30 Days of Kink: Day 4

Any early experiences that, in retrospect, hint at your kinks?

Well…..

I feel like this question is a bit redundant, because of my answer yesterday, but for the sake of answering the question, I’ll recount one of my earliest fantasies.  I can’t exactly remember when I first came up with this scene, but I know it was shortly after hitting puberty, and really kind of reflects the new sexual energy all of my fantasies began to get charged with.  It’s pretty tame compared to other fantasies that I’ve had, but it’s something that’s stuck with me through the years, something I still think of from time to time, although knowledge and experience have drastically altered it from the original.

And because I a) don’t completely remember exactly what it started out as, and b) I’m pretty sure it would be laughable now, to my adult brain, I’ll tell the current version, rather than the original scene that I thought about at 11 or 12.

I come home to see my boy lying, naked, hooded, and gagged on the floor where I left him.  A short leash connects his collar to one of the many O-rings that had been drilled into various points in the ceilings, walls, and floors of my home.  A smooth, steel anal hook is tied firmly to the back of his hood, disappearing inside him.  Thick leather mitts cover his hands, preventing him from removing the hood, gag, or hook.  The collar and leash are both locked, and I possess the keys.

I walk up to him and nudge his hooded face gently with the top of my foot.  He had apparently been asleep, but stirs groggily and mumbles around the gag.  I grin down at him as he instinctively pulls himself closer to my foot.

“Aww, my sweet boy,” I murmur quietly, crouching down and hooking a finger through his collar, pulling him closer.  “Did you miss me?”

He nods, wrapping his arms around my feet and curling himself around me, wanting to be close.  I stay there for a moment, letting him cling to me as I gently run my fingers up and down his back, occasionally reaching down to push the hook farther inside him.  Then, I abruptly rise to my feet and walk away, ignoring his pleading whines as he reaches blindly for me, pulling against the very short leash that keeps him in place.

I can still hear his muffled voice calling for me as I make my way down the hall and into the bedroom.  But he can wait.  I want a shower.

I take my time in the shower, closing my eyes and letting the warm water run over me.  Finally, I turn it off, wrap a towel around myself, and walk back out to the living room, where he’s still lying there, waiting for me.

He’s on his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms, completely unaware that I’m standing over him.  I press my foot against his ass, pushing the hook further into him, startling him with the unexpected pressure.  He squirms and moans, trying to turn, but I keep the pressure on with my foot, holding him there.

I wait a moment, then finally move my foot, letting him roll over onto his back.  In the next instant, I’m kneeling down beside him, my hand diving between his legs, my head lowering to the side of his head, just beside his ear, feeling the soft leather against my cheek.

The hood covers his ears, but he can still hear me just fine.  “You’re mine, little slut,” I murmur, squeezing and twisting his cock until he gasps and whimpers, his soft whines fueling my desire.

I watch him squirm for a moment, thoroughly enjoying his reaction to the pain I’m causing him, then release him and turn my attention to his hood.  I take it off, remove his gag, and immediately straddle his face, his tongue against my clit, his nose in my ass.

I don’t have to tell him what I want.  He already knows.  He obediently begins his worship, begins licking and lapping at me.  His knowledge of my body and my desires is extensive, and he uses that now, uses that knowledge to give me the pleasure I want from him.

Keeping his arms pinned under my legs, I lean forward, playing with his half-hard cock, teasing and tormenting it, then reaching further down between his legs, tugging on the hook inside him.  His soft moans are captured in the folds of my body.

He loves this.  He loves having his mouth used.  It’s one of his favorite things, and I feel like rewarding him for being so well-behaved as he waited for me, bound and hooded, and chained to the floor.  It’s such an easy way to reinforce his obedient, compliant behavior.

Good things tend to happen to obedient sluts, after all.

I let him lick me for a bit longer, his eagerness and enthusiasm evident in the feel of his tongue against me.  But then, I raise myself up, chuckling at his whines of protest as I move out of his reach.

I remove the hook from him, quickly replacing it with a lockable plug.  He takes a deep, shuddering breath as the plug begins spreading inside him.  I lock the plug, then kiss him gently on the forehead as I replace the gag.  He groans softly, obviously wishing I’d leave the gag off, but his obedience overrides his reluctance, and he opens his mouth as I push the gag in place, buckling it behind his head.

I pat him affectionately on the head, then leave him there again, still chained to the floor.  He looks longingly after me, then resigns himself to his position, shifting to try and ease the pressure of the large plug inside him.  Sighing, he knows there’s nothing he can do but wait for me to decide to use him again, hoping that I’ll reward him by letting him up, letting him crawl into my lap, and holding him close.

He can hope.

3 thoughts on “30 Days of Kink: Day 4

  1. Mic says:

    Wouldn’t it be interesting to compare this (very adult) scene with the initial version? Just for yourself?

    Why should it be laughable – it’s part of your developing history of being a dominant.

    • Domina Jen says:

      You’re right, and I have looked back on the original-ish version and compared it to the current one. And while yes, the original shows my history as a Dominant, it’s laughable because I simply didn’t know anything about anything. I look back and can’t help but chuckle at my own ignorance.

      But then again, I think I was 11 when I first thought of the original. I remember thinking about it during class at a specific junior high school that I only went to for sixth grade. So that would’ve been 11 or 12. I mean, so of course it’s laughable, looking back as an adult. I was completely without a clue, and had no basis for reality. I was so young, so naive, and trying to figure out why I wanted what I wanted.

      • Mic says:

        That’s what I meant. You came across this kind of feelings and thoughts when a majority of children maybe doesn’t even know, what this whole sexuality-thing is about. You’ve surely come a long way since but every journey starts with the first step.

        Brave one! 🙂

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