The Power of His “I Want”

“I want you to cum for me tonight.”  His voice is silk.  “Can you do that?”

O.  Yes.

{blush}

 “Can you do that for Me?”

“Yes,  Sir.  i can do that for You.”

{smiles}

 

 

 

 

Thank You, Sir!

Other People’s Blogs

Today, i spend most of the afternoon lost in tales of threesomes, orgasms, and ass fucking.  Blindfolded women bring each other to orgasm, their Sir watches and orchestrates them to explode together.  Waitresses wear remote controlled vibrators and diners slip away into their own kinky head space.   Whew!

Orgasms in cars, and orgasms because of other people’s orgasms in cars; riding crops and a handsome male ass exposed.  Phone calls and hitachis, a pussy so well satisfied another orgasm is almost too much.  

Nipple clamps – the story of clover clamps and a chain – pain and pleasure,  power and submission blend and merge.   A submissive able to take all He brings and beg for more.   A master able to take what she offers and double the ante.  OMG.

Dinners shared – and eaten from the floor.  A long time fantasy of  mine too – i sit on the floor by His chair.  He  feeds me, allows me to alternate bites of food and a sip of wine with tasting His cock and pleasuring Him.   Mmmmmm.

 i don’t know if i’d really like it or not, but it’s an incredibly hot fantasy. Reading about it is sheer pleasure.

i discover a new blog – well, new to me – with a lovely  spanking scene – a college professor, a spoiled student,  and a poorly written essay lead to a chastened young lady with a wet pussy and a throughly  punished ass.  Classic.   i squirmed all the way through it.   A basic spanking is truly so hot. 

Although, that’s easier to say when i haven’t been spanked for a while.  And that could change so easily. 

As Sir D pointed out today, when we were talking about what might happen if He came to visit without His toy bag – He said,  “It wouldn’t matter – that’s what yardsticks are for.”    A rush of heat runs through me at the idea.  The yardstick is in the corner of my bedroom, waiting.   my pussy throbs thinking about it.  Mmmmmpf.

All that, until finally, i am grateful that i’m not on orgasm restriction today ~ although  sorry that  Sir D won’t be here tomorrow.    But still, it’s nice to be able to slip my fingers into the hot folds between my legs, dip into the moisture puddling there and begin to caress the silky folds…  tweak my nipple with a thumb, ahhh, yes – and sooo quickly – as i read another tale – mmmm – tighter, my ass lifts, mmmm, a little faster, tingly, yessss – oh, yes, up – up – pausing at the top –  and over tumbling down,  whooooo, yes.  

Almost just like  a roller coaster.   Aaaah.  So nice to feel all relaxed.  Tension free.  Mmmmm.

So this post is for you – my fellow bloggers.   Thank you so much.  You all made me soooo hot today.   i can’t tell you how much i enjoy the sexy, sensual, slutty ways your minds work.  The twists of words and phrases that turn me on.   i appreciate your willingness to put your naked selves out there – whether it’s pictures or words or both, whether you do it because you want to or because you’re required  (thank you, Mick!)

i write for myself first, to please myself, and then for Sir.  And that’s good all by itself.  But getting to know you all is the icing on the cake. 

Thank you

Interlude – Sunday Morning

i love making love to His cock, and Sunday morning, He let me do that.  It was not just a nice blow job.  i could feel Him allowing me to serve His cock.  

My heart beats faster, remembering the taste and the feel of His cock on my tongue, filling my mouth.  Relaxing my throat to let it slide as deep as i can.  O. Yes.  i like that so much – all of it.  Taking my time and just pleasuring Him for a long time before i get serious about taking him up and over, before i settle into the rhythm that will end with Him shooting His cum into my mouth.

And i think i learned more about how to do that this weekend too.  i’m so glad.  i do want to please Him, and it’s easier and more fun when i know how.

i don’t think He knows how much it turns me on to suck His cock.  Especially the way it was before He left Sunday morning.  It makes me so wet.  Leaves me swimming in my own juices.

