Lessons in Kink - Little Kinks

by Erotickynk


I believe that life comes down to a series of moments. Your favorite Christmas toy, your first love, your first heartbreak, graduating High School or College, that sort of thing. But also for me there were moments of intense sexual experience. Some were prolonged and overwhelming, others were small but still had a huge impact on me.


The Lift

One such experience happened to me when I was 11. There was an older boy - a teenager - named Kevin. Kevin was always at us girls in the housing complex we lived in. Calling us little whores, little sluts, asking if we wanted to fuck or suck his cock. He was a mean-spirited kid, but I was somehow drawn to him. He was like a sore inside your mouth - you just can't keep your tongue away from it.

One Saturday I was bored and Kevin and I were the only kids out in the complex, so - of course - I was taunting him. I don't remember what I was saying to him nor what he was saying back, but I recall laughing and following him as he walked toward a narrow passageway between two of the condo buildings. Being young and foolish, I followed him into the passage, not realizing that no one could see us in the narrow space because of the bushes at each end. I'd hit the midway point - about forty feet in - and I hadn't noticed that Kevin had slowed and I was getting closer to him. All of a sudden he turned and rushed me. I shrieked as he caught me, but little girls are always shrieking so I'm sure that if someone heard me they paid it no mind.

Kevin pinned me to the stucco wall with his hands on my shoulders and a knee against my hip. He was calling me a little slut and asked me if I wanted to get fucked. Again, I don't recall what I said to him, but I'm sure it was something cheeky and defiant.

Kevin kept me pinned with one hand on my chest and his knee in the hollow of my hip and slid his other hand down the front of my jeans. He went right under the waistband of my underpants and I recall this shocking me - feeling his hand slide over my mound and curl under between my thighs. Then he hooked one of his fingers and slid it inside my cunt. I shut up at that point and was no longer thinking about taunting him. Then he did something that had a lifelong impact on my sexuality. He lifted me.

Dropping his knee and with his finger hooked firmly inside my cunt, Kevin pulled up hard, I went up on my tip-toes then felt my feet leave the ground. I remember his evil grinning face as he pinned me there, one hand on my chest and the other with a finger hooked inside me, asking me if I liked it.

As I hung there, my pelvis pushed outward and my legs dangling as he held me there, I recall feeling shocked by it and though I wouldn't say so, I did like it. It only hurt a little, but mostly it felt deliciously perverse, the pressure there took my breath away. It felt like his hand was clamped to my crotch. I was sliding down the wall and my tiptoes were just starting to touch when he leaned into me and pulled me up hard again. He did that three more times. Hanging there with most of my weight on my cunt and pubis was one of the most overwhelming sexual experiences I'd had. After a few minutes he laughed and let me go, me sliding down the wall to stand on wobbly legs as he walked away. I have to admit, that if he'd wanted to at that moment I would have gladly let him fuck me.

I recall spending the rest of that day in kind of a daze. I couldn't get that feeling out of my head and wanted it to happen again. But how do you ask someone to lift you up by your cunt at that age? I tried to recreate it in bed that night, but I didn't have the strength to do what Kevin had done to me.

I would experiment with other restraints as time went on, but being lifted by Kevin that day has stayed with me.

Something Deep and Dad Catching Me

After I lost my virginity at the age of 12 [another story for another day] I kind of went sex crazy. I managed to get with about six more guys in the next two years. None of them stuck around because I was pretty immature and was probably annoying to be around.

I also masturbated like a mad thing. I don't think there was anything long and firm in our condo that I didn't use to fuck myself. But as I experimented I found that I had an itch I couldn't scratch. When I got horny and masturbated, I'd get this craving kind of tickle deep inside me that I couldn't reach with my fingers or anything I was using. Sure, I'd cum but I still wanted to reach deep enough to satisfy this weird tickle. I just couldn't get to it through my vagina.

Learning about anatomy around that time and in particular about our digestive tract, I discovered the structure of my rectum and my large colon. I was sitting in science class, looking at that diagram of my insides and day dreaming about how I could get something that deep inside me.

I started scoping things out around the condo and discovered that the toilet brush in the upstairs bathroom had a long narrow nylon flexible handle that flared a bit on the handle part. It didn't take long before I snuck it into bed with me. The idea of hygiene was still a couple years away.

