15 sessions.

May 21st, 2014

I do not wish to write in poetry or philosophical reflection. I have no desire to prettify my experience or ramble words of life lessons. In this moment I want to own my anger. I wish to accept the hate I feel towards myself, towards my female anatomy. I desire no pity or words of wisdom. I care not to be told to remember the blessings I have nor to hear what strength I will gain from having this experience. Right now I am just mad. Nothing fancy or catastrophic. Just plain old mad.

Fifteen sessions. Fifteen 60 minute sessions of having my legs spread while my vaginal physiotherapist pushed and probed my labia. While she continuously attempted to penetrate my vagina, getting at most, one finger to the second knuckle inside of me. Yep. It took 900 minutes to get a mere one finger inside of me and even then it hurt. Not just a little pinch kind of hurt. Not even a momentary pierce kind of hurt. Nope. After all that vulnerable exposure all I succeeded at doing was to cause a deep fuck off kind of hurt and from just one digit!

Maybe, just maybe if she managed to push three fingers in I could have felt some accomplishment, (whether I experienced pain or not), but nope. I feel nothing. Nothing but anger. Right now all I take from my time on that bed is the realization that I am never going to get those 15 hours back. I could have just as easily burned that $1,350 dollars, using the flames from the bills to keep me warm. At least then they would have been well spent.

I am so frustrated. I have seen countless specialists. I have been snipped. I have been lasered. I have been a science experiment for every gynaecologist, massage therapist and meditation/tantric expert. I have done everything, short of sewing my cunt up in the hopes of fixing my vagina. No matter what I try though I am left hurting and hopeless. I am even at the point where I no longer have any desire for intimacy. Oh I want it, I want to be intimate. I want to be fucked. I want to be used and violated and hot and sweaty and full of fantastic sexual endorphins. Rather what is more accurate is I want to want all of that. It is a dramatic statement; however, I can not deny that I feel as though a part of me has died.

I no longer want to even touch myself. I do not want to have an orgasm or be caressed on any part of my body cunt related or not. The idea of being sexual actually terrifies me because all I can think of is the pain. That fucking pain. What I wouldn’t give, in this moment, to be a masochist. To love pain for the sake of pain. Wouldn’t I just be the happiest slut ever.

I do not think I have ever felt such seething hate yet in this moment I loathe my vulva. I despise absolutely everything to do with my female reproductive bits, starting with the outside and working all the way in. I feel betrayed by the very skin I live in and there is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do to win this war.

I am tried of fighting. I throw in my white flag.
~cockdoll

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Gentlemen’s Entertainment. Part II.

May 21st, 2014

“I bet you have never been Gentlemen’s Entertainment before. You are going to be a fun party favour. I can feel it.”

Pablo’s words clung to my skin as he stepped back, returning his long torso to a well postured silhouette. I didn’t need to look up to feel both of their gazes as they watched me. Not quite like animals stalking prey, rather more like two hunters calculating their next move.

Seamus and Pablo exchanged pleasantries of playful banter, their language suddenly foreign to my own. Perhaps my expression gave way to the uncertainty I was feeling because, within minutes of their conversation I felt Seamus pull me close, his fingers strumming up and down my back.

“Why don’t you bring us a couple of drinks my girl?”

I have no doubt his direction was more about giving me something to occupy my mind rather than actually tending to domestic duties. Either way I was grateful for the excuse to exit the room and once hidden by the refrigerator door, I released a much needed sigh. Of all the introductions I had ever experienced that had been, by far, the most taxing. Not because Pablo was unapproachable, on the contrary.

Pablo had a natural easy going energy. Everything from his calm swagger to his light hearted laugh seduced whatever audience sat before him and I was not exempt from his charms. Even then as I fumbled with the beers, awkwardly trying to twist the tops off, (when they obviously required a bottle opener), I found myself revisiting that initial hello and how sweet his breath smelled as his whisper caressed my heated cheek.

My blush was noted as Seamus gave me a wink upon my re-entry of the male dominated space. Years of training had left me aware of who to serve first and as I placed the bottle into Pablo’s hands I allowed our touch to linger, relishing in his warm flesh.

“Come.”

