For a While

For a while last night, i was lost in that place where i float happily, removed from everything.

Waiting in Starbucks for His text with instructions ~~

Go to the bathroom and remove your panties.  No pictures necessary this time ~ lol.

And i text back Yes, Sir, but i’m wearing jeans!

and He just laughs, well, that would be your problem, not mine,

like i knew He would.

i think

if He keeps this up, i’ll end up wanting to take my panties off anytime i’m in Starbucks.

That could be a problem.  

But i strip my panties off, put my jeans back on.  The material is cool and a little stiff against my freshly shaved pussy.  

As instructed, i drive to His house, wiggling in my seat a little, trying to keep the inner seam from rubbing against me.

His front door is open, but i can’t see through the storm door ~ it’s cloudy, i think because He has turned the thermostat way up.  He lets me in.

He’s laid out an array of toys, and there’s the new base for the bondage bench, although it doesn’t have the larger board attached to it yet.  But there’s a platform with a towel folded on it and ~

yes, in a matter of minutes, i find myself stripped of clothing, bent over the platform.

Hands tied together in front of me, then attached to the base, so i’m stretched over the platform, feet not quite flat on the ground… legs spread, ass exposed…

He begins with His hand.

Hand, flogger, stingy rope thing, belt is the routine, only tonight, He’s not wearing a belt, and He brings out the canes instead.

Yikes.

They sting ~ O!  They sting so bad ~ so good ~ they get my full attention.  Any stray thoughts corralled and concentrated on my burning ass…

When He’s done, and i’m untied, He moves the coffee table into place and re-ties me ~ spreads my legs, and ties me down again…

Mmmmmmm.  It is bliss, being touched and probed and played with… and then ~

     ~~  on the floor, at His feet, cuddled against Him, hearing His heartbeat ~~

it is bliss.

The Hard Rammer

It’s very quiet around here without ‘Nilla.  i miss her already.

But it wasn’t quiet last night.  Sir X and i had play time, and He’d had a whole week to plan…   so the house was full of noises, mostly mine.

Moans of pleasure and pain, whimpers and cries, laughter and  ~ no, not tears, and no screams, but some pretty sharp gasps now and then.  The cane demands a reaction, and he doubled the strokes this time, 6 with each, except the last one, mercifully only three with that one.

And i wonder – will it be 12 with each next time?  Omigosh, that would be an awful lot.  Maybe He stops at 6.   Ok, no, that would be unlikely.  Maybe it will be 9 next time.

And a shiver runs through me.  There are 4 canes, or cane sets, i think ~ or 5?  i have to go back and look at my picture to be sure.  **********  Ok, 4, there are four sets.  Times 6 is 24, and if you know canes, well, that is a lot, i think.

Although, He isn’t harsh with them, he isn’t trying  to harm me, so they sting ~~  o, they sting, and leave welps ~ but i can slide into it, and it is not too much.

He’s brought a spanking bench with Him.  

No, i’m not kidding.  It’s a portable work bench, and i don’t know how He modified it, but He lays a towel across it for padding, fastens my ankle cuffs to the legs, ties my arms as well, before the canes.

We have done our usual ritual of submission ~ the leather collar this time, wrist and ankle cuffs ~ then led to the door, where He’s fastened the rope, my arms pulled over my head, face to the wall first.   Hands pressed flat against it.

Hand, flogger, stingy rope, belt.  That is always the same.

He turns me once, to attach some nipple clamps, new ones, tighter, more painful, with a heavier chain…

But hand, flogger, stingy rope, belt.  That is always the same…

And there is a moment, i think it is between the rope and the belt, before i hear the hisssss of His belt coming off, there is a moment ~~

~~ when i feel so deeply submissive that i ~~ i can’t describe it

~~ it’s so deep and so intense that i totally want to belong to Him, bring on the branding iron, whatever

~~ i want to give myself to Him ~~ at that moment i would do anything for Him ~~ and i’m feeling it so strongly, i have to say it,

only i don’t have a lot of words, so i manage to say, “You have no idea how submissive i feel right now…”

and He laughs and says, “Well, i would hope you do!  You’re tied to the door, naked, with nipple clamps,” and His hand reaches around to pinch my nipples, making me cry out, “and,” He continues, “I’ve been spanking your ass ~ I hope you do feel submissive!”

