Saturday, December 13, 2014

The Knotted Rope

This morning I received approximately 60 pages of manuscript from Breanne, all of it concerning last weekend's "Abuse Breanne's Pussy Party."  And while we will not be posting it here on the blog since it will be included in Breanne's "Tales of a Nympho Humiliation Pain Slut Volume 11" (Ten is already complete and we're just editing now,) there was one little section that I thought was so amazing that I want to share it.  So enjoy.  - MA

So I took a breath and another step.

The rope was just a little thicker than my thumb and piss poor quality.  Strands peeled off, essentially making the entire length into a brush that scoured and grated my pussy.  I made it to the first knot with two baby steps and another cane stroke that wasn’t quite as bad as the first two.  My clit hit that knot and I felt the awful texture of the rope grab hold of my clit and seemingly pull it down under me as I tried to go over it.  Then there was this sort of half erotic, half agonizing pop as my clit was abraded and the knot slipped down through my petals.  I’d of course ripened, my body’s natural defenses against such personal calamity.  Gushing goo, the knot slid down through my open flower, soaking up fluid and scratching tiny red lines across the inside folds of my labia.  

Walking a knotted rope is a tri-part experience.  The first, which I’ve described above, is what I like to refer to as “the clitoral impact” or “humping the hedgehog.”  Clitoral Impact is where the knot first hits your clit. You feel the pressure and work up the courage to rise up as high as you can on tip toe, your calves burning and your toes aching, knowing that it’s all pointless anyway.  The knot presses at your clit and you feel how rough it is, like a cat’s tongue or a splintery wooden board.  And then, despite every instinct screaming “get the fuck off the rope!” you push forward.  Your clit doesn’t just rub against it.  It get’s snagged, the soft flesh pulled downward and under as the knot works its way into the opening rift of your sex.  The knot moves past and while the rope still excoriates that little nub, it slips back into position, waiting for the next knot to strike it.  But the really horrible part is that if you get aroused, wet and wanting, if you suddenly feel the urge, you start to thrust your hips at the knot, letting it strike your clit over and over before you finally “hump the hedgehog”, crushing your clit against it before you even try to ride the swell.

The second part is what I like to call “the pop.”  The knot slides through your petals, and if you aren’t hurting too much from having your clit practically ripped off, then this is where a massive bulge in the two thin lines of burning heat blossoms to score the entire width of each fold of your labia.  Then the line dips and the knot literally pops into the opening of your vaginal tract.  The knot actually goes in deep enough that for a moment, you think you’re about to get fucked and your body opens up, preparing for the penetration.  It’s just a response, a physical instinct triggered by the pressure. But no, it’s just the knot, and while it’s there it does this little round swirl to tenderize your opening just enough to torment you.  Then it moves on.

The third part begins with the excruciating passage of the knot over your perineum, which has already been severely scratched from the rope.  It’s the lowest point on your body and technically is taking the most strain.  This part of you is also horribly sensitive, tender, and it’s what is really making you wince.  You hurry, past this, knowing that speed won’t help but since it’s your body in charge, and not your brain, it doesn’t matter.  The knot then dips again, but it’s not this popping sensation.  It’s just a dip, but since that dip is actually your bottom, it’s like wiping your butt with a dry luffa sponge. (Don’t try that by the way. It’s not pleasant.)  The knot sits there for a moment because you pause.  You’re past the perineum and you’re privately saying “thank God!” but you know that you still have the tender crack of your ass to go.  So you have to gather enough energy to get the last bit over. So despite the fact that you are literally sitting on the knot, letting it dig its way a little into your ass, you finally move and let it scour its path through your buttocks until you are free and clear, only another four inches away from another knot.

Now, try doing that with a madman smacking your ass and tits with a cane in order to keep you steadily moving.  One of these days I’m going to walk a knotted rope that is smooth, thin, and soft, while those watching let me take my fucking time.


  1. Wow. Makes me want to walk a knotted rope now! thanks Breanne!

  2. I'm still waiting to see if you'll do the the three rope version. One that you walk as described very nicely above. One hanging over your head with the hook of a pants clothes hanger hanging from it. The clips of the pants hanger clipped onto your nipples. Knots tired in that rope so you have to tug the hook over the knots with your nipples. A third rope below you, ankle height, with a loop tired to two clover clamps attached to your labia. Also knotted so you are also trying to go down to allow the loop between the clamps to go under the knots of the low rope.



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