MORE – lots more

I’ve sensed it over our last few sessions. They’ve seemed more intense. Harder. Deeper. And afterwards a greater feeling of being lost. Shocked. Unsettled.

Or, perhaps it’s just my perception of my sessions with Mistress Elita that has changed. Perhaps, because I’m not seeing her quite as often as I did once, choosing to alternate with intimate sessions of sensual domination with Lilly. Perhaps it’s precisely because I’m letting my Dom out to play more, the contrast with those sessions becoming more disturbing, more shocking.

It’s not just that she’s pushing me harder, though she is now confident enough in her understanding of my kinks to really hurt me when she feels like doing so. Somehow the level of eroticism is higher, the sensuality of her touch, the meaning in her looks. Or perhaps it’s just my perception of these things that has changed, my sessions with Lilly making me more aware of, more in touch with, my own sensuality, my own sexuality even.

I certainly wanted all of it yesterday. She was hurting me, hurting me a lot with her E-Stim machine sending challenging waves of electricity through my cock while both she and Lilly worked on my nipples, each biting one of them hard, seemingly competing with each other to make me squirm and cry out. As they leaned down with their bitey teeth my chest would involuntarily move up to meet them; “Yes, I was saying. Do it. Do it to me!”

Lilly: what happens if I press this? Me: Noooooo!

As Elita kneeled upright again, I breathed; “slap me, please slap me,” wanting the hotness, the intimacy and the violence of that action. And she did, slapping my face backward and forwards, alternating with throttling the breath out of my wind pipe, Lilly still biting my nipples. It was brutal. It was sensual. It was erotic. Elita was so beautiful and so fierce, so in control that I felt the last vestiges of the dominant me that Lilly had played with earlier disappear into my submission.

Then she moved behind me on the bed and I felt her arm close on my throat in a strangle hold. She told Lilly to suck my cock, the electrics now switched off. The contrast was almost unbearable; the beautiful, soft, sensuality of Lilly’s warm mouth, encircling me, sucking me in, and the hard, cold, unyielding bone of Elita’s forearm squashing down on my windpipe, squashing down until I felt myself start to fade. Then she grabbed and twisted my already sore nipples, the pain of it forcing breath back into me and, once again, her arm would be there, threatening, challenging, pushing the limits of my trust.

Fuck.

I mean, really; this stuff is intense as fuck.

I was lost. Lost in pain, lost in submission, lost in a chemical soup of adrenaline and endorphins. I was lost in the beauty of the two women and lost in the feral intensity of the place they had taken me.

If they’d both left then, it would have been hard. But Lilly stayed and helped me come back slowly. We ate poor supermarket sushi and drank good supermarket champagne. She fucked me slowly, her on top, grinding her pelvis against mine until she came. Somehow she found an orgasm deep within me, my second of the afternoon, and brought it to the surface, leaving me shaking for minutes with its intensity.

I played poker afterwards, having a shoulder massage from one of the girls at the casino so that I could be as far away as I felt without it causing comment.

I’m not sure I’m all the way back to myself yet.