Butt Plugged And Spanked

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Butt Plugged And Spanked
Thoughts I Had While Wearing a Butt Plug for the First Time For anyone who’s curious about what a butt plug feels like for the first time.
Thoughts I Had While Wearing a Butt Plug for the First Time
Thoughts I Had While Wearing a Butt Plug for the First Time
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Butt plugs may not sound glamorous to some.
My ass is on my brain because my lover has requested I arrive to his place with the butt plug he purchased for me already inside me. I don’t mind the request, it’s kind of our thing. He’s the dom, I’m the sub. But this is much different than the “garter belt and heels” requests of the past. Not only that, I have to be there at six, which means I have exactly 10 minutes to get to his place if I want to stay on schedule.
I have no idea how to actually put a butt plug on (in?). I’m running out of time and who knows how long it takes to watch a freakin’ butt plug tutorial. Come to think of it, who knows where to even find a butt plug tutorial?! I know I could Google it but, ugh, do I really want to see the results of ‘Quickest way to put on a butt plug’? 
Oh wait! This thing comes with instructions! Beautiful, beautiful, search history-less instructions in seven languages (Did you know “butt plug” in Dutch is “butt plug”?)! Okay, something about a 45 degree angle (Geometry?!) and using lube. “I have lube!” I shout to no one. ‍
I stick my finger ever so slightly in my asshole and immediately start having flashbacks. Not “finger in butt” flashbacks, but flashbacks of my, yes, more than one trip to the gynecologist with tampons stuck inside me. I know this is a different hole, a different time. But still, I worry. 
Wow. It’s in! That was easier than expected. I’m still breathing, and hey! I can walk! And kick! I’m like a kinky Sally O’Malley ! 
Uh-oh. I forgot to walk the dog. Shit. No. Don’t say that word! Darn. If I walk the dog, I will officially be running (waddling?) late. He’s giving me the eyes, poor thing. I have to.
Thank God, all he had to do was pee real quick. My sweet angel pup gets me and my tardy ass. I reward him with treats. 
When I signed the lease to my apartment, I felt blessed with a .2 mile walk to the subway. But suddenly these four minutes walking to the train feel like a hike. It’s not that I physically feel the butt plug inside me but mentally it is screaming. I remember to relax my face.
Okay. I’m officially on the train. Whew! Although, do I sit? Stand? I’ll sit. Slowly. 
I’m holding a magazine although I haven’t read a word for three stops. I wish I paid more attention in the dozen yoga classes I’ve been to. Knowing how to properly breathe would be good right about now. Is it through the nose out the mouth or the other way around? 
I feel like I’ve been sitting too long. I sit up straighter. Even though my lover can’t see me, I pretend he’s watching. I think I’m smiling too much. Reign it in, Carolyn. Nothing to see here, people. Just your average Sunday evening commuter...who is starting to feel warm. No, hot . How can you tell the difference between summer heat or butt plug heat? Shit. No! Darn! What if it’s like some sort of butt-Toxic-Shock-Syndrome-thing? The weather app says it’s 86 degrees out. Summer heat. 
We’re off the train. We’re off the train. Butt plug and I are apparently a unit now. We’re connected, we’re attached, we’re...about to fart. Is that allowed? Of all the days to drink a pot of coffee and eat broccoli. Always self-sabotaging, Carolyn! No, stop! I can’t be negative. Negative is... clenchy. Positive thoughts only. Note to future self: Next time, I’m asking for a full, 12-hour notice before butt plug requests.
The walk from the train to his apartment is usually my favorite part of the night. It’s just long enough to listen to a sexy song so I arrive wet and aroused. But I’m deciding against my usual routine tonight because it just hit me that I’m wearing a dress with no underwear. If I’m too wet, will it slip out? I should probably have a game plan if it does. What if it falls out as I’m crossing the street? I guess I’d pick it up, right? No, no, better idea. Kick it. Yes! That’s what I’d do. Leave the butt plug, save yourself. 
Green light. Time to walk. One two. One two. If the butt plug falls, kick with your shoe . Hey! It rhymes!
I’m finally at his building. The desk attendant is looking at me funny. I look down expecting to see the butt plug at my ankles but it’s still snug. 
My first elevator ride wearing a butt plug! I almost take a selfie. Come on. Live in the moment! 
Before heading to his door, I check the mirror in the lobby. Ah. Just the perfect amount of perspiration on my face. I do a spin. Mainly because I’m finally able to relax, but also to air out the stress of my walk. I let out a sigh even a yogi would be proud of. I knock, let out a laugh and wait.
The door opens. “You’re in trouble.” he says. I’m late. I feign my regrets as he feigns his anger. We’re both good at our roles. He turns me around and lifts my dress ready to “punish” me when…aha! He sees it.
I may be late, but I obeyed his request by wearing the butt plug. He is pleased and I once again feel like a good girl. Time to play.
My first butt plug commute may not have had me thermometer breaking, mercury blasting, bombs exploding turned on, but it certainly had its payoffs. Once I was able to relax, the sensation of being “filled” felt good. It was like wearing an outfit that made me feel good, made me feel sexy. No mirror or external validation necessary. I may have been wearing the butt plug to serve someone else’s kink, but it became my kink as well. It’s important to understand the kinks that work for you. And if you plan on experimenting with butt plugs, find the size that works for you too. I’m glad I started with a beginner BP. Frankly, I’m glad I started with one at all. My ass was something I avoided simply because of location. Sexy on the outside but exploring the inside felt like a step I wasn’t ready for until I was. I’m glad I did what felt right, when it felt right. ‍
Carolyn Busa is a writer/comedian living in Brooklyn, NY. Her goal is to make you laugh and make you blush. Read her blog www.mysexproject.com or follow her on Twitter and Instagram @misstoiletslave.




