, nearly vertical. My knees were lashed together as well, above and below them, forcing my legs shut.

A rope extended diagonally from the tie above my knees, headed towards the tight rope harness around my breasts, forcing my upper body to be bent forwards diagonally as this rope was intentionally too short, preventing me from straightening.

In order to try to balance myself to prevent from falling forwards, I had thrust my bottom out backwards, using that and the feet that sat just below it as a sort of counterweight.

This of course, was not anywhere near sufficient on its own to keep me upright in such a position. I had 'help' in the form of a few other ropes.

First, my hands were bound together, wrists side by side, above my head, a rope extending all the way from them to an attachment point on the ceiling. It was placed far enough forwards that I could not hang down comfortably, and had to either flex my arms to pull on the rope for support, or relax them and put pressure on the joints of my shoulders to hold the weight of my jutting upper body. It was a lose-lose situation, my only choice being what specific kind of discomfort I wanted to experience.

Second, much of the rest of my body weight, this being reason I was so determined to not move around too much, was held up by my crotch rope. It was tied to a rope around my waist, just below my belly button, and from there, passing deep between my legs along the way, hooked up through my butt cheeks towards the ceiling, providing support that way.

The third, and last, rope I had to assist me was tied to the small of my back, to the back side of the rope around my slender waist, heading straight to the ceiling. This third rope was not as taut as the others, mostly serving to prevent me from toppling over entirely. To add insult to injury, the rope going from my arms to the ceiling was tied with another to this one, restricting their movement even further.

The crotch rope had been tied as tight as it possibly could, with no slack at all, forcing me to maintain my current posture perfectly, lest I increase the already painful pressure in my most sensitive area. I had accidentally tipped to one side once already, and the rope had felt like it was trying to bisect me as I frantically struggled to right myself by twisting my body and using what support I could muster by further straining my awkwardly positioned arms.

That little incident had already tired me out quite a bit and I was not eager to repeat the experience, hence my current level of self control.

Overall, I could continue to balance on my knees to alleviate the worst of the pressure, and in a tiny concession to my comfort, they were resting on a thin cushion, not that it helped much, but I still had to tense my arms, legs, and torso to stay that way, and any time I failed to do so, the crotch rope would give me a firm reminder that I had erred. It forced me to raise my rear as high into the air as I could to make myself as comfortable as possible, which resulted in me involuntarily arching my back. I could not see myself, but I knew I probably looked ridiculous, contorted.

Of course, the awkward posture was nowhere near the full extent of my problems.

I was gagged, as one might expect in my situation, a large, bright red ball gag, large enough that it had taken considerable effort to force behind my teeth, and large enough that my jaw was already quite sore from it, yet another source of discomfort added on top of all the others, the straps having been done up tight enough to press into the sides of my mouth. A blindfold covered my eyes, and earplugs had been inserted in order to further limit my range of perceptions, forcing me to focus on all the sensations assaulting me.

Oh, and, lest I forget the most persistent of those, the vibrator. Before my legs had been lashed together, a wand vibrator had been thoroughly duct taped to the inside of one of my thighs, positioned carefully so that it would not penetrate, but merely tease my clit from the outside. It was set to a low setting, just high enough that it was more then capable of bringing me to orgasm (as I had just experienced), but low enough to ensure that it would be a long, drawn out process. The vibrations resonated through the tender flesh between my legs, which only helped aggravate the already merciless crotch rope, adding to my suffering.

That had only been my first orgasm and I was already exhausted, desperately wanting to relax my aching muscles.

The toy's incessant coaxing did not let up just because I wanted to rest however. It worked tirelessly, sapping my will to resist, patiently teasing me just a little bit closer to the edge. It was pleasurable of course, as it was intended to be, but I was already in pain, my muscles sore from the strain of having to maintain my position, and I knew my predicament would only get worse with time as what promised to be repeated orgasms stressed my body and drained my remaining energy.

The pain made my body react, react in familiar ways that I desperately did not want right now. It aroused me, intensified all the sensations. Redoubled the pleasure. Which in this case, would only lead to more pain. It was a perfect cycle, one feeding directly into the other to create a truly sadistic predicament for me. I both wanted the device on to distract me from my situation, and desperately wanted it to be turned off, because it would only make things worse for me in the long run.

Ultimately however, much like the rest of it, it was not up to me. I was helpless to change anything. I knew the batteries in the device would last far longer then my already waning strength, and the ropes were certainly not going anywhere, the knots all expertly positioned and tied so that my chances of escape were non existent. I knew that I had no choice but to endure until I was freed, whenever that happened to be.

And so, with little else I could do, I waited. Tensed. The ropes digging into me all over. Pleasure and pain boring up between my legs, competing for my attention. Helpless, blind and deaf. Drool slowly leaking around my gag. My rear and soles thrust out behind me for balance, my breasts jutting forward and out due to the rope harness framing them, nipples hard from my intense arousal, all laid out on full display for anyone that might be watching.

