So yeah…I wasn’t 100% planning on it happening, but my photo shoot with The Doll turned into playtime.
I had him dress in leggings, a skintight t-shirt, and wrist-length gloves (all black latex) plus black PVC stiletto boots and a tightly-laced corset – I wanted him as fully and tightly swathed as possible. Because he doesn’t have long-sleeved latex or opera-length gloves, I bridged the gap between his gloves and sleeves as best I could using black bondage tape.
For time management’s sake, The Doll had put on everything but the gloves before I arrived. He greeted me at the door with a bathrobe wrapped around all of it, both to keep him warm and I suppose so his neighbours wouldn’t see him looking like a Tim Burton character. Once we were safely standing in his living room he dropped the robe and put on his gloves. I saw his hands shaking as he did so and it confirmed for me that even just the act of wearing these things in my presence was a big deal for him. I can’t really relate to this – I’m not turned on by wearing certain clothes – but I’m happy I was able to share in his kinks with him.
And make no mistake, I may not have a latex fetish but The Doll did look hot. I would have found him equally hot in any clothes with a goth or effeminate feel, but yeah. So it worked out well for both of us.
We started out taking pictures of him perched jauntily on his kitchen counter, pulling off one of his gloves with his teeth like a coquettish pinup girl, etc. Then I wanted to take some photos where his head was all latexed, too – making him a blank and featureless object for me to play with. He doesn’t have a full-coverage latex hood, only one with eye and mouth holes, so we used that and then put a blindfold and gag overtop (both his – he has a good collection of bondage gear).
I then put The Doll up near the wall so he’d have a blank background to pose against. His whole body was ever-so-slightly trembling as I guided him into his spot – the sense of “I’m helpless and oh god what is she going to do to me” was radiating from him palpably. I decided to play with that fear and uncertainty a bit – once he was in position I took my hands off him and slowly walked around him, inspecting him from all angles, letting him hear and feel that I was close to him. I’d sporadically touch him in random places – grab his ass, encircle his neck ever-so-gently with my hands just to let him know I could choke him if I felt like it – and then withdraw. Or I’d just stand really really close to him without touching him or doing anything. His body language was both aroused and terrified; it was so much fun. 😀
Back to the business at hand, though: pictures! I turned The Doll away from me and arranged his arms artfully over his head, trying to make pretty shapes with the negative space. As I took the photos I noticed that The Doll had turned slightly so that one of his elbows touched the wall. I asked if having his head swathed like that made him feel off-balance (literally, I mean – it’s hard enough standing in heels when you can see) and he nodded. I told him it was totally okay if he needed to be in contact with the wall to steady himself – that his safety was my highest priority.
A few photos later I decided I wanted The Doll to do some sprawled-out poses, so I removed the blindfold and led him by the hand to his bedroom. I would have led him there blind, but he was tall and unwieldy in his stilettos and if he lost his balance I wasn’t positive I could catch him. It seemed safer to give him his vision back – although I held his hand anyway in case his covered ears also affected his balance.
As soon as we got to the bedroom, he arranged himself in a very pleasing way on the bed – this is not his first photo shoot. 🙂 I replaced the blindfold and started snapping away. With him safely reclining and in no danger of falling over, I was able to relax a bit and take in the full effect of the clothes/hood/blindfold for the first time. He was blank, shiny, anonymous – a total object. I found it absolutely thrilling.
I started monologuing at him as I took photos; sometimes making conversation, sometimes deliberately saying things I knew would turn him on, sometimes narrating how I was feeling. And The Doll was – by necessity – receptive. He became a sounding board, a living thing who could receive my words but not argue with them or interrupt or distract me. It was not unlike talking to Bastardcat – with the crucial difference that The Doll couldn’t get up and walk away. I loved it.
I told The Doll that he was my shiny little fucktoy. I told him how liberating I found it to play with him without him being able to see or judge me – he was truly an object. I told him that after a lifetime of living under the male gaze it was pretty spectacular to have him sit there helplessly while I smeared my female gaze all the fuck over him (this got a little moan in response). I told him about Magritte’s painting “The Lovers,” and how striking and symbolic I’ve always found it, and that I’d love to recreate it using The Doll and one of his rubberist friends – both of them in full face hoods. I remembered, out loud, that The Doll’s gag has a stumpy little phallic thing to plug his mouth with, so essentially he had a dick in his mouth even as I spoke.
By this point I’d abandoned the picture-taking and was straddling The Doll instead, still riffing. I was like “hey, I just realized…the suit adds to your sensory deprivation – not only can you not see, but even your sense of touch is dulled down.” The Doll made an emphatic “no” sound around his gag. “The latex…intensifies the sensation of touch?” *Emphatic mmm-hmmm*. “Reeeeeeally now.” And I twisted his head around by the chin so I could kiss his latex-coated jaw, and he moaned. That was fascinating, and led to me running my hands all over him to see what reactions I’d get. Although I felt totally curious and clinical while I did this (no tingles) when I shifted position I could feel a slick spot on the inside of my jeans. Perhaps my libido was taking a back seat for a while so I could feel more in control of the proceedings, but it was definitely still there somewhere.