C.K. on October 24, 2021 at 4:22 pm




Jonathan Quincy Graves on October 24, 2021 at 4:41 pm




Judd on October 23, 2021 at 12:09 pm




Bob on October 23, 2021 at 10:55 am




Jonathan Quincy Graves on October 23, 2021 at 12:14 pm

{ Note: This is Chapter 6 of a story series. It can be read alone, but will make more sense if you start with Chapter 1, available here: Ch. 01 }
“You’ve got real talent as a video editor. It’s almost a shame John is so compliant. I’d love to see your mother’s reaction to this video.”
“Thanks, Suze,” Mary said. “It’s been fun. There is so much great material to draw from. I’ve kept it down to six minutes so that it covers the spectrum of events so far without too much repetition of scenes. We should have at least ten solid minutes to put up on the flat screen in a video loop by the time the divorce is final. I’m sure mother will be here for the party.”
Mary and I were at the kitchen table Friday evening, watching video of Mary’s almost-officially EX-husband John on her laptop. The video showed John being spanked, kicking and crying over my knee, spending time in the corner with a bright red ass, ironing Mary’s blouses while wearing only his sissy G-string, vacuuming the carpet in the bedroom in a lacy thong, knee-high stockings and heels, and modelling all of his new, lacy and frilly G-strings and thongs. Mary had well over an hour of footage, but distilled it down to five minutes, fifty-eight seconds. And not just the video, but also audio of John asking to be spanked and submissively taking directions for the execution of his wifely chores.
“So, I see you did some shopping,” Mary said, indicating the box I’d brought in. “What did you get this time? It can’t be anything John is going to like.”
“Well, you know how I’ve always said there are five significant milestones in the life of a submissive male. John has already achieved the first three, namely:
“Of course, his ‘panties’ are labelled in the package as male thongs and G-strings, but the ones I’ve chosen for him are no less feminine than any of the panties you or I wear. Actually, more feminine than anything in your panty drawer. And subconsciously, at least, he knows it.
“So, the fourth milestone is his first pegging. To that end…”
I upended an Amazon box onto the table in front of Mary. With a loud clatter, the contents were revealed.
“Ooh,” Mary exclaimed, “nice paddle. And what? Oh my god! A butt plug? Don’t you think that one is a little large? I mean, as far as I know, John has never had so much as a finger up his ass. That butt plug is nearly the size of a… an avocado. And pretty near the same color too.”
“Well, I see no reason to start small. I want him ready to take a really big cock for his first pegging. Not a ten-inch monster, but certainly not a little five-inch pencil dick. To make this next milestone significant, it should be marked with a fucking up his ass with a significant cock. I’d love to see John take a real man’s cock up his little boi pussy, but that is a milestone down a wholly different path.”
Mary used a finger to turn two plastic bottles so she could read the labels. “Astroglide and, um, Toy Life Foaming Toy Cleanser,” she read and giggled. Then she lifted and hefted the paddle. “And this? How does this paddle fit into your devious schemes?”
“That is what is commonly called a Spencer paddle. You can deliver some serious punishment with that baby, and it looks the part. I thought I’d make things a little more interesting for John this week. I’m going to let him choose between the paddle and the plug. Of course, in the long run, the choice is meaningless. He’ll eventually experience both toys no matter which one he chooses tonight.”
“Those are both pretty scary. How can you be certain he will pick either one? He may bolt back out the door when he sees them.”
“No, he won’t.” I pointed to Mary’s laptop, which was still playing the loop she put together. “We’ve got six minutes of video that he will do anything to keep from going viral. Plus, it has been two weeks since I let John out of chastity. For a beginner, that is a very long time. He won’t want to jeopardize a possible release this weekend.”
“So, are you going to let him play with himself in the shower this week?” Mary said.
