Friday Night Plight

I don't have a lot of limits.

I try to be open to new things and don't want to put myself into a corner where I require x, y, and z to get me off and anything from a to v are off limits.

That said, my four limits are: No blood (which I've violated at least once), no scat, no house work (not sexy and I should be cleaning my house, not yours), and no abandonment.

Four things. That's six less than Jehovah gave the Hebrews. Pretty straight-forward. Or so I thought.

I went over these four limits with my good friend, Ms. D, over drinks and nachos when she arrived in town. I had rented us a room uptown and I was glad to be away from my rather psychotic roommate for the evening.

It promised to be a memorable night. We would go back to the room, play for a bit, and then be joined by a Dominant male who'd help fulfill a long-held fantasy.

Not trying to "top from the bottom" I ran what I had in mind past Ms. D. "We're a couple. We've been going out for months and I'm going to propose. I got us a room in the big city and you know what I have planned. You're fine getting married to me but you want to make sure I know that I'm never going to consummate the relationship and that you've been fucking another man for months. You've chosen this occasion to introduce me to him."

Yes, I was going to be cuckolded.

I've always wanted to play with a couple in this way -- to be made to feel inferior around another man. She and I had exchanged emails about this for a while and I knew that she was going to tie me up and have sex with this man while I watched. They'd also take turns beating my bottom with belts and generally humiliating me. I hoped that I would also have to be her "fluffer" and be allowed, er, forced, to suck on the man's cock. I've craved that humiliation for years.

I tried walking into this whole situation with only the vaguest of expectations. I find that scripting out a scene is a recipe for disappointment.

We got back to the room and Ms. D jumped into playing a little abruptly. I rolled with the punches here and had a nice time as she tied me up and did some impact play. She was also very sensual, being very nice to me with the promise that she would be a total bitch when her man showed up.

He texted around 9 o'clock, saying that he'd be up shortly. Ms. D put me down on the floor, kneeling with my butt up in the air, my feet tied with pink bondage tape, my cock similarly trussed and sticking out behind me. A "mindfold" blocked out the light, Ms. D opted to not put in the ear plugs at that point.

The man came in and I was introduced in this position. Ms. D gave him a little demonstration of what she had in store for me later in the evening and gave me a swat with her belt that was so painful that I cried out. Biting my lip and snuffling for air, Ms. D and her man decided to go out, get a few drinks, and discuss what they wanted to do.

As quickly as the door closed my mood changed. I was so stunned that it took me a few hours to figure out why I went from happy and excited to completely depressed like a light switch were flicked in my head. I had been abandoned.

I didn't stay in my position for long. I managed to get the blindfold off and unhook the chain that clasped my cuffs tightly together. I left my feet bound but stripped off the tape that was wrapped around my now-limp dick. I had needed to use the bathroom even before we started playing. It all happened so suddenly that I hadn't asked to go beforehand.

Afterwards, I sat on the room's couch with my book, trying to read while my mood blackened with each passing minute.

My phone started to ring and I shuffled over to it, looking like Tim Conway's "little old man" character from "The Carol Burnett Show". It was Ms. D. She immediately picked up on my mood, even when I hadn't fully acknowledged it. She asked me to come down to join she and her man for drinks. I could tell that she wanted me to and I didn't want to disappoint. Plus, I was feeling pretty lonely, tied up in the hotel room.

I uncuffed my hands, cut off the tape, and removed the vibrating rubber ring that had gone dead after hours of being wrapped around the base of my cock.

Ironically, they were at the same bar where Ms. D and I had been just a few hours earlier. I finally got to meet her man face-to-face. He sat behind an empty shot glass, a half-full beer, and was sipping an apple martini. Ms. D seemed a little tipsy while he was completely blotto. This made my blood run cold. I couldn't abide the idea of playing with someone even remotely drunk, especially someone that I knew wanted to beat my butt with a belt. Plus, coming in as sober as a nun, I didn't like being around someone drunk as it brought back a lot of negative emotions of my alcoholic ex-stepfather.

As soon as he left for a cigarette I told Ms. D, "I'm not into this at all."

She could tell.

I felt horrible as I knew I was disappointing her with my need to bow out. I did the only thing I felt I could do -- I offered to pack up my stuff and bring her the key to the room.

That's exactly what I did. As I packed I realized how much I didn't want to go back to the place where I was staying. I had already booked another room for the rest of the weekend but had planned on crashing on the couch after Ms. D and her man were done with me. But, to be frank, I had hoped they'd be done with me well before midnight as I was exhausted. The depression made me more tired as well. I could barely keep my eyes open as I got online and prayed that I could book the same hotel where I planned to go the next morning a day earlier.

I did.

I rolled my suitcase down to the bar and Ms. D met me outside for the key. I assured her that she hadn't done anything to upset me. At that point I really didn't realize that she had. I was numb to everything except the need to sleep.

It took too long to get down to the hotel and get settled into my room. In bed I tossed and turned for hours, despite my exhaustion, as I replayed everything that had happened that night, trying to figure out why I felt so bad. As you've read, I finally got the answers.