Love Me Tender

I love chatting to people. The ebb and flo of ideas, fun, and chaos is always so brilliant. Recently, Bee and Beekeeper were guessing which kitchen implement I had been recently whacked with. Along with other ideas, a meat tenderiser was suggested. I tried to fight against that idea getting in my head but then Bee sent me an image of an incredibly versatile (evil, cruel, terrifying) one.

The seed of the idea was planted. I looked it up and put it in my basket. Then I removed it. I did that several times. That tenderiser was too much. Too scary. It made my fear grow.

Honestly, that was whenever I knew that I was lost. My fear of it reached the point that it ignited my fear kink, and just in time before my next trip to see them, I searched the item again and ordered it.

I’m sitting here, floating with endorphins, and trying to write this post to share with you just how wonderful it was to have my arse, thighs, calves and breasts thoroughly tenderised.

I was scared. My fear levels were high. Every thud hit and pushed endorphins around my body and it was so good that I orgasmed.