Wednesday, June 7, 2017

The Rubber K-Hole

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her.
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. 

(FYI: all links in this post are dead)

recovered post by Pervertically Virtuous

The Rubber K-Hole

by Pervertically Virtuous
Posted by slave-boy
As I write this the next morning I can still hardly believe it happened. It began with a mistake – I arrived to a work-sponsored party an hour late, and the mini-cruise boat was long gone. Dejected, I biked back home with no agenda for the evening. I went into Her room, handed over the drugs I was going to do (since I don't drink), and showered... [continued after image]
[image added 2016, original lost]
Earlier that day I'd started chatting with this crazy German guy on Fetlife who does some elaborate latex bondage scenes with a variety of younger submissives. I told him how I'll be in Berlin in a month and a half, and we agreed to meet up and get into some trouble together. Needless to say, I was horny all of yesterday as I shared the good news with Her, as well as a few pictures of the kinds of scenes this guy does.
So as I knelt at Her feet, clean from the shower, and bent my head over Her lap to accept the thick leather collar, She got a pensive look on Her face and said "Well, since it's not too hot today, I was thinking..." I could tell where She was going even before She finished the sentence, and could hardly contain my excitement. I only had 6 days left with Her and both of U/s want to make them count. "...that W/we should set you up like that picture you showed me. The one that 'really did something' for you. W/we have most of the stuff, right?" The picture wasn't anything too extreme, just a hot young latex-covered guy in a hogtie with plenty of buckles, restraints and chains. Simple, yet beautiful. I was already getting excited.
What I was not prepared for, however, was what She said next: "I want you to go into a K-hole".
My eyes went wide. "You really need to." I wholeheartedly agreed. I'm passionate about a specific style of electronic music that's weird, spaced out, and druggy – tailor-made for ketamine, a dissociative anesthetic that when done in high enough doses (enough to put you in a K-hole) can feel like you exist on a different plane, in a different dimension. Yet I've only ever done a small bump of it here or there. Never enough to become incoherent. She's described some truly out-of-this-world experiences while under the influence, and I'd been very eager to try.
Some preparations were in order. After I was all dressed in my latex suit, I loaded up my iPhone with a special playlist. Bjork's vocals-only album Medúlla would start things off, then I cued up some favorites – Ricardo Villalobos' Thé au Harem d'Archimède, Uusitalo's Vapaa Muurari Live, and Vladislav Delay's Multila. All of these later albums are very atmospheric and seemed like they'd be good for the trip. I wasn't mistaken.
Since I'd never been in the K-hole before, it wasn't easy to decide what would be safe and what wouldn't. Of course, being the glutton I am, I wanted to have the breath control hood on top of being already restrained, so we opted for a simple spread-eagled position. I had earbuds underneath everything to feed the music directly. She portioned out what looked like two healthy lines of K and after snorting them, I quickly started the music and got into the heavy breath play mask before I lost the physical coordination to do so. And I sat back to enjoy the ride as I felt Her clipping my hands and feet to the corners of the bed.
I felt myself sinking deeply, but my relaxation was held up by the right earbud cutting out due to the pressure unless I dragged the hood to one side with my head. I managed to find a decent spot and just stared into the blackness. I finally felt the pull away from reality to the otherworldly sound of Bjork's largely a capella and experimental album. At some point She clipped electrodes to my nipples and fed a mild random current into my nipples, which was extremely interesting – I still felt like I had an accurate sense of how intense the sensations were, but they were... somewhere else, maybe a yard or two below my feet. My sense of my own body was completely out of whack. One climactic song at the end had me starting to hallucinate – the blackness of the hood in front of me became the night sky, and I was beginning to slide forward. Unfortunately I was soon distracted by the sound again and lost the feeling.
When the album ended I asked if W/we could change hoods and headphones. This wasn't quite working. And, since I was forming complete, coherent sentences, I wasn't nearly fucked up enough. Time for Round 2. She sent me down to get some more water and had a laugh at my wobbly progress out of the room. I was mostly concerned about not damaging my suit. I managed to get the water, my big headphones, and use the bathroom all with resounding success.
This time W/we had me wear the thin Latexa rebreathing hood with a collapsing pocket in the front. My favorite hood in the whole world. Two larger lines of K, quickly getting into the hood, restrained with my arms down at my sides this time, and my big headphones on. Again, there was a bit of worry as to whether it would be safe to have my breathing so restricted, but I very soon realized that K is the safest thing for rebreathing. The intense calm and relaxation is exactly what you want when in a rebreathing hood. The slow deep breaths flowed through the folds of the hood with absolutely no problem. If my breath caught, I only needed to part my lips the slightest bit in order for the next breath to be a fresh one. And I didn't hesitate to enjoy the breathlessness until then...
I definitely zoned out, but didn't blast off into space the way She had been describing. I felt about as fucked up as I'd ever been in the past, out of my total of 4 other ketamine experiences. My proprioception was skewed, my sense of timing was off, but I was still thinking in complete sentences and getting aroused by the electricity to the point of conscious fantasizing and erections. "Being a slut again are we?" She climbed on top of me and nuzzled and kissed me through the inflating and deflating hood. I made soft moaning sounds and held Her as best as I could between my thighs. The second album finished and I said "Miss, I think I might need another bump of K". It was clear that I wasn't where I was supposed to be.
She was a bit flabbergasted at this point, since I'm not a regular user by any stretch and those were sizeable portions. "Fuck it," I said, "I guess I have to do more?" She served out three lines, each slightly larger than the ones I'd done before. "If this doesn't get you there..." She said. I made sure my rebreather hood was lubed and ready to slide on, then took the $20 bill carefully and plowed through the three white lines, one after another. I barely had time to get my hood on when I heard a ringing pressure in my ears. I can just about recall my head hitting the bed when it finally happened.
I fell through reality. Like this: 