Humiliated. Vulnerable. Just the way I wanted to be, suffering for the amusement of another. My own amusement too, as much as I did not want to admit it.

I moaned desperately into my gag, my head lolling back. It was going to be a long, wonderful evening.

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As the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and it certainly seems to be true here… Or in this case, apparently a picture is worth exactly 1351 words.

Whoever made it this far, I hope you enjoyed.
Last edited by BlissfulMisery 1 year ago, edited 4 times in total.
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Post by GreyLord »

As you advised, [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention], she is in a tough predicament, be it partly of her own making or not. Good detailed description.
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Post by Caesar73 »

In one word? Intense. I agree with [mention]GreyLord[/mention] The descriptions of the damsel´s predicament are very detailed - I like that - and very well done!
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Post by tickletied84 »

Wonderfully written. A great description of the conflicting sensations that she's undergoing. Bravo!
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Post by Nainur »

tickletied84 wrote: 1 year ago Wonderfully written. A great description of the conflicting sensations that she's undergoing. Bravo!
Exactly!
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Post by JulieG »

[mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention] That really appeals to the darker side of me. The bit that wants to experience pleasure and pain together. I loved being spanked long before I enjoyed being tied up. I have since experienced nipple clamps, arm s tied over head and other discomforts but your description and the scene was so intense.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Hey,

Well this was far more response then I was expecting for something with such a narrow scope. I appreciate the comments, [mention]Greylord[/mention], [mention]Ceasar73[/mention], [mention]tickletied84[/mention], [mention]Nainur[/mention], [mention]JulieG[/mention].

This was originally intended as a one-off rather then a serial, but now I think I will continue it for a few more chapters; it still will not very long due to the limited scope/nature.

Minor spoiler: it is going to get worse (since the natural progression is to escalate...), before it (eventually) gets better for our unfortunate (or maybe lucky?) protagonist.

Either way will work on it... Might have to get a little creative due to the very strange initial setup.
JulieG wrote: 1 year ago That really appeals to the darker side of me. The bit that wants to experience pleasure and pain together. I loved being spanked long before I enjoyed being tied up. I have since experienced nipple clamps, arm s tied over head and other discomforts but your description and the scene was so intense.
Well, while you are not the only one to say 'intense', yes, that was definitely what I was going for. Glad it came across. And certainly, there is quite the aromatic bouquet of delightful discomforts available to be sampled, to wax a little poetic.

As for 'darker side'... well, have to echo that part. Not intended to be a comfy story, but tinged (permeated? suffused?) with that forbidden allure of things one is not 'supposed' to enjoy. An exploration of said darker side.

Certainly seems I will need to channel even more of that for the continuation.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

[mention]Greylord[/mention], [mention]Ceasar73[/mention], [mention]tickletied84[/mention], [mention]Nainur[/mention], [mention]JulieG[/mention], since you commented on the first part, I assume you may be interested in a continuation. Apologies if that is not the case.

Well I said I would have to get a little creative, and indeed, there is at least one fairly strange way to handle writing things in this part. Should be pretty obvious as it comes up almost immediately.

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My pleasant thoughts were rudely interrupted by intense pain. Or, more specifically, *new* intense pain, as my right nipple was pinched by fingers, and then sharply twisted. I cried out in pain, tears welling up in my eyes.

My ear plugs were pulled out.

"You were asking for it with that moaning... It seems you are enjoying this, you naughty, naughty girl." Came a mocking voice.

My mind was already foggy from the onslaught I was experiencing, and while I knew the voice had a name, was a person, the person who had placed me in this situation, had been watching my struggles this whole time, had been the one I was suffering for, well, right now none of that really mattered to me. I existed only in the moment, the past being relegated to the irrelevant.

And right now, what the voice was, was my tormentor, my protector, the one who would make me cry and then wipe away my tears, who would make me suffer and then be the one to comfort me when it was too much to bear. The perfect compliment to me, and to what I was going through.

I shook my head side to side furiously, trying to indicate that no, I was not enjoying this, that I wanted to be freed. But of course, I knew I was lying. Deep down, despite how dearly I wanted it to stop, I also wanted it to continue. To push my limits.

The voice was certainly not fooled by my attempt at deception.

"No? I think you are lying to me. Like the naughty, dirty, lying, pain-obsessed little slut you are." The voice sounded annoyed, and I instinctively felt like cowering from it due to how vulnerable I felt, even if the words themselves excited me with both the humiliating nature of them, and the implied promise of further escalation.

"And lying has consequences." My right nipple was pinched hard again by the fingers, twisted in the same merciless way as before, except now it was even more sensitive. I cried out once more, additional tears forcing their way out.

Breathing hard, sweating from the stress, I tried to recover but of course all my other torments had not ceased, having only been very briefly overshadowed by the intense pain that had been inflicted upon me.

In some sick way, I wanted the fingers to take the other nipple, do the same to it. Balance it out, for it felt neglected now. Of course, in reality I dared not make a sound, lest the voice take it as another provocation.