And i have to laugh too, and i say, “Yes, no, i mean, that’s not quite what i mean, i don’t know what i mean,” cause you know, i lose my words when i’m in that head space,

and He laughs and says, “I think maybe you mean you feel wonderfully submissive?”  and i agree, because yes, for sure i do.

But youall know there is more to it than the pleasure.  Something inside me shifts, something inside me becomes more fully His, not just in that moment, but after too.

And i don’t have the words for it.

Anyhow, that’s not what i was going to talk about today,  i was gonna tell you about the hard rammer, in case you’ve forgotten, it looks like this:

And really, i thought it was going to be toooooo big, i thought it might hurt, i was really a little bit worried, and i was afraid He’d push it too far in and afraid it would just freak me out, but ~~~

um, it didn’t hurt, it was a little uncomfortable just at first, but Six X said He’d had experience with these, and clearly, He had because it was intensely, amazingly wonderful, and He seemed to know just how far and how hard and ~~

O, it was lovely.  🙂

Quick Thoughts

Sitting in my daughter’s apartment wondering:  can i write a kinky blog in less than an hour, before my daughter comes home and reclaims her computer?  i can try…

The week flies by – and drags on.  Tuesday already – and only Tuesday.   Only two days to figure out what i’m going to wear, get my mani/pedi, do the necessary laundry, shave, pluck, groom, and  pack.   Two long, slow days until the weekend, until i see Sir D, until we start a new adventure.  

Now that i have a better idea what to expect  –

– i have noooo idea what to expect. 

All the things i’ve talked about already – the whole litany:  Doms and their subs, Masters and slaves,  floggers, and whips, ropes and Shibari, Mistresses, classes,  spanking benches, and  violet wands.   Naked bodies, leashes and collars, corsets and thongs… i could go on and on.  

Did i tell you about this one thing they had?  It was – o, can i describe it?  i tried to find a picture, but – ok – it was like a cross – your arms would be bound to poles like a cross.  But there was a seat, rather than standing, you’d be in a seat.  With your legs spread open, of course.  And – o, it was raised.  The whole thing was raised off the ground so you would be easily accessible.

Whew.  It was really hot.  It was kind of like this:

 

Except it was wooden and – well, different.   The leg parts didn’t stick out like that.  And you have to picture it raised up off the ground, attached to – um, the side of a thing they use to do rope suspensions.  But you get the idea.

Then there was a swing – just like in movies and books…  and  not just the swing, everything was just like in all the books i’ve read.  So familiar and so strange at the same time.

Writing about it – whew – again – i’m getting all stirred up – my heart beats faster, my pussy throbs… thank goodness orgasm restriction doesn’t start til tomorrow.

So thinking about it turns me on.  And i kind of know what to expect, except not really at all.   Even if the furniture is all the same (which it won’t be) the people will be different. 

i’ll be different too.  More experienced.  Ok, a tiny little bit more experienced.  Still wide-eyed and nervous.

i don’t know what Sir D will want to do – if anything – or what i’ll want, or what it will be like.

 i can’t wait.

i’ll never be ready in time.

The excitement swells up inside me til i don’t think i can stand it.  It would be easy to slip from thrill to fear – to worry – to what if i don’t have the right clothes and nobody likes me and Sir is disappointed in me and…

… and then i stop that right now.   It will all be ok.

i will be who i am.  i am a submissive woman, with a Dom i trust.  i put myself in Sir D’s hands because that’s where i belong.  He brings His wisdom and strength, His leadership and His skill.  He brings the sureness to guide me;  He takes me where He wants me to be. 

i go wholeheartedly.  Not fearful, not holding back, bringing all of my self to the experience.   If i am only to watch, to attend to what happens, to listen and learn, i will do it with all the attention and receptivity that i have.  And if He wants more –

– o, if He wants more,

                                                  perhaps i can fly.

 

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. 

