Archive | May, 2010

Endings

31 May

It’s not that the playtime wasn’t great – you know that it was. You read about it, you heard it all.  Even last night, even after we’d agreed that there wouldn’t be more playtime, when we played one last time – o, my.  That wasn’t a problem.

After days of teasing me about not spanking me again, He turned me over his knee and spanked me til my ass was warm and red.  And that made Him hard, as it always does, so i knelt at His feet one more time.  i worshipped His cock the way that pleases Him most, the way He taught me months ago.

Hover, breathe through my mouth, close, lick, go down slowly, one half inch at a time, bury it, then back up, slowly and methodically, and remove.

 That’s from an email i wrote Him, about 3 months ago, when we had first started playing.  i can’t believe it’s only been 3 months…  i’ll have enough to write about for a long time just remembering the things i experienced with Him.
 
But i want to be with someone who’d like to spend time with me outside of playtime.  Maybe that’s uneasonable.  i might be asking too much – seriously.  But i can’t seem to be submissive strictly in play, there’s an element of attachment that creeps in.  And one of the first things He told me was not to get too attached.
 
But i don’t quite understand how i could open myself, literally, opening my legs at His command, and my mouth, without opening my heart and my spirit as well.  And then, damnit, i want more.  i want to go out for dinner.  i want to go hear some music.  i just want more intimacy than  an evening of playtime here and there.
 
Sigh. 
 
 i sucked His cock one last time, savoring the taste, the feel of it in my mouth.   Licking it all over, until it was slick and slippery, sliding my mouth up and down rhythmically.   Loving the little “pop” it makes as my mouth moves over the head.  Then licking again, moving my tongue all over His cock – and swiftly, smoothly burying it deep in my throat til i gag a little.    Moving again, bobbing my head…
 
He’s a gentleman, a caring person, a wonderful man, and He’s been so good to me.  i’ve felt his concern envelop me, and felt safe and cared for.   i’ll never settle for less.
 
i feel the vein in His cock throbbing under my tongue, “Do you want it?” He says, “Do you want my cum?” and all i can do is nod, yes, yes, i want it.  “Then suck it,” He says, “Suck it out,” and i do, sucking as the cum shoots into my mouth, then swallow and suck a little more.
 
“Don’t say good-bye,” He says, “we’ll still be friends, we’ll still talk and e-mail.  i’ll try out all my bad jokes on you.”
 
“i’ll groan!” i say.  “i have to groan at Your jokes.”  There are tears in my eyes, but i smile and blink them back. 
 

A chain clip he left behind - it had been under a chair and my housekeeper found it... :0

Pictures

29 May

i’ve been thinking about pictures since the other night, when i was bound so securely, when the chain between my legs was pressing hard against my clit, when He stood beside the bed and held His cock out for me to taste, and i could barely reach it, twisting on my side with my hands behind my back and… ok you get the picture.  

But i don’t – i don’t know what i look like chained.  

And maybe that’s ok too.   Maybe i just need to experience it and don’t need to see it.

i’ve been sure that i didn’t want pictures, for lots of reasons.   Sir and i have talked about it.  

After all, i really don’t want anyone to know about my sexual, um, activities.  He points out that the pictures wouldn’t have to show my face.  I concede, that’s true.  

Of course, at first i wouldn’t have trusted Him that much anyhow.   Not that i didn’t trust Him, but certainly not enough to take pictures of me engaging in sexual acts.  i didn’t want to be on the explaining end of a “what were you thinking????” conversation with friends or family.  i  figured that even if somehow people discovered the things i’d  been writing, i could explain it away, but a picture – not so easily.

“Do you have some kind of mark on your pussy that people will recognize?” Sir asked, and i had to laugh.  Of course not, mine is probably not distinguishable from countless others, and not that many people have seen it anyhow and really, no, of course not.  That’s not the problem.

“You don’t have to show your face you know,” He says.  But something about the idea of being a faceless body bothers me.   i am a feminist, you know, so how can i contribute to a world view of women chained and bound, gagged and whipped?  It just seems wrong.

But then i found this link on Discerning Dom’s website, and was looking at these pictures, and – i don’t know.  i like them.  I mean, look at this:

I can almost feel his hand pulling the panties down...