Instead, to my surprise, my breasts were grabbed, massaged, roughly, the fingers digging in wherever they pleased, squeezing, pulling, pressing. I gasped.

"You like it when I do that, don't you? You like it when I play rough..." I nodded, gasping again. This at least, I was willing to admit.

The pleasant distraction was soon over however, as my breasts were abandoned, now somehow feeling more naked then ever as they warmed, blood rushing to the surface in response to the rough treatment they had received.

"Well I think you will like this part a lot less..."

In the back of my mind, I had some inkling as to what was to come next, but it still managed to take me by surprise.

I felt the pain before I felt the clamps, my body flinching well before I consciously registered what was going on, an interesting quirk of how the mind responded to stimuli... The pain was intense of course, for the first few moments, but quickly dulled, still present, but muted. After a few moments I recognized the clamps as the ones with metal jaws, based on the intensity, and what I could feel of their shape.

The right one was flicked, causing me to gasp as it pulled and stretched. Once again, to my chagrin, it was the right receiving the worst of it.

Soon enough I became aware the clamps were connected with a chain, as the fingers played with it, bouncing it up and down, of course causing the clamps to do the same, reigniting the pain, my nipples throbbing from the abuse they were subjected to. I grunted into my gag as the chain continued to be played with, exulting in the experience of being played with like a particularly amusing toy...

Eventually, to my relief, the voice seemed to grow bored of that particular game.

"You know... I think that your restraints are too lenient..." The voice said.

I was confused. I could not imagine how this could get any worse.

"You see, you are still able to move your head freely... I think that needs to be addressed before we can say that you are properly restrained, don't you agree?"

I *definitely* did not agree, shaking my head in protest.

"Well, it is not like you have much of a choice in the matter."

Indeed the taunting jab was entirely correct. All I could do was wait and imagine what was to come.

"Besides, you use your head to say 'No', when what you really mean is 'Yes please', so really, I am just saving you the trouble of lying to me..." The voice trailed off, leaving to go get something.

I did not have to wait too long before I heard returning footsteps.

"What about the anal hook, hmm? I think it will do perfectly to keep your head still." The voice taunted.

I froze. From past experience I knew exactly what was about to happen. The anal hook was, as the name implied, a large, cruel looking hook, made entirely of surgical-grade stainless steel. There was a large loop on one end where something could be tied. On the other, curved, end, there was attached a steel ball. This was the end that would be placed inside of me, the ball helping secure the hook in place and prevent slippage, but also providing more surface area for my own comfort and safety.

Well, it was not going to be very comfortable regardless. I shook my head vigorously, grunting my displeasure into the gag as my tormentor prepared the hook for insertion.

Despite my protests, the ball slid smoothly inside me thanks to generous amounts of lubrication, the cold steel a stark contrast to the warmth of my body. The actual hook part was very thin, and therefore I closed up around it easily, although it still left me with a constant sensation of being filled, not quite able to relax.

Of course that was not the part I had been concerned about. My hair was gathered in a ponytail, and then partially braided with some rope in order to firmly combine the two. The next step I knew, even if I could not see, and could only barely feel it, was the rope being threaded through the loop on the end of the hook that stuck out of me.

And then the rope was pulled, not gently either. My head was forced backwards, my neck straining as I could feel the roots of my hair attempting to free themselves from my scalp. Under other circumstances I might have welcomed the warm, painful feeling, but right now, I definitely did not need any more sources of such.

My tormentor kept pulling however. My neck could not go any further, and now I was forced to arch my back, more then it already was. Further and further I was pulled, every moment certain there was no way I could be contorted any further, and every time I was somehow proven wrong.

Finally it stopped, and the rope was tied off. Surprisingly, none of this was particularly painful right now, the rope having been tied such that I was just barely able to comfortably hold the position. Of course, I was reminded by other parts of my body that staying still like this would eventually become it's own brand of excruciating.

The ball portion of the hook sat snugly inside of me, never letting me forget it was there, but also not stretching or pulling in any way. Unless of course, I tried to move my head, or straighten my back at all. Then, I was cruelly reminded that yes, indeed, I had a few inches of unyielding steel firmly embedded in my rear end, and that it had no plans to budge in the slightest no matter how hard I might try to pull.

While it certainly made my situation even more difficult, it also had another effect on me. The steel hook demanded total submission from me, as it did not care at all how much I might fight or protest, requiring complete and perfect obedience to whatever purpose it pulled me towards, lest I be immediately and harshly punished for my insolence.

I gave a soft moan of pleasure as the feeling of even deeper helplessness, deeper submission, washed over me. I had initially resisted the hook, but now I could not imagine wanting it gone. Tiny, involuntary movements of my neck and head caused it to shift very slightly over time, just enough to further stimulate me as the metal ball pressed and rubbed inside of me, working in tandem with the vibrator. I moaned again, doing my best to enjoy the small distraction.

