Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Day 4

This is an adult blog containing frank discussion of sexual situations and BDSM themes.  Read at your own risk.

So it's Day 4 of my weeklong task,  and I am beginning to really struggle.  I am afraid of what the next few days will be like.

My first masturbation session took place in front of a mirror. I chose to use the mirror in my office rest room,  as it's quite large.  I watched myself respond to my questing fingers, noting the way my back arched and my hips pushed forward,  seeking even more contact.  I saw how my skin flushed as my heart beat faster and my breathing picked up. I'm not one to admire myself,  but I admit to being pleased with the way my reflection moved and trembled and  bucked. I took myself to the edge, to a level 9 for sure, where I knew I would cum if I didn't stop right now. Then I leaned against the door and panted and ached and thought that my legs might not hold me up.  Damn.

My second session of the day was in the parking lot of my son's school.  I felt a little creepy,  to be honest,  with my hand in my panties as kids - and a couple of parents - walked past my car. It was warm, and between rain showers, so I had the windows half-way down, and I could hear the voices of those who passed me. My fingers stroked my clit in   relentless circles,  faster and harder,  and I pressed my head back against the seat and bucked my hips up and moaned softly. Definitely a 9+ on the horniness scale.  Oh, God,  I wanted to cum, I could feel my climax hovering just right there ..... my body shuddered and for one heart-stopping moment I thought I might not be able to stop.  Shit, shit, shit. I wished that Master was there, so I could beg him for permission to cum.  I was so close it actually hurt,  and that deep ache lasted for quite a while.

My third session took place in front of a window. I felt rather uncomfortable about that,  truth be told.  I'm not really an exhibitionist. But it was on Master's list,  so I had to comply. I kept my blouse on, though; there was no requirement to be totally naked.  I propped one knee on a chair and leaned one hand on the window frame to support myself. My body was still humming from my earlier session,  so it took only a few minutes to ramp right back up to an 8-9 level. My leg was shaking, my arm sore from using it so much these past few days,  and my body bowed forward when the first fluttering tendrils of impending climax tingled through me. I would have happily crawled on my hands and knees to sit at Master's feet, if only he would stroke his pussy and grant his whore release. I lifted my head, my breath coming in gasps,  and saw a couple out walking their dog on the road in front of the house.  My fingers curled into the window frame as I trembled and groaned and throbbed,  being denied a third time.

For my fourth session,  I had to choose a room that was not my bedroom or bathroom.  Since I had laundry going anyway,  I chose the laundry room.  As the washer spun, I leaned back against the wall with my knees slighly bent, giving my fingers full access.  As before,  I hadn't yet totally recovered from my earlier sessions, so in just a few strokes I
was highly aroused and building toward climax.  I dropped my head back against the wall as my hips rocked and my legs trembled.  I quickly passed a level 9 and took a shaky breath as I dared push myself just a little bit further. My body snapped forward and I tore my hand away just in time.  I groaned in frustration then; 3 more days of this is going to drive me insane.  I curled into a ball on the floor and shook and waited for the awful tension to pass.

Yup, 3 more days ..... God help me.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Day 3

This is an adult blog containing frank discussion of sexual situations and BDSM themes.  Read at your own risk. 

So today is Day 3 of my latest task,  so I was to masturbate three times,  in three different places.  

Place 1 was at work. I sat in my office chair at my desk and unzipped my slacks.  I shifted my legs apart and worked my fingers into my panties.  I was so dry at first that rubbing myself was actually unpleasant.  That's kind of unusual for me,  to be honest.  It took a couple minutes to loosen up and get those juices going.  I knew I might be in trouble when my finger swirled over my clit just so and my back arched against the chair involuntarily.  I dropped my head back and exhaled on a soft groan. Damn. Another few strokes and I tried to open my legs wider, but they were constrained by my slacks.  I pulled my fingers free, panting lightly,  but wishing I had Master's permission to cum. I definitely reached a 7 on the horniness scale,  lol. 