Or this one…

i can feel his hand coming down on her - my? - ass...

Or this one…

Notice her legs twisting - i know what that feels like...

(These all came from this wonderful websitehttp://red.charls.free.fr/galeries.php?theme=La%20Place%20Rouge)

So i’m torn.  i want pictures of my self, all exposed and turned on, ass in the air, marks and all.  

And i’m afraid that i’ll regret it.

Sir doesn’t put any pressure on me, and has offered to never ask me about it again, but i don’t want that either.  Sigh.  i want the impossible.  i want pictures of me without any risk.  i want pictures that will be admired and appreciated, but that won’t add to a world view of women as disempowered or objects of abuse.  It’s confusing.  For now, i guess i’ll just keep enjoying the experience, and other people’s pictures. 

The Belt

27 May

i’m in a panic that only a submissive could be in.   Please, don’t laugh, it’s not funny.

Sir is talking about not using the belt on me anymore.  Maybe not even spanking me.  This feels like a disaster. 

It’s all because – remember i told you about Him whacking me with the belt on my back and shoulders?  Well, it left two lovely marks, one on each shoulder.  You could really see the belt outline.   It was just a welt, and I’m not even sure that’s the right word for it, ”welt” sounds too serious.  It was more like a little indentation.  But it was still there the next morning, and there was even a trace left when i got home from work.

Well, that freaked Him out.   Ok, maybe not “freaked Him out.”  It concerned Him.  And i appreciate that – i truly do.   i love that He doesn’t want to harm me.

But, when He started talking about maybe it would be better not to use the belt, or even His hand – well, that freaked me out.  Or at least concerned me.   i love when He spanks me.  Love it.  Love His hand.  Love hand marks on my ass.   Love the belt.  Totally, totally don’t want Him to stop.  Feel bereft when i think about it.  In a panic.

But.  Here’s the thing.  I know – totally know – that it doesn’t make any difference how i feel about it; He’s going to do whatever He thinks is the right thing to do.  O, He’ll listen to me, and He’ll take my feelings into consideration.  But, particularly with this issue, i know He’ll do whatever He thinks is right.

And – here’s the best part – THAT turns me on more than just about anything.  It makes me respect Him, and trust Him and feel safe with Him.  Not because He might not spank me – no, it’s because He’ll do what He believes in. 

You know it turns me on when He says, “But it’s not about what you want.”  Well, this is just another example of the same principle, only instead of it being about more discomfort, it’s about less.  (Does that make sense?)  It still makes me wet.  

It makes me want to serve Him more, please Him more, satisfy Him more…  Sigh.  So no matter how much i really, really, really, really want Him to continue spankings, i’ll accept whatever He decides.  

Of course, i also have this little fantasy that maybe the discussion is partly about making me recognize how much i want what He does with His belt and His hands.    i mean, i would beg.  Even now, i’m trying to maintain some pride, but yea, i’d beg.  For the belt.   In a heartbeat.  And begging for it would turn me on more! 

So there’s no point in thinking about it;  i’ll just have to wait and see.   And isn’t that a form of submission too?  Yes.  And submitting makes me…?  Mmmhmm.  Hot.  Wet.  Turned on.   It makes me want to kneel in front of Him and take His cock in my mouth and… but you know how that story goes.  

Sunday Pleasure II

27 May

“Four,” i said, in my small voice.

“How many?”

“Four, please, Sir?” i said, not sure if he meant i needed to talk louder or if that was the wrong answer.   Bent face-down over the arm of the couch, my wrists in restraints that attached to the collar around my neck, ass in the air, i was glad He had left my jeans on.

“Four,” He said.

“Yes, Sir.”

The belt whistled and landed across the middle of my ass, stinging, reaching across both cheeks.  I gasped.  The second strike was lower, hitting near my thighs and a grunt escaped me.  “How many is that?” He asked.

“Two, Sir, that’s two, Sir, thank You.”

Whoosh – another one landed about halfway between the first two.    Another noise escaped me.  He stroked my ass.  “Open,” He said, and i spread my legs further apart.  “Where do you want the next one?” He asked.

