Find My Limits

Helen stood looking at the phone, her knuckles pressed against her teeth, willing herself to pick it up and dial! Eventually she did, but only to slam it down again before it chance to ring at the other end!

'One deep breath' she told herself, 'then ring him!'

She squared her mental shoulders, breathed deeply and dialled.

"Hello?"

"Graham?"

"Yes."

"It's Helen." A pause, - a long pause! "Let's do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, do it like we talked about! Hurt me! Let's see what I can take!

"Ok, come round Tuesday then!" The 'phone went dead.

Helen slowly replaced the receiver, unable to believe that she had actually done it, actually committed herself to meet with Graham the sadist, and invited him to hurt her! But she had! Her heart pounded and her hands felt clammy, but she also felt strangely elated, and so strong!

Graham had contacted her through an online dating service, and the two had met a few weeks before. Then he had tied her, spanked her, fucked her, and generally abused and humiliated her, and she had loved it. Her only reservation was that certain elements of their session had, in her mind, detracted from the pleasure of others. She had liked being bound and helpless, but for use as a sexual plaything, not in the sadistic sense. The same went for the humiliation of the session. It would be fine - very fine - if she were someone's sex slave, but not whilst she was under discipline. The apparent contradiction did not occur to her, she just knew that she had very much enjoyed the pain he had inflicted and wanted to try taking more, a lot more, but only if she was forcing herself to stay still and accept it, rather than being unable to avoid it. Somehow taking discipline while under bondage or domination didn't work for her, she wanted to be a willing victim taken freely to the limit of her endurance.

So Helen had contacted him again, telling him of her thoughts and preferences, that she wished for discipline mixed with sex instead of discipline mixed with bondage. It was also, she told him, very important to her that she take the pain and sexual misuse willingly. She wanted him to mix abusive sexual acts with sadistic ones while she gloried in her own control over her body.

In the end he had agreed, warning her that he would not hold back just because she was not tied down. Do as you wish, take me to the limit, she had told him. A safe word, no electric shocks (she had a fear of electricity) and no permanent damage were the only restrictions. She shuddered as she thought about it, but whether from fear or anticipation she was unsure!

.................................

On the appointed day Helen knocked softly, almost timidly, on Graham's door. He answered wearing casual clothes, not somehow what Helen had expected. One way or another she half expected that he would be dressed in an executioner's mask and a black leotard! Her mind was obviously running riot!

"Come in" He turned and led the way down the hall.

She went through into his lounge, admiring works of modern art on the walls and softly minimalist furnishing. Nothing gothic about this place at all! "Helen, your safe word for today will be 'black'. Say it back to me!"

Her mouth was dry and she had to lick her lips before answering him. "The safe word is 'black'."

"Good, as long as you realise that I will only stop when that word is used. We will continue until YOU call a halt, and not until. We will start comparatively gently and build up. That way you can reach levels of pain that would normally send you into shock, but there are chemicals in your brain that allow you to withstand and enjoy much more intense pain if they are allowed time to form!"

"Yes, endorphins, I know of them." Helen nodded, trembling with trepidation and expectation.

"Ok, then I will ask you for a last time, are you sure about this?"

"Yes!" Helen answered quickly, knowing that she could back out if she gave herself time to think about it.

"Then let's do it! You will enjoy it, I know you will! Come, we'll go to my dungeon,"

Graham rose and went out of the room, followed meekly by Helen. The last time she had been here she had been in his bedroom for her much milder introduction to sexual discipline and she had not been made aware of a specific playroom. His 'dungeon' turned out also to be upstairs rather than in a cellar, much to Helen's surprise, but as she entered she could see that it was fully equipped, right down to a spanking bench, a St Andrews cross and a small steel cage. The colour scheme was black and red and the furnishings mainly steel or leather. Around the walls hung implements from whips, riding crops and paddles, to shackles, chains and gags. The gothic effect was heightened when Graham drew the blinds and lit twin candelabras, their flickering light the only illumination. It was a room intended to impose dread in a potential victim.

