A steady hand.

The sound was like running a wet finger over the rim of a crystal wine glass. A steady, single toned hum cutting through the dungeons background music. A Bakes Rosebud Dilator being stroked up the shaft with a moist disinfectant towel. I have come to appreciate the soft echos they make.

I am always meticulous about hygiene, but when it comes to urethral sounding, I am overly cautious. A single speck of dust can cause infection to set in. Every sounding rod is cleaned thoroughly before and after use. It has become a ritual and part of the play. It aroused him every time. There is something incredibly erotic about being chained to a wall while a scantily clad dominant woman strokes phallic shaped metal rods in front of you. He was erect and eager, watching me slowly clean my toys and waiting with anticipation.

“Number 5 and number 6 Bakes, 7/8mm Hegar, Vibrating UD, Wartenberg wheel”, my thoughts while adhering to the ritual sounded oddly mathematic and the medical instruments being laid out neatly on the small, tissue clothed spanking stool next to where he was restrained made it look like I was preparing to operate on his vital organ. I was taking my time and could smell the trepidation building within him, but the look on my face remained peaceful and serene, like nothing was out of the ordinary.

I gently placed the last of my cleaned tools onto the stool and lined it up neatly with the rest. I was ready to begin.

Turning sharply towards him and grabbing his manhood roughly, I leaned in close to his face with my teeth on show. He inhaled deeply and his body went taut as my claws gently prickled his sensitive skin.

“Mine” I growled through a clenched jaw as I tightened my grip.

His voice broke and shuddered as he nervously released the air in his lungs. “Y-yes Mistress”

Keeping eye contact, I gentled my grip and slid my hand up towards his tip, my fingers cradling the meatus of his penis while my other hand grabbed the 7mm Hegar from the makeshift medical table. His arousal was evident and was oozing pre-ejaculate.

I slid the 7mm Hegar sounding rod into his urethra. After months of practice my hand was expert and precise, I no longer needed my eyes to see what I was doing, I simply felt my way along the tract and his natural fluids supplied the lubricant. A slight twist at the bend of the rod and within seconds it was inside at the full length. His eyes widened at having been penetrated so forcefully, surgically and swiftly. His attempts to lean forward were dulled by the restraints and my relaxed facial expression turned to one of smiling pleasure as I held the rod steady and watched him finally give that shaky exhale that I have grown to expect and enjoy whenever something impacts his system.

The first rod is always the simplest. Easy, quick, pleasurably shocking and it stretches the ducts slightly for more complex play later.  His clear liquid oozed through my fingertips as I held the rod in place and with my unsullied hand I lovingly ran my claws through the hair behind his ear.

It was going to be a long and very pleasurable evening.

And I was just getting started.

Hegar Urethral sounds

Bakes Rosebud Urethral Sounds

8mm Vibrating Urethral Dilator (VUD)

Wartenberg Pin Wheels

All images are Copyright © 2012 AemiliaHawk. All Rights Reserved.

The best cruelty.

“It is just a little cut, Mistress.” He said as I inspected his nipple closely.
A very faint and miniscule red line adorned the tip. It looked beautiful.
“Too eager with the razor while shaving?”
“Yes Mistress.”
“The smallest cuts are always the most uncomfortable.” I said as I ran my tongue over a fang and continued to inspect the tiny wound with interest.
My sadistic mind began to tick over the possibilities. For me, this is automatic.
“Lay down.” I said forcefully as I pointed towards the bed.
He hesitated for a few seconds but did as he was told. For him, this should have been automatic.
I spent a few minutes chaining his wrists and ankles down. It gave me time to mull over the ideas forming. I decided simplicity would be best. Nothing quite beats tactile contact with a sharpened claw in an open wound. Regardless of how small the wound.

Have you ever heard the expression “You need to be cruel to be kind”? Well, it works both ways.
The best cruelty, the kind you can taste in the air and which sends a sadistic rush of pleasure down the spine, comes with kindness, relaxation and a false sense of security.

I removed a surgical latex glove from its container (I always keep a box of these handy, they have so many uses) and watched his expressions as I seductively walked towards where he was laid on his back.
He was already erect. But the gentle hip sway, the slow process of one foot in front of the other, the click of heel on tiled floor and direct eye contact with a knowing smile was an assurance he would remain so.
The glove was placed over his member. It was simply to keep his juices contained and off my rather expensive clothing. His eyes widened as I lifted a leg over his waist and sat on his stomach. His look was one of slight worry and he had good reason to. It was likely he was questioning why I was being so nice.
Stockinged thighs wrapped around body, a slight pelvis muscle flex to further distort attention and a forward lean to draw eye to cleavage.

I was being really “nice”.

Subtly on my part and oblivion on his part, my own attention returned to that miniscule bloodied cut.

I gently caressed the clean, unscathed nipple. A touch as soft as liquid silk. No doubt running shivers down his spine from all the tease up to this point.

And then he felt it. My other hand, unseen, unheard, unnoticed, had slowly made its way to the gashed nipple. My pointed claw pressed forcefully inside the cut and he grunted, his face turning red with the pain and his attempts at keeping the moans of agony contained. He struggled, but the chains held his limbs securely and the weight of my body on top of his kept him from attempting to dislodge the claw.

The expression on his face (aside from the pain): one of shock and realisation as to what I had been doing all along. It was equally as beautiful as that tiny nipple wound when I had fist seen it.

And now it was my turn to be the one with that rush of pleasure down the spine.