“Where?” i asked.  You might think He would get impatient with me echoing every question, but He just said, “Yes, where?  Here?”  rubbing my ass near my thighs.  “Higher?  Lower?”

“O, higher, please, Sir,” i said. 

“Here?” he asked, rubbing my ass higher than the first stroke.

“Yes, yes Sir,” i say, and the belt comes down where he had marked with his hand, and i breathe a sigh of relief.  But –

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easy,” He says, and my chemise is roughly pulled up, exposing my back and shoulders, and four quick whacks with the belt mark me.   I whimper. 

“Now stand up,” He says.  i do, with help, and he pulls down my jeans (no easy feat) and my panties.  Leaving them around my ankles, he says, “Bend over,” and gently pushes me back down.  His fingers probe the wetness between my legs, i move my hips, press back, impaling my self deeper.  So quickly – omg, i am so hot, so ready, so quickly He takes me up – up – and over into pleasure.  i shudder, and sigh with contentment.

“Don’t move,” He says.

i don’t, even when i hear the refrigerator door open.  The refrigerator?

O, my. 

Yes.  Ice.  Ice cooling the heat between my legs, only to make me hotter.  The heat between my legs melting the ice, which is replaced by His tongue… O, my.   And all the while i’m bent helpless over the couch, exposed and vunerable, not even my hands free. 

And then – again – and again – His fingers penetrate me, take me higher and up – over the top – moaning and whimpering – and back down again.    O.  My.  God.

And there was more after that!  Even after the belt, and after the ice, and i’m kneeling again,where i love to be, there were nipple  clamps and His voice praising, and His cock in my mouth and wanting so much to please Him… until at last we were both done, sated, finished, and i rested my head on his knee and he stroked my hair and i was content.

Sigh.  What a wonderful night. 

Aren't they great shoes?

Sunday Pleasure

24 May

i wouldn’t let myself call Him tonight, not wanting to sound more needy than necessary, but i shaved and prepped as if i thought He were coming over.   i was beginning to think i’d jinxed myself, when the phone rang, about 7:00.   It was Him, and He did come over, so i was glad i’d prepped and didn’t have to totally race around at the last minute.

i had a hard time deciding what to wear though.  He hasn’t directly said so, but it seems like He prefers for me to have something on when He first gets here.  So finally, i settled on black bikini panties with lace, my really tight blue jeans, my black bra, and a black chemise.  Of course, i wore one of my pairs of black cfm’s, which He bought me.  That’s a story i’ll have to tell some other time, the story of the shoes.

Anyhow, He brought the red toolbox, which you know makes my heart beat faster just looking at it.  

Things he took out of the toolbox:  leather restraints.  chain clips.  nipple clamps. 

“Wrists,” He said.   i was already kneeling in front of  Him, and i held them out for him to buckle the restraints on.  He was careful to make them snug, but not uncomfortable.   Then He fastened the ankle restraints together and buckled it around my neck, creating a leather collar.   That gave him two rings on the collar to attach things to – and he wasted no time attaching my wrist restraints to the collar with a couple of chain clips. 

“Now,” He said.  “Let’s see if you can suck My cock without your hands.”

Well, of course i could, and i did, with pleasure, until He stopped me.  Reluctantly, i pulled my mouth away from Him.

“Watch,” He said.

He took his belt off  – slowly this time.  Taken off slowly, the belt still hisses,  not in a flash that’s over quickly, but with a soft, ominous hiss that held my attention.    I had good reason to pay attention.

“Stand,”  He said.  i had still  been kneeling in front of Him, watching him remove the belt, but i got to my feet.  He helped me up since my hands being fastened to the collar threw my balance off. 

He directed me to stand beside the arm of the couch.  “Bend over,” He said.   Ominous words, they make my pussy tingle.  

i managed to bend over the arm, resting my head on the seat of the couch, my ass raised, positioned to be an easy target for the belt. 

“How many?” He asked. 

That question always makes me panic, even though i should know it’s coming, i’m never ready for it and i don’t know what to say. 

********

i have to stop now… time to get ready for work.  i took a picture this morning of my cfm shoes to post with this, but the battery on my camera is almost dead so i can’t upload them yet.  i’ll get some batteries on my way home and do it then. 

