Thursday, March 31, 2011

Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 2

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 2


Copyright © 2008 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

 “Mister Blackstone, a pleasure to see you this evening.”  Thanks to the alert by Danny the bartender, the strange man in neck to toe latex and the flowing overcoat was able to greet the newcomer within seconds of him entering the bar.
“Efficient as ever, Mr. Mortson.  I’ve decided to observe this new prospect you’ve found for me before making my decision.”  The newcomer was an older man.  Well over 6 feet and nicely muscled with closely cropped thin white hair, Francis Blackstone radiated calm assurance and authority.  He practically shone, his own latex uniform polished to perfection.  Blackstone wore a form-fitting neck entry catsuit with a codpiece, calf-hugging boots ladder laced with bright white cord and what could only be described as a utility belt that Batman would be proud of.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Piercing Experiences: Nipples

Before
Most of my life, my nipples have been horribly insensitive.  I’d know if someone was touching them, but they were rarely pleasurable.  Sure, they could be hurt and it wasn’t hard to cause them pain.  But again, there was no gap between being aware of sensation and the sensation of pain.  Some pigs enjoy the nipple pain.  There was no pleasure, or pain/pleasure combination.  I didn’t get enjoyment from the pain, and I still don’t.

What I learner over time though was that after really rough nipple play (hey, even though I didn’t enjoy it, I’d be bound and couldn’t (wouldn’t?) object to what the top did), my nipples would be pleasurably sensitive to very light touches afterwards.  When the contact was kept light, the sensation effectively short circuited my brain.  I didn’t go into sensory overload, per se, but all of my attention would snap to the feeling of the light caresses of my nipple’s nubs.  I would go slack-jawed as my eyes closed and I would sigh at the sensation.

I loved those feelings when they would happen, but I rarely let people push me hard enough and the people who I did play with that were likely to push that hard were unlikely to be of the type to be so gentle afterwards.  I can count only a handful of instances where I had that experience.

That changed in July 2008.

Piercing
I’d been talking with a Master in MD for some years and he’d shown an interest in helping me with a fantasy of mine.  I knew I wanted my nipples pierced and also knew I’d be too much a coward to follow through.  July 4th weekend in 2008, I found myself strapped down to the bondage table in his basement.  I was completely immobilized: mitts, blindfold, straps over arms, legs, torso.  Adding in head and chin straps completely removed my freedom of motion.  I was stuck.

And while I was completely stuck, I got stuck.  14 gauge needles (1.6 mm) went through first one then the other of my nipples.  Stars exploded behind my eyes.  If not for the blindfold, I’m sure I’d have had tunnel vision.

After Healing
Immediately, the “wiring” got connected.  That “lost in the feeling” experience came all the time now.  For the first few months, even the motion of my t-shirts would be horribly distracting.
I loved it... except for the fact that people seeing a new piercing tend to gravitate to playing with it.  For the next year and a half, my nipples would be almost healed when someone would play with them just a bit too much.  (Yes, I was guilty of this myself).  One or the other nipple would get irritated and then infected.  It was never anything bad, just really annoying.

Around January 2010, I took out the left nipple ring.  It was the one that gave me the most problems.  The nipple healed up in days, but the hole itself was completely closed within hours.

Jewelry
I originally started off with some circular barbells, but I think they may have been better off starting with a straight barbell initially.  I switched out to straight barbells while healing.  They didn't get hooked on or in things quite so easily.

I'm currently wearing a 10ga circular barbell which I'll occasionally switch out for a captured segment ring, which I'm quite fond of.

Now
Since then, my nipples have been quite sensitive.  It's easy to cause me pain with them, and I still don't enjoy that pain.  In fact, I find that once they've been used to cause me pain, I don't enjoy nipple play for a while afterwards.  It's not until they're back to the new norm that I enjoy them.

