Mistress Skye and Wednesday are my two favorite sadists. The energy exchange involved when either of them plays with me is fantastic. They have so much fun, which of course, makes it just as much fun for me. When they gang up on me, which they’ve done more than just a couple of times, it’s a laugh, and scream, riot. I just wish they lived in Tucson, or that I could get to Phoenix more often.
Wednesday has been involved in the Denver BDSM community for a number of years and is well known both for her knowledge, her sadism and her humility. She has frequently presented educational seminars at both Desert Dominion and APEX. She’s NOT what I call an “instant expert at everything” Dom. Before she engages in a new form of play, she does her homework, and seeks out the knowledge of others who are experienced at it. If it’s something that takes a high degree of physical skill, such as using a singletail whip, she finds a way to practice on inanimate objects until she’s attained enough skill to do it safely on a person. She has used a singletail on me. On my balls, in fact, which were framed in a humbler. If you don’t think that takes a very high level of skill, then I strongly advise that you stay away from singletails.
Mistress Skye has been a medical professional for quite awhile. She’s fairly new to BDSM. In fact, I was the first guy she ever beat, back when she was afraid she’d hurt me. She’s not afraid of hurting me anymore and has gotten very good at it. But she has never harmed me; neither of them have. I trust them both totally and would quite willingly, without even knowing what they have in mind, submit to anything either or both of them might want do.
A couple of months ago, I mentioned to them how I’d like to try a scrotal saline infusion scene. I thought of ways it could be improvised. None of those ways were any good.
Mistress Skye, with her extensive medical experience, did the research and then collected the sterile materials necessary to do it right and safely. After doing all this she planned a trip down to Tucson with Wednesday for Saturday, the 14th of March. Her plan was to get a hotel room so they wouldn’t have to drive all the way back to Phoenix right after the party.
While waiting for the big day, I’d been reading Wednesday’s blogs and learned about her growing interest in enema play and judicial caning. She wrote that one thing she wanted to try was a “punishment” enema and hoped to find a volunteer. Being, as I am, a “willing to try almost anything I’m sure to survive” slut, I volunteered. Since enema play isn’t permitted at places like Desert Dominion or APEX, I suggested that they come down early so we could do things like that in the hotel room before the party.
They picked me up when they got into Tucson, a little before 4:00 PM. We went straight to the hotel where Mistress Skye got two adjacent rooms, using her frequent flier miles, or frequent stayer points, or something like that. We started out with the enema play.
I’ve done a little of this before. I had one given to me a couple of decades ago, and have done it to myself, incorrectly as I later learned (from Wednesday) in preparation to be a demo bottom for a fisting seminar. The enema equipment I’d used was the cheapo two-quart things they sell in pharmacies. Wednesday’s equipment isn’t cheapo. It’s industrial sized, a one gallon bag, with a double bardex nozzle, which is something I’ve heard of, but had never seen before.
They gave me two enemas in the hotel room. The first was to clean me out. I took a little over half the gallon before I asked them to stop. The second enema was the punishment one. I took about three quarters of it. To be honest, the second one was less uncomfortable than the first. It burned a little when coming out, kind of like shitting after eating a lot of hot peppers, which is not something I find altogether unpleasant. Gives me a sort of warm and fuzzy feeling inside.
This is something I’d like to explore a lot more. I think I could get to like it a lot. Throw in repeated enemas of growing sizes, longer forced retention time, some good ass-whipping while they’re still inside and some strap on play or fisting after they’re expelled and I think it would be a whole lot of truly exhausting, “good clean” fun. I think I’m going to have to get some equipment like Wednesday has, for use on myself. Although not BY myself, as self inflicted pain or discomfort has never done anything for me. It’s just not fun unless somebody else is having fun doing it to me.
After the enemas and the time it took me to expel them, it was time for us to eat, and then head for the club. The place was packed with the most diverse, pansexual crowd I’ve seen there in quite awhile. I think DD’s repeal of its old “fluid exchange rule” is bringing back elements of the community who’d felt alienated by it for quite awhile.