For now, i’ll have to leave myself bent over the arm of the couch, ass poised for the sting of  His belt…

Held

23 May

Chained, restrained, held. 

i don’t know why being chained felt so good.   i felt like i was being held in some powerful way – and safe.  i liked it so much. The collar, which was really a dog’s collar with a velcro fastening, felt – good.   i don’t know how else to say it, it all felt good.

 i might think that was strange if i hadn’t been reading so many blogs by other people, which make it clear that nothing i’m experiencing is all that different or unique.   Which is kind of humbling all by itself, humbling and reassuring at the same time.

i felt held yesterday too, when i was out of sorts and blue, a little overwhelmed with stress.  i decided to take a day off and sleep and read and not go anywhere – in fact, i didn’t even get dressed, just hung out in my sleep t-shirt and comfy stretch pants.  Sir had to work yesterday, but He spent a lot of time with me, IM’ing me, talking on the phone, sending me some e-mail with jokes or a link to an article He thought i might be interested in.  

At some point, when we were talking on the phone, and i was sitting in the chair He usually sits in when i get to kneel in front of Him and suck His cock, and i was sort of curled into the chair, and He was talking about a conversation he had with someone  at the hobby shop, at that moment, i realized that i felt “held.”   Wrapped in Him.    And it felt so good, i wanted to tell Him, but i didn’t think i could find the right words then.  So i just enjoyed the feeling, and stored it away for later.

As i know Him better, i more deeply appreciate the man He is.  He feels so solid and trustworthy, i want to lean on Him a little.  i won’t though, not in a vanilla way, not when He’s told me clearly that He doesn’t intend to get emotionally invovled with me.   And i don’t believe in leaning anyhow.

But i will enjoy and appreciate His friendship.

And i’ll enjoy being chained, bound and held, when He chooses to do that.  It makes me smile to think about it.  Knowing that all i have to do is whatever He tells me to do.   And that feeling – the way He makes me feel – makes me want to please Him so much that i’m overwhelmed with it.

Sigh.

Yesterday i was commenting on how long it’s been since i’ve actually been with Him – over a week!  He, however, apparently doesn’t think that’s very long, and he mentioned the word “needy.”  Yes, describing me!  Now, i will occasionally admit that i might be high maintanence.  Possibly demanding.  But needy?

Sigh.

Maybe needy. 

But you would think He’d be glad that i’m here eagerly waiting for the pleasure of pleasing Him, wouldn’t you?  Even if, ok, sure, it pleases me too.  The thought of kneeling at His feet stirs such longing in me… i think it surprises Him that i feel that way, but i do.  i can feel myself getting wet just thinking about it, it makes me squirm.

And i guess it makes sense that i love the feeling of being collared, of being chained.  Yes, it takes me down so many notches, and i love being taken down.  i love how it feels when all that exists is my body and Him, the sensations almost without thought.  When all my focus is where He wants it to be.  When doing what He wants is all that matters…

More Playtime Thursday

20 May

i lay on the bed, on my stomach first, like He said.  “Go to your bedroom, strip to your panties and prepare for the belt.”

“Prepare for the belt?” i said, and i think my voice trembled.

He was patient, “Yes, strip to your panties and lie face down on the bed,” so i did, and i heard the belt, heard it hiss as he took it off, heard it whistle, heard it smack against my ass, and felt the sting.  Remembering now, i feel that clench at the center of my pussy, a spasm of pleasure.

Leather restraints on my wrists and ankles, buckled on, i can’t describe the feeling.  i can’t.  Sir.  Feeling helpless and safe at the same time, feeling held.  Restrained – yes ,of course restrained, even before He attached my wrists together behind my back.   Even before the collar.

The collar – He tried three before he settled on one, a collar that buckled around my neck, that had a hook, I think, it must have had because the chain also ran from the collar to my waist.  No, not a hook, it can’t be a hook – what do you call it? an eylet maybe?  No – a ring.  A collar with a ring that you can attach other things to, or attach to other things.   Attached to a chain, attached to my waist… 

The chain that ran between my legs over the dildo filling my pussy, over my clit, pressing against it, between the cheeks of my ass, attaching again at the waist, tight enough to know it’s there but not to hurt.  Restrained.  Chained.  Held. 

