Dungeon Party: Gag

My filthy new friend writes hot smut about our dungeon play session

This weekend, I went to a dungeon with some of my favourite kinky friends, old and new. It was GLORIOUS. I’m writing my recollections, but until they make it out of my drafts folder; please enjoy this utterly luscious snippet written by the very hot filthy new friend I made this weekend. They have absolutely nailed my thought processes at the time of the action! (Also; I’m well impressed by such productive writing energy)

Photo of me kneeling with my arms in red latex binders behind my back, a hot new friend's hand between her shoulderblades

Gag Story

As you hold the gag out in front of her, you notice the deep creases in the strap; the pale cracks bisecting the punch-holes, each betraying hurried cinching by needy hands, over and over again.

“How did it get in this state, then?” you ask – not because you don’t know the answer, but because you want to see her say it. The smile which breaks out in response is just as delicious as you’d hoped. It’s almost too lovely to gag.

“I like to wank with it in,” she admits, in what – despite her barest attempt at a confessional tone – her eyes make clear is a statement of pride. You feel your own eyes crease as you grin back at her. It’s endearing, is what it is: that she’s worn this once-pristine sex toy nearly to bits over years of fucking the tension out of herself.

But when you plop the worn leather bit into her mouth, prompting a soft little “mph” and the slightest dilation of her pupils, you feel your dick stiffen right to the root, as you realise it’s also extremely fucking hot.

That gag, for her, means pleasure. It means security and indulgence; it means relief. As you lean forward to pull her hair aside, easing the buckle shut with fingers that want to tremble, you can hear it all in her breath.

This is the place she goes to when she needs to take a load off herself. And with her arms strapped into red rubber mitts, clipped to a bar above her head, she has been relieved of the active voice. You are going to be the one taking the load off her.

As you run a thumb over the hair at her temple, gently directing her to meet your eyes, you offer her a soft smile, reassuring her that there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it.