Slowly, things started to escalate – I groped him harder, called him names, slapped his face and cock as he moaned around his gag and his hips began to thrust up into the empty air. I repositioned myself so I could grind back down against him, but not for too long in case he came – I wanted to keep him feeling desperate. He reached up blindly, found my shoulders, moved gently to my neck to caress the spot he knows I like. My pretty little doll, serving me completely.
Around this point, I decided to take more pictures – this time of both of us. I retrieved The Doll’s bondage collar, fastened it on, and attached a length of chain. Then I took off my shirt and bra because I liked the contrast of my white skin against his black latex, and I liked the idea of a D/s pic in which the D appeared naked but clearly not vulnerable. I pulled The Doll up into a sitting position, held the camera at arm’s length, MySpace style, and took a bunch of head-and-shoulders photos of me yanking The Doll’s head toward me by the chain, licking his blank latexed face, and twisting his head at uncomfortable angles via my hand on his jaw/face/neck.
Then I put the camera aside, shoved The Doll back down, and groped/slapped/kissed him some more.
It was beginning to feel like our play should progress, should go somewhere, but I didn’t exactly know where. Finally I said “I want access to your mouth. Your mouth is for kissing, not talking. Remember your place.” He nodded, and I pulled him into a sitting position so I could unbuckle and remove the gag (note to self: when removing an insertable gag, there will be spit strings. So much saliva OMG).
So now I’d opened up the option of kissing and biting The Doll’s mouth, which made things interesting for a while.* Also, with my shirt off there was a lot more skin for The Doll to caress, and it was fun to watch him blindly reach up with his face, find my breasts, and kiss between them/gently lick and kiss each nipple. But our play still felt kind of…aimless. It wasn’t winding down to a natural stopping point like our makeouts have in the past.
I decided I should use his body to get me off. And not get him off. That would solidify the idea that he’s my fuck toy, as well as giving our play a feeling of purpose and a natural finishing point.
I got up, peeled off my pants and socks (keenly aware that The Doll must surely hear the noises of my clothes coming off and be going mad with the knowledge that I was now naked and he couldn’t see) and climbed back aboard to hump The Doll’s crotch-bulge for a while. But his leggings have a wrap-around zipper from crotch to ass, and it was kind of chafing me in a not-good way. Plus The Doll’s sounds made me wonder whether he’d end up coming first, so I quickly had him roll over on his belly instead. Yeeeeeah…humping one of The Doll’s ass cheeks was pretty fun, but definitely wasn’t going to get me off.
I debated trying to coach The Doll to give me a hand job, but I have this feeling he doesn’t have the hand stamina. Also, it’s a tricky thing to teach someone at the best of times, let alone when they can’t see and maybe can’t feel things properly because they’re wearing gloves. I think if I instructed The Doll to get me off and he couldn’t, he’d feel all sad, and I wanted our play to have a happy ending (pun definitely intended).
So in the end I instructed him to stay where he was (lying crosswise on his bed) and be still and quiet like a good boy…and then I settled myself against his pillows, draped my legs over the small of his back, and got myself off. Twice. Pressing him hard into the mattress when my back arched in orgasm and all my weight rested on my shoulderblades and legs.
I was, quite honestly, feeling self-conscious as hell, even though The Doll couldn’t see me; I wanted my orgasms to be for me and me alone and if he’d so much as wiggled his ass or made an encouraging noise I would suddenly have felt like it was about him, like my climaxes were just a show I was putting on**.
But The Doll followed my instructions to the letter: he stayed perfectly silent and motionless the entire time. He might as well have been a piece of furniture. And it was that idea – carelessly treating him as sex furniture as he dutifully lay there, perhaps feeling aroused or physically uncomfortable and having to ignore it because I fucking said so – that got me off.
After I came, I told The Doll, “You look pretty in that pose. Stay like that.” Then I sashayed naked into his bathroom to have a post-orgasm pee. I half-expected that he’d be sitting up and taking off his blindfold when I came back (having assumed my orgasms meant “mission accomplished” and it was time to go back to normal), but no, he hadn’t moved a muscle. I saw with interest that his legs were quivering with exertion – I wouldn’t have thought it would be difficult to lie on one’s stomach with one’s knees bent and ankles crossed, but perhaps his boots were feeling heavy. And he had been lying like that for a while.