Place 2 was at the gym, in the changing room.  I had been in touch with Master during the day and received instructions on tweaking my task.  I straddled the bench, my pants bunched loosely over my lap, and quickly began to stroke Master's pussy.  This was not a time for hesitation or finesse; I was fearful that someone would walk in while I was playing,  so I needed to attain my goal quickly.  And it worked - in just a few minutes I was squirming,  my hips rocking forward,  my back arched. I became aware that I was making these whimpering,  whining noises, but the tension I was feeling as my body sought release was too much to bear quietly. I wanted to cum, so badly,  but Master was adamant that I skirt the edge without falling over,  so I forced myself to stop. I slumped forward and gripped the bench with both hands,  willing my heart to slow and my panting to ease. Master's pussy ached and throbbed,  and I had the fleeting thought that this task is going to kill me. That had to be a 9+ on the horniness scale. 

Place 3 was outside on my deck.  I took a glass of Bailey's and watched the last rays of the sun as they disappeared behind the lake,  a narrow strip of sky glowing gold, then pinky-blue, and fading to indigo.  So as the houses around the lake began casting their lights to reflect off the water,  I reached a hand to Master's pussy once more. It didn't take long until I was squirming and panting and rocking,  moaning softly with my eyes closed,  my body rushing quickly to release and relief.  I was most definitely over a 9 on the horniness scale! Oh, please,  please,  I thought,  please allow your whore to cum ... I thought maybe I would offer to let Master blindfold and gag me, if only he would let. Me. Cum, already. I sucked in a huge gasp of air and wrenched my hand out of my pants, my heart pounding in my chest,  Master's pussy so ready for climax that it ached and clenched, once, and ached more. Damn it!  I am not sure I will make it through all seven days of this.  Even now, two hours later,  I still feel achy.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Day 2

This is an adult blog containing frank discussion of sexual situations 
and BDSM themes.  Read at your own risk. 

So today is Day 2 of my latest task as assigned by my Master.  As such, 
I was to masturbate twice in two separate locations.

The first location I chose was at a relative's home, where I had been 
invited for Easter Sunday dinner. After a leisurely meal, complete with 
wine and followed by coffee and dessert,  I excused myself to the 
bathroom, where I spent 5-6 minutes fondling Master's pussy. The 
half bath opens to a bedroom as well as the hall; the door to the hall 
was shut but not locked, while the door to the bedroom,  as well as the 
bedroom door remained open. 

At the conclusion of my play, Master's pussy was juicy-wet, and quite 
pleasantly tingly. On a scale of 1-10,  I would rank my horniness level 
at 4; it felt good, definitely left wanting more, but not so worked up that I
was uncomfortable returning to the dinner table.  Though it is true that 
I could feel some dampness in my panties. 

Later in the evening I indulged in a hot bath - one of my favorite ways to 
relax.  I soaked in my bubbly water for 20 minutes or so, my skin below 
the water line a bright red from the heat. And as I soaked,  I debated 
using that time as my second masturbation opportunity .... I do so 
enjoy the sensuous feel of warm water lapping against my skin.

BUT no - Master's instructions said that I cannot repeat a location 
until I have exhausted the list he gave me.  So, until then,  the 
bathroom isn't an option.  So I (rather reluctantly) hoisted myself 
from the tub and drained the water.  After drying off, I knew my poor 
lobster skin needed lotion,  even my breasts, which were red and 
itchy from heat and dryness. 

I slathered myself with a rich creamy lotion,  then wandered to my 
bedroom,  where I laid on the bed to allow the lotion to absorb into 
my skin. And that became my second masturbation session.  My 
fingers were still slightly slick from the lotion and slid so very 
deliciously across my clit as I stroked myself, now pressing deeply 
in tiny circles,  now glancing lightly in wider strokes.  I sighed in 
pleasure as ripples of need and desire spiraled through me. I spent 
only a handful of minutes in play, perhaps 7-8, but that was long 
enough to send my horniness level to a 6 or so, where I was panting 
just a little, and Master's pussy was producing enough juices to 
coat my fingers.  

I would have totally enjoyed being allowed to cum, after that; the 
need, while not urgent, was definitely present,  and it was not as 
easy to just stop as it had been earlier. 

This task lasts for a week. I have 5 days of ever-escalating sessions 
ahead of me. I can see where this is going to really test me.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

7 Days

This is an adult blog and contains frank discussion of sexual situations and 
BDSM themes. 

So Master has assigned his sub a new task,  which is really a series of tasks to
be completed over the next seven days. I am to detail each day's task as a
journal. Today is Day 1.

The task for today was to masturbate in a location chosen from a list of
approved locales. Given that each day's task builds on the previous day,
I chose to start off simple.