Seamus’ voice, although soft, snapped my attention and I immediately moved between his legs, lowering the perspiring glass on the table beside him. I was aware of his intention and without having to say another word, I lowered my body, resting my bum on the back of my heels as I knelt before him.

I was sharing space; however, I was not part of their discussion and so I remained still, listening as they spoke.

What a peculiar atmosphere, to be the topic of conversation as though I were but a hanging piece of art. Every line, angle, curve and dip subjected to inspection and emphasized each time Seamus manipulated my pose. Either by raising my arms, turning my palms to face up and then down, tilting my neck, exposing something new. In many ways I felt as though I were not only on display but also for purchase.

I have no recollection of time during that entire visit. What felt like seconds could have been minutes and what were minutes most likely felt like hours. The time on my knees as both men studied me, spoke of my features, described in explicit detail what each wished to do to me felt like a lifetime. In reality it was much longer than I had realized for when I finally stood, having been instructed to prepare lunch, I required help as both limbs had fallen asleep.

The prickles in my feet felt oddly similar to those in my mind, the lingering effects of humiliation quickly consuming my thoughts. Had I actually just sat there while both Seamus and Pablo dissected me? An unexpected wave of erotic anger swarmed me and I felt conflicted with the arousal that came with it. How is it that I could find pleasure in being treated like an object? I was more than just flesh, I was a complete human.

I moved throughout the kitchen on what I can only describe as muscle memory, opening and closing doors and drawers, somehow managing to put food in an edible manner on the two plates before me. Making a meal was not my challenge, no, where I found my battle was in my head. I was being treated like an object because that is what I was. In this moment I was Gentlemen’s Entertainment and nothing more and although I felt pangs of uncertainty I could not deny the overwhelming lust every time those two words graced my tongue.

With flushed cheeks and an internal war waging, I returned to the men, kneeling first in front of Pablo, serving him his meal followed by kneeling and remaining in front of Seamus. Oddly, I was grateful for my loss of words taking comfort in my instructed silence. I can not recall whether I watched them eat or gazed out the window. In truth I probably did a little of both until their plates were clean and I was, once again, permitted to rise.

I moved without thought, washing the dishes, wiping down the counter top, peeking my head through the open door asking if either men would care for me to refresh their drinks. I was nearly, but not quite, on auto-pilot for I knew that although their stomachs were full, they were no where near satisfied. The real meal had yet to be devoured and it was this knowledge that kept me puttering in the kitchen and bathroom and hallway, nervously stretching time.

How long I could have delayed my sacrifice I will never know for somewhere between the kitchen and back bedroom Seamus found me. Found me and pushed his overpowering stature against my frame. His eyes, naturally wide with wonder, were now narrowed; a glaze of possessive lust lingering behind the light blue. Although I had witnessed his appetite before, I had yet to experience this side of him. I was not his girl in this moment but rather his prize, one he was eager to share.

“How did it feel to be inspected pet?”

His voice was soft yet contained as though he were battling his own demons of control.

“It was. It was hard.”

His laugh was near menacing as his fingers immediately cupped my chin, holding my gaze ensuring I could not look away.

“Oh come now. I know there is more. Of course it was hard. You had never been treated in such a manner before. You have always maintained your lady like status. But we both know you are not a lady, not today.”

There was more to his thought and yet he paused, shifting his eyes from my own, instead watching as his free hand moved to the top button of my blouse. Since our arrival home he had barely touched me and now, the slightest hint of his fingers so close to my flesh caused a rush of whimpers to escape my throat. My response fuelled him, encouraged him to continue, not that he required any encouragement. He was going to do whatever he wanted, however he wanted because that is what we had agreed upon.

I knew he could have stripped me by now but he hadn’t, instead he wanted me exposed while clothed, to feel the deep ripples of humiliation long before I was used. He relished in my fear knowing how it ignited both my mind and body. How even now, as his fingers pushed each button through their slots, baring me only to him, I was beautifully drowning in excited embarrassment.

“Whatever I do, do not look away. Do you understand pet? Your eyes, regardless of how I touch you will not leave mine. A lady would lower hers but you, you are not a lady. You are my flesh. You are my toy, my object. You are but an animal waiting to be mounted.”

