the gentleman

i have mulled over how i am going to put down the following thoughts, senses and feelings, without distorting the events too much, or even causing the gentleman concerned any insult. in these situations, a little tact doesn’t go amiss, so i find sticking as close to my true version of events is the most emotionally logical way forward. but how to begin…

i was feeling somewhat ‘broken’ recently. i was in pain – the emotional pain had also led to physical pain i hadn’t felt in a long while – if ever, that i can recall now. i’d felt like my heart had been quite literally ripped out of my chest – i couldn’t breathe, my hands were shaking; a sense of loss so profound it literally shook me.

when something so emotional happens, that affects my self-esteem and confidence, i tend to turn towards looking for external pleasures, to take my mind and heart off the internal pain.

i had been to local bdsm meetups, to meet like-minded individuals who share a taste for this somewhat darker sexual lifestyle. and, despite being quite an open and social person, i can also be quite shy in group situations – it’s the conservative, more discreet part of my nature, what can i say?

at several of these events i had met a gentleman who was attentive to me, but not overtly. i couldn’t read him instantly – my senses were a little off. the same height as i – blond hair and piercing blue-green-grey eyes, a quirky little smile – the gentleman always welcomed me with open arms. he was cheeky, and charismatic, but i could tell there was a darker side to him – though i hadn’t previously imagined that i would ever get the opportunity to find out more.

we had found each other on a social media platform, so i messaged to say hello. we caught up, and i was explaining how i was in pain, mentally and emotionally, and that i needed someone to just take the emotional pain away. i asked if he would help, to which he delightfully replied, “yes”.

[…]

“do you have any expectations this evening?” he asked me in his faintly french accent.

“none, what-so-ever,” i replied.

[…]

i stood in my calf-length black dress, barefoot, in the centre of your room. above me was a thick beam around which you had hung a metal ring, which now dangled right over me. my hands were clasped in one another behind my back, and i felt naturally at ease.

i was watching you circle me as you worked out how you were going to rig me up – your face intent and somewhat distracted. every now and again i caught your eye, giving you a cheeky little, perhaps ever-so-slightly-nervous, smile. your eyebrows would go up slightly, a lopsided quirk of your top lip as you realised i was watching you watching me.

you and i have never played before, and i didn’t have expectations. i was already aware of your love for the whip and Japanese rope bondage, so it was also curiosity that brought me to you; and a burning need to enjoy a new experience, closing my eyes, getting lost in the sensations and feelings.

you stood behind me, put your hands on my shoulders, and stroked down my arms, forcing me to unclasp my hands and drop them to my sides.

you’re an artist. you use your hands to create works of art, from your own handmade electrical stimulation power box and assorted attachments, similar to the well known wand, to your whips and cat o’ nine tails. you’re also an artist with ropes, especially kinbaku, the erotic form of rope bondage hailing from japan centuries ago.

it’s truly thrilling seeing so much creativity in one person, and to be part of his work of art. 

you unzipped my dress, slowly, and pulled it down over my shoulders so it slid over my curves to lay in a puddle around my feet. i’m standing in matching dark, teal blue, silk underwear, my scorpion tattoo, the tail following the curve of my right hip, has just been filled in – she sort of glows faintly from the green and yellow ink, and is still sore from two hours under the machine, which was itself delicately handled by an expert.

my hair up, neck exposed, you moved closer to me. i could feel your body heat behind me, and your lips hovering millimetres from my skin, so your breath just barely tickled my neck, as you followed the curve down my shoulder. you bit down, hard, and i squealed in surprise – i could feel your teeth had left dark little red marks on my trapezius, the taught area of muscle between my neck and my clavicle.

you came around my right side. in your right hand you held a length of what looked like sailor’s hemp rope.

you looped the rope around my shoulders, so it rested on my biceps and sternum and began to pull it rhythmically from either side. the tight feel of the rope rubbing across the bare skin on my arms was delightful – coarse and prickly, and so fucking hot. i knew i would have rough marks left on me.

i revelled in that moment; knowing that those marks would be gone tomorrow but loving their redness now.