The location I chose was my bathroom,  door unlocked.  I stroked myself for
about 5 minutes,  long enough to start feeling all turned on and needy, but
as I am not allowed to cum without Master's express permission,  I stopped
before I felt too close to the edge.

So now Master's pussy is wanting to be filled, and I have a little bit of an
ache due to the denial,  but it isn't too bad yet.I would judge my "horniness" level at around 3. I foresee having more
complex issues and feelings before this week long task ends.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Breathing Room, More or Less

This is an adult blog, with adult content, and it may contain detailed discussion of sexual situations and BDSM themes. Read at your own risk.

So anyone who's been reading this blog knows I am on a journey to discover my submissive self, to explore my sexual desires, limits and curiosities, and to find out how to balance all these sides of myself. 

Sometimes I am more in tune with what I need, and sometimes I feel like a stranger in my own skin. And I don't always know what's going to trigger that stranger reaction.

Like this week, for example - my Dom has said that I am to follow a more healthy lifestyle, meaning, I am to incorporate a regular exercise routine and a more healthful eating style into my daily schedule. And that seems pretty simple, doesn't it? Just eat better and get some exercise. Add to that, it was a directive given to me by my Dom, so of course, as his sub, I am to do what I'm told. 

And yet I have really been struggling with this. I did pretty well with my food choices for the first week or so, and then I started to slip a little - and then I was slipping a lot. I just thought, Well, I'm keeping my calories at about the right amount, so what does it matter if those calories come from potato chips, or a fast-food sandwich (hey, I skipped the fries), or a packaged meal? I rely heavily on box mixes and frozen foods - I have a regular office job, a son at home who needs to be picked up after school a couple times a week, and three dogs. I don't have time to spend hours cooking every night - nor do I have to energy or the desire, frankly. I'm not someone who loves to cook or finds it relaxing or whatever. No. I want to come home, throw something together, eat and be done with it.

Part of my new task-to-become-habit includes keeping a daily food journal, online, so that Master can access it whenever he wishes to check on my compliance. (That was an experience in itself, as I'm not really tech-minded and it took me a while to get that diary uploaded correctly.) However, once he reviewed it, he was not happy.

Here's where the "I don't know my trigger" part comes in. He wasn't horrible to me or anything, just really blunt and stern, but I felt smaller and smaller and less and less valued as he took me to task, until I became frustrated and kinda talked back to him. Umm, that's not a good idea, really, but once I opened my mouth this torrent of frustration and stubbornness and feelings of being overwhelmed came pouring out. And once I admitted to feeling so out of control (an odd thing for a sub, maybe, but there it is) then I started feeling uncertain about my own worth - like, if I give up control of even the basic things like food choices, doesn't that make me helpless and incapable of caring for myself? What kind of illness in me can't even make good food choices? I'm intelligent; I know an apple is better than chips, that simple foods cooked at home are better than fast food. I KNOW this; but I wasn't acting on it.

And don't even get me started on exercise! I hate it, hate it, hate it. I've done the gym thing three times, in three different cities, and each time I'm just miserable, so I stop going. And I was fighting Master about that, too. Good Lord, I flat-out told him I would not be a good candidate for this, and that I'll most likely fail. He was less than thrilled with me, to be sure.

So where did all of this stubbornness come from?? Why was I choosing to fight about this, which really is such a simple thing to do for Master? It's not like he was asking me to do anything which could hurt me; on the contrary, by following his guidance I would experience an improvement in my overall well-being. So why?

And then I figured out that by accepting Master's word in this, by giving him control of such simple tasks as what I eat and how I exercise, I am more completely surrendering my own will to him, placing myself even more fully under his care and control, taking another clear step along the path toward more total submission. And THEN I realized that I do this almost every time he asks me to give up more of myself to him (and that that is why I get flustered; I still struggle with the "what becomes of ME when I have completely surrendered?" question). 

So then, as I always do, I need to step back and take a couple days to process things and work through my issues, and then I can put aside the doubts and the fears and continue on. And that's what has happened this week, also; I needed a bit of time to come to terms with what it means for me, and then I am able to move forward and be content. I'm back on track with my food, and while I'm not loving the idea of exercise sessions, I'm not whining about them anymore, either. I think I will be able to fulfill Master's commands, now, and benefit from the improvement in my physical health.       