His fingers had by now left my chin, moving down to join his other hand, parting the light cotton of my shirt, exposing my stomach and the black lace of my bra. Any other time I may have dared to advert my eyes; however, in this moment I felt paralyzed to disobey.

“Now. I asked you a question and I feel you failed to answer properly. Seeing as you are most likely a little flustered I will give you the chance to answer again. How did it feel to be property pet? To hear our voices as we looked over your body, as we spoke of all the torrid acts we will perform on you. How we will use every hole?”

His words felt like ice and yet I had never been so hot. Uncomfortably hot almost. As though what little clothing I had was searing me, that his body was nearly suffocating the very air I was trying to breathe.

“And if you lie, there will be no second chance, only harsh consequences. You are safe, regardless of my hunger, you are safe and I want to know only your truth. So tell me. Tell me what it really felt like. Do not prettify it with words of poetry. Say it as you felt it.”

There was something, something foreign that snapped inside of me as I heard his words, as I felt his tongue snake across my lips as he spoke.

“It felt fucking good Sir.”

My words hissed at him, perhaps egging him to continue to poke. Fortunately he could read me well and before I could continue I felt his large hands hold my waist, clawing his nails up along my sides until his grip found my breasts, tugging, pulling through the fabric all while bringing his knee between my thighs, pushing it against my cunt.

“It felt embarrassing to have you and Pablo look me over like I was cattle. It was degrading as you exposed my limbs, spoke of my body like a slab of meat and every time you had me move to display another part of my body I felt my cunt pulsate and clench. It felt fucking amazing to be nothing more than an object.”

Seamus’ eyes flared with pride as the last of my words burned my lips. He did not want me to hide from him nor myself and making me say what he already knew was his way of helping me face it, to embrace who I was. As though my words were water distinguishing a fire, I felt Seamus’ grip relax, that black glaze I had first seen upon his stare now softer, lighter as he released me from his hold, finding my hand with his own.

“I don’t want you to hide. Not ever and especially not today. I want you to feast as much as we do. I want you to own this experience. Will you do that for me?

Unlike earlier, this was not a demand but a request, one that came from his heart, from a place of genuine care. I didn’t have to answer with a word, my look, the tender kiss I placed upon his lips all were enough for him to trust me that I would. We were quiet in those next few seconds and as we walked back to the living room I felt calm. Aroused, excited, filled with anticipation but still calm. I knew that whatever was about to take place it was okay. I was okay for wanting this, for wanting to be their entertainment. Their toy.

The room was filled with the afternoon sun and as I stepped into the space that I would remember as my pandora’s box, I was greeted with the biggest, friendliest smile. Seamus guided me to Pablo, taking my hand from his and placing it in the palm of this beautiful man.

“I have to run to the store. I will be about 15-20 minutes. I am certain you will keep our guest happy while I am out.”

*”Yes Sir.”

My voice was giddy as I acknowledged what was expected of me. Before he left, Seamus kissed my forehead reassuring me once more that everything was good. That he would still care for me, that I would still be his girl after today. Later I learned that while I was in the kitchen the two men had discussed giving me a little time alone with Pablo. Both gentlemen wanted to make sure I was comfortable being intimate with someone I had spent so little time with. All these years later I am still grateful for that gift. For it was during that time that I reacquainted myself with my own self worth.

When Seamus left I was still holding Pablo’s hand; however, my eyes were focussed on the door. I felt anxious and insecure. What if I was not pleasing to him? What if there wasn’t any chemistry when it was just the two of us, would that affect the afternoon’s activities? Maybe it is just something men learn or perhaps it comes from instinct. Whatever it is that causes them to lift our chins so that our eyes meet theirs, it is a powerful and comforting act, one that to this day soothes me.

One that also brought me a deep sense of arousal the minute Pablo’s soft fingers caressed my flesh, his thumb extending ever so slightly so that he could brush my lips.

“Hi.”

It was simple yet effective. A quiet greeting to refocus me, to ensure my attention was on him. Oh and it was. Once given permission to look at him, there was no looking away. Like Seamus his eyes were blue but with a warmer hue. Perhaps his golden curls altered their colour or maybe it was his natural olive skin. He truly was a very handsome man and I felt inferior to his beauty.

“Do I please you?”