At this point, moving – at least without causing additional pain – was a thing restricted only to my fingers and toes, and without even thinking about it, I wiggled my toes in a vain attempt to try to release some of the tension building in my body.

My tormentor noticed this however and I felt a hand on my toes, stopping their movement.

"Ahh, you are right of course. I forgot about those! Thank you for reminding me!" The voice mocked.

Some kind of thin rope or string was bound around my big toes, binding them tightly to each other. More and more loops made sure the binding was secure, not that I was ever in any danger of wriggling them free to begin with. Then, what felt like thin strips of medical tape were used to wrap my other toes, binding them all together, preventing me from doing much more then slightly curling them. Finally, another bit of thin rope connected my big toes to some of the bindings on my legs, forcing me to arch my feet back somewhat, leaving my soles more exposed to the air, and immobilizing my ankles.

"And of course, can't forget about your fingers!" The voice sounded almost gleeful.

My hands were laid along the rope from my wrists, and many coils of rope were wound around them, tighter and tighter until it felt like I was wearing gloves made of rope, my fingers lashed in place. Just in case, more tape went around the outside to hold it all even more firmly in place.

"Now, doesn't that feel better?" The voice said, clearly amused.

Of course this was, in reality, a mere formality, serving no practical purpose. The bindings on my fingers and toes were very tight, but compared to everything else they barely even registered. It was the principle of it, the taking away of any tiny amount of freedom I might still retain. It was a final humiliation to be endured, as total helplessness was required, the intended effect a mental, rather then a physical one.

And so the situation had escalated again. Had I been asked earlier, before all the 'additions', I would have said I could not handle any more. But now... Layers and layers were slowly added to my predicament, as if they were additional ropes swaddling my body, and every time, at first I thought it was too far, too much. But every time I proved myself wrong, that indeed my situation could become worse, and that indeed I could still somehow bear it.

As I pondered these strange thoughts, the vibrator, my ever present companion and counterpart to the discomforts of my situation, continued to take full advantage of my intense arousal as I felt the shameful wetness slowly make its way down my tired thighs... It was both wonderful and degrading at the same time, punctuating my lack of control even over my own reactions.

The voice was back, closer now, whispering in my ear. "Does it feel good, to be at my mercy, helpless?" I could not respond, as moving my head was impossible due to the hook, and the question was a rhetorical one anyways. Of course it felt good, in a twisted manner. The voice already knew that. That was why I was here in this situation in the first place. An excited shudder passed through me, despite all that I was going through.

The voice continued. "I love the way you look when you suffer, when you cry." Fingers traced the streaks of dried tears leading out from under my blindfold. Tingles passed through me at the tender touch, a touch I yearned to lean into, to return, but could not...
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Well, I am not sure how well it came off, but I found the idea of having interaction between two nameless, faceless characters on two sides of the same intense situation, despite one character being unable to speak and eventually unable to respond in any meaningful way an intriguing one. It is a very charged experience/interaction for both (or at least I tried to show that). Obviously not something that works most of the time, and maybe did not work here either, (up to the reader to determine that part) but I thought it an idea worth trying at least once, and it seemed to fit the scenario.

Would have changed a few things about the first part in hindsight (a few details of the situation) to make it work better, but oh well, hindsight is 20/20 and I never originally planned to extend it...
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Post by GreyLord »

While this goes beyond my normal comfort level, I must acknowledge that it is extremely well written. Your descriptions are very detailed and clear. I do not see any area here for misunderstanding. Well done again, [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention].
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Post by Nainur »

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago While this goes beyond my normal comfort level, I must acknowledge that it is extremely well written. Your descriptions are very detailed and clear. I do not see any area here for misunderstanding. Well done again, @BlissfulMisery.
I agree. Tense, very tense.., but well written, indeed.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago While this goes beyond my normal comfort level, I must acknowledge that it is extremely well written. Your descriptions are very detailed and clear. I do not see any area here for misunderstanding. Well done again, @BlissfulMisery.
Nainur wrote: 1 year ago I agree. Tense, very tense.., but well written, indeed.
Thank you for your comments!

I think there are very few people out there where this would not exceed their comfort level... Certainly the actual experience of writing has been a strange one too, and I am sure reading is much the same. Lots of small, relatively tame pieces, coming to together to create a constantly escalating whole. Too much of a good thing indeed...

Still I think it was/is probably worth doing, even if it came out of what was sort of a joke originally.
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Post by tickletied84 »

Very well written [mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention] - the way you gradually increased the bondage, and added new items all at once allowed us to 'savour' each new addition. Whilst the bondage as a whole may have ended up as too extreme - there was probably something for most people that they could take away!
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Post by Shotrow »

It was definitely a bold choice to make both characters anonymous. I think it worked well though. Keeps the focus where it's supposed to be, on the helplessness of the captive and the intensity of the interaction.
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Post by JulieG »

[mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention] as I said before this is much darker than most stories here and it does explore the darker side of pain which fascinated me in fantasy but would probably have me last 30 seconds in real life. I love being spanked or tied up forced to stand and nipple clamps, but the intensity of this torture is so much greater, yet mostly stress based, balance, tension on anal hook, rather than a physical beating.