Friday, February 7, 2014

Snow Day

Sir has tasked me with creating a series of stories/scenarios about sexual situations. Some will be drawn from past events, some will be things i'd like to have happen, and some will be pure fiction, spun from my imagination and best left there. LOL.

I woke this morning to find 6 inches of fresh snow covering the world outside. I stood at the sliding glass door and just marveled at the clean, pure freshness of it, the cold seeping in the sides of the door and freezing my bare feet. I shivered, and turned to pour myself some coffee. Mmmm. The heat was perfect on this chilly morning.

Fortified by my steaming cup of java, I pulled on some warm fleecy sweats, stuffed my sock-clad feet into boots, wound a scarf around my neck and pulled on my jacket and gloves. I grabbed the shovel from the front porch and began the task of clearing away the accumulated snow from the porch steps, sidewalk, and up the driveway. The work quickly fell into a rhythm .... bend, scoop, throw as I straighten, repeat. Endlessly. I felt my arms, shoulders and back grow tired, and then begin aching. My nose started running, so I stripped off my gloves and retrieved a tissue from my coat pocket. This is one of my big complaints about cold weather - my nose always, always runs.

Eventually (45 minutes later) I called my shoveling job "good enough" and trudged back to the house. I was cold, and tired, and sniffling, and I just wanted to get warm, please. I propped the shovel against the house and pushed the front door open. After spending that time outside, the heat of the house seemed almost stifling, but I was happy to have it. I draped my coat on the door knob, shucked my boots and dropped my damp gloves and scarf on the floor register to dry.

The coffee pot was still hot, so I poured another cup and sipped it carefully. The heat from the cup seeped into my frozen fingers but it didn't seem to be enough; I was still shivering, and couldn't seem to get warm enough. There was nothing to do but run a hot bath and soak for a while. What a shame.

I set my coffee cup on the kitchen counter and went off to the bedroom. I stepped into the attached bathroom and turned on the water to the tub before stripping out of my snow- and sweat-dampened clothes, dropping them in a heap on the floor. I poured some baby oil into the water - Lord knows my winter skin can use the moisture boost - and pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I waited for the tub to finish filling.

I stepped carefully into the tub - ooh, that water was hot! I sank down into the water, which reddened my skin almost immediately. I propped my feet on the end of the tub to lift them out of the water for a while, as the temp was too hot for comfort. Then I leaned back against the wall of the tub, sliding down so that the water just covered my shoulders. I had to bend my knees, but that was OK. I laid my head back against the tub wall and closed my eyes, relaxing into the oiled water and allowing my aching muscles to soak in the heat. Mmmm.

I'm not sure how long I stayed like that, but it was long enough that I nearly dozed off and the water cooled significantly. And then a whole different set of muscles began to protest at being held in the same position for too long. I groaned as I sat up and straightened out my legs, and as the cool air of the bathroom hit my water-heated skin, I shivered. Reflexively, I rubbed my arms to warm them again and my hands skidded over my oil-slicked skin. It was slippery, and soft, and warm, and it felt kind of good, actually, so I did it again, more slowly and firmly. Yes, that definitely felt nice.

I dropped my hands to the tops of my thighs and slowly stroked my palms down my legs, feeling the way the oil-slicked skin just flowed under my fingers, and the way the still-warm water lapped against my body. That was very nice, indeed. I closed my eyes again and massaged my legs, stretching and bending and reaching all the way down to my ankles, then retracing the path back up my legs. I splayed my fingers open and shivered as my fingertips grazed the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. I opened my eyes and watched the path of my fingers as I teased my skin once more, and I shivered harder this second time.  

Now I began to feel a tingling which had very little to do with cold flesh rewarming. I slid down into the water a bit further, bending my knees and parting my thighs so that they pressed against the side of the tub. I smoothed my hands along my body, circling from my knees and up along my outer thighs, skimming up over my ribs, across my chest and directly over my nipples, down over my stomach and along my inner thighs to my knees again. By the third slow pass, my nipples had stiffened, and on the fourth pass, as my fingertips grazed the taut peaks, a spear of desire shot through me and my back arched against the tub wall. Ooh, that was quite nice, indeed.

I tipped my head back to rest on the tub wall, closing my eyes once again, and allowed my right hand to drift lazily down my body to nestle between my legs. My skin was so soft, and slick, and slippery, and the sensations I experienced as I rubbed my finger over my clit caused sparks to flicker behind my closed eyelids. I released a soft moan and began rubbing myself a little bit faster, a little bit more firmly, and I felt a rush of desire building low in my belly, increasing as I increased the tempo and pressure.