“We’ll see. Probably not, but you never know. At least he never knows. That’s part of the fun. Or, part of the frustration, depending on whether you are the key holder or the cage wearer.” I had to laugh at my own cleverness, and Mary joined in. “I doubt John would find this funny if he were here, the poor boy,” I said. That added to our merriment.
We heard the sound of the garage door opening, which signaled John’s arrival home. I put the lube and cleaner back in the box and placed it under the table on the chair next to me. No sense in adding to the poor boy’s confusion. Mary stopped the video on her laptop, and I arranged the paddle and plug, so they made a nice tableau for John’s selection. I covered them with a dish towel so he would not see them until I was ready to present him with his dilemma for the week.
When John came in the door, I said in a cheery voice, “Oh, John, welcome home. Go ahead and strip down.” John must always strip to his panties when he comes home from work, especially on Fridays when I conduct what I like to call his “Review and Repentance” sessions.
“I went on Amazon and bought you two presents, and tonight, you get to choose between them. Won’t that be fun?”
While John was occupied in removing clothing near the garage door, I removed the cloth cover over the paddle and plug. Down to his pink thong, John folded his clothing neatly and placed it on the counter, then turned towards us at the table.
I detected his nervousness as he first came through the door. It’s to be expected. Being taken over my knee each Friday has to place a pall over his TGIF relief from the end of the work week. The moment when he saw what was on the table waiting for him was a classic. He stopped in mid stride, and you could see the shock and consternation written on his face.
He stared in silence for a moment, then said, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“No, we’re not kidding,” I said. “These are two toys I bought for you, and you get to choose which one you’ll experience first. Of course, either will be applied with loving care, but I thought it would be even more special for you to have the choice.”
He was sweating and tongue tied. The tension was delicious. I could hardly wait to hear what he said next. Would he choose? Would he argue? Probably argue. That would be the most fun. There are times when I hate to put up with his childish arguments, but at other times, his protestations add to the delight of the scene.
“You have got to be fu… kidding me,” he repeated. “I’m not going to choose either one. It’s about time I called a halt to this whole thing. You two have gotten way out of hand.”
He started toward his clothing, clearly planning to leave. I nodded to Mary, and she depressed a key on her laptop and turned it so John could see the screen when he faced this way again. The video began to play, and the audio was quite distinct: “Please, Susan, please give me my first spanking, bare-bottomed, over your knee.”
It was like we’d struck him in the back of the head with a baseball bat. He stopped so quickly he almost fell over. He turned back to us with horror on his face.
“Mary has been compiling and editing the video she’s recorded of you in recent weeks. I’m really impressed with the quality of her work. What do you think? I understand she has it all queued up in the cloud ready to be shared.”
The poor boy was almost in tears. “You can’t,” he said.
“Don’t be silly. It’s the easiest thing in the world. You just upload the video and set it for distribution to whatever list of people you like, and select a time of release. Then, if you don’t log on with your user name and password and bump the release date further out, presto, the video appears in everyone’s in-basket. It’s almost like magic.”
I let my words sink in while John watched himself, red faced, wearing nothing but his titanium cage, lower himself over my knee. As the first loud hand spank landed, I raised my hand to Mary, and she muted the playback. I suspect John was picturing his mother-in-law viewing the video with evil delight.
“So, John, what’s it to be? Would you rather feel your brand-new Spencer paddle blistering your ass, or the loving intrusion of Mr. Butt Plug? Oh, and don’t concern yourself. I bought plenty of lubricant to ease his way.”