It is exquisite.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Appreciate all the comments!
tickletied84 wrote: 1 year ago Very well written @BlissfulMisery - the way you gradually increased the bondage, and added new items all at once allowed us to 'savour' each new addition. Whilst the bondage as a whole may have ended up as too extreme - there was probably something for most people that they could take away!
Well, our protagonist certainly had mixed feelings about it! Appreciate the sentiment.
Shotrow wrote: 1 year ago It was definitely a bold choice to make both characters anonymous. I think it worked well though. Keeps the focus where it's supposed to be, on the helplessness of the captive and the intensity of the interaction.
JulieG wrote: 1 year ago @BlissfulMisery as I said before this is much darker than most stories here and it does explore the darker side of pain which fascinated me in fantasy but would probably have me last 30 seconds in real life. I love being spanked or tied up forced to stand and nipple clamps, but the intensity of this torture is so much greater, yet mostly stress based, balance, tension on anal hook, rather than a physical beating.
To be fair, while there is not much indication of time in the story, not much time actually passes in the whole. But certainly the protagonist is quite tough (although one might be surprised by how much one can endure under the right combination of circumstances), and the situation quite over the top - there are a few things I would change from a pure realism point of view but again, I was somewhat constrained originally.

And yes, I wanted to capture that general experience of being 'pulled in many directions' as it were but forced to just stay still and endure it all. Hard to describe it exactly in words ('overwhelming' might be another way to put it?), but it seems at least some of it came across, which I am glad to see. Also the reason for a complete lack of focus on the characters, because as Shotrow said, I was trying to focus 100% on the experience and not get sidetracked into other things/keep the story focused.
JulieG wrote: 1 year agoIt is exquisite.
Appreciate it. 'Somehow slightly enticing in a really twisted way, even if one might not literally want something like this' was something I was going for too. And I certainly have a bit of a weakness for predicaments.


Next part will be a bit of a pivot, although perhaps not that much. Originally I had it 'done' but I decided to rewrite about half of it to go a slightly different direction after thinking about it, which is the reason for the delay - that and life being life, but that is just how things go, so hardly worth mentioning... Honestly this story could have used more planning instead of every part feeling like a complete shift from the previous, but again, I never planned to take it this far.
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Post by Ovi1 »

I just read the first chapter, and I will agree with the others' comments that is indeed very intense. And writing wise very good for a quick low-edited story. Did you also post the picture it was based on anywhere?
I believe you would be a lot more comfortable in ropes
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Post by Windrunner »

Lot of fun to read. I *like* vivid, detailed descriptions of bondage, of how it's applied, of how it feels. And from my reading, it sounds like consent (which is actually a pretty sexy thing, when it involves giving someone permission to tie you up) was pretty clearly given. And this was not what I'd consider an extreme scene; I've been crotch-roped, and yep, it does hurt when done right, but no more than some moderate exercise.

I hope you'll keep writing - personally, short stories like this that focus on the little details, and leave everything else to the imagination - are enjoyable displays of talent in the same way that a black and white photo emphasizes things that might get lost in a color photo.

(and extra special thanks for the description of the anal hook - something I haven't experienced, at least so far. )
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Once again, appreciate the comments!
Ovi1 wrote: 1 year ago I just read the first chapter, and I will agree with the others' comments that is indeed very intense. And writing wise very good for a quick low-edited story. Did you also post the picture it was based on anywhere?
I did not post the drawing, as I am pretty sure it would be against the forum rules. Besides that, I was technically not given permission to share it (as it was done so privately).
Windrunner wrote: 1 year ago Lot of fun to read. I *like* vivid, detailed descriptions of bondage, of how it's applied, of how it feels.
Thank you for the compliment! I would say parts could still be much, much better, but sometimes no matter how much you dig, it is hard to find the right words. Although to be honest, in this case the descriptions were almost entirely of 'after the fact', so I am not sure all the parts of what you said fully apply.
Windrunner wrote: 1 year ago And from my reading, it sounds like consent (which is actually a pretty sexy thing, when it involves giving someone permission to tie you up) was pretty clearly given.
Well yes, there are a few places it is (intentionally) heavily hinted that the whole thing is consensual. I usually try to avoid it being explicitly said (because it often feels awkward or forced if you do that), and certainly in this case it would have been strange for it be directly stated.

Windrunner wrote: 1 year ago And this was not what I'd consider an extreme scene; I've been crotch-roped, and yep, it does hurt when done right, but no more than some moderate exercise.
I mean none of the individual parts are anything particularly special on their own, but the total combination is quite extreme. Also, perhaps this did not come across well, but the setup is a partial suspension (to take most of the weight off the knees to make the position actually physically possible), and while the weight is distributed across a few places, some of that pressure is on the crotch rope. So there is definitely more discomfort then normal.

