The last meeting with one of the guys I've written about before was particularly interesting - funny, scary, and strange. I'm not going to mention which playmate he was, just in case some of his friends see this. I'll just call him Q.
Q and I had been playing for a couple of hours already when, after a break, he told me to put my hands behind my back. I knew what he was planning, but it was ok because we had talked about it and I trusted him, so I rolled onto my side, toward the edge of the bed and put my hands behind my back. He fastened some leather cuffs onto my wrists and snapped a metal ring, attaching them to each other.
I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled. He told me not to move and he got up to get something out of his bag. He came back with a ball gag and a blindfold.
"Open up," he said, like someone trying to get a toddler to eat something. I opened my mouth and he put the soft ball between my teeth and fastened the headgear tightly. Then he put on the blindfold.
I know I said I trusted him, but at that point I was scared. I felt very vulnerable. What if he wasn't the guy I thought he was? I could hear him moving about the room, going into the bathroom, telling me not to move. I was right on the very edge of the bed and I wanted to scooch backwards a bit, but I knew he was serious about me not moving.
He came to bed and snuggled up to me, spooning right behind me. He kissed my neck, started talking dirty to me, which I l-o-v-e, before playing with and pinching my nipples. After a minute or so, he applied some nipple clamps. They weren't so bad at first, but then he started tightening them up slowly. He'd tighten a little and then wait. Soon, the pain was VERY intense, and I was just about at my limit, but I couldn't use a safe word or tell him to stop. All I could do was try to scream and kick, but he had me very well gagged and his leg was thrown over mine so I couldn't move.
He managed to attach a chain between the clamps. By then, the pain was still extreme, but I was relaxing into it a bit and becoming very turned on by the whole experience.
He pulled the chain between the clamps up to my face and somehow attached it to the gag apparatus. That pulled the chain taut. I moaned. I could hear and feel him reaching for something. It turned out to be lube. In a few seconds, he was sliding his hard cock into my ass, one arm wrapped around my hips to pull me back onto him. He didn't go in slowly and gently. No, he forced himself in me in one driving stroke. Even with the lube, I couldn't help but respond with a muffled yelp and an attempt to wiggle away from him. Of course, there was no escape. He had his arm firmly around me and I was right on the very edge of the bed. If I leaned forward at all, I'd be on the floor. The good thing about the hotel was that it was a very nice classy place. The bad thing was that the bed was high off the ground, not 24 inches off the ground like the cheap motels. If I fell off the bed, it would be l-o-n-g fall.
That's what I was thinking about when he roughly pulled my head back by my hair. As my head went back, the chain to the nipple clamps pulled up and the pain in my ass suddenly disappeared as my nipples felt like they were on fire. I screamed into the gag loudly, but it came out as a pathetic little moan. Wow, I thought, this gag really works well! But I did't think that for long because the pain reached a crescendo where it was all I could think about. All my attention was focused on my tits. I barely noticed that he had started moving again, fucking me, or that he was saying something to me.
I was breathing hard. I finally came to my senses and stopped struggling, knowing that he would release my head if I was good. That's exactly what he did.
"Good girl," he said. "Are you ready to be a good fuck toy?"
I nodded yes slightly, trying not to move the nipple chain much.
"What was that?" he said laughing. He was definitely enjoying this. The truth is I was enjoying it, too. I nodded in a more exaggerated motion, hurting my nipples myself, which is what I know he wanted to see.
"Good girl," he said again, and he redirected his attention back to pumping his thick cock in my ass. He had already cum twice so I suspected this was going to take a little longer than I might have liked, and I was right. Every now and then he'd pull my hair back, I'd squeal in pain, he'd laugh, and then he'd release me and focus back on the fucking. Eventually, he was fucking me so hard and forcefully that I was having trouble staying on the bed. I pushed back against him and tried to roll backwards in between thrusts - all unsuccessfully. I tried to "talk" calmly but loudly to let him know I was trying to say something, but all he would do in response was pull my hair back until I was quiet again.