I may get the left nipple re-pierced, I haven't decided.  I'll probably need to be strapped down again for that, because it hurt that much.  My other piercings were MUCH easier.  But those are other stories

Monday, March 28, 2011

Photos: Snogging Skinheads

I think skinheads are, to put it bluntly, fucking hot. Attention to detail, sharp dress, well kept boots that they show off well. The ones I particularly like are usually a bit on the aggressive side too. Mix that in with a bunch of perverts or sexual deviants, and I'm a happy camper.

During a trip to Berlin in 2009, I got to go with a bunch to an abandoned hospital outside of the city. I brought my camera. These are some of the hottest pics from that session. I didn't do any "art direction", I just took pictures of them being themselves.


IMG_2504IMG_2521IMG_2524IMG_2529IMG_2531

The whole set of the Berlin Abandoned Hospital is available on my flickr account.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Story:The Bathroom KO, chapter 2

The Bathroom KO

Chapter 2


Copyright © 2005 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.

What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

"Hey John, could you pass me that monkey wrench?" I pass Fred the wrench by the tail as I'm being jostled by the pack of wolves passing by. "Bill, could you keep it down in here? These wolves are being really rambunctious. Bill? Bill!" The jostling keeps getting worse . . .
. . . I wake slowly, being bounced around. 'Augh, I hate waking from KOs', I think. My face is planted against a molded plastic floor. Another bounce. I try opening my eyes and meet resistance... and I instantly recognize that tackiness on my face, 'Duct tape'. I can feel the tape wrapped all the way around my head, and I silently thank the universe for the fact I got a high & tight haircut the day before.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Distracted while cleaning my latex

Sunday I was spending the day inside.  I’d been wiped out from the day before an needed some “me” time.  So I took the opportunity to clean the apartment.  I started off by putting away laundry then shuffling around some of the furniture and getting a better arrangement of the living room layout.  After, I worked on trying to black a pair of pretty ratty boots.  They were a pair of pretty cheap black jungle boots, cracking leather after only a few months.  I did a decent job, but there’s only so much can be done.

Then came cleaning my latex.  I’d worn some of my latex recently, so I needed to pull them out and wash them off...  but I didn’t get right there.  Something about spending that time blacking my boots put me in a mood...

So around 3PM in the afternoon, I started putting on my new catsuit from STR (skintightrubber.com).  Actually, what I did first was apply a copious amount of lubricant and slip easily into the suit.  It was perfect.  The suit is the neck-entry model, size “large short” at 0.45mm thickness.  Very nice indeed.  I didn’t stop there, though.  On top of that I put on a pair of latex gloves.  The crotch zip got near-immediate use because I was finding myself pretty horny and started stroking.

Since I hadn’t layered in a while, I thought I’d add a little more.  Next went on another of my recent acquisitions, a transparent Matrix Catsuit from Libidex.  Actually, I hadn’t bought directly from Libidex.  I found they had a listing on e-Bay and managed to snag the suit for £123, instead of the normal £225.  A pretty good price.  The attached feet were great.  The suit is made more out of panels than long sheets of latex, and gets an interesting look from that, especially with the transparency.

With my torso, hands and feet covered, I knew there was only one thing left to do.  I went to put on a hood.  What did my hands land on first?  Well that would be the Mr. S Leather latex urinal hood.  I was kind of surprised that it actually fit me, but it fit well over my head and succeeded in sealing me into my latex cocoon.  All except my cock which hung free.

I stood in the bathroom, watching my alien reflection stroking, and knew what I had to do.  I went and got a bottle from the kitchen and filled it.  Moments later, I felt the salty tang of my piss as I emptied the urine-filled bottle into the hopper on the hood.

I actually liked my taste.

My bladder was empty and so I decided to be mean to myself.  I wasn’t going to let myself out of my latex until I got off.  And I wasn’t going to let myself get off until I poured a whole 1 liter bottle of piss down my throat in one go.  It didn’t help (or did it?) that I’d just emptied my bladder.