In this case, though, it wasn't water I fell into. I could still see yellow-tinged light through the transparent latex hood. But my eyes went out of focus, and concentrated instead on a hallucination far beyond the latex. I saw an elegantly tiled ceiling, and apparently said to Her that I was in Florence, and that Villalobos himself was there. The ceiling tiles slid down and I was gone. I wasn't seeing anything at all. I was drifting through space, wandering from one unhinged memory or idea to another. Suddenly I realized I hadn't been hearing music for the longest time. I asked Her to play the music, since I'd already been missing it for so long. She later told me it was no more than 20 seconds. My sense of time was completely off. I wanted Her to know it was working, and managed to get out something like "oh my god, I'm so gone," except that I realized, in an incidental way, that it sounded like a distorted, extremely slowed down record. The words oozed out of my mouth.
As for what I saw and felt, I can hardly put it down into words. I felt completely loose and free. Every now and then I'd kind of surface a little and marvel that my breathing had been so steady and calm, and felt this sense of innocent wonder at what I was experiencing. I felt like the latex over my face was at times transparent, or not at all there, or that its in-and-out movement was the flapping of a tent that revealed a different landscape each time. Most of the things I "saw" or felt like I saw were yellow-tinged, which was just perfect. The electricity provided me with another steady stimulus to navigate around. Other than that, I could barely hold on to any coherent thoughts or memories. Everything – my whole life, my trajectory, my feelings, all felt so far away. I felt washed clean and simply tumbled through existence. I felt an immense peace.
And before the second song was over, before 20 minutes had passed, I surfaced just a little more to the point where I realized I was in my body, that my hands were over there, and those were my toes that I was wiggling. I was still much more out of it than before and enjoyed greatly the moment when a new track would begin, I'd refocus onto those tiles again, they'd start shifting and sliding downwards and I knew I was drifting back below the surface.
I remember, as I slowly came to and started being more directly aroused at the electro stimulation, hoping that She'd give me some very intense orgasm – holding my breath for a fantastic amount of time. I felt ready for that, I wanted it, but I knew it was completely up to Her and I was already so so grateful for the experience She was creating for me. Right before this third trip I thanked Her, in slow, deliberate words, for all of this.
Thé au Harem d'Archimède finished, a podcast by Abdulla Rashim started, and I started focusing more and more on the sensations on my nipples. I'd take an especially deep breath through the hood, breathe out as completely as possible, and savor the moments when little moans disrupted the steady flow of air. I was truly an object that She was experimenting on, and I was so content to be such.
By the time She said it was getting late, it was 3:30 AM and I was completely wasted. She cuddled me again, sat on my hips and stroked my face, kissing me through the hood and laughing as it inflated and deflated around Her face. I thanked Her again and expressed just how completely out of this world I'd been. She unbuckled my cuffs. I would normally have begged to keep the hood on and be played with more, but I'd been pulling air through that 1/4" hole for 4 hours. By far the longest session I've ever had in that one. I barely had the energy or presence of mind to shower the lube off of my body. But I summoned the last of my strength to wash out that suit, which I love so much. I came back to find Her mostly passed out in bed, but not too tired to lock me into my leather collar and then to the chain attached to the bed. Such a wonderful night.
Pervertically Virtuous | June 7, 2013 at 10:45 am | Tags: breathplay, drugs, electroplay, hallucinating, latex, rebreathing | Categories: BDSM, Sex Stories |

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TMI Tuesday: October 17, 2017 ~