 

My Weekend Away, Part II: Into the Dungeon

“In sex, an inner life of strong emotions and vivid fantasies meets with a real person to create a moment of exceptional intensity when life is full and reason is dim.”    from The Soul of Sex, by Thomas Moore*

The spanking bench in the dungeon

 i’m looking at the spanking bench with a little trepidation when He says, “Off – take those off,” and i shiver, pull my t-shirt over my head, slip my shorts off.  i take my time with the bra, turning my back to him to unhook it, turn back to  pull the straps off my shoulders one at a time, drop the bra gently on the floor. 

Then i pause, not sure i want to lose the panties, even though they’re not exactly a lot of protection.  But He gestures, “come on,” and so of course i do, feeling the silk slide down my legs and then they’re off and i am exposed.  i  watch Him intently.

The cuffs are red leather, fairly wide, and i hold out my wrists for Him to strap them on.  They’re soft, almost padded inside, and feel secure.  Then he gestures to my ankle.  i’m still focused on my wrists, and don’t respond immediately.  He pats the spanking bench and, “O, sorry,”  i raise my right leg, place it on the bench so he can strap the ankle cuff on.  Then the left leg. 

i feel very naked.  More naked with the cuffs than before.

“Good girl,” He says.  i shudder, feel my pussy clench.

Then, He pats the bench, “Come on, up you go,” He says.  And i do,  just like before when i had my clothes on, but this time there’s all that leather against my nakedness.  It makes me shiver to remember it, makes me wet just writing it.

The rings in the wrist cuffs barely clink when He attaches them to the bench.  i tug a little to test them; they are securely attached.  He leaves my ankles free.

The blindfold is red.  I notice that before He places it around my eyes,  fastens it in the back.   i appreciate the darkness. 

There is music playing too, i had almost forgotten that.  Hearing and feeling are enough, i don’t need to see. 

i don’t need to see which instrument He selects.    Sometimes He names it for me, “This is one of the floggers.”   He uses the flogger on my ass and then on my back, and it doesn’t feel bad, more like some esoteric massage.   I wriggle on the bench, feel my pussy rub against it.   Mmmmm, nice.

Oher things hurt.  i whimper and squirm, my toes curl and uncurl.   “Mmmpf,’ as it thuds again across both cheeks. “Ahh.  Oh.”

It’s only later that He tells me, “That was the big wooden paddle with the heart carved in it.  But I barely touched you with it!” 

“i know, i know” i say, “i knew even then that you were being gentle, but it still really hurt.  i can’t imagine…” the sentence trails off.

In the moment, kneeling naked, bound, the paddle made a thump on my ass, an impresson on my mind.  And then, “Let’s try this one,” He says, “It stings,” and it does – o, my, it does.  “Breathe,” He says.  i do, and that helps.   He talks me through it, and i see no irony in Him teaching me how to take it.

i know now that was a quirt.

He showed me this later...

And i’m experiencing all these sensations – the stinging, the thumps and thuds – mingled with His hands stroking.  i’m incredibly wet, in a puddle on the bench, when  He says, “you were asking me about the hitachi,” and He’s doing something behind me, something is pressed up against my hot, wet pussy and just the contact makes me moan.  i’ve been squirming, now i’m wanting to back up into this like a cat in heat.  And He turns it on.

Hitachi magic wand massager. Whew. Magic is right

It vibrates, and i whimper and moan, and then He’s in front of me and my mouth is His too, and… O, my.  Really, that’s all i can say.  O.  My.   Well,  also, “Mmmmm…”  and then “Aaaaahhhhhhhh… o, yes,” as i reach that peak and tumble over, shaking with pleasure.

Later, warm and cuddled and held, i realize that He has acted out a fantasy i’ve had for ages.  i’d never shared the fantasy with anyone, and He had brought it to life. 

Thomas Moore says:   “The soul craves such excursions from literal reality, and so it is no mystery that sex is so compelling and satisfying.” *

* i realize that by some definitions this wasn’t “sex,” but from Thomas Moore’s perspective it would be.  i’m going to talk about that too, one of these days…