And of course, the overall combination in general makes it quite the stress position.
Windrunner wrote: 1 year ago I hope you'll keep writing - personally, short stories like this that focus on the little details, and leave everything else to the imagination - are enjoyable displays of talent in the same way that a black and white photo emphasizes things that might get lost in a color photo.
Well I was supposed to finish off this story a while ago, but many things are getting in the way, plus a lack of inspiration (not for the general outline, but more for the exact specifics of wording/phrasing in an eloquent way). Hopefully will happen soonish, but then again I said that before... Slightly embarrassing.

But to address the general point/sentiment: I do have a soft spot for these sorts of 'experiential' stories, although I do have some ambitions for something a bit longer form too (a few ideas, but I will admit, none of them feel developed enough), as the problem with these types of short stories is that there is not much room to develop/extend them. On the flip side, they have the advantage of being able to focus on the description and language, since they are short and laser focused, which can create a uniquely enjoyable result; but as always, that is up to individual opinion.

Hard to say exactly what might come next (or when), since it depends on a lot of specifics (and just inspiration striking/being given by some source), but I will keep your point in mind.
Windrunner wrote: 1 year ago (and extra special thanks for the description of the anal hook - something I haven't experienced, at least so far. )
Appreciate it. I actually find it quite interesting that I have not seen that implement mentioned in any story I have read on this forum. Obviously it would not fit the tone/theme of most of them regardless, but the complete absence is a little strange. Certainly gives *quite* the feeling of helplessness, if that is ones goal, although obviously the story does gloss over a lot of 'boring' practical details for the sake of brevity.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Throbbing little jolts of pain. To my dismay, the clamps were being played with again, this time being lazily flicked by unseen fingers. I found myself wishing for the sharp, intense pain of the chain being pulled, for at least that would overwhelm all the other sources of such, providing a few moments of relief, as illusory as it was. This however, offered no such distraction. All I could do was emit some pathetic whimpers, hoping that a satisfactory reaction might grant me some leniency.

Despite my attempt to mollify the voice, I was expecting this to continue for a while. Thankfully, I was granted a respite, hearing receding footsteps.

It was not long before the footsteps returned however, and I heard a tell-tale *swish* as something was swung through the air.

The riding crop. I had no illusions about what use it was going to be put to, and tried to beg the voice to be merciful.

"Shhh, shhh." The voice cooed. My muffled protests only grew more frantic.

Hands cupped my cheeks as a mouth did it's best to kiss me over top of the ball gag, a kiss I was unable to return. The insistent kisses continued on the sides of my face, collecting some of the drool that had been slowly escaping around my gag. Afterwards, I felt their warm breath on my face as my hair was gently stroked.

I quieted down, strangely comforted by even this tiny amount of genuine affection in the midst of all that was being done to me.

"Good girl... I know you can handle it." The voice said.

A hand affectionately rubbed my bottom, preparing it for what was to come as tingling warmth flowed into it in reaction.

I gave a pitiful whimper. It was ignored.

Despite my earnest protests, I could not help but feel excited by the thought of receiving a taste of the riding crop, the implement being one I was intimately familiar with, the experience never failing to be a memorable one.

I did not have to wait long to feel its sting, the misleadingly delicate-looking instrument wielded by an expert hand and showing me no mercy, my body crying out against this fresh indignity. Every stroke began with a *swish* and ended with a sharp stinging pain that spread out and grew worse after the initial impact. I trembled, my jaw attempting to clench by reflex even though it was forced wide open. The one small positive about this was that the sharper new pain distracted somewhat from the duller old.

I could feel every mark being left on my skin, each one burning with a fire of it's own, crisscrossing all over each other like a complex web. I imagined how the marks looked, how they would feel when I would inevitably be unable to resist running my fingers over them later, and the thought sent a surge of pleasure through me. It was a deliberate pattern too, I knew. There was no anger, no brutality behind this, the strokes all carefully aimed as if the wielder was merely using the crop like a skilled artist might use a paintbrush, my body having the dubious privilege of acting in place of the canvas.

It was an intense experience, made more so by everything else I was simultaneously going through, my exhaustion, soreness, my complete helplessness. And my reaction was equally intense. I tried to cry out through the gag, trembled, even wiggled a little, but of course there was no reprieve and no escape for me. The crop sent a fire through me, a fire that burrowed deep into my core and brought out my hidden, dark desires, every small dose of pain followed up with a tiny dose of pleasure.

The crop did not restrict itself to the exposed portions of my buttocks either. The soles of my feet and my breasts, far more sensitive areas, also received a smaller share of strokes, although these ones were gentle, such that despite where they landed, they felt almost tender compared to what I was accustomed to, intimate rather then truly painful. Of course, every stroke on my breasts also caused the clamps to wiggle just a little, granting me a fresh reminder of their presence.

