The Stunt Cunt

She’d asked me over a glass of wine. Or perhaps it’s more precise to say she asked me over a bottle of wine.

“Can I top you?”

And so the negotiations began in the shade of a patio umbrella under the auspices of two new friends getting to know one another.

“I haven’t really topped much before,” she admitted. She’s notorious for playing hard and loving pain.

“I bottom all the time,” I responded. If I’m notorious for anything it’s probably that I am all bottom, all the time.

We laughed.

She and I have had vastly different life experiences, but we process the resulting emotions from those experiences in a similar fashion (albeit at different levels of intensity).

Where she is “hedonist” I am “pleasure slut.” Where I am “bottom” she is “stunt cunt.” Where I am “masochist” she is on a level all her own when it comes to pain.

But it all boils down to one pivotal strength we both share: we are both highly self-aware and communicative.

“I like thud,” I tell her. Her eyes twinkle as she pulls out some examples of thud that look a whole lot more like sting to me. But I’ve learned recently that even some stinging implements can make a thud if they’re used correctly.

“I like having my hair pulled,” I tell her.

“Oh, me too,” she says, reminiscing about a recent scene I was lucky to witness the night before.

Of course, I have my rules. So many rules. I need the emotional connection, the trust, the bond – I need to know she’ll give a shit about me when it’s over.

Negotiation isn’t just “I like this, will you do that?”

It’s baring souls. It’s becoming vulnerable. It’s letting your top know where your strengths are by showing them your weaknesses.

It’s letting your bottom know you have strength because you can acknowledge your weaknesses.

Wine wasn’t the only thing we shared that night. We shared in laughter, tears, words, stories, and understanding.

The next day, I received a text. “I’m daydreaming about topping you.”

On Tuesday, the negotiation continued in person again. She her hand up the back up my neck and wrapped my hair around her fingers. She pulled my head back.

“Do you like biting?” she whispered into my ear.
“Mmhmm,” I answered, then felt her nibble on my lobe. I bit my lip.
“What about pinching?” I felt her fingers trace a line down the back of my arm.
“Yeah,” I squirmed, and then I felt the trail of pain shoot through my arm and the noises happened.

I make noises.

“You know,” I told her “I’ve been thinking about writing some more negotiation porn, but between two women.”
“Do it!” she said.

We made plans to play the following night.

“Text me when you get home.”

“I will.”

It was a smaller dungeon party. Mid-week. No more than a dozen people there. Probably less.

She sat up at the bootblack station and we began again.

“What hurts today?”
“Just my soul,” it’d been a rough day. I said it jokingly, but everyone knew I meant it.

I wanted this distraction, badly.

“Big bites or little bites?”
“Big bites.” I smiled.
“Right. Thuddy.” I really dig her eye twinkle when she smiles.

Our friend asked if we could record the negotiation – the thought of the two of us playing together was quite a novelty.

“Don’t worry, it’s getting written.” I said. “People have requested more negotiation porn.”

“Wait!” said another friend, “Before you go in, can I stand outside and watch and make lecherous comments during your scene?”

“Of course!” we both responded. We really are very similar.

When we approached the dungeon monitor on duty for a room she looked shocked. “Wait…which one of you is going to top?”

Like I said, we’re both pretty known for doing what we do.

The moment her nails dragged down my back, I was in heaven. I discovered that heaven had an upper level when she pulled off her belt.

Fuck. I love belts.

And then there was that part where I was on my hand and knees, with my face to the floor and she sat on my back facing my ass and ….

Wait. The negotiation part of this story is over.

The rest of it isn’t for me to tell. 🙂

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