I resisted the urge to reposition The Doll or tell him he could move. My whole life I’ve felt all this pressure to be super-nice and never inconvenience anyone, and I’m sick of it. This boy claimed he wants to put my wants over his so dammit, I was gonna let him. I decided to push the envelope, just a tiny bit – to make The Doll obey me even when it probably wasn’t fun for him anymore. And so I let him stay there and quiver while I put my clothes back on in leisurely fashion, retrieved the camera, and walked slowly around the bed taking pictures of him from all angles. Only then did I tell him it was okay to break pose.
The Doll rolled over on his back, and I got up on the bed with him and told him I wanted his face back. I took off the blindfold and undid the zipper on the back of his hood, ultimately letting him pull it off because I was afraid of damaging it by pulling the wrong way. His hair was sweaty and dishevelled and his face was…transformed. Ecstatic. Faraway and happy. We grinned at each other through the haze that seemed to linger over his eyes. “How’re you doing?” I asked softly, and he gave me a thumbs-up. I pulled his head to my chest – I’ve noticed that when The Doll goes through intense emotions he needs to be cuddled while in a subordinate position – and held and petted him as he clung to me.
At length I asked if there was anything he needed. He made a loose fist and tipped it toward his mouth. I was like “Huh?” and he did it again and suddenly I realized that he was still abiding by my “no talking” command from before. Hence the thumbs-up when I asked how he was doing, hence his using gestures instead of verbal directions when I mused aloud that I wasn’t sure how best to peel his hood off. That blows me away – I have never had a sub who followed directions like that. They usually assumed at some point that it was okay to stop doing whatever I’d told them, and I’d let them get away with it because it’s too fucking tiring yelling at someone all the time.
So I was like “Oh! Sorry. You can talk” and The Doll said he needed a glass of water (D’OH! I should’ve recognized that hand gesture…Ex and I used to use it all the time to mean “pass me the glass of [beverage] we’re sharing”). And we went into the kitchen and rehydrated ourselves and then The Doll made us a lovely dinner, which we ate while discussing what we liked and disliked about the scene. There weren’t really any dislikes, actually. The Doll especially loved my talking, which is fortunate for me because I was doing that almost purely because I wanted to, not for his benefit. If anything I held back a bit in case he was privately thinking “OMG shut up shut up shut up…”. He said he’d like to hear me riff even more about what a helpless little doll he is in future scenes, and believe me when I say that this will not be a problem for me.
Then we had the further nonmonogamy negotiations detailed in my previous post.
Then we got to talking about our previous kink experiences, and somehow it came up that The Doll has latex underpants with a tube/sheath thing for his penis, and that he was wearing them that day under his other latex clothes. A little bit later he said he needed to change out of his latex (I’d invited him to do so earlier if he wanted, but he hadn’t wanted to yet; he just threw his bathrobe on overtop and started making dinner). I told him that I was curious to see that latex sheath he’d mentioned, so if he felt comfortable undressing in front of me he could feel free to go ahead and do so on the spot.
And so I sat on The Doll’s couch and ogled him as he doffed his bathrobe, unlaced his corset, and painstakingly peeled off his shirt and leggings. We kept talking as he did so; I can’t remember what we were talking about, but I know it was nothing particularly sexy. Nonetheless, as The Doll worked the tight leggings over his feet, the penis-tube on his briefs went from limp to full-mast – I’m guessing simply because it turned him on that I was looking at him (I didn’t ask because I didn’t want him feeling self-conscious).
Finally, he stood there in just his black latex briefs, the penis-tube sticking comically straight out from his body. “How much of the sheath are you actually filling out?” I asked. “Surprisingly little,” The Doll said, in his usual matter-of-fact tone. I figured as much; I’ve seen pictures of erect guys in similar garments and the sheath is, y’know, dick-shaped. Stretched tightly over the erection beneath. On The Doll, it was just poofy and cylindrical with a rounded end, like a balloon. I reached out and playfully twisted the (empty) end of it, joking that I was gonna make a balloon animal out of his penis, and he laughed.
Then I stood up, wrapped my fingers around the base of the sheath that was most definitely not empty, and pulled him over to me by the dick.***
The thing about The Doll is that he’s incredibly vocal and seems to fall under my spell so easily – I start out with the intention of just briefly kissing or touching him and end up so addicted to his reactions that things kinda slide sideways. Before I knew it I was kissing him, biting him, squeezing his cock, tugging on his balls (which seemed to particularly inflame him…) and running my fingers ssssssllllllowwwly over his abdomen and ribs (horribly ticklish for him when done too suddenly but deliciously intense when slow and deliberate, as he’d told me the first time we ever made out) while he squirmed and howled and at one point, I swear, actually spoke in tongues.