Knowing that I’d have to really drink a lot to get out a liter now, I started filling up cup after cup of water and pouring it into the front of the urinal hood.  That’s an evil device.  If the urinal cup fills to the top, it will cut off your breathing through your nose.  Definite incentive to swallow faster.  I was kinda harsh to myself.  My right hand lubed, I was stroking while practically water-boarding myself with cup after cup of water until I felt bloated, but my bladder wasn’t filling yet.

Waiting for my bladder to fill, I went to watch some porn.  I’ve got some really hot video I downloaded off of BDSkin’s website a few years ago.  Watching immobilized skinhead bondage while I’m trapped in rubber with a piss funnel?  Yeah.  That worked well.  I was dripping precum when I wasn’t pissing.

The piss did come.  It came in dribbles for a while.  I sabotaged myself when the bottle was about 1/3 full. I poured the piss over my face into the urinal while I stroked and accidentally snorted the piss up my nose.

I now had the taste in my mouth and the smell in my nose.  I was practically whimpering as I waited for my bladder to fill again, and it did.  And again, I got in my own way by diluting the piss with warm tap water and pouring that down my throat as well.

I found myself begging . . . myself.  I guess I’m a pretty aggressive top, even to myself?  I was swimming in piss and being horny as hell.  I would take breaks from watching more BDSkin porn to fill up the bottle.  In time, I filled it up and let myself grab some lube and start stroking off.

Watching myself in the bathroom mirror, I filled up the urinal hood’s cup quickly and started chugging down as fast as I could while quickly getting close.  I may have had 5 seconds from when the piss ran into my nose before I shot high up on the mirror, higher than my head, and I kept pouring as I shot and shot.  Nasty top Reddy “forced” subby pig Reddy to finish chugging his piss long after he’d finished coming.

It was past dark when I finally stepped into the shower to finish “washing” my latex off, making it easily three or more hours in full coverage.  I think the new gear fits pretty well.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Story:Eternal Rubber, Chapter 1

Eternal Rubber

Chapter 1

Contains: Rubber, bondage, ambiguous consent
Copyright © 2008 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

 “I was born in the Scottish Highlands in 1642.  I am immortal.”  He said it with what Alex thought was a sad attempt at a Scottish accent.
“What, and ‘In the end, there can be only one’?”
“You’ve heard this one before, then, I take it?”
“I have seen a movie or two,” Alex quipped, “I may be young, but I’m not that young.”
The stranger in black smiled, “Well, I do like the line, it sounds eerie and mysterious.  The guy who wrote the screenplay  for ‘Highlander’ probably stole the plot from somewhere else.  So what brings you to the Abyss?” he asked, gesturing around the darkly lit bar.  “You’re here a bit early for the regular bar crowd.”
“I just moved here from Iowa.  Finished college and wanted to come to New York and get some life exposure.”
“Exposure, eh?  Well, you certainly are screaming ‘fresh meat’ with that look.”  The man indicated Alex’s clean white t-shirt, stonewashed blue jeans and tan workboots.  “Certainly says ‘clean cut’.  What’re you looking for?  Oh, what’re you having?”  The man signaled to the bartender.  “My usual, Danny.  And whatever my new young friend is having.”