And it moves me into a particular kind of subspace.   i think i’m still half there as i write this.  As if my self is open – 

– and maybe open because of it all – the rope dress, the fire play, and worshipping His cock.  Fingertips too receptive, skin too sensitive, mouth and pussy yearning for more…

Sigh.

i need to shut it down, shut myself down.  Detach.

Instead, i move through the day slowly, overly aware of my sensations.   Panties rubbing against my swollen lips, moisture pooled so the fabric slides, caresses.

Sigh.

i think i need to satisfy myself, to touch and caress myself til i’m rising, building – up – over the top and down again.    And i can’t seem to initiate.  As if my energy is all receptive – all turned toward Him.

Damn it.

 

A Quote…

This is the day!  First, i’ll see Sir, which is exciting all by itself.  Then, i think, i may get to have an orgasm.  Or two.  Hot, steamy sex – my  pussy sending out waves of heat and a musky scent that mingles with His and…

Yes.  You get the picture.  But there are many things that have to happen first.  i have vanilla obligations starting at 7 o’clock this lovely Saturday morning and running til 11:30ish. 

Then i have to finish getting ready to go, which will likely involve razors and lotions, some last minute packing, and cleaning the garbage out of my car.   It would have been nice if i’d done more yesterday.  But i didn’t.  Being a perfectionist, i’ve also learned to be a procrastinator.  Makes it easier to settle for “good enough.”

All of which is to say, i don’t actually have time to blog today.   And if i did, it wouldn’t be about those things i’m not thinking about either – cocks filling my mouth, spanking benches and quirts, vibrators and tumbling over the top in an earth shattering orgasm – cause my pussy is already tingling and throbbing, more than ready for the day. 

So i’m sharing a quote instead, from Anais Nin  i read one of her books – maybe a volume of her Diary – in my youth, about the same time i was reading Story of O.   At the time, Anais also confused and aroused me.  Her story was so clearly true, much more so than Story of O.

i tried to find a picture of the book as i remember it, but that edition must be out of print.  

i still remember one scene – i guess i’m remembering this right – it’s been over 40 years ago.  She’s with her lover, who’s an artist, and apparently some of his friends.  She’s sitting on the bed.  He has her raise her skirt and he shaves her pussy.  With a straight edge razor.  It was so arousing.  Like reading one of our blogs, only published.   In a book.  A long time ago.   

Arousing and confusing, did i mention confusing?  

Anyhow.   i ran across some quotes from her recently and was amazed.  i’ve shared some of them on my vanilla social networking site, but think this one is too edgy to put there.  So i leave you with this today. 

She writes:

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”
— Anaïs Nin

 

i’m Not…

i’m not reading anyone else’s blogs today.  No steamy, passionate encounters between Mick and Molly, or Sin and her Sir.  No stories from Nilla about cocks and cunts…  i don’t even want to read about Brooke’s NY adventures – well, i do, but not today.

i’m not writing anything that will make me hot today.  No tales that lead to shivers and a wet pussy.  Nothing in anticipation of  Sir D and His dungeon, or the activities for the weekend.  Not a word about tortured nipples or Hitachis.

And i’m not even thinking about spanking.   No way.   Not remembering the slap of His hand against my ass, the feel of Him stroking me inbetween smacks.  The sting of the yardstick, – ohhh – leaving me soooo wet and hot and pleased with my bright red ass.  No. i’m not going to torture myself that way…

…when i know i can’t touch myself, can’t cum, and i’ve got a whole ‘nother day to go before i see Him.   When i already woke up hot and wet,my pussy just begging to be touched.  When  just knowing i can’t do anything about it totally makes me not able to think about anything else.

i did e-mail Him yesterday, just to be sure i had the rule right.  Cause how stupid would i feel if i thought i was on orgasm restriction and i really wasn’t?  Exactly.  Pretty stupid.

Unfortunately, i was right.  It is always 2 days.   He said, “We’re both intelligent people.  I shouldn’t have to repeat myself all the time.”

Yes, Sir.

And just hearing that – knowing the rule is there, and that i please Him when i obey His rule, sends shivers through my body and makes my hot, wet pussy throb.  So much for all my “i’m not’s…”

************************************************************

On a whole different note – Mick pointed out that i had made a comment about getting a yardstick at The Fair on my vanilla social networking site.  That garnered an amazing number of comments on the site, which amused me a lot. 

