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**Owned by Cumulus** I've always felt that while the spoken and written word can be a lie, there is no truth so honest and raw as is a hard cock or a wet pussy - they simply cannot speak false. Whether it is through serving and pleasing via a webcam, typing filthy notes and texts throughout the day, or kneeling before a Dominant's feet, servitude is a very sexual thing for me. Pain has never been the instrument of my submission; lust and need are the music that make me dance. When the walls and social niceties are stripped away, I am a girl who loves to please, who needs to give pleasure in the manner required of her. Whether that is enduring and embracing a pussy or breast flogging, demonstrating oral skills in a webcam chatroom, or blushingly confessing lusts and sins to strangers, I am my truest self when I am submitting in a sexual way. I've known this about myself since I was young, reading John Norman books and dressing up in silk scarves and being 'ravished' by a very butch girlfriend, staring with rapt and throbbing arousal at the description in a horror novel of a tentacle ravishment, or getting wet panties over the most taboo boy in school. I love the thrill of the "unsafe," the illusion of danger, and the utterly feminine animal need to be put in my place and used. I am a size queen and a subby girl, a fellatrix and a erotic writer. I enjoy the exquisite softness of a woman's breast and the broad plane of a working man's shoulders. I love skin the color of chocolate and hands that know how to make my body sing. I love the languid feeling that comes from hours of sweat and skin on skin, and the heady perfume of lust and culmination, when two bodies smell like one.. LIMITS: Illiterate communications, small penises, blood/scat/piss, those who are incapable of giving consent, romance of ANY kind, including use of terms of endearment. ("honey," "baby," "sugar," "darlin," etc. Those belong to the one that Owns me, and their use garners an automatic "no, thank you," response.) * Owned for 12 years by Cumulus. (repeated here as many seem to miss it there at the top of my profile :> )

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10/29/2011 2:23:19 PM

(While this is categorized as a journal entry, it is a story version of actual recent events at a September 2011 Xpressions demo.)


She sat on the edge of her chair, shivering with anticipation, eyes following him as he moved through the room. He had been giving a short opening speech, explaining the purpose and goals of the demo, his quiet voice raised just enough to carry through the play space. One hand extended to her as he said, 'And now....' His eyes met hers and he extended one hand.

She rose and went to meet him, her four inch heels catching slightly on the loose carpet. He caught up her hand, steadying her, and led her into a turn so that she faced the semi-circle of spectators. Her eyes flashed quickly over each of the faces, then she exhaled a shaky breath and nodded her readiness.

He released her hand and strode over to the nearby table, selecting some crimson ropes. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he sent them slithering across the floor, then retracted them smoothly. "The first tie I'd like to show you is a single column..."

The rope slid across her arm, the deep red a startling contrast to her pale skin. His hands moved quickly and surely as he wrapped it over her wrist, demonstrating how to keep just the right amount of tension in the binding. As he completed the knot, he gave the ropes a slight tug to show the audience its strength, and she felt an answering pulse in her sex. When she glanced up at his face - she had been keeping her eyes locked on her own wrist, watching him bind it - his gaze met hers and a hint of a smile curved his lips as if he had some inkling of the response her body had just made.

A double column tie followed - capturing both her wrists - and he then maneuvered her in various ways to show how easily his subject could be moved this way and that or forced to the floor or other vulnerable position. Such a simple thing, being led and moved about on this near-stranger's whim, but it aroused her in a way that she found totally unexpected. His complement on the grace of her decent when he forced her to her knees brought a blushing smile to her face.

They had talked beforehand about her physical limitations, so he only lightly touched on ways of restraining a sub with her arms above her head. A brief moment of elevation, forced her to rise onto tiptoe as he pulled firmly on the rope he had slid through a carabineer hung from one of the building's support beams. His eyes on hers and his mischievous grin as the breath forced itself from her lungs made her squirm even more than the vulnerability of the position he had put her in. He seemed to be taking as much pleasure from her response to the ropes and the energy flowing between them as she was in feeling bound and a little helpless.

Quickly moving from one example to the next, he showed several ways that the double-column tie could be used as a foundation for other more complex types of binding. Her favorite was when he knelt on the floor, bending her at the waist, to use the structure of her black alligator Mary Janes as an anchor upon which to tie her. It made her feel vulnerable and open, her breasts dangling loose within her bra and her ass raised and exposed. She could easily imagine being taken sexually in such a position and the very idea of it made her wet.

He slowly unbound her completely then fetched several more lengths of rope. His last tie of the demo, he explained, would be a decorative one that could also be functional with some small alterations. Standing in front of her, he reached behind her body to slid a doubled over section of rope around her, the movement causing his chest to brush up against her already sensitized nipples. Even through the fabric of her dress and bra, she could feel the warmth of him, and she had to swallow hard to control the rush of saliva in her mouth. He stepped back, adjusting the ropes to sit just below her breasts, the crimson contrasting even more sharply against the black fabric.

This would be a corset tie. He explained the technique clearly, showing the audience the proper way to use the turns and twists of the rope to build the corset, row by row. Sometimes he moved around her, front to back, wrapping the ropes. Other passes, he turned her with a deliciously firm hand on her hip or shoulder. His hands were polite but she could sense his enjoyment as he smoothed and neatened each coil of rope as a it passed around her torso. The constriction continued down her rib cage and waist until the last knot was tied. Normally, she would have been a little self-conscious about her body, but the ropes made her feel sexy and beautiful. With her nodded permission, he invited the audience to come take a closer look. Several had questions which he was more than happy to answer, and a few asked her how the ropes made her feel, both physically and mentally. Her honest response about the level of her arousal and enjoyment caused chuckles and knowing looks.

A glance at the clock showed that the time allotted had passed, so it was with regret that he turned towards her and began undoing his handiwork. As the coils slipped from her body one by one, she knew this was an experience she wanted to explore again. A quick hug of thanks was all she allowed herself, but her mind raced with ways in which she would have preferred to express her appreciation for her time in his ropes.

Next time.


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SlavefortheBEST
 
 Age: 18
  Pennsylvania