We managed to get a back corner of the play area to ourselves, no small feat with a crowd of that size. We had the pillory, which I’ve rarely seen used, plus the gynecological exam table and another full sized torture table.
Mistress Skye and Wednesday started off by putting me in the pillory, which I’ve wanted to try since it first appeared at the club, and tanning my butt but good. It was delightful. As I expected, though, I was able to take the ass beating a lot longer than I was able to take being in the pillory. That thing is quite uncomfortable. Of course, pillories were invented as a judicial punishment device, not as a BDSM toy. Comfort is NOT what they were designed for. Since the one at DD is there as a BDSM toy, I’m going to recommend some alterations in it to make it more endurable.
I had to have them let me out of the pillory about halfway through the beating, and spent the rest of it leaning up against it. It is very good for that. As they always do, Mistress Skye and Wednesday put me into orbit with the beating and after my ass was beaten to the texture of well-tanned leather, I needed a break.
We’d expected and planned for that. While I was getting my second wind, Wednesday and Mistress Skye did some lovely needlework on Pashn. By the time they finished that, I was ready for the next round and it was 11:30 PM, about an hour and a half before the scheduled end of the party. We expected the scrotal saline infusion to take about an hour or so.
Actually, it took closer to two hours. Fortunately, DD doesn’t strictly enforce closing time. As long as people are still playing, someone is willing to DM and a Council Member is willing to hang around to close up, parties can continue, sometimes nearly until dawn.
Due to the blabbering of somebody who shall remain nameless, although I often like to refer to him as “me,” we had a considerable audience. I had never seen such a scene done at DD before and apparently neither had anybody else. This was fine; I’ve never minded an audience. In fact I love them, and since both of them love to teach, neither Mistess Skye nor Wednesday minded either.
The scrotal infusion itself was almost completely painless. I could not feel my scrotum expanding, as I watched the saline bag hung above my head slowly empty. The only times I could feel the expansion were when somebody would touch my scrotum. Mistress Skye had to do this often, because the needle needed frequent jiggling to keep the IV dripping. I think this might have been because of the smallness of the catheter she used, 22g.
Wednesday made up for the painlessness of the infusion by sticking my inner thighs, one of my most sensitive and therefore favorite torture areas, with rows of needles. Funny thing about needle play, sometimes you don’t feel them at all going through and sometimes they hurt like hell. The needlework kept me screaming occasionally throughout the infusion.
Mistress Skye had bought three bags of saline solution, two of them a half liter and the other a whole liter. Since this was the first time any of us had done this, she decided to use one of the half-liter bags. She had suggested that I bring a cock ring to keep the saline from migrating from my scrotum into my penis. Realizing, however, that I wouldn’t be able to wear a cock ring for however many days it might take for my body to absorb the saline, she decided this wouldn’t serve any purpose.
The saline did migrate to my penis and by the time the whole 500 cc’s was infused, my cock and balls looked kind of like a mushy, pink navel orange with a small metal ring, my PA piercing, sticking out of the navel. The PA proved quite useful when I needed to pee soon afterwards, as I could use it to pull enough of my penis head far enough out from the mushy orange to aim.
Mistress Skye also told me that I’d regret not having bought a pair of sweat pants, as putting my underwear and jeans on over my genitalia would be quite uncomfortable. But, it wasn’t. It felt kind of weird, but not bad at all. Of course, this is from the guy who gets a warm, fuzzy feeling from ginger root in his asshole.
There was no lasting discomfort from the infusion at all. By the next morning, I’d absorbed enough of the saline to have no problem finding my penis head in order to pee. By the time I went to bed Sunday night, my genitalia seemed to be a little over halfway back to their usual size and shape. By Monday night, they were completely back to normal.
When we finished Saturday night, Mistress Skye said she’s ready to do a demo on the subject. I, of course, volunteered to be the demo bottom. So, sometime soon, I’ll have to get a pair of sweatpants and arrange a trip to Phoenix. After all, she still as one and a half of saline.
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