My gut has been a little grumbling for the past few days. I think it might be caused by switching from a very simple diet back to a comparatively rich diet.
Most of our hosts served meal made of rice or some other grain with a few vegetables. I didn't eat meat in Bhutan except for one night in the hotel after my friend left me. He said that eating an animal was eating god. We talked about eating plants as eating a gift from god. Because in either case, if you believe that god exists in everything then there is no escape from eating god. The difference is that animals are sentient beings.
Anyway, my meals were gluten free with very little fat and a few vegetables seasoned very carefully with salt and local herbs that were sometimes also used to make hot infusions. My meals on the trip home were primarily meat, vegetables and various carbs. Once I got to San Francisco, I had dry aged Chateau Briand, soup, salad, fingerling potatoes and crusty bread slices that we dipped in olive oil. Of course, we did not pass up on desert.
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I'm not even sure what day of the week it is. My head is still someplace in the clouds high above the valley floors of Bhutan. It was a good day to be strenuously bound and then used by Master.
He tied my wrists crossed behind my back then pulled the rope up, wrapping it around my neck several time then cinching it, leaving the tails dangling in front me. He wrapped the rope around my genitals, creating a cock ring effect. He continued by wrapped the rope around my scrotum, stretching it tightly and stretching my balls to the limits. From there, I kneeled with my balls between ankles. He tied and cinched the ends of the ropes so that find any sort of comfort.
The experience first lead to a dull ache in my guts that gradually escalated. I began to feel nausea build and an intense burning sensation in my balls. Everything intensified over time. I began to moan loudly which earned me a heaping stuffing of a leather gag jammed deep into my throat.
You didn't pass up on the desert? What a surprise! But then neither would I.
ReplyDeleteThe bondage. Not sure what it is but once my balls are put to the test I go limp and the whole experience becomes less than erotic torture. I suppose we all have our favourite positions and fetish methods and I know a friend who adores having his bollocks whipped and crushed - but then, unlike me, he hates to be roped and hung out to dry with a good flogging. Cest la vie.
I'm not thrilled by ball work myself but it seems a long while ago that I gave up the option to avoid any of Master's plans. It doesn't matter if I am limp or hard. In fact, the very idea that I have no choice is one of the greatest turn-ons.
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