My voice was timid, filled with nervous doubt. I wanted him to want me yet I valued the truth even more.

“Sweet girl, yes you please me. You are lovely. From your freckled pink skin to your long ginger locks. To the swell of your breasts and the infinite joy of your smile. You please me very much. You know you are not the only one wanting to impress. I want you to desire me as much as I desire you.”

His admission shocked me yet when I allowed it to sink in I realized that I was not the only one who was nervous. Granted I displayed my feelings differently, still, he and I were both entering this arrangement in a state of not knowing. Perhaps, it was the expression of both of our vulnerabilities that pushed me to stand high on my toes, brushing my lips against his. His kiss was supple just like his caress and as I felt him guide my body to the floor, I moved without hesitation. There was something possessive yet tender in his embrace and as he rolled me onto my back, his weight lightly resting against my chest, I felt an entire release of surrender. No longer was there fear, all negative emotion was replaced with erotic curiosity.

Seamus found our bodies intertwined and it was only when I heard his laugh did I pull from Pablo’s sweet lips. With a flushed face and my shirt nearly pulled off I rose and was greeted, much to my surprise, with a rather hungry kiss. Although my eyes were closed I could feel both of their bodies: Seamus in front, Pablo at my back. There was no time to think, this was not an exchange that required intellect and so I spoke not a word. I removed all thoughts and instead welcomed the pawing of their hands. Pablo kissed my neck as Seamus devoured my lips. Pablo gripped my ass, pulling it closer to his covered cock all while Seamus cupped my breasts, squeezing and pinching my hardened nipples.

Never before had I received such wanton attention and the idea that they were giving while I was taking slowly started to creep into my thoughts, darkening my experience. I wanted to give, no I needed to give and so with my right hand I reached behind me all while with my left I pushed forward. My goal was to caress both of them, to somehow slide my hand down the front of their jeans so that I could curl my fingers around their erect flesh.

As I reached I felt both gentlemen pull away, Pablo gripping my pony tail while Seamus cupped my cunt.

“Did we say you could touch us?”

Seamus’ voice was stern, the expression on his face exuding one of control and beautiful dominance.

“No.”

I managed to rattle off just as Pablo yanked hard on my hair jerking my head back, exposing my neck so that Seamus could sink his teeth into my skin. He was leaving a mark, he was reminding me of my place and it took everything in me not to scream. Instead I accepted my error, leaning against Pablo’s strong frame, grateful for his physical support.

“No, what slut? Have you suddenly lost your manners?”

It took a second for me to register; however, once my brain unscrambled I immediately blurted Sir. I had forgotten the Sir. It was a genuine mistake, one both men seemed to catch then excuse.

As though my actions had shifted their intent, Pablo handed my pony to Seamus enabling him to pull me as he walked to his chair, Pablo following behind. With both men seated I was told to kneel.

“You want to touch? Perhaps it is time you showed our guest your skills. What do you think? Yes. Show Pablo how useful that mouth hole of yours is.

His words were clear and without pausing I inched away, providing the necessary space so that I could place my lips to Seamus’ feet, kissing my way up his left then right leg. I bathed his denim clad limbs with my tongue until I reached the zipper of his jeans. Although I had already been given permission, Seamus offered me a nod reassuring me I could in fact strip him of this clothing.

The silence was palpable as the metal teeth parted. Immediately I could smell his scent, his cock instantly exposed as he had chosen not to wear briefs. A rush of delicious shame washed over me, a result caused by my own arousal. With a delicate nature I reached behind Seamus, sliding my palms under the fabric, asking with just my gaze for him to rise ever so slightly so that I could pull his jeans all the way down.

“Good girl. Now worship me.”

His words were direct yet soothing and I hesitated not a minute before I was rubbing my cheek against his shaft, the tip of my nose brushing along his skin. He smelled of masculine musk and as my lips parted, sliding his already sticky head against my tongue, I could not help but release a much needed sigh. This was my place of confidence. There, on my knees, my mouth full of his cock, my lips gripping tighter as I stroked him with my throat. Much like a ravenous animal starved for too long, I found myself fighting to force more of his length into my hole. I wanted more, I craved more and I showed him this through my whimpers and grunts, through my muffled growls and clawing fingers.