I went to bed that night and worked myself up and that craving/tickle was there. So I took the nylon wand and got it slippery with Vaseline and slid it into my rectum. It felt very odd, but I could tell that I was on my way to finding that tickle.

It wouldn't go in very deep at first until I realized that all the meat that was my vagina and uterus was making things tight in there. I had to angle it down by lifting the brush part and work it slow to get under my uterus. Once it was under there I could feel it pressing upward and that was a delicious feeling.

Remembering the anatomy chart in school that showed me the twists and turns of my rectum and bowel, I worked my angles and got the nylon handle to sort of make a right turn and head for the left side of my belly. I had to work at it to get through that sphincter at the top of my rectum, but once it was through it slid in fairly easy.

Now I know I'm writing about this in a casual matter-of-fact way, but believe me - it wasn't. First it was scary, working that thing so deep into myself - there was a possibility that I could hurt myself badly inside. The other thing was that the deeper it got, the closer I got to that tickle and the more worked up I became. I was sweating like crazy and very close to cumming by the time that thing was inside my colon.

Once it was in there I felt it touch that tickle, so, being the slut I was, I pushed in it a little deeper and felt the sweetest feeling radiating from my belly. It only took about three rubs on my clit to get me cumming, and I found that when I came and my belly tightened, lifting my shoulders up off the bed, it put more pressure on that handle inside me which made it even better. I could feel it rigid and deep in there - I was impaled.

It was the second night of me doing this that my Dad opened my bedroom door just as I was cumming. I always pulled the bedding up to my chin when I masturbated - because I did it naked and I was afraid of being caught. And I was. My deep belly orgasm hit me just as Dad opened the door to say goodnight . I saw the door opening just as my belly tightened and lifted my head and shoulders off the bed. Our eyes met and he must have known I was cumming. But I tried to fake it and got my elbows under me and said; “Hi Dad.” as normally as I could.

Looking back on it now I don't know who I was kidding. Even I could hear the quaver in my voice and my face was wet with sweat.

Dad just smiled and said goodnight and closed the door.

So that is where my impalement fantasies come from and the thrill I have about being watched - a theme that shows up in some of my stories.

Milk Party and After Care

I'm sure you've all heard of the One Gallon Challenge - try to drink one gallon of milk in one hour. It started off as trying to do it without puking, but as everyone found out, that was impossible so it changed to drink the gallon even though you were puking.

When I was 14 I went to a Milk Party - as we called them - and like so many, I brought my own gallon jug of milk. It took place at a large group shelter in a nature park near our condo complex and started out with a party atmosphere. Everyone was laughing and joking, challenging each other, listening to tunes on someone's battery powered CD player. There was about a 50/50 division between drinkers and watchers. But as the first half hour stretched out, the enthusiasm of some of us drinkers waned. We all started to feel sick.

For me, I started to feel the beginning of the end after half an hour. I'd got through about 1/3 of my gallon and I knew I wasn't going to make it - my stomach hurt from the cold of the milk and I was feeling quite nauseous. When the boy sitting beside me went from smiling and joking, to quiet and withdrawn, to pale and sick, and then to vomiting all of the milk he'd drank in three long violent heaves, I knew I had to get some space between me and the others.

I took my milk and walked to a picnic table under some trees away from everyone else and sat on the table with my feet on one of the benches and waited for my first heave. I was sitting there alone when another girl found me. She was a non-drinker named Stacey - a cute emo looking kind of girl with a blue streak through her shoulder length hair. She was in a few of my classes at school and we talked once in awhile, but weren't really friends. Rumour had it that she was bi which I thought was cool and mature.

“Hey, 'T__'.” Stacey said as she sat down beside me, “How you doing?”

“The shits.” I said and forced a smile.

“You know what I do when I have to endure something?” she asked, and the word 'endure' really jumped out at me, “I try to make it sexy.”

I laughed then regretted it as my tummy churned. I started shivering.

Stacey put her arm around my shoulders and hugged me to her.

“I'm serious, 'T__'. Have you ever seen a boy cum?”

“Yeah.”

“His cock just gushes his cum out, right. That's kind of like puking. So think of this as a way of cumming with your whole body.”

I looked at her and I have to admit I felt a little tug deep in my sex thinking about what she said. Plus she was cute and I wondered if she really was bi and if this was her way of getting close to me.

“And if you're going to do something, go at 'er. Don't pussy around.” she laughed, “So drink up, 'T__'.”

I thought about it and smiled.