Despite my somewhat awkward position,  my hips started rocking a little, which caused the water in the tub to slosh back and forth and settle into waves which licked across my body, creating a sensation similar to the way my hands felt as they stroked my skin. I had not expected the frankly sensual way the water seemed to caress me, sending waves of warmth over my body, but it was delicious all the same. My heart rate increased and my breathing sped up as I stroked myself, and I brought my other hand up to play with my breast, teasing the taut nipple and squeezing the ample soft flesh. I tossed my head to the side and sighed, deeply, surrendering to the feelings coursing through my body, allowing my thoughts to float away and focus simply on the physical sensations. 

It wasn't much longer until I felt the first stirrings of impending orgasm, the fluttering in my stomach, the raspiness of my breathing, the way my heart beat in my chest. My arm was beginning to tire, but I kept up the rhythm of pressure and motion against my clit, and pressed my back a bit more firmly against the tub. Then I felt a tiny shudder under my fingers, my inner walls contracting just a little, not a real climax, exactly, but a precursor, a tiny taste of what was to come if I just kept going and had just a little bit more patience. 

I bore down even more strongly with my fingers, coaxing more sensation against my swollen nub, and at the same moment I twisted my nipple sharply. That sharp sting made me cry out and arch my back sharply, and that was the end - my orgasm took me then, drawing my muscles tight in response to the explosion I felt consuming me from my belly and flowing out through my body and all through my limbs. I was aware of my voice keening, but I could not stop it; I was powerless to do anything at all other than pant and shudder and ride it out.

Once the wave had passed, I realized that the water in the tub had become tepid, and I was shivering now due to feeling chilled. I pulled myself out of the tub, stepping carefully to avoid slipping, and quickly toweled off. My legs were shaky, my arms felt heavy, and as soon as I was dry, I wandered to the bedroom and pulled on a soft cotton camisole and panties. I curled up on my bed and pulled the quilt over me; and I felt myself warming up, relaxing, almost melting into the bed, feeling my body grow heavy as the exhaustion from the shoveling and the intensity of my climax took their toll.  I know I dozed off, because I came back to consciousness a couple hours later, still sleepy, but not so weary. I padded out to the kitchen to see about a late lunch, feeling satisfied and peaceful and content.    


Friday, January 31, 2014

Appetite Suppressant

This is an adult blog, with frank discussion of sexual themes and other adult content. Read at your own risk.

 Well, I managed to put my foot in it this time! Master read my latest blog .... and immediately took me to task for some of my actions. He had told me that he wanted something new to read, so that part was fine. He really did tell me to take 5 minutes in the bathroom at work and cum, so that was fine, also.

But he did not tell me I could indulge myself in any more playtime, so that turned out to be a big no-no. And during our chat that evening, he let me know that I was going to be punished for my transgression. I wasn't sure I really needed it, to be honest - I had no willful intention of being disobedient -  but he IS my master, and he does have the right to discipline me as he sees fit. So here is how I had to atone for my misstep:

Because I had talked about being eager to have some alone time in my bed, my bed was taken away from me. I had to sleep on the floor that night, with no pillow, only a blanket - and I had the blanket only because it is winter, and Master is firm, but not cruel.

So I bedded down for one of the absolutely most restless, uncomfortable nights of my life. You have to understand, first off, that all the floors in my house are wooden planks, studded with raised decorative iron nailheads. You also have to understand that my bedroom is not a warm room; I use a space heater to warm it before I go to bed, and the temp in the room always dips to about 55 or 56 degrees. And there I was for the night - freezing, sore and achy from the absolutely unyielding wood floor, my neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Ugh. I dozed off and on, but I distinctly recall waking up shivering, feeling so, so cold in that room, the draft from the sliding glass door just seemed absolutely bitterly cold. And when finally that endless night was over, I rose slowly, all stiff and sore and exhausted.

I was a sorry sub that day, dragging myself through my work day, but when I spoke to my Master later, I knew what I had done wrong and I know I do not want to repeat that error. He owns all of me - ALL of me - and that includes when this body is allowed to play. As I had not sought permission, nor been granted the ability, I had to atone for using Master's property without his knowledge.

It was not an easy lesson - but it was a simple one: Do not presume to have unfettered access to Master's property.