My eyes fluttered from open to closed, desperate to see his approval and pleasure as I choked myself on his girth. He loved the mess I made of myself when in this state, when serving in my rightful manner. A part of him wanted me to continue, wanted me to stroke him with my slippery walls until he stained my tongue. All in good time though. For now he would share, share my swollen lips and selfish need.

“Enough. Enough pet. I believe it is time for Pablo to enjoy those expert lips.”

His breathless smile could only calm me for but a moment and as I pulled from his arousal, I found my heart beating in rapid succession. This was it. This was the moment of no return. Could I go through with it? Did I really want this? As I slid my arm under my chin, removing the salty mixture of pre-cum and saliva I leaned back only to lower myself to all fours, crawling the three steps it took to reach between Pablo’s legs. As I lowered my face to his feet my eyes shot up wanting to catch those of Seamus’. It was there, in that singular moment that I finally let go of doubt and with what can only be described as loving approval, my lips touched Pablo’s naked toes.

My actions mimicked those I had displayed moments earlier when I had bathed Seamus in my affections. The only difference was my speed for now I was greedy, desperately so and I craved to see, feel, smell and feast upon what was hidden behind those dark blue jeans. I was not alone in my urgency for it was within seconds of my cheek resting against his hip that I felt his palms upon my shoulders, pushing me back just enough to undo his buttons, his hands shoving the fabric down his thighs, kicking the material off of his feet.

I am uncertain if it was the look of shock or the rather large gasp that told both men I was clearly not expecting to see a man of Pablo’s size. Seamus had at least informed me prior to our date that he was well endowed. I had time to prepare myself for him but with Pablo, well it was like being unexpectedly slapped across the face. My horror was immediate and before I had the chance to explore him I was already shaking my head no.

There was, in my mind, no way I could be penetrated by such a cock. It was not so much that he was extraordinarily long, that actually would not have been as scary. What brought an internal terror was his circumference. Perhaps in instinct or pure curiosity I found my fingers trying to curl around his shaft, stretching each digit as I tried to force my fingertips to touch. Regardless of my continual efforts I failed to have them meet and that realization only intensified my apprehension. Obviously my reaction was not the first Pablo had ever experienced therefore, he was schooled in calming the weary women who knelt before him.

“I’m expecting nothing sweet toy. You do not have to prove anything to me. I want to feel your mouth though. I want you to wrap those pretty pink swollen lips around my head and suck. Show me what a good girl you are.”

His words stroked me just as his palm did as he reached for my cheek. How could I say no to such a tender request? I couldn’t and so I found myself, high on my knees, my tongue swirling around his bulbous head, inhaling his own unique scent. Like fumes, the more I inhaled the more intoxicated I became until all I could smell was him. Him and Seamus and my own arousal, which by now, had soaked my lace panties.

I was a carnivore, seeking to devour the meal before me. I have no idea how my mouth managed to stretch around his oversized shaft but it did and the further I pushed the louder Pablo’s grunts became. Fuck! I relished in every guttural moan and as I found my pace, jerking his cock between my soft pads I reconnected with my submission, with the filthy whore that had always lingered but had never be free.

Unlike Seamus, who had sat back, granting me the freedom to milk him in a manner I desired, Pablo gripped my hair, controlling the speed and depth of which I sucked him, often choking me long enough to make me panic but never enough to cause me to lose consciousness. His use of my mouth was rough, passionately violent even and it was only when he felt himself loosing control over his own orgasm that he yanked me from his cock.

In that moment as I felt the drool slip down my chin and I knew my mouth resembled that of my cunt. Both orifices were soaked, dripping and swollen with arousal. I was a mess, both physically and mentally and my use had only just begun. I was, from that moment on, without control. A puppet to their manipulations and as they lifted me, each gentleman slipping their palm under my arms, bringing me to a rather shaky standing position, I knew I would say no to nothing. I was theirs and I would give them everything.

Surprisingly my shyness still managed to caress my cheeks as I felt both of their hands begin to disrobe me. They had already removed their shirts and together they had decided they had waited long enough. My blouse, which had been barely hanging on my shoulders was now on the back of a chair, along with my skirt. It was Pablo who, standing behind me, had unclasped my bra, sliding the straps down each arm, gently guiding me to relax so that he could remove the lace entirely. Seamus remained in front only now had moved to his knees. His breath lightly tickling just above my navel all while deliberately inching the lace of my panties down my pale thighs, creeping the fabric over my calves, his voice penetrating the silence as he instructed me to step, first my left then right foot, leaving me at last, fully exposed.