But yesterday, while i was at work, eating lunch in our staff kitchen,  one of the younger women said, laughing, “Oh, and I loved all that stuff you had about the yardstick!  That was great!”  and for a second all i could think was “OMG – she read my blog???!!!  Yikes!” 

Then i remembered – no, she’s talking about the vanilla site, and i started breathing again.  At least i guess she was…

    

Not Ordinary

 “To think of him in the middle of the day lifts me out of ordinary living.”
— Anaïs Nin (The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1)

i am at lunch, eating in my office today, trying to catch up on paperwork.   Suddenly, i remember the feel of His hand on my nipple.  The left nipple, crushed between His thumb and forefinger.  Instantly, the memory tugs on the line that runs directly from my nipple to my pussy, and i feel heat between my legs.

i’m lying on the bed, on my stomach, stinging blows from the famous yardstick landing on my ass.  He’s careful to strike the “sit spot” more than once. 

Shifting from memory into fantasy, i’m on the spanking bench in His dungeon. 

Remember the spanking bench?

 Blindfolded again.  Ass raised a little, exposed and vulnerable.  “What is this?” He asks; i hear something whistle slightly, it lands with a sharp sting.  “O!”

“i don’t know,” i say, “i don’t know that one!”

“Yes, you do,” He says.   “Here, let’s try it again,” and He does – “O!” but-

“i don’t!  i don’t know that one.”

“Ok.  It’s the quirt,” He says.  “Quirt.  Say it.” 

And i do, even though the word doesn’t want to leave my lips, i say it.  “Quirt.”

and He says, “Good.  How many?”

“i don’t know!”  

He rubs my ass, caresses it, “Breathe,” He says, “Uh huh, that’s it, good girl.  Breathe.”  And when my breathing has calmed, He says, “Ok.  Now.”  Patiently,  “How many do you think it’ll take for you to be able to recognize the quirt next time?”

A huge wave of pleasure runs through me, sitting there in my office, in front of my computer.   Am i going to have to – you know, take care of myself?  Right here?

Back on the spanking bench –

“Five,” i say, reluctantly.  “Five, Sir, please.”

And He is still stroking my ass, and then He isn’t and – “Oh!!  One.  The Quirt, Sir,” i say.   Five times i feel the sting and say it,

“Two.  The Quirt, Sir.”  

“Three.  The Quirt, Sir.”

i’m getting wetter, squirming in my chair.  Fast forwarding the fantasy a little. 

“Good girl.”  He says.  “Do you think you’ll recognize the quirt next time I ask you?” 

“Yes, sir, i’m sure i will,” i say.  my ass is hot, i can feel the heat, and my pussy is soooo wet and hot.  The spanking bench is wet with my juices, i want to rub against it.   Press my clit against it til i cum.

“Do you want the Hitachi now?” He asks.  “Or should we try one more recognition task?”

i smile a little, “Well, of course i want the Hitachi, Sir,” i say.  “But if it would please You to try another one, then of course i want to do that.”

“Good girl,” He says.   Another shiver runs through me.  “Let me think.  Let’s -”

My phone rings.  What?  Someone at the front desk, the receptionist not sure what to tell them, can i come up there?  Sure, yes, sure, on my way…

And i park the fantasy, not sure what He’s going to decide.  Is the Hitachi waiting for me, or the paddle?  Only time will tell…

************************************************************

Yes, this is similar to nilla’s post the other day, with my own twists.  i was amazed that she’d given words to a scenario very similar to a fantasy of my own – one i’d had since long before i even knew what anything other than a hand  felt like on my ass.   More of what Mick calls Smut-ergy.

As you can see, i’m apparently over my subdrop.  Sir D was very sweet yesterday, i got a text message while i was still at work, an e-mail when i got home, and then we talked last night.  i also have adventures to look forward to.  Have i mentioned that my Sir is very sweet?  <smiles>

And i just realized – having gotten myself all stirred up writing this post – that if i’m going to see Him on Saturday, then today is two days before Saturday.  Just last weekend,  i agreed that two days is not too long to go without an orgasm before i see Him.   What was i thinking?  That was a lot easier to say when i’d just had a multitude of orgasms.

