leather

I am fascinated by people's fetishes, as well as my own. I have a very serious leather fetish, and for the life of me, I have never been able to pinpoint why. What is it about the smell and feel that's such a turn-on? Is it just the association that it has with the bdsm lifestyle? Again, I have to go back to my childhood, and in my prepubescent mastubation fantasies, I always thought of the same thing: to be encased in leather, with only my mouth, breasts, and sex exposed. I had never heard the terms 'sensory deprivation' or 'mummification'. I was twelve or thirteen, and I had never been exposed to any sort of fetish porn or videos. It was all purely organic, something within me that produced a desire so great, the mere thought of it could bring me to orgasm.

I remember going to a slumber party around this time, and one of the girls had brought a copy of Anais Nin's Delta of Venus. We passed it around and took turns reading it, and as I read it, I felt as if an entire world was opening up to me. I remember being hot and flushed, and keeping silent as the other girls giggled and talked about how weird it was.

I was, due to all my previous sexual trauma, a late bloomer in terms of the actual act of sex. I had protected my virginity for a long time with a well-timed blow-job. After the rape, I felt a sense of 'well, what the hell'. I was no longer a virgin, I might as well learn to enjoy sex. I was working at a specialty foods store and restaurant, and I set my sights on one of the chefs.

I knew nothing about him. He reminded me of Nicholas Cage in Wild at Heart. He was totally white trash.

But he looked like he could fuck, and that was all I cared about.

He was older than me, and experienced, and that was what I wanted. The first time we had sex, I lay there with my eyes closed tightly, and my hands balled up into fists. I felt like I was going to be ripped in two. He kept asking if I wanted him to stop, and through gritted teeth, I spurred him on. Each time, it got a little better, until one miraculous evening, when it didn't hurt anymore. That was the first time I uttered the words 'fuck me harder'.

From there, little by little, I started to reveal my fantasies. He laid me across his lap and spanked me. He tied me up. He put his hands around my throat while he fucked me. Then one day, I told him how I felt about leather.

He went out and bought me a collar. Not very good quality, but it was leather, and around my neck, and I had never felt so turned on and submissive in my life. He made me kneel in front of him and suck his cock. He led me around with a dog leash. He started fucking me harder, everything was more brutal, demanding.

Then he bought me the harness. Black leather straps that crossed between my breasts, encircled my waist, and went between my legs, with a large, cold metal ring that held my lips open cruelly. All I had to hear was the clinking sound of him pulling it out of the closet, and, like Pavlov's dog, I would salivate. I would be wet and on the brink of orgasm before he even strapped me into it.

He bought leather gloves, and he began wearing them during foreplay. He would finger me with them on, sometimes getting his whole hand in, whispering ' you're such a whore, do you like the feel of the leather inside yuor pussy?' And I would moan and cry, for it hurt, but I never asked him to stop. and I found that even if it hurt - especially if it hurt - I would still cum.

Comments

[Jules]

yowzer....!!!

You're fascinating!

[ninth wave]

Heh... are you sure you don't mean 'disturbing' or 'scary' or 'oh-my-god-someone-call-SRS'?

[annissa]

well done...mmm :)