He began to slide down my body a little bit and I thought he was just doing that thing where he demonstrates his submission by cuddling his head under my chin, but then he gasped “…going weak in the knees…” and I realized his legs actually weren’t working right and he was half-falling. I quickly braced myself against his weight and grabbed his ass to keep him from slipping further (he’s light enough that I can support him, as long as I’m braced) but kept on stroking his sides (whispering “It’s okay. I have you”). I liked the idea of giving him knee-weakening pleasure while holding him up – it reminds me of the way The Pedant holds me while I orgasm.
But then things took an unfortunate turn: The Doll’s wordless vocalizations slowly formed into the phrase “it’s too much I’m going to be sick I’m going to be sick” – I immediately took my hand off his ticklish spots and petted his back soothingly, my other hand still on his ass in case I needed to physically hold him up. I wondered how long he might have been trying to tell me to stop and not been able to, and felt horrible. I’ve read on FetLife and D/s blogs that sometimes a sub will get so deep into subspace that they pretty much can’t do anything at all – including telling their dom that things are getting too intense. I should have remembered that, and been more careful – especially since I’ve seen The Doll apparently lose his capacity for speech in the heat of the moment. Dammit.
I’d assumed that “I’m going to be sick” meant “your ministrations are making my stomach muscles jump and now I feel pukey” which is why I responded by holding The Doll still and stroking his back…but after a few minutes he managed to amend, “between the stimulation and the coldness in the room, it’s too much. I need to put on something warm. I’ll get sick.” He was shivering uncontrollably by this point – a mostly-naked boy in a chilly room without even any insulating body fat to protect him.
I was like “Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry. Okay.” I let him go and stepped back so he could get dressed, but he just stood there miserably and didn’t move. Subspace, rendering him helpless? I quickly grabbed his robe off the couch and physically put it on him. He neither resisted nor helped – he just shook, violently. I told him we needed to get him under the blankets, and – for the second time that day – led him by the hand to his bedroom. I tucked him in and then came around to the other side of the bed, slid under the blankets with him, and spooned him to try to warm him up.
Eventually, I asked if he needed some water (I’ve heard that water and snuggles are important parts of aftercare for a lot of people, and was grasping at straws). He was enough himself by that point to tell me he’d like tea, instead, and to describe where to find the cups and teabags. When the water was maybe half-boiled (his kettle takes a long-ass time) The Doll joined me in the kitchen, now wearing flannel pajamas under his robe and no longer shaking. I asked if he was okay and he said that he was, and that it’s too bad things suddenly went weird – he said everything I was doing felt really good until, y’know, it didn’t. He seemed to see the situation as just a flukey thing his body did, and not my fault – not something I could have predicted. I told him how I’ve read about subs feeling too overwhelmed to say that they’re overwhelmed but I’d forgotten that this could happen until now. I told him I’d escalate things more slowly in future, and try to check in with him more, to make sure I didn’t accidentally overstep his comfort zone.
I also explained that I’d misinterpreted the “I’m going to be sick” thing to mean “I’m going to throw up” which is why I didn’t reach for his robe first thing. The Doll said yeah, no, that is what he’d meant. I’d been correct in surmising that the ticklish feelings, combined with the cold in the room, had made his insides clench all up in a barfy way. I didn’t bother to point out to him that he’d later indicated not that he felt pukey, but that he would get a cold or flu from the low temperature in the room. I think what he was actually feeling was a mishmash of the two, and I don’t think he was in a position to express himself clearly, so there was no point in calling him out on the contradiction.
The water came to a boil, I selected camomile tea from his vast selection because I felt its calming properties might be useful right then, and we sat in The Doll’s living room as he drank it. Things felt normal again. We made small talk. And then I realized it was 9pm and The Doll was looking sleepy (his normal bedtime is 10 or 11pm, but it had been an eventful day!) so I packed up my camera and stuff, gave The Doll a few lingering kisses goodbye, instructed him to get lots of rest, and went home.
I’ve always wanted to induce subspace in someone, ever since I learned what that phrase meant. Now that I’ve been in the position of caring for someone who was in hardcore subspace, I have to say it’s awesome – not in the sense of “fun” but in the old school sense of “fills me with awe.” And also terror. Quite a bit of terror. If I proceed with more caution from now on, though, it can probably be the other kind of awesome.
*I know I could have used his mouth for other things – like sitting on – but that doesn’t get me off so it seems kind of pointless. Also, I didn’t want to expose The Doll to all my fluids until he knew that I was sleeping with The Pedant, and now was not the time to have that conversation.
**Which I realize now was a bit of a problem with me and Minx. I liked that he would make orgasm-encouraging sounds when we were having sexytimes together, but the fact that he’d wake up or come running in from the next room to cheer me on when I jerked off made me feel like I was permanently on display. Like I could never just have a quick wank for my own benefit.
***Okay, I’ve changed my mind – The Pedant’s penis isn’t small, as I’d previously thought; it’s probably average. The Doll’s is small. Like…teeny. But it still makes an awesome handle.