Loneliness And A Sore Clit

Imagine one of those humongous rollercoasters, all the peaks and troughs. That is a pretty good representation of my cycle. Well, maybe the peaks and troughs are so marked, but nonetheless, it’s a good analogy. 

Usually, there’s someone available to address my somewhat rapacious sexual needs, but not always. When Emily is away, I can go a couple of weeks between someone else’s hands on me. 

I knew I was in trouble when, during an attempt at a move that is way beyond my skill level, I feel, somewhat inelegantly down the pole and twisted my ankle. A white hot stab of pain shot up my leg making me feel quite nauseous and faint for a few minutes. Another girl - a client - helped me to the changing room and sat me down before grabbing an ice pack and wrapping it round my ankle. Now, I was in a leotard, as was she. I know her and know her to be 18. 

Well of course I was wet! Why the fuck do you think I was there in the first place? I’ve been horny for days, been masturbating with increasing frequency for about a week, and since I wasn’t wearing panties, I knew very well that I’d leaked through the thin material of the leotard. As Daphne knelt between my open legs holding the ice pack on me, I saw her turn her head towards me, glance down for the briefest second, and inhale deeply. Then she looked up and into my eyes. Daphne is blessed with the sexiest ‘come-to-bed’ eyes you will ever see. A brief telepathic communication took place. 

“You’re so wet I can smell you.”

“Yes, I know. I’m rabidly horny.”

“You need an orgasm - badly”

“No…I need to be fucked senseless.”

‘“Hmm. Well, I’m wet too…if only I was interested in girls.”

“You might like to try?”

“Umm.. no, but thank you. Good luck.”

All this past in a blink of an eye, and I knew Daphne would at least rub one off…just not with me.

Ice treatment works best if it’s applied immediately. That and a couple of paracetamol and ibuprofen and I felt safe enough to drive. I don’t need my left foot for that anyway. 

Back home, I peeled the leotard off and looked with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance into the heavily creamed up crotch. I’ve already masturbated three times today, yet I clearly needed to go again! Fuck! 

For once, I didn’t even let Miss Brain choose the toys, I just grabbed a few things, which, when I actually looked at them, included nipple clamps, and the dildo I use for bum-fucking myself. 

Soon, I was lying on the bed, my erect nipples clamped beyond the pain threshold, and my clit felt like it would burst. I do have a clit clamp, but until today, I’d never used it. Today, I needed something extreme. So, I found it, and applied it. Fuck, it hurt, in a delicious ‘hurt me some more’ kind of way. It seemed to slow the flow of blood back out of my clit so it swelled up way beyond its normal aroused size and was exquisitely effective. Wetness was, by now oozing from me in a ready stream. So much so that the anal dildo needed no additional lubrication. It slid inside me with the minimum of resistance, and began to sting, as it usually does. 

One day, I’ll try to describe my thoughts on how and why sexual arousal transmutes pain into pleasure. I felt totally wired…alive…every nerve ending screaming with sexual pleasure. All I needed now was Miss Brain’s assistance. 

Sometimes, she is a really weird sexual ally. I closed my eyes, waiting to see what she’d do. Almost immediately, we were back in that changing room at the pole dancing club. Daphne was kneeling between my spread knees, just as she had been, but wait….what the fuck? As my imagination stared at Daphne, I started to notice things. Her tiny tits for one, not that I mind tint boobs, but more intriguing was the bulge growing in ‘her’ leotard. Definitely cock-shaped, and definitely of some impressive size, 

My imagination had the same eye-to-eye communication as before, except this time the conversation was very different. 

“What the fuck…?”

“Yes, I’m a man. Let’s keep this our little secret, ok?”

“Let’s keep what our secret?”

“That I'm going to fuck you bloody up your arsehole.” 

So saying, she knelt between my legs and I felt the crotch of my leotard being pulled wide. More fiddling around and I felt a huge penis pressing against my bum hole. Some pushing stretched me wide, well past the white-hot stinging sensation and then he was inside me…fully inside me. I’ve never felt so full in my life. He wraps his arms around me, so when my manager pops her head round the door, it merely looks like ‘she’ is comforting me. She even has the temerity to look over her shoulder and say “She’ll be fine. We’ve got it covered.” My manager withdraws, and ‘Daphne’ begins to fuck me ip the bum in earnest. 

“She’ whispers in my ear in that androgynous voice, “You’re the only person who knows I’m male. Let’s keep it that way, ok?” And to think…I’ve masturbated over this ‘girl’. I’ve imagined smelling her, licking her, I’ve even masturbated thinking about her peeing on me and yet now…now I feel the stirring of the awakening dragon within me. The uncoiling of an orgasm at is stretches and reduces itself. Oh, I know I could shuck him off me if I chose. One move and I could hospitalise him, but ohhh….the feeling in my bum. I realise I want this more than my next heartbeat. His act of rape has become my deepest desire. 

Now and then, Miss Brain turns her volume down and allows me to sample the real world, just for a second. My nipples are screaming with pain, but they are as nought to the fire and ice landing through my engorged clit. The clamp has exposed every single nerve ending, and my finger is barely grazing it. The other hand is fucking my bum vigorously. 

Miss Brain resumes control of my consciousness. I feel him growing impossibly hard in my bum…I even find I can distinguish between the stretching there and the movements he is causing my uterus to undergo. Miss Brain flashes the impossibility that he will cum so hard, his sperm with go straight through my bum and into my womb. The depravity of that single thought makes me feel him cum, but not before he has told me “I’m going to cum up your fucking amazing arsehole.”

I’ve never cum like this before. Just before I lose consciousness, I feel myself not only squirt, but begin to pee in a long, amber arc. I know nothing more. 

Half an hour passes before I wake up, still bathed in sweat. I undo the nipple clamps and note that I’m actually bruised. But my battered tits are as nought to what is between my legs. My clit is a deep, deep purple, and touching the clamp is exquisitely painful. I take a full ten minutes to ease its pressure and release myself from its grip. My clit shows no sign of going back to its usual size, and I am scared I’ve damaged myself. I can even imagine the conversation. “Well…it was like this doctor…..I slipped in the shower, and…..” 

A cold bath perhaps? Well. Not cold maybe, but certainly very, very cool! I swear to God that as I lower my bottom half into the water, I can hear a hiss and imagine I see steam. The cold water feels wonderful on me though. I stay exactly where I am for the better part of an hour. When I get out of the bath, I’m relieved to see my clit it’s normal size and colour again, but holy fuck is it sensitive and sore! It will be a while before I dare ven put panties on….not that that troubles me much. As for touching it….you must be fucking joking. 

Miss Brain smiles. She knows that even this feeling in my clit will make me cum if coupled with the correct fantasy…for example, this one. She flashes me a still image of an event that has never happened. My dad, fucking me face-to-face, and with the intent of getting me pregnant. I feel an instant pre-orgasmic throb, and I know damn well I will cum again tonight purely from something in my cunt and a pleasant excursion from Miss. Brain. 

(P.S It took five days for the clitoral soreness to recover. Five pantiless  days, oozing girl cum almost constantly, and cumming three times a day minimum. Even taking a pee made me cum initially, even though there was no sexual intent. I need to get laid. I don’t care by whom. Alice and I haven’t goofed around for a couple of weeks. I can’t speak for her, but I’m sure and shit ready. The thing is, what I’m ready for may be well beyond what she’s comfortable with. I want it hot and dirty - no romance, no gentle kissing…I want to be done…used as a sex object by someone who is as horny as I am. Throw me on the floor, fuck me, turn me over, fuck my bum, then stick your cock in my mouth and unload there. Applications on a postcard please.)