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30 Days of Kink: Post a kinky image you find erotic.

May 27th, 2013

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There are so many things to this photo that I find erotic.

Let’s start with the fact that it’s me. Yeah, that’s me in there. And I know how self-absorbed and conceited that sounds. I just said a picture of me in a hood with my tongue clothespinned is erotic. Damn, I must be full of myself.

But it’s not about that. I don’t find myself attractive. Oh, sometimes, when my hair and makeup are just so, and I manage to find the absolute perfect position to sit in, and the camera is at just the right angle, I might be slightly attractive. But most of the time? I look like what I am. A tomboy who will never outgrow her wild side, and will never have nice things because she’s too rough and tumble to avoid ruining them.

I’ve always got bags under my eyes because when I do sleep till the alarm clock goes off, it’s usually broken, or medication induced. More often than not, I’m up at the first hint of morning. My allergies are ridiculous, and I seem to be developing skin problems that I never had before. And I honestly can’t remember the last time I exercised regularly.

But! Me in that hood? That’s pretty hot.

First of all, you can’t tell it’s me. Even if you know me, unless you’ve seen the rest of me enough times that you recognize my body, you can’t tell that the person inside that hood is me. I put my hair up in a bun before that shoot, because it makes the hood fit me better, but you can’t tell that from the picture. Because all you can see is my head and shoulders, you can’t even tell that it’s a female. I was wincing in pain because those pegs are the worst, but you can’t see that from the outside. Matter of fact, you can’t be sure that hooded head has a face beyond those lips, teeth and tongue. It’s just a head, with a mouth. An open mouth with a tongue immobilized by clothespins. Not only doesn’t the owner of that head not want to see the head’s features, but he for sure doesn’t want to hear that head talk.

There’s something extremely intriguing about that situation. I mean, someone allowed someone else to put a hood and clothespins on their head and tongue. But you can’t even know that for sure. Maybe the wearer of that hood put the hood and clothespins on themselves. Maybe they did it because they were told to. Maybe they did it because they thought the people who saw it would think it was hot. Maybe they did it because they enjoy it. Who knows?

I know. Because that’s me in there. And that’s really hot!

I was ordered to retrieve the hood. I was ordered to kneel on the floor in the middle of the living room. And then I watched with my stomach fluttering as M stretched the hood open, stalked toward me, and then yanked it over my head. I was petrified. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m ridiculously claustrophobic. I don’t like things over my face, or mouth. M’s favorite game used to be to pull the covers over my head and try to hold them there. He rarely won. There’s something about fear that gives you the strength of ten men.

He tugged the zipper open, and told me to stick my tongue out. That’s when I remembered he told me to bring him the clothespins, too. And there I knelt, unable to see, with my tongue out, and… Snap! He clipped the first one to the left side. It was horrible. Tears welled up in my eyes instantly. And then he clipped another one to the right side.

I think I expected him to put them on, take a couple pictures, take them off, and send me on my way. I mean, we were just doing a photo shoot, weren’t we? This wasn’t meant to be some exercise in dehumanization, and the mindset of property, was it?

I’d just told someone there’d probably never be pictures of M’s cock on the web. But the next thing I know, the clothespins are off, his cock’s in my mouth, and he’s trying to focus the camera and snap the picture with one hand cause his other is force-feeding me his cock. But it wasn’t me he was trying to capture. You can’t tell it’s me. He was trying to capture what I am to him.

He posted another picture of me in the hood. I was laying on my back, and it was much later. He’d just ejaculated all over my chin and chest, while growling at me that it was my reward for how well I’d been behaving. And then he started snapping pictures.

As the shutter clicked, I relaxed behind the mask. My body ached from the vicious face fucking, and twitched in that special way it does post orgasm. M had allowed me to get myself off while he came on my face. The hood. And my chest. But you can’t tell it’s me. It’s just a head in a hood. With an open mouth, and cum dripping down its chin. An object, not a person. A toy. A plaything. Costume jewelry.

And that’s how he meant for me to feel. I know because that’s me in there. And it’s hot, steamy and all sorts of erotic to me because, as silly as the fear sounds, I faced it to please my owner. And while knowing I was pleasing him was a comfort, what made it easy was being nothing. A head in a hood. A face you can’t see.

  1. May 27th, 2013 at 10:26 | #1

    Rayne: 30 Days of Kink: Post a kinky image you find erotic.: There are so many things to this photo tha… http://t.co/VNG53Witw9 #slave

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