I shuddered as an electric shiver surged through my spine to my toes. Although it was only the three of us, in that minute it felt as though a dozen or so hands were upon my flesh, every finger caressing my bare canvas. I was high from the touch and my ache to feel more superseded any shyness daring to stop my experience.

I felt as though I were in the most erotic tug of war, only instead of a rope, it was my being pulled and pushed. At first Pablo was behind me but then he towered over me, his lips upon my own, his fingers grasping at the elastic in my hair, forcing my tendrils free. Seamus had moved to my back, his shadow reminding me just how powerless I was. Both fought to mark me, their teeth bruising any and all skin they could sink into, their hands grabbing, pulling, twisting, smacking my breasts, my ass, my thighs and cunt. I was a doll used for their enjoyment and they explored every inch, inside and out.

Within minutes or was it hours, I was drunk. Inebriated from lust, from their constant affections and it was only when they pushed me back to my knees, forcing their cocks between my lips did I feel the last bit of self preservation dissipate.

I was but an amusement park ride and together they rode me. Over and over and over again. When one was in my mouth the other was slamming into my ass. When one was thrusting between my thighs, stretching my tender cunt, the other was watching, narrating what I looked like, how I had become a greedy fuck hole for their leisure. There were moments when I felt Seamus slip his fingers into my holes, sharing with Pablo all he felt, how I smelled and tasted only to then push those sticky digits down my throat, strangling me with my own juices.

They fucked me in the living room until the moon replaced the light of the sun. For reasons I still do not know, they then moved me to the back bedroom where they spent the rest of the night using my tired, bruised, soaked, deliciously vibrating body. They took turns pushing their weight upon my frame, tossing me onto my back then to my stomach. There were moments when I screamed in pain and many more where I moaned with pleasure. Every inch of me hurt from their caress, whether it be my cunt or ass or lips. Even through their kissing they had managed to bruise me, my mouth now in a constant state of pout all due to excessive swelling. Throughout all those hours they had managed to fulfil nearly every fantasy they had, nearly all I had and it was only when we felt the first rays of an early morning sunrise peek through the blinds did they finally stop, satisfied with my use.

I couldn’t move. My limbs heavy from being bound, from being held down, the fingerprints of my two lovers left upon my flesh. I was salaciously exhausted, so much so that I cared not that I was covered in our sweat, in my cunt juice, in their seed. Although they had worn condoms while fucking me, they did, at times spray my face, my back, my breasts and I could feel the sticky remnants of their orgasms. As I laid on my stomach, my body still bare I could hear the voices of Seamus and Pablo and then the sound of water coming from the shower. At first I thought it was Pablo who had slipped into the bath; however, I was mistaken. He had already bathed and had returned to the room to wish me sweet dreams before he headed out for the day. I could barely open my eyes but when I did I was greeted with the brightest, most welcoming smile along with the sweetest tasting kiss.

“I have to go baby. Thank you for this experience, you have given me a very special gift, one I will never forget.”

His voice was nearly a whisper and although I wanted to say something, I knew there were no words. Instead I smiled, reaching out to give his hand a light squeeze. We paused in that moment, perhaps admiring one another and just as quickly as he had entered he left.

I spent the rest of that early morning in a haze, guided by Seamus as he bathed me, carefully running the warm, soapy sponge along my affectionately pulverized body. I can even recall how he fed me, placing bite after bite of pizza into my mouth followed by cool droplets of water. It was only once he believed I had enough nourishment did he take me to his bed, to the place where just a day ago he had told me of my gift.

Once tucked under the duvet, my body pressed close to his, his arm resting in a protective nature across my torso did we finally allow our eyes to close.

“I still want you. You were a beautiful toy and now, now you are my lady. Sweet dreams my girl.”

As tired as I was I still felt the curl of my lips, my smile the only sign of recognition that I had heard his words. But I heard them. Heard them and believed them.

~cockdoll

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