 Sir.  He places his belt over my eyes.  Not blindfolded, not helpless and blindfolded, i could have shaken it off, but i wouldn’t, His belt, laid over my eyes like a suggestion.   O, yes, Sir.

i want to know how i look, so securely bound, with my wrists behind my back, the chains around me, dildo filling me, His belt laid across my eyes. 

But i have said ‘no pictures,’ i said it was a hard boundary.  And it is.  But i want to know what i look like.  Sigh. 

i feel beautiful.  Chained. Restrained.  Held. 

Playtime Thursday

18 May

Last Thursday night, i was hoping that Sir would come over after He got off  work, but i wasn’t a bit sure that he would.  Some people from work were going out for drinks and wanted me to join them – i told them i had tentative plans but i’d come if my plans fell through. By 7:00, i was pretty sure He wasn’t going to come over, but i decided to call Him and make sure there wasn’t any hope before i gave up and went out.  

So i probably wasn’t in quite the right head space when i called him.   i don’t even remember exactly what He said, or what i said.  What i remember is him demanding to know if i wanted His cock or not, and if i did, why wasn’t i telling him how much i wanted it, like i usually do?  Why was He having to ask me questions?  And really, i could barely think or talk and i could hear myself saying “Yes, Sir” and “No, Sir” in this little bitty voice and i felt ridiculous. 

And then He was talking about me complaining on my blog about not getting enough attention, and i was trying to explain that i really hadn’t been complaining and He said He wasn’t buying that.   And i felt all frazzled and worried.

BUT.  It was all worth it, because then  He said He hoped my pussy and my nipples were ready for some attention because He was coming over.  And i was delighted because, you know, they really were longing for attention!

And they got it. 

When He pulled up in front of the house, i was waiting at the door, so i saw right away that He had his red toolbox with him.  And i was half scared and half thrilled, and i was right to be both.

 
 

If you look closely, you can see the chain clips in the top...

He set the toolbox down in the bedroom, and began taking items out.  There were nipple clamps, and a chain.  i already know the chain well. 

As you might guess, the chain wraps around my waist, then runs down between my legs and gets pulled up to hook on the part around my waist.  It presses tight against my pussy, and between the cheeks of my ass.  When He had used it before, He  proclaimed it the perfect length, and promised to put it aside to use again.  Now here it was.

With the nipple clamps.  Which He’d only really used once before on me.  Yikes. 

He was still taking items out of the toolbox, slowly and deliberately.  And – o, my, is that supposed to go inside me?

to be continued…

All about Him

13 May

It was pointed out to me last night – and rightfully so – that our time together is always all about Him, the only question is whether or not it pleases Him to torture my nipples or pussy on any given day.  It’s not about what i want.

Typing that makes me squirm, yes, it makes me wet too.  It is about what He wants, and being reminded of that always makes me incredibly hot.

And what is that about?  Why does that stimulate and arouse me so far beyond what vanilla sex does ?   And with so much less effort?  i mean, really.  He says, “It’s not about what you want,” and i’m dripping.  Ok, because i’m submissive, i get that.   (and yes, saying that makes me hot and wet too.)   But how does that work???

 i guess it doesn’t matter that i don’t understand it.  I guess it’s enough that i recognize it and that i’m getting to express it.   Although i hope this blog will eventually help me understand what this is about. 

11 May

Last night, after reading my latest post, Sir sent me this quote from a blog post by Discerning Dom: 

“Submissive girls are so impatient, and I like to teach them to wait. And wait. You can drive them crazy sometimes.”
He made me read it aloud to him.  i was laughing at first, just because it was so true, but of course He corrected me, and i had to read it without laughing.  Which was easy to do once He used ‘that’ tone of voice – you know, the one that immediately ‘takes me down a notch,’ as He says. 
 
So Sunday night, He did come over, and i was allowed to please Him with my mouth, which was a privilege as always.   i do love that, more than i can say.  i just recently discovered that other people think of it as “cock worship” also, which is very cool, cause that’s definitely what it is.
 
But it was all about Him that night, and so my nipples and my pussy are still longing for His touch.  Not that i’m complaining, i’m not.  i’m just waiting.
 
But you know how impatient us submissive girls can be!