"Leave your clothes in that basket." Graham was very tactfully telling her to strip, as he was doing himself, revealing a large and prominent erection. Soon she was totally naked and he donned only a leather mask through which his eyes glittered menacingly.

"I will not restrain you as you have expressed the wish to remain unbound, a wish I respect and admire, but I would recommend using the hanging straps to support yourself, in case your legs will not!" He was indicating a pair of subway style leather loops hanging from the ceiling about a metre or so apart. Helen raised her arms, threaded her wrists through the straps and gripped the leather, and then she spread her legs about the same distance apart as her hands, standing starfish like to await her fate.

Graham walked around her several times, looking her over as if making up his mind where to begin, then without warning he reached forward to seize a nipple in each hand and twist them savagely. Helen gasped with hurt surprise, but Graham maintained his grip until her head was thrown back and her teeth gritted against the pain.

Graham resumed his patrol, circling her fully twice more before stepping up close behind her and reaching around to grasp her breasts, moulding them under powerful fingers. Squeezing, tugging, pressing and twisting them, Graham mauled Helen's boobs harshly, holding her tightly against him with his forearms so that she could not 'ride' the abuse. With her back pressed against his chest, his erection was nudging the cleft of her bottom and Helen found that although his use of her breasts was violent and painful, the combination was highly erotic and the warming glow of sexual excitement began to spread through her.

Releasing her he continued to prowl around her, looking her up and down, examining her body, still pale and unmarked but for two somewhat reddened breasts. Again without warning he reached between her legs, inserting two fingers directly into her vagina. Her eyes widened with surprise at the intrusion, but she made no attempt to avoid it.

"Good." He said, "You're already wet!"

Graham began to finger fuck her, ramming his index and forefingers deep into her, pulling them out wet and slippery, as Helen's eyes closed in pleasure. After a little while he changed tactic and began playing with her clit between the same fingers, teasing it, squeezing it, and rubbing it, combining the clit play with two fingers of his left hand repeating the actions on her nipple. Her eyes still closed, Helen breathing was becoming ever more ragged as her arousal climbed higher and higher.

But before she could reach her point of no return his play subtly changed again as his use of her nipple became less gentle and more forceful, pulling at it, nipping it with his fingers and rolling it hard between them. Pain now became the strongest feeling in her breast, but soft pleasure still dominated her clit, and the combination that was taking Helen into uncharted and very erotic seas. She was finding it strangely difficult to distinguish between the pain and the pleasure, and she needed both to continue.

It was not to be though, no sooner had that thought passed through her mind than his hands were removed from her body, the right trailing fingers wet with her own juices across her stomach as it went. Then there was nothing. She stood waiting for his touch to return, but nothing. She opened her eyes and he was gone from her vision, though she sensed he was behind her. So she remained, still starfish like, gripping her straps and waiting for whatever was next, suddenly conscious of her own wetness at the top of her thighs, her pussy overflowing down her legs.

She was so wet because she was already so highly aroused. Now that they had begun the fear had gone to be replaced by excitement and anticipation. Even though they had barely started she knew in her own mind that if he could dish it out, she was strong enough to take it, and come back for more. All she hoped was that before they had finished he would fuck her, and do it brutally! God, she needed it, a full on relentless fucking, filling her without pause and without mercy. More than anything she wanted her cunt stretched and pounded, and even the thought of that was turning her on further.

She was brought out of her reverie by the unexpected sting of a blow across her buttocks, and she jerked forward, suddenly glad of the straps she was holding on to. Looking round in surprise Helen saw that Graham was holding a short but flexible leather crop, the cause of her sudden discomfort.

"Now that I have your attention...?" Graham cocked his head and gazed at her in an almost parental manner. The question was rhetorical, for without waiting for her reply he started to work on her buttocks with short rapid fire strokes, beating a continuous tattoo against her flesh. The strokes were not hard. On their own they would have been no more than just a slight sting, but the unremitting barrage soon built a pain that had Helen squirming and wriggling against it.

Not content with Helen's rapidly reddening backside, Graham began working his way down her legs, sharp little strokes of the crop against the back of her thighs making them tingle, before making his way around the front to begin the journey northwards once more. Soon the whole of her legs were burning from the kiss of the crop and Graham had progressed to her front, striking her belly and breasts more lightly but still with just enough force for those parts of her body to sting like the rest.