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Catharsis

Catharsis

Flogging
Copyright © 2006 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
What follows is a dramatization of an actual experience of the author.
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org
Observe the darkness of space. Trillions of stars sparkle in the infinite reaches, there is no sound. The silence is oppressive. Your view pivots past an incredibly close star to view a small nearby planet mostly covered in a thin film of water and surrounded by a mixture of gases.
As you draw near, you begin to hear the voices, words, ideas, the thoughts of billions of thinking people. Your attention draws to one of the landmasses and the cacophony quiets but is still unintelligible. Drawing closer, falling through the cloud cover, you drop into an area over a smaller mass of water, heading towards land.
The area is dark, as this piece of the planet has just rotated away from its star. The cacophony lowers to a mere din as individual voices rise and fall in dominance. Your vision falls on a small grouping of buildings with tents adjacent to them. There are only a few hundred voices now.
Perspective dives through the roof of one tent as if it was a mirage and there are people walking about. X-shaped wooden frames are arranged throughout the tent, each taller than the people. As if tuning a radio which is picking up multiple stations, individual voices drift in and out of focus. Drifting above a pair, one them takes off his shirt and steps up to the crossed wood frame. The two voices are dissonant. One is planning, firm and direct, the other is erratic but suppressed with tense undertones.
The one standing against the cross has his hands clasped together around the middle of the frame. The other stands behind and as he places a leather strap over the first one's eyes, perspective dives further down again, and sight disappears, returning to black. However, the sound is amplified. Not only do you hear the thoughts of the man against the cross, but you hear what he hears.
You find yourself a passenger in the man's body, watching and listening to the world around him, through him. He may be unable to see, but in his mind's eye, he's seeing and feeling the cross in front of him pressed up against his body as he sets his feet. At the same time he also is looking at his body from behind, a sort of faint ghost image of himself. The view from behind is as if from an inch or two behind and at about the height of his head, looking down.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Story:The Bathroom KO, chapter 1

The Bathroom KO

Chapter 1


Copyright © 2005 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
What follows is a piece of fiction.  Any similarity to living persons is coincidental.  The author does not condone the activities described herein, though he has been known to enjoy similar activities himself.
Comments to skip (at) reddywhip.org

I'm at work, dressed normally: combat boots, blue jeans, t-shirt under a black sweat shirt. It's late and I'm headed home at the end of a long day at the end of a long week. I stop off at the bathroom on my way out. So I'm standing at the urinal in my green bomber jacket, taking a piss. I hear someone moving in one of the stalls but think nothing of it. The door opens, and I figure the guy's walking past me to the sinks.
*SLAM*
I'm thrown forward against the urinal and the wall, my hands still holding my cock, so they're pinned inside the urinal. Luckily a hand comes around to grab the front of my face before my head hit the wall. I still hit it, but my head was cushioned by the hand.
Gasping, confused, and slightly stunned, it takes me a moment to recognize the smell of the chloroform on the rag.

Story time

I've started posting stories, beginning with some of my older stuff.  I've decided to cheat and take advantage of my Blogger's scheduled publishing feature.  I've got one story/chapter being posted every Thursday at 9AM from now until mid July.  Thursday is fiction day.  I'll make other posts with other stories and commentary, but for now, I've got some content rolling.

I've still got pictures and personal experiences to post.  And since I'm locked in chastity (yes, again), I'm going to have some free time to think about it.

I've disabled automatic cross-posting over to my livejournal account, because none of the formatting translates.  Also, the stories which I'm about to start posting have already been posted over there.  In the mean time, I'll do a manual cross-posting.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

The Truth: Feb 2011 Edition: Where in the world is . . .

In response to my February Frenzy: "The Truth", I was asked the following by someone who shall remain nameless, unless they reveal themselves.
I may have missed this, but where exactly in Chicago are you located?

Also, if you want to, any photos of the local scenery will be awesome.
Well, I'm living in the West Loop area of Chicago, near the Ogilvie Transportation Center. If you want more exact, buy me a drink some time.

Anyway, I don't have many pics of the area, but here's some I took just before Christmas.

Chicago FD 2010-12-19 - 01Chicago FD 2010-12-19 - 02Chicago FD 2010-12-19 - 03Chicago FD 2010-12-19 - 23Chicago FD 2010-12-19 - 24Chicago FD 2010-12-19 - 30


[ If you're reading this Blogspot, you can find the old questions and answers for this thread on my Livejournal at http://reddywhp.livejournal.com/tag/the%20truth ]






Look to my new blog at http://reddywhp.blogspot.com/