“I'll go at 'er.” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt. Then I uncapped my milk and took a few sips, my belly protesting as I force swallowed them.

“Come on, girlfriend, chug it.” Stacey said.

So I did. I upended the jug and powered down milk until the coldness took my breath away. When I lowered and capped it, my stomach was hurting worse and I felt so full. I tried to burp but I only felt liquid rising so I stopped. That's when I started feeling this weird tingling all around the edges of my belly and up my throat and my mouth started watering bad.

“Oh fuck, I'm going to puke.” I groaned and set my jug down stepping down off the picnic table. Stacey got up and kept close to me as I paced around on the grass, squatted, stood up, bent over with my hands on my knees, unable to shake the tingling around my belly and the drool filling my mouth. As I was bent over spitting, Stacey leaned over beside me with her hand on my back.

“Just let it go, 'T__'.” she said encouraging.

I felt my stomach roll inside me and gagged. Then I dry heaved once, twice, and a third time. Drool was dripping out of my open mouth. I was feeling faint when my stomach convulsed and the milk just roared up my throat and I projectile vomited one long rope of milk.

I could hear other kids calling out that I was puking 'hard core' and heard some of them come near, kind of cheering me on.

I coughed and choked, very aware of Stacey rubbing my back and making soothing sounds. Then I puked again and felt my stomach empty - and oh lord what a relief.

Stacey leaned down and whispered in my ear; “Go for it all.” she urged and I could hear the excitement in her voice. As I rose up I could see a small group had gathered to watch and the excitement in Stacey's voice overcame my better sense. I picked up my jug and pulled the cap off, throwing it away. I upended the still half full jug and chugged it as long as I could.

“Yeah, girl!” Stacey squealed and hugged me, jostling me a bit. I burped and my mouth filled with milk. I spit it out and started chugging again. I felt wild and crazy and exhilarated by this crazy stunt.

I got down almost all of the milk before I felt my stomach growl.

“Oh fuck.” I gasped and kind of gurgled as I felt my stomach roll again. But the kids around me were chanting, “Chug-chug-chug-chug.” So I did, forcing down the last of the gallon, happy to be the popular girl for one brief moment. I tossed the jug over my shoulder and started pacing again, feeling my stomach gurgling and cramping. It was also really starting to hurt again because of the cold milk in me.

Stacey was watching my face and she looked concerned. She drew close to me as the other kids were laughing and joking about when I would hurl.

“You look really pale, hon.” Stacey said, laying a hand on my back. And I was feeling pale and weak and dizzy and I reached out and gripped a handful of Stacey's jacket.

I stood there feeling all manner of things going on inside me - the whole belly/throat tingling and drooling was back and< my stomach was doing this quivery kind of roll. I was shivering and feeling sicker than I ever had in my life. Stacey reached up and held onto my arm to steady me as I kept my grip on her jacket. I forced my tummy to relax, closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable. It only took a few seconds.

It was like a volcano erupting inside me - as though way too much milk was trying to all come up at once. I thought about that total body ejaculation Stacey hinted at and up it came. I puked hard and it roped out of my mouth and nose and shot about six feet in front of me. It made my knees weak and for a second I thought I was going to pee my pants. I heard someone yell “Brutal!” and people were laughing.

For the next few minutes I lowered my head and heaved as my stomach emptied. I blew my nose in my hand and discovered that I was crying - not loud, but my eyes were blurred with tears and I could feel that chin quiver thing going on. But it was such a relief to be rid of that milk that I just stood there with my head down gasping for air. The other kids were making jokes and offering me more milk.

Stacey must have seen I was crying and feeling really shaky, because she told the other kids to fuck off and leave me alone. They did wander away with some comments directed at Stacey who led me back to the picnic table and sat me down, wiping my face and nose then sitting beside me and hugging me tight, laying my head on her shoulder and stroking my hair.

“Just relax now, 'T__'.” she spoke so softly and kindly to me as she held me, “It's all over. Shhhhh.” And I felt so good as she held me and comforted me. She reached up and wiped the tears off my cheeks.

That was my first experience with the joy of puking and losing control of my body - two themes that show up in my stories. Plus it was the first time I experienced what I later learned was called 'after care' and is a standard comedown technique of intense BDSM sessions.

Stacey and I shared another mind-blowing experience a few years later, but that wasn't a Little Kink so it deserves its own story.