John’s eyes focused back and forth between the paddle and the butt plug, beads of sweat forming on his brow. I glanced down to his cage, not concealed at all by the bit of pink material in his thong. Was it sticking out a little more than normal? Was his cock trying to erect? I wasn’t certain, but it did appear so. I had to smile with satisfaction. Despite his protests, I think the boy is getting into these kinky little games. Of course, two weeks of chastity could be a factor.
“Pick one, John, or by default, pick them both.”
He seemed struck dumb, but pointed to the butt plug.
“Sorry, John, I didn’t hear you. Which of my presents are you happier to receive? Be explicit please, and, of course, be polite.”
While Mary’s muted video continued to play on her laptop, she was also recording additional footage with her phone. I was hoping for something useful from this interchange.
“I, I’d like to have the butt plug, please,” John said.
Bingo! I thought. “I’m pleased to hear you say that, John. Now, what would you like me to do with your selection?”
“I’m afraid so, dear. And remember, be polite and sincere.”
“P, please could you use plenty of lube and p-push the… my butt plug up wh-where it, it goes.”
“I’d be happy to, John,” I said, stood and turned my chair out from the table. “But first, let’s get your weekly Review and Repentance out of the way. Then we can have a nice dinner.” I spread my legs and patted my left thigh.
“You thought I was not going to spank you this week? Don’t be silly. You need these maintenance sessions to keep you on an even keel. I only said I would not use your new Spencer paddle this evening if you chose the butt plug. Now, over you go.”
Once he was in position, I started with, “You’ve been a good boy this week, John. I’m proud of you, mostly.” I proceeded to mention a few shortcomings I’d noticed in his attitude, the adjustment of his panties in the morning, the performance of his chores, etc. From there, I delivered a good warmup with my hand, followed by a dozen or so stinging swats with Mary’s hairbrush. It was briefer than usual. I did not want the severity of this session to overshadow John’s trepidation about the coming plugging.
John stood in the corner while Mary gave our dinner the necessary final touches and I set the table. I put the paddle back into the Amazon box, and slid the butt plug to the far end of the table across from where John would sit.
We ate a pleasant meal, no one mentioning the butt plug lying in wait on the table. After dinner, John cleared the table and did the dishes in his thong and a pinafore style apron I chose for him. He was accumulating a nice selection of aprons, none of which might be called “manly”, but only two really frilly, girly full skirt pinafores. I put him in one of these to set the stage in his mind for the penetration to come.
When John was done with the kitchen and hung up his girly apron, I said, “John, dear, why don’t you go take your shower now. Report back to me when you are all clean and dry. Don’t bother putting on one of your thongs.”
“Could you please unlock my cage now, Susan? It has been two weeks, and I really should remove it for cleaning.”
“Let me see. Pull down your pink panties.”
“They’re maroon, and they are not panties,” John grumbled, while slipping them down to reveal the cage.
“Of course, they’re not. I don’t know what I was thinking,” I said as I took his package in hand and examined it from all sides. “You seem to be holding up well in your little cage. I don’t think we need to remove it tonight. Do the best you can in the shower, and dry yourself well. It will be fine for a few more days. You should probably shave around it again, though. Might as well touch up your legs too, while you’re at it.”
John did not push it—which was a good choice, given his circumstances—but picked up his clothes from the counter and headed toward his room.
When John returned, nude and all clean and dry, Mary and I were in the family room watching a movie on the flat screen. John stood to the side, fidgeting, and obviously not wanting to hurry the feared proceedings.
After several minutes, I took pity on the boy and said, “Oh, John, you look all nice and clean. Why don’t you join us, or you can go play on your computer. I’m not in the mood to introduce your new friend tonight. Let’s let it wait until morning. You can fix us all pancakes for breakfast, then perhaps I’ll be in the mood.” I saw no reason to eliminate his suspense too quickly.
John stood there for a minute, then mumbled
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