walking around me once more, you unhook my bra and slide it off me, placing it considerately on the chair nearby, along with my dress. your arms come up again, the ropes circling me. you have me move my left arm into a position where my left hand clasps the back of my neck, forcing my left elbow up in the air. you begin a series of intricate ties and knots that i can’t follow, and once you have finished i realise that i can’t move my arm out of that position.

the feeling of my arm being restricted in such away is already turning me on.

you continue to walk around me, stroke across my right breast, tickling my nipple then squeezing it maliciously so i squeal out loud. my left nipple is pierced, and out of a small box to the side, you pull a slim chain with a ring on it. you hook the ring into my nipple ring, then thread the chain through the metal ring that is attached to the wooden beam above me. you tug it once, twice, and again. i let out a squeal of delight as my nipple is treated so roughly – squeezing my eyes slightly, lifting my chin up, and looking at you through squinted eyes.

you are watching the reactions on my face, and how my body responds, and i imagine that you are getting quite turned on also.

looking into my eyes, you give me the slim chain to continue my own personal, pleasurable torture. i pull on it, sliding back and forth with my right hand, so i feel the tension in my left nipple as it’s pulled out, away from me, stretched as far as it can go… and a little further. i do so enjoy these little torturous nipple moments – they are sensitive, and i love them being roughly handled.

you’re behind me again. you pull up my foot, so i’m standing on my right leg, and place what felt like a thick rubber band across the bridge of my left foot. you gave it a slight snap – all that was needed as it whipped across my skin, making me yelp again, and then giggle. the sting across the base of my foot kept throbbing, and i didn’t put weight on it, rather remained standing on tiptoes. and i still couldn’t move much, not with my left elbow still up in the air, and my left nipple chained to the metal ring.

the day before at kickboxing training i had accidentally kicked the trainer when he hadn’t been holding the big pad on his leg – and it hadn’t been a gentle kick either. my right shin was throbbing, bruised somewhat… and i couldn’t bend my foot so well. i had told you about this, earlier, over dinner. you had tucked that little bit of information away, i realised, when you bent down to my right leg, and began to tie more cordage around my right shin. but it didn’t sit right with you and, standing up to unhook the chain from my nipple ring, you supported me while you pulled me down to the floor, so that i lay on my back, one elbow still up in the air.

you joined me on the carpet and pulled out my right leg so that it rested in your lap. looping the rope under my knee and around my leg, you then proceeded to knot and tie down my right calf and shin so that my leg looked like it was encased in gladiator sandals, the knots and ropes running criss-cross over it.

when you reached my ankle, you looped the rope around my large toe and back again, causing the tension to change whenever i moved my leg or toe. the rope was tightly pulled over my bruised shin, and you pushed the rope knots in every now and again, causing the bruise to throb and me to yelp yet again – at which point you flicked the rubber band on my left foot again. i couldn’t help but let out, “ow!”, followed by a bark of a laugh – for laughter is my shield also.

i was lying prone on your carpet – my legs spread before you. you dipped into one of your many storage boxes and pulled out a stirrup, which you proceeded to run up the inside of my leg from the base of my foot to my inner meridian. the stirrups points were pleasurable over certain parts of me, but you knew all the ones where those points would almost make it feel as though they were about to pierce my skin.

it tickled, and i wriggled, and giggled.

gently over my tattoo first, you pulled down my knickers, the silk sliding across my soft tanned legs, and placed them next to my bra. you ran your hands the length of my body, from shoulders, down my chest, over my nipples, then following the shape of my body to the sides where my hips are; i am tingling all over.

sitting opposite me and between my legs, you are watching my chest rise and fall, whether my eyes are closed, lost in pleasure, or open and wondering what the next move is.

and you’re so silent, because words aren’t necessary.

your eyes are drinking me in.

they follow the curve of me, across the bump of my stomach and down my pelvis towards my cunt.

i’m watching you as your fingers begin stroking the insides of my thighs; i’m there shivering with anticipation before you. you trace my dark brown lips – already glistening – up and down with your fingertips, until you reach for my clit, slowly circling around.

