Picture Request – Tongue
As any of you know that have read this space for even a short time, I have a bit of a “thing” about my mouth. Or at least I thought it was my mouth that was the trigger, and it certainly is at times, when I feel him slide his fingers into my mouth, just past the point of comfort, feel him pressing inside and holding it open…
“Open.” That’s the real trigger.
We had a Picture Request (that I still don’t know the exact parameters of) recently that involved my mouth. Or more specifically, my tongue. (Go here to read more about what these “Picture Requests” are all about, and to find out how you can submit one.) Afterward I asked what the request was, and all I remember him saying was that it involved me having to hold my tongue in or out. I think that’s what he said anyway. This was in the bath after the scene, which, by its very nature, put me in a interesting headspace, and follow that with a beating, and I may have been a lil floaty afterward. In any case, whatever the parameters of it, after I saw the pictures I was amazed at how every nuance of emotion was so clearly displayed in my face. And how the scene actually affected me.
He started out with some bondage before getting to the requested picture part of it.
This is actually more challenging than it looks. It was a nice way to start off our afternoon.
He moved fairly quickly onto “Part 2,” though.
He doesn’t usually tell me what the request is as he sets it up, except, on occasion, to advise me what to wear. As he pulled out the wooden donuts, I was curious, but not alarmed. (They are a toy that I usually enjoy, having the right balance of clampy tightness on my nipples.)
When he told me to stick out my tongue, though, I was more than a little dubious, and in fact, being made to present my tongue to him that way immediately put me into that small, vulnerable, curled-within-myself headspace.
He’s clamped my tongue before (though not often.) Most recently in this scene:
I don’t know what he calls this thing. I call it a “tongue gag,” which may or may not be what he calls it.
This gag was an interesting experience, and the way I felt with the doughnut clamp echoed how this made me feel in some ways. But in others, not at all. At least with the tongue gag I was able to keep my mouth somewhat closed. And too, with the doughnut, for the most part.
But not the entire time. And that’s when things inside my brain got interesting.
Before W even started to make things “interesting” from the outside, things were happening in my head on the inside.
Most of the time, I could bite down on the clamp to keep my mouth mostly closed around it. Protected. It wasn’t comfortable, and it made me drool like a demon, but it was manageable.
Until he started adding weights.
Suddenly keeping my tongue in my mouth–and thus keeping my mouth mostly closed–became a challenge. The weights pulled on my tongue and I had to bite down harder and harder to keep my tongue from lolling out of my head like a dog’s.
Even more so when he added another weight to the first.
I found that I could alleviate the pressure by leaning over far enough to rest the weights on the ground, but that relief was short-lived, as it was a precarious posture and hard on my back.
And that didn’t address any of the psychological aspect; what was going on inside me. While I was struggling physically, I was also struggling mentally, trying desperately to keep my tongue from being pulled out of my mouth, to keep that last bit of dignity, to stave off the feelings of vulnerability and deep humility that having my mouth open and tongue out induced in me.
I wasn’t always successful.
Of course W couldn’t leave it at that. He added yet another weight.
And that is finally what ended it, when the clamp and weights clattered to the floor, releasing me.
What he didn’t realize until later (in that infamous bath) was that the clamp hadn’t fallen off. I had squeezed and pulled on it until I was able to rip it off my tongue. It hurt like a bitch. But I was done with that damn thing.
And here’s what is so odd (and wonderful) about W:
I didn’t know how he would react to the fact that I had deliberately defied him and forced the clamp off. I play fight sometimes with him, against the rope or his hold, but I don’t actually try to succeed (much) to get loose. And I would never deliberately untie myself, unless he had given me permission, or in times when we are clearly playing that way.
His response? “Perfect! That makes it even hotter!”
Oh these strange things we do.
Would you like to make a picture request? Got some exquisite bit of torment you’d like to see W visit upon my oh-so-delicate-and-innocent body, or some bit of punishment you think I really really deserve, or simply have an image in your mind that you’d like for him to capture for you in photographs? Read about the Picture Request Penalty and then fill out the online form with your idea!