Thank goodness, i took care of myself last night. 

 

Yes, today!

i wake up this morning immediately aware of my pussy throbbing and aching for attention.  i wonder, can i cum without even actually touching myself?  If i did, would i be in trouble?   Really, it wouldn’t be my fault, would it? 

Not that Sir is big on punishment, at least He says not.  i don’t have reason to know.  Yet. 

Another shiver runs through me, my pussy clenches.    

i refocus my attention.  As best i can.

i went to The Fair yesterday.  i got the yardstick. 

i got it early, cause they said they run out every day (who’dda thought it?) and i texted Him to let Him know i had it.  He texted back “Smiles~~~~” so that was nice. 

i carried it around with me all day  – even though i actually had to go to my sister’s car once and could have left it – with barely a comment from my sister or daughter.   If they thought it was odd, they just let it go.  One of the many reasons i love them!

As i carried it, i occasionally  almost hit someone with it, or felt it slap against my bare leg – and yes, i thought of Him.   Often.

This morning, i woke up wanting so badly, i could rub against the  furniture.   But i’m not allowed to cum yet. 

So i won’t.  Won’t touch myself either. 

i shudder as i think that.  Getting wetter, hotter. 

The yardstick makes a little “wffff” sound when i swing it.  That turns me on too.  i imagine it landing on my ass, and tingle all over.   O, my. 

He could even choose not to use it today –

and my pussy gets wetter as i think that.

It’s the control, that’s what does it.   His control over  me turns me on so much – and i have the yardstick to prove it.

Just One More Day…

When i see that’s He’s online – not even by His picture, just the little yellowish-orange circle filled in – it turns me on.  My pussy sits up and pays attention, so to speak.  Just a little throb, a little warmth, as if to say, “Get ready… here He comes.” 

And that’s just for IM’s.  Whew.

Not today, but tomorrow, He’ll be here.  So of course, i’m half turned on all the time at this point.   And not allowed to make myself cum.   Sir is clear about that – no orgasms two days before.  Which is not unreasonable, it keeps me nicely on edge.  But you already know it makes me squirm too.

And it spirals, the more i write about it, think about it, the worse it gets.  And then there’s the yardstick thing, which is today, and…  STOP!  i need to stop this now.

Ok.  Maybe  a fantasy will help get my mind off it.

He said He would have me kneel. 

He said He would make me beg.  

i don’t think i’ve ever really begged.  i don’t even much like to ask.  i’m pretty sure asking for anything means i’m weak.  Which is way too scary.   i want to give, not to need.  

O, that’s not a fantasy.  Let me back up and try again.

i am kneeling.  He is in front of me, His cock in His hand, watching me.   i watch His hand, watch Him grow harder.   Lick my lips just the teeniest bit.  i don’t want to look impatient; i will wait.   

“What do you want?”  He says.  “Tell me.”

i hesitate, it’s hard to say the words.  He waits.

“i want to taste You, Sir,” i finally say.  He waits.  i shift a little, rocking back on my knees, lick my lips.

“Open your legs,” He says, “Wider.” 

i adjust my posture, spread my knees wider so He can see my pussy, freshly shaven, glistening wet.   It throbs, responding to His command.  i pull my shoulders back a little, the black lace half-bra lifts my breasts, offers them, exposes the nipples.  My nipples are hard.  Longing to be touched.

i wait.

“You want to ‘taste me?'” He says, as if considering. 

“Yes, Sir.  Please.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” He says.  “Explain that a little more clearly, please.”

i shiver, a wave of heat rushes through me, i am ashamed and thrilled and aching – i need his touch, need to touch Him.  He watches me.

“i want – i want…” i want the words to come easily, like they do sometimes when i’m writing.  i want them to flow.  Instead, they stick at the edge of my lips.  i bite my lower lip, as if that will loosen them, set them free. 

He waits.