Working his way around to the back Graham beat a rapid tattoo against her underarms, her armpits, shoulders and sides down until he had once more reached her buttocks. There he unexpectedly stopped and instead thrust the end of the crop between Helen's legs, pushing it against her pussy so that the bringer of such pain suddenly became an implement of pleasure.

"Did you enjoy that, little one?" He asked.

Helen's breath was coming in short ragged gasps, but she deliberately firmed it up before replying. "Yes."

"Would you like a little more?" He knew she would hardly say 'no'.

"Yes please."

"Where?"

"Wherever you wish!"

Graham lowered the crop from against Helen's pussy, noticing as he did so that the end was damp from her juices. Keeping the crop between Helen's thighs Graham now began to flick it rapidly from side to side, beginning again on her inner thighs the rapid little strokes that had been so affective elsewhere on her body. For the first time Helen emitted a sound of discomfort, a little cry as the first strokes hit home. Automatically she tried to move away from the source of her pain, spreading her legs as wide as she could in an involuntary attempt to avoid the crop. But all this did was allow Graham more room to work in and give him the opportunity to strike higher up the tender flesh between her thighs. Helen twisted and turned in her instinctive efforts to escape her torment, raising first one leg and then the other, trying all the time to keep them away from the sting of the crop, Soon Graham had worked the crop right up the inside of her thighs until he reached the join and began to rain his sharp little raps of the crop against her pussy lips themselves.

Now her writhing took on a different aspect. No longer was she desperately squirming to get out of the way, but instead she was moving herself backwards and forwards with her legs spread, almost as if welcoming the abuse of her most tender parts. Her eyes were closed, she licked her drying lips and her knuckles shone white as she gripped the leather loops. The pain being inflicted upon her was transforming itself into utmost pleasure; her pussy throbbed with it, her being ached for it, her mind exalted with it, and crying out in joy Helen came, her orgasm rolling through her body and carrying her ecstatic suffering to her furthest extremity. Never before had she climaxed from pure pain. She had wondered if she could, if she would, but hadn't expected it to be so soon, so easy, so good. Now she had proved to herself what she had always suspected, that pain and pleasure were but two sides of the same coin.

As her orgasm subsided she found she needed to cling to her hanging straps for support. Her body sagged, her trembling legs lost all strength and her head fell forward, tears of pain, joy, and self discovery streaming down her cheeks. Even so, never had she felt so strong, so powerful, and she smiled gratefully at Graham for giving her the experience.

Graham had ceased beating her pussy as soon as she orgasmed, and now he came around to her front and wrapped his arms around her in support, both physical and mental. He nuzzled her neck, murmured encouragement in her ear and stroked her reddened, sweat-shiny skin.

"Good girl, I knew you could do it, I knew you could take it. Now you know of the pleasures to come."

She could feel his erection against her again, hard and proud, this time pressing into her belly. She wished, she hoped, that maybe soon it would press against her belly from the inside, and the temptation to bend and worship it with her mouth flitted through her mind.

For some moments more Graham held her, then he moved to a shelf and took two small objects from a little black painted box. She tried, but couldn't make out what they were in the flickering candlelight until Graham held them up for her to view. They were nipple clamps, the type held in place with tiny thumbscrews that could be tightened to the desired degree, the nipple held trapped between two tiny crocodile toothed jaws.

Graham attached them fairly loosely at first, but then he moved from one to the other and back again, tightening each a small amount each time, until Helen's tightened mouth and a little groan in the back of her throat satisfied him.

With the clamps in place Graham gently disengaged Helen's hands from the loops and led her to bend over a spanking bench standing bolted to the floor. It stood facing the wall and about four feet away from it, with rings for wrist and ankle shackles and a hand grips low down the legs of the far side. Graham was not using shackles on Helen of course, so he simply used the rings as markers and set her hands and feet alongside them. He then added small but quite heavy weights to the clamps, increasing the way their teeth dug into her. The weights were suspended on short lengths of chain so that any movement caused them to swing freely below her breasts and tug at her already tender boobs. Helen's breath hissed between her teeth at the drag on her nipples as he tested their effectiveness with a flick of his fingers on each weight.

