Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

I fantasize about being an object of mass desire.

It is difficult, sometimes, to resolve this fantasy with my complete and utter obsession with safe sex, but I do what I can*.

In fact, I have concocted an elaborate party favor scenario that is so hot to me that it has become a regular source of masturbatory fantasies. It just will probably never happen because, among other reasons, I have trouble imagining it being equally hot to the anyone else**.

I am naked in a room, blindfolded with cuffs around my wrists and ankles, chained spread-eagled on a bed. Next to me, on a table, are a selection of toys for sensation and toys for sex - whips and canes, clamps and knives, and a whole pile of variously sized, shaped, and textured objects that could be used for penetration.

The rules would be as follows:

1. Anything on the table can be used to hurt me or please me, as long as it can be done safely.

2. My mouth and cunt may only be penetrated with the items on the table or with gloved fingers and hands. Other objects can be used to hurt me with the permission of the minder.

3. No drawing blood or leaving marks/alterations that could affect my appearance in normal clothes.

4. The minder can ask you to stop or leave at any time, and my safeword must be respected immediately.

In my fantasy, my eyes are blocked and I am overwhelmed by hands. They hurt and they tease while they explore my body as an object instead of a person. They use me as an idle distraction, pushing a cold piece of glass into my cunt and walking away, or making designs with clothespins on my skin and then leaving them there to ache. They cane my thighs until I am in agony, and then fuck me with the end of the rod - as a terrible, terrible tease.

The truth is, I want it to be about the sex. I want it to be about hands on my breasts and fingers teasing the line of my labia and threatening to dive in. I want to be given so much sexual attention that it morphs from pleasure to pain and back again. I want to be fucked when I do want it, when I don’t want it, and at every stage in between. I want to be begging for pain to distract from sex while secretly not knowing if I want the people to stop. I want to be begging to come and not allowed to do so or sent over the edge so many times that I honestly plead for it to stop.

I want to be gloriously and degradingly used, like the girls I used to read about in the stories I downloaded from alt.sex with headings like n/c and MMMMF. I want to be hurt and fucked until all I am is a vehicle for desire and pain. I want it to go on until I am so worn out that I can barely beg for it to stop… and I never want to know who touched me***.

I want to wonder who has such intimate knowledge of my body, but never quite be sure****.

–
_{*I recognize that it’s a bit sad that I have to have safe sex even in my fantasies, but they’re hotter if I can imagine them coming true, okay?}

_{**Although I certainly am an enormous fan of fucking girls, so you never really know.}

_{*** Okay. I’m actually not sure if that part is true or not.}

_{****But if it were, I would find it insanely hot to later read about it from their anonymous perspectives. Mmmm. Perspectives*****.}

_{*****And suddenly I think about the possibility of a post-gangbang support/review blog. “I found it was most satisfying to use her when someone was holding her feet up by her chest.” “Her cunt didn’t do much for me, but I had a lovely experience in her mouth.” “It was hot the way she cried while I was fucking her ass. You’d think it was her first time.” “I prefer bigger boobs, but it was fun to make her scream by slamming her cervix.” “Bring a friend, so that one of you can take her from each end.” “After the first three or four men, she whimpers beautifully every time someone new steps up to take her.” “I forgot my favorite lube, but she was very wet so it didn’t matter.” “I recommend being early in line so that you’re ready to take another go. Fucking her is a very different experience after five or six other men have had their turn.” Um. I think I need a drink.}