Finally, “i want to take You in my mouth,”  i say, and then, all in a rush, “i want to lick You, and suck You, and feel You grow hard in my mouth, Sir, i want You to cum in my mouth.  Please. Sir.”  And then i’ve run out of words.  i wait.  Pussy hot and  throbbing.  Nipples tingling.

He’s smiling.  “Me?” He says, teasing now.  “you want to take ‘me’ in your mouth – what do you mean?”

i force the words out – why is this so hard?  “Your cock, Sir.”  And feel better now that i’ve said it.  “i want to take Your cock in my mouth, Sir,” and gaining confidence, “And kiss it.  And lick it.  And suck it.”  He is still stroking His cock, but i think it gets harder as i’m talking.  It – He – the cock – can hear me.  i’m talking to Him now, watching Him, i say:

“i want to gently slide my teeth along You, not to hurt You, just so You can feel it – i want to lick You all the way from the base, up to the top, up to that tiny space, You know, right there…  i want to take the head in my mouth and lick around it, right under the rim.  i want to feel your vein throbbing, kiss and lick my way up and down it.  i want to take you all the way in my mouth…”

And the cock has gotten very hard –   now He is paying attention.   My pussy is throbbing, dripping, i can smell sex throughout the room, mine, his, the scents mingling.  There is a drop of precum on the cock, i lick my lips with purpose now, with promise.   And look up at Sir.

i smile, just a half smile.  “i’d like to taste Your cock, Sir.  Please.  If i may.” 

His cock is talking to Him now, i know it is.  “Come on,” it says, “Let her do it.  You’ve made her wait long enough.”  

**************************************************

And i’ll leave us there.  Whew.  i feel much better.  Ok, more turned on.  Dreadfully wet.  Would really, really like to touch myself til i cum. 

But at least i’m not obsessed with the yardstick anymore.  <smiles.> 

And tomorrow, He’ll be here.

 

Adventures

i’m going to visit Sir D. tomorrow.  It’s a fairly short trip in terms of the drive – about an hour and a half.  But it feels like crossing into a foreign country.

He has a dungeon in his basement. 

Really.

This is the only picture of a dungeon i could find.

Picture of a dungeon, by david shankbone

That was in Wikipedia.  Obviously, i don’t know what Sir D’s dungeon looks like.   I’m pretty sure the blonde won’t be in it.  <giggles>

You probably won’t be surprised to know that just thinking about it makes me – yes, wet.  And hot.  i don’t know if that’s just because i’m really such a newbie or if i’ll always be like this. 

i don’t think we’re going to do any kind of extreme play while i’m there.  Sir D is eminently safe and sane, and if i were afraid, i wouldn’t be going.  But not knowing what we’re going to do turns me on all by itself. 

i thought about that last night, when i couldn’t sleep.   Tried to imagine what it would feel like.  Imagined being aware of Him next to me.   Going down some stairs – He opens a door.  Will there be a wall like this? 

Dungeon Equipment

A while ago, He told me the things that He has in the dungeon.  i don’t remember all of them.  In fact, i don’t trust my memory.  A spanking bench?  A mirror?  Hooks for suspension?  It gives me chills to think about it. 

Fortunately, He hasn’t told me not to touch myself, cause while i’m lying there thinking about all this last night, i’m getting further and further away from sleep.

So i do the sensible thing.  i  begin to touch myself.  i’m already wet, and have been half-excited all day.  A moist finger rubbing my clit, o, that’s nice.  A spanking bench.  O, my.  Tingling between my legs, tensing my muscles.  Rubbing gently, taking the directest route, nothing fancy.  Looking for a straight path to the pleasure of release.   

Thinking about control and letting go.  Sir D’s voice, His hands, his mouth.  The memory of His body.  The mark on my right breast, still there,  faded to a pale yellow.   O, the tingle spreads down my legs, my ass raises slightly off the bed, hips thrusting into the air…  It didn’t take me any time at all to feel the relief –  over the top, and down again, shuddering  with pleasure. 