When you're about to fall three feet off a bed without your arms to break the fall, you start to think strategically I decided I would do everything I could to "be good" so he would't be holding my hair when it happened. That could be very, very bad. I tried to remember where the night stand was. Was it right next to me head, or a few inches further up?
I could feel that he was getting close to coming by the way he was moving and the way his cock had enlarged and hardened just a little bit more. Maybe I'll get lucky, I thought, and he'll cum now and I won't fall.
His final thrust as he came was powerful, launching me off the bed. As I it the ground, I heard a loud THUMP, and a little squeak coming from me. It sounded like the squeak of a carnival cupie doll.
A second later, I heard him shouting, "What the fuck?!" and I was moaning in pain. I hadn't thought about what would happen if I landed on my front side and I fell on those nipple clamps. That pain was competing with a sharp pain coming from my head.
I felt him unfastening the ring between the wrist cuffs. I didn't wait for him to take the cuffs off; I immediately reached underneath myself and pulled off the nipple clamps which sent a shot of pain through me that made me dizzy. I reached up and tore off the blindfold.
That's when I saw the blood.
I pulled off the gag and threw it across the room. I put my hand on my head and sat up to assess the damage. Blood was gushing down my face. I looked at him and saw that he was white as ghost. His mouth was open, but he couldn't speak.
Men are useless in an emergency, I said to myself, and I got up and headed to the bathroom to check out the injury.
Apparently, my head hit the base of the nightstand next to the bed. The base was like a little four inch pedestal for the table so my head hit it at full force and speed as a I fell, before any other part of my body hit the ground. I'm lucky I didn't break my neck.
I looked in the mirror and saw the gash on the left side of my forehead right at hairline. It was about four inches long and pretty deep, which explained all the blood, but it was a pretty clean cut and it was well placed. It was likely that I wouldn't even have a scar, as long as I got to a doctor to get some stitches soon.
I took a look at my breasts as I was cleaning up. My nipples were seriously bruised and still very painful. Damn, I thought, I hope I don't have to explain that.
I managed to clean myself up and slow the bleeding. I held a clean towel (I had already gone through two) against my head and walked back into the room. Q was sitting on the edge of the bed naked, starring into space, right where he was when I left the room. He looked like he was in shock.
I looked at the wall in front of him and there was a thin line of cum on the wall. I guess he was coming right when I fell onto the floor. I was impressed that he squirted that far so far into our playtime.
I sat down onto the bed next to him. Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes. Then he said, "That sure was a pathetic little squeak that came out of you when you hit the floor."
I looked at him and we both laughed. After the laughter died down, I could tell that he felt terrible. He said, "I'm so so..." choking up at the end of the sentence. I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder and told him it was ok. He turned to me and put his arms around me to hug me, but I jerked away violently.
"If you touch my tits, I'll swear I'll kill you," I snapped.
At first, Q looked confused, like he couldn't tell if I was joking or not.
Then he flashed a big smile and said, "So, does that mean you don't want to go again?"
"No, thank you," I said politely. "I need to get to the hospital." I proceeded to get dressed and gather my things. As I did it crossed my mind that the room was in his name and he had secured it with his credit card, which means that he would be charged for the damage - the blood-stained carpet, the towels, the blood splatter on the wall. That made me smile, and I wasn't going to say anything to him about it, but I decided that I'd stop at the front desk and let them know what happened. I wouldn't want them calling the police because it looked like someone had been assaulted. I ended up telling him that's what I was going to do.
When the people at the front desk saw my forehead, they wanted to call and ambulance, but I convinced them I could drive. Instead of going to a hospital, I went to my doctor's office which was still open. The drive gave me time to think of an explanation for Hubby. I came up with something believable, and all went well when I finally got home.
What happened with Q? He never called me again and I never called him. But every time I hear a little squeaky sound from a squeeze toy, I think of him and smile.