July 31, 2013

Party Planning

Posted in stories at 5:15 am by littlesubmissions

Of it all, she liked the planning the most.

Running through every possible variation of a scene in her head, imagining his reactions, all the million things she could do to him. Adding and subtracting variables, moving parts around, shifting order, thousands of possible realities. And she got to choose which one she wanted to make happen.

Of course, when it came to reality, unpredictability entered the equation.

Phones rang, toys broke, giggle fits took over. The beauty of chaos, the thrill of that moment when she lost control and things went in an entirely different direction. The falling sensation of being at the peak of the roller coaster just before it dropped and weightlessness hit.

The best way to get that feeling was to try new things.

He concentrated harder, submitted more deeply, and gave himself to her more when things were new, when even he wasn’t sure how his body would react. Add spectators, and a lack of certainty in how they would react, and the scene became a pinball machine of unpredictability. Thoughts and sensations careened off each other, hitting lights, bells, whistles, and falling off the board until a new THWACK started them again.

Hence, the party.

Standing was always best. Keeping his body upright so he could maintain eye contact with their guests while he was on display. Find someone willing to whack his ass whenever his head dropped, and let him wonder how hard they would hit him. Where they would punish him. Another volunteer in front of him, to remind him to keep his eyes open and smile, to make polite conversation with while she tortured him.

Mostly with the fear of what his body was going to do.

For this party… a nice think ginger root. She could send him to the store, tell him to buy several, and have him peel and carve it into a plug shape at the table. Have him make several, then choose which one she liked the best. There was something delicious in watching his hands carefully craft the toys she would torture him with.

There was something delicious about the surprises as well though.

She wanted to feel his body tremble when she slapped the pads from the TENS unit on his ass. Watch his hands twitch when he realized he had no idea what it would feel like, or how it would react with the ginger in his ass. Would it make his body clamp down even harder, or force it out millimeter by millimeter? What would the punishment for that be? Would he be able to keep his eyes open, and make eye contact with their guests, the audience members to his humiliation?

She made a mental note to start the scene early, so there would be plenty of people still just standing around honking.

Irritated, she looked behind her. Someone in a Toyota leaning on the horn, waving angrily. She looked at the light, saw it was green, and started through the intersection. She hummed along to the stereo until she got to the next red light, then settled back in her seat. Where was she? She smiled as she remembered, and glanced around for police cars.

She flipped her phone open, and sent him a quick text.

“I think we should have another party soon.”

Preview: He glanced up at her, and arched an eyebrow. “Ballast?”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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