So, just one more day.  Tomorrow i go to visit Sir D.  i can’t wait…

*****************************************************************************************************

And on a whole different note, last night i got a comment from Mick, someone who saw my link on sin’s blog,  http://findingmysubmission.blogspot.com/ .   He liked my blog, and he left a comment, and you have no idea how much that thrills and delights me!   His blog is http://undercontracttomywife.blogspot.com/ and is on my blogroll too. 

I also have a new personal record for hits on my blog in one day – 41.  Having discovered that blogs like sin’s and mick’s get hundreds of hits every day, that may sound a little sad, but still.  It makes me really happy.  🙂

Lazy Sunday

There’s hardly anything i like more than taking a nap on Sunday afternoon.  This week, i expected it to be particularly pleasant.  i’d just gotten home from a two-day conference which had been wonderful and exhausting.    

i  unpack, give my cats fresh food and water, and slip out of my clothes.  Put on an extra-large t-shirt.    Set the kitchen timer for an hour, and lie down on the couch, which is my favorite place to nap. 

Almost immediately, i realize i’m too tense to sleep.  Hmmm.  i know how to solve this problem… i shift to lying on my back, put my feet flat on the couch, knees bent and raised.

It’s only four days since i’ve seen Him, and there’s still plenty of material for fantasy there.   First, i flip the mental pages of memories i’ve already shared here.  One hand rests between my legs, warming myself, the other strokes my left nipple.

i squirm a little.  My nipples can’t possibly still be sensitive 4 days later, but it feels like they are.  Barely touching them and they’re immediately hard, which makes me wet.  i gently stroke myself.  Feel my pussy throb.   

i’m distracted for a minute by thoughts of the workshop i’d attended, which was on reproductive health.  i find myself thinking about the inner and outer labia, bartholin glands, and the clit.  Did you know the clit has as many nerve endings in that tiny area as the entire penis?  i slip my finger inside myself just enough to get it wet, begin to lightly rub that ever so sensitive spot.  Mmmmm.    

When He was here, He had left a pile of – implements – on the dining room table.   Canes and a paddle and such.  He was in the shower when my attention was drawn to the pile, and when He comes out, i am standing by the table, just looking.  i move away from them.    

“Oh, you’re interested in my toys?” He says.  i make a little “mmmm” noise, still moving away from them, and He says, “No, come here, let’s look at them if you’re interested.”    

So i move back by the table, feeling a little awkward.  Lying on the top is – well, it is clearly a whip, which i don’t remember Him showing me the night before.    

    

Cat of nine tails. It was not as big as i might have thought it would be, but pretty intimidating anyhow.

“Were you looking at this?” He says, touching the braided strands.  i nod.  He picks it up.  “That’s a cat of nine tails,” He says.  “Do you know about them?”    

“i’ve, well, i’ve heard of them before , but i don’t know…” i say.    

“Well,” He lays it back on the table so the strands – the tails – are separated.  “This one’s made of braided leather, and you can see there are nine of them.”  i nod, and tentatively touch one, hold it between my thumb and finger.   i am aware of my breath, aware of Him.  i’m aroused and a little afraid.      

“The power,” He says, “What makes it different, is because the handle is weighted.  It’s weighted with lead, so it’s heavy.  That causes energy to flow, through the handle…” and He strikes it in the air quickly, makes it snap, “so it carries more impact.”     

Laying it back down on the table, He says, “I think that’s way too advanced for you right now,” and i’m quick to agree.   But i’m turned on, no mistake about it, it makes me wet.    

And lying on the couch, stroking myself, one hand between my legs caressing my clit, the other hand teasing a nipple, remembering those moments still turns me on.  Tensing my muscles, legs tingling a little, my swollen pussy almost ready to cum, i think about the power.  His power.  And that brings me closer to the edge.    

And then, hips raising off the couch a little, i think about my pussy being filled, impaled on a cock, thrusting into me… and i’m stroking faster, rhythmically, i whimper a little.   i think about bending over the bed, being taken, filled from behind, a hand between my legs, pinned between His body behind me, His hand in front… and that takes me higher, up and up, over the top….    

…. and down, ahhhhhhh, trembling, shaken, and satisfied.      

O.  Yes.    

Mmmmm.    

Tension drained.  i roll onto my side.  Smile.  Bet i can take a nap now…