i can’t help letting out a low moan of pleasure, and my pussy hole contracts, as i squirt in front of you. your finger pauses its circling, and your eyebrows go up slightly in surprise. you test out the motion again, my pea hard under your tip – i gush. so, you stop and let me lie there, catching up with my orgasm.

you reach into your cupboard drawer and pull out a wooden peg. leaning forward, you place it on my right nipple, the one without the ring. then you squeeze the ends together so it pinches me hard, and all i can feel is my cunt contract again and i cum once more as you continue to torment my nipple by twisting it with the peg on. i squeal in exhilarating torture.

you lean forward, moving onto your knees, and begin nibbling at me, slowly up my belly from my cunt. when you get to my left side, just where my waistline is, you bite into my skin and suck hard at the same time. i let out a gasp of surprise, my eyes shooting open, and my pussy getting wetter – the pain making it so much sweeter.

i know there will be matching teeth marks for the next week all over my body.

you work your way up my chest towards my left nipple with the piercing and begin nibbling gently before biting down hard.

the pain is exquisite.

you flip me over onto my stomach, and you’re still looming behind me. you reach down to my shoulder blades with your lips, and i feel them follow the line of my right blade towards the rib cage area under my right arm. you pause, gently circling with your breath hot on my skin, then lower your head towards me and take hold of a chunk of me between your teeth. you bite, hard, and suck. i let out a shocked guttural sound and go to move away, but you have pinned my left arm down with yours, and your body is hot on top of mine.

i take that bite, and i want more.

your teeth release my skin, and i let out a sigh as the pain decreases and subsides -there’ll be a bruise there tomorrow for sure.

i feel you move on top of me. you are naked now. your member hard at the bridge of my ass where my coccyx is located. you kiss my neck, my arms pinned beneath you, above my shoulders. you follow my nape till you reach the same area on my rib cage under my arm, on the left side this time, and dutifully follow through with a vicious and delicious bite, hard enough to leave its mark. i squeal in delight.

and the next moment you are moving off me. a cool breeze from the open roof window above tickles my skin. i lie there waiting, unsure what i should be doing. but you have it all sorted – i feel a cane come down on my right ass cheek, and my whole body bucks as i move to sit with my head up, my legs crossed at the ankles and giggling with laughter, because it’s really pain i am feeling.

i feel your cane come down on my left ass cheek, and the whole reaction happens again – i buck, then giggle, every part of my body tense in the moments after.

you flip me back over – my ass still stinging from just one stroke of the cane on each cheek; i had forgotten what the cane felt like. maybe next time there will be more?

you dip into your box again and pull out something that resembles a vibrator, but i don’t recognise it. personally, i find vibrators tedious, and when you first placed this on my clit at the lowest setting, i thought that would be the case again. however, as you began to increase the vibrations on this very silent vibrator, i could feel my clit getting hard and arousal blossoming, spiralling out from my centre to all other parts of my body, and i came, so hard – squirted all over your lovely carpet.

you lean forward and lick me out, your tongue expertly finding the right motions to make me cum hard again.

i hope i taste wonderful for you.

you sit up again, your fingernails tracing the skin up my arms, and then scratching down my chest, over nipples, catching my ring – i gasp again as i see you have left scratch marks all over me; in addition to all the existing bite and cane marks.

you take the vibrator again and hold it against my clit, and i squirt openly and far on your floor, all over your hand and up your arm. you haven’t restrained me once yet, but you have bitten me all over, and i’ve felt the sting of your cane. my right nipple is completely senseless from the peg twisting that you have given her, and my left nipple with the piercing is sore, and very sensitive to the touch from when you bite me earlier on that evening.

this balance between the pain and pleasure you give is so controlled. i appreciate it so much. and it really makes me want to please you. that was the overwhelming urge right at that moment – despite you giving me so much release, i want to know that i have pleased you in return.

i feel privileged to have turned you on.

i wasn’t aware of what you thought of my looks or my person, not really.

you’re so damned quiet.

a gentleman,

listening and paying attention to spoken and unspoken needs and desires.

…and in-so-doing, i know you get your pleasures in return.

Lil Green Wildling xx

Written and photographic content is © All rights are reserved.

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