Painful Freedom

It's been over a year since I last spoke to my former Dom. I have missed Him terribly, but decided it was time to move on. This story is about the first time I used a toy He bought me, by myself.

It all started with writing a story. I'd had an idea for one when I was driving home and decided to write it out. I'd just submitted it to the site (this site actually) when I thought I should read some of the new submissions.

I browsed through the list aimlessly, not sure what I was looking for. I clicked on a couple - this one was boring. That one sounded fake. I was about to give up when I found one that was good, very good in fact - about a girl being trained by her new Dom. And just like that, my mind was racing; my heart pounding. I could feel the blood creeping up my chest, I was blushing, even though no one could see me or know what I was thinking.

I read the story again, and two others by the same author. I could feel the wetness between my legs, soaking into my panties. My body responding like an addicts when they see their drug of choice. My mind was swirling with one thought: I need to be penetrated.

Some women can't cum from penetration. But I can. If I cum without being penetrated it doesn't satisfy me; it's like my pussy is hungry and it MUST be fed. And tonight it is starving. I begin to rub myself through my pants, my face flushed. My mind swirling with desperation when my eyes fall onto the drawer where IT is hidden, the monster.

We called it the monster because it is 9 inches long and an impressive two and a half inches across. I cried and whimpered whenever I had to use it, but He always succeeded in making me cum on it. His voice telling me to shut up and take it for Him. And I did. Every time. And I LOVED IT. I loved Him telling me to shut up, I loved Him saying He didn't care if it hurt, and I loved being stretched for Him. Even being sore the next two days made me hot, because I had done it for Him, and He knew how much I loved the pain. I wanted His fist in me some day, and this was good training while we were apart.

But I had never used it without Him. And it had been over a year since it had last torn its way inside me - would I even be able to take it in me? But even with these doubts my mind wasn't thinking clearly - because I needed something inside me. Anything.

I took a deep breath and strode across the room, opened the drawer and pulled it out. It's pink jelly color made it look innocuous enough, but seeing it's thickness in my hand made my breath catch. But I was lost in my need, breathing heavy with want as I unbuckled my belt, sliding my pants down, not even bothering to take them off, just letting them pool around my ankles as I laid on the floor - too desperate for relief to even make it to the bedroom.

I lay on my back and put the head at my slit. It's wet, wet enough I should be able to do this without lube; something that was only ever done when I was being punished. My mind flashes with snippets of His voice - taunting me as He prepared me to use my favorite toy. He knew I loved the way it filled me, even as it felt like it was tearing me in two. He loved the way I begged Him to go slow, then whimpered it was too big and it hurt. He let me pretend I hated it, but He knew I loved every inch of it.

My heart is racing as I feel it part the lips of my pussy - will I be able to do this without Him? Part of the fun was Him "making" me do it, or, if it had been a while since I was stretched, talking me through the pain until I was cumming for Him, again and again.

But I lie there on my back, telling myself to relax. I rub the head against my slit, again and again until it's warm from the heat of my cunt and slick with my juice. I want it so badly - I want that painful fullness again. So I push, and push harder until the head pops into me and I throw my head back gasping in pain. But before I've caught my breath I've pushed two more inches in. I am flushed and panting with pain and want - I want more. I want to be filled.

But this is MY show this time, and it doesn't have to be like this. Slowly I withdraw the massive dildo until only the head remains, then push it it again, a little deeper. Then let it rest there a moment, then slide it out again, then back in, a little deeper. I let my juices coat it as it slides in and out, making it easier to get it in. Easier than the hard fast push He usually made me use - because He liked to hear me cry out and then whimper and groan as my body attempted to adjust to the mass so quickly.

I don't know how much time passes, but I assume it's several minutes until the fake balls press against me and I know I've taken it all. I groan in happiness as it satisfies the need I've had. I rest a moment, hand on my abdomen, relishing the pressure I feel inside.

Tentatively I begin to pull it out, then push it in again. My head tips back and I gasp at the exquisite pain of it - and once it's in I let out a groan as it presses against all the right places. My pussy walls cling to it, giving resistance as I begin to thrust it in and out. Again I hear His voice, telling me to go harder, faster; telling me to fuck myself for Him. Telling me He likes it when I stretch for Him. That He's going to destroy my pussy.

I close my eyes and relish the connection to Him, but also slow when I start to get sore and appreciate the pleasure that begins to fill me. I can do that now, go slow, without disappointing Him. And it feels disconcerting, but amazing. I thrust slowly but deeply until I feel waves of pleasure begin to tumble through me. I can't help it, I go faster, urging the waves on. I cum hard as my pussy clenches hard around the massive dildo inside it. It hurts to squeeze it so tight but the orgasm blots the pain. I gasp as the pleasure ebbs and all I feel is the painful stretching, I slowly slide the dildo out and breath in relief. I know I will be sore tomorrow, but my mind is clear again.

I stand and walk slightly bow legged to the bathroom where I wash the dildo - my juices and a trace of blood swirl down the drain. I wipe my hot sore pussy with a cold damp clothe and feel some relief. I return the dildo to its drawer and feel a surge of sadness, mixed with satisfaction - that I can do it myself.