There was no logical reason to justify why my body worked this way, but the intense, unrelenting spanking was what ultimately pushed me over the edge as I experienced my second orgasm. Once again I had to fight myself in order to stay still, having additional incentive to do so with the hook being present. It was even more challenging this time, as I was far more exhausted then the previous time, my muscles burning in protest against what I was ordering them to do.

With how far my head was pulled back, my throat was partially constricted. Coupled with the massive gag blocking my mouth, this made breathing a challenge at best, as I could only breathe through my nose, through what now felt like a tiny tube.

Experiencing (and fighting!) the throes of an orgasm increased my need for air, panic rising within me as I felt like I was suffocating, my breathing accelerating as I attempted to suck in more air. The illusion of impending asphyxiation only intensified my spasms however, which meant I had to exert my body even more to fight them, which meant I needed even more air, creating an ever-escalating cycle. As it continued, I grew more and more desperate, listening to the furious pounding of my heart as it tried to keep up with everything that was happening to me.

"Calm down. Breathe slowly. Everything is fine." Everything was not fine! I tried to listen to the voice but I needed more air, my breathing remaining shallow and frantic.

"Listen to me! Breathe in... and out..." The voice coached. "In... and out..."

The nearly shouted command snapped me out of my panic and I followed along, finally managing to regain control of my breathing, and indeed, there was no problem, as I still had just enough ability to draw in oxygen.

"Good, like that. Good. You are fine." A hand reassuringly rubbed my back.

My pleasure receded, my body beginning to calm down again.

The crop, having been temporarily interrupted by my brief moment of panic, resumed it's work. If a single strike of the crop had been like a painful sting, by now my rear end felt like it had instead been stung by a whole hive of bees.

Before I had been in pain, now I was in agony, and despite how intensely aroused and sensitive I now was, the vibrator was no longer anywhere near sufficient to offset it. There was only me and the unrelenting pain, all over. Normally what I would do in such a situation would be to visualize it spreading through my body, and then try to release the built up tension via frantic struggling. Of course I could not actually do that, it becoming clear exactly what the main purpose of my predicament was. All I could do was repeatedly tense my already exhausted muscles over and over in shallow imitation of what I really wanted to do.

My body was well toned, conditioned even, from too much - perhaps far too much - prior experience with similar situations, but even my considerable limits were being pushed now...

I mentally cataloged my list of torments, needing something, anything to focus on. It was the only option available to me, as I was unable to think about anything else.

Every time I dared to move my head, my hair pulled at my scalp and the hook felt like it was digging deeper inside of me. My jaw was wrenched open by the absurdly over-sized gag. My neck was strained from holding the unnatural position, and so was my ached back. My shoulders were in agony from having to periodically support part of my body weight, and my arms burned from having to pick up the slack when my shoulders needed to rest. My abused nipples constantly reminded me that, indeed, they were still clamped, as I could feel the chain connecting them swaying any time I dared to flinch.

Ropes dug into my body around my breasts, waist, wrists, and on my legs, leaving what I knew would be intense rope marks. My abdominal muscles were not in much better shape then my arms, having to help hold my upper body at an unnatural diagonal. My legs were even worse off from attempting to hold my balance in a precarious position that allowed for no movement. My knees were not even worth discussing, having (thankfully) mostly gone numb at this point. My soles, breasts and especially my bottom were absolutely covered in crop marks, every single one stinging fiercely, the addition of fresh ones a still ongoing process.

And of course, to cap it all off, my groin was a kaleidoscope of just about every feeling imaginable. The vibrator dutifully continued to work its magic. The crotch rope had long since started to feel like it was a permanent part of me. Parts of the area were numb from pressure, and the rest were swollen and sensitive, begging for any sort of relief, and even the slightest shifting on my part made all of it feel ten times worse then it already did.

My entire body was tensed, from constant pain, from the requirement to maintain my difficult position. I could not relax for a second or find any kind of comfort for any part of my body. To say that I was exhausted was an understatement. Even breathing was becoming something I had to actively work at.

I could hear pathetic-sounding sniffling, although I quickly recognized it as my own, sensation and perception now all disjointed as I felt like I was outside of my own body, looking in at my own suffering.

I drifted on further, locked in my endless, futile struggle with my own senses. I wanted to turn them off, feel nothing for even a moment, but of course I could not, and instead the endless flood of pain continued, unrelenting.

But then the long awaited switch began to flip. Whatever biochemical cocktail of chemicals and hormones my body was releasing had finally reached a saturation point as the pain started to rapidly recede. I felt myself relaxing, plunging into that long awaited ocean of pure bliss that came after all the suffering.

I still felt the crop landing, still acknowledged it as something that was happening. Still felt everything else. But it was distant now. Not painful, pleasant. My mind was empty of worries as I began to feel as if I was floating, completely safe and at peace.

All the constantly building tension drained from my body as I slumped, now only held up by the ropes, feeling like I was slowly melting into them. Had I still been experiencing things 'normally', this would have been agonizing. As it was, this only deepened the pleasurable feelings.

I had no idea how much time had passed, it could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours, I was that far gone, unable to properly focus on anything, but I was vaguely aware that at some point I had yet another orgasm, a gentle one that rolled over me like waves slowly washing over a beach.

Some time later, the crop had finally desisted in its assault against my body, which, if I was still capable of such coherent thought, might have annoyed me, as by now every strike had become almost rapturous.

"I am going to let you down now. Try to stay still a little longer." The voice was gentle now, almost soothing, no longer harsh and merciless as before. I had absolutely no response, unable to muster any such a thing.

Then the vibrator stopped. The pressure between my legs was reduced, and blood rushed back to that abused area of my body.

I was barely lucid, and events were fuzzy, so the next thing I remembered was lying on my side on the floor, my arms and legs still tied together, but otherwise mostly free. Normally I might have tried to stretch out my body for the first time in what had been far too long, but instead I just lay there, completely relaxed, feeling utterly wonderful.

The hook had been removed, and despite how oppressive it had initially felt, I felt strangely empty without it. Then the clamps came off, again with the intense rush of what would have normally been pain, but now was nothing but pleasure as I moaned in ecstasy, my first proper reaction to anything in a while, indicating I was starting to come off my pain-induced high.

Some time passed, and I slowly drifted back to reality, feeling a gentle hand stroking my cheek, listening to whispered words of comfort as the voice spoke to me, praising me, telling me how good of a girl I was, how well I had done, continuing to make me feel wonderful such that my return to the land of rational thought might be a less jarring one.

Eventually all the aches and pains began to return, and I began to make noises through my gag, indicating that I wished to be freed.

I was still blindfolded, but now I felt my gag being removed. It took real effort to free it from my mouth, due to how it had been wedged in, and I was certainly in no physical condition to render any real assistance. I coughed, finally able to close my mouth, carefully working my jaw. After a few moments I tried to speak, only managing a pathetic croak.

"Shh, Shh. Just drink." My head was lifted up and a glass was pressed to my lips. I drank without thinking, my body desperate to quench it's intense thirst.

It took two full glasses before I stopped drinking, and I was allowed to lay my head back down.

I was lifted up, placed on what felt like a couch, my body splayed out over it as I lay on my belly. The remaining restraints were removed.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this now."

Pain. Blood rushed back to my limbs as they were massaged in order to restore proper circulation. I whimpered into the cushion, too weak to resist.

Eventually it was over, and now a numbing cream was being rubbed onto my body. It only served to take the edge off, but it was still a welcome relief. Some small degree of strength was returning to my limbs, but I chose to rest, only taking action when hands tried to flip me over, which I assisted them with, and the cream was applied to the rope marks on my front.

I let it all happen, making no attempts to move. Soon it was over and I was alone again, at least for a short while. Lacking any sources of fresh pain to reinvigorate me, a deep, heavy exhaustion began to overtake me.

Someone climbed onto the couch next to me, their naked body rubbing against mine. There was not much space, and I was pressed back, pinned between the back and the intruder. A blanket covered us both, and I suddenly realized that I had been shivering.

I felt their arms around me, a gentle, tender, and most importantly to me right now, warm, embrace.

More whispering, more praise. I let it wash over me, soothing all the residual pains I was still prominently experiencing.

It was not long before I fell asleep, a well deserved, peaceful rest, filled with the most wonderful of dreams.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Well, later then I would have liked, but better late then never... Perhaps a little rushed, but it seemed wrong to drag things out even more.
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Post by tickletied84 »

Not rushed at all - a wonderfully intense addition to the earlier chapters. The combination of pleasure, pain, discomfort and joy came through very well!
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Post by slackywacky »

I agree with [mention]tickletied84[/mention], it did not feel rushed. It was a wonderful story, describing the feelings very well. And some of them I know from experience. So, thank you for writing this. I am glad you added chapter 2 and 3, it sort of makes the story complete.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

tickletied84 wrote: 1 year ago Not rushed at all - a wonderfully intense addition to the earlier chapters. The combination of pleasure, pain, discomfort and joy came through very well!
slackywacky wrote: 1 year ago I agree with tickletied84, it did not feel rushed. It was a wonderful story, describing the feelings very well. And some of them I know from experience. So, thank you for writing this. I am glad you added chapter 2 and 3, it sort of makes the story complete.
I appreciate the words of support! My goal with this was to describe an experience in detail (and as realistically as possible given the fictional and somewhat absurd nature), and it seems based on people's reactions, this was mostly a success. So I am quite glad to see that.

When I said rushed, perhaps I should have clarified that I meant time spent, not the actual pacing of the text/story. If anything, that might have the opposite problem of repeating/meandering a little. Well, something to learn from perhaps.

And yes, chapters two and three were sort of unplanned, hence the tonal shift between chapter one and two, but as mentioned, it seemed odd to just cut it off there.
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Post by GreyLord »

Your conclusion, @BlissfulMisery, did not lose any of the intensity of your beginning. Your description of the aftercare was appreciated. Thank you for offering us this gem.
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