Now that she was fully bent over, gripping the low set hand rail, Helen's bottom was above the height of her head and well presented for Graham's expected attentions. But it was not to her bottom that Graham went first. Instead he took a third little clamp and applied it, to her clitoris, letting the full weight swing between her legs and pull painfully on her tiny button.

With all preparations now complete Graham stationed himself behind her and probed for the entrance to her cunt with his cock. It was not difficult to find, she was still sopping wet with need, and he entered her with one hard thrust, driving himself bollock deep inside her, slamming himself against her behind and setting all three clamp weights swinging. Helen's cry was both of pain and of delight. This is what she had been waiting for, to be fucked roughly, the lack of concern for her pleasure giving her even more of that same pleasure.

Graham's cock was soon pistoning in and out of her cunt, his balls slapping against her arse, her clamps torturing her tender bits and her cries of pain adding to his satisfaction. He was ramming himself at her, thrusting as hard as he could, burying his cock in her body as hard and as forcefully as he could. She was now, just as she had asked, being sexually abused, fucked without mercy, without consideration, and without any sign of compassion. She was Graham's fuck toy and he was using her as he wished.

Then he erupted, gripping her hips so hard as to leave bruises as he slammed into her, spewing out his cum deep into her body. Now she knew why the bench needed to be bolted to the floor. Such was the force of his thrusts that he was actually pushing her further over the bench, lifting her feet from the floor as she fought to stay in position. And then it was over, his thrusts became weaker and less organised, until they were but small spasmodic jerks of his hips and then nothing at all.

After such an immense orgasm Helen would have needed to lie still at least until her breath returned, but Graham simply withdrew his cock and walked around to her front. He was panting and looked a little unsteady on his feet, but otherwise she was in admiration of his stamina as he presented his softening penis to her mouth.

"Clean me up" This was all he said, but Helen didn't really need telling anyway. She was only too pleased to lick and suck the combination of her own juices and his cum from him, enjoying both tastes equally. Soon, his cock now flaccid and cleaned, he pulled away from her and returned to 'his' side of the bench.

"You're a bitch."

For a moment Helen was shocked at his words, wondering what she could have done, but as he continued the light dawned and she knew his apparent loathing to be false. What was he setting the scene for, she wondered?

"You're just like every other woman. You use your body to seduce men. Showing your cunt, letting men see the wetness of it. Inviting men to fuck you like the bitch on heat that you are. You deserve all the punishment that you are about to receive. Don't you?"

He waited silently for her reply.

"Yes. Please discipline me as I deserve." This was getting uncomfortably close to a 'Dom and sub' relationship that really wasn't her scene, but she was willing to go with it so far, but only so far.

"Then we both know where we stand, don't we?" He seemed to understand her lack of enthusiasm and brought the exchange to a close.

Helen rightly assumed the question to be rhetorical, and waited patiently and silently for his next action. Once again it came without warning, and once again it caught her unawares.

She had not seen him reach for one of the candelabras and had not notice him take a lighted candle in each hand, so when the first little stream of molten wax poured down her back, she cried out in alarm and agony. She had enjoyed wax before, but only as individual drops. This was a river that landed across her spine and ran in two rivulets down her flanks. God, how it hurt, burning it's way across her flesh, solidifying as it went, leaving her clutching the bench handles white knuckled and tight-lipped.

The first stream was followed by a second as Graham emptied the molten wax from the second candle over her. This time he didn't just pour it over her in one flood, but trickled it drop by drop into the top of the cleft of her behind, letting it run between her cheeks towards the tender spot of her anus. Again she hung onto the bench, determined not to succumb to the temptation she was feeling to shout 'Black' at the top of her lungs and end the ordeal. Now, with her eyes and mouth all squeezed into tight lines, her body held rigid by the pain, she took it. She allowed it to run over her skin and harden